Reaching Maturity
Disclaimer: if they were mine, would I be writing fanfiction? Ergo, they are not my characters. Some of the prefects belong to me: Katie Harper, Andrew McIntosh, Primrose Devaney, Thomas West, Zoë West, James McIlroy, Becky Jordan, Mark Edwards, Rita Palmer, Geoff deVille, Tarquin Baldrick (thanks for that, Tara Gilliam!) and Cecilia Rickman.
A/N:apologies if you don't like my naming the prefects, but if I don't name them now it will interrupt the flow of the story later on. So don't bother complaining; it's the best point in the story to name them all.
WHERE HAVE ALL MY REVIEWERS GONE? (I'm sure you're reading – at least, I hope you are – but my inbox is looking a little empty at the moment…hint hint)
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
Chapter 15: Sleeping in the Great Hall
Within an hour, all the students were huddled in the sleeping bags on the camp beds that Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick had conjured up for them. The prefects, with the exception of Draco, and head students were assembled at the front of the Hall with the teachers, all serious and grave.
Harry regarded everyone closely. The seventh-years consisted of himself, Ron and Hermione from Gryffindor. There was Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff. Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein and Chris Moon were from Ravenclaw, and Morag Macdougal from Slytherin (Pansy Parkinson had been the Slytherin girls' prefect, but various actions in her sixth year had prompted Snape to replace her with Morag).
The sixth-years were Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey (Gryffindor), Katie Harper and Andrew McIntosh (Hufflepuff), Luna Lovegood and Michael Corner (Ravenclaw), and Cecilia Rickman and Tarquin Baldrick (Slytherin).
The fifth-years were Zoë West and James McIlroy (Gryffindor), Primrose Devaney and Thomas West, twin of Zoë (Hufflepuff), Mark Edwards and Becky Jordan, sister of ex-Gryffindor student and Quidditch commentator Lee Jordan (Ravenclaw), and Rita Palmer and Geoff deVille (Slytherin). They, however, were not involved in whatever was going on, having been declared 'too young' by Professor Sprout.
"Things have become far more dangerous. That is all I am saying," McGonagall was telling deVille sternly. "Now, to bed with you eight." None of them dared argue.
She beckoned to the seventeen sixth- and seventh-year students to follow her out into the corridor, away from inquisitive ears. Only when the doors of the Hall had shut behind her did she continue. "We have a reliable outside source that can keep us updated on certain things that are impacting on situations such as this."
"There are to be four two-hour shifts. None of you are expected to remain awake for the entire night – you still have lessons to attend, after all," Dumbledore informed them, appearing behind McGonagall. "It's eleven now; I want Hufflepuffs on duty until one, Ravenclaws from one till three, Slytherins three till five, and Gryffindors from five till seven. Sleep when you are not on shift. You will be patrolling the Hall, ensuring students are asleep and not talking. The younger ones may be scared, so try to reassure them. Report anything suspicious to a member of staff. There will always be a minimum of two teachers on duty in the Hall. Professor Sinistra is in close communication with the ghosts, and they will be reporting to her. The ghosts may also wish to speak with you. Any questions?"
"We're a prefect short," pointed out Cecilia Rickman, a girl with wild black hair that she usually wore in two plaits. She had a reputation for being late for everything. "Draco Malfoy's still up in the hospital wing."
"Mr. Moon, would you care to join the Slytherin prefects?"
Chris nodded. "May as well."
"When you wake the next set of prefects, brief them of any incidents. Now, bed except for you Hufflepuffs."
The prefects that were going to sleep joined their House's fifth-year prefects, near the doors of the Great Hall. Most students seemed to stick together in their houses. The Gryffindor seventh-years huddled up together in a corner, not too far from the Hufflepuffs' currently unoccupied beds. Ginny joined them. "What I don't get is why we're all camped out in here when, by all accounts, V-V-Voldemort is nowhere near Hogwarts," she whispered. "At least with Sirius they only did this to us when he was actually in the castle walls! And what about showers and so on?"
"I expect we'll be able to go back at seven or so," said Hermione logically. "Breakfast isn't until quarter to eight, after all."
"Quiet now," Professor Sprout ordered, walking past them.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
"Harry! Harry!" Cecilia hissed at five that morning, shaking him violently. "Wake up! It's your shift!"
"Huh?" Beside Harry, Ron slowly rolled over as Tarquin Baldrick shook him awake.
Hermione, Ginny and Colin were already up, Colin as bright and chirpy as ever. Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron's eyelids fluttered shut again. She muttered something and a jet of icy-cold water shot out of the end of her wand, straight into Ron's face. He sat bolt upright, wide awake, spluttering. "Hermione! What did you have to go and do that for?" he demanded furiously.
"Keep your voice down!" she ordered. "Serves you right for trying to go back to sleep!"
Cecilia gestured down the Hall. "There are some Ravenclaw third-years in that corner that won't go to sleep," she informed them. "I took ten points from Ravenclaw a few minutes ago, so that may or may not have done the trick." She retied the green ribbon on the end of one of her braids, yawning.
"We'll keep you posted," Harry told her, amazed at the degree of solidarity that had suddenly sprung up between the Slytherin prefects and the other prefects. Maybe the rest of the school will follow in their example, he thought. Although that may be wishful thinking.
"Draco doesn't need to know about all of this, does he?" asked Cecilia, yawning again. "God, I'm tired. I just hope I can get some sleep." She pointed to the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, which was pitch black, every last star blotted out by the bank of angry clouds. She flinched as a flash of lightning momentarily lit up the Hall in a whitish light, both from the ceiling and outside. A second later the rain outside began violently striking the windows of the Hall. A deafening crash of thunder woke quite a few people, and a first-year somewhere began crying. Hermione lit her wand and waded through the mass of students to find the girl and comfort her.
"This is why I like the dungeons," said Cecilia. "We don't have thunderstorms. I don't like them at all." She lay down on her camp bed, staring up at the ceiling. Harry, Ron, Ginny and Colin left her and began walking in amongst the students.
Snape appeared in the doorway. The lightning that flashed at that moment illuminated his foreboding outline, momentarily panicking the Gryffindors until they realised who it was when he lit his wand and beckoned them over. "Granger, Potter, I need a word with you. Outside."
Puzzled, Harry and Hermione nevertheless followed him into the corridor. Lupin stood there, a grim look on his worn face. "Your Great-Aunt Louisa's owl just arrived, Hermione. She's marked it 'urgent', which probably explains why the poor owl's looking rather bedraggled." He handed the parchment, a water-repellent spell on it, to Hermione.
Hermione took it and quickly scanned it. "Well, she's complaining a lot about the number of storms they've been having recently – far more than normal…next door's cat has had more kittens…Oh! Now this is interesting!"
"What is?" asked Lupin.
"She says she's sure she's seen 'that strange abstract (is that the word?) French artist Marie-something Lenoir near Swindon the other day'. Says she was with 'a tall man with pale eyes and white-blond hair, very aristocratic-looking, and bears a very close resemblance to Caius Malfoy, who was in the year below her at Hogwarts'. She recalls him being Lucius Malfoy's father."
"An even nastier piece of work that Lucius," said Snape, shuddering as though half-lost in some distant memory.
"So it would appear that Lenoir and Malfoy are in league with each other," mused Lupin, starting at the huge crash of thunder.
"And if what Draco has to say is accurate, Pettigrew can't be far behind," added Harry.
"Can I finish?" snapped Hermione.
"Sorry. Do continue," Harry hastily apologised.
"Thank you. Aunt Louisa says that there was a man with Lenoir and Malfoy, and that she was astounded at the resemblance he bore to Pettigrew, even though 'it cannot be possible as he was murdered all those years ago by Sirius Black' –" She stopped, as Lupin was beginning to swell with fury.
Snape put a restraining hand on his colleague's shoulder. "Lupin, you know that the vast majority of the wizarding world still does not believe in Black's innocence," he reminded him.
Lupin pulled free, shaking himself and letting out an impatient noise. "Apologies, Hermione. But it just makes me so angry to hear one of my best friends being wrongly viewed as a murderer."
Hermione cleared her throat, Snape's face showing that they were about to enter a sensitive area. "She also says that I'm to expect an owl from Neville's grandmother in the next few days – she was in the same year as Aunt Louisa at school and they were really good friends – because apparently there have been some strange goings-on near where she lives in Hebden Bridge."
"Where?" asked Harry.
"West Yorkshire, near Lancashire. Pendle Hill is infamous for witches. Ever heard of the Pendle Witches?"
Harry just looked blank. Hermione groaned impatiently. "We looked at them at the end of second year and the start of third year, remember?"
"No."
"We had that essay on witch-burning for holiday work between second and third year. Wendelin the Weird and so on?"
"Vaguely."
Hermione shook her head irritably. "Anyway, that's pretty much it. All the important stuff, at any rate."
"You'd better go back into the Hall," said Lupin. "The others will be wondering what's happened to you." He glanced through the window at the black sky. Although the sun was supposed to be rising, the storm was still raging.
Hermione took Harry's hand and led him back into the Great Hall, where they joined up with the other Gryffindor prefects.
"What was that all about?" asked Ron in a low voice as they sat down on their beds, a good vantage point to spot any trouble. His bed also provided a good view of Parvati Patil.
"Nothing for you to be worrying about," said Hermione, rather brusquely. She opened her mouth to say something else, but broke off and hurried away to deal with a few second-year girls that were threatening to start a pillow fight.
"Harry?" Ron pressed, but Harry shook his head. "Don't ask for details, Ron. I can't say anything."
Ron angrily turned his back on Harry and stood, returning to his patrol of the Hall.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
It was the same set-up the following night. Ravenclaw were on duty first, followed by Slytherin, Gryffindor and then Hufflepuff. Harry and Hermione spent most of their shift in deep discussion with the ghosts and teachers. Nearly Headless Nick wasn't there – Dumbledore had sent him on a mission to Inverness to see if he could obtain any information from his fellow ghosts.
"I don't like this at all," the Fat Friar, Hufflepuff's ghost, was saying. "There's all sorts of rumours going round. Particularly now Nick's gone on his mission…" He turned to Sinistra as she joined them. "Any news, Professor?"
She shook her head briefly. "Blasted centaurs and their 'Jupiter is dull in comparison to Mars'…stuff! Couldn't get a straight answer out of them if you used a Summoning spell!" She was fuming. Cassie Sinistra was a brisk, no-nonsense witch who had nothing but disdain for any kind of divination – hence her subject of Astronomy. "Don't ask me what whoever it was meant by that statement; I have absolutely no idea whatsoever!" She registered the presence of Harry, Ron and Hermione for the first time. "My lot finished their shift?" Sinistra was a fairly likeable ex-Slytherin.
"It's three-thirty," Hermione informed her. "We've been on for half an hour."
"I can't wait for the Hogsmeade trip later," said Ron. "It'll be good to get out of here for a while."
"That is no longer possible, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall informed him in a low voice, joining them. "Ministry and school restrictions. It isn't safe. Though I may pop into the village later myself, briefly. Oh, and Potter?"
Harry looked startled. "Yes, Professor?"
"That dog you, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger appear to have made friends with will have to stay inside Hogwarts if you want him to stand any chance of survival."
"Why?" asked Hermione anxiously. She knew that McGonagall knew that the dog was Sirius.
"The Dementors have left Azkaban."
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
TBC
Author thanks:
Lucidity: Things for Draco and Hannah have to be slow because it's all so new to them. Hannah's parents are pretty relaxed about most things like boyfriends because they trust her judgement on such things. You are 100 correct about Marie; she really doesn't have many morals at all!
Jmmy: Nope, this fic isn't meant to be 'sweet' as such – but there are some sweet moments in it as I'm an incurable romantic at heart (despite my usual sarcasm and cynicism). Are you now converted to the Draco/Hannah shipping? What sort of writing hints do you want?
Heartsyhawk: My aim is to draw in my readers and have them completely under my manipulative power! (cackles evilly) ONE ESSAY TO GO!
Dark-Rune1: (blushes tomato red) Each and every review means a lot to me and I'm glad I can write things accurately. Getting accurate, realistic emotions is one of the integral elements to a good story; the characters and their experiences seem that bit more real and genuine. I also hope that this isn't too painful for you; I know there are a few things that I've come across that are just too difficult to deal with and read at the moment.
TinorialPeredhil: Draco isn't one to forgive easily or quickly – partly because it's in his nature (he's good at bearing grudges!) and partly because forgiveness is something of an unfamiliar concept to him. as for Marie – let's just say she's not the sort of person I'd spend much time with! She's devious, manipulative and knows exactly how to get what she wants. RotK deserved every award it got! And a certain pirate captain deserved the award he was nominated for. Grrr. Justin is basically me playing on the British public school stereotypes.
Samhaincat: Draco really is a 'poor thing' at the moment. He's still very ill, both physically and mentally. He's incredibly fragile, and Hannah recognises this. She knows that he needs her, and she's fallen big time for him because she can see what he's like underneath the act he puts on. Different people in this fic have their own reasons for wanting to know what's happened to Narcissa.
Rebell: that image of Draco is an incredibly sad one; I agree with you. It kind of stuck in my mind as well. I love the Draco/Hannah thing as well! ;) have I converted you to this pairing yet?
