Chapter Three: Trapped In The Machine
It seemed incredible that, after the events of the last six months, life would ever regain a semblance of normalcy. Hogwarts was fundamentally changed. Half of its students were missing, for good or ill, and Dumbledore had been the heart and soul of the school. McGonagall had given an admirable welcome speech, but everyone looked over their shoulders more often than called for now, and scurried down the hallways more than they strolled. Innocence was lost. Of course, Ginny had been looking over her shoulder and scurrying for years now.
Classes were more demanding than ever, and the classroom dynamics had changed now that all houses were taught subjects at the same time. Professor Lamentina, an Auror dropout, was the new DADA teacher and she was piling as much defensive battle magic on the students as they could take. Ginny tried to beat the stress by hanging out with Colin and Luna when it was time to do homework, but after her friends were asleep Ginny was stealing into the library and reading in her bed by the light of Malfoy's hand of Glory, learning as much as possible about the Imperius Curse, specifically any failsafe methods for detecting it. Ideally, she wanted to walk up to Percy, cast a charm, and know unequivocally whether he had turned to the Death Eaters of his own will or because of someone else's. If it was the Imperius, it was very good rendition of it; a simple Finite incantatum from her was unlikely to do anything. More than anything, she wanted to just ask Hermione if Imperius-detecting charms existed and save herself sleepless nights. As it was though, she only went to the library on the nights Hermione wasn't there and had cursed the older girl more than once for holding up her research. Hermione was too clever, and Ginny couldn't risk raising Hermione's suspicions. Hermione was too righteous to let a Death Eater slip by beneath her. Hermione was too hypocritical to let someone else do a gray act they thought was best.
Their relationship would never recover, she didn't think. They never spoke of the summer anymore. Ginny had brought her up to date over ice cream before school, but they were wholly unable to comfort each other. Ron and Harry were gone. Twelve Grimmauld Place had disappeared. Mad-Eye Moody insisted that the young fools would turn up when they'd run their course, but so far there was no news. It was hard to re-forge a friendship when Harry and Ron's absence was the hippogriff in the room that neither wanted to mention first. They had settled on a sort of working relationship where they were polite, even warm, to each other, but didn't speak of anything of substance. Hermione, unfortunately, wasn't very good at impersonal charm and kept toeing their unspoken boundaries, so Ginny settled on avoiding her when it didn't take undue effort to do so.
But Hermione Granger had appointed herself Brigadier-General of Dumbledore's Army. And Dumbledore's Army was mobilizing for war.
It wasn't the same without Harry, of course, but they did what they could. It was Harry's very absence, in fact, that had convinced the DA members still attending Hogwarts that training had become more imperative than ever. Hermione researched all manners of battle spells, and after the events of last year, was adamant that the senior DA members learn each spell nonverbally. A nonverbal spell depended even more on wand movement than a verbal one; every swish had to be spot-on. Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein had a knack for figuring out the precise wand movements from written descriptions. When they came across the odd spell they couldn't master, Hermione would moan to Ginny about how good Seamus was at modifying spells to make them simpler. Such musings were fruitless, though, as Seamus had been withdrawn from Hogwarts.
"Yes!" Ginny cried as she cast an Immolation Curse on a target and it burst into incandescent flame.
"Nice one, Ginny!" Dennis Creevy cheered. "Agua! Do it again!"
She performed the upwards flourish again, but nothing happened. Again. Nothing. "Must've been beginner's luck," she said. Once more. Nothing. "Drat!"
"You had more oomph in it that first time," Dennis offered helpfully. "Your feet even moved."
"Really?" Ginny looked down at her feet and shuffled. "Argh! Now I'm just over-thinking it! Let's do something else!"
"How about I try the Pinprick Hex on you?"
"Okay, but if you're too good at it, I'll start practicing my Shield Charm." She probably should anyways. Defense was her weak point, as she always wanted to leap forward with a retaliatory curse instead.
Dennis grinned excitedly and rolled up his too-long sleeves. She'd asked Colin why he and Dennis had come back this year. "Are you kidding?" he'd answered, incredulous. "An historical event is about to happen and you think we'd miss it?" He'd been sorely disappointed to learn that Harry hadn't returned, but had channeled that into more photography and increased vigour in the DA.
Ginny gritted her teeth as the hex hit and her shoulder exploded in infuriating discomfort, quickly transmuting to pain.
"It'll be nice to get off to Hogsmeade, don't you think?" Hermione asked Ginny as the DA trickled out of the Room of Requirement in pairs to avoid attracting too much attention.
"I'm craving some Peppermint Toads," Ginny answered, hoping that Hermione didn't want to hang out in Hogsmeade together.
"I think I'm just going to go for Butterbeers with Morag and Neville. You should come."
Ginny's full bookbag suddenly split open, dumping books all over the hallway. She heard screeching laughter and whirled around to see Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass doubled over in a nearby alcove. "Grow up," she snapped at them.
Parkinson feigned contrition. "Well, we can't all be as mature as the Widow Potter, now, can we?"
"Shouldn't you be off giving Muggles makeup tips? I think that qualifies as torture," Ginny deadpanned.
"Get lost, Parkinson," Hermione grunted from the floor, where she was already starting to pick up Ginny's books.
"The Boy-Who-Lived gave you your very own mudblood servant, Widow Potter?" Greengrass joined in.
"Mudblood servant!" Pansy screamed, bursting into fresh laughter.
"Stuff it, Pansy." Neville had appeared on the scene and fixed Pansy with a disapproving look before continuing on towards Gryffindor tower, avoiding the fallen books. Parkinson raised a scornful eyebrow at Neville's retreating form, grabbed Greengrass' elbow, and flounced away.
"It's so strange," Hermione mused, standing with her arms full of tomes. "Here we are, preparing for war, and they're running around like idiotic schoolgirls."
"Weren't you the one talking about Butterbeers a few seconds ago?"
"That's not what I mean," Hermione said, flushing slightly. "Has your mum heard anything yet?"
"No. I told you I'd let you know if I hear anything."
Hermione seemed to accept that. "The Imperius Curse?" she asked, studying the books she was replacing in Ginny's bag.
"Yeah," Ginny answered easily, shoving When Good People Do Bad Things: Symptoms of the Imperius Curse and So House Elves Aren't Enough to the bottom of the pile. "Huge DADA essay on one of the Unforgivables."
"The Imperius has the most to talk about," Hermione said approvingly. "Plus, the implications are so much more insidious. Take Mr. Crouch, for example, going against everything he believed in! Could you live with yourself afterwards?"
Ginny sincerely hoped she'd never know the answer to that question.