A/N: A slightly early posting, since it's a long holiday weekend in the States. Hope you enjoy! I look forward to your comments and reviews.
Chapter Twenty-Four: They shall have stars
Hermione looked at Neville in disbelief. "You want us to do what?"
The open mouths and wide eyes of the others were testament to the fact that Hermione's disbelief was shared.
"You heard me the first time, Hermione," Neville said, sounding more confident than anyone had heard him sound before. "I've been doing a lot of thinking over the last couple of days. We need to be prepared, and in this case, being prepared means being prepared to kill. To completely ensure that a Death Eater does not have another opportunity to curse another person. Let's say you're a Death Eater, Hermione. I Petrify you or maybe Stun you. A few minutes later, another Death Eater comes along, casts a Finite or a Rennervate, and, whish, you're up and casting hexes again. Evil hexes, Hermione, deadly curses like the Avada Kedavra. You remember the pictures that Professor Snape had on his walls last year. Those are the kinds of hexes we will be defending against, and those are the kinds of hexes we have to learn."
"But those are Dark Magic," Dennis Creevey said in a hushed voice, as if the mere mention of Dark Magic could bring some doom down upon them.
Neville shrugged. "What's Dark Magic? I think you could probably tickle someone to death, and that would be dreadful, but the spell itself isn't Dark. I'm not talking about casting Unforgivables—and that's just a legal definition. It has nothing to do with the spell itself. Obliviate may be as bad as the Imperio, but the Ministry finds the first useful and the second dangerous, so the second one is declared Unforgivable and the first isn't. Not that misuse of the Obliviate can't get you in trouble, but it's not a mandatory life sentence, and it's usually overlooked entirely. We need to learn spells that will really protect us from attackers by making sure they can't attack us again."
"The best defence is a good offense," Dean Thomas said thoughtfully and nodding.
Hermione had been thinking while Neville had been talking. "All right, I agree with you—in principle! But what do you have in mind specifically? We can't very well be casting potentially deadly spells at each other, not even to learn how to defend against them."
"I came up here earlier this afternoon and asked the Room to give me an environment and targets appropriate for practising, um, certain sorts of spells. It gave me some very life-like models, dummies, I guess you could call them. They didn't fight back, of course, but I was able to try out a few of the more destructive spells I found. As soon as we are agreed about this, the Room will provide us more dummies tonight. I think we need to meet daily to practise, though not all together." Neville looked around the room. "I think if we pair up each sixth- and seventh-year student with one or two younger students, that would work. Set up your own practice schedules—it won't matter if they overlap, but it would be good if we didn't all disappear at once. Don't ever come and practise on your own—even you seventh-years! You never know when there could be a problem or an accident," Neville said sternly. "But since we aren't learning duelling and we merely need to perfect casting the hexes, I think that would be our best plan. Today is Sunday, and we should all try to get in some practice over the next few days, then I thought we could all meet again, all of us together, on Thursday night after dinner and we can discuss our progress and whether there are any new spells we want to try out."
There was a little discussion and some argument, but when Hermione and Terry Boot both backed Neville's proposal, the rest agreed to it, as well.
"Now I want to make something clear," Neville said. "Even though I have invited a lot of you younger students to join us, I only did that because I think you need to be prepared for the unexpected. If there is an attack on . . . on Hogwarts or the train or anyplace else that we may be, then if the third-, fourth-, and fifth-year students can stay safely in their common rooms or wherever the teachers or any other adults say to go, you are to do that and remain in safety. I have to have your word on that, all of you who aren't NEWTs level, or you're out now. You'll need to stay behind with the younger kids," he added, "and be their last defenders, if necessary. You can't leave them."
"But what if we can't get to safety?" Dennis Creevey piped up.
"Then you do what you must to defend yourself and stay out of the way of the adults—the teachers and Aurors and such—so that they can do what they have to without worrying about you, and then as soon as possible, try to find a group of younger students and keep them safe and reassure them."
"What about the Slytherins?" Barbara asked.
Neville hesitated at the third-year Hufflepuff's question. He had used word of mouth to invite everyone there, enlisting Hannah Abbott and Terry Boot to help him contact the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. He had drawn up the lists very carefully, but had included no Slytherins on them.
"If you become separated from your own Housemates, you must find any group of younger students that needs your assistance. It doesn't matter what House they belong to, even Slytherin. But we all know that there are certain Slytherins with close ties to You-Know-Who," Neville said, "and even if we invited someone to join us who we believed to be trustworthy, we could still be betrayed somehow. They aren't all bad, of course, but we have to be careful."
"There's Blaise, though," Susan Bones said. "And Marietta was a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin, and we were still betrayed."
"Zabini is okay," Ginny said, remembering the handsome Slytherin's defence of Eleanor Branstone and Susan a few days before, "but I agree with Neville, and I wouldn't invite him or any other Slytherin to join our meetings. Besides, they probably all know the kinds of spells we need to practise. As for betrayal, I think we remember the high cost of that from last time."
"What should we call ourselves?" Colin asked.
"Hogwarts Defence League," Dean suggested.
"They're Death Eaters, so maybe we could be, um, Life Lovers?" Eleanor asked.
Hermione suppressed a giggle, but not everyone else did.
"I think we should still be Dumbledore's Army," Ginny said as the laughter died down. "We're still fighting for what he believed in, and everyone knows that he was the one wizard Voldemort was afraid of. His Death Eaters will see that Dumbledore's Army is nothing to be sneezed at, either. And," she said, looking over at Eleanor, who was blushing, "Professor Dumbledore certainly loved life."
Other than Dean Thomas, who thought the word "League" should be in their name somewhere, everyone agreed, and Dumbledore's Army was reborn.
"Are we all agreed with Longbottom's plan, then?" Terry asked. At the nods and sounds of agreement, he turned to Hermione. "Do you have another contract like the one that we all signed before?"
"No, I didn't know we would need one. It takes a while for me to cast the correct charms." Hermione looked at the assembled students, all of whom looked serious. "We will rely on your words of honour," she said, "and you will find that there are consequences far worse than what Marietta Edgecomb endured if you ever break your word. I think we all know the seriousness of the situation, especially with the attack on Azkaban early this morning, and many of us have lost friends and relatives to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I think your word of honour is sufficient. If it is not, then no punishment that I could devise would deter you from breaking it."
"What about a wand oath?" Michael Corner suggested.
Hermione and Neville exchanged glances.
"No," Neville said, "we will all rely upon each other's honour, now and in any battle. For my part, you all have my word of honour that I will do my utmost to protect any of you, to protect Hogwarts, and to fight Voldemort to my dying breath if need be, and that I will not betray any of you."
One by one, each of the students bound themselves not by magic but by their honour, promising their loyalty and protection to each other and to Hogwarts, the younger ones being prompted to add that they promised to remain in whatever safety they could and only to join in any fighting when they had no option for retreat or in order to defend students younger than themselves.
Once they had done that, Neville divided them up into groups of three and one group of four, trying to keep them together by House, since he thought that it would be less suspicious that way if they were seen together.
"We don't have the same worries we had when Umbridge was here," Neville said, "but I believe that discretion is still important, so no talking about what we're doing unless you're in the Room of Requirement—never assume you can't be overheard by someone no matter where you are."
"Constant vigilance!" Ginny said in a gruff voice, imitating Moody and eliciting some laughter.
"Precisely," Neville said. "But I think that our motto should be, 'Don't be a victim.' There have been too many victims. Even if we die, we won't die victims! We will fight and we will do whatever we must, including using some very nasty spells if we have to."
"What ones did you have in mind?" Hermione asked.
"I think we might as well begin," Neville replied, looking around him. "I found two spells that were not terribly difficult to learn, although they may seem rather gruesome at first. But remember our motto: we won't be their victims. We cannot cast a little tickler and think that will keep them from killing our friends and our teachers. So I thought we would start with those two. The first is Decapito and the second is Exentero."
"You weren't kidding about these spells, were you?" Hermione asked rhetorically. In response to a few puzzled expressions, she explained, "Decapito cuts off someone's head and Exentero, um, eviscerates someone. Cuts out their entrails, right?"
Neville nodded. "Yes, it essentially disembowels someone. The dummies, or whatever they are that the Room provides, don't bleed, but otherwise they look pretty realistic, and it's disgusting. If you're going to puke, get it over with today."
"What if we . . . we can't?" Barbara asked timidly.
"Try it," Neville said. "Give it a go. If it's too much for you, just practise Stunning and Petrifying, but I want to see everyone try each hex at least three times before deciding they can't manage it. Remember, in life, these people will be Death Eaters trying to kill us—if not you, then your friend or family member. You don't want to be thinking that it's all right to cast these whenever you like, but in a battle with killers, things are different. On Thursday, we'll pick two more hexes to practise."
"Maybe less bloody ones?" Susan Bones asked.
Neville shrugged. "Maybe less bloody ones, but bloody or not, this is serious stuff. If you kill someone, they're just as dead whether you cut off their head or used a nice bloodless Killing Curse. It might make it too easy if it weren't so bloody and disgusting. Killing should never be easy, and that's one of, one of Voldemort's evils. Maybe that's why the Avada Kedavra is an Unforgivable and other lethal curses aren't. I don't know."
"It's partly that," Hermione said, "the fact that it seems so innocuous—for something that causes death—but also because you can't resuscitate someone who's been hit by the Killing Curse. Of course, cutting off someone's head pretty much eliminates any chance of survival or resuscitation, too."
With that, Neville called upon the Room to release the dummies, and he began to teach the students how to disembowel a Death Eater.
Melina furrowed her brow. "Yes, I think I can help, and Dad, too. I will need him. We will need to create a new potion. It would be good to have another Potions master work on it with him. Estelle can help, but her talents are very narrowly focussed on the use of plants in potions, as you know. From what you have indicated, we haven't much time." She shook her head as she pondered their situation. "As I say, I think I can help, but I can't guarantee anything. I will need as much information as you have, and Arthur will have to help, and by donating more than just the memory you just showed me."
"You, Murdoch, and Estelle could work on the potion on the island, that way Robert could assist you," Minerva said. "As for Arthur, I will speak to him. He will make himself available to you."
Melina shook her head, staring at the Pensieve and thinking about Arthur. "You know how most wizards feel about blood, but that's what will be required—and soon, if we are to have any chance of developing an effective potion, though there will be no means to test it reliably. As far as other measures . . . given both the memory and your interpretation of the prophecy, I believe there may be other supportive steps we can take that should help." She looked up. "I am not used to devising treatments in this way, particularly not in response to a prophecy. You have said yourself that you are unsure of most of its meaning."
"We are," Robbie said, "but I believe that much is clear. It is at least likely, given what else we know. It was one of the possibilities we had already considered."
"Have you consulted Gertrude and Gareth about it?"
"Not yet," Minerva replied. "We thought it best to contact you immediately."
"Even if you are correct, it may be too late to create a new potion in time. I will do my best, though, and there are other measures that can be taken. They may even be sufficient, though I would prefer not to rely on them." Melina shook her head again. "It may all be futile, in any case, as I doubt this would be a public event or that people would stand idly by while you cast spells and administered potions."
"I will worry about that aspect; you needn't," Robbie replied. "What are the other measures?"
"There is a specific spell that I can teach—a few, actually, but this one would be vital with or without a potion. Anyone whom you believe might be in a position to cast it will need to learn it."
Minerva and Robbie looked at each other, and Minerva nodded. "The two of us will learn them. There is at least one other whom you can teach, as well," she said.
"I will need to have a volunteer to practise on. Someone both trustworthy and trusting," Melina said.
"We will find someone for you," Minerva replied. "When?"
"Tomorrow. But I will need to see Arthur today, after which I will go to St. Mungo's and look at his records."
"He will be at work right now, but we will find some pretext to call him away," Minerva said. "You will wait here for him?"
Melina shook her head. "I need to return home briefly and fetch some supplies, but I will not take long. We will need someplace to meet undisturbed."
"You will have it," Minerva said. "Whatever you require. And I will find our volunteer." She looked at the clock. "I can have him here after lunch and discuss it with him."
Hermione stood nervously in front of the Headmistress's desk. Professor Crouch had pulled her aside as soon as she came in for Defence class and told her that the Headmistress needed to see her and that she was excused from classes for the rest of the afternoon.
"You are an adult and a full member of the Order, Miss Granger, and I would like to ask you to prepare to take on a specific responsibility. It may be that you will never be called on to exercise that responsibility, but I would like you to be prepared. Are you willing?" Minerva asked.
"What responsibility?"
"I cannot tell you. If you agree, then you will know what it is you have been prepared for if the occasion arises. Until then, you only need to be prepared."
"How can I be prepared if I don't know what I am preparing for?" Hermione asked, perplexed.
"If you agree, you will acquire a few specific skills that will be useful if certain circumstances come about. You will not be the only one being prepared. We do not know when, how, or even if, events will require anyone to use the skills. We need to have more than one person trained in order to maximise the likelihood that if the situation arises, there is someone available who can act quickly. I assure you, you will recognise when you need to act. It will not be ambiguous at all. And we will do what we can to ensure that you are not on your own—at least initially."
Hermione knit her brow. "I find it confusing, but if you say that it is important, I am willing. What do I have to do?"
"Go upstairs to my suite. Melina is there. Do as she asks. Oh, and Miss Granger," Minerva added as Hermione started toward the stairs, "I do not need to tell you, I am sure, not to let anyone know what you are doing. Not even Professor Snape, for his own safety."
Melina was pleased with Muggle-born Hermione's grasp of the basic concepts she presented to her as essential background. It was a relief not to have to explain what the diaphragm was, the differences between arteries and veins, or the ways in which respiration and circulation were connected and vital to life. That understanding would make teaching Hermione the spells and other techniques much easier.
Gareth arrived in Minerva's office, his demeanour much the same as always, although Minerva believed his smile was a bit nervous.
"Your volunteer guinea pig has arrived," Gareth said. "Where do you want me?"
"Upstairs. The guest room," Minerva replied. "You informed your mother?"
"Yes, though I wasn't completely sure I should. She seemed undisturbed, however, and she gave me this for you." Gareth dug into the bag he carried over one shoulder and pulled out several sheets of paper clipped together. He handed it to Minerva. "She wanted me to get a good night's sleep last night, but she was up all night with this. I haven't had time to look at more than the first and last page, but . . . I think you will be pleased."
Minerva grimaced as she flipped through the document. "It's all Arithmantic." She had brushed up on her Arithmancy and become somewhat more adept at following Arithmantic calculations, but the level at which Gertrude and Gareth were working was still beyond her ability to interpret them unaided.
"She didn't have time to prepare a report. She said she would send something with Fawkes later tonight, but I can sit with you after dinner and go over it with you," Gareth offered. "If, of course, my darling cousin doesn't kill me or turn me into a vegetable or something." He grinned, but Minerva still detected some apprehension.
"I am certain you will be fine," Minerva said. "Melina will be monitoring you the entire time, and it's not as extreme as what I had to learn to do last year. She is a good teacher and an adept and talented Healer. I wouldn't let her do this if I didn't believe you would be safe."
Gareth shrugged slightly. "Compared to what Snape has to do, this should be positively restful, and if it helps, well, I did say I'd watch his back. If this is the way I can do that, I'm willing. All assuming, of course, that the claptrap out of Trelawney's mouth is more than just nonsense and that you have interpreted it correctly."
Minerva shook her head. "We don't know whether our interpretation is correct. There is a lot of ambiguity in it. You know I do not like to rely on prophecy—I still don't think I believe in prophecies despite our experience with them. I think that who it is that has knowledge of the prophecy is more predictive than the prophecy itself."
"You always spoke highly of Quin—and of Aine," Gareth said, mentioning Quin's daughter.
"He didn't do very much predicting, though, and his divination was not as painted with obscurity, and Aine . . ." Minerva shrugged. "She is a typical witch of her line, better with interpersonal relations than anything else, and I don't think that what she does is even a matter of prediction in the sense of 'seeing the future.' I think she is very good at sensing the compatibilities between people and whether a relationship between them—whether marriage, business partnership, or anything else—has a chance of success based upon how compatible they are."
"Yet you trust in Arithmancy to help you make decisions, and you're trusting this prophecy now," Gareth replied.
"Arithmancy is different, you know that yourself. And this prophecy . . . perhaps our interpretation of it is influenced by what we already believed might be one possibility. In any case, this is a sensible course to take, prophecy or no prophecy."
Gareth shrugged. "It does seem reasonable, although even if you're right about what it is the villain will do, I don't know how any of you will be in a position to do anything about it."
"We will worry about that. Robbie has several ideas."
"Well, I'm off to die for the cause," Gareth said cheerfully.
"You aren't dying," Minerva said, rolling her eyes.
"I hope not. Mum might actually leave the island and hunt down Melina and whoever her inept trainee was."
"Hmmph."
Gareth bent and gave his aunt a kiss on the cheek then went upstairs to the Headmistress's suite.
Melina looked over as Gareth came into the guest room. "Hey, Gary, thanks for coming. You're right on time. We're ready for you now."
Hermione returned Gareth's cheerful smile with a smile of her own, but he thought she looked nervous. Nervous was good in this situation, he thought. There was no room for overconfidence.
Gareth set his bag on the floor and took off his lightweight cape. "Do you want me to undress?"
"No, that's not necessary, but since you'll be lying on the bed, you should remove your shoes, and you'd likely be more comfortable without the sporran," Melina replied.
Gareth didn't respond. He simply removed his sporran, setting it on a small table next to a vase of flowers, then he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his short boots, pulling his sgian dubh from his sock and putting it in one of the boots before lying down.
"All right," Melina said briskly. "Because this could be extremely uncomfortable and certainly disconcerting if we were to do this while you were conscious, I am going to put you to sleep for a while. Knock you out. I'm using a spell rather than a potion, since that is easier for me to control, among other things."
Gareth nodded, indicating his understanding.
"I know that Aunt Minerva has already told you this, but I will explain it again. While you are unconscious, I will use a spell to paralyse your diaphragm." Melina turned toward Hermione. "If the situation arises in which you will need to implement these procedures, there will likely be other . . . other symptoms that you will notice. Do not be concerned about them, whatever they may be. It is essential that you remain focussed on the spell and on your patient. Whatever other symptoms may be exhibited, this one is deadly. You must not allow yourself to become distracted. If you are, you may have to recast the spell. Remember that."
Hermione nodded. "I understand."
"You needn't worry, Gareth," Melina said, a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I will demonstrate for Hermione before I allow her to try it, and if she has difficulty, I can lift the paralysis very easily."
Gareth took a breath, let it out slowly, and said, "I am ready when you are." He turned his head and looked at Hermione with a grin. "Don't let this one beguile you with the Healing Arts—they are a fun hobby, but Arithmancy, that's exciting!"
Hermione laughed. As Hermione was still laughing and Gareth's eyes were sparkling with humour, Melina raised her wand.
"Suain!"
Gareth's eyes closed and his face went slack. Melina cast a few diagnostic spells, then nodded.
"Good. He will sleep for a few hours unless we awaken him with a counterspell before them, regardless of what we do," Melina said. Seeing Hermione's dubious expression, she added, "Go ahead, try to wake him up."
Hermione reached out and shook his shoulder, then she called his name, but Gareth slept on. Hermione drew her wand and cast a tickling jinx. He twitched slightly, but otherwise didn't respond.
"All right, now," Melina said. "As I explained earlier, the spell is called 'Prospirator,' and the incantation is 'Prospirote,' with a slight hesitation before the final syllable, 'te.' As you breath, he will breathe. If you hold your breath, he will hold his breath. If you talk, laugh, eat, or anything else, his breathing will be somewhat disrupted. If you lose your awareness that you are breathing for him, the spell will fail, and he will not breathe. If you must speak, maintain your awareness of him, and speak in an unhurried, unexcited way, letting your speech follow your natural exhalations. Be sure to inhale fully while you are speaking—often when we speak, we don't. Because you are breathing for someone else, you need to remember that, particularly as he is larger than you are and the strength of your breathing will have an impact on how well he breathes. Remember that if you have a real patient, he or she may be more compromised than Gareth is. Gareth is perfectly healthy. A real patient may not be. It is vital to breathe as deeply and calmly as possible. This sounds easier than it may be for you. It can feel peculiar at first to be so aware of your breathing. I expect you to practise that aspect of your training every night before you go to sleep, being aware of your breathing, breathing deeply, and becoming comfortable with it."
Hermione nodded seriously.
"I am going to paralyse his diaphragm now and demonstrate the spell, then I will allow him to breathe on his own for a few minutes before you have a turn," Melina said, "and then you can ask any questions before you try it, okay?"
Hermione nodded again.
An hour and a half later, Hermione was lying beside Gareth on the bed, breathing for him and practising holding a conversation with Melina.
"Whoop!" Melina said. "You lost it, Hermione." She lifted the paralysing spell. "But you did very well. Twenty-seven minutes this time," she said, looking at her watch, which was very similar to Dumbledore's watch with its many hands.
"How can you tell from looking at that?" Hermione finally asked—she had wondered every time Melina had checked her watch.
Melina leaned over and showed her the watch and explained the existence of what she called "shadow hands" that allowed her to tell the time in an ordinary way.
"So, shall we try again? I want you to be able to sustain this for at least an hour without having to recast it. If you end up having to use the Prospirator, you will be performing it under more stressful conditions, and I would not be surprised if you have to recast it repeatedly. You may also have interruptions over which you have no control, so the greater your mastery, the more likely you will be successful."
"You never said what kind of spell—other than the one you are using—could cause someone to need another person to breathe for them," Hermione said.
"No, I didn't, did I," Melina said with a wry smile. "There are a number of things that could cause someone to be unable to breathe on their own, not just spells. But one spell that can have that effect is the Petrificus Totalus. If cast too strongly, a person can lose the ability to breathe, and they can die within minutes, or their breathing may simply be somewhat compromised and they can die slowly over several hours from very gradual suffocation."
Hermione blanched. "The books don't say that."
"It isn't terribly common, but a wizard accidentally killed his wife that way a few years ago. He only wanted to shut her up and go out for a night of drinking. When he got back, she was dead."
Hermione swallowed hard, remembering how casually she and others cast the spell—even on Neville Longbottom, just leaving him to lie on the floor unattended. "We could kill someone with it?"
"Not in the type of practising you do here at school, of course. There's always someone around to lift the Petrification, for one, and for another, it's unlikely that most students would cast the spell forcefully enough for it to have that effect. Casting it in extreme anger or fear has an effect on how strongly the spell takes," Melina said, trying to reassure her.
Hermione nodded. She didn't think she had ever cast it nearly that strongly.
"Ready to try again?" Melina asked. "Mind on your task?"
"Yes, I'm ready," Hermione replied.
"Praecordiarigescere!"
Gareth's breathing stopped.
Hermione sat up, pointed her wand at Gareth's midsection, then said softly, "Prospirote!" A deep green light emerged from the tip of the wand and expanded as it hit Gareth's body, then it faded, and Gareth's chest began to rise and fall in rhythm with Hermione's breathing. She lay back down.
"Don't forget your patient! You must not get too comfortable and fall asleep," Melina reminded her.
"I'm too nervous . . . to fall asleep," Hermione said, trying to breathe naturally between phrases.
Melina grinned.
After a few minutes, Hermione said, "Why is Professor . . . McGonagall having . . . me learn this?"
"I cannot tell you," Melina replied.
"But you know."
"We each know what we must know, or what is judged best for us to know. I have confidence in Aunt Minerva's judgment in this. In fact, knowing what I know, I can say that I have confidence in her decision both to train you and to tell you the least you need to know in order to be effective," Melina said. "Now, I suggest we discuss other topics. Arithmancy. Gareth mentioned you enjoy that."
"I don't know if . . . I can think about . . . it and remember . . . to breathe," Hermione said.
Melina laughed. "All right, then, I will read to you."
One hour and ten minutes later, Melina stood by the bed, flicked her wand at Gareth's head, and said, "Mosgail!"
Gareth let out a slight groan and opened his eyes. He blinked blearily. "So, I'm not dead. Or we all three are." His voice was hoarse.
"Go with your first guess, Gary," Melina said. "How do you feel?"
"I have a pounding headache," he replied, swallowing, "and I'm very thirsty. Other than that, I think I'm fine."
He sat up and took the glass of water Melina handed him. "And you tell me that I have to do this a few more times?" He sighed and drank his water.
"We shall see," Melina said, glancing at Hermione.
"I'm not the only one learning this?" Hermione asked.
"You must proceed as though you are the only person in the universe who knows how to perform that spell, Hermione," Melina replied. "Do not rely on the idea or the hope that someone else can or will take your place."
Hermione nodded.
"Now, do you want to practise the intravenous injections again?" Melina asked. "I think you have the mechanical method down pat, but I'm concerned about your comfort with the charms method."
"Not on me, thank you very much," Gareth said, standing up. "Don't like the idea of anything going into my blood, even something harmless." He shuddered. "You can asphyxiate me, if you wish, but no injections, please."
Melina laughed. "I had her practise on me, Gareth, so you aren't the only victim today."
Hermione brought the conversation back to the question she was asked. "You said that the charms method . . . that you wouldn't prefer it for whatever this potion is."
"That's right. I do not know how the potion itself might react to the magic of the charm, so I would prefer to have it delivered the old-fashioned Muggle way using a needle in the vein."
"Then why learn the charm at all?" Hermione asked.
"Because even using a Charmed needle, you may have difficulty both in breaking the skin and in finding the vein. If the veins collapse, you may have to resort to using the charm. And I am conscious and quite agreeable about having you stick the needle in my arm. Even unconscious or partially conscious, a patient's natural defensive magic may make that more difficult—the needle could simply break off."
Hermione knit her brow. "That used to happen to me when I was little—I had to have all my vaccinations for school, and the needles kept breaking. I remember I was upset about getting a shot. They finally distracted me with ice cream, but they had to use a much larger needle than the others they had tried. It didn't happen when I got older."
"I'm not surprised," Melina said. "Although they would probably have had much better luck with a finer gauge needle. So, shall we practise the charm?" Melina held out her bared arm, which had some slight yellow bruising on it.
Hermione nodded and picked up a vial of clear liquid from the table.
"You two have fun with your blood-sucking or whatever you're doing," Gareth said cheerfully as he shoved his sgian dubh back into his sock and pulled on his boots. "I'm going to find some chocolate biscuits, some peppermint tea, and some Headache Potion."
"No blood-sucking," Melina said with a laugh. "It's definitely not recommended under most circumstances."
Hermione wrinkled her nose, lifting her lip. "Good thing, too. That's disgusting."
Gareth laughed. "I was just joking, but whatever you're up to, I'll be in the sitting room if you need me."
"No, no current students," Minerva said, shaking her head as she looked at the list Hooch had just handed her.
"But—"
"You will of necessity be practising in another location. I cannot allow any students leave the grounds at the moment. In addition, two of these students aren't even of-age yet—Miss Weasley and Mr Peakes. As Headmistress, I cannot approve their participation. Of the older students . . . if when the time comes, they are available to you, you may enlist them—although without any preparation, I don't know whether they will be more a help or a hindrance to you. For the rest of the list, they all look acceptable, but I need Charlie Weasley for something else, so you will have to do without him, and you can have Vector, but not MacAirt or Sinistra—they also have other tasks. I'd rather not do without Bill Weasley, either, but I understand why you need him now, though I may have to ask him not to fly with you on the actual day. Good choices, Rolanda," Minerva said with an approving nod. "Good, strong flyers, quick thinkers, and all reliable, too, though I do have questions about a couple of them."
"There were a few Slytherins on my original list, but then I thought . . . it's not that I don't trust those individuals, but someone untrustworthy might notice or learn something of it," Hooch replied uneasily.
"That is always a problem, I know," Minerva said understandingly. "You know that I hold no prejudice against your House, Rolanda. I have a few older Slytherins on my own little list, but I know that they are not in any position to betray us even inadvertently. When the time comes, they will join us here."
"You speak as though an attack is a certainty, Minerva. You didn't the last time we met."
"If not Hogwarts itself, then the Hogwarts Express when the students leave. You can see why I cannot make plans to simply close the school at this point."
Hooch nodded seriously. "I will be happy to help. I have asked Bill to join us. I hope you don't mind. He should be here soon."
"I believe that must be he on his way up now," Minerva said.
A moment later, the door to the office opened and Bill Weasley stepped in.
The smiling wizard shook Minerva's hand. "So, you're in charge of this."
"I don't mean to upstage your father, Bill," Minerva said, "and I have informed him of some of the preparations—both him and Shacklebolt—but Hogwarts is my school. I am its Headmistress. In addition to it being my responsibility, there are certain capabilities that I possess as Headmistress that no one else does. It is also simply a fact that, strategically, I am in place already. To have anyone else in charge of Hogwarts defence would make no sense. We are coordinating our plans, and I have the complete cooperation of your father and Shacklebolt. Provided we haven't any rogue parties out there as we did on Sunday morning, things should go . . . not smoothly, as a battle is dynamic and not completely predictable, but we will have a well-coordinated effort."
"I'm sorry about Sunday, Professor. If I had known what my brothers were up to, I would have said something or stopped them," Bill said.
"I am sure you would have. But you and Charlie did very well—even your other brothers, for all their impetuosity, acquitted themselves well. Fred and George are both on Madam Hooch's list, as is Charlie."
Bill nodded. "I saw a draft list when Rolanda and I met on Monday, but do you have a final list?"
Minerva handed it to him.
"I am glad to see that you crossed Ginny off the list," Bill said. "She's a superb flyer, but she's too young."
"And your mother would have my head if anything happened to her," Minerva added.
"What about Percy?" Bill asked. "He didn't play Quidditch, but he's better on a broom than he's usually given credit for."
"Your father and I agreed that we tell him nothing until the time comes. At that point, Arthur will invite him to join him at the school. If he comes, he is welcome."
"He's not a bad guy, you know," Bill said. "There's a big difference between being a prig with your head up your arse—er, excuse me Professor—but there's a big difference between that and being a Death Eater."
"I know that, Bill. I taught him, after all," Minerva said. "He's just one of those few Gryffindors who rein themselves in by deciding to adhere to the rules as strictly as possible. He's a bit more stiff-necked than some, but I know he's not bad, as you say. He'll improve with age. I did, after all." Minerva grinned.
"You were all rule-bound as a student?" Bill asked. "I guess I can see that. You've always been pretty strict."
"Mm, not that I didn't occasionally do something stupidly Gryffindor and break a rule or two in the process, but generally, yes. In a sense, it was a way of controlling myself. I had a bit of a temper, for one thing, and following the rules was one way I had of keeping it somewhat in check. I also always believed that the rules were there for a reason—I did learn that sometimes the reasons weren't very good ones or that they didn't always apply, but I think that Percy can outgrow his priggishness, as you call it."
Bill grinned. "I guess we'll give him a chance if he wants to take it."
"Did you find a suitable location?" Hooch asked, bringing the conversation back around to the purpose of their meeting.
"Yes, I did, I think. I considered the moorland you suggested, Rolanda, where the Quidditch World Cup was held, but as isolated as that is, I am still concerned about it coming to the attention of the Ministry." Bill looked over at Minerva. "I actually got this idea from Professor Crouch. I hope you don't mind, Professor McGonagall, but with your approval, we are going to use your Grandmother Tyree's place. I spoke to her this morning and she agreed." He chuckled. "She even offered to get on a broomstick herself, but I didn't think you would appreciate that."
"Where is the Tyree place?" Rolanda asked. "I assume it's somewhere in Scotland, but I'm not familiar with it."
"It's in the Highlands to the north of here, the most isolated place you could imagine," Bill said. "It's really not very far from Hogwarts, but if feels worlds away, and I don't think that the Ministry or Voldemort will have any idea what's going on."
Minerva frowned slightly, but nodded. "That's fine. Grandmother Siofre has been champing at the bit to do something against Voldemort since he killed her favourite grandchild more than twenty years ago. This may satisfy some of that need. I agree that no one is likely to notice anything way out there, and I can make you all Portkeys. I do wish Robbie had mentioned this brilliant idea of his, though." She sighed. "We're all too busy, but we have to make sure that we don't work at cross purposes."
Bill nodded. "I thought Crouch said something about speaking with you, but he probably forgot." He hesitated. "You mentioned her favourite grandchild . . ."
"My brother Malcolm—she loved us all, you have to understand how I meant that. It's just that he was rather extraordinary. She wouldn't have preferred another of us to have died instead, nor would I have, but his loss . . ." Minerva let out a slightly shaky breath. "Someday, we'll have to tell you more about him."
"He was Gamp's husband, wasn't he?" Bill asked. "Gareth's father?"
Hooch nodded. "Yes, he was Gertrude's husband."
"I do remember something about him," Bill took a deep breath. "Well, I won't let your grandmother get on a broom and fly with us, but this should give her some sense of contribution. I'm glad of that."
"Will you still cast the additional wards we talked about?" Hooch asked.
Bill nodded. "I don't think they're necessary, but better to take too many precautions than too few in this instance."
"I will leave you two to it, then," Minerva said. "Let me see the list again, Rolanda."
Minerva looked at the list, then she pulled out a fresh parchment, waved her wand, and duplicated its contents.
"I will make Portkeys for you—only four, so you will need to make arrangements for some to meet and travel together," Minerva said. "I don't want to have too many Portkeys floating about. I suggest that you and each of the Weasleys take one. And . . . a method of communication. Bill, can you sort that out? Some kind of Proteus Charm should do. Only to be used when they are all to assemble here at Hogwarts—or wherever you would like them to meet first, if you think it's better that you all arrive here together."
Rolanda nodded. "I think we will have a two-pronged approach. Bill and I discussed this last night. There are a few of them who can Apparate-by-Broom—or who have done it before at least once without Splinching—we're going to have them practise and use them as a vanguard. Their arrival should be a surprise. Then the other flyers will join them."
"I've never Apparated-by-Broom before, but I think I could," Bill said. "I'm going to try it. If I'm successful, I'll lead them. If not, we thought that Krum might do."
"And you're certain that Krum is trustworthy?" Minerva asked, looking at the list again. "I don't know him except by sight. It makes me uneasy—him and, what was her name?—Helena Benetti. I've never even heard her name before."
Bill laughed and Rolanda quirked a smile.
"I can see you don't read the Prophet sports pages or the society pages, either," Rolanda said. "She's Viktor's girlfriend—correction, his fiancee—and she is the Seeker for the Sweetwater All-Stars."
Minerva's eyebrows rose. "She's an American?"
"No, Canadian. She started with the Regina team her first year out, but Sweetwater is a better team and offers its players more money, so she took their offer a couple years ago. The North American leagues have a different season than we do, so she's in off-season until mid-June and has spent it with Viktor."
Minerva shook her head. "I don't know . . . she is a complete stranger. And what care does a Canadian with a name like 'Benetti' have for wizarding Britain and its fight against a Dark Wizard?"
"She's a good one, Minerva," Rolanda assured her. "And she won't shirk, if you're worried about that. Her mother's father was Irish, and although that doesn't make for close ties, it does make for sentimental ones. And her other grandfather, Ignazio Benetti, fought Grindelwald. She grew up with stories about him. Helena is also quite aware that if You-Know-Who succeeds in Britain, he will not stop there. You would like her, I'm sure."
"Even if all you say is true, she may be good on a broomstick, but we know nothing about her other capabilities. It's no good to have her in the air if she can't cast a spell," Minerva said.
"She attended Whiteshell Academy in Manitoba for all eight years despite being scouted by Quidditch teams since her fifth. I doubt she would have done if she were talentless," Rolanda said.
Minerva sighed. Whiteshell was a good school. Most students who didn't leave after the Canadian equivalent of the OWLs after their fifth year still left after their seventh-year examinations, with the eighth year being devoted to only one or two subjects, almost like a shortened apprenticeship. Minerva had often wondered whether such a scheme could work in Britain, but the traditions were different. Perhaps one day . . .
"Very well," Minerva said. "But I do recommend you take a wand oath from her—not just from her, but from everyone. Fashion it however you believe best, Bill, but I don't want us betrayed."
Bill nodded seriously. "I will."
"If there is nothing else on this topic?" Minerva looked at the two. "Good. Bill, do you know if Charlie has made arrangements to move the Hippogriff yet? I thought I would have heard from him by now about it."
"I think he's doing it tonight. He'll probably just move Buckbeak and let you know when he's arrived. I know he talked to Hagrid about it already, and Hagrid's going to reintroduce him to the Forbidden Forest, as you requested," Bill replied.
"And Ronald? How is he?"
"Still limping, but he's staying at the Burrow—complaining the entire time—and Mum is applying potion to his leg and making him exercise it. I don't know if he'll fully recover, but as he says, at least it shouldn't keep him from playing Quidditch."
"Good, I am glad to hear it," Minerva said, smiling as Rolanda chuckled.
"And the rest of your family?" Minerva inquired.
"All well. Fleur wants to begin thinking about having a child, but I told her it would have to wait until after this is over. It may be selfish of me, but . . . I would rather wait."
"I don't know." Minerva looked misty-eyed and somewhat unfocussed. "I can understand her desire." She blinked and smiled at Bill. "Even if you don't come home, she would still have the baby. You may think that it would be easier on her if she didn't, but I think that it would be a comfort to her, one less loss for her to bear—if she lost you, she would lose any possibility of ever having a child with you. I don't know whether you have time enough now, but if you do, you may want to reconsider." She shrugged. "Of course, it's none of my business."
Bill smiled. "I appreciate your opinion, though. Thank you."
Minerva looked toward the door. "Someone is coming up, so if we are finished here, I am sure that you both have other things to do this evening."
She stood and Bill and Rolanda followed suit.
"Come by in the morning and I will have the Portkeys for you," Minerva said, addressing Hooch. "And then you can tell me how the first meeting goes and who actually attends. And, of course, whether Bill Splinches himself trying to Apparate-by-Broom," she added with a crooked grin.
The door to the office opened.
"Did I hear 'Apparate-by-Broom'?"
Minerva smiled brightly. "I didn't expect you back so soon!"
"Everything went well and quickly," Robbie replied. He sketched a slight bow in Rolanda's direction, then nodded to Bill, smiling at them both. "Madam Hooch, Mr Weasley."
Rolanda nodded stiffly. She had had a bit of a crush on Albus Dumbledore when she was young. He was a hero, he had gorgeous blue eyes and broad shoulders, and he was the most powerful wizard in the world—at least that's what she'd believed, and still did. What wasn't to like? When she joined the Hogwarts staff many years later, it became obvious that he and Minerva were in a relationship. She believed that they were wholly compatible, and she came to envy them both that compatibility as she grew older and never found that kind of relationship with a wizard herself. She had always believed that Minerva was completely devoted to Albus. She and Minerva had never been close friends themselves, but with Poppy as a mutual friend, she had come to know, like, and respect the older witch. Every time she saw Minerva's reaction to this Crouch, she felt like shaking her, hitting her, and then throwing her over her broomstick and hauling her off to the Janus Thickey ward to find out what on earth could be wrong with her brain.
It felt as though she was jealous on Albus's behalf, which was silly, Rolanda recognised, but it was nonetheless true. And the fact was, she really didn't have anything against this Robbie. He seemed nice enough, and he was Gertrude's son, which was a recommendation in itself, as she had always admired the older Slytherin, but it just didn't seem right that Minerva could be in a relationship with someone new so soon after Albus's death. Rolanda didn't begrudge her another lover at some point in the future, but after a more decent interval. Surely even a period of mourning would be longer than the few months that had passed before Minerva seemed to have taken up with this new wizard. Rolanda found it difficult to believe that Minerva had mourned her loss only so briefly. And now her eyes lit up when Robbie entered the room just as they had for Albus. It made Rolanda angry with them both.
"Bill was just saying that he is going to see if he can master Apparition-by-Broom," Minerva said.
Robbie nodded and smiled. "I see." He looked at the younger wizard. "I have heard that the most important factor in Apparition-by-Broom is Destination—some would rank Determination higher, but my understanding is that because of the forward motion of the broom and the inertial forces, understanding the effect of the inertia and fixing the Destination in your mind is most important to prevent Splinching."
Bill grinned. "I will bear that in mind, Professor."
The two took their leave, Rolanda somewhat coolly, but promising to return for the Portkeys before breakfast the next day.
As soon as they were gone, Minerva put her arms around Robbie and leaned into him. "I was worried about you, leaving the grounds like that. I am glad you are back. How did your meeting with Aberforth go?"
Robbie chuckled lightly. "He was more than somewhat put out with me, but as I had hoped, he quickly agreed to help us." He kissed Minerva's forehead. "He's never disliked Severus, and I think that over the years, he's actually developed a bit of fondness for him, though I doubt he would admit such a thing."
"You know what Aberforth needs?" Minerva asked.
"I know, I know, you always say it, but really, if he wanted a good witch in his life, he could find one for himself, I am sure," Robbie said.
"Still . . . maybe after the war," Minerva began.
"Do you remember how old he is? I do. One hundred and fifty-three years old. He has not been in a relationship with a witch since he was around forty. I find your optimism quite refreshing—and your affection for Aberforth touching—but at this point, it could be seen as cruelty to try to get him to start seeing a witch. If not to him, then to her—I'm sorry, my dear," Robbie said with a laugh as she swatted his arm. "But truly, you would not be doing him a favour."
"Melina is seeing Mother tonight. I wish I could go," Minerva said, her sadness clear in her voice. She sighed. "We are supposed to be upstairs by now—I am, at least. She needs to teach us those techniques before she leaves."
"I still believe that there is no need for me to learn the respiration spell. The prophecy clearly speaks of a lioness," Robbie said.
"It can't hurt you to learn it," Minerva said, "and the others will certainly be useful. It would be best if whoever is doing the breathing doesn't also have to do the injections and the immobilisation, as well."
"Of course. You are right," Robbie agreed. "Let's get started so that Melina can get to the McGonagall Cliffs before it gets terribly late."
"I told Gareth he could stay in the guest room tonight," Minerva said as they walked toward the brass staircase.
"That's a fine idea—although with all the sleeping he has done today, he might be up half the night."
"Mm," Minerva agreed distractedly. "There's still been a lot of movement in and out of the Room of Requirement this evening. I wanted to speak with Miss Granger about it before she left this afternoon and find out if she knew anything, but they weren't finished until it was almost dinnertime, and I didn't want to keep her from her meal."
"We will sort it out. I could speak with her tomorrow, if you like."
"No, I will. I will ask her to see me immediately after lunch, so she may be late to Defence tomorrow."
"Very well, as you see fit."
Minerva stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to him with a smile. "I love it when you are so agreeable."
He shrugged one shoulder. "How could I be otherwise?"
Minerva laughed heartily as she opened the door to the sitting room. "I do love you."
"And I, you," he replied softly. "And I, you."
"I had to tell her, Neville," Hermione said. "I didn't break my promise to everyone. I had to. It wasn't a betrayal. It's not like she's Umbridge or a Death Eater, and she didn't say we should stop, or even ask many questions. And she was very pleased we were still Dumbledore's Army," she added, remembering the Headmistress's smile and the way her eyes had filled with tears when she had told her that they were Dumbledore's Army and always would be. "She didn't object at all."
Neville had a very uncharacteristic scowl on his face. "You should have talked to me about it first, Hermione. You aren't in charge, you know. It wasn't your decision to make."
"It was my decision to make. I . . . I've been working for Professor McGonagall for the past few months. I can't say any more than that. When she asked me whether I knew why the Room of Requirement was being used so much, I couldn't lie to her, especially after she told me . . ." Hermione shook her head, remembering what the Headmistress had said about the raid on the Malfoy mansion and that Angelina's death and Ron's injury may have been preventable if only Harry had bothered to speak to someone and coordinate with the Order. "I just know that I did the right thing. She does want to speak to you, though. She said to come up to her office after this meeting."
When Neville's scowl grew, Hermione said, "If she had been upset about it or wanted to stop us, she would have already. We talked yesterday after lunch, after all. She's had time to do whatever she wanted to stop us or punish us. I know for a fact that some of the DA practised last night and this morning, and nothing happened to them." Hermione rolled her eyes in frustration. "And if you don't stop scowling, pretty soon people will begin mistaking you for Professor Snape," she said, thinking that Neville would find this a horrific thought, and possibly even an amusing one.
"Hmmph, and would that be so bad, Hermione? I always thought you respected him."
"I do," Hermione said, feeling puzzled.
"That's good, because there's far worse things in the world than taking after Professor Snape."
Before Hermione could pursue the conversation further, more of the DA began to arrive, trickling in as planned so as not to arouse suspicion.
Once everyone had arrived and reported on their progress mastering the Decapito and Exentero spells, Neville said, "Tonight, I thought we would learn two more spells—less bloody, as requested—the Massuelius hex and the Frangere hex. These are more difficult to cast than the first two because they have to be aimed—or rather, wherever they hit a person is where they take effect. So if I cast the Massuelius and strike someone's arm, their arm may be damaged and useless, but it won't fully incapacitate them, and the same with the Frangere. In addition, the amount of damage inflicted will be proportional to the force with which you cast the spell. So the Massuelius, which essentially mimics a severe blow to the body—think of being hit extremely hard with a lead-weighted Beater's bat, for example—the Massuellius can do anything from creating a slight bruise to inflicting massive internal injuries and even breaking bones."
Neville looked around him at all of the serious faces. A few years ago, he would never have believed he could learn such hexes, let alone seriously consider casting them, and now he was urging others to learn them and be prepared to use them against other human beings. He overcame a slight wave of nausea and continued. "The Frangere is a shattering spell. It particularly affects the bones, although if cast strongly enough, it can cause other organs to burst. And the bones don't simply break, they become fragmented. It's a very nasty curse. Aimed at the head, it is almost certain to cause death, though not necessarily instantaneously. Aimed at the chest, the shattered ribs tear through the lungs and can even enter the heart. If aimed only at the limbs, the Frangere can still be very disabling, and an injury caused by that hex is extremely difficult to treat and can result in permanent damage, even requiring amputation."
Neville took a deep breath and prepared to answer questions while wondering one of his own: how would he—or anyone—live after a war in which he had cast such terrible spells? He did not know whether there was any answer to that, but hopefully, at least, more of them would be alive because of them.
Severus slumped wearily into the armchair across from Minerva. He was looking forward to rest, real rest, not the disturbed sleep he could expect that night and every night thereafter. Death would be welcome, he thought, if only because he finally might rest.
"I saw Longbottom leaving," he said, accepting the teacup Minerva handed him. "What was he doing here so late?"
"If I were to tell you, you would have too many more memories to hide from the toe-rag," Minerva said. "I will tell you, however, that Mr Longbottom has revived Dumbledore's Army."
"Longbottom has?" Snape squeezed his eyes shut then opened them, hoping he might feel more awake. He didn't. "You mean he's joined some newly revived version of it."
"No, he revived it." Minerva's lips twitched as though she found something amusing and was trying not to laugh. "He said that he was inspired."
Severus snorted.
"He named you as his source of inspiration, Severus."
Severus choked on his tea.
"He didn't say precisely what it was about you that inspired him, but he said it quite defiantly, as though expecting me to challenge him," Minerva said, finally giving in and smiling.
"Fear of me, no doubt," Severus scoffed.
"Mm, I don't know about that, Severus. Perhaps not having had to suffer through Potions the last couple years has allowed him to view you in a new light."
Severus just grunted and took a sip of his tea.
"So, what did the toe-rag want tonight?" Minerva asked.
"The usual—unlimited power, the universe cowering at his feet, immortality. And," he said, putting his cup down and looking at Minerva, "for me to kill you."
NEXT: Chapter Twenty-Five, At elbow and foot
Severus anticipates victory, makes a discovery, agrees to an exchange, and hears some good news. Minerva meets with Hermione, giving her instructions and more. Dumbledore's Army continues to train and is introduced to some new ideas when Robbie teaches them new spells. (30 April – 2 May 1998.)
Characters: Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Severus Snape.
A/N: Thank you to those gracious readers who have reviewed the story. I would love to hear from more readers.
BTW, when I conclude the story, which two characters do readers think should be the two selected on ffnet for the listing? I've been rotating amongst Minerva & Severus, Severus & Hermione, and Minerva & Albus. Let me know in a PM or review which of these three pairs you think best to use for this story. Or should I just go with Severus, all by himself?
There's several more chapters and an epilogue left. I hope you enjoy them! :-)