Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Peeves would so NOT have been cut out of the movies (this also goes for S.P.E.W., Winky, the swamp, the first few chapters of the fourth book, Oliver Wood's part in the third book, St. Mungo's, the Quidditch plotline in the fifth book, the whole prefect plotline in the fifth book, Firenze's part in the fifth book, the deathday party in the second book…you get the idea).
Author's Note: I recently realized that Sophie and Mundungus Fletcher share a last name. I didn't mean to do this—I saw the name 'Fletcher' somewhere else and I liked it more than 'Lane', which was Sophie's original last name, so I chose 'Fletcher' instead, completely forgetting about Mundungus. Anyway, that's the story behind that.
Once again, thanks for the reviews! They all made me smile. I hope you enjoy this chapter…so far it's one of my favorites. Please let me know what you think!
Chapter Six: Consequences
Summer was fairly uneventful, but looking back on it now I realize that it was the calm before the storm. In my little world, things were as normal as they could be. I had a summer job at Flourish and Blotts, which was quite convenient, as I got a small discount on merchandise. In need of a project, I started a small newsletter called "The Blotter", which had book reviews and recommendations. It was moderately successful and Mr. Flourish was so pleased that he increased my salary by a whole Galleon.
When I wasn't at work, I was making use of the large amount of spare time at my disposal. I didn't see much of Viv, as her trip to France was immediately followed by an invitation from the Crawfords to spend a few weeks in Spain with them on holiday, but she owled me fairly often. Angelina, Alicia, and I managed to spend some time together. Lee occasionally joined us, although I mainly heard from him in the form of an owl bemoaning our homework for History of Magic (or, as Lee called it, The Most Heinous Assignment in Recorded History). Fred and George, however, were strangely unavailable throughout most of the summer. Their excuses were believable, but the frequency of their absences was slightly alarming. They did, however, write fairly frequently (although many of their letters involved some sort of prank).
Although that summer was fairly normal on the surface, things were beginning to change. As Dumbledore predicted, the Ministry of Magic chose to refute the claims that You-Know-Who was back. The Daily Prophet was clearly under the Ministry's influence—any recorded news was frivolous and was often accompanied by stabs at Harry Potter and eventually Dumbledore himself.
I have to admit that at first it seemed as though Harry could have been mistaken in his assertion that You-Know-Who was back. It didn't seem possible that the Ministry and the Prophet could go about their business as usual when there was a Dark wizard at large. However, the day that they removed Dumbledore from the Wizengamot was the day that things began to change within my family.
"Outrageous!" Dad bellowed early one morning, rousing me from my sleep.
"Jacob, keep your voice down, you'll wake the girls," said Mum gently.
"How could they—look at this, will you!"
Curious, I slipped out of bed and padded into the kitchen, ignoring the fact that it was barely past six. Mum was sipping at her coffee and looking at the paper quite calmly; Dad looked furious.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"They've removed Dumbledore from the Wizengamot!" exclaimed Dad.
I was slightly taken aback. I didn't really follow the legal system all that closely, but I was aware of the significance of this action.
"What? Why?" I asked.
"He's 'too old', they think his mind's going," grumbled Dad. "If Dumbledore's going senile, I'll eat my hat."
"What's wrong?" yawned Brenna, as she walked into the kitchen. "I heard shouting."
Mum looked pointedly at Dad as she took another sip of her coffee.
"Ministry of Magic reckons Dumbledore's mind is going," I replied. "They've removed him from the Wizengamot."
Brenna paused momentarily, looking slightly perplexed.
"But he's so nice!" she finally exclaimed. Dad's angry look relaxed slightly and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. Brenna had met Dumbledore when she came to visit me in the hospital wing when I had appendicitis over the Christmas holiday. Dumbledore had pulled a Chocolate Frog from behind her ear. Although she was fairly used to magic, she was deeply impressed by the Headmaster nonetheless.
"Yes, well, it's much more complicated than that, poppet," said Dad gently.
"Jacob," began Mum, folding up the newspaper, "if you think the Ministry's off their heads, then…"
She and Dad exchanged a meaningful look. Dad sighed very heavily.
"Then…it means that he's back."
"Who's back?" asked Brenna, looking slightly confused. I felt rather envious, as the dark rumors I had heard had evidently not reached her ears.
"You-Know-Who," said Dad quietly.
Brenna gasped and clapped her hands to her mouth. My stomach lurched slightly. Hearing Dumbledore say it was one thing, but it was quite different hearing it from my father.
"What are we going to do?" I asked, shakily.
"Nothing, for the moment," Dad replied. I frowned slightly.
"What can we do, Sophie?" said Mum in response to the look on my face. "He's not exactly out in the open right now. The Prophet would have a hard time covering that up."
"But when he does make himself known, what will we do then?" I asked.
Dad paused for a moment. "I think we will have a better idea of what to do when the time comes. But my first priority is to keep this family safe." He glanced at the clock. "Oh bugger, I'm late again. Preston won't let me hear the end of it."
He Disapparated before I could ask another question.
"Why don't you both go back to bed?" suggested Mum. "Sophie, you don't have to be up for another few hours."
I nodded and headed back to my room, with Brenna trailing behind me. And even though I was quite tired, I still had a difficult time falling back to sleep.
Dad seemed to be hoping for some sort of change, but the Ministry continued to not acknowledge You-Know-Who and the Prophet continued to defame those who believed him to be back. Dad only kept our subscription because it served as decent entertainment (and he rather liked the crossword puzzles).
Viv was strangely silent about the entire affair. In my letters, she would more or less ignore what I'd written about the Ministry or the Prophet and make a general statement that didn't really express any sort of opinion. I wasn't entirely sure what to make of it—I finally assumed that she was too busy with her holiday to give sufficient thought to such matters in letters.
Brenna got her letter from Hogwarts and was positively over the moon with happiness. Dad and Grandfather once again bet on which house she'd be in, despite Mum's constant reminders that it didn't work last time. Dad picked Ravenclaw and Grandfather picked Hufflepuff, a reverse of what they'd selected for me.
August went by rather quickly, as it is wont to do, and soon Brenna and I were packing our trunks for Hogwarts. Brenna was gradually becoming frantic with nerves, despite my frequent assurances that she would be fine.
The morning we were supposed to leave was utter madness as the four of us scrambled to get everything together. Mum got rather weepy in the car, as she and Dad would now have the house to themselves. I reminded her that Brenna would be home over holidays and I would probably be living with them until I could afford a flat of my own. Mum seemed to cheer up slightly after this.
We got to the train station at half past ten. Brenna became increasingly nervous the closer we got to Platform 9 ¾ and frequently asked me to sit with her on the train. I gently refused and said that the train ride to the school was one of the best times to meet other first years and while she was always welcome to spend time with me and my friends, it was important that she also make her own friends. I also reminded her that Viv and I met on the train up to Hogwarts and perhaps she would also meet her best friend on the train. She did not seem entirely comforted by this, but she looked less slightly less ill.
"Sophie!" exclaimed a voice as I forced my trunk into the luggage compartment. I turned around. Viv was standing on the platform waving. I grinned, picked up Chester's traveling basket, and headed over to her. She had cut a good amount of her hair off—her waist-length curls were now roughly shoulder length.
"Look at you!" I said as we embraced. "Your hair looks fantastic!"
"Do you think so?" she asked, tugging on a wayward strand. "I'm not certain I like it much."
"It looks lovely," I assured her. "When did you get it cut? I haven't seen you all summer."
"I'm sorry about that," she apologized. "It's just I was in France and then Dan invited me to go to Spain with his family…it was all rather mad."
"It's all right," I replied.
"Thanks, Sophie," she said with a smile. Chester complained loudly from his basket.
"Oh hush," I scolded. "Honestly, you'd think I was torturing him."
"That's why I leave my cat home during the school year," said Viv. She glanced at the crowd and a smile broke out on her face. "Oh look! There's Alicia!"
We reunited with Alicia and were quickly joined by Angelina. There were many hugs and exclamations over Viv's hair. Viv left us to go meet up with Dan, who was looking quite freckled and tan himself. Brenna found me shortly afterward and attached herself to my sleeve.
"Oh, this must be your sister!" exclaimed Alicia with a kind smile.
"Yes, this is Brenna," I replied. "You've met a few times, I think—she's a first year this year. She's rather nervous."
"Sophie!" complained Brenna, flushing slightly.
"What? It's nothing to be ashamed of!" I replied.
"It's perfectly healthy," agreed Angelina.
"But honestly, there's nothing to be frightened of," assured Alicia. "Everyone's quite nice. And…" She leaned in slightly and lowered her voice, "I'm one of the most feared prefects among the four houses, so if anyone gives you trouble, you let me know and I'll knock some sense into them."
"I told you so," I said, nudging Brenna lightly. She grinned at Alicia.
"Brenna, I didn't know you were here yet!" declared Viv as she came back to us, arm in arm with Dan. She dropped Dan's arm to envelop Brenna in a tight hug. "She's my favorite Fletcher," she said conspiratorially.
"Of course she is," I replied. "She's much more adorable than the rest of us."
"That she is," Viv said. "Now, I've got a mission for you," she said to Brenna. "You've got to make as many friends as possible on the train and then you must tell me all about them."
"Are you serious?" asked Brenna, failing to conceal a disbelieving grin.
"Of course, I'm serious!" exclaimed Viv, adopting an expression of mock offense. "Honestly, this is no joking matter."
"All ri-ight," sighed Brenna, but she had a big smile on her face.
"Good girl," said Viv. She turned her gaze to me. "Your parents are looking for you both, by the way. It appears that you haven't said goodbye."
"Oh, right," I said. "Come on, Brenna."
Brenna and I departed from the group to find our parents, who had met up with the Archers.
"There you are," said Mum. She drew Brenna into a tight hug. "You have a wonderful term, dear. There's no reason to be nervous."
"She'll be just fine," assured Dad, drawing Brenna into a hug as soon as Mum released her. "Isn't that right, poppet?"
"I'll try," said Brenna, her voice trembling slightly.
"Be sure to look after your sister, Sophie," said Mum as she hugged me.
"I don't need looking after!" protested Brenna.
"That's what sisters are for, Brenna," said Dad. "Give her here, Maggie, I've got to say goodbye as well."
"Promise you'll be careful," said Mum as I hugged Dad.
"Only if you promise you won't worry," I countered.
"That's what mothers do, Sophie," she stated, smiling slightly. The train blew a shrill whistle.
"Go on, you don't want to miss your train," said Dad.
"We've got ten minutes yet," I replied, glancing at the clock.
"Your father's right—go on," said Mum. Brenna ran back for a few quick hugs. Mum and Dad urged her forward and she joined back up with me, occasionally stealing a glance over her shoulder.
"All right, I'll walk you on the train, but you've got to find your own compartment," I said. Brenna nodded, still looking rather doubtful and slightly pale. "Look, you're going to be fine, I promise you."
"Excuse me?" asked a small and timid sort of voice. A blonde first year was standing in back of me, looking rather nervous, but brave nonetheless.
"Yes? Do you need help?" I asked, trying to smile in a helpful manner.
"Er, well…I heard you talking and I was wondering if you wanted to sit with us." She looked at Brenna. "I've met two other girls and we were going to sit together and you looked like you were nervous, just like us, and I thought…" She trailed off hopefully. "I'm Kathleen, by the way."
"I'm Brenna," said Brenna, shyly. She looked up at me expectantly.
"Well, don't let me keep you," I said, smiling. Brenna grinned and Kathleen gestured at a redhead and a brunette who were waiting a little farther along on the platform. They both began chatting quite animatedly, as though they had known each other for years. I shook my head and boarded the train.
I found Angelina in a compartment a few cars down. She had already changed into her school robes and had her nose buried in a book called Winning Quidditch Strategies.
"Hello," I greeted as I opened the compartment door, sitting down on an empty seat.
"Where's your sister?" asked Angelina, putting her book down.
"Sitting with some first years," I replied, shifting Chester's traveling basket on my lap. The cat meowed mournfully in protest. "Oh shut up, Chester. Where is everyone?"
"Viv's with Dan."
"Typical."
"She said she'd try to visit, but I have a feeling she'll be rather…occupied," said Angelina with a sly smile. "Alicia's in the prefect's carriage, of course, but she's going to come down here as soon as she's able. Lee is here," She nodded at a bag on the seat next to me, "but he went back outside. He said something about an 'opportunity', so I expect Fred and George will be with him as well."
"Term hasn't even started and they're already causing trouble," I said with a smile.
Angelina shrugged. "What do you expect?"
"Nothing less, I suppose." I glanced at the small badge pinned on to her robes. "Oh! You made captain!"
Angelina grinned. "Yeah, I must have forgotten to mention it. I was surprised—I thought it might be Alicia."
"Everyone knows you're perfect for it," I replied. "Alicia's great, but you're the only one who's ever really been able to tell Fred and George off properly."
"Well, she is the 'most feared prefect between the four houses,'" said Angelina with a laugh.
"Not if you give her puppy dog eyes," I replied. Fred, George, and Lee suddenly appeared at the compartment door. "I see they've returned from their 'opportunity'."
"Oh good, I've got a question about that last essay question," greeted Lee, sitting down beside me and digging through his bag.
"Why, hello, Lee, it's nice to see you, too. My holiday was lovely, thanks for asking," I replied dryly.
"Where have you been?" asked Angelina, arching an eyebrow as though she already suspected them of wrongdoing.
"Conducting business," said Fred vaguely.
"Wonderful," I sighed. "Classes haven't started and you're already causing trouble."
"She missed us, I can tell," declared George with a grin.
"I don't know if 'miss' is the word I would use," I replied. "By the way, thanks for your last owl."
"How did the ink work out?" asked Fred.
"Just be thankful it came out of the carpet," I said. "Otherwise my mum would have had your guts for garters. What are all these things for, anyway?"
"A business venture," replied George as Lee shoved his parchment at me.
"Not the joke shop?" asked Angelina.
"Perhaps," said George with a glint in his eye.
"Products are still in development," said Fred. "But yes, it is something of that nature."
"Merlin, help us all," I muttered, glancing over Lee's parchment. "Lee, this looks fine."
"Are you certain?" asked Lee, taking the paper from my hands and reading it over scrupulously.
"Since when are you so concerned about your homework?" asked Angelina.
"Since my mum grounded me for a month on account of my History of Magic and Potions marks," replied Lee. "Now, Sophie, read it again, just to make sure."
"Where's Viv?" asked Fred as I read through Lee's homework once more.
"Guess," said Angelina.
"With Dan?" asked Lee. "Blimey. Didn't they spend a few weeks together in Spain?"
"Yes," replied Angelina. "But they haven't seen each other in two weeks so…"
"But she didn't see any of us the entire summer," I added, somewhat irritably.
"Oh, cheer up, Sophie," urged Fred.
"You know they'll die if they don't snog at least forty times a day," said George.
I laughed in spite of myself. "I know…I expect she'll be back to normal once term begins."
"Or once their lips fall off," remarked Lee.
"We can only hope," replied Angelina.
"Speaking of absences, where were the two of you this summer?" I asked.
"Oh, you know how it is," sighed Fred. "Family engagements…"
"House cleaning," added George.
"Irritable parents…"
"Family holidays…"
"Homework…"
"I have a hard time believing that last one," stated Angelina, raising an eyebrow.
"Had to get done, didn't it?" said Fred with a grin. His gaze fell on Winning Quidditch Strategies. "Where'd you get that rubbish?"
"Wood sent it to me," sighed Angelina, "along with this novel." She pulled out a very thick stack of parchment from her bag.
"What's this?" asked Fred.
"Three years worth of Wood's notes and strategies," she said, withdrawing another stack of parchment from her bag, "along with some advice and suggestions regarding my captaincy."
"Bloody hell," said Fred, paging through one of the stacks. "I'd forgotten how mad he was."
"There's an entire section on Weasley Management," Angelina informed him.
"Now, this I've got to see," said George, grabbing the parchment from Angelina.
The rest of the train ride was spent talking about the summer holidays, as well as a few demonstrations of Fred and George's perfected joke products. I let Chester out of his basket after a while and he settled himself on my lap, occasionally meowing in order to demonstrate his disapproval of being in a moving vehicle. Brenna knocked on the compartment door shortly before the lunch trolley came 'round.
"Is everything all right?" I asked as she slid the door open..
"I haven't got money for the trolley," she said quietly, looking rather shy.
"That's because I've got it," I replied, reaching in my bag for my moneybag. "Mum was afraid you'd lose it."
"I would not!" she exclaimed indignantly.
"Who's this?" asked Fred as I counted out the coins in my hand.
"Oh, right. This is my sister, Brenna. She's a first year," I said.
"A first year?" said Fred, with a devious grin.
"Excellent," declared George with the same sort of expression.
I gave them both a mildly chastising look.
"Now, Sophie," scolded Fred.
"We'll be nice to her," promised George.
"That's what I'm afraid of," I replied, shaking my head. "Brenna, this is Fred and George Weasley and Lee Jordan."
Brenna's eyes lit up in recognition.
"You were the ones who sent the ink," she declared.
"Yes," I said, passing the coins over to Brenna. "You'll do well to accept no gifts from them."
Fred, George, and Lee protested loudly at this.
"Go on or you'll miss the trolley," I said. She smiled slightly and headed off down the corridor.
"You act as though we're a bad influence," said George.
"Then what are you?" asked Angelina.
"Hope for the world's youth," said Fred, his eyes widened in an attempt to look innocent.
Needless to say, the conversation deteriorated after that.
Alicia finally joined us, looking slightly more frazzled than normal. Apparently some third years had set off a series of Dungbombs in a compartment full of first years and she had spent a good ten minutes chasing after them. She helped herself to a few of Angelina's Chocolate Frogs and soon fell asleep on Lee's shoulder.
We were all quite ready to leave the train behind us when we finally arrived at Hogsmeade Station (although we were slightly detained by Chester, who did not want to return to his traveling basket). I caught a brief glimpse of Brenna and her newfound friends heading over toward Professor Grubbly-Plank (a substitute Care of Magical Creatures teacher) who was ushering first years into the small wooden boats. I briefly wondered where Hagrid was, but was quickly distracted by a small problem.
Traditionally, Angelina, Alicia, Viv, and I would take one of the horseless carriages back to the castle while the boys took a separate coach. However, Dan Crawford's arm was wrapped quite snugly around Viv's waist and she boarded one of the coaches with Dan and some other Ravenclaws without a backward glance. Alicia, Angelina, and I exchanged a look with each other. We weren't quite angry, but we certainly weren't thrilled.
"Oi!" Fred called from inside a coach, breaking our silence. "If you wait much longer, you'll be walking up to the grounds!"
"Oh shut up," replied Angelina as the three of us clambered into the coach. It was a rather tight fit, as the coaches weren't meant to hold six people, their bags, and a protesting cat. However, by making Fred sit on the floor, we were all able to fit in fairly comfortably.
The procession into the school contained the usual amount of bedlam with people shouting greetings and loudly inquiring about summer holidays. The same third years who had set off the Dungbombs earlier gave Alicia quite a lot to do, as she had not managed to confiscate their entire supply. She finally grabbed them both by the collar and marched them off to their respective heads of house.
The Sorting finally commenced. The Hat's song was rather strange this year, as it seemed to call upon the school to band together in order to combat evil. With things the way they were, I wasn't entirely surprised, but it was such a break from tradition that I found it rather odd all the same. Brenna was Sorted into Gryffindor, along with her friend Kathleen Craven. Brenna beamed at me from the other end of the table and I smiled back.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, Dumbledore waved his hand and the food disappeared from the plates. He stood and began his traditional speech—welcoming new and old students, addressing out of bounds areas and banned materials. We had two new staff members this year—Professor Grubbly-Plank, who would be teaching Care of Magical Creatures, and a slightly unpleasant looking woman called Professor Umbridge, who would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Alicia and I exchanged looks. Clearly this was going to be another Lockhart year.
As if she had heard our thoughts and was quite determined to prove that point, Professor Umbridge interrupted Dumbledore and proceeded to make a very long-winded speech. It was difficult to follow and after a few minutes I gave up entirely. Fred and George were playing Hangman on a spare piece of parchment. Lee was checking over his History of Magic homework once again and Angelina had dozed off. Alicia was practicing her nonverbal spells and Transfiguring her fork into various vegetables. Viv had managed a look of forced interest, but her eyes had gone slightly glassy.
Fred caught my eye and slid a folded piece of parchment across the table. I unfolded it in my lap.
"What do you reckon?" it read in Fred's scrawled print. I retrieved a quill from my bag and surreptitiously wrote a reply.
"I haven't had a class with her and I'm already bored."
I slid the parchment back over the table. Fred unfolded, grinned, and passed it over to George, who read it, looked at me and nodded in agreement.
Umbridge finally ended her speech with quite a lot of alliteration. I clapped reluctantly, as I didn't want to encourage her. Dumbledore continued on with the announcements. He looked completely unperturbed at Umbridge's speech and hadn't even tried to stop her from making the speech in the first place—but then again, Dumbledore is particularly well-known for his tact. I hoped he found her as distasteful as the rest of the student body did.
We were finally dismissed. Alicia parted from us to help direct the first years. I noticed that Brenna and her friend Kathleen stayed particularly close to Alicia.
"I suppose there's not much hope that Defense Against the Dark Arts will be interesting this year," sighed Angelina.
"Not likely," I replied.
"If only the Snackboxes were perfected," said Fred wistfully.
"The what?" asked Angelina.
"You'll see," said Fred with his customary mischievous smile that was both amusing and vaguely frightening.
It was good to be back in Gryffindor Tower, despite the looming threat of schoolwork the next day. Angelina, Alicia, Viv, and I went up to our room to unpack our trunks. It was just as we left it, aside from the fact that the plaque on the door now read "Seventh Years". I went to check on Brenna, who was getting on quite well with the other girls in her room, apparently having shed her nervousness. Angelina and Alicia finished unpacking first and went down to the common room while Viv and I continued to unpack.
"How have you been?" I asked as I sorted through my books. "I haven't spoken with you much this summer."
"Really well," said Viv. "I really had a nice time in France this year—my cousins weren't quite as intolerable and it seems that Francoise has finally grown up."
"How was Spain?"
"Oh, Sophie, it was so lovely," she gushed. "The Crawfords are such lovely people and I really enjoyed spending time with Dan. Mr. Crawford works for the Ministry, you know, so we got special passes for a Quidditch match and we got to go behind the scenes at some of the museums."
I paused for a moment. That explained a lot…why Viv was so reluctant to discuss You-Know-Who, the Ministry, or the Prophet in our letters.
"Something wrong?" asked Viv.
"No, I just realized…you know, why you never said anything about the Ministry or You-Know-Who in your letters," I said. "Because of the Crawfords."
Viv frowned. "No…I didn't say anything because…well, because I don't believe any of it."
My stomach dropped slightly. Surely she was joking.
"What?"
"I don't believe it," she repeated, neatly folding a sweater. "It's all rubbish—You-Know-Who is dead."
"What about Dumbledore?" I asked. "Surely you believe him."
"Dumbledore is a very kind man, Sophie," said Viv, "but I'm beginning to think that he's not up for the job. He's getting rather old—the fact that he believes what Harry Potter says is an indication that his wits aren't what they used to be."
"You can't be serious," I stammered, feeling shocked. "Dumbledore is cleverer than the entire Ministry combined, everyone knows that."
"He was cleverer than the entire Ministry," corrected Viv matter-of-factly. "His age is starting to addle his mind."
"If you believe the rubbish the Prophet publishes."
Viv's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not stupid, Sophie."
"I'm not saying you are," I replied as gently as I could. "It's just that…well, you've been fed an awful lot of Ministry propaganda over the summer."
Viv pursed her lips. "Mr. Crawford is a greatly respected member of the Ministry."
"That doesn't mean he can't be wrong," I said. "What I don't understand is why you suddenly hold Mr. Crawford in higher regard than Dumbledore."
"Mr. Crawford is a brilliant man," she said curtly. "Frankly, he's shown quite a lot more sanity than Dumbledore has in recent months."
"Aren't you a little biased, Viv?" I asked. "After all, you're dating his son…"
"What's that supposed to mean?" she said, her voice going slightly cold.
"Well, you never doubted Dumbledore before you started dating Dan," I replied.
"Dumbledore didn't give me a reason to doubt him before this."
"Fourth year when the school governors suspended him, you were livid," I retorted. "He didn't have much more proof then than he does now."
"That was quite different," snapped Viv. "Then he wasn't claiming that a man had come back from the dead."
"You've heard the rumors, Viv," I replied, my hands shaking.
"Rumors aren't facts, Sophie."
"And whatever the Ministry says is a fact?" I asked. "Come off it, Viv. Just because you're dating Dan doesn't mean you have to blindly support the Ministry."
"I still have the capability of rational thought," she spat. "That's why I support the Ministry."
"Right," I said sharply, feeling myself beginning to lose my temper. "Dan has absolutely nothing to do with this. You've just changed your opinions to match his on a whim. It all makes perfect sense."
"Oh, don't try and bring your insecurities into this, Sophie!"
I frowned. "What?"
"If you're jealous—"
"Jealous? Oh of course!" I interrupted. "I want to treat my friends poorly and lose my capability of independent thought!"
"Excuse me?" shouted Viv, her cheeks flushing in anger.
"I may not have a boyfriend, Vivian, but at least I don't need one to tell me how to think!" I spat.
"Well at least I don't have to make things up so I have something to be afraid of!" Her face was white with fury.
"What?"
"You're a coward, Sophie," she spat cruelly. "The only reason you believe this rubbish is so you have something to be afraid of. Then you go looking for someone else to protect you. That's the only thing you're good at."
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. "Well, I certainly hope that Dan will be able to tell you what to do when You-Know-Who comes back."
I turned to walk away.
"Right, Sophie, walk away from a fight, just like a true Gryffindor," said Viv sarcastically.
I slammed the door behind me. I wanted to say something cruel back to her, but it was all I could do to not cry. And above all, I didn't want Vivian to see me crying. I didn't want her to know that she'd hurt me. Most of all, I wanted to convince myself that the things she said weren't true and that if they weren't true, they couldn't hurt me.
I walked down the stairs on shaky legs. The common room was fairly empty. Alicia and Angelina were laughing about something. I walked quickly past them and headed out the portrait hole.
Once I was in the relative safety of the corridors, the dam burst and tears began pouring down my cheeks. I could barely see in front of me as I walked quickly and purposelessly through the corridor, my arms folded tightly across my chest. Vivian and I had argued before, but never like this. This was something entirely different.
As I turned the corner, I heard voices I recognized. It was Fred, George, and Lee, no doubt returning from the kitchens, despite the fact that we had an enormous meal no less than an hour ago. I quickly wiped the tears from my face as best I could, bowed my head and walked faster. Perhaps they wouldn't recognize me. Perhaps I could go on my way and get everything out of my system before I had to speak with anyone. Perhaps—
"Sophie?"
Perhaps not.
I pretended as though I hadn't heard and continued walking, determined to get as far away as possible. I hadn't gone more than a few meters when a hand gripped my shoulder and turned me around. It was George. I tried my best to look happy and not upset, but his smile died rather quickly and was replaced by a frown of concern.
"Go on, I'll meet up with you later," he said, passing what looked like a basket of fruit to Lee and giving Fred an indecipherable look. Surprisingly, Fred and Lee agreed and continued on their way without any discussion.
"What's wrong?" he asked as Fred and Lee's footsteps faded.
"Nothing," I replied automatically.
"You've been crying," stated George, raising an eyebrow.
"It's nothing, it's stupid," I said, my voice catching slightly.
"If it's upsetting you, it can't very well be stupid," he said.
"I'll be fine tomorrow," I insisted. I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my shoulder again.
"Sophie." He looked genuinely concerned. It was a seriousness that I rarely got to see on either Fred or George. It wasn't because they were insensitive—it was just that they were happy most of the time.
"George, really…"
"Come on, out with it," he coaxed.
I paused for a moment before my resolve crumbled and I began to quietly recount what had happened. I told him everything. It all came out in a flood of words and run on sentences and I found myself unable to stop until I reached the end.
"I told you…it's foolish…" I trailed off.
"Don't be stupid," he replied sternly. "Remember my brother Percy? Head Boy? Humongous git?"
"Horn-rimmed glasses?" I asked with a faint smile.
"Exactly," he said with a grin. "He did the same thing this summer. Mum and Dad are still upset. We all are, to tell you the truth. 'Course I think we're better off without the stupid prat…"
I smiled slightly. "I just…I just never thought it would be Vivian."
"None of us did, love," he said, patting me on the back. "You'll make up by the end of the week and then you'll be thick as thieves again."
"I'm not sure about that," I said rather sadly. "We've never had a row as bad as this."
"It will be all right," he assured me. "Even if she doesn't change her mind, something will happen and everyone who thinks like her will feel right stupid." He said this rather grimly.
"Cheerful thought, George," I said with a small smile.
He shrugged. "It was the best I could come up with."
I smiled and paused for a moment. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," he replied, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"Ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Fletcher," said a kind voice, startling us both. Professor Dumbledore was making his way down the corridor, wearing a red dressing gown with gold stars. "Lovely evening for a stroll, but shouldn't you be in your dormitories?"
"It's my fault, Professor," I said before George could open his mouth. "I…er—I had a row with a friend and George came to see that I was all right."
"Ah, how fortunate it is to have such good friends," said Dumbledore with a warm smile. "But I must insist that you return to your common rooms. Mr. Filch has had a very long summer without issuing any detention and he is very eager to rise to the occasion."
"Yes, sir," I replied.
"Goodnight, Professor," bade George. I made to head back to the common room with George, but I paused and turned back to Professor Dumbledore.
"Er…sorry, sir, but I…I was wondering if I could ask a question," I said quietly so George wouldn't hear. Dumbledore nodded for me to continue. "I was…just wondering if…perhaps the Sorting Hat was wrong about placing me in Gryffindor."
To my surprise, Dumbledore smiled.
"You are certainly not the first student to question the Sorting Hat's judgment," he said. "I certainly have in the past, but you may rest assured that the Sorting Hat's wisdom is never questioned in the end." His clear blue gaze suddenly became much more serious. "Bravery, Miss Fletcher, is one of the more difficult qualities to assess because it can be found in so many different forms. However, the most important part about bravery is not what others think you are or even what you've done, but what lies in your heart."
It was the usual sort of cryptic pieces of wisdom that Dumbledore was fond of distributing. And although I was still uncertain and hurting from Viv's comments, I felt slightly better.
"Thank you, sir," I said. Dumbledore smiled and nodded slightly.
"Good night, Miss Fletcher."
I rejoined George, who was waiting at the end of the corridor. He didn't ask any questions and for that I was grateful. We made our way back to Gryffindor Tower without any further incidents.
I wish I could say that Viv and I made up the next morning, but that would be wistful thinking. She had left by the time I woke up. Then again, both Alicia and I had overslept and missed breakfast. We got to Herbology just in time. As Viv and I didn't have that class together, there wasn't much tension.
Charms, however, was quite a different matter.
Viv and I had always sat together and always partnered up in Charms class. We had done so since first year and I suppose a part of me was still expecting that we would despite our row the night before. However, when we entered the classroom, Dan Crawford took my usual seat next to Viv. I tried to not let my shock show and sat down in an empty desk next to Alicia, who, as always, was sitting with Angelina. Alicia gave me a questioning look, but I waved her away, mouthing that I'd speak with her later. I was feeling quite miserable when George sat down in the desk next to me. He grinned at me and began to take out some parchment and a quill as Professor Flitwick called the class to attention. I dipped my quill in the inkwell and hastily scrawled 'Thanks' on the edge of his parchment when Flitwick's back was turned. 'Not at all,' he wrote on the edge of my notes when the opportunity presented itself again.
We had lunch next and George was kind enough to spare me the humiliation of not having a partner that afternoon in Defense Against the Dark Arts. However, my happiness was neatly squelched when Professor Umbridge entered the room.
My initial misgivings were proven to be well-founded when she insisted that we reply to her queries in a sing-song sort of chant that was appropriate for small children. She then began to go about explaining the course aims. I was slightly concerned as I read through them. There was ample mention of theory, but absolutely no mention of a practical part of the class.
I was not the only one to notice this, judging from the frowns on the faces of my fellow students. Finally, Henry Grogan, an outspoken Hufflepuff, stuck his hand in the air.
When Professor Umbridge finally looked at Henry, her expression seemed to indicate that she regarded Henry as an unpleasant sort of bug that she really hoped would crawl away before she had to deal with it. She pursed her lips and finished her sentence before calling on Henry.
"Yes, dear?" she asked with a simpering sort of smile.
"Excuse me, but am I to understand that there will be no practical part of this class?" asked Henry.
"Well, Mister—?" she began.
"Grogan. Henry Grogan," he replied.
"Mr. Grogan, the Ministry of Magic has approved a course of study where you will learn about defensive spells without exposing yourselves to harm or risky situations, as some of your former teachers have done. With a proper study of defensive theory, a practical part of this class is wholly unnecessary. Now…"
Something boiled in the pit of my stomach and before I knew what was happening, I stuck my hand in the air.
"Yes, Miss—?" she asked, a hint of irritation tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Fletcher. Sophie Fletcher," I replied.
"Do you have a question, Miss Fletcher?"
I cleared my throat. "Forgive me, Professor, but it seems slightly untruthful to suggest that you can do anything merely by studying theory. You can read all about playing the piano—technique, music theory, everything—but that doesn't mean you'll be able to sit down at a piano and play a Beethoven sonata without any prior practice."
The room fell deathly silent and Umbridge's smile faltered a little.
"Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Miss Fletcher," she said coolly. "And I'll thank you to not think yourself cleverer than trained education experts. Now—"
But the damage had been done. Hands were shooting up in the air and people began arguing with Umbridge about our theory-based course.
"What was that?" mouthed Alicia as Professor Umbridge tried to field more questions. I shrugged, my cheeks burning slightly. George nudged me with his elbow, regarding me with an expression of awe and amusement.
"Brilliant," he whispered in my ear. My stomach lurched slightly with the full knowledge of what I'd done. If George Weasley was condoning my behavior, there was a chance that it wasn't the wisest course of action to take.
But as I looked at Viv and Dan, who were both silent while other students shouted out questions, I realized that I didn't really care.
"What a cow," declared Fred once we were out of earshot of her classroom. The barrage of questions had ended with many point deductions from all four houses and a detention for Henry Grogan, whose only crime was obnoxious curiosity.
"How are we supposed to learn anything for N.E.W.T.s?" asked Alicia. "Doesn't she realize that there's a practical part on the exam?"
"I'd love to say more terrible things about her, but I've got to speak with Trelawney about borrowing a textbook. I'll see you later," said Angelina before bolting up the stairs.
"And you!" declared Fred, suddenly turning to me.
"What?" I asked, putting my hands up defensively.
"All these years I've never heard you smart off to a teacher," said Fred, with an impressed sort of look. "I didn't know you had it in you."
I shrugged. "Hidden talent."
"You made her look like a fool," said Alicia delightedly. Her face suddenly changed as Viv and Dan walked past with a few Ravenclaws. "What happened?"
"Later," I promised.
"All right," sighed Alicia. "I've got to get to Divination anyway. I'll see you later. Come on, Lee, we'll be late."
She grabbed hold of the collar of Lee's robes and dragged him along with her.
"How are you?" asked Fred, once Alicia was out of earshot. George had mentioned to Fred that Viv had "pulled a Percy" on me, which seemed to stir some sympathy in Fred.
"I've been worse," I shrugged. "I can't say I expected anything different from her this morning."
"She'll come 'round," he assured me.
I sighed. "I hope so."
As we made our way back to the common room for break, something occurred to me.
"What's wrong?" asked George, taking notice of the slightly confused expression on my face.
"Lee doesn't take Divination."