Disclaimer: Characters are still not mine!!!
Luna:
I was still mad until part way through the chocolate gateau provided by the house elves at the end of the feast. But, when Snape stood up at the podium, my anger came back.
"Students and teachers," Snape began, though I hardly noticed. I was too busy keeping my hands from shaking—by clenching them into fists. "This year's classes will be—different. For one, please welcome two new teachers. As our previous Muggle Studies teacher has now—" He paused "Retired, we now will welcome Professor Carrow" (Here a short, squat, dirty-blond woman stood up) "to the post. And, as I am now headmaster, I will not be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts any longer, so we will welcome Professor Carrow" (A man, also short and dirty blond rose.) "To an—" Another pause "equivalent position. Thank you. Prefects, please lead your houses up to the dormitories."
There was the usual clamor of benches scraping back and calls of "First years! Follow me!" But there was hardly any of the loud, joyful chatter that had followed Dumbledore's beginning-of-year address. I looked around the Great Hall to see students walking in a group of two or three, murmuring softly while walking briskly. One table, however, behaved as normal—the Slytherins. They would be, I thought, and I didn't need the rather shocked expressions of other Ravenclaws to know that my face was set in a scowl.
Neville:
I was more than a little pleased by Ginny, Lavender, and Parvati's reactions to my idea about restarting Dumbledore's Army. To be honest, I'd been thinking that they'd shoot it down immediately. I mean, for the past six years, that's what's been happening to my ideas: I'm the clumsy, not-that-bright-boy who means well, but often messes up. I hadn't really thought that any idea of mine would go over that well, or that I would see the spark of hope in their eyes as I mentioned it. That had been Harry's department, striking hope as "The Boy Who Lived" and all that. I have never been—would never be—like him in a million years, and I had never seen that hope directed towards me before.
The next morning, Professor McGonagall came down from the Staff Table and handed out the Gryffindor's schedules. I noticed that the other Heads of Houses were doing the same. I was surprised, as before, we got them magically distributed. I looked at mine, and was shocked to find "Muggle Studies" on it—I knew that I had not signed up for it! As I scanned down it some more, I found, not "Defense Against the Dark Arts", but simply "Dark Arts". Hoping against hope, I prayed that the magically-transcribed papers were in error, and classes would continue as they had for the six previous years of my life.
"Professor McGonagall?" I asked, as she neared me. "I didn't sign up for Muggle Studies. Also, there's a mistake on here. They didn't write "Defense Against" before "Dark Ar—" I broke off, meeting her eyes. She shook her head, almost imperceptibly, and I, with a sinking feeling in my stomach, resigned myself to the fact that she had comfirmed my fears.
"Muggle Studies is now a mandatory class, Longbottom," she replied in her usual tone, not showing any sign of her small, hidden, communication with me. "Do you have any other questions?"
"No, Professor. Thank you."
I did not have either of the two Death Eater-taught classes on that first Monday, but, during supper, I heard about them from Ginny.
"Professor Carrow, the woman, is a bloody nightmare! If she thinks that I am going to just sit around to hear, about one-hundred bloody times per class, how Muggles are subhuman, and how witches and wizards born into Muggle families—including in that class, I might add, one of my best friends—are not really witches and wizards at all, but almost as bad as Muggles, in her eyes! Honestly! She's just barely beyond a gorilla herself!" Ginny stabbed her fork into her salad, evidently expressing her anger as calmly as possible. "I haven't had a class from the man, but, I'm not looking forward to it on Wednesday! If I had them in the same day, I'd probably kill myself—or them!" She laughed, but I could see the fire in her usually happy eyes, and knew that probably 75% of the school would be feeling that way.
That evening, alone in the dormitory, I dragged my trunk out from underneath my bed.
Clearing the bottom of the trunk on the left side, I found the envelope Spell-o-Taped to the silk lining. I detatched the envelope, and opened it up. I dumped my signal Galleon out into my hand, Hermione's creation glittering in the candlelight.
A/N: Sorry that it's taken me longer than a snail completing an Iron Man to post this! But, I've had a trip to Italy, Violin, Trombone, Rhythmic Gymnastics, and SCHOOL, which means I don't have any free time to write! (I barely have time to sleep!!)