Chapter Three: In Which a New Player in the Game is Revealed

Duel in the Dungeons

Melanie Jordan, Editor-in-Chief of the Phoenix Feather

This week there was yet another mass-duel outside the dungeons formerly known as the Slytherin dormitories, and several students were sent to the Hospital Wing. Tension between the students formerly known as Slytherins and the rest of the school is rife. And some people aren't content to discuss the situation like rational people.

"I think it's stupid," said Ravenclaw third-year Rochelle Rider. "I mean, I know the socio-political issues are really hot right now, but aren't we supposed to be united in our mission to learn, instead of fighting all the time? I reckon the Founders'd be ashamed if they could see us now." Indeed, the fact is, we are not getting anywhere with all this infighting.

However, Gryffindor fifth-year Rich Hamilton states, "This is war. I don't care what everybody says about the Battle of Hogwarts, this is real. We're fighting for our way of life, here! These Slyths just storming in and taking away what it means to be a Gryffindor! They have no right!"

In contrast, Ravenclaw seventh-year Tairi Malfoy would argue, "We're not doing anything wrong. We're just trying to adjust to something that, frankly, is really above and beyond the call of duty. And we have as much right to be in this school as anyone else who was never branded a highly undesirable member of society."

In short, everyone, if we don't do something, this school is going to be torn apart by conflicting factions. We have a responsibility to keep each other safe, whether we get along or not. Duels are always reprehensible, and more so when we're just doing it to ourselves. Remember, the more united we stand, the better we manage as a whole.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I'm starting a grass-roots resistance movement to try and overthrow the Wizengamot's decision. I've even got us a faculty advisor, Professor Joshi-Yap. She's great. After all Al's horror stories, and then last year's debacle, we've finally got a Potions Professor who knows her stuff.

Anyway, I'm having some trouble—there's this whole battle going on between Hamilton's group of Gryffindor thugs, and pretty much all the Slytherins—we've got to defend ourselves, and it's a bit dangerous, walking around the castle on your own. You'd think they'd come to their senses and join forces with me, since that way we might be able to get a repeal faster. But whatever.

Professor Parkinson-Bulstrode's really mad, too. She refuses to give out points anymore because she can't be Head of a House that doesn't exist. She's still perfectly willing to take them away, though.

Sally Simpkins has got to be the most idiotic member of the human race in mankind's existence. Do you know what she did the other day? She said the password for getting into the Gryff Common Room when she was trying to go out. Imbecile. I quite like that word. Vulpecula taught it to me.

Anyway, give my love to James, lucky bastard—he's graduated. And if any advice on how to overthrow evil, blind injustice in its purest form occurs to you, feel free to owl me.

All my love,

Lily

Dear Lily,

Your mother and I recommend not getting into too much trouble—and staying out of dark corridors. Remember, it's not your responsibility to convince the Wizengamot they're wrong. I'm sure it'll become obvious without your help.

Your mother and I (and your Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron, and Aunt Luna) all sympathize completely with your plight, and, if you're absolutely set on your campaign, we urge you to talk it all over with your Uncle Neville. He'll be happy to advise you.

James is fine—he's doing great at Transfiguration Today. He sends his love.

Your Uncle Ron wants me to add that he wishes you wouldn't repeat anything you've learnt from a Malfoy.

Your Aunt Hermione wants me to tell you he's just being a git.

Your Uncle Ron would like to know what your Aunt Hermione thinks she's doing, encouraging you to be friendly with the daughter of one of our worst archrivals. And a pureblood at that.

Your Aunt Hermione thinks your Uncle Ron shouldn't blame the child for the sins of the father, and that he—

Your mother wants me to stop writing down your Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron's inanities. She also would like to say that, whatever House you're in, we will love you, a statement I wholeheartedly endorse.

Be careful, Lily—and good luck.

Love,

Mom and Dad

"Mr. Quirke. Please, come on in."

"Sir, I'm honored to be here."

Professor Pyrrhus Quirke, newly of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stares around at the motley collection of wizards seated around the conference table. He recognizes several prominent members of the Wizengamot, and then at least half the Board of Governors…He gulps.

"Sit down, Quirke," invites a smiling Dave Montague.

He sits.

"So…" Montague continues. Apparently he's the designated spokesperson. "How do you find dear old Hogwarts?"

"Well," says Quirke, nervous but determined. "The castle is a shambles, sirs, it's absolutely disgraceful!"

"Filch getting on a bit, I daresay," interjects a tall, dark man whose name, unless Quirke is much mistaken, is Something-Old-Blood-And-Ridiculous Selwyn.

"I was referring," Quirke continues pointedly, "to the shocking moral deterioration of these young people! Not to mention the excess license permitted non-Newblood students! It's reprehensible!" In his eyes shines the light of a true fanatic. Not for nothing is Pyrrhus Quirke Professor of Non-Magical Studies.

"Yes," says du Winters, a senior member of the Wizengamot, distastefully. "But we are really more interested in the reception of the Abolition Act."

"Oh, that," says Quirke. "Of course, sir. Well, there's an underground resistance to it, of course—"

"Of course," nods Montague. "Couldn't expect the Slytherin students to take it lying down, now, could we?"

"No, sir," Quirke admits, recalling with a shudder a few hair-raising and public incidents. "But I meant the Gryffindors, actually—"

"So, they're resisting, are they?" du Winters says, smiling nostalgically.

"Not to worry," Ernie MacMillan adds portentously. "All we have to do is wait them out. Another seven years, and no one will be able to say they began their career in Slytherin." He smiles like the cat who ate the pixy at the thought.

"Yes," Quirke says patiently, privately agreeing that the Abolition Act was the right idea, and giving MacMillan his due for arranging it, "but—"

"That's right," Montague nods around at his fellow Governors, and inclines his head majestically to du Winters. "Another seven years, and the Dark Lord's—excuse me, You-Know-Who's—Hogwarts House will be a matter of history. We have much to be thankful for in this great age." He looks around at everyone with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Naturally," purrs Selwyn, and Quirke could swear he hears the faintest hint of sarcasm. "We must lead the Wizarding world into a new era of peace and prosperity."

"But, sir—" Quirke starts again, thinking of the Dungeon Duels and the very public and increasingly difficult to control violence at Hogwarts. "Really, don't you think—" He isn't sure what he's going to suggest, but one thing is certain: the presence of those good-for-nothing pureblood snakes in their dormitories is driving Gryffindor House in particular to mayhem and misery. If only they could just chuck all the students formerly known as Slytherins out of school, and perhaps into Azkaban, all their problems, Quirke feels, would be solved.

"You're doing an excellent job, Quirke, really," says Montague, getting up and thumping him on the back. "We couldn't be more pleased that we decided to reinstate the job of Hogwarts High Inquisitor—strictly unbeknownst to the press, of course."

"Of course," echoes Quirke faintly. He gets up, weighted down by the inevitability of it all.

"Thank you, Mr. Quirke, for your presence here today and your assurances that the Abolition Act is being so well-received," du Winters says smoothly.

Quirke opens his mouth, then shuts it again.

"Yes," says a sweet, girlish voice from the shadows. She leans forward, and Quirke gasps. He was so sure Dolores Umbridge was no longer a member of the Wizengamot, the Ministry, the Board of Governors…what is she doing here? "Thank you for your report, Mr. Quirke. It's just so lovely to know that everything is proceeding exactly according to plan."

She smiles; Quirke flees.