Chapter Six: In Which There is a Lot of Arguing

"That was some Halloween," Albus Potter says neutrally at the next Slytherin's Army meeting. He's had another row with his cousin and best friend Rose Weasley about what she sees in that Malfoy git, and consequently he's trying for a détente.

"Yeah," Rose agrees absently. She's got Jinxes for the Jinxed open on her lap. Nearby, Scorpius is sprawled on one of the many green couches, wrestling with his Herbology homework. Literally; his Fanged Geranium has a hold of one green sleeve, and he's attempting to coax it to let go.

"Okay, everyone," Lily drawls from her throne—her chair, that is, of course, her chair, Albus reminds himself. Her friends, the strange dark-haired boy and the youngest Malfoy girl, are perched on either side of her again. "We need to find out who gave us all that fabulous lightshow last night. Thoughts? Suggestions?"

"Must've been Hamilton," argues Magnus. "I mean, who else could it have been?"

"Anyone who hates Slytherin," Louis points out. "And it's not Hamilton—I got a whiff of whoever-did-it's magical signature, and I'd have recognized his."

"And how do we know you're telling the truth?" Magnus demands. "After all, you're a Gryffindor."

"Yeah," agrees Bree. "This can't really be that important to you."

Louis looks angry. "I'm Head Boy," he growls. "So any student threatening any other student is my responsibility. 'Slytherin must die'—kind of suggestive, don't you think?"

"Why are we so sure it's a student?" asks Tairi. "It's not like no adults have ever hated us. Though I don't see how anyone could've snuck in…unless it was Quirke, he's so weird…"

"You recognized whoever's magical signature?" Lily asks Louis. "So if they cast something in front of you, you'd know it was them?"

"Probably," Louis admits, not willing to say for sure. "But I could be wrong, you know, it was only for a second…"

"What good is that when we don't even have any idea who it was?" complains Tyler Higgins despairingly. "Face it, we're fighting a losing battle."

"Don't give up," Vulpecula says. "You have morality on your side—you can't lose."

Magnus snorts, and Tyler lets out a bitter laugh. Several of the nearby Slytherins are smiling, too. "Don't be naïve," Bree says harshly. "If that isn't just like a Gryffindor."

Dear Neville,

I'm worried about Lily. She seems to be taking this whole Slytherin Abolition thing rather personally. I was hoping that you might talk to her, try and make her see reason. It's not as though Abolition has so much to do with her, after all.

I'm worried about what she might do—she's very opinionated, very stubborn. She's just like her grandmother. She can't stand injustice.

How are things, really? Lily owled us, and she claims there's dueling in the corridors, and it's not safe to wander around the castle. Is she just exaggerating? After all, it's not as though people are making much of a fuss about it here. Even the people you would expect—Draco and his parents, say—are keeping quiet about it.

I'm not sure what to think.

I would appreciate anything you can do to help Lily deal with this in a healthy, non-dangerous way.

Yours,

Harry

P.S. You're still coming for Christmas dinner, right? I know you have responsibilities at Hogwarts, but we all miss you and Hannah and little Daisy.

Calling All Freethinking Wizards and Witches

Connor Finnigan, staff writer of the Phoenix Feather

Halloween. The holiday people spend gorging themselves on candy and dressing up in outlandish costumes to try and forget their drab, pathetic lives.

This year, the time-honored custom was shaken up when magic gate-crashed an insipid, otherwise-insignificant celebration in the dungeons. Although it was, in fact, forbidden, the revelers had no knowledge of this, so their attempts to 'let their hair down' were even more woefully feeble.

A stunning combination of words and light, the performance was truly, destructively poetic. It combined danger with elegance, art with politics…glorious genius at work. It elevated yet another dull Halloween party into something extraordinary, something students will be talking of for years to come.

The message itself, "SLYTHERIN MUST DIE!", sends a powerful wake-up call to hordes of fat, lazy politicians, who think they can merely sweep the vile name of Hogwarts' most loathsome founder under the rug, and thereby be finished with his groveling adherents.

Those of us who live and work here at Hogwarts know better. If one wants to destroy something, one must cut off its head.

"I think we've found our gate-crasher," Luther says slowly. There's a curious calm in the air. He's got the Phoenix Feather open before him on the arm of a green couch, and his eyes are narrowed. Luther feels trouble brewing; it's like a cold wind across his skin.

"Tairi was so totally right," V says, having just reached the end of the editorial. "What a show-off." She sounds disgusted, but the horror of what's happening hasn't gotten through to her. V, a Gryffindor, has nothing but contempt for those who fight their battles solely in words—Ravenclaws like Connor Finnigan barely encroach upon her radar.

Lily, leaning over Luther's shoulder, is amazed that she's still so calm. She really has grown up a lot since the days when her cousin Dominique could drive her speechless with fury using only ordinary bullying tactics.

After all—"This is a threat," she says, pointing to the last sentence. "Even if Finnigan doesn't follow through, he's given our enemies a manifesto." It's true—'SLYTHERIN MUST DIE!' is not a motto it's easy to forget.

Lily feels a curious sort of relief. She's not making this up. And it's not paranoid if they really are out to get you.

Elsewhere, Lily's parents do not share her sangfroid.

"I'm really worried about her, Gin," Harry Potter says, pacing the kitchen floor of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. "We never had this much trouble with James or Al, even including all the trips to see the Headmistress over James."

"Maybe it's all for the best," suggests Ginny Potter, from her seat near the door. "We weren't exactly pleased when Lily got Sorted into Slytherin. Maybe this is her chance to get over all that brooding and sulking, and be a happier, more normal child."

Harry frowns at her. "Little chance of that, while she thinks there's injustice. And she's not wrong, you know. It doesn't make sense to get rid of Slytherin. Hogwarts had four Founders, and their legacy shouldn't be ignored—"

"Voldemort was in Slytherin," counters Ginny. "And all the Death Eaters."

"Except Pettigrew," Harry says quickly. He's unwilling to forget, or let anyone else forget, his parents' traitorous friend. "And Snape was good, let's not gloss over that—"

Ginny rolls her eyes. Not another Snape-the-hero speech. She's heard it all too many times before. And if he was really so good, he could have been nicer, a better teacher (not that she's forgotten any of the potions he taught them, no, they're all embedded in her mind due to trauma), and what about her sixth year, the year from hell? He could have given them some sign, could have defended them from the Carrows—no, Ginny's not about to forgive Snape.

"And," Harry adds, not quite sheepishly, "what about the Malfoys?"

"What about them?" Ginny's voice is cold.

"Draco's really not that bad," Harry persists. "And his kids have turned out all right, so he can't be too evil. Tairi's so intelligent, and really very polite—haven't seen much of young Scorpius, but Al's always complaining about how close he and Rosie are, and she's got excellent taste—and Vulpecula (what a name!) is one of our Lily's best friends."

"I know, I know," Ginny admits, sighing. "I still say my son is too good for that Malfoy girl—I don't know what James sees in her."

Harry opens his mouth.

"And don't tell me!" Ginny orders. "I don't want to hear it. Besides, all you've said is that some Slytherins aren't quite as bad as the rest. Maybe they'd be even better if they were never in Slytherin in the first place."

"You know, much as it astounds, I do actually know some Wizarding history," Harry says slowly. "And, to be fair, the Slytherins aren't always the bad guys. The Gryffindors aren't even always the good guys. And maybe some of all this conflict would be solved if we just let each other live in peace."

Ginny shrugs. "Maybe, but can you seriously see that happening in our lifetime? Harry, if we can't control the bad element, whether it's just the Slytherins or not, who can?"

Harry frowns again, and there is a brief silence. "I thought we were talking about Lily," Harry says at last.

Ginny fusses with the tablecloth and won't meet his eyes.