A/N: I'm adding a warning here for implied sexual assault and rape. On a happier note: I owe credit to the one, the only My Dear Professor McGonagall and her spectacular story "A Call to Arms" for some of the details of this chapter, like the idea of Ginny drawing a phoenix on the wall (which happens outside Snape's office in ACtA and I changed to the Slytherin common room for reasons I no longer remember) and Ginny inventing the slogan "Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting!" In fact, you will see me referring to "A Call to Arms" a lot in the upcoming months, so if you haven't read it yet, get started! And be sure to leave a review.
I neglected to consider the number of original characters required before embarking on this adventure and therefore decided that playing Quidditch into your early forties, as Emma Gordon does, would not be a stretch given the increased lifespan of wizards and their apparent resilience to injury. (Emma appears in my story "Sharing Life Together.") Finally, I corrected a continuity error from the last chapter regarding who has prefect patrol, so if you're interested you can reread the last four lines of "Thursday afternoon, the Arithmancy corridor."
Enjoy!
Thursday evening
the Hogwarts grounds
James, Al, and Louis exited the castle steps in time to see Ginny turn the corner. She paced the space between the Great Hall and one of the flanking towers and rounded on them as soon as they approached.
"You mean to tell me—" She pointed back towards the Entrance Hall— "that after being tortured, I'm not allowed to call them reptiles? That those—those—snakes are protected by some stupid rule? I wasn't allowed to fight with magic, and now I'm not even allowed to fight with words?" Her face was bright red now, her voice tight and shrill.
"Mum, those aren't—"
"If it weren't for McGonagall, I would have been—"
"What's going on?" Rose came around the corner. "CeCe said—Aunt Ginny, are you okay?"
"No, I'm bloody well not okay! Torture, and these prats are worried about house points!" She waved her hands at James, Al, and Louis.
"Should we get somebody?" Al said, eyeing his mother with alarm.
Dad, James thought, but that was impossible. "Louis, go get Lily."
"No!" Ginny lunged and grabbed Louis's arm—painfully, by his expression. "Not Lily."
"Get Longbottom," Rose ordered, stepping closer. "Or Madame Branstone, or Professor Goldstein. McGonagall. Anybody that was here when she was."
Ginny was crying now, curled into herself with her hands over her face. James's hands were like ice. He had never seen his mother cry, not like this. Sometimes a few quiet tears at the remembrance ceremonies, but not like this. Not like she was scared and vulnerable. James suddenly realized how small she was.
"It's all right, Aunt Ginny," Rose said, putting an arm around her. She glared at James and waved him closer. "James is right here, see? We won't leave you by yourself."
James put a tentative hand on his mother's shoulder, and she turned into his chest. Mimicking what he'd seen his dad do with Lily, James put one arm around Ginny's back and stroked her hair with the other. "It's all right, Mum. They can't hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you."
"Me, either," Al said, crowding close.
Frank and Professor Longbottom came running up.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Longbottom panted. "Frank said I could find Ginny Weasley here—you know, the girl who named Dumbledore's Army. The one who drew a phoenix on the wall right outside the Slytherin common room."
Ginny quieted a bit, peering around James. He turned so she was facing Longbottom.
"Bold as brass, she was, with her back to a roomful of enemies and some measly fourth year standing guard. You've got ginger hair, but you don't look a thing like her."
She sniffed. "I'm sorry." She took a step back and wiped her face, then began fussing with the damp shoulder of James's robes.
"It's fine, Mum. Here." He conjured her a handkerchief.
Madame Branstone, the school nurse, appeared, trailed by Louis, Fred, and Hugo.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake. Can't a girl have a crying jag without the whole world knowing about it?"
"Ginny, why don't you come up to my office?" Madame Branstone said. "I can—"
"No," Ginny said, and James was relieved to hear the familiar stubbornness. "I'm perfectly fine, Ellie, just embarrassed, is all."
"Just a quick exam—"
"No. It's nothing."
Madame Branstone gave her a shrewd look. "You'll come see me if you're not feeling well tomorrow?"
Ginny's shoulders relaxed. "I will. I promise."
"Very well, then. Children, inside please."
Frank, Louis, Fred, and Hugo obeyed, but James, Al, and Rose remained close to Ginny.
"Run along, Rosie," Ginny said, giving her hand a squeeze. "Thank you for helping, but I'm fine now."
Rose did not look convinced, but she followed Madame Branstone's beckoning gesture, looking back over her shoulder before she turned out of sight.
"Let's go up to my office," Longbottom said.
He led the way into the castle, across the less-crowded Entrance Hall (where they still drew several curious looks) and up the stairs. James and Al let Ginny take the seat closest to the fire, and Longbottom conjured another chair.
"Can I Floo-call Harry?"
"Of course you can. The brown jar on the mantel."
But Ginny did not stick her head into the emerald flames after calling out their address; she stepped into the fireplace and spun out of sight. Longbottom sighed.
"What the hell was that about?" James demanded.
"What happened?"
"I got heckled by some Slytherins, she snapped back at them, and when we tried to explain the rule about no House-related insults—"
"She freaked out," Al said. "Started yelling about snakes and detentions and Crucio."
Longbottom sighed again, rubbing his temples. "What have your parents told you about the last year of the war? Here, at Hogwarts?"
James and Al looked at each other. "Not much," James said.
"Did she really name Dumbledore's Army?" Al said. "Not Dad?"
Longbottom smiled. "No, it was your mum. And she came up with our slogan that last year too: 'Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting.' You know Death Eaters taught at Hogwarts?"
James and Al nodded.
"Well, DADA became simply the Dark Arts. After a few weeks we were assigned to perform spells on each other, and especially to anyone who had earned detention. Including the Cruciatus Curse."
"Mum was tortured?"
"More than once. Most of us were."
"By Slytherins," James guessed.
"Yes. Sometimes by the Carrows, but most often by sixth- and seventh-year pupils. The occasional Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw who had been bullied into it, but mostly Slytherins. Some of them got pretty good at it after a while."
"Shit, no wonder she hates them," Al breathed.
"She doesn't hate them."
"She can't sit with her back to them," James pointed out. He had noticed that last weekend, that no matter where he sat at the Gryffindor table, his mother walked to the far side.
"Could you?"
"No. I guess not."
"It was a Slytherin who tried to turn your dad in to Voldemort the night of the Final Battle, and McGonagall had them evacuated from the school. Even before the underage kids, all the Slytherins were escorted out. Not to mention that Voldemort himself was the Heir of Slytherin. And your mum's horribly conflicted about your sister," Longbottom added, "so you are not to breathe a word of this to Lily, do you understand?"
James and Al nodded.
"Why was Mum tortured?" Al asked. "Was it because of Dumbledore's Army? That phoenix you mentioned?"
"Sometimes. In the beginning it was for uniform violations."
"Uniform violations?" James and Al said together.
"She was fond of wearing your dad's Quidditch jerseys or one of the jumpers your grandmother made him."
"And they hexed her because of her relationship with Dad."
"Because she was bold enough to declare her support publicly, yes."
"She said—she was really angry about the prank on McGonagall, and—"
"A lot of us were angry about that, James."
He squirmed a bit under the dark look but went on. "When Mum first got here, she said McGonagall was a bigger war heroine than anyone who hadn't been at Hogwarts could understand."
"That's true. She saved our lives more than once."
"Your lives?" Al said faintly.
"I believe so, Al. McGonagall often interrupted the torture sessions, or covered for us when we were doing something for the DA, or just plain got in the way."
"She said—tonight, Mum said that if it hadn't been for McGonagall, she would have been…."
"What?"
"I don't know. That's when Rose showed up."
Longbottom stared into the fire, a muscle in his jaw ticking. The silence stretched thin, and still he didn't speak.
"We tried to protect them as much as we could, but … all the witches took a lot of harassment that year. We learned if no one was being injured to keep our mouths shut. They liked to torture the younger kids to manipulate us."
Longbottom's hands were laced together, the knuckles white, and James realized he was gripping the seat of his own chair.
"Didn't she hex any of them?" Al said.
Longbottom snorted. "Show up to detention with a wand in your pocket and you earned yourself another one. And you know the rule about magic in the corridors. There wasn't a single pupil who could have got within ten feet of Ginny with a wand and they knew it.
"Your mother—damned defiant, she was. She relied too heavily on her pure-blood status not to be seriously harmed. I tried to warn her, but she wouldn't listen. I wasn't blunt enough, I guess. It was McGonagall who convinced her if she didn't lay off, she was going to end up … hurt."
Longbottom's tone laced the word with meaning and James swore.
"What about Snape?" Al said angrily. "He was Headmaster, he could have stopped it, why didn't he—"
"He did stop some of it, Al," Longbottom said gently. "He set an early curfew so we would be in our common rooms more and out of the Carrows' reach. He ordered Ginny's dormitory searched and everything of Harry's confiscated, which seemed cruel at the time, but as I said, kept her out of trouble. He interrupted one of my detentions with a staff meeting. He acted where he could, but he had to maintain the pretense that he was working for Voldemort."
Al sat back and crossed his arms, looking mutinous.
"And now Lily's a Slytherin, and Mum's trying to hide her feelings to support Lils. That's why she wouldn't let Louis go get her. She didn't want Lily to know. Do you think she's okay?" James stared into the fire, now burning merrily in shades of crimson and gold.
"Absolutely. That was a long time ago, and tonight she got caught by surprise. She'll be more embarrassed than anything."
"Mum said she was thinking about seeing Dad tomorrow," James said. "She might just spend the night and go to the Harpies' practice from there."
"If I hear from her, I'll let you know. Okay?"
James and Al stood to leave. James turned back at the door. "Professor? Thank you. For helping her."
"Any time, James."
()()()()
Friday afternoon
the Owlery
Dear Aunt Hermione,
How are you? I've been wanting to write since Sunday but with Mum following me everywhere, it's been impossible. I don't want her to know what I'm writing you about, which you will understand as soon as you see it. Don't worry, it's nothing bad. I wanted to ask you to make a Christmas jumper for my best mate, Cameron Davies. His parents are divorced and his mum is … well, "flighty," to use Cam's description, and with Mum here fussing over me all the time, I think it's made him lonesome for his own mum (she was in Indonesia over summer hols). It's hit or miss whether or not his mum remembers to send him anything for Christmas, so I thought it would be nice for him to have an extra present. You know Mum can't knit anything that isn't square.
Mum showed me the lavatory where you brewed Polyjuice Potion as a second-year—I'm impressed! Don't feel bad about the cat hair. Anybody could have made that mistake. The Polyjuice was quite an accomplishment, so I've included a small congratulations gift.
Love from,
Your godson,
James
He had added the godson reminder just in case she was feeling overwhelmed by her jumper-making duties this year. With so many people in the family, all the aunts helped, but Aunt Hermione was one of the best. James frowned. He should have included something about her stellar skills, but it would be too obvious as a postscript. Hopefully he'd made Cameron sound sympathetic enough. James folded the letter, placed it inside the box beside the carefully wrapped catnip (rescued from Professor Burke's storage cupboard last week), and scribbled the address on the outside before securing it to the legs of his owl and carrying him to the window.
()()()()
Friday afternoon
the Hogwarts grounds
Ginny had timed her return to Hogwarts to coincide with the dismissal of Lily's Care of Magical Creatures lesson and was pleased to see a trail of pupils exiting the Forbidden Forest as she walked up the drive. Lily spoke a few words to her friends and broke off to meet her.
"Hi, Mum. Is everything okay?"
Ginny smiled. "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?" Just because I lost it in front of half the school last night….
Lily turned towards the castle, dragging her steps, keeping their conversation out of earshot. "I heard you argued with Bletchley and Warrington, and you weren't at breakfast this morning."
"I went to the Harpies' and the Arrows' practices today."
"How was it?" Lily said eagerly. "Is Emma's ankle healed?"
Emma Gordon was the oldest member of the Harpies, the last of Ginny's teammates still playing.
"She flew very well in warm-ups, but she's not on the roster yet."
"What about—"
"You can read about it tomorrow morning like everyone else," Ginny said, keeping her tone light to soften the brush-off. "I need to speak to—Bletchley and Warrington, you said? I was hoping you would introduce me."
"I don't know them that well. They're in Al's year."
"Can you point them out, at least?"
"I suppose so." Lily pulled open the front doors. "Why?"
"I owe them an apology," Ginny admitted.
"I thought you thought Gryffindors didn't give Slytherins the time of day."
"Things change."
Lily made a face.
"Have we really done that bad a job of hiding it?"
"I know you don't care that I'm in Slytherin, but you still think Gryffindor House is the best."
"You would too, if you'd been Sorted there."
Lily harrumphed.
They were in the dungeons now, winding through corridors Ginny had only been in during detentions in sixth year.
Lily stopped abruptly. "Mum, what are you doing?"
"I'm following you." She had, in fact, been waiting for Lily's protest for a while now.
"But I'm going to my common room."
"I know."
Lily shifted her rucksack higher on her shoulder. "You can't come to my common room."
"I've been in James and Al's common room," Ginny said innocently.
"Yes, but they're Gryffindors," Lily said, looking around the deserted corridor.
"So?"
"So, you are too. You went to your common room. There's nothing special about that."
"I bet your common room is special," Ginny said. "Can you see the Giant Squid? Or the merpeople?"
There was a grinding noise and a couple exited hand-in-hand through a gap in the wall ahead of them. Lily gave them a tight smile and pulled Ginny around a corner.
"You stay here," she whispered.
"But I want to see!"
"Mum! I can't bring a Gryffindor into the Slytherin common room!" Lily's eyes were wide, her mouth pursed at the very thought.
Ginny stepped into the hallway again, looking left and right. "I don't see a portrait. How do you know where the entrance is?"
Lily yanked on her arm, hissing like a—well, like a snake. "I'm not telling! Get back here before someone else sees you."
"How do you get in if there's not a password? Is there a question? The Ravenclaw door knocker asks you a question, and you can't come in until you get it right."
"No, there's not a question, just—" Lily put one hand to her forehead and closed her eyes in a gesture eerily reminiscent of her uncle Percy. Ginny had to suck in her cheeks to hide her smile as Lily opened her eyes again.
"You are a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors are not allowed in the Slytherin common room. Even first-years know that, Mum."
"I'm not a Gryffindor any more. Not for more than twenty years."
Lily crossed her arms and looked down her nose at the scarlet and gold rosette on the chest of Ginny's robes, and she knew the game was up.
"You're no fun." Ginny pouted.
"And you're a pest," Lily retorted. "Just stay here, okay? I'll find out if Bletchley and Warrington are in there."
Bletchley and Warrington were indeed in their common room, for they appeared behind Lily just a few minutes later.
"I'm sorry," Ginny said immediately, even before Lily could make introductions. "I shouldn't have lost my temper."
"Well, we probably shouldn't have said anything about Potter in front of his mum," said the taller of the two.
"No, probably not," Ginny said dryly.
"Is it true you beat Potter and Davies to the seventh floor?"
"What?"
"Potter—Al, I mean—he said you know more of Hogwarts' secrets than anyone."
"Well, if you mean secret passageways, I know my share. Which one of you is which?"
The two boys introduced themselves, then were joined by friends heading to the Great Hall for dinner. Introductions were made again, and Lily mentioned Ginny had just come from the Arrows' practice. Judging from the gleam in her daughter's eye at the boy's enthusiasm, Lily knew he was an Arrows fan. When two girls joined the little group, one of whom Ginny had seen in the prefects' meeting, the side corridor became rather crowded, and Ginny accepted their invitation to join them for dinner.
If it had been disturbing sitting with her back to the Slytherin table, it was even weirder to be sitting at it. But the children were including Lily in their conversation, and she was basking in the attention from the older pupils, especially—Aidan? No, Elliot. The Arrows fan. He was good-looking; he reminded Ginny of Sirius a bit, with his artfully mussed hair, high cheekbones, and devil-may-care attitude. These kids had no interest in her role in the war or her family. They asked what it was like to play for Gwenog Jones, and if Oliver Wood really wore the same socks throughout playoffs, and Ginny's favorite Chaser play.
Judging from the wide smile on Lily's face and the way her daughter was sticking right beside her, Ginny's popularity was finally earning her points for being the cool mum.