30th August

"Unfortunately, we all know why we are here today."

Linda, Will and Colin Creevey all nod their heads. "Country's gone to the dogs." Will mutters. Colin agrees with him, he has reason to. Muggle borns are being expelled from Hogwarts en masse; and Colin's chances of a successful career in photography look poor.

"Incorrect." He looks at me confused. "The country was already with the dogs. But the dogs have turned into wolves."

"Well, we can't just sit here!" says Linda fervently. "We have to do something. Question is, what can we do?"

"Anything!" Colin pipes up. "At least, that's what Dumbledore always said." At the mention of him he gives me a little pat on the shoulder.

My sleeves are a little overlong and I twist them around in my hands, thinking. "We should get them before they get us."

I speak from the heart. My relationship with this new regime is tentative at best. I resigned two days after the fall of the Ministry, saying that since my methods matched those of Scrimgeour's, I would not be useful to a new and different Minister. That sort of thing is not uncommon; and they accepted wholeheartedly- basically told me to clear out. The state of matters between myself and the powers that be is delicate; at the moment both of us are sticking our hands in the sand and pretending the other doesn't exist, but uneasy peace never ends happily. Something has to give and I would far rather make the first move than them.

"How do you suggest we do that?"

"We beat them at their own game" I whisper, more to myself than anyone else.

"What?"

"If they can take what they want, do what they want, so shall we. What do we want?"

The answer is so obvious, it almost doesn't need to be said.

"To go to school."

"Exactly. Hogwarts School, to be precise. So that's exactly what we are going to do. On the first day of September, witches and wizards between 11 and 17 will do as they have always done on that day. As they always must do. As they have a right to do. They will go to school."

1st September 1997

A massive crowd has formed on the bridge that leads to Platforms Nine and Ten. So many times before have I been on this bridge, but I of all dreamers never dreamed I would be here with this purpose. I am not leading the crowd, Linda and I are at the back, like sheepdogs keeping the rioters in order (or at least to keep things organized.)Will and Colin are at the head of the group, leading them on.

I cannot help feeling that something is very wrong. Besides the fact that we will probably not only break the law, we will smash it and tread on the pieces, there are so many Muggles around, with schoolchildren of their own. Even if they are Obliviated (or killed) shortly after witnessing what is planned today, I should not like them to see it. Then indeed they would have a low opinion of us as human beings.

Children of all ages, shapes and sizes, swarm to the wall that divides the two platforms. All of the other travellers, the ones meant to be there, legally recognised, hurry through first, wary of the large and rowdy crowd.

The first of the interns feels the stone hungrily, but turns disappointed to the crowd.

"They've blocked it!"

I hear angry shouts, but not shocked ones. We planned for this happening. So now, being drawn from coats and satchels and even under hats, are wands, hammers, salvaged pick axes, saws and other tools of destruction. I watch as bricks are ripped out, whole sections collapsing. The Hogwarts Express has already left but the issue of why they are destroying the wall is driven out of their heads by the excitement, the thrill of defiance. It is an unwilling symbol of division, a symbol they detest. And they seem determined to destroy it no matter what.

But this cannot go unnoticed. Station guards come running along the platform, blowing whistles. They are quickly silenced by furious Death Eaters. I feel myself steadily being crushed by the contractng group and I hear shouts of fear, even a few small whimpers of despair.

Then they come. The Dementors; and before long the entire station is surrounded.

"Expecto pat-" Linda's charm is cut off when a Death Eater hits her with a Killing Curse straight to the head.

I frantically push my way to the middle of the terrified crowd,which is itself forced into submission. I find Colin's hand and do not dare to let go. I only have time for one last spell; and I almost crushed to death as the desperate rioters rush towards my Patronus like moths to a light. Or flies to a corpse.

Apparition is difficult with the melee going on around me, but Colin and I safely make it out of London just as the Dementors descend upon the helpless interns- helpless children, children who have deliberately never been taught the Patronus Charm.

I do not hide my disgust.

3rd September

The harder things become, the more I feel inclined to write in my diary, though even that may be taken away from me.

I have six days left until my trial. I am told that it is for vandalism and unruly behaviour, though everybody knows that it is really for every bad thing I have ever done wrong in my life: murder, sedition, treason, heresy and in general not being the Ministry's doormat.

I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about standing in a room full of people who hate me and would gladly kill me where I stood if that weren't illegal and considered inappropriate for polite society. I can't stop thinking about the chance that I will die alone in prison, never to see a smile again. I can't stop thinking about lying dead in a cold grave in the dismal Azkaban Cemetery, surrounded by my enemies. I can't stop thinking about being trapped, with only death to release me.