Chapter 15
When I arrived in my dorm, the harp was already there, with my trunk. Padma and Su were there, too, but no one else. I wanted to wait for Luna for dinner, but hunger overtook friendship and I headed down without her. I left a seat next to me for her, but she did not show up. By pudding, I was seriously concerned.
The DA met that night. When I walked in, the murmurs in the room fell to silence. They all looked at me. "Um… hello, there… I was wondering if any of you knew where Luna is, I didn't see her at dinner…"
Neville stepped forward, glowering at me. "Don't you know?"
"If I knew, why would I be asking?"
"Your boyfriend's henchmen kidnapped her." He turned away, his voice quiet. "On the train. I was in the compartment."
"Oh. Oh no." Tears pricked my eyes.
"Yeah. Bloody rubbish spy you are."
"I'm sorry." I stared at the floor, tears rolling down my face. Luna had been kidnapped. Luna had been kidnapped. And I was oblivious. The mysterious sounds at Malfoy Manor, the secret door in the drawing room, all of it made sense now. And I had done nothing. "I'm so sorry. I know where she is. I… oh no." All eyes were on me. I sniffled, wiping my face. "I screwed up. She was in the manor. She was at Malfoy Manor the whole time." Some faces around me looked angry, but most looked sad. Parvati, Padma's sister, tentatively reached out and patted my arm. Padma pulled me into a full-on hug.
"You didn't know," she muttered, patting me on the back. When she released me, I wiped my face and sat down in the floor.
"Thanks, guys," I whispered. I looked up at Neville. "What can I do to fix this?" He shook his head. I shared all the information I had heard, though it wasn't much. Neville's face went pale when I mentioned the Lestranges. I told them about the various secret passageways I had found, but I had always had Draco babysitting me, and could not get a lot of information on those. I knew there was some sort of dungeon below the drawing room. And that someone was trying to get into my head the whole time. I hadn't let them, though. "And that's about it," I said. "It's not much, but it's better than we had before. Maybe I'll go back in the spring. Maybe then I can find Luna."
"If she's still there," said Neville.
"She's pure-blood. They wouldn't kill her. I think. They value even the life of a blood traitor more than the life of a muggle-born." I found myself using the Draco's term for the Lovegoods. It left a bad taste in my mouth. "But I can't guarantee her safety, even if she is alive. I don't know what I can do without arousing suspicion. Unless anyone has any suggestions?" There was silence. I sighed. "All right then. It doesn't seem like we have any options but to wait."
"Luna could be dead by then!" Neville said.
"Well, you didn't exactly pipe up when I asked for suggestions," I snarled. "I have a plan. It's not a very good one. But it's the only one any of us have. And until something better comes up, we stick to it." I stepped forward, staring at him. "And until then, we keep our heads. No one must be suspicious of us, or we risk the same fate as Luna. But if we aren't pureblood, we may not be so lucky." I turned around. I knew who the muggle-borns were by the pallor in their faces when I said that. "Half-bloods might survive. There is no hope for muggle-borns, though. And so we must. Stay. Calm." I had gotten a hold of myself now, and though my eyes were still red, the tears had stopped. "Is that understood?"
Quietly, one of the younger students whispered, "Yes, your Highness." It was said without an ounce of irony or mockery. I felt my breath catch in my throat. Everyone was staring at me, even Neville. I walked over to the student, a boy maybe in his fourth year, and bent slightly so that I was at eye level with him.
"Look, kid," I murmured to him, "I... I'm Jack. To you, that is all I want to be. Not a Highness. Not a Majesty. Just me." I stepped back and bowed my head. It was quiet for a while, until Neville started to speak again. There was a little shift in power, though. A little less for him, and a little more for me. I kept quiet, though. Maybe things would return to normal.
Things did not in fact return to normal. I was a quick learner with the DA, and was often called over to help the younger students with spells. My classes were also progressing smoothly, even Defense against the Dark Arts, where Professor Carrow was having us practice more and more revolting spells. I had never wanted to turn someone inside out, but now I could, to the dismay of the small animals he had us practice on. Draco, on the other hand, seemed apathetic to it. I kept a straight face, but my stomach turned every time I went to that class. The final straw came when he had us practice the Cruciartis curse- not on animals, as before. But on first years.
They were huddled in the corner, wide-eyed and whispering. The desks were pushed to the side, so the middle of the room was clear. "Now then, who wants to go first?" asked Professor Carrow. Draco raised his hand. Carrow pushed a first year in the center of the room, who stood there, shaking. Draco lazily raised his wand, and pointed it at the child.
"Crucio."
The first year fell to the floor, screaming and writhing. Draco watched for a few seconds, then flicked his wand again. The child was still, breathing hard and shaking, white as a sheet. "Good, very good, Mr. Malfoy!" said the professor. He pulled the first year rather roughly back up, pushing him back into the group. "As you can see, the curse causes unbearable pain. It's often used to incapacitate enemies, or to gain information. Now, who's next?" No one raised their hand. "Miss Harcourt?"
"Ah. Yes. Me." I stepped forward. Draco nodded encouragingly. "Professor, I don't want to be rude, but…" my mind raced, desperately trying to think of something, "isn't practicing the curse on first years, a bit… ah… well, they're children." I motioned to them and crossed my arms. "I'd feel much more comfortable practicing it on an equal." I didn't know why I said that, but now, all of my classmates were shifting and whispering, going pale. Carrow shrugged.
"Are there any volunteers for Miss Harcourt?"
At first it was quiet. Draco, paler than usual, stepped forward. "I'll do it."
I turned towards him. "Draco, you really don't have to-"
"I want to. And I'm the best suited for it." He smiled slightly. "How's this for strengthening our relationship?"
"I suppose… if you're really sure…"
"I am."
I took a deep breath, and pointed my hand at him. The tip of it was trembling. "Crucio."
Draco fell to the ground immediately, not screaming, but gargling and gasping, tears streaming from his eyes. I let go of the spell almost as soon as I cast it. He lay on the floor, motionless. I ran over to him, "Draco, Draco, are you alright?"
"Aaaah… fine…" he murmured, head resting on my lap. He lay still while the others took turn with the first years, screams filling the room. Eventually, he stood up. "That wasn't so bad," he whispered in my ear. I choked out something between a laugh and a sob. He patted my arm. "I can't believe that I just suffered through the Cruciartus Curse and I'm the one comforting you."
"I don't like hurting the people I love," I muttered. He pulled me close and kissed me on the top of my head.
"Love you, too."
I pulled away and watched the rest of the students. Some of the seventh-years looked just as scared as the first-years. Some of them were casual, like Draco. By the time we were dismissed, most people in the room were shaking and pale. I was so quiet for the rest of the day that even McGonagall commented on it in last period. I smiled weakly at her and explained that I was feeling a little under the weather.
After class, I stopped in her office and told her about the Dark Arts class. She nodded solemnly. "I could hear the screams," she said, pressing her lips together. "Everyone could."
"I cursed Draco Malfoy instead." I looked at my shoes. "It wasn't as satisfying as I thought it would be."
McGonagall nodded. "The Cruciartus curse should never be satisfying, no matter whom you are cursing. Even a Death Eater like Draco Malfoy." She looked over her glasses at me. "I take it your Christmas holiday went well?"
"Not as well as I hoped." I shrugged and turned towards the door. "Well, I'm off to do homework, Professor. Have a nice evening."
The common room was almost empty. I settled into a squashy blue armchair by the fireplace, loosening my tie and pulling my Transfiguration textbook out of my bag. There were a few hours before dinner, and I needed to study for a paper on Animagi. I knew that McGonagall was one herself, and if I wrote down something wrong, she would know.
I was writing the paper when Parvati came in. "It's almost dinner, Jack."
"Oh, bloody hell, is it?" I had only recently started saying that. Hogwarts was rubbing off on me. "I'm coming down now, give me a minute." With a flick of my wand, my parchment rolled up with a snap and the ink and quill floated into my bag. I rushed up to drop it by my bed, then went down to the Great Hall.
While everyone else was talkative, I remained silent. Thoughts of Animagi whorled around my head. According to the book, a wizard had little control over what they became, but I was desperate to find out. If it was anything like my Patronus- a small corsac- then it would come in useful. Things were changing in the world, and padding around rooms silently, climbing with hooked claws and listening would be handy. Then again, I could become something useless, like a guinea pig. I still wanted to find out.
After dinner, I sought out McGonagall in her office. "How do I become an Animagus?" I asked, bursting through the door. She turned around, looking almost startled.
"Miss Harcourt!"
Sheepishly, I shrugged. "I'm sorry. I should have knocked. That was rude of me. But… I'd like to know how to become an Animagus. Please."
She sat down at her desk, shaking her head. "Becoming an Animagus is a long and arduous process, Miss Harcourt. It would take a very long time, and in the beginning, it's very dangerous."
"I know. I'm writing a paper on it. But… I think it would be particularly useful for someone in my situation."
"How so?"
"Sneaking. Eavesdropping. Taking on a new identity." I sat at the chair in front of her desk. "That is, if my patronus and my Animagus form would be the same."
"They are usually the same, or similar. What is your patronus?"
"A corsac. A little fox." She raised one eyebrow at me. "I'm not a very quick person. Or very sneaky. I'd like to be able to be more useful, and I can't do that with everyone watching me. So I have to become something else. A different species, maybe."
"Show me," she said. I pulled out my wand and closed my eyes, murmuring the spell. The fox appeared, slinking around the desk, full-moon-eyes staring at the professor, little nose twitching. She nodded, and I let go of the spell. "You'll can't get permission from the ministry, not with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's puppet as the minister."
"He can't know." I cleared my throat and looked down. "And… will you teach me?"
She looked at me curiously, as if I had said something ridiculously stupid. "Of course I will, who else? And… it might be best if you kept this quiet."
I thanked her, then went back to the common room, and immediately began writing my essay. I researched it with much more fervor than any other project.
The next morning, my owl, Fion, flew down with a copy of the daily prophet. "Yes, thank you very much, here you go." I tossed her a sausage, which she gobbled up, then flew off to the owlry. It was a letter from McGonagall. She must have sent it by owl to avoid suspicion. Sending a letter was normal. Passing notes with students was not. It only said, Transfiguration classroom, nine o' clock.
