A/N: Thanks to all those who have reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. I'm glad that people have been enjoying it. And a special thanks to Bonnie and Mainsail for beta reading this and thus improving on the original. If you have questions or concerns about what's going on, feel free to include them in a review or a PM — I'll try to answer.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does.
Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "A Squib Worth" by Naia. Harry Potter never got his letter from Hogwarts because he was a squib. That didn't bother him, though, and he went on to make a good life for himself. But without him, things go badly for the magical world when Voldemort returns, and soon magicals rediscover Harry — much to his regret. H/Hr.
Chapter 22 - Fight the Power
Monday, October 4, 1995, Morning.
"Have you noticed that Nott hasn't been looking too good the past couple of days?" Jasmine asked. Hermione looked up from the Daily Prophet, which displayed a headline about Sirius Black being responsible for the attack on Hogsmeade, then over at the Slytherin table where Nott did indeed appear rather drawn and pale. Instead of participating in any of the conversations going on around him, he was staring at his breakfast, eating it without any obvious pleasure. Hermione was about to respond when Jasmine grabbed her arm hard and pointed to Hedwig, who had flown through the owl entrance into the Great Hall.
The reason for Jasmine's rough action was immediately clear by how Hedwig was flying — Hermione had seen her fly injured once before and recognized the signs. When she landed, Hermione took the message while Jasmine examined her to see what might be wrong. "I don't think anything's broken," she said, "but a lot of feathers have been damaged, and there is blood."
"Let's take her to Professor Grubbly-Plank," Hermione suggested. "I'd prefer Hagrid, but she seems to know her stuff."
They found Hagrid's replacement in the staff room, and they were relieved to hear that the injuries were no more serious than they looked and that Hedwig should make a fast recovery. On the way to History of Magic, Hermione shared the contents of the letter, which was from her parents. "My father writes, 'Our hostesses have been nothing but warm and gracious, as you might expect. We have to admit, living in a household with veela has been educational, to say the least. Changes your perspective on a lot of things, you know?'"
"I guess living in France is good for them," Jasmine observed. "But I'm worried about Hedwig being attacked while carrying a letter from your parents."
"Do you think someone is trying to find them?" Hermione asked, now nervous.
Jasmine shrugged. "Or trying to learn about anyone I might be in contact with. You know, including Padfoot."
"We can't keep using her," Hermione declared. "But... but that means not writing to anyone, because I doubt the school owls will fight to keep their messages like Hedwig obviously did."
"We'll find a way," Jasmine said. "Maybe one of our friends has an owl we can borrow, even if only in an emergency."
That was the last bit of peace they had that week, because when they exited History of Magic later, they found Dolores Umbridge waiting for them, glaring even more than usual and beginning once again to show up wherever they went. She didn't say anything, despite the fact that the magic from the Autumnal Equinox probably wasn't affecting her anymore, and the two witches were certain that she was planning something.
Monday, October 4, 1995, Late Afternoon.
Fleur held Jasmine and Hermione back after Defense class to deliver a message. "I heard back from my maman about ze basilisk parts. I don't know if you remember, but when I first told you about ze veela, one of ze zings I said we specialize in is enchanting. Most wizards and witches zink ze goblins are ze best enchanters, at least when it comes to weapons and jewelry, but ze veela are better with certain types of enchanting. It depends on ze object being enchanted and ze types of enchantments being applied."
"Oh, yes, I remember you mentioning that," Hermione responded. "But I had no idea that veela enchantments were so good."
"Yes. In fact, ze goblins made an agreement with ze veela to have us do some of ze most difficult and complicated enchantments for zem, which zey zen often sell."
"Why would your people do that?" Jasmine asked.
Fleur shrugged. "Ze veela did not care about ze fame, and letting ze goblins do ze selling meant we could further reduce our contact with outsiders. Anyway, my maman says zat if we send her ze basilisk parts, she will take care of transforming it all into enchanted magical items like armor and weapons — at no cost, of course. Whatever we do not use, she will have sold through her French contacts. No one will be able to connect it with you, and you will get far more gold zan if you sell it on your own."
"That's... that's too generous," Jasmine stammered. "We couldn't possibly..."
Fleur waved off her protests. "She wants to do zis — she wants to help where she can. Besides, she is hopeful that ze basilisk hide will make for good armor — sleeveless tunics zat will provide defense against magical and physical attacks. Enchanting will be key to transforming ze hide into armor, though, and ze veela will do a much better job with something like basilisk hide zan anyone else."
"Thank you," Hermione cut in, putting her hand on her girlfriend's shoulder to forestall any further objections. "It is very generous, and we accept." She finished with a meaningful look at Jasmine to emphasize the point. "When you decide how you want to get the crates of parts to France, call Dobby and Winky to help. We'll tell them to listen for you."
"Zank you," Fleur responded. "If zere is a lot, I will definitely need zeir help."
"Fleur, can you pass messages back and forth between Hermione and her parents?" Jasmine asked suddenly, causing Hermione to let out a soft gasp of surprise.
"Of course, but why?" Fleur asked.
"Hedwig was injured coming back with a letter from my parents," Hermione answered. "Even after she's healed, we don't think we can keep using her."
"Do not worry," Fleur reassured her. "I will see zat your letters get to zem." That earned the Defense professor a firm Hermione hug of thanks.
Tuesday, October 5, 1995, Evening.
Although there was plenty of other work that needed to be done, about the only thing the study group could concentrate on was preparing for the first mass DA meeting that would take place in a few days. Everyone was simultaneously anxious about teaching such a large group and eager to get started. The thought of being attacked was no longer a mere intellectual exercise: it had happened once already, and they knew it could happen again at any time.
"What about security?" Daphne asked. "I know that some members of our house can't be trusted, but I couldn't tell you for sure which to be wary of."
"Don't worry, I've got it covered," Hermione assured her. When Daphne looked skeptical, Hermione added with a feral smile, "I got some ideas from books that were in a... darker library, shall we say. As well as someone with a history of rather vicious pranks."
"What are we going to start with?" Susan asked. "There's going to be a wide range of skills and experience."
"I've been thinking about that," Jasmine answered. "I figured it would be best to start with the basics: shields and disarming. Once we see how people are doing, we split them up by ability. I'd prefer to match people in different houses, since they will be practicing within their houses most of the time. Once everyone can at least cast those spells and hit what they're aiming at, we'll move on to accuracy drills—"
"I was thinking that basics like accuracy, dodging, and practicing known spells should be handled by us in the individual houses," Susan interrupted. "The large meetings would be better suited for learning new spells and for all of us to collectively help those struggling and watch for any common problems that keep coming up."
The others all nodded, liking that idea, so Jasmine said, "Okay, I can go along with that. So once we're sure that everyone can cast shields and stunners—"
"Ssshhh!" Jasmine was interrupted again, this time by Tracey, who gestured down a row of shelves where they could all see a bit of pink poking out from behind one bookshelf. "Umbridge," she whispered, forcing an end to the discussion of the DA. While most of them simply focused on their homework, Gabrielle kept a close eye on where she thought Umbridge might be lurking.
Thursday, October 7, 1995, Morning.
On the way to breakfast, the primary topic of conversation was Professor Trelawney having been put on probation the previous day. "As much as I dislike divination — and all that comes with it," Jasmine said, trading a significant look with Hermione, "I feel sorry for Trelawney. Somehow, I doubt she has anywhere to go if she's kicked out of here. I've never seen her leave for any reason. Not for any of the holidays."
"It tells us that Umbridge is doing more than following us around," Hermione pointed out, shivering slightly at the thought of how often they'd run into her in the corridors over the last week.
"It also tells us that the Ministry is serious about exercising its authority over how Hogwarts is run," Neville said. "They may have started with one of the least popular members of staff, but the fact remains that she has taught here for a long time. Putting her on probation is, if nothing else, a message to the rest of the staff."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "And the message is: you could be next."
"She may have been targeted first because she was the least popular," Ginny pointed out, and the others nodded.
When they arrived at the Entrance Hall, they found a large crowd gathered around where Filch was once again attaching something to the wall, Dolores Umbridge standing by his side. The bandages were long gone from her hands, though Jasmine suspected she was using glamours to hide scarring, and it appeared that the effects of the Autumnal Equinox ritual had definitely worn off.
"Hem, hem, can I have your attention," she called out, her high-pitched voice cracking in her attempt to be heard. When the murmuring died down, she continued, "According to Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four, all student groups, clubs, and teams, which are defined as any regularly occurring meeting of three or more students, are immediately disbanded. Anyone who wishes to re-form a group, club, or team, or to form a new one, must get permission to do so from the Chief Inquisitor. No group, club, or team is permitted to exist without the knowledge and permission of the Chief Inquisitor. The penalty for starting or joining any group, club, or team without the knowledge and permission of the Chief Inquisitor is immediate expulsion."
"Does this include the Quidditch teams?" Ron asked incredulously.
"But of course it does," Umbridge said with a smile. "They are teams, and they consist of more than three students. You can count, can't you?"
"What about classes?" one of the Weasley twins asked.
"What about them?" Umbridge replied with a frown.
"Well, they meet regularly," the first twin pointed out.
"And they have more than three people," the second twin added.
"For that matter," the first continued, "what about our meals? Will we all be expelled if we walk into breakfast right now?"
"Well, no... but... I mean..." Umbridge sputtered.
"Will we get expelled for going to bed in our dorms?" Jasmine asked, catching on to what the devious duo was doing. "Most of us here in Hogwarts have at least three people in each year's dorm room."
"Spending time in the common rooms is right out," Neville chimed in, continuing with the theme. "In fact, I don't see any way of adhering to this decree unless we all split up, two students to a classroom, and not leave those rooms until the end of the year."
"Even going to the loo might be dangerous, at least for the witches," Ron said softly — yet not so softly that Ginny couldn't hear him, and it earned him a sharp elbow to the side. Even Luna glared at him for a half second.
"Madam Umbridge," came the Headmaster's voice, interrupting the Pink Toad Lady's sputtering. "It seems to me that this particular decree was... not well thought out, shall we say? If you leave it in effect, you'll force me to expel every student who attends a meal or a class, and by the end of the day we won't have a school left. What will Minister Fudge say about that?"
"Fine!" Umbridge said, her face nearly purple with anger. She motioned to Filch to take down the decree, and once she had it in her hands, she shoved her way through the hostile, murmuring crowd.
Dumbledore gave the Gryffindors who had been at the center of the argument an appraising look. "I hope you realize that you have only delayed the inevitable. By pointing out the flaws in her decree, you've given her the opportunity to improve it — and I suspect that she'll exercise more care with future decrees as well."
"True," said the first twin with a shrug, "but it also gives us time to plan a response since we know what's coming."
"And the entertainment value of watching her flounder is not to be underestimated," the second twin added.
The Headmaster chuckled before saying, "Indeed, I suppose you're right. Keep in mind that she won't forget this insult. I expect that she'll be keeping a closer eye on the two of you... well, on all of you, now that you've embarrassed and inconvenienced her."
"It was going to happen eventually anyway," Neville said.
"True," Dumbledore conceded, "but as Mr. Weasley just pointed out to me, there's value in delaying the inevitable so you have more time to prepare."
Dumbledore was right about Umbridge only being delayed. A new and improved Educational Decree was posted that evening, one that made exemptions for classes, meals, sleeping in dorms, and working in common rooms or the library. By eliminating the obvious problems, though, she introduced loopholes that clever students could take advantage of.
Saturday, October 9, 1995, Evening.
Both Jasmine and Hermione were mentally and physically tired when they made their way to the headmaster's office for what they expected would be another lesson on the history of Voldemort. Their day had started with a long meeting of the S.P.E.W. leadership to decide how to handle future meetings of both S.P.E.W. and the DA now that organizations like them were banned. No one thought for even a second that Umbridge would give permission for them to exist.
Hermione pointed out that the revised decree allowed for studying in the common rooms, so they could use that until she figured out that loophole existed and closed it. Jasmine, who was asked to come due to the importance of the meeting, recommended that they focus as much as possible on small, house-based meetings for S.P.E.W. and limit the mass DA meetings to once a month, thus reducing their risks as much as possible.
That was followed by an especially tough defense practice session with their study group for the rest of the morning, then another tough session with Flitwick all afternoon. When they were done, he informed the girls that he would teach some of the stronger curses to their study group. Fleur had explained to him how much they were developing magically and physically from the holiday rituals, and he concluded that with careful supervision they might be able to handle it. He did, however, impress upon them the fact that he didn't want them teaching anyone else those nastier curses, something they both readily agreed to.
Now they had to go to another "lesson" with Dumbledore, and they weren't looking forward to it any more than they had been the first time. Still, despite how useless it all seemed, they couldn't deny that knowing more about Voldemort's past might be helpful eventually. They just wished that their headmaster wouldn't take so long to get through the material.
"Welcome back," Dumbledore said as the girls sat down. "Before we begin this evening, do either of you have any questions about the memory of Tom Riddle's parents?"
"Yes," Jasmine replied, "What happened to them? That was his father's grave I was tied to during that ritual, so he's dead, but what about his mother? I remember the shade of Tom Riddle saying that he grew up in an orphanage, so I'm guessing she died when he was young?"
"And how did those two ever get together, anyway?" Hermione asked. "They don't seem like the sort that would be attracted to each other."
"Ah, those are important questions which I had intended to answer over the course of tonight's lesson," Dumbledore answered sagely. "I agree that they are an unlikely couple, but Merope Gaunt was a witch and thus had the tools to attract men — tools which muggle women lack."
"An Imperius Curse?" Jasmine asked, horrified.
"A love potion, more likely," Dumbledore said. "She wasn't skilled or powerful with magic. Even so, the potion either wore off or she chose to stop giving it to him in the hope that he would have fallen in love with her naturally. From the memories I've collected, she struck me as quite the romantic. Either way, I learned from local gossips about Tom Riddle Sr. returning to Little Hangleton and complaining about being tricked by a woman into entering a relationship with her. He left her pregnant and alone. Heartbroken, too, I suspect. She died in childbirth, so young Tom never got to know his mother."
"That's rather sad," Hermione observed.
"Are you perchance feeling sorry for Tom?"
"Not really. It's unfortunate that any child has to grow up an orphan," she said with a brief glance at Jasmine, "but Riddle's mother was..." Hermione looked a little uncertain at whether she should say what was on her mind, but finally she forged ahead. "Well, frankly, she was a narcissistic rapist, and his father was an egotistical deadbeat. He was probably better off not knowing them."
When Dumbledore blinked at the stark condemnation, Jasmine added, "I grew up not knowing my parents and in horrible conditions, but I managed to not become a mass-murdering psychopath. I'm sorry he had a hard time growing up, but he wasn't forced to become what he did. He chose it."
"I think that perhaps you are bit unkind in your denunciations," Dumbledore said cautiously. "Tom Riddle Sr. was justified in thinking he had been tricked into a relationship and may not have believed the unborn child was his — assuming, of course, that Merope told him about it. And Merope, for all her faults, was desperate for the love of another. I'm quite certain that she loved her son, something which young Tom never seems to have acknowledged."
Both Jasmine and Hermione looked a bit chastened at that, so Dumbledore pressed on. "In fact, his refusal to honor his mother's love is, I believe, one of his weaknesses."
"How so?" Jasmine asked.
"Consider the ritual you were forced to participate in," Dumbledore answered as he looked carefully at her. "What part did his mother play?"
"Well, none that I know of," she replied. "The ritual only called for the bone of the father."
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "He was originally conceived in a relationship where there was no true, reciprocal love, and then he had himself reborn with a ritual in which no participant loved him."
"And it can't be irrelevant that his mother was the one from whom he got magic," Hermione added.
Dumbledore nodded. "Merope Gaunt was his only source of true, personal love, even though he never had a chance to experience it. She was also his source of magic, as well as the reason for his being the heir of Slytherin. Yet I've never seen him pay her memory any sort of respect."
"That seems awfully strange," Hermione observed, frowning. "Why would he do that?"
"I truly cannot say for certain," Dumbledore admitted. "However, one thing that I noticed about him, both during his time here at Hogwarts and after, was a lack of respect for witches and what they can do. He obviously underestimated your mother, Miss Potter."
"And he's repeatedly underestimated me as well," Jasmine said.
"Indeed he has," Dumbledore agreed. "There are exceptions, like Bellatrix, but she stands out precisely because her presence in his inner circle is so remarkable. I suspect that it's due to how extreme her professed devotion is." He allowed the two students to ponder that for a few seconds before continuing. "Well, let's take a look at my first memory of young Tom." He stood and placed a memory in the pensieve, then invited the two young witches to join him. They witnessed Dumbledore meeting Tom to tell him about Hogwarts, confronting Tom about his behavior, then leaving.
"That was pretty harsh," Hermione observed.
"Oh?"
"Well," she replied, "it looks like when other orphans did things he didn't like, things that hurt him, he stopped them by dominating them through his magic. Then you came along and said that he needed to stop doing things you didn't like, and you dominated him by demonstrating your far greater magic."
"Yeah," Jasmine agreed. "I'd freak out if someone appeared to be burning up all of my meager possessions like that."
"He never agreed that stealing from others or hurting others was wrong, did he?" Hermione asked. "He submitted to your greater power, all the while biding his time until he had enough power that he could do as he wanted again. In a way, you reinforced a lesson he was already learning: you can force others to bend to your will if you simply have enough power over them. Might makes right."
"Sometimes slapping someone down hard is necessary," Jasmine conceded. "Unavoidable, even."
"Draco Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy," Hermione chimed in.
"Exactly — two good examples," Jasmine went on. "But it won't work if you do it once then walk away — you have to follow up on it until you're certain they've learned their lesson and can make sure the behavior doesn't return."
"You didn't do that, did you, Headmaster?" Hermione asked. "You knew he had a history of hurting other children, then you sent him off to buy a wand — a dangerous, even deadly weapon. Did you warn his head of house? The Headmaster? Anyone?"
"No, I did not," Dumbledore admitted reluctantly, "but I also did not feel that it would be right to prejudice others against the boy. I believed that whatever his misdeeds prior to coming to Hogwarts, he deserved a fresh start. A chance to make a new life unburdened by the problems of his old one."
"We can see what kind of person he is, that's for sure," Jasmine observed. "No friends. No respect for others. He does respect power, though."
"Or at least he fears greater power in others and seeks to have more than anyone else around him," Hermione offered. "Though he might have had good reason — I've heard some awful things about how orphanages used to be run. Did he ever express any fear for his safety? Did he ever ask for means to get away from the orphanage, to not have to go back during the summer?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said regretfully. "Every year he begged to not be sent back."
"Yet you sent him anyway, right? Like you did with me?" Jasmine responded. "Wanting to give him a fresh start was all well and good, but it wasn't so fresh of a start when he had to go back there every summer. And that's assuming he wanted one — I think he grew to enjoy hurting others."
"He attended Hogwarts during the early 1940s, didn't he?" Hermione asked. "That was during World War II, including the Blitz. All the bombing raids in London couldn't have made leaving for the summers any more pleasant. Spending so much time in an environment where he was made to feel weak and afraid — especially at the hands of muggles — would have made him more determined to become powerful enough to never have to fear others again."
"Unfortunately, there are no provisions for allowing students to remain here during the summers," Dumbledore explained. "Nor has the Ministry ever provided any means to protect muggleborn and muggle-raised children outside of Hogwarts." He decided that it was time to change the subject — clearly his students had learned most of the lessons about Tom's personality that he had wanted to convey. He just wished that they hadn't found it necessary to highlight all of his mistakes with Tom in the process.
"There's one more thing that I'd like to discuss before you leave," he said. "Have you given any more thought to the memories of war which I showed you last time?"
"Yes, we both have," Hermione said, "especially after what happened in Hogsmeade."
Dumbledore leaned forward over his desk, looking at them a bit more closely. "I was surprised that you acted so violently in the village when you had so recently witnessed the horrors of similar violence," he said. "It had been my hope that the memories of war would teach you how terrible the costs of violence can be, and thus why they must be avoided."
Hermione frowned. "That was my initial reaction," she admitted, "but then I realized that those memories you showed us don't tell the whole story."
"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, his brow furrowing. "They weren't edited or modified."
"Not deliberately, but the effect is the same," she replied. "Those memories only show the fighting between two sides. They don't show what happens when the attackers are not stopped."
"In Hogsmeade, we heard the werewolves discussing what they intended to do to our friends," Jasmine said. "Things they had already done to others, so we knew they were already guilty of murder, rape, and more."
"If we had failed to stop them, we'd have been partially responsible for them hurting our friends," Hermione said intently. "If we had allowed them to get away, we'd have been partially responsible for all the crimes they went on to commit. So as far as we're concerned, we had an obligation to try to stop them then and there."
"As unpleasant as it all was," Jasmine pointed out, "it was far better than the violence those wizards and werewolves intended to commit."
"You don't sound like you have any regrets or remorse," Dumbledore concluded, no happier about the direction this part of the conversation was taking than the last.
Hermione was starting to look outraged, but Jasmine was the one who answered. "Remorse? No. Regrets? Mainly that we were forced into having to act so drastically in order to protect our friends, and that the adults in wizarding Britain have failed so badly, putting us into that position."
"I've never believed that violence is the only solution," Dumbledore argued, "and that when used, it should only be used as a last resort, after all other options have been completely exhausted. On the occasions that I've had to make that choice in recent years, I have always been greatly saddened by it — and I've often come to regret it later, no matter how justified my actions felt at the time. I would not have resorted to deadly spells in Hogsmeade. I would have used non-lethal spells designed to capture and incapacitate."
"That's nice in theory," Jasmine said a little heatedly, "but what about all those who suffer in the meantime? If you have the ability to end or even prevent their suffering, it's rather unethical to refuse to do so simply because you don't want to get your hands dirty."
"It's not simply that, though I admit that it's not an insignificant factor," Dumbledore said. "I have learned, through great personal hardship, that in the long run violence only begets more violence. First from yourself, because it gets easier to use. The more you use it, the easier it becomes to strike down an opponent rather than reach out to them. That is a dark path which is difficult to escape. Second from others, who learn to resent you for how you wield your power against them — people who could have become allies, had you been patient enough to try to talk and work with them. What's more, it is the innocents — especially bystanders — who suffer the most when powerful forces resort to violence to solve their differences. While violence may seem like an easy and obvious solution to a problem, it tends to make matters worse, not better. A good, just, and productive society cannot be built on violence."
"Actually, Headmaster, I think most societies have used violence in their founding and later in their defense," Hermione said acidly. "And it's rare that significant injustice has been ended without the use of at least some violence."
"Those ideals sound great while we're sitting around drinking tea in your tower," Jasmine added, "but honestly, when was the last time your own life was in danger? When was the last time you couldn't easily defend someone you cared about in a fight? Because of your power and knowledge, it's not hard for you to reach for non-lethal solutions to stop rape and murder. We aren't so lucky."
"When I was fighting for my life and the lives of my parents this summer," Hermione said, her voice rising, "I honestly didn't give any thought to the lives of those Death Eaters. Since they were attacking us, I frankly find it offensive that you would even suggest that I had some moral obligation to protect their lives over our own. Because don't kid yourself: that is what you're saying."
Just then, Jasmine laid a hand softly on her friend's arm, and Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself. "I won't deny that I had a lot of trouble with the idea of using violent spells at first," she went on, "but magical society in Britain isn't all that safe or civilized — which is partly your responsibility, by the way. In this country, my parents and I are targets; when faced with that fact, I discovered that using violent spells wasn't as hard as I thought."
At that, Dumbledore gazed at them sadly, fearing it might already be too late to ever convince them otherwise. "You may indeed have a point," he finally said, remembering his recent conversation with Fleur. "I have been in this tower for many years, and the world does look different from up here than it does when in the middle of a battle for one's life. It's possible that I've lost some necessary perspective." He paused for a long moment, then continued, "I will think on it, but promise me that you'll do the same — that you'll think about the corrosive effect violence can have on social cohesion. About how innocent bystanders can be harmed. Or even fellow victims — what if either of you had missed with your deadly spells the night the Granger home was attacked, and you hit Mr. or Mrs. Granger instead? However justified you may think that violence is in any given moment, you must not ignore the possible consequences of your choices, both to yourselves and to those around you."
A troubled look cross Jasmine's face, but he wasn't sure which of his arguments had affected her so. She didn't appear inclined to talk about it, however, so having secured their agreement to consider his position, he wished them a good night.
After they had gone, the headmaster stood from his desk and walked to the large windows which faced the Hogwarts grounds. As he stared out into the darkness, he wondered whether he had perhaps drunk in this peaceful view a bit too often, and if perhaps it had undermined his ability to see and understand other perspectives. Still, he had to find a way to explain to them — to her — how critical it was that powerful witches and wizards exercise the utmost in self-discipline. How quickly an argument could degenerate when violence wasn't strictly off the table. How easily a lost temper could spiral out of control, and the terrible consequences...
Over in the corner, Fawkes began to croon consolingly.
Neither witch spoke as they made their way back to their dorm — too many prying eyes and ears these days — but Jasmine noticed her girlfriend giving her covert glances as they walked, so she wasn't surprised when Hermione automatically joined her behind the silenced curtains as they readied for bed. Fortunately, she seemed to have calmed down a bit by then.
"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked without preamble, laying a hand on her own. "It seemed like something he said upset you there at the end."
Me? Jasmine thought. Pot, meet kettle! Aloud, she said, "Oh, it's just... I was thinking about the fight at your house — when I saw that Death Eater torturing your mum and had to get him off her."
Hermione's face darkened. "Don't tell me you buy his argument that we should have stuck to useless spells whenever our friends are tortured and raped!" she flared. "While my mum was tortured and nearly raped! I swear, another minute of that tripe and I'd have given him some violent spells...!"
"Whoa, easy," Jasmine said, raising a hand soothingly. "I'm not saying anything like that. It's just that some of the other stuff he said... well, he does have a point." When Hermione looked about ready to explode again, she hastily went on, "Wait, hear me out. When I came into your house that night, the Death Eater was across the room, attacking your mum. I used a Perforation Hex on him — nothing too awful, but I had to be sure not to hit her accidentally, so I took an extra second to aim. That was when I got hit myself, remember?"
Hermione nodded grudgingly, a little calmer now.
"Well, it occurred to me that the more sure you have to be that you don't hit somebody you care about, the more you potentially put yourself at risk. Which kind of ties into what Dumbledore was saying." When Hermione didn't respond, she continued, "On top of that, without even trying, I cast that hex with so much power that it killed him anyway. ...Well, that and, um, the fact that I apparently aimed for his face, though I don't remember that part too well. Anyway, I can't help but think about what would have happened if I had missed and clipped your mum instead. Even if it didn't kill her outright, it might have done more damage than I could fix myself, especially with a live Death Eater still in front of me and you in trouble in the kitchen. Same with those silver arrows we used in Hogsmeade — what if we'd hit one of our friends?"
She could tell by Hermione's expression that she had finally gotten through to her. "The point is, I did everything right in that moment and it turned out OK, but I still got injured myself — and how often do you do everything right in a fight? It's sort of sobering, that's all — I hadn't thought about it in those terms before."
Hermione exhaled heavily, her rage of a moment before gone as swiftly as it had come. "So basically what you're saying is, we're damned if we do and damned if we don't."
"Pretty much, yeah," Jasmine replied. "Oh, and language, by the way."
The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched. "And with that, I think I'll say goodnight. I've got a whole new batch of nightmares to attend to — best to get cracking!" Her smile was brittle as she leaned in for a quick kiss.
"Hey, now..." Jasmine said, pulling her into a tight embrace instead. She murmured softly as she stroked her brown hair until she finally felt her relax.
"Thanks," Hermione said quietly against her shoulder. "I guess I needed that. It's been a rough night."
Sunday, October 10, 1995, Late Afternoon.
Jasmine looked out over the crowd, impressed with both how many students had come to the first mass DA meeting and with the ability of the Room of Requirement to accommodate them all. There was even enough room for them all to start practicing, though that wouldn't happen if they couldn't get the administrative issues dealt with.
"Quiet!" she shouted, getting everyone to finally shut up and pay attention. "I know you're all here to learn how to defend yourselves against dark wizards. Unfortunately, if we're going to do this right, we need to get properly organized first. Since you're already mostly grouped by house, a couple of your housemates will come by with a piece of parchment for you to sign. This will do two things: it tells us how many people we're working with, and it's a promise on your part not to talk to any outsiders about this group or anything you learn here."
"Why do we have to sign such a thing?" came a voice. "We didn't when we started this last term. Don't you trust us?" It was Justin Finch-Fletchley, one of the more annoying wizards in the current group of fifth-year students.
"Tell me, Justin," Jasmine asked, "do you unequivocally trust everyone here? Not just your fellow Hufflepuffs, but everyone?" When he looked around, he seemed to realize that there were quite a few others from different houses that he didn't even know, much less trust.
When Justin answered with a shake of his head, Jasmine went on, "Maybe someday you will, but right now it would be ridiculous if you did. So this protects you as much as it protects me or a Slytherin standing on the other side of the room. You all know that unauthorized groups are banned. Technically we haven't violated the ban because this is our first meeting — if we meet again, then we'd be in violation and in theory could all be expelled."
Jasmine let that threat hang in the air for a few moments. "I obviously don't want to be expelled, and I'm sure you don't, either. However, I also want you all to be able to protect yourselves if you're attacked. Signing those sheets is the best way we have of achieving both because it will prevent anyone here from telling someone like Umbridge about us. This security measure isn't perfect, but it's the best we've been able to come up with. If you don't like it, either provide something better or leave."
Quite a few students seemed to be unhappy with that ultimatum, though more witches than wizards appeared willing to trust her because of their involvement in S.P.E.W.
It was Cedric, now in his final year, who spoke out in defense of Jasmine. "Listen up, you lot," he said. "I trust her, and if she trusts the security that they're using, then I'll trust it, too. She's at least told you what she's doing and offered to use a better idea if you have one, which is more than most would do. I, for one, have no problem signing this sheet," he declared, putting action to words.
"What happens if we sign and still talk to others?" Zacharias Smith asked a little belligerently.
Jasmine smirked. "I'm not going to say anything that could help those who might want to get around the security. You won't die, but you won't like what happens to you, either. If you don't squeal on us, you'll be fine."
Once the parchments had all been signed and double-checked, Jasmine got their attention again. "You should all be practicing a couple of times each week in your house — the ability to meet and practice in your common rooms is a loophole you need to exploit while you still can before Umbridge finds a way to close it. These mass meetings will be used to introduce new spells and to provide extra help to anyone who needs it. Today, though, the first thing we'll do is to have everyone cast some of the basics to show that they can or so they can get help if they can't."
There was more than a bit of grumbling, but soon everyone was lined up facing a different wall and casting basic spells that could be used in a fight: stunners, disarming charms, reductor curses, and banishing charms. Some of this had been part of their first lessons at the end of the previous term, but they had a lot of new people, and it was a sure bet that few had had any chance to practice since then.
Quite a few students had trouble casting one or more of the spells consistently, and while Jasmine tried not to make them feel bad about it, she did point out that that was why they were reviewing the basics. "Just because they're basic spells doesn't mean you're already experts with them," she kept saying. "That requires lots of practice."
Once everyone seemed comfortable with the essentials, Jasmine and her friends began teaching them the blasting and explosive blasting hexes, which were fifth- and sixth-year spells. Even some of the older students had trouble with those, but by the end of the second hour, almost everyone was able to cast both, at least some of the time. Some had even started casting them at moving targets created by the Room, thus allowing them to work on their accuracy.
"Alright everyone," Jasmine announced at the end, "You're all doing well. Keep practicing with your housemates and this will go even faster next time. Well, assuming there is a next time. And if there is one, you'll be contacted."
"What do you mean, if?" Smith asked. "Why wouldn't there be a next time?" Jasmine rolled her eyes while Padma went over to explain to her fellow Ravenclaw about the concept of "plausible deniability."
"Now I see why she was so disillusioned with her house last term," Jasmine muttered to herself.
Severus Snape sat alone in his darkened quarters as he considered what he'd learned over the past week. He'd expected to get more information about the witches who'd taken down the strike team that had attacked Hogsmeade, but in the process he'd discovered that they all knew at least the basics of Occlumency — not enough to keep out a determined probe, and certainly not enough to keep out someone as skilled as him, but more than enough to detect any intrusion strong enough to sift through background memories.
Fortunately he'd been on guard for such a thing, so with a light touch, and after the right verbal promptings to encourage them to think about the subjects he wanted, he'd finally garnered a little bit of intelligence.
He had a list of names, which only included a couple more names than what he'd already had. He also had confirmation that Potter was involved, though he wasn't sure how. More than one of the witches' thoughts suggested that Potter had been teaching them, but that didn't seem at all likely, given how generally incompetent she was.
Potter! he almost spat as he thought about how much grief she'd given him ever since she'd arrived at Hogwarts. My oaths prevent me from knowingly endangering her, so there's nothing I can do to point the Dark Lord's ire in her direction — though he could hardly hate her more than he already does. My oaths also prevent me from giving the Dark Lord any new information without the Headmaster's approval. ...However, that doesn't mean that I can't confirm what he already knows and suspects. It also doesn't prevent me from leading another to provide the Dark Lord with relevant information. I can't hurt the little brat, but if I can cause her friends to become targets, I can make her miserable.
Pity that a couple of them are from my own house, but they brought it on themselves when they dared stand against the Dark Lord's servants. They should have known better than to get involved with the Girl Who Lived anyway.
Sunday, October 10, 1995, Evening.
Lufestre Gydenna sat nervously waiting for her friend and queen. The last time she'd been summoned like this, she'd found herself named as a special envoy to the veela and was travelling to visit their Theledrion two days later. The next time she'd met with the queen was when she'd returned from that trip, and during that meeting the queen had put her in charge of dealing with the veela when they sent their own envoys. That visit had lasted a month, and she'd spent all her time helping with negotiations while trying to explain cultural and religious differences to both sides.
I'm a priestess, not a politician! she fumed silently. She was certain that she wasn't going to like whatever it was her queen had in mind this time, but she was just as certain that she wasn't going to be able to say no. Even if she weren't being asked to do things that would help her people, she was being asked by one of her oldest childhood friends. Though that doesn't give her the right to rope me into things I know nothing about. Surely there are more qualified...
"Knut for your thoughts," came a voice from behind her.
Lufestre jumped out of her seat in surprise, then bowed when she saw it was Hellraiser II who'd managed to sneak up behind her. "It's nothing," she answered. "Just, uh, wondering why I was summoned."
When cups of hot chojo had been poured and pieces of swétan served, Hellraiser finally said, "Yes, I'm sure you were thinking that. And probably throwing in a few unflattering comments about myself, as well, hmm?" Lufestre refused to say anything, which was more than answer enough.
"Well, you're probably right to do so," the queen continued, "because I have another mission for you." Lufestre choked slightly on the sip of chojo she'd just taken. "This one, however, might be a bit more to your liking since it involves the Goddess."
Now the queen had her full attention. "What sort of mission could you possibly have in mind?" she asked.
In response, the queen handed her several pieces of parchment. "I know you read the preliminary reports on the rituals that were held in that forest near Hogwarts. This is a summary of our most recent information on the effects of those rituals, both to the surrounding land and to those who participated. Read it, then we'll talk."
The information wasn't extensive, only requiring a dozen pieces of parchment, but Lufestre read it through several times, having trouble believing what she was seeing. After nearly half an hour, she finally began to speak. "This is... this is hard to believe. This is much more than what they gave us originally."
"Indeed. Not only is there new information there, but there's information that I think they were holding back before. Taken together... well, it puts things in a new light, doesn't it?"
"That's putting it mildly! Are you sure that this information is true?"
The queen nodded. "This was submitted as part of their new treaty obligations, and that means it is covered under their magically binding promise not to lie. They can withhold information in some situations, but they cannot tell an outright falsehood, so while this still might not be the whole truth, it is the truth."
"I've served in our temples almost my whole life, and I've dedicated myself to the service of the Goddess, but I have trouble believing that... well... that anyone might serve as vessels of any goddesses, never mind that two young witches might do so."
"At least they admit that they cannot prove this, but think back to what you told me about your reactions when you first met their Theledrion. Then remember that that was weeks after the ritual in question."
Lufestre did stop to think back, remembering feelings that she had sought to deny because they had been so contrary to what she expected from the world around her. "My feelings at the time hardly qualify as proof," she said as she shook her head.
"No, but they are an interesting bit of data," Hellraiser argued. "Your reaction and words at the time were untainted by the theory contained in that report. Your response was completely honest... and it made a lot of sense, if the theory in that report is correct."
Lufestre sighed. "Perhaps, though I can't imagine how anyone would ever be able to prove this idea. And what does it have to do with me, anyway?"
Hellraiser smiled as she took another sip of chojo. "They want to do it again, this time at another ancient magical site in Britain. One with a significant ley line running beneath it." Lufestre gaped at her queen. "In fact, they want to do it at several sites, if they can. Since they have no power or presence in Britain, they have asked us if we would be able to ward and guard the sites. It will require some creative interpretations of our treaty with the British Ministry, but I think we can get away with it."
"And... and me?" Lufestre asked, afraid she already knew the answer.
"Isn't it obvious? I'd like you to go as my official representative. I'd like your opinion, as both High Priestess and as a special envoy, of the ritual, its effects, of those two witches... of everything."
Lufestre let the rest of her uneaten swétan drop to her plate and slumped a bit in her chair. "I don't have to participate with them, do I? I mean, you do know that those harpies tend to do these rituals in the nude?" The queen smiled at her when she looked up, and she shuddered.
"No, not if you don't want to," Hellraiser responded. "But if you change your mind, I won't judge. Honest."
Lufestre wondered if it would be considered a capital crime to throw a swétan at her monarch.