The Carrows' Calling
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to us, all credit goes to J.K. Rowling.
I know it's been over a month since I've updated and I'm really, really sorry! I hope you will enjoy this chapter, and many thanks for ElsaElphieGinny for reviewing and helping me through my writer's block. Love ya and you're amazing!
Chapter Twenty-Four
"Miss. Weasley." Someone called from the back of the classroom as she was leaving through the door. Ginny turned and saw Professor McGonagall, beckoning her with a hand.
"Yes, Professor?" she politely asked, looking the professor dead in the eye, searching for why she was wanted. The professor glanced at her before looking through her desk and picking up a short piece of parchment.
"I request for you to meet me in my office, tonight at 10:00," Professor McGonagall said, in her normal crisp and sharp dialect. Ginny looked at her, a tad bewildered.
"Yes, but Professor, that's after curfew," she pointed out.
"I am well aware of that, Miss. Weasley," the older witch said, a look of disdain and disgust etched upon her face as she looked once again down at the scrap of parchment. "No matter, we will meet at 10:00, and I would like you to be dressed in school robes. There is something I would to discuss." She emphasized on the last word, though Ginny didn't know why.
Ginny nodded, a curious as to the reason for this past-curfew meeting—well, she was going to find out later, anyways. "Is that all, Professor?" she asked, completely ready now to leave to see Neville—they were planning to start up D.A. once more, right before Easter holidays.
"One more thing. I have a favour to ask of you, Ginny," Professor McGonagall added, her voice lowering just a smidge. Ginny noticed the use of her first name, and her attention was piqued. She looked at the professor with more interest this time, and her wanting to leave evaporated,
"Would you be willing to pass this onto Professor Flitwick for me?"
The professor pulled out a drawer behind her desk and produced a thick envelope, with an elaborate, emerald green seal. Ginny nodded, and Professor McGonagall handed her the package.
"The seal won't open without Professor Flitwick's magic, so Miss. Weasley, don't even think about it," Professor McGonagall said, with a hint of smile on her face. Ginny gave her a small smile back.
"Thanks, Professor."
McGonagall shook her head.
"No. It should be I thanking you. Now off you go!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed, making a shooing motion with her hand. Ginny left the classroom with a smile and bag in hand, almost running towards the common room (for she was late to meet Neville), weaving through the throngs of students milling around the halls.
She reached the common room and Ginny found Neville sitting in his usual large armchair by the fireplace, forehead furrowed in focus as he scribbled onto a sheet of parchment. She dropped her bag onto the chair beside it and pulled out the letter for Professor Flitwick. She smirked a little as Neville still didn't notice, and so Ginny reached over and lightly shook him.
"Oh, hey Ginny," he said, giving her a slightly startled smile before returning to his work. Then he looked back up again, with an expression of curiosity. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at the letter.
"McGonagall asked me to sent it to Flitwick. Weird, right? Couldn't she just tell him?" Ginny mused.
"Yeah, that's what I thought too."
"We can't open the letter either; only Flitwick's magic can do that. Which makes it even weirder, since she could just owl it if she wanted to. Nobody else could read it that way," Ginny explained.
"Hmm. It's strange, isn't it?" Neville pondered. Then he shrugged with an air of resignation. "Nothing we can do about it. Anything else interesting?"
"Oh, I'm meeting McGonagall at ten tonight," Ginny remembered. "Dunno why, but she's coming to get me, since it's going to be past curfew by them," she added. Neville nodded absentmindedly and began to sift through the tall stack of textbooks he had in front of him.
"Studying for N.E.W.T. 's?"
Neville nodded once more with a sigh, and the pair lapsed into silence as Ginny, deciding it would be for the best, pulled out her homework too.
"Hey, hand me that letter," Neville suddenly said, completely out of the blue. Ginny looked up, mentally shrugged, and pulled out the envelope of her bag. Neville placed his homework on the coffee table in front of him absentmindedly.
"OK…?" Ginny said, confused.
Neville pried at the seal, but as Ginny had expected, the letter stayed firmly shut. He then pulled out his wand and whispered a spell Ginny didn't quite catch.
The envelope floated up into the air, spinning around in sprinkling, sparking dust. The seal of the parchment broke open and the letter fell out at their feet.
Ginny stared open mouthed and glanced between Neville and the letter.
"What? How?"
"I've been studying how the teachers use their magic just in case, for D.A. and stuff, and how they perform it. Flitwick's was definitely the easiest; a few flourishes here and there, and a snap of the wrist at the end of defense spells. Sprout's a little harder; she has more actions and it seems rather random," Neville explained.
Ginny blinked. "Why?"
"Well, if we ever need to use Polyjuice for something, and the professors being people we would probably transform into, it would be useful. Or something like that, anyway.
"I haven't gotten McGonagall's yet though. Her magic's different, somehow. Stronger, or just too precise for me," Neville said, pointing at the stack of parchment on the coffee table. "That's the notes I've been taking during class."
"Wow, Neville, you really did a lot, didn't you?" Ginny said in awe, picking up a scroll of parchment and skimming it. She read things like 'finishes words with 'tsk',' and 'holds wand up with index finger higher up on handle.'
"It was sort of easy, at least with Flitwick and Sprout. The Carrows weren't hard at all; slur your words enough that it sounds like them, but not enough to mess up the spell. Though if you do screw up, it's not that big of a deal because people are expecting that from them."
"At least I am," said Ginny dryly.
He nodded, smiling, and picked up the parchment off the floor. He unfolded it, and another piece of paper fell from the first letter. Ginny bent down and grabbed it, the words shocking her eyes.
Severus Snape,
This is your Lord. Harry Potter has escaped Gringotts and has stolen something from there. He will be heading for Hogwarts next. Keep your eyes out and the castle guarded. Minerva McGonagall is especially talented at this; use her and is she doesn't comply, torture her into it. She will do it soon.
Do as I ask. Otherwise you know what will happen.
-The Dark Lord
Luna sat on the outskirts of Shell Cottage, right on the edge of the Fidelius Charm, in front of Dobby's grave. In one hand, she spun her new wand around her fingers nimbly. Her original one had sadly been left in Death Eater hands: She was not sure if it had been snapped or not (although even if it wasn't Luna doubted she would get it back). Ollivander had been kind enough to make another for her, free of charge.
She and Dean were bound for Hogwarts soon, and this was her last night at Shell Cottage. Griphook had already left with Harry, Ron and Hermione—they couldn't stay in one place for long, news that the trio had escaped already reached Shell Cottage, just a few days ago.
Ollivander was going to stay at Shell Cottage for a little longer, until he had decided what to do now. Bill and Fleur had been very kind about it, they didn't mind at all—or, they seemed to—Luna tried to spend as much time out of the house as possible; the couple were at Shell Cottage as a replacement of a honeymoon. She felt like an embarrassed trespasser, very much in the way.
Luna trailed her wand lazily around in the sand, looping out intricate, though meaningless, scribbles..
Hogwarts, she mused. I'll get to see Ginny again, that's for sure. Neville too. She wondered how they were faring; did Ginny get into any more detentions? Did Neville start up D.A. again? She was excited to go back, that's for sure.
But what she was truly going to see, was a completely different matter. She was very, very lucky, that she was even alive right now.
Feeling goosebumps, Luna's hand went up to her face, and traced the long scar running down her face, from the tip of her cheekbone to the beginning of her chin. She smiled a little, thinking about how she and Ginny had matching scars now. Like twins, she thought happily. Matching.
Almost absentmindedly, she pointed her wand above Dobby's grave and waved it wordlessly. Small, sparks of various colours flew out of the tip of her wand; tiny, delicate fireworks. They seemingly lazily floated around for a moment. Then: Thank you, Dobby.
"We really do owe him our lives, don't we?"
Luna turned around, and was not surprised at all to see Dean standing right behind her, hands in his pockets, face grim. He sat down beside her, and pulled out his wand too.
Gold, silver, bronze and black sprinklings of light went to join the red, green, blue and yellow, floating aimlessly around them.
"Thank you, Dobby, for saving us," Dean said, his voice soft, and his eyes green.
In the distance, the sun began to settle on the soft, blue ocean, the fireworks looking very out of place and fake, compared to the natural beauty of nature.
"Thank you, Dobby," she spoke softly. "You were never meant to die, though you did. You were never meant to be free, but you became free. I guess you did lots of things you weren't meant to do," Luna said with a small, slightly bitter, smile, conjuring a white lily and placing it on the grave.
Seeing Luna, Dean then stood up and began digging around the beach for a large stone. When he found one, he planted it standing straight upright in the sand, sitting side by side to Dobby's. Dean used his wand and carefully carved into the old, rusted away stone: Ted Tonks. Husband, father, grandfather, and a true warrior until the very end.
"That's very nice of you, Dean," Luna said, helping him secure the stone into the sand more firmly.
"I'm not being nice. I'm doing what I have to do. He did what he had to do."
Luna nodded. She conjured, once again, a pure white lily and laid down by the grave.
"To Ted Tonks. I did not know you very well; barely really. But what I do know, is that you have the heart of an angel, the hands of a healer, and the soul of Helga Hufflepuff herself. There's a reason Andromeda Black fell for you. You were one of the kindest people I have ever met, and I will make sure you would not have died in vain," Luna said quietly. She waved her wand silently and a shower of soft, yellow rose petals rained down onto the grave, swirling along with the the fireworks, until they scattered and vanished into the air.
"Hey, Mr. Tonks. I knew you for a few weeks, and that was it. You don't even know how much I have to thank you for. You let me join you. You did not deserve to die. Especially since you were a muggleborn." Dean took a breath and placed a trembling hand on the grave. "You did not die in vain, and for me to die. I'm going to fight as hard as I can," Dean declared firmly. He then got up, and without another word walked back up to the Cottage, leaving Luna with her thoughts, and the setting sun.
Ginny stood right at the entrance of the Gryffindor common room, waiting for Professor McGonagall, doing that awkward feet shuffle people do when waiting. As the professor had asked, she was in her robes, and Ginny fiddled with its hem nervously. She played with her wand in hand, attempting to twirl it, and glanced impatiently at the grandfather clock in the common room.
9:58. Two more minutes.
9:59. One more minute.
Ginny paced around the door, unable to stand still anymore. When the clock struck ten, the door of the common room finally swung open, and Professor McGonagall walked in, stopping short of Ginny.
"Miss. Weasley. I am glad to see that you're ready," she said shortly. "Come with me." After that, McGonagall left through the portrait hole and Ginny had to jog a bit to catch with the professor's long strides. They headed in the direction of McGonagall's office, a route that Ginny had long memorised by now.
Once they reached the tall, familiar door of the office, McGonagall pointed her wand at the fireplace, making it burst up in flames, warming the dark room. The professor clearly had not been in the room earlier.
"Sit, please," McGonagall said, gesturing to a chair in front of her desk. Ginny sat down in the seat, and waited patiently as Professor McGonagall hung up her cloak and sat down.
"I presume you already know why you are here today," Professor McGonagall said grimly, with an air of apology. Ginny looked at her in confusion, but McGonagall didn't notice for she was shuffling some papers around on her desk. A nervous twitch, Ginny realised with astonishment. Since when did Professor McGonagall get nervous? And, for what?
"I'm sorry, Professor, but I actually don't know," Ginny said, tilting her head curiously. Professor McGonagall's head snapped up, and her eyes narrowed at her.
"You didn't get the letter?"
"What letter?" Ginny said, her voice hollow. A letter had been sent to me?
Professor McGonagall placed her head in her hands and rubbed her temples, removing her glasses.
"That, that," the professor said, seemingly speechless. She ran her hand through her hair, making wisps of strands come out of her bun. She shook her head, amazed. "I was expecting many things tonight, Miss. Weasley, but it certainly was not that."
Ginny looked at McGonagall, flabbergasted.
"Who was supposed to send me a letter?"
"Your mother."
"My mother?" Ginny repeated in bewilderment.
"I believe that is Molly Weasley?" Professor McGonagall remarked rather dryly. GInny didn't reply and sat on the edge of her seat, waiting for more. "Your mother will be arriving shortly. That was what the letter was going to say. It's fine, she'll be here either way," she added as Ginny started to open her mouth. With that, Professor McGonagall left the room through another door, leading presumably to a bedroom, leaving Ginny alone and wondering what the hell was happening.
Suddenly, Ginny heard a loud crackling noise in the background, and turned towards it.
The fireplace had flared up dramatically and turned bright green as a figure stumbled out.
"Ah, Molly. It is nice to see you again," Professor McGonagall said, coming back into the room, wand in hand. Ginny's mother dusted off the ash on her robes and shook Professor McGonagall's hand with a smile.
"And I to you. Sorry about the ash, Minerva," Mrs. Weasley said apologetically.
"No worries," McGonagall replied, waving it away with a flick of her wand. Molly then leaned in and whispered something in McGonagall's ear; she nodded, expression grave.
Mrs. Weasley then turned to face Ginny and a huge grin broke out on her face.
"Ginny!"
Ginny rushed up from her seat and jumped into her mother's arms.
"Mum!" She stuffed her face into her mother's robes, inhaling the soft lavender perfume her mother wore. Ginny pulled back first and from the corner of her eye, she could swear that she saw Professor McGonagall smile warmly.
"Hello, my dear. Come on, we're going home!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed happily, grabbing Ginny's hand and heading towards the fireplace.
"Wait. Mum, what?" Ginny asked, stopping her mother and digging her heels into the carpet.
"We're going home!" Her mother repeated, a happy glint in her eye that Ginny wasn't quite too used to.
"But I have school, here! At Hogwarts?" Ginny scrutinised her mother with a searching eye. Her mother nodded.
"Yes, yes I know, but your father has already set up the charm! Come on, dear, you'll be fine!" Mrs. Weasley tugged on Ginny's hand, but she stopped her once more, waving it away, a little annoyed.
"Why is everyone assuming I know what's going on? What charm?"
Molly froze on the spot, smile gone from her face.
"You didn't get my letter?" Ginny shook her head uselessly. Mrs. Weasley looked frantically at Professor McGonagall.
"I do not know if it had been lost or intercepted, Molly. You best get going," the professor said, a worried look on her face as she summoned what Ginny recognised as her trunk.
"Why am I going home?" Ginny asked loudly, exasperated, looking between the two adults standing before her.
"That will be explained once you get arrive there, Miss. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, rushing Ginny and her mother closer to the fireplace.
"Come on, Ginny. Speak clearly, 'The Burrow'. I'll be right behind you," Mrs. Weasley said, stuffing a handful of Floo powder into her fist. When Ginny hesitated, her mother glared at her, panic in her eyes.
Knock. Knock. Two loud taps on the door made them all turn. Professor McGonagall gave the both of them a piercing, frantic look and whispered,
"Both of you, go! The Carrows must've gotten the letter instead!" McGonagall said, while glancing nervously at the door.
That done it for Ginny. So what if she didn't know anything about what was happening? Her past with the Carrows flared up and Ginny immediately turned back to the fireplace and stepped in, saying in a hushed, hurried tone "The Burrow," as clearly as possible. She was swallowed into the flames and disappeared.
Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace in her home, and Fred's face immediately greeted her. He caught her by the arms, attempting to spin her around (and failing miserable) until she shook him off with a glare.
"Aw, it looks like 'ickle Ginny is in a foul mood, don't you think, George?" Out of nowhere, George popped into the room, a grin plastered over his face.
"Do shut up, Fred," Ginny shot back with an eye-roll. She turned back to the fireplace, waiting for her mother nervously. She peered into the fireplace, as if it would have some kind of indication that her mother was appearing soon. "Aren't you two supposed to be at the store or something?" Ginny said, not taking her eyes off the fireplace.
"Didn't Mum tell you? In the letter?" George asked, his voice for once serious. The twins shared a look that Ginny was much too familiar with and didn't bother trying to understand what it meant anymore.
"No. The letter was lost, or intercepted," Ginny replied bitterly. She didn't bother explaining any further (no one did for her, she reasoned) and continued to wait by the fireplace for her mother.
And something did appear—but not her mother. A patronus in the form of tabby cat floated in front of her, taking Ginny, Fred and George by complete surprise.
"Isn't that McGonagall's patronus?" Fred asked, in shock, for once not trying to crack a joke. The cat then opened its mouth and spoke in a clear, loud tone.
"Miss. Weasley, your mother and I had a small delay, and your mother will be arriving shortly. Do not panic, we just had a small run in," the voice of Minerva McGonagall said, and then disappeared away in a gust of wind.
Ginny looked at George, and George looked at Fred, and Fred looked back at Ginny.
"What do you reckon happened?" George asked.
"I bet the Carrows caught up with them. I bet it was them who got the letter," Ginny replied bitterly.
Just then, a harried Molly Weasley stumbled out of the fireplace, with a trunk floating behind her.
"Mum! Finally! What happened?" Ginny exclaimed, running up to her mother, and grabbing the trunk.
"Nothing. It was nothing," her mother replied, shrugging off her cloak and draping it on a couch. Ginny glared at her.
"Yeah right. Seriously, Mum. Tell me," Ginny said.
"Ginny's right," Fred said, agreeing with her sister. George nodded.
Mrs. Weasley sighed wearily. "Sit down, all of you," she said with a sigh, pouring herself a cup of tea. "This is going to take a while."
Logan spread the newspaper out on his desk in the sixth years' Slytherin dormitory, hands shaking with dread. The large, black, bold title glared up at him: THREE WIZARDING FAMILIES KILLED—MORE BELOW. Logan's eyes scanned the page frantically, eyes flicking through the names, praying to everything he knew.
He stopped cold at the last two names on the list. His fear was confirmed. Imelda Erudia. Roland Erudia. His mother and father. Logan stared at the newspaper in complete, utter shock, sliding down the wall until he was sitting on the ground, his head in his hands.
He could see his vision beginning to blur and the tears beginning to fall. He picked up a vase off his roommate's bedside table and hurled it at the snake portrait right above the fireplace. He could feel the anger taking over inside him, like a fire burning to burst forth.
Logan shook his head with fury and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder, throwing it into the fireplace. He practically screamed the words "Lestrange Manor" and jumped into the fire, letting it carry him away to the house of Rabastan Lestrange.
Once he got to the manor, his first instinct was to yell, scream it all out of him. So he did.
"RABASTAN!" he heard himself holler, voice utterly soaked with anger, and he grabbed his wand and pointed it at the man sitting calmly in a tall, black chair; the man's fingers laced together. The expression on his face was almost sickening; a small smirk with dangerously glinting eyes was all Logan saw.
"HOW DARE YOU! YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN'T KILL THEM! YOU PROMISED! You promised…" Logan screamed, until his voice gave away, until he came down to his knees.
Rabastan slowly got up from his throne and approached Logan. He placed two thin fingers under his chin and lifted his head up, forcing Logan to look at him.
"My, my, someone's got a temper," Rabastan said softly, his smirk growing wider. "I didn't kill your parents, you know."
Logan glared at the man, tears still in his eyes, as he got up and walked to the back of the room, pulling open the curtains, letting the sunlight stream in.
"Then what made you think I was talking about my parents?" he snapped angrily. Rabastan turned back around, rolling his eyes.
"Who else would it be? Your sisters?" he sneered. "I doubt that possible, with them at Hogwarts," Rabastan said, his voice vile. Logan snarled and pointed his wand at him.
"I'm going to kill you, Rabastan. YOU'RE GOING TO PAY!" Logan screamed, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. It didn't take much.
Rabastan looked at Logan with a lazy smile. "Are you sure about that? Do you really have the nerve? You barely had enough to turn on your dear friend, Ginny Weasley. Who says you're going to have the skill to kill me?" Rabastan challenged.
Once again blinded by grief and guilt, guilt he now realised was all for nothing, Logan ran up to the much taller man and stuck his wand at Rabastan's neck.
"Goodbye, Rabastan Lestrange," Logan whispered, with a dangerous determination. Then, he shouted, "AVADA KED—"
Then, all of a sudden, Logan's wand disappeared and Rabastan stood behind him, Logan's wand in hand. Rabastan snarled at him, and pointed the wand straight at him.
"How dare you try an Unforgivable. You think you can cast an Unforgivable!" He barked a scathing laugh. "I guess you are as stupid as you made yourself to be! Your mother cried for you, you know," he continued with a sigh, "right before I killed her. She cried for you, as I told her the sad sob story that is now your life. I told her, oh, I said it all, about how I forced you to betray your only friend, how you loved your poor mother so much you were willing to do that, and about tipping the Carrows off when Ginny Weasley was supposed to safely leave with her mother. It was a shame that we didn't get the girl, only the stupid professor and mother," Rabastan spat, jabbing the wand in Logan's cheek.
"Your mother cried, and it was even before I killed your father, the mudblood," Rabastan continued on, smiling sickeningly at Logan.
He couldn't take it anymore. He didn't want to know how his parents died, he didn't want this anymore! He didn't want to live in fear!
"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" Logan cried out, ending with a broken sob. Rabastan's smile grew even bigger.
"No, I don't think I will. Your mother was a beautiful woman, you know? Pureblood, traditional, until she ran off with that mudblood bastard." His eyes darkened dangerously. "She was supposed to be mine, all mine. And you know what, she is mine. Her body was mine, right before she died. All mine," Rabastan said, his eyes growing glassy at the thought, a dazed, dreaming smile. Logan gasped and backed away in horror, disgust. No, that couldn't have happened, he thought. No, it's not possible.
Rabastan shook himself out of the daze. "I think this will be the end of you, Logan Erudia," he said, pointing the wand at him.
Then, suddenly, Rabastan grabbed his left forearm and gasped in pain. He disappeared on the spot, in a puff of black smoke, leaving behind nothing but Logan's wand.
Logan smiled to himself, relieved, weary, miserable, at the same time. He picked it up and grinned, despite the serious circumstances. Then, walking towards down into the basement where he knew Rabastan kept his potions, he grabbed what appeared to be a bottle of firewhisky, half empty, and placed it on the table in the room he was originally in, the room he took it from. It transformed back from its charm, back into the Draught of Living Death. He left a note along with the potion,
Bottoms up. Enjoy!
He then headed for the fireplace, grabbing a fistful of Floo powder and travelled the several miles back to Hogwarts.
Author's Note:
Hey! I'm back and I hope you have enjoyed this chapter, I know it's been a long time, but I was trying to get through a block. Please review, I would really like to know what you're thinking!
-Zigostia