The Carrows' Calling
Chapter Twenty-Six
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, if it did, I would be crazy rich, and a Marauder's series would be out.
"Filius, I trust you received my message?" Minerva leaned to her right and whispered into Professor Flitwick's ear. (Rather shocking that she managed this too, for she was quite tall, and he, quite small.)
The other professor looked back at her, a frown on his face and concern in his eyes. "I'm not quite sure what you're talking about, Minerva. I have not received such a letter," Flitwick mumbled back.
Minerva looked at him with surprise. "Miss. Weasley didn't give it to you?"
Filius looked at her with growing concern. "Are you sure you're well, Minerva? I don't think Miss. Weasley has even spoke to me these past days," he joked.
Minerva tightened her lips with exasperation and took a quick glance to her right, making sure Snape really was not at dinner. As usual, the gloomy, clad in black Headmaster was absent from the meal. Good for him.
Minerva sniffed at Flitwick. "I am acutely aware of my health, Filius, though I do thank you for your concern. Are you sure you didn't get my letter?" Minerva prompted once more, pressing for a different answer.
Filius shook his head. "Positive."
Minerva sat back in her seat and pressed a hand to her suddenly-damp forehead, remembering the hot-headed, stubborn redhead she had entrusted this deed to. She remembered the fierce curiosity in her eyes, that all-too-familiar look.
It couldn't be. Ginny couldn't have been able to open the seal—she charmed it, for Merlin's sake!
Had she read Ginny's abilities wrong? Had she underestimated the youngest Weasley child?
Or was it something different? Perhaps someone else had gotten it, either from Ginny, or from Filius after he received it. Minerva leaned back on her seat and thought. The former was much more probable, Filius surely would've told her if the letter had fallen into another's hands. Or was he?
The happenings of Polyjuice was also another option, but considering the Death Eaters' intelligence, that one was much, much less likely.
"Minerva?" Filius prodded again, worried by the sudden silence. He cautiously rested a hand on her arm.
She looked down at him and shook herself out of her thoughts.
"I have to go," she rushed out, and left the Great Hall through the door on the right side, one normally reserved for emergencies. She ignored Filius' questioning look and fled the room.
Once she was sure she was alone, Minerva broke into a run—only to be stopped by a cold, firm hand on her back. She froze, grabbing her wand in her pocket, though not taking it out.
"Professor McGonagall. What a pleasure to find you in the hallways. Why aren't you in the Great Hall?" A slick, slimy voice drawled from behind her. Minerva spun around, whipping off the hand on her back, and found herself facing Amycus Carrow. A part of her almost wished it would've been Snape instead.
She held back a shudder and stood straight, raising an eyebrow and staring the man in the eye with a cold, hard glint. She could've sworn she saw his gaze falter, and had to keep a smirk from creeping onto her face.
"Professor Carrow," she replied smoothly, keeping the professionalism in her voice, but not concealing all her coldness. She kept a firm grip on her wand from inside her pocket.
"Would you like to walk to my rooms with me? There is something I would like to discuss with you," Amycus said suddenly, leaning in close—she could feel his hot breath on her face, and tried to hold her mouth. "In private."
Minerva forced a smile to hide how repulsed she was. "Why the complications? We can just speak here. Can we not, Professor Carrow? I'm sure it's nothing too serious," she replied breezily, as innocent as possible.
But alas, she felt him place a hand on her back once more, and steer her towards the direction of the dungeons. Minerva uttered a cry and began to resist, but the hand pressed itself more firmly into her back, forcing her into a still.
"Ah, but I would feel much more comfortable in my office," he purred, his voice silky smooth. Minerva had to bite her tongue from saying anything too bad. She drew in a long breath.
"Of course, Professor," she replied, trying her utmost best not to show her venom.
Amycus suddenly had a nasty grin. He kept his hand on her back and lead her down the hall, pulling her into another room, which was clearly not his office.
He closed the door behind him, and right before he did, Minerva was very tempted to make a run for it. Where's that Gryffindor in you? You're the Head of House, for Merlin's sake! She ran her fingers across the engravings on her wand, and held it tight.
"Well Professor, I believe there is something about this room you need to tell me about," Amycus said, gesturing around him. She scanned her surroundings, and could smack herself for not noticing what she had gotten herself into.
"I know nothing, 'tis merely a room, is it not, Professor?" she replied, looking around again, desperately looking for a way of escape without exposing one of the most well guarded secrets in Hogwarts history.
Suddenly, Amycus pushed her up against the wall and glared at her. Minerva had to turn her head to keep the scent of onions and rotten breath away from her.
"I know nothing!" she exclaimed, and threw him across the room. Then, dusting herself off, she walked right up to him, and pointed her wand at his throat.
"Next time, Professor, it would be best to hold a professional stance to a colleague," she said, her voice calm and steady. She then walked out the door, locking it behind her as she summoned Amycus' wand from his pocket.
"GET THEM!" the voice of Amycus Carrow shrieked, running like the wind (a rather uncoordinated wind, that is) after two hurrying figures, cloaked in black. Their heads were bent low, wands held out before them. However, they seemed to be running straight into a dead end.
Neville could hear the pounding footsteps of Amycus behind him; they seemed to be getting closer, as he bent his head lower, putting on another burst of speed, and sprinted his way towards the Room of Requirement. He had never needed it as much as he had now, and even before he and Luna had passed the wall once, a door simmered up beside them, and Neville, letting out a hysterical noise of relief, made a sharp right turn and disappeared.
Amycus would wonder where he had gone. Neville couldn't keep from smirking, despite his exhaustion; he could almost hear the anguished screaming of the professor, disappointed he couldn't torture another student.
Once he reached the safe haven of the room, he ripped off the black cloak and collapsed on the floor, gasping for air. Luna appeared shortly, flopping down beside him.
"Hey, that wasn't too bad, was it?" she asked brightly, between gasps, lying beside Neville.
"No. No, it wasn't that bad," he replied with a smile, breath short and cheeks rosy.
"How'd it go?" A voice floated out from a darkened corner. Dean appeared from his seat there and sat down, again, next to them this time.
Neville spoke, breath slowly coming back now. "Not bad. We got the ink on the walls, and the papers all over the place. Dumbledore's Army is back for good," he said, a quick summary that didn't give the past few moments justice.
"Carrow #1 found us though, but was too slow for us," Luna added with a grin, sitting up now, and playing with her wand.
"How come? Did the charm wear off?"
Luna and Neville looked at each other and shrugged.
"I'm actually not sure; it wasn't supposed to anyways. Maybe there's something wrong with my wand?" Neville offered dubiously. Dean nodded, and looked into the distance, clearly lost in thought.
"Did anyone touch your wand before this?" he questioned after a while, holding out an open palm.
"No, I don't think so. My wand is on me at all times, and there's even a charm to keep it in my pocket," Neville replied as he handed Dean the wand. He turned it a few times in his hands, scrutinising it.
"I think someone might've tinkered with it, maybe placed some type of jinx or something," Dean explained, as he gave the wand back to Neville.
Luna's eyebrows shot up, then drew into a furrow. "Are you sure?"
"I don't know for sure, but it sure feels like it; the magic is off, somehow," Dean said, chewing on his lip. "You should give it to McGonagall or Flitwick to check it. You don't want to have a malfunctioning wand at this time."
Neville nodded, and placed the wand back into his pocket.
"Hey, you have that detention tomorrow, don't you?" Luna piped up.
Neville looked at her with a bit of surprise—he hadn't told anyone about that. "How did you know?"
Luna gave a small, slightly embarrassed smile, a faint blush creeping to her cheeks. "I had decided to watch over your lessons, hoping that you wouldn't be too hot-headed with the professors. Seems I was too late," Luna replied, with a small, sheepish laugh. Neville smiled at her.
"Well, you're right. But in my defense, I couldn't stand Carrow was saying," Neville countered.
"I know, Neville, but you're really going to have to watch that temper of yours; it's going to cause even more trouble," Dean joined in.
Neville looked at the ground, feeling slightly guilty. "I know," he muttered.
"But anyways," Dean said, "you should probably go and get McGonagall to check that wand."
"Right now?" Neville exclaimed. "It's way too late, I bet she's asleep! I'll do it tomorrow," he said, brushing it off.
Dean tightened his lips, and looked at him seriously. "Best get it checked now; what if something happens? Even if it is 11:30. You gotta be careful these days."
Luna placed a hand on his arm soothingly.
"It's fine. I doubt much will happen before 9:00 tomorrow," Luna said, her voice soft. "And we should probably go to bed now, too."
Neville nodded. "Luna's right; I'll leave it for tonight and check it tomorrow."
Dean resigned with a shrug.
"Goodnight, then."
The three of them headed for one of the hammocks by the wall. Neville climbed into his, wrapping the warm blanket around him. Then, transfiguring his clothes into pajamas, his eyes closed and he felt himself drifting into a deep sleep.
Minerva walked as calmly as she could, out of the castle and into the forest. She easily found the small clearing that she normally went to, and with a small "pop", she Disapparated off the grounds of Hogwarts.
A millisecond before she felt the grab and pull at her body, she caught a glimpse of a slight shadow, right in the corner of her eye. I'm probably seeing things; it's been a long day, she thought, and brushed it off without another thought.
When she opened her eyes again, she had landed in a vast meadow clearing and a tall, round, blue forcefield stood before her. She could not see anything inside it, but she knew that she had arrived at the Burrow. Stepping through the barrier, feeling the slight ripple of air pass through her body, she waved off her invisibility charm and headed to knock thrice on the door.
Through the small mailbox flap, (one she was sure Arthur had insisted on installing there) two bright, brown eyes looked back at her, and, as Minerva raised a hand in greeting, they widened in surprise. The door immediately flung open and she was engulfed by a hug by Molly Weasley.
Minerva flinched ever so; she always did, she could never help it. There was just such a… personal thing about hugging, and Minerva was always just a tad uncomfortable with it.
As Minerva tensed, she saw Molly's shoulders relax.
"Hello Molly. Sorry to intrude without notice, but I urgently need to speak with your daughter," Minerva explained. Molly nodded, gave a bright smile, and Minerva could almost see the small, little red-haired girl standing before her desk, beaming proudly after a completed transfiguration.
"Ginny, dear! There's someone here for you!" Molly shouted into the house, her voice carrying up the stairs. "Come in, dear," she then ushered to Minerva.
Minerva stepped past the door and shrugged off her cloak. She placed it on the couch, and followed Molly to the dinner table.
"Cup of tea?"
Minerva shook her head.
"It's fine, Molly. I won't be long," she replied, and tapped her fingers on the old, garnished table.
"What do you want to speak to Ginny with?" Molly asked quietly, sitting down across from her, eyes slightly narrowed.
"Nothing for you to worry about," Minerva replied cautiously, not completely sure she should tell Molly about the letter. Suddenly, she heard loud, thumping footsteps racing down the stairs. Right after, Ginny rushed into the room, her hair a complete disaster, wand sticking out of her back pocket.
"What is it Mu—" she paused mid-sentence, and her eyes widened. "Er, hello, Professor McGonagall," she stammered, fiddling her fingers. She raised her hands to her head, and tried unsuccessfully to pat down her hair. "What are you doing here?"
"Professor McGonagall has something to speak to you about," Molly said, getting up and pointing her wand at a pile of carrots. Minerva nodded.
"Yes, perhaps we could go into your room? I would like to discuss this with you in private," Minerva said crisply, rising from her seat and gesturing for Ginny to lead the way.
"Oh, of course!" she replied quickly, and, nearly breaking into a run, gone up the stairs and turned into a small room that was just barely larger than Minerva's washroom. Minerva stepped in and shut the door, casting a silencing charm. Ginny took a seat on her bed and indicated for Minerva to sit at her desk. She gingerly sat down, not really sure if the weak looking chair could support her weight.
"Miss. Weasley. I'm sure you're wondering why I have come," she started off, and Ginny nodded her head.
"Yes, Professor. Is there anything wrong at Hogwarts?"
"No, everything is… about the same as when you'd left," Minerva said, lying straight through her teeth. Hogwarts was not doing well, and Ginny leaving had not helped at all. She felt a pang of remorse, but it dissipated after seeing the girl give a sigh of relief.
"I would also like to inform you that Miss. Lovegood and Mr. Thomas are back at the castle, though not attending their classes," Minerva added, and she could see the happiness in the girl's eyes.
"Really?"
"Would I lie to you, Miss. Weasley?" Minerva asked, raising an eyebrow. She barely kept herself from a hysterical laugh.
"No, Professor," Ginny said solemnly, and Minerva nodded, forcing herself to crush her guilt.
"Now, I am wondering where the letter went, the one that I had asked, if I remember correctly, for you to give to Professor Flitwick. I was told by him that the letter had not reached his hands, and I am wondering if you know where it is," Minerva said, tone darkening, and Ginny distinctively paled. She looked down and didn't meet her eyes.
Minerva suppressed a smile, despite the serious circumstances. "Is there something you're not telling me, Miss. Weasley?"
Ginny mumbled into her collar. Minerva frowned, not quite catching what her student had said.
"I would be able to hear you better if you weren't speaking into your shirt," Minerva said, her voice a little softer, a bit more comforting.
"Neville and I opened it," Ginny said with a little more clarity, though still not very loud.
Minerva felt her stomach drop.
The first moment was of absolute shock, her eyes wide, her heart pounding.
But then, she looked at the bold Gryffindor, the one who had caused so much trouble, head down beside her, and the surprise turned to a weary resignation.
Of course that would happen. It was Ginny Weasley; what did she expect? For her to just pass on a mystery letter with nothing more than a glance at the envelope?
"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor!" Ginny burst out, almost spitting the words. "I couldn't… it was just—" she cut off and looked down at her feet once again.
"Just what, Miss. Weasley?"
"I suppose curiosity killed the cat," Ginny replied, a slight smile glittering on her face. Minerva glared at the girl. Didn't she get enough of that around Albus?
"Then I suppose you read what was in the letter, and decided to do something about it?" Minerva asked, rather innocently, though she felt herself slightly shake—Ginny wasn't the type just to sit down when there was something to be done. Ginny looked down once more, and her voice diminished quite a bit.
"Yes. I did. But I didn't have the chance to get to it," she replied, her voice steady. Minerva felt herself release a sigh of relief—nothing foolish happened. But, how did Ginny get into the envelope?
"May I ask how you opened the letter?" she questioned, eyeing Ginny with curiosity. Suddenly, the girl piped up and her eyes glowed with pride.
"Actually, Professor, it wasn't me. It was Neville," she proudly said. Minerva cocked her head, displaying an expression saying, go on. "I think it'd be best if you ask him."
"Oh, really? Honestly Miss. Weasley, when I told you to not open it, I meant it!" Minerva exclaimed, the anger flaring up inside her. That letter was private, for Merlin's sake! Ginny bowed down her head once more, and was utterly fascinated by the floor.
"Sorry, Professor," she mumbled. Minerva then acted against her mind, and reached out to lift up the girl's chin.
"Miss. Weasley, it wasn't right, what you did, but do you promise me that you haven't done anything absurdly reckless upon the letter? You do know that you can come to me," she finished, and dropped her hand. Ginny looked up at her and gave her a small smile. Minerva returned it.
"Yes. Nothing reckless happened. Nothing at all."
"Well, it looks like the great Neville Longbottom has been caught," Amycus sneered, wrenching Neville by the collar. Neville kept a passive face, though he could feel a smile peek through.
"It looks it he has," Neville replied quietly, letting the smile shine through now, allowing Amycus to throw him like a rag doll onto the floor. He didn't even mind. "Nothing much left for me to do, anyways. You're not going to win. You know that, right?"
Amycus scoffed and puffed out his chest, sneering even more. He looked rather like an oversized rooster, Neville thought, that didn't match the red and gold decor.
"You must be delusional. The Lord has already won, don't you know? He's already won, and soon, Lord Voldemort will be everyone's lord!" he exclaimed, raising his hand to the air, like he was holding up an imaginary object. Neville had to keep himself from bursting out in laughter from the scene before him: Amycus looked utterly and absolutely ridiculous.
But then, suddenly, he pulled a small envelope from his pocket. He dropped it on the desk, making an oddly quiet, nearly silent thump. Must be heavy, whatever it is.
"What's that?" Neville asked, his voice calm and almost mocking, sounding like a young child questioning how babies were made.
"That's for me to know, and you to find out. But I bet one of your professors would find it amusing," Amycus replied, his face twisting into a wicked grin.
"Alright then," Neville said nonchalantly, but his eyes darted over to where the letter had landed, trying to see what it was, and what had made it so heavy, for a bundle of parchment. Something was bulging out from it. He couldn't quite make out what.
Suddenly, the Death Eater's eyes looked straight at Neville, and he pulled his wand out of seemingly nowhere, and pointed it at him.
"There's some news for you too, Longbottom, and I'm afraid it might not be the most pleasant. But let's finish this game first," he said, his voice sickeningly sweet and a disgusting smile etched on his face.
"Crucio!" he yelled, and Neville felt himself being lifted off the ground, and an excruciating pain flew through his body, and though this curse was not new, it was very much just as painful as before. He felt as though thousands of minuscule daggers were cutting into him, ripping him apart bit by bit, and each blade tripling in pain. He couldn't help but let a cry escape his mouth, and although he didn't hear it, he definitely heard the cackle of laughter from Carrow. He gritted his teeth together; he couldn't let Amycus have the satisfaction of knowing he hurt him. Merlin knows how he did it, but he stayed silent after that one shriek.
Finally, after what had seemed ages, the pain suddenly stopped, and he collapsed to ground, panting.
"Well, wasn't that fun," Amycus cackled, speaking so close into Neville face that he could feel his breath on his cheek. Neville wanted to slap that face. Still panting, he managed to push himself to a sitting position.
"Very fun," Neville gasped back, clutching his side where the pain seemed to linger.
"I promised you news after the fun, didn't I?" Carrow said, taunting him. "Yes, I did. Well, Longbottom, it seems that your grandmother is dead."
And the weirdly mesmerising patterns of the ceiling were the last he saw before the world went black.
Minerva walked briskly through the hallways, thoroughly annoyed, yet with a very slight sense of admiration for Ginny Weasley. Pushing open her office door, a strangled gasp escaped her mouth.
Neville Longbottom was collapsed on the ground, his mouth hanging slightly open, blood seeping into his tattered clothes. Minerva dropped to the floor beside him, instinct taking over; she waved her wand and levitated him onto the couch. A trickle of blood reached her hand, and she wiped it on her sleeve hurriedly, grabbing a handkerchief out of her pocket, pressing it against the long, slim cut on the side of Neville's cheek.
"Dear Merlin, Longbottom, what happened?" she muttered. Still keeping her hand on the gash, she got up and snatched a small bottle of dittany off her desk, then dripping a drop or two onto the wound. Almost instantly, it closed up and the only blood left was on her sleeve. Minerva then reached for a red tartan blanket and draped it over the boy. He gave a small sigh of comfort, and so did Minerva.
She had no idea how he had gotten there, or why. But, she'd let him sleep for now. Answers would come in the morning. With a quiet whisper, she double locked the door to her office, making sure no one could come in, or leave.
Just as she was about to get ready for bed, a envelope on her desk caught her sight. How peculiar, she thought, as she reached down and unsealed the bright orange wax. The whole thing looked rather ridiculous really, from the crazy bright colours closing, to the oddly eye-catching, very distinctive brown of the parchment itself.
Then, her eyes narrowed as she read the strangely familiar handwriting, and as she continued, she was barely keeping herself from ripping the paper and burning it immediately.
Dear Professor McGonagall,
It's such a shame for your student, Neville Longbottom, to hear the news of the death of his grandmother, Augusta Longbottom. I decided to break the news to him in the gentlest and kindest tone possible, as I was the first to know. The poor boy fainted from shock, and I'd decided it would be best for you to deal with it. Please give my most sincere condolences.
Much love and regret,
Amycus Carrow.
Minerva clutched the paper in her hands, crumpling it. She looked back to the envelope, and realised there was something else.
She reached inside, and pulled out a large, long knife. Upon its handle was engraved, "May the best man win."
Though the situation was beyond serious, Minerva couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh out. Couldn't they be more original? Turning the knife thrice in her hand, and tracing her finger across the blade, she noticed that there was a very slight bloodstain on it.
Minerva looked from the dark crimson stain, over to a sleeping Neville, and her fingers tightened on the handle. She was going to kill that man, she was sure of it. The rage inside her grew in size, more kindle for her already-present rage. Minerva's self restraint was only going to hold so long.
She placed a protective charm around it and locked it into a drawer inside her desk, charming it to sound her if it was ever opened. Then, because despite the circumstances, she still somehow had an enormous pile of papers to mark, she grabbed her quill and sat down at her desk.
But the candle light slowly made her eyes droop, and the words in front of her became a hazy blur, and the world began to close.
"Professor!"
The fireplace burned up to a shade of iridescent green, and out stepped a young man of around thirty. He had red hair and dazzling blue eyes, clearly a Weasley.
Minerva's head snapped up to the smell of ash and smoke, only to see Bill Weasley greeting her. She immediately got up and pulled out her wand.
"What happened?" she exclaimed, thinking of the worst. Had someone died? Has Harry been caught?
Bill then suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her vigorously, his face beaming with a bright grin, and his eyes almost brimming with tears.
"Potter's made it! He's made it out of Gringotts! He's alive!"
She slapped a hand over her mouth and had to keep her face from bursting into a smile. The joy rushed through all her body, and she wanted to hug the life out of the young man in front of her. She too, felt her eyes burning up.
"Potter's alive!"
Author's Note:
Hey! I know it's been a long time (two months) since I've updated, but I hope you'll forgive me! I'm going to say that I hope to get the new chapter out soon, but I know that's going to be a lie. Hopefully it will be less than two months between now and the next time I update. Please review, it really means a lot to me. (And gives motivation for me to write!) It just takes a few words: even "It sucks!" works! Thanks for reading!
-Zigostia