School work encroached upon them with a vengeance following Easter break and all of their professors were heavy into NEWT exam preparation. Rachel made an effort to focus in class, to participate in the study sessions, and to do her homework, but her heart and mind were still preoccupied with the war.
By the start of May the Dark Lord had still not contacted her and she hadn't had another vision since Easter. She had pressed Severus, asking why she couldn't contact the Dark Lord now and see if she could get him to respond, but he had told her that Albus said to wait and he would let her know when to initiate contact. Rachel was not pleased about that. She knew she didn't have the whole picture of the war but she couldn't see any reason to delay while people were dying every day.
Rachel had asked him if he thought it was right for them to wait, and he has simply said that they could not proceed without Albus and that it was probable that something else was being set up that they couldn't risk disturbing and nor should they ask. He had told her that the division of information was frustrating, but necessary to protect the entire Order and their operations.
So here Rachel was on the first Saturday in May, getting ready to play a Quidditch game that her heart wasn't really in. She would do her best for her team, of course she would, but right now Quidditch felt childish compared to the war that loomed outside the gates.
"We good?" Scarlett asked as they finished getting ready in the locker room.
"Yeah. Unless there's something I should know?" Rachel asked as she checked her bracers.
"No, it should be a simple match. Hufflepuff hasn't been a threat to us since Cedric left. You just have seemed a little distant lately."
"Sorry." She hadn't realized she was coming off that way to other people. "I suppose I'm distracted."
"You've got a lot on your plate. Seventh years are usually distracted by this point. Do you have any idea who Professor Snape is naming captain next year?" Scarlett asked.
"You would be my choice, though I know he prefers to have a captain serve at least two years. If not you, then maybe Martin and then Viola once Martin finishes," Rachel suggested. "But no, I don't know what he's going to do."
"I'd be fine with Martin as the captain. We're going to have to recruit heavily next year, but that's next year's problem. Let's just get through today's game and take the cup. We're in a good position for it." Scarlett grabbed her broom.
Rachel finished checking her shin guards and then collected her own broom. "We'll be fine."
They joined the boys outside and Viola and Penelope were there to be with the team before the game.
Rachel took a second to push all of her other thoughts from her mind. She was with her team right now and they needed her to be the captain. "Alright, Hufflepuff. Should be a fairly straightforward game. We only need 80 points to take the cup regardless of who wins and that should be easy enough for our Chasers to manage. I'd say Hufflepuff's Chaser team is middling at best, so you shouldn't have any problems, Timothy. Anthony and Maxine have a little more experience as Beaters this year, but I'm not concerned. Their Keeper hasn't proven up to the task yet, so use their goal hoops freely."
"Piece of cake," Harper said with a nod.
"Should be an easy win, but no fooling around. Let's show them what a practiced team can do," Draco agreed.
"No problem," Martin said.
"Let's kick Hufflepuff ass," Scarlett said eagerly.
Rachel nodded. "Let's keep it clean. On the pitch."
"Good luck!" Penelope called after them.
"No luck needed," Stephen called back.
Rachel led her team out onto the pitch, standing taller at the sounds of cheering coming from the stands. There was a part of her that would miss this. Playing Quidditch felt almost natural to her and up in the air felt like the one place she could just exist. Even though she had wanted to be a cat animagus and she loved her form, she found it odd that she hadn't been a bird animagus since she loved flying so much.
They met the Hufflepuff team mid-pitch and Rachel stepped forward to shake Maxine's hand. "Good luck," she told her.
"You too," Maxine said, seeming to mean it.
Rachel smiled at her and was glad that there were so many Quidditch players in the DA. It helped when they were all friends with each other.
A minute later the whistle blew and they were up in the air. Rachel went high as she usually did and took in the scene. This was her team and her school. Her friends and her classmates. She needed to talk to Professor Dumbledore soon. The longer this went on, the more tempted the Dark Lord was going to be to come here. Even if Professor Dumbledore wouldn't listen to anything else, he had to want to keep the school safe.
She watched for a moment. Harper took the Quaffle from Lesley and passed to Martin. Thirty seconds later they were intercepted by Zacharias and Eurig, but Martin did a textbook backhand pass to Draco. Draco dodged a Bludger sent by Anthony and scored while Stephen moved to take control of the Bludger. She had a good team. She was proud of them and she was glad that she'd been given the opportunity to captain the team even though she'd been uncertain about her leadership abilities at first.
Trusting that her team had the rest of the game taken care of, Rachel turned and began to search. It was a comfortable day, not warm yet, but she could feel the sun kissing her skin. This would be her last Quidditch game and while there was a certain melancholy to it, she was also determined to do it right.
She kept half an ear on the commentator so that she knew the score but otherwise ignored most of what was around her. It was just her, her broom, the air, and somewhere out there, the Snitch. She kept a casual eye out for Felix, but she wasn't too concerned there either. He'd only caught the Snitch once in his time as Hufflepuff's Seeker and that had been this year against Shoma, who was new to the position.
It felt good to fly and Rachel wondered if in another lifetime she should have looked into broom racing. She knew it was a sport as it was mentioned in the sports section of the Daily Prophet, even if it didn't have the same following that Quidditch did. Rachel found that the closer she got to dying, the more she imagined what she might have done in another life. She weighed those things against her life, but while some of them seemed like things she would be interested in doing, mostly she found that she had done the important things in her life and that was fine with her.
Nodding to herself, Rachel continued her search pattern as she heard the commentator announce that the score was now 90 to 30 in Slytherin's favor. That took care of the Quidditch Cup then, which just left her to win the game. She felt quietly proud that Slytherin had taken the Quidditch Cup each year she'd been playing on the team - except for fourth year when there had been no official cup, but they'd won all those games, so she felt it counted.
Finally she saw the glinting of the Snitch. Felix was closer so she carefully made it look like she was switching to a different search pattern while still keeping her eye on where the Snitch was going. It was moving closer to Felix, but he was still oblivious. She waited as long as she could before she took off, leaning forward into the wind as she flew. Felix joined her almost immediately - all the Seekers had learned it paid to watch Rachel and that she never faked anyone out.
The Snitch dropped and they dove in tandem, Rachel pushing her broom as far as she dared and keeping her grip as tight as her hands would let her. The Snitch leveled and Rachel reached out and grabbed it, bringing her hand back just in time for Felix to slam into her sideways. Acting instinctively, she leaned down against her broom and ignored the pain in her arm. Not spinning out was more important than being in pain. She managed to divert her broom into a wide arc instead of a spin and slowed down enough to land. Her heart was beating in her throat and she felt a sharp pain in her forearm and elbow.
"What the hell!?" Draco shouted as he landed two feet away from Felix. "You just slammed our Seeker!"
"It was an accident," Felix said quickly.
"Not an accident, you did that on purpose!" Scarlett shouted as she also landed.
"I didn't!" he protested.
Madam Hooch landed nearby. "What do you call that, Mr. Summerby? The game was over."
"I didn't do it on purpose. Tell them, Rachel."
Both teams had gathered now and they all looked at Rachel.
Rachel cradled her arm as she tried to figure out what she was supposed to say. "I don't know. I wasn't looking at Felix when it happened," she finally said, feeling she couldn't condemn Felix without being sure, but she also wasn't convinced it had been an accident either.
"I saw it perfectly clearly, you veered into her," Scarlett insisted.
"I was moving toward the Snitch and she got there first, that's all," Felix pleaded.
"It's fine. Let's drop it," Rachel said. She wanted to be done with this far more than she wanted Felix to be in trouble.
"Are you hurt?" Martin asked, moving to Rachel's side.
Rachel moved her arm and felt a twinge of pain shoot up it. "I don't think it's broken."
"Mr. Summerby, learn to control your broomstick better if you intend to retain your position next year. I will not be so lenient next time you are involved in an accident on the pitch. Miss Snow, may I look at your arm?" Madam Hooch asked, giving Felix a strong look before moving to check on Rachel.
"That's fine," Rachel said. She shivered at Madam Hooch's diagnostic charm despite the fact that she was now warm from flying in the sun for ninety minutes.
"Time to see Madam Pomfrey, I think. It's not broken but something isn't right there," Madam Hooch said.
"Can you take my broom?" Rachel asked Scarlett.
"I've got it. Come to the common room after you're let loose, we should still celebrate," Scarlett said.
Rachel nodded and looked up as students parted to allow Severus to join them.
"How badly are you hurt?" he asked, his wand drawn.
"Not very. I just need Madam Pomfrey to look at my arm," she said.
"I will escort her to the hospital wing," Severus told Madam Hooch. "I am very pleased with the team. You have made your House proud," he said to the larger audience.
Rachel let her shoulders slump as she walked off the pitch with Severus. "Not exactly the way I wanted to end my Quidditch career."
"You still have the option of a Quidditch career later. Was that an accident? I could not tell from where I was sitting," he asked as they walked.
"Don't know, don't care. Felix says it was an accident, Scarlett says she saw him veer into me. I wasn't looking and I'm not going to say anything against him when I don't know for certain."
"If that is what you want, I can respect that, but I'd like to know if you suspect that it was on purpose."
Rachel thought about that for a long time as they walked. "I don't know Felix well at all. I kind of feel that it was on purpose, but maybe that's just because I know it's not something I ever would have done by accident. I have better control of my broom than that, but maybe Felix doesn't. I mean, he's not the world's greatest Quidditch player."
"No, he is not, but I would hope that he would have better broom control than he just displayed. But I am also biased as I do not like you being injured," Severus said.
She shrugged and frowned as that sent a twinge of pain up her arm. "Let's just let it be. I don't feel like Felix is a threat to me. And I know I'm better with a wand than him."
"Sometimes it is not about who is the most skilled with a wand. The element of surprise and other tactics can heavily influence an attack or a battle. But I will agree that I don't assess Felix as a threat, but I have also been wrong about these things before."
She stopped herself from shrugging again. "I'm with my friends the vast majority of the time. I have multiple ways of asking for help if I need it. After some training from Kingsley and Tonks I feel like I'm very aware if someone might be following me. I have eight weeks left at Hogwarts. I'm aware that there are probably threats that we're not seeing, but I can't think of a reason that the Dark Lord would move them from watching to acting against me at this point."
Severus was quiet for a moment as they went up the steps. "Your reasoning is sound. Stay on guard anyway."
"I will," she promised. She was always on guard.
Sunday morning after breakfast found Rachel in Professor McGonagall's classroom practicing changing back and forth into her form. She was half tempted to ask Severus if she could visit Headquarters to show off her form to Sirius and Remus, but she didn't want to put him in a position to have to say no. She'd simply have to show them at some point before the battle, she knew they'd both be pleased with her.
She tentatively moved her arm as she settled in on the cushion, but it felt alright. Madam Pomfrey had fixed her right up but had told her to be gentle with her arm for a day or two while it finished healing. She wasn't sure if turning back and forth into an animal counted as being gentle, but turning into her form had never hurt or been anything more than mildly uncomfortable. If it started to hurt, she would stop.
Once again she focused on trying to push thoughts of the war from her mind. She'd read the paper this morning as she usually did. Six dead in Cambridge - two muggleborns and their spouses and children. Rachel supposed that at this point the only muggleborns left in Britain were those who had decided not to flee for one reason or another. She was torn on whether or not she understood that.
On one hand, if someone wanted to kill you, the sensible thing to do was to get as far away from them as possible. On the other, she was at the top of the Dark Lord's list of people to kill, along with Severus and Professor Dumbledore, and they weren't going anywhere. It was a little hypocritical to judge people for not fleeing, but she still wished they would rather than stay and get killed.
She wondered if someone out there was keeping track of the war casualties. Knowing the number of people killed and the circumstances wouldn't really change anything, but she still wondered. It didn't really make the war worse or better if a certain number of people had died, but maybe if someone was putting together how a lot of people had died, they could come up with ideas to prevent more of those same types of deaths. Like if a certain ward was failing, or people were being killed in certain areas, or something that tied things together so it didn't seem like the endless random death reports in the newspaper.
It seemed likely that the MLE had already thought of that and was doing something about it, but sometimes she'd discovered that the things that were obvious to muggles weren't so obvious to magical people, and vice versa. She'd never heard of statistics being used in the magical world, but weren't governments all about statistics? In any case, it was a problem she wasn't in a position to solve. She already had more problems than she could solve without trying to take on new ones.
Rachel refocused her mind again. This had been more and more of a problem lately. She needed to stop letting her mind wander, especially since it always wandered back to the Dark Lord and the war. She had forced herself to stick to a regimented checking of the Dark Lord's state of being, because left to her own devices she anxiously checked on him frequently. Now she checked once in the morning, once at lunch, and once before she went to bed. She was writing down her observations every time in hopes that some sort of pattern would emerge that would tell them what the Dark Lord was doing or planning.
Exhaling she brought herself back to her own mind, grasped her magic, and focused on climbing into her form. She thought it was odd that the uncomfortable part of changing into an animal wasn't that she was losing more than ninety percent of her body mass, or that her spine and limbs were rearranging themselves, it was that she was growing fur and whiskers. The others sounded much more painful, but she never noticed them physically at all.
It was almost a relief to be in her cat form. Things felt simpler there. She didn't feel as anxious. Her senses overwhelmed most of her mind so she was more focused on what she could smell and what she could see rather than thinking about what might happen. She could see a real drawback of her form being her not wanting to leave. Life was much simpler as a cat.
She sniffed around the room. Millie was currently in her capybara form and was taking a walk around the classroom. Adjusting to walking on four legs was more complicated than it seemed. Rachel had assumed since everyone knew how to crawl, walking on four legs would be simple, or at least instinctual. But it took her a bit to get used to leading with her front paws and then switching off so she was at a smooth gait instead of moving just a bit at a time. She still hadn't figured out what to do with her tail so she mostly just left it to do whatever it wanted to do, which apparently was stick straight up or hang down behind her.
A new scent caught her attention and Rachel turned around looking for it. It took a moment to make sense of what she was seeing because she was looking up at pretty much everything. There was what looked like a small white and black goat nearby. A quick look showed that Neville was still sitting on his cushion, so that must be Hermione. Small, of course, was relative. She still towered above Rachel's form.
Millie trotted over to check Hermione out and sort of grunted at her. Hermione bleated back.
Rachel went back to her cushion and focused on returning to her human form.
"Well done, Miss Granger. Try coming back now," Professor McGonagall was saying.
Rachel moved so that she was sitting down properly, she seemed to always come back with her back legs hunched up and her arms tucked down. Eventually she wanted to learn to go back and forth while standing like Sirius did.
Millie changed back next and stood up. "You're adorable. What type of goat are you?"
Hermione managed to change back as well, winding up kneeling on the ground. "A pygmy goat, actually. They were bred into a single species here in the UK. Female goats are called does, or sometimes nannies. My form is fairly hardy, though pygmy goats are used for companions and show animals rather than farm animals. They're thought to be strong, determined, to have great endurance, and known to be a bit stubborn, which I suppose suits me fairly well."
"I think it's a good fit for you, congratulations. How does your form feel?" Theo asked.
"Good, actually. I keep having the urge to gallop and trot, which I didn't expect. You don't have the urge to eat any of us, do you? It seems like you might be the only big carnivore among us," Hermione said.
"No, I don't feel the urge to eat or hunt any of you. Even in my form I clearly recognize all of you. I do feel the urge to go running in the woods though," Theo admitted.
"I'm certain I do not have to tell you not to run in the Forbidden Forest," Professor McGongall said.
"You don't, I know exactly how well my form would fare against an acromantula," Theo agreed.
"And the centaurs use the woods to hunt. I suspect they would be excited for the chance to gain a wolf pelt and they would not recognize you as a student," Professor McGonagall added.
"I'm not planning on changing into my form at Hogwarts outside of this classroom," he assured her.
"How did you get to your form?" Neville asked.
"It's a little silly, but I was reaching for it and I sort of fell into it. I'd like it to be more controlled than that, honestly," Hermione said as she resettled onto her cushion. "Why is it different for everyone?"
"Every individual has a unique mind. While I know that there are some animaguses who use the same pathway, as I described, using a hook is a frequent one and is the one I use myself, but your connection to your form and how you view your own body and mind are very singular. I have no doubt that you will find a path forward, Mr. Longbottom. Do not fret, you still have time."
"We still have eight weeks, that's plenty of time," Millie told Neville.
Neville looked a little worried, but he nodded.
"Let's resume. I know it's tempting to stay in your forms once you are there, but your focus should be on practicing back and forth," Professor McGonagall redirected them.
Rachel closed her eyes again and focused. Now that she'd been a cat recently it was easier to go back. She thought of her dad suddenly turning into a giant stag and smiled to herself. She wished he could see her form. She'd have to tell him all about it.
She jolted slightly as she realized where she was. It felt a little strange coming back to this nebulous place at the edge of her mind after what seemed like a long time but was really not that long at all in the grand scheme of things. The Dark Lord was walking towards her with a confident stride and Rachel quickly rehearsed what she was going to say to him.
"Do not speak," he said when he arrived.
She nodded once. She was willing to let him go first.
"I have decided to give you one more chance. You are unique and I believe we can further each other's goals. I can teach you things you haven't dared to dream about. I can offer you true freedom. Are you familiar with the phrase 'the carrot and the stick'?" he asked.
"For a donkey. You dangle the carrot to get the donkey to move, but hit it with a stick if it refuses," Rachel said, though she didn't really understand why people wanted to use donkeys for anything. Wasn't that what horses were for?
"Precisely. Your freedom and my tutelage are the carrot. Now for the stick. You and everyone you care about will be dead before the summer is out if you refuse this offer."
Rachel pretended to consider her options, but she already knew the answer. This was a test to see if she would lie to him. He would never believe that she would truly join him and he would never believe that Professor Dumbledore and Severus had sent her as a spy. If she went to the Dark Lord she would just wind up being held captive. "I can't join you. I don't believe that what you're doing is right. I have a counter offer. I want to fulfill the prophecy. I want to duel you to the death."
"Dumbledore has convinced you to give up your life then, for the 'greater good'. Do you value yourself so little?" he asked, his gaze fixed on her.
"Professor Dumbledore believes I can defeat you," she said, trying to keep this conversation away from what had happened last time she'd told the Dark Lord she was willing to die.
"No, he does not. And I know you are not foolish enough to believe that he does. Why would you sacrifice yourself for him? Does he hold so much sway over you? Have you not been listening to what I have told you about him?" he pressed.
"If not a duel, then a battle." Severus had told her that the Dark Lord would find that more believable, but to start with the duel anyway, so that it seemed like the battle was her second choice. "You bring your Death Eaters, I'll bring the Order."
"I'll admit to being disappointed. I thought you were more intelligent than this. The die is cast. I will see you soon. It would be wise to say your goodbyes and take care of any unfinished business you have." The Dark Lord disappeared.
Rachel had a moment to feel frustrated before she woke up shivering. Soon. What did the Dark Lord mean by soon? Soon felt like it could mean anything from tomorrow night to into the summer. She debated whether she needed to go wake Severus but decided that the Dark Lord was not going to show up tonight. He could read her account in the morning.
She retrieved everything she needed and began to write out the conversation in her two-way book, trying to keep as much of the original wording of what the Dark Lord said as possible. She hesitated a moment when she reached the end and then wrote something else.
'Professor Dumbledore, I'd like to speak with you about the future of the war and my role in it at your earliest convenience.'
It felt a little demanding, but she felt it was important that they had a new plan. Maybe she needed to leave Hogwarts. Maybe she should be going somewhere specific so that the Dark Lord could find her. She wasn't sure what their next step was now and she needed to know.
She cast a warming charm on her blankets and considered going back to sleep before she decided she was far too awake at the moment to even try. She pulled her journals out of her bedside table drawer and began to flip through the pages. It was a little strange to see her own handwriting in the earlier entries. She found lists of things that she wanted to do, letters to her parents, scribblings about what she was anxious about, notes of things that she wanted to remember, and half-started entries of things that Torey had asked her to try writing about.
This was something she didn't want to leave behind. She didn't want anyone reading this and she didn't trust a passphrase lock to keep out someone skilled who really wanted in. She didn't want Severus to read this. Burning it or otherwise destroying it felt wrong somehow. It was a piece of her, just like the Dark Lord's diary had been a piece of him. Okay, not just like, it wasn't literally a piece of her, but she could see why the Dark Lord had felt his diary was important enough to turn it into a horcrux.
She supposed she could put it in the room of hidden things, but she didn't like the idea of someone finding it, even years and years later. Really she shouldn't have kept a journal at all, but at the time she had started she hadn't been planning on dying, and afterward she hadn't thought about the consequences. She could ask Severus for a better locking charm, or try to research one in the library. There had to be other people who wanted to keep the contents of their books a secret.
Deciding that she would do a little research before she made a final decision, Rachel opened it up to where she'd left off most recently and began to write. There were no more lists of things she wanted to do, the time for that had passed. Now it was just reminders to herself that she was prepared for this, that she was doing the right thing, and that they could somehow make this work even if she hadn't been successful in luring the Dark Lord.
Rachel went about her day on Tuesday with the sense of the Dark Lord looming over her. She assumed by now that both Severus and Professor Dumbledore would have seen her message. Given that they hadn't immediately made plans to get her out of Hogwarts, it seemed they weren't as worried about it as she was. They seemed fairly confident in the belief that the Dark Lord wasn't coming to Hogwarts, but at this point Rachel couldn't see why the Dark Lord wouldn't come to Hogwarts.
There were the wards, of course, but the Dark Lord had gotten through wards before. She supposed that the big problem for the Dark Lord was that with Hogwarts floos open they could quickly receive a lot of support from the MLE and from the Order while the students were evacuated. Could the combined MLE and Order outnumber the Death Eaters? Rachel wasn't certain - no one had given her information about how many people there were on either side of this.
The note summoning her to Professor Dumbledore's office arrived at lunch and Rachel quickly pocketed it. He wanted her at one o'clock, which was during her Defense class, but she wasn't worried about missing a review session in Defense.
"Everything alright?" Theo asked, his gaze following the note to her pocket.
"I asked to speak with Professor Dumbledore and he's made time for me today," she said, since that had the benefit of being true. If she was leaving, she would insist that she be allowed to stay long enough to say goodbye to her friends first.
Millie, Theo, and Draco all looked at her with a somber understanding that it was about war stuff and that she couldn't say more.
Rachel resumed eating her lunch and checked on the Dark Lord. He was thoughtful. Focused. Planning, maybe. She didn't feel any precursors to action, which suggested to her that soon didn't mean tonight or maybe not even this week. She was torn between wanting the battle to be further away because she didn't know if she was ready and wanting it to be sooner so she wouldn't have to think about it so much.
On one hand, she didn't see how she could become more prepared than she already was. On the other, the idea of going out onto a battlefield with the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters was a daunting prospect. The worst case scenario wasn't her dying, that was more the most likely outcome. The worst case scenario was everyone else dying and her getting captured and kept alive so that the Dark Lord would live forever.
After lunch she walked with her friends up the staircase, but diverted her path onto the second floor instead of continuing up the stairs with them to the third. She found herself in front of the gargoyle five minutes later and watched it for a moment. "Chocolate Nibbles," she said, finding it interesting that Professor Dumbledore enjoyed muggle sweets as well as magical ones. The gargoyle stepped aside and Rachel rode the staircase and found Professor Dumbledore's office open.
"Thank you for being willing to see me so soon," she told him from the doorway.
Professor Dumbledore looked up from what he was working on at his desk. "Of course, Rachel. Please come in. I will always make time for you. Would you like some tea?"
"No, thank you," she said, stopping by Fawkes' perch to hold a hand up to him. The phoenix moved closer and she gently rubbed along his neck. Fawkes trilled, seeming to enjoy himself and Rachel found that while she wished she'd had a pet of her own, she was glad that she'd gotten the opportunity to know so many people's pets.
"It's rare that Fawkes allows someone to touch him without my command," Professor Dumbledore said as he watched her.
Rachel would have thought it was odd that Professor Dumbledore was commanding his phoenix to let people touch him, but she knew that sometimes he needed to rely on Fawkes' special transportation abilities. "He's a lovely phoenix," she said, leaving the perch and coming to sit in front of Professor Dumbledore's desk.
"He is at that. How are you faring, Rachel?"
"Well enough. And you?" she asked, erring on the side of politeness.
"I am not quite the man I was even a decade ago, or even a year ago. War has a way of making a person weary with age." Professor Dumbledore bowed his head briefly. "I trust you wish to speak of your conversation with Voldemort."
Rachel nodded. "I'm sorry it didn't go how we wanted to go. I'm not sure what else I could have done."
"What you did was exactly right. As you wrote down, he would not have believed you were willing to join him, no matter his insistence in offering. You did well to avoid that trap."
"Why does he keep offering that? I mean, I don't think he'll be back, not after how he ended that conversation, but I don't understand why he acts like he wants me to join him," Rachel asked.
Professor Dumbledore stroked his beard for a moment. "I believe that he recognizes that you joining him would be his best case scenario. If neither of you are dead, then the potential threat to his life is gone and he can rule in perpetuity. However, at the same time, he cannot trust you. He would never believe that you would go to him with the intention of staying by his side. While he is confident that he will win the prophesied fight against you, he also recognizes that he loses the larger protection that the prophecy offers. This is why I believe he will wish for control over the Ministry before he attempts to battle you."
It seemed like Professor Dumbledore had the same understanding of the protections of the prophecy that she did, even though Severus did not believe she couldn't die from something other than the Dark Lord. "In that case, shouldn't he be delaying the fight against me?"
"Yes, and we have seen that he's doing so. He avoided you after you attempted to lure him to fulfill the prophecy, and then made one last ditch effort to circumvent the prophecy last night. Even though Voldemort has told you to expect him soon, I believe he revealed his true timeline by telling you that you would be dead before summer is out. He wants control of the Ministry before he battles you."
"In that case, shouldn't we push him into the battle before he has control of the Ministry? Wouldn't that be better? Wouldn't that save lives?" she asked. She expected that the Dark Lord actually taking control over the Ministry would be much bloodier than the attack on the Ministry a year ago.
"I think we have been shown that he will not allow us to lure him to a specific location. That will change the course of our intended battle," he began.
"I think we can still choose the battlefield. We know he can find me, just like I can find him. If I move from Hogwarts, he should come look. Also, if this stretches into summer, I'm not sure Severus and I should go home. I don't want him to burn down Fordingbridge looking for me."
Professor Dumbledore inclined his head. "It may be wise to keep you at Hogwarts after the end of the school year. We may be able to stage the battle here in that case. I suspect if you were to be found outside of the wards he would expect it to be a trap and would send his Death Eaters and not attend himself."
"How sure are you that I'm not putting students in danger just by being here right now?" she asked, getting to her main point.
"As with all things in life, nothing is certain. However, I do not expect Voldemort to attack the school in the next seven weeks. If he does, we can evacuate the school. I believe it would be a much more dangerous task to attempt to move you through Britain and if you leave Britain entirely we will likely have some difficulties returning. For the time being, I believe Hogwarts is the safest place for you and that you are not endangering anyone by being here."
Rachel wasn't entirely sure she agreed, but she could see that it would be dangerous for her to move around right now and that she might help the Dark Lord triangulate Headquarters if she tried to take refuge there. "What is the plan then?"
"We keep roughly the same plan as before, though this time we wait for Voldemort to come to us. The Order and the MLE are prepared to be summoned at a moment's notice and they all understand the stakes of this battle. Severus and I will protect you, we will have people tasked with killing the snake, and the rest of the group will keep the Death Eaters away from us." Professor Dumbledore nodded again, apparently satisfied with this plan.
"And in the meantime he kills people with impunity."
"Yes. I know it is frustrating, but going to him now is not the right answer. We cannot rush into this, nor can we be goaded into this. We must approach this battle with a level head and with all things in place. Each time we try this will grow more difficult. The best chance we have is to win the first time."
She understood that, she really did. It was just hard to weigh that against all of the images she had of people being killed and the steady stream of deaths being reported in the Daily Prophet. "What do I do if the Dark Lord talks to me again?"
"Same as you have been doing. Gather information and attempt to lure him to a battlefield of our choosing. How are you managing? I understand that the situation with your connection is far from ideal."
Rachel sighed. "We're still trying to close my connection, but we haven't made any progress. My manifestation…I don't know. I don't know. I'm trying."
"I know you are putting forth your best effort. Mind magic is not as straightforward as we pretend when teaching it. The mind, overall, is still one of the great mysteries of our age. Our interface with it is much like our interface when Looking through space. We are projecting images and textures and sounds so that we can interact and interpret, but we are not truly looking at our minds as they are beyond our fathoming."
"I think I understand that. What I'm seeing in my mind isn't real, it's…it's a shortcut. My manifestation isn't really a younger version of me, that's just how my mind is interpreting whatever is there. Right?"
"Yes, exactly. The part of your mind that is protecting you from your connection has been personified so that you can interact with it," he said. "Just as your connection is not truly a hole into the outside of your mind, that is also an interpretation so you can understand it," he said, sounding very much like a professor.
"Why did my manifestation have to take that form then? Wouldn't it be better for my mind if my manifestation was something that I could work with?" she asked, trying not to sound plaintive.
"For the most part, when people create a manifestation, they choose the form of someone who they believe will protect them. Often it's a protective figure in their lives, or someone they view is being all powerful. I think it's clear that your manifestation was formed when you were a young child. You had no such protective figure in your life. The only person you could trust to protect you was you. I do not know anyone else whose mental architecture and manifestation was formed at such a young age, so I cannot say how common such a result would be, only that it makes sense for the situation you were in."
"The Dark Lord said his manifestation is a younger form of himself as well," Rachel pointed out.
"So he did, which may also make sense. While we do not know how old Voldemort was when his mental architecture and manifestation formed, but I think we know that the only person that he trusted to protect him was himself."
"Do you think my mental architecture was formed because of my connection, the same way that I'm a Parselmouth?" she asked, hoping that wasn't the case.
"I believe your mental architecture and your manifestation formed to protect you from your connection and to keep your mind sacrosanct. Your young mind recognized that something was there that was foreign and acted to allow you to develop without the influence of your connection. It's possible by doing this that your manifestation kept you from receiving visions and sensations from Voldemort while you were a young child," he explained, resettling his hands. "Your manifestation is not your enemy, no matter how difficult you find her to work with. Her job is to protect your mind. That makes your task to prove yourself trustworthy to your manifestation."
"How do I do that?" she asked, feeling doubtful.
"Continue to sit with her. Talk to her about what is happening. Tell her what you want and why you believe that is best for your mind. She may not be able to speak to you, but she does understand you."
She restrained herself from sighing. She worked on this every Sunday night with Severus but she still hated it. She hated going in there and seeing her manifestation. She hated the feelings that boiled up while she did so. And she knew that part of the problem was that her manifestation could feel that hatred. She needed to stop herself from feeling that and she didn't know how. "I want him out of my head."
"I know. And that day will come soon, one way or the other. That much we can be certain of. Is there anything I can do to help you, Rachel? Other concerns that you have?" he asked.
Rachel sat and thought about that for a moment. "Do you know how to lock a book so that no one else can get in it? I have a passphrase on some of my books, but that doesn't feel secure enough."
"There are two spells I can teach you that should suffice," Professor Dumbledore said, pulling out his wand. He conjured a small book.
Rachel leaned forward, eager to learn something that didn't have to do with the Dark Lord and her connection.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Torey said, smiling slightly as she watched Rachel.
Rachel pressed her lips together as she thought about whether or not she really wanted to do this. What she wanted was to say goodbye, but she knew Torey wouldn't take that well and then they'd have the whole 'you're possibly not going to die' conversation all over again. She had written Torey a letter and she was certain Severus would deliver it to her eventually. That would have to do.
"You seem to be having some trouble finding what you want to say, is that right?" Torey asked.
"I just don't know if it's worth trying to deal with," Rachel said honestly. If she was dying sometime in the next month or two, then what was the point in trying to fix things?
"What would the drawbacks be?"
"Mostly just being uncomfortable and feeling things I don't want to feel," she admitted.
"And what might the advantages to trying to deal with this problem be?" Torey prompted.
Rachel sighed. "Maybe I'd be able to close my connection if I could figure this out."
"That seems like a very big advantage. In the past you've told me that's something you want to have happen."
Truthfully, Rachel knew she should have gone to Torey with this problem a long time ago. "I…I don't like what it makes me feel. I don't like what it says about me."
"Your connection?"
"My manifestation. My manifestation is stopping me from closing my connection to the Dark Lord. I can't move her. I can't reason with her. I can't get anywhere near her without her freaking out and kicking me out of my mind."
Torey nodded slowly. "What do you think your manifestation says about you that you don't like?"
Rachel shifted on the sofa and wondered if she wasn't getting too old to see a children's therapist. She remembered back to when she was first seeing Torey and how they'd played games and drew pictures, and Rachel couldn't understand at all what the point of it was, but what Torey had been doing was trying to make herself into a trustworthy adult that Rachel could feel safe talking to. And it had worked. Torey even knew some things about her that Severus didn't know.
"Rachel?"
"I don't like talking about my relatives. They're dead now."
"They may be dead, but that doesn't change what happened in the past and its effect on you. You're allowed to talk about your relatives. You're not speaking ill of the dead," Torey reassured her.
The thought hadn't even crossed Rachel's mind, but she supposed it should have. "What do you think happened to them after they died? Do you think they went to the same place my parents did? Do you think they see my parents?"
"I don't know. I don't know what happens to people after they die. What do you believe?"
Rachel knew pretty well what she believed, but she also knew that she had no desire to see her aunt and uncle in the afterlife. Well, the afterlife had to be a pretty big place. Hopefully she'd be able to avoid them. "It doesn't matter. My manifestation. You haven't seen my manifestation."
"I haven't. Would you like to talk about her?" Torey asked.
Rachel didn't want to talk about her, but she didn't see any other way forward in this. What she was doing now wasn't working. "My manifestation is a version of me at about seven or eight years old. She doesn't seem to grow with me, she's looked about the same ever since Severus and I first went into my mind about a year and a half ago"
"Mostly the form a manifestation takes doesn't change and grow with you, it's something you have to change within your mind if you wish to. What do you think your manifestation says about you that you don't like?"
She'd been hoping that Torey would drop that question. Rachel looked down at her lap as she tried to find the right words for this. "I think about who I was at that age," she finally managed to say.
"Who were you?" Torey pushed.
"In some ways, not that different from how I am now. In some ways, it's like I'm a completely different person. I thought I understood things. I thought I knew how the world worked. But when I look back…"
"The information you had was limited, but you had made sense of the rules and forces that governed your life at the time."
Rachel supposed that was a good way of putting it. "I didn't know what my aunt and uncle were doing was wrong. I understood that it had to be kept hidden, that no one could know, but I thought that was because I was bad. I didn't know that the men at the hotel-" Rachel cut herself off as she felt tears well up. "I just didn't know that wasn't something that was supposed to be happening. Like I look back at it now, and it's awful. How could someone do that to a kid? I was just a kid. But at the time, I just thought it was somewhere that people took their kids to make money."
"You were just a kid," Torey affirmed. "You weren't in control of what was happening to you. No one had given you the tools to know that what was happening to you was wrong or shouldn't happen. You thought you were bad because your relatives told you were bad. None of it was your fault and none of it says something about you as a person. You were a vulnerable child. Everyone is vulnerable as a child. Everyone relies on what the adults around them are saying and doing. Nothing about what happened there says anything about who you are as a person. Your experiences are part of you, I'm not trying to say that they're not. But who you are as a person is much more than that."
She wiped at her eyes and nose. This was why she hated talking about this stuff. "But I see my manifestation and I just feel anger and hate. I hate her."
"Do you understand why? We've talked about this a little before."
"Because seeing her is like being back there. It's like she's not letting me forget."
"Do you feel that you would have forgotten what happened in your childhood without her?" Torey asked, her eyebrows raising slightly.
"No. I know I won't ever forget. But usually, unless I've just had a nightmare, it's not so immediate. It's not so visceral. I see my manifestation, and it's like I can feel that fear creeping into me. I feel like I'm waiting for my uncle to come around the corner and grab me." Rachel exhaled unsteadily.
"That's a fairly common reaction to seeing something that reminds you of a trauma. A lot of people who have experienced trauma will have some sort of emotional or physiological reaction to sensing something that reminds them of the trauma they've experienced, it's called a trigger. It's not surprising that you're experiencing anxiety and thoughts that you would have had during the traumatic experience when faced with something like that."
Rachel flexed her hands into fists and then released them. "Shouldn't I hate my relatives instead of my manifestation?"
"Do you hate your relatives?" Torey asked.
She supposed she should have expected that question. "I should, but hatred isn't what I feel for them. I suppose if I was in the same room as them, I'd feel fear. But I haven't seen them in nearly seven years. I don't understand them at all. I know now that my aunt hated me because she was jealous of my mom. I know my uncle was just sort of a hateful person all around, his sister was pretty much the same way, so who knows how they grew up. But I don't understand them. I can't imagine ever hitting a kid. I can't imagine ever treating someone the way they treated me. I can't imagine treating anything that way. The idea is just revolting to me. And at the same time, I remember how they treated me and I know that it's true and real. I don't know. I don't hate them. I just don't want them anywhere near me."
Torey nodded. "Do you think hatred is really what you feel for your manifestation, or is something else there? Do you blame her?"
Rachel knew the question that Torey wasn't quite asking was whether she blamed herself. Rachel didn't like the answer to that question. "I know it wasn't my fault. And I know there wasn't anything I could have done to stop it."
"And?" Torey asked when Rachel didn't continue.
"And I feel like I'm hiding part of myself, that everyone will see me and realize that I'm a bad person, and that my relatives were seeing what was really there and I've somehow fooled people into thinking I'm a good person. And if people saw my manifestation, they would understand that. They'd think my aunt and uncle were right." Her eyes were wet again and she wiped them with her sleeve while wishing that she didn't have this reaction to talking about this sort of thing. It was embarrassing, even though Torey had seen her cry plenty of times.
"Is there something specific that makes you feel like you're a bad person, or is it just a feeling that's there?" Torey asked, seeming undisturbed by the turn their conversation had taken.
"I think bad things, sometimes," Rachel admitted.
"Everyone does. Everyone on this planet thinks bad things sometimes. We all have those instincts, but what matters is what we choose to do with them."
"Sometimes I think really bad things," she insisted, feeling that Torey really didn't understand.
"Like what?" Torey asked.
Rachel hesitated, trying to find an example that Torey would understand but without causing Torey to panic or think she was crazy. "I think that things would be easier if some people didn't exist."
"Everyone has that thought sometimes. I don't know anyone who hasn't imagined the world without someone who was causing them problems," Torey said easily.
Rachel bit her lip. "Sometimes I think about just getting away from everyone. Even my friends. Even Severus."
"Also perfectly natural. Everyone is entitled to privacy and alone time and I know you have not had nearly enough opportunities to be allowed to be by yourself. You're allowed to tell people you want to be alone for a while and go somewhere private. There is nothing wrong with that."
Now for the really bad one. "Sometimes I imagine myself dead. Not like, imagining myself in the afterlife with my parents, but just imagining my body dead and what that would feel like."
Torey's mouth flattened ever so slightly for only a brief moment. "When you imagine that, what does it feel like?"
Rachel paused again, uncertain if she should tell the truth or not.
"I'm not going to be upset with you or angry with you."
She looked down at her knees. "It feels right. It feels like something that's going to happen."
"Well, in some respects, you are correct. Eventually everyone dies. That's part of being a living being, we die. Do you feel like you want to die? Like that's what you're aiming for?" Torey asked.
Rachel knew that was a trick question and was certainly a question that would wind up with Severus in here worried about her. "I don't want to die. I'm not trying to die. I know how painful that would be to the people who care about me. I just have those thoughts sometimes, and I know they're bad."
"Those thoughts aren't bad. They just happen to be thoughts that you're having. I think you are under a great deal of stress and that your mind is seeking a way out for you. Death is fairly simple. Once you are dead, all of the responsibility is off of you. You don't have to make decisions and choices. It's understandable why thoughts of death would be appealing. Can you tell me or Severus or Madam Pomfrey if death is something that starts to sound more appealing to you?"
"Yes," Rachel said, knowing that Torey was worried about her committing suicide. Rachel wasn't going to do that. She was just going to fulfill the prophecy.
Torey nodded once. "Rachel, you are not a bad person. You're not carrying around any dark secret that would cause people to turn on you. Your aunt and uncle told you that you were bad to justify their own abominable behavior. Sometimes other people can see us more clearly than we can see ourselves. We've talked before about sometimes what we fear other people believing about us is what we are afraid is true about ourselves. Not everyone you come across is going to like you or approve of you, that's just the way of the world. But I believe that the people in your life care about you and see you. And they do not think you are bad, or they would not make the effort to be in your life."
This really wasn't the direction Rachel had wanted this conversation to go in. She'd just wanted to fix her manifestation. Maybe that wasn't possible. "How do I change how I feel about my manifestation?"
"I think this is a good start. The first step to changing something is to understand the current situation, and then having a clear vision of what you'd like to be the situation. Do you know how you want to feel about your manifestation?"
To be entirely honest, Rachel just wanted her manifestation to go away altogether. She knew that couldn't happen. Her manifestation, whether or not she liked her, was keeping the Dark Lord out of her mind for the most part. She couldn't afford to lose that. "I want to see her and not feel angry."
"We can start with that," Torey agreed. "That's a good starting place."
Severus glanced around the kitchen of Headquarters on Sunday. The mood was subdued. He was aware there had been a battle, including deaths and injuries, but he wasn't sure who was dead yet. Most of the Weasley family was at the kitchen table. George had burn paste covering the lower half of the left side of his face. Cedric, Roland, and Heidi were sitting nearby. Roland's arm was in a sling which suggested he was having bones regrown. Moody was standing near the back of the room, his expression distant and the cup of tea in his hands seemingly forgotten. Lupin was making sure everyone had tea and biscuits. Black was leaning forward to speak quietly with Arthur.
He settled himself opposite the fireplace and well away from Moody. Emmaline entered a few minutes later accompanied by Kingsley and Tonks. Severus felt his shoulder relax slightly. It wasn't that he was close to Kingsley and Tonks, but Rachel was and her friends were and they did not need more people to grieve over right now.
"Things alright at Hogwarts?" Kingsley asked, pitching his voice softly.
"Yes. Thus far I haven't seen any signs of an imminent attack from within the castle. From without may be another story," Severus said.
Kingsley nodded. "For now worry about inside, we're watching things from without."
That much was true. There was only so much Severus could do about the war from within Hogwarts. His priorities were Rachel and his students. The Dark Lord's words to Rachel that she should expect him soon worried him though. "I heard there were casualties?" he asked, keeping his voice too quiet to carry to the table, but Moody looked in their direction.
"Yes, unfortunately. Two of the people we had watching Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley were caught and killed. Fletcher and Diggle," Kingsley said. "The others were wounded in an attack on Linette Thompson's home. The Death Eaters were repelled. We caught one of them, killed another two. Linette and her family are alive. Frightened as hell, but Albus talked her into staying with the Wizengamot. Honestly I'm not sure that was the right call. We lose the Wizengamot now, we lose the Wizengamot in August, I'm not sure that matters enough anymore to risk these people's lives."
Severus pondered that for a moment and decided he disagreed. "Losing the Wizengamot, and then the Ministry, accelerates the course of the war. We may save the lives of the Wizengamot and their families, but we'll lose twice the number we are now in the changeover." What Severus knew that Kingsley didn't was that the end of the war was in sight. If they could keep the Ministry and the MLE and the aurors for long enough to kill the Dark Lord, they might prevent the inevitable bloodshed involved in a regime change.
"Perhaps. Dumbledore wants the Wizengamot to hold out, so I guess that's what they'll do," Kingsley said.
He thought that Albus had enough command of the Wizengamot for that, at least until a big enough attack happened that more people fled and Severus expected that attack to either be on the Ministry or the attack on Rachel and Hogwarts. Those were the only real targets left anymore, except perhaps London and mass killings of muggles and Severus didn't think the Dark Lord was willing to risk exposing the magical world for that.
Albus entered and the room fell quiet. He moved to the fireplace so he was well lit and looked over the room. "A minute of silence, if you would, for those we've lost. Dedalus Diggle and Mundungus Fletcher died in the service of the Order. They died gathering information and watching the enemy. They will not be forgotten." He bowed his head and the rest of the room followed suit.
Severus bowed his head as well, but he was past the point of mourning. He hadn't known Dedalus well, but he knew the man was dedicated and had been since the first war. Mundungus was somewhat less dedicated, but had connections to the underground that were important for the Order. Severus hoped that those skills and contacts were duplicated somewhere else in the Order, but at this point it didn't matter too much. He firmly believed that the end of the war was coming soon - and unfortunately on the Dark Lord's timetable - and they were reaching the limit of what they could do beyond evacuations and responding to attacks regardless.
"Thank you," Albus said, recapturing everyone's attention. "I'll have you all report in a moment, but first I have an update to our general plans. As of this time, we are intending to move the battle we have previously discussed to Hogwarts. I have arranged so that all of you will be given access to the floo in the room behind the Great Hall. The portraits there will inform me of your arrival and I will release the doors to allow you to join the battle.
"Hogwarts? You intend for a battle at Hogwarts?" Arthur asked sharply.
"Not while the students are present," Albus assured him. "We intend for Voldemort to come to Hogwarts in the summer after the fall of the Ministry. This is the best chance we have at controlling the battlefield. You all will receive an alert on your communication jewelry when the time has come. We will assemble in place in teams as we have previously discussed. When we are in place, I will make it appear as though Voldemort has broken through the wards and release certain wards to allow them to enter the grounds. They will be funneled towards us and the battle will proceed as we have planned."
"Why Hogwarts? What's wrong with the other battlefields?" Emmaline asked.
Severus knew the answer to that. Rachel would be there and it would be a much better battlefield than her drawing the Dark Lord to their home in Hampshire and they certainly could not allow Rachel to draw the Dark Lord here in London.
"As of this time we have not been able to guide Voldemort to those locations. Hogwarts allows us control over the environment and allows us to be prepared for an attack at any point in time rather than attempting to lure Voldemort to a separate specified location. We know he wants Hogwarts. He will come there as soon as he has established his base of power in the Ministry," Albus explained.
"How can you be confident he will not come while students are still there?" Molly asked.
"I firmly believe that Voldemort will not attempt to gain Hogwarts while there is unfinished business with the Ministry. He will not be able to hold Hogwarts while the aurors and the MLE are coordinating from a central location. The attack on the Ministry will come first. We also have evacuation plans in place for the students. As soon as the Death Eaters show up we will be moving the students to a safe location," Albus reassured her. Molly did not look particularly reassured.
Severus wasn't certain that he was reassured either and he was slightly aggrieved that Rachel would not be among the students moving to a safe location.
"You've told Bones and Robards we're moving this to Hogwarts?" Kingsley asked.
"They are aware of the change of plans, yes."
Severus saw numerous doubtful expressions around the room. He could understand that. The idea of staging a battle at a school shouldn't sit well with anyone.
"Time frame?" Moody asked.
"If we can hold the Wizengamot through July, then in August. Our sources tell us that Voldemort intends victory by the end of summer," Albus answered, again using information from Rachel.
"What sort of numbers are we looking at?" Roland asked. "How many Death Eaters would show up?"
Severus had a vested interest in the answer to that question as well.
"I believe Kingsley and Remus have coordinated our most recent Death Eater survey," Albus said.
"Counting the three they lost last night, we have eighty four identified Death Eaters on the loose. Our estimates suggest around fifty of those are inner circle. Our estimates also suggest another fifty or sixty unidentified Death Eaters and there is also the possibility that certain Death Eater sympathizers may be called to battle," Kingsley listed.
"We expect to be outnumbered at this battle at least two to one, possibly as high as three to one," Lupin added. "Everyone will be aiming to kill."
Albus nodded, his expression so tight that it was almost rigid. "This is our moment to end the war and to end the threat to our nation. We may be outnumbered, but we are better trained, we have better defenses, and we have better teamwork. We will persevere. We will succeed."
"Keep You-Know-Who off of us and we can manage the Death Eaters," Tonks affirmed, getting nods from around the room.
"I can assure you that Voldemort will be occupied and his attention will not wander from his objective. He is as aware of what is at stake as we are. Are there more questions about this battle or your roles in it?" Albus asked, his eyes combing the room.
Severus would have liked a heads up that the venue of the battle had changed before this meeting, but at least it gave him time to prepare Rachel before the battle itself. He supposed he would have to explain to her that they were staying at Hogwarts this summer by necessity. He wasn't even sure it would be wise to let her visit Headquarters while the Dark Lord was searching for her.
"Let's continue then," he said, when no one raised any questions. "May I have a report on our readiness status and on our evacuation progress?"
Severus leaned against the wall and listened as various members of the Order reported in, but his mind was on Rachel. The final battle would be soon and he needed to prepare himself and make certain that she was prepared as well. He would have to think carefully about what could be taught to her in these next few weeks that might save her life.