Chapter 10 - Darkness Rising
James and the others soon slipped back into life at Hogwarts as though they'd never been away. They attended their classes, ate in the great hall and hung out together in the common room, and when they weren't doing any of this, they were working their way down their 'invisibility cloak wish list'.
They had started in earnest on their 'Marauders' Map' too. Whenever they discovered a new secret passageway or shortcut they'd make a note of it on a map of the castle Peter had sketched out. "We're going to need to enchant it." Sirius said one day, eyeing the masses of dots and scribbles and frowning.
"We should make a password." Peter added. "Then only we can use it."
"You have your moments Pettigrew." Sirius said, sounding genuinely impressed. Peter looked delighted.
As the second term wore on, James had a firmly established favourite and least favourite class.
His favourite was of course flying. He and Sirius spent most of their lessons chasing one another around the trees and castle turrets. The flying instructor had to work to the pace of the slowest student but didn't want to restrict the others either so generally left the stronger flyers to enjoy the exercise.
His least favourite was potions. This was less due to the course material and more the course professor though, it had to be said.
Professor Slughorn spent what James considered a very unnecessary amount of time at the table where he and Sirius worked (or at least tried to work...)
He'd even started inviting them to little lunches and dinners in his office. Apparently a number of other students attended, including Roma Lestrange and Edwin Mulciber of Slytherin, and they would discuss a topic of interest over a hearty meal. James and Sirius had of course declined every single invitation to one of these parties, laughing afterwards at the ludicrous idea of their fellow students actually choosing to spend time with a teacher outside class, but it still didn't stop James feeling irritated by Slughorn's constant attention. The man was like a chocolate frog card enthusiast, insistent that he would have James and Sirius for his collection.
Severus Snape seemed just as unhappy about Slughorn's interest in James as James himself was. He glowered at them from his place at the front of the classroom as they chatted. Snape was, it had to be said, a good potioneer. His concoctions were usually demonstrated to the class as the ideal consistency, colour, strength and anything else the potion was meant to be (that is when Sirius wasn't slipping dung beetles into them). But despite his talents, Slughorn never showed the slightest bit of interest in wanting to get to know him as a person. He seemed to be focused mainly on students with particularly well connected or wealthy families and James supposed that Snape simply had neither.
The four of them had, in James' mind, successfully paid Snape back for his attack on Sirius at the start of term. Actually, James had Slughorn to be grateful to for that. The potions master had brought in a box of toads to extract the slime from to use in a potion to cure ingrown toenails. In doing so, he'd unwittingly handed them their idea on a golden, slimy platter.
James and Sirius, along with an excitable Peter and reluctant Remus, had doubled back to the classroom after dinner under the cloak. They'd successfully unlocked Slughorn's store cupboard, rescued the box of toads and waited outside the Slytherin common room entrance until someone said the password and they snuck in after.
"First year boys." James read the sign on the dormitory door with relish. "This is where the greasy git sleeps. Let's go."
It had been easy enough to identify Snape's bed amongst the others. There was a stack of defence and potions books piled high on his bedside cabinet and James recognised his scrawling, spidery handwriting on his notes.
"This must be him." Sirius said, pulling back the covers and examining the sheets as if looking for grease spots. "Ready?"
James was. He tipped the toads out onto the bedsheets and then he, Sirius and Peter tucked the duvet firmly over them so they wouldn't escape. They knew Snape would have the treat of a lifetime waiting for him when he came up to bed that night and they laughed their way all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.
Again, Professor McGonagall didn't get the joke. She called the whole Gryffindor student body into the common room, determined to root out the guilty party. But though he had to bite his lips to keep himself from laughing, James, Sirius, Peter and Remus all escaped without punishment. Though she clearly suspected them, she couldn't prove anything. No one had seen them go into the Slytherin common room. It could have been anyone with a grudge against Snape or just a wicked sense of humour.
James found that outside their invisibility cloak excursions, the four of them were listening to the wizarding wireless more often now too.
Something seemed to have awakened in them that night before Christmas when they'd heard of the attack on those poor muggles. They were invested now. It felt like they were part of something.
Sirius groaned as the news reporter's voice came on air. "Not another one," he said as the reporter told them all of a family of five muggles in the Cotswolds who had all been found dead as they ate their evening meal.
He'd been doing the crossword, but threw it aside as he glared at the radio. "And what's the motivation? What are they trying to achieve with this barbarism?"
This latest attack, thought to be again perpetrated by what is now being called a 'terrorist organisation' the Knights of Walpurgis, appears to be the latest attempt by the group to advocate for their ideals and values.
The news reporter was saying.
"Their ideals and values." James repeated. He felt slightly sick. "What, murdering innocent people?"
In a letter to the Daily Prophet, a member of the group, Thanos Avery, detailed exactly what the group's manifesto was and how they hoped to achieve it. The letter was not published, but we are told it was long and slightly unstable. Avery's belief is that muggleborns have stolen their magic, that they are a perversion of the magical community, and that wizards were born with a natural 'right to rule'. Being pureblood, to Avery, is precious and to be preserved. These are the wizards and witches who will, under their proposed new regime, rule supreme.
"Avery..." Sirius said, frowning at the radio as if trying to remember something. "Thanos Avery... He was at my parents' New Year's party."
They all stared at him.
"Tall bloke. Black hair. Looked like a vicar." Sirius continued. "Well, not that that narrows it down." He added. "But he was going on there about blood supremacy and right to rule nonsense. He had a little group around him, hanging off his every word. I was going to hex him with a voice-changing jinx." He grinned at James. "Wish I had now."
"I'm glad you didn't." Remus said. "He sounds dangerous."
"He sounds mental." James said. "What's he on about, stealing magic? You can't steal magic. You have it or you don't. And if you don't, it's not like it's your fault. You can just live your life with elec-tricy and motor cars."
"Electricity." Remus corrected. "And I agree. If people could steal magic my mum would have done it ages ago. She's forever complaining how long it takes to do the housework while my dad just waves his wand and does it in half the time."
"He's an idiot." James said confidently. "People won't buy it."
But it turned out that he was quite wrong and people were buying it. Despite Avery's letter not making it into print, some of the Slytherin upper years had managed to get hold of a copy and it was being shared around the common room, read in the library and whispered about in the corridors between lessons, and not all the comments were negative.
One night at dinner, Dumbledore surprised them all by getting to his feet and calling for silence. "I am sorry to interrupt your evening meal." He said, his expression grave. "But it has come to my attention that a certain letter has been working its way around the student body. This letter has been denied print by the Daily Prophet, and is, I think it's fair to say, not something that I would consider appropriate reading material for anyone, especially those still at school."
"Now, I will not ban anyone from doing anything which is not illegal or against any school rules. I am usually an advocate for considering views which do not align with my own, but on this occasion I must implore you to remember that the Knights of Walpurgis have been labelled a 'terrorist organisaiton' by the ministry, and I would advise anyone who reads anything by them to take that with a large helping of salt." He smiled and raised his salt shaker. "And on that note, let us return to our delicious feast."
But despite his attempt at lightheartedness, James could feel the atmosphere in the great hall change. Students up and down the house tables had turned to mutter to each other. Even Gideon and Fabian Prewett were looking uncharacteristically serious.
"What's the matter?" James asked them them curiously.
"Just not like Dumbledore." Fabian said, his eyes on the headmaster as he resumed his meal. "He doesn't often give speeches like that in term time. We were just saying, he must be worried."
And it seemed that Dumbledore wasn't the only one. Professor McGonagall confiscated a copy of Avery's controversial letter as it was being passed around transfiguration one class and gave Mary MacDonald, who'd been reading it at the time, such a severe telling off she reduced her to tears.
"I don't care what Dumbledore says." She said, throwing the thing in the bin. "Anyone else caught reading this utter nonsense will be given detention."
James knew that the students in his house were mainly just curious and he suspected the same went for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw too. But there seemed to be a genuine interest and support for the new views that had made their way into the castle among the students of Slytherin house.
As term progressed, there was a rising number of attacks against muggleborn students, usually targeting pupils in their first or second year.
Poor Alice Bennett of Hufflepuff was attacked by a group of Slytherin upper years as she made her way to the library one day. She'd been alone when they'd set on her, freezing her in place with the petrificus totalus spell before fastening her on the wall with the word 'mudblood' and a grotesque picture of a snake painted above her.
"It's the dark mark." Sirius told James as they walked past the site later where Filch was scrubbing furiously with soap and water. Alice had not returned to lessons for the rest of the day. Her dorm mates had told the boys in herbology that she hadn't said a word to anyone except to say that she wanted to leave Hogwarts right now.
James turned to his friend. "The what?"
"The dark mark." Sirius repeated. "It was in the Prophet the other day. It's the sign the Knights cast into the sky after they've killed."
James turned back to the wall where the drawing still stood out in red, like blood. "That's sick." He said.
Over the next few weeks, there were more and more appearances of the 'dark mark' across the castle. It was painted onto the walls, engraved in textbooks or drawn on chalkboards so often that Dumbledore seemed to decide that again, he needed to speak.
He made the announcement at dinner one night in late February. Though he accepted again that every student had a right to their opinion and beliefs, he was taking a zero tolerance approach to graffiti. He advised all students to be alert and aware and that any student who was found to be engaged in such behaviour was to be reported directly to himself.
"I mean it's patently obvious who's behind it all." Sirius said crossly as they made their way to potions one day.
"Are your Slytherin senses tingling?" Remus asked teasingly.
"Well quite." Sirius said, looking around the dungeons corridor with distaste. "It's all about blood supremacy isn't it? Of course the bleeding Slytherins are behind it all."
"What about your cousins?" James asked him. "Do you think they know anything about any of it?"
"I doubt Andromeda will." Sirius said. "All she seems to care about at the moment are her NEWTs. I wouldn't put it past Narcissa though… she's dating this foul oaf Lucius Malfoy and all she did at Christmas dinner was bore us with what a perfect specimen of pureblood he was. I bet she's all for eradication of muggleborns and her and king Lucius reigning supreme as the perfect pureblood examples. She'll wear a crown and everything."
It seemed however that Sirius might have been onto something. James couldn't help noticing that the Slytherin students were acting differently this term too. They tended to group together more than normal, their heads together in whispered conversation, and once or twice they walked past around a dozen all emerging from a side room together.
"Secret meetings." Sirius said sagely, eyeing them with distaste as they passed a group on their way back from one of their frequent kitchen raids.
"Let's follow them." James said, whipping out the invisibility cloak and throwing it over them all.
They followed the group to the Slytherin common room and slipped through the door after them.
Though they'd been in here before for their mission with Snape and the toads, they'd not really had the chance to look around properly then. The toads had been heavy, after all.
The room was large and, unlike the Gryffindor common room, rectangular. The lighting was dim and green, and the place gave the strangest feeling of being underwater.
The Slytherins who had emerged from the meeting had moved over to the fireplace in the corner of the room. They took their seats on green velvet armchairs, with some of the younger students sitting on the floor around them.
James spotted Snape amongst the group. He was right on the edge of the activity, not quite close enough to warrant a seat on the green hearth rug, but listening intently all the same.
As the boys moved closer, they became able to hear what the blond speaker was saying. "... Must not be discouraged. That old fool Dumbledore thinks he can pretend none of this is happening and that there is no threat, well I say he is blind and he is weak!"
There were cheers and cries of 'hear hear!' from all around. The boy, who James guessed must be Lucius Malfoy, continued. "Dumbledore loves mudbloods but he is blind to the many dangers they possess. He is soft and he is foolish and I, for one, will fight for what's right. And if that is in alignment with the Knights of Walpurgis, well then call me a Knight." He sank back onto the sofa with a satisfied expression on his pale face as the students around applauded him.
James had a few ideas for what he would have liked to have called the boy, none quite so flattering.
"I agree with Lucius." A youth with dark hair and thick eyebrows said. "Rabastan and I were raised by our parents with proper wizarding pride. I find it frankly insulting that we are to be expected to roll over backwards and sacrifice our natural right to lead for the sake of some misguided attempt at equality. Hiring Dumbledore is the biggest mistake this school ever made."
More cheers and applause.
James saw that though Snape was not clapping, he was clearly captivated by the Slytherin upper years' words. Beside him, Mulciber and Nott were expressing their appreciation much more enthusiastically.
As the group eventually disbanded, James and the others moved over to the wall so they would not be bumped into by any of them.
Though James longed to stick out a foot to trip up Snape, he resisted the urge, and the four of them contented themselves with graffitiing the words 'slimy snakes' on the wall by where the little group had been seated instead.
"I hope the message gets through." Sirius said, but James knew it wouldn't really in the long-term. Fear and domination seemed to have more power than reason and sense, at least as far as the Slytherins were concerned.
James tried for the most part to do what Dumbledore had suggested and simply ignore the new culture of pureblood superiority and hatred for muggleborns that had cropped up in the castle like poison ivy over the last few weeks. He focused on his classes (or the ones he enjoyed at least) and put his father's cloak to some more excellent use.
It wasn't until a day in March, not long before his twelfth birthday, that all the nastiness and troubles of the months before reared its ugly head again, this time in a way that James couldn't have ignored even if he'd tried.
The four of them had just returned to the common room after a very enjoyable afternoon down by the lake. The weather had finally caught up with the season and spring was very much in the air as they lounged on the grassy banks and skimmed stones across the surface of the water. As it was a Saturday they hadn't bothered with their school robes and had dressed for the weather instead in muggle T-shirts and shorts. It was a lazy, comfortable sort of day with absolutely nothing to worry or upset them. That is, until they entered the Gryffindor common room.
James knew the moment they walked in that something was wrong. The atmosphere was solemn and grim and over by the window a little group of girls stood huddled. Two had their arms around a third and a forth stood beside them, looking helpless and upset.
James and the others moved quickly over and James recognised, from the shock of red hair, that the girl being comforted by her friends was Lily. She was crying. Her whole body was shaking as she sobbed into Sylvie's shoulder.
"What happened? James asked hoarsely, turning to Mary MacDonald who was the closest to them.
"The Slytherins." She said, stroking Lily's back consolingly. "They cornered her while she and Snape worked in the library."
James felt a hot wave of fury. "What did they do?" He growled.
"They hexed her." Sylvie Smethwyck said and her own blue eyes were full of tears too. "Then they put the full body bind curse on her and then wrote awful things on her arm with one of those horrible blood quills."
James looked at Lily. She too was dressed for the weekend, in a muggle dress of pale blue and her bare arm, he noticed, was bandaged.
"Madam Pomfrey mended it." Sylvie said in answer to James' gaze. "But I don't think it was so much the pain that upset her as what they wrote."
James could only imagine. "That's sick. That's really sick. Who were they?" He demanded, and he was surprised to hear the anger in his words.
"It was that Rodolphus Lestrange." Bessie Bagshot said. "Him and some other horrible boy. They're in with Dumbledore now. So at least that's something."
Though James was glad to hear the perpetrators had been caught, it didn't do much for his anger. "Evans, I'm so sorry." He said to the top of Lily's head. "Those guys are maggots and you're worth twelve of them. When we next see them we'll wring their slimy necks."
"That's sweet." Bessie said, patting Lily on the back and smiling at James, "but I don't think she really wants to hear it from you, if you know what I mean…"
Ah, right, of course. Evans thought he was, what was it she'd called him last week? Oh yeah, a 'pigheaded, arrogant, spoilt, bullying, git-faced toerag'. Or words to that effect.
They decided to leave her friends to it and moved back to their favourite armchair by the fire, James still seething by what he had heard and seen.
"This has to stop." He told his friends firmly. "I hope Dumbledore expels them both."
"What good will that do?" Sirius asked, throwing bits of parchment idly into the fire. "They're even more dangerous out there in the big wide world. That way Malfoy can get his thick git wish and declare himself a knight for real."
"Dumbledore will do his best to stop it." Remus said. "We have to trust him."
Peter appeared to have nothing to say.
While James knew his friends were right, he still couldn't ignore that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that told him he needed to act, and act soon. If Sirius was right and there was a war coming, wouldn't it be better to be prepared? He'd seen with his own eyes that students his own age were supportive of the Knights of Walpurgis' ideals. Didn't there need to be some sort of counter movement? Weren't he and his friends obliged to do something?
But then his friends brought out his birthday cake with a round of 'he's a jolly old warlock' and tossed a handful of brightly wrapped birthday presents into his lap. They'd obviously had another kitchen raid, and the selection was quite delicious. As James tucked into a custard cream and laughed at Sirius' jokes, he felt himself be pulled back into the same sense of comfort and security he'd known all his life. He had his parents, Dumbledore, the ministry and all the teachers around to protect him. It was difficult to imagine there was anything dark or dangerous outside the castle walls when he felt so warm and safe here inside them. Perhaps, just for today, he would enjoy being twelve.
...
A/N: Inspiration for the scene in the Slytherin common room comes from parliamentary debates in the House of Commons. Fellow Brits may relate.