Chapter Nine: The New Order

Moments later, a bustle of sights and sounds thundered around me as I materialized in a vaguely familiar alcove just along the side of the massive King's Cross Station. It was the first time I had been outdoors in weeks, and there was a chill in the air that let me know autumn was on its way. The entire place was thronged with comers and goers, too transfixed by their own affairs to notice a skinny, crestfallen girl appearing out of thin air.

Merging with the crowd, I made my way hastily into the building. I was glad to find that I remembered the route to the wall between platforms 9 and 10 despite having only been at the station once before. As I stared up at the solid brick, I could practically hear my mom's voice dreamily marveling at the sight, nostalgic for the platform that she had traveled to for seven years of her childhood. She'd been so thrilled that I was going to experience Hogwarts, a place she loved and cherished dearly, and my heart ached with the longing to have her with me now, seeing me off to school, regardless of the state of things.

Holding my breath, I darted straight for the wall. The scene around me dissolved, replaced quickly by a subdued version of what I remembered Platform 9 ¾ to have looked like just one year ago. In every direction, kids clung on to their parents, who looked helpless and forlorn as they urged their children to be careful… to keep to themselves… to be brave. And in between the heartbroken families weaved witches and wizards in long, imposing black cloaks with drawn hoods, ripping embraces apart, forcing children onto the train.

"Move along, kid. Time to go," growled one of these men to a shaggy-haired child down the ward. He had his mom's sleeve clutched in his hands. Slimy snot dripped from his nose; his mother's eyes were red and swollen.

"No! Mommy please! Don't make me!" he wailed, voice wavering out of control. The Death Eater grabbed the boy by the waist of his pants and plucked him up off the ground like a cat carrying its kitten by the scruff of the neck. "MOMMY!"

The mother reached for the whimpering boy's hand as the Death Eater carried him to the gleaming Hogwarts Express. "FINIAN!" she screamed, but the man hoisted him onto the train and out of sight, his cries fading behind the doors. The women fell to a heap on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Name!" said someone croakily, and it took me a moment to realize the command had been directed at me. I looked up, finding yet another Death Eater looming over me. I wondered dimly whether being of abnormal height was a requirement for becoming a Death Eater.

His jaw clenched when I didn't immediately answer. "Did I stutter? What is your name, girl? Or should I go ahead and throw you in with the other Mudbloods?" he spat.

My fist instinctively gripped onto my wand and, reminding myself that Snape would be less-than-thrilled if I picked a fight with a Death Eater not thirty minutes after he'd asked me not to, I had to stop myself from jinxing him on the spot. "Pierce. Rowan Pierce," I said through gritted teeth.

The man began to thumb the contents of a small brown booklet. About halfway through he paused. I stood on tiptoe, trying to peek at the pages. It seemed to contain a list of names separated into three columns: 'Name,' 'House', and 'Blood Status.'

He yanked the book away with a snarl, concealing its contents against his chest before I could read past the headlines. "Rowan Pierce? A half-blood father, I see." His lip curled over his teeth as though angered that I was very nearly pure-blood. "Very well, get moving. Train's leaving in ten minutes."

Without another word, I stomped away towards the gleaming train. Though the atmosphere resembled something more appropriate for a funeral… or perhaps a war sendoff… the Hogwarts Express was as massive and magnificent as I remembered, stretching out impossibly far in either direction. The whistle of the engine hollered in the distance as I boarded the scarlet beast.

Nearly every face I passed by was solemn and dreary, a sharp contrast against the excitement and eagerness of last year. "Hey, Rowan," said a voice with a thick Irish brogue as I passed by an open compartment occupied by Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, and two other, younger kids I didn't recognize.

"Seamus," I greeted him with a nod and put up a hand in acknowledgement of Lavender. "Good to see you. Doing alright?"

He shrugged and lowered his voice. "Alright, sure. I'm one of the lucky ones. Dean's gone. Not safe for him here. Though I reckon it won't be safe for any of us, soon. We gotta stick together, you know?"

His slate-colored eyes looked at me meaningfully, and I could sense there was a deeper implication behind his words. I nodded. "Of course. Have you seen Ginny around?"

"Yeah she's around. I think she's two or three doors that way," he pointed to the left, "…with Luna and Neville."

"Thanks, Seamus," I said, then headed in the direction he'd pointed. A Death Eater patrolling the hall gave me a narrowed look and uttered something about finding a seat.

Ginny's cascade of copper hair was instantly recognizable through the window of her compartment. Her back was to the door and she seemed to be engaged in a rather heated conversation, arms flailing unrestrainedly as she ranted at a green-looking Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, who was as bright and pastel as ever. Unable to contain a grin, I knocked on the glass pane, stopping her grandiose arm display at once. When she turned to assess the intruder, I watched her expression transform rapidly from annoyance, to surprise, to overwhelming joy.

"Rowan!" she screeched, slightly muffled from behind the window, and before I knew what was happening the door was slamming to the side. I was practically tackled off my feet by a fierce, air-constricting hug. "Where have you been!? I'm so happy to see you! I've been writing to you but Pigwidgeon kept bringing back the letters and I was absolutely terrified something horrible happened to you!"

"Er… I guess he just couldn't find me. My uncle sent me a threatening letter… so I had to put extra Disillusionment Charms on the house I was staying at…" I said, improvising wildly. It wasn't a total lie. I squeezed her tightly and changed the subject. "Anyway, I'm fine as you can see. But how are you!? And… you know… everyone else? Hear anything?"

Ginny gave a small shush in my ear and ushered me into the compartment. "Hi Neville. Luna," I said, acknowledging the other two occupants as Ginny clicked the door shut. Neville and I were friendly; we'd sat together on occasion and often paired up in Herbology last year, but I didn't know Luna very well. She was an oddly mannered girl, with waist-length dirty blonde hair that drooped around her pale face in messy waves.

"Glad you're here, Rowan," said Neville, scratching at the back of his neck. "Well, maybe not, actually. Under the circumstances and all… but you know… it's good to see you."

I took a seat across from him. "I understand. I'm glad you're back too."

I saw Ginny look around shiftily before drawing the shade over the window and uttering silencing spells to stifle our conversation from eavesdroppers. Luna, meanwhile, was gazing at the thickening clouds in the blue-gray sky outside. "A storm is coming," she said in an airy voice. "Fitting, don't you think?" Then her pretty, silvery eyes drifted to me. "Hello there, Rowan. You're looking a bit undernourished; would you like some Ghoul Dough? It's quite filling, and also makes a wonderful Wrackspurt repellant." She reached into the pocket of her mint green sweater and pulled out palm-sized discs that looked like raw, flattened, unappetizing dough balls.

"Uhm… no thanks, Luna. Nice of you to offer though," I said hesitantly, concentrating hard on keeping an offensive expression from my face. She gave an unperturbed shrug, popped one of the discs into her mouth, and began humming quietly as she gazed back out the window. In the distance, I heard another blare of the train's whistle, which must have been signaling our departure from King's Cross Station because we all lurched forward slightly and the scene outside shifted into a blur of grass and sky.

"So you haven't heard from Harry either, then, Rowan?" Neville asked.

I shook my head. "No. The last I knew they were on the run after Bill's wedding, and Harry was wanted by the Ministry for questioning about Dumbledore's death. Have you heard anything since then?"

Ginny sighed, reclining back against the seat next to me and crossing her arms. "Nothing. I know it's a risk but it would be nice to know that they are alive, at least."

I would have liked to tell them about what I'd overheard at Snape's house – that Voldemort was searching for an extremely powerful wand that he believed could kill Harry… but I could think of no rational excuse as to how I would have come across such intel. Since neither of them were in regular contact with Harry, I supposed that it wouldn't be of any help anyway.

"I think that if You-Know-Who'd managed to kill Harry, it would've been all over the Daily Prophet by now," I said. "It's full of anti-Harry rubbish… the issue would be on our doorsteps within minutes of his death. Sorry! It's morbid, but true." Ginny and Neville looked affronted that I would discuss Harry's death so casually.

"You're probably right… so we know they're alive but that's about the max of it. He's left us nothing. No way to help…" her tone was colored with frustration, "…and have you seen the newest headlines then? Snape's Headmaster now. That's what we were just talking about when you showed up, Rowan… can you believe it!? Murders Dumbledore and then waltzes in the castle months later as though nothing happened… and don't forget cutting off George's ear in the interim!"

"George's ear?" I questioned.

Ginny launched into a lengthy recital about how the Order of the Phoenix, which she described as a secret organization of powerful wizards who have been protecting Harry and leading the charge against Voldemort, used Polyjuice Potion to create seven Harrys so that he could be transported safely from his aunt and uncle's house to the Weasley's. The entire brigade was ambushed by Death Eaters, however, and Snape had been among them. He attempted to curse George; luckily George only lost his ear (though I guessed the spell was missed intentionally, a fact I kept to myself), but Harry's owl, Hedwig, and one of the Order members, were killed in the chaos.

Throughout the recount, Luna continued to watch the clouds, giving an occasional, dreamy "ahh" sound; Neville, meanwhile, had been frowning ever more deeply, and when Ginny had reached the part about Harry's birthday - Rufus Scrimgeour had paid them a visit to distribute the possessions bequeathed to Harry, Ron, and Hermione in Dumbledore's will, though had refused to pass along the sword of Gryffindor to Harry as designated by the will – his expression contorted as though he had ingested something extremely unpleasant.

"That's completely unfair," said Neville. "If Dumbledore wanted Harry to have the sword, then there must be a reason."

"Harry thinks so too. But Scrimgeour claims that the sword belongs to the school," said Ginny.

Sighing, Neville joined Luna in staring out the window, seeming lost in thought as Ginny carried on. "I didn't have much time to talk to Harry about the sword, really. Bill's wedding was the day after Harry's birthday. That was when we got the warning… Kingsley Shacklebolt – one of the Order – sent his Patronus during the reception to tell us that the Ministry had been infiltrated. Death Eaters started showing up out of nowhere… the Order was able to fight them off, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappeared…" Neville had sucked in a breath and turned his attention back to Ginny, eyes wide as he showed every sign of interrupting. "…Mum says Lupin knows where they are… or were staying, anyway, but wouldn't tell us anything more. Reckons it's safer that we don't know anything, with Death Eaters everywhere - what's the matter, Neville?"

"The sword… Scrimgeour said it belongs to the school, right? That must mean it's in the school." He spoke fast, as though anxious to get his thoughts out.

"Right. Harry said it was in Dumbledore's office last year," she said matter-of-factly, not catching up to his point.

"What if the sword is important for defeating You-Know-Who? What if that's why Dumbledore left it to Harry? If it's in the school… a place Harry can't go… well, wouldn't it be the responsibility of Dumbledore's Army to get the sword to Harry?"

"You want to steal the sword of Gryffindor?!" I choked. Neville cast his eyes downward and shrugged awkwardly.

"But Neville… it's Snape's office now. We'll never get near it," said Ginny, but in spite of her words I could see the intrigue brewing in her eyes.

Luna chimed in then, and surprised us all when she said, "I think it's a wonderful idea, Neville." The three of us stared at her, dumbfounded, Neville blushing, until the sound of the door flying open cut off all talk of thievery.

Framed in the threshold was a cloaked man with short black hair, tight eyes, and a poorly shaven beard. He tapped his wand, removing the Imperturbable Spell from the cabin. "Well, well, well… what is going on in here, young Gryffindors? What business would four innocent schoolchildren have with a silencing spell on their train compartment, hmm?"

Ginny and I clenched our teeth while Neville, to my disbelief, stood up and came nose to nose with the man, wand gripped at his thigh. "And what business does a Death Eater have barging into our compartment?" he spat with more defiance than I would have anticipated. "Isn't it enough that we have to see your ugly faces when we get to school?"

The man's nostrils flared in agitation. "Insolent child! Diffindo!" he snarled, dragging the tip of his wand across the middle of the door. A white, burning light glowed along the trail of his wand until the door had been entirely cut through. The top half of the wooden door swayed and then detached, falling with a thud into the hallway.

Ginny's hands gripped the edge of the bench seat, fingers spread like claws. "What was that for!?" she demanded, brow puckered crossly.

The man grinned in a triumphant manner. "There'll be no more secrets among you four. You didn't happen to be chatting about Mr. Harry Potter by chance? I suppose I should be the one to remind you that any unreported knowledge of his whereabouts is a direct violation of Ministry directives."

Ginny sucked in a sharp breath, but Neville shot her a warning look and I cut in. "Noted. But you can keep moving, we have no information for you."

"You're sure of that, are you?"

"We're sure."

With a grunt, he turned his back to us and exited through the half-door. We looked between each other knowingly, and didn't dare speak for a long while, acutely aware that we were being listened to. Finally, Luna broke the silence.

"It's here," she said with a wan smile, pointing towards the continually darkening clouds, just as one drop… then two… then a sudden rush of rain lashed at the windows all at once.

"I'm going to go find Ernie," I said as the gust of wind and rain roared. "Any of you see him around?"

They hadn't, so when I left the compartment, I wandered aimlessly down the corridor, looking for any sign of my Hufflepuff friends and wondering which of them would have returned. Ernie was a pure-blood and Susan, half, so they were most likely on the train. Hannah had never returned last year, after her mother was murdered, and Justin was a Muggle-born, so I doubted I would see them this year.

The halls were mostly bare, with most students hiding away in what they hoped was the safety of the compartments. I noticed that there was no trolley of snacks to be found, either.

"Ay, Pierce?" said a voice that instinctively triggered my insides to pulse with loathing. Gregory Goyle flumped out of a compartment that, like ours, had had its shade drawn. His chunky, scowling face and small eyes gave him the look of a bad-tempered potbellied pig.

I groaned. I'd completely forgotten about Goyle; he seemed too inconsequential to think about, after everything else that happened since that night on the tower.

"I 'ave to admi', I'm shocked ta' see you. Thought for sure you'd be too scared ta' come back this year."

I rolled my eyes. "Scared of what? Surely not you?"

"Oh, righ'. Guess ya wouldn't be, seein' as you're Snape's lil' pet Gryffindor." Goyle stepped so threateningly close to me that I could smell the stink of acid pops on his breath, and jabbed a finger into my chest with a sneer. "But this year's gonna be different."

"Back up," I said scathingly, grabbing his finger and shoving him backward a step, "unless you're looking to lose a few teeth."

This only caused his sneer to darken. "I wouldn't be makin' threats if I was you, Pierce. Even with Snape as 'eadmaster… ya aren't safe anymore. An' do ya know why?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me," I said in a bored voice.

"Cause Snape's not really in charge, is 'e? The Dark Lord is, 'n my dad's one of 'is. So I can do whatever I want, 'n Snape. Can't. Stop me," he growled, each syllable dripping with hostility.

Then, like a key clicking perfectly into a lock, the entire encounter I'd had with Goyle last year snapped into place. That night, Goyle accused me of colluding with Snape because his father had seen us together at the Leaky Cauldron, and Goyle had caught me visiting Snape's office on the regular for extra lessons. At the time, I couldn't fathom what he could have thought we were colluding about. The men Snape met with at the Leaky Cauldron, Goyle Sr. among them, had been fellow Death Eaters, I now realized. And Goyle, knowing about Voldemort's orders for Malfoy to murder Dumbledore, must have thought Snape and I were conspiring to stop the plan.

A flight of anger flicked through my chest, but before I could give a cutting retort, someone spoke up from behind me. "This girl giving you trouble?"

As if I was the one making threats.

The voice belonged to the Death Eater who had invaded our train compartment. I didn't take my glare away from Goyle's pudgy face as he gave a singular laugh and said, "Pierce? Nah, we was jus' giving each other a nice, friendly 'ello. Don't worry, she couldn't give me trouble if she dared ta try."

With another sinister grin, he dropped back into the compartment, leaving me with the Death Eater.

"What business do you have in the hallway? Get back to your compartment," he said.

I inwardly debated whether or not I wanted to argue with this man.

"I was looking for some friends. Or is it against the rules to say hi to your friends now?" I said sharply. Yes, I did want to argue with him. "Oh, right. Death Eaters don't have real friends. Does it make you too sad to have us mingling with one another? I understand, I might get jealous too."

"That's it!" he said in a growl. His face turned white, then red, then an interesting shade of purple, his eye twitching a bit as he worked up how to respond to such a defiant child. "Back to your compartment. NOW!"

The man drew himself up to full height and bodied into me, grabbing me by the fabric of my sleeve and shoving me towards my compartment.

"Hey, watch it!" I yelped, caught off guard. As he plucked me back into the cabin with Ginny, Neville, and Luna, I thrust my elbow into his chest for good measure.

Slamming the half-door shut behind him so hard that the floor shook with the force, he marched off, muttering something extremely nasty about children.

I straightened my ruffled shirt with a huff.

"Err… didn't find Ernie, I take it?" Ginny asked, raising a slightly amused brow.

Plopping back down next to her with a withering glare, I crossed my arms. "Nope. Sure didn't."

It was a few hours until the train finally came to a stop at Hogsmeade station. The remainder of journey had been met with mostly silence and a lousy mood from three of us; Luna, on the other hand, remained in her own blissful world. The rain was pouring harder than ever as we exited the train into the pitch darkness. Though the storm brought with it a gusty chill, I suspected that the frost in the air was caused by something more than a simple September rainfall.

A chorus of chatter had started as we all gazed through the torrent at the beautiful Hogwarts School. Rain drops caught the illumination from the windows, giving the entire castle a glowing, hazy shimmer. And then, I noticed something among the fog. Against the glow of the castle floated amorphous silhouettes, and from the distance I swore I could hear a faint, rattling hiss.

"Dementors," I whispered to Ginny, pointing at the figures she had been squinting at.

"Quiet now!" shouted a loud, commanding voice over the murmurs, and we all relapsed into prickly silence. "Single file, all of you. First years, with the oaf."

It took me a moment to realize he was referring to Hagrid, the school gamekeeper, who stood near the docks looking rather soggy. His long, grizzled mane and tangled beard were weighted down heavily, as though he'd been left to stand in the downpour for ages.

"Don't call him an oaf!" Ginny shot, sending all eyes in her direction.

The Death Eater's nostrils flared angrily. "I'll call him whatever I like, brat," he said, closing the space between them.

Everyone in the vicinity backed off in fear of getting caught in a fight, but I stepped closer, wanting to put myself between them. I opened my mouth to cut back when I felt a huge, warm hand on my shoulder. "S'all righ' you two. Don't want no trouble here, now do we," said Hagrid gruffly, patting my arm so hard that I nearly fell over, though I was sure he intended to give me a gentle tap.

The Death Eater huffed at Ginny, who looked as if she wanted to argue. "Know your place, little girl," he warned, then turned back towards the crowd of students who quickly averted their eyes.

"Now you listen ter me. There's a time an' a place for rebellin' against these bullies, but I want you ter promise me yeh won't go gettin' yerselves inter trouble on my behalf. All righ'? Don't worry, I got some plans fer 'em, myself," he said.

"Back to the docks!" the Death Eater shouted at Hagrid.

Winking at us, Hagrid turned away. "Firs' years, this way!" he said, waving a Quaffle-sized hand at them. Some of the tiny looking kids wore startled, apprehensive expressions at the sight of him, though they all got into line at once. Last year, I'd been among them, traveling to school by boat. This year, as I watched the rattling boats rock and ricochet vigorously against one another, buffeted by the lashing rain, I was thankful to be packed in with the older students as we were filed on to horseless carriages.

"Hello, there," said Luna when we neared the front of the line, gazing at the empty space in front of one of the carriages, and I was certain she'd completely lost it when she put out a hand and began to pat and scratch the air.

"What's she doing?" I whispered through my teeth to Ginny, who shrugged and said "petting the Thestral," as casually as if I'd asked her for the weather forecast.

The four of us were relieved to be shielded from the downpour when it was finally our turn to climb onto a carriage. With a click of the door closing behind us, we instantly began the bumpy, sloshing, stormy ride up the path, to the doors of Hogwarts School.