These were the days of walking on eggshells. She kept expecting Snape to corner her again and read her mind until she snapped and gave up the information he wanted. But after that one night, he ignored her. Perhaps he was too busy modelling Hogwarts after his own image. Perhaps he no longer needed to curry favour with Voldemort, having gotten the position of Headmaster.
Or perhaps, I scared him off.
Or maybe that. Ginny still wasn't exactly sure what Tom had done, but it had been enough to break Snape's assault. It couldn't have been gentle. It was not an unpleasant thought, that Snape might have felt fear.
Yet even though she hardly caught a glimpse of Snape, his lackeys were everywhere. Still they patrolled the hallways. Still they sat in on classes, leaving Sprout so distracted that a Venomous Tentacula lashed out at her. The class was cut short as she went to see madam Pomfrey, the watching Death Eater – Ginny thought his name was Thorfinn Rowle – laughing loudly as she fled the classroom.
The occupation was beginning to seep into the walls itself. People talked more softly as they hurried through the halls, the innumerable eyes of the castle unnerving, its ghosts, portraits and suits of armour no longer benevolent observers. The classmates, especially those with a green tie, no longer to be trusted. News from the outside was scarce and the news on the inside was terrifying.
She doubted today would be better. From what she'd gathered, theirs would be the first class taught by Augustus Rookwood and it left them all huddled together and visibly nervous in the hallway. Colin in particular looked rather green and Ginny could hardly fault him for it. In all likelihood, Rookwood would be aware of his heritage. Nor did she think it was a coincidence that her class would be his first.
The door swung open, operated by an invisible hand.
"You may come in," Rookwood's cultured voice called out.
The classroom could not have been more different compared to Snape's term. No more curtains or dark objects. Instead, the room was radiant. All windows seemed to glow with light too bright for the time of the year and as Ginny peered through them, they did not offer the usual view of the Hogwarts grounds, but instead meadows cast in colours that were far too bright, like an artist's impression of a summer day.
The imagery of horrifying curseshad disappeared too. In their stead now floated orbs, not misty like the prophecy orbs in the department of mysteries but balls of pure light, like the sun had been caught inside. Only the display cases had been retained, though their contents had been replaced. No more dark skulls or snake necklaces. Instead, they held objects that would not have looked out of place in Dumbledore's office. Golden discs that turned on their own axis. A multi-faceted diamond reflecting not the world around it, but something else, something that stirred just at the edge of their awareness. A glass bird sitting in a golden cage, hopping from one leg unto the other and singing sotto voce.
"Have a seat, please," Rookwood encouraged them, sounding pleasant. His eyes were warm and his smile even warmer. Ginny wasn't fooled. This was the monster that had killed Hermione.
And still Ginny did as he asked, taking a seat right near the middle, next to Colin. Slowly, the rest of their year filtered in and took their places. Rookwood watched them, sitting on his desk, his legs dangling. When the last had entered, the door fell shut without even the slightest indication that Rookwood had done anything.
"Welcome dear witches and wizards. Welcome to Dark Arts," he greeted them, his voice caressing the title of his new class. "You are my first group. Rather exciting, isn't it?" he asked them, eyes twinkling as he jumped off the desk.
"I will admit, we face a difficult challenge," he continued, his hands moving as he spoke. "The Dark Arts are surrounded by a lot of preconceptions. Preconceptions you all hold, through no fault of your own," he added, left hand raised with two fingers extended in caution. "But through the curriculum of Hogwarts. I do not wish to blame my predecessors who taught the previous, defensive incarnation of this class. They were just following the Ministry's approved syllabus. Also, one of them is my current employer," he said, flashing them a smile.
Most of the class laughed nervously, even Colin. Not Ginny. She couldn't quite reconcile the amiable man here with the Death Eater she knew, but she suspected that was just a matter of time. Masks did not cling too well to faces ravaged by Azkaban's madness.
Rookwood continued, his voice gentle. "I will seek to start from a tabula rasa and replace those preconceptions with factual knowledge, as well as love. Love for the beauty that is the Dark Arts. They can stir your spirits unlike any other field of magic and allow you to shape reality into a more beautiful version of itself. Nothing is impossible, if you are willing to serve as a vessel for the oldest form of magic," he waxed. "All that you need, is the right mindset and the right teacher. I do not doubt you have the former, I will endeavour to embody the latter.
"Yet all this wonder comes at a price. I encourage you to apply yourself and heed my tutelage. I demand that you pay attention during my class," he said, his tone become harsher. "Those who let their minds wander, or think to be amusing and talk back, they will regret it," he said, all trace of a smile now gone as he set off around the edge of the classroom.
"You may not know this, but the Dark Lord once envisaged a career in education," Rookwood continued, tone light again. "And he told me before sending me here: 'Augustus' - he calls me Augustus, we are dear friends - 'Augustus my friend, the most important part of teaching is not telling. It is showing'. And I intend to take that advice to heart," he concluded, coming to a stop in front of Ginny's desk.
His eyes first landed on her and she could feel them glide along the scars on her face and her neck. She told herself she was not afraid, though she held her breath and could feel her hand begin to quiver.
Then, his gaze shifted to Colin.
"Mr Creevey, was it?" he asked, sounding kindly, grandfatherly almost.
"Yes sir," Colin replied. To his credit, his voice was level. Either he was brave, or he hadn't realised they were locked in here with a wild animal.
"I have been informed you are a Muggleborn. Rest assured, I have nothing against your kind," he began and Ginny could feel Colin relax. "The new regime, however, has deemed you expendable, which makes you the perfect assistant for today's cautionary tale. Move to the front of the class please," Rookwood said.
"I'm sorry?" Colin repeated.
Rookwood raised an eyebrow and suddenly, his wand was in his hand. He gave a gentle flick and Colin rose, movements mechanical as he walked to the front of the class, propelled by whatever nonverbal spell Rookwood had employed. Ginny hoped it wasn't the Imperius curse.
"I dislike repeating myself," Rookwood told the class jovially. "Do remember that."
He returned to the front and took position next to Colin. Ginny could see her friend was visibly shaking. The class was deadly quiet. She wanted to protest, to say something. But they'd agreed to keep a low profile. The DA had said as much. Her father had asked her as much even before the Ministry's fall. And Rookwood hadn't done anything yet. Surely, he wouldn't hurt Colin?
"Now, Mr Creevey will assist me in explaining two matters at once. Two birds, one stone as it were. Firstly, he will help me reveal what awaits the troublemakers among you. Secondly, he will give you a glimpse of next year's curriculum. It is no easy spell, but I have been informed Miss Weasley has already mastered it via independent study, so by next year, I expect all of you to face little difficulty. I speak of the rather morbidly named Transmogrifian Torture."
Colin was shaking even harder now. Ginny didn't quite realise it, but she'd stood up.
"No!" she shouted.
"No?" Rookwood responded, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, I think. Sit down again, Miss Weasley."
"You can't do that," she said, grabbing her wand though realising that pointing it at Rookwood would probably only make matters worse.
"I can and I will," Rookwood replied lightly. "Miss Weasley, you may not be aware of this, but your brother interceded with Minister Yaxley on behalf of you and your family. I must commend his foresight, as I would have been tempted to single you out otherwise, given our history. Do not reject this gift," he said.
"You-" she began, even as she could feel the class's eyes on her
"Caerus," Rookwood interrupted instantly, the tip of his wand flaring with a gentle white light. Her mouth stopped moving, no sound left her lips. Her whole body had stopped answering, like she'd been frozen in place, though unlike the petrification charm or the stunning spell, it left her in her last pose, wand still gripped.
"Miss Weasley has allowed me to already demonstrate next week's spell, the Chronan Lapse. It allows you to trap a person in a small pocket of time, a stasis spell of much greater elegance and versality than traditional stunning spells, though one you are no doubt unaware of due to its classification as 'dark'," Rookwood lectured. "People sometimes speculate this spell is used by Unspeakables in the creation of Time Turners. As a former Unspeakable myself, allow me to debunk that myth," he said, surveying the class.
Well, why aren't you writing that down?" he asked, sounding a bit cross.
Quills began scratching across parchment as Ginny stood there, still frozen, eyes open and beginning to tear. Not even her eyelids still answered her commands.
"Now, back to my example," Rookwood said, turning to Colin. "Observe, the Transmogrifian Torture curse," he announced. "Pleaga." His wand wove a figure eight in the air.
It was just like the Department of Mysteries. She could only watch as something terrible sprang forth and rippled towards Colin, trapped in place and unable to dodge, unlike Hermione. She could only watch as the wave washed over him and pulled him along, leaving him floating in the air like he was being dragged away by the current. She could only watch as a hundred small wounds appeared on his skin and he bled. She could only watch as he screamed, whatever noise he was making drowned out by the spell. She could only watch as the wave disappeared and he dropped to the ground, motionless.
Rookwood studied the spectacle dispassionately, but he was the only one. She could hear her class gasp. Someone screamed. Someone else sobbed softly as Colin lay there, so still he may very well have been dead.
"Hmm, a strong reaction. It would almost make you wonder if Muggleborns are weaker magically after all. You may take him to the Hospital Wing," he told Ginny, jabbing his wand at her.
She could feel the spell leave her and she almost stumbled, her last motion still underway even as her eyes blinked furiously. It was like the tremors had been waiting for her, her whole body shaking so badly she struggled to stay on her feet. But she still held her wand. She could curse him. She wanted to curse him. For Colin. For Hermione.
"Well?" Rookwood asked, raising an eyebrow. "Unless of course you have suddenly had the same epiphany as your brother Percy and consider his kind worthless. In that case, you may take your seat again."
She was going to kill him, Ginny vowed. But not right now. Colin needed her. She hurried towards her friend, his skin cold to the touch, he still breathed, though haltingly. She levitated him upwards and steered him out of the class, moving as fast as she dared. Past the desks and the horrified faces of their classmates, even as Rookwood continued his lecture.
Voldemort had sent a monster to Hogwarts. And she had no clue what they could do. She fought back a sob.
#
Madam Pomfrey didn't speak when Ginny brought in Colin. She only gasped and then hurried them inside, levitating Colin onto a bed. Her wand became a blur as she cast spell after spell, the wounds softly knitting themselves shut. Colin didn't stir, not even when she forced a potion down his throat and then cast another spell, one that made him glow all over.
Ginny tried to follow, remembering her intention to learn more healing spells, but Madam Pomfrey moved too fast today and hardly seemed interested in explaining her actions. Only after more than fifteen minutes, her brow awash with sweat, did she finally acknowledge her. For one irrational moment, she thought Pomfrey would blame her. It had been Ginny who had last used this curse within these walls.
"Rookwood?" she asked instead, as she gently ran her hand along Colin's cheek. The wounds were gone, replaced with tiny scars. She wondered if they, like Nott's, would never fully fade.
"Yes. An object lesson he called it," she said bitterly, unable to look away from Colin.
He was still alive, she told herself. Still breathing. She wondered what she'd tell Dennis. That his brother had been tortured in class? That she'd watched, unable to do anything?
At least this time you didn't petrify him, Tom sneered.
"These are dark times we're in, Miss Weasley," adam Pomfrey said. "And there is little we can do but weather the storm as best as we can."
It was true, of course. If the staff protested, they would simply see themselves evicted and replaced by more people like Rookwood. It was the same logic she'd shared with the DA, but she'd still hoped the adults would somehow be able to do more. Perhaps if Dumbledore had still lived, none of this would have happened. But all those hypotheticals offered neither wisdom nor reassurance.
So instead she just nodded and left the hospital wing. Loath as she was to return to Rookwood's realm, her bag was still there and she'd be damned if she'd let him chase her from his class on the first day. All eyes were on her as she returned, even Rookwood's, though he did not interrupt his history lesson on the Transmogrifian Torture curse. Ginny sat down and began taking notes, barely registering Rookwood's account of its origins in a dark forest in Germany.
#
Dennis had just looked pale and nodded as Ginny had told him, but the rest caught word of it through the grapevine. During lunch, she could see the account of Rookwood's example spread like wildfire. Even among the Slytherin table, most were subdued. Victorious or not, no one seemed too comfortable with the torturing of a student. Only Nott and his clique were unfazed, happily holding court in the middle of the table. It was a cruel reflection of the head table. The staff whispered softly, but Snape and Rookwood at the centre chatted amiably.
Ginny could feel the fear in the air, as it slowly crept into the stones of the castle. Before, there had been uncertainty and chaos. Most still didn't know what had truly happened at the Ministry, but they were beginning to realise what this new rule truly meant for Hogwarts. They were no longer safe. A reign of terror that could no longer be ignored.
However, not just the tale of Rookwood's example spread. Slowly, people were beginning to pick up on the implications of his words as well. Implications Ginny had tried not to think of, but knew she could no longer avoid. Muggleborns were at risk, even the children.
Perhaps that was why the next DA meeting didn't commence with practice, but instead saw all of them gathered round in a circle, though with reduced numbers. Colin was still in the Hospital Wing and Dennis watched over him. That left just nine in the Room, all seated and staring into the distance, unsure what to say.
"How's Colin?" Susan asked eventually.
"Madam Pomfrey says he'll get better, but it will take some time. The scars will be there to stay though," Ginny said, trying not to feel her own scars as she said those words.
"The curse Rookwood used-" Chang began and Ginny cut her off.
"It was the same one I used on Nott, yes. I saw him use it before. At the Department of Mysteries," she admitted. "And now we all know what happens when the caster really means it," she added bitterly.
"No, we can't."
So what? We prank Rookwood?" Chang asked and Ginny could hear the disdain in her voice. She tried not to snap at her.
"No. Too dangerous and it won't change a thing. No, we need something symbolic," she said and she could feel everyone's eyes on hers, her words breaking through the fugue of horror.
"Go on," Chang said, looking intrigued despite it all.
"People are afraid right now. They see the world changing around them, without an alternative. The Ministry's been defeated, Dumbledore's successors are either dead or disappeared. We need to show them we haven't all been defeated. Nor that we will be cowed by Snape or Rookwood," Ginny said.
"Won't that be dangerous?" Lavender asked.
"Very," she admitted. "Which is why initially I didn't want to do anything. And why I won't ask anyone to join if they don't feel comfortable. You've seen what Rookwood will do. It's worse than Umbridge. But I can't just sit here and let them win."
"Why us though?" Ernie asked. "We're not even adults yet, except for Cho," he said with a nod of his head in her direction. "Why do we need to get in the crossfire?"
"Because no one else will do it," Ginny said. "I don't know what's happening outside, but in here, we're on our own. If we give up, everyone will," she said and swept her eyes across the room.
Susan was nodding along vehemently, still the first on the barricades, still so desperate to fight. Astoria smiled at her, visibly scared but with her all the way. Chang's face was unreadable. The rest, they just looked scared.
"So, who is with me?" she asked and even as she uttered those words, she realised she'd lost most of them.
"I'm sorry Ginny, but no," Lavender said, shaking her head. "What you said last time is still true. It's no game we're playing here. If we're caught…" she shivered visibly.
Without Lavender articulating the threat, Ginny could think of a few things. She'd witnessed Rookwood in action several times now and had come to recognise the radiant twinkle in his eyes that appeared when he hurt people.
"I just want to make it home safe for Easter. I think we all do," she said and Ginny could see Ernie and Seamus nod along.
"This is just too much," Parvati joined in. "I was fine with us learning to defend ourselves, so we'd be ready if the war came to us. I was even fine with being part of the fight. But what you're asking us is to be the fight all on our own," she concluded. "And that can't end well. You know that better than anyone," Parvati concluded.
The worst part was, Ginny couldn't fully disagreed. The last time they'd acted as soldiers, five of her friends had died. There was no telling that this time it would be different, especially now that Hogwarts was no longer safe. So maybe her anger at them was misplaced. But still, she carried it. Because couldn't they see this was bigger than all of them?
"I just want to make it home for Easter," Lavender repeated. "To find out if there's something still worth fighting for, or if we just need to keep our heads down. Can't we wait till then?" she pleaded.
"By Easter the school's spirit will be broken," Ginny said.
"Maybe. But right now… I can't. I just can't. You saw what happened to Colin," Lavender said.
"Fine, then we'll do it with you," Susan said. "There's the door, I'm not drawing another line."
"Susan—" Ernie began but she quelled him with a look.
"If your mind's made up, you can leave," Susan said and Ginny was grateful for it, unsure if she still had the energy for it herself.
Lavender, Ernie and Seamus were the first to leave, heads bowed maybe not in shame, but in sadness. Parvati and Padma had a brief hushed decision, after which the former left and the latter lingered. Just more than half remained. Loyal Astoria. Combative Susan. Unreadable Chang. Pensive Padma. And Ginny, leader still of an ever smaller army.
"I suppose you need to lose someone before you're willing to go the distance," Chang said, the first to break the silence after the door had fallen shut with a particularly final slam after Parvati. Padma was still staring at it, as if expecting her twin to come back any second now.
"And even then, it's not always enough," Astoria said.
"It doesn't matter," Ginny said. "I can't fault them for being sensible."
"Inspiring words," Chang muttered. "Got any more of those?"
Ginny fought down the urge to hex her. She at least was still here and Ginny really couldn't afford to be picky. Instead, she waved her wand and five chairs floated over.
"Now we strategise," she declared as everyone settled down. "Lines have been crossed, so we react. The question is, how?"
"We need a grand display of resistance," Susan said. "Something for people to take heart in. Like Harry's interview with the Quibbler last year."
"Yes, though perhaps something that keeps us a little bit more out of the crosshairs," Ginny said with a wry smile. "Not to mention I fear not even Skeeter would be willing to interview any of us now."
"What if we kill Rookwood?" Susan offered, earning her a chuckle.
Then, Ginny noticed Susan herself wasn't smiling. "I'm sorry?"
"It's a strong signal," Susan said with a shrug.
"It's murder," Astoria countered.
"What? Does it offend your Slytherin sensibilities?" Susan said. "This is war. A lot of people have already died. More people will die. Merlin knows Rookwood deserves it."
It was tempting, that was the worst part of it. They'd lost so many people, in part due to Rookwood. It'd feel good to strike back. To hurt them like they'd hurt her. Clearly, he was one of Voldemort's favourites for getting this post. It should be feasible too. No doubt he felt invulnerable. Especially with her cloak, it'd easy to catch him off guard. Just a spell whispered at his back and it could all be over.
"No," she said finally, shaking her head. "Voldemort wouldn't let that slide. There would be consequences for Hogwarts."
"Whatever we do, there will be consequences," Susan countered.
"Quite. But this is too much for now. I won't risk children."
"Except when those children are us of course," Chang said.
"We chose for this. The rest didn't."
"Fair," Susan conceded with a sigh. "But then what? How do we toe the line between something grand and symbolic and pushing You-Know-Who too far?"
"I might have an idea," Padma said, speaking for the first time since her sister had walked out. "I'm sure I'm not the only one who noticed how proud Nott and his friends were looking? What if we target Slytherin?"
"That could work", Ginny admitted. Tom had been obsessed with the grandeur of his old house. There were enough signs Voldemort still was. "What did you have in mind?"
"That depends. Can you still get into the Chamber of Secrets?" Padma asked.
Ginny's eyes narrowed, even as she tried to hide the rising panic. She could see Astoria stiffen as well. Had they been followed when they went there last time, looking for a Horcrux they never found?
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said calmly.
"Ginny, I know the school tried to keep things quiet, but this is Hogwarts. We know you played a role in what happened with the Chamber. You don't need to share the details, but if you're serious about this fight, I need to know if there's something there we can use," Padma said.
It wasn't fair. The Chamber was her secret.
Ours, Tom corrected her.
The rest had nothing to do with it. They had no right to know the games Tom had played with her mind. Or what had transpired within its cold halls. What she had seen. What Harry had fought. Those were her memories.
Only, did that really matter still? What was one set of awful memories after the cavalcade of atrocities lately? What right did she have to keep it from them? It was her idea to fight back and they'd all agreed to the risk. Keeping the Chamber a secret would be ill-treating them.
Don't you dare. It's bad enough you let your pet Slytherin in there. But this filth?
Tom's anger clinched it.
"I can get in there, yes," she admitted.
"Harry fought Slytherin's monster in there, didn't he?" Padma pressed.
"Yes," Ginny nodded.
"Any sign of that still there? Something we could use?"
Finally, she realises where Padma was heading. It made sense and it would be the perfect way to remind the school of what one boy had once accomplished, armed with nothing but a brave heart, a Phoenix's song and a sword.
"I might know just the thing."