Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: Hello, and thank you so, so much for the reviews! I'm really glad you enjoyed the chapter with Hermione's parents, and my exploration of the disconnect between them and Hermione. I honestly wonder how many other Muggle-born students this happened to. It's something I really, really wanted to take an in-depth look at.
The interesting thing is, I didn't think of the parent-teacher conferences plotline until last October, but I always wanted to take a look at wizard/Muggle relations. When I got the brain wave for the parent-teacher conferences, it all came together. Isn't that weird how that happens sometimes? It was like, ah, now I can see where I'm going with this. As a writer, it definitely inspired me.
It's really great to have another blind person reading my story! Thanks for reviewing, and I'm really glad you're enjoying it!
As for Voldemort's Horcruxes, you're probably right. I've seen conflicting information about whose murder Voldemort used to make Nagini into a Horcrux. It could definitely have been Frank Bryce's too. I still find it horribly incredible that he was still able to make Horcruxes even without his body.
All right, we're heading back to Hogwarts, and into a House I haven't really explored in depth in this fanfic before. I thought it would be interesting to look at how the Slytherins take the news of the parent-teacher conferences. I hope you enjoy it.
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Darkness had fallen over Hogwarts Castle. Prefect duties were finished for the night, and thankfully, there had been no wayward students to discipline. Though some people might think otherwise, Matthew Banner didn't get a kick out of catching misbehaving students out after curfew.
He and Rebecca had just kissed each other goodbye, and headed their separate ways for the night. Many in the school would consider the Slytherin dungeons dark and dreary, but to him, they were familiar. They held a strange sort of comfort, a familiarity he had become very used to in the time he had attended Hogwarts.
But, for once, Matthew didn't want to go back down there. He knew that once he entered the common room, there would be a lively debate going on about a subject that Professor ,Dumbledore had explained more about this evening.
Dumbledore. Yes, he was back amongst them, sitting in the Great Hall at the Head Table, at his usual place next to Professor McGonagall. Over the years, Matthew hadn't really interacted much with the old wizard, but he got the distinct impression that the Headmaster was not at all as comfortable as he used to be. In past days, he had often been seen looking over at the House tables and smiling at the students, but he didn't seem to do that much anymore. Granted, he'd only been back a few days, but it hadn't taken Matthew long to notice.
It was now Monday, and for the past two days, the entire school had been buzzing. Unfortunately, owl delivery was still suspended, so there had been other plans put in place for the students subscribed to the Daily Prophet to still receive them. It was another job for the Hogwarts house-elves, and so far, they had been very much up to the task.
Parent-teacher conferences. It was something that had never happened at Hogwarts before, and Matthew had mixed feelings on the entire thing. First, to imagine his parents at the school did not thrill him. He and Rebecca had shared a heart-to-heart about it this evening, and honestly, she was taking it much better than he was.
Though Matthew's anger towards his parents no longer boiled within him as it had in the days directly after his aunt, uncle, and cousin were murdered and they wouldn't allow Rebecca to attend the funeral, he still didn't want them coming to Hogwarts. He knew it was selfishness speaking again, but it was true nonetheless. He didn't need a lecture about how he was spending too much time with Rebecca and not focusing on his schoolwork. He was sick and tired of the same old boring refrain: "You have two years to go, Matthew. We will not be happy if your NEWT scores are not exemplary."
Rebecca always had a way of making him feel better about things, and her reassuring presence this evening had helped tremendously. She had been so dependable as she helped him navigate the grieving process. He would often see Elizabeth in his nightmares, so still and so lifeless, her school robes almost a mockery of the fact that she could never really enjoy them.
But that was just on a surface level. If his parents coming to Hogwarts was the only thing that was bothering him about the parent-teacher conferences, then he could accept it. It was one night, right? Dumbledore had explained that the parent-teacher conferences would take place over a period of several evenings, but that was only so that every parent would get a chance to attend. It would be divided into years and houses, and a schedule was currently being drawn up.
"This is to be an enormous endeavor, and one that Hogwarts takes very seriously," Dumbledore had stated. "There will be many members of the Ministry here, either keeping guard over the school, answering parents' questions, or showing them around. I am asking for every student to cooperate, and I am very much hoping that it will be a success. If it is, it will become an annual event.
"And," Dumbledore went on, "I must address the most important thing in this whole affair. Considering the times we are currently living through, I know that many are worried for the safety of everyone who is attending. I would like to bring Fiona Giddens, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, up here to discuss this in more detail."
Matthew had thought this was just as well. Because of past events, there were more people here that weren't about to trust anything Dumbledore had to say regarding safety. Fiona Giddens, however, had shown herself to be very competent, and she had made an excellent impression on so many students, Matthew included.
As he listened to Giddens speak about just how many Aurors and Ministry workers would be monitoring the comings and goings of Hogwarts throughout that week, Matthew thought of everything that could go wrong. His dead family's faces kept flitting through his mind no matter how hard he tried to focus on the words she was speaking.
Liz should be here, he thought with sorrow in his heart as he stared in particular at the Hufflepuff table. Over the years, he had always thought that she would be Sorted there. More sadness gripped him as he thought of how Rebecca would have no doubt taken her under her wing. Hufflepuff had lost two students in less than three months, without even knowing the second one at all. It wasn't fair.
It was this, more than anything, that caused him to regard the parent-teacher conferences the way he was. Was it enough to trust that the Aurors and other Ministry workers would have everything under control? Why, out of all the years they possibly could have done it, were they allowing Muggles to become involved in wizarding affairs?
It was Rebecca, once again, who gave him a different perspective. "I think," she said as she took his hand in hers as they performed their Prefect duties later that evening, "that the governors and the Ministry had good reason to allow this. I've always thought it blatantly unfair that there's so much that Muggle parents don't know. My parents, and yours, are so involved in our education, in current events."
It was something Matthew was ashamed to say he hadn't thought about much. Salazar Slytherin's prejudice against Muggle-borns ran deep, and to this day, there had never been a single Muggle-born Sorted into the House. It was a shame, because ambition, cunning, and slyness were not bad traits at all, and it was ridiculous to think that such qualities could only be used for evil. Slytherin House had undoubtedly been unable to hone the skills of some very promising students over the years, simply because of their birth.
Matthew's heart had sunk when he had first been Sorted. It wasn't like he hadn't suspected his House placement before he even boarded the Hogwarts Express, but he also knew the ramifications that came with being Sorted there, the looks he would no doubt receive in the hallways, the ostracization. How was it that so many people in society point-blank refused to understand that the prejudice against Slytherins was no better than the prejudice against Muggle-borns, Muggles, and certain magical creatures such as werewolves?
During the years Matthew had attended Hogwarts, he'd seen the bitterness and resentment that had festered in some of the students. He'd never forget the end of his second year, when it looked for all the world like Slytherin had won the House Cup, and the devastation when Dumbledore had taken their victory from them at the last minute. Why he'd felt the need to do that so deliberately had never made any sense to him.
As rumors had flown wildly around Hogwarts, he couldn't deny that what Potter, Weasley, Granger, and Longbottom had done was exceedingly brave. And it wasn't like they'd asked Dumbledore to dole out the points like that, had they? So it would be just as unfair to be angry with them, he reasoned.
But it was the behavior of the students in the other Houses that had truly rankled. Many in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw acted like the world had completely righted itself upon Gryffindor's win. It was like they couldn't care less that their House hadn't been the winner. It was like three-quarters of the school were all Gryffindors, and Slytherin had been cast aside to wallow in the proverbial mud.
Now, years later, that incident didn't hold the sting it once did. House points didn't mean as much now that he was older. But still, it was the principle of the thing, wasn't it? Slytherins were often treated like pariahs by the rest of the school, and he had mainly learned to live with it. People were going to think what they wanted. Matthew could give into it and act exactly like the jerk they expected him to be, or he could rise above it and not let their taunts get to him. And growing up as he had, with parents who had instilled good morals in him, and knowing the person he wanted to be as he matured, he understood which path he wanted to choose.
And if the majority of the school knew how he felt about the parent-teacher conferences, some would think he didn't want them to happen because he despised Muggles and did not want such filth to traverse the corridors of Hogwarts. They'd think he was some Pureblood elitist who thought Muggles were nothing more than scum, the lowest of the low. Even after he'd lost family so brutally, there were people like Rebecca's roommate, Nancy Drelmer, who thought that he would find any opportunity to get in good with Voldemort.
Ever since it had become known that he and Rebecca had thought up the counterpetition to allow Harry Potter back into Hogwarts, he'd received more curious looks from other students than hostile ones. Some, like Nancy, still thought it was some scheme to bring Harry to Voldemort, but he had observed that some were starting to think more rationally, and he was very thankful for it. Things were already difficult enough this year, and as much as he put on a poker face, he was struggling to come to terms with everything that had happened.
Rebecca had listened quietly as Matthew explained how he was feeling. "I just don't see the benefit of Muggles knowing more about our world," he said softly. "It's not that I think they don't deserve to have the same rights as wizarding parents - it's not that at all."
"Matt, ignorance isn't bliss." Rebecca looked at him with tenderness. "Just because they don't know what might happen to them and their children doesn't eliminate the danger." She stared into his eyes, willing him to understand. Matthew realized she was being more gentle and patient with him than she would be with anyone else when debating a topic like this, because she understood his reasons for being so wary.
Matthew had never been so grateful for anyone. It had been very big of her to confess directly to him that she had once held the same prejudices towards Slytherin House, and he remembered the obvious guilt in her eyes as she had done so. He didn't hold it against her, because she had shown that she had changed. Both pride and exasperation blossomed in him anew as he recalled her physical altercation with Nancy. They'd been dating for ten months now, and her actions alone had proven just how she felt about him.
"But Voldemort will only target them more," Matthew argued just as softly. This was no time to raise voices, after all. Neither of them was angry with the other - they just had very different points of view on this subject.
"He would have targeted them anyway, Matt. Don't you think that Voldemort has ways of knowing exactly who the Muggle-born students are?" Rebecca asked. "It's better if they're prepared."
Matthew shook his head. "I understand what you're saying, Becca, but I'm honestly worried this will backfire. It will only make Voldemort and the Death Eaters want to attack harder."
Rebecca sighed heavily. "Maybe you're right," she said finally. "But ... I just don't like that so much is kept from them. I know you don't see it in your House, Matt, but I see it all the time in mine - many Muggle-borns grow distant from their parents, and it's especially happening now, in times like this."
Matthew had to concede the point there. He honestly couldn't imagine what it would be like for him and his own family to inhabit two entirely different worlds. As angry as he had been with his parents, he knew how much they had been suffering. It was very difficult to think about his circumstances being any different.
Now, as Matthew made his way down to the Slytherin common room, he had a feeling about what would await him there. The parent-teacher conferences would be a major topic of discussion - that was obvious. There would certainly be disagreements about the issue.
What he would hate about it the most, however, was the fact that there were certain people in Slytherin who gave it its bad reputation. Lord Voldemort, in his day, had recruited several of his housemates, and they had gone on to teach his ideology to the next generation. Children like Draco Malfoy, along with his cronies Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, were three prime examples.
Draco had always thrown his weight around the common room, constantly using his father's name and influence as a weapon against anyone who crossed him. Unfortunately, he had succeeded in intimidating many of the younger years whose families weren't quite as high up. The Malfoys were known for giving big sums of money to certain causes, such as helping people at Saint Mungo's.
But Draco was a nasty piece of work, and had loved the sound of his own voice. He would always talk very, very loudly about the latest thing Harry Potter had done. Every time Potter got one over on him, it was always, "My father will hear about this." When Potter beat him at Quidditch, Draco hadn't stopped harping on about how it was so unfair and what a spoiled, entitled, privileged brat Potter was. When the boy mysteriously received a Firebolt, Matthew didn't think he'd ever seen Draco so riled up. He complained ceaselessly to Crabbe and Goyle as they sat there like lifeless lumps, nodding and grunting in all the right places, not stopping him as he blathered on about it for minutes on end.
It was really quite pathetic, Matthew had mused. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought Draco wished he was Harry Potter. "Stupid Scarhead," he'd muttered venomously the year before after the boy had become the fourth Triwizard Champion. Even more pathetic, in Matthew's opinion, was the way Pansy Parkinson hung on his every word, constantly patting his arm and batting her eyelashes at him. It was rather amusing when Draco ignored her advances, continuing to bleat on and on about Potter. It was absolutely ridiculous.
This year, however, Draco was far more subdued. Although he still put on a good show, muttering mutinously about Potter this and Potter that, Matthew saw that his heart wasn't in it anymore. The Malfoys were now a disgraced family, as Lucius inhabited a cell in Azkaban. Whenever Draco went into a diatribe against Potter, Matthew realized it was never about how he'd been kidnapped and tortured by Voldemort. Because Draco knew that if he brought that up, he'd be inviting people to taunt him about his father being in prison.
Slytherin was well-known for putting up a united front around all the other Houses, because they wanted to show solidarity. So much of the school was against them, and they wanted to give the impression that they stood strong, and didn't let it affect them. However, Matthew realized that this backfired in a lot of ways, because it only added to people's perceptions that the reason they didn't confront Draco and his posse outright was because they believed everything that came out of his foul mouth. That was hardly the truth.
The truth was, many people stayed away from that faction of the House, and the bolder ones actually told him that they were sick and tired of his bullshit. In previous years, that had resulted in some physical altercations, especially when Crabbe and Goyle got involved. And the shrieks of Pansy Parkinson could be so deafeningly loud that she could literally chase people out of the common room just by her voice alone.
But, this year, everyone was just plain tired. When Draco went on one of his tirades, as subdued as they were, people either just ignored him, or they would just say, "Shut up, Malfoy." In response, he'd just scowl at them, and Crabbe and Goyle, whose fathers were also in prison, would only crack their knuckles. It was a mark of how strained things had become that Matthew wished for old times. Because old times would mean that his family was alive, and Elizabeth would have been sitting at the Hufflepuff table.
So maybe Matthew should be looking forward to the House being more animated this evening. Maybe he should be excited for some lively debate. But Matthew Banner was thoroughly exhausted, and all he wanted to do at that moment was rest his head on Rebecca's shoulder, reassured by her comforting presence.
His assumptions were right - when he entered the common room, it was packed to bursting with students. Draco and his cronies took up one portion of the chairs and couches, and Matthew had to look away from the sight of Pansy with her arm draped around him. Draco was paying her absolutely no attention, not even looking at her. The look on Pansy's face was one of deep annoyance as she tried unsuccessfully to keep his attention focused entirely on her. Matthew couldn't help but roll his eyes in disgust at the sight. Could the two of them look any more gormless?
"... Statute of Secrecy," were the first words he truly registered as he surveyed his surroundings. "Centuries of wizarding tradition is being broken by this. It's ridiculous. We get some crazy, no-good teacher from the stupid United States, and she convinces the governors and the Ministry to go through with this? Do they have no spine?"
The speaker was not Draco Malfoy, who in previous years would undoubtedly have been the one to make such a statement. Instead, it was Blaise Zabini who had drawled it in a voice laced with bitterness.
Here we go, Matthew thought with a sigh. He did not want to deal with this. A huge wave of tiredness rolled over him, and in that moment, he decided he wasn't going to partake in this debate and just go to bed. The students would still be talking about this in the morning, no doubt.
He took several steps in the direction of the stairs that led to his dormitory, but he should have known that he wasn't going to escape so easily. Unfortunately, it being just his luck, Zabini spotted him.
"Oh, it's you," he stated, still in a drawling tone. "Pathetic Potter's savior. I suppose you're all in for this? You're so willing to kiss the arses of Gryffindors and their ilk these days."
The rest of the common room had gone silent as Blaise pointed Matthew out. Many students gave him speculative looks, and Matthew couldn't read many of their expressions. Unlike the other Houses, Slytherins had learned to shut off their emotions when in mixed company. Even now, when it was just them and no one else, many reverted to it because it had become so practiced.
"As a matter of fact, Zabini," Matthew said in his own bored, drawling tone, "I'm not. However, it is for very different reasons than the likes of you."
Parkinson sneered at him. "You shame our House," she said viciously. "Muggle lover."
"Let's hear what he has to say, Parkinson," Cassius Warrington sneered, but there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
"No." Matthew lifted his chin defiantly. "I think you know what my reasons are for being against this, so I do not need to enlighten you."
Even the likes of Malfoy had not come right out and told Matthew that he was glad his aunt, uncle, and cousin were dead, although he'd seen the vicious gleam in the eyes of the pro-Voldemort faction of the House. Their looks alone spoke volumes; no words needed to go with them. Matthew knew how they felt, and there were days when it took everything in him not to do as Rebecca had done and punch them. If he let himself go down that road, however, he knew he would do worse than what Rebecca had. It wouldn't be just four nights' worth of detention for Matthew Banner - it would be expulsion, and maybe even ...
No. No. No. No. The thoughts were too tempting as he saw Zabini's sneer grow even more pronounced. He filled his mind with Rebecca, who continuously kept him grounded even when she wasn't directly in his vicinity.
Draco had the utter gall to turn his face toward Matthew in that moment. The sneer that had not shown itself for quite a long time materialized on his face as he spat, "What will happen when some pathetic Muggle can't keep their mouth shut and lets it slip about our world? We're literally inviting them in through our doors!"
"Our world." Tracy Davis glowered at Draco. "Our world, Draco? I'm bloody sick of this."
She looked fiercely around the room, staring at all the faces who were looking at her with surprise. Tracy Davis was normally a quiet girl who didn't make her opinions known most of the time. But now, her face was more angry than Matthew thought he'd ever seen it. He, too, was taken aback by her sudden courage.
"We talk about the magical world like we're the only ones inhabiting it, and Muggles don't belong anywhere in it," she continued, her hands on her hips. In that moment, she very much reminded Matthew of Rebecca.
"That's because they don't," Draco drawled. "They have never belonged in our world."
"We know whose side you're on, Malfoy. You don't have to broadcast it to everyone. You've spouted your drivel for over four years now, and I, for one, have had enough of it." Tracy's temper was rising. "Obviously, you're not up to your usual standard, what with your daddy being in Azkaban and all."
Draco stared at Tracy with hatred smoldering in his gray eyes. "You dare ..."
Tracy interrupted again before he could get started. "Yes, I dare, Malfoy." She was still glowering at him. "I've been a coward," she proclaimed as she stared out at the room. "I've sat on my hands for years, listening to the filth that spews from your mouth, and not said anything against it." Her eyes swiveled to Pansy as she stared at her with a burning rage. "You're pathetic," she told one of her dormmates. "You cling to Draco's every word like he's a God. What part of "he's not interested" do you not understand?"
Pansy had gone silent, her face paling with shock at the audacity of her normally quiet dormmate.
Daphne Greengrass, one of Tracy's other dormmates and her best friend, got up as well, and stood next to her. Tracy smiled at her, and this seemed to bolster her, providing her with the courage to say what she wanted to.
"It's people like you that give Slytherin House the reputation it has," she said seriously. "You walk around this school with your nose in the air, thinking you're better than everyone else. Your vile slurs against Muggles and your prejudice against Muggle-borns is not funny. Sure, you'll get laughs from the people who believe your every word, but the rest of us just want to get on with school, do well in our classes, and socialize with the people we want to hang around with."
"We don't need a lecture from the likes of you," Zabini snarled, rising to his feet. "Just because we happen to be upset that the Statute of Secrecy, something sacred that has protected witches and wizards for centuries, is soon to be breached ..."
"Imagine it," said Pansy, Blaise's words allowing her to gain some steam. "Muggles will be asking us to solve all their problems for them. Either that, or they'll be trying to kill us."
"And that, right there, is why we need these parent-teacher conferences." Tracy wasn't budging an inch. "Our stance on Muggles, and their stance on us ... it's all outdated. We either condescend to Muggles, thinking they're on the same level as some adorable pets because they don't do magic - scratch that. Many of us treat our pets better than we treat Muggles."
"You're barking." Draco snorted in disgust. "Are you sure the Sorting Hat put you in the right House? You're sounding very much like a stupid Hufflepuff right now."
Matthew felt a burst of indignation at the insult to Rebecca's House, but Tracy wasn't at all phased. She ignored the barb and went on. "My mother was Muggle-born," she said, and she sounded entirely proud of it.
It was true that no Muggle-born had ever been Sorted into Slytherin, but obviously, Mrs. Davis had not been in this House. This did not mean that their offspring couldn't be Sorted here, however.
"So?" hissed a seventh-year student, Kevin Simmons, malevolently. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Her family wanted nothing to do with her upon learning of the magical world." Tracy's voice had gone soft. "And I don't think she'd mind that I'm telling you."
"Oh-ho!" Simmons sounded triumphant, like Christmas had come early. "Isn't that the exact reason we should want nothing to do with Muggles? They don't understand us," he said disgustedly.
"Because we don't allow them to." Tracy stood with her back ramrod straight. "We either treat them like toys, or we're afraid of them."
Pansy scoffed. "Afraid of Muggles?" Her voice dripped with scorn as she stared at Tracy. "Are you okay?" She suddenly adopted a syrupy sweet tone. "I think you need the infirmary," she cooed, walking over to her and laying a hand on her shoulder. "What spell have you been hit with?"
Tracy shoved Pansy's hand away, removing a handkerchief from the pocket of her robes and wiping the place she had been touched, which was an extremely insulting gesture. "Anyway," she continued, paying Pansy no more notice, "we're afraid of them, because we know how advanced they are in their inventions and their technology. They have been able to do things without magic that we have never believed possible."
"Like landing on the moon," Daphne said.
"Like discovering electricity," Matthew said quietly, a sudden thought creeping up on him. "And ... they created weapons, to fight their own wars. Weapons that do a hell of a lot of damage," he elaborated.
Pansy continued to sneer. "What can their pathetic weapons do against magic?"
"If you opened a real history book and didn't just study the stuff Binns keeps droning on about, perhaps you'll find out just how much damage those weapons are able to do," Daphne stated. "I admit, I haven't seen many of those books at Hogwarts, and that's something that has to change."
"Are you really saying," spoke up a first-year named Henry, "that when the Muggles come here for the parent-teacher conferences and they learn what's going on in the wizarding world, we should ask them to help us fight the war?" His next words were spoken in a whisper. "After the way we've treated them?"
Matthew thought that Henry must have at least one Muggle-born parent, too. It was rare that such a sentiment was spoken out loud, especially in this House, where the pro-Voldemort faction were very outspoken about their anti-Muggle leanings.
"This is ridiculous. I'm done with this conversation," Pansy growled as she got to her feet.
"Me, too." Blaise nodded in agreement. Draco didn't say a word, but he rose as well, along with Crabbe and Goyle.
Matthew's mind was buzzing with thoughts. He remembered how, last summer, he and Rebecca had sat in her kitchen while her father, who was Muggle-born himself, delighted them with tales of Muggle inventions and discoveries. There was so much that Matthew didn't know, so much that Hogwarts had never bothered to teach him. To be honest, he'd never really been that interested in Muggles. He had no derision or hatred towards them either, and he certainly didn't want anything bad befalling them. They deserved to live their lives in peace as much as magical folk did. However, Mr. Hardman's tales of electricity, nuclear weapons, the telephone, the battery ... it piqued Matthew's curiosity.
But Henry was right. Why should they expect anything of Muggle parents who would come here and suddenly set foot into a world that was at war? Why shouldn't he expect every single last one of them to take their children away from Hogwarts forever?
Because after what had happened to his aunt, uncle, and cousin, he wouldn't blame them. If they were told that the price for associating with magic was to be brutally tortured and killed by a Dark Lord who wanted to eradicate all of them, he wouldn't blame them in the slightest.
And what of the Statute? Yes, he was not prejudiced against Muggles like Draco Malfoy and his ilk were. But the Statute of Secrecy was such a major part of wizarding society. How would the magical world cope if, one day, it didn't exist anymore?
But then, Tracy's words came back to him. No, it would be completely unfair to ask Muggles to help them with anything. What had magical people done to deserve their compassion?
But maybe, just maybe, there were reasons why there should no longer be a Statute of Secrecy. Because if they allowed Muggles to learn more about the magical world, the possibilities would certainly open up for the Statute to be breached. America had apparently been doing parent-teacher conferences for a decade, and the Statute remained intact. But Matthew thought that it would only be a matter of time.
He almost laughed as he finally made his way to his dorm and got ready for bed. He had heard countless stories of his House's founder, Salazar Slytherin, and he'd come to the conclusion very early on that the man had been a nasty piece of work. He almost laughed because he could imagine Salazar rolling in his grave. To think that someone that inhabited his oh-so-noble House should have any stray thoughts about the Statute of Secrecy being overturned?
Well, he thought as he crawled under the covers. A little cooperation between our worlds would go a very, very long way.
His fear had not abated in the slightest. He was still terrified for any Muggle who stepped foot into Hogwarts, who learned more about the magical world. Voldemort and his Death Eaters weren't going to stop their reign of terror anytime soon - he knew this.
But the conversation in the common room had given him a new perspective. Even if the Muggles decided not to help them, which they had every right to decide - perhaps they could still find ways of defending themselves. Perhaps Rebecca was right, and if they knew more, they could take Voldemort and the Death Eaters by surprise.
He knew nothing was guaranteed. After all, his aunt and uncle had been a witch and wizard, and in the end, they couldn't defend themselves and their daughter. Sometimes, awful things happened to people, and there was no denying that.
But maybe, Muggles should know what they were fighting against. "Necessity is the mother of invention." He recalled the words of Rebecca's father, his face so animated as he sat at the kitchen table.
Matthew closed his eyes, and the last thing he saw before sleep claimed him was the memory of Elizabeth's face. She was smiling at him, another question about Hogwarts on the tip of her tongue.
And that, Matthew knew, was something he could always hold onto.