Five: Defence against the dark arts

Another night spent tossing, another morning dragging herself out of bed. Steam spread across the bathroom as the hot water descended upon her. In the heat, it felt like her scars were coming alive, writhing under her skin. The Healers hadn't figured out whatever curse it was that Dolohov had used, but sometimes Ginny wondered if it didn't have a mind of its own. Her mum had assured her they never moved and as she was the only one who wasn't afraid to look at them, really look at them, Ginny was inclined to believe her. But it felt like they did sometimes, constricting ever tighter around her arm, creeping ever closer to her right eye, swaying to some kind of dark tune, or maybe Tom's whispers.

You failed them, Ginny. You survived because you were too weak. They died because you slowed them down. And Harry died, never loving you. He even chose spiting me over saving you when he crushed that orb.

She turned up the heat and let it scald away the whispers.

Thursday was DADA day. After all the complaints and horror stories, she was rather curious to see if Snape had become even fouler with his new position. It didn't worry her, she was used to it.

It turned out she was wrong. The classroom was foreboding enough on its own, Snape having brought the darkness from the dungeons with him. Curtains drawn across the windows, candlelight dancing erratically and cautionary illustrations of the dark arts everywhere. Pictures adorned the wall, depicting people in pain or horribly disfigured. Ginny could see her own picture fit in quite nicely. Strange objects floated in glass display cases, ranging from a skull with green eyes to a necklace of a snake that seemed to be staring at Ginny, to a black mirror that didn't reflect anything. Instead it seemed to eat the light, the room even darker in that particular corner.

And then there was Snape, glaring at the class in general and Ginny in particular, still seated alone at a table. When his gaze fell on her, it was with a venom that had previously been reserved for Harry. Before, he'd scorned her just on account of her being a Weasley, but this look felt different. As if she'd personally offended him.

"You have had four teachers so far. A fool, a werewolf, a madman and an even greater fool. I expect very little, but I do not doubt I will be disappointed at the end of this year nonetheless. You will take your OW.L.'s. most of you will fail, and then I will no longer have to tolerate your incompetence next year," he said, his voice barely a whisper as he moved through the classroom, their necks craning as they tried to follow him.

"Still, I will try to impart whatever wisdom your tiny heads may be able to contain in the hope that you will be able to muster at least some sort of defence when faced with the dark arts. Thus, I urge you to pay attention, lest you end up like Miss Weasley," he said, stopping behind her. Ginny could feel her cheeks burn, but refused to turn around. She could sit through Snape's comments, she had four years of experience with it.

"The dark arts are impossible to comprehend with a narrow mind," he continued, moving back to the front of the class. "They shift at the edge of your awareness, then strike, each attack unlike its predecessor. They can kill or maim, scar or tear and even make you wish for death. Do not believe me, judge for yourself," he said gesturing at the gruesome pictures that radiated malice. "Or, if you are not capable of independent thought, just read the Prophet," he sneered.

"Given the current state of affairs, the Headmaster has requested I devote most of this year to teaching you to defend yourself against dark arts wielded by humans. No doubt he already believes you capable of withstanding dark creatures as you were taught by one in your second year and still survived," he added, lips curling upwards. Ginny wanted to throttle him for that remark. Poor Remus Lupin who had been forced to leave the school due to Snape's machinations, despite being ten times the teacher and man that Snape was.

"Today, we will begin with the Shield charm. Any volunteers to help?" he asked, his eyes resting on Ginny. She stared back. "Despite all visible proof to the contrary, I've been informed you are familiar with the incantation, Miss Weasley?"

"Yes," she said.

"Yes Sir," he corrected, eyes turning even colder. "Five points from Gryffindor. Move to the front of the class, Miss Weasley."

Ginny pushed her chair back and moved to the front, reminding herself that she wasn't afraid. Her footsteps echoed across the deathly quiet classroom. Snape studied her and then raised his wand.

"Miss Weasley will attempt the shield charm, the incantation being Protego. Observe well. If Miss Weasley spoke the truth, you will be able to see the spell in action. If she boasted, you will see why it is paramount that you master the spell. Defend yourself, Miss Weasley," he said and whipped out his wand with impossible speed, faster than even the Death Eaters had been. A white jet of light sped from his wand towards her.

Somehow, she is duelling Avery now. He hisses one curse after another that light up the dark void of space as she ducks and weaves. It's just Quidditch, she tells herself. Quidditch with a particularly nasty Beater going after her. In the distance, a planet explodes and a man roars in pain.

She slips on the shards of what had once been a model of the planet Mars. Avery grins as he fires a red jet at her. Unable to dodge, she raises her wand and prays that her shield spell will hold.

"Protego!" she yelled, both in her memory and in the classroom.

A translucent barrier sprang into existence, shimmering in front of her. Snape's spell splashed against it and dissipated harmlessly. Snape's eyes briefly flared with irritation, even as Ginny couldn't help but grin. She'd pulled off the spell just like Harry had taught her.

"As you can see, a properly cast Shield-charm will repel the attack. The quality of the shield, however, is fully dependent on the skill of the caster. Anyone can block a harmless jinx. But if we increase the intensity, the strain on the caster increases," and without another word, Snape sent another spell flying towards her.

It slammed into her shield, which began to shiver and vibrate. The shock ran through her body as well and briefly she trembled with it. Even as the tremor faded, her right arm continued to shake. The shield, however, had held.

"You can observe that even a slightly more powerful jinx gave Miss Weasley significant trouble," Snape said.

The class was staring in horror, even Colin was no longer trying to pretend she didn't exist. Snape hurled another spell her way. It was as if a Bludger had slammed into her shield. It trembled, shockwaves rippling over its surface, and then broke together with the spell. Ginny stumbled backwards and sank to her right knee.

"A moderate jinx will already shatter her shield and destabilise her," Snape lectured and then gave her an impatient look. "Get up, Miss Weasley, you can't shield while crouching."

Any hope she'd had that this would be the end of his demonstration was quickly crushed. Ginny rose again and conjured the shield. It looked more fragile than before. Her arm still hadn't stopped quivering and now the tremor was spreading to her right leg.

"Observe what happens if we increase the power of the spell ever so slightly," Snape said and then hurled another spell at her. This one was purple in colour. It touched the shield and broke it.

For one wonderful second, it felt like she was floating in the air. Then she was hurled against the wall by an invisible force that drove the air out of her lungs. She sank to her hands and knees and coughed, feeling like she might throw up.

"Ginny!" she could hear someone scream, as if from very far away, followed by hurried footsteps. Her vision was swimming, the grey stones mingling with what must be light brown hair next to her.

"Get back to your place, Mister Creevey. Miss Weasley is simply enjoying revelling in her supposed frailty," Snape's voice cut straight through her fugue.

"Professor, she's hurt," the first voice protested. It sounded almost like Colin.

"She's fine. Ten points from Gryffindor, Mister Creevey, and it will be a lot more if you don't return to your place right now."

"I'm fine," Ginny whispered as she looked up at a very blurry Colin Creevey. "Really," she added.

Colin hurried back to his place as she crawled back up. Her back was sore from where she'd hit the wall and her whole right side was shuddering, as if the scars had been awoken. Snape just stood there, studying her dispassionately.

"Your Shield charm needs work, Miss Weasley. Even a first year should have been able to block that spell. You may return to your seat."

As Ginny limped back to her place, unable to meet the eyes of her classmates, she decided she hated Snape. Not as much as the Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries. Not as much as Umbridge. Not nearly as much as Voldemort. But still, she hated him.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. Snape lectured and demonstrated the spell before the class was told to practice amongst each other. As the odd one out, Ginny remained seated and was grateful for it. She didn't trust herself to be capable of standing up again.

When Snape dismissed the class, she hardly noticed. Not until Colin stood in front of her desk and offered his arm.

"Shall we, Ginny?"

"I can walk on my own," she lied.

"I know that," he lied back. "But you don't have to."

Recognising an olive branch when she saw one, and unwilling to remain here with just Snape, she took his arm and let him guide her towards the exit. Her legs felt wobbly, as if she'd just ran a marathon.

"Snape's a jerk," Colin said as soon as they'd left the classroom, away from its oppressive darkness and air thick with dark magic.

"You can say that again," she agreed.

"I'm sorry," he said after a while. "I just didn't know what to say. I still don't," he admitted.

"It's alright, I don't know it either," she admitted. "Are you angry with me? For surviving?" she asked, her tone somewhere halfway accusatory and afraid.

"No!" Colin exclaimed, genuine shock written across his face. "When they died, I was angry, yes. But not with you. With You Know Who. With Malfoy, Lestrange and all the others. But not with you. Never. I'm glad you survived," he said.

"When you didn't come to speak with me, I thought you might have been," she said, unwilling to accept Colin's words so easily, reassuring as they may be.

"No. Like I said, I just didn't know what to say. It's just… Harry was my hero," he said. That she could understand. Though she did wonder, who did you become when your hero was gone?

"He was that to a lot of people. Are you still angry?"

"Angry and scared. For a while, I didn't want to come back. For the longest time, my parents didn't want me to either."

"Five dead, I can't imagine how that sounded to them," Ginny said. Colin's parents definitely hadn't been the only ones. The hallways were emptier this year, emptier even than could be explained by the gaping hole left by Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna. "What changed?"

"What was the alternative?" he said sadly. "We can't just move somewhere else," he said. Ginny had noticed before that Colin's robes had never been less threadbare than her own. "And here at Hogwarts we at least have Dumbledore."

Ginny hummed noncommittally. Promises or not, she still wasn't fully convinced. Dumbledore could chase off Voldemort, he'd already done so in the past. But could he do so without collateral damage?

"And Dumbledore's Army," he added with a sad smile. Clearly, the Patils and Lavender hadn't wasted any time spreading the word around.

"You coming?" she asked.

"Of course. I think everyone is. Even Smith, I suppose."

"Great," she sighed, wondering if it was too late to uninvite him.

"I'll kill him."

"Tori, you can't kill him, he's your Head of House."

"That's an aggravating circumstance at most. My mum practices law, she can find a way around that," Astoria declared primly.

They had retreated to the Room of Requirement, sipping from cups of hot cocoa Ginny had liberated from the kitchen. Her brothers had ensured the last Weasley didn't return unprepared to Hogwarts, sharing all the secrets they'd ever uncovered with her. Just in case. Astoria had claimed the loveseat again and Ginny lay sprawled out on a couch, having foregone the stupid bean bag chair this time. A Weird Sisters record played in the background, one Astoria had pronounced to be much better than their current commercial trash. Ginny didn't quite hear the difference, but it probably was better not to argue the point.

"Do you think he's angry you survived the Battle at the Department of Mysteries?" Astoria asked.

"Why do you think that?" Ginny asked, unable to hide her confusion.

Astoria looked at her like she was a bit slow.

"Snape was a Death Eater during the war. A lot of people think he still is. "

Of course, Astoria didn't know. Ginny had gotten so used to being surrounded by Order people, or Luna who seemed to just know all those things without ever being told, she sometimes forgot most people didn't know that Snape was, in addition to being the world's biggest asshole, also a spy. And as much as she liked and even trusted Astoria, that wasn't her secret to share.

"Maybe. But wouldn't he a bit more subtle about it in that case? He's a Slytherin," she teased, hoping to steer the conversation away from that particular topic. As logical as it was to lie, it still felt wrong, especially with how surprisingly open Astoria had been these past few days.

"Have you seen some of the idiots we have in our house? Crabbe, Goyle, Harper," she counted on her fingers. "And if you need more examples, I've got plenty," she said, sipping from her mug.

"Touché, Ginny said, staring at the ceiling. It was a black void filled with twinkling stars. Beautiful, though reminiscent of the Planet room in the Department of Mysteries.

Her shield vibrates when Avery's spell hits home, but holds. Thanks Harry, she thinks. If not for the D.A., that could have been it. She squashes the treacherous thought that without the D.A. she wouldn't even be here and scrambles back up. She dives through the asteroid belt between Jupiter and the now defunct Mars and can hear the miniature rocks absorbing Avery's next volley of spellfire.

Suddenly, Pluto comes whizzing past, far quicker than any other planet in the room. Just before it reaches the Death Eaters, it shatters in a brilliant explosion, almost a supernova. Spots dance before her eyes as Luna pulls her along.

"I always thought Pluto was an underrated planet," she says.

"Did you see Pomfrey about your injuries?" Astoria asked.

"No," she said, still staring at the stars. One of them looked a bit like Canis Major. She wonders how Sirius is doing. She hadn't seen him since the battle and even in her state at the time, she could easily tell he'd been an utterly broken man. No one had wanted to tell her where he'd gone off to.

"Or McGonagall?"

"No. This is between me and Snape," she said. She wondered what it'd like to be named after a star. To look up at the night sky and see your namesake blinking happily.

"Between you and Snape?" Astoria echoed. "Ginny, he's an adult. That's not exactly a fair fight."

"That'll make it all the better when I beat him," she declared, straightening and stretching to get the kinks out of her back. "We're reforming the D.A.," she announced.

"Don't change the subject," she protested.

"I already did, Tori. Want to come? We meet on Wednesday," she asked, trying to make it sound casual.

Of course, Astoria had vehemently declared her intention to join before, but after everything that had happened in just a few days, Ginny didn't want to make her feel obliged. No doubt Daphne was still putting pressure on her sister to cut all ties with a blood traitor.

"Of course!" Astoria responded instantly, silencing whatever doubts had begun to surface, before bringing her own to the table. "But will the rest want me there?" she asked, fidgeting with her Slytherin tie.

"I'm in charge, I get to decide," Ginny said airily. "You want in, I want you there, so you'll be there. Simple logic. Should at least convince the Ravenclaws."

"Good," Astoria said. "It'd be odd if someone else was in charge."

"What, like a more experienced seventh year who actually knew what they were doing?" she countered.

"Ginny, don't sell yourself short. Your ability to annoy Snape alone already makes you the most qualified person for the job."

"I annoy him by existing."

"Exactly, I can't think of a better seal of recommendation," Astoria said facetiously. Ginny smiled weakly. In that respect, she was at least Harry's successor. "Plus, what seventh year do you still have left with Fred and George gone? Chang? You'd want her leading it all?"

Ginny remembered Harry and Chang's failed romance and could feel anger bubbling to the surface. Even with one miserable date and one equally miserable kiss, Chang had had more than she'd ever would. When Hermione had told her, it had taken her all the self-control she could muster not to hex the girl. Well, her self-control and mostly Hermione's advice that such a course of action would only be counterproductive. She told herself it wasn't Chang's fault, she'd been dating Michael Corner at the time herself, so why couldn't Harry date whoever he wanted? And that was all true… but that still didn't mean she'd be comfortable taking orders from her.

"I see your point," she conceded.

"Anyone else new coming? Or will everyone be staring at me?" Astoria asked.

"I'm going to ask Demelza as well. For the rest, we'll see. The Patils and Lavender are working out some kind of invitation system to keep it safe and manageable. The D.A.'s no longer illegal, but I still don't think we should advertise what we're doing too publicly. Some people might see it as a challenge."

"Malfoy," Astoria coughed.

"Exactly," she said and then a terrible idea struck her. "He isn't part of the Slug Club, is he?"

"No, no," Astoria said, shaking her head. "I don't think Slughorn likes Death Eaters, so by extension any Death Eater children are excluded. Malfoy pretends it doesn't bother him, but it clearly does," she said with a wry smile.

"You're awfully well informed," Ginny said.

"Daphne," Astoria replied with a shrug. "She told me Zabini's in it though, and he's also awful."

"Great," Ginny muttered, a vague memory of an attractive jerk floating to the forefront. "I hope he's at the other end of the table."

"I'm sure Slughorn will have figured out a table setting that keeps things civil. If he devoted as much time to that as he did to the invitations," she said, producing a vivid green piece of parchment with artful silver lettering.

"It's pretty ridiculous, isn't it? Makes it sound like we're meeting with the Minister," Ginny said, fishing her own out of her bag. "I mean, listen to this:

'Dear Miss Weasley, it is my distinct pleasure to invite you to the first Slug Club meeting on Hogwarts' grounds since 1981. This evening of fine food and even finer company will take place on Monday evening in two weeks, six-thirty. Formal wear is not required, though any effort in the garderobial department is of course appreciated. Yours sincerely, Professor Horace E.F. Slughorn.' Is garderobial even a word?" Ginny asked, pushing the already creased parchment back into her bag.

"Beats me. Pretty parchment though. Do you think he does wedding invitations as well?" Astoria said, moving towards the gramophone to put on a new record. "What are you planning for your outfit?"

"I don't know," Ginny shrugged. She was quite sure she'd grown out of her third-year dress robes and they'd have been too excessive anyway. "I didn't bring that many gala clothes with me."

"Not gala, but something more formal than our regular robes," Astoria said, sizing her up. "We're about the same height, right? Or at least close enough that a few charms should set it right. I can borrow you a set of mine?"

"But then what will you wear?" Ginny asked.

"Another set, I've got options," Astoria said, flopping down back in the love seat. Of course she did.

"Isn't it a bit much for just a dinner?" Ginny hedged, a bit uncomfortable. The Slug Club had sounded like an opportunity at first, but the more she thought about it, the more it sounded like something Percy would do.

"It's 'the first Slug Club meeting on Hogwarts' grounds since 1981', remember?" Astoria said, sounding so pompous Ginny wondered if she'd summoned the spirit of Percy by just thinking about him. "I'm sure you'll get away with whatever you want to wear, Slughorn will love you regardless, but it never hurts to shine a bit. Besides, that way I can put in an effort as well without us clashing," Astoria admitted. "You can borrow some of my jewellery as well, but I don't think they're quite your style."

Ginny looked at Astoria and her elegant bracelets with swirling runes, the lariat necklace and finally the diamond dangle earrings and shook her head in amusement. "Maybe for the next ball I'll let you talk me into those."

"I'll remember that. But I'll fix you a dress? I got an emerald green one that will look great on you."

Emerald green, like Slytherin. Or Harry's eyes. Or the killing curse. Or, you know, just a colour that looks good on her.

"Alright, but it better be a good dress."

"Ginny, it'll be the best," Astoria promised.