Mr. Weasley was discharged from the hospital smoothly before the end of the Christmas holiday. Mrs. Weasley prepared a sumptuous dinner to celebrate his recovery and to express her gratitude to everyone for their dedication and care during Mr. Weasley's injury. However, those of us sitting in the kitchen weren't in high spirits. Going back to Hogwarts had actually become a dreadful thing – the date of the O.W.L. exams was drawing near again, and Umbridge was still swaggering around in the school. Of course, for Neville, what was even more terrifying was that he had to go to Professor Snape's office at six o'clock on Monday evening to start his first Occlumency tutoring session. Even though we spent a lot of effort trying to get him to relax, it seemed to have the opposite effect.
To show Neville our determination to stand by him through thick and thin, even though as soon as we got back to Hogwarts, some members of D.A. came over expectantly and asked if we were going to have a gathering that night, we firmly insisted that we had something important to do that night and that the time for the gathering would be announced later. We decided to write the mountain of homework in the library while waiting for him to come back from his class.
The January night engulfed the scenery outside the window early. The fifth-year students were concentrating intently and scribbling away with their quills. The rustling sound of the quills on the parchment almost drowned out the tapping sound of Madam Pince's footsteps as she made her rounds. When Neville came to find us, his face was paler than that of a ghost. He looked as if he had been severely tortured, and he was trembling slightly from head to toe.
"Are you all right?" Hermione asked worriedly. Madam Pince's sharp eyes, like those of an eagle, swept over us at once. We had to quickly pack up our half-finished homework and leave the library. "You look – "
"I, I've discovered something." Neville shook his head. He seemed to be desperately enduring the pain. He said to Harry, "Do you remember I once told you that I always dream about a door... And when Mr. Weasley was attacked... he was also guarding that door..."
"You also said you wanted to push it open." Harry nodded. "We remember that."
"When I was in class just now... well... Professor Snape asked me to empty my mind. I actually didn't really know how to do it. Anyway, he asked me to resist his intrusion... Of course, I was terrible at it. He saw a lot of my memories, and then there was a memory of me going to the Ministry of Magic last summer vacation to apply for the transfer of my parents. " There was no one else in the corridor except us, and Neville's whisper reached all of our ears clearly. "I realized that I had seen that door before. Mr. Weasley even introduced it to me and said that it was... the Department of Mysteries."
Hermione suddenly stopped in her tracks, and Taurus, who was walking behind her, almost bumped into her. She frowned tightly, obviously trying to recall something, and then let out a long sigh.
"Sturgis Podmore," she said calmly. We all looked at her in confusion. She seemed a bit disappointed. "He attempted to break into a door in the Ministry of Magic! Remember this crime? I think that door is the one Neville mentioned, the door to the Department of Mysteries."
"But he's one of us," Ron quickly pointed out the problem. "Why would he want to break in?"
"Remember what the adults said, that they were on duty and there was some 'weapon'?" Taurus seemed very excited. "Hey, so is that 'weapon' hidden in the Department of Mysteries? I've never heard my mother talk about that department. It seems that no one knows what they do there."
"Dad only said that the people who work in the Department of Mysteries are called 'the Slient Ones'." Ron shrugged. "It sounds like they won't say anything to the outside world, right?"
"Do you need to go to the hospital wing, Neville?" I looked at Neville worriedly, whose face was pale and ashen. He pursed his lips tightly, as if he would vomit as soon as he relaxed.
"I don't think Madam Pomfrey is very good at dealing with this." He replied weakly. "I... don't like Occlumency."
"We should go back and take a rest for a while." I felt a pang of guilt looking at Neville. Even though my father is extremely proficient in delving into an entirely unfamiliar field from scratch, I have to say that he isn't very good at teaching a student who is starting from zero. My father is an excellent and powerful wizard, but he has never realized that such excellence is a very rare and precious quality. In other words, my father has a rather obvious flaw. He takes excellence for granted and has a hard time accepting the mediocrity of others. I think it's precisely because of this that he hasn't won the love of many ordinary students.
However, the common room was bustling with noise. The Weasley twins were excitedly demonstrating the latest products of their joke shop to the Gryffindors – headless hats that cost two Galleons each. The wonderful demonstration elicited bursts of screams and applause. Even Hermione was distracted and began to think about what kind of improved Invisibility Charm could achieve such a sustained local effect.
"I want to go back to the dormitory." Neville looked listless and seemed not very interested in all the excitement around him. "Professor Snape also asked me to practice... I need to think about it..."
"I'll go and stay with him for a while. He doesn't look well." Harry stood up as well. Ron and Taurus, who didn't feel like doing their homework either, also got up. Hermione reminded them to write down all the unfinished homework in their planners – perhaps because I told her that planners were really useful, she bought one for each of the boys at Christmas (but they obviously didn't seem to like this gift very much).
"I remember, Iris, you have a set of notes on Occlumency." After the boys left, Hermione, who had persisted in finishing a huge pile of homework assigned by Umbridge amidst the boiling noise, suddenly asked me, "Could the things in those notes help Neville?"
"I think they can." I lowered my eyes and avoided Hermione's gaze. "But that part of the notes isn't with me at the moment."
"You've left Professor Snape's things with Malfoy all this time?" I think Hermione was desperately trying to hold back from shouting. The fear and reproach in her eyes were almost overflowing. "Have you ever thought that if – and this is very likely! – Malfoy gives that notebook to You-Know-Who? You've actually left it in his hands all this time?"
"He won't give it back to me." I said miserably. "You kind of know his temper. Besides, all of my father's personal belongings are under a counter-summoning spell, and I can't summon it back directly. I was worried that he would use Reparo to restore the contents of Legilimency, so I used Sectumsempra to cut the notebook apart – and then I couldn't put it back together myself. I really want to help Neville, and I'm trying to find a way."
"I don't know what Malfoy's temper is like. I just think he's a jerk." Hermione was silent for a moment and then said, "I think you don't want to face him, so you've been putting this off."
"I can't just break into his dormitory and rummage through his things to steal the notes back, can I?" I replied a bit sharply. "I'm really sorry that I didn't have the ability to foresee how things would turn out back then."
"I didn't mean to..." Hermione looked a bit flustered. "It's okay. We can – "
"I'm trying to find a way." I was a bit annoyed and stood up to pack my schoolbag. "Don't involve those boys. They might make things... even more complicated."
Things always change faster than people can imagine. The next day, Hermione opened the just-arrived Daily Prophet while sipping her cereal (even though we've lost all interest in anything it says since there was a column article hinting vaguely that Mr. Potter was suspected of accepting bribes, Hermione still insists on subscribing to it). She only glanced at the front page before letting out a scream and knocking over her cereal bowl.
"What's wrong?" The boys looked like they hadn't slept well last night, and their voices still carried a thick trace of sleepiness.
Hermione spread the newspaper on the table. Today's front page was filled with ten black-and-white photos. Nine wizards and one witch, with their hair tangled and their faces gaunt, stared back at us. Their faces wore either arrogant or crazy smiles.
"You're kidding." Ron said weakly. His fingers ran across Antonin Dolohov's pale and twisted long face. The densely packed text below the photo noted that he had brutally killed the Prewett brothers.
Hermione didn't seem to be as familiar with these names as we were. We grew up hearing the names of these Death Eaters. In a sense, their reputations were just as terrifying as that of You-Know-Who himself. Taurus's face was contorted with anger. He gritted his teeth so hard that they chattered, and while cracking his knuckles, he stared at the photos in the newspaper, trying his best to hold back from tearing the newspaper into pieces directly.
"Calm down." Harry patted Taurus on the elbow. A muscle on Taurus's cheek twitched dangerously. He took a deep breath before continuing to drink the milk in his cup.
"It's not all bad that they escaped." He said in a menacing tone. "Now we have a chance to avenge Uncle and Aunt... and my cousins whom I've never even met."
"Taurus!" Hermione reproached him to stop him from saying more inappropriate things.
Neville hadn't said a word all this time. His eyes seemed to be glued to the photo of the only witch on the newspaper. The woman with swollen eyelids and disheveled hair looked at him contemptuously. There was still a hint of the Black family features on her face. Taurus gave Bellatrix Lestrange a look of disgust and lost all appetite.
"I feel filthy just thinking that there's something similar in the blood running through my veins to hers," he said bluntly.
"What does the Ministry of Magic say?" Harry could only read the words on the newspaper upside down, which obviously caused him a lot of difficulty in reading.
"What can they say?" Taurus said sharply. "Fudge must be really regretting kicking James out early. It would be great if he could pin this big mess on our side – I bet that's all that's in his head made of dragon dung."
"Minister Cornelius Fudge admitted that there was a large-scale prison break in Azkaban and informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the danger posed by the escaped prisoners," Hermione read. "He believes that there may have been external assistance in this prison break, such as those with close blood relations to the escaped prisoners... Oh, no – he actually..."
"What's wrong?" Ron's voice was trembling, because Taurus looked like he was about to flip over the Gryffindor table at any moment.
"The Ministry of Magic refused to admit that the suspension of Amelia Black, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has a direct connection with Bellatrix Lestrange's escape (Amelia Black's husband, Sirius Black, and this serious criminal are cousins). However, it is widely believed in the wizarding community that it is necessary for the Ministry of Magic to keep an eye on the Blacks, and this also maximally guarantees their safety."
"Bellatrix Lestrange has more than just one cousin," Harry said sarcastically. "Why don't they protect the Malfoys at the same time?"
"What about Tonks?" I suddenly thought of Tonks' mother and quickly asked Hermione. "Was she also suspended?"
"For now... there's no mention of it." Hermione quickly skimmed through the whole article. "Think about it, Mr. Potter was suspended, and your mother was also transferred... I think they don't have enough Aurors right now. They can't spare the time to deal with a young Auror like Tonks who has just joined and has no power entanglements – God, do you remember Mr. Bode?"
"Sorry, who?" Harry asked.
"The clerk who works in the Department of Mysteries that we met in St. Mungo's Hospital before – he was in the same ward as Professor Lockhart." Hermione folded the tenth page and pointed it out to us. "He was strangled to death by a potted plant."
"Did he mistake the Christmas Cactus for Devil's Snare?" Ron frowned. "Merlin, that's really bad luck. I remember the healer kept saying he was almost recovered."
"What if it wasn't just bad luck?" Hermione seemed to startle herself with her own speculation. "What if someone did it on purpose... then it can't be found out, right? An anonymous Christmas gift. The newspaper said that St. Mungo's has no clues so far."
The atmosphere in the school didn't change at first. Most people didn't have the habit of reading newspapers, and they were still happily discussing Exploding Snap, Wizard's Chess, and the latest popular magazines. Taurus became much more silent – since being monitored by the Ministry of Magic, Mr. Black had stopped contacting him through the two-way mirror. Hermione was busy writing letters to someone she didn't know who to send them to. The news that Hagrid was put on probation once again irritated Harry and the others.
"They really spare no effort," Harry said sarcastically when he saw the Twenty-sixth Educational Decree on the college notice board that read, "Teachers are prohibited from providing students with any information unrelated to the subjects they teach." "They really understand thoroughly where the enemy is."
"Look on the bright side," now it was Ron's turn to take on the task of comforting everyone. "More people are believing what Neville and you said! After our class that day, two little girls from the lower grades ran over and gave Neville a flower. Although it was all crumpled up."
"And everyone in D.A. is training even harder," I nodded. "Although we can't have a gathering every night as they suggested."
In order to prevent everyone from feeling frustrated because of the slow progress of the Patronus Charm, we now divide the one-hour gathering into three parts. The first twenty minutes are used to review the spells we learned before. The second twenty minutes are for learning some protective spells, such as the Shield Charm that can bounce some small hexes back at the caster. The last twenty minutes are for further studying the Patronus Charm. Everyone has made great progress, especially Neville. Once, he even knocked me back so hard that I fell heavily on the cushion.
But his progress in Occlumency wasn't so smooth. In his words, "It seems that the determination I made out of anger doesn't work at all. Professor Snape even said that I'm regressing." He looked confused and helpless, and every time he came back from class, he seemed on the verge of collapse. January passed by like flowing water amidst all kinds of trivial matters, and his condition didn't improve much.
"Emotions may not be conducive to closing your mind," I could only try to help Neville with the few words I could remember.
"But I can't help it," Neville looked desperate. "When I think of those people... the ones who tortured my parents, and they've escaped..."
"I'll think of another way," I said restlessly. "You try a little harder, and I'll think of something else..."
I didn't dare to use the Legilimency spell to practice with Neville during our spare time. He already looked very fragile, and I couldn't control the degree of Legilimency at all. When I practiced with Draco before, countless times it was he who pulled me out of the whirlpool of memories when I was in a panic. I hadn't opened the remaining half of the notebook since last summer vacation.
Was I really going to break into the Slytherin common room to get the notes back? I found myself seriously considering this absurd idea. Hermione had said before that girls could enter the boys' dormitories... Did that mean that as long as I could get into the Slytherin common room, I could enter Draco's dormitory?
"Can you meet me in Hogsmeade on the weekend, Neville?" Hermione walked in from outside holding a letter. Neville looked confused but still nodded in agreement.
"I'm not going to Hogsmeade," I said without thinking. "I'm a bit behind with my homework, and I still haven't finished reviewing History of Magic."
"Ron and the others also have Quidditch training," Hermione nodded. "Then Harry and I will wait for you at the Three Broomsticks, Neville."
"Location of the common room, password, Polyjuice Potion, empty dormitory." I wrote down a few words on the blank parchment and then began to frown in thought. I stared at "Polyjuice Potion" for a while, crossed it out, and wrote "Invisibility Cloak" instead. I didn't think it was a good idea to brew an illegal potion when Umbridge was trying her best to restore Fudge's prestige in the school. There was a whole month's time when I might be caught, and it might cause a lot of trouble for my father – Hagrid and Professor Trelawney had already been put on probation. The first two problems might be solved at the same time, but I had to make sure that there was no one in the Slytherin boys' dormitory when I rummaged through their things. When would such a situation occur?
"When is the next Quidditch match?" I looked up and asked Harry.
"Next week," Harry looked a bit surprised. "Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff."
"The team that beats Slytherin will play against the winner, right?" I thought for a moment and asked. "Is that the rule of this round-robin?"
"No, whether we win or not, Slytherin will play against Hufflepuff in the next match," Harry explained. "The House Cup is calculated based on the total points in the end."
"Oh, I don't understand it at all." I lowered my head and put a tick next to "dormitory" – the risk was still there, but it was worth a try.