Chapter 1: a/n
Chapter Text
disclaimer
hey gang, chunkerror here. I was initially going to upload this after Dugan's story, but all except the first chapter has been lost to time, unfortunately. It was the first fanfic I ever wrote, at around age 12, and I hope the length of this piece makes up for missing Dugan's backstory--which, written by an idealistic kid grasping at the first rungs of a ladder leading into the world of literature, wasn't really that great anyways. This piece is probably the most graphic of the bunch, featuring the standard lacunaverse CWs, as well as implied SA and very gorey moments, the worst of which will likely have CWs before the chapters they're in. Whereas Dugan was written at age 12, Annabel at around 14, and Poppy starting at 20 and into the present day, Siobhan's story was written during ages 16-19, also the time period where my irl life was going through some bad stuff; this, like all the other works under the lacuna umbrella (the stories of the original four can also be referred to as the Four Heroes), is a representation of the traumas and issues I was experiencing at the time of writing; i'm normally pretty relaxed about graphic content, but two specific moments in this piece require a stronger warning:
[spoilers]
Siobhan's discovery of the third abducted first-year (extreme gore), and her encounter with the Antis in the Forbidden Forest (implied SA, is later referenced in a threatening manner as well). Of the four heroes, Siobhan and Poppy are probably the closest to a direct self-insert, and you can even start to see the ideas about timeline manipulation and something bigger than "just" a small group of death eaters, or what have you; for example, Siobhan's battle at the ministry includes her finding, in the hall of prophecies, that her prophecy has four glass orb things instead of one (idk if theres a canon name for them and idrc about canon or the original author at this point, if it wasn't obvious based on Lacuna). Fun fact: there were actually six heroes at one point, including a Hufflepuff Dark Witch whomaybe a bit familiar at least in name--Arabella Swift--and a Gryffindor vampire, Bran Rhydderch (who is referenced in Annabel's middle name when filling out paperwork for a new Gringotts vault). From them came the first two major rules of the series, at least in terms of characters: None of the four heroes can become vampires, and none of them can die [at the time of writing this, one of those has been broken in spectacular fashion during lacuna vol 2 ;)] I'm also considering uploading a doc with all the various rules of magic and plot that i operate by, as a bit of a bonus thing. Enjoy, and as always, drink water!!
(more uploaded soon; college be stressful)
Chapter 2: The Spellweaver
Chapter Text
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin,First Class,Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Ms. Ollivander,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1.Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2.One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3.One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4.One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils’ clothes should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
“Mum! Mum! I finally got it!” I dashed into her room, waving my Hogwarts letter frantically.
“Congratulations, Siobhan! I’m so proud of you. We should probably start thinking about stopping by Diagon Alley to get your books and things. What house do you think you’ll be placed into?” I flopped onto the bed, and she took the letter from me, perusing it as I spoke into the mattress.
“Gryffindor, just like you and mom!” She laughed, ruffling my hair, and climbed out of bed, leaving me there as she got dressed.
Later that week, we were in Diagon Alley, popping from store to store, picking up different items that I needed for my first year. As we walked by Florean Fortescue’s, he was sitting by a small stand out front, selling samples of ice cream.
“Another first year, eh? How about a sundae, on me?” I glanced up at my mother, who nodded encouragingly, and I skipped over to his stand, watching in awe as he waved his wand, the sundae assembling itself onto the paper bowl. I thanked him eagerly as he handed it to me, and with a kind smile, he turned to help someone else that had stepped up to the stand. Once I’d returned to my parents, we resumed shopping, stopping by Ollivander’s in order for me to get my wand, something I was very excited about. The shop was old, and a little musty, but I was entranced by the towering shelves of boxes, each with little labels written in a delicate font. Ollivander himself stepped out from a row of shelves after I hopped up to ring the bell, catching sight of my parents and smiling benignly.
“Ah, Sophie, Emily! What brings you to my store today?” My mother leaned on the counter, shaking his hand.
“Picking up a wand for Siobhan. How have you been, uncle?” He caught sight of me, and reached out an old, thin hand to shake my hand as well.
“Very good. Oh, how the time flies. It was only yesterday that I attended your parents’ wedding, and the day before I sold them their wands. Well, in the case of Emily, her first wand…” I giggled, while she shot him a joking glare.
“Ah, let’s get you measured, shall we?” He waved his wand, and a measuring tape appeared in a puff of smoke, taking various measurements of me as he spoke.
“I suspect you’ll want to be in Gryffindor, like your parents?” I nodded, and the measuring tape vanished in a puff of smoke. He vanished into the shelves, muttering to himself as he did.
“Hm… Let’s see here, perhaps… No, maybe this? Ah, perfect.” He returned with two boxes, setting one down lightly and opening the other one.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase ‘The wand chooses the wizard,’ have you not? Sophie being an apprentice wandmaker, and all. This first wand is Applewood and Dragon Heartstring, ten inches. Unyielding.” I took it, and waved it. With a loud bang, a glass trinket exploded, and he hurriedly took it from me, repairing the trinket with a flick of his wand while I apologized profusely.
“Nothing to worry about, dear. I have seen much the same in many years. Now, this wand. Redwood and Unicorn Tail Hair, 13 ¼ inches. Pliant.” I took it from him, and as soon as I gripped it, I felt a warmth flow up my arm. I grinned toothily at him, and he chuckled, pointing at my hair, which I realized was floating around me like I was underwater. I blushed again, and he packaged the wand, wishing me luck on my first year. After Ollivander’s, we went to get my robes fitted, which took a little bit, as Madam Malkin was a bit overworked with all of the first years coming in. I sat and waited for a little bit, alone (my parents had gone to get a barn owl for me), until another family came in.
“Hello! Are you getting your robes fitted too?” The kid, a young boy with slicked back blond hair, snorted.
“Of course we are. Why else would we be here?” I shrugged, and held out a hand.
“Siobhan Ollivander. It’s nice to meet you.” He looked down at my hand, eyebrow raised quizzically, before shaking it.
“Draco Malfoy.” Madam Malkin returned, calling me to get fitted, so I waved to him, walking past with my robes and waving again before meeting up with my parents by Flourish and Blott’s, cooing excitedly at the barn owl they’d gotten, who I decided I’d name Angharad. Once we’d gotten a few quills and some parchment, we headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, me telling them about the new friend I’d made at Madam Malkin’s.
“Malfoy? They’re a pretty old family, you know. Slytherin through and through.” I frowned.
“So? He seemed nice, if kinda weird.” My mum shrugged, and, after getting lunch at the Leaky Cauldron (which was always a spectacle, my mother being an Animagus and needing three people’s worth of food to be full), we headed out among rumors that Harry Potter was starting at Hogwarts this year.
“Did you know his parents?” Mum nodded.
“James and Lily, yes. Your mother had the biggest crush on James for the longest time, since they both played Quidditch for Gryffindor.” She reddened, and smacked her on the shoulder as we Disapparated to our home village, a little wizarding hamlet on the coast of Wales. Once everything was either put up or packed into my trunk, I spent some time playing with Angharad, her soft demeanor and low-energy a perfect match to mine.
Finally, the day had come, and I lugged my trunk along, puffing with effort as Angharad lazily hooted with each bump. We stopped outside of the wall that led to the platform, since my parents had run into Molly and Arthur Weasley, who’d been in their later years at Hogwarts when my parents had started. They had several kids with them, all easily Weasleys due to the bright red hair, and I was poked in the cheek by one of the older ones.
“What’s your name?” I huffed, still catching my breath from carrying my trunk.
“Siobhan. What’s yours?” He cracked a grin.
“I’m Fred.” Just then, another boy that looked identical to him appeared on my other side.
“No, I’m Fred. You’re George.” Sensing that this was going to go on forever, I sighed, leaning on my trunk as a slightly younger Weasley sidled up to me.
“Sorry about them. I’m Ron, by the way.” I shook his hand, smiling.
“Siobhan. It’s okay, I don’t have any siblings. Must be nice, right?” He rolled his eyes.
“Maybe not with those two. Did you hear about Harry Potter? He’s starting at Hogwarts this year.” I nodded eagerly.
“I want to get an autograph if I can. My parents wouldn’t believe I’d even talked to him unless I did.” He nodded in agreement, and we headed through the wall as my parents finished their conversation with Ron’s. The Hogwarts Express was bright red and black, smoke billowing out of the front car, and Fred (or George) helped me load my trunk into a cabin before I said goodbye to my parents.
“Be sure to write us every week. We’ll write you every week too, alright? Let us know if you need anything that we can send up.” I hugged both of them, and dashed off into the train, leaning out of my cabin window as the whistle sounded.
“Love you!” They waved back, and I leaned back into the cabin after a moment, helping Ron stow our luggage on the racks before sitting. “What house d’you think you’ll be in?” He shrugged.
“All the Weasleys are in Gryffindor. ‘Spect I’ll end up there too. You?” I nodded in agreement.
“Gryffindor as well. Both my parents were in it.” I then remembered my other friend, and hopped out of my seat.
“Be right back! I’m going to go see another first-year I met in Diagon Alley.” He nodded, pulling out a comic book as I left. It took a few minutes, but I eventually found Malfoy, sitting in a cabin with a few other people.
“Hi Draco! How’re you?” He sniffed, the others shooting me curious or dismissive looks.
“Well enough, I suppose. Why are you here?” I frowned.
“Well, we’re friends, so I figured I’d come hang out for a little bit.” After a moment of thought, he sighed.
“Sure. Crabbe, make room.” I slid into the seat next to Crabbe, a bulky, surly looking boy, and after a moment they resumed their conversation.
“Father says that they can start remodeling my rooms once they get back from King’s Cross. I decided on a Tudor theme, among all the basic necessities, of course.” A girl, a bit shorter than me, with wavy black hair, spoke up, eyeing me curiously.
“How have you designed your rooms, er…” I smiled brightly, holding out a hand.
“Siobhan. Our house is a bit Gothic, but my rooms are more ‘Greek Revival,’ I would say.” A chorus of appreciative nods came from the others, and I chided myself for bragging about my family’s wealth (the Ollivanders are one of the 28 Pureblood families, and with my mother being an apprentice wandmaker, we weren’t short for money), and continued on.
“But it isn’t that grand of a house.” Another girl, this one with straight black hair and a bit of an obnoxious face, piped up.
“How many rooms does it have?” I thought for a moment.
“It’s built over several acres, but I think each wing has ten rooms, with the main hall having twenty, so forty, I think. Not counting the greenhouses, or the other buildings, of course. Living on Ollivander’s Heath is a bit dreary at times, but I still like it.” They shared some impressed looks, and Draco leaned over.
“I suppose you’re hoping for Slytherin, then? All the Pureblood families are there.” I shrugged.
“Both of my parents were in Gryffindor, so I’d like to follow in their footsteps. But who knows where I’ll end up, eh?” He seemed happy with that answer, and I sighed.
“Well, I’ll see you all at the Feast, then? I should get back to my other friends.” I waved goodbye to them, and headed back to Ron, who’d made a couple friends while I was gone.
“I’m Hermione Granger. All of this is quite new to me, since my parents are both dentists. You are?” I shook her hand.
“Siobhan Ollivander. It’s nice to meet you.” Ron choked on a Pumpkin Pasty.
“You’re an Ollivander? Aren’t they one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain?” I blushed.
“Y-Yes. Since 382 BCE, if you believe the sign at my great-uncle’s shop.” The other person, a boy with a mop of black hair and a pair of glasses, held out a hand.
“Harry Potter. You’re related to the Ollivander that makes wands? That’s pretty neat.” My jaw dropped, and I shook his hand weakly.
“You’re Harry Potter?!” With a resigned sigh, he nodded, flipping up his hair to reveal the lightning bolt scar.
“I should start wearing a nametag.” I debated asking for his autograph, but I decided against it for the time being, since he obviously was getting fed up with being singled out. We spent the rest of the train ride joking around, the boys leaving the cabin while Hermione and I changed, facing away from each other. Once all of us were in our robes, I peered out of the window, catching sight of the train station in the distance.
“I’m quite excited to start at Hogwarts. I’ve heard so much about it from my mums.” Harry scowled.
“I haven’t. I grew up with my uncle’s family, who’re all Muggles, and mean ones at that.” Hermione started droning on about Hogwarts, a History, to the point that I was grateful when we pulled into the station. I hurried off, excited to see the castle, and bumped into an older girl, almost knocking a book from her hands.
“Watch it! If we were in the castle, I’d dock you points for not minding where you’re going.” I reddened, and apologized hurriedly over my shoulder, meeting up with Draco and the others as they followed a huge, bearded man towards a dock.
“Want to ride the boat with us, Siobhan?” I shrugged, and once we were climbing into the wooden boats, I sat with Draco and the other two girls, who introduced themselves as Pansy Parkinson (obnoxious face) and Daphne Greengrass (wavy hair). We chatted idly as the boats took off, but all of our voices fell silent as we came into view of the castle, which stood majestically before us in the night sky, different windows twinkling with candlelight.
“Mum always said it was beautiful, but… she never did it justice, I guess.” Daphne nodded, and we marveled at the castle for a while longer, until our boat made it to a dock at the foot of the cliff it was built on.
“Alright, firs’ years, follow me.” The crowd of people followed him up a long staircase, which wound up to the castle proper, passing by a group of older students who appeared to be doing a head count of all of us as we passed.
“Those are the new prefects, I expect. As well as Head Boy and Head Girl.” The older girl I’d bumped into raised an eyebrow at me as I passed, and I fastidiously avoided eye contact, choosing instead to gaze up at the castle, which, even though we were now on the ground level, still towered above us. We were brought into a hallway before a massive set of doors, and told to wait, prefects at the front, and Draco turned.
“I’m off to find Harry Potter. Would any of you like to join me?” I shook my head, having met him earlier, and neither Pansy nor Daphne seemed to have any interest in meeting him either, so we stayed where we were.
“Father says that he’ll send me up a new eagle feather quill once I’m sorted into Slytherin. I suspect it’ll be the new one they have on display at Flourish and Blotts.” I smoothed the front of my robes, not particularly enthused to get into another bragging contest, but was saved by the appearance of several ghosts, who popped through the walls, chatting amicably.
“Ah, hello there! You all must be first years. I’m Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.” This from a man wearing a knight’s armor, who beamed genially down at all of us. The man with him, who appeared to be a monk of some kind, grinned excitedly at us as well. “And you may call me the Friar. We’re the house ghosts of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, respectively. It’s so good to meet all of you! Even though you might not be sorted into my house…” He ended his sentence with a guffaw, and I grinned despite of myself, thoroughly enjoying the energy he had. As Pansy began to resume speaking, the doors in front of us opened, and Draco sidled back up, scowling.
“Didn’t go very well?” He shot me a glare, and I snorted, following the prefects into the massive room beyond, which had to be the Great Hall. Four long tables packed full of students led up to a table I assumed was for teachers, and candles hovered up above everyone, providing light. The ceiling itself had to be enchanted, since it was showing the sky above the castle, and as we came to a stop at the front of the room, near the staff table, I saw a wooden stool with an old, tattered hat on it.
“That must be the Sorting Hat. Apparently it-“ Once more, Pansy was interrupted by the hat itself, which opened a tear near it’s base, and began to sing.
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
There was a moment of applause, then an older, stern-looking woman began reading names from a roll of parchment. Both Daphne and Draco were sorted into Slytherin, and when it was my turn, I hopped up onto the stool eagerly, wanting to be in Gryffindor.
“Hm… interesting… Not very cunning, are we? Wouldn’t make a good Slytherin, then. But you’re still ambitious, it seems. And, you have a knack for figuring things out as they happen. Better be, RAVENCLAW!” The older lady took the Sorting Hat off of me, and I walked over to Ravenclaw’s table, not exactly happy, since I wasn’t in Gryffindor, but Ravenclaw was still a good house. I sat next to a boy with short brown hair, who introduced himself as the other first-years were sorted.
“Terry Boot. I’m a first-year, like you. It’s nice to meet you.” I shook his hand.
“Siobhan Ollivander. It’s nice to meet you too.” He smiled, and another first-year, who introduced herself as Padma Patil, sat across from us.
“You didn’t seem too enthused when the Sorting Hat put you in Ravenclaw, from what I could tell.” I introduced myself to Padma before responding.
“I wanted to be in Gryffindor, like my parents. It’s not that big of a deal, really.” Just then, Harry Potter was called up, and all conversation died down as he sat on the stool. After a decently long time, the Sorting Hat placed him into Gryffindor, to thunderous applause from their table. An older looking boy sighed, and shook his head.
“Shame. The boy wonder gets wasted on a house like that.” Before he continued, a girl in his year rolled her eyes.
“Remember how the Hat couldn’t decide whether or not to put you in Gryffindor last year, Eddie?” He reddened, and stumbled through a retort as Dumbledore finished speaking, which I giggled under my breath at. The table in front of me filled with food, and I happily dug in, getting to know the other first years that had sat down next to me. Terry Boot was related to the founders of the American wizarding school, Ilvermorny, but his parents had lived in England for all of his life, so he ended up at Hogwarts. He was tall for our age, and lanky, but his wand was a short, stubby piece of wood that had been a gift from his parents on his eleventh birthday. Padma was a pureblood, like me, and her sister, Parvati, had been sorted into Gryffindor. The other Ravenclaw first-years were Mandy Brocklehurst, a girl with light-brown hair; Michael Corner, a boy with short black hair and dark gray eyes; Anthony Goldstein, who had blond hair and brown eyes, whose laugh I could hear half a table away; Sue Li, a positively teeny tiny girl with long black hair; Isobel MacDougal, another pureblood, with a pixie cut and golden-brown eyes; and finally Lisa Turpin, who I didn’t see much of, since she was sitting at the far end of the table.
“I expect you all will be good friends by the end of this year. If not friends, then competitors.” This from Eddie Carmichael, who dodged an elbow from a the same girl who’d spoken earlier.
“Marietta, you know I’m right. In-house competition is important for Ravenclaw.” She rolled her eyes, and looked over at us through a mane of shaggy red hair.
“He’s just jealous your year has so many. There’s only four of us second-years, you see. Him, me, Cho, and Marcus.” I nodded into my plate, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the new information, and finished the rest of my food as desserts began to appear on the table.
“What’s your name? Must be exciting, starting at Hogwarts.” I smiled up at Marietta, and replied quietly.
“Siobhan. It’s nice to meet you.” She nodded encouragingly, but we were interrupted by Eddie, who spoke around a mouthful of ice cream.
“Marietta, ask that first-year to pass the trifle, will you?” She rolled her eyes as I handed him the platter.
“Eddie is a bit… boorish, at times, but our house as a whole is quite refined, you’ll find. We even have our own sorting within the house after the feast.” This piqued my interest, and I asked her about it as the feast wound to a close.
“I can’t tell you about it until after. Sworn to secrecy, and all. Now, follow Robert. He’ll lead you to the common room.” I noticed that the other first-years were slowly making their way to the doors, and followed, falling into step with Padma as we made up the rear of the group, following an older boy with a prefect badge. The journey through the castle was long, and ended in a winding staircase that seemed to go on forever. Once we were at the top landing, I saw that the door in front of us didn’t have a knob, only a knocker. Robert explained this in front of us, making sure everyone could hear.
“The door to the Ravenclaw common room doesn’t bother with silly passwords or secret contraptions. You will knock,” he did so, “and answer the question correctly to gain entrance.” Suddenly, the knocker sprung to life, and spoke to him.
“What is the use of the Tracking Spell?” Robert turned back to us.
“The knocker will ask you questions based on your probable knowledge, so none of you will be asked about such an advanced charm, at least until you’re my age. The Tracking Spell is used to reveal traces of magic, including footprints and track marks.” The knocker smiled in reply, and swung inward, revealing the Ravenclaw common room. It was a wide, circular room with graceful arched windows that punctuated the walls which were hung with blue and bronze silks and a midnight blue carpet covered in stars, which was reflected onto the domed ceiling. The room was furnished with blue tables, chairs, and a divan. Next to the door leading up to the dormitories stood a tall statue of a tall woman in regal dressmade of white marble. According to Robert, who spoke as we entered, the sound of wind whistling around the windows of the tower was relaxing while going to sleep. Once we’d all assembled in the middle of the room, other years beginning to trickle in, Robert spoke.
“Now, for your second sorting; that is, sorting within the Ravenclaw house. Each of you was chosen for our grand house on your intelligence, but there is more than one kind of intelligence among the witches and wizards of the world. There are eight houses within Ravenclaw, and they are as-follows: Logic, those who can quickly solve problems of any shapes and size; Linguistic, who are quite usually those who discover new spells or master spellwork quickly; Semantic, the great navigators and adventurers; Music,” his tone became slightly derisive, “Those who find magic within music itself, the drummer of the Weird Sisters being a prime example; Kinesthetic, powerful duellers who are graceful and can almost learn new spells when watching them be cast; Intra-Personic, one who understands themselves above all others, along with its sister, Inter-Personic, one who understands others; and Naturalistic, those who study animals, magical or no, and find joy in the world around us. You will each be sorted into one of these houses after a brief examination by Talbott Winger and Badeea Ali, our two highest O.W.L. scorers.” The two older kids stepped out of the crowd, and the nine of us were herded into a line in the center. As the two sixth-years made their way through the line, myself being a bit towards the end, I could tell that the other first-years felt as terrified as I did. Anthony, Isobel, and Lisa were sorted into Logic, which I felt was a more common house than the others, while Sue was sorted into Inter-Personic, Mandy into Semantic, and finally it was my turn. They both took turns poking me with their wands, muttering back and forth as they examined me, leaving me feel more like a curio than a person. After some deliberation, Talbott spoke.
“Linguistic.” A chorus of gasps filled the room, and I looked back and forth between the two sixth-years, terrified that I’d done something wrong. Robert spoke up, giving me the distinct idea that he was a presenter of sorts:
“Don’t worry, Siobhan. There hasn’t been a Linguistic in over three centuries. 1706, if I remember correctly?” A few older students nodded, and Badeea smiled down at me.
“I’m sure you’ll perform admirably.” Talbott rolled his eyes.
“We all know you can see the future, quit trying to sound wise.” Badeea had been mouthing what he’d said in perfect time back to him, and at my confused look, she chuckled.
“I can see at most ten seconds into the future. Don’t worry, I mean it when I say it.” Talbott shot her a joking glare, and they moved on, sorting Michael, Padma, and Terry into Naturalistic, Intra-Personic, and Kinesthetic respectively. Once we’d all been sorted, Robert spoke again.
“Congratulations, all of you. Welcome to Ravenclaw.” A chorus of cheers broke out, and I blushed, looking down at my robes until it had died down. Once the ceremony was over, people filtered out, either going to their dormitories or to different seats around the room, some sitting around a fireplace. I glanced at the other first-years warily, and headed up to the girls’ dorm along with the other girls. It was spacious, and I noticed that our trunks had been moved up to our rooms. Lisa spoke up as we moved over to change for bed.
“House elves must’ve moved them up. Did you know that Hogwarts employs a large number of house elves in their kitchens?” I rolled my eyes, slipping into bed, looking up at the ceiling, excited. I drew my curtains around me, muffling the conversation somewhat, and sighed happily, excited for what the next day had to bring.
I sleepily opened my eyes due to the incessant pulling on my leg by someone that was about to be hexed, and scowled, drawing my wand.
“What do you want?” The hand let go of my foot, and Padma stuck her head into the curtains.
“Going to get breakfast. Want to come?” I nodded, and rolled out of bed gently onto the floor, wrapped up in my sheet.
“Ugh. I don’t think I have the strength to go on.” She giggled, and shook her head.
“I’ll be in the common room.” It took me about ten minutes to get dressed, and once I was somewhat presentable in the mirror I headed downstairs, finding Padma waiting with Marietta and Isobel.
“Figured I’d go with you, since the castle can be very confusing to first-years.” We headed out, Marietta talking idly as we walked.
“You’ll get your schedules tomorrow morning, the day classes start. Most Ravenclaws are either in the library, our common room, or the Great Hall. Most of the seventh-years will be with professors, since they take their N.E.W.T.s this year.” We wound our way back down the staircase, me dreading having to go up and down it every day, and through the corridors.
“I’d expect that you will run into Professor Flitwick at some point today – He’s our head of house, and he likes to pop in to meet the new students. Do any of you like Quidditch?” Isobel nodded her head, and Marietta smiled.
“Since first-years can’t own a broomstick, and you most likely wouldn’t make the team your first year, talk to Roger Davies, our Quidditch Captain, about an apprenticeship. Essentially, you’ll be studying both the history of Quidditch and also technique, in order to get you better prepared for trying out.” A few students nodded to us as we passed, and eventually we made it to the Great Hall, which was half-full of groggy students. Finding a seat at the Ravenclaw table was easy, and we dug into breakfast. I spied an older boy in Hufflepuff sitting a ways down, deep in discussion with a few Ravenclaws, and pointed it out to Marietta.
“Oh, students can drift between tables if they choose. We only have to sit at our house’s table for holiday feasts and things like that. He’s actually working on an Herbology project with those three and a Slytherin. Supposedly they’re close to a single-use herbicide for Venemous Tentacula.” I nodded in appreciation, and ate a small breakfast, not particularly hungry. We were joined by the other first-years, some of whom had plans to go to the library, others going for a walk by the lake. Padma and Isobel quickly joined the group going to the lake, and I decided I’d rather go back to the common room, so I walked back with Marietta.
“Hopefully this weather holds up a bit longer.” It had been unseasonably warm, which I didn’t mind one bit, and I headed over to the section of the common room that served as the Ravenclaw library. I stepped into the alcove, and looked up in surprise, as the ceiling extended upward, shelf upon shelf of books above me. I called out to Marietta, who was by the fire, nervously.
“Er, Marietta, why are there so many shelves in here? I get it was an Expansion Charm, but why not just make it wider? I don’t know how to get a book down.” She stood, and walked over to me.
“This library is enchanted to give the person standing closest to it all of the books they will need to read in order to realize their full potential. Everyone has different book recommendations, and usually first-years have more shelves than a seventh-year. Why, how many shelves do you have?” I counted the rows, and replied shortly.
“Sixteen.” Her jaw dropped, and she stepped closer, still behind me, and counted.
“That’s… insane. Here, this is how many I have.” She stepped in front of me, and the shelves whirled, now revealing four rows of books. “This is normal for most students. There was one student in our history that only had one book, but no one has ever had this many.” I ogled her, and she raised an eyebrow.
“So? Start reading.” I jumped, and she laughed before leaving me to my devices. The first book I picked up off of the shelf was titled Quintessence: A Quest, and I carried the hefty tome over to where Marietta sat, plopping down into a chair and cracking it open.
“What did you get?” I showed her the cover of the book, and she smiled.
“Sounds fun.” When I shot her a look (it was a N.E.W.T. level Charms book) she snorted.
“Joking. I got Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration. Here.” She tossed me a small booklet, titled Thaddeus Wicklane’s Dictionary & Glossary for Witches and Wizards in a Hurry.
“Best investment I made last year. Just speak the word you don’t get into it, and it’ll define it for you.” I thanked her, then with a start asked her how much she wanted for it.
“Don’t worry. I got a new copy for my birthday, so you can have my old one.” I thanked her again, and started reading, the only noise both of us making was to say certain words to our booklets before lapsing into silence again. I noticed that I was using the booklet much more than she was, but I figured I would learn with time. I spent the rest of the day reading, becoming absorbed in the book as I understood more of it, only going down to dinner with Marietta, mentally fried.
“Get some food in you, and sleep. It’ll help you feel better.” I nodded, and dug into a large plate of food, talking to Marietta about Quintessence, which was a very long-winded book. She shared the pained look I gave her, and related to me the contents of her book, which went directly over my head. We were joined by some of the other first-years after a while, and I headed off early, feeling tired after a full day of learning.
Chapter 3: The Order of Coats
Chapter Text
9:00 Transfiguration
10:00 Charms
12:00 Lunch
1:00 History of Magic
2:00 Defense Against the Dark Arts
3:00 Potions
Life at Hogwarts was just as enchanting and incredible as I’d hoped it’d be. The paintings gave me directions whenever I got lost, sometimes walking through the other paintings to make sure I got to class, the ghosts told the best stories, and the Great Hall always had mouth-watering food. I wrote home almost daily, detailing all of the joy and excitement I felt exploring the castle, and my mums gave me advice on how not to get lost, as well as what teachers to ask for different things. They were happy that I was in Ravenclaw, though Emily joked that it was almost as good as Gryffindor, and I plowed through books, reading between classes and homework, as well as in bed before I fell asleep. I moved from Quintessence to Transformation Throughout the Ages and The Book of Charms and Spells in less than two weeks, beginning to figure out that the library was building a base of understanding for me in order to hone my ability to comprehend spellwork. As a result of this, my grades in Charms and Transfiguration did very well, but in Defense Against the Dark Arts I struggled a little. This was mostly due to the fact that Terry would incessantly bug me with jokes and notes, but I enjoyed it all the same. Flitwick was by far my favorite teacher, which was helped by his squeal of excitement when he found out I had been sorted as a Linguistic. From then on, he would always ask me questions about Charms that played to my strengths, or helped me develop the way in which I learned spells. History of Magic proved to be the most difficult class to pay attention in, since Professor Binn’s droning voice lulled me to sleep almost immediately, but I made do by just reading the books he was talking about. Eventually, the trees began to turn yellow and dark orange, fall coming into full swing, and I’d made decent progress in the library, finishing ten books in total. I had a good understanding of basic spellwork, such as why spells need to be pronounced a particular way, how that correlates with the movement of the wand, and things like that. The book I was currently reading in the Great Hall one morning was Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms, which had applications in the study of Ancient Runes. Padma practically fell into the seat across from me, pouring a large cup of tea, and sighed into a bowl of oatmeal.
“I think if the homework doesn’t kill me, the library will.” It was commonly known among Ravenclaws that the library was an unforgiving tutor, and I winced in sympathy.
“Same here. I feel like I’m already studying for my N.E.W.T.s even though they’re years off. But, it’s supposed to help reach your full potential, so it can’t hurt.” She groaned through her arms, since she was practically laying on the table.
“It still feels like it does. When I heard how many shelves you had I almost didn’t believe it. I’ve only got five.” This was similar to what I’d heard from most of the other first-years. They all had between four and seven, which I tried not to take as an insult to my intelligence.
“Dunno. Guess I’ve still got a lot to learn.” She took a sip of tea, and laid her head back down.
“Did you hear the rumors? Apparently Harry Potter is Gryffindor’s new Seeker.” I perked my head up at the mention of Harry, since I’d met him on the train to Hogwarts.
“Really? I’m impressed. He must’ve been pretty talented to make it through try-outs.” She shook her head, now up and somewhat awake.
“No, apparently he flew incredibly well during his first flying lesson and McGonagall recruited him on the spot.” I raised my eyebrows, mildly surprised.
“That’s interesting. Doubt anyone has done that before.” She leaned over and smacked my arm.
“Be serious. Now Roger is worried to go up against the Boy Who Lived, and Isobel has been studying harder than ever on Quidditch.” I frowned down at a tricky word in the book.
“Hope she doesn’t overwork herself. Maybe we should take a day this weekend and get her out of the Pitch.” Padma nodded in assent, finishing a plate of toast. I ate slowly, having gotten up early to enjoy breakfast, and the two of us were joined by Terry after a few minutes.
“Hiya, Siobhan. Hiya, Padma. How’s the morning treating you?” I shrugged noncommittally.
“Not terrible yet. Did you finish the scroll for Transfiguration?” He nodded merrily, snagging a piece of toast from Padma, who cried out in indignation.
“Yeah. Got it done last night, thank God, since it’s due today. Hardly thought I’d have time after cramming in as much reading as possible.” I snorted derisively, since I knew he only had four shelves to read, and was constantly rubbing it in my face.
“Sure you do. I can’t imagine what four shelves would be like.” He flicked some of my hair, and I swatted playfully at him, giggling into my book. Our banter was interrupted by Professor Flitwick, who liked to walk up and down the Ravenclaw table in the mornings, usually sitting with older students and engaging them in conversations about magical theory. Sadly, today he picked me, and sat down next to my spot, summoning a few books so he could sit at the proper level.
“Good morning, Miss Ollivander. Mind if I ask a question of you?” I marked my page in the book, and closed it.
“Of course not, Professor. Ask away.” I noticed Terry and Padma scooting away, making excuses to leave, mostly so they wouldn’t get roped into the debate.
“Would you mind helping out at some of the meetings for the Transfiguration Club? Even though Professor McGonagall is the Transfiguration professor, most of the members of the club are Ravenclaws, and I serve as the faculty advisor for it. I’ve been noticing the books you’ve been assigned by the library, and I think it might help you understand practical applications as well as study.” I shrugged.
“Sure. As long as it doesn’t get in the way of classwork, of course.” He let out a hearty chuckle, and patted me on the back.
“Of course not. Well, the club meets in the Charms classroom Sunday nights, around six o’clock. I hope to see you there.” He hopped off of his books, and Vanished them, heading off down the table to harangue another student. I packed up my things, and hurried to class, grateful at escaping unscathed.
Saturday morning, it was my turn to wake the others up, intent on getting a full day of relaxation in with Isobel. I woke her up last, since I knew it’d be easier to convince her if all of the other girls were with me, and gently shook her awake. As she sat up, she wearily spouted a few random Quidditch rules, before blinking up at me.
“Siobhan?” I glanced over my shoulder at the rest of the girls.
“We’re having a day off from books, and homework. Figure you could join us if you want.” My inflection hopefully made it clear that this wasn’t an option, and she sighed, crawling out of bed and heading to the bathroom.
“Give me fifteen minutes.” While we waited, I practiced a few spells, changing the color of a few book covers, until she meandered downstairs. Our first stop was at the Great Hall, where we all ate a large breakfast, talking excitedly about what we were going to do. Since there wasn’t much to actually do on the grounds other than go to the library, we figured we could hang out by the lake and Sue could teach us how to play ‘football,’ which was apparently a Muggle game involving kicking a ball around on the ground. It was nice enough out, and we ended up spending the majority of the day out there, some of us kicking the ball around while others lounged in the sun. We even managed to get the giant squid involved, by kicking the ball out to it, where it would whip a tentacle around to hit the ball back to us. All in all, it was a fun day, and I noticed that Isobel had loosened up a little bit, which was what I’d wanted to happen. By the time I went to bed, she was happier than I’d seen her since starting her apprenticeship on the Quidditch team.
The next day was spent furiously doing homework, until about five o’clock, when I headed back to the common room. I was getting better at navigating, and got back with about half an hour to spare before the club meeting. I got dressed in my Hogwarts skirt and sweater, since one of the members of the club had told me that it was more relaxed dress, and headed out, making it to the Charms classroom with a few minutes to spare. A few students were there, mostly Ravenclaws, though there were some Gryffindors and one lone Slytherin, and I also noticed that they seemed to be at least in their second year. Intimidated, I stood by the door, unsure as to where to go, when a voice sounded out from a corner of the room.
“Hey, Siobhan! Come sit with me and Julien.” I looked for the source of the voice, and smiled as I saw Eddie sitting with the one Slytherin in the room. As I walked over, I got a better look at the Slytherin boy, and almost stopped in my tracks.His face looked like he’d had the same realization as I sat down between him and Eddie, who was chatting up a storm with a Hufflepuff. Julien spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper that I strained to hear.
“You…” I glanced over at him, and nodded imperceptibly, replying almost as quietly.
“You?” His eyes flicked around the room cautiously, before nodding slightly. Even though I couldn’t say anything now, for fear of outing both of us, I practically wanted to hug him on the spot. I was definitely writing my parents about this. My train of thought was interrupted by Professor Flitwick, who called everyone to attention from the door.
“Hello, students! I’m glad to see so many new faces here tonight. Siobhan is here to help out and learn in any way she can, since she’s got top marks in Transfiguration.” As he went into detail about the activities we were going to be doing today, I kept sneaking glances at Julien, noticing that he was doing the same, until I was called on by Professor Flitwick.
“Miss Ollivander, would you be as kind as to distinguish between True Transfiguration and Conjuration?” I cleared my throat nervously as everyone turned to look at me, and spoke quietly.
“True Transfiguration is the altering of an existing object, while conjuration is transfiguring the object from thin air.” He clapped his hands together happily, and continued on with the speech as I felt a scrap of parchment press itself into my lap. Without looking, I pocketed it, waiting for a moment when Flitwick was further away, and peeked at it. The note was from Julien, and it read,
Want to walk to the Ravenclaw common room with me?
I stealthily wrote a response in the positive, and slipped it back to him. The rest of the meeting was practical work, which I greatly enjoyed, especially when one of the fourth years grew my hair out to my ankles by accident. He had been meant to transfigure my loose hair into a bun, but I waved Professor Flitwick off, saying I quite liked my hair this long. After tying it up in a ponytail, so I wouldn’t trip on it, we resumed, me getting my revenge after ‘accidentally’ turning the fourth-year’s hair bright white. As the club packed up to go, I noticed Julien hanging around the door, and told Eddie and the other Ravenclaws that I was going to take a longer route back, so they went on ahead of me. Julien and I walked out together, taking a few corridors in order to be out of earshot, before he spoke.
“I just have to know. To be sure. You are, right?” I nodded, excited to find someone like me, and practically tackled him into a hug.
“You are too, right?” He nodded, returning the hug, and I laughed in joy before he shushed me.
“Careful. The one person that can’t know about this above all else is Peeves. Now, c’mon.” I frowned as he led me up a few floors, ending up in a row of rarely used classrooms on the sixth floor.
“Where are we going?” He shot me an unreadable look, and drew his wand.
“The Hogwarts club you should join.” We ended up in front of a wall, and he carefully measured out a number of stones before tapping three times on one. To my surprise, the wall began to unfurl itself, much like the one in Diagon Alley, and we stepped through into a cozy, warm room, lit by a crackling fire. There were quite a few people scattered through it, almost forty, and as the wall reassembled itself I saw that every single person was pointing a wand at me.
“Who did you bring here, Julien?” I gulped, and figured I should introduce myself for his sake.
“Hello. I’m Siobhan. Born, er, Michael.” At this, they all seemed to visibly relax, as did I. An older girl with short black hair that stopped just above her neck walked up, and held out a hand. “Welcome to the Order of Coats, the most secret club in Britain.” I shook, looking around at everyone in awe.
“So… we’re all…” She nodded.
“Yep. You’re Siobhan Ollivander, right? C’mere. I’ve got something you might want to see.” She led me over to a wall filled with paintings, which eventually turned into photographs, and pointed out one titled
“Class of ’81”. I peered at it, and gasped as I saw my mums, Sophie sporting a side-shave and dark eyeshadow, while Emily had bright pink hair.
“Your parents, yeah?” I nodded happily, about to tear up, and the girl patted me on the shoulder.
“Welcome to your second home. Well, third if you count Hogwarts.” I gave a watery smile, and she laughed, hugging me to her side.
“It’s alright, Siobhan. I remember my first day here, and I was practically bawling my eyes out.” She led me to a free chair by the fire, and I sat, watching avidly as she spoke.
“Hello everyone, and welcome to the first official meeting of the year! We had quite a few seventh-years leave us last year, but that’s alright. You probably gathered by now that our newest member is Siobhan Ollivander, which works out perfectly since the codename ‘Olive’ is open this year.” At my (and a few other kids) looks of blatant confusion, she went on to explain.
“Due to some… prejudices within the Wizarding community, we have to be pretty secretive when it comes to this club. For passing notes and sending letters about the club, we use our codenames, so as not to implicate ourselves in anything. Everyone’s codename is on a board at the back of the room, which I’d recommend you memorize. And, if some of your parents were in this club, there’s a record of everyone’s codenames in the history of the club, so you can write them a letter with a little nod towards the fact that you know, that they know. Now!” She clapped her hands together, “The rules. Don’t worry, there aren’t a ton, just basic club stuff. Attendance is optional, so if you aren’t feeling up to it on that particular day, don’t worry. We have formal meetings on the last day of every month, though a few of us like to meet at different times during the month just to get a breath of fresh air now and again. The room itself moves every month, so make sure to ask an older member where it’s going to be at the end of each formal meeting. It’ll drop you off just outside of your common room, so don’t worry about sneaking past Filch after meetings. Finally, the most important rule: no one outside of the club can know it exists. This is for your own safety, as well as everyone else in the club. But, you cannot tell anyone about this. Especially Peeves. Now that my spiel is over, any questions?” I shook my head, as did a few other first-years, until one spoke up.
“So, what exactly do we do in this club?” At this, the girl smiled.
“Why don’t you find out?” The older students began to move towards different pockets of the room, and Julien stood, nodding in the direction of a particular corner to me. I followed, noting that the other groups had significantly more people (ours only had about five, not including me). I looked at Julien, confused.
“We’re grouped by our identities. Sheesh, for a Ravenclaw you’re pretty slow.” I smacked him, and introduced myself to the other four people in our group. There were two sixth-year Gryffindors, Jack (a willowy, tall boy with a buzz-cut) and Marcy (a short girl with bubblegum-pink hair and a eyebrow piercing); an older Ravenclaw I’d seen in the common room before named Arthur (he was stocky, with long-ish brown hair) and a teeny Hufflepuff fifth year named Julia (who was shorter than I was, and had dark black hair). Once we were introduced, Jack smiled mischievously.
“So. I managed to swipe some Hair-Loss potions from Snape’s office. With a little tweaking I think I can get it to work as a depilatory for the ladies.” Arthur frowned down his glasses, and Jack rolled his eyes in response.
“Are you sure that was a good idea?” He shrugged.
“Whatever. Snape’s a dried-up old bat, he deserves it.” I instinctively looked over my shoulder to make sure he hadn’t somehow appeared behind us, which got a laugh out of Marcy.
“I remember when I did that. Don’t worry, it gets better. Sometimes he just ignores you.” I smiled a little, slightly overwhelmed by everything that had happened, as Julia spoke.
“I, for one, thank you, Jack. I can take a look at tweaking the potion, since Potions is my favorite subject.” He nodded, and passed the bottles over. Arthur, choosing to ignore the larceny for the time being smiled down at me.
“It’s nice to meet you, Siobhan. I expect you can learn a lot from Marcy and Julia. I’m also certain they’re happy to teach you.” Julia seemed mostly indifferent, but Marcy jumped up and down on the spot, practically squealing with joy.
“Yes! I’m so excited! I can’t wait to teach you, you know. Julia is too, she’s just a clam around new people. Normally she’d be bouncing off the walls with energy.” Julia rolled her eyes, and for the rest of the night, we talked about everything and anything, getting to know each other until the older girl, who I realized had to be the leader, clapped again.
“Alright, everyone. It’s around midnight, so I figure we should all get to bed. First-timers remember to memorize the codenames, and see you all formally next month!” As people began to trickle out, I went over with the other first-years, and memorized the codenames on the board, paying special attention to those from my group (Jack was Rhubarb, Marcy was Tulip, Arthur was King, Julia was Pixie, and Julien was Ruby) before walking out with Arthur onto the landing in front of the common room. He answered the question at the door for me, and we entered the common room, bidding each other goodnight before heading to our dorms.
“You know, Marcy usually hangs around the clubroom after classes are over, if you want to meet up with her.” I nodded in thanks, and quietly entered the first-year girls’ dorm, stealthily getting into bed, where I smiled up at the ceiling, joy welling up in my chest. I scribbled a letter to my parents, using their codenames (Moody and Utah) and signing it Olive. I didn’t explicitly mention the club, just that I’d made some new friends, and gently woke Angharad, who liked to sleep in my room most nights, since she wasn’t very sociable. Irritable at being woken, she nipped at my finger, but a few treats got her to perk up, and I watched her soar away before closing the window and going to bed.
The next morning, as I sat at breakfast, Angharad returned, hopping up onto my shoulder and nibbling at my ear as I unrolled the letter from my parents.
Siobhan,
I’M SO EXCITED FOR YOU! I can’t believe you managed to find it your first year, but of course you did, you’re a Ravenclaw, I guess. So what’s it like? No, maybe don’t tell me over owl. Or do! I’m so happy you managed! I can hardly contain myself, ha!
The handwriting changed from Emily’s to Sophie’s, which was much more controlled.
Sophie here. Your mum is practically screaming in the kitchen right now. I’m glad you’ve managed to find it, one way or another. I hope they’re all nice, too. I suppose I know which you’ll be with, but if you want to talk about it with us you can, since we’re alumni of it. Hope class today goes well.
With love
I smiled down at my cereal, and slipped the letter in my robes, intent on showing Marcy after class was over. That proved to be a difficult matter, since I was practically bored to death in History of Magic, and Snape assigned a brutal three-foot scroll on the history and process of making Murtlap Essence, so by the time I slipped into the clubroom I was nearly dead on my feet. I plopped down in a chair near the fire, and was promptly scared out of my skin when Marcy appeared next to me, practically vibrating with excitement.
“You nearly scared me to death, Marcy!” She slung herself into a chair across from me, and I showed her the letter, which she read happily.
“Ah, brings a tear to me eye.” I raised an eyebrow, but she appeared not to notice.
“So, what do you want to do first? There’s all kinds of stuff to learn, from spells to potions to general fashion.” I frowned, intrigued by the idea of spells that could help.
“What kinds of spells are there?” She hopped up, and walked over to a bookshelf, perusing the books while muttering to herself.
“Hm… where did I put it? I could swear it was-ah! Found it.” She returned with an old, beat-up journal, and handed it to me. The cover read, in a handwritten title, Useful Spells for the Transitioning Witch.
“A long time ago, one of our members wrote this. I think she was in Ravenclaw, too. Figures.” I flipped open the first page, and read the short introduction passage:
Hello! Since this book is enchanted to be invisible to people who don’t need it, I can assume to know why you’re here. What follows is a list of spells, both known and discovered by yours truly, that can help in passing as well as transitioning for every witch. They also have explanations on how to cast, as well as descriptions, and I’ve sectioned them off by skill level, so don’t go trying to cast an Orchiectomy Transfiguration without passing your O.W.L.s, ladies! Enjoy, and kisses.
It was both written and signed in a thin scrawl, and I opened it to the first page, titled “First Years, Listen Up!” Marcy spoke, reading over my shoulder.
“When she says to wait to use certain spells, make sure you do. I almost died in my third year trying to grow my hair out.” I blanched, and looked up at her.
“W-What?” She nodded grimly.
“Tried to grow my hair out, and ended up scalping myself. Was not a fun trip to the Hospital Wing, if I say so myself. But I don’t think you’ll have problems with short hair.” She lightly pulled on my ponytail, and I snorted, burying myself in the book as she headed off to work on “A god-awful scroll for Arithmancy. Never take that class.”
First Years, Listen Up!
Now, I know what you’re thinking: Why can’t I just magic myself into a new body? Well, if you were a bit older, or a Metamorphmagus, you could, but for now you can only do so much. Don’t worry! That’s not an insult, more of a description of the vast potential you have. Plus, it’s safer to take it in small steps. Magic isn’t just a way of doing incredible things, it also has it’s costs. Have you ever practiced Levitating Charms for a few hours and ended up in the Hospital Wing with a migraine? That’s because the repeated use of magic wears on magic-users. It’s also why dueling for long periods of time can be disastrous, especially if you’re using more powerful spells. To perform such a complicated spell would put you into a coma, at least. Now that you (hopefully) understand the risks of going too fast, let’s get into it!
Over the next few weeks, I scoured the section for first-years, which started out with simple Color-Change Charms and worked up to a few home-made spells, such as the Charm that stopped your Adam’s apple from growing. I practiced religiously, Marcy laughing herself into hysterics when I made my hair shine like a torch by accident, but by the time Halloween rolled around, I was making progress. There was a meeting after the Feast, and I spent the meal hanging out with the other Ravenclaw first-years, turning bright red after a prefect yelled at us for throwing bits of bread at each other. Sadly, our fun was interrupted by the doors to the Great Hall smashing open, revealing the Defense professor, Professor Quirrel. He ran up the middle of the tables, shouting.
“Troll! In the dungeon!” He then fainted, and the room erupted in screams, punctuated by a crack of thunder. I began to panic, looking around for Arthur, but Dumbledore’s voice sounded out, magically enhanced.
“Quiet!” Once we’d settled down, he resumed calmly.
“Prefects, please lead your houses to their dormitories. The teachers will each search a floor for the troll.” The four houses stood, each trickling out of the Hall, and as I left, I noticed Harry Potter along with another Weasley slip off into the castle. Before I could follow them, I was pulled into a classroom. I squeaked as a hand was clapped over my mouth, and I was turned around to see Jack, looking worried. He spoke quietly, peering out of the doorway carefully.
“We’re going to the clubroom. It’s the safest place in the castle we know about.” I nodded, terrified, and once he’d determined there was no one to see us leave, we quickly made our way up to the sixth floor, narrowly avoiding Professor Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, and rushed into the room, finding the others waiting. Marcy bounded over to me, pulling me into a crushing hug, while the leader, Augusta, stood by the door, tensely twirling her wand in her fingers.
“Everybody here? Good. No one will notice you’re gone, don’t worry. This is the safest place in Hogwarts.” Suddenly, the room went deathly quiet, as we heard someone tapping on the wall, presumably with a wand. Everyone drew a wand, even me, though I had no idea how to duel. Finally, the doorway began to open, and as Augusta saw who it was, she lowered her wand.
“Don’t worry, gang. He’s a friend.” I hesitantly lowered my wand, and to my utter shock, Dumbledore walked through the doorway, smiling amicably.
“All of you are alright, I take it?” Augusta nodded, and he smiled around the room.
“I figured that the members of the club would return here in case of danger, as that’s what we did in my day. Plus, until the troll is found, it would serve you well to be with a teacher.” I was still getting my head around the fact that Dumbledore knew about the club, and also used to be a member, but some of the older students seemed to be fine with it, so I assumed they knew. He walked around the room, checking in with each group, and ended up at ours, where he took a seat.
“I trust you all are alright? Especially Siobhan.” I nodded, and Jack spoke.
“Yes, Headmaster. I pulled her out of the Great Hall and got her here. Almost got nailed by Professor Kettleburn, but we’re in one piece.” He seemed satisfied with this, and turned to me.
“How are you enjoying the club? Not too rowdy, I hope.” I smiled, comforted by his presence, and shook my head.
“No, just rowdy enough. I didn’t know you were a member of this club, Headmaster.” He nodded.
“Indeed. I do recall seeing your mothers here back when they were at Hogwarts, as well. Have you mentioned this to them?” At my nod, he seemed happy.
“Ah, good. Well, if there isn’t anything else I can do for you, I should get back to the teachers and track down the troll. I’ll come back to let you all know it’s safe to leave.” With that, he departed, speaking a few quiet words to Augusta, who shot a glance over at our group as he left. After a minute, where Jack and Marcy shared a dark look, Augusta came over to us.
“Heard you dodged Kettleburn on the way here.” Jack nodded.
“He was patrolling the sixth floor. Close scrape, but I’ve had closer.” She scowled at him.
“You might have, but if he saw Siobhan, it would be awful.” He raised his hands, and I frowned.
“Why’s Professor Kettleburn so bad?” Julia shot a dark look at the floor.
“Hates people like us. He knows about the club, somehow, and is always trying to figure out how to get us in trouble.” I shuddered in fear, but an arm around me from Marcy stopped me.
“Don’t worry. The only teachers that know how to get in here are Dumbledore and Madam Hooch, and they would never tell.” I nodded, feeling a little bit better about it, and spent the next half-hour comparing notes on Useful Spells for the Transitioning Witch with Marcy and Julia. Julia was a brilliant spellcaster, and gave me a few tips on the Hair-Shave Hex, since she wasn’t done tweaking the Hair-Loss Potions just yet. Finally, Madam Hooch poked back in, letting us know it was safe to leave, and we each separated into our houses, Ravenclaw leaving last. This gave me the chance to see the other Ravenclaw members of the club up close, and I was surprised to see Cho Chang, another second-year, among the older students. She gave me a small smile as we filed out, entering the common room to find one of the prefects sitting by the fire.
“You alright? Dumbledore sent Madam Hooch to let me know a few of you got stuck on the Vanishing Staircase.” Arthur nodded, taking over the excuse-making.
“Yep. Ended up in Brighton for a little while, but we made our way back.” The prefect nodded, and I went upstairs, where the other girls were waiting. Upon seeing me, they burst out in relief, surrounding me and leading me to my bed.
“Are you alright?”
“We heard you got lost on the Vanishing Staircase.”
“What was it like? Where did you end up?” I sighed, and told Arthur’s lie back to them.
“Got stuck in Brighton for a bit, but we’re all okay.” They seemed to take this as fact, Liza babbling on about how she’d like to go to Brighton on vacation, and I changed for bed wearily, sliding beneath the covers and falling asleep almost instantly.
Chapter 4: The First Year, Completed!
Chapter Text
After the events of Halloween, there wasn’t much commotion in the castle (aside from Jack’s now-infamous accident with a cauldron of Amortentia), other than Harry Potter’s broom trying to kill him at his first match. I wasn’t one for Quidditch, but Isobel had dragged me along, so I mainly stared blankly at the players flying around while she took fervent notes. As I was deciding whether or not to stay over break, Marcy sidled up to me.
“Y’know, we usually throw a party for Christmas and New Year’s. Not trying to get you to stay or anything.” I snorted, and ate some more breakfast (today was the last day before break, and classes were canceled due to an eruption of illnesses in the staff brought on by a student sneezing into a cauldron of Draught of Living Death in Potions, so I was taking my time getting ready for the day).
“Is that so? Sounds interesting. I may have to take you up on that.” She snagged a croissant from the table, and headed out of the Great Hall, presumably to the clubroom, since we were hosting a little get-together for the members that were going home. I scribbled in that I would stay, something I’m sure that my parents would understand, and turned in my form to Professor Flitwick, who mentioned he might ask for my help for Christmas decorations, since by now I’d mastered both the Levitating Charm and the Color-Change Charm. I made my way up to the clubroom, nodding to Professor Quirrel as I passed, and entered, finding everyone already here and talking happily. I received a few waves, and smiled, squishing myself into the same chair Marcy was sitting on.
“Uhf! Get off of me, you lump.” I laughed as she shoved around, trying to make space, before swearing and drawing her wand. Instead of hexing me, she tapped the chair, and it expanded into a small couch.
“There. Next time get your own chair.” I stuck my tongue out at her, and Augusta’s voice filled the room.
“This year, we say goodbye, for a time, to some of our members, only for a little while. Hopefully they enjoy their Breaks, even as we enjoy ours within the castle. I do bid you farewell.” Her somber attitude made me smile, and Jack hid a snort in a sneeze. Once the members had filed out, leaving those who were staying, Augusta smiled.
“I can also tell you that, after tallying up the notes, we are the only students other than a few Seventh-years who are staying, and they’ll mostly be in the library, studying for their N.E.W.T.s.” A question flickered in my brain, and I raised a hand.
“But what about Harry Potter? He told me on the train that he hated his aunt and uncle.” Augusta smiled knowingly.
“I have it on good authority that he’s spending Christmas with his best friend, Ron Weasley. No worries.” A few chuckles sounded, and I rolled my eyes.
“So! We have a few parties to plan, eh?” Cheers filled the room, mostly from the older students, and they quickly huddled together, leaving the second- and first-years to their own devices. I decided to look back through the book, studying what I’d already learned, and felt someone drop into the seat next to me.
“What’re you so interested in on the floor?” I frowned, before realizing she probably couldn’t see the book.
“I’m reading an enchanted book. Useful Spells for the Transitioning Witch. You can’t see it ‘cause, er, you’re not ‘transitioning.’” She nodded.
“Sounds interesting. There’s one of those for my group, too. I think all of the groups have their own magic book.” I looked up from the page on acne charms, and raised an eyebrow.
“Makes sense. What’re the parties like?” She shrugged.
“Pretty fun. They don’t let the younger students drink, though. Only fifth-years and up are allowed, and we have a curfew.” I nodded.
“Not terrible, I guess.” She elbowed me in the side.
“Dork. It’ll still be fun, I promise.” I nodded, and resumed reading, until I decided to head down to the Great Hall for dinner. Apparently, the tables were supposed to change into one small enough for everyone to sit together, but whichever professor was supposed to do it hadn’t gotten to it yet, and so there were several rows of empty seats. Occasionally there was a seventh-year, surrounded by a wall of books, parchment, and quills, but I saw that the club had taken over a section of the Hufflepuff table in the corner, loud and boisterous conversations filling the room. I headed over, squeezing into a spot between Jack and Julia, grabbing a Pumpkin Pasty from a plate. A few of the professors were there, most reading the Daily Prophet, others reading or scowling wearily into their coffees, as Professor Snape was wont to do. The only person who wasn’t ignoring our group was Professor Kettleburn, who watched us like a hawk, which was slightly unsettling. Julia seemed to pick up on my nerves, and patted my leg.
“Don’t worry. He won’t do anything in front of other teachers. Especially right now.” I frowned over bites of Pumpkin Pasty.
“Why not now?” She nodded her head, and I looked to see that Dumbledore had sat down with us, students moving to give him room, which squeezed me into Jack’s ribs even more. He waved them off, and smiled benignly.
“Don’t worry about making an old man comfortable. I’ll manage just fine. So,” He lowered his voice conspiratorially, “What time is the party on Christmas?” Augusta grinned, and nonchalantly took a swig from her goblet before responding.
“Starts at seven. Kids leave at eleven.” A chorus of groans flooded the room, causing Dumbledore to laugh, and Augusta to glare at all of us.
“Oh, to be young. I believe I shall be in attendance, if you would have me. I shall also extend an invitation to Madam Hooch.” I nodded eagerly, intrigued to see Dumbledore at a party (even though I would have to wait a few years for the actual party), and he stayed at our spot for a little while, telling funny stories and doing tricks with the food on the table. After a while, Madam Hooch arrived, and he invited her before taking his leave to discuss exam formats with Snape, who seemed awake enough not to kill anyone on sight. Madam Hooch was somehow even more of a riot than Dumbledore, ending up with me falling out of my seat from laughing when she told a story of how a Slytherin Seeker a few years ago had the snitch go down her shirt during a match. Finally, Cho and I couldn’t take any more, so we dashed off to the bathroom together, skidding to a stop outside the door to catch our breath.
“I never would’ve thought that Dumbledore was so funny. Or Madam Hooch!” Cho nodded, and held the door open for me as we entered.
“I can’t wait for the party this year.”
The morning of December 25th was cold, and I put on an extra layer as I sifted through the large pile of presents. We’d each gotten a gift for one other girl in the dormitory, so that those who didn’t have as much money could join in on the fun, and I found that one first, opening it to find a Wand Polishing Kit, something I’d mentioned several times due to my obsession with my wand. I’d gotten Isobel, and I gave her a book on Quidditch I thought she hadn’t read. We went around the room until everyone had gotten their gifts, ranging from makeup kits to books to joke love potions. Once that was done, some girls gathered their gifts to open by the fire, while Padma and I stayed in the dorm. Cho poked her head around the door, and waved.
“Hey, Siobhan. Happy Christmas!” I smiled, and she stepped in, saying hello to Padma as she did, and tossed a present at me.
“Here’s mine. I think Julien has one for you too before the other stuff.” ‘Other Stuff’ referred to the club party, but I thanked her and opened it as she watched from the doorway. It was a tiny model of the solar system that showed the planets orbiting the sun in real-time, and I gushed about how badly I needed it for when I started Astronomy. I’d gotten her a set of dress robes, and she tried each set on in the mirror, obviously excited. Once she bid me goodbye, I started opening my other presents, beginning with one from my parents.
Olive,
Hope you enjoy this gift! Hope the party is fun.
Love,
Mums
Inside the wrapped box was a pair of socks that flashed to match the wearer’s mood, and I decided to wear them to the party tonight. My great-uncle Ollivander sent me a book on wandmaking, obviously wanting me to follow in my mother’s and his’ footsteps. Various extended family sent candies, Sickles, and one absolutely hideous Christmas sweater, which I resolved to wear that night as well. Finally, down at the bottom, was a small box. I opened it, reading the note that slipped out in eerily familiar handwriting.
I know.
I frowned, but underneath the note was something that horrified me. It was a small, almost perfectly round, black olive.
I practically burst into the club room frantically, haphazardly leaving my gift on the table as Augusta rushed over to me.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I glanced over my shoulder in fear, and thrust out the box to her. Upon opening it, her face darkened.
“Damn. How does he keep doing this?” I followed her over to a desk that sat in the corner, where she withdrew a box filled with similar notes, each with their own attached identifying item.
“I don’t understand it. He always finds out, every year.” I spoke carefully, still a little worried.
“W-Who does?” She shot me a look.
“Kettleburn. Somehow he finds out which are the new members, and their codenames, and sends them something on Christmas. Like clockwork.” I gulped, half-expecting him to come crashing in through a wall, and retreated to a chair near the fire, sinking into it weakly. Just then, Marcy and Jack walked in, saw me, and saw the box sitting on Augusta’s desk. Surmising what had happened, Marcy rushed over to me, while Jack drew his wand.
“No, Jack. You know attacking him would only make it worse.” He began to pace as Marcy practically hugged me to death, glaring daggers into the floor.
“I know, I know. Still makes me angry.” Marcy dug a Sugar Quill out of her pocket, and handed it to me.
“Since you probably don’t want to go to the Great Hall. Your socks are showing white, which I assume means something, because they were red a moment ago.” I nodded, breaking off a piece of the Sugar Quill.
“I thought they’d be a neat party gag. It shows my current mood. I think white means… grateful?” They then flashed blue, which I assumed meant confused, but I was interrupted by Marcy, who was pointing her wand at my sweater.
“What is that God-awful thing on you? Get it off so I can burn it.” I swatted at her happily.
“It’s a gift, be nice.” She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The rest of the day was spent keeping Jack away from the presents, other members trickling in steadily. As it neared seven, a few of the others weren’t here, probably still in the Great Hall. My fear had gone down by then, but every so often my socks would flash red as I remembered the note. Finally, at six fifty-five, the last two members stepped in, followed by Madam Hooch in relaxed Muggle attire, and Dumbledore, who was wearing a sweater almost as hideous as mine. Upon seeing my sweater, he let out a laugh and sat near me. The rules for the gift exchange in the club were pretty simple. You get a name to buy for, usually within your group, either a one or a two, meaning how many presents. I’d gotten Arthur, so I got him a set of dumbbells and a book on exercise he’d mentioned wanting; Arthur got Julia a locket that showed her favorite memories; Julia got Marcy a book on magical tattoos and a miniature Quidditch pitch; Marcy had gotten Jack a signed beater’s bat from the Holyhead Harpies; and surprisingly, Jack had gotten Dumbledore. He got him a pair of wool socks, and Dumbledore laughed before saying he’d always wanted a pair. Dumbledore then turned to me, and held a box out.
“I do believe it is your turn to open a gift.” I was shocked that he’d gotten me, but maybe that had been why he’d sat down with us. I hesitantly unwrapped the package, which was wrapped in an enchanted wrapping paper that flashed different Hogwarts colors, and found a small book that was very similar to Useful Spells for the Transitioning Witch. The cover read, in the same hand, Useful Spells for the Transitioning Witch, Unedited Edition. I looked up at him, socks the corresponding blue, and he smiled.
“I happened to attend Hogwarts with the writer of this book, and she provided me with an unedited version, as she knew I collected books. I think you might enjoy it, or at least get better use from it than I.” I smiled, ignoring the chorus of ‘aw’s from Marcy and Jack, and opened it to the first page, which was similar to the one I had, but had writing in the margins, doodles of brooms and cauldrons, as well as a few notes in someone else’s handwriting.
“Who’s writing is this?” He arched an eyebrow.
“While she may have been a brilliant witch, she was lousy at figuring out spells, as well as how to tweak them to work better. I helped her on that end.” My jaw practically dropped through the stone floor. Not only was this an unedited, probably first edition, it also had Dumbledore’s notes in it?
“Thank you so much for this, Headmaster. I’ll use it very well.” He patted my shoulder, and Augusta spoke up.
“Well, if everyone has exchanged their gifts, let’s get into the Christmas cheer!” She waved her wand, and the radio kicked on, playing the Weird Sisters’ breakout album, Bewitched and Be-Bothered, while another student brought out candy, Pumpkin Juice, and Butterbeer. I had a great time, playing games with other members of the group, finding out quickly why Dumbledore was banned from trivia, watched Jack be completely demolished in an arm-wrestling match with Arthur, and saw Marcy finish a glass of Butterbeer in less than a second. Once it reached eleven o’clock, all of us that were fourth-year and below left, heading to the Gryffindor dorm, where a Gryffindor boy said he’d stashed a keg of Butterbeer. The rest of the night was spent there, playing Exploding Snap and other games until Jack and Marcy came back around two, clearly both drunk and giggling. They saw us, and tried to sober up a little, Marcy telling us all to go to our own dormitories, and I headed out with a few other Ravenclaws, having to dodge Filch on the way to the tower. Thankfully, we made it back in one piece, and I fell into bed, exhausted but happy.
New Year’s was much the same, though with less gift giving, and as students trickled back into the school, I was reminded of the daunting task that was our final exams. I still had some time, but the threat was looming over the Ravenclaw house perhaps more than the other houses, since we had a reputation to uphold. Padma and I spent extra time in the library, though I still found time to hang out in the clubroom, Marcy doing her best to relieve some of the stress of first-year exams with her antics, and one cold February morning I found myself getting ready to go to a Quidditch match with Isobel. When I left my dorm, I was surprised to see Julien lounging in a chair by the fire. Upon seeing me, he hopped up, and I frowned in confusion.
“How’d you get in?” He scoffed.
“Some people in Slytherin are smart too, you know. Here,” He handed me a package wrapped in flashy paper, “With everything that happened on Christmas, I forgot to give you your gift.” I smiled, and unwrapped it, revealing a gold necklace with a Ravenclaw pendant on it.
“Wow, this is so pretty!” He cracked a grin.
“Check the back of it.” I did, and was surprised to see a few words detailing where the clubroom had moved to.
“It updates each month, and only members can read it. Neat, eh?” I nodded, and hugged him, before backing away nervously and blushing.
“Siobhan! Are you ready to-“ Isobel stopped abruptly, probably surprised to see a Slytherin in the common room, and also picking up on the tension. Thankfully, Julien smiled, and waved to Isobel.
“Going to the match, then?” I nodded, and she replied in the affirmative, walking up beside me.
“Shall we?” I nodded again, and we left, Julien saying he’d catch up with us at the pitch, once we’d gotten breakfast. The moment we were out of earshot, Isobel was all over me.
“Who was that? He’s kinda cute, you know. I think he likes you.” I frowned. I couldn’t explain the way I felt, especially after hugging him, but it was almost like I was embarrassed to be around him, even though I really liked him.
“You think so? I mean, not that I care…” She shot me a knowing look as we entered the Great Hall.
“Yeah, sure. The look of hope on your face after I said that means you don’t care.” I poked her side, and found a seat with Padma and Liza. Isobel wasted no time in spilling the tea on what had happened.
“I think Siobhan has a boyfriend.” Padma choked on her tea, and Liza leaned forward, suddenly very interested in the conversation. I also noticed that Cho had quieted down a little bit down the table, probably listening in.
“I do not! I just hugged him, alright?” Isobel rolled her eyes.
“So that’s why you blushed afterwards, and when you two were hugging he closed his eyes and smiled, right?” I turned beet-red, and stared down at my plate as the others laughed, spending the rest of breakfast and the trip to the pitch poking fun at me. Thankfully, once the game started, Isobel was once more absorbed, but she did mention that Roger was thinking about having her play as a Beater, which I thought was neat. Sadly, we were interrupted by Julien sitting next to me, earning some stares from the Gryffindors in our section.
“Hey, Siobhan.” I smiled, stealthily elbowing Isobel in the ribs before she could get a snort out.
“Hi. Who’ve you got to win?” He shrugged.
“Dunno. Never been one for Quidditch, which is yet another addition to the things my dad is disappointed in me for.” I snorted, and shot him a grin, enjoying the feeling of being in on a secret. We spent the rest of the game talking back and forth, joking about Snape on a broom, since he was refereeing this game. After what seemed like an agonizingly long game (I really had no interest in Quidditch), it was over, and the group of Ravenclaw first-years I’d come down here with, plus Julien, headed back up to the castle to get lunch. Once we made it to the Great Hall, Julien peeled off from the group, sitting with a few Hufflepuffs, and I dug into lunch, desperately avoiding the looks I was getting from the other girls, especially Liza and Isobel.
“If any of you say anything, I’m going to Transfigure you into a kettle.” Snickers erupted along the table, and I had the feeling that rumors were beginning to spread throughout the house about my ‘crush’. Isobel raised her hands in surrender, and I went back to my food, the others thankfully starting up a conversation about a different topic.
June had finally arrived, and after Gryffindor had been trounced in their last game versus Ravenclaw, much to my enjoyment. Rumors were flying around the school about Harry Potter having stopped one of the professors from stealing something deep in the castle, that being why he hadn’t played, but nothing concrete was known yet, and I was face-to-face with a much more dangerous enemy than a rogue professor: exams. I’d been cramming since February, but that didn’t make me any less nervous, and I had to go to the Hospital Wing the last day before exams so Madam Pomfrey could give me a dose of Calming Draught. Once my hands were still enough to cast a spell, I stayed up all night with the other first-years, pouring over every review scroll and note from every class, an activity that the older students seemed to be used to at this point in their schooling. Transfiguration was up first, starting at the ungodly time of seven in the morning, so after sucking down a few cups of coffee I hurried off, finding a seat seconds before being counted as late. This exam was one I was reasonably confident for, since I’d had extra experience in my studies of Useful Spells for the Transitioning Witch, and this turned out to be a great help, especially when it came to Transfiguration theory. I was planning on performing the last spell for first-years, the Anti-Growth Charm, on my Adam’s apple at the end-of-year party the club was throwing, as well as changing my hair pink to match Marcy’s and my mother’s when she was at Hogwarts. The exam after Transfiguration was Charms, which I breezed through, finishing in record time and earning some extra time to gulp down coffee and eat a piece of toast before the History of Magic final. This one was much more difficult, and there was an entire section of the test I had no idea about, so I guessed randomly. I took the full time, not even finishing, and turned in my incomplete exam, face burning, before tearing through the castle to get to my Defense exam. Dumbledore had taken over teaching in Quirrel’s absence, which made it somewhat easier, but I did forget the difference between Red Caps and Grindylows during a long-answer question. Finally, to cap it off, was Potions. We had to make a perfect Antidote to Common Poisons, and Snape leered through the smoky room, making comments on how poorly people were performing and generally stressing me out for the entire duration. I turned in a slightly-off color antidote, hoping it wouldn’t be too bad of a grade, and convened with Padma and Anthony. The other first-years were going to the Great Hall to eat, but the three of us were too tired to stay awake much longer, and I liked the idea of passing out at least in the common room compared to into a plate of food. It didn’t take long after we got back to the common room for the three of us to find chairs by the fire, and fall asleep. I was shocked to learn I’d slept for almost twenty hours, meaning I had around an hour before the end-of-year party. Thankfully, Arthur woke me up, and I hurried through a shower, dressing in a smart pair of dress robes, which were in Ravenclaw colors, and headed out with Arthur around six. This time, when we reached the clubroom, not everyone had arrived, and I helped Augusta hang some streamers as we waited. Once Jack and Marcy arrived, I excused myself from a game of Exploding Snap, plopping down next to Jack.
“Hey, Siobhan. Finals treat you well?” I nodded distractedly, eager to do the last spell in this year’s section.
“Yeah, yeah. Listen, today’s the day.” They both frowned, and Jack spoke first.
“The day you join the Ravenclaw Quidditch team?” I shook my head, and Marcy spoke.
“The day you make a move on Julien?” My face grew hot, and I swatted at her.
“No, today’s the day I do the Adam’s Apple Charm.” Her eyes lit up, and she jumped out of her chair, sweeping me up into a hug.
“I’m so excited for you! I mean, only do it if you think you’re ready for it.” Augusta had come over to see what the commotion was, and Jack explained as I drew my wand, rereading the spell from the book.
“Ah, it appears I’ve interrupted an important moment.” The book nearly fell out of my hands, and I jumped about a foot in the air as Dumbledore spoke from directly beside me.
“H-Headmaster! Sorry, you startled me. Er, you’re not interrupting, I was just… Um…” I was saved from my momentary speechlessness by Marcy.
“She was about to do the Adam’s Apple Charm, Headmaster. It’s the last spell in the section for first-years.” He clasped his hands behind his back, beaming, and moved away a few steps.
“Then, by all means, do not let me distract you.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes (doing magic with one of the most accomplished wizards in history was going to be distracting no matter what), and reread the spell one last time. Finally, once I had gathered up a measure of courage, I pressed the wand to my throat, where my Adam’s apple was starting to form, and spoke the spell.
“Laryngea prohibere recusare.” A strange itching feeling spread down my throat, and I resisted the urge to cough with all my might before a searing pain struck me, only for a moment, but it was enough to make me gasp in shock. The pain abated, and after a moment, the itch did as well, and I glanced at Marcy, unsure as to if it worked.
“Well? Go on, say something. Take those new vocal chords for a spin.” Nervously, I cleared my throat, and spoke.
“How does it sound?” I then squeaked in surprise at how high my voice was without me even trying, and Dumbledore applauded quietly among cheers from the group. Other members began filtering in, and I amused Marcy greatly by dying my hair the same shade of pink as hers, though mine was a bit longer. The party kicked into gear around seven, as it had before, though there was a distinct sadness this time, since this was probably the last club meeting the seventh-years would attend. Augusta was a sixth-year, so she’d stay for another year with Jack and Marcy, which made me feel a little bit better. During a quiet moment, she stood, and got the attention of the room.
“As we say goodbye to our seventh-years, let me also remind you all that there is a new class of students coming in next year. With them will come people of all shapes and sizes, and it is our duty to find, protect, and teach the newest members of our club. Professor Dumbledore and Madam Hooch have, in the past, directed us towards potential candidates for recruitment, and I would once again advise you all to wait until you are completely certain before extending an invitation. Checking with an older member would be preferrable as well. Now, enjoy the rest of the party, and if I may have a word with the Headmaster and Madam Hooch?” They left the clubroom, and, since it was getting late and the train left reasonably early, I made my leave to finish packing. The other girls were still up when I arrived in the dormitory, and we swapped addresses for Muggle letters as well as owls while I crammed the last of my clothes into my trunk. Once I was reasonably sure it wouldn’t explode open, I flopped into bed, grinning up at the ceiling once more.
Chapter 5: Summer
Chapter Text
I was immediately tackled into a hug by Emily as I got off of the train, Sophie standing to the side, smiling.
“I would be shouting at you, but Soph said to wait until we were home. So hurry up!” I giggled, and hugged my other mum, while Emily got my trunk from the train. Once everyone was ready, they Apparated to our house, me using Side-Along Apparition, and got my trunk and things to my room. Angharad had flown home that morning, so she was waiting with a peck and a soft hoot when I lugged my trunk into my room. After my things were packed away (read: thrown wherever they fell in my room) I headed downstairs, where my parents waited with a pot of tea.
“Tell me all about it. I want as many details as possible.” The recounting of my first year with the club took a couple hours, us going through the whole pot of tea, and whenever I mentioned Julien, my parents would smile and share a knowing look. When my story came to an end, finishing up with the end-of-year party, Sophie smiled.
“I’m glad it seems like you enjoyed it. It was difficult for us not to tell you about the club before you left for Hogwarts, but you managed all on your own. We’re proud of you.” I beamed, but her next sentence made me blush a deep crimson.
“Although, there is something to be said about your History of Magic marks. I know Professor Binns is a bore, but you should try and pay a little bit more attention.” Emily made a face at Sophie behind her back, and I smiled.
“Enough of the ‘bad cop’ act, Soph. It’s summertime!”
Chapter 6: First Kiss
Chapter Text
I met up with Julien and the others from my group on the train, keen on catching up in person (even though we’d been sending owls almost nonstop over the summer). When I finally located the cabin they were in, I was greeted by a solid wall of noise.
“Siobhan!”
“Hey, Olive!”
“Get in here!” Jack pulled me into the cabin, and I haphazardly fell onto Julien’s lap, causing him to immediately stop talking and both of us to blush. I quickly righted myself, trying to be nonchalant, but the not-so-sneaky looks the others shot each other was proof enough.
“Tell me all about your summer! How were your parents?” I smiled at Marcy, and went into a detailed description of the trip we’d taken to Paris. Once I finished, procuring a few pictures to pass around, Jack pretend-swooned, gripping onto Marcy tightly.
“Oh, the city of looooove—” She shoved him off of her, giggling, and Arthur frowned at them over his book.
“Stop horsing around, you two. You have reputations to uphold.” Jack rolled his eyes, while I shot a confused look to Julien.
“They’re this year’s Head Boy and Head Girl.” My jaw dropped, and I congratulated them as the trolley witch stopped at our cabin. Once those of us who wanted candy had gotten it, Jack leaned forward conspiratorially.
“Kettleburn was furious. Had a private meeting with Dumbledore and everything.” My pride in them was tinged with fear at the mention of his name, but Julien patted my shoulder.
“Don’t worry. He can’t do anything, especially now that those two are Head Boy and Girl. Apparently, Augusta has a big plan in mind, since it’s her last year.” This piqued my interest, and I waited for him to continue.
“Nobody knows what it is, obviously, but it’s got to have something to do with her naming her successor. Can’t very well have a club without a leader, eh?” I shrugged.
“S’pose not.” I turned to Arthur.
“So, how many shelves do you have left?” He shrugged, marking the page in his book and closing it, Jack loudly munching on a Pumpkin Pasty.
“Just one. But, I’m a sixth-year, so that’s expected. I heard you got quite the workload last year.” I rolled my eyes. I’d taken the summer off from constantly reading, but during my first year I’d managed to finish one shelf, and now that I was familiar with the castle, I could probably pick up my pace.
“Sadly. I’m down to fifteen, now. I took the summer off to give my eyes a break.” He nodded encouragingly.
“That’s alright. It may feel like you’re behind, since you have so much to learn, but in reality you’re way ahead of everyone else, since you have enough of the basics down to learn other things. Being a Linguist is a blessing and a curse, I would imagine.” I huffed, and was brought out of my wry scowl by Julien, who rattled a box in my face.
“Every Flavour Bean?” I narrowed my eyes at the box suspiciously, but took a bright pink one, as Julien withdrew an all-black one. At the count of three, we popped them into our mouths, me hoping for a flavor like strawberry or something. Sadly, it was an acrid, metallic taste, and I gagged almost at the same time as him, spitting mine out into a tissue.
“Oh, god, that was terrible.” I snatched the box from him, and read the back as he coughed violently.
“No wonder! I got nail polish remover. Yours was black, right?” He nodded queasily, and I stifled a laugh before reading it out to him.
“You got charcoal. I feel even worse for you, honestly.” He practically downed a bottle of water to get the taste out, and I hugged him, laughing at how hard of a time he was having. After a minute, he seemed to get over it, and slid an arm around me, making me blush and slightly retract my arms. Noticing my embarrassment, he made to pull his arm back, but I shook my head.
“No, it’s okay. Sorry, I just…” He smiled, and extricated himself from my arms, leaving his around me.
“No worries. This okay?” I nodded, and smiled slightly at him. He dug around in the box of Every Flavour Beans, the other people in the cabin completely forgotten, and pulled out a dull green one, nibbling slightly at one edge before handing it to me.
“Here. This one’s green apple.” I took it, and ate it, grinning as he continued to dig through them. A very loud throat-clearing from across the cabin made both of us jump, and I guiltily looked over at Jack, who was grinning.
“If you two are done, the guys are leaving so the girls can change.” Julien moved as though he’d just been shocked, and left, muttering an apology quickly. Once the boys were all gone, Marcy, Julia, and I changed quickly, turned away from them. As I moved to open the door, Marcy stopped me.
“You know, you two are pretty young, but you obviously have feelings for each other. You should make a move before he gets the wrong impression.” I reddened, and looked down at my shoes, mind filled with images of kissing him in front of the whole school, or making a big sign saying “Date me!” in big letters.
“It doesn’t have to be super big or anything. Hell, you don’t have to kiss him if you don’t want to. Just let him know how you feel.” I let out a sigh of relief, and looked up at her, nodding.
“Okay. How… How do I do that?” She laughed, shaking her head, and patted my shoulder.
“We can talk more at the castle. I think the boys have finished their version of this talk with Julien, so we can let them back in.” I was red as a tomato when they came back in, and I noticed Julien was as well, sitting next to me and looking over.
“Still okay if I…” I nodded, and he put his arm back around me. We spent the rest of the train ride in a loud argument over which Quidditch team would win the next World Cup. Julien had the United States picked, which I decided to support, since I knew nothing about Quidditch, and by the time we pulled into the station, I was practically falling out of my seat at how frustrated Jack was getting (he had Ireland picked, but nobody was agreeing with him). When we all separated in the Great Hall, I checked the pendant Julien had gotten me, which told me that the next meeting was tonight, in a corridor on the third floor. I relayed this information to Arthur, who thanked me before sitting a bit down the table, letting me catch up with the other second-years during Dumbledore’s speech. After we’d all loaded our plates with food, Cho leaned over to me and spoke quietly.
“So. Rumor has it that you and Julien…” I shot her a look, and she raised her hands in defeat.
“Nothing yet. But, maybe in the future? I think we both like each other.” She grinned, and patted my back.
“Good on you. Think your friends are interested in what we’re talking about, as well.” I looked over at Isobel and Padma, who were very clearly trying to look nonchalant as they hung off every word I said, and rolled my eyes.
“I swear, you two. Do you take this much interest in anyone else’s love life?” They both jumped, stumbling over excuses, and I smirked.
“Padma? Got anyone you’ve had your eye on?” She stuttered, and Isobel jumped on this, probably realizing how one-sided their focus has been, and we spent the rest of the feast poking at Padma, finally learning that she was crushing hard on none other than Ron Weasley. Before the two of us could close in for the kill, the feast ended, and she practically shot out of her seat, leaving Isobel and I rolling in ours from laughter. I met up with Jack and Marcy outside of the Great Hall, quietly slipping away from the group of students and making our way to the third floor, Marcy tapping the brickwork on the wall as Jack and I kept watch. Once we were inside, we found a few other members, Augusta sitting at her desk with Dumbledore. She waved, and I waved back before plunking down onto the small couch next to Marcy, Julia waiting until I was comfortable before sweeping her cloak aside theatrically.
“I now present to Marcy and Siobhan… Two tweaked Hair-Loss Potions!” The group applauded quietly, and I accepted my vial from her, inspecting the bright red liquid inside.
“It was a very complicated process, but I did manage to figure out a way to magically remove the hair follicles on your body without making you bald or losing your eyebrows or anything…” She droned on with a very involved description, the only one of us showing any interest being Arthur, who took diligent notes. Marcy and I inspected the vials, before unstoppering them in unison. We clinked them together, and drank, the potion having a strong strawberry flavor that I quite liked. We looked at each other, waiting for anything noticeable, before a strong itching sensation flowed over my entire body, though Marcy seemed even more put off, swearing and jumping out of her seat. Julia tutted at us, taking back the empty vials.
“If you’d been listening you would have heard me say that the itching sensation gets stronger the older you are, but I guess you were too busy to pay attention.” I giggled at Marcy, who was laying on the ground, and felt the itch gradually subside as Augusta got everyone’s attention.
“Hello, everyone! Welcome to your next year at Hogwarts!” Some cheers and applause sounded, but stopped as she held up a hand.
“With this year sadly being my final year at Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore and I have been pouring over possible choices for candidates to replace me once I leave the castle. As is tradition, we choose a younger student, so that they may mature into the role and guide the club in a safe direction, and this year will be primarily spent training the candidate to run the club in my place, as Circe Greenlocke did for me in my third year. If Cho Chang, Julien Montmorency, Cassius Warrington, and Siobhan Ollivander would please move to the center of the room, we will begin the final decision-making process.” I gulped, and stood with Julien, ending up sandwiched between Cho and Julien, with Cassius standing next to Julien, since they were both Slytherins. Noticing my fear, Julien stealthily threaded his hand into mine, and squeezed lightly, causing me to smile up at him gently. Dumbledore and Augusta took their time, reminding me (and I’m sure Cho as well) of the sorting in the Ravenclaw common room my first year, looking over each of us in turn, sometimes either Dumbledore or Augusta tapping us with their wands. Augusta, from what I could tell by her body language, seemed favorable towards Cassius, which surprised me, since she was in Hufflepuff. Dumbledore took to me almost immediately, scrutinizing my face carefully before retiring to the desk to confer with Augusta in quiet whispers. They were over there for a long time, my unease building with each minute that passed, but Julien squeezed my hand again.
“Don’t be worried, eh?” His voice was a light whisper, but it still made me feel better, and I nodded slightly, squeezing his hand back as Augusta and Dumbledore returned, standing in front of us.
“We have, after much deliberation, reached a decision.” Dumbledore bowed his head, and Augusta spoke, stepping towards us.
“The new leader of this club is… Siobhan Ollivander!” Scattered applause filled the room as my jaw practically hit the floor, Cho and Cassius congratulating me while Julien pulled me into a side-hug. Augusta waited until he let go, and spoke.
“If you wouldn’t mind a word, Siobhan?” I shrugged, and her, Dumbledore, and I moved over to the desk, where she motioned to the chair.
“Go on. It’s yours now.” Once I’d sat down, she sat on the edge of the desk.
“Basically, what’s going to happen this year is that I’ll explain each part of the process of being the leader, as well as gradually letting you take over more and more of day-to-day operations as you get better at it.” I nodded, and she leaned over, pulling open a drawer to reveal a series of numbered files.
“This is primarily what Dumbledore and I were working on over the summer, and something you’ll learn to do as well. We do a bit of research on each incoming student, trying to determine if they’re a good fit, as well as finding out who among the first-years will most likely go down the Kettleburn path.” I frowned.
“The what?” She shot a look over her shoulder, and lowered her voice.
“Just as this group exists, so exist other groups that have the exact opposite opinions and goals. This is normally information reserved for when you’re older, but since you’re training to be the new leader, it’s important that you know this now. Kettleburn isn’t the only one against us. It’s especially hard for Gryffindors, since their house seems to have a lot of anti-club people in it.” She shut the drawer with a wave of her wand, and Dumbledore put a hand on my shoulder comfortingly.
“It will all work out, Miss Ollivander. Both Augusta and myself will be there every step of the way this year in order to help you, should the need arise. But, you seem to me like a more-than-capable witch, so I doubt you shall have much difficulty running the club.” I nodded, still a little overwhelmed, and leaned back in the chair, looking at all the loose scraps of parchment, empty pots of ink, and quills littering the desk.
“So when do we get started?”
The next day, I got to know more of the older students from the club, since they were usually the ones that met with the first-years. Augusta handed out a file to each of them, going over the person in question before letting them get to work. There were quite a few candidates, but Augusta regretfully told me that not many of them make it.
“It’s not like we don’t let them in, it’s more that either we had bad information or really bad information.” I poured a cup of coffee, and looked over my schedule (Augusta had woken me up at the god-awful time of four o’clock):
8:00-Charms
9:00-History of Magic
11:00-Transfiguration
12:00-Lunch
1:00- Introduction to Care of Magical Creatures
2:00-Potions
3:00-Herbology
4:00-Defense Against the Dark Arts
The only thing on it that genuinely worried me was the Intro to Care of Magical Creatures, which was Kettleburn’s class. I snagged some toast from her plate, and rubbed the tiredness out of my eyes.
“Dunno how much good all this is gonna be, since I’m going to be killed at one o’clock today.” She frowned, reading my schedule upside-down.
“Oh. Well, like I said, don’t worry, he’s not going to try anything in front of everyone. And if he does kill you we’ll have a funeral in your honor.” I snorted, gulping down my coffee.
“Well, I should be off. I’m Flitwick’s favorite student, so I probably shouldn’t be late to the first class of the term.” She nodded as I stood, gathering my things (the first book from the library I’d decided to tackle was an eight-hundred page monster on the Latin language in reference to magic, titled Magica Incatatio: Hocus Pocus or Linguistic Genius?, which apparently was such a high-level book I had to borrow Marietta’s copy of Thaddeus Wicklane’s Dictionary, since some of words in Magica Incatatio even tripped up my copy. As I arrived to Charms, I noticed that Flitwick was absent, the words In A Meeting; Please Take Notes on Chapter One of Extreme Incantations Until I Return written on the board. I let out a sigh of relief, and breezed through the note-taking, deciding to crack open Useful Spells for the Transitioning Witch and see what the second chapter had to offer.
Second Years, Pay Attention!
You’ve made it to your second year at Hogwarts. Congratulations! I hope Peeves hasn’t been giving you too much trouble. How’d the spells from last year go? All well, I presume. This year, we’re going to dig into the nitty-gritty of magical theory, and before you swoon in your seat and faint from boredom, don’t worry! There’s all kinds of fun charms and hexes in this section too! So read on, and enjoy!
I inwardly groaned at even more magical theory, still making sure to be somewhat stealthy (since it would make no sense for me to be staring at a spot on my desk intently), and jumped as someone slid into the seat next to me.
“Er, hello.” I looked over, and realized it was one of the Achiever first years (common in Ravenclaw, some first-years excelled so much in certain subject they placed into the second-year class. I had almost placed into the second-year Potions last year). They were tall, willowy, and had bright green eyes framed by mid-length black hair.
“Uh, hi. You’re the Achiever from Slytherin, right?” They nodded, and covertly gestured to my book. “How, uh, is your book doing that?” I had to prevent my jaw from dropping into my lap, and glanced down.
“Which… Which book?” They leaned forward under the guise of checking my notes, and tapped Useful Spells for the Transitioning Witch.
“It’s almost… half-there? I can kind of see it, but not quite.” My eyes widened as I fully recognized the first-year; they’d been one of the files Augusta and I had assigned to the older students. This person was non-binary, the first ever at Hogwarts, and Augusta had given the go-ahead (with my permission, of course) for the older student to direct them to me if possible.
“Ah. Well, I’m kind of… part of a secret club. I think you’d fit in quite well. I heard Julien talking about you the other day, too. Something along the lines of, ‘I think they’re the best first-year when it comes to Charmwork.’” Understanding flickered in their eyes, and I smiled slightly.
“Ask Julien about it, and me when you get a chance. But don’t mention it to anyone else. Especially Peeves, or Kettleburn. Yeah?” They nodded.
“My name’s Red, by the way.” I shook the proffered hand.
“Siobhan.” Just then, Flitwick returned, and we engrossed ourself in our work, earning me an approving eye from him as he saw me tutoring the first-year.
Finally, it was with great dread that I entered Kettleburn’s classroom after a lunch consisting of water and supportive words from Julien and Marcy. I was the only member of the club in this class, and I saw him glower at me as I set my things down, at the back of the classroom. Once everyone was seated, he began to speak.
“Welcome to the Introduction to Care of Magical Creatures. In this class, we will learn the basics of the world of magic that resides in nature itself. From Pixies, to Harpies, Hypogriffs, and Hydras, the world is filled with many incredible,” his eyes swiftly flicked over to me, “and disgusting things aside from your standard witch or wizard. Today will simply be a discussion of what we will learn in this class, and-“ He was interrupted by the door banging open, revealing Professor Dumbledore.
“Ah, Headmaster. What seems to be the issue?” Dumbledore seemed outwardly calm, but there was a thick tension in the air.
“I require Miss Ollivander. I’m quite sorry to intrude, but it is quite urgent. Family, you see.” I had been looking back at Dumbledore, but felt the room drop about ten degrees as Kettleburn’s icy glare hit the back of my head.
“Very well. In order to make up for lost time, I expect a two-foot scroll on trolls, due this Friday.” I nodded hurriedly, not making eye contact, and picked up my things, following Dumbledore, who, once the door was shut, made no effort to appear relaxed.
“We must hurry. There has been an incident.” I frowned, struggling to keep up with his purposeful stride, as we made our way towards the third floor.
“With my parents?” He shook his head gravely.
“No.” His lack of explanation was beginning to worry me, and we arrived at the clubroom, him hurriedly tapping out the code on the wall and darting through. When I got a look at the clubroom, I let out a gasp. Blood was everywhere, centered around two people laying on cots someone must’ve conjured, and a shard of ice struck my heart as I saw Jack and Red, badly beaten. Augusta, Julien, and Marcy were the only people in the room, and I hurried over, looking to Augusta.
“What happened?” Jack let out a weary chuckle as Dumbledore knelt beside Red.
“Couple Gryffindors jumped Red, and I stepped in. Seems House loyalty is dying out, since they didn’t seem to care I was one of theirs.” He turned his head, and spat blood into a bucket as Dumbledore cast a few spells.
“You need to take this seriously, Jack.” He arched an eyebrow at Marcy, who seemed on the verge of tears.
“I am. I knocked some sense into them, but as you can see it was well repaid. Just hope Red’s okay.” I moved over to Julien, who put an arm around me.
“Red came up to me at lunch. Said you’d told them to talk to me. Guess the Lion-Heads overheard.” I looked back down at Red, worry filling my face as Dumbledore moved to Jack.
“I’ve reset most of their broken bones, but for obvious reasons we can’t take Red or Jack to the Hospital Wing. Augusta, would you please prepare a cover story?” She looked to me, and I gulped.
“Er, they were walking too close to the Forbidden Forrest? And Jack gets into trouble all the time, so maybe he made a Niffler angry?” She nodded, and Dumbledore sighed, conjuring up a roll of bandages for Jack and Red. Augusta held out a hand to me.
“C’mon. Help me with this, will you?” Julien let go, and I knelt next to Red with Augusta.
“I’m sorry you have to see this, and learn how to take care of it. Happens too much.” I wrapped their arm, which had a nasty cut on it, and shot her a confused look.
“It does? But I never saw…” She raised an eyebrow.
“’Course you didn’t. You realize that the only people here other than these two are people important to either them or us? It’s not a secret, but the older students try to shield the younger ones, for as long as possible. I’m sorry, Julien, and you, Siobhan, that you had to see this.” Julien shook his head, putting a hand on my shoulder as I moved to bandage Red’s legs, Augusta moving over to Jack as Marcy sank into a chair.
“I’m here for Siobhan. Being from a family of Dark Wizards, I’ve seen a lot worse than this.” I was operating on autopilot, more focused on bandaging Red, and once I finished all of the small cuts, I frowned at the big one on their torso.
“Here—Julien, help me lift them to get the wrapping around their chest.” He nodded, and carefully helped Red sit up, them slowly coming back to consciousness. I wrapped the bandages gingerly, every hiss of pain causing me to be even more cautious, and once I was done Julien helped Red lay back down. I stood, and brushed some loose hair out of my face, recoiling at the strange, sticky liquid that was left smudged where my hand had been.
“What…” I looked down at my hands, and now that Red was taken care of, fully focused on my arms, which were splattered with blood up to my elbows.
“Oh…” Light-headedness overtook me, and I fell back, landing hard on my butt as Julien tried and failed to catch me.
“Hey, it’s alright, Siobhan.” He sat next to me, and wrapped his arms around me, my eyes still stuck on the blood. Augusta looked up from Jack, and spoke quickly.
“Take her to the lavatory. Help her wash her hands, and make sure she’s alright.” Her words sounded like they were pushing through a thick jelly to get to my ears, and Julien helped me to my feet, checking to make sure the hallway was clear before leading me out and down the stairs, once again making sure it was clear before guiding me into the out-of-order girl’s bathroom on the second floor. I stumbled over to the sinks, fumbled with the tap, and eventually got the water running, weakly pawing at my hands.
“Here—let me help you.” He leaned over from behind, wrapping his hands around mine and gently scrubbing them, the blood slowly washing off and into the sink. As it did, my head began to clear, the water helping me come back to my senses. Once my hands and arms were clean, I was almost completely calmed down, and he gently turned me around, using a paper towel to dab the last of the blood off of my face. As he did, I watched his eyes, which were golden brown, focus with concentration, until they met mine, and softened.
“You alright?” I nodded wordlessly, catching the angle of his jaw as he looked at me, feeling my face beginning to flush. Remembering what the other girls had talked to me about on the train, I thought to myself, Damn a small gesture to hell! And leaned forward, pecking him on the lips. His eyes widened, and his face blanched before turning a bright crimson to match my now-burning face.
“I… uh, you—well, we…” I looked down, a little nervous as to his reaction, and squeaked in surprise as he wrapped his arms around me, hugging me to his chest. I slid my arms under and around him, and our magical moment lasted only long enough to be interrupted by what sounded like ghostly retching coming from one of the stalls. I pulled back, both confused and embarrassed, and he sighed.
“Moaning Myrtle. C’mon, let’s get back to the clubroom.” I nodded, and we hurried out, slowing our pace once we were back in the halls. It was deadly quiet between the two of us until we reached the entrance to the clubroom.
“Hey, Siobhan.” I paused, about to tap on the wall, and turned to face him.
“Yeah?” He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it, looking down at the ground.
“Did… I just want to make sure that—well, I don’t want to sound stupid or oblivious or anything, but—in the bathroom, what… I’m sorry, I’m butchering this.” I beamed at him, and hugged him again.
“It’s alright. I know what you were trying to say.” He looked up at me hopefully.
“And…?” I stuck my tongue out at him.
“It means I like you, dummy. Sometimes I forget you Snake-Skins aren’t as smart as us Ravenclaws.” He snorted, and messed up my hair as I tapped the code on the wall.
“Whatever, Bird-Brain.” We re-entered, me happy to see that Jack was on his feet, while Red had been moved to a couch. Marcy was all over Jack, constantly asking him if he was okay, while Dumbledore and Augusta were talking quickly and quietly over by the desk. I walked over to Red, while Julien sat with Marcy, and pulled up a chair.
“Hey. How’re you feeling?” They wearily took a drink from a glass of water.
“Been better. I’m sorry, I must not’ve been quiet enough or something, I messed up—” They were interrupted by me shaking my head quickly.
“No, don’t blame yourself. I should’ve told you to wait. I’m sorry for that. I’m glad you’re alright.” They snorted.
“Alive, more like. I saw how upset you got after you finished patching me up. Not good with blood?” I shuddered.
“Not… Particularly, no. But you needed help.” This seemed to satisfy them, and Red sat up a little bit more.
“Hell of a first day at Hogwarts.” I patted their shoulder before standing and walking over to Dumbledore and Augusta.
“I have no qualms with covering for those involved. The professors won’t question my reasoning, of course.” Augusta seemed to accept this, and turned to me.
“Are you alright? Not everyone is good with blood, I should’ve asked.” I shrugged her off.
“No worries. I took care of Red first, so it’s all okay. How’s Jack?” She ran a hand through her hair.
“He’s… Jack. Nearly died, but you wouldn’t think that talking to him.” She kept her eyes on him, worried, and I got an inkling that there was something between them I didn’t know about (this thought was helped along by Dumbledore winking at me). I decided to make a move for her.
“Marcy, c’mere. Augusta, go sit with Jack for a little, please?” She snapped out of her thoughts, and nodded absentmindedly, Marcy reluctantly leaving Jack and sitting with Dumbledore and I, the former chuckling quietly.
“I already thought you’d be quite the leader, but matchmaker as well?” I flushed, and cleared my throat quietly as Marcy spoke.
“Ugh, that idiot. I saw it happen. Took a truckload of points from my own house once it was all over, too.” I patted her knee.
“It’s over now. They’ll both heal, and we’ll move on. Jack seems pretty tough, y’know.” She rolled her eyes.
“He’s good at acting tough. I swear, he got all the good genes from our parents. Tall, a good dueller, blah blah blah. I’m short and only good at Herbology and Arithmancy.” I frowned.
“You two are related?” She nodded, seeming surprised that I hadn’t figured it out.
“Uh, duh. He’s my older brother by three minutes. Jerk apparently kicked me out of the way to be first.” I giggled, and Dumbledore smiled.
“So why did you call me over?” I shrugged.
“Wanted Augusta to have a chance to make a move. Dunno if she’ll take it though.” Marcy rolled her eyes, covertly glancing at the pair, Julien having picked up on the atmosphere and moving to sit with Red.
“She’s been crushing on him since our third year. Speaking of which…” She turned back to me, mischief in her eyes.
“How has it been going with you and you-know-who?” I blushed, remembering what had happened in the bathroom, and tried to be nonchalant.
“Well, when we went to the bathrooms to clean me up, when he was wiping my face, I, uh, kissed him.” She let out a squeal that was barely hidden within a fake sneeze, and practically vibrated in her seat.
“Really? Tell me everything. I want details.” Dumbledore let out a hearty laugh, reminding me that he was, in fact, there, and stood.
“Ah, young love. I think all of you are due an excuse from class the rest of the day. I shall have the prefects from your houses collect make-up assignments for today, but I do believe my work here is done.” With that, he bid the others farewell, leaving me to the torture of recounting, in vivid detail, the ‘Bathroom Incident,’ as Marcy took to calling it. The rest of the day was spent in the clubroom until dinner, Julien and Red sitting at the Ravenclaw table with me, and once I’d filled them all in on the situation with Augusta and Jack, we watched the pair eat together at the Hufflepuff table giddily, gossiping about how soon we thought they’d be official and what people would think.
Chapter 7: An Unlikely Alliance
Chapter Text
The year progressed slowly, mostly due to the hell that was Kettleburn’s class, but the club was growing, older students bringing in almost all of the prospective members we’d found at the beginning of the year. I steamrolled through books in the library, reading much quicker and using the Dictionary less and less, though Magica Incatatio always stuck with me, at least a particular passage:
It is known that most spells are rooted in Latin, though this knowledge is suppressed to prevent young or inexperienced magic users from harming themselves or others when attempting to use new spells or creating their own. Each spell that a witch or wizard learns is connected to language, and new spells are discovered continually stemming from Latin and occasionally French.
I knew I was nowhere near skilled enough to attempt to create a new spell, but the idea intrigued me, and I moved through Magica Incatatio, Arithmancy Throughout the Ages, A Knight’s Guide to Dueling Form, Dark (a book on Dark Magic that I had to take regular breaks from, or else I would vomit), Contemplating Transmutation, Epistemological Witchcraft, and, most perplexingly, a Muggle book titled A Brief History of Time: From Big Bang to Black Holes. I wasn’t quite sure why I needed to read that particular book, but as I delved into it, I realized that it was tying Transfiguration theory to Muggle science, and giving me an alternative method of understanding how Transfiguration itself worked. By Halloween, I’d almost finished another shelf, and had the feeling that I could finish another by the end of the year, but I was pulled out of my focus by Julien dropping into the seat next to me in the Great Hall.
“Happy Halloween, Siobhan!” I smiled, and marked my page before closing the book.
“You too, Julien. What’re you doing here so early?” Classes had just let out, and it was a while before the Halloween feast, so I was surprised to see him here.
“Figured you’d be here. Are you staying ‘til the feast starts?” I shook my head.
“Nah, I’m going to go back up to the common room first. I haven’t had a chance to change since Herbology, and my socks have mud in them.” He winced in sympathy, and we were interrupted by Marcy excitedly sitting down next to us.
“Look at the door, but don’t make it obvious.” I frowned, and glanced over, seeing Augusta and Jack standing next to each other, talking quietly.
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” She smacked Julien in the arm.
“He said he’s asking her out tonight. Now shut it and watch!” My interest piqued, I watched intently as Jack suddenly became nervous, scratching the back of his head and not fully keeping eye contact. After a beat, Augusta nodded, and he beamed, pulling her into a hug. Marcy practically exploded, causing me to shove a hand over her mouth, and we watched as Augusta left the Great Hall, Jack looking for us and heading over. He sat, wearing a dopey grin, and Marcy flicked his ear.
“Careful, you’re blushing hard enough to heat up a room.” He shot her a playful glare, and happily loaded his plate, not saying a word. Just then, Red fell into the seat next to him, smiling at me and Julien.
“Happy Halloween!” I grinned, and spoke in a stage whisper to them.
“Jack just got a date with Augusta.” He narrowed his eyes at me, and Red nodded.
“I know. Stumbled into one, looked like.” This got them an elbow to the ribs from Jack, and we all laughed, everyone hanging out until about six, when I left for the common room to change my socks and shoes. I’d made it out of the Great Hall, and a ways towards the staircases, when the sound of footsteps drew near.
“Hey, Siobhan!” I turned, and waited for Red to catch up.
“Always wanted to see the Ravenclaw common room. Plus, I need all the practice I can get with the stairs.” I snorted, and we made our way to the common room, Red complaining the entire way up the stairs, which I found funny. Once we’d arrived at the landing, I gestured to the knocker.
“Go on. But be ready to answer a question about magic.” They frowned, a little nervous, but leaned forward, knocking on the door. The knocker sprung to life, and spoke.
“What is another name for Aconite?” Red blanched.
“I’m rubbish at Potions.” I shrugged.
“Monkshood, or Wolfsbane.” The knocker nodded, and the door swung inward as it spoke.
“Well said.” I led the way in, and Red peered at the common room, excited.
“Wow! The Slytherin common room is so… dark, and moody. This feels more like a classroom.” I smiled at the walls of bookcases, the fireplace, and scattered tables, nodding in agreement.
“Yeah. I like it. C’mon, I’ll show you the dormitory.” We made our way into the second-year girls’ dormitory, and they nodded at the circular room full of beds.
“Yeah, pretty similar to ours. Do you really need the bookshelves?” I shrugged. Each bed had, in addition to a nightstand, it’s own desk and bookshelf, something I assumed the other dormitories didn’t have.
“Pretty much. Usually I’ll work on my homework at my desk, or in the library.” I sat on my bed, changing my shoes as Red poked around the room, ending up sitting at my desk.
“Some of these notes make no sense to me.” I looked up, and they held up a sheet of notes I’d taken when I was reading Contemplating Transmutation.
“Ah, that’s higher-level stuff. It’s a subset of Transfiguration, which deals with turning inanimate objects like buildings into different versions of themselves. Has a lot of application in magical architecture, and Arithmancy plays a part in it, as well.” Red pretended to fall asleep, and I threw a balled-up sock at them, giggling.
“I get it, you’re not a Ravenclaw.” They threw the sock back, affronted, as I stood.
“Excuse me, I was placed into the second-year Charms class, thank you very much.” Rolling my eyes, I led the way out and back towards the Great Hall, Red muttering out loud the directions I was taking on the staircase.
“Dunno if I’d say that out loud. Stairs have a habit of changing just to mess you up.” They threw up their hands in frustration, and I laughed again as we re-entered the Great Hall, meeting back up with the others.
“What’d you think of the common room?” Red shrugged, and I squeezed in between Marcy and Julien, Marcy muttering “Not again” to herself before moving down, and I stole a piece of a biscuit off of Julien’s plate.
“Hey! Those are my favorite.” I stopped before I ate it, and sheepishly handed it back. “Sorry.” He put an arm around me, and offered it to me.
“Not really. Just wanted to see if you’d give it back.” I took it, and ate it, hearing an almost imperceptible whistle of a sigh, but I wasn’t sure from where, and jumped as the plates magically cleared, meaning that the feast was about to begin. Dumbledore was wearing a pointy witch’s hat, and said a few words about the history of Halloween before allowing us to dig in. The Halloween feast was my second-favorite feast (second only to the Christmas feast) since all of the desserts came out with the main course, and they were all Halloween-themed. I took a bite out of a bat-shaped cookie, and almost choked on it from laughing at Marcy, who was pantomiming a ‘torrid moment between Jack and Augusta,’ Julien smacking my back to help me breathe. I ate more than my full during the feast, and by the time we left to go to the clubroom, I was slightly drowsy. Julien peeled off from the others, saying that he needed to grab something from the common room, and we made our way to the fifth floor, entering the clubroom to find a few people already there. Jack sat with Augusta, leaving Marcy, Red, and I to our devices, and I sprawled out on a couch, intent on taking a nap before the party. Red sat across from me, and Marcy laid down on the carpet, moaning about how much food she’d eaten. As I slipped into a wonderful nap, the doorway opened, revealing two people that made my blood run cold.
Dumbledore stepped through first, looking graver than I’d ever seen him, and raised his hands slightly at all the wands pointed at him (or, the wands pointed at the person behind him).
“I need all of you to stay calm. There has been an attack, and we are not sure how or what. The reason I, er, have brought this guest, is because he came to me, and the club, for help.” I didn’t lower my wand, eyes narrowing as Professor Kettleburn stepped forward, looking positively beside himself.
“My… My wife came to visit today. She hadn’t been to Hogwarts since her years here, and I assume she got lost. She sent me a message through her Patronus that a nice young boy, Mr. Montmorency, was going to guide her back to the Great Hall, but…” Dumbledore stepped in.
“The two of them have been… Petrified, I think. I confess I am not entirely sure, as I have never seen anything like it, but they are alive, simply… Paralyzed, for lack of a better term. It’s a miracle they aren’t dead.” Dread opened up in my heart, but I stayed focused, standing up from the couch and taking a step towards the pair, wand still up.
“You’ve been trying to shut us down, you terrorize us in classes, you look for every excuse to get us into trouble. Why ask for our help?” Kettleburn looked down, seemingly embarrassed.
“I… In all of my time here, this is the one group of students I know of that could help. I know that we’ve had our differences, but… with both Julien and Amelia Petrified, we have a common enemy, of sorts. I’m willing to try to make amends if we can figure this out. And save the two of them.” I was thunderstruck, and now realized that his expression wasn’t embarrassed, but more ashamed. I scrutinized his face carefully, and when I couldn’t find any deceit, I lowered my wand.
“Alright, everyone. Lower your wands.” Nobody moved, and to my surprise, Jack spoke up.
“Are you joking? Kettleburn has made my life hell for the past seven years. There’s no way I trust him.” I turned on Jack, scowling.
“Did I say to trust him? I said lower your wands. If we’ve got a common enemy that almost killed Julien, don’t you think whoever it is might be targeting us? And it can’t be Kettleburn, since his wife got attacked too.” A few people lowered their wands, but Jack didn’t move.
“How do we know he’s telling the truth? What if that’s not even Dumbledore, and all of this was a trap?” My scowl darkened, and I spoke without thinking, relying on the Magica Incatatio.
“Capillus subsisto lingua!” The hex, which I had just invented, struck him in the chest, and his hair lengthened before he could say anything, covering his mouth and wrapping around his tongue.
“Do you really think Dumbledore would be dumb enough to allow himself to be tricked? I’ll check, just to humor you.” I turned to Dumbledore, who watched me curiously.
“May I, Headmaster?” He nodded, and I cast a Revealing spell, which would dispel any magic (like a Polyjuice Potion) that may have been used to change his appearance. When nothing happened, I turned back to Jack, hands on my hips. He rolled his eyes, and lowered his wand. After I released the hex on his hair, it shrunk back to normal, and I sighed.
“Alright. Now that we’re all on the same page, what should we do?” Augusta moved forward.
“Well, in desperate times, I suppose. How do we get Kettleburn accustomed to the club? We need a working relationship, at least.” I frowned in thought, before a wicked smile crossed my face.
“He can sit with each of the groups, like a new member. Since there was an attack, I can assume we’ll be here for a while?” At Dumbledore’s nod, I sighed.
“Does that make sense?” Augusta nodded.
“Alright. I need to talk to my group, so could an older student from one of the other groups take Kettleburn first? He’ll rotate, let’s say every twenty or thirty minutes.” The other people in the room watched Kettleburn warily, and I walked over to where the other members of my group were, heaving a sigh of relief as one of the other groups pulled Kettleburn over to them. Jack was still fuming, but a look from me made him stop whatever he was about to say.
“Jack. You need to understand something. I’m not saying you have to propose to him, I just need you to work with him until this is figured out. Julien was attacked too, remember? Plus, if it’s some kind of monster, Kettleburn would be the best person to have in our corner.” He crossed his arms, glaring at the floor, and I shot an exasperated look at the others. Julia and Arthur seemed pretty noncommittal about the whole thing, while Marcy seemed to be on my side. Red looked upset, but they weren’t vocal about it. Some time passed, during which I read some more of the last book on the fifteenth shelf, Linguistic Interpretations of Ancient Witch Symbology. I was far too frustrated with Jack to join in with the group, much less worried about Julien, but I marked my page and closed the book when Kettleburn meekly walked over to our group.
“Er, hello.” I nodded, and Marcy flicked her wand, summoning a chair for him to sit in. I took the initiative, trying to keep things calm.
“I’m sorry about your wife, Professor. I’m sure she’ll be alright, especially with Dumbledore on the case.” He nodded nervously, eyes darting between everyone in the group (Jack was refusing to look up from the ground), before settling on Julia.
“You’re in Hufflepuff, is that correct?” At her nod, he continued, a sense of pride in his voice.
“That was my house, when I attended Hogwarts. I remember how a few of my friends and I would sneak food from the kitchens to raise a group of pixies we’d hid in the Library.” The corners of her mouth lifted, but she said nothing, and I pinched the bridge of my nose, just wanting them to get along. He saw this, and rolled his shoulders.
“Don’t be too down on yourself, Siobhan. It’s my fault our working together is so difficult. I realized that once I heard that Julien Montmorency offered to help my wife, even though he likely knew who she was. For so long I thought only of myself, and my own ideas about the world, which is ironic as a Care of Magical Creatures professor. But I’ve had to make peace with the fact that, just like in nature, witches and wizards are all different, and none are more or lesser for it. I’m trying to repair my relationship to this club, but I also understand that you all have every right to refuse to forgive me. And I respect your decision either way. Especially you, Jack. I’ve caused you no shortage of trouble during your time here.” Jack, for the first time, glanced up at Kettleburn with an emotion I couldn’t read.
“Those… Pixies. What happened when they were fully grown?” He smirked.
“They went on a rampage in the library. Madam Pince had the lot of us slaving away for the next month fixing everything.” Jack let out a quick snort, and sighed.
“I’ll work with you, since there are lives at stake on both sides. But don’t expect me to be best pals with you right off the bat.” Kettleburn nodded grimly, and Jack stood, walking over to where Augusta sat. Once he was out of earshot, Julia spoke.
“Went about the best it could.” Arthur nodded, setting his book down.
“Yeah. I suspect the Ravenclaw common room is going to be converted into a situation room, of sorts. Professor, you of course are welcome to come and help there, as well as here. Though it won’t be quite as discreet, of course.” I dragged a hand over my face, glad that the hard part was over, and looked up as Dumbledore stood in front of me.
“Miss Ollivander, if you would like to, I can accompany you to the Hospital Wing to see Julien.” The dread returned, and fear filled my face.
“Is he… Is he alright? Other than, you know.” Dumbledore nodded.
“Yes.” I stood, leaving my things in my seat, and left after bidding the others farewell. To my surprise, Red stood, but before they could ask to come along, Dumbledore nodded again. The trip to the Hospital Wing was quiet, the three of us running into Professor McGonagall on the way, who told Dumbledore that the lower half of the castle had been cleared. As we neared the door to the Hospital Wing, Dumbledore stopped.
“What is it, Headmaster?” He looked down his nose at me, and sighed.
“It may be… difficult to see Julien like this. Please, let me know at any moment if you wish to leave, and remember that he is still alive, and will be perfectly fine.” I nodded warily, feeling a hand slip into mine. I looked over, and Red smiled encouragingly at me, worry tinging their face as well. Dumbledore led the way into the Hospital Wing, where two beds had curtains drawn around them. Madam Pomfrey indicated which bed, and we moved over, me reaching out slowly, and pulling the curtain aside to reveal Julien, frozen in place, laying on the bed. His face was frozen into one of pure terror, looking at something, and his eyes were wide. If I didn’t know he was Petrified, I would’ve thought he was dead, and Madam Pomfrey set two stools next to the bed for us to sit on. We did, Red not letting go of my hand, and reached out with my free hand, gripping his, which was splayed outward, still warm. As I watched his face, eyebrows furrowed with worry, I noticed my vision begin to blur, and with a start, I realized I was crying quietly, tears dripping down my face. Red sniffled, and I looked over through watery eyes, seeing that they were crying as well, and wrapped them in a hug. Dumbledore closed the curtain, in order to give us some privacy, and I buried my face into Red’s shoulder, sobbing quietly.
An hour later, I stepped into the Ravenclaw common room to find that it had indeed been turned into a sort of ‘situation room’, disorganized tables and chairs now ordered in the middle, with chalkboards and corkboards scattered around it, older Ravenclaw students passing sheets of parchment and pots of tea and coffee rapidly. Once they noticed I’d arrived, most of the conversation stopped, and I assumed they knew about my relationship with Julien. Badeea, the older girl who’d sorted me my first year, walked over, and pulled me into a hug.
“Are you alright? I know it must be hard.” I nodded into her shoulder, having cried enough in the Hospital Wing, and once she let go, my eyes widened.
“I have an idea that might help.” She ushered me over to the tables, and I drew my wand, formulating a plan in my head.
“One of the books I read this year, called Magica Incatatio, talked about how spells are derived from Latin, and I used it to make a spell earlier today. So what if I made a spell to direct us to whatever did this?” Several skeptical looks shot around the table, and I sighed, knowing it was because I was a second-year.
“Here. I need a volunteer, but I can show you I’m serious.” Arthur raised his hand, and I focused, trying to remember the spell I’d used on Jack in the clubroom.
“Capillus subsisto lingua!” Once again, the spell made his hair grow out, and wrap around his tongue. I ended it, and looked around at the other older students.
“See? I’m being serious.” Badeea nodded in support, and I began to pace, trying to think of any spell that would work for what I needed.
“Hm, it would have to be a derivative of the Four-Point Spell, but to localize it to a specific thing? Especially since whatever did this is most likely alive, and magic gets finicky with living creatures. The Tracking Spell would work once I was wherever the creature was last, but I need to get there first.” I continued to pace, deep in thought, conjugating different words in Latin in different variations, until I had a few that I thought would work.
“Alright. I have a few spells in mind.” I moved to a more open part of the room, people watching me with interest, and tapped my wand on the spot between my eyes.
“Ostende mihi.” With a flash of light, my vision was magnified to the point that I could see individual threads of fabric in a blanket across the room, almost painfully so, and I shut my eyes, ending the spell and rubbing my eyes furiously.
“Not that one. Though it might be useful, too. Next one.” I laid my wand flat in my hand, and took a breath to steady myself.
“Dux malum.” My wand spun around in a circle, before pointing towards the door to the common room.
“Oh! I think it worked.” I headed towards the door, too engrossed in the spell to care I was technically sneaking out of the dorms, and heard a few older students fall into step beside me, Arthur among them.
“How does this spell work?” I spoke quietly, making my way according to the path the wand showed.
“It’s a combination of ‘guide’ and ‘evil’, with the intent being to guide or direct me to evil. Since we’re in a school, I assume the only ‘evil’ thing would be whatever was doing this.” We reached a spot on the third floor where the wand began to alternate between two different directions, and I frowned.
“What…” Arthur leaned over my shoulder.
“I think it’s pointing to two sources of evil, maybe? Let’s split the group up. Can any of the sixth- and seventh-years do that spell?” A few people tried, until one managed, and my wand switched back to one direction. After a word to be careful, the group split, Arthur staying with mine as we made our way down to the second floor, coming to a stop outside of the out-of-order girls’ bathroom.
“Huh. I didn’t think Moaning Myrtle was that bad.” I snorted, and ended the spell, readying my wand as I reached out to open the door, Arthur and the two seventh-years that’d come with us doing the same. The bathroom was empty, after a cursory search of the stalls, and I cast the Tracking Spell, blowing a thick golden mist out over the room. It showed a large amount of footsteps, obviously, but what interested me was a huge, wide series of markings that moved from the sinks towards the door.
“Interesting. Almost looks like a…” Arthur chimed in, stepping forward to inspect the sinks.
“A snake. Quite a large one, actually. Siobhan, what was the spell you used that magnified things?” I explained it to him, and he cast it, wincing slightly before bending to inspect the sinks in greater detail, while the other students cast a few spells. After a minute, he beckoned me over, and pointed at a small scratch in one of the taps.
“See that? If you angle your head, it looks almost like a snake.” I did, and could almost see the shape of a snake, though it felt like a stretch to me.
“We should get going. Don’t want to be caught out in the halls, especially tonight.” I nodded, and the four of us left, moving through a few corridors before I stopped.
“I just need to use the bathroom. Don’t worry, I’ll catch up.” I hurried back to the bathroom, and did my business, the quietness of the room growing eerie now that I was alone. I was almost finished and about to leave the stall when I heard the door creak open, whisper-quiet. Out of instinct, I sat back down, pulling my feet and robes up so that whoever was there couldn’t see, and listened hard as a set of footsteps walked through the room. I felt my foot slip, and before I could stop it, a near-silent squeak sounded. I held my breath, wand drawn, and to my horror the footsteps approached my stall. As the door started to swing open, I cast a Stunning Spell, and shoved my way out, trying to make it to the door. I crashed through it just as the person behind me shouted a spell, and I barely held in a scream as lines of fire erupted across my body. I fell back, back into the bathroom, and writhed on the ground, trying and failing to reach my wand. The person kicked me in the ribs, and raised their wand, speaking in a high, cold voice the one spell I was afraid they’d use.
“Avada Kedavra!” I rolled on instinct, feeling the spell tussle my hair as it passed through it, millimeters from my head, and snatched up my wand, which wouldn’t be much help, since I was a terrible dueller, but it made me feel marginally better.
“Er, uh, oh! Expelliarmus!” the shadowy figure deflected the spell into the ground, and whipped a nonverbal curse at me, which connected with my arm, resulting in a horrible crunching noise as I felt all of the bones in my arm shatter, down to my fingers. My left arm now hanging limp at my side, and overwhelmed with pain, I let my mind work on instinct, shouting words in Latin.
“Spiritus prohibere!” The figure doubled over, silent, and I made a run for it, tearing down the halls until I was far enough away that the spell ended, narrowly dodging Filch as I cried in pain, tumbling through the Ravenclaw door and collapsing on the ground. The older students sitting at the table all rushed over to me, and gingerly carried me to a couch, muffling my screams of pain by using a Silencing Charm on me. I was covered in blood, the lines of fire I’d felt being thin, deep cuts, and Talbott drew his wand, face pale.
“I have to repair your bones, but I can only do it once at a time. I am so sorry.” He began his work, each bone snapping back into place and repairing itself, accompanied by a wave of agony as Arthur used another spell to close the cuts. It was long, bloody work, but at around three that morning Talbott was down to just the bones in my hand.
“This is the hard part.” At my confused look, he gulped, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“There are only three bones in your arm, and eight in your wrist, but there’s nineteen in your hand.” I laid back, staring up at the ceiling in anticipation, and he took a few breaths to steady himself, before resuming. There were multiple times where an older student had to recast the Silencing Charm, as my screams broke through it, but after even longer, he finished around nine o’clock, and conjured a sling for my arm to ease the residual soreness. Arther helped me lay down on a couch, and I recounted as many details as I could, which was admittedly few.
“Where did the other wand point you?” Talbott sighed.
“Gryffindor common room. But, we left after it ended there, so my conclusion is that whoever is responsible for this left the common room and caught you in the bathrooms.” I shifted, letting out a small hiss of pain.
“At least that narrows it down some. But what could they be after in the second-floor bathroom?” He shrugged.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. I’ve split the group into two teams, one to observe the Gryffindors and try to narrow the suspects down even more, and another to dig into the history of Hogwarts to try and find out what relevance that bathroom could have. I think the snake markings the Tracking Spell showed tie in with this whole ‘Heir of Slytherin’ business. But, you need to rest.” With that, he procured a small vial, and handed it to me.
“Here. This’ll help you sleep.” I took it gratefully, and downed it, drifting off seconds later into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 8: The Chamber of Secrets
Chapter Text
As the year progressed, the efforts of Ravenclaw house to discover the culprit began to stagnate. The list of suspects had been narrowed to five, but the attacks continued, to the point that Dumbledore cancelled the Quidditch season, and there were rumors that the board of directors for the school had given Hagrid and Dumbledore the boot because Hagrid had been expelled under similar circ*mstances when he was at Hogwarts. Red and I would usually meet up either in the Great Hall, or the Hospital Wing, since we only really felt safe around each other, and one night as we were sitting with Julien, Red cleared their throat.
“Hey, er, Siobhan.” I looked up at them, noting how nervous Red looked.
“Yeah?” They shifted in their seat uncomfortably.
“I, er, want to be honest with you about something.” I leaned back, and put a hand over one of theirs.
“’Course. You know you can talk to me.” Red gulped.
“It… Well, it’s difficult to say, really… But, it’s strange, sort of, I suppose—especially for you, although maybe I’m overthinking it, but… Ever since I met Julien, I’ve, I’ve sort of had a crush on him.” This surprised me, but not as much as I suspected Red had been anticipating, since I had noticed a few glances and moments during the time that Julien had been Petrified. We weren't officially dating, even though I did like him, and I did my best not to be mean to them. I didn't particularly care, really, as I was moreso concerned with saving Julien and, by extension, the school, squeezing their hand supportively.
"Who knows, you might end up on a date with him once Hogsmeade trips roll around."
The club meetings had grown quieter and quieter, as the attacks focused on some of our members, namely Cho, a sixth-year Hufflepuff, and a Ravenclaw first-year. Kettleburn proved his worth multiple times over, collecting any and all information on how the attacks were perpetrated, symptoms, and situational evidence, and I noticed that even Jack was beginning to warm up to him, slightly. I had taken to staking out the second-floor bathroom as much as I could, only ever catching the hem of a cloak as it slipped out, or a cut-off whisper here and there. Towards the end of term, with people staying in groups and worrying about Hogwarts being shut down, I was once again in the second-floor bathroom, quietly reading a book in one of the stalls, wand out. There had been almost no activity, and I was beginning to lose hope of any chance at catching the culprit when the door creaked open. Not wanting to give myself away, I held my breath, listening as a set of footsteps moved softly towards the sinks. Once they stopped, I readied myself, and burst out of the stall, wand aimed at whoever was by the sinks.
“Got you!” They turned, and I was thrown off as I saw an older boy, who almost looked black-and-white, holding a young girl with bright red hair. Taking advantage of my confusion, he flicked his wand, and mine jumped out of my hand, landing deftly into his.
“So. You’ve been the one who has been attempting to catch me? You don’t look like much. Though, I am interested in that spell you used on me during that duel on Halloween. Immobilus!” I froze in place, against my will, and he waved his wand, bringing me over to him.
“Hm. Not much, indeed.” He drew back his free hand, and punched me directly in the forehead, knocking me unconscious.
I gasped, and sat up, an ache starting up in my head. My senses slowly came back to me, and I felt the cold, damp floor, looking around hazily to see that I was in a large room, laying on the floor. Next to me was the redhead, and the boy stood a little bit to the side.
“Finally awake. I was beginning to worry that I’d hit you too hard.” I jumped up, but he waved his wand again, forcing me back to the ground.
“I am interested to know if you have an idea of what that spell you used feels like. Spiritus prohibere.” I tried to gasp, but found I couldn’t, almost as if my lungs refused to work. I fell back, clutching at my throat, and he laughed, walking over to me.
“Not pleasant, eh?” The strength in my hands started to fail, and darkness tinged the edges of my vision, but I summoned what strength I had left and struck out with my hand, catching his knee and pulling him down to the ground, dropping my wand in surprise. Suddenly, I could breathe, and I crawled weakly towards my wand, turning and gasping out the hex I’d used on Jack. His swearing abruptly stopped, and I leaned back warily, trying to catch my breath. I was stopped by his hands wrapping around my throat, and I fought desperately, arms too short to reach his face. Once again, the darkness threatened to overtake me, but a spell shot into his side, knocking him off of me. I coughed violently, too weak to move, and saw someone confronting the boy through blurry eyes. They had a brief exchange, before the room began to shake, and, sensing I needed to do something other than lay on the floor, I weakly grabbed my wand, and crawled over to the girl. She was still breathing, but it was rapid and shallow, my vision clearing as I heard a hiss coming from behind me. Before I could turn fully around, my savior (who I now recognized as Harry Potter) shouted at me.
“Don’t look in it’s eyes!” I whipped back around, focusing on the girl, and swore creatively as I realized I had no idea what to do. She didn’t seem injured, and I noticed the hisses behind me had quieted, so I chanced a look behind me. I caught the tail of what I assumed to be the snake slipping around a corner and into a circular opening, followed by the boy, who looked furious. Seeing my opportunity, I stood, tried to pick the girl up, and when I failed I started dragging her by her arms down a long, wide hallway I assumed was the way out. I had just exited the room, and entered the hallway, when the snake exploded out of the wall directly next to me, hissing furiously, though thankfully something had clawed it’s eyes out. I froze, not daring to move an inch, and it turned to the sound of Potter climbing out of an opening back in the room, slithering away. I sighed in relief, and looked down at the girl, before looking back at Potter, who had somehow acquired a sword, and was barely holding his own against the snake. I was torn between cutting my loses and carrying the girl out, and helping him, but the choice was removed when the snake knocked the sword from his hands, backing him into a corner. Letting out a steady stream of raspy swears, I ran back into the room, not knowing what spell I could cast, and promptly slipped on the wet floor, cracking the back of my head on the ground. This seemed to have a positive effect, as the smell of my blood distracted the snake long enough for Potter to grab the sword, and lunge forward, stabbing the snake through the roof of it’s mouth. It gave one last jerk, and fell, crashing to the ground, and I took my chance, hurrying over to him and nodding.
“Thanks for the distraction.” I shrugged, and promptly paled at the sight of his arm, which had a massive fang imbedded in it.
“Er, Harry, your…” As soon as he caught sight of it, the color drained from his face, and he reached a hand over, pulling it out. Blood spurted out of the wound, and I caught a glimpse of the hole in his arm, which was enough to make me faint from shock.
I woke up in a warm bed, with two sets of eyes looking down at me, filled with worry. My vision was still blurry, and I groaned, weakly raising a hand. Someone grabbed it, and I squeezed gently, blinking rapidly.
“Wh-Where…” One set of eyes spoke, slowly coming into focus.
“Hospital Wing. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley carried you out of some great big chamber under the school, spouting nonsense about a ghost in a diary. Are you alright?” As my vision cleared, I saw that it was Julien speaking, and nodded weakly.
“Still alive. I’m glad you’re alright.” My eyes flicked to the second person, who I now saw was Red, and the person holding my hand.
“Gave us a scare, there. Just when Julien woke up, you went off and got into trouble.” Julien snorted, and reached behind him, procuring a glass of water and holding it to my lips.
“Here. Take small sips.” I did so gratefully, throat still aching from when the older guy had choked me.
"Er, how long was I out?” Julien peeked at a clock on the wall.
“Couple hours. I think you might be afraid of blood or something.” I rolled my eyes.
Red began to speak, but a bang from the doorway cut them off. I jumped, and barely had time to look before my parents were on the other side of the bed.
“Are you alright?”
“Dumbledore told us—”
“—were so worried—” They continued on like this for a few moments until Sophie put a hand on Emily’s shoulder.
“Let her breathe, dear. I think she’s had a hard enough day.” She nodded, and stepped back a little, still looking at me nervously.
“I’m alright, mums. Promise.” They shared a look, before Sophie seemed to realize that Julien and Red were there.
“Ah, and who might you two be?” Julien reddened, as did Red, and muttered a few noises approaching words. I decided to step in, in order to save them the embarrassment.
“That’s Julien. He’s a third year.” I then nodded to Red.
“And they’re Red, a first year.” Emily smiled at the two of them.
“Nice to meet you both. Although we should have a talk about keeping Siobhan out of trouble.” She ended the sentence with a pointed look, and I smacked her arm.
“Quit, mum.” She rolled her eyes, and I cleared my throat, which was still slightly sore.
“So. I’m heading to the clubroom now. Would you all like to come with me?” A little bit of the tension left, since everyone knew that everyone was (or had been) a part of the club, and Emily helped me stand as Julien and Red gathered their bags. As we walked out, Dumbledore stepped in, face brightening at the sight of my parents.
“Ah, Madams Ollivander. How nice to see you both!” Emily squealed, and darted forward, practically tackling him into a hug.
“Dumbledore! I’ve missed you so much. Regrettable circ*mstances, obviously.” He chuckled, and when she let go, he shook hands with Sophie.
“I was coming to check on Siobhan, but I see that she is in more than good hands. I don’t suppose you two are staying for a little while before departing?” She nodded, and Dumbledore joined our group, heading up to where the clubroom was. Once the coast was clear, we all entered, finding a few of the other students there. Marcy launched herself at me, fretting over me and leading me to a chair as she did. I waved her off several times, and exchanged nods with Arthur and Jack.
“Alright, then?” I shrugged.
“Still here. Anything happen while I was gone?” Jack shook his head, swearing as he played Julia in wizard’s chess.
“Not a bloody thing. S’pose that’s good, though. Augusta was in hysterics, but she’s calmed down a bit. Not nearly as annoying as Marcy.” She shot him a look, and I snorted, watching my parents amble around the room, chatting amiably with Dumbledore. Augusta sat next to me, and gave me a cursory look-over.
“I see you’re in one piece. Had me worried I’d need to find a new replacement for a little.” I smiled.
“Don’t worry. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” She jerked her chin in the direction of my parents.
“Who’re they?” I drew my wand, tapping it idly on my knee.
“My parents. Surprised you didn’t recognize them from the pictures.” She stood, patting my shoulder, and walked off, presumably to talk to them. The group fell into silence, and I pulled out my copy of Transitioning Witch, which I had slowly been making progress on through the year. The second year was definitely heavy on magical theory, but I enjoyed it, since I was interested in magical theory anyways. The big spell at the end of term (which was still a week or so away) was the first in a long line of Dark Magic, and was a custom spell called ‘Cessant Glandulae’, which would, if performed correctly, stop the production of hormones in my body, similar to puberty blockers. The third-year spell would stimulate the production of estrogen, but selectively starting up a hormone was much more complicated than shutting down the process entirely, which is why it came later. I probably could cast the spell now, but I wanted to wait until the end-of-year party, since it was becoming a sort-of tradition for me. Sophie walked over to me, and sat, smiling.
“Heard the news about you taking over the club once Augusta leaves. I’m proud of you, honey.” I smiled up at her.
“Thanks. I was pretty surprised when she picked me, honestly. Who was the leader when you went to Hogwarts?” She stood up, and I followed over to the wall of photos, her pointing out a thin, haggard-looking boy in the Class of ’78 picture.
“He was for the first part of our time. Remus Lupin. Nice boy, but a bit on the quiet side. After that was Olivia Green, another Ravenclaw.” I nodded, seeing a boy with shaggy black hair throw his arm around Remus in the picture.
“Who’s that? With his arm around Remus.” She sighed, and led me back to the chairs.
“Sirius Black. He went insane after Hogwarts, some say he’s the reason James and Lily died.” I gulped, but she shot me a comforting look.
“He’s in Azkaban, don’t worry. Now, how’re things going with Julien?” I looked across the room, where Julien was sitting with Marcy by the fire (Red was reading by the bookshelves).
“…Interesting. Red and I both like Julien. I'm trying to figure out what to do.” She nodded.
“It’ll work out, sweetie. Don’t worry. Reminds me of Emily, James, and I. Except, James didn’t fancy me.” I leaned back in my seat, and watched as Dumbledore performed a trick with his hat, Emily collapsing in a fit of giggles. Sophie watched as well, smiling slightly.
“What was the club like, when you went here?” She shrugged lightly.
“Fun. Especially when Remus was in charge. Of course, it was also during the rise of You-Know-Who, but we were just kids. Didn’t think it’d affect us, obviously. The number of times I had to stop her from going out after Death Eaters… We made it. All that matters, I suppose. And, we had you.” She put an arm around me, squeezing slightly.
“That made it worth it.” I reddened, and looked down at my shoes.
“Mum…” Thankfully Jack fell into the seat on the opposite side next to me.
“Hey, Siobhan. Er, hello, Mrs. Ollivander.” She nodded.
“What’s your name?” They shook hands across me, and he grinned.
“Jack. Gryffindor seventh-year. Your daughter is pretty bad-ass, if I say so myself. Taking on the Heir of Slytherin by herself and all.” I tried to covertly smack him, since I hadn’t told my parents about the incident where my arm had been broken, but she seemed to assume he was referring to the most recent time.
“Yes, she is. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the old clubroom. Glad it’s still going strong.” He nodded.
“Yep. And, get this: with the massive snake monster terrorizing the school, Kettleburn apologized. He worked with us since his wife got Petrified with Julien.” Sophie, who was normally unshakeable, looked thunderstruck.
“You’re joking.” The wall moved, and the man himself stepped in, accompanied by a pretty woman who I assumed was his wife. All eyes turned to him, conversations dying down, and he gulped before speaking.
“Hello, all. My wife wanted to meet the club that worked so tirelessly to save everyone, and I wanted to once again thank you and apologize for my behavior as a professor. It was entirely unprofessional, and I see that now. I will also be retiring at the end of term, as I feel I don’t belong in the teaching position any longer.” A few people stood to talk to Amelia, and Kettleburn walked over to me, shaking my hand.
“I appreciate you giving me the chance to make amends, Siobhan. And, Sophia, you and Emily should be very proud of your daughter.” Sophie seemed to get over her initial shock quickly, and shook his hand as well. The room fell silent once more as Jack stood, eye to eye with Kettleburn.
“Y’know, professor, a lot of us hated you. But, you worked hard to change, and even I will recognize that.” He then held his hand out, and after a moment, Kettleburn shook it.
“You all are some of the strongest witches, wizards,” he shot a look to Red, “and magic users I’ve ever met. Not just in magical ability, but in strength of character. It’s been an honor to get to know all of you.”
The end of term party was decidedly more exuberant than last year’s, mostly because exams had been canceled, but everything came to a standstill as Augusta cleared her throat.
“Alright, everyone. In my seven years, I’ve seen some incredible things. I’m sure the older students remember when Marcy bet Jack he couldn’t finish an entire tray of Pumpkin Pasties,” assorted snickers filled the room, “or when Andrew jumped into the lake and kissed the squid.” A few laughs, and she smiled briefly before her face sobered.
“But, like all things, my time as the leader of the club has come to an end. Endings aren’t necessarily a bad thing, and Siobhan has worked hard to learn her duties as the leader, and I think she will make a great replacement for me. So don’t take the mickey out of her next year, yeah? At least, not too much.” Everyone applauded, as did I, and the seventh-years assembled for their end-of-term photo. Seeing Jack and Marcy up there made me feel a little sad, but I knew we were still going to send owls back and forth, which made me feel a little bit better. I’d already performed Cessant Glandulae, to the cheers from the other members of my group, and excited to see what the next year had in store for me. The party kicked into full gear after that, the older students hugging their friends, some crying, until the younger students were sent to bed. As we were getting ready to leave, I hugged Red.
“See you at breakfast?” They nodded.
“Have a good night.”
Chapter 9: Summer
Chapter Text
The summer was fun, until news came in that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, which put my parents on high alert. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere unaccompanied, and even Diagon alley was noticeably grim, parents hurrying their children from store to store, wanted posters filling available surfaces. Along with the supply letter from Hogwarts came my Hogsmeade form, but also another letter, addressed to my parents. They didn’t let me read it, but late that night I could hear them talking quietly in the kitchen, which made me nervous. The club discussed Sirius Black almost non-stop through owls, people sending reports of rumored sightings, but I hoped what some people were describing as a pattern wasn’t accurate, since it meant he was most likely heading towards Hogwarts. Why he was going that way made no sense to me, but as the new leader of the club, I needed to make sure everyone was kept safe if Black was indeed heading to the castle. I was a little nervous at the prospect of having to deal with such a big problem the first year after Augusta left, but after a flurry of letters between the two of us I felt somewhat reassured. As the summer drew to a close, I prepared myself for the term, which promised to be a grueling one.
Chapter 10: The Dementor
Chapter Text
I met up with Julien and Red on the train, where we got a carriage to ourselves with the other members of the group.
“How was your summer?” I collapsed into a seat next to Red, leaning my head on their shoulder.
“Nerve-wracking. I went over a few safety precautions with Augusta, which helped.” The main problem was that Sirius had been a member of the club, so he knew how to get into the clubroom. I hadn’t totally made up my mind on how to deal with this, still trying to decide between setting up guards, or adding more protection spells, but I knew I had to do something. Red wrapped an arm around me.
“It’ll all be alright. Did you all hear about the dementors?” I frowned, though some of the others nodded. At my, and Julia’s confusion, Arthur spoke.
“The Ministry is sending dementors to guard the school. Dumbledore wasn’t too happy, rumor has it.” I looked out of the window, watching the landscape slide by, lost in thought. I was brought out of it by a knock at the carriage door, which slid open to reveal a haggard-looking older man, probably the new Defense professor.
“Is Miss Siobhan Ollivander here?” He looked vaguely familiar, and I raised a hand.
“That would be me.” He shut the door behind him, and took an open seat.
“It’s good to meet you. Dumbledore directed me to you, as you are the new leader.” I frowned, before a bolt of recognition hit me.
“Wait, aren’t you Remus Lupin? Sorry, er, Professor Lupin?” He smiled slightly, and nodded.
“Yes. I’m the new Defense teacher. I wanted to meet you before we got to Hogwarts. I’m not sure if you know this, but… Sirius Black and I used to be… together, before he was sent to Azkaban.” I could almost feel the pain in his voice, and I nodded encouragingly.
“I’m sorry. It must’ve been hard.” He nodded gently.
“Yes. More importantly, I stopped by to offer my help in the club. I know the other professors involved already assist you all, but with everything going on, it may be beneficial to have a professor that is present at the meetings. Plus, since this is your first year as the leader, I might be of some use to you.” I smiled, frowning in confusion as the train ground to a halt.
“What’s going on? We can’t be at the station already, right?” Lupin frowned, and stood, stepping out of the cabin after saying he was going to go check with the conductor. The five of us waited in an uneasy silence, the air in the cabin dropping a few degrees, which made me shiver. Just as I was about to go after Professor Lupin, the air became positively arctic, and the cabin door slid open, seemingly of it’s own accord. I was slowly overcome by a feeling of dread, so strong that I was almost paralyzed, and memories began to well up of some of the worst days of my life (having the bones in my arm re-set being an example), as a large, thin, and hooded figure floated eerily into the cabin. It had a long, black cloak, the tattered edges of which floated in a nonexistent wind, and as it breathed it drew long, rattling breaths, almost as if it was trying to breathe more than just air. I had kept my eyes on it, riveted with terror, as it swung it’s head around the room, before settling on me. For some unknown reason, it reached out towards me, a sense of hopelessness overcoming the dread as I fumbled blindly with my wand, trying to think of a spell, any spell, to get me out of this situation. It drew near to my face, and I saw underneath it’s cloak a far-too-large mouth, perfectly round with no visible teeth and cracked, chapped lips. It breathed in again, and I saw a thin stream of light moving from my mouth to it’s as I finally got a hold of my wand, the thing’s lips barely brushing mine as I cast a spell.
“Mutare Loca!” with a blinding flash of light, I was suddenly standing, facing the same direction, but the dementor was nowhere to be seen. I turned, looking around wildly as a lethargy set into my bones, and heard a muffled screech that grated on my ears to find that the spell had worked to a horrifying degree. I had said ‘Change places,’ and the dementor and I had indeed swapped places, but the large size of it meant that the thing had been bisected by the wall of the cabin, the lower half of it’s body falling to the ground as the upper half suffocated in the wall. As the screech stopped, I was hit by another wave of lethargy so strong I fell to one knee as someone burst into the cabin, vision growing cloudy.
I had moments of consciousness, a nervous Professor Lupin looking at me, being carried somewhere, and being laid down on something soft, and when I finally came out of it, I realized I was in the Hospital Wing, Professor Lupin sitting beside the bed. Seeing me awake, he leaned forward, worry clear on his face.
“Siobhan? Are you alright?” I nodded groggily, and nearly threw up as a powerful wave of vertigo hit me, accompanied by a strange feeling that I’d never felt before.
“Urgh. Something feels strange.” He reached into his robes, and handed me a piece of chocolate.
“Here. This’ll help. I’ve already gathered what happened from the others in the cabin. You’re lucky to be alive.” I nibbled at a bit of the chocolate, strange feeling not leaving, though I didn’t feel as nauseous.
“What happened to the dementor? I saw it… well…” He ran a hand through his hair.
“That’s the thing. Dumbledore is conferring with a few Ministry officials right now, as the dementor had no right to try to administer the Kiss, but… this is the first time in recorded history that someone has killed a dementor.” I frowned, mind beginning to race as I tried to figure out what he meant.
“Killed? And, why do I feel so weird?” I grappled with the new feeling in my head, concentrating hard, and was met, strangely, by a vivid memory of the socks I’d worn to the Christmas party. Specifically, it was almost like what the smell of blueberries looked like, though I had no idea what that meant, but I knew the socks had shown blue when I was confused, or thinking.
“Professor, are you, by any chance, thinking about a problem or something?” The feeling shifted, this time to a vague memory of vanilla, which I somehow instantly understood was curiosity.
“Why, yes I was. Why do you ask?” I struggled to get up, still a little weak, and he helped me to my feet.
“I need to speak with Dumbledore.” The trip to the Headmaster’s office flew by, Lupin helping me along, and once we were inside, I paid no attention to my surroundings, instead collapsing into a chair in front of the desk, where Dumbledore viewed me curiously, the same blueberry mixed with vanilla washing over me, with a tinge of anticipation, which reminded me of apricots.
“Are you alright, Miss Ollivander?” I leaned forward.
“Professor, something happened to me on the train.” The confusion switched to empathy (toffee) and a little amusem*nt (petunias).
“Yes, indeed. A dementor nearly gave you the Dementor’s Kiss.” I shook my head.
“No, not that. I used a spell right as it began to kiss me. Mutare Loca, which is just ‘change places,’ but afterwards, when it, er, died, I felt strange. When I was talking to Professor Lupin in the Hospital Wing, I started getting strange feelings, almost like memories of scents, or how something looked, but my mind subconsciously translated them into emotions.” His mood changed to awe (cinnamon), confusion, and excitement (pepper) so strong I sneezed.
“Like that. You’re in awe, confused, and excited.” The sentence was punctuated by another sneeze, and I held my nose.
“Excitement is like pepper. I’m sorry for sneezing, Professor, but you’re very excited, so it’s very strong.” I sneezed again, and felt him try to get his emotions in check, which helped slightly.
“How very… interesting. Remus, if you could give us a moment?” Lupin nodded, and handed me another piece of chocolate before excusing himself. Dumbledore stood, and waved his wand, a book floating from a shelf as blueberries overwhelmed me.
“As I’m sure Remus mentioned to you, there is not a single recorded incident of a dementor dying, or being killed. They sense prey by feeling for emotions, which is how they hunt. If, perhaps, the dementor had began to consume your soul, which some theorize is less of destroying it and more of taking it, combined with your spell, which was slightly rudimentary, no offense…” He placed the book on his desk, pulling another two off of the shelf and setting them down next to it. His mind turned towards an apologetic whiff of cloves, and he continued.
“If you would allow me to detain you from the feast, I would like to test a hypothesis.” When I nodded, he smiled, blueberries returning in full force.
“Close your eyes, and use your ability to detect my emotions to keep your finger pointed at me.” I did so, brow furrowing as I tried to home in on him, still detecting the blueberries, though it was a little more difficult not being able to see him. I moved my hand, sensing him move, pepper mixing with the blueberries. His voice spoke from his new location, my eyes still closed.
“Interesting. Now, I could tell it was slightly difficult due to me reigning in my emotions, but if I focus on a strong memory, or emotion, I wonder if it would be easier.” I was suddenly overcome by the stench of juniper berries, which translated to sadness, and shivered, locating him much easier, finger trained on him as he moved several times, the smell almost overwhelming me to the point of tears. The sadness abated, and I opened my eyes, looking directly into his from where he stood, towards the back of the office.
“How very interesting, indeed. In my opinion, what occurred between you and the dementor was nothing short of a once-in-history phenomena. Some Dark magic users have theorized that, in order to consume a soul, a dementor must intertwine their life-force, for lack of a better term, around the victim’s soul to draw it out. As this was occurring, you cast a spell similar to Apparition, and in doing so, killed the dementor. However, some of the dementor’s life-force was wrapped around your soul, as it was in the act of consuming, and thusly part of the dementor returned with your soul.” I was horrified, and I felt a tinge of amusem*nt from him.
“Don’t worry, Miss Ollivander. You are not going to become a dementor, though I will admit this is quite an interesting situation, if a novel one. I have already sent letters to your parents, as well as a quite strongly-worded one to the Minister of Magic, but I do believe that there should be some thought given to your condition, and whether or not you should return to your classmates at this time.” The empathy returned, and I frowned, confused.
“Why not? Er, why not, Professor?” He sighed, sitting behind his desk once more.
“As you are, to my knowledge, unable to control the extent of this new… ability, sensing the emotions of that many people simultaneously may overwhelm you at this point. Your parents are already on their way, and when they arrive, the four of us shall discuss a way for you to continue your schooling while also remaining… quarantined, in a sense, until you are comfortable enough to be able to continue as normal.” This seemed to make sense, and he drew his wand, wordlessly summoning a plate of sandwiches.
“Here. I shall retrieve something for you to drink from the kitchens, as well.” He stood, and I spoke as he left.
“Could you get me some Pumpkin Juice, please?” He smiled benignly, and his emotions faded as he left. I picked up a sandwich, not particularly hungry, and nearly jumped out of my skin as a chuckle broke the silence. Looking around, I spied the Sorting Hat, sitting on a shelf and looking as ratty as ever.
“What’s so funny?” The tear that it used as a mouth opened, and it spoke quietly.
“It seems your ambition was not unwarranted. Creating a spell like that, and only in your third year?” I scowled up at it, choosing to ignore it and eat. Dumbledore returned with a bottle of Pumpkin Juice and two glasses, taking a sandwich as I poured myself some.
“Sorry for all of this trouble, Professor. I wish I could have just one normal year at Hogwarts.” He chuckled, petunias perfuming my mind.
“My dear Siobhan, we live in a world of magic, where every day brings with it untold potential. A normal year is the rarest magic of all.” I giggled, and sipped more Pumpkin Juice. After a little while, a knock announced the arrival of my parents, Sophie cautiously entering while Emily nearly exploded into the room, bringing with her a rush of worry that smelled so strongly of cayenne pepper that my eyes watered. She was at my side in an instant, me downing Pumpkin Juice to wash away the burning sensation in my mouth, Sophie seemingly figuring out what was happening and prodding Emily. The feeling faded, still there, and I coughed.
“Hi, mums. Sorry, worry feels like cayenne pepper. Very spicy.” I drank more Pumpkin Juice as Emily hugged me, a wave of cherries crashing over me, signifying love, tinged with some confusion, most likely at what I’d just said. I blushed at how strong it was, struggling to maintain my composure as I picked up on Dumbledore’s curiosity, as well as Sophie’s worry (both of which were much less powerful than Emily’s), and looked up at Dumbledore as he cleared his throat.
“As I’ve said, she’s quite alright, though we have discovered a… side-effect, so to speak.” Confusion grew, and he continued, Summoning two chairs. As he explained the situation, I felt them go from confusion, to understanding (which had an interesting flavor of blackberries), to awe.
“So… you can feel my emotions?” I shrugged.
“Sort of. It’s more like… I can taste, or smell them? I don’t really understand it, but confusion kind of smells like blueberries, for example. My mind kind of… translates it, I guess.” They were both still confused, but it was tinged with some relief (a flowery smell I wasn’t sure I’d smelled before), and Emily hugged me again.
“Sorry for being so worried when I got here. Soph’s always had a lot more control over her emotions than me.” I smiled into her shoulder, and looked up at Dumbledore, who was viewing me over his hands.
“I believe it would be best if Siobhan spends some time separated from the other students, in order to gain some control over her ability, so she won’t be overwhelmed by so many different emotions. With your permission, of course, I would request she stay in one of the accommodations we typically use for professors, for the foreseeable future.” Sophie seemed alright with the idea, as did Emily, who let out a quiet whistle of appreciation, a whiff of petunias accompanying it.
“Staying in a professor’s lodgings? Pretty snazzy, Olive.” I reddened, and she poked me jokingly. Dumbledore smiled.
“I’m sorry to cause so much worry, but Siobhan seems to have recovered from the incident, and I have already sent word to Cornelius on the matter. I expect the dementors to lessen the amount of patrolling and to refrain from getting near the students, or else I will intervene personally.” This seemed to satisfy my parents, who, after Emily fretted over me again, departed, extracting a promise to write each day for the next week. Once they’d left, he smiled comfortingly, empathy trickling in.
“I’ll show you to where you’ll be staying. I’ll also instruct the house elves to move your belongings there, instead of the Ravenclaw common room.” We both stood, and as we left I shot a dirty look to the Sorting Hat. The trip through the castle was thankfully quiet, as the rest of the castle was still at the feast, and we entered a section of the castle I’d never been to before, Dumbledore telling me the password as we entered an ornate doorway. On the other side was a corridor similar to ones that held classrooms, though the doors were spaced a bit wider, and had brass nameplates on them. We passed by ones that read ‘M. McGonagall,’ ‘S. Snape,’ and the rest of the faculty, until we were near the end of the corridor, just across from one that read ‘R. Lupin.’ He opened the door, and we entered, finding a spacious den decorated cozily, a fire crackling in the fireplace.
“Here we are. The room is enchanted for a new professor, so there will be a letter in the study that explains the various features of the accommodations. Of course, you won’t be sending me grading reports or anything of that nature, so some information will be extraneous. I will also get into contact with some of the older Ravenclaws to see if it would be possible to re-route the library enchantment to the study, while you reside here.” I looked up at him, feeling slightly out of place staying with all of the professors, and he smiled, empathy returning.
“It will be alright, Miss Ollivander. Hogwarts will always accommodate it’s students, no matter the situation. If you need anything, feel free to ask me or the other professors. I’ll explain the situation at the first staff meeting.” I nodded, and he patted my shoulder before leaving me to explore. I did so, poking around the room and taking note of the paintings on the walls (mostly landscapes, though there was one portrait of a woman in an ancient-looking robe that winked mischievously at me, which made me blush). There were two adjoining doors, one of which led to a small study, complete with a few bookshelves and a desk, upon which sat a letter addressed to me.
Welcome, Professor Ollivander!
We at Hogwarts are delighted to welcome you to our faculty, which is an innovative, dynamic group of magic-users geared towards giving the students here the tools they need to succeed! Below you will find a list of the features available to you as a professor, and if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to reach out to Headmaster Dumbledore or one of your fellow professors!
Fireplace – connected to the Floo Network, though only within the castle. You can also send letters and other reports to the Headmaster’s office by tossing Floo Powder into the fire, followed by the documents in question with the phrase, “Headmaster’s Office”
Bulletin board – magically updated to display notices and staff meetings, as well as other pertinent information
House Elf – There is a house elf designated to personally assist you in matters such as tidying up, retrieving ingredients or books, and many other things! Your house elf is named: Jolly
I set the letter down, and looked over the bulletin board, which didn’t have much on it, except for the announcement of a staff meeting after the feast, as well as a weather report for the next few days. I made my way back to the main area, and headed into the second door, which led to the bedroom. It held a large bed, and a wardrobe, as well as a side-door that led to a bathroom. My trunk hadn’t been moved up yet, so I sat in a chair by the fire, twiddling my thumbs.
“Er, Jolly?” with a crack, a house-elf appeared by the chair, smoothing the front of her pillow-case dress, which was immaculate.
“Yes, ma’am? How can I assist you?” I figured that Dumbledore had given her the heads-up as to the situation, as her emotions seemed pretty muted, and I smiled. We had an ancient house elf at home, named Binky, and I absolutely loved house elves.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jolly. I just wanted to introduce myself.” She bowed, and replied.
“It is nice to meet ma’am as well. Would you like me to prepare some tea?” I nodded, and she vanished with a crack, returning after a minute with a pot and teacup. She spoke as she poured, setting the cup on a saucer and handing it to me.
“Once the feast is over, your trunk will be moved to your rooms. I have also received word from the Headmaster that the head of your house, Professor Flitwick, wishes to speak with you at your earliest convenience.” I took a sip, and gently set the cup down.
“If he’s finished in the Great Hall, could you let him know that he can feel free to stop in at any time?” She nodded, and spoke once more before leaving.
“Does ma’am require anything else?” I shook my head, and she Disapparated, leaving me alone. I enjoyed the tea, though it wasn’t my favorite (oolong was by far my preferred choice), and after a little while, I heard a knock at the door, accompanied by the feeling of excitement and curiosity.
“Come in!” The door opened to reveal the diminutive stature of Professor Flitwick, who bustled in, taking the seat across from me, smiling.
“Miss Ollivander. I’m glad you’re alright. As head of your house, the Headmaster informed me of your condition.” I smiled a little, sipping more tea.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want some tea as well?” He shook his head.
“No, though I do appreciate the offer. I’m just stopping by to check on you, as well as to let you know that we—that is, the professors—will do everything possible to make sure that your learning isn’t impeded by your inability to attend classes. It hasn’t been discussed, as the nature of your circ*mstances hasn’t been explained to the other professors in depth quite yet, but I would think that your learning would take on a more self-guided nature, which pairs quite nicely with your house.” I nodded, and sighed.
“I’m sorry for causing such an inconvenience. I’m sure it’s going to put quite a damper on things having me staying in the professors’ lodgings.” He quickly waved me off, chuckling.
“No, no, not at all. While it may take some adjusting, our primary concern as teachers is our students. As I said, I’m sure all of us will be quite committed to ensuring your continued learning.” With the business at hand taken care of, he seemed to relax a little, leaning forward conspiratorially.
“If I may ask, how has your progress in the library been going? I understand that Dumbledore will be working with myself and a few older Ravenclaws to move it to your study here.” I was down to eleven shelves, having secretly taken a few books home with me over the summer, and he seemed pleased at my progress.
“Good, good. I’m sure you’ll continue to excel, even with the change in circ*mstance. Ah, I’ve occupied too much of your time, and I don’t want to be late to the staff meeting.” He hopped out of the chair, and with a final goodbye, left, me returning to the tea, staring into the fire gloomily at the prospect of being isolated from my friends. A voice spoke quietly, and I looked up at the painting of the woman.
“Quite an interesting circ*mstance you appear to have found yourself in, hm?” I nodded.
“Er, yes. Sorry if you’re used to having a professor here.” She shook her head.
“No, this room has gone unused for some time, as a matter of fact. I’m glad to share it with someone. What is your name?” I smiled slightly.
“Siobhan Ollivander. You?” She brushed her bright red hair from her face, and smiled.
“Morgan Le Fay. It is a pleasure to meet you, Madam Ollivander.” My jaw dropped as I recognized her fully, having a few of her Chocolate Frog cards at home.
“You’re Morgana? Wow, that’s incredible!” Her smile soured slightly.
“I would prefer if you did not use that name for me. I am glad you know of me, however.” I apologized, and stood, walking over to her painting.
“I’m sorry. I’m surprised they have a portrait of you at Hogwarts, since you were a Dark witch.” At this, she scoffed.
“Dark witch—as if! My name was smeared in history by that brat, Merlin. I invented some of the first Healing Charms, you know.” I nodded, impressed.
“I was a member of Ravenclaw when I attended Hogwarts, which I am glad to see you are as well. I am afraid my presence in these rooms may lend some reasoning as to why they have fallen to disuse, but I assure you that my reputation as an evil sorceress is reputation only.” I smiled, and took another drink of tea.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you too.” Another knock sounded, and as the door opened I was met with the smell of cayenne and juniper berries as Professor Lupin entered.
“Hi, Professor.” He nodded, and when I gestured, he sat in the chair by the fire.
“I’ve just come back from the staff meeting. Figured I’d check in with you before you turn in.” I shrugged, and sat across from him.
“We—that is, the professors—have all agreed to figure out a way to continue your education as smoothly as possible. Some of us less willingly than others.” He shot me a wry smile, and I got a bit of petunias from him. I didn’t press him, though, instead leaning back in my chair.
“Thank you. I already said this to Professor Flitwick, but I’m sorry if my being here makes it a bit awkward for everyone.” He waved me off, running a hand through his hair.
“Not at all. Especially not for me, since I’m just now returning to Hogwarts.” I refilled my cup, offering him some, and when he accepted I Transfigured the saucer into another cup.
“Thank you. Hopefully you settle in rather quickly, eh? Try not to get into too much trouble, either, since the professors are next door.” I grinned, and we spent a little while chatting about his time at Hogwarts, as well as Defence Against the Dark Arts, before he excused himself to go to bed. I did the same, crawling into the large bed and looking up at the ceiling, wondering if anything in my life would ever go as expected.
Chapter 11: Sirius Black
Chapter Text
The next morning, I was momentarily confused as to where I was, but the events of the previous day returned quickly. I groggily climbed out of bed, throwing on a fluffy bathrobe that had a Hogwarts crest embroidered on the chest, and stepped out into the main room. Jolly was waiting by the fire, tea already prepared on the little side table, and handed me a copy of the Daily Prophet, which I took gratefully.
“Good morning, ma’am. I hope your night was restful?” At my nod, she continued.
“I’m glad to hear it. As the term doesn’t start until tomorrow, there aren’t many notices to give, though Professor McGonagall wishes to meet with you in the lounge at your earliest convenience.” I assumed she meant the wide room at the end of the hallway, which I hadn’t seen much of last night, and nodded.
“Alright. Oh, could you please start preparing oolong tea for me in the mornings, if possible?” She nodded quickly, and I smiled.
“Thank you. That will be all.” Once she disappeared, I turned to Morgan’s portrait.
“Good morning, Morgan.” She dipped her chin slightly, and stepped through the edge of her painting, emerging into the one next to it, a gently sloping garden, which had a large mansion in the background.
“Good morning to you, as well. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, when you return from your appointment with Professor McGonagall, would you be inclined to describing your condition to me? I do have quite a complex knowledge of magic that may be of some use.” I shrugged, and we spent the next few minutes chatting amiably until my tea was gone. Bidding her farewell, I left, heading down to the brightly lit lounge, which had a scattering of couches and overstuffed armchairs, finding McGonagall by a window, reading the paper.
“Good morning, Professor McGonagall.” She looked up, and gestured to a seat near hers.
“Good morning, Miss Ollivander.” I suddenly felt underdressed, since she was already in her robes, while I was still in a bathrobe. Her emotions were so rigidly controlled that I was barely able to detect a trace of curiosity, but nothing else.
“I simply wanted to speak with you, in light of recent events. At the staff meeting last night, Professor Flitwick mentioned your worry that your staying here would be cumbersome to the faculty, which I would like to be the first to disprove. As I’m sure he told you, our first concern is the wellbeing of the students, and so we are all more than happy to help you in any way possible. Within reason, of course.” I nodded.
“Thank you, Professor.” With that out of the way, she steamrolled on, much the same as she did during classes.
“For some of us, your work will be easy to complete from your rooms, but for certain classes, such as Potions and Herbology, as well as Defense Against the Dark Arts, there is a need for in-person lecturing. With this being the case, Professors Snape, Lupin, and Sprout have all agreed to meet with you after dinner, or when their schedules allow during the night.” At the thought of a one-on-one Potions class with Snape, I instinctively pulled a face, which earned me a slight crease in her eyebrows.
“I trust that isn’t an issue for you?” Fundamentally, it wasn’t, since any and all Ravenclaws were used to getting minimal hours of sleep, so my distaste was entirely at the prospect of Potions, but I shook my head quickly.
“No, not at all.” Satisfied, she turned the page of her newspaper, and I took that as my cue to leave. As I was walking down the corridor to my room, I ran into Lupin, who somehow looked even more tired after a night’s rest.
“Morning, Professor.” He blearily waved, and once I was back in my rooms, I explained what had happened on the train, and the subsequent developing of my ability, to Morgan. She seemed very interested, since nothing like this had ever happened before, and we spent the majority of the morning discussing the subject. She had minimal knowledge of dementors, since apparently they hadn’t been discovered until the fifteenth century, much after her time, but my situation still interested her greatly. Dumbledore stopped by around one in the afternoon to let me know that they’d cleared up the issue with the library, and I spent the rest of the day reading, eager to catch up on lost time.
The beginning of term was definitely an interesting one, as I only ever left my rooms to go to night classes. Jolly brought me my meals, and my only interactions with people outside chance encounters were with Snape, Professor Sprout, and Professor Lupin, which made me feel quite lonely. I explained the situation to the other members of the club in a letter, and kept up a correspondence through Lupin, who served as my intermediary. It was difficult getting used to this style of learning, especially when I discovered that even being around four or five professors at the same time in the lounge was enough to make me shut down, but I made progress. Eventually, one morning as the leaves started to turn, I was able to sit with more than six people at the same time. It was a far cry from being able to resume classes, but I was over the moon, writing to the other members of my group about it as soon as I got back to my rooms. That night, while I was still riding the high from earlier, a quick knock, quiet but insistent, pulled me away from the book I was reading.
“Come in.” The door quickly swung open to reveal Lupin, clutching a letter in one hand and a folded sheet of parchment in the other, carrying with him such a strong wave of excitement and worry that I sneezed continuously for the next minute until he managed to calm himself down somewhat.
“I’m sorry, Siobhan, I forgot—” waving him off, I indicated the letter and parchment.
“What is it?” He seemed to remember why he was here, another wave of excitement hitting me, and hurriedly sat while I sneezed again.
“Look at this letter.” I took it, and scanned it, noting that whoever had written it had done so quickly, their messy script almost indecipherable:
Moony
Found Wormtail. Use old map if still have it. I was right. LF
Padfoot
I frowned.
“What does this mean?” He held out the paper, and I unfolded it to reveal a map of the castle, complete with little nametags for different people.
“I confiscated this from Harry last night, and received the letter this morning.” He proceeded to tell me a long story of how both Sirius and a boy named Peter Pettigrew (As well as James Potter, though that wasn’t important to the story) had all became unregistered Animagi during their stay at Hogwarts, as well as the fact that they’d made this map to track the locations of teachers, so they wouldn’t be caught sneaking around the castle at night. Apparently, Lupin believed that Sirius somehow hadn’t killed Pettigrew, and was innocent. I was hesitant to agree, since they had been dating pretty seriously both during and after their time at Hogwarts, and I expressed my concern to him.
“Professor, are you sure you aren’t just… Looking for a way to redeem him?” He thought for a long time, confusion strong, and shook his head.
“No, I don’t think so. But, that’s why I’m telling you, of all people. Do you think you could detect when someone was lying?” This was a new concept to me, one I hadn’t even considered, and I scratched the side of my head, thinking out loud.
“Maybe. But I’ve never… read someone as they were telling a lie before, so I wouldn’t have a frame of reference. Are you seriously suggesting what I think you are?” He nodded eagerly.
“Here. Let me tell you a lie, so you can get an idea for it.” I stopped him before he could continue.
“It needs to be a big one. If I just get a little bit of dishonesty, it might be too easy to confuse it for the truth. So, how about telling me one big lie, something you’d never believe, and one big truth?” He nodded slowly, thinking again.
“Well, the lie is easy.” He straightened a little.
“I, Remus J. Lupin, always hated Sirius Black.” His poker face was pretty good, but a strong wave of coriander washed over me, and I gagged a little.
“Okay, got it. Now the truth.” This seemed to be a much more daunting prospect, and he fidgeted in his seat.
“This doesn’t leave this room, understand?” I nodded quickly.
“’Course. None of this conversation will.” This reassured him, and, after a long pause, he spoke quietly, not making eye contact.
“I, Remus J. Lupin, am a werewolf.” I tried to maintain a straight face, but the smell of truth was a piercing one, which smelled like freshly-cut grass, and my nose wrinkled a little bit.
“Alright. I promise I’ll never tell a soul, and now we have a baseline. If you really want me to act as a lie detector, you’ll need to be ready to protect me if he’s lying, understand?” He nodded.
“Yes. I… I think that, if it would work for you, that we should set up a meeting with him this weekend.” It was currently Tuesday, which was more than enough time for me to decide if I was fully in on the idea, and I nodded.
“That sounds fine. Just let me know when and where.” He gave me a curt nod, and stood, face not betraying anything, but as he left I was overwhelmed by the scent of hope.
That week passed agonizingly slow, with most of my free time spent worrying over whether or not I should go. If he was wrong, and this was some trap that Black was setting, then the two of us were certainly going to die. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but as Saturday drew closer, my nerves worsened. Thankfully, the combination of being a ruthlessly efficient Ravenclaw and being able to work at my own speed meant that my assignments (a true-or-false response for Charms, several reading assignments, and a brutal three-foot scroll on the history of the Draconifors Spell) were completed quite handily. I kept an eye on Lupin when I could, and every time he was near me he practically radiated hope, and love, so much so that if I spent too much time near him I would start blushing. Friday night, I had Potions with Snape, which was not something I was excited for. Snape was a very accomplished Occlumens, which meant that I rarely felt his emotions (something I was not particularly upset about), but that night, I was demonstrating how to brew the Antidote for Uncommon Poisons, a very tricky potion I had been fretting over for quite some time. Snape loomed over me almost the entire time, hardly ever speaking, the smoke from my cauldron giving a hazy, almost otherworldly look to him. As I completed the potion, filling a small bottle for him to test, I tripped, thankfully keeping a tight grip on the bottle, but I knocked into the table, cutting my hand open on one of the knives I’d used to mince hellebore. I swore, looking around for a rag, but as he appeared at my side, worry broke whatever concentration he had over his emotions, and released the floodgate for the rest of them, only for a split second. I felt worry, curiosity, and an envy so deep it almost made me throw up (envy smelled like pure vinegar), though it wasn’t directed at me. I struggled to keep my face under control as he summoned bandages for my hand, using a rudimentary healing spell to stitch the cut up. Once I was alright, he retrieved the potion, and left me to my own devices as he tested it. I took a moment to collect myself, and stood back up, heading over to his desk. After a few minutes of intense scrutiny, he nodded, seemingly to himself.
“Congratulations, Miss Ollivander. Full marks.” I smiled thinly, a little flustered, and began to pack my things.
“I would suggest going to see Madam Pomfrey for your hand when you have time.” I stammered out a quick affirmative, and farewell, before hurrying out. Once I was safely in my rooms, I collapsed into my chair, exhausted. Seconds later, Lupin entered, and I had to fight back a scowl at being interrupted in dozing.
“Are you ready? The meeting is tonight.” I nodded wearily.
“Yep. Where to?” He smiled tightly.
“The Whomping Willow.” I blanched, in the process of getting up.
“Are you joking?” He shook his head.
“I’m afraid not. Don’t worry, I think I still remember how to get past it.” I resumed getting up, resigning myself to an early death (at least I wouldn’t have to turn in Snape’s next essay), and pulled on a coat.
“Alright then. If you aren’t killed by that tree, I’d appreciate if you gave my eulogy.” This got a snort out of him, and we departed, making our way through the halls of the castle by the torches dimly flickering in their sconces, until we reached the entrance to the Whomping Willow’s courtyard.
“Ah, where is it…” I shot him a look of incredulity, hoping he wasn’t talking about the giant, murderous tree, and muffled a squeak of surprise as he darted forward, into the range of the tree. Sure I was going to watch him die, I was rooted to the spot as he made careful movements, stepping back and forth, sometimes even backing up a step, until he was crouched underneath the base of the tree. My jaw was practically on the floor, and he drew his wand, tapping a gnarled stump on the trunk of the tree, which somehow froze it into place. He beckoned, and I jumped, hurrying until I was crouched next to him, watching the tree fearfully.
“Don’t worry. It’s frozen for a few minutes. C’mon.” He vanished, and after a moment of searching I discovered a small hole he’d crawled down into, which led into a tunnel.
“Where does this go to, Professor?” I only had to bend over a bit, while he was almost on all fours, and he shot a grimace over his shoulder, speaking with a little difficulty.
“Out to the Shrieking Shack. When I was a student at Hogwarts, they hadn’t invented the Wolfsbane Potion just yet, so Dumbledore had the Willow planted over the passage for me to sneak out during my transformations.” I was impressed that the legendary tree had been planted for him, and said as much, getting a dry chuckle accompanied by a feeling of deep sadness.
“Some prize. Hold on.” We paused, and I drew my wand, him doing the same, before he quietly moved something ahead of us. Still gesturing for me to be quiet, he continued, and presently I stepped out into the ramshackle interior of the Shrieking Shack. The torn-up furniture and deep, long scratches in the floor and walls definitely gave credence to his story, but my attention was focused on the large, shaggy black dog that was standing across the room. A rush of love, tempered by worry, flowed from Lupin, and I put a hand on his arm to steady myself.
“Sorry.” It muted a little, and we both returned our gaze to the dog.
“It’s alright. She’s a friend.” The dog snuffled, growled, and to my extreme surprise, transformed into the malnourished, demented form of Sirius Black, somehow looking worse than in the wanted posters.
“Remus, who is she?” I gulped, wand still out.
“She’s the one who killed a dementor. I’m sure you’ve heard a few rumors passing through Hogsmeade.” His gaze returned to me, calculating, and I noticed that I had subconsciously scooted half-behind Remus.
“She can detect other people’s emotions. Dumbledore says it has something to do with almost getting the Kiss. With her help, I’ll be able to know if you’re telling the truth. Did you do it? Did you give them up?” Pain flashed across his face, and I sensed sadness from both of them, but tried to focus on Sirius as he responded.
“No. I never, ever would do that to James. Or Lily.” Pure truth, harshened by pain, struck me, and I gulped, tearing up slightly from how strong the emotions were. I looked up, meeting Lupin’s gaze, and spoke quietly.
“He’s telling the truth.” As relief filled my mind, Lupin stuffed his wand into his pocket, striding purposefully over to Sirius, where he swept him into an embrace, kissing him deeply. The amount of love between the two of them caused me to sit down roughly, onto the floor, face beet red, but I figured I shouldn’t interrupt right away, since they’d been apart for almost thirteen years. Almost as a by-product of feeling their love, my thoughts began to turn towards Red, and Julien, the situation with both of them already feeling the strain of my being isolated. Thankfully, my thought process was interrupted by a loud throat-clearing, and I looked up to see Lupin straightening his shirt.
“Er, sorry, Siobhan. I was just relieved that…” I waved him off, standing and brushing the dust from my robes.
“Don’t worry, Professor. So, what do we do now? The three of us all know that you’re innocent, but that’s a far cry from overturning a Ministry ruling.” Sirius scratched the back of his head, apparently not having thought that far ahead. Lupin spoke quietly.
“Perhaps he should return to the castle?” Solving problems relating to smuggling and crime was much easier than love, so I tackled it eagerly.
“Maybe. But I feel like if you suddenly refused to leave your rooms it would be a little suspicious.” He blushed, and the three of us fell silent, during which time I started to pace. Sirius was the next to speak.
“Well, what if you got a dog? I have heard a few rumors about you, and, no offense, they say you’ve been isolated from others until the whole ‘emotion-telepathy’ thing gets easier. I could be a therapy dog.” I hadn’t considered this, and, given the alternatives I had in mind (which included him living in the Shack, or the Forbidden Forest), it was definitely safer for him, and made it easier for Lupin to see him.
“I suppose that might work. You’d have to be extremely careful not to get caught, though I suppose I could get you food.” Lupin liked this idea, and I figured it would work for me as well, since I was a little lonely.
“It’s settled, then. Shall we? I’d quite like a shower. Think I caught some fleas in Azkaban.” I wrinkled my nose, which got a laugh out of him, Lupin smiling as well. The three of us made our way back to the castle, Sirius turning back into a dog before we exited the tunnel, Lupin freezing the tree so we could safely leave. As the three of us walked to the professors’ lodgings, we ran into the one person I didn’t want to see in any situation, let alone one where I was smuggling a wanted criminal into a school.
“What… is this?” Snape sneered down his nose at Lupin, and I figured I should take the initiative.
“My new therapy dog, Professor. Professor Lupin was walking back from the library when I came back from letting it out, so he decided to walk back with me.” His attention briefly moved to me, before returning to Lupin.
“Hm. Is this the case, Remus? As it was my impression you’d already done all of the research you needed for your next week of lecturing.” I swore internally, but Lupin was quicker on the draw than I expected.
“Yes it is, Professor Snape. I was reviewing my notes, and realized I needed an additional citation for the anatomy of chimeras. I’m sure you’d understand that I’d like to be more than certain my information is accurate?” Snape’s sneer turned to a scowl, but he remained civil, simply nodding.
“I suppose. I would hope you are not regressing to your days at Hogwarts, especially around such an… impressionable student.” There was a beat of silence, during which Lupin smiled genially, and Snape sighed, shooting me one last glance before sweeping away. We resumed walking, and once he was out of earshot, Lupin chuckled.
“Ah, good old Snivellus. He’s one to talk about ‘regressing to his days at Hogwarts.’” I smiled a little, and once the three of us were back in my room, Sirius changed back, heading to the shower while muttering vaguely about fleabites. Lupin watched him go, and I smiled to myself, looking into the fire drowsily.
The next morning, I woke with a start in the chair I’d been sitting in, Sirius gently shaking me awake.
“Hey. Siobhan. Mail’s here.” A shower and a night’s sleep in a bed (I figured he’d taken the bed since I had fallen asleep in the chair) had already done wonders, though his eyes were still a bit sunken, and his beard was patchy. He perched himself on the other chair as I rifled through my mail, absentmindedly chewing on a bagel (Jolly had delivered a small breakfast spread while I was asleep).
“Oh, give me that magazine when you’re done, eh?” I looked up from a free copy of Quidditch Weekly, and tossed it to him.
“I’ve not got much use for it. Barely understand Quidditch.” He pretended to faint from shock, which got a snort out of me, which abruptly stopped as I saw a letter from Kettleburn. He’d apparently moved out to northern Scotland, and was having a whale of a time raising hypogriffs (I learned this from Dumbledore), but this letter was, sadly, not pictures of baby hypogriffs.
Siobhan,
Since you’re the new leader, figured I’d send you this. Some of my old acquaintances, from certain… circles sent me a copy. Not sure if it’ll be very widespread knowledge, but I’d rather you prepared just in case. Hypogriffs are well.
Professor Kettleburn
Attached was an article from a paper I’d never heard of, though the editor, Barnabas Cuffe, was the editor of the Daily Prophet. I scanned the title, and, upon comprehending what it was, dropped everything I was holding out of shock. Sirius, noticing my reaction, hopped out of his chair and snatched the paper from me.
“What’s… oh.” The paper, which was named The Stormer, was headlined by an article titled “'Magic Users': The New Plague on Wizardkind”
Chapter 12: The Note
Chapter Text
After a flurry of notes and tense discussions with Lupin and Sirius, I found myself once again in the clubroom, standing in front of the entire group. Kettleburn’s prediction had been false; apparently Cuffe’s article had spread like wildfire that morning, especially among the Slytherin table, though that was mostly hearsay for me. I’d called an emergency meeting, throwing caution to the wind on whether or not I’d even be able to remain conscious around so many people, but Sirius joined me in dog-mode, which helped a little. I still couldn’t make much eye contact, especially with how worried everyone was, and Lupin stood nearby, I assumed ready to catch me. Dumbledore was there as well, and Madam Hooch, which impressed to me how serious this situation was, and I felt the eyes of the entire club on me as I stood up from the desk.
“Hey, everyone. Before we get into this, I just wanted to thank you all for being accommodating with my… er, condition. But, that’s not why I called the meeting.” I held up the copy of the article.
“This is. Kettleburn sent me a copy early this morning, and while he hoped it wouldn’t be too widespread, obviously it is. What this means for people like us, not just in Hogwarts, but in Britain, I can’t really say right now. It’s too soon, but the reactions from some of the other students haven’t been great, or good even.” Worry became tinged with fear, and I reached out a hand, Sirius sticking his head into it. I took a breath, and continued.
“What we need to do now is stick together. Whatever happens, we need to look out for each other. No matter what house, what year. In fact, if possible, I’d like for every person here to find at least one other member that shares a class with them, so they know who to turn to for help if something happens. That’s not restricted by group, either. Anyone that needs help will get it. Our priority is each other.” The fear had begun to lessen, though the worry stayed, and I heard Dumbledore speak up.
“Indeed it is. Myself—and I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Lupin—will keep an ear to the ground, so to speak, for anything occurring within castle walls that may affect you all as well, to act as an early-warning system.” With Dumbledore backing me up, I felt a lot of relief, which was mirrored in the group, as well. Cho Chang was the next to speak.
“I’ve got Potions Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at eight. Anyone else?” As the club separated, people forming microcosms of shared schedules, I sat down wearily, talking quietly to Sirius.
“I dunno why this is so hard for me now. I wish I could turn it off.” He snorted, laying down and looking up at me. A hand landed on my shoulder, and I glanced up at Dumbledore, who was smiling benignly.
“That was well-said, Miss Ollivander. I understand that even being around this many people in ideal circ*mstances would be a great strain.” I smiled weakly.
“And this must be the new therapy dog I’ve heard of from Professor Lupin!” He, to my surprise (and slight worry) leaned down, scratching Sirius behind the ears.
“Yes. He’s helping a lot, and I haven’t had him for very long.” Dumbledore looked up at me, a twinkle in his eye.
“I’m glad he’s helping. Just make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble, hm?” I was practically sweating bullets, but I kept my face in check, nodding jerkily. Thankfully, this satisfied him, and after another glance at Sirius, he stood, stepping away. I looked down at Sirius, and could’ve sworn he was grinning at me. Shooting him a scowl, I instead focused on making sure everyone was at least paired off (going around to each small group, Sirius in tow), and once I was certain (having checked with everyone several times), I spoke up again.
“Alright, everyone. Be very careful leaving the clubroom today, and I’ll be sure to update everyone as soon as I get any information. Stay safe.” I waited until the last group of people left (a few Gryffindor fifth-years), and, slightly miffed that neither Julien or Red had talked to me, made my way back to my room, Sirius in tow. About halfway there, I was walking down a mostly-empty corridor when a hex struck me square in the back, knocking me over and paralyzing me. Since I couldn’t move my arms to break my fall, my nose crunched against the floor, and broke, hot blood spurting out as I heard a deep growl from directly next to me. This was followed by swearing and receding footsteps, Sirius gently rolling me over with his nose. We had to wait until whoever had done it was far enough away for the hex to wear off, and during that time he kept guard, occasionally shooting me a glance. After what felt like an eternity, I could move, and cursed at nothing as I stood.
“Yes, I’m fine. We need to get back quickly.” We set out again at a much faster rate, making it back to my rooms and quickly shutting the door. I swore thickly as I drew my wand, carefully aiming it at my nose.
“Episkey.” With another crack, my nose re-set itself, bringing another wave of pain, and I sat grumpily in a chair by the fire, Sirius (now in human-mode) watching me worriedly.
“Are you alright?” I was scowling at the fire, but nodded at Morgan.
“Yes. Just a hex from another student.” Sirius snorted.
“If that had happened while I was a student here…” He let the threat hang, which comforted me a little.
“Yeah, yeah. Appreciate you scaring them off.” This got a nod from him, and I went to my room to change out of the bloody clothes. By the time I’d returned, he had claimed a chair, nose-deep in Quidditch Weekly.
“You know, you did a good job in that meeting. Not just in dealing with the emotion thing.” I shrugged, tired from feeling that many people’s emotions, and picked up the rest of my mail, which I’d forgotten to sort through in the chaos of the morning.
“I tried to. Of all the times this could’ve happened, it had to happen during my first year in charge.” He glanced up momentarily, but said nothing. I resumed looking through the mail, smiling at a photo my mums had sent from a family vacation in Dover. It was always odd to see my great uncle in any place other than the wandshop, but he looked like he was enjoying himself, the version in the picture inspecting a tree, probably for wandwood.
“Here, look at this photo my parents sent me from Dover.” Sirius inspected it, and snorted. “So, those two are your parents? Ah, I kind of see it. For the longest time I loved taking the piss out of your mum for being related to old Ollivander. ‘Hey, I broke my wand, can your uncle make me a new one before Charms?’” I rolled my eyes, and cracked open the copy of the Daily Prophet.
The next few weeks were rough, even though I was somewhat sequestered from the main student body. When Sirius wasn’t ‘visiting’ with Lupin, he was with me in the clubroom, tending to wounds from hexes and jinxes. This was easier, since there weren’t as many people, but I got used to the scent of pain (an almost ammonia-like smell) quickly. Sirius was a big hit with everyone else as well, and I was beginning to believe in the idea of a ‘therapy dog’ more and more. I would’ve rather avoided being around groups of people, but I had to take care of them out of necessity, and it gave Sirius an excuse to leave the lodgings, even if it was to go to the clubroom. Late one night, while I was buried two stacks deep in books and parchment (mid-term essays were no joking matter this term), Jolly appeared with a crack beside me, holding a folded-up note.
“Letter for you, ma’am.” I thanked her, and took the note, glad for an excuse to take a break. Sirius’ head perked up from where he’d been falling asleep, and I dropped into the chair across from him, unfolding the note.
“Got something good?” I shrugged, waving the note in front of him.
“Does it look like I’ve opened it yet? For all I know it could be a jinxed scrap of parchment.” He rolled his eyes, and I opened it, recognizing the familiar handwriting of Julien.
Siobhan,
Red and I have been talking, a lot, and we’ve come to an agreement, of sorts. You being hidden away all the time has strained our connection, and we’ve begun spending more and more time together as a result. This helped us reach the conclusion that Red and I are going to keep on together. I’m sorry.
Julien
I sniffled, a few teardrops already having fallen onto the parchment, and threw it at Sirius, speaking shakily.
“Some pisser of a year this has been.” I crossed my arms, looking down at the floor, as he picked up the note and read it. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel a wave of empathy wash over me. Instead, he grew angrier and angrier, standing and throwing the note into the fire.
“Unbelievable!” I shushed him, and he continued a little quieter.
“Ending it over a note? With all of this going on? Eugh.” He walked over to me, and wrapped me in a tight hug, during which I took the opportunity to sob into his shoulder. When he let go, I hastily wiped my nose, still sniffling and probably looking like a wreck. His face seemed to confirm this, and I looked down again.
“Hey, c’mon. You can’t let this get you down, yeah? Hold on, we need to go on a field trip.” He pulled me out of the chair, motioning to follow him as he changed into dog form. I opened the door, and he led me out of the teachers’ apartments and into the castle, which was eery in the moonlight. We took a few turns, dodging Filch, and ended up in front of the library. It was late enough that Madam Pince wasn’t there, and I eased open the door, letting the two of us in and waiting nervously while Sirius checked to make sure no one else was there. Once we were clear, he changed back, and led me into the shelves, grabbing books from several sections and building an ever-growing pile in my arms. As I was contemplating asking him what the hell we were going to do with all of these books, he finished, seemingly satisfied, and changed back, leaving me to lug the books back as quietly as possible. Thankfully, we made it back without incident, and I dropped the books in a pile on the ground, next to the chairs.
“Are you going to tell me what the hell we’re doing with all of these?” He held up a finger, shushing me, and sat on the ground, flipping through the various books with a sheet of parchment and a quill between his teeth. He spoke, slightly muffled from the quill.
“During my time at Hogwarts, I had the distinct pleasure of being best friends with a James Potter, who was obsessed with his hair, his style, you name it. He was also lousy at Charms. I also was best friends with Marlene McKinnon, who was so worried about trying to impress Dorcas that, when she heard how I helped James, cornered me in the Gryffindor common room until I agreed to help her. My point in getting all of these books is that I’m going to use my not-insignificant knowledge of magic to help you make Julien wish he'd never blew you off.” This definitely piqued my interest, and I sat across from him, books between us.
“Yeah? I’ve got a book that might help, but I don’t know how much.” I dug around in my bag, and pulled out the copy of Transitioning Witch. I held it out for a moment, before realizing he probably couldn’t see it, and sighed.
“Ah, you can’t see it. One of those ‘group-specific’ books. But this year is a lot of theory, so I don’t know if it would really help a ton anyways.” He shrugged, making a few notes, and frowned to himself.
“Hm. I need a look at your wardrobe.” I frowned.
“You mean, the various two school robes, the skirt, shirt, and tie?” This got me a scowl, and he resumed writing.
“Forgot. Well, when you get to your fifth year, we’ll revisit that point. Now, how squeamish are you about using magic to modify your body?” Considering the first two years of Transitioning Witch had already had me performing Dark Magic on myself, I wasn’t very squeamish, and at my response he nodded.
“Good. Alright, I’ve got two options for you. First is a bunch of spells, and by a bunch I mean about…” He checked his notes, “One-hundred and fifty-seven, or,” Another check, “Sixteen potions. Admittedly, the spells would work better, and they’re easier to do, but there’s a lot of them.” I peeked at the sheet, which was covered in a scrawl of various spells, some connected by arrows or numbers.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He shot me a look, and sighed.
“I heard the same thing from James. And he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams. Same goes for Marlene. My accolades are blessed by the stars above, Siobhan.” I fell back, laying down and looking up at the ceiling.
“Do the spells hurt?” I heard a few sheets of paper rustle before he replied.
“Not really. Some itching, maybe minor soreness. You do, essentially, get to design your new look. I’m just the charming wizard with the expertise to give it to you.” I snorted, and a ball of parchment smacked me in the face.
“Ugh, fine, fine.” I sat back up.
“I will say, they picked an auspicious day. We’ve got the whole weekend.” He cracked a grin.
“Damn right! Now, one last question, before we get started. I need a reference. What style are you thinking?” I still had long, pink hair, and not a lot going on otherwise, but I snatched a Muggle magazine Emily had sent me off of a chair, and flipped through it until I found a picture of a Muggle musician.
“Her. PJ Harvey.” I handed it to him, and he looked the picture over.
“Hm, okay. Still strange to me that Muggle pictures don’t move, but that’s beside the point. May I borrow your wand?” After a moment of thought, I handed it over, deciding to throw caution to the wind and have fun getting revenge on Red and Julien. I mean, it was out ifnowhere. The process was grueling, lasting through Saturday and Sunday morning, but around lunchtime Sirius fell into a chair, completely exhausted.
“Go look in the mirror, let me know how the piercings look.” I nodded, and made my way to the bathroom, definitely sore. Sirius may have downplayed the soreness part, since I could hardly move, but when I saw how I looked in the mirror it made it all worth it. I may or may not have peeked ahead in Transitioning Witch, but that was beside the point, as I now was the epitome of grunge punk. My hair was about shoulder length, dyed black and a little wavy, with the sides trimmed short. Sirius had done a little work on my face, not a lot, but enough to thin out my cheeks and move my cheekbones up a little, which gave me a bit of a pointed look to my face. I slightly regretted telling him to ‘go nuts’ with the piercings, as I now had several piercings in each ear, a nostril piercing, eyebrow piercing, and a septum piercing, and I practically had to fight him out of giving me a tongue piercing. He’d also used some of the stuff from Transitioning Witch to fill out my physique more, going from ‘flat rectangle’ to a slight strawberry shape, as well as adding a few inches to my height (something he did for James once). I tried on the school shirt & skirt, glad they still fit, and changed back into my regular clothes before walking back out into the room.
“Th-“ My sentence was cut short, since Sirius was fast asleep, and I shook my head before heading to bed, worn out as well.
The next morning was a big step for me: I was going to try to go to the Great Hall for breakfast. Sirius was coming with me, in dog form, and I knew that this attempt wasn’t just to see if I could handle it, but also to show Julien what he was missing. Once I was sure I was ready, I headed out, Sirius in tow, thankfully not running into any professors except for Lupin, who, when he saw my new look, rolled his eyes and shot a look at Sirius. He tagged along to the Great Hall, saying he was going for breakfast, but I had a sneaking suspicion he was going to make sure I was alright. As we neared the entrance to the Great Hall, I could feel a massive wave of emotions growing, and I took a moment to steady myself.
“We’ll both be right there with you. Are you sure you’ll be alright?” I took a deep breath, and nodded. I loosened my tie a little, brushed my hair out of my face, and walked in, holding my head high. It was almost like a physical force hit me as the wave of different emotions crashed into me. Instead of stopping, I scowled at the headache that was forming, and found Julia, who was sitting with one of her class buddies at the Gryffindor table. When she saw me, she raised an eyebrow.
“Interesting look.” I slid into the seat next to her.
“You don’t like it?” She shrugged.
“Never said that. Just different. S’pose this is in retaliation to the new item of the school?” I glanced over at the Hufflepuff table, where Red and Julien sat, and was pleased to see Julien barely concealing his surprise.
“Maybe. Plus, I wanted to try going out in public again.” She nodded.
“How’s that going?” I took a sip of tea, headache too strong for me to eat anything.
“Better than I thought it would, honestly. I just have a headache.” Cho dropped into the seat next to me, and put an arm around me.
“Morning, Siobhan. How’re you feeling?” I realized then, that along with the headache, the sheer number of people around me meant I couldn’t determine quite who was feeling what emotion, but I smiled at Cho.
“Killer headache, but I’m managing. You?” She shrugged, and grabbed a piece of toast.
“Not terrible. Dig the new look, by the way. Sort of a ‘good girl turned bad’ thing. Am I right in assuming it’s a bit of a revenge thing?” I snorted.
“A little. Surprised you two are taking my side.” Cho looked affronted, and Julia scoffed.
“Everyone is taking your side. We all figured there was a bit of a love triangle going on, but they cut you out of it through a note? Without even talking to you about it?” She was clearly incensed, and I patted her arm.
“It’s alright. I’ve already had a good cry about it.” Cho squeezed me a little, and leaned in conspiratorially.
“So, you’re back in the game, right?” I blushed, and took another drink of tea, which she took as confirmation.
“Mind if I take a swing? Next Hogsmeade visit, Three Broomsticks. My treat.” I choked on my tea, and after a few coughs, I nodded.
“S-Sure. Sounds good.” Julia rolled her eyes.
“You’re such a lady-killer, Cho.” She waved her off airily, and I took a moment to give Sirius some buttered toast, since he was prodding me with his nose incessantly.
“So, it’s set. Meet me in the courtyard?” I nodded, and she stood.
“I’m off to Potions. Have a good day!” As I turned to say goodbye, she leaned in to kiss my cheek, which turned into her kissing me on the lips, causing both of us to flush.
“Excited for Hogsmeade, eh?” She winked, and left me a spluttering mess, Julia shaking her head.
“I suppose if you were picking a rebound, she’s a good choice.” I rolled my eyes.
“Please don’t call it that. Firstly, she initiated, and-“ I was interrupted by Professor Flitwick, who let out a squeak of delight as he saw me out and about.
“Miss Ollivander! I’m glad to see you here.” I smiled.
“I figured I’d test the waters, a little. Other than a migraine I think I’m alright.” He nodded, hands clasped together behind his back.
“You’re making great progress. One day at a time, eh? And that essay on Banishing Charms? Truly inspired!” I blushed a little, and thanked him.
“If you’re feeling up to it, could you stop by one of the first-year Charms classes to help me show them the Mending Charm? Not today, of course, but when you’re able?” I nodded.
“Of course! I’d be more than happy to. Depending on how I feel after breakfast today, I think I’ll be able to join you.” He clapped, and after thanking me, left for the teachers’ table, Julia raising an eyebrow.
“Making waves, as always.” I shot her a joking glare, and, once I’d finished my tea (and Sirius had finished eating everything he could get me to give him), I headed back to my rooms, where a few letters waited. They were mostly magazines (I’d decided to start a subscription to Quidditch Weekly, if only for Sirius, and I had a few such as Witch Weekly and Spella Weekly), the Prophet, and a letter from my parents, as per usual. After I was done with Witch Weekly (the Which Creature Are You? Quiz told me I was a Fwooper, which was rubbish), I tossed it to Sirius, getting to work on another book from the library.
Chapter 13: A Line In The Sand
Chapter Text
That weekend, I dressed up as best as I could, with Sirius’ help (he was going to go lurking around the grounds as a dog for reasons unknown) and headed out to meet up with Cho. We met up in the courtyard, her wearing a cute wool sweater that actually went quite well with my thick jacket. As it was mid-October, it wasn’t too cold, and the walk to Hogsmeade was actually quite nice. When we got to Hogsmeade, we stopped by Honeydukes first to pick up some candy (I opted for a pack of Sugar Quills, while Cho got a box of Chocolate Cauldrons), and once we paid, her shutting down any attempts for me to pay (“I said it was my treat!”) we entered the Three Broomsticks, finding it packed with students. My migraine started up, but I ignored it as best as I could, determined to enjoy the day. Finding a table proved to be a headache in of itself, but eventually we found one towards the back that was empty.
“How’re you liking Hogsmeade? It’s your first time, right?” I nodded. I hadn’t gone to Hogsmeade until now, as I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to handle it, but the breakfast a few days ago in the Great Hall had bolstered my confidence a bit.
“It’s nice. I was surprised how much candy Honeydukes had.” She giggled, nodding, and took a sip of her Butterbeer.
“I was too, the first time I went. But, it’s cozy here.” I nodded.
“I think I’d like to live somewhere like Hogsmeade. Quiet, y’know.” She smiled, and threw her head back, sighing loudly.
“I wish you could’ve been there when word got out about Red and Julien. The clubroom was quieter than a cemetery.” I smiled awkwardly, still a bit torn up by the whole thing. Seeing my face, she frowned.
“But don’t worry. Like Julia said, almost everyone is on your side. Obviously no one knows specifics, but frankly I don’t want to know. Your business is your business, eh?” I nodded, and took another swig of Butterbeer. As I was drinking, I nearly jumped out of my skin as Jolly appeared next to me, choking on my drink and coughing for a few seconds before I could answer.
“Y-yes?” She handed me a note, and with a bow, vanished again.
“What’s that?” I shrugged, and unfolded it.
New Stormer article. Not good.
Kettleburn
I scowled, and started packing my things.
“sh*t.” Cho frowned.
“Is everything alright?” I gave her the note, and once she’d read it, she got ready to leave as well.
“I’m sorry to ruin our date.” She waved me off, putting a few Galleons on the table.
“Don’t be. Being the boss means work never really ends.” I shot her a look, and she laughed, following me out of the Three Broomsticks and up towards the castle.
“You don’t have to end your Hogsmeade trip for me, y’know.” She shrugged, kicking at a pebble in the path, which skittered ahead of us.
“Not a problem. Besides, I’d rather be with you than alone in Zonko’s. The boys there always try to look down my shirt.” I flushed a little, and the rest of our walk was spent in silence, Sirius plowing out of a nearby bush next to the courtyard, yelping happily as Lupin chased him. At the sight of the two of us, and our expressions, they stopped, falling into step with us. I showed Lupin the note, and he quietly read it aloud so Sirius could hear.
“This can’t be good. If Kettleburn himself thinks so, especially.” The four of us climbed the stairs, heading towards the clubroom, and ran into Madam Hooch, her face drawn and pale. Seeing us, she covertly nodded to the clubroom entrance (on the fourth floor), and when I nodded, she joined the group. When we walked in, I was surprised to see that only a few people were there until I realized that most were probably at Hogsmeade. Dumbledore was already there, holding what I assumed to be the newest copy of The Stormer, his face drawn, lips pursed. I stopped mid-stride, Cho bumping into me, as a wave pure fury—no, wrath—washed over me, coming from Dumbledore. It was so strong I could barely think, Lupin correctly guessing what was happening and waving at Dumbledore frantically, who, when he saw me, fought down his anger.
“Ah, I am sorry, Miss Ollivander. I assumed you would still be in Hogsmeade.” I took a moment, leaning on Cho, and smiled weakly.
“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control, Headmaster.” He nodded, and I walked over to the desk, half-helped by Cho, as Lupin retrieved the paper and handed it to me. The headline alone was enough to make me sick to my stomach. ‘New Wave of "Magic Users" Steal Magic, Rot Minds, and More! Exclusive Interview With Minister of Magic on p. 5.’ I briefly scanned the article, before throwing it onto the desk. It was a load of hateful rhetoric, some claims that queer witches and wizards weren’t meant to be magic users, and instead came from a long practice of ‘stealing magic’, something commonly attributed to Muggle-Borns, as well. The whole ‘corruption of the new generation’ was standard fare, but the interview with Fudge was the most damning of all. He shared his fears that ‘the push for deviancy would warp the values of good people’ and that ‘perfectly normal children’ were being ‘corrupted into falsely believing that they are something that they are not, like a fashion trend.’ I followed a small bug as it walked across the desk, lost in thought, strategizing and weighing outcomes, figuring probability until a knock sounded at the door. This was strange, as members of the club always came in, instead of knocking, and I felt comforted that three teachers were there if something went wrong. I stood, still thinking, and drew my wand, warily stepping over to the door. After a glance back at the others (Sirius was poised to lunge at whoever came through the door), I opened it, revealing a few older Ravenclaws.
“How do you know about this.” Their leader, a wiry fifth year named Jameson Wilfrost, smiled grimly.
“We’re Ravenclaws. There’s nothing we don’t know. May we come in? We wish for parlay.” After a long moment, I stepped aside, but didn’t lower my wand. The three of them entered, glancing around the room. Wilfrost spoke again.
“I am unsure as to your leader, but if they are here, let it be known that we have assembled the situation room to deal with the latest article in The Stormer.” I raised a hand.
“I’m the leader. May we speak in private?” He nodded, and I led him over to the desk, Lupin getting the idea and moving everyone to the opposite side of the room so I could focus on Jameson’s emotions. I indicated the chair, and he sat.
“Now, you know that I can detect emotions. This includes truth and lie. So, regardless of if you lie, I’ll know. Are you laying a trap for the club?” He shook his head.
“No, we are not.” Truth.
“Is any of this going to put the members of my club in more danger than if we refused your offer?” He thought for a moment.
“To my knowledge, no. I have strictly vetted everyone involved, and we are all allies to your cause.” Another truth.
“Alright. You pass, but don’t blame me for being paranoid.” He smiled.
“You have every right to be.” I sighed, and returned to the group.
“So, give us your pitch. Why bring a house in to help a club?” He stood.
“As I have said, we’re all allies to your group. Friends with some of you. When word reached the older students of the second article, specifically that the Minister was involved, we knew that your club would need all the help it could get. Even now, some of my,” he glanced at the three teachers, slightly wary, “trusted sources have heard rumors of secret anti-club group meetings taking place among some of the members of other houses. Of course, when any notion of the sort was discovered within my house,” his face darkened slightly, “I quickly sat the offending parties down for a discussion. To that end, Ravenclaw is now considered a safe-haven for you all.” I raised an eyebrow.
“So, my own house is offering me and my club asylum?” He winced a little.
“To put it bluntly, yes. The Hufflepuff prefects offered, but they’re not the type to stamp out dissention as thoroughly as us. For obvious reasons, Gryffindor and Slytherin are no-go zones.” I scowled a little. Ironic that the two houses that hated each other the most of the four would join up in times like this.
“What, then, is the purpose of the situation room? Aside from gathering information, as usual.” He clasped his hands together behind his back.
“This issue is a very complex one. It doesn’t just affect students, or even the castle as a whole. This is affecting Britain itself. I’m sure you remember the batch of new broomsticks you had Whitley curse-break, Madam Hooch?” She nodded darkly.
“Only affected members of our group. Powerful magic, that.” Jameson continued.
“People outside of the castle are attempting to meddle within it, and with the Minister having clearly taken a side, it puts the faculty in a bit of a bind, as they cannot openly support your side without fearing backlash from the Ministry.” Dumbledore smiled tightly, another flare of anger washing over me.
“So, then, it falls to the students to protect themselves until they leave Hogwarts, or the situation is resolved. That is the purpose of the situation room. To protect, and attempt to detect any threats within the castle. Sadly, it’s only a matter of time until the opposing groups turn violent.” Dread filled me as I realized what the most logical step was from here.
“You aren’t suggesting what I think you are, are you?” He raised an eyebrow quizzically.
“You want the club to move. Not just the people, but everything.” He nodded, somber. “Of course, we respect whatever decision you make. Time is of the essence, however, especially for the Slytherin and Gryffindor members, as, if the intelligence we’ve gathered is true, they may not want to sleep in their dormitories for very much longer.” A weight settled onto my shoulders, and I walked back over to the desk, and sat. My primary job as the leader was to protect the club, but uprooting them from a place that had been it’s base for so long was a big change.
“Magna res in magnis periculis solet fieri.” I looked up at Dumbledore, who was looking at me with a kind smile.
“Great deeds are usually wrought at great risks. Herodotus?” He nodded.
“It is not my decision to make. Though, I put my utmost trust in your judgement.” He patted my shoulder, and I resumed staring at the ground, thinking.
“Get everyone here as soon as possible.”
Once the club had been assembled, a few looks directed at the older Ravenclaws, I stood.
“Hello, everyone. I assume you’ve all either read, or heard about the latest article in The Stormer?” Nods filled the room.
“Wilfrost and his boys have a… proposition for us.” I moved over to the desk, and sat down as he gave the same speech to the club he’d given to me, but I was lost in thought again, pondering my decision, agonizing over whether it was the right one. Sirius nudged my foot, and I looked up to see Wilfrost coming to the same conclusion I had, which caused the room to erupt into a flurry of mutters and whispered conversations, people glancing between the teachers, Wilfrost, and me. I spoke from my chair, loud enough that everyone could hear.
“You may not agree with my decision, but after a lot of thinking, I believe it would be best to take him up on the offer.” Half of the room started arguing with me, citing all sorts of reasons why we shouldn’t leave, while the other half seemed frozen in fear. My headache worsened, and I slapped my hand on the desk loudly, which shut everyone up.
“Listen to what he’s saying. Cursed brooms? Anti-Coat clubs so serious some of us may be attacked in our sleep? That’s not to mention the constant hexes and jinxes that I and some of the other members have had to care for, cuts we’ve had to bandage, and bones we’ve had to mend because they couldn’t go to the Hospital Wing. Do you really think that a room protected by a hodge-podge of half-baked charms and spells is safer than a dormitory built by one of the founders? We aren’t defined by this clubroom. Books can be moved, so can pictures, so can your favorite chair if you’re so damn worried. Your lives are more important than a room.” Once I finished, the room fell quiet, and I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound condescending, or angry at you. I just want to keep everyone safe.” A snort came from a Slytherin sixth-year, who stood up.
“Some good you’ve done with that. Like you said, people are being hexed in the halls, beat up, and it never stops no matter how many bones you fix. As soon as you got picked to lead you f*cked off to the teachers’ flats and only showed up when something was happening.” I stood, him drawing his wand, and I scowled.
“You want to stay? Fine. Be my guest. I’ll send flowers to your funeral when the Slytherin Antis cut your throat in your sleep.” Several people gasped, but I held firm, the color draining from his face.
“Now, I’m going to go check the Ravenclaw common room, to make sure definitively that it’s safe, and when I get back we’re going to start moving books, pictures, and the like. For those of you who are in Slytherin or Gryffindor, it’d be best to quietly get your belongings and bring them to Ravenclaw Tower. If you don’t want to, feel free to stay.” I strode over to the door, Jameson and the other two Ravenclaws falling into step as I exited in front of the door to the common room. He answered the riddle (as I was still fuming), and we entered to find that the common room had been fully converted (instead of partially, as it had been last year) to a true situation room, tables littered with magazines and marked-up newspapers, boards with various things connected by string, along with several Ravenclaws asleep at tables, in chairs, and one on the floor surrounded by books. Jameson led me to a side room they’d converted for the members of the club that couldn’t return to their common rooms to stay in.
“As you can see, I wasn’t lying.” I sat on one of the cots, and put my head into my hands.
“I know you weren’t. I’m not the one that needs to be convinced.” He smiled empathetically.
“Shall we? It shouldn’t take long to get everything moved.” The process of moving wasn’t long at all, and when I returned to the clubroom the first time I discovered that my speeches had swayed everyone. All in all, the moving process took about an hour, with Cho standing next to the door so it always opened to the Ravenclaw dormitory. Teams of Slytherins and Gryffindors were set up to retrieve belongings, and they managed to slip in and out of their respective dormitories with little issue, which I was thankful for. Since the faculty’s hands were tied, they couldn’t directly help protect us, but Dumbledore assured me he’d give me advance warning whenever any Ministry activity reached his ears. Once everyone was set up in the side room, I walked with Lupin to the teachers’ lodgings to collect my things as well, since I was also moving back into the Ravenclaw dormitory. That trip was slightly more eventful, Peeves deciding to trip me walking up a staircase, but I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding once the common room door shut behind me. I didn’t take much time to breathe, instead heading over to where Jameson was shaking a girl awake at a table cluttered with newspapers.
“Wha…? Oh, hey boss.” He smiled tightly.
“Got any new numbers for me?” She yawned ferociously, and sifted through a stack of parchment.
“Ten newspapers commented on the article in a favorable light. Two undecided.” He nodded.
“Keep me updated. I suspect that as public opinion sways, so will the last two newspapers.” She nodded groggily, and once she saw we were done talking, dozed off again. Jameson then led me over to a wall, where a large map of the castle was pinned up.
“Professor Lupin showed me that map of his—quite handy, you know—and with a few tweaks we managed to get a bigger version up and running.” He drew his wand, and tapped on a name, which pulled up a small box, showing a few sentences.
“With this, depending on the information we gather, we can flag someone as neutral, an ally, or an Anti.” He showed me each designation, which turned the name a different color, before frowning.
“What…” I followed his gaze, and saw that a large group of students, none of whom were Ravenclaws, were heading up the stairs to the Tower.
“Uh oh.” I drew my wand, and he alerted a few Ravenclaws I assumed to be impromptu guards (from what I knew of them they were all wickedly good duellers), and we lined up on the opposite side of the door just as the group reached it. Instead of a knock, we heard a voice sound out from the other side of the door.
“Er, hello? We’d like to come in, but it’s alright if you won’t have us.” I stepped forward, brows furrowed.
“Why?” The voice, slightly muffled by the door, responded.
“Well, when we all heard about what was happening—with the Anti group and all that—a few of us Gryffindors linked up with some Hufflepuffs and baked you all some sweets. Figured it’d cheer you up. If you like, we can leave them at the door.” I shot a look at Jameson, who shrugged, and after a moment I leaned forward, wand still out, and opened the door. I was greeted by a large group of red-haired people, Weasleys, I figured, as well as a smattering of other Gryffindors and some Hufflepuffs. At the front of the group was Hermione Granger, and to my surprise, Harry Potter, all of them toting various baskets and trays of cookies, brownies, and other pastries.
“Wait, you’re-“
“Chamber of secrets, right?” He nodded.
“Well, come on in, then. Don’t make me regret trusting you, okay?” He nodded again, and the group filtered in, gaping at how the common room looked.
“Desperate times, eh?” As the chatter from the group grew, the refugees (for lack of a better word) emerged from the side room, curious as to the commotion. Once they saw it was safe, a few of them put away their wands and helped clear a table for the trays. I was a bit too worried to eat much, but I tried a brownie Harry had made, which I quite liked. After the initial mob of the sweets was over, people settled into what available chairs and couches they could find, and I found myself crammed between Hermione and Ron, across from Harry.
“Bit grim, all this is.” I nodded dourly, taking a bite out of my brownie.
“Appreciate the sweets. Puts you lot in danger, doing that.” Ron waved me off.
“Don’t think anything of it. Hogwarts is a family.” I smiled, somewhat buoyed, and Harry grinned.
“So, you go from helping me kill a basilisk to leader of the underground resistance?” I rolled my eyes.
“As if slipping on the floor and fainting at the sight of blood counts as helping. How’ve you lot been?” They filled me in on their various misadventures up to that point, Ron retelling such a dramatic version of Harry’s journey to Diagon Alley that I nearly fell out of my seat from laughter. He was just getting to the best part, “And then, he drove the Knight Bus straight into the side of the dragon,” When the young girl I’d unsuccessfully tried to drag out of the Chamber timidly inched over. Ron smiled up at her.
“’Ello, Ginny. Come over to finally thank your savior?” I rolled my eyes.
“As if dragging her halfway out of the chamber counts. Y’know, I seem to have a habit of only being half-good at adventures. Harry’s got it all down, but I’m still learning.” She reddened, and stammered out a sentence thanking me.
“No problem at all. I’m sure Harry would’ve done the same if I’d’ve been the one fighting some big piss-off snake.” She smiled thinly, not making eye contact, and hurried off back to a group of second-years playing Exploding Snap. Ron shot Harry and Hermione a knowing look, and whispered conspiratorially to me.
“Had a bit of a ‘gay awakening’ when you came round the Great Hall for breakfast. Been in pieces ever since.” My eyebrows shot off into the stratosphere, and I gave him a look of incredulity.
“You mean…” He nodded quizzically.
“Duh. Y’know, your club doesn’t have the only queer people at Hogwarts.” I was floored, since I hadn’t considered this at all, and he laughed at my face, Harry cracking a grin.
“Seriously? When was anyone going to tell me this?” Hermione shrugged.
“Nothing personal, really. Some of us just aren’t a fan of big groups.” I was reeling at the two-hit combo of revelations, and barely gasped out a follow-up question.
“So—who—” Ron shrugged.
“Pretty much all of us that showed up tonight. Fred and George are both pan, Percy is aromantic, Cedric is bi, as are myself and Harry, as well as Hannah Abott—she’s the blonde over by Cedric—and Neville. We’re pretty sure Ginny’s lesbian, since she acts like she’s seen the face of God whenever you pop up, and Hermione is asexual. Not sure ‘bout the rest of the Hufflepuffs, ‘cept Ernie. He’s gay.” I was still surprised, but a thought occurred to me that sobered me a little.
“Are you sure it’s alright to out everyone? Even just to me?” He frowned at me.
“The only reason any of us are here is because we’re technically a part of your group. We all had a big chat while we were making the treats for you and decided that if there was ever a time to be open about ourselves, it was now.” I nodded, reassured slightly, and Hermione raised her eyebrows as she caught sight of Julia.
“Ah, my people call to me. See you ‘round.” She left, Ron and I much more comfortable in the extra space.
“So… what do I do? About Ginny? That’s the first time we’ve ever spoken.” Harry shrugged.
“Up to you, really. ‘Course, if you fancy Cho it’s a bit of a done deal.” I rolled my eyes.
“Cho’s great, but I’ve got the feeling she took me on that date to rub it in Julien and Red’s faces.” He snorted, and I took the chance to finish the brownie, my appetite coming back as I relaxed. Harry and Ron started talking about Quidditch, and I took the opportunity to get more sweets, running into Julia at the table, who was practically quivering with excitement.
“Alright, Julia?” She nodded happily.
“I’ve just talked with this girl—Hermione Granger, and she’s like me!” I cracked a grin, and grabbed a few more brownies.
“Don’t have too much fun, eh? Can’t go losing your ‘bored by life’ persona.” She smacked my arm, and I laughed, heading back over to Ron and Harry. I squeaked indignantly as Ron stole one of my brownies, and tuned back into their conversation, which had thankfully moved to something I was interested in.
“D’you think Cedric is going to stick it out, or not?” Ron shrugged, speaking around a mouthful of brownie.
“I’d bet a stack of Galleons—if I had one—that he dumps him before the year’s up.” I frowned.
“Who’s this?” Harry nodded over to where Cedric sat, near Percy.
“’im and Percy’ve been a thing for a few weeks. Makes no sense to me, since they’re polar opposites.” I snorted, and he continued.
“Still, wouldn’t mind if they did fall apart. Got my eye on ‘im.” Ron froze, watching Harry carefully, who, when he saw Ron’s face, rolled his eyes.
“Cedric, you twat.” I sensed that something was going on I didn’t know about, and spoke up as the tension faded.
“What’s wrong with Harry fancying Percy?” Ron shot me a look.
“Y’see, when we told each other we were bi—well, I told Harry first, since it was the match after he ate the Snitch and I was so excited we’d won—we made a rule that he can’t date anyone in my family. Sort of a ‘best-friend code’.” I nodded, and Harry wrinkled his nose at Percy.
“Not sure I’d want to date Percy anyway. Bit of a neek.” I laughed, as did Ron, and I realized that the sweets delivery had begun to turn into a bit of an impromptu party, overworked Ravenclaws glad at a chance to take a break. A bottle of Pumpkin Juice made it’s way to us, and I gladly took it, Ron shooting me a look of disgust.
“How can you stand that stuff? Too sweet for my taste.” I stuck my tongue out at him, and took a swig before passing it to Harry.
“Just ‘cause you’ve got no sense of taste doesn’t mean you can make fun of those who do.” I grinned at Harry, but my attention was taken by an origami bird that fluttered onto my shoulder.
“What’s this?” I carefully cupped it into my hand, and once it was sitting in my palm it ruffled it’s feathers, unfolding into a note.
Would you like to come sit with me? If that’s alright, I mean.
Ginny
I looked up to see where she was, now sitting next to Julia and Hermione, staring straight at the floor. Ron read the note over my shoulder, and quietly told Harry as I slipped it into my pocket.
“Are you gonna?” I shrugged, and nodded, which got a grin from Harry.
“Here. Take the Pumpkin Juice with you.” I grabbed the bottle, and headed over, Julia and Hermione discussing something or other pertaining to Herbology, and plunked down onto the floor across from Ginny.
“Heya. Want some Pumpkin Juice?” After a second, she nodded quickly, and took it from me. Hermione and Julia picked up on the tension, and quietly scooted away, giving us a bit of privacy.
“Didn’t think that this’d turn into a party, but I don’t mind it too much.” She nodded again, and I noticed she was gripping the bottle tightly. I started to get worried that she was too flustered, and was about to make an excuse to leave for a minute before she spoke, still not making eye contact.
“I just wanted to say that you’re really pretty, and that if it was okay with you that maybe we could hang out sometime unless you’re dating Cho which is totally fine, I just wanted to-“ I interrupted her by gently taking the bottle from her, and taking a drink.
“That sounds like fun. Don’t worry, I’m not dating Cho or anything. Pretty sure she did that as a dig at Julien.” At this, she looked up, and I was surprised to see how hopeful her face was (my emotion radar was fried due to the crowd of people in the common room).
“R-Really? I mean, yeah, cool.” I cracked a grin, and took another drink before handing it back.
“What did you have in mind for hanging out?” She blushed again, and replied quietly.
“I, uh, didn’t think I’d get this far…” My face reddened as well, and I glanced down at my shoes for a second.
“Er, we could go for a walk round the lake, maybe? Before it gets too cold.” She nodded quickly, and I searched for another topic of discussion, drawing a blank. Thankfully, Ron and Harry chose to intervene, in the form of plonking several kegs of Butterbeer down next to us.
“Alright, Siobhan, rumor has it you’ve never played Skullies.” I frowned up at Harry, noting the mischievous look on Ron’s face, and shook my head.
“Is that a Gryffindor thing?” I must’ve said the wrong (or right?) thing, since Ron turned to address the party.
“Everyone! Siobhan just started a game of Skullies. We need a challenger!” Still having no idea what this game was, I looked around, confused, as Hermione piped up.
“I’ll do it. Julia’s my second.” My head whipped around as several of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs oohed.
“Who’s your second, Siobhan?” I gulped, wondering if this was similar to a wizard’s duel, and saw Hannah Abott trying to tell me something with her eyes.
“Er, Hannah?” She smiled, and walked over, helping me to my feet as one of the Weasley twins dragged a table and some chairs over. Once the four of us were seated (Hannah and I on one side, Hermione and Julia on the other) Ron held his hands out like a circus ringmaster.
“The game of Skullies is a time-honored tradition at Hogwarts. Some say that Dumbledore himself invented it. The game begins when you ask someone if they’ve played Skullies before, and if they respond with anything other than ‘Sod off, Albus!’ they enter a drinking contest between themselves and a challenger. Their seconds will be competing against each other, and the first team to lose both players loses. Remember!” A twinkle shone in his eye, “This is a game of endurance, not speed. Begin!” Not knowing what else to do, I filled a tankard, and matched Hermione’s pace, sipping at a decent rate. As I drank, I figured that, since she was a bit taller than me, that I’d have a bit more trouble holding my Butterbeer, though the opposite was true for Hannah and Julia. I shot a look at Hannah, who was around halfway through her first tankard, and decided on a course of action. I would drink two tankards quickly, then slow down on the third one, which would hopefully mitigate the Butterbeer enough to outlast Hermione. I threw my head back, and downed the first tankard, eliciting a few gasps from the people watching, and refilled my tankard, downing the second one. Hermione was watching, confused, as I filled it again and started drinking, slower this time. My gamble worked, as she picked up her pace subconsciously, but she didn’t slow down on the third tankard, meaning she outpaced me slowly as we continued to drink. After about six tankards, I started to feel the affects of the Butterbeer (Butterbeer has a slight alcoholic content), though I could tell Hermione was feeling it more. She was not as focused, eyes drifting off occasionally, and I kept going as Julia was disqualified, having collapsed into a fit of giggles after knocking her tankard over. It was just down to Hermione and I now, and I tried as hard as I could, but eventually she outdrank me, my head groggily falling down onto the table. Hannah leaned me up, and kept drinking, but Hermione had overcome her momentary distraction and powered through, Hannah losing shortly after to cheers from the watching crowd. As I stood up from the table, filling up another tankard, my vision grew fuzzy.
A splash of ice-cold water woke me up, and I shrieked, sitting up. Julia was looking at me, nonplussed with an eyebrow raised.
“Alright there, party animal?” A wicked headache was forming in my head, and I scowled.
“What are you talking about? Why don’t I remember anything after Skullies?” She snorted, and helped me up off of my cot.
“You blacked out pretty hard. Towards the end of the night you had a pretty emotional conversation with that Weasley girl.” My face reddened, and I followed her out into the common room, where a few people were groggily waking up, some hungover, others still working on tracking data. We met up with Ron, who wasn’t nearly as out of it as me, and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Normally the number of people in the Great Hall would kill my appetite, but I was starved after the party, and ate a massive breakfast, Sirius padding up to me about halfway through. I slowly started to feel better, talking with Ron and Julia in hushed voices at the end of the Ravenclaw table. The situation was dire, enough so that I had to work through the hangover (I slightly regretted drinking so much the night before), but there was a large logistical issue that needed to be addressed. With everyone moving into Ravenclaw, and the revelation (at least to me) that there were even more people on our side, I had to coordinate a much bigger group of people. The buddy system was turning out to be a genius idea, and I discussed with Ron and Julia the possibility of having to move the other people into the common room if things worsened.
“Don’t like how much responsibility is being put on us, y’know? Kids, I mean.” I shrugged.
“You know the faculty’s hands are tied here. They can’t do much without the governors or the Ministry punishing them, ‘specially now that Fudge is openly against us. Way I see it, we need to help the rest of the students. Guide them, eh?” He nodded. Ron, I had come to find out over breakfast, had become the de facto leader of the other group (which, at this point in time, called themselves the ‘Hidden Club’ due to their inconspicuous manner of operation), since he’d been the one to start talks about helping us out. The tension in the Great Hall was strong, as both the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables were filled mostly with Antis, on either side of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, where the Allies (my club and the Hidden Club) sat. I didn’t like the way that the lines were being drawn, or even that I was having to consider strategy at all, but I at least could realize that the situation in the castle was quickly approaching a breaking point.
Chapter 14: War
Chapter Text
CW: implied SA
The incident occurred on a weekend, as I was taking a walk with Julia and Ron around the lake. It was all quiet on both sides, and had been for a few days, which unsettled all three of us. The Antis had even stopped verbally insulting our side in the halls, which I felt was indicative of something sinister being put into motion. Ron didn’t want to accept this, hoping instead that they were simply losing interest in the bullying game, as The Stormer had remained quiet after the interview with the Minister. We rounded a bend in the path, and I stopped, something raising the hairs on the back of my neck.
“Wait.” Ron saw my face, and started to draw his wand, but three Disarming spells ripped the wands from all three of us, knocking me back a step. I looked around wildly, and spied a group of eight or so Gryffindors and Slytherins stepping from the underbrush.
“Don’t you know it’s dangerous to walk this close to the Forbidden Forest? Who knows what could happen this far from the castle…” The older Slytherin who spoke (their leader, I presumed) flicked his wand, knocking Ron and Julia onto the ground.
“Especially since we very recently came upon some useful information. That is, the ringleader of your little group.” His eyes never left mine, and I began to pick up on their emotions as the group closed in, which did nothing to reassure me. The boy jerked his chin towards me, and two burly Gryffindors stepped forward, grabbing me by the arms and beginning to haul me off into the forest. I bucked against them, shouting over my shoulder at Ron and Julia to get help before a hand clamped down over my mouth.
My wand clattered onto the ground next to where I lay, but I didn’t move to grab it. My cheeks had been stained by tears several times over, and I was too weak to move at all. I hazily heard one of the boys say something, then spit in my face, feeling their emotions fade as they left me, deep in the forest. I tried to roll over, coughing blood up onto my face as waves of pain rolled over me. Deciding to start small, I walked my fingers along the ground, slowly moving my arm towards my wand. The sun had set, and the ground was cold, a chill settling into my bones. I let out a weak cry as I realized I couldn’t reach my wand, straining my body as much as I could, and felt my eyes well up again. I knew I was going to die out there, alone, cold, and bloody. I felt so frail, so weak and vulnerable, and I hated that I couldn’t do anything about it. My hand clawed at the dirt hopelessly, wand inches from my fingers, and I stopped, blood starting to pool around my body as I struggled. I knew if I wanted to stay alive (though, a dark voice in the back of my mind questioned the decision) I had to stay as still as possible, so as not to worsen the cuts and holes rent into my body. I coughed again, trying to expel as much of the blood pooling in my mouth as possible, which only served to spray it up into the air and directly back down onto my face. My right eye was swelled shut, so I heard something approaching before I saw it, a shudder racking my body as I feared they’d come back, but a white, shimmering animal stepped into my vision. I blinked, and as I slowly focused on it, I realized that it was a unicorn, ethereal and entirely out-of-place in my current situation. It leaned down, seeming to take great care not to scratch me with it’s horn, and sniffed at me, puffs of breath brushing some of my hair out of my face. Content I wasn’t a threat, it viewed me for a long moment, before swinging it’s head over to where my arm was stretched out, limp just inches from my wand. I coughed again, wheezing out one word with all of my strength.
“P-Please…” I wiggled my fingers at the wand, and the unicorn looked back at me, before leaning down and, using the tip of it’s horn, rolled my wand towards my hand. As I grasped it, the unicorn snuffed at me, and headed off, deeper into the forest. Knowing I didn’t have the strength to heal myself, I sent up a single blue spark, watching it fizzle and rise up into the sky, before I started to drift off again.
I was woken up by loud barking, right next to my ear, and wearily opened my eyes, seeing Sirius, in dog form, watching me. Once he saw that I was awake, he changed back, pulling off his cloak and draping it over me.
“Siobhan. Listen to me, alright? Stay awake. I need your wand to heal the worst of the damage.” I tried to uncurl my fingers, but they remained tight, grasping the handle of my wand.
“I… Can’t move it…” He nodded grimly, and peeled my fingers off of my wand, taking it and lifting the cloak to start closing the bigger wounds.
“It’s going to be alright, Siobhan. I’m here.” I fought as hard as I could to stay awake, but as my skin began to writhe and move, closing over the various wounds, I began to drift again, managing to get one sentence out before I was overcome.
“T-Tell my mums… I love them…”
When I came to, Sirius was carrying me in his arms, puffing as he ran through the forest. My vision was clearer, but I still could barely move, and I coughed, thankfully blood-free. He looked down at me, seeing that I was awake, and kept running, emerging from the forest near the Whomping Willow. For some reason, he froze, and I let my head roll to the side, catching sight of a group of people ducking into the passage, though I wasn’t sure who. He looked down at me, then up at them, before swearing and setting me down, leaning me up against a tree.
“I closed the majority of your wounds, alright? Send another jet of sparks up. I need to stop Peter. I’m sorry I can’t get you the rest of the way, but my cloak will help keep you warm. I need to save them.” I leaned my head back against the tree, watching him with my good eye.
“Go. I’ll make it.” He nodded once, before turning and running, jumping and changing mid-air, vanishing under the tree. I prepared to cast the sparks, but stopped as I saw the unmistakeably oily form of Snape ducking into the passage after Sirius. I looked longingly at the entrance to the castle, before swearing and rolling over onto my stomach.
“Damn it all to hell.” I crawled, legs useless, and dragged myself towards the tree. I hoped that I’d be able to get past the tree, since I was so low to the ground, and as I got within range, I felt the tips of branches whipping my back, head, and shoulders, but nothing more. Thanking my lucky stars, I persevered, reaching the tunnel and pulling myself in. I fell down to the ground, and thought about stopping to catch my breath, but a shout echoing down the passage drove that idea from my mind. I used the wall to pull myself half-up, and forced my legs to work, staggering down the tunnel. I fell several times, each time wanting more and more to stop and just lay down and die, but I began to see the light of the Shack at the end of the tunnel. I crawled the last few feet on my hands and knees, too weak to stand, and emerged out into the room to see a small, balding man facing away from me, aiming a wand at whoever else was in the room. Assuming he was the bad guy, I hazily aimed my wand at him, and cast a single spell as my other arm gave out.
“Spiritus Prohibere.” I fully collapsed, but a flurry of motion and noise sounded out, and after a few moments of hoping I’d helped, Sirius, in human form, was standing over me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?! You should’ve gone to the castle. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, let alone conscious.” I gulped, mouth dry as a few sets of hands hoisted me up.
“Saw… Snape… Wanted… To help…” Whoever was holding me carried me back into the tunnel, Sirius leading the way, still scolding me.
“You’ve got to be the dumbest Ravenclaw I know. That spell you cast could’ve killed you.” Whoever was carrying me spoke up, and I realized that it was Lupin.
“As if Peter wasn’t going to kill us, had she not intervened?” Sirius shot a look of pure venom at him, and leaned out from the tree, hitting the stump that paralyzed it and waving us out. He changed back into dog-mode, and we made our way towards the castle until Lupin stopped suddenly.
“Oh, sh*t.” Sirius turned, then looked off to wherever Lupin was staring, before snapping back to him. I felt a shudder, and Lupin dropped me, landing hard on the ground. The way I fell meant that I wasn’t able to see him, but Sirius was in a low stance, growling at whatever was happening behind me. I was still too weak to move, but after a few moments, a howl sounded out from behind me, and I realized what had happened in horror. It must’ve been a full moon, which meant that Lupin was changing into a werewolf mere inches behind me. I desperately tried to move, but my body had had enough, a twitch of my fingers all I could muster as another howl sounded, this one a bit far-off. I felt the ground shake, thundering footsteps receding as Sirius tore off in the same direction. It was quiet for a moment, before a familiar shock of red hair thumped onto the ground next to me. I looked up at Ron, who was pale, and noticed that one of his legs was twisted at a horrible angle. He looked back at me, and spoke quietly.
“I don’t… I don’t know if I can walk. Harry and ‘Mione went after them.” I wheezed, and twitched my fingers at him.
“Obviously… I can’t… Either.” He snorted, and grabbed a tree branch, looking it up and down for a moment.
“Think this’ll do. Can you at least stay conscious?” I, with great effort, raised my hand, and flipped him off, which got another laugh.
“C’mon, then. Hospital Wing isn’t terribly far.” With a groan of pain, he stood, leaning heavily on the branch, and grabbed me by the shoulder, heaving me up and slinging my arm over his shoulder.
“Dunno how your legs are, but…” I kicked weakly, feet trying and failing to hold any weight as we made our way to the castle, agonizingly slow. Every step he took set off new waves of pain, and I aimed my wand at myself, carefully swishing it.
“Wingardium leviosa.” I became weightless, and he let out a sigh of relief.
“Smart one, that. Now I’ve got a balloon.” I was too focused on holding myself in the air to respond, and I knew I couldn’t do it for very long, but we made it up into the entrance as I ended the spell, Ron losing his grip on me. I landed on the floor, again, and weakly cursed.
“Sorry.” He leaned over again, and tried to pick me up, but we were both past our limits. He gave up after a few attempts, and sat down heavily next to me.
“Well, at least we’re inside, eh?” I rolled my eyes, and coughed again, noting, to my horror, that blood was once again pooling in my mouth, meaning that the hastily mended cuts were beginning to open again. Ron, a little delirious from blood loss, snorted.
“Filch’ll have your head for that. Bleeding on the floors he just mopped.” I let out a weak chuckle, and heard Ron fall onto his back, probably unconscious. I wheezed another breath, knowing it was my turn to get us a few more feet, and pointed my wand at Ron.
“Accio.” He shot towards me, then slid past me, and I ended the spell quickly, noting that he’d moved a few feet further.
“Depulso.” He slid even further away from me, and I decided to test a hypothesis, aiming at the pillar next to where he’d slid.
“Accio.” My guess was right, and since I didn’t have enough strength to move the entire castle towards me, my body slid towards the pillar, not ending the spell quickly enough and bouncing off of the pillar painfully. I continued this process until we were at the edge of a staircase (I hadn’t been paying much attention to where we were going), and sighed, knowing this was probably as far as I could get us.
“Your... Turn… Ronny-boy.” He stirred slightly, and looked around, getting a sense of our location. He aimed his wand, flat on his back, and shot a shower of sparks straight up the spiral staircase above us, where, once it reached the top, it turned into an arrow pointing down.
“Some luck you’ve got, Siobhan.” I frowned a little.
“What…?” He snorted, arm falling back down to his side.
“We’re at the base of Ravenclaw Tower.” A few moments later, I began to hear several sets of footsteps descending the stairs, Jameson coming into view, wand out, leading a group of duellers. He stopped in shock, and let out a small gasp as he saw the two of us, before stowing his wand.
“C’mon, we need to get them to the Hospital Wing. Now!” I was picked up, once again, and carried through the castle, head angled into the chest of whoever was carrying me, so I couldn’t see where we were at. Jameson spoke from somewhere nearby, and I heard Madam Pomfrey’s voice directing the people carrying Ron and I. I was set down gently in a bed, and the last thing I remember is Madam Pomfrey leaning over me, worried.
The first thing that I noticed when I woke up was how bright it was. I opened my eyes (one of them was covered by something, probably a bandage), and saw that I was still in the Hospital wing. My whole body was sore, and I took a shaky breath, thankful I wasn’t choking on my own blood. I was still too weak to sit up, but my breath must’ve alerted someone, as Madam Pomfrey appeared by my side.
“Miss Ollivander? Can you hear me?” I grumbled out an affirmative, and she leaned over, helping roll me onto my back and prop me up a bit, so I could see the room. Ron was across from me, asleep, his leg raised up into the air and heavily bandaged.
“Ron… Okay?” She let out a derisive snort, busying herself assembling some potion or other next to me.
“Dear, Ron isn’t the one I’m worried about. He had an open fracture in his leg, which is almost fully healed. Drink this.” She held a small bottle up to my lips, and I drank, the liquid tasting almost sickly sweet.
“That’ll help with the pain. I’m afraid for the more serious injuries you’ll need to be sent to St. Mungo’s. Dumbledore,” a hint of tension seeped into her words, “forbade me from contacting either your parents or St. Mungo’s until he spoke with you. I’ll go retrieve him now.” The potion took affect while she was gone, and when she returned, Dumbledore looking the most grim I’d ever seen him, I was much more comfortable, but still weak. She gave us privacy, going over to tend to Ron, and Dumbledore sat next to me.
“Hello, Miss Ollivander. How are you feeling?” I tried to shrug, couldn’t, and settled for a sigh.
“Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion to help with the pain. I still can’t move too much.” He nodded, speaking delicately.
“I am not sure how much you… remember from yesterday…” My eyes began to water as the vivid memory of that day resurfaced, and I swallowed down more tears roughly.
“Everything.” He winced, and spoke softly.
“I… have been informed that… er, it has been made known that—” For the first time, he seemed at a loss for words. I pushed down the painful memories, and took a breath.
“I need to go to the common room.” His eyebrows rose, and he began to shake his head.
“Miss Ollivander, the damage you’ve suffered—” I cut him off.
“I am the leader. I need to go and make sure everyone is alright. If you don’t help me I’m sure I can crawl.” To my surprise, he let out a short, clipped laugh, and shook his head.
“I can see I can’t stop you, so let me at least ease the journey for you.” He waved his wand, and a wheelchair appeared next to him. I tried to move out of the bed, but couldn’t, and he reached out, helping me into the chair. As he began to push me, Madam Pomfrey stormed over.
“Now, just what are you—” Dumbledore held up a hand.
“I am personally going to take her to St. Mungo’s, after we retrieve her things from the common room. You have my word.” She shot him a withering glare, before withdrawing another potion from her robes and giving it to him.
“Give this to her in three hours if it takes you that long.” He thanked her, and we exited the Hospital Wing, making our way through the castle until he stopped at the base of the stairs. Withdrawing his wand, he levitated the wheelchair, guiding it up the stairs beside him until we were on the landing for the common room. He then knocked six times, the door swinging open after a moment, revealing several duellers, wands out.
“Password?” Dumbledore smiled.
“Abraxus.” They lowered their wands, and allowed him to push me into the common room, which fell deathly quiet. I was wheeled up to the main table, where Jameson, Hermione, Julia, and a few others sat, staring at me. I looked around slowly, seeing that everyone was waiting for me to speak.
“Give me a status report.” Jameson was incredulous, his mouth hanging open, while Julia’s eyes bored holes into the table in front of her. Hermione spoke.
“Several people were attacked yesterday, including you, Ron, and Julia. No one was killed, thank Merlin, but there are also rumors of a pair of werewolves in the Forbidden Forest.” I figured that, since she had been there when Lupin changed and was deliberately not admitting who the werewolf was, that what occurred in the Shrieking Shack was still mostly a secret.
“Is everyone alright?” She motioned over her shoulder to the side room.
“We converted it into a sort of triage. Ten students in total.” My face darkened.
“They’ve made the first move, then.” She nodded grimly. I turned to Dumbledore.
“Headmaster, I know you can’t be involved in this. If you need to leave…” He took my out, and bowed his head.
“If it is alright with you, I shall bring your parents here and explain the situation. Once you’ve finished your business here, they can take you to St. Mungo’s.” I nodded, and he left. I turned my attention back to the people at the table, knowing I needed to say something.
“I wish it hadn’t come to this. I’m not afraid to admit that I’ve never dealt with something like this before. I’m also not afraid to admit I have no idea what to do. But, I will say that I will do whatever it takes to keep you all safe. Anything that happens, anyone that gets hurt, that is the result of my failure and mine alone. It sounds dramatic, but we’re officially at war. If… If anyone had been killed…” I searched for the right words for a moment.
“That doesn’t matter. The point is, no one was, and I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything within my power to prevent this from happening again. None of us deserve this, but we have to survive it. They took the choice from us, and we’re going to make them pay.” I ended my speech, and sighed.
“Could someone move me to the table with the food?” Jameson practically jumped out of his seat as the room filled with whispered conversations, wheeling me over. I grabbed at a bottle of Pumpkin Juice, still too weak to lift it, and swore softly. He stepped in between me and the rest of the room, picking up the bottle and handing it to me. As he grabbed me a Pumpkin Pasty, he leaned over, whispering quietly.
“Your speech was good. We… We thought you were dead.” I thought back to the forest, when I’d given up for the briefest moment, before the unicorn had come.
“I thought I was too.” He wheeled me back to the table, and I carefully took a drink of Pumpkin Juice, focusing my entire being on not dropping the bottle in front of everyone. I let the others talk for a while, filling me in on plans and strategies they had in mind, until one of the guards tapped on my shoulder.
“Two people here for you. Say they’re your parents.” He wheeled me over to the door, and another guard opened it, revealing Emily and a slightly well-disguised Sirius. Her hands flew to her mouth as she saw me, and Sirius put his arm around her.
“Hey, Olive. We’re going to take you to St. Mungo’s, alright?” I nodded, and bid the others farewell, Sirius wheeling me out of the common room. Since he didn’t have a wand, Emily levitated me down the stairs, heading towards the Headmaster’s office. As we walked, I hissed at Sirius frantically.
“Are you insane? All it takes is one person—” He cut me off, whispering just as quietly back at me.
“If Emily and Sophie turned up at the train station to come here, how well do you think the Ministry officials would take it? It’s not gotten any better out there.” I gulped, reminded once again that this extended far beyond the castle, and entered the office, finding Dumbledore waiting with a tall, willowy person in white robes. Their head was shaved smooth, and Dumbledore smiled at me.
“Hello, Siobhan. I presume you attended to your business?” I nodded, and he indicated the robed person.
“This is Sol Starbright. They’re one of the healers at St. Mungo’s. Sol is to oversee your care.” I nodded to them, and they smiled tightly, speaking in a lightly accented voice.
“Madam Pomfrey indicated several injuries that need my care, and I am not going to permit any other healers to be present for your treatments. This is to ensure your privacy.” I nodded, and Sirius wheeled me towards the fire, Sol taking over and pushing me the rest of the way. Dumbledore spoke up.
“I shall see that you receive reports of goings-on in the castle, though they may be encoded. Now, Sirius, Emily, I have some things I wish to discuss with you, if you would.” Sol grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from a bowl on the mantle, and, throwing it into the fire, spoke.
“St. Mungo’s Private Care Ward, Room Six.” The fire turned green, and they pushed me into it, the two of us getting sucked into the Floo Network.
The trip was brief, and we arrived in a clean, white room, with privacy curtains over large glass windows, as well as one covering the window in the door. Sol wheeled me over to the bed, and helped me into it, before Vanishing the wheelchair and sitting.
“I’m not sure how much you know about the goings-on in Britain, but it, frankly, isn’t good. You’re officially here with a severe case of Dragon Pox, and as such I’m the only one who can be around you.” They waved their wand, and hair formed on their head, curling into a neat buzz-cut.
“I’m also not Sol. Unless I’m certain no one can hear us, I’m Sullivan.” I nodded, and they sighed, Summoning a sheet of parchment and perusing it.
“There are only two major issues that need to be resolved, but they are beyond the ability of Madam Pomfrey to fix, which is why you’re here. Your right eye has been almost entirely destroyed, and the nerves in your legs have been burned out. What this means in terms of treatment is that I will remove the dead tissue from your eye, most likely requiring the implantation of a replacement eye. For your legs…” Their tone grew somber.
“Due to you being left to the elements for so long, the tissue in your left leg from the middle of your thigh down is beginning to necrotize, and your right leg from your shin down. The only treatment that doesn’t result in chronic, excruciating pain or sepsis as the cells in your body die would be to amputate the affected areas, and replace them with enchanted prosthetic limbs.” I looked down at my legs, which were laying on the bed, lifeless, and sighed.
“Alright. Do what you have to do.” Sol winced, and put a hand on my arm.
“I’m sorry, Siobhan. If there was anything else I could do…” I nodded, and after telling me they were going to retrieve the necessary materials for the first procedure (my legs), Sol left the room carefully.
Chapter 15: Summer
Chapter Text
“Alright, just a little bit further.” I wobbled precariously on the magically reinforced prosthetics, and took a few more steps before practically falling into Sol.
“Good. See how far you made it?” I nodded wearily. I’d been in the same room at St. Mungo’s for several weeks, relearning how to walk. The magical eye had taken much less time to adjust to, and it was top-of-the-line, meaning it could see through Invisibility cloaks, certain enchantments, and even walls, depending on how thin they were. Sol had said the design came from a magical eye developed for an old Auror, Alastor Moody, and I was more than happy to be able to see again. It was a slightly different color than my other eye, and the most difficult part of it was learning how to move it, as it moved independently from my other eye. After a few severe cases of vertigo, I’d managed to get the hang of it. The rest of the time was spent practicing standing, walking, sitting down and standing back up, as what remained of my legs needed to regain their strength. I’d made it further than ever, making six laps back and forth across the room, and Sol sat down on the edge of the bed as I fell into the chair beside it.
“I’ve received a letter from your cousin in Brighton.” We couldn’t be sure no one was listening in, so any news was conveyed from them to me in code (my cousin was Sirius, and ‘from Brighton’ meant he was safe).
“He says that once you get through the worst of the Pox symptoms, he’s got a condominium you can rest in, near the sea.” (Once you’re ready, he has a safe place for you to stay, with your parents) I nodded.
“That sounds nice. It’ll be good to get some ocean air, and I could use some sun.” (I miss my parents, and I think I’m ready to leave.) Sol nodded, and smoothed the front of their robes.
“I’ll write a letter with your response right away.” (I agree.) They quickly stood, looking over their shoulder at the door, before beckoning me over to the fire. Sol withdrew a small bag of Floo Powder, and whispered to me.
“Read this, then destroy it.” They handed me a slip of paper, which had the address of a house written on it in Dumbledore’s handwriting. I read it twice, and, since I couldn’t cast spells outside of Hogwarts, ate it, Sol sprinkling the Floo Powder into the fireplace and whispering the location into the fire.
“Number 12, Grimmauld Place.” The fire fizzled for a moment, then turned green, and I hugged Sol.
“Thank you. For everything.” They smiled, and urged me towards the fire.
“Never give up, Siobhan.” I stepped in, and was whisked away once more. This trip took a bit longer, since I assumed there was some protection spells on the house, but since I’d been told about it by Dumbledore, eventually I was spit out into a dimly lit lounge. I stood, brushing myself off, and heard a few hesitant footsteps outside of the room. My eye rotated up, looking through my head, and the wall, seeing Sirius, Lupin, Emily, and Sophie, assembled on the other side of the door, wands out. I heard Sirius speak through the door.
“I heard a rumor about you.” I spoke the counterphrase calmly.
“Sod off, Albus.” They lowered their wands, and Emily burst into the room, sweeping me up into a hug.
“I missed you so much, sweetie.” I hugged her back, and once she released me, hugged Sophie, as well. Sirius nearly tackled me into a hug after that, and I looked at Lupin warily after Sirius had let go. He grinned, and held out his hand. I giggled, and shook it, Sirius collapsing onto a sofa. I sat on the floor near the fire, Emily sitting next to me while Sophie pulled over a chair, Sirius sitting up to allow Lupin to sit, before laying back, resting his head in Lupin’s lap.
“Glad you’re back with us, Siobhan.” I nodded.
“Me too. So, where’s this ‘monstrously large’ action report from Hogwarts Sirius mentioned? From how he described it, it’ll take the rest of the summer to read it.” Sirius shot me a sideways grin, and Lupin rolled his eyes. Sophie reached over to a side table, and retrieved an admittedly thick roll of parchment.
“Here.” I took it, and unrolled it, reading through it as the others chatted quietly. I rested my head on my mum’s shoulder, the exhaustive report taking my full attention. In it, Jameson detailed the last few weeks of the term, which included several fights between the Antis and the Allies, though thankfully no serious injuries. Six Allies had been poisoned, but Hermione’s idea to have at least one person in each group carry several bezoars saved them; Cho had been cornered in the library by two Gryffindors, but managed to out-duel them and escape; a glass beaker had been shattered as Julia was holding it in Potions, but she’d thankfully only gotten a few scratches; and on the train, there was a clear split in cabin occupancy, the Allies taking the back of the train, while the Antis took the front, leaving a few cabins of no-man’s-land in between. Dumbledore added an addendum of his own, stating that they had intercepted sixteen cursed letters, three cursed packages, and thirty-four Howlers, which lead him to quietly institute a mail-scanning rule for the castle. Aside from that, Hermione provided details on planning for the next year, as well as a thorough report on what she projected would be the Antis’ next move. Once I finished reading, I rubbed my eyes, setting the parchment down.
“Quite a read.” Sirius snorted.
“You could call it that. So, since you’re basically in charge of the Hogwarts division of our movement, there are a few people you should meet.” My mums stood, as did Lupin, Sirius standing after a poke from Lupin. Emily helped me to my feet, and Sirius led the way downstairs. I used my eye to scan for wherever these people were, and spied several people sitting around a long table in the basem*nt. We entered, the quiet conversation coming to a halt at my entrance. A middle-aged woman stood, and walked over.
“The legend herself. Good to meet you, Siobhan.” I shook her hand.
“Good to meet you as well, er…” She flashed a bright smile.
“Marlene McKinnon.” I shot a look at Sirius, who was both avoiding my eyes and trying not to grin.
“I’ve heard so much about you from Sirius.” She raised an eyebrow, but chose not to pursue it further, instead leading me over to the table. I was introduced to Dorcas, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, and hugged fiercely by Molly Weasley.
“So good to see you’re alright, dear.” I smiled, and took a seat at the table. Kingsley spoke in a deep, calming baritone once I was settled.
“It must feel strange, but you are the leader of the resistance in Hogwarts, so we’re going to treat you as such. The people you see assembled here are some of the leaders of the resistance outside Hogwarts. We know that you’re a bit… isolated from the outside world in the castle, but this is the time for us to exchange information.” He went on to give me a brief rundown of what had been occurring in Britain; several riots, marches, and in a small town on the northern coast of Scotland, six people had been hung. I paled a little at that, but pushed it aside as it was my turn to share. I related to him what had occurred while I was at the castle, as well as showing the roll of parchment from when I’d been at St. Mungo’s. This seemed to satisfy him, and he smiled kindly.
“I see now that your reputation wasn’t an exaggeration.” I grinned, feeling a bit proud of my team.
“Do you have any considerations going into the next term?” I sighed. I’d given it some thought while at St. Mungo’s, and launched into my plan.
“The train was divided on the way back from the castle, and I expect it to stay that way. We’ll have to coordinate with all of the students before they arrive at King’s Cross, as well. Hermione suggested groups of no less than ten students, with at least four adult chaperones to act as ‘parents’. As for after the train departs, that falls to my group. If it’s possible, I’d like to change the amount of chaperones from four to six. I’m not sure if any of the Antis will try anything at King’s Cross, but I’d rather be prepared.” He nodded, and Dorcas spoke up from beside Marlene.
“A lot of kids are afraid to go to their dormitories. You moved the club into Ravenclaw’s common room, right?” I nodded.
“I’d already considered having to move the rest of the Allies, and I think the older Ravenclaws could cast another Undetectable Expansion Charm to make room. I’ll have to discuss it on the train.” She seemed satisfied, and Sirius set several glasses down on the table.
“Cider, anyone?” A few people accepted, myself included, and once he’d poured the drinks, he sat between Marlene and Lupin, withdrawing a long pipe from his robes and lighting it with what I presumed to be his wand. I sipped the cider, and sighed.
“I’ve done my best to keep everyone in the castle safe. It’s not going to get any easier, but, as I told them at Hogwarts, if anything serious happens,” my implication soured the room a bit, “it is my responsibility and my failure. No one else takes the blame. I don’t want anyone blaming themselves.” Kingsley took a long drink.
“Quite a burden to willingly bear, if I may say so.” I shrugged.
“I take it gladly. It’s proof of my promise to do everything within my power to protect them.” He looked at me, and I got a whiff of admiration from him. Nymphadora spoke up.
“Now that the serious business is taken care of, I have a bit of a personal question for you, if you don’t mind.” I frowned, a little nervous, and felt a mischievous wave trickle into my mind.
“Rumor has it that you’ve never played Skullies, Siobhan.” I cracked a grin, and replied.
“Sod off, Albus!” Sirius laughed, and the tension was broken at the table. We spent a few minutes talking happily, Marlene sharing Sirius’ pipe and blowing smoke rings in the shape of various animals, until a muffled thud sounded from upstairs. We all instantly froze, and I looked up through the ceiling, spying a younger woman picking up a vase from the floor.
“Someone’s here. They’re alone. Auburn-ish hair, about shoulder length.” I stood, and drew my wand, shaking my head at Emily, who tried to pull me back down.
“They won’t expect a teenager. It’ll give me an opening.” After a moment, she relented, and I crept out of the kitchen, making my way as stealthily as I could up the stairs. I peeked around the banister, and saw that she was still standing in the entryway, looking around a little warily. I stepped out, wand trained on her, and spoke.
“How do you know about this place?” She froze, and raised her hands.
“I’m looking for Sirius Black. Is he here? It’s very important.” I frowned suspiciously.
“Give me your wand.” After a brief pause, she reached into her pocket, slowly withdrawing her wand and tossing it to me. I caught it clumsily, not taking my eyes off of her, and jerked my head towards the stairs. I led her downstairs, wand still on her, and looked using my magic eye to see that everyone in the kitchen was standing, wands out and poised to attack. I backed into the room, and spoke.
“Says she’s looking for Sirius Black. Very important, apparently.” As she rounded the corner, I heard several gasps, and glanced around through the back of my head to see that several people had lowered their wands, Sirius’ pipe hanging loosely from Marlene’s mouth. Sirius himself was staring, mouth agape, and spoke tremulously as the woman entered the room fully.
“L-Lily?”
My brow furrowed as my brain made a connection I didn’t believe, and I kept my wand raised.
“What? You’re joking, right?” He stepped forward slowly, eyes searching her face.
“When James proposed, what was engraved on the Snitch the ring was in?” She replied cautiously, eyes darting from me to Sirius.
“From your arrogant toerag, to the love of his life.” Sirius gasped, and rushed forward, wrapping her into a hug. I lowered my wand, and sat back down, setting her wand down and taking a drink. Lupin, Emily, and Molly all rushed over, and I tried to figure out how this was even possible. Once their reunion was over, she sat, Sirius pouring a glass of cider. I spoke up, still a little suspicious.
“Sorry to interrupt the tearful reunion, but how is this possible?” She took a swig of cider.
“When… When You-Know-Who came after us on Halloween, he trapped James, Harry and I in Harry’s room. He disarmed the two of us, then… he made James watch as he Vanished me.” I frowned, growing more confused by the second.
“But… No one has ever Vanished a person before.” She nodded.
“Exactly. For me, all I remember is seeing him cast the spell, then waking up this morning in what remained of my house.” I steepled my hands, deep in thought, and muttered a phrase that was an answer to one of the Ravenclaw knocker’s riddles.
“Into nonbeing, which is to say, everything.” She took another drink.
“I knew that Grimmauld Place was an Order safehouse, so I came here, figuring that I’d find someone.” I glanced up at her.
“Order?” Kingsley interjected quietly.
“During He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s rise, the Order of the Phoenix was the main resistance group.” Lily turned to him.
“I’m not—how long has it been? Did we win? What happened to James and Harry?” I gulped, and took a long drink of cider as Lupin spoke carefully.
“What occurred in your house isn’t exactly known, but James is… James is dead. Harry survived, somehow, and defeated Voldemort. No one knows how. It’s been… About fourteen years since that night.” Her eyes welled up with tears, and she looked down at the table.
“Is… How… I…” Sirius hugged her again, and she sobbed into his shoulder for several minutes, during which I finished my cider and poured another, feeling a bit awkward as an intense wave of sadness rolled over me.
“Harry is alive, and well. He’s been living with your sister.” She snorted.
“Yeah, right. Well, when can I see him? Can we go get him?” Sophie spoke up this time.
“Lily, everyone outside of this room thinks you’re dead. If you show up to Petunia’s house asking about Harry, who knows what’ll happen.” Lily looked up quickly, and I almost fell out of my chair as a rush of anger struck me. She spoke loudly, filling the room.
“I don’t give a damn about what’ll happen, I want to see my son! Give me back my wand, I’ll Apparate and get him myself.” I snatched her wand back off of the table, and actually fell out of my chair as another wave of anger hit me.
“Professor—” Lupin realized what was happening, and explained to Lily as I curled up into a ball, besieged by wave after wave of anger. Finally, it started to die down, and I opened my eyes warily, seeing Molly Weasley watching me with concern. She helped me to my feet, and back into my chair.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know—but I still want to see him.” She’d lost some of the intensity, and I smiled nervously, not making eye contact with her.
“And we’ll do whatever we can to make that happen. But… A lot has happened, Lily.” Sirius interrupted Marlene, and spoke to me.
“Maybe you should head upstairs? It’d be better if you weren’t so close to us for this conversation.” I nodded, and stood, awkwardly handing Lily her wand back and heading back up to the lounge. I sat on the sofa, still a little rattled, and looked through the door as someone knocked.
“Come in, Mrs. Weasley.” She opened the door, carrying a bottle of Pumpkin Juice and two glasses.
“How did you know it was me?” I smiled thinly, pointing at my magic eye.
“Didn’t they tell you? My right eye had to be taken out, so they gave me a magic replacement. Said it was based on a design they did for some Auror.” She smiled gently, and sat across from me, pouring two glasses.
“Your mother said you liked Pumpkin Juice.” I accepted my glass gratefully, and took a sip.
“Thank you. Why aren’t you downstairs? Shouldn’t you be there for that conversation?” She shrugged.
“As if I could let you sit in this dreary room all by yourself. Although, I do admit that I have a bit of an ulterior motive.” I raised an eyebrow, and her fake-serious expression dissolved into a smile.
“Nothing serious, dear. I wanted to know how Ronnie has been doing. You’re in his year, as far as I know.” I nodded, and went on to explain what he’d been up to to the best of my ability, leaving out some of the racier things like jinxing cauldrons or doing Butterbeer kegstands. I also left out his romance life, since I didn’t know what the situation was with his parents, and once I was finished, she shot me a knowing look.
“Ah, I’m sure he’s been as much of an angel as you say. And, has he talked about any crushes? He’s getting to that age, and before I came over to Grimmauld Place he was talking non-stop about a Bulgarian seeker—Viktor Krum, I think?” This signalled to me that at least Ron was open with his mum, and I relaxed slightly, taking another sip of my Pumpkin Juice.
“Oh, lord, is he going on about Krum again? When they announced this year’s World Cup lineup he sent me a foot-long scroll about him.” She laughed, and shook her head.
“That boy… I’m glad he’s doing alright. I also appreciate your attitude towards your club, though it may come across as a little fatalistic.” I shrugged.
“I mean it. Augusta picked me for a reason, and I don’t plan on letting anyone down.” She nodded, and Nymphadora appeared in the doorway.
“Mrs. Weasley, they’re asking for you.” She nodded, and finished her glass, setting it down and standing.
“Would you mind keeping Siobhan company, Nymphadora?” She winced, and nodded.
“Not at all.” Mrs. Weasley left, and Nymphadora sat down in the empty seat.
“So. New leader, eh? I remember when Augusta got picked.” She filled Mrs. Weasley’s empty glass, and took a drink.
“You know Augusta?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I finished up at Hogwarts in ’90. Known her for a few years.” I nodded, satisfied, and she held up a hand.
“Also, call me Tonks. I hate my first name. One moment.” To my surprise, her body began to ripple, changing from jaw-length bright pink hair to a bright-green sidecut, as an Adam’s apple formed on her throat and she grew a few inches.
“There we are. I was a member of your group, y’know. Won the lottery, I suppose, being a genderfluid Metamorphmagus.” I nodded, still a little surprised by the sudden transformation, and he laughed.
“Not met a Metamorphmagus before? Bit of a shock, I suppose.” I took a long drink, and kneaded my forehead.
“Have you talked to Augusta recently? I couldn’t send many letters from St. Mungo’s.” He nodded.
“She’s leading a group in Glasgow, right now. Doing well.” I leaned back, happy she was doing alright, before another question struck me.
“And Jack…?” Tonks grinned.
“Head over heels. Marcy is with them as well, and she constantly writes me about how lovey-dovey they are.” I snorted, and finished my glass, refilling it as another knock sounded at the door.
“Sirius?” He entered.
“Not sure if I’m gonna get used to your magic eye, Siobhan. We’ve gotten through the big stuff, so I don’t think you’ll be overwhelmed if you come back down.” I stood, eager to get back downstairs, and Tonks followed, grabbing the bottle of Pumpkin Juice. The basem*nt had a thin miasma of sadness, as well as an emotion that I defined loosely as ‘problem-solving,’ and I could tell by several of their faces that people had cried. Lupin smiled as the three of us re-entered.
“Welcome back. We’ve caught Lily up to speed, and have something we’d like to discuss with everyone present.” I squeezed in between Tonks and Dorcas, still a little awkward around Lily, and Lupin continued.
“Tomorrow night, we’re going to have a meeting with all of the regional resistance leaders. Dumbledore has also said he’d be in attendance. Think of it as a ‘work-dinner,’ I suppose.” I nodded.
“Alright. But, why do I need to be there?” He raised an eyebrow, and Kingsley chimed in.
“You’re the regional leader for Hogwarts, Siobhan.” My eyes widened a little, and I let out a soft ‘oh,’ feeling very much out of my depth. Noticing my fear, he smiled.
“Don’t worry, Siobhan. If anything, you’re practically the leader of the whole thing. Your resistance within the castle inspired parents and former members to reconnect and discuss options.” This did nothing to calm my nerves, and I gulped, letting out a squeak instead of a response. Sirius blew a smoke ring at Kingsley jokingly.
“You’re not doing a good job at making her feel better, Shacklebolt. Siobhan, think of it like this: you’re a trendsetter, yeah? Doesn’t mean you’ve always gotta be at the front of the pack. Just means people respect your opinion as the OG.” This helped, and I replied cautiously.
“That… makes sense. Alright, then. Dinner party it is.”
The next day was a flurry of activity, which saw me helping prepare the house for the dinner. This included fighting off a boggart in one of the upstairs rooms with Tonks, cutting a portion of the wall out in order to remove a painting of Sirius’ mother, repairing the wall, and most dangerously, dealing with a nest of Acromantula that had infested the storage pantry in the basem*nt with Sirius. Once we finished, the two of us walked into the kitchen covered from head to toe in cobwebs and spider guts, Sirius retrieving a dusty bottle of firewhiskey from a cupboard and silently pouring both of us a shot. Sophie raised a complaint at my underage drinking, but the haunted looks we both shot her was enough to quiet her. Once the two of us recovered and got cleaned up, I helped Mrs. Weasley cook a massive meal, one big enough to challenge the feast at the beginning of the term. There was turkey, ham, four different kinds of potatoes, mince pies, seven different vegan-friendly options, treacle, pumpkin pie, cherry pie, and apple pie, as well as a host of other treats. As people began to arrive, I grabbed a seat early, knowing it was going to get crowded very quickly, Sirius and Remus setting up a second table in the basem*nt. In total, thirty people crowded into the kitchen, Dumbledore among the first to arrive, toting a bottle of wine. He asked after my health, as well as Sol’s, and found a seat next to Kingsley. I heard Marcy’s arrival before I saw her, as she squealed at the sight of me, immediately reserving seats for Jack and Augusta as well. We talked nonstop until they arrived, about the club, as well as gossip in the castle, and Jack plunked down into the seat on my other side, ruffling my hair. He said that Augusta was upstairs in the bathroom, conspiratorially whispering that she was a bit nervous to be among so many respected magic-users. The majority of the others I didn’t know (I waved to Madam Hooch, who sat at the other table with Dumbledore) and got up to shake hands with Kettleburn, who’d had to leave his wife behind to care for the hypogriffs. He showed me a few pictures, and sat with the other professors, talking quietly. Once everyone was settled, and had some food and drink in them, Sirius stood, clearing his throat.
“Hello, everyone. Thank you for coming tonight, albeit under less-than-optimal circ*mstances.” He then looked at me, and I shot him a warning scowl, which made the corner of his mouth perk up.
“Siobhan, could you join me for a moment?” My scowl turned into a glare, but I stood, walking over and standing next to him.
“Siobhan Ollivander was named the club’s leader after Augusta left, and in one year she managed to survive a Dementor’s Kiss, the loss of one eye and the majority of her legs, and still ensured no casualties at Hogwarts. She’s kept all of the students—some of whom are some of your children—alive and as safe as possible. She’s the spark that lit the flame of the resistance.” The room broke out into applause, and I turned beet red, staring down at my shoes until the clapping slowed, and Sirius continued.
“Now, I won’t embarrass her any more, but I just wanted her to know how much of a difference she’s made.” I quickly sat back down, still blushing, and Jack patted my back. From then on, the different regional leaders each stood up and gave a report on their area, including member numbers, marches, and to my dismay, fatality numbers. I was last to go, directly after a man from Dublin who’d tallied seventy deaths, and I spoke awkwardly.
“I—I’m sorry to hear how many people have had their lives taken for such a senseless belief. As Sirius said, we haven’t had any fatalities at Hogwarts, and I will make the same promise to you as I have to my classmates: I will do everything in my power to keep them safe, and if anything bad happens, I take full responsibility. Being the leader of a small club quickly turned into leading half of the school against the other half, and… what led to the loss of my eye, as well as parts of my legs, but they’ll have to do more than that to stop me from making absolutely sure my club is safe. It isn’t going to be easy, but I will do my best.” I sat down, the room quiet, and picked at a slice of pie, appetite gone. Dumbledore stood next, and spoke calmly.
“As some of you know, those in governmental or teaching positions are in a bit of a bind due to the pressure that the Minister has put onto us. While we cannot actively support the resistance, I’ve set up a mail-scanning system to stop cursed packages from making their way to the castle, and will be relaying any pertinent information to those it affects.” Once he finished, people began to talk quietly, discussing strategy, and I set down my fork, queasy. Marcy poked my side jokingly.
“You gonna eat that? Haven’t had food this good since Hogwarts.” I rolled my eyes, and slid the plate over to her.
Chapter 16: Anything Off The Trolley, Dears?
Chapter Text
CW: references to SA/threats in the same vein
King’s Cross was the quietest it had been in the four years I’d gone, large groups of people clumped together, watching other groups suspiciously. Hermione’s plan seemed to work, none of us getting more than a few dirty looks, until the majority of the Allies had loaded up onto the train, leaving myself, Hermione, Jameson, Ron, Julia, and a few duellers. I was saying goodbye to Sophie and my ‘dad’ Remus when Ron went deathly still next to me, looking over my shoulder. I rolled my magic eye backwards, and saw the Slytherin from the forest sauntering up, alone but still confident. My fear must’ve been obvious on my face, and I tried to compose myself as I turned around to face him.
“See you’ve recovered well. Think you’ll let the lads and I give those new legs a spin in the forest?” I was paralyzed, unable to even look at him, but Jameson stepped between the two of us, facing the boy.
“Wrong side of the station, mate.” Looking through Jameson with my eye, I saw the boy scowl.
“That so? Didn’t know there were separate parts of the platform. I was just talking to my acquaintance here.” Two duellers sandwiched me between them, and with a sneer the boy turned on his heel, calling out over his shoulder as he walked away.
“Enjoy the protection while you can, Michael!” Sophie sucked in a breath, and I started to shake, grateful I was mostly blocked from view as they hustled me onto the train, and into a compartment near the back. As soon as the door shut, Ron began pacing, fists clenched, while Julia seemed to find her shoelaces very interesting. I stared out of the window at the other side of the station, and flinched when Jameson tapped me lightly on the shoulder.
“Sorry.” I waved him off, and turned to face him.
“I’m sorry about what happened. I shouldn’t have even let him walk over.” I shook my head.
“If a fight broke out in the station, it’d be a disaster. I’ll survive.” His face mirrored the concern he was feeling, and I forced a smile. Hermione tried to change the subject, but an outburst from Ron interrupted her.
“If he ever—ever tries anything like that again, I’ll kill him.” Harry was just as incensed, and nodded along, but I stopped Ron.
“Do that and we’re just as bad as the people slaughtering innocent magic-users across Britain. We need to focus on defense. Besides, are you seriously willing to kill someone? You’d spend the rest of your life in Azkaban.” He scowled, and sat next to Harry.
“Just felt good to say, y’know?” I sighed, and leaned back. Hermione managed to change the subject, though it wasn’t any better than what we’d been talking about before.
“Siobhan, I’ve gotten word that a group of Antis was caught smuggling Dark Artifacts onto the train.” Harry gave an uncertain thumbs-up.
“That’s good, right? That they got caught?” I shook my head.
“Not really. I assume what you’re implying is that, most likely, there are more that weren’t caught?” Hermione nodded gravely. I rested my chin on my hands.
“Add that to the list, I suppose.” Jameson cracked his neck, and let out a sigh.
“Can’t wait for the trolley. I need about fifty Sugar Quills right now.” I snorted, but froze as a sickening thought struck me.
“Siobhan?” Not listening, I quickly stood, and barged out of the cabin, beckoning to several duellers who were in the next cabin to follow me. I hurried up the train, catching the trolley witch as she was stopping at the first Ally cabin.
“Anything off the—oh, my.” I stepped between her and the cabin, and withdrew a sack of galleons.
“I’ll take the whole thing. Keep the extra, and I’ll get the trolley to you at the station.” She started to protest, but the look on my face was enough to stop her in her tracks. After a moment, she took the bag, and headed back up the train, a few students watching me warily. I sighed, and addressed them.
“I need to check these. If nothing’s wrong, you all get free candy. Just trust me.” I set back off, instructing several duellers to stay by the cabin closest to no-man’s-land, and returned to the last cabin, finding the others waiting, confused. Jameson spoke up, reaching for a Sugar Quill.
“When I said that, I was joking, Siobhan—” I slapped his hand away, and drew my wand, maneuvering the trolley so it was inside the cabin. I shut the door, and spoke quietly.
“Where does the trolley witch stock the trolley?” Understanding broke across Hermione and Julia’s faces, and Julia spoke in a near whisper.
“The front of the train…” I nodded grimly.
“Which is currently occupied by…?” Harry spoke, realization dawning on the boys’ faces as well.
“Antis.” I nodded again. “Full marks.” I rapped my wand against the trolley, and spoke a Revealing spell.
“Specialis Revelio.” I knew that the spell would tell me if something was enchanted, but I didn’t know that my magic eye would highlight what was enchanted on the cart. Dread filled me as the spell showed me that every single piece of candy on the trolley had been spiked, from Pumpkin Pasties to Every Flavour Beans to Chocolate Frogs.
“Oh, my god.” Hermione stood.
“How bad?” I quickly wiped my hands on my robes.
“Nobody touch this. I’ll explain once it’s gone.” I wheeled the cart back out, and to the caboose, where I carefully threw every single box off of the back of the train, using a Levitating Charm so I wouldn’t have to touch any of it. Once the trolley was cleared off, I rolled it back inside, and left it by the back, returning to the cabin and sitting down. The others waited for me to speak, and I did after a few minutes, looking straight down in the floor.
“Whatever they got caught bringing onto the train was a distraction.” Ron leaned forward.
“C’mon, Siobhan. What was it?” I looked up at him, terrified.
“Every single candy was poisoned with basilisk venom.” His jaw dropped, and Hermione gasped. Jameson and Harry went pale, and Julia buried her head into her hands.
“This changes things quite a bit. They aren’t even trying to pretend they won’t kill us.” I flicked my eye back, scanning through the adjacent cabins to look for any signs of poisoning, but thankfully I seemed to have caught the trolley in time.
“Jameson, explain what happened to the duelers, and the older students. All the younger kids need to know is that they should be careful what they eat. I think it’d be good to teach the Revealing Charm I used to as many people as possible.” He nodded, still in shock, and left, me watching as he stepped into the next cabin and quietly explained the situation. Once the group of them left and began filtering down the train, I rolled my eye back around, focusing on Hermione, who was writing down another addition to her to-do list.
“I think it’d be wise to change from bezoars to Antidotes for Common and Uncommon Poisons. Siobhan?” I nodded.
“Might be a bit risky to nick the supplies from Snape, but I couldn’t care less. How did they even get their hands on basilisk venom?” Harry scowled.
“Imagine a Slytherin family, wildly rich, Dark Wizards. Money isn’t an object, and morality is a punchline. Ring any bells?” I sighed.
“Malfoy. Figures.” We lapsed into an uneasy silence, and after a while, Jameson returned, notifying me that everyone had been warned.
“Good. While we’re on the subject, I’m uncertain if we should eat at the feast, or the Great Hall in general. Julia, do you think the Hufflepuffs could get food directly from the kitchens? If the Antis poisoned the trolley, there’s no telling how far they’d be willing to go.” She stood, and left to go confer with the older Hufflepuffs. The rest of the train ride was spent quietly, Harry and Ron trying to lighten the mood with a game of Exploding Snap, while I leaned against the wall, using my magic eye to scan the train behind me as far as I could see. Thankfully, with the trolley plan foiled, the Antis seemed too afraid to attempt anything more brazen, and we arrived at the station in relative peace. I assigned a minimum of two duellers to each cabin, except for ours, since we could protect ourselves, and I led the Allies off of the train, magic eye peeled for any traps. I moved quickly, waiting until all of the other groups had safely gotten into a carriage before joining the others in the last carriage. I ran a hand through my hair, frazzled, and shook my head.
“I can’t believe they’d try that. I can’t believe it. I mean, the first years are only eleven!” Nobody responded, everyone just as on-edge as I was. We reconvened at the entrance to the castle, where we ran into yet another problem, in the shape of a few Slytherins standing in the doorway. I marched up to them, noting that Malfoy seemed to be in charge of the group, and scowled.
“What’s this, then?” He smirked down at me.
“Just waiting for the ‘fearless leader’ of your little club to arrive, Ollivander.” The five Slytherins with him laughed, and I smiled humorlessly.
“Must’ve felt pretty bad to spend all that money on basilisk venom, just for it all to get tossed out the back of the train.” That shut him up, and with a sour expression on his face, he swept into the castle, cronies in tow. I took a deep breath, scowl returning, and once more led the way into the castle. The tension as I stepped into the Great Hall was so thick in the air I felt like I needed to wade through it. The Gryffindors and Slytherins had joined up, taking two tables on one side of the Hall, so my group took the other two after I scanned the seats with my eye. I sat near the staff table, facing away from the Antis, but kept my eye constantly scanning behind me for any threats. I completely tuned out Dumbledore’s speech, though I did notice that his tone was forcefully calm, and I knew that whatever words he was saying had to be chosen carefully. I noticed a pair of Gryffindors ducking into the Hall, under an Invisibility Cloak, and covertly gave a thumbs-down to Jameson, who began to relay the message to the rest of the Allies. Since the Gryffindors had come in late, under an Invisibility Cloak, it was safe to assume they’d poisoned our food, and as it appeared on the table, none of us ate. My eye showed me that all of the food, and drinks, were lit up like a Christmas tree, and I once again wondered how the hell they’d managed to get their hands on so much poison. None of the four tables spoke much above whispers, and I noted the covert stares and scowls the Antis were throwing our way as we didn’t touch any of the food. I grinned humorlessly at Malfoy’s face, which looked like he’d just eaten an entire lemon, and ignored the complaints from my empty stomach. We sang the school song, and once we were dismissed, Professor McGonagall walked imperiously over to where I was sitting, a look of pure disdain and contempt clear on her face. I focused as hard as I could, and to my surprise, she wasn’t hiding her emotions, which I realized was intentional, since she was full of sympathy for me. Speaking loudly, enough for a few Antis to hear but not loud enough to make it obvious she wanted to be heard, McGonagall cleared her throat.
“Ollivander. My office, now. And, twenty points from Ravenclaw for improper dress.” A few snickers sounded out from the remaining Antis, but I stood, shooting a reassuring look at the others. The trip to her office was short, and once the door was shut, she sat behind her desk, removing her glasses ant speaking quietly.
“I am sorry to act that way, but… the situation outside of the castle being what it is, and my being the head of Gryffindor…” I was already waving her off.
“It’s alright. Nice trick with your emotions, by the way.” She dipped her head in thanks.
“I wished to inform you of which teachers you may trust. We, obviously, cannot make any moves against your enemies, but we will do whatever we can to… lessen their blows, as it were. Professors Sprout, Flitwick, myself, and Burbage are safe, as are Madam Pince and Madam Pomfrey.” I thanked her, and she put her glasses back on, standing.
“That is all. I’ll walk you to your common room.” I stood as well, before pausing.
“We’ll probably run into Antis on the way, right?” At her grimace, I sighed.
“I’ll help your undercover status a bit.” I drew my hand back, and slapped myself in the face as hard as I could, nearly falling over. I knocked into the chair, causing a loud noise, and took a moment to steady myself, eyes watering. She was shocked, but I held a finger to my lips, looking through the back of my head to see, as I’d suspected, several Antis listening from the corridor.
“There’s Antis out there. Let’s go. Don’t be afraid to drag me a little.” She composed herself, and, after fixing a stern look onto her face, she grabbed me by the arm, leading me out of her office. The Antis had scattered into shadowy corners or under Invisibility Cloaks, and as we passed I didn’t reveal the magical nature of my eye, as it was my best weapon against them. McGonagall did a good job playing her part, and I knew that the bright red handprint on my face would do more to help her as well. We made our way through the castle, towards Ravenclaw Tower, where I nodded to her once we were halfway up the stairs.
“No one around.” She let go, and our pace slowed a little.
“If I may ask, how did you do that trick with your eye?” I smiled a little, and pulled out my wand, removing the fake eye with it.
“My legs weren’t the only thing they had to replace.” She shook her head, bemused, and I popped my eye back in as we reached the landing. I scanned our surroundings again, and knocked six times on the door. A muffled voice spoke.
“Password?” I replied instantly, as I’d been the one to choose it.
“Aconite Tincture.” The door swung open, revealing a battalion of duellers, wands aimed at McGonagall. I raised a hand.
“Don’t worry. I’ll explain inside.” They shared a few looks, and I turned back to her.
“Thank you, Professor.” She nodded once, and with a glance at the duellers standing in the doorway, she left. I quickly entered, finding myself corralled by the door, Jameson standing in front of me, wand out.
“Why was she here?” I raised my hands.
“She’s on our side. She told me which professors to trust.” He narrowed his eyes, and I sighed.
“Fine.” I sat down, and lifted my robes, before popping both of my prosthetics off.
“That do it for you? The slap on my face is from myself, since there were Antis listening in and I wanted to help her keep undercover.” This was enough proof, and he lowered his wand as I popped my legs back in, a dueller helping me to my feet. I joined the others at the main table, after grabbing some food from a side table that was, thankfully, poison-free. I relayed which professors could be trusted to the others, and Julia spoke once I’d finished.
“It’s what we thought. Antis are blocking entrance to either common room, so a few of the older students expanded a couple broom closets to make room for more refugees.” My face darkened, and Hermione passed me a sheet of parchment with several names on it.
“Here’s Dumbledore’s list for the first years. We did what we could, but the Antis caught wind and snatched three of them. Two Hufflepuffs and a Gryffindor.” I scanned the list, noting the three captured students, and sighed.
“Add a rescue mission to the to-do list. Have we figured out how to get supplies for the antidotes?” She nodded, scribbling on her parchment.
“We have a few teams assembled to break into Snape’s storage. If what you said about Professor Sprout is true, it shouldn’t be much of a problem to get stuff from the greenhouses.” I frowned as a thought occurred to me.
“For the teams we’ll send to the greenhouses, make sure they leave some gold in her office. As a payment.” She nodded, speaking absentmindedly.
“And for Snape?” Ron snorted.
“A Dung Bomb or Stink Pellet would be good payment.” I shook my head.
“We can’t risk that. Just take it from him. No payment, no pranks.” She continued to take notes, and Harry took the opportunity to speak.
“As we have a bit of privacy at the moment, I think we should figure out who’s doing what here. To my understanding, the six of us are sort of the deciding party for the Allies, but we should establish jobs, of a sort. So we don’t overwork one thing while leaving another to chance, y’know?” I nodded.
“That makes sense. Anyone want to volunteer?” Jameson raised a hand.
“I can handle duellers. Most of them are Ravenclaws anyway.” Ron went next, puffing his chest a little.
“I’ll handle grouping, as well as corralling the younger students. It’s a bit like Quidditch, in my opinion.” I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, and Harry took the job of teaching non-duellers defensive magic, Julia volunteered to manage food and other necessities, while Hermione chose to lead the information-gathering teams.
“Alright, then. Sounds like we’re all in order, eh?” I nodded in agreement with Ron.
“And I suppose I’ll sort of overlook everything? As well as being the beauty of the operation, naturally.” Jameson cracked a smile, while Ron and Harry laughed.
“Meeting adjourned, I guess.” The rest of them filtered off to their respective jobs, Hermione staying at the table and writing, while I headed back to the food table, keen on seconds. As I was biting into a croissant, Ginny sidled up to me.
“Hey, Siobhan.” I tried to speak around the croissant, failed, and swallowed with some difficulty before responding sheepishly.
“Heya, Ginny. How’re you?” She shrugged, and we walked over to a less-populated part of the common room.
“Not terrible. I heard about the trolley.” I nodded darkly, taking a drink of (non-poisoned) Pumpkin Juice.
“Yeah.” Neither of us said much for a little, the weight of the recent murder attempts souring the mood a little.
“Siobhan… I just wanted to say, and obviously no one knows what happened, but I’m here for you. No matter what.” I knew what she was referring to, and looked down.
“Thanks.” She patted my hand lightly, but otherwise left me alone, instead just sitting next to me.
“Could—Could you talk about something? Anything, just…” She nodded quickly, and started talking about the Quidditch World Cup, which had been attacked by Death Eaters, yet another hate group the resistance had to deal with. She deftly avoided the nastier parts of the story, instead focusing on the game itself, which, even though I had no interest in the sport, was a good distraction. As she started to run out of things to talk about, I finished my Pumpkin Juice, and looked up at her.
“Thanks. For talking. I know it probably seems one-sided, but…” She smiled at me.
“It’s alright. Get some rest, boss.” I rolled my eyes, which got a giggle from her, and stood, heading to my cot, worn out by the day’s events.
Chapter 17: Harvey
Chapter Text
CW: very graphic description of a mutilated corpse, another mention of SA (the f*cker dies this chapter, rest in piss oliver)
To say that Hogwarts became a warzone would be inaccurate. As the term began, it turned into a game of espionage and counter-espionage. Neither side could outright attack the other, but we were constantly avoiding ambushes, testing food for poisons, and watching each other’s backs in class. That’s not to say that we laid down and took it, though; Fred and George, along with Lee Jordan, another Gryffindor Ally, launched a merciless campaign of pranks on the Antis, ranging from erasing notes, Vanishing completed essays, dropping Stink Pellets in the Slytherin common room, and enchanting the Gryffindor dormitories so that the beds were magically stuck to the ceiling. It paled in comparison to attempted murder, but it lifted the spirits of everyone in Ravenclaw Tower when they’d come back from a successful prank, telling stories about narrowly dodging Filch, or the looks on the Antis’ faces when they discovered the latest prank. It was November before we managed to get enough information to stage a rescue on the captured first-years, and I decided to lead the team, Jameson and several duellers joining, as well as a few older students who were studying curse-breaking. We knew that the three kids were in the dungeons, near Slytherin’s common room, and set out late at night, making our way carefully through the castle, using my eye to make sure we stayed out of sight. The hard part wasn’t necessarily making it to the dungeons, though; it was getting the first-years out. I peeked through a wall, spying two Antis hiding in the shadows near a doorway, and explained where they were at to a few duellers, who threw an Invisibility Cloak (I think Harry had lent his) over themselves and crept up. I kept watch, and let out a quiet breath as they Stunned both Antis, putting them in Full Body-Bind curses. The rest of the group met up with them at the door, and I peeked through, noting that the room on the other side was empty. I led the way, easing the old oak door open, and examined the room for traps, noting that the other end of the room had two doors, but I was too far away to see through the heavy wood just yet. Two duellers stood guard outside, and I crept up to the first door, close enough to look in, and saw two of the first-years huddled up together in a small, cell-like room. I nodded to Jameson, who examined the first door, opening it and shushing the two kids as I moved to the second door. I had a bad feeling in my gut as I prepared to look through the wall, a small voice in my head wondering why they’d separated the first-years the way they had, but my blood ran cold as I looked through the wall and into the second room. As soon as I registered what I was seeing, I turned away, blood draining from my face. One of the duellers saw my reaction, and moved to open the door, but I stopped her, shaking my head slightly.
“Get Jameson.” My tone was the most serious it had ever been, and she didn’t hesitate, retrieving him from the first room. At my face, he paled as well, and spoke in a low whisper.
“What is it?” I gulped, at a loss for words, until an idea popped into my head.
“G-Get the kid with the camera. Creevey, right?” He nodded, not questioning me, and sent one of the duellers to get him from the Tower. We spent a few minutes waiting, nervous, until he arrived, anxiously looking around.
“Colin? I need you to show me how to use your camera.” Confused, but not questioning the tone of my voice, he explained how to use the viewfinder, the shutter, and flash, until I was satisfied I could take pictures with it. He offered to do it himself, but I cut him off quickly, promising I’d take care of the camera. I took it from him, and the rest of the team moved back, allowing me to enter the second room without anyone seeing what was inside.
It was horrible. I didn’t know who could’ve done it, but there was a good reason I didn’t let anyone see it. The third first-year had been killed, his body mutilated horribly, almost to the point it was unrecognizable. Blood coated the walls, floor, and some had splattered onto the ceiling. I gagged, the smell overwhelming me, and tried not to throw up as I took several pictures. The idea I had in mind was risky, but it needed to be done, if only to prove how far the Antis were willing to go. His ribs had been cracked outward, revealing the organs underneath, while his arms and legs had been carved up to the point that muscle was hanging loosely from the bone. His face was untouched, but frozen in such a look of pure terror that I had to stop several times and look away. I took four pictures, and as the camera printed them out, I tucked them into my robes, finishing up and taking one last look at his body before quietly exiting. Jameson was waiting, alone, saying that he’d sent the rest of the team back with the two other first-years. I nodded, and made to leave, but he stopped me.
“What’s in there that has you so spooked?” I spoke softly, unable to speak above a deathly silent whisper.
“I won’t stop you from looking. But I’d suggest you don’t.” Obviously, he looked, and I heard him retch from the other side of the door, before he re-emerged, with the same expression I had.
“Why on earth would you need a camera?” I sighed grimly.
“The Antis want to hide this away? Try to act righteous? I think a few hundred posters with his name on it in their common rooms and the staffroom will give it the attention it deserves.” He didn’t say anything, and the two of us returned to the Ravenclaw Tower in silence. The two first-years were at the food table, supervised by Julia, and I followed Jameson up to his dormitory, where, once we were alone, I quickly hurried to the bathroom and threw up into one of the toilets. I heard him enter, and watched through the stall wall as he threw up into the toilet next to me, looking away after a second. Once I was finished, I blew my nose, flushed, and weakly walked over to the sink, where I washed my hands. I spat into the sink, and watched as he flushed, emerging from the stall paler than a ghost. As he cleaned himself up, I sat on one of the beds, the four photos in my pocket feeling like cinderblocks.
“How could…” I didn’t look up as he sat on a bed across from me.
“Some people just need an excuse.” A knock sounded at the door, and I glanced over, seeing Ron and Hermione on the other side. I spoke quietly to Jameson.
“It’s Ron and Hermione.” He waved airily, and I called them in. At the sight of the two of us, Hermione’s expression became worried.
“All we heard from the others was that you wouldn’t let anyone into one of the rooms. And that you borrowed Colin’s camera.” I looked down at the floor.
“Yeah.” Ron spoke next, with a slight edge to his voice.
“What’s going on, Siobhan? What did you two see down there? And, where’s Harvey?” At the mention of his name, Jameson leaned over a rubbish bin, throwing up, while I couldn’t control myself any longer, and burst into tears. Hermione was at my side in a flash, hugging me, and I cried for a few minutes before I regained my composure. Ron was watching from next to Jameson, clearly afraid, and Hermione kept an arm around me. Jameson wiped his mouth, and spoke slowly, almost as if he was forcing the words out.
“We… In the other room… Siobhan saw him through the wall first, I think. She wouldn’t let anyone in, and told me to send someone to get Colin.” I nodded, sniffling, as he continued.
“When Colin got there with his camera, she asked him to show her how to take pictures with it, and went into the room by herself. While she was in there, I sent the rest of the team back with the other kids, and Obliviated the two Antis that had been guarding the room. When she came out, I asked what was in there, and…” he fell silent, and Ron looked at me.
“I can show you the pictures. I don’t want to, but if you have to know, I’d advise getting a trash can.” Ron was thoroughly afraid, but still nodded, Jameson handing him the can he’d been using as I withdrew the photos from my robes. Hermione elected to leave, and as Ron looked at them, he paled, and promptly threw up. He quickly handed them back to me, not having gotten past the first one, and leaned over the trash can.
“Merlin’s beard.” Jameson chuckled weakly from the bed, having laid back.
“She suggested I didn’t look, as well. Bit of a poor choice on both our parts, eh?” Ron spat into the can, and looked up at me.
“What are we going to do?” I shrugged.
“Print a few hundred posters, and stick them up in the Slytherin and Gryffindor common rooms, as well as the staffroom. They wanted this under wraps, so I figure we could show everyone what they’ve been hiding.” He nodded slowly.
“What about the Ministry? We could get them arrested.” I shot him a wry grin.
“Think so? I imagine that the second we publicly oppose them, we’re next in line. Getting the Ministry involved will only get us labelled as a terrorist group.” He sighed.
“S’pose. Well, let’s get to work. Think two hundred will do? Fred and George can probably break into the common rooms to put them up.” I looked at him, incredulous, and he raised an eyebrow.
“What? They killed a child, Siobhan. I trust your judgement, so the only way forward is to follow the plan. The sooner those posters go up, the better.” I grimaced, and stood.
“Keep it under wraps, alright? I want as few people as possible seeing the posters, especially the younger kids.” He nodded, and left, presumably to assemble a crew. I looked at Jameson, who’d grabbed a pillow and was holding it tightly, staring off into space.
“C’mon. Game face, yeah? The second they see the people they look up to acting like we are now, it’s over.” He gulped, and reached under the bed, withdrawing a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhiskey.
“Liquid courage?” I nodded, and he unstoppered the bottle, taking a long drink and handing it to me, coughing violently. I followed suit, coughing as it burned a line down my throat, and handed the bottle back.
“Might need that in the future.” He smiled thinly.
“’Spect I will, too. You know where to find it.” He stood, and followed me as I exited the dormitory. The room was filled with hushed whispers, and I saw Ron standing by a closed door. He caught sight of me, and nodded in the direction of the door as everyone stopped talking at the sight of the two of us. I quickly made my way through the common room, meeting up with Ron.
“Got Fred, George, and the others in there. ‘Mione is over by the food asking Creevey how to make the posters.” I nodded, and entered, finding a small room with several chairs scattered around it. Ron must’ve given them some sort of heads-up, as their faces were all drawn, and at my entrance they perked up.
“Siobhan. Ron told us.” I nodded, and, once the door was shut behind Jameson and I, collapsed into a chair near a window. Jameson sat on the floor next to me, and withdrew the firewhiskey from his robes.
“They need to see it. They’ll be working on the posters anyway.” I grabbed the bottle from him, and took another drink, digging the photos out of my robes. “You might want a rubbish bin.” The photos made a circuit around the room, followed quickly by the firewhiskey, and once Harry handed the photos back to me I stuffed them into my robes.
“You see why I want to do this?” A few people nodded, while others were busy vomiting or staring at the floor.
“Imagine if even one percent of the Antis abandons their cause after seeing this. Hell, maybe a professor.” Ron entered, followed by Hermione, and once the door was shut, I continued.
“If any of you don’t feel comfortable working on this, there’s no judgement. I’m not forcing anyone to do anything they don’t want to.” One of the twins (I was never sure which one was Fred and which one was George) looked up at me.
“If I’m allowed access to firewhiskey, I can manage.” I nodded, completely serious.
“I’ll pay for it. Merlin knows I’ll need it too.” The only person that bowed out was Hermione, and after several reassurances that I didn’t think any less of her, she left to check on the two surviving first-years. I glanced out of the window, noting that the moon was slowly making it’s descent, and cleared my throat.
“Shall we?”
The work was long, grueling, and hellish. Hermione had given us a sheet of parchment with instructions, as well as several feet of parchment to use for the posters, and we worked through the night. The seven of us took shifts, since none of us could look at the pictures for very long stretches of time, and by the time Hermione checked on us, around eight hours later, we were either sullenly staring at walls or floors or anything except the stacks of posters (as was the case for myself, Ron, and Julia) or in a drunken stupor (as was the case for the others). We’d had to get three more bottles of firewhiskey, but the job was done, and we filtered out of the room, Hermione locking it behind her as the rest of us stumbled off to our beds, or empty sofas near the fire. I was too disturbed to sleep, but too tired to do much of anything, so I sat and stared into the fire, Jameson joining me after a nap.
“C’mon.” I looked over, confused as to where he was going to go, but he was already walking, and I followed him over to a doorway which led to a small balcony/parapet in the Tower. He sat in one of the two chairs, and pulled out a pipe not dissimilar from the one Sirius had, though this one was a little shorter. I sat next to him as he filled the pipe, and lit it, letting out a puff of smoke into the cool autumn air. He offered it to me, and after a moment I accepted, taking a small puff to get an idea of the flavor. It was pleasant, tasting like cherries, and I took a longer drag before handing it back.
“Once the twins sober up, we’ll start getting ready to hang the posters.” I nodded, and we lapsed into silence, watching the countryside as the sun slowly rose into the sky.
Two days later, I was sitting in the Great Hall during the lunch hour, not eating anything (of course) when Oliver (the Anti ringleader and older Slytherin from the forest) stormed up to where I sat, his face bright red. He spoke in a furious whisper, barely able to contain his anger.
“You’re going to regret that little stunt. Papering our common rooms in our sleep? Coward.” I looked up at him calmly.
“Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to only put them in your common rooms?” Confusion flashed across his face, and I shot a meaningful look at the staff table, which was completely empty. Comprehension dawned on him, and, before I could do anything, he drew his fist back and punched me square in the nose. As I was reeling, nose broken and bloody, he grabbed my neck and pulled me up, choking me.
“You’re next, Mike.” He held his pose for a moment longer, before releasing me and stalking off. The Great Hall had been relatively empty, and I gathered my things, meeting up with a dueller on his way into the Hall, who promptly drew his wand and fell into step beside me. As we made our way back to the Tower, more Allies saw me and joined the group, forming a small phalanx around me until we were safely in the common room. I wiped the blood from my face, and, too incensed to use my wand, cracked my nose back into place with my hands. The only other group leader in the common room was Ron, who rushed over as soon as he saw me. I explained what had occurred through short, raspy sentences to him and a few others, and as my story finished, Ron’s face turned cold with fury.
“That little snake.” I nodded.
“But, it means it worked.” We were distracted by a commotion at the door, and I jumped up, wand out as the guards quickly moved out of the way, revealing Professor Flitwick.
“Where is Miss Ollivander?” I lowered my wand, and stepped out, Flitwick hurrying over to me once he caught sight of me.
“Can we speak, in private?” I nodded, and led him over to the room we’d used to make the posters. Once the door was shut, with Ron standing guard, he sank into a chair weakly.
“As you can imagine, we saw the staffroom. The only reason the entire faculty isn’t here is because I’m the only one who can go to Ravenclaw Tower without arousing suspicion.” I was still standing, and was surprised by his next request.
“I know it’s a bit… unprofessional, but do you by chance have anything to drink?” I moved over to the collection of empty firewhiskey bottles on a side table and, finding a half-full one, brought it over to him.
“Thank you. We are all at a loss. We had no idea that they had taken things this far… Word is spreading to the other resistance groups outside the castle, as well.” I sat across from him, and withdrew Jameson’s pipe, waving my wand to open a window as I lit it.
“I will overlook both the firewhiskey and the pipe for the time being, as it were. Dumbledore is writing to Harvey’s family as we speak, and Professor Snape is retrieving his… him from the dungeons.” I took a long drag, and he passed me the bottle.
“I can’t imagine the pressure you must’ve been under, Miss Ollivander. I never thought…” I took a sip.
“That’s not all. You know how we’ve not been eating in the Great Hall? That started when they spiked the entire trolley with basilisk venom on the train. Thank Merlin I thought to check it first, because if I hadn’t…” He paled, and took the bottle back.
“I—In any case, you have the full support of the faculty. I am in pieces at the fact we can’t be more vocal, but if students are capable of such an act, then… I’d rather not think about it too much, frankly.” A knock sounded at the door, and I looked through it to see Dumbledore, waiting calmly.
“Come in, Headmaster.” He entered, and as soon as he stepped into a clear line of sight, I froze. As the door shut, he locked it, but I could now see that the person in front of me was, in fact, not Dumbledore, but someone using a Polyjuice Potion. His vision turned to Flitwick, who hiccuped, already feeling the firewhiskey, and he drew his wand, Stunning the professor and Disarming me silently before I could draw my wand. I managed to scream for a split second before he cast a Silencing Charm, rendering me mute, and spoke quietly.
“Told you, Mikey. You’re next.” Acting fast, I rolled out of the chair, narrowly avoiding a curse, and grabbed the bottle from where Flitwick had dropped it, and threw it as hard as I could at the fake Dumbledore. As I suspected, Oliver’s instinct as a Quidditch player took over, and he dodged it, which meant that it shattered loudly against the door, causing Ron to turn around, alarmed. Oliver swore, and lunged at me as I crawled away, throwing whatever I could get my hands on at him, chairs, inkpots, blank rolls of parchment, but ultimately I ended up backed into a corner. He towered over me, and fear flooded my mind, memories of the forest jumping to the front of my thoughts as he grinned, Polyjuice Potion beginning to fade away.
“Bringing back any good memories?” I shut my eyes, terrified, but before he could say anything else I heard a tremendous explosion, a rush of dust and debris hitting my face. I didn’t dare open my eyes, feeling a hand grab me roughly and wrench me up off of the ground. When I opened my eyes, I realized that he’d grabbed me to use me as a human shield, backing himself into the corner and holding me between himself and Ron, who’d gotten several duellers to join him. His wand was pressed against my temple, and Ron slowly raised his free hand.
“C’mon, mate. We can talk, yeah?” I tried to speak, but I was still silenced, and could do nothing more than mouth words at Ron. Oliver started giggling maniacally, but before he could do much else a steel rod appeared from the tip of a dueller’s wand, slamming into my shoulder and piercing through into Oliver’s chest, which was what I’d been mouthing at Ron to do. The Silencing Charm broke, and I gasped loudly, pinned against Oliver as the others watched, horror growing on their faces. I felt something start to drip onto my shoulder, and rotated my eye over to see that blood was leaking from his mouth, though he was still smiling. He raised his wand weakly, and before anyone could intervene, spat out a spell, garbled by the blood in his mouth but still terrifyingly understandable.
“A-Avada Kedavra.” I jerked my head back as fast as I could, bright green light filling the space my head had just been in, and felt him go limp, pinned upright by the steel rod. My shoulder ached, and I spoke frantically.
“Get me out, get me out, get me out!” Two duellers hurried over, and carefully pulled the steel rod out of the wall, and Oliver’s chest, leaving it in my shoulder to keep the wound from bleeding too much. His body fell to the ground, and as I was helped out of the room, Ron uncovered Flitwick from the splinters that had once been the door. One of the duellers, the one who’d shot the steel rod at me, draped an Invisibility cloak over part of my body, covering the wound and helping me walk to the door.
“Hospital Wing?” I nodded, still in shock, and questioned her as we quickly walked down the stairs.
“How’d you know what I was saying?” She smiled slightly as the other dueller cleared a path through throngs of students.
“My parents are deaf. I learned to read lips when I was little, as well as sign language.” Madam Pomfrey, as soon as the cloak was removed, gasped, and guided me to a bed, instructing me to sit.
“I must keep one of these beds reserved for you, dear.” I smiled, and promptly gritted my teeth as she removed the rod with her wand, quickly daubing Essence of Dittany into the hole in my shoulder and beginning the process of bandaging it.
Chapter 18: He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named
Chapter Text
With Oliver’s death ruled an accident, though everyone in the castle knew that the official story was an outright lie, the Antis seemed to withdraw as Winter Break drew closer. I was planning on going to Grimmauld Place with Harry, leaving the castle to the others while I was gone, since I wasn’t a big fan of potentially being killed even in my own common room. I also wanted to go back and make sure no one tried anything on the train, a sentiment Harry echoed. He still didn’t know that Lily was alive, as she’d remained hidden in Grimmauld Place, but after Sirius had written several extensive letters proving his innocence (and mentioning that Harry was his godson), Harry decided to go back with me and visit. I kept a constant watch, sitting in the cabin closest to no-man’s-land, though the train ride passed without issue, which I was grateful for. The two of us supervised the offloading of our group from the train, and once we were sure everyone was accounted for, met up with Remus and Sophie. The trip to Grimmauld Place wasn’t long, the four of us ducking down an alleyway and Apparating, and I quietly joined Sirius and Lily in the lounge under the pretense of tiredness. Lily was nervous, which was understandable, and Sirius shared his pipe with me while the others made their way to the lounge. As he entered, Harry first saw me, then Sirius, before his eyes turned to Lily, who was watching him, uncertain. He stopped in his tracks, recognition flashing across his face, and after a long pause, he spoke quietly, almost not believing what he was saying.
“M-Mum?” Knowing the emotion that was about to be released in the room would overwhelm me, I made an excuse to leave, and found Tonks in the basem*nt.
“Welcome back, Siobhan.” Everyone had a very somber mood about them, which I knew was because of the posters, and I was waiting for someone to bring it up, as I had no idea what they thought about it. I was, for the first time, unable to sense the emotions of the majority of the people in the house, which led me to believe they were being very careful about what they thought. This didn’t help my nerves, but I sat across from her, complimenting the dark blue hair.
“Thanks. I like it too.” An awkward silence grew, filling the space between us, and I fiddled with the zipper on my jacket, unsure of what to say. She looked up at me, amused, and spoke after a moment.
“Dumbledore gave us some pointers on Occlumency. You’re worried about what all of us grown-ups think of your poster thing, right?” My face must’ve betrayed how worried I was, because she smiled gently.
“Don’t worry. Everyone agrees that you made the best out of a terrible situation. Not a lot of people would’ve thought to do that.” I nodded, reassured slightly. I sighed, and changed the subject.
“How long do you think Harry and Lily are going to be up there?” She grinned.
“Figure they won’t come down ‘til it’s time to go back to Hogwarts.” I smiled.
“Guess they deserve it.” She nodded, and I snuck a peek up through the floor, seeing Lily and Harry crying into each other’s shoulders. Tonks let out a yelp, and I looked back at her, frowning.
“What’s wrong?” I realized that she’d probably watched my magic eye move on it’s own, and drew my wand.
“Oh, check this out.” I popped the eye out, and levitated it over to the middle of the table. “It’s a magic eye. Lost my real one last year.” I looked around with it, causing the pupil to dart around mid-air. She seemed a little grossed-out, so I popped it back in.
“Sorry.” I rolled it around a bit, and blinked as Sirius walked into the basem*nt, Remus and Sophie with him.
“Figured we’d give them some privacy.” I nodded, and laid my head on the table, glad to be able to lower my guard for once, since there was no way any Antis could get to me here. Sophie put a hand on my back, and Remus puttered around in the kitchen, making tea. It wasn’t until we’d all had a cup of tea that Harry and Lily walked in, all of our eyes turning to them. Lily was beaming, and Harry was grinning, the joy in their emotions causing me to grin involuntarily. The seven of us enjoyed the tea, Lily sharing several stories from Harry’s infancy that had me rolling in my seat laughing, while his face was red with embarrassment, all of my worries forgotten.
Winter Break was a good break from running half of the student body, but my mind was brought out of the carefree mood as soon as I was on the train. I kept an eye out, once again in the closest cabin, and notified the rest of the Allies when I caught sight of the trolley, which was once again spiked. I felt bad for the trolley witch, since she was making next to no money, and gave her a few galleons when she made her way back up the train. I had a feeling she’d been alerted to the fact that the Antis may be poisoning her candy, since she apologized when I gave her the gold.
“I tried to keep an eye on it, but…” I waved her off.
“Not your fault.” The only other incident occurred as I was stretching my legs, and spotted Malfoy loitering in no-man’s-land. He caught sight of me, and raised an eyebrow.
“Dangerous business, walking alone.” I raised an eyebrow, tapping my fingers on the handle of my wand, which was slightly sticking out of my robes.
“Could say the same to you.” He shrugged.
“I’m not too worried. Besides, Oliver’s death was a complete accident, right?” At the mention of his name, I flinched a little, and an unreadable expression crossed his face, too far away from me to be able to read his emotions.
“Bit of a raw subject, I see. Well, as a professional courtesy, I should have you know that I’ve succeeded Oliver’s position.” I inclined my head.
“It may be a bit too much to ask, especially considering the nature of your group, but I would appreciate it if we avoided similar incidents to what occurred in November.” It was his turn to flinch, and he smiled thinly.
“You have my word, however much you value it, that it will not happen again.” I was naturally suspicious, but hoped he was being genuine.
“I should get back to my side, eh?” He nodded.
“As should I. Best of luck in your campaign against me, Siobhan. Hopefully you’re the Mistress of Strategy you’ve been made out to be, as I won’t be going easy on you.” My eyes narrowed slightly at his use of my pronouns, but I didn’t point it out.
“Likewise.” We went our separate ways, Harry frowning at my confused face.
“What happened?” I sat, still confused, and explained the interaction with Malfoy. It confused him as well, but after a moment he voiced a theory I was thinking about as well.
“Might be a trick. If it isn’t, might change my opinion of him a bit, but regardless I don’t think you should lower your guard.” I agreed, and once the train pulled into the station, I herded the Allies to the carriages, not receiving any resistance from the Antis. Instead of going to the Great Hall, I led my group straight to the Tower, where the others were waiting. I got a report from Hermione, and read it on the balcony with Jameson, sharing a pipe.
“Was pretty quiet over break, which was nice. Couple pranks here and there.” I puffed out a cloud in the shape of a square.
“Heard the news? Malfoy is the head of the snake.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah?” I nodded, handing him the pipe.
“Told me himself. Asked him to consider not repeating November, and he gave me his word. Whatever that’s worth.” He thought for a moment, looking out over the balcony.
“Not much, but I hope he’s sincere. If that happens again, I don’t think it’ll stay as peaceful as it has been.” It had been anything but peaceful, but I knew what he meant. If anything like that happened again, it’d be an all-out war in the castle.
“At the risk of sounding callous, as a whole it’s over. Tit for tat, y’know? I don’t think either side wants to push that envelope any further. They spiked the candy with sleeping potions instead of basilisk venom this time.” He took a long drag, and handed the pipe back.
“S’pose so. Feel like we should give a speech about it, y’know? Just… say something, I guess.” I took a couple puffs, and sighed, smoke curling from my nose.
“Yeah. I let them down. Promised I wouldn’t let anyone die, and now I’ve got two people on my conscience.” He patted my shoulder, and stood.
“I’ll gather the masses. Take your time with the pipe.” I thanked him, and he left me on the balcony, where I sat for a few minutes, trying to figure out what to say. Eventually, I gave up on trying to plan a speech ahead, and stood, clamping the pipe between my teeth and heading inside. Jameson had indeed gathered the Allies together, and at my entrance the conversation died down. I snuffed out the pipe, and clasped my hands behind my back, looking out at the crowded common room.
“I failed. That’s the simplest way to put it. I promised that no one would die, and I failed to uphold my promise. I’ve let all of you down, and I accept all responsibility. For Harvey, and even Oliver.” A few mutters spread as I mentioned Oliver, and I frowned.
“Yes, him as well. The second we start devaluing one life over the other, no matter the reason, we become just as bad as the Antis. You may not agree with me, and that’s fine. Indeed, if you all feel that I’ve betrayed your trust in my failure, I will be more than happy to step down and have someone lead in my place.” Shocked gasps and murmurs erupted in the room, the other leaders looking at me, surprised. I continued after the room had quieted a little.
“I’m only a fourth-year. I’m not as old, or as smart as some of you. I’ll go back outside, and give you all some privacy to decide what you think should be done.” With that, I turned on my heel, and returned to the balcony, relighting the pipe. As I suspected, the rest of the leaders crammed into the tiny balcony, shutting the door behind them before speaking. Ron spoke first, as I perched on the wide stone railing.
“What the bloody hell has gotten into you? You can’t give up now. We need you.” I shrugged.
“That’s for them to decide.” Harry spoke next, backing Ron up, and Julia interjected.
“You saved the club, brought houses together, kept people safe. If it wasn’t for your eye, we’d all be long dead from the basilisk venom.” I looked down, thinking back to the reason I had to get the magic eye in the first place.
“The only reason I got that eye was because of the Antis. If I hadn’t gotten so involved, maybe it’d be different. Maybe they wouldn’t have gotten so violent.” Hermione snorted derisively.
“Oh, bollocks. Everyone in this Tower knows that without you it’d be much worse.” I blew a cloud of smoke, and raised my hands.
“Like I said, the decision isn’t mine to make. I’m honoring my word.” Ron scowled, and stomped back inside, followed by Harry. Jameson, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet, spoke as the door swung shut behind Harry.
“For the sake of the Allies, I hope they make the right choice.” I hopped off of the railing, and snuffed the pipe, handing it to him and leading the way back in, several loud arguments falling quiet at my reappearance. Ron was glaring at anyone that looked at him, and I kept my face neutral as I waited for the verdict. To my surprise, it was Julien who stood.
“You’re staying. We need you in charge.” I bowed my head for a moment.
“As you wish.”
Malfoy honored his word, though he definitely wasn’t going easy on me. The Antis de-escalated to pranks, which only inspired Fred and George even more, and it felt as though the school let out a collective sigh of relief that things had calmed. Some of the more bloodthirsty Antis still beat up Allies occasionally, but it was never as serious as it had been, which boded well for the future. I worked harder than before to make sure the correct precautions were being taken, sleeping only a couple hours every few days as I monitored everything I could. I was not going to let things get as out of hand as they had, and was determined to cover as many variables as I physically could. The faculty seemed relieved as well, which I gathered to mean that there was no repercussions from the Ministry, since Oliver’s death was officially an accident, and Fudge couldn’t care less about Harvey. Late one night, as I was pouring over more data from outside the castle (Harvey had become a martyr for our cause, as much as Oliver had become one for the opposition), when a quiet knock at the door brought me out of my focus. I glanced over, noting that the common room was mostly empty, and stood, quietly making my way to the door. When I peered through, I saw Malfoy, alone. Drawing my wand, I opened the door softly, and whispered to him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He scratched the back of his neck, looking very nervous.
“Can we talk?” I felt for his emotions, and, not sensing any malicious intent, sighed, walking out of the common room and shutting the door behind me. We made our way to the first alcove below the landing, and I waited expectantly.
“You must have a pretty good reason to go this deep into enemy territory, alone.” He glanced over his shoulder, and I scanned around us with my eye.
“Don’t worry. No one else is here.” He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question me.
“Alright, then. I was curious as to whether or not you’re ready to concede.” I snorted, and leaned back against the wall.
“As if. I could ask the same of you.” He smirked, and I asked a question that’d been on my mind since the train.
“So, Draco, if you don’t mind me asking…” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“What you said on the train. Not our agreement, but after that. Bit bold on your part, y’know. Most Antis would call me Michael and get on with it.” He grimaced.
“Ah. Well, I wouldn’t say this in mixed company, but… My place as leader is more out of status as opposed to devotion or belief in the cause. I may not be very kind in public, but that’s to save face. If my family wasn’t…” He cut himself off.
“I respect you. Let’s leave it at that.” I nodded.
“I’ll take that. I respect you as well. You’re not half bad at strategy. Although, I’m getting a little bored going easy on you.” His smirk returned, and he snorted.
“I was just about to say the same. Ah, I should get back before I’m missed.” We stepped out of the alcove, and I shook his hand before heading back up to the common room, keen on getting some rest.
As exam season closed in, the pranks began to lessen on both sides as we focused on school. I set up scheduled times for groups to visit the library, so no one was there alone, and Hermione set up study groups for the younger students in the common room. I tried to balance my time studying with the time I spent with the Allies, but I quickly realized that I’d have to choose one or the other. Obviously, I went with studying, betting on the high probability that the Antis would do the same. I was a bit worried that there would be pranks during exams, but another midnight meeting with Malfoy resolved that, both of us agreeing to stall any plans until exams were over. The first few exams went well, since they were subjects I was fairly good at (Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, and Muggle Studies), and I had two free days to cram for my remaining exams in History of Magic, Potions, and Herbology. I decided to start reviewing my notes out on the Tower’s balcony, since it was quiet. A large group of students had gone to Hogsmeade, which meant I had no one to interrupt me, diving into the stack of notes Professor Binns had claimed was ‘integral to understanding the examination.’ The majority of it was mind-numbingly dull, covering goblin clans and Merpeople politics, but a small section towards the end on the third Crusade interested me, since a battalion of British wizards fought for King Richard I against wizards fighting for Salah ad-Din. That section had been a departure from the dull nature of the class, Professor Binns droning on about epic battles and incredible magic in his nasally tone. I spent several hours studying, until I was confident I could eke out a decent grade, and rubbed my eyes, packing up my notes and heading back inside. Before I closed the door fully, a hoot sounded out in the distance, and I glanced back through my head, spying Angharad gliding towards me. I turned, and waited patiently, smiling as she landed on my shoulder and nuzzled into my neck. I stroked her feathers, and took the letter she held in her beak, unfolding it to reveal a short message from Sirius that made my blood run cold.
Siobhan,
Find Harry. In danger. Death Eaters on move.
Sirius
I turned quickly, Angharad giving a disgruntled hoot as she took flight, but I wasn’t focused on her, walking quickly through the common room. I was about to wave at a few duellers that were dozing around the fire, but my posture must’ve alerted them to the fact that something was wrong, as they jumped to their feet to follow me. We hurried through the castle, during which time I explained to them what the note had said. I needed to get to Hogsmeade, as Harry had been among the group that had gone, and I ran into Jameson on the way out of the castle. I didn’t stop walking, instead handing him the note, and I heard him turn to follow us once he’d read it.
“Hey, Siobhan, isn’t this from—” I waved him off, breaking into a run as I spied a jet of purple light flash from the direction of the Shrieking Shack. The walk to the fence around the Shack only took a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity, the scene when we arrived making me realize just how serious the situation was. Harry and two others were frantically duelling four masked figures, all of whom were wearing masks, and I drew my wand, knowing I was a lousy dueller but wanting to help somehow. As we joined the fray, the four Death Eaters realized the odds were turning against them, and one lunged forward, reaching for Harry with a gloved hand. I broke into a sprint, trying to get to them before the Death Eater did whatever they were trying to do, and managed to grasp the edge of their cloak as they Disapparated, whisking Harry and I away with a loud crack.
After a moment of suffocating darkness, we arrived in a foggy cemetery, and I grunted in pain, a square of skin having been lost during the trip (I’d read up on Apparition in one of my books, and knew that the loss of a body part was common in unfocused Apparition), blood seeping into my jeans. I looked up to see where the Death Eater was, only to feel a fist smash into my jaw, knocking me to the ground. Stars danced in front of my face, and I tried to recover, taking too long as a Body-Bind Curse froze me in place. I rolled my eye around frantically, and caught sight of Harry, who’d been frozen as well, being moved over to a large, black cauldron. Beside it was the same balding man from last year (Peter, I thought), who was holding a small cloth bundle in his arms. Once Harry had been moved beside him, he drew his wand, waving it and beginning to chant, various ingredients rising from the ground next to him and dropping into the cauldron, which began to boil, hissing and spitting out gouts of fire. I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, being too far away, and nearly threw up (which would not have gone well with the Body-Bind Curse) as he cut off his off-hand, having handed the bundle to one of the hooded figures. He dropped it into the cauldron, and hastily bandaged the stump, waving his wand at Harry, causing one of his arms to snap out over the cauldron. With another spell, a cut opened up on his hand, dripping blood into the cauldron, and after a moment, Peter nodded to the figure holding the bundle, who dropped it into the cauldron. A grating screech shook the ground, which distracted the Death Eater who’d cursed me, ending the spell and freeing me. I quickly darted off behind a large headstone, knowing I needed to wait for a chance to strike, the cauldron seeming to crumple in on itself, forming a molten ball of iron that spun rapidly. I tried to think of a spell to use, cursing my luck that I, quite possibly the worst dueller in the castle, had been stuck in this situation, but a burst of light brought my attention back to the ball of metal, which had exploded, sending a cloud of smoke into the air. In it’s place stood a tall, pale form, wearing a simple black cloak, but a deep feeling of dread filled me as I realized what had to have happened. You-Know-Who lazily turned to Peter, who handed him a wand before scurrying back a few steps. To my horror, he turned to look directly at where I was hiding, and spoke.
“Your mind is… Quite loud. And… interesting.” He flicked his wand, and the headstone cracked in half, two sides falling away to reveal me. I clumsily tried to jinx him, but was too slow, an invisible rope jerking me off of my feet and towards him. I floated up, next to Harry, and resisted the urge to scream as I both saw Voldemort’s face and detected his emotions. His skin was smooth, bone-white, and his eyes were a dark, crimson red, hovering above two slits in the place of his nose; his mind was much more disturbing, a nexus of anger, evil, and contempt so strong I reddened. He looked me over curiously, interest filtering through the anger, and spoke.
“You must be the one who survived a Dementor’s Kiss. Siobhan Ollivander, was it?” My head was freed from the curse, and I nodded shakily, knowing I had to be extremely careful, or else I could die. He smirked slightly, leaning closer to examine me.
“Quite interesting. Your mind is… fractionated. Split into multiple parts. On one side, pure fear. You’re wondering how I can peer into your mind. On the other… how strange. Anger, and contempt.” I desperately tried not to think about my condition, which obviously failed, Voldemort’s smirk turning into a sneer.
“Ah, I see. You can feel my emotions, is that it? I suppose that may occur, given the rumors I’ve heard of your encounter with the dementor. How interesting, indeed.” I whimpered involuntarily, and he tilted his head slightly, amused.
“How fortuitous a day. I am revived, brought back from utter annihilation, to a gift of my fated enemy and a miracle.” He turned to Harry, who had been struggling as hard as he could. Voldemort waved his wand, and I floated away, over to where Peter and the other Death Eaters stood, watching nervously. As I drew to a stop, Harry and Voldemort spoke quietly, the fear in Harry as clear as the glee in Voldemort. I tried to escape the curse, but failed, watching as Voldemort finished saying whatever he was saying to Harry.
“We shall have a wizard’s duel. Then, once I have emerged victorious, I shall examine Miss Ollivander much closer. Knott?” One of the Death Eaters beside me drew his wand, and jabbed it at me, and I felt my head roll back as I was knocked unconscious.
“Ennervate.” I coughed violently, coming to, and felt something heavy shackled to my ankles. Opening my eyes, I took in my surroundings, a damp, dark room which reminded me too much of the room I’d discovered Harvey in, Voldemort standing beside me, flanked by Death Eaters. He was still angry, though at something else, and he clasped his hands behind his back once he’d seen that I was awake.
“Perhaps you can feel my anger? If you are curious, I am angry that my duel was interrupted by Harry Potter’s escape, through a very clumsily executed Disapparition. Admirable attempt, and he has not perished, to my knowledge. But, that is not important for you, and neither here nor there.” Curiosity rose in him, and he stepped closer.
“What is important is your… gift. No one in recorded history has survived a Dementor’s Kiss, let alone killed one, and here you sit.” He moved swiftly, closing the distance between us and pressing a fingertip to my forehead. A blinding pain struck me, and, unbidden, the memory of the train was brought to the forefront of my mind. I assumed he’d done it, though I wasn’t well-versed on Legilimency to know with certainty, and after reliving it a few times, he withdrew his finger, tutting.
“Hm. A disappointing lack of information, I am afraid. I am curious, though…” He turned to one of the Death Eaters.
“Bring it in.” They turned, and exited through a solid metal door, returning moments later, fear fogging their emotions. A chill swept into the room, and I backpedalled frantically as a dementor silently glided into the room, back hitting the wall as it drew a wheezing, rattling breath. Voldemort smiled humorlessly.
“Your kin, as it were. Quite far from Azkaban, but with good reason.” He reached into his robes, and withdrew a small vial filled with a clear liquid.
“This is Veritaserum, the strongest truth potion in the world. I’m sure you understand the need for honesty.” He moved forward again, and waved his wand, wrenching my mouth open and pouring the contents of the vial down my throat. It was tasteless, and slightly slimy, and I coughed several times. Once I had recovered somewhat, he continued.
“Now. Tell me, can you detect the emotions of your kin?” I tried desperately to resist the potion, but shook my head, mouth moving of it’s own accord.
“No. It’s like an… absence of feeling.” He nodded.
“As I suspected. Can you communicate with it?” My eyes flicked over to the dementor, which was floating beside him, slightly hunched over in the low ceiling, and shuddered as I felt an entirely alien mind, speaking in incomprehensible gibberish.
“Y-Yes. I can hear it’s mind, but its hard to understand.” He began to pace, thinking hard.
“We are in uncharted territory, as I’m sure you know. Even my… extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts falls short in explaining your gift, or even how you came to acquire it. Has anyone mentioned any theories to you?” I managed to keep my jaw clamped shut for a split-second, but was unable to stop myself from speaking yet again.
“Headmaster Dumbledore theorized that a dementor draws the soul of it’s victim out by tethering it’s own life-force to the soul, and by killing the dementor during that process, part of it’s soul was bound to mine.” He stopped pacing suddenly, and I flinched as the dementor’s mind flooded into mine, the gibberish becoming understandable for just one word: Yes. Voldemort, reading my mind, smiled.
“I see. The dementor confirms your theory, then. I have many experiments I wish to conduct, Miss Ollivander. Indeed, I believe that, in time, you may come to be grateful to me for the results.”
Chapter 19: Summer
Chapter Text
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of torture. Voldemort made me relieve the memory of the train countless times, searching for any information, leaving me writhing in agony. After the first session, when he returned it was alone, accompanied only by the dementor. He performed various spells, some simple, while others required intense rituals involving potions, or poisons that would leave me near the brink of death. He used the Draught of Living Death several times, waiting until it put me into a deep fugue state before giving me the antidote. Throughout all of the experiments, I could feel him in my mind, carefully tinkering with the deepest parts of my subconscious, though I wasn’t sure what he was trying to do. I was starved, unable to sleep, and barely alive, having lost count of how long I’d spent in the dungeon, when he returned once more, this time accompanied by a Death Eater, leading a hooded figure before them. At my weak expression of confusion, he smiled.
“A test, today. Worry not, there will be no pain. Unless this does not work as I intend for it to.” He motioned, and the Death Eater shoved the hooded person forward, forcing them to kneel in front of me.
“This is a Mudblood I acquired specifically for this purpose.” The Death Eater removed the hood, revealing a middle-aged man, who looked around wildly, fear nearly overwhelming me as he met my eyes.
“Through my communication with the dementors, both my colleague here and at Azkaban, I have attempted to draw out, or strengthen, the part of your spirit that is borne from the dementor you killed. If my work was a success, we shall see definitive proof.” He walked closer, flicking his wand, and I was forced closer to the Muggle, who, despite the terror he was feeling, felt a tinge of sympathy for me.
“Kiss him.” I looked up at Voldemort, confused, and he scowled.
“If my theory is correct, and the part of your spirit that is a dementor is stronger, you will be able to administer a Dementor’s Kiss. Kiss him, or you will be punished.” I shivered, looking away, and met the eyes of the Muggle. Through his fear, he nodded slightly, obviously not fully realizing what would happen if I actually gave him a Kiss. Knowing I had no other option, and partially motivated by any chance to get food (Voldemort withheld meals from me when I didn’t cooperate, and I’d been without food for several days), I slowly leaned forward, focusing on the Muggle’s lips as I felt anticipation spiking from Voldemort. After the briefest pause, I pressed my lips against the Muggle’s, and felt a strange pulling sensation come from my core, though neither of us moved. After a moment, there was a feeling of release, and I felt something slipping from the Muggle, reacting to the tugging sensation in my chest, and felt whatever it was slip from him into me. Once the process was complete, he fell back, catatonic, and I felt a rush of energy as my hunger vanished, dim torchlight seeming to become brighter, details in my vision becoming clearer, and sharper. Joy radiated from Voldemort, and I let out a shocked sigh as I realized what had happened.
“It… worked.” I scooted back, disgusted, as he crowed with excitement.
“I have pushed the boundaries of magic once more. Plumbed the depths of possibility, and in that regard have created the ultimate monster. A hybrid of dementor and human.” He viewed me appraisingly, still giddy.
“Speak.” My lips were cracked and dry, but seeing no choice, I spoke what I was feeling.
“M-More.” He grinned wickedly.
“And you shall have more. One more, to be precise, as I cannot have you dying before you are of use to me.” He clicked his fingers, and the Death Eater left, presumably to retrieve another Muggle. Voldemort drew closer, though he kept a bit of distance, which I assumed was on the off-chance I tried to administer a Kiss to him (yuck).
“You are complete. The ultimate weapon. You will walk among wizard and Mudblood alike as a god, able to kill with just a touch. I wonder, though; can you feed from emotions, as your kin do?” I had been wondering the same thing, and could almost see a small tendril coming from Voldemort’s chest and entering mine. It was like I was taking a sip of water, not enough to fully quench thirst but enough to continue, and I nodded slowly as the Death Eater returned with another Muggle.
“Good. Now, enjoy your meal.” He chuckled, and the Death Eater forced the Muggle down to my level. I had been trying very hard to shield my thoughts from him, hiding what I was really thinking under a veil of hunger (I also theorized that, since my mind was closer to a dementor’s now it was slightly more difficult for him to pin down my thoughts), and I quickly administered another Kiss, disgusted at myself but too focused on my plan. As energy flowed through me, I drew back, and gasped, eyes rolling into the back of my head as I used the influx of strength to break the shackles with wandless magic. I then, very dangerously, Apparated, Splinching myself as I appeared in the room directly above the dungeon, which I’d seen my wand in using my magic eye. I snatched it off of the table it sat on, and dashed at a window, smashing through it and falling to the wet grass below, cutting my arms in the process. I felt Voldemort’s surprise turn to anger, and before he could catch me I Disapparated, appearing in front of Grimmauld Place and hurrying to the door. I crashed through, seeing a group of people in the basem*nt stand at the sudden noise, and promptly fell to the ground, the energy drain from using so much high-level magic compounded by the loss of all ten of my fingernails from Splinching. A thunder of footsteps approached me, and I weakly sobbed as Emily rushed to my side. The recounting of what had taken place in the dungeon took several hours, during which time my mums had to leave the room, too horrified by what Voldemort had done to me. When I finished, Sirius rose, retrieving a bottle of brandy and pouring himself a healthy glass. Remus was watching me, pity clear on his face as well as in his mind.
“I am truly sorry that you had to endure that. When Harry escaped, he told us what he knew, but we had no idea where to start looking, even with the network of people in the resistance. There will be a day of judgement for You-Know-Who, you have my word.” I drew the blanket that had been draped around me a little tighter, and looked down at the ground.
“I… It may sound strange, but I can see myself feeding on all of your emotions. It’s like a little string of thread coming from you and going to me. I hate it.” Tears welled up in my eyes, and Remus leaned forward, probably to hug me, but I jerked away.
“Stop! Don’t touch me. What if I accidentally take your soul? Who knows what all he did, maybe if you touch me at all it’ll kill you.” He paused, and I blinked away the tears as best as I could.
“Maybe that was his plan. Turn me into a weapon by making me kill everyone I touch. I can’t control it, right? What if it activates or whatever when I’m hugging someone?” I stood shakily, the room feeling like it was growing smaller, and moved away from where everyone was sitting. Lily looked like she wanted to hug me, while Remus and Tonks both seemed unsure of what to do. Sirius, on the other hand, took a large sip from his glass, and, after a moment of thought, held the bottle out to me. I took it, being careful not to touch my skin to his, and took several gulps, the burning sensation making me tear up again.
“Easy, there.” I rolled my eyes, and handed the bottle back.
“I think it’s warranted after the day I’ve had.” Remus sighed.
“You may think so.” A very uncomfortable silence settled over the room, and I cleared my throat quietly.
“Er, I’m going to go and take a bath.” No one said anything, and I left the room, quickly walking up to the top-floor bathroom. Almost out of habit, I peeked through the floor, but quickly looked away, as I wasn’t in the mood to know what they were up to.
My summer after my daring escape wasn’t great. I got into the habit of avoiding being too close to people, keeping at least a foot of space at all times, which made my birthday very awkward with my mums. Since Voldemort had messed with whatever he’d messed with, I didn’t need to eat regular food, instead being sustained by the presence of people, which was as disconcerting and disgusting as it sounds. When there weren’t many people in the house (for example, if people were gone for work or errands) and I got hungry, I would walk down to the nearest shopping center and read the paper there. I couldn’t stay long, since I was still afraid that the Death Eaters would be looking for me, and one day, as I was re-entering Grimmauld Place, Sirius was waiting in the doorway.
“Got a letter.” I frowned.
“Thanks. Wasn’t expecting one.” He shrugged, sorting through the rest of the mail, and I picked up the thick, wax-sealed envelope from the table in the hall.
My Esteemed Nemesis,
I do hope this letter reaches you well. As you know, our sides have been back-and-forth for some time now, and I simply wished to wish you luck in this next year.
D. Malfoy
This was extremely confusing, as I had no idea why he’d want to write to me, but as I inspected the rather large piece of paper for so short a note, I saw a tiny line of writing at the bottom of the page, so small I had to squint to even read it.
Revelare nuntium.
I assumed it was a spell, ‘revelare nuntium’ meaning ‘reveal message’, and I drew my wand, tapping the paper with it and casting the spell. After a moment, the two-sentence message vanished, and several blocks of text appeared, filling the page entirely. I smirked, and sat in the lounge to read what he’d sent me.
Siobhan,
I’m not sure how much you know, but you were being held at Malfoy Manor. Through our scuffles in the castle I’ve come to realize that there is a much bigger enemy in the game, one that encompasses all of Britain, not just Hogwarts. I am truly sorry for what the Dark Lord has put you through. Events are in motion that will turn things for the worse, especially in the case of the Allies. I’m not privy to all of the Death Eaters’ meetings, but know this: Cuffe is working with You-Know-Who. The articles he published were just the beginning.
If I were you, I’d be wondering if I could trust this letter, if you even opened it at all. I’ve said before that my place as leader of the Antis is out of status only, and after much consideration the same is true of the Death Eaters. By being so close to the Dark Lord, I’ve heard bits and pieces of plans, information that could be vital to your side’s survival. Forces are already moving within the Ministry. If you have someone you can trust, preferably one without the Trace, they need to investigate Laboratory G within the Department of Mysteries. I’m sorry that I can’t tell you more, but that’s all I know.
Stay safe,
Draco
Chapter 20: The Ministry Plot
Chapter Text
The validity of Draco’s letter was heavily debated at several resistance meetings, during which the sides seemed evenly split. A few people, such as Augusta and Kingsley, argued that any lead was a good lead, and Kingsley could use his position at the Ministry to organize a mission. The other side, spearheaded by Madam Hooch and a witch from Edinburgh, argued that this obviously had to be a trap, the letter being sent to set up an ambush for whoever took the bait. I would’ve been more than happy to stay at Grimmauld Place and continue debating, but as the start of term drew near, I was packed away to Hogwarts. The station was much less tense this year, but there was a general feeling of unease on both sides. After explaining my new situation to the others, I relayed the contents of Draco’s letter, and the subsequent attrition of the resistance to make a decision. Ron, of course, was very vocal.
“Look, Siobhan, if you trust Draco—and I admit he’s honored his word in the past—then it should be no problem for them to poke around the Department of Mysteries. I don’t see why this is such an issue.” I shrugged, and Jameson spoke quietly.
“Think about it, Ron. Draco is the son of Death Eaters, currently housing You-Know-Who himself. Anything he says will seem awfully suspicious, even if he’s telling the truth.” He shrugged, conceding the point, and Hermione spoke next.
“We’ve already known that we can’t trust the Ministry, but finding out that You-Know-Who is working with Barnabas Cuffe puts a worse spin on it, to me. Especially what Draco said about ‘forces moving within the Ministry.’ What is this ‘Laboratory G’ that he mentioned?” None of us knew, obviously, but a strange look crossed Jameson’s face, accompanied by a ‘problem-solving’ emotion.
“Before I say what I’m thinking, I fully understand that it is going to sound totally insane.” That got everyone’s attention, and after a moment he continued.
“What if we broke into Laboratory G? Figured out what Draco meant ourselves.” I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, letting him continue.
“I mean, we’re already at odds with the Ministry. It’s my last year, so if it really came down to it I could go alone, and if this is as bad as Draco says, then it could affect us after Hogwarts, as well.” I looked out of the cabin window for a moment, then stood.
“Need to stretch my legs.” The conversation continued as I left, and I made my way down to no-man’s-land, exchanging a few words with people I passed on the way. As I’d expected, I found Draco, sitting in an empty cabin, alone.
“Convenient meeting place.” He nodded stiffly, and I scanned the cabin with my eye, not seeing anyone.
“How was your summer?” I shrugged, and sat across from him.
“Aside from the obvious? Not terrible. Being unable to touch anyone is a bit of a downer, though. Got your letter.” Curiosity flashed across his mind, and I nodded.
“Interesting read. Sadly, the… proper people to notify aren’t as trusting of you as I am.” He grimaced, and nodded.
“I figured as much.” I hesitated on whether or not to tell him about Jameson’s idea, but decided to go ahead.
“A few of ours are considering paying that spot a visit, actually. Those of us on the train, that is.” Surprise flashed through, and he looked up at me.
“Is that so?” I nodded, and he looked back down, deep in thought. We were both silent for a few minutes, tension filling the air as I waited for his response. Finally, he spoke, slowly working out what was going on in his head.
“I suppose… I could be persuaded to help you.” I leaned back, watching him curiously.
“You’d need an inside man, someone who would know whether or not the Dark Lord was laying a trap. You’d also need a bit of money, for whatever supplies you’d need to get into the most secure area in all of Britain. Except for Gringotts, maybe.” My eyebrows rose.
“Are you insinuating that the Ollivander family isn’t affluent enough for this purpose?” he rolled his eyes.
“You know what I mean. More money is better. Plus, my family probably has more knowledge of the Dark Arts than yours. No offense, of course.” It was my turn to think in silence, weighing options and considering plans, but I ultimately nodded.
“That works for me. There’s only one thing that needs to be addressed before that plan can go into action.” At his curious face, I continued gravely.
“Regardless of what is going on outside the castle, the conflict between the Allies and Antis needs to stop. We’ll need as much brainpower as possible behind this, which means we need all four houses working together.” His face blanched, and a tinge of hopelessness filtered through his mind.
“A very Herculean task, as it were.” I nodded, leaning forward.
“Yes, but it has to happen. Some of those with Death Eater parents may be harder to convince, but if we can work together, we can find out what Laboratory G is, and save a lot of lives in the process.” He sighed.
“Fine. I’ll make a speech to my side tonight, after the feast. Even if I have to force them to take Unbreakable Vows, I’ll make it happen.” Satisfied, I stood, smoothing the front of my robes.
“Until next time.” He bowed his head, and I left, running into the trolley witch halfway through no-man’s-land. With her permission, I tested the trolley, happy to inform her that it was, for once, tamper-free.
There was a distinct tension at the castle, one not connected to the strife between the Allies and the Antis, that everyone could feel as we made our journey from the train to the Great Hall. I chose my seat carefully, a foot of space on either side of me (word spread quickly through the rest of the Allies about my condition), and watched with my magic eye as Draco spoke quietly with a few others at his table.
“ In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world’s best magic school
And pass along their learning.
“Together we will build and teach!”
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffndor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Huffepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, “We’ll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest.”
Said Ravenclaw, “We’ll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest.”
Said Gryffindor, “We’ll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name,”
Said Hufflepujf, “I’ll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same.”
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A House in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the Houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I’m for,
But this year I’ll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it’s wrong,
Though I must fulfil my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we’ll crumble from within.
I have told you, I have warned you. . . .
Let the Sorting now begin.”
My eyebrows lifted slightly, and I shared a look with Jameson.
“And the award for most unexpected ally goes to… the Sorting Hat?” He rolled his eyes, and we both looked up at the staff table as a voice that was decidedly not Dumbledore’s began to speak.
“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.” I frowned, feeling that something was up, but not sure what, and saw someone next to me set a note down on the space between us. I discreetly opened it, revealing a shortlist of this woman, ‘Dolores Umbridge’s work. She was a Ministry plant, which was not a good sign, and the list held several different proposed laws and policies of hers, all of which invariably targeted magical creatures, Muggle-borns, or queer magic users in a negative way.
“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation . . .” A pit opened up in my stomach, and my look of fear was shared with Jameson, who’d been passed a note I assumed was similar to mine. A quiet wave of whispers was filling the Great Hall, which Umbridge ignored, steamrolling through her conclusion. “. . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.” I looked backwards, through my head, and saw Draco staring at me intently. I held a hand down, by my side, and held up a thumbs-up, signalling to him that I was looking. Once he saw that, he mouthed the words This isn’t good, is it? I shook my head slightly, and he sighed, taking a gulp from his goblet. I returned my attention to Jameson, and sighed.
“Think she knows about everything that’s been going on here?” He shrugged noncommittally.
“Dunno. I’d assume not, since her speech was pretty bureaucratic. We’ll need to get into contact with the rest of the staff at some point to figure out what to do. “
Word spread quickly of peace talks between the Antis and Allies, but there was still a distinct separation between the two groups in the Great Hall and the rest of the school. A few professors approached me after classes or in the halls to let me know that I had their support, and a flurry of notes between sides set up an initial meeting the first weekend back. It was in the old clubroom, which had been fixed up as a secure location, since we’d cleared everything out in the exodus. It felt surreal to see Draco, flanked by Crabbe, Goyle, and a few others seated across from myself and the others, especially due to how serious the topic was.
“So. You want to broker peace between us. How do you expect to reconcile our two sides? People will be quite bitter.” I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table.
“I’m not expecting the two sides to instantly become best friends. What we need is to come together, especially when we’re being confronted by external threats such as Umbridge.” I hoped he understood that I was really talking about the Death Eaters, Umbridge being a good way to get my point across. He nodded.
“At a point, I agree. People are tired of conflict. Many of us have friends on your side.” I cleared my throat quietly.
“The same goes for us. The question is, how can either side trust the other, even with peace agreed upon?” He shrugged.
“I’d remove the ban on Allies entering Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms, as a start. Let people return to their dormitories in peace.” This was a good step, and I nodded in agreement.
“I’ll convince Fred and George to lessen up on the pranks. If we’re going to work together against Umbridge, infighting has to be minimal. An enemy of my enemy is a friend, so to say.” He smiled thinly.
“Indeed it is. This is not to say our sides are completely at peace, but for the time being, this situation should take precedence. With the skillsets of each of our groups, making sure Umbridge doesn’t gain too much power should be trivial.” He held out his hand, and after a moment, I nodded to Jameson, who shook for me.
“I’m sure you understand why I can’t shake your hand, but the feeling is there.” After a few more logistical questions, the meeting was adjourned, and the Antis left first, leaving the Allies in the clubroom. Once they had all filtered out, we re-entered the Ravenclaw common room, Jameson and I heading to the balcony while the others who’d been present at the meeting explained what had happened. We were halfway through a pipe when Ron and Hermione joined us, explaining that the others would join momentarily.
“So. Now that that is out of the way, onto the bigger issue.” I blew a smoke ring, and sighed.
“Cracking the Department of Mysteries.” He nodded, and Hermione withdrew a sheaf of parchment from her bag.
“Here. I copied the building plans for the Ministry of Magic.” My eyebrows rose as I looked over the incredibly detailed schematics.
“How’d you get these?” She shrugged.
“Same way I would in the Muggle world. Governments keep public records of almost anything. There’s a problem, though.” She pointed at a large blank spot.
“The plans for the Department of Mysteries are classified, naturally. There’s really no telling from the building plans what is in that blank spot. However,” She withdrew an ancient-looking tome, and set it on top of the parchment.
“The Department of Mysteries is rumored to have existed before the Ministry of Magic, and in 1837, Minister of Magic Radolphus Lestrange attempted to shut it down. There was one unsuccessful raid performed, and in the preparation for it they discussed some of the magical protections that are on that section of the Ministry. Incredibly advanced magic, and it’s most likely been reinforced, but it gives us a starting point.” I nodded, peering at the book as she continued.
“Sneaking in, which is what I assume the plan is, will be incredibly difficult. There are anti-transformation charms, Polyjuice detectors, unauthorized access jinxes, that sort of thing.” Jameson frowned.
“This is getting more and more complicated.” She held up a finger.
“But, the Ministry released a docket of expenditures last week. In it, they listed a ‘remodeling ceremony’ for an unnamed Department. Care to guess which one?” I handed the pipe to Jameson.
“Bingo. When is this remodeling ceremony supposed to take place?” She checked a few notes.
“Over Winter Break.” I cracked a grin.
“Even better. That’s our window, then. We sneak into the Ministry during the ceremony, find out what’s going on in Laboratory G, and get out before anyone notices.” Ron raised a hand.
“I feel like you’re oversimplifying it a little. Sure, there’s an opportunity, but we still need to get into the Department of Mysteries without being detected.” A voice I wasn’t expecting spoke from the doorway.
“Lucky that it just so happens you have an ally who’s father has access to the Department of Mysteries.” I turned in my seat, surprised to see Draco.
“Surprised they let you in.” He shrugged, and leaned against the balcony.
“People are eager for resolution. Now that we have a way to get into the ceremony, all that remains is getting away from everyone and finding the Laboratory.” I nodded, but Ron didn’t seem as convinced.
“Are we sure we can trust him? He’s still the leader of the Antis.” I pursed my lips, thinking.
“Yes. I trust him. We’ve been working together to lessen tensions ever since… Well, ever since he came to power.” Draco nodded in thanks, and continued.
“I don’t know much of the layout of the Department of Mysteries, but I’ll do what I can to find out from father without arousing suspicion.” With that, he departed, leaving us to our own devices. Jameson handed the pipe back to me, and stood.
“I’ll start assembling a team. It’ll have to be very hush-hush.” I puffed the pipe, looking out over the balcony as he left as well, leaving Ron and Hermione. Hermione took the chair Jameson had been sitting in, and for the next few hours we poured over the information she’d gathered.
It was slow at first, but Allies began moving back into their dormitories. The Gryffindors went first, and after that went reasonably well (they weren’t welcomed with open arms, but there was an air of polite acceptance), the Slytherins began to return to their dormitories as well. I was glad it was going well, though the main reason was Umbridge’s presence in the castle. It was also nice to not have to spend time patching people up, but I did keep an eye out for any trouble, out of habit. We kept our heads down in Umbridge’s classes, even though I had plenty of issues with her, since the Ministry was so volatile none of us wanted to risk punishment, or worse, exposure. I was focused on staying under the radar, for the time being at least, until the heist was over, for better or for worse. Even though we all gave our best efforts to protect each other, she seemed able to hone in on Allies, handing out detentions for things such as a crooked tie, or heels that were too high. I caught a few for my piercings, and spent those nights cleaning the Great Hall, organizing the library, and one night, rearranging the Potions stockroom under Snape’s watchful eye. I had made it to the ingredients beginning with the letters K-L when he spoke from his desk.
“Miss Ollivander, may I have a word?” I set down the vial of Lionfish spines, and walked over to his desk.
“Yes, Professor?” He looked at the rows of ingredients I’d already organized, and indicated the chair in front of the desk.
“You may spend the rest of your time working on assignments, if you like.” I nodded in thanks, and sat, withdrawing a book from the Ravenclaw library. I’d covered a lot of ground over the past few years, reading in my free time, and was down to six shelves, the books getting more and more complex. The current book I was reading was a small, skinny book called Hypothetical Implications of Metaphysical Transfiguration, which discussed theories pertaining to psychological Transfiguration, since testing spells of that nature was strictly banned due to the potential for misuse. As I read, Snape graded essays, time passing slowly (I still had two hours left of detention). I withdrew a sheet of scrap parchment, and wrote out a few calculations (I found that as the magic I was studying became more complex, theories began to incorporate Arithmancy and calculus). I scratched out a few symbols, referencing the booklet, and looked up as Snape cleared his throat.
“May I ask what you are reading? I’ve not seen notes like that before.” I set the booklet down, and turned the parchment around so he could read it.
“Hypothetical Implications of Metaphysical Transfiguration. It takes concepts from physical Transfiguration and applies them to psychological Transfiguration. Magic like that is banned, but the theory is still interesting.” He nodded, perusing the notes I’d taken, mostly abstract formulas and garbled Latin.
“If I recall correctly, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had a penchant for such things. It is what made him a quite formidable Legilimens.” I shuddered involuntarily as the memories from Malfoy Manor’s basem*nt resurfaced, and smiled thinly.
“I see. Of course, since it’s forbidden, you don’t need to worry about me experimenting with spells or anything. I’m sure you know of the Ravenclaw library?” He nodded, sliding the parchment back to me.
“I infer from this that you were sorted into Linguistic?” I dipped my head, and he thought to himself for a moment, before sighing.
“Can you retrieve a list of ingredients for me, please?” I stood, and he wrote out a rather long list of ingredients, handing the sheet to me once he was done. The ingredients he needed were very complex, and rare, requiring me to enter his private supply closet (such things as Granian feathers, stewed Mandrake leaves, Moonseed, and Re’em Blood), and once I’d gotten the last few things, I sat back down. Before I could resume reading, he spoke quietly.
“These ingredients, if my calculations are correct, will allow you to pass through the wards around the Department of Mysteries.” My eyes widened, and I scrambled to figure out how he knew about our plans, stumbling through an excuse to buy time. He smiled thinly.
“As I’m sure you know, I have ties to the Death Eaters, and I also support your side of the Anti-Ally conflict. Draco spoke to me in private.” This calmed me somewhat, and I sighed.
“Thank you, professor. I understand that what we’re attempting is highly illegal, and I would appreciate it if you kept this between us.” He nodded, amused, and placed the ingredients onto a side table.
“I’ll have to test the potion, as it is my own creation. Some of these ingredients are extremely poisonous, as well. Do you know of anyone that could volunteer to test it?” I shrugged.
“I can. How much do you know about our plans?” He began to take notes, speaking as he did.
“A decent amount. I admit, I am curious about Laboratory G as well. I will attempt to use my connections to retrieve information as well, since I have access to more… unorthodox sources.” We spent the rest of detention silently working, him handing me a sheet with various notes and diagrams as I prepared to leave.
“Thank you, Professor.” He nodded, and I headed back to the common room, eager to tell the others about this development.
Chapter 21: Laboratory G and Uric the Oddball's Gravity-Switching Theorem
Chapter Text
The year passed both agonizingly slow and incredibly quick, and before I knew it, it was the night before we left for Winter Break. Everyone that was in on the heist was assembled in the side room we’d made the posters in, and I was thunderstruck when Snape arrived with Draco. The crew contained all of the leaders of the Allies, as well as Draco, Blaise Zabini, and Daphne Greengrass, the last two coming along as cover for us. I waited until everyone was settled, drinking or smoking, and lit the pipe, taking a puff and tapping my wand on the wall, drawing the diagrams that Snape had been able to procure.
“Alright, everyone. The ceremony takes place in three days’ time. Draco and his parents will be in attendance, which is our in. Blaise and Daphne will go with the team that is going to break into Laboratory G, which consists of myself, Hermione, Jameson, and Harry. Once inside, the six of us will figure out what Laboratory G is, and document whatever we can using Creevey’s camera, as well as steal any documents we can get our hands on. With the potion that Professor Snape has graciously invented for us, the six of us will be able to slip through the spells and defenses around the Department, but the effects only last for around an hour, so we’ll have to be quick. Any questions?” Harry raised a hand.
“How exactly are we getting in and out?” I smiled, and tapped the wall again, a series of complicated formulas appearing.
“Professor Snape has given us two doses of Polyjuice Potion, which, when combined with the Ward-Passing Potion, will allow Blaise and Daphne to disguise themselves as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. The rest of us will be Transfigured into smaller versions of ourselves, and hide in their pockets until we’re through the wards. Getting out is the exact same, but in reverse.” This time, Jameson raised his hand.
“What if we get caught?” My face darkened slightly.
“We fight. The Department of Mysteries probably isn’t keen on taking prisoners.” This sobered the room up, and I blew a smoke ring as I waited for more questions. When none came, I sat.
“Alright. We’ll meet at the Ministry, and go from there.” Snape stood, and moved to the front of the room.
“I would like to remind all of you that the penalties for even having Polyjuice Potion will result in time in Azkaban, let alone everything else that you will be attempting. As such, I acquired an additional potion at great personal cost.” He withdrew a tiny vial from his robes, and handed it to me.
“That is Felix Felicis, or, liquid luck. There is enough in that vial for around two hours of luck.” I thanked him, and Harry raised his hand again.
“I’m sorry, Professor, but if I may ask, why are you helping us?” He clasped his hands behind his back.
“Officially, I am not. But, if Laboratory G is as sinister as Draco and I speculate, the information that could be gathered may be vital.” I thanked him again, and after going back over the plan once more, we dispersed to pack for the trip to King’s Cross.
I fiddled with my wand, nervous, and watched as Daphne laced up a set of dress robes. We were in a restroom in the large foyer of the Ministry, Harry, Blaise, and Jameson in the men’s room. Hermione tapped her foot erratically, and I withdrew the vial of Felix Felicis from my pocket, unstoppering it as Daphne turned to face us.
“Ready?” I nodded, and without pausing, downed the vial. As it reached my stomach, my nerves faded away, replaced by a mild feeling of euphoria and confidence.
“Alright, let’s do this.” Daphne drew her wand, and carefully recited the spell I’d taught her, shrinking Hermione down to about an inch high. She carefully picked her up, and set her in the breast pocket of her robes before turning to me and casting the spell again. I felt a strange squeezing sensation, daphne getting taller and taller until I could barely see her face, and she gently grasped me by my clothes, lifting me up and depositing me in the pocket next to Hermione, who nodded nervously. Once we were securely hidden, Daphne exited the restroom, meeting up with Blaise, who nodded. They then walked over to where Draco stood, a bit separate from his parents, and I marveled at how massive everything looked, having to strain my eyes to see the ceiling above us. Once we were all set, the three of them headed towards the small crowd of people assembled, Minister Fudge among them. Hermione and I ducked down, not wanting to risk anything, and waited carefully, muffled conversations filtering into the pocket. We kept deathly quiet, eventually hearing the conversations quiet as Daphne and Blaise presumably headed into the elevator. I felt Daphne move, and peeked my head out in time to see both her and Blaise down their Polyjuice Potions, wincing as their skin began to bubble. The elevator ride down to the Department of Mysteries was long enough for the effects of the potion to take effect, and they stepped out of the elevator as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, heading quickly and purposefully towards a door at the end of a black marble hallway. This door was the only way in or out of the Department, and was the first hurdle we needed to get past. I hoped that Snape’s potion would work, breathing a sigh of relief as Blaise opened the door without issue, the two of them entering a circular room lined with doors. This is where the Felix Felicis came in handy, as I felt drawn to a plain, white door, pointing it out to Daphne. Taking a moment to steel herself for whatever was on the other side, she opened the door, stepping through into a brightly lit, white hallway. Once we were sure we were alone, Daphne removed Hermione and I from her pocket, growing us back to our normal sizes as Blaise did the same for Harry and Jameson. I hefted Creevey’s camera, and took a picture of the hallway. I was not planning on being selective on what I photographed, and we slowly made our way to the first door on our left, wands out. I looked through the door with my eye, seeing an empty office, and entered, Hermione quickly rummaging through the desk before shaking her head. I took another photo of the room, and we returned to the hallway, moving to the first door on the right. It was another office, but this one had a few sheets of parchment detailing financial expenditures, which I gladly took a picture of. There were three more doors, one more on each side of the hallway and one at the end, and we made quick progress through the next two, since they were also offices. I felt a sense of impending dread coming from the other side of the door at the end of the hallway, but couldn’t see through it, so we pushed forward, ready to duel any threats on the other side. The door swung open to reveal a massive chamber, filled with cauldrons, tables, and to my horror, several cages, some filled with more than ten people, while others only contained one or two, all of them strapped down to medical examination tables. Some of them had tubes running from large cauldrons into their arms, labelled by different colored threads.
“What…” We descended a staircase that had been built into the side of the wall, until we were level with the cages, snapping photos the entire time. I handed the camera to Hermione, who went to photograph the parchment on the table, and walked up to one of the cages, which held a tall woman with long red hair. As I drew closer, I read the label on the cauldron, letting out a small gasp.
“Oh my god, they’re trying to change them.” The label showed various potions, and hormones, in this woman’s case testosterone, and I glanced at her face, her eyes blinking rapidly as she stared at me, trying to get my attention. I sensed waves of fear, and drew my wand, pulling the door of the cage open. I quickly transfigured my sweater into a pair of long gloves, and spoke to the woman as I carefully examined the tubes leading to her arm.
“I’m Siobhan Ollivander. I can’t touch you, or anyone, so I’m going to be very careful, but I’m going to get you out of here, okay?” She blinked once, which I took to mean yes, and began disconnecting the tubes, letting them spill onto the ground. Once all of them were disconnected, I undid her restraints, starting with the gag. She rasped out thanks as I undid the rest of them, helping her to her feet and handing her a lab coat that had been hanging on a hook next to the cauldron.
“Are you alright?” She nodded weakly, and I noticed that the others had been freeing other people as well, a group of nervous people gathering at the front of the room. Hermione was still taking pictures of various documents, and I moved to the next cage, the woman coming with me.
“I’m Amelia. How do you even know about this place?” I shrugged, helping a short man to his feet.
“Got a tip from a friend in a low place. We didn’t know what was in here, just that something bad was happening. Guess we were right.” She shivered as the man thanked me profusely.
“Your friend was right. We’re all Ministry employees. One day they rounded us all up, from different departments.” I met up with Jameson as he freed the last person, joining with the rest of the group near the stairs. I took the camera back from Hermione, and sighed.
“Alright. I’m so sorry you all had to endure that, but you’re free now.” Harry spoke up, in the process of bandaging a cut on an older woman’s arm.
“How are we all going to make it back out?” I hadn’t thought of that, and frowned.
“Uh…” After a moment of thought, I realized our only option.
“I may have an idea, but you won’t like it.” I moved to the front of the group, and smiled reassuringly.
“Theoretically, since I’m under the effects of the Ward-Passing Potion, I can move through the wards on this place in any direction, right?” They nodded, confused, while Hermione’s brow furrowed.
“If I make sure no one will touch my skin, I can use the luck from the Felix Felicis to turn myself into a Portkey, and take everyone to the headquarters.” By this I was referring to Grimmauld Place, but the importance of it’s secrecy kept me from mentioning it aloud. Harry and Jameson’s jaws dropped, while Hermione scowled.
“There’s no way to know if you could even turn yourself into a Portkey, let alone transport over thirty people. You could be killed!” I shrugged, tapping the camera.
“This information can’t be supressed. Who knows what could happen if this goes unchecked?” She didn’t budge, and I glared at her.
“I am more than willing to die to make sure that you all get out alive.” Not stopping to let her respond, I pressed my wand to my chest.
“Portus.” A searing wave of pain struck me, but quickly abated, and I made sure as much of my skin was covered as possible, people touching any part of my clothes they could, which was a strange experience, but after a few seconds of tense waiting, my vision went black, and I could feel everyone almost folding into me, at the same time vividly feeling as though I’d been turned inside out. This persisted until my vision cleared, revealing the street outside of Grimmauld Place. I dashed through the crowd, projectile vomiting into a trash can, body both burning hot and freezing cold at the same time. Everything was sore, and the dim streetlights were bright enough to make me wince. Once I was able to get my stomach under control, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and wiped my mouth, turning to see Amelia.
“One of your friends went to get an adult. Are you alright?” I nodded queasily.
“It’s almost as if turning yourself into a Portkey is dangerous.” Just then, as I subconsciously made sure I was in one piece, I realized that something was distinctly different about my body. Amelia, after a moment, gasped in surprise, and I started to hear more surprised outbursts from the group. Harry exited Grimmauld Place, followed by Sirius, who quickly began moving people inside, but I was too busy by the incredible revelation I’d just had, dashing inside and finding a piece of parchment, scribbling notes out rapidly, Hermione leaning over my shoulder, slightly confused.
“What are you doing?” I set down the quill, and turned, joy plain on my face.
“Something happened during the transportation. Can I think through it out loud?” She nodded, and I began to pace.
“Portkeys are a form of Transfiguration, essentially taking every single atom of the people in contact with it and Vanishing it before Un-Vanishing it at the destination. With a sentient being such as myself being a Portkey, those atoms were influenced by my mind, or soul, and when everything was reassembled at the destination, the bodies reflected the souls. Meaning, I’m now biologically female, and I suspect the other people like me in the group are their genders as well.” She was stunned, and I giddily waved the parchment.
“Look at the calculations. People have been theorizing about souls and their connection to magic for centuries. This is just hard evidence.” She took the parchment from me, and read it carefully as I headed off to find the other members of the group. I found Jameson sitting with Harry in the basem*nt, smoking, and I sat with them, relaying what had happened as a result of the Portkey spell. They were both interested, Jameson moreso than Harry, since he was a Ravenclaw. Once that had been settled, I was going to mention looking over some of the documents we’d pulled from the Department of Mysteries when Sirius tapped my shoulder.
“Siobhan, we need to talk.” I frowned, and stood, handing Jameson’s pipe back to him and following Sirius. He led me to the upstairs lounge, where Marlene, Shacklebolt, and Augusta were waiting. Kingsley spoke first, smiling genially.
“How nice to see you, Siobhan! In one piece, that is.” I smiled thinly.
“Thank you, sir, and we’ve uncovered some very important information, as well.” I handed him the stack of photos, which he perused while I took a puff of Marlene’s pipe, which had a nice citrus flavor. Kingsley’s face darkened with each picture, until he reached the bottom and handed the stack to Augusta, his chin sinking to his chest. It didn’t take Augusta long to quickly hand the photos to Marlene, who took even less time. Kingsley spoke as I placed the photos back into my pocket.
“That is certainly quite the discovery. To think, they were trying to do such terrible things…” I sighed.
“So, the Ministry obviously can’t be trusted. What’s our next move?” He picked at his collar nervously.
“I’d always assumed that at it’s core the Ministry was pure, but this is proof of the opposite. Frankly, I don’t know.” I arched an eyebrow, and shared a look with Augusta, who shrugged noncommittally. I scowled, and spoke.
“Fine. Here’s what we do: cut off all contact with allies. Only stick to those we can absolutely trust. Get as many Ravenclaws as you can here. Tell them we need a situation room.”
After several Expansion Charms were cast, and a stampede of Ravenclaw alumni moved through the house, I stood at the head of a large room, filled with people.
“What is about to be discussed will not leave this room. You will all be trained in basic Occlumency in order to protect your thoughts, but it falls to you to keep this a secret, even from your loved ones. The task at hand that requires a situation room spanning generations of Ravenclaws is not an easy one, but I have faith in all of you. Tonight, we will begin the process of staging a revolution.” Silence rippled through the room at my words, several people sharing nervous looks. I waved my wand, magnifying several of the photos I’d taken in the Department.
“The Ministry cannot be trusted to care for it’s people. It’s been corrupted by false narratives and hatred. There is only one way this can end.” I began to pace back and forth, head hanging.
“We need to stop them. For the sake of every single person, muggle or wizard, in Britain. Understand?” Scattered nods. I waved a hand.
“Organize yourselves however you like. Send me a messenger once you have an update.” I exited, and met up with Shacklebolt and the others in the lounge.
“Are you insane? You can’t just take control of this, you’re only fifteen!” I scowled at Kingsley, and stood, looking out of a window.
“We need someone in charge who doesn’t wait to see everything unfold before they make a decision. Even if you felt the same way as I do now, what I just did would’ve taken you weeks. We’re severely outnumbered, so we’ll have to be quick. Smart. Ruthless. Gather all of the regional leaders here.” I turned away from the window, glaring at Kingsley.
“And as for me being fifteen, Harry Potter had beaten You-Know-Who three times before he turned thirteen.” With that, I turned on my heel, and stormed out of the lounge, scowling and in desperate need of a cup of tea.
Not a single person had been expecting me to take control of the resistance like that, but after a quite lengthy meeting discussing what new information we had, it was agreed that, for the time being, I would be allowed to be in charge. I quickly set about organizing safehouses, search parties, and whatever else I could to prepare us for a revolution. Almost as if the Ministry could sense something changing, a national curfew was instituted due to ‘concerns of rogue dementor attacks.’ The trip back to Hogwarts was very grim, as a letter from Ron detailed the events of Dumbledore’s firing and Umbridge’s subsequent reign of terror as Headmistress. I very quickly reined in the situation at Hogwarts, not bothering to be flashy with my plans, instead quickly and devastatingly starting a prank war with her Inquisitorial Squad, which was formed from the remnants of a few Anti leaders. They grew more and more bloodthirsty as time passed, no longer having Draco to keep them calm, but were overwhelmed by our sheer numbers. This made it easier for me to monitor the situation in Britain, keeping true to my promise of efficiency and ruthlessness. Six Ministry outposts that were being used to gather information on magical heritage (among other things) were bombed in one weekend, and a brilliant Ministry plant had Charmed the tiles in the main entryway to flash rainbow colors. Fudge was beside himself, cracking down with an earlier curfew, as well as a well-funded investigation, but rumors began to surface considering his tenure as Minister. Obviously, whoever succeeded him would be a Death Eater, which meant that I needed to take advantage of his leniency while I could. Sadly, any hope at covert movement in the castle was destroyed when I received word that Dumbledore’s Army, Harry’s Defense club that had sprung up in the wake of Umbridge’s failure as a professor, had been discovered. I was already out of my seat, not bothering to say anything to McGonagall, and left class, hurrying through the castle until I arrived, slightly out of breath, at the door to her office. I listened intently, and burst in as I heard Umbridge cast the Cruciatus Curse.
“Wh-What is the meaning of this interruption?” I scowled, wand in my robes, and spied Harry, curled up on the floor in agony.
“Ah, it’s you. The rumored leader of Hogwarts.” Her sickly-sweet tone was laced with venom, and I noticed that several seventh-year Inquisitorial Squad members were eyeing me maliciously. I was very outnumbered, trying to think of a plan, when Umbridge crossed the line.
“Pathetic. One so talented with magic, from such a noble Pureblood family. Ruined by some silly ideology. I suppose you’re here to surrender?” My face darkened, and I strode forward purposefully, not caring about the consequences of what I was about to do. I gracefully wound through the Slytherins, who’d moved to stop me, gently touching each of them on the hand, or arm, focusing hard to keep myself from killing them. As I did, they fell, unconscious, and I was soon left with Umbridge, who, at the easy defeat of her lackeys, showed fear for the first time.
“You will not get away with this—this evil magic!” My face stayed the same, and I reached out, grabbing her by the back of the head.
“Maybe. But you won’t stop me.” With a sudden move, I drew her in, administering a Kiss, overwhelmed slightly by her flowery perfume. Her soul tasted disgusting, filled with evil, and once I was done I let go, Umbridge crumpling to the ground as I held down a retch. Turning to the others, who were watching in fear, I shrugged.
“Alright?” Hermione nodded shakily, and helped Harry up off of the ground.
“What… What do we do about them?” I waved a hand airily.
“Bollocks to them. What’s going on, Harry? What happened?” He coughed weakly, and spoke as Hermione helped him out of the office.
“Sirius—trouble—Ministry…” I frowned, stopping in my tracks.
“sh*t. sh*t, sh*t, sh*t.” Hermione frowned.
“What is it?” I shook my head, a plan already forming.
“I saw something on Umbridge’s desk. Get Harry to the Hospital Wing, eh? I’ll be right behind you.” After a brief pause, she nodded, and I left the group to their own devices, returning to the office. I dug through Umbridge’s drawers quickly, Inquisitorial Squad still out cold, and discovered a small bag of what I’d been looking for. I turned, withdrawing a handful, and threw it into the fire, shouting a location as I stepped in.
“Ministry of Magic!”
I appeared in a small gout of flame, sooty but wary, and ducked up against a wall as I spied several not-nice-looking people entering a lift. I heard a snippet of a familiar voice, Lucius Malfoy, as the doors shut.
“—time they reach the Hall of Prophecies, it’ll—” My mind was thrust back to the floor plans of the Department of Mysteries, which was where the Hall of Prophecies was located, and dashed out from cover, taking the next lift back down to the same department I’d recently broken into. Through some magic (I suspected a powerful Confundus Charm, but who knew with Death Eaters), the door let me pass, and I entered the room of doors as a weathered gray door swung shut. I closed my eyes, concentrating on what the door had looked like, room spinning around me, and opened my eyes, finding the correct door and easing it open. Inside was a vast room, ceiling so high it vanished into shadows, lined with shelves, all of which held small glass balls. They let off an eery glow, and I followed the hushed conversation as stealthily as I could, seeing that they’d turned down an aisle. The conversation ceased, and I spied several people either Disillusioned or under Invisibility cloaks. I drew my wand, not sure what to do, before a brilliant idea struck me. They were obviously laying a trap for Harry (how I hadn’t a clue), so they must be looking for his prophecy, if there was one. I glanced at a shelf next to me, steeling myself, and spied a strange sight: on the shelf, a label read my name. Above it sat four balls, orbiting each other. I shook myself, and, no longer distracted, stepped into the aisle.
“I know you all are there. No point in hiding. Potter wasn’t stupid enough to come himself.” From the darkness, the oiled and prideful voice of Lucius Malfoy spoke.
“Ollivander. Proud wandmakers turned revolutionaries.” I shrugged.
“Times change. Care to step out? I can see you with my eye that one of your… housemates gifted me with, in a roundabout way. I’d much rather see you face-to-face.” Some movement among them, and Lucius stepped into the light, a thin, deranged-looking woman at his shoulder, grinning wickedly.
“Buying time? Typical of Potter and his.” I shook my head calmly, internally wondering if my plan would work.
“Not so. I’m the only one. Possibly the worst dueller in Hogwarts, here to stop you all on my lonesome.” The woman cackled, throwing her curly black hair back with her head.
“Brave, this one is!” Lucius scowled.
“And, might I ask, how do you expect to stop us?” I showed him my wand.
“Ah, I see. It would be a shame if you were to break your prophecy. All four, that is. How curious.” I grew tired of him, and twisted my hand clockwise, gently pushing my wand out, incredibly slowly. He scoffed.
“The worst dueller appears to be a fitting title.” As he leisurely drew his wand, I pulled my hand back quickly, an almost imperceptible ripple occurring in the air. Finally, as he raised his wand, I dragged mine to the left, finishing the homemade spell. A gentle rumble shook the room, and he paused. The woman next to him laughed again.
“Can’t even cast a spell!” I smiled thinly, and felt my hair begin to be blown to the left by an imaginary wind, glass balls beginning to rock in their displays.
“You sure?” as gently as I’d cast the spell, it took effect, starting with the balls at the top of the shelves. They were pulled to the left, as the Death Eaters lost their balance, and I sighed.
“In the last moments you have where you’re standing, I’d kindly ask you not to underestimate a Ravenclaw. Especially a Linguistic.” Confusion crossed their faces, and I moved quickly, Summoning Harry’s prophecy from it’s spot as the gravity of the room rotated, everything essentially falling down to the left. One by one, the Death Eaters slipped, some sliding off while others managed to grasp onto the edges of shelves. As the spell affected me, I stepped lightly onto the metal shelf to my left, standing up to see Malfoy, struggling to his feet a ways down the shelf. I hefted the ball in my hand, and raised an eyebrow.
“Sure you want to do this? Another one of those spells and I could make the ceiling the new floor. Not sure you’d be in for a happy landing on that one.” He scowled, and swiped his wand at me, unsteady on the shelf. I was smaller and much nimbler than him, so I gracefully stepped out of the way, sound of prophecies smashing far below us. I cast another wordless spell, the shelf we were on beginning to sway violently, almost throwing him off. The spell ended abruptly as a Killing Curse ruffled my hair, and I looked down to see the woman, wand up, face torn with confusion and anger. Seeing her face, Lucius spoke loudly.
“Don’t forget, Bella. Your devotion.” After a moment, her face cleared, replaced fully by anger. Sensing I needed to make a quick exit, I turned, and without much hesitation jumped off of the shelf, a spell catching my back as I did. Lines of fire, reminiscent of my second year, erupted over my body, but I kept focus, shelves whipping past me until I spied the door, approaching rapidly. I carefully aimed my wand, and shouted a destruction spell at the shelf below me.
“Bombarda!” The resulting shockwave ended the Gravity-Switching Spell, and blasted me sideways, catapaulting me through the door and back into the circular room. My momentum carried me through another door, which opened to a room filled with several fishtanks. I skidded a few feet, then stopped, out of breath, panting on the ground. I made sure the prophecy was intact, and sat up, disheveled. Knowing I needed to get the hell out of here, I quickly returned to the room, shutting the door behind me as the Death Eaters opened theirs. Thankfully, the room began to spin, spells bouncing all around me, and I rushed forward, diving at the wall and hoping I made a good guess. I fell through, and kept falling, a deep stone pit rising to greet me, but an Impedimenta Charm stopped me a few inches above the ground. The door exploded off of it’s hinges, and I barely had time to crawl behind a boulder as spells rained down at me, black and scarlet jinxes, bright purple hexes, and the all-too-familiar green of the Killing Curse, I stumbled to my feet, the intense use of magic wearing on my body, and fired a few hexes at them as I scrambled up onto a dais, ducking behind a pillar of the ornate archway that stood atop it. I heard the crazy woman speaking, presumably as she climbed down to me.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are! Little girl… Agh!” I peeked out, and saw her freeze, clutching her forehead. A Cruciatus Curse narrowly missed me, and I ducked back, trying to think of something. If I tried to reverse gravity again, the energy required would kill me (I had used the rush of power from Kissing Umbridge the first time), but an idea struck me. It was tricky, and had a slim-to-none chance of my survival, but it was better than staying behind the archway. I darted out, aiming very carefully, and swiftly cast two Summoning Charms. A Killing Curse that Lucius had cast arced around, quickly flying towards my right, while a line of white light approached my left. Knowing I had to do this right, I waited until the last second, and jumped, aiming my wand down as the spells collided. Normally, such a powerful spell would release a large amount of energy when impacting, but I cast a powerful Transfiguration spell, converting all of the energy in the explosion and absorbing it into my body. It felt as though liquid metal was pouring into my bones, but the rush of power I felt meant it had worked. Not pausing, still in the air, I shouted a spell, hoping it would work.
“Diffindus Accioterum!” I was hinging my life on a few moments I’d observed, but it was all I had. I landed, poised, as Bella, the dark haired woman, looked around her.
“Ha! Spell didn’t even work.” I rolled my eyes as the wall behind her cracked and groaned, ribbons of cracks appearing behind her.
“Wasn’t aiming at you, genius.” The wall exploded, a square-shaped chunk slamming into Bella and flinging her through the air, where I caught her in my arms. Her face barely had enough time to show confusion before I pressed my lips to hers, trying as hard as I could to control my soul-eating abilities. My goal was, since she obviously was either under the Imperius Curse or suffering from some other magical compulsion (what being her reactions both here and in the Hall of Prophecies), to try to only eat the evil in her soul. Another wave of energy crashed into me, and I let go, moving my wand quickly in the same motion I’d done in the Hall, except counterclockwise, and when I slashed up into the air, a dome of rock exploded from the ground, shielding the two of us from the others. Bella was dreamily dozing on the ground, looking a lot like Marcy after a Christmas Party, and I shook her shoulder.
“Hello? Miss, er, Bella?” muffled shouts began to sound from outside the dome, and she blinked rapidly, eyes finally focusing on me.
“Oh, hello! It’s nice to actually meet you. Sorry for the Killing Curses.” I furrowed my brow, confused, as she stood, brushing herself off.
“I know we’ve not an ounce to time, so I’ll be quick. The Dark Lord, some time ago, picked me as his wife, and when I voiced concern, he performed a ritual that locked my true self away, instead showing the ‘me’ he wanted in a wife. Whatever you kissing me did must’ve broken the curse, so thank you!” I nodded shakily, ground rumbling as the Death Eaters blasted their way to us.
“Shall we? I’m much better dueller than you, no offense. Just cast more crazy magic while I keep them off of you, yeah?” I nodded, refocusing myself like I would during an exam, and dispelled the barrier. Bella moved beautifly as a dueller; swaying and staggering as though she was very drunk, but each blunder hid masterfully practiced movement. I stopped gaping at her as a rock next to me exploded, and surged into movement, sliding under a curse and whipping my wand at the wall next to the Death Eater that was targeting me. The surface bubbled, and snake-like tentacles of rock burst out of the wall, which he twirled his wand at, changind the snakes into hundreds of stone spears. I was stunned, and only cast a Shield Charm, watching them bounce off.
“Quite good at Transfiguration, aren’t you?” They grunted noncommittally, taking the compliment, and we resumed, using everything in our environment against each other. Rocks were thrown, floors cracked, and I blocked one hex by dragging the unconscious body of a Death Eater into the way. Another jinx struck the Death Eater, and I turned to look at Bella, who lowered her wand, smiling innocently.
“Was done with all of mine, so I figured I’d give you a hand.” A loud crash sounded above us, accompanied by more spells, and Bella darted forward, grabbing my robes and dragging me towards an alcove. Once we were inside, she spoke.
“S’pose I’ve a bit of apologizing to do.” I waved her off.
“Not to you. Sirius, firstly, then a long list of others. Then maybe you.” I rolled my eyes, and we emerged into the foyer of the Ministry, which was deadly silent.
“Come on, we need to get out of here.” Bella was urging me towards a fireplace, when out of it exploded Sirius, Lupin, my mums, and the rest of the adults at Grimmauld Place. Before they could attack Bella I spoke, hand out.
“Wait! I used my dementor powers to eat the evil parts of her soul. She’s good now.” No one except Sirius acknowledged me, and he spoke faintly, hopefully.
“Bells?” She grinned sunnily, which contrasted with her cracked, broken teeth and generally ‘insane’ demeanor.
“Hey there, Star-Shine!” He gasped, and they moved to hug each other. This movement saved Sirius’s life, as a Killing Curse occupied the space his head had been in. I whipped around, and to my horror, saw Voldemort, with two Death Eaters at his side.
“You, my dear, have been quite… Frustrating. Firstly, you escape my capture, then you remove a curse I worked years to perfect with a kiss?” I stepped forward angrily, others frozen in fear.
“You remind me of myself, in fact. Powerful, intelligent. Ruthless.” I realized what he was aiming at, and my eyes widened.
“You aren’t seriously asking me to join you, are you?” His smile widened, and he waved his wand. The two Death Eaters slackened, and he moved them to the space between us, where they collapsed.
“A… signing bonus, as they say. I know you’ve been so hungry in the castle… all those emotions, and only a beggar’s portion? Join me, and you will feast.” My eyes flicked to the two Death Eaters. Was he seriously going to fall for the same trick, twice? I made a show of fighting my hunger, throwing hand gestures at the others behind me as secretly as I could, and eventually ‘gave in’, Kissing both Death Eaters and feeling the rush of power.
“You really need to learn to read people, Voldy.” His eyebrows quirked, and I twitched my wand, almost playing a staccato, spooky melody, hand twisted and gnarled. Blue streaks of lightning covered the Death Eaters, and I finished the spell by holding onto the wand (which was stuck in midair) and pantomiming a witch being hanged as I spoke, voice scratchy and sounding far older than I was.
“Pugna Bellum!” Voldemort recoiled, as the corpses of the Death Eaters rose, jerkily drawing their wands.
“Bathsheeba’s Curse? How…” He began to duel them, and I shouted over my shoulder at the group behind me, who’d been frozen in amazement and fear.
“I’ve only got about one more big spell in me, so feel free to join in!” I heard two explosions, and looked back at Voldemort to see the now-headless bodies of the Death Eaters crumple to the ground.
“Admirable. Using the power of souls to cast a spell that normally requires four wizards.” I released the spell, and stood.
“I wonder… what are you thinking of, Dementor? Of a spell to kill me?” I scowled.
“There are many that come to mind.” A streak of blue light flew over my shoulder, and he dodged, disappearing in a whirl of his cloak and appearing further away, staring at someone over my shoulder. Not wanting to waste the advantage, I used the rest of the power I’d gained from the Death Eaters to Apparate upside down directly in front of him, then use the same spell that had gotten me into this Dementor nonsense (Mutare Loca!), before finally dragging my wand down and slamming him chest-first into the ground. His face had cracked the marble floor, and I leaned down next to him.
“Falling for the same trick? Must be losing your touch, old man.” Quick as a snake, his hand darted out, seeking my throat, but a Shield Charm knocked us away from each other. I stood, confused, and saw Dumbledore standing across from us, wand out.
“Thank you, Miss Ollivander. You are dismissed.” Feeling the focus and anger in his mind, I scooted across the foyer, meeting up with the others at the fireplace. As Sirius threw down Floo Powder, I saw Harry slide out of a fireplace, wand out. We were too late to stop him, and I watched as we were whisked away into the sooty darkness.
I had to be magically restrained by Remus once we’d arrived at Grimmauld Place, wrestling with all of my might to break the Body-Bind Curse, but to no avail.
“We need to save him!” Remus sighed.
“Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard in history. Harry is in more than capable hands.” I scowled, angry, from my spot on the ground.
“Can you at least prop me up?” He snorted, and waved his wand, raising me up and leaning me against the bookcase, where I shot him a dry look.
“Much appreciated.” The others had gone to take care of Bella, and Remus and I sat (well, I leaned) in relative silence until he pulled out Sirius’s pipe.
“Ah, could you give me mine?” He frowned, and I nodded down to my robes, where the tip of the pipe stuck out. Rolling his eyes, he stood.
“That stuff’ll kill you, you know.” I was bemused as he said this, he pulled my pipe from my robes and placed it into my mouth before lighting it with his wand.
“Pot and kettle.” He rolled his eyes again, and sat back down.
“If all of this nonsense ever gets sorted, I’ll quit.” I thought for a moment.
“Me, too. One way or another.” He raised an eyebrow at the dark joke, but said nothing.
I was safely smuggled back into the school once the situation at the Ministry was resolved, to a storm of people interrogating me in Ravenclaw Tower. Harry was furious I’d gone alone, but once I explained that out of the leaders, he was the most willing to believe that someone had written ‘you’re a dolt’ onto the ceiling, and that I knew it had to be a trap, he calmed down somewhat. Everyone that had been present in Umbridge’s office had apparently kept their mouths shut, which was nice, but rumors spread still. With Dumbledore reinstated as Headmaster, and word out that Voldemort was back, the year dragged to a close, finals a distant memory in my head. I was more preoccupied with getting to Grimmauld Place, where I could finally get personally involved with the resistance.
Chapter 22: The Duly-Elected Queen of Britannia
Chapter Text
My arrival was not as joyous as I’d hoped, drawn faces and dark looks. I found Shacklebolt in the basem*nt, talking quietly with Dorcas. Seeing me, he stood.
“Miss Ollivander. I believe… I believe that I owe you an apology.” I frowned, confused, and walked over, looking at the parchment he’d indicated.
“Report of what a raiding party found at a ‘Ministry Outpost.’” I perused it, noting obvious Death Eater materials like Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, cursed wands.
“This is standard fare for Death Eaters. Why did it change your mind?” He grabbed the paper back, sighed, and handed me another.
“There.” I read this one, which contained several more dangerous items, as well as an entry simply labeled ‘see incident report’.
“What is this last one?” Dorcas grimaced.
“Here. One of our photographers happened to be taking a picture when it went off.” I took the slightly charred photo, and watched as a small bulb, almost like a bell, bumped out of a box and impacted the ground. The camera was filled with smoke and gouts of fire, as well as a shake that had to have been an explosion.
“Six injured, and we couldn’t find much of the two who’d been carrying the box.” My eyes were wide, and I looked up at her.
“What is this?” Kingsley scratched the back of his head, nervous for the first time.
“Some of our people in the situation room did research. It’s based off of a cursed object used in ancient Greek magic. Called a ‘Lily-of-the-grave’. The technique was thought to have been lost, but somehow it isn’t.” I set down the picture, frowning at the ground.
“I don’t like this, this ‘arms-race’. He’s seen what I can do, so he’s trying to match it. Scare me into making a mistake.” Dorcas frowned at Kingsley, and I sighed.
“I was his ‘pet project’. Since I’d been fused with a dementor’s soul, he tried to turn me into a weapon. It worked, in a sense, but I can also cast more powerful magic with more… uh, souls I consume. I flipped the entire Hall of Prophecies onto it’s side, cast a spell that normally requires four wizards, et cetera.” Kingsley and Dorcas were looking at me in disbelief, and I noticed that a few people were hanging in the doorway, listening.
“That’s… seriously powerful magic. He wanted to use you as a weapon?” I nodded.
“I assume so. I kill anything I touch, and the more I kill, the more powerful I become.” It was grim, but the truth, and I sat, sighing.
“It’s fitting, though. Dumbledore’d probably say something about ‘power has a cost’ and all that.” I heard a chuckle, and whirled around to see Dumbledore at the back of the group.
“Indeed I would have. I was actually hoping for a word, Miss Ollivander?” The room was tense, and I gladly took the opportunity, leaving and following him outside, where we sat on a park bench.
“What did you want to talk to me about, Headmaster?” He frowned, looking out at the street and small park.
“I have a few questions for you, Miss Ollivander. Of course, if you’d rather not indulge an old man in pointless questions, I-“ I quickly cut him off, waving my hand.
“Of course not. Ask away.” He nodded, and we lapsed back into silence. After a solid minute of silence, he finally spoke.
“What is the most powerful spell you can create? One that could easily defeat Lord Voldemort.” I frowned, having tossed the idea around in my head before, before shaking my head.
“One that would vaporize anyone within a mile, maybe further.” He sighed, and nodded.
“Are you prepared to fight this war?” I nodded.
“Yes.” He leaned back, and sighed, looking up at the sky.
“My last request is a bit personal. I would like you to perform the same act that you did to Bellatix Lestrange on me.” I looked over at him, confusion obvious on my face.
“Not remove my evil, of course. I merely wish for you to remove some of the sadness from my life.” I hesitantly nodded, and took his hand, focusing intently.
“Not all of it, you see, just lessen the burden slightly.” I nodded, and began delicately peeling away his sadness. His life had been long, but it was not until I reached a point early in his life that he stopped me. From our connection I got a brief flicker of a girl’s face, and he spoke.
“Leave that, please.” I nodded, and once I was done, he smiled.
“Ah, you’ve given an old man peace of mind.” I smiled, and stood, intending to head back inside. As I neared the door, he spoke.
“Oh, Siobhan?” I turned, and met his eyes as he sat.
“Yes, Headmaster?” I began to feel a strange sensation, similar to floating. I was struck with the thought that I’d come untethered, but I wasn’t sure from what.
“You must remember: save as many as you can. Hoping to save all of them is a fool’s pursuit that inevitably ends in misery.” It was about this moment I realized that the strange feeling was coming from Dumbledore, and it vanished, a cheery smile crossing his face.
“I do like benches. Especially these, with the circles.” Not having a single clue what just happened, I nodded, and entered, planning on returning to the basem*nt when an arm grabbed my sweater, pulling me into the lounge. I yelped, and turned to see Bella grinning at me. She was much more calmed-down-looking after a shower and some toothpaste, but she still stuck to the ‘goth’ style.
“What is it?” She flopped onto the sofa much the same way Sirius did, and sighed.
“I’ve had an idea. A smart one, I promise.” I raised an eyebrow, fixing my collar as I sat opposite her.
“Go on.” She sat up, excited.
“I think I’ve figured out a way to help you get stronger without having to kill people.” This intrigued me, and I leaned forward.
“You can strip parts of people’s souls, right? So what if you only took some emotion from a memory, then I relived it to restore the emotion?” This was a lot, even for me, but I tried to figure out what she was saying, humming to myself as I thought.
“I… guess that could work. How do you know you can ‘restore emotions’?” She shrugged.
“Just find one now, and we’ll test it.” I sighed, and reached out a hand, which she took. I closed my eyes, and she spoke as a memory surfaced.
“This one.” I nodded, and ate some of the emotion, feeling a light buzz fill me.
“Alright.” I let go, shivering involuntarily at the sudden energy, when Kingsley burst into the room.
“Ollivander. There’s an attack.” I jumped to my feet, wand already out, and waved a quick goodbye to Bella as we exited Grimmauld Place, Dumbledore having left.
“Some of ours are in a large-scale duel with the Ministry in Edinburgh. They need help.” I nodded, and grabbed the cuff of his robes to Disapparate.
“Are you sure about this? It’s not going to be pretty.” I scowled, and let go, shooting him a glare.
“Still working on the ‘quick’ part, eh?” Before he could respond, I Disapparated, Splinching myself since I’d never been to Edinburgh, and appearing in a bombed-out building. A few people jumped at my appearance (and the blood seeping out of a free appendectomy), but I didn’t pause, using the rest of Bella’s energy and some of Dumbledore’s to heal myself.
“Siobhan?!” I looked up, and saw Augusta, face streaked with blood and cuts.
“I’m here! What’s the situation?” I practically had to shout over the hailstorm of spells, ducking down next to her behind a thick stone wall.
“Ministry has us pinned. Must be thirty of them.” A Stinging Hex caught the shoulder of a girl next to me, who doubled over in pain.
“Alright, well, I may have a solution, but it’s going to sound insane.” She nodded.
“Anything is better than nothing.” I smiled wryly, and grabbed her hand.
“Think of something very sad.” After a moment, she did so, and I stripped almost all of it away from her, a rush of power hitting me. I let go, taking in a deep breath, as she looked at me in awe.
“We figured out a way to weaponize me against the bad guys.” She nodded slowly, and I shot her another grin.
“Might want to take cover.” Not waiting, I jumped gracefully over the wall, landing in front of a large group of Ministry officials, who stopped casting at my appearance.
“We have you surrounded!” I grinned toothily, feeling the power course through me.
“I know. I almost feel bad.” I swept my wand in a large circle, and shoved inward with the handle of the wand. The circle, which had appeared in bright white light, floated out a bit, before coming to a rest on the ground.
“What spell is this? Some kinda distraction?” I jumped a little, just enough so that I wasn’t touching the ground, and flicked my wand. A massive earthquake shot out from the ground beneath me, moving in a cone towards them, earth and road crumbling and falling. They began to flee, and once the last one had Disapparated, I ended the spell.
“They’re gone, everyone.” I turned to see that everyone was staring, and blushed slightly.
“Everyone okay? Get the injured somewhere safe.” People began to move, Kingsley sidling up to me.
“If they are this brazen, I’m glad you’re on our side.” I sighed.
“But, perhaps next time try to keep the architecture intact?” I frowned, and turned back, now seeing the cone had carved through several buildings. Using the rest of my energy, I cast a Repairing Spell, leaning sluggishly on Kingsley as I grew faint.
Once I’d recovered, I had little time to rest. The Ministry had set up a task force to specifically hunt us, several ‘Deputy Aurors’ simply Death Eaters, and I knew the longer this went on, the more innocent people would be hurt. We’d gotten reports of a mass of magic-users, not affiliated with the Ministry, traveling across Britain, slowly heading towards Hogwarts. Our resources were spread thin, but if this army made it to Hogwarts, I doubted even Dumbledore could stop them. As such, the first part of my summer was spent tracking the group, trying to estimate size and if the giants had indeed sided with Voldemort. As they drew within thirty miles of Hogwarts, a small mountain blocking it from view, I sighed.
“We have to stop them. Whatever the cost.” Bella frowned from underneath a pile of leaves and sticks (she took ‘camoflauge’ quite literally).
“What do you mean? Siobhan, what are you about to do?” I sighed.
“Sorry.” I reached out, and grabbed her shoulder, taking a large amount of sadness from a random memory, and stood. If my eyes were correct, everyone should be free of the blast radius. Bella stood as I closed an eye, aiming down my wand carefully.
“Siobhan, what are you about to do?” I cleared my throat, and spoke as a heavy weight dropped onto my shoulders.
“What I have to.” I then performed a similar motion to the Gravity Switching Spell, instead of slashing drawing a circle, which hovered, two small balls of light appearing.
“This may kill me, but it’ll stop them.” I reached forward, holding my wand like a quill, and plucked one of the balls, which, once it impacted the other ball, vanished.
Far off, down in the valley, a giant paused his large, thunderous steps, feeling something twitching in his chest. He turned in time to see two figures, some distance off, looking at two very bright pinpricks of light. He didn’t raise an alarm, more confused than anything, and squinted as the lights suddenly vanished.
I looked down, sorrow filling me, as the spell took effect. I had used the targeting spiral of the Gravity Switching Spell to instead target two atoms in the giant’s chest, using knowledge from A Brief History Of Time to cause a collision, which quickly caused a fission reaction, setting off a small atomic bomb in his heart. A blinding light filled the valley, as an earthquake knocked us off of our feet, watching from the ground as the light faded, replaced by a huge cloud of smoke and fire, roiling up into the sky. Bella gasped, and I looked down into the valley, finding instead a crater, charred and burning. I turned on my heel, and began to walk away, not able to see the destruction I’d wrought a second longer.
The train was almost empty. Everyone spoke in low tones, glancing at windows as if Voldemort might swoop through at a moment’s notice. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were having a very deep talk, so I instead sat with Ginny and Luna.
“How was your summer, Siobhan?” I sighed, as if the collection of new scars, various scrapes, and burns wasn’t indication enough, and turned to Luna.
“Alright. And yours?” She nodded dreamily, absorbed in a magazine that appeared to be upside down. I turned my focus back to Ginny, who smiled.
“Least you’ll have a break. From figh-“ A loud explosion shook the train, and I stood, drawing my wand.
“You two stay here.” Luna hadn’t even been phased by the explosion, instead opening the window and withdrawing, to my utter disbelief, a joint.
“Really? Right now?” She shrugged.
“If I’m stuck here, might as well smoke now instead of in the lavatory.” I shook my head, still amazed, and headed down the train, waving people back into their cabins until I reached the last few cars, which were partially destroyed, landscape clearly visible where walls had once been. I stayed quiet, and barely dodged a curse from a man with a long beard and shaved head, who jumped out from part of a damaged cabin, dropping a pair of Slytherin robes. I jumped back, taking cover, and spoke loudly.
“Came disguised as a student, eh? Shame your Lilies went off a bit early.” A hex smashed into the wall next to my head, and I sighed, darting from cover and ducking under a jinx, latching my hand around the closer Death Eater’s ankle and eating his soul quickly. He dropped, and, before I could intervene, the other Death Eater jumped to the next carriage, waving his wand and disconnecting the car. I swore creatively, and rolled onto my back, jumping up to see the man twirl his wand. The car I was on warped, but I stayed upright, seeing the car start to slow down. I started running, and, as I neared the end of the car, I jumped, twisting in midair and casting a Banishing charm on the car, which propelled me forward. Arching my back, I aimed as carefully as I could, and cast a summoning spell on a mountain directly in front of the train. My gamble paid off, and I shot back onto the train, kicking the Death Eater in his chest and sending him through the wall. By the time I’d gotten to my feet, he had a first-year in a vicegrip, wand to her head. Wasting no time, I Vanished his brain, and he went limp, letting go of the first-year in the process. Thankfully, the remainder of the train ride was quiet (albeit a bit quicker), and we disembarked, a group of professors waiting, wands out. I led them to the destroyed portion of the train, and where the Death Eater’s body lay.
“Other one was on the car that got detached.” Dumbledore nodded grimly.
“Any victims?” Madam Pomfrey shook her head.
“Thankfully, those cars were empty.” I sighed, and started off to where the last carriage waited, empty. I spent the ride up to the castle thinking about all of the deaths on my hands, before resolving that I was saving the right people. I leaned back, and scratched my head, already tired of this year.
“Very best of evenings to you all. First off, let me introduce the newest member of our staff, Horace Slughorn.” I glanced at the squat, pudgy older man with mild curiosity as Dumbledore continued.
“Professor Slughorn, I'm happy to say, has agreed to resume his old post as Potions Master. Meanwhile, the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts will be taken by Professor Snape. As you know, each and every one of you were searched upon your arrival here tonight…” My face darkened as I remembered the fight on the train, “…and you have the right to know why. Once, there was a young man. Like you, sat in this very hall. Walked this castle's corridors. Slept under it's roof. You see, to all the world, a student like any other. His name: Tom Riddle. Today of course, he is known all over the world by another name. Which is why, as I stand, looking out upon you all tonight, I'm reminded of a sobering fact. Every day, every hour, this very minute, perhaps... dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle's walls. But in the end, that greatest weapon...is you. Just something to think about. Now off to bed, beep beep.” The Ravenclaw common room was somber. News of the revolution was spreading, slowly but surely, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before the fighting became much larger-scale. I met with the others, out on the balcony, and scowled out over the view of the surrounding countryside, the mountain that obscured my crater souring my thoughts.
“Siobhan? Still with us?” I sighed.
“Yeah. Got a lot on my plate, sorry. What’s up?” Hermione handed me a scroll of parchment.
“Notes from Dumbledore. They confiscated over one-hundred packages, including a Lily-of-the-grave disguised as a Howler.” I dragged a hand over my face, and perused the notes, feeling the strain from managing an entire rebellion.
“Good, good. Tell him thank you. Can I have a moment alone, please?” She nodded, and the others left me alone. I traced a river with my eyes, lost in thought, and stood, leaning against the balcony.
“I don’t know what to do. All of this responsibility…” The river emptied into the lake, naturally, and I scrutinized the shape of the inlet, noting a few trees and bushes.
“I need an ace in the hole. Something over Voldemort.” I knew that, even though we were officially fighting the Ministry, Voldemort’s growing control of the government meant more and more that I was fighting him by proxy, and he was bound by very few rules, if any. I cast my mind back to my time in the dungeon, trying to remember what I could from his emotions. So much cruelty, and anger, yet he was dangerously intelligent, which was what made him such a formidable opponent. I was no dueller, and most likely never would be, so I knew I needed to outthink him, since fighting would end in defeat. An idea, incredibly risky, and one that had the potential to ruin everything I’d been working for, popped into my head. I turned it over a few times, ironing out a few points, before returning to the common room, still deep in thought. Not speaking to anyone, I grabbed some Floo Powder from the emergency stash, and travelled to Grimmauld Place, whispering the location into the fire. Once it spat me into the lounge, which was empty, I scanned the house with my eye, spotting Sirius and Bella in the kitchen. I ran into a few resistance members on the way, some of whom shot me strange looks, since I was supposed to be at Hogwarts, and Sirius said as much when I sat across from him, next to Bella.
“I have an idea. A totally dangerous, reckless one. But, if it works, it could give us the edge we need.” He frowned, as did Bella.
“Bella, I need you to describe exactly the ritual You-Know-Who did to you, as best as you can remember.” Her face darkened, and she stood, retrieving a sheet of parchment and a quill. She spoke as she wrote, detailing the process of the ritual on the paper. It required several ingredients, and a human sacrifice, but I theorized that I could store enough energy in myself to avoid killing someone. She slid the paper over to me, and I began to annotate it, adding a few calculations and diagrams on the back.
“Alright. This does not leave the three of us, understand?” When they both nodded, I continued.
“I’m going to perform this ritual, plus a little metaphysical Transfiguration, on myself, and make myself a mole in the Death Eaters.” Sirius’ jaw dropped, and Bella choked on her drink.
“Are you serious? You’re our leader, what would we do without you? Plus, there’s no telling whether or not he’d even believe you were defecting, let alone keep you alive.” I gazed down at the parchment vacantly, thinking hard.
“Not so. He put a lot of effort into me. Even at the Ministry he was still trying to get me onto his side. He knows how powerful I can be, so we just need a plausible enough story for why I change sides.” Sirius withdrew, and lit, his pipe, sliding the parchment over and reading through it.
“These calculations are insane. There’s no guarantee that this ritual would work. There are so many variables against you here I’d need the population of Britain to count them all.” I crossed my arms defiantly.
“I’m not asking for your permission. I can do this by myself, but it would be easier if I had help.” He still wasn’t convinced, but Bella, who’d been staring into her cup, spoke.
“Would this give us a shot at stopping him, once and for all?” I nodded.
“A slim one, but better than what we’ve got now.” She took a long drink, and set the cup down.
“What do you need me to do?”
The plan was, sadly, not simple. I started by stacking energy, using Bella to siphon as much as I could until I was practically bouncing off of the walls. School was a distant memory, and I threw myself fully into the plan, slowly bringing more and more people into it as it took shape. The ritual would be used with a combination of psychological Transfiguration to hide my true thoughts from Voldemort, essentially splitting my soul like he’d done to Bella, but keeping my true thoughts hidden beneath the ‘new me,’ so his Legilimency wouldn’t be able to see the truth. With the help of a few potioneers, the process began. It was arduous, requiring large amounts of my blood, various ingredients that were either extremely rare or extremely expensive, and after a week of constant work, the potion was ready. Bella and I were alone, in the lounge, and I inspected the small vial, which held a dark black liquid.
“Now, as you drink it, blood must be spilled by the ‘ruler,’ or the one in control. Guess that’d be you, as well.” I nodded, and as I prepared to drink the vial, a knife in my other hand to make the cut, she spoke.
“Are you sure about this? As soon as you start drinking, there’s no turning back.” I took a deep breath.
“Yes. I also apologize for whatever I do.” She shrugged.
“We’re at war. No one can judge anyone for doing what it takes to survive.” That reassured me a little, and, before I could back out, I lifted the vial to my lips. It tasted like charcoal, and I fought down a gag as I sliced my arm open. As the first drop hit the ground, a powerful wave of lethargy struck me, but I held firm, finishing the vial and drawing my wand. I pressed the tip to my temple, and held my intention at the front, beginning a long process of tinkering with my mind, in a similar way to Voldemort, but this time I had complete control over what was happening. Once I had hidden my true consciousness, I layered a new one over the top, built not quite to be exactly what Voldemort was looking for, but something that would entice him without looking like an outright lie. It was difficult work, having to precisely build my own psyche back up, piece by piece, and took quite a long time, Bella leaving to eat while I was working and returning as I was finishing up. “There we are. All done.” She watched me hesitantly, and spoke as though I was a live explosive.
“Did it… work?” I was still in control, but could easily slip into the new psyche, and I tested it a few times, not doing much physically, instead monitoring my mental state until I was satisfied.
“Yes, it did. Are we ready for the second part of the plan?” At her nod, we exited the lounge, heading to the door to meet up with several resistance members. This was the tricky part—I had to really sell the fact that I was ‘defecting.’ The eight of us Apparated to an alleyway a few blocks from the Ministry, and I smoothed the front of my jacket, nervous.
“Good luck, Siobhan.” I nodded curtly to Bella, and cracked my neck before hurrying onto the empty street, as it was around midnight. I knew that the Ministry would be watching any activity around their entrances, and I slipped into my ‘alter-ego’, feeling a haze of emotions and thoughts settle over the top of my real mind. It was jolting, but I let myself into the flux of my new mind, resentment and anger at being ‘betrayed’ (my cover story) by the resistance flaring up. I stalked down the street, scowling, until one of the other members of the resistance stepped out of the alleyway, wand drawn.
“Siobhan! Don’t do this. We can still work together.” I wheeled around, wand out, and winged a hex at him, shouting as I did.
“I can’t believe you people. First you kick me out of a revolution I made, then ask me to come back?” We began to duel, until a larger group of them joined in, and I shrieked, jamming my wand into the ground and releasing a shockwave that knocked the majority of them to the ground. I then Disapparated, reappearing in Diagon Alley, where I quickly ducked into Knockturn Alley, searching for a pub or tavern. I got several looks from the Dark magic users in the alley, who gave me a wide berth (Voldemort must have spread rumors about how dangerous I was), and found a tiny little pub with a battered sign that read, ‘Devil’s End.’ It was nearly empty, and I found a seat at the bar easily, a wizened old woman with several missing teeth walking over to me.
“Ain’t you that girl ‘been riling people up?” I scowled, and plunked a few Galleons down on the table.
“Not anymore. Firewhiskey, make it a double.” She took the gold, and poured my drink, which I quickly downed.
“Trouble in paradise?” I rolled my eyes.
“Could put it that way. Betrayal, more like.” She smiled quickly, and offered to refill my drink, but I shook my head, withdrawing my pipe and lighting it.
“They’ll get theirs, don’t worry. I’m not going to sit back and let them ruin everything I’ve built.” A gust of air flooded the bar as the door opened, and I looked over my shoulder to see a squad of people in all black enter. They had to be Death Eaters, and my suspicions were confirmed when Lucius Malfoy entered at the end of the group. They all had their wands out, and a noticeable tension formed as Malfoy stepped to the front of the crowd. I stood, and faced them, wand still in my pocket.
“Heard a little rumor about you and your ‘crew,’ Miss Ollivander.” My scowl deepened.
“Not my crew anymore.” He tutted, glancing down at his cane.
“Shame. Seems to me they’ve made quite a powerful enemy.” I crossed my arms.
“They have. One they’ll come to regret making.” He indicated an empty table, and sat. I sat across from him, pipe still lit, and leaned back in the chair.
“I assume you’re here to kill me? I’m all on my own, and you’ve brought a legion of your friends here.” He smiled thinly.
“In fact, I am not. They’re merely here for my… protection. You understand, with the reputation you’ve made.” Flipping the Hall of Prophecy on it’s side seemed to have left an impression on him. I grinned.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Malfoy. I’m not going to turn this bar upside down. Figuratively, or literally. So, what are you here for?” He shrugged.
“To make an offer. You want revenge on your former allies, am I correct?” At my nod, he continued.
“Then… My superior wishes to make amends. He understands that his treatment of you was… cruel, though you must understand his reasoning for acting as he did.” I nodded, blowing a ring of smoke.
“Now, yes. I will also admit I was… uncouth. Though, at that time I did have certain beliefs.” His eyebrow rose.
“Oh? And what are your beliefs now?” My face darkened, smile vanishing.
“My beliefs now are of revenge. Not against your… superior, but rather my former allies. Betrayal is quite the powerful fuel. I’m sure you understand.” He nodded gently.
“Indeed I do. I am here to extend a request for parlay, as it were. A dinner, at Malfoy Manor. All he wants to do is talk with you. No strings attached, and if, at any point, you wish to leave, you will be able to do so unharmed.” His emotions backed this up, and after a moment of thought, I smiled again.
“I think… before certain events, I would be against parlay. But, the present circ*mstance being what it is, I think I would be inclined to accept.” He smiled in return, some relief seeping through.
“Very good. Shall we?” We both stood, and stepped back out onto the street, where he offered a gloved hand. I took it, and we Disapparated, appearing at the steps that led to Malfoy Manor.
“It is a… soiree, of sorts. You are, of course, the guest of honor.” I knew that if I had declined, he would have attacked me, and so didn’t ask what they would have done if I’d said no, instead doing a mock curtsy.
“I appear to be underdressed, then.” I waved my wand, changing into dark mauve dress robes, and entered, Malfoy leading the way to a large parlor, which I’d seen glimpses of with my magic eye during my time in the basem*nt. It was full of people, all Death Eaters or less-than-legitimate people, smoking and drinking, but when we entered, all conversation ceased. Voldemort himself was seated at the head of a large table, and he stood, walking over to where we stood in the doorway.
“My guest of honor. Please.” Lucius separated, walking over to where Narcissa sat, and I allowed Voldemort to lead me to the table, where several Death Eaters sat. Since no one had immediately tried to kill me, I figured the ritual was working, but I didn’t dare think too hard about it in such close proximity to Voldemort. I sat, at his right side, and he spoke as a glass of water was poured for me.
“Welcome. I trust that Lucius was not too much trouble?” I shook my head, looking down at the glass, my magic eye seeing that it had been spiked with Veritaserum.
“No, though I would like a glass of water. Or, only water.” After a beat, he chuckled.
“I see the rumors about your eye were true. Apologies, as that was simply a test.” A new glass, without any added potions, was poured, and I sipped as he spoke.
“I’m sorry to hear of what occurred between you and your former allies. Or, what little we’ve heard, as both sides do not share with each other, as I’m sure you know.” I nodded grimly.
“My former friends seemed keen on that concept as well. Potter especially.” My mentioning of Potter piqued his interest, which I knew it would, and he smiled.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Ollivander. Of course, if you are looking into the business of revenge, I could not blame you. Rather, I understand.” I inclined my head.
“Thank you. Now, not to throw aside our niceties, but I’ve been told you wish to speak with me about something?” He seemed a little glad to stop pretending to be nice, and steepled his fingers.
“Yes. Your falling out with the rebels presents a unique opportunity for us. At a certain end, we now have the same goal, though for different reasons.” I thought back to the peacetalk with Draco, and a corner of my mouth rose.
“An enemy of my enemy, as they say.” He nodded.
“Indeed. Obviously, I will sweeten the pot. I do not wish for you to join my ranks as a Death Eater; rather, in a more… contract-work position. You would naturally be given a suite in Malfoy Manor, as well as supply of your… food. In return, you would assist me in defeating the rebels.” I thought over the choice, though really I had already made up my mind.
“Sweeten the pot indeed. I believe I shall accept.” Joy radiated from him, and he raised his glass, room falling quiet.
“A toast, to Siobhan Ollivander. May she help us to victory.” I smiled, and he lowered his voice, speaking to me quietly.
“If you like, please mingle. Due to your penchant for theoretical, or ‘homemade’ magic, I took the liberty of inviting some of the brightest minds I’m in contact with. Enjoy, and once the soiree is over, I shall have someone show you to your rooms.” I nodded, and began mixing with the people, smoking my pipe as I did. Though the party was mostly Death Eaters, there were indeed a few magic users that studied theoretical magic, however theirs was bent more towards Dark magic. It was interesting to discuss theories, or workshop various spells (one wizard from Slovenia was trying to create a spell that would turn a person’s cells into antimatter, though this was quite a lofty goal), but after a while I found myself sitting with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, as well as a few Death Eaters and a poisoner from Dublin.
“May I test your rumored ‘magical eye,’ Miss Ollivander?” I smiled at Narcissa, and nodded.
“How many fingers am I holding up behind my back?” I focused on her midriff, trying to hone in my eye so I wasn’t looking through the chair, or stuck in her vertebrae, and eventually saw that she was holding up two fingers. I said as much, and she smiled, withdrawing the hand to quiet applause.
Living at Malfoy Manor was an interesting experience. My rooms were palatial, decorated with what was surely expensive paintings, various sculptures, and a bas-relief of an ancient Greek battle between magic users. I was ‘fed’ once daily, which was in the form of a Kiss administered to various prisoners the Death Eaters took. In a sense I became an executioner, though I also went on various missions, usually destroying buildings or making shows of how powerful I was. My latest mission was in the Ministry, finally, which meant that Voldemort trusted me enough to leave me unsupervised in the government’s headquarters. This signaled the next step in my undercover mission, and once I was sure I was out of sight of anyone important, I made my way to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, where one of the resistance’s moles worked. The Department was slightly underfunded, essentially looking like a large warehouse filled with cubicles, but I found my contact in a separate office that overlooked the cubicles.
“Come in.” I entered, and nodded at Julia, the new head of the Pest Advisory Board, and she waved a few other people out of the room. I sat, and sighed.
“Is it time?” I nodded, kicking my feet up onto her desk.
“Yep. Is everything ready?” She smiled grimly.
“Waiting on you.” I leaned my head back, looking up at the ceiling and dreading what was going to happen next.
“Alright. Do what you have to do.” I stood, and with a small smile, left, heading down to the Department of Mysteries. Voldemort had given me access, so I wasn’t hindered, entering the space that had formerly held Laboratory G. Now, through the tireless work of the resistance, it was secretly a holding area for captured Death Eaters. I met Kingsley at the door, his face somber.
“Siobhan.” He led me to a large group of Death Eaters, all unconscious, lying on cots in the middle of the laboratory floor.
“I’ve alerted Julia. Go ahead and clear everyone out.” Before leaving, he paused.
“Are you sure about this?” I gazed down at the Death Eaters.
“There is so much blood on my hands. If a little more ends this, I’m not afraid to do what I have to.” He bowed his head, and began ushering people out while I got to work. All in all, there were 40 Death Eaters slotted for ‘death by Siobhan’, and once the last one was absorbed, I looked around to find that I was totally alone. My senses buzzed, and I could almost feel the magic in the air around me as a massive amount of power flowed through me. Drawing my wand, I cast several smaller spells, moving documents and files, until I ended in the crescendo, drawing a large circle in the air, and with a twist, flipping my wand and holding it from the tip as I made a complicated gesture in the air. My eyes were tightly closed, as was my mouth, and I suddenly felt a suffocating pressure surround me as the spell took effect. Not wasting any time, I carved out a small area around me using my wand, and began to dig upward through the dirt that had replaced every single molecule of the Ministry of Magic. It was tough going, since there was no air, and I worked quickly, tunneling my way up until my vision began to darken, unconsciousness threatening to take me. Finally, I encountered stone, and burst through the wall of a sewer tunnel, gasping for air. I had no idea if anyone had gotten out, and brushed dirt from my clothes as I staggered towards a ladder leading up to a manhole.
London was in chaos. I peeked out from the manhole, and saw fires burning the horizon, thousands of flashes of light contrasted in front of it as total war broke out in the streets. I climbed out, covered in dirt and wild-eyed, ducking into an alleyway. I was about to Apparate when I had a startlingly profound realization, smoke beginning to rise into the air above the city. By destroying the Ministry, I’d inadvertently broken the International Statute of Secrecy irreversibly. But there was no time for worry now. I Apparated to Grimmauld Place, crashing through the door to find the house buzzing with activity. I waved off Kingsley, and quickly cleaned myself up, stepping into the situation room, which fell silent at my appearance.
“Status report.” An older woman with frameless glasses precariously perched on her nose stood.
“Your plan worked, I suppose. The Ministry is no more, but You-Know-Who is still trying to seize power. However, the fighting has spilled into the Muggle world, as I’m sure you saw when you exited the Ministry. This, aside from violating the Statute of Secrecy, has drawn the attention of various other magical societies across the world, since the Death Eaters had been moving quietly until now. In America, the MACUSA is mustering forces to come to our aid, as are many European countries, but some appear to be planning invasions. With Britain at war with itself, they may want to take advantage of our weakness.” I gulped.
“W-Well, who’s leading Britain now that the Ministry is gone? I mean, is Fudge still in control?” She shot a look at Kingsley, who thrust a newspaper printed exactly ten minutes after the Ministry had been destroyed. The headline read, in big, bold letters, “FROM REBEL TO QUEEN: OLLIVANDER OVERTHROWS MINISTRY SINGLEHANDEDLY more on pp. 2-8”’ My jaw dropped, and I looked up at Kingsley.
“What?” He shrugged.
“Turns out the sides were so divided that, by destroying the Ministry, you’re the only one left standing against You-Know-Who.” I cleared my throat delicately, and folded the newspaper up.
“What does that mean?” He scratched the back of his head, which is how I knew he was really rattled, and spoke quietly.
“The wizards of Britain have, unofficially, until a formal election, chosen you as the Queen of Britannia, which is the official term of the wizarding British Isles. Congratulations, I suppose, are in order.”
Chapter 23: The Battle For London
Chapter Text
At first, I was very confused, as I had no idea how the Wizarding community even knew who I was, but Augusta, with the help of Hermione, explained it to me. Apparently, the counter-propaganda we’d been sending in response to Death Eater-controlled media had mirrored what the people were thinking moreso than the continually devolving ‘public media’. Voldemort really cursed himself in the pimple when it came to magazine verbiage (that idiom is one I learned at Hogwarts, along with the tragic story of Eloise Midgen). That, coupled with photos of me at various battles doing insane magic, as well as a surprisingly heartfelt editorial by Rita Skeeter, swayed the public more and more into my favor. I wasn’t one for reading the news, so I’d been blissfully unaware of any of this until I was told I was Queen. The ‘official vote’ was held three days later, and I won in a landslide over Fudge, who had apparently been campaigning with ‘energy and passion not seen in years’. My first official move as queen was to consolidate the remaining Ministry members that didn’t go to the Death Eaters, in an attempt to gain a unified front against Voldemort. When it came to magical communities beyond Britannia, they were also split between Voldemort and I. America, France, and Germany began sending magic-users to the seat of the new government, which was in Edinburgh. I wanted to be closer to Hogwarts, in case Voldemort tried to attack it, and while our numbers were bolstered, so were his, magic users from Italy, Greece, and Spain trickling in (if my information was correct, that is.). This did nothing to foster peace outside of Britannia, sides now clearly drawn. I received a ‘free pass’ through the rest of the year, completing assignments by owl, but I returned immediately when news reached me that Dumbledore had been killed. Unfortunately, there was no one to take my anger out on when I arrived, so I had to settle for the funeral, which was a lovely service. I didn’t spend much time there, as several former-Ministry members tried to weasel their way into working for me, instead leaving to meet with the delegation from America, which, to my surprise, contained Cho Chang.
“Hell are you doing with the Yanks?” She shrugged, smoothing the front of her robes.
“I work in the American Ministry, and when I heard what had happened I begged them to let me come with.” I quickly mobilized the forces they’d sent to garrison the castle at Edinburgh, planning on focusing my strength on Edinburgh and Hogwarts. Voldemort could have London, for the time being, and I quickly appointed Julia to deal with the breaking of the statute of secrecy, since I needed to focus on the fighting. There were several skirmishes across Britain, as well as a nasty fight in Dublin that ended with several casualties. The French magic-users were invaluable when it came to battle-magic, and they even saved me a few times. The Americans were happy to patrol Edinburgh, most of them doing a bit of sight-seeing as well, and when the group from Germany arrived, I was thunderstruck. They’d sent well over two-hundred people, all wickedly good duellers, who I promptly put to work securing northern Scotland under Jameson, who was a brutal strategist. My plan was to present a unified front against southern England, where the bulk of Voldemort’s forces were, and the campaign in Ireland was also in support of this goal, led by Anthony. I decided to leave the strategy to the older Ravenclaws, my own focus being on Southern England. Most times, any battle I was a part of tended to swing in our favor, but I couldn’t be everywhere at once. A month after I was crowned, Jameson finished his campaign (a particularly bloody one; Voldemort had a giant clan outside of Tomintoul that chose blood over peace), and I sent him to help Anthony in Ireland while I diverted troops towards the south border. Voldemort’s attacks were quick, and ruthless, but I chose not to be reactionary, instead slowly pushing south, until we reached the first suburb of London. I looked out over what used to be rows of houses, now levelled, an eery silence punctuated by a slight breeze.
“Divert a quarter of our people to search for survivors. The rest will push on with me.” I marched forward, down the debris-covered street, and deeper into Voldemort’s territory, until we reach the first set of buildings that were still standing. Directly in our path stood a group of Death Eaters, the one at the front drawing their wand.
“Turn back, Ollivander. This is as far as you go.”
In a sense, magic-users were still stuck in our old ways when it came to large-scale fights. Trench warfare, marching and firing lines, that sort of thing. It was seen as a courtesy to allow the sides the night to prepare (some old tradition in magic hearkening too far back for me to remember from class), so we made our encampment along a line of flats, for the visibility. That night I didn’t sleep a wink, standing out in front of the buildings, pacing. In unison with the first bit of sunlight creeping across the horizon, spells began to fly. War was often cited as the corruptor of wizarding leaders, and I understood as I stood underneath a shimmering sky of rainbow colors, rippling and roiling with pure energy and light. A spell whipped past my ear, and I shifted into action, ducking behind a concrete bench. I was on the frontlines, Death Eaters crowding my bench, and I ducked out, managing to make skin contact with four of them at once, the resulting surge of energy making me black out.
I got flashes of memory, occasionally. The ground swaying, cracks of thunder as a hailstorm of lightning struck the flats, screams all around me as bodies (and pieces of bodies) scattered the ground, some coming back to life under command of the Death Eaters. The sky was black, filled with the Death Eaters’ symbol over and over as they slowly pushed forward. The next thing I remember is being pushed back to a small bridge, which bottlenecked the flow of undead (Inferi was the technical term), and an earth-splitting shriek that made seventy Death Eaters’ heads explode sent me charging back into the fray. The next flash, I was atop a pile of corpses, both former undead and just dead, shoulder dislocated, looking down at the remaining Death Eaters and knowing we still had a chance. My vision had long ago taken a bloody, red tinge, and I butchered my way through them, leading the charge with a wave of fire. Finally, my vision began to settle into a continuous stream, and I got my bearings, realizing we’d just won, though the losses on both sides were… catastrophic. People began moving the injured, or tending to them if the wounds were critical. The ground, and I also quickly realized myself, were soaked in blood, and I felt a strange sense of déjà vu when I looked at my blood-stained hands, a memory of a pub in a part of England I’d never been to. I shrugged it off, still feeling a slight hum of extra power, so I used it to heal myself, and quickly divided our remaining forces, a quarter to help move wounded, half to stand guard, and the rest were with me, on body detail. We worked for hours, digging graves, moving bodies, so much so that we were all sweating and sore by the end, even with magic. As we worked, I noticed that the twenty-or-so magic-users in the group were all ones I recalled seeing fighting, or overhearing rumors about their kill counts, and figured they were doing the same penance I was. Once the last body was buried, I gathered them around me.
“I would like to offer an opportunity to you all. Instead of being whatever position you are now, you will form a group of elite fighters with a very important mission.” The last bit piqued their interest, and one of the older ones stepped forward.
“What’s the mission?” I shrugged.
“You get as far into enemy territory as you want, then wreak havoc. Do whatever you have to, no strings, no judgement, no questions. As long as you’re making life worse for them, I’m game.” Their chin dropped, deep in thought.
“What about Unforgivable Curses?” A girl elbowed the other girl who’d spoken up, and rolled her eyes.
“Didn’t you see her use the Imperius Curse to make that one guy cut his own head off?” I winced slightly, but shrugged.
“As I said. Do whatever you have to.” The older one, obviously their impromptu leader, nodded.
“I’d say I’m in.” The rest of them quickly followed suit, and I let them go and help care to the wounded for the time being. I met up with Kingsley just outside of the worst area, who seemed to be feeling a bit queasy.
“That was the bulk of You-Know-Who’s forces. He’s on the run, to regroup, and the situation room estimates that he still has enough forces to mount an attack. Hogwarts has fallen, though many of ours remain inside. And, with the amount of casualties here…” I refused to look behind me, or at myself.
“It’s fallen, you say?” He nodded, and I stood still, almost waiting for an idea to come to me.
“I wonder…” As we Disapparated, arriving back in Edinburgh, my mind was tying itself into knots, trying to remember all of the secret passageways in an out of Hogwarts, when an idea struck me. After a shower and as much coffee as I could drink, I set out. I was, obviously, not telling anyone where I was going, but I left details with specific instructions for Kingsley. I did some minor Charmwork to change my appearance (trading out my usual haircut for a short, brunette bob, changing my eyes to brown, and making my nose a little smaller), and Apparated to Hogsmeade. It was midday, the sun about to start it’s descent, and I figured the best place to go for information wasn’t the Three Broomsticks, as it was sure to be crowded, but rather, the Hog’s Head. Apparently the older man who owned it had lived there for decades, so he was most likely on my side. I grabbed a free seat at the bar (I had my pick of the litter, since the place was practically abandoned), and set a few Galleons down.
“Looking for a drink, and some guidance. Firewhiskey, please.” The man, who had long, gray hair and a familiar face (I’d probably been here before) set a small glass down, filling it as he spoke quietly.
“Guidance?” I nodded, thanking him once the glass was full and taking a drink.
“Yes. Specifically, I’d like to return for my final year, but… Folk like me aren’t allowed in. I was wondering if you might’ve heard of another entrance?” He shot a quick look to the few other patrons, and leaned forward.
“What’s your name, girl?” I lowered my voice.
“Siobhan, though you may know me as Queen Ollivander of Britannia.” His jaw almost dislocated with how fast it dropped, but he quickly shut it.
“You’re not joking, either. Your eyes just changed color, so your disguise must be wearing off. Come with me, and act like I’m showing you to a room.” He grabbed the Galleons off of the table, and stepped out from behind the bar, leading me to a rickety staircase, which ended in a hallway with five doors, two on each side and one at the end. The man hustled me into the last one, inside which was what I assumed to be his room. It had several different tables, with drying goatskin on a rack in the corner, the tables having various woodworking and leatherworking tools strewn across them. However, what drew my attention was the massive painting that dominated the back wall, big enough that I could comfortably crouch-walk through, in which stood a younger girl, examining a flower. Her eyes turned to us as the man waved at her.
“Quickly! Get her inside as fast as possible.” He began moving me towards the painting, which swung open, revealing a tunnel behind it.
“Do what you have to, your highness.” I gave him a solemn nod, and climbed into the tunnel.
The trip through was not as perilous or exciting as you may be hoping; I got to the other end with no incident other than tripping over my own feet, but that was normal, even with magic legs. The painting swung open, and in an instant I had thirty wands pointed at me.
“Just me, gang.” To my shock, the one who stepped forward was Red, toting Julien Montmorency on their shoulder. He lifted his head, a bloody bandage covering his right eye, and grinned toothily.
“Yeah, that’s her.” I rolled my eyes, and snickers broke out through the crowd, wands lowering. I walked next to the two of them, catching up with what was going on in Hogwarts. Snape had been instated as the new Headmaster, and while he had to play the villain, I knew he was secretly on our side. The Death Eaters that had been replacing professors, however, were not, if Julien’s lost eye (and countless other injuries) were any indication. I circled up with the few that seemed to be in charge: Julien, Ginny, and Neville. The ongoing plans were (understandably) more concerned with getting food and medical supplies to take care of the wounded, which meant that I could either help them or cause enough problems in the castle to divert attention from catching them. I was in a very foul mood after having my ear talked off by an irate Lavender Brown, so I opted to be the worst nuisance to roam the castle’s halls, aside from Peeves. I squeezed out of the exit the Room of Requirement gave me (mean prick put me in a cubby), and oriented myself, swaying slightly as my magic eye took in my surroundings rapidly. Every few floors, pairs of teachers (or Death Eaters) patrolled by wandlight, though thankfully none were on this floor. At first I headed to Professor Flitwick’s lodgings, before stopping in my tracks and instead heading toward Ravenclaw Tower. As I scaled the steps, two at a time in the moonlight, I was struck with the memory of the first time I’d climbed these steps, as a first-year. For some reason I felt like this would be the last time I climbed the tower, and stopped in my tracks, descended back down a few steps, and started climbing again.
f*ck fate. I make my own luck. At the top, even after years of attending Hogwarts, I was still winded, and took a second before knocking, in which time I heard several muffled noises behind the door, including a swear. I drew my wand, and knocked rapidly, the knocker springing to life.
“Whom is the creator of Uric the Oddball’s theoretical Gravity-Switching-Spell?” I blinked, before a shouted “Crucio!” echoed through the door.
“Er, uh, me?” It chuckled, and nodded.
“Well spoken.” I burst through the door, wand out, expecting the worst, only to find, to my surprise, Professor McGonagall and Harry Potter standing over two unconscious Death Eaters.
“Er, hello Professor…” McGonagall whipped around, wand out, but lowered it as she recognized me.
“Miss Ollivander?! What are you doing in this castle?!” I winced, and looked down.
“I’m here to, er, help? I suppose?” I glanced over at Harry, and hastily amended my speech.
“It was my idea for Harry and I to come here, Professor.” She glanced at Harry, then at me, before the faintest flicker of a smile tugged at her mouth.
“Miss Ollivander, I am quite aware as to how you both arrived, separately,” the sternness in her voice made me feel like I’d just messed up a Transfiguration spell, not broken into a castle, “so there is no need to cover for your friend, as noble as it may be. We may be in need of your prowess in battle, however, very soon.” I frowned, and Harry spoke ominously.
“Voldemort is coming.” I rolled my eyes, and as I did, I spotted none other than Luna Lovegood, underneath some sort of Invisibility Cloak. I sighed heavily as I realized she was hotboxing it, and looked back at Harry.
“Might want to wash that cloak once you get it back.” He frowned, before following McGonagall out of the dormitory. Once the door was shut, I waved my wand, turning the lights on, and turning to look directly at Luna.
“C’mon, Invisible Stoner, we’ve gotta get people moving.” She looked up, made eye contact, and blushed slightly before taking the cloak off, waving her hand slightly and squinting at me.
“Oo, look at your library!” I frowned, and turned, seeing that I was the closest one to the library shelf. On a comically large and empty shelf sat one book, a thin hand-made journal with twine holding the pages together, and, strangely, a rubber band holding it shut. I stepped forward, and reached out, shuddering a little as I realized that the binding was flesh. Not human, but rather dementor. It was icy cold, and I gingerly turned it over, the cover making my jaw drop.
“What does it say?” I gulped, and turned around to face Luna, who was in the process of instructing a few older students to evacuate.
“O-On the Dementor, by Ekrizdis.” She frowned.
“Who’s that?” I sighed, opening the book quickly and scanning the pages.
“He’s the one who invented dementors. He lived on Azkaban before the prison.” My eyes widened as several thoughts came together, along with what I was reading.
“I… I understand. I think. Oh, Merlin’s saggy-“ A loud cough covered the rest of my profanity, and Luna pulled me out of the dormitory and down the stairs, my face still stuck in the book.
“Luna, this is incredible. Somehow, Voldemort either knew about this journal, or—no, he works with the dementors, so obviously he knows!” She dragged me onto a landing, and sat on the ground.
“What are you talking about?” I showed her the pages, and explained as she read.
“Ekrizdis kidnapped those sailors because he was trying to find a way to cheat death. But, not enough Dark Magic was known yet to earn the desired effect. The dementors must’ve told Voldemort how to do it, and with our modern magic, he managed to make me.” She waved her hand, and I resumed reading, waiting for her to lead me on.
“Whatever. We need to get ready for a fight, you know?” We cleared the stairs as I reached the last section, almost falling as my heart practically stopped.
“Alright, if you’re this determined to fall over I may as well leave you.” I shook my head, finishing the section and closing the book with a snap.
“No need. I’m done reading. And I know what to do.”
Chapter 24: Final Showdown
Chapter Text
Voldemort was not one for being humble, it should be said. He marched a literal army up to the castle, strictly regimented by species, and came to a stop at the far end of the bridge, a faintly shimmering forcefield protecting the castle. From what I could see with my zooming eye, he drew a very old-looking wand from his robes, and with a shout, jabbed it into the forcefield. Thunder rumbled, and the ground shook slightly in the courtyard as fiery, red holes ate through the barrier, spreading like acid across the dome until it had all but dissipated. I drew my wand, and walked forward, alone. The bridge forced his numbers to bottleneck slightly, which worked in my favor, and we came to a stop around fifteen feet apart, at the middle of the bridge. I glanced over, spying a large patch of grass and bushes not far away, and turned my gaze to Voldemort.
“Hello, Dementor. Your mind is singularly clear.” My expression remained stony.
“I read a book you may have heard of. From some of my… ilk.” He frowned slightly before rapidly becoming furious.
“Impossible! It was lost, to time!” I held up my wand questioningly.
“Magic does exist, you know?” He snapped his jaw shut loudly, and I could tell that he was either about to scream or have a heart attack trying to hold it in.
“Shall we duel?” He composed himself, before thinking.
“Perhaps. But fate does not decree it yet. If you survive, then we shall duel.” With that, he turned on his heel, Death Eaters swarming forward in his place. They seemed to have been warned about me, as they kept their distance, but I pulled on the grassy knoll, using the theory I’d read in Ekrizdis’s journal to take the essence from any living thing, not just people. For some reason, this rush felt much more natural, not gross or evil, and I directed it into a diagonal slash that cleaved the entire first line of Death Eaters in half, as well as cracking the stone pillars beside them. I danced around their spells, hexes and curses whipping past me, blocking and dodging, looking for an opening when I could. Six more Death Eaters fell by a nasty modification of a Vivisection Charm, and the defenders began to return fire as other sections of Voldemort’s forces launched their attacks. I resolved to free up as many wands for other fights as I could, and used a half-Transfiguration to attach a Shield Charm to my forearm (which hurt like hell and would irreversibly scar me, but it's war, whatever) and charged forward, leaping off of a piece of stone and jumping high, landing behind the first two lines and jamming my wand into the ground, causing a blast of wind to either knock over or knock off the few near me, letting go of the Shield Charm and pirouetting, spinning my wand above my head, causing the blood seeping from my arm to harden into knives that flew at the Death Eaters, before ducking and sweeping my wand across the bridge, a line of white line appearing as I traced a semicircle. Once I lifted my wand, the stone rumbled, cracking and slowly opening up a gap where I’d drawn the line. It widened quickly, taking a few Death Eaters by surprise, and I jumped back behind a fallen pillar to catch my breath. The energy from the plants felt different than when I ate people’s souls, and I chalked it up to it being the alternative to stealing a human’s soul, so how could it feel worse, and peeked through the pillar with my eye. The Death Eaters were slowly building a bridge by using broken pillars, and I groaned, knowing I had to get back up and stop them.
Time passed like this until a group came to relieve me, as the Death Eaters on the far side had breached the castle. I darted back across the bridge and into the castle, searching with my eye for the fighting. It didn’t take long, a wall quite literally exploding next to me, and when I peeked through I saw two Death Eaters, facing away and dueling two very similar red-heads. I darted through, swishing my wand upward with my wrist, causing both of them to be beheaded, and jogging over to the two Weasleys, Percy and one of the twins.
“Appreciate the assistance. Apparently they’re having a rough go of it down by the boathouse, which is where we’re headed.” I nodded, eye rapidly swiveling to the source of a faint scream, seeing a room of students, plus a few adults, desperately fending off a group of Death Eaters. I darted off without a word, racing up the nearest staircase and sprinting down the corridor, rounding the corner to see a Killing Curse hit who I now recognized to be Sirius Black square in the chest. The familiar tinge of red descended over my vision again, and I swiped my wand savagely, immolating two of them on the spot and setting another one on fire. They rounded on me, spells flying down the hall, and I summoned a powerful Shield Charm as Professor Lupin exploded out of the room, quickly and furiously defeating the rest of the Death Eaters, before kneeling gently beside Sirius. I dispelled the charm and hurried over, taking a knee beside Lupin to shield him as he held Sirius’s body in his arms, looking down with a strangely confused expression.
“Professor Lupin?!” He barely acknowledged me or the Cruciatus Curse that narrowly missed him, instead weakly snorting.
“C’mon, Padfoot. Quit whatever prank you’re playing at.” I stood, and began dueling the approaching invaders, but all my mind could hear was Lupin pouring his heart out to Sirius, among the debris.
“Sirius, please, c’mon. It’s not funny any more. P-Please be okay. Don’t… I had to go to James’ and Lily’s funeral alone. I went to Peter’s memorial alone. Don’t—don’t make me go to yours too.” I channeled the emotion I was feeling into my magic, quickly decimating the attackers and returning to his side.
“Lupin, we need to go.” He sniffled, and shook his head.
“Do what you have to do, but I’m not leaving him.” I gave him a solemn nod, and after a moment of thought, left him in the hands of the three or so Hufflepuffs he’d been guarding, heading towards the boathouse. As I rounded a corner, I was nearly impaled by Hermione, who had an armful of fangs from what I suspected was the basilisk Harry had killed our second year.
“Blimey, try harder to kill me next time, eh?” She shook her head aggressively.
“No time. These things break Horcruxes.” I frowned, the concept unfamiliar to me.
“A what?” She thrust a fang into my hand, and shouted over her shoulder as she ran off.
“Thing—keeping—You-Know-Who—Alive—Break them!” I thought for a moment before tucking the fang into my back pocket and resuming my journey, arriving to find several teachers duking it out with a battalion. By the time I got to them, the Death Eaters had fallen, and I nodded to Professor Flitwick.
“Hello, Miss Ollivander. Are you alright?” I nodded, eye catching something over his shoulder in the boathouse.
“Yes. I’d heard there was trouble at the boathouse.” A lioness patronus appeared in front of us, and spoke in a rushed voice punctuated by the occasional explosion.
“Giant in the courtyard!” As one, the teachers darted off, and I returned my gaze to the boathouse, a sense of dread filling me as I slipped through the wreckage of the doorway.
I stopped far enough away to avoid detection, and watched as Voldemort and Professor Snape spoke about something or other, feeling a distinct building of tension from Voldemort. I was too far away to really understand what was going on, but the damn snake would smell me if I got too close. I quickly grasped the situation as Voldemort drew his wand, and surged forward, tripping and sliding down the gravelly embankment, flinging a hex through the window at Voldemort’s wand arm as he began to cast a spell. It missed, perfectly arcing between his arm and face (if he had a nose it would’ve been hexed off), but he stopped, and turned, right as I blasted myself forward with the Bombardo spell, smashing my body through the wall and landing between Voldemort and Snape, leaking blood from several different splinters and glass.
“Hmph. I should have expected as such.” I acted quickly, Summoning a random object and turning it into a Portkey as it passed me in the air, ducking and letting it smack into Snape’s face, teleporting him to the Headmaster’s office. I turned to face Voldemort, but was instead met with winding boat chains that, guided by his wand, quickly wrapped around me before I could intervene. He lifted me up, and out, over the water, an amused expression on his face.
“That’s the downside to every hero like you. Too focused on saving people.” I scowled, struggling against the rusty metal.
“Are you done? Or can we get this over with.” He smirked.
“Yet again, I appreciate your directness. Farewell.” With that, he dropped me, chains pulling me down, deep into the lake. I still had my wand, and could survive off of the vegetation in the lake, but it wasn’t going to be easy to get out of the chains. I wriggled furiously, trying to free enough of my wrist to cast a spell, managing just as I felt the chains impact the lake bottom. It was inky, but not quite pitch black, and I carefully waved my wand, snapping the chains one link at a time. Once I was free, I began the long process of swimming back up, a familiar face popping into my vision. The surrealness of the situation took me a bit out of it, and I waved to the squid, who turned a massive eye to me, inspecting me. After a second, it seemed satisfied, and a massive, slimy tentacle wrapped around me, the squid jetting off towards the surface at high speed. The water tore at my skin, and with a crash, the sounds of the battle returned as I breached the surface. The squid set me down on the shore, near the castle, and I waved again before tearing off through the grass. Luckily, the battle had fallen to a standstill, but as I burst into the courtyard, sopping wet, I realized why. Harry Potter was putting in the best acting of his life, but I could feel his fear radiating out from where his ‘corpse’ lay, at the feet of Voldemort. I shoved my way to the front, and stopped in my tracks as Neville’s head lit on fire. I was about to run forward when he moved, with grace that often escaped him, taking off the Sorting Hat (not sure why he was wearing it to begin with) and withdrawing a sword, lunging for the snake even as it struck at him. The whole courtyard was frozen as he dodged the fangs, and neatly chopped the head of the snake off, the only thing breaking my focus being Voldemort’s scream. I stepped out, squishing into the space next to Neville, who I nodded to.
“Heya, Siobhan.” I glanced down at the sword he held.
“Neat trick with the hat.” He was going to respond, but an enraged shout from Voldemort interrupted.
“ENOUGH! I have extended every olive branch to you, Ollivander. If you will not accept my gift, then this is where you die.” I moved a wet strand of hair out of my face, and scowled.
“Many have tried.” He slashed his wand, and the ground shook, stones ripping out of the courtyard ground and flying at me. I swung my wand like a pendulum, and the stones slowed in midair, before changing course and hardening into one boulder that rocketed towards him. He split it in half with a vertical swipe, and swung his wand around his head, stirring a thundercloud into existence above him. I waited until the bolt struck me, and converted it into energy, Apparating forward and tackling him, before Disapparating up into the sky, about two hundred feet. As we began to fall, we separated, firing jinxes and hexes at each other until he summoned a cloud of black smoke, which caught him in midair, leaving me to fall past him. I shut my eyes, and began repeatedly Apparating to various spots up above him, focusing very carefully on where I was Apparating to. I shot curses and jinxes at him from several angles, but he whirled around and blocked them, shooting arcs of lightning at me from his wand. I couldn’t keep this pace up forever, so I Apparated directly to him, and tackled him off of the black smoke cloud, pushing off of him with my feet as hard as I could. My gamble paid off, and it knocked the wind out of him long enough for him to knock into the roof of the Great Hall, crashing through as I fell after, stopping myself with an Impedimenta Charm as I realized that we’d just crashed into the center of the battle on the ground. He was up in an instant and dueling, lines of fire scorching the ground as they bounced off of a wall of ice I Summoned in front of me, which melted into a tidal wave that he scorched into steam. I ducked back as the ground split at my feet, a jet of steam bursting out, and barely blocked the curse he’d tried to hit me with while I was distracted. Knowing he was a better dueller, I lunged forward through the steam, sliding under a Cruciatus Curse and flicking my wand, trying to invert his knees, but he stepped out of the way, a Death Eater behind him screaming as his knees broke, bending backwards. I pushed myself up with my free hand, only to feel Voldemort’s hand around my neck (I shouldn’t have worn a turtleneck).
“A fair showing, but all must come to an end.” I scowled and reached out, placing the tip of my finger that’d been exposed when the glove ripped against his forehead. Before, when I’d fed on someone’s emotions, it was almost like a glass or jug of water of that emotion. When I began to eat the evil within Voldemort, it was closer to an ocean, rushing over me so quickly and strongly that it knocked me off of my feet. I was yanked out of the way, vision going in and out before I was overwhelmed, my last memory the sound of Voldemort screaming.
Chapter 25: Epilogue
Chapter Text
I slapped my hand down on my desk angrily.
“They have to understand that they can’t break a treaty like that. Even talking about it is bad luck.” Kingsley shrugged.
“Perhaps. But word is coming in from our sources today, so we’ll know more.” I nodded, and he left me to myself. I glanced up at the clock, and swore, jumping up and quickly gathering my gloves, coat, and hat before throwing a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace.
“Leaky Cauldron!” I arrived, sooty and smiling, to a table full of old club members, who raised various glasses and pitchers at my arrival.
“Her Highness arrives!” I reddened, and sat down, Remus standing with a glass in his hand.
“It has been some time since the Battle of Hogwarts. But, what took place was more than just You-Know-Who against Siobhan. It, fundamentally, went back to the Antis versus the Allies. That’s what started all of this; a group of people deciding to stand up for themselves, to claim their place in the world. From just a Hogwarts club, we changed the world, both ours and Muggle, for the better.” A Muggle sitting at the bar, wearing a tracksuit and drinking a beer, raised his glass.
“And it is in no small part thanks to you, Siobhan.” I raised my glass, and we toasted, before Jack leaned forward.
“I hear there’s a Muggle invention called an ‘electric car’ that’s getting popular. I’ve only just gotten used to gas engines.” A few snickers sounded around the table, and I took a sip of my drink, smiling.
-Fin
Siobhan Ollivander will return in Lacuna, Volume 1: Student Body Pantheon
