Allie's POV
I was never really friends with girls until I met Venus.
That's not to say I was the kind of girl that shunned any other female just because—I love Kira, and I sat with Hermione almost every day during her first year before she became friends with Harry and Ron. So, while I've talked to and been friendly with girls, I never really considered myself friends with them.
Now, sitting on the sofa in the Hufflepuff common room across from Julian, I realize how much Vee changed me. These past few months have been odd without her, to say the least. Julian and I were by ourselves for several years before we met her, but our dynamic has changed completely now, and with her gone I just feel strange.
"I knew we were going to be friends," I say, lazily flicking my quill around. Julian is supposed to be helping me with Herbology. He isn't. "That first day, on the train, I could just tell."
"Mind if we sit here? All the other cars are full," Julian says in a high voice—I can't remember who said that so I'm not sure if he's mocking himself or me. He smiles a little, looking down. "If she was nervous for her first day, you couldn't tell."
I shake my head, grinning. "All three of us are confident, sure, but she is in a different way. I mean, she has her insecurities like everyone else, but she doesn't cover them up by being arrogant or selfish. She always cares about people."
Julian is silent for a moment, his smile fading. "I like to think that's what's getting her through this. That she's coming back to us."
Nodding, I take his hand quietly. He flushes, and I grin. "Julian Bainbridge, is that a blush I see?"
"All thanks to you, sunshine," he replies instantly, and I flush again.
Eventually, we get back to Herbology and he finishes it for me. It's moments like these when I remember exactly why he's a Hufflepuff. He strokes my hair—almost subconsciously, I think—as I write out my work, pointing quietly at a mistake and grinning when I correct it with no prompting from him. He kisses my forehead when I'm finished and then walks me back to Gryffindor Tower, excitedly discussing in hushed tones what information we should tell Vee about first ("Yes, Allie, I know the Order is important, but don't you think Vee would care more about the fact that the kitchens are no longer supplying blueberry muffins unless by special request?" The answer, by the way, is that Vee would definitely care more about the muffins.)
"Okay, here we are," I say, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to the girls' dorm.
"It might let me up this time!" Julian protests, glaring at the stone staircase. As much as I wish it was an old wives' tale, it is true that the stairs turn into a slide if guys try and go up—most of the time.
Julian stretches, exhaling hard as he jumps up and down. He pauses for a moment, and without warning he squats and jumps up to the third step, teetering on his tiptoes as he waits for the inevitable. It doesn't come. Triumphant, he stands on the staircase, having defeated it, and marches me all the way up to my door, saying goodnight to me.
I grin and say goodnight back, closing the door behind me as I tie up my hair. All of a sudden I hear a loud crash coming from the end of the hallway, and I fight the urge to laugh because I know the sandy-haired boy who's just gone shooting down the slide-staircase will hear me as my giggles ricochet off of the stone.
**
"Now?"
"Yes, now, Ms. Yaxley. I wouldn't advise you to waste your time dilly-dallying," Filch sneers, his bony fingers wrapped like icicles around my upper arm. I've been approached in the Great Hall and asked—no, told—that I have to go and be questioned by Umbridge, and I was more than happy to comply, until I looked over and saw Harry staring blankly into space, no doubt thinking of nothing. The combination of the interrogation and the Occlumency lessons must be getting to him, as I'm sure they would for any person, and I'm not looking forward to submitting to the same questioning.
I look over at Julian, the twins, and Angie. "And if I say no?" I ask slowly, weighing out my options.
"Well, I have other methods that can be a little more... persuasive," Filch says, snickering a little and making my stomach churn.
"Then it would be my honour," I tell him, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Eyes burn holes into my back as I walk past the Slytherin table, and I hear whispers coming from the direction of Draco Malfoy and his friends—when I look over, he grins and I glare, making his smile drop from his face quickly.
We walk up to the DADA classroom and Filch roughly pushes me to the front of the line of other students, all cowering fearfully against the stone. I stand at the top of the stairs outside Umbridge's office, and when I turn to look at the students behind me, I spot a number of people from Dumbledore's Army, as well as students I've never even seen before. Just as I try and catch the eye of some of them to give them a comforting smile, Filch's arms wrap round my shoulders and thrusts me into the bright pink office.
The walls are decorated with china plates with a cat in the middle, each of various size and colour but all of them grotesquely plump. They meow and lick their paws contemplatively, and I think with disdain: not even the cats will save you now. I avert my eyes and turn to Umbridge, who sits gingerly atop her desk, holding her hands as if she's afraid to even touch anything in her own office. She smiles sweetly at me, but her eyes don't change.
"Hello, dear," she says.
"Alaska," I reply sharply.
"Hm," she says, frowning as she picks up a piece of parchment beside her with two fingers. She scans the parchment with her finger, but by the way her eyes move so slowly I know she's found what she's looking for and she's just putting on a show. "It says here you go by Allie."
I tilt my head, my stomach churning with anger. In this moment, I feel a sense of hatred that I've only ever felt for Voldemort and my father, and I suddenly want to scream. Instead, my expression turns hard and cold. "My friends call me Allie. As I said—you can call me Alaska."
"Oh," Umbridge says, standing and turning away from a moment, tutting as she goes. "Now, dear, you shouldn't talk back to your elders."
I wonder briefly what Vee would do here. She always seems to just narrowly avoid trouble and control herself. Me on the other hand? "I'll give my elders respect when they've earned it."
Umbridge turns around again, and while I'm expecting to see something like a machete in her tiny, claw-like hands, instead I see she has a cup of tea. She twirls the spoon around the rim of the pink china almost contemplatively before offering it to me. "All I want is to just have a little chat, dear."
I stare at her warily. I have no intention of drinking the tea, but perhaps me being standoffish was the wrong approach. I've heard about how cruel she can be—I've seen Harry's hand, after all—and I don't want to do anything that could risk revealing any information about Dumbledore's Army. I take the tea and put it carefully in my lap. "What do you want to chat about?" I ask, playing nonchalant.
"Well, as I'm sure your aware, there have been some—shall we say—rumours swirling around here at Hogwarts. About a certain club, you see. Have you heard anything about this?"
"Women in Herbology, you mean?" I ask, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Uh, you didn't hear it from me, but I heard they're planning to campaign to remove the Venomous Tantacula from the curriculum. Apparently the use of profanity to make the plant loosen its grip if it seizes you from behind has been scaring the younger students, but personally I think that Gregoria Wincott just doesn't like telling a plant that it's a twat."
Umbridge is taken aback, but she recovers unfortunately quickly. "If you're being so loose-lipped about Women in Herbology, then surely you wouldn't mind telling me more about this other club?"
"Right! Of course. How silly of me."
Umbridge smiles and nods, awaiting my response. "Do go on."
"The Wizard Chess club is plotting to take over—"
**
Standing in line and waiting to enter detention is scarier than imagined, especially when Harry is nowhere to be found.
I was in the woods for Care of Magical Creatures when Filch arrived and ordered that I and a few others were taken up to the castle, and as soon as I saw who I was going with my heart sank. Kira shook her head at me, either to say no, she didn't know who, or no, it wasn't her, but someone has exposed the Army.
I was taken straight here, to line up in the hallway with almost every single member of the Army. Someone look stoic and unaffected by our punishment, while some are visibly shaking—the thing is, we weren't taken anywhere and told that we were getting this punishment because we were in the Army. We were just taken here, and we haven't been allowed to leave.
Finally, Harry arrives, escorted by a number of students from the Inquisitorial Squad who sneer at us as they walk past. They shove him into the line in front of Julian and I, and luckily Fred and George are also fairly close. I tap him on the shoulder. "Harry," I hiss. "What happened?"
"Cho," he whispers back, his face scrunched up. "It was Cho."
It is then that he explains that he was taken into Dumbledore's office where it was revealed that it was Cho who revealed the details of the Army. Then Harry tells us that Dumbledore is gone.
"Dumbledore is gone?" George exclaims, and immediately whispers ripple up and down the line. George looks sheepish, but the rest of the Army deserves to know, especially since we have no idea what we're walking into with this punishment.
"He disappeared with Fawkes to avoid Azakaban," Harry whispers.
"Coward," Fred mutters under his breath. I can't say I disagree.
"What good would he do for us in Azkaban?" Hermione hisses, appearing beside Harry. "Think about it—Dumbledore is, as always, doing what's best for us."
"Meanwhile," I say, "we're left to do this."
We turn our eyes forward as the Inquisitorial Squad walks past one more, monitoring for any signs of activity. Goyle shoves me with his shoulder as he walks past, and I grit my teeth. Perfect timing—the doors to the Hall have opened and they're beginning to file us in.
The room has been transformed for exams, with rows of tiny wooden desks covering the floor and a large desk and chair at the front for whoever's in charge. My stomach sinks. Who is in charge? My question is answered soon enough when Filch offers the big chair at the front to Umbridge. "For you, Professor," he says, trying to smile but turning his mouth into a grimace.
Umbridge snickers. "It's Headmistress now, Mr. Filch," she says smugly, loud enough for all of us to hear. We all go still. Those of us that heard the story from Harry may have expected it, but others may not have been lucky enough to prepare themselves for the news. "Now, children, you all know why you're here. Let's get to it."
**
I stare blankly at my hand, now a mess of white scar tissue. I feel nothing.
"Here, Allie," Julian murmurs, gently pressing a small circular tub of balm into my hand. "Professor Sprout helped Neville and I mix it. It makes the pain go away."
I shake my head. "Give it to the others first," I say. "They need it more than me." I'm right. When I look up from my seat at the table in the Gryffindor Common Room, it's filled with other students from the Army, all cradling their hands gingerly. Some cry softly, while others openly sob, the pain too much for them. Mine is mild.
"Allie..." Julian says, and trails off.
"Julian," I say firmly, looking him in the eyes for the first time since the detention. His eyes are watering, but he blinks back the tears of pain. His scars are bad. "Finish putting yours on, and I'll help apply it on the others. Thank you for wanting to help me, but honestly—it doesn't hurt."
I wonder dimly as I watch Julian leave and crouch beside the Patil twins if Vee has been through something like this—or worse—in the last few months. Who will she be when we get her back? If, my brain reminds me. If we get her back. If Voldemort got to her there's no telling who we'll find—and that's if we can find her soon. I feel another twinge of anger, this time for the Order's refusal to help. Lupin's refusal to help.
Standing, I walk over to Julian and scrape half the balm from the tub, putting it in my palm. I walk around and offer it to people, and I'm relieved by the reprieve I'm able to give them. I give some to Lee, who joins me in applying it on people; Lee has this amazing connection with a lot of the younger students that I could never give them. I check and see that Lee is also helping the twins and Angie before going over to the back corner.
"Hey, buddy," I say, and my little brother unbows his head. "Does it hurt?"
"Only a little," he says, shrugging slightly. Jupiter only ever attended a few meetings since I didn't want to get him too involved, but I knew he wouldn't let me keep him away—and I didn't want to do that. Anyway, Cho must've said something about the younger students not going as much (probably because she knew the punishments and wanted to keep them out of it as much as possible—and it's not a lie, either) so they were given different quills and didn't have to write as many lines. Jupiter's hand is red and angry, but not cut up, and I count my blessings.
"Here, take some of this," I say, and take his hand, rubbing a little of the balm onto it.
He grins. "This is cool stuff," he tells me. "My hand feels better already."
"Julian made it," I reply.
"Juliaaaaaaaaan," Jupiter repeats in a sing-song voice, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Your boyfriend."
"Yes, my boyfriend, Ju," I reply, whacking him lightly on the arm. "You two play wizard chess all the time and we spent Christmas and summer at his house, don't act like you're only just finding out about him now!"
"I know, I just like teasing you," Jupiter says, giggling. His smile fades a little. "Does your hand hurt?"
"Not a bit," I tell him, and it's true. "It may not look pretty, but at least I don't feel it."
I talk to Jupiter a little more until I finally put the remnants of the balm on my hand. I didn't think I was in any pain, but as soon as I apply it a dull ache I didn't know I was feeling disappears, leaving me more exhausted than anything else.
Slowly, everyone goes to bed, including Jupiter. We're all so shocked at what happened today, and fearful of what will happen now that we don't have the Army—people are too tired to come up with a plan. Eventually just my friends are left, and we huddle around the fire. "What do we do now?" Julian asks.
"Should we look for another place to practice?" George asks, but he knows what the answer is.
"Nowhere is safe now that Umbridge is officially in charge," Lee says. "She's watching everywhere. Besides, we can't risk putting everyone through that again."
I lean back against the sofa, rubbing my face with my hands as I shake my head a little. "We have to continue our search for Vee. Look, if Umbridge saw the board behind the mirror before she destroyed the room, she knows Vee is alive and near. I don't know exactly what that means for her or us, but it's got to be bad news," I say.
"Where do we look?" Angie asks.
"Maybe..." Fred says slowly, sitting up a little. "Maybe we don't look for her."
"Sure, another person to say cryptic messages and wait for us to ask what it means," Julian says exasperatedly but in a joking tone. "Spill it, Weasley."
"Let's assume for the sake of this conversation, that she's free," Fred says.
"Just in hiding, or travelling," George adds. "Not with You-Know-Who."
"What if she's just waiting for us? To tell her that it's safe for her to come back, I mean."
"It's not safe, though," Lee says, furrowing his brows. "Did you not hear what we literally just said? Umbridge is everywhere and may have eyes out for her."
"Safer than out there," Fred fires back quickly. "Merlin knows what's going on in the real world, and I don't want to know. We may be under authoritarian rule here, but at least she's safe."
"Hogwarts is the safest place to be right now," George admits.
Lee sighs. I can tell he doesn't like the idea of bringing his sister to a place like this, and I feel the same way as I glance at my scarred hand. I do agree with Fred, though. It may not be safe, but it's safer than where Voldemort can easily get to her. Rolling my head to one side I see the white pages of the Daily Prophet, and suddenly I have an idea.
"Let's leave a message in the Prophet," I say.
"What?" Angie asks, confused.
"Think about it—the Prophet is the only newspaper we have access to right now because of the censorship, and if Vee has any idea about Umbridge, then she's smart enough to guess our situation."
"If I know anything about her, she would read it all the time, just to get riled up about Rita Skeeter," Harry says.
"Exactly! Plus, we could ask them to do, like, a happy birthday message to someone we know or something on the back page for announcements—a secret message, maybe," I say, sitting up as the wheels really start turning in my head.
"They'll let us because they'll take any chance to broadcast that things are going as normal under Umbridge's rule," Hermione says, Ron nodding enthusiastically.
**
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