Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin

Chapter 41: The Hunting of Sirius Black (It Gets Worse)

The Great Hall
27 March 1994
10:30 a.m.

It had been several hours since the Deputy Headmistress had reconfigured the Great Hall in an unprecedented manner. For the first time in perhaps a thousand years, students in the Great Hall were not grouped by Houses. Instead, they were segregated roughly into three groups. The largest (about half the student body crammed into one side of the hall) consisted of those students in the grip of the Ultimate Sanction, which had apparently extended its reach from just Theo No-Name to everyone who supported him. Those supporters (Muggleborns and Halfbloods with a smattering of "blood traitors") made up a third of the student body and were situated on the opposite side of the hall. Separating them was a No Man's Land of people neither affected by the Sanction nor moved to openly support the Outcast.

And perhaps most prominent among the denizens of No Man's Land was Harry Potter, who sat at a small table, reading quietly by himself. Blaise Zabini was sitting with the CPS students, which was troubling, but on the bright side, he was sitting between Ginny and Amy, who were Harry's spies within the Pureblood group.

Having completed all his assignments, Harry was working his way through The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde while trying to figure out why it had once held Tom Riddle's interest. Nothing had jumped out at him so far, though the number of witty Wilde quotes that seemed hauntingly familiar was disturbing. His reading was interrupted by a soft bell-like sound emanating from his book bag. He opened it up and, after a few seconds of searching, produced a crumpled piece of parchment with a message in Hermione's neat handwriting on it.

Hermione: Hello, Harry. Come in, Harry. Over?

Harry chuckled and looked over at Granger's table some fifty feet away. The witch was waving at him while sitting at a table with Theo, Jim, and Ron. He pulled out a quill to reply.

Harry: I'm here. I'd honestly forgotten about this thing. We haven't used it all year. I'd have assumed the magic had failed by now.

Hermione: I know. I'm taking every class that you are plus we're in a club together, so we haven't really needed any extracurricular communication this year. I was a bit surprised as well to see it still working. I suppose there's so much ambient magic at the school that Switching Spells last much longer. So, how are you feeling?

Harry: Still a bit queasy. And also embarrassed. I don't actually remember calling you that word last night. But I remember the shocked look on your face after I said it. I know it wasn't my fault, but I still feel bad about hurting your feelings.

Hermione: Well don't. It was a silly prank done by bigots, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about.

Harry: Not just bigots, though. Some of them are people who had nothing against Muggleborns before the Sanction happened. Do you know if Neville was in on it? Because that could be ... unfortunate.

Hermione: I don't think so. I saw him last night when people were coming back from the Infirmary, and he looked appropriately horrified.

Harry: That's reassuring, I suppose.

Hermione: Also, did you just add ellipses to a written message for emphasis?

Harry: ... Maybe?

The next image to appear on Harry's parchment was a small drawing of a face with eyes whose eyeballs were looking up.

Hermione: You probably can't tell, but this is me rolling my eyes at you.

Harry: Emotions are hard to convey through parchments, I suppose. You should invent a special language for parchment communication so that we can properly convey subtext to one another.