February had sunk its frosty teeth into the castle walls, and yet the corridors of Hogwarts buzzed with an oddly sharp energy. It might've been the news—the mass breakout from Azkaban still lingered on everyone's lips, even though the Daily Prophet was careful not to show panic. Ten prisoners gone. Ten. The front page had burned itself into my eyes the second I saw it.
"High-security escapees," they called them. I didn't need to read between the lines to know exactly what kind of people were out there now. My father had sent me an owl the next morning. "Do not worry," he wrote. "All is as it should be."
That letter still lay folded in the bottom of my trunk. I couldn't bring myself to tear it up or read it again.
And Broderick Bode—strangled by a bloody plant. Devil's Snare, they said. Harry had told me about it in a quiet moment, something oddly fragile in the way his voice fell when he spoke of the Department of Mysteries. An Unspeakable. Someone who knew things.
Someone they wanted gone.
I was sitting in the Great Hall, legs tucked up under me, pretending to be immersed in a copy of Advanced Transfiguration. Around me, people murmured and laughed, but my ears only picked up one phrase again and again—Azkaban. Azkaban. Azkaban.
A new decree had gone up that morning. I had barely glanced at it when it appeared on the notice board, written in Umbridge's sickly sweet scrawl.
— BY ORDER OF —
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts
Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach. The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twentysix.
Signed:
Dolores Jane Umbridge
High Inquisitor
It was a warning dressed in pink lace.
Daphne dropped into the seat beside me. Her cheeks were red from the wind outside, and her gloves were still half on.
"Still hiding in here?" she teased softly. "The snow's not going to kill you, Celeste."
"Not worried about the snow," I murmured, not looking up.
Daphne gave me a knowing glance but didn't push. She never did when I didn't want to talk. It was one of the things I appreciated about her more than anything.
We'd gotten closer than ever since Christmas. I'd spent most of January avoiding Harry—not out of malice, but because I didn't know how to face him without remembering that flicker of him awkwardly asking Cho Chang out in his memory. I wasn't supposed to care. I knew that. But knowing didn't change how hollow my chest felt whenever our eyes accidentally met.
He'd noticed, of course. How could he not? The trio noticed too, though none of them brought it up. I only ever spoke to them at D.A. meetings now. Professionally. Tersely. I was still committed—I wouldn't let something like... this ruin what we were building. But I kept my voice neutral, my answers short. I stuck close to Daphne. She made it easy.
The D.A. had grown stronger by the week. Harry had become a better teacher than any of us could've expected. Even Hermione said so—more than once. We were practicing advanced jinxes and shielding spells now, and some of the Gryffindors had taken to keeping score on who could block spells the fastest. I still held second place, just behind Harry.
YOU ARE READING
human again / hp.
Fiksi Penggemar"I already forgave you, so why can't you forgive yourself?" She's a Malfoy. He's a Potter. Celeste Malfoy has always walked a fine line between the world she was born into and the one she chose for herself. At Hogwarts, nothing is simple. Not friend...
