The Marauders: Year Two | #Wattys2016

Talk of Resistance

Talk of Resistance

The deaths were beginning to become a near daily occurrence. Students took out subscriptions to the Daily Prophet and the papers were passed about the house tables with an air of nervousness as people read over the articles describing the latest battles fought against the Dark Lord. Everyday, there were lists of names of witches, wizards, and muggles who were victims of the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters. Breakfast was punctuated by the sounds of people crying out, recognizing a name or two, of tears and talks of how someone knew this person or that person. Now and then, it would be a family member that had been killed and someone would be lead out of the Great Hall by their head of house to grieve. The Great Hall seemed emptier than usual as people travelled home to attend funerals or were pulled from the school by fearsome parents who thought their children would be safer at home than at the school.

"Bloody idiots," said Derek, shaking his head when he heard that Alex Tinnamin's folks were thinking of having him come home early, rather than allowing him to finish the term. "Haven't they noticed there hasn't been a single attack made at Hogwarts? It's so well protected, Voldemort would never dream of coming here."

Alex shrugged, "They're worried about the Tournament, too," he admitted, "With the American President of Magic and the Minister both there, they're afraid it'll be too good a target for Voldemort to resist."

Bilius sighed, "We can't stop living our lives!"

Alex sighed, "I know that, but try telling my mum that. She's gone mad with worry."

"I'll say she has," Derek said, "What about graduating? You'll have to take seventh year over if you leave now."

Alex's voice was heavy, "Mate, you're preaching to the choir!"

The entire world seemed to have lost their minds in the grips of the fear overtaking them, though. Every letter that was sent by owl was searched thoroughly, and the school went onto absolute highest alert, fearful of any attacks that may be made by Lord Voldemort. Even the faculty seemed on edge. Professor Blythe had shouted at Sirius for doodling during class. "This is ruddy important!" she had snapped at him, "What you learn in this classroom could literally save your life out there in the real world - don't you understand that?"

Only Dumbledore seemed as cool and calm as he ever had.

The only thing that seemed to distract the terrified Hogwarts students from the war was talk of the Tournament. The first was coming ever closer, the arrival of the Ilvermorny students imminent. The school was being polished from dungeons to turrets by Argus Filch and the north tower had been prepared to be a sort of make-shift dormitory for the visitors. Derek was seen out on the pitch with the All Star team nearly everyday, flying and practicing, preparing for the tourney that was coming up, and always there was a small crowd in the stands. Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter were all regulars, along with Frank Longbottom, Lily Evans, Ali Prewitt, and Bilius Weasley. Several others from other houses were there as well, like Xenophilius Lovegood from Ravenclaw who always cheered too loudly, and several teachers including Chriselda Blythe. It seemed with everything that was going on in the world, Quidditch had become the point 'round which everyone gathered to have fun and clear their minds of all the darkness. Talk of the tourney filled the school halls as the excitement built.

The full moon came and went. While Remus was gone to the Shrieking Shack, the boys checked on the Draught of Change in the Secret Room, but not much seemed to have happened with it in the first month of brewing - which was good, according to the book - and they continued working on their silent spells. "You know, it would be a lot easier if Remus could help us," Peter pointed out one night as they stood around the dormitory, trying to move a feather without speaking aloud. None of them had managed the skill yet. "He could probably do this in just one go."