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"So. Responsibility, eh?"
"Anyone notice the Hat's song tonight? Was it just me or was it a little less cheerful than usual?"
"All our seventh-year students, being seventeen or over, will be eligible to vote for the next Minister of Magic."
We decided it was high time to revive the Duelling Club days, and are opening up a new Club for all interested members on Wednesday nights in the Entrance Hall, beginning at 8pm. Due to the complexity of possible spells and for safety reasons, the club is at this point only open to students 3rd year and above. If you are interested please see Rose Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy, Jeremy Nott or Alyssa Rutherford of Slytherin to put your names down.
“As a nod to our fathers—or more, the fathers of the likes of Rose—the name will be abbreviated to D.A, which stands for Dragons Awakening—taken from the translation of our thousand-year-old school motto and showing that we, the next generation, are rising up, and awakening.”
“That’s what makes it hard. We can’t accuse them of using Dark magic unless we’re certain of it, and we can’t be certain if we didn’t hear the incantations or see the effects, no matter how highly tuned your intuition is, Jem."
“They’re our best friends, Scorp,” I say quietly. “Do you really think any idea of my mother’s could change that?”
"We could fall. We could lose all we have, all our ancestors have achieved, if this goes ahead. I don’t need to remind you how high the stakes are. So I ask you all, are you willing to do whatever it takes?"
"There’s no trace of Dark magic. Which means our work here is done, and a report will have to be made to the Ministry. A hate attack on a wizard by a Muggle—we haven’t had one of those in two hundred years.”
“This,” Natalia says, picking it up from the floor, “Is a Portkey, and it’s leaving in thirty seconds. Good thing you were prompt.”
It’s pandemonium in the Hall; students have leapt up onto tables shouting, copies of The Voice of Reason are being hurled everywhere, as I watch Riordan and Antigone clamber onto a table, joined almost immediately by a number of DOWIAH members; they’re shouting something and slowly but surely hundreds of students take up the chant: “Muggles Are Murderers! Muggles Are Murderers! Muggles Are Murderers!”
“They can’t hold it against us. We’re allowed to have our own opinions.”
Pushing the Boundaries
Luna looks at me with a trace of sternness in her soft blue eyes. “I miss my boys when they’re at Hogwarts,” she says, “And I know they’re coming home. I love my boys whether they believe in the same things as me or not, whether they join me in looking for Wrackspurts or stand aside thinking I’m insane. I love my boys even when they hate me. And Ginny is no different.”
A New Reality
“Patronus Charms,” Professor Malfoy says. “Used to repel Dementors, Lethifolds, and sometimes even as a messaging system.”
"Please, raise your hand, anyone who has ever sat in Defence Against the Dark Arts and asked either yourselves or the person next to you, or, even more impressively, your professor, that age-old question, ‘When are we ever going to use this in real life?’”
The Point of No Return
"The fact is, I told you we’re going to be fighting the Dark Arts. And to fight the Dark Arts you need to be prepared for the worst. Tonight, you’re going to learn to fight the Imperius Curse."
“Lumos Maxima!” I shout, and the Atrium explodes with dazzling light. The intruders are not only wearing cloaks, but masks as well. There’s something terrifying about fighting the faceless.
“Professor McGonagall, he said something about my daughter, what happened to my daughter, what happened to Lily?”
“Scorpius,” I whisper, stuttering slightly. “Something just happened there, and I don’t know what it was…”
I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve her caring about me like this, if only she knew why I’m here, what I’ve done, who I’ve become, she wouldn’t be here, sitting beside my bed all through the night and day waiting for me to wake up.
“Hermione,” Ginny says urgently before anyone has a chance to speak.
“Did you hear her say Hogwarts?”
“We aim to avenge Medea’s death,” Octavian replies, eyes blank and devoid of emotion. “And to discourage the Ministry from ever entertaining the notion of lifting the Statute again.”
“So we’re fighting,” Scorpius says, absently waving students through the door. “Honour Guard, escaped convicts and Dementors. Should be fun.”
She continues through the names of everyone in the One Hogwarts army, and they file out of their seats and onto the stage, where Hermione presents them with their medals. The Hall erupts into applause as soon as all the students are on stage, and the school stands as one to its feet.
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