Murmurs
With each day the overwhelming hatred grew. More complaints were coming in, but there was no name to put behind the crime. When there were, at best, the culprits would get detention for a week and then relapse the hour after they were let go. Some students were let off without punishment, and many professors remained ignorant of the school's student population's faults and played them off as harmless pranks. Andromeda and every other student knew it was something more- it was only a matter of time before everyone else did too.
Murmurs of dead man words and wise man cautions circulated the school. You could guess who was quoting who. Purebloods paraded the idea around of their superiority, as always, although it was an old philosophy they were reviving. The river runs pure, it was only a small excerpt, but a strong mantra that hasn’t been heard in many years. Its origin was founded by Archmagus Gaunt back in the 1300s, anything more about the document was lost on her. All she knew was what she had once heard from her parents and nothing more.
The negativity grew in alarming strength after Hogsmeade. Andromeda didn’t know the correlation if there even was one, but it seemed to her there was. If something had happened in the private alleys or dark corners of the shops, she was oblivious to the conversations sung in the dark. She could only go on with her day with the knowledge that the dread that pooled in her stomach wasn’t going away anytime soon.
Violet had called an emergency meeting for all prefects that morning. They were all miserably tired, except for the two head students and some Ravenclaw girl who clearly had one too many cups of coffee. Andromeda never understood why the host of the meeting would expect everyone to show up on time except for themselves. She would say Violet was roughly five minutes late to her own meeting, and when she walked in, she appeared to have just rolled out of bed. Everyone turned to face her as she hurriedly made her way to the front of the room mumbling apologies for being late. Around her, the other prefects filled the silence that enveloped the room with whispers and coughs.
There was an ahem from Violet to catch everyone's attention, “If we can begin.”
In Andromeda's opinion, her aggravation was misplaced. It was embarrassing to have a superiority complex after you attended your scheduled meeting late. After the whispers continued, and a few scoffs were heard, Violet, louder this time, coughed, “As you all may have heard,”
All, but one pair of prefects were silent, “Selene. Ivy.”
The two girls looked up and shut their mouths at the call out. Violet gave a slight nod and continued, “Like I was saying, as you all may have heard, there have been some- disturbances, happening around the school. Dumbledore has asked me to forward some new guidelines that prefects will be following in the next few weeks to try to eliminate these issues.”
Ezra, Violet’s lackey, passed out new parchments that had a revised schedule on them. On the front, much like the usual schedules they receive at the beginning of the month, she had the schedule drawn and starred. This time, the only difference was a list of new rules the prefects were to enforce. Another thing Andromeda noticed was the longer paroles around the castle. There was a notable sigh heard across the room from multiple students.
New terms for Prefects:
1. Prefects must report any misconduct to the head of the house or the headmaster himself. Collect all reports on parchment and deliver them to the head of the house or the headmaster himself in the early morning. Each shift should be reported, no matter the lack of misconduct.
2. Paroles will be extended to prevent misconduct that has been happening at strategic shift changes or shift endings. Prefects will have school-sanctioned late notices in preparation for their later shifts.
3. If the misconduct is rendered severe by the prefect, it must be reported immediately to the headmaster. The prefect will then write down their encounter for eyewitness evidence to determine the severity of the misconduct and how the school should proceed with student punishment.
4. If prefects fail to report or are found guilty of committing one of the misconducts, they will be removed from their position and punished as seen fit.
New terms of misconduct:
1. No student shall be roaming the corridors past curfew, with the exception of a professor or headmaster’s permission.
2. No student shall use terms that cause mental or discriminatory harm to another student no matter their status.
3. No student shall recite old testaments nor revise old testaments that have since been forbade by the ministry for its prejudiced findings.
4. No student shall practice spells learned in class upon other students if it alters appearance, speech, memory, healthiness, or any other spell that is considered a “prank”.
Reminder: New terms of misconduct can be added whenever the headmaster sees fit. If any student or faculty has suggestions, they may seek out the opinion of Dumbledore himself.
“I know- I know, the new conditions are less than ideal, but as prefects, we must help professors to enforce these. If you have any questions, ask now, if not you are free to go.” Ezra stated as he went to stand next to his counterpart.
***
Over the next few days, there had been no reports of misconduct, well at least no reports relating to the new terms. If there had been, Andromeda hadn’t heard a word about it. Tonight was her first shift and with any luck, she’d have the same experience. She hadn’t expected to give much mind to her paroles more than what she had before, so she wasn’t worried about how the night would go.
Her shift began at nine-thirty that night. Before she left, she grabbed a roll of parchment and a self-inking quill that she shoved into her robe pocket. The castle was cold at night, but she’d gotten used to that after her first five shifts, it made her dread every night she patrolled. Now she dreaded it more than ever.
The corridors were always dark, lightly illuminated by the few candles that hung by the paintings. Some of the windows were propped open and the red velvet curtains swayed in the cool wind- another reason why it was always cold inside. As always, the only noise she heard was the sound of her dragging feet and the slight whistling of an old portrait. He was always up in the wee hours of the night causing disruptions to the other paintings around him, but he kept on whistling anyway. Andromeda didn’t mind.
As the night went on, nothing happened. She wrote no notes on her parchment and sent no students back to their dormitories, it was a silent night just as predicted. Sometimes, when it would get later, and she grew more tired, Andromeda would find a windowsill to read in for a few minutes. Tonight, she found particular comfort in the window overlooking the courtyard just beneath the clock tower. The quiet stillness of a popular area was comforting and allowed her to enjoy the beauty of the small landscaping.
She opened her stolen copy of Charlotte's Web. It was childish, but it kept her fascinated. Maybe it was the idea of it being written by a muggle or the idea of doing something she shouldn’t. About five minutes into reading, she heard a snap coming from across the corridor. When she looked up from the book, she saw nothing but moonlight and picture frames. The noise happened again, but this time she made eye contact with a portrait of a lanky man dressed in silk blue pajamas. He furrowed his brows as he began aggressively pointing toward a curtain a few feet away from her. Andromeda peered around the corner of her nook then back at the man and gave him a confused look. This time the man made an upward gesture with his hands then stomped to the right of his painting and pointed again. She sighed, bookmarked her page, and got up.
Andromeda crept closer to the curtain. Sure enough, the portrait was right. With the curtain moving in the wind, it revealed only parts of students hiding behind it, sitting on an adjacent windowsill. She pulled out her wand and whispered “Lumos.”
When she got within grabbing distance of the fabric, Andromeda coughed to let them know she was there then said, “I know you're back there. You can come out now.”
There was no movement toward leaving, so she did the only thing she could think of. Andromeda pulled back the curtain. What sat in front of her was what she was hoping a dream or even a nightmare, she didn’t care which one. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were snogging each other in the window. It was rather romantic, kissing in the moonlight that is, not her witnessing her sister making out with a boy. When the two noticed, Lucius jumped up looking almost embarrassed, while Narcissa huffed angrily. Andromeda was quick to apologize, “Cissy, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t bother. Just leave me alone Andromeda.” Narcissa spat, then immediately turning on her heels to storm off, “Lucius.”
Lucius followed at her command. It took until Andromeda couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore to process what happened. She stood there shocked and somewhat amused with what she witnessed. Andromeda couldn’t find it in her heart to write them up for this, not her sister.
Once she shook the sight from her head, she decided she would at least finish the rest of her patrol. The last corridor she had yet to check was just up ahead, and once she checked she could finally go to bed. As she approached the final corridor the same portrait snapped again. When she looked at him, he shook his head no. Andromeda brushed it off as judgment for what happened before instead of a warning. It was a warning she should have heeded. When Andromeda turned the corner, she was met with a cloud of fog appearing as a serpent. As the cloud rushed her, she fell back, knocking the air out of her. Her breath was jagged, and her movement was staggering as she quickly got up to defend herself. But as she glared around, the fog had seemingly disappeared. A defense spell.
As she looked back at the hall the serpent was guarding, her heart dropped. At the end of the corridor, on the wall ahead, hung a dead snake with a dagger piercing its skin. Below the carcass was a steady, but uneven trail of blood running the length of the wall. Written in what she could only assume was the snake's blood, The river will run pure again. It had never occurred to her that all the murmurs would lead to elitist propaganda, especially in a school with a varying student population.
The first thought she had been to tell Dumbledore, instead, it was to walk away as if she’d never seen it. If she were to go to the headmaster about it, she would be betraying her people and her family, but if she didn’t, she could be removed from her position as prefect and the propaganda continues to increase until they can’t control it anymore. With the man in the painting watching over her, she couldn't walk away, he had seen the scene unravel, so after running her hands through her hair while sitting up against the wall for a while, Andromeda ran to Dumbledore's office.
As she approached the door, she stood in front of the golden phoenix and said, “Sugar quills.”
The bird spun around revealing a spiraling staircase leading up to the top of the headmaster's tower. She didn’t have a total sense of urgency, but she knew the effects of what she witnessed. By the time she reached the top, she was struggling to catch her breath, for a magical school, you’d think they’d have a better way of getting up to high places. When she approached the wooden door, before she could even knock, the door flew open. Dumbledore stood in light blue robes and stepped aside hurriedly ushering Andromeda in.
Andromeda stared at him in bewilderment, “How’d you-”
Before she could finish, she was cut off by Dumbledore nodding up toward a portrait, “I believe you two have met before.”
The man with the blue pajamas from the painting was no longer in the corridor, but now in Dumbledore's office. Andromeda scowled at him, not because he beat her there, but because he was annoying her. She breathed heavily through her nose before saying, “Then I suppose you already know what I’m going to say.”
“I do.” Dumbledore smiled fondly, “Although Mr. Pickett can be an unreliable narrator at times, I would like to hear what you saw from your perspective, Ms. Black.”
Her eyes down casted as she struggled to find the words, “I’m not sure what I saw sir.”
“I’ve been alive a long time Ms. Black. Not only have I taught your family, but I was also a fellow student with many of them before. So, if you feel you cannot speak out, I will understand why, but do not underestimate the gravity of the situation.” He spoke earnestly and never took his eyes off her once. Dumbledore paused for a brief moment. She didn’t know if he was waiting for her to respond or just letting what he said sink in, whatever it was, he interrupted the thought with, “Whatever you say here, stays with me and only me.”
Andromeda took a deep breath and rolled her eyes, “And the portraits.”
He chuckled, “And the portraits. Although I doubt any of them are listening.”
The inner turmoil she fought down in the corridor was back. Standing in front of a man who holds enough power to change the life of any student or family was enough to hesitate. If she were to report what she saw, in full detail, would be a family sin. Andromeda would be betraying her family's ideals. Whether she believed or followed those morals anymore was up to debate, but she wasn’t ready for that battle quite yet. For now, she kept quietly reserved compared to her kin and that was enough for her. But would it be enough for everyone else? Would it be selfish to keep to herself?
“It was a verse from the Purest Doctrine sir. The river will run pure again.” Andromeda kept her gaze on the wall behind Dumbledore, “It was written in snake blood beside a hanging serpent with a trail of blood. There was a defense spell used to guard the corridor. Another serpent.”
Dumbledore nodded. His demeanor shifted from comforting to alarming, “Thank you, Andromeda, you may head back to your dorm.”
As she turned toward the staircase, she looked back at Dumbledore anxious rubbing her hands together, “And sir, can you keep who found it a secret.”
“Of course. Whatever you say here, stays with me and only me,” he reassured.
***
The next evening, Dumbledore called for a schoolwide announcement. With the previous night's events, she prayed he would keep his promise. Instead of dining tables, the Great Hall was now lined with hundreds of benches. At the front of the hall, a golden bird stand was at the center with Dumbledore waiting for the students to finish filing in. Usually, the dining hall was filled with light and laughter, but today only a glim feeling loomed. No lit candles or sun rays were sneaking through the windows, just dullness.
When the hall finally filled, and the voices became hushed, Dumbledore spoke, “This message is late coming, but it’s a message I need every student to hear. As your headmaster, I intend to be honest with you all, and if at any point I am not, I shall not be your headmaster anymore. I have always believed in full transparency and that is why I have called you all here today. Late last night, our school was defiled with a phrase from a very old, harmful, doctrine. That will not stand here at Hogwarts. This school is a haven for witches and wizards of every kind and if it were to make any student uneasy, Hogwarts is no longer a school run on the simplicity of being wizards together, but on hatred. You must heed my warning, there is something dark entering our walls. I am not asking you to fight back, but I am asking you not to stray from the path we are on. A path of solitude and goodness. I am working diligently to find whoever threatened your freedom, along with every professor who stands up here with me today. Please entrust us with your safety, because there is nowhere safer. Before you go, remember what I have said today, but don’t let it scare you. You all may go on with your day.”
Throughout the speech, Andromeda sat uncomfortably shifting in her seat. Her eyes were stuck on the front of the room, and she hung onto his every word. There is something dark entering our walls. She could feel Narcissa’s eyes on her, trying to whisper something, anything, to get her attention, but Andromeda didn’t want anything to do with it. When he concluded his speech, they locked eyes, and it felt like she was pinned to the back of her seat until she was the very last student to leave.