The Teen Rebels and the Tentative Truce
Hermione led the Gryffindors to an empty classroom a few doors from the Potions room. Nobody spoke until the door was firmly shut.
“Feel like we need to mark this on some history calendar,” Ron said as he rubbed his eyes. “We had Slytherins coming to us for help, openly admitting we were better at something, and asking us to PROTECT them!”
“The whole thing is mad,” Seamus said firmly. “It’s gotta be a trap!”
Tricia Snow, the sixth-year prefect, shook her head.
“I’ve known Gertrude for years, and she’s never been prejudiced like most of the Slytherins. I don’t think she’d be involved if this were a trick.”
“ONE decent Slytherin doesn’t excuse the others,” Katie Bell argued. “I mean, look at Malfoy!”
“Right, he and the others won’t just turn off their Muggle-born hatred overnight!” Dean agreed. Like Hermione, he’d been tormented about his upbringing for years. “How d’you think it’ll go if one of them ends up in a safehouse with one of US?”
“Could we trust them if Dumbledore did?”
“Doesn’t Dumbledore trust everyone, though?”
“–doesn’t mean they won’t bring one of their Death Eater parents along to a safehouse, though–!”
“But if they prove themselves to Dumbledore–”
“–could be telling the truth now but turn on us when things get rough–”
The debates continued, and Hermione rubbed her eyes. She wanted to believe Bletchley and the others, but her classmates were right. The Slytherins were so inexplicably out of character that it was suspicious, even though it was logical.
The idea of all their generation banding together to survive, regardless of house affiliation, warmed Hermione’s heart. But it didn’t stop her inner voice from snorting at her to be realistic.
Ron was across the room participating in various debates while Neville listened on. Harry slid into the seat next to Hermione.
“What’re you thinking?” Hermione asked Harry softly.
Harry bit his lip. His mind was spinning. He’d barely considered that an oncoming war might require such a thing as safehouses. He vowed to do more research on the last war, to find out what Voldemort’s tactics had been and try and stay a step ahead. Maybe Sirius and the others would finally let him ask the Order more …
The Slytherins’ approach to the war was intriguing to Harry. Perhaps as he’d nearly been a Slytherin himself, he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be doing right now if he weren’t Harry Potter. Offering to protect the less dangerous side of the war without completely betraying the other did sound smart.
“I reckon if they were gonna try to trick us or something, they wouldn’t be doing it like this,” Harry decided. “There was around fifteen of them in there, all from different families and years, and it would’ve been pretty complicated to put together a group like that out of the blue unless they were serious. Even Crabbe and Goyle …”
Hermione nodded, understanding his train of thought. She’d seen the two wizards feigning interest in almost every class or fake laugh when Malfoy’s jibes lacked imagination, and they were utterly transparent. Yet today they simply stood solemnly among the others. If the Slytherins were initiating a complex plot, surely Crabbe and Goyle would’ve been kept safely out of the room where their lack of acting skills wouldn’t be a liability.
Hermione sighed. “I don’t want to be naïve, but I feel like they were genuine. Their demands were reasonable, and they’ve offered to give us some information–”
“Is that it, though?” Harry ventured with a frown. “They’re mostly underage … they can’t possibly know that much. And what else are WE getting out of it?”
“Well, for starters, we won’t have to face them on the other side,” Hermione said dryly. “Especially not if some of them convince their parents to go into hiding as well! This could greatly reduce the amount of Death Eaters, realistically, since quite a few of them were from Slytherin. And I suppose … well, if Dumbledore issues emergency Portkeys to the Slytherins, then they might end up at different safehouses all over. We won’t exactly let them hide in the cellar if any safehouse is compromised – they can help defend us in exchange for sanctuary. Ultimately we get more wands on our side, even though they’re calling themselves Grey.”
“I guess they’ll be decent if we teach them,” Harry reasoned. “We could spend the summer learning better Shield Charms, protective enchantments, maybe even Fidelius Charms–”
Hermione nodded.
“I suspect the reason the Order’s safehouses were better protected than the Death Eaters’ is because our side has more people that trust each other.”
Harry snorted in agreement. “Right, I can’t imagine Lucius Malfoy or Goyle or Macnair casting a Fidelius for their mates.”
“Lupin and Sirius will help us with training, and perhaps even Snape,” Hermione continued. “I know you were concerned about him being a double agent, but we know how much he cares for his own house. If we agree to protect the Slytherins, I believe Snape’s loyalty will no longer be a question.”
“Pretty sure I’ll always question it,” Harry murmured with a smirk. “He’ll always be a slimy bat.”
Hermione gave him a light nudge but let it go. She started to tune back to the other conversations in the room.
“They didn’t give us any proof,” Dean insisted again.
“But that part has to be up to Dumbledore, right?” Tricia ventured. “I don’t expect the Slytherins to make an Unbreakable Vow with US–”
“Would Dumbledore make one with everybody, though?” Angelina wondered.
“That might not even be possible, I thought you could only make one–”
“Maybe not if you’re Dumbledore.”
“What about Veritaserum?”
“It’s really hard to make.”
“But Dumbledore’s got other ways, right? Could he tell if they were lying?”
“Is an Unbreakable Vow really hard?” Harry muttered to Ron as the debate continued. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Takes two willing people and a third person to be a Bonder,” Ron answered in an undertone. “Fred almost tricked me into it once, but Mum stopped him, even though it probably wouldn’t’ve worked. Supposedly takes a pretty decent amount of magic to activate it, otherwise kids would do it all the time and then be stuck for life in these weird little vows. Same reason you can’t perform Unforgiveables unless you mean it, I reckon.”
“What happens if you break a Vow?”
“You die,” Ron said simply. “Sorta fool proof, but that’s only if they all make one with Dumbledore.”
“Dumbledore trusts people easy, though,” Harry admitted. “Is there any other way we could be sure this alliance isn’t a trick?”
“Dunno,” Ron’s brow furrowed. “Snape might’ve lied to Umbridge about being all out of Truth Potion, I guess … Or maybe Dumbledore’s got some other way.”
Harry thought about how the older man had been avoiding him all year.
“He probably won’t bother telling us about it if he does,” he mumbled under his breath.
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Eventually Hermione put a stop to the debates and led her committee back to the Potions classroom, but it might’ve been a bit too soon.
Five or six small arguments quickly broke out between the students while Hermione and a few others tried to mediate. Eventually the minor disagreements about the war quieted in favour of the central argument: why should the Gryffindors even bother protecting the Slytherins, who had treated them so badly for years?
“–we really owe you anything?”
“If this was reversed, would you snakes protect US?”
“It’s not like you treated US like your best mates, either!”
“That’s not the point–”
“We’re not asking YOU for any favours!”
“… not OUR fault you’re not properly trained to protect yourselves!” Seamus said firmly. “Why should we risk our own lives just because you lot were too weak to bother–!”
“Asking for sanctuary doesn’t make us weak!” Warrington countered loudly.
“But if you’re not willing to fight AT ALL then how do we know you’ll help defend us if the safehouses are attacked?” Ron countered at the same volume.
“How else are we supposed to prove ourselves, Weasley?” Malfoy demanded. “We’re HERE, aren’t we? We’re willing to subject ourselves to your advice and have you talk to your almighty leader on our behalf, so isn’t that enough to prove we’re capable of tolerating your lot?”
“What makes you think we’re willing to tolerate YOU? It’s no thanks to people like YOUR father that this war’s starting up in the first place!”
By this point, every other argument in the room had tapered off. Everyone was frozen, listening to Ron and Malfoy.
“Well,” Malfoy said lowly. “The Weasel has teeth. But you’re forgetting that MY housemates are at a higher risk in this war thanks to the prejudiced bias from people like YOUR father–!”
“PREJUDICED? You should talk about prejudice, Malfoy, with your snotty rich–!”
“–practically begs to be called blood traitors! They were happy condemning MY family–”
Ron’s face went bright red. “Don’t you DARE talk about my family like that–!”
“ENOUGH,” Hermione scolded fiercely as she stomped between the two wizards to put a stop to the escalating verbal battle. “Ronald, put your wand away! Malfoy, your tone is unacceptable! You can’t offer us an alliance in one moment and insult us in the next! Do you genuinely want assistance from us, or do you simply intend to find more excuses to belittle and bully us while we put ourselves at risk on your behalf?”
The look in her eyes was clear: she was not asking rhetorically.
Malfoy got a pink tinge in his cheeks, and he sensed rather than saw Theo shooting him a sideways look.
He took a breath but managed to reply confidently, “I shouldn’t’ve needed to remind Weasley that he’s part of the pure-blood minority discriminating against all Slytherins when we never had another choice! If we weren’t desperate enough to subject ourselves to this … this show of weakness, we’d probably all be either enslaved or wiped out in the next year! You think any of us LIKE this? Tell me we’ve got any other option besides subjugating ourselves to the Ministry or begging you Gryffindors for help, Granger!”
“Begging?” Harry couldn’t help pointing out. “Demanding our help, more like.”
Malfoy scowled at him.
“We’re not about to drop to our knees and prostrate ourselves before the Boy-Who-Failed-To-Die. This is the best you’ll get. An offer of mutual tolerance.”
“There,” Hermione said, throwing her hands up and turning to look at Ron with a finite look in her eyes. “Can you agree to that, Ronald? Mutual tolerance?”
Ron grumbled but Hermione stared him down and he eventually nodded his head once.
“Good,” she said firmly. “And don’t forget, ALL of you, that this entire discussion is about US and not our parents!”
“But that’s the problem,” Dean said with a frown. He stepped forward to confront Malfoy and waved a hand between himself and Hermione. “Forget your parents – you’ve hated people like us since the first day of school! Are you seriously willing to form this alliance and not turn on us?”
A few other Gryffindors added their agreements, and the phrase “prove it” popped up a few more times across the classroom.
“We already said we’d make promises, but to Dumbledore,” Bletchley reminded the Gryffindors sharply before addressing Dean. “If he agrees to protect us then the alliance stands. We won’t raise a wand to any of you during the war, blood status aside. Provided none of YOU attack US first,” he added, half under his breath.
“You’ll swear not to harm us during the war?” Katie clarified disbelievingly. “Well, that might be fine and dandy, but what’s your plan after the war, then? How can we be sure you won’t start up a different movement to wipe out us blood-traitors and Muggle-borns once you no longer need our help?”
Bletchley hesitated, and the Gryffindors immediately looked suspicious.
Harry frowned. He hadn’t considered … was this whole thing a way for the Slytherins to survive Voldemort’s war and then just start another one under their own terms? One they could WIN?
“We’ve learned from our parents’ mistakes,” Nott said quietly from the back of the room. “Even though You-Know-Who wanted a world of pure blood, we’ve lost more pure-blood lines over the last generation because of him, so we don’t trust his methods anymore. Frankly, the list of Sacred Twenty-Eight decreased to more like Sacred Nineteen. That’s why we, as the next generation, are taking matters into our own hands.”
Hermione and the others shared a few looks. Harry wondered if she’d reached the same worrisome conclusion he did.
“What exactly are you gonna DO, then?” Ron asked boldly. “Hide with us, wait out the war, and then just pop back into society to repopulate all the pure-bloods and start hating the rest of us again?”
“We don’t deny we didn’t think of it,” Bletchley said with a weak smirk. “But those of us who studied Arithmancy have followed population trends over the last few generations. Let’s imagine we get every pure-blood from our generation to safety and begin to repopulate after the war; it would take ten generations for us to populate the country with pure-bloods alone.”
He looked pointedly at Katie. “So, there’s part of the proof you wanted: We have no reason to turn on you lot, ‘cause one way or another we’d end up losing. Whether we like it or not, we NEED you, and it’ll stay that way even if we win the war. The Dark Lord doesn’t want to acknowledge that without half-bloods at least, we pure-bloods could die out in a few more generations, and that’s only if he lets us survive!”
Harry watched Hermione go still as her proverbial wheels turned. She turned to share a glance with Tricia Snow, a fellow Arithmancy student.
“Their logic is sound,” Tricia said slowly. “Last term we looked at population decline. Before the first war there were usually around a hundred new students each year at Hogwarts – but for the past few years there’ve only been thirty or forty. We calculated that it would take about fifty years to regain the numbers lost during the eleven years You-Know-Who was in power. It’s only been fifteen years since, so we’re not even halfway there.”
“And those numbers don’t consider purity of blood,” Gertrude Rosier chimed in. “Anyone with old family blood knows that we carry unique magic, and we DO want to preserve the lines.”
She looked meaningfully across the room. Ron and Neville shared a glance and then exchanged a look with Alicia, another pure-blood. She bit her lip and looked at Hermione and Harry, who both seemed confused.
“They’re right,” Alicia relented with a sigh. “You studied Runes, Hermione, so you know about the historical significance of certain bloodlines. The Merovingian, for one, plus the Hogwarts founders, Pendragon, Medici, or the Le Fey bloodlines; their blood carries magic that could activate runes and enchantments that nobody else could, among other things. Preserving the ancient bloodlines and family magics is important.”
Hermione noted Harry’s and Seamus’ baffled looks.
“I expect it’s the same way that only the Heir of Slytherin could open the Chamber of Secrets,” she conceded. “Blood can have unique magical properties – and perhaps it’s not always a good thing – but there are secrets of the wizarding world that might be lost forever if some bloodlines disappeared completely.”
She didn’t see the flash that moved across Nott’s eyes at the back of the room.
“But that’s no excuse for them to go right back to pure-blood superiority!” Harry argued. “Isn’t that what they’re saying–?”
“No,” Hermione and Alicia answered along with a few of the Slytherins.
Hermione shook her head. “No, Harry, preserving old bloodlines doesn’t necessarily mean only marrying other pure-bloods. They just want to prevent bloodlines from going extinct.”
Ron murmured, “Like, during the last war both our uncles – Mum’s brothers – were killed and the Prewett line technically died with them since we’re Weasleys and not Prewetts.”
Hermione added, “And because of population decline, there’s already fewer in our generation, and preserving any lines will only work if we minimise potential losses during the war. I expect that’s a large part of the reason so many of you have turned Grey?” she added at the Slytherin side of the room. Several nodded back.
“Okay,” Harry conceded, but he still eyed Slytherins suspiciously. “So, you lot want to preserve your bloodlines by not dying, then–”
“In short, yes,” Bletchley said. “Granger’s right, this is a big part of why we’re having this conversation with you instead of joining the Dark Lord. But in the long-term, we recognise that our parents’ dislike of Muggle-borns and half-bloods has become obsolete. If our generation is to preserve the old bloodlines AND repopulate to our former numbers, we can’t simply ignore one-third of the population that exists right now. I myself have already issued an offer of engagement to a half-blood witch, because I’ve known for a while it’s not in my best interest to marry a pure-blood, no matter what my parents want.”
Harry felt oddly impressed at the admission. Behind Bletchley a few other Slytherins were nodding – including Tracey Davis, who was a half-blood herself if Harry remembered correctly – but a couple others, like Malfoy, still looked unhappy.
Angelina Johnson piped up from the back of the room, “Are you seriously renouncing your hatred of Muggle-borns?”
Crabbe frowned and Malfoy was still pouting, but Gertrude Rosier shrugged.
“As I said, not all of us disliked Muggle-borns. My gran is one. My grandfather married her because she was a brilliant witch – now I’ve inherited his bloodline, and her skills. I got the best of both worlds, just as Miles and Cassius will now that they’re engaged to half-bloods.”
“Satisfied, Thomas?” Malfoy drawled.
Dean frowned but chose to look at Hermione, who did seem satisfied. Malfoy’s half-hearted acceptance of the situation was overshadowed by the rest of the group. She was comfortable asserting that Malfoy was not the best representation of the Slytherins anyway.
“Alright, I think we’re at an agreement?” Hermione asked, taking a step closer to Bletchley. “We stipulate an alliance with your self-titled Grey Wizards; we will appeal to Professor Dumbledore to protect you and we’ll help you learn more defensive magic next term. In exchange, you’ll assist with protecting our safehouses, you will not raise a wand against anyone on our side, and you’ll provide us with any information you can about Voldemort’s dealings.”
There was a tiny flinch at the name, but Bletchley nodded and took Hermione’s proffered hand.
Well, that’s it then, Harry thought with mixed feelings. We’re allied to the Slytherins now–
The attention of both houses was unexpectedly drawn by the appearance of a silvery phoenix which floated easily through the classroom door.
A Patronus …?
Harry noticeably started, concerned at the possibility of Dementors. He didn’t expect the phoenix to speak, much less with the unmistakable voice of their missing Headmaster.
“Kindly make your way to the second floor, where Professor Snape will escort a representative for each house to the Head’s Office.”
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It was already near curfew, so there were no stray students to gape in confusion as a large crowd of mixed Gryffindors and Slytherins travelled the corridors silently without animosity.
Harry’s mind was spinning. Dumbledore was back … so, was the battle over? Had anyone been injured?
Harry’s fingers itched for the mirror that he now knew would connect him to Sirius.
The corridor in front of the stone gargoyle was empty but for Snape. Harry led the crowd anxiously, all former distaste for Snape on hold, but when they reached the silent man, words failed him.
Snape had certainly looked sombre and despairing before – most notably the night Voldemort had returned – but Harry had never seen the Potions master like this. His eyes were drawn together, forming a line on his forehead tighter than anything Harry had ever seen.
He hesitated to speak, wondering if Snape was about to burst out in a rage of fury … or burst into tears.
Was he stone-faced like this because someone had been killed?
“Professor,” Bletchley stepped forward, undaunted by the look on Snape’s face. “We’ve explained the situation to the Gryffindors. Hermione Granger is their representative.”
Snape’s eyes flickered to Harry for a split second, and then to Hermione, who raised her chin boldly.
“We’ve conditionally agreed to the Slytherins’ request for an alliance. We will require a conversation with the Headmaster before any action can be taken.”
Snape didn’t even speak. He simply nodded his head once, and the look he gave to the remainder of the group was plain; they all settled themselves against the walls, leaving just Hermione and Bletchley by the stone gargoyle. Harry gave Hermione a look of confidence before joining them. Snape glanced at him again; Hermione supposed he’d expected Harry to be chosen as the representative.
Privately, Harry wondered if Dumbledore would be able to make eye contact with Hermione where he’d been failing to do so with Harry all year.