For What It's Worth
13:15
Marlene McKinnon did not think she was imaging the tense bubble that seemed to encase the seventh years who were spread about the Great hall.
It was the first day of the last year and things already seemed wildly different.
From her position atop the Gryffindor house table she had a clear view of the space, houses clustered tightly next to their respective eating areas.
No red ties could be see with yellow nor green with blue, of course, the owners of the green ties usually kept to their own so that was no surprise.
However, it was the edginess of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff that truly unsettled her.
It was possible that the academically inclined Ravens were simply dwelling on the mysterious project the head master had summoned them all to discuss, more work to add to their daunting final year, but that did not explain the reactions of the normally friendly Hufflepuffs who were eyeing both Gryffindor and Slytherin suspiciously as if any minute they would start flinging hexes at each other.
Marlene elbowed the witch seated on the table next to her, who had up until that point been engaged in a spot of concentrated nail painting.
The witch, Mary McDonald, looked up annoyed evidenced by the downward twist of her plump lips.
“Oi” she said, “you smudged my polish!”, shoving her long, red, now slightly smudged nails into Marlene's face as evidence.
“Sorry!” Marlene responded, hastily grabbing Mary’s fingers and vanishing the smudged spots with her wand.
“Better?”
Marlene took Mary’s hum as affirmation, then pointed towards the house grouped at the tables by the entrance hall.
“Do you think the Puff’s are acting a bit funny?”
Mary leant forward and squinted her eyes towards where Marlene was pointing, seemingly perplexed.
“They do look shifty” she offered, “maybe they’re hungry?”
“They are not hungry” Marlene said irritably, before scrutinising the group again, “they’re not just hungry in any case”.
Marlene paused for effect, which was wasted on Mary who was determinedly starting on her other hand, “I think they're scared”.
Mary looked up at Marlene and arched her brow dubiously, “Scared?”, she echoed.
“Yes, terrified.”
“Of?”
“Us”
Mary’s dubiousness turned to deep scepticism as she rolled her eyes at her blonde friend.
“Your dead on Marls, its not this project we know fuck-all about that’s making them nervous or” she waved vaguely in the direction of Slytherin house “those twat’s, who shoot hexes off like they’re trying to meet a quota. It’s me and you, blood traitor Gryffindor’s”.
“I feel like your being sarcastic.”
Mary chose not to dignify that with a response.
“it’s true!” Marlene continued, “Not of us of course, rather of having to side with us”
“Go on..”
Marlene could tell from the look in Mary’s face that she had finally captured her attention, excited by this she unleashed the theory that had been slowly building in her brain since last year.
“Do you remember way back before fourth year when the houses were not as divided, we were mates with the Hufflepuff's because they had hash and threw good parties, while the Ravenclaw’s favoured the Slytherins because....”
“They’re both social anoraks?” Mary offered.
“Sure! it was only until the Slytherins showed their true disgusting colours that things started changing. We choose to defend the school while the Puff’s and the Claw’s, who really have the least in common out of all of us, started sticking together out of necessity.”
“They do try to out stay out of our fights” Mary said, “the ones who can at least” she added darkly.
Marlene nodded her agreement, “That’s another part of it, eventually they’ll all have to choose a side. Just some of ‘em will have it chosen for them. For the Hufflepuffs it should be more obvious because they have the fewest purebloods-”
Marlene paused, taking a breath to eye up the Ravenclaws, they were tense but not as divided as the other factions, with a few even drifting over to mingle under the snake embossed banners.
“-The Ravenclaws on the other hand...”
Mary seemed unnerved by this, "You don’t actually think they would join up with the snakes do you?”.
Marlene was uncertain, she couldn't imagine many of the scholars in that house were eager to directly subjugate muggleborns however, would they stand by and allow it to happen, possibly.
Especially considering the ministry, which was revered by the blue and bronze house as the ultimate institution, was allegedly being slowly corrupted by blood supremacists.
As her classmates aged their factions and actions, previously innocuous, seemed more and more to be a mirror of those outside the school walls.
She was about to voice these thoughts to her friend, when Dumbledore with his usual timing, strode through the doors to the dining hall.
13:30
Dirk Cresswell was trying and rather failing to be unimpressed at Dumbledore's ability to capture a crowds attention.
His mere entrance caused a hush to fall over the previously buzzing hall, whilst his casual amble from the front doors to the elevated podium was tracked by dozens of eyes.
When finally he arrived at the podium, he did not begin to speak immediately, choosing instead to take a moment to survey the students before him.
“My dear seventh years” Dumbledore said, after a pause that went on slightly too long to be comfortable, “I trust you all are well and that you are keeping spirits up during these rather trying times”.
Dirk snorted to himself, not noticing the strange looks his fellow Ravenclaw's sent his way as he did so, trust Dumbledore to describe the beginning of a wizarding civil war as a ‘rather trying time’.
“My sincerest apologies for interrupting your newt study hours however, my belief is that the opportunity I can extend to you will make it worth your while. A few decades ago, myself and a few members of the former faculty, worked in conjunction with the school board to introduce a capstone project. This project was offered to seventh years as an additional NEWT that year, all who participated received grades corresponding to their success much like in your examinations. one particularly enterprising group was chosen to have their project passed along to the ministry and implemented.”
At these last words, he calm sea of silence in the student body began to swell.
Dirk’s grade grubbing housemates were already splitting off, enthusiastically whispering about the possibility of another ‘Outstanding’ level Newt or even better the opportunities in the ministry that awaited the most successful group.
He could not even blame them for their swottishness, he too felt something rise in his chest at the mention of this curious project- hope.
Dirk had long kissed goodbye his dreams of securing a position in the ministry as anything other than a low level drudge and with the way things were heading, he was beginning to wonder if even that was going to be impossible.
Now however, maybe things could be different.
Who cares that he lost out on the Head boy position to Barty Crouch Jr. of all people, or that statistically ninety-three percent of ministry employees had legacy positions, this project could make his dreams possible.
Dirk cast an appraising glance at those around him, there was only one snag, finding a group may be harder than he anticipated.
It was not as if Dirk was disliked by his house members, he just was not very well liked either, he was fairly sure they find him intense and slightly off putting, even by Ravenclaw’s standards.
Dumbledore surprisingly had to clear his throat to recapture the attention of the excited students.
“I am glad that the idea enthuses you so however, I will request that you merely allow me a few more minutes of your time.”
He continued voice carrying across the now once again silent hall.
“The project subject, of course, has been until now a mystery, allow me to unravel it. During times of great division the solution that is often overlooked, is to look to the youth but when the youth is divided as proportionally as the society we urge them to mend...what then? In the school’s purview, there is only one path forward, to unite them.”
Unaware or uncaring that the excitement had been slowly replaced with a wariness, Dumbledore spoke on.
“This project will be completed in groups of four, each student a member of a different house, you will work to answer the question, is there a better alternative to the current sorting system? If the answer is yes, the winning idea will be sent to the ministry for approval and eventually replace our dear old hat”.
The hall erupted, hissing from the Slytherins, shouts from the Gryffindor's, Boos from the Hufflepuffs and a general air of disapproval from his own house.
Dumbledore merely smiled benignly before raising his voice to be heard over the din,
“I hope you will not think me impertinent if I say, I believe this opportunity is going to be quite revolutionary, for more than a few of you”.
Bowing his head in thanks, Dumbledore made his way tranquilly from the podium and out the door, despite his calamitous surroundings.
Looking at the scene around him made Dirk sure of one thing, Dumbledore had succeeded in uniting the houses, unfortunately they were united against him.
13:45
Florence Fawley was honestly quite taken aback by the current behaviour of her house, her lovely friends, normally so placid and content were stamping up on down on the table like a rampaging herd of centaurs.
Of course, Florence was as much of a badger as the next Hufflepuff but she simply could not grasp why the mere mention of a change in sorting systems would cause such anarchy.
And in the midst of it all, poor old McGonagall, trying to regain a modicum of control, someone really ought to help her, Florence thought.
Suddenly McGonagall’s was obscured from Florence's view by a rather large frame, she looked up only to realise the frame belonged to her sweetheart Ludovic Bagman, he was looking down at her rather exasperated.
“Ludo darling, what can I do for you?” Florence questioned, suddenly quite oblivious to the commotion, now that she was focused on his sandy face.
“Flossie! You are aware that we’re the Hufflepuff prefects?” he said with an exaggerated slowness, as if talking to a child.
“Of course Ludo” Florence said perplexed, “I’ve known since fifth year, we were together when we get our badges, it was really a wonderful day. Do you remember what we did after?”.
Ludo who was turning slightly red, nodded, his face morphing from exasperation to fondness.
“Of course Flossie” he said softly, taking her hand and helping her up from her seat.
“What I meant was, don't you think we ought to go help McGonagall?” he continued, pointing out the frustrated witch, who even with a charm was struggling to project her voice over the crowd.
Florence rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, he could be so dotty sometimes.
“I have been thinking that this entire time, it’s you who’s been distracting me!”.
Ludo simply shook his head at her, with a bemused expression before they hastened over to join their professor.
Thankfully by the time they had gotten there, Dorcas Meadowes, who was the Head girl had cast an enlarged ‘silencio’ that seemed to effect radius rather than individual, it was an impressive bit of magic but Florence was not too surprised; everyone knew how great her magical capabilities were.
Despite that, Florence sometimes got the sensation that Meadowes was not always taken seriously by her fellow students, more specifically her fellow Slytherins.
She didn't like to think about why.
During these thoughts, Florence had been watching Dorcas rather intently, entranced by her spell casting because of this she got rather a jolt when Ludo came to tap her on the shoulder.
He signalled that they should return to their seats, she nodded and followed him.
As control or more fittingly silenced had been regained, McGonagall was able to speak, her angry Scottish burr bouncing around the hall much more abrasively than Dumbledore's dulcet tones.
Her speech too was much more simple than Dumbledore, as she stated that anyone who, objected to or wished not to participate in, the project should leave.
The shuffling of roughly twenty bodies was strangely silent as if half their year had suddenly decided to take up the art of mimery.
When the mummers had left, McGonagall looking somewhat anxious at their loss in numbers, continued to extrapolate.
She outlined how the groups would be decided and started to call out names.
When Florence’s name was not called in the first few groups, her mind began to drift. In just a few moments she was strolling arm in arm with a girl friend, it was a carefree day, one with sparkling sunshine and dewy grass, the day after a storm.
This was a favourite daydream of hers.
They were ambling around Hogwarts's verdant grounds with no particular direction, they’re lazy gossip and the lap of the Great Lake the only sounds that could be heard.
The voice that reverberated around the space however, was different, it was not as shrill and girlish as her own or as that of her friends.
It was languid yet sonorous, its tone as melodious as the patter of rain.
While the voice was pulled exactly from memory, the scenario was an unfamiliar one; as Florence pictured herself almost cuddling Dorcas Meadowes.
Who she had up until that point not spoken a direct word to.
Yet, Florence knew she wanted that level of intimacy with the standoffish Head Girl.
It was not as if she lacked friends, the opposite was true, still she was often struck by almost feverish desires to dissect those who eluded her; to understand them fully and completely. Meadowes was the biggest enigma in the school, the perfect final project for Florence before she left school completely.
14:00
Honestly the project was the last thing on Regulus Black’s mind.
He had chosen to opt in of course, appearances had to be maintained, it would have been suspicious for someone so previously academic to have rejected such an opportunity.
Yet, a part of Regulus knew he would probably not even get the chance to sit his newts, let alone participate in a year long project.
Things were changing outside the walls of Hogwarts, in the face of all that was happening school seemed trivial.
Nevertheless, Regulus saw no reason to skip the group allocations, he was mildly curious to see who his partners would be.
Barty was with him as he was never one to dodge extra work, still a Ravenclaw through and through despite him being seated at the Slytherin table.
Evan who was eager to do as little work as possible, was absent, stating that he had far more important things to do than come up with a shite alternative for a perfect system.
As far as Regulus knew his grand plans involved proving if animals transfigured from inanimate objects were truly alive, he did not know for certain how Evan was going to do that but Regulus felt maybe that was for the better.
Due to Evan’s absence however, Barty was lacking entertainment and was keeping up running commentary on the students being sorted into groups.
His enthusiasm was waning as Regulus continued to largely ignore him – steadfastly reading his book on runic rituals, but he perked up when Regulus’s name was called.
“Lastly, the final group will be composed of -” McGonagall’s voice carried across the hall, aided by the use of a sonorous charm.
“Regulus Black”
“Idiot” Barty whispered to him, grinning slyly as he did so.
“Florence Fawley”
“Bagman’s witch”
“Dirk Cresswell”
“Mudblood”
“and Marlene McKinnon”
Barty grew silent at the last name, after a pause he opened his mouth to speak but was cut short by Regulus.
“I know who she is”
Of all the Gryffindor's he could have been grouped with, he knew she was going to be the most aggravating.
On second thoughts maybe that was not true, McKinnon was irritating and infantile, but at least he could look her in the eyes, at least it wasn't the other one.
Pushing thoughts of any future altercations out of his mind, Regulus rose from the table, deciding it would be easiest to discuss availabilities with the Hufflepuff, Fawley.
He nodded his goodbye to Barty before making his way across the hall where the brunette girl was huddled with a group of her friends.
He approached them, ignoring the mildly mistrustful looks he was shot from all assembled bar Fawley herself who smiled at him warmly.
“Regulus! I was just about to come find you, I thought we should discuss when we should meet”
“My thoughts exactly” he replied, not quite as enthusiastically.
“Perfect, well I have prefect patrol Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Mine are Wednesday and Friday.”
“Monday it is then, I can check with Marlene, would you be able to ask Dirk?”
For moment, Regulus was confused on who exactly Dirk was before it dawned on him that she was talking about Cresswell, her habit of calling all their classmates by their first names was unconformably familiar.
He didn't even call Avery by his first name.
“Unfortunately, I have a prior engagement. If you could discuss with the other two and notify me of a time and location, I would appreciate it.”
Regulus felt like he had failed some sort of test when Bone’s smile faded, her expression now matching her friends.
It wasn't as if he was lying exactly, Evan had been alone in their dorm for an hour now and he was apprehensive about what he would find if he left him for much longer.
Explaining this to four Hufflepuff girls however, would probably be worse than not correcting what they assumed, that he refused to talk to a muggleborn.
Fawley nodded to him frostily and Regulus made a swift exit but not before hearing the whispered, “prat!”, that was directed at his retreating back.
Regulus tried to conjure some kind of hurt or indignation at the insult, he tried and failed. Comments like that seemed to slide of his back nowadays, a younger him would have been hurt or would he? He couldn't remember.
Slowly but surely, his memories and interactions had faded into some distant far away, until they were so unimportant they could have been anybody’s.
They left room for the one thing that mattered, his duties, those he knew he had.
They kept him alive and moving, gave him a reason for it all, a greater purpose.