Chapter 12
The Wizarding World seemed to plunge further into darkness with the arrival of October. The end of September took with it the gleaming light of summer to bring autumn in its stead. The students fully entered the whirlwind of classes, studying, and assignments. The library began to overflow with the arrival of the first midterms, and the common rooms became much more bustling with the arrival of rain. A cold year loomed, with a forecast of rain.
The printed news that fell onto the wooden tables of the Great Hall increasingly brought announcements of more deaths, disappearances, and strange events that seemed to have no true explanation, but reeked of dark magic all around. The muggle-born students who received the press from the parallel Great Britain, the non-magical world, commented on how muggles seemed to become more aware that something was not right. A shadow spread through both worlds, still perhaps silent, but increasingly visible.
Many families began to take students back home, fearing what might be coming. Hogwarts, the heart of the magical world, began to seem not so safe. The war that would soon erupt outside would also have no truce within the castle walls.
The Pevensie siblings and Professor Plummer, informed by Susan, decided to set a password for the mysterious room that Draco Malfoy had found. The Ravenclaw, secretly handed the ex-auror the memories she had extracted from Draco Malfoy, in a small bottle, which would undoubtedly be brought to Professor Dumbledore's pensieve as soon as possible.
The Gryffindors, relieved of their punishment for attending the party, began to be more open with Peter Pevensie, who began to receive attention he wasn't sure he liked or not. Professor Slughorn invited him to the first autumn dinner at his selective club, an invitation he couldn't refuse.
Lucy Pevensie, for her part, began to stand out, fulfilling and often exceeding the magical world's expectations placed on the youngest of the Pevensie lineage. Gradually, she was becoming one of the great prides of Hufflepuff house and caught the attention of the faculty for her ease with Potions and Herbology, especially in everything related to healing abilities. Professor Sprout began to pass her more complex books and offered her to attend the seminars she held in extracurricular hours for her most advanced students. Hagrid, of course, had a special weakness for his new student in Care of Magical Creatures, who seemed to share the half-giant's sensitivity for beings of the magical world.
All the siblings were aware of the darkness that lurked in their world, but none sensed it as much as Edmund Pevensie. The Slytherin common room's atmosphere of tension escalated further. Direct confrontations between families of ancient lineage and students accused of being half-blood. Tensions in the dormitories over suspicions of allegiance to one side or another. Fights in corridors between gangs trying to assert their superiority over the rest.
Edmund had never had a problem being a Slytherin; he had even come to pride himself on it. Ambition, directed towards good, could be as fruitful, in his opinion, as bravery. But in that polarized world, confused in its ideas of right and wrong, ambition seemed to be the shovel beginning to dig the grave of half of its students. The question was, which half would end up being buried alive.
Astoria had become increasingly quiet and withdrawn, anguished at every moment with the expectations that her sister Daphne Greengrass tried to impose on her younger sibling. Edmund didn't know exactly how to cheer her up, but he never left her side. Which, began to raise suspicions in another sector of the student body, who seemed to think that the boy was not entirely aligned with the rest of his family's stance. They would have liked to tell them they had had the Order of the Phoenix over for tea a quarter of the nights that summer, but he couldn't share that, and truthfully, it wouldn't have made any difference.
That morning, the day was greyish, but the rain seemed to be taking a break. The young Slytherin, tired of so much tension, left Quidditch practice and decided to take a walk around the grounds. The air of nature relaxed him and brought back memories of better times. Unconsciously, he found himself wandering the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
With the Slytherin team uniform still on and his dark black hair, Edmund Pevensie seemed to blend in with the forest. Still sweating from the effort of the practice, he noticed how the air whistling between the trees clashed against his skin.
He walked for half an hour, observing the castle from the inside edge of the lush cluster of trees. Everything seemed so peaceful from there. How he longed for tranquility. Everything was so noisy lately. No one seemed to stop.
Something caught his attention. Meters away, inside the forest, he could
see a girl wandering cheerfully among the trunks. She seemed out of place, with her light blonde hair and blue eyes, in the midst of the dark panorama the landscape presented. Just as Edmund blended among its colors, the girl stood out completely. A point of light on a black canvas.
"Luna Lovegood, right?" the boy asked, approaching her.
The girl wasn't startled, she simply turned her head and smiled at Edmund as he approached. The Slytherin noticed the girl was holding a few flowers in her hands, though he couldn't recognize them.
"Edmund," she said, without asking. "Susan's brother."
"That's me," he said with a smile. "What are you doing out here?"
Luna Lovegood piqued tremendous curiosity in him. There was something so special about her. Curious, yes, but special.
"I'm looking for the 'Glimmering Whisper,'" she said confidently.
"I've never heard of them before," he said. "Are those them?"
"Yes," she said, lifting the greenish flowers. "Not everything unknown is nonexistent."
"You're absolutely right," the boy said. "Can I see them?"
The girl brought the bouquet closer for him to take. They resembled daffodils, but their leaves were much more curved and appeared delicate, and their green hue was unlike anything he had seen before.
"They glow at night," she said. "They survive without being planted. You can put them in a jar, and when the sun sets, little lights start to dance around them. My father and I use them to make lanterns. They say they ward off dark magic."
"Incredible," said the boy.
"Would you like to keep one?" she offered. "Or I can give you the bouquet."
"No, no..." he said. "They're yours... although I would love to see the lanterns you make with them."
"I'll show you," she said, taking back the bouquet he extended to her. "Now I must go. I'm meeting your sister for lunch."
"Yes, it's better not to make her wait," he said, laughing. "She's quite the character."
The blonde said goodbye with a smile and left the forest, walking quickly, hopping agilely between the tree roots. Edmund watched her go, spellbound. Luna Lovegood was undoubtedly different from everyone else. So strange. She seemed not to live according to the rules imposed by magical society. She seemed not to care what others thought of her.
For Luna Lovegood, there were no sides. She was herself. A small ray of light in the midst of the gloomy forest, refusing to stop illuminating and providing warmth.
"Don't be like that, Peter, it's your perfect opportunity," Susan snapped between the library shelves.
"The Slug Club?" he said, rolling his eyes.
"Yes, the Slug Club," she replied. "Cormac goes to those meetings."
"Oh, no..." his older brother said. "No, no, no... we've already talked about this."
"Polly still can't find a way into that mansion, Voldemort is looking for answers," the girl said. "If they exist, we don't want him to find them, especially not before us. Can't you just suck it up?"
"Have you seen how he acts?" the boy said. "He's not the friend I had before; he's nothing like him. All he does is talk about girls and himself."
"Then talk about girls and talk about him," Susan said. "That, or find another way to get what we want. But do it quickly."
Susan sat down by one of the windows and took out her copy of "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5" to compare it with another enchantment book she had found in the library, ready to do the work Professor Binns had assigned for the following week.
"And what about Malfoy?" the boy said, slightly changing the subject.
"Leave that to me," she said with a smile.
"Oh, no, I know that look... What are you planning?"
"I'm going to turn the tables," she said. "He doesn't remember anything he talked to me about. I plan to play dumb."
"Are you going to befriend him?" said the older one in a tone that indicated both disapproval and a protective edge. "Don't you dare."
"No, Peter, no," she said, waving her hand. "I'm going to make him think I have the information he's looking for, and in exchange, I'll find out how much he knows about what the Dark Lord knows."
"You're crazy," he said. "No way."
"Sorry, brother, but you can't protect me all your life," she said. "Aslan spoke to Edmund and Lucy about a great darkness looming over Narnia, didn't he? And you are the High King, but I'm also its queen. We all have to work to protect our kingdom. And if that involves playing with a Death Eater's son... or going to the Slug Club, isn't that what we should do?"
Peter remained silent, arms crossed, leaning against the nearest bookshelf. He let his head fall back until the back of his head gently hit the wood. Closing his eyes, he brought his hand to his face and looked back at his sister.
"Sometimes I hate how clever you are, you know?" the boy said.
"I know," she said. "But trust me, it's nothing compared to your stubbornness."
They both laughed softly. Hours later, the two siblings entered Polly's class for fifth-year and older students together. The Muggle Studies classroom hardly received students beyond fourth year, as its grade on the O.W.L.s did not seem to be considered of much relevance for most future positions.
The day's syllabus was about Muggle poetry, and how the non-magical society had learned to express feelings in which wizards could fully see themselves reflected. Professor Plummer, in just days, was becoming one of the favorite teachers for part of the student body. For many, a world they considered much more barbaric and underdeveloped than theirs was beginning to open up to reveal depths that only Muggles had managed to express.
Polly began to explain the project they would undertake that semester when suddenly, her sentence was suspended in the air by the sound of the heavy door opening.
"Sorry I'm late," a female voice said.
"Don't worry," the teacher said. "Miss Parkinson, right? Take a seat."
Susan turned to look at her brother, who had his eyes fixed on the newcomer. He looked at the Slytherin with suspicion. He didn't know what Pansy Parkinson was doing in Muggle Studies, but her intention could certainly not be good. She was up to something.
The Slytherin ignored the stares and sat in the last row, completely alone.
"Alright..." Polly continued, trying to regain her students' attention. "The work will be done in pairs... you must find several verses written by Muggle authors, which you think can resonate with the social environment we live in. The magical world."
The teacher went on to explain the work's specifics and how it would be evaluated in more detail, and waving her wand, she listed all the registered names on the board, then with another twist, mixed them randomly into pairs.
Susan murmured with joy under her breath when her name was paired next to Luna's. Peter scrutinized the rest of the green surface in search of his name written in white chalk. When he finally found it among the long list, he read the name beside it with terror.
Peter Pevensie & Pansy Parkinson
The boy turned his head towards the last row, where the girl with dark brown hair was looking at the board with a look of disdain very similar to his own. For a moment, the boy thought the Slytherin would stand up and leave, and indeed, he silently hoped she would. But she didn't.
Pansy stayed. Their gazes crossed for a moment, before turning back to the front of the class, where Polly Plummer continued with her lesson.
The Slug Club and a project with Pansy Parkinson. The term was shaping up to be quite depressing.