Chapter 17
Susan closed the door behind her, quickly casting a silencing charm on the wooden boards so no one could hear their conversation inside, but they could still hear the hallway sounds in case someone approached.
They were in the potions classroom that advanced seventh-year students occasionally used to practice for their N.E.W.T.s. It was highly unlikely that any of them would decide to come in to review a potion on a Friday afternoon, especially on a Quidditch weekend.
"What do you know about Draco?" Harry Potter asked anxiously.
Susan took a deep breath, trying to gauge how much information she could reveal to him. They both had secrets, and both were, in some way, threatened by Voldemort. However, Harry's secrets were more well-known, and his threat much more imminent.
"A few weeks ago, I watched him from the Ravenclaw tower," she said. "He was walking around the castle at night."
"Do you know where he was going?" he asked.
"No," she lied.
"And do you suspect him?" he asked.
"Completely," she said. "He's been... pestering me. I think he's trying to get information about the Order. But he's fixated on me."
"I think he's a Death Eater," Harry said. "We saw him, Ron, Hermione, and I. At Borgin and Burkes."
"What were you doing in Knockturn Alley?"
"Following him..." Harry said.
Harry then began to recount the scene to a very confused Susan. The encounter with Draco in the alley and his conversation with the Slytherins on the train. Susan listened intently, realizing that something was eluding her. The hidden tapestry wasn't the only thing Malfoy was concealing. No, there was more to this story.
"And tomorrow he's not playing in the match. Your brother is taking his place as Seeker, against me," he said, worried.
"Okay... I could... see what he's doing," she said. "No one will miss me at a match, especially if it's not Ravenclaw."
"I think many will miss you..." Harry said, scratching his head.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Nothing, it was silly..." he said. "I think it's a great plan. I have something that might help you."
Harry took the Marauder's Map out of his pocket and handed it to Susan. She listened attentively as he explained how it worked. They leaned on one of the tables as Susan observed the map, amazed.
"It's incredible," she said. "It's..."
"It was my father's... and his friends'..."
"How could they make something like this?" she asked. "It's very advanced magic."
"No idea, maybe Remus can answer that question," he said.
"I'll ask him next time I see him..." she said.
A strange silence fell in the room as Susan continued to study the map. She found the classroom where they were, seeing their two names written on the parchment.
"Why are you so determined to neutralize Malfoy?" he asked. "No one takes me seriously, they don't think he's a threat, yet you pursue him relentlessly."
Susan looked at him with a sad smile.
"I'm not that much of a fighter, you know? I mean, I can be... but I don't like to be. Everyone's gotten used to me fighting because I'm strong when I want to be. But I'm tired of it. Very tired. Of losing so much along the way..."
"Cedric?" Harry asked gently.
"Yes," she said, with a slight frown.
She hadn't thought about Cedric in a long time, and realizing that pained her deeply. Yet a part of her felt relieved seeing the understanding look in Harry Potter's eyes, looking straight at her.
"The truth is, I hoped to find some peace this year. You know, meet people... laugh, study, move forward... live life without lamenting all the time. Part of me wanted to ignore the war, even if just for a while. But it's coming, and Draco Malfoy is the reminder. I'm tired, but I'm going to fight. I don't want to lose anyone else. I don't know if that makes sense..."
"Believe me..." said the Boy Who Lived with a sigh, "it makes all the sense in the world."
Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, and Susan was about to whisper a "thank you," but her gaze returned to the map, where the parchment and ink revealed a name on the other side of the door.
Pansy Parkinson.
"Good thing you cast a silencing charm," Harry said. "You're really a genius."
"That's what people think," she said. "But I've gained that skill because I love to gossip."
Harry laughed.
"Thank goodness the classroom has another exit," Susan said. "But what does she want?"
"I don't know, but if she tells Draco, he'll suspect you."
"True," she said.
"What do we do?"
Helen Pevensie entered the headmaster's office without bothering to knock. Albus Dumbledore, sitting on the other side of the desk, looked up to see the woman enter through his half-moon glasses. He quickly realized she was slightly angry.
"Hello, Albus," spoke the mother of the Pevensies.
"Hello, Helen," he said with a smile. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"
"I thought Polly told you I was coming," she said, not returning the smile.
"She did," he said. "I suppose it seemed unexpected at the time..."
"How many Horcruxes are there, Albus?" Helen interrupted.
"I don't know for certain."
"But it's true what Polly says, isn't it?" she asked. "He didn't just try to create one with each founder's artifact."
"No... there are more," he said, pulling the diary out of a drawer.
"Then it's true... everything Polly said. Did you know there were more?"
"I suspected."
"Did you know Alice knew?" she asked, with sadness in her eyes.
"Yes..."
"And you never thought it appropriate to tell us?" she said.
"She didn't leak information to the Death Eaters," he said. "The information she knew stayed with her."
Helen felt her face flush as the heat of her anger spread across her features.
"She was my friend!" she shouted.
"I know..."
"We all fought to end this... and yet you never thought it appropriate to tell us anything..."
"It's not your mission..."
"Oh no... and whose is it? Harry's?"
"He's the Chosen One."
"No, no..." Helen said. "You can't be serious. You have to stop making teenagers fight your battles. You have an army, Albus. The Order. We may not be numerous, but you have at your disposal several of the most powerful wizards of several generations."
"I know, but it has to be Harry..."
"Do you know what it was like?" she said through clenched teeth. "Destroying that diadem, being almost still a child... hearing that voice in my head, trying to corrupt me so I wouldn't do it... do you know the images that passed through my mind? You have no idea what..."
Helen's attention, as a good healer, went to Dumbledore's arm. He had kept it covered in public for months, in any of the occasions when she had seen him. But this time, having entered his office unexpectedly, the old man hadn't had time to cover it.
"You do know..." she said. "You've tried to destroy another, haven't you? That's the same burn Regulus carried for years, am I wrong?"
"You mustn't get involved in this, Helen."
"I'm not leaving here without answers," Helen said, with a sad expression. "Not this time, Albus. I beg you... I need to protect my children..."
"Alright. If you want us all to help each other, I'll tell you what you want to know. But in return, I need you to answer a question. About Polly, Professor Digory, and your children... do you fear that Tom wants to know if they can travel to other worlds?"
Helen looked at the headmaster, weighing whether or not to answer that question.
On the other side of the door, Pansy Parkinson tried to listen to what was happening inside the classroom, debating whether to open the door. Her hand slowly approached the doorknob as her right ear got closer to the wooden cracks, failing to hear anything. She peered through the gaps, but the light inside wasn't strong enough to show her anything through the worn door.
"Parkinson!"
Pansy jumped, startled, and turned to see Peter Pevensie approaching her down the hallway with an angry expression.
"Get lost, Pevensie," she said in a disdainful tone, leaning against the wall.
"No, no..." he said with a fake laugh. "You're going to come and do the work with me, no negotiation."
"Who do you think you are?" she said, stepping up to him with a threatening posture and haughty tone. "Blood traitor."
"Do you think that's an insult?" Peter laughed. "My family was taken off the Sacred Twenty-Eight list for defending Muggle dignity. It's been our pride for generations... some of us believe nobility isn't a birthright, you know? And I'm not going to do your work..."
"I suppose that's why you like Granger's Mudblood so much, right?" she laughed. "Don't talk to me about nobility, Pevensie. You think you're better for helping the 'weak,' but by doing so, you acknowledge they are weak..."
"Shut your mouth, Parkinson," Peter said, barely parting his teeth.
"Oh, did it anger you that I insulted your little Mudblood?" her tone turned even colder. "When even she can't see your nobility. I guess she can be somewhat intelligent sometimes."
"Do me a favor and don't mention her name again," he said. "If you have a problem with me, we'll go to Professor Plummer, and you can tell her you're dropping the class. One less problem for both of us, right?"
"No," Pansy snapped.
She said it without thinking. She couldn't drop Muggle Studies. It would ruin her plan. She was revealing too much. Or maybe the plan had never been the right one. But now she had to keep going. If she hesitated, Peter Pevensie would notice.
"No?" said Peter, leaning against the wall. "Well, Parkinson? Why not?"
"I don't have to explain that to you," she said.
"Oh, no?" he said. "I don't have to do your work either..."
"We all need to understand Muggles," she interrupted with a half-smile.
"What are you saying?" he said, incredulous.
"The world is going to change, Pevensie," she said. "I have an interest in politics, in changing the statute that regulates our relationship with Muggles. They are inferior, and I intend to prove it. Don't give me that look... we'll take good care of them... but they need to know their place."
Peter stared at the girl as if he couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. He looked directly into her eyes, as if trying to find in them the reason for her words. Pansy couldn't help but look away, hoping he wouldn't notice a hint of her shame.
"I pity you," he said. "Your world must have been very dark."
"I don't need your pity, Pevensie," she said.
"Then let's just do the work," he said.
"Fine."
"Fine," said Peter. "But let's do it on Sunday. I don't feel like working anymore today. Read these books."
Without saying another word, Peter Pevensie dropped two large volumes into her arms and smiled at her. Pansy rolled her eyes and started walking towards the end of the corridor.
"Enjoy the game tomorrow," said Peter in a mocking tone.
Pansy Parkinson gave him the finger as her only response before disappearing from the Gryffindor's sight.