Bones to Bones

Bones to Bones

Chapter 9: With Patience, the truth is Revealed

Ashtur an'Vangan

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"The directions are on the board, you may begin," Professor Snape said, as he settled behind his desk to watch over the efforts of his class. Susan sighed, as this looked like it was going to be an unpleasant and tedious potion. Start with water that was boiled over a magical fire, and add powdered asphodel and ashes from dogwood bark. Then add a single hair from a crup's tail. Okay, so far, so good. Now, stir for the next seven minutes, alternating two clockwise strokes for every counterclockwise stroke.

Stirring her potion, Susan couldn't keep her mind from wandering back over the last few weeks at school. It had taken a few days, but she'd finally managed to begin to feel like herself after her little breakdown. However, it didn't take long to realize that things just weren't the same, nor would they be for the foreseeable future. She soon found out that she wasn't the only person who felt the escape of the Death Eaters especially strongly either. She wasn't the only one whose life had been affected by their rampages. She'd already known about Neville, as the fate of the Longbottoms had been an occasional topic of hushed dinner conversation over the years at home. They weren't the only ones though. All of the others were younger, but they were around as well. The one that took her the most by surprise was a second year Slytherin boy by the name of Prewitt. Susan hadn't talked with any of them other than Neville, but in short order they'd all bonded in an odd way. They'd meet up in the hallways between classes, and simple eye contact would say more between them than words could ever carry. In her own mind, Susan had taken to calling this little group "the Dark Lord's Footprints."

It wasn't just that little group though; it seemed the very air at Hogwarts had changed. There was a tension that flowed from every nook and cranny. It was as bad as the days of the Monster of Slytherin, and in some ways even worse. Susan understood the tension clearly. The escaped Death Eaters were bad enough, but under the leadership of the mass murderer Black? Susan shuddered slightly, as she continued to stir her potion. That didn't even include the more natural, but still intense tension caused by the onrushing O.W.L. examinations. The tension had gotten to the point that Susan hadn't even gone on the last Hogsmeade weekend. Aside from the fact that she was in no mood to put up with all the Valentine's nonsense, she decided she needed to relax, so while Hannah and the boys went into the village, she curled up in the dorms with a book called Pride and Prejudice, and relaxed in her own preferred way.

"Miss Bones! Miss Bones!" Susan broke out of her reverie as Professor Snape swooped in. "Miss Bones, the instructions were most clear. You stir for seven minutes. If you do not move on to the next step, this headache relief potion will instead cause severe headaches. Now, it might be most amusing for us to see you roll around on the floor feeling like someone had split your head open with a battleaxe, but I suggest you show some of that legendary Hufflepuff diligence and do your work," Snape said in annoyance.

Susan gulped, hurriedly stopped stirring, and added a block of yew heartwood to her cauldron. Sighing in relief she watched her potion turn from a deep mauve to a pale orange. It was probably a bit paler than it should be, but at least it would get a passing grade. Looking up, she saw Terry Boot shaking his head at the next table. "You ok, Susan?" he whispered. He shook his head again in response to her nod, as if he didn't fully believe her. She was fine though, a bit distracted, but that could happen to anyone.

Thankfully, class didn't last much longer, and they were soon on their way back to the common room. Hannah was waving around her Potions paper which had been handed back at the beginning of class. "An A! Average! This was just a paper! What will I do when we take the tests? I'm sure they'll be much harder than any old paper that Snape can give us!"

"You'll be fine. Remember, that you only had an hour to do this paper, with us having prefect duties, and the meeting the night before it was due," encouraged Ernie.

"Oh, that's what you say, but it's just an excuse. How will I ever get all of this learned? I don't want to spend the rest of my life measuring dresses in Gladrags!"

"Hannah, shut it!" Susan snapped, as everyone else looked at her in shock.

"That wasn't necessary Susan," bristled Ernie. "We need to stand together."

Susan stood still a moment, focusing on her breathing. "I'm sorry Hannah." Hannah nodded, but didn't say anything.

"What is it with you two?" asked Justin. "Hannah goes to pieces after every grade, and you're getting as snappy as that venus flytrap Professor Sprout has on her desk!"

"Don't hide it Justin, don't think we aren't on to you. Even you wouldn't have told that joke last night about the Ashwinder who laid its eggs in a mummy's crypt if you weren't nervous," laughed Ernie. "Come on, let's go relax a little, we're all on edge. It's Friday after all."

***

The weekend passed in a pleasant fashion, and everyone seemed to be in a better mood at breakfast Monday morning. Ernie and Hannah were laughing, telling them about a trick that someone had played on Filch, leaving him sprouting daises from his old, worn jacket. Hannah was in the middle of relating Filch's rant when a veritable storm of owls descended on the Gryffindor table. Susan narrowed her eyes as she noticed that they all seemed to be converging on Potter. One sure truth of Hogwarts, was that if anything strange happened around Potter it was well worth paying attention to. She nudged Justin, and pointed to the exuberant letter opening party that had broken out. They shared puzzled looks as Potter and the Weasleys opened more and more letters. They weren't the only ones who had noticed, as they saw Professor Umbridge home in on the group. However, before she got to the Gryffindor table, Susan's attention was diverted as Eloise slid into the spot next to her.

"Here, look at this," Eloise muttered, shoving a piece of parchment onto the table. There was a collective intake of breath as they saw what it was. "He's told his story. Loony shoved this into my hand a few moments ago."

"Put it away!" hissed Ernie. When Susan looked back at the Gryffindor table, she could see that Umbridge was turning a rather unattractive shade of violet.

"Susan, that thing you did with your photo album? Could you do that to this?" asked Justin.

Glancing over her shoulder, seeing that Umbridge had stormed out of the hall, Susan said, "I can do one better. Give me that Potions book." Taking the book, she tapped her wand idly on the table while staring at the recipe for the headache potion from Friday.

"Rescriptus."

The ink on the parchment seemed to disappear for a moment, and then the Potions notes appeared in Susan's handwriting.

"Impressive," said Justin, smiling. "How do we get it back?"

"Oh, it's just a simple Finite actually," Susan said, tucking the parchment into her bag. "I'll be able to do a better job when we are alone in the common room later."

It wasn't until after the last class of the day that they had a chance to settle down and take a closer look at what they had. By that time, Umbridge's latest barrage of posters outlawing the Quibbler had been posted, but very few people were paying any attention to it. The four of them were huddled over a table in a hidden corner of the common room that could not be seen from the door. Eloise had perched herself so that she could warn them if Umbridge came in.

"Look at this!" breathed Justin. "I mean, we've seen lots of weird stuff, but taking his blood and coming back from the dead? And this stuff about the wands meeting? Maybe the magazine made all of this up."

"No," said Ernie grimly. I was able to talk to Granger for a moment. She said that Harry did the interview."

"But, this can't be true, can it?" said Hannah. "Susan, what do you think?"

Susan ran her hands over her face, unconsciously mimicking a gesture she had seen her Aunt Amelia do under stress many times. "I really, truly don't know. I mean, Potter doesn't come across as a liar, and if Granger said that he really did do this interview..."

"Don't tell me you believe that rubbish!" crowed Zacharias, who had walked up without their noticing. Ever since Hufflepuff had defeated Gryffindor in the last Quidditch game, Zacharias had become even more abrasive than usual. The only good news from Susan's point of view was that his new status as "Hufflepuff Quidditch star" had gained him a pair of adoring fourth year girls following him around, so he didn't pay nearly as much attention to her.

"Zacharias, we've known all along that something happened that night," countered Ernie.

"Oh, of course something happened," said Zacharias. "But I see no reason to believe that this drivel has anything to do with what really happened. Come on! The Quibbler? The great Harry Potter tells his story alongside articles about Stubby Boardman and puzzles that give curses to make someone's ears fall off! Why should we believe this rubbish?"

Justin smiled and said, "Just how are you such an expert on what's in the Quibbler anyway?"

A furious blush stormed up Zacharias cheeks, and he stammered, "Well, I still say it's so much nonsense!"

They discussed the article late into the night, unsure of what to make of it. It all seemed so unreal. Yet, there was something about it that was compelling, that perhaps it was the very strangeness of the story that made it believable. There was so much detail there, even the names of a number of the Death Eaters. When she saw the name Crabbe, Susan unconsciously put her hand to her chest. When Susan got up to her room later that evening, she wasn't in the least bit surprised to see Dody waiting for her.

Dear Susan,

I would imagine that you have heard about the interview that Mr. Potter did. You can easily imagine the chaos that it caused here at the Ministry. Fudge seems even more upset than he was the night of the Azkaban breakout. Please write back as soon as possible with your impressions of what is going on at school.

By the way. I've discovered some troubling information. Whatever you do, do not cross Dolores Umbridge.

Aunt Amelia

Susan sat at her table, pondering the empty parchment that she would send back to her Aunt. Finally though, with Dody impatiently hopping around on her bed, she picked up her quill.

Aunt Amelia,

Yes, I've read the interview in question. I'm not really sure how much I can say right now. I have it on good authority that Harry did do the interview. It's not something that some magazine writer made up. I'm not entirely sure what to make of it though. From what I've seen of Harry, he is trustworthy, and I can't imagine his lying about something like this. Still though, it all seems so hard to believe.

The chaos there sounds like the chaos here. It didn't take Umbridge more than a few minutes to ban all copies of the interview. She seems to be doing her level best to keep it from getting out. It's not working though.

Have you spoken with Dad? I have a feeling this will be very hard on him. I'll owl Mum in the morning, but Dody is getting impatient.

Love,

Susan

The next morning, Susan ran into Neville in the Owlery.

"Good morning Susan!" he said with a friendly smile.

"Morning Neville. What's got you in such a good mood all things considered?" It didn't really seem to be a particularly cheery time after all.

"Didn't you hear what happened yesterday? Dean and I were laughing about it half the night."

"No I haven't. What was it?"

"Well, Professor Trelawney is constantly predicting gruesome deaths for Harry. She's been doing it for three years now," laughed Neville.

"This is funny how?" asked Susan in confusion.

"Well, yesterday in Divination, she changed her tune. Right in front of Umbridge, she not only predicted that Harry would live, but that he'd have a pack of kids and become Minister of Magic!" Neville said, leaning against the doorframe, convulsed in laughter.

"Oh, I bet that went over well," said Susan, an evil grin spreading across her face.

"Oh yes, I didn't realize that anyone could turn that color of purple!"

Susan started down to get breakfast, that cheerful image brightening her mood considerably. She was about halfway there when she heard an entirely too familiar voice. "Hem hem, Miss Bones, may I talk with you?" Susan turned, and there was Professor Umbridge, in her full, toad like glory.

"Miss Bones, turn out your pockets!" With a sinking feeling, Susan emptied her pockets and bag for Umbridge. She wasn't worried about their copy of the article being found, as she'd left it with Ernie, but this still wasn't the way she wanted to start her day. Professor Umbridge sorted through her notes, and even had the sheer gall to read a letter she'd gotten from her parents the week before. "Well, it seems that you aren't carrying any illegal material. Do you know who has been spreading the rumors around school?"

"No," said Susan, looking down at the floor.

"I see, well tell me if you find out anything."

"No," repeated Susan, this time looking Umbridge right in the face.

"What is that supposed to mean?" retorted Umbridge, her face starting to turn red.

"It means that I am not going to be your snitch!"

"Miss Bones, you do not wish to cross me," whispered Umbridge, in a saccharine voice that sent chills down Susan's spine.

"I will not spy on my classmates," Susan said, staring right into Umbridge's eyes.

"Well then Miss Bones, I suggest you come by my office tonight, and for the next week for detention. You should learn some respect for your betters!" After she'd said this though, doubt seemed to cloud Umbridge's face. After a moment, she said, "No, no detention this time after all. Just consider yourself on warning Miss Bones, no more disrespect will be tolerated!" Umbridge then turned and stormed off.

The rest of the day passed in something of a daze, as Susan fought to regain her self-control after her confrontation with Umbridge. She was actually looking forward to Herbology for a change. She was good with plants, the result of days spent out in the field with her father. It was her favorite way to bond with him. The plants themselves didn't interest her though, so she usually got good marks in class, but it wasn't her favorite by any stretch of the imagination. Today though, she was looking forward to it, because she was hoping that she'd be able to find calm and peace with the plants the way her father did.

Professor Sprout was going on about the proper way to water and fertilize wolfsbane, a procedure that Susan knew very well. She was only sort of paying attention when Professor Sprout asked Harry to hand over a watering can.

"Fifty points for Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout to a shocked class.

Why in the world would she give fifty points for something like that? Handing over a watering can wasn't even worth two points, much less fifty! Suddenly, she felt her knees weaken and the blood rush from her face. "Sweet Merlin, she believes him," Susan whispered.