The Greatest Kind of Magic

12. Changes

Harry, Ron and Hermione heard the protests long before they knew the cause. They were walking towards Gryffindor Tower after dinner, and they could hear the clamour of disgruntled voices up ahead. "A curfew?" "Prefects?" "Expelled?"

"What's that all about?" asked Ron as they drew nearer to the source of the noise.

"I don't know," said Hermione. Beside her, Harry remained silent, but his face tightened. Whatever was happening, it did not bode well.

The trio came around the corner and saw a crowd of students milling before a large notice, which was pinned to the wall beside the Gryffindor portrait hole. Hermione pushed through the crowd, and read the notice out loud to Harry and Ron.

"New school rules effective as of Monday, October 7^th:

"Well, that's nice," said Ron. "Just lock us up in here with the Slytherins, and see who snaps first."

Hermione shook her head. "Ron, how many times do I have to tell you, it might not be the Slytherins?"

"Oh, wake up, Hermione! Who the hell would hex the living daylights out of a Muggle-loving wizard in the middle of the night? Who would set fire to the Three Broomsticks? It's not even like they're hiding it, Malfoy's been just about bragging about being You-Know-Who's henchman since..."

"There's more to Slytherin than just Malfoy!"

"Are you kidding? Malfoy is Slytherin, he's got them all licking his arse! Even if it wasn't him that attacked Liam, I bet he was giving the orders."

Ron stopped and turned to Harry. "Harry - come on, back me up on this, mate!" he pleaded.

Harry shrugged uneasily. "There's no proof, Ron. Liam doesn't know who did it. He doesn't even know what he was doing in the library that night."

"Yeah, but he was gonna talk to that Leighton creep, wasn't he? He was gonna ask him if he knew anything! I'll bet you Leighton told him to meet him in the library and then..." Ron slammed his fist into the open palm of his hand.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Ron. No one would be that stupid..."

"Oh yeah? You're talking about the guy who ran into a burning building without even taking out his wand. He might be brave, but he's a right nutter. He'd be just the sort of person to walk into an ambush like that."

Ron saw Hermione's eyes flicker to his right, and her mouth tighten. He whirled around to see Liam standing behind him.

Ron felt his face burning. "Liam... hi..."

Liam cut him off abruptly. "Do you know anything about what happened to me? Because if you do, I have to know." His face was hard and unreadable, but his voice betrayed a desperate urgency, a need to know. Ron wished there was something useful he could tell him.

"No. I don't know. I'm sorry - I was just saying you might have been ambushed."

Liam grimaced. "I figured as much myself. Any guesses who might have done it?"

Hermione took Ron and Liam by the arms. "Look, we can't just talk about this out here in the hallway. Let's get into the common room and we'll talk, all right?"

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but then he changed his mind and nodded. Liam stuck his hands in his pockets and said nothing.

"Come on," said Harry. "Hermione's right."

Hermione led the boys through the portrait hole and over to a quiet spot by the window. Liam immediately flopped down in an armchair and turned to stare out at the sullen grey sky. Hermione could not help noticing that he avoided looking anyone in the eye; in fact, he seemed reluctant to even look at anybody's face. She wondered what could possibly have happened to him that night, and how much he really remembered.

"I can't remember anything that happened on Friday," he said, as if he had read her thoughts. "Ginny filled me in on what she could, but she can't tell me what happened when she wasn't there."

"Ginny filled you in?" said Ron, frowning. "When?"

Liam did turn to look at him, then. His expression softened almost imperceptibly. "When I was in the hospital wing. She came and talked to me."

Hermione was curious to see Ron's reaction. He frowned, and opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, changing his mind. When he did speak, it was to say, in a ridiculously nonchalant tone, "I didn't realise you two were friends."

Liam shrugged, though Hermione noticed the flicker of a smile on his face. "We're in Transfiguration together - I sit next to her to ward off Colin Creepy."

Hermione heard a snort of laughter. She turned towards the sound, and was surprised to see that it had come from Harry. He had been sitting in his armchair so quietly, she had almost forgotten he was there. Seeing Harry laugh was such a rare occurrence these days, that Hermione and Ron both stared at him in amazement.

"I'm sorry," said Harry, still sniggering. "I just can't believe no one's come up with that before. 'Colin Creepy'! I had no idea he was bugging Ginny."

Ron looked perplexed. "I thought she was going out with Dean!"

Hermione groaned. Ron could be so incredibly blind sometimes. "Ron, that lasted all of two weeks. She broke up with him just after the holidays started."

"What?" Ron actually looked hurt. "How come she never tells me these things?"

"Because you overreact, Ron."

Ron clenched his fists and slammed them into the arms of his chair. "I do not overreact!"

Harry was laughing again, and even more surprisingly, so was Liam. He had turned away from the window, and was looking at Ron's flustered expression with a grin. The hardness was gone from Liam's face, and when the laughter subsided, he shook his head and said, "I'm sorry for snapping. I just really want to know what happened. It's bloody scary, you know. Not being able to remember."

"Can we bring it up at the next DA meeting?" asked Hermione. "Maybe somebody knows something."

Liam considered this, his expression sombre once more. "Yeah, I guess that's the best plan," he said finally, though he looked uncomfortable. "I mean... everybody knows anyway, right?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. "Well... no one it too certain," said Hermione. "There've been all sorts of rumours flying around."

"What kind of rumours?"

"Like, everyone knows something's happened, because of the new rules," said Ron. "But no one is too sure what. Some people are saying there was another attack, like at Hogsmeade. Others are saying somebody got caught doing Dark magic in the school."

"You knew it was me that got attacked..." Liam said, breaking off abruptly and blushing. "I'm sorry - I didn't want to talk when I was in the hospital wing - but I know you guys came."

Harry answered this. "We knew something had happened to you because you weren't in your bed. Hermione wanted to borrow your book, and she made us look everywhere for you. Eventually she thought of asking your sister."

"Oh." Liam grinned. "I'm surprised my sister hasn't told the whole school, actually. That girl has verbal diarrhoea, I swear..."

They all laughed at this, and again the darkness lifted. For a moment, they were children again, like they should have been, joking and laughing and talking about trivial things. But always, the shadows were just behind, knowledge of pain and fear and a troubled world. Eventually the laughter ceased, and an uneasy silence descended. Liam turned to stare out the window again, the haunted look returning to his eyes.

***

"This is getting beyond our control, Albus. Slytherin House is getting beyond our control."

Professor McGonagall was standing in the headmaster's office, facing him over the cluttered expanse of his desk.

Dumbeldore met her gaze calmly. Of course he did - when had she ever been able to out-stare the headmaster? "We cannot expel the entire House, Minerva. And even if we could, I would not do it. I will not turn away students just because they are misguided."

McGonagall's composure slipped: she slammed her fist on the desk. "Misguided? They tortured a student, Albus! They set fire to the Three Broomsticks! What will they do next? Are they misguided enough to commit murder? Students are dead, Albus! We have to do something!"

Dumbledore sighed. There was that look again: that weary look, which spoke of the headmaster's age.

He's showing it more clearly than ever these days, thought McGonagall. He knows he is the oldest wizard in the world. He's starting to fray.

"What would you have me do, Minerva? Expel all the Slytherins? You know I cannot do that."

"We know who attacked Grady. We know, Albus!"

"But we cannot prove it. Nor do we know what the students actually did." Dumbledore shook his head sadly and sighed before continuing. "Liam's rogue magic might have reacted to those who attacked him, but I find it highly unlikely that all fourteen of them hexed him at once. More likely, two or three did the hexing, while the rest stood by and watched. Certainly that is the manner in which Death Eaters torture their victims." He sighed heavily. The lines on his face seemed to deepen. "It would be easy, Minerva, to expel those fourteen students and be done with it. It would be even easier to simply expel every student whose family has ever been associated with Voldemort. But it would not be right. This is more complicated than good students and bad students - just as in the war outside this school, it is not just a matter of taking sides."

"Albus..."

"You have been through the last war too, Minerva. You should understand this," he said gently.

McGonagall pursed her lips and frowned. He was right of course, as he always was.

But that's not good enough! That doesn't change what's happening!

"What are we going to do about it, Albus?"

"Do? There is little we can do, Minerva, save what we have already been doing. We will keep constant vigilance. We will impose a curfew. And we will continue to teach, Minerva: that is the most important thing we can do. That is the purpose of this school, that is our reason for being here. We will continue to teach."

McGonagall did not remain in the Headmaster's office for much longer. Soon, she was striding away through the gloomy hallways, feeling helpless and frustrated and thoroughly unsatisfied.

Could it be that he's losing his touch?

McGonagall gritted her teeth at this unwelcome thought.

I will not think that way. I refuse to think that way!

But the thought remained, and with it, a sickening, terrible fear.

If Albus Dumbledore cannot not find a solution, this school is in deeper trouble than it has ever been before.

***

The days grew shorter and darker, and it was not long before Hogwarts woke up under a thin blanket of snow. Normally, this would have called the students out of doors, to make snowmen and play snowballs and generally enjoy themselves.

This year, however, the restrictions in the school prevented any such activity. Students were not allowed outside the castle except for classes. This caused such an outcry of protests, that a roster of teachers and prefects was quickly organised, and students were then allowed to play outside at designated times. Anyone who wished to spend time out of doors had to sign up for those precious hours - only twenty students were allowed outside at any one time.

A brooding, restless tension settled over the school, and hushed whispers and suspicious glances turned into kicks and punches and curses. Arguments and scuffles became common in the hallways; sometimes they escalated into full-blown fights. The teachers became fed up with giving out detentions, and Argus Filch enjoyed an early Christmas as all his tasks were taken over by punished students.

Jeremy managed to stay out of the worst trouble by keeping silent and avoiding other Slytherins. He was terrified of what they might do: Draco Malfoy seemed to grow more sinister every day, prancing around the Slytherin common room, denouncing Mudbloods and traitors and gleefully describing the tortures they would endure, "When the Dark Lord gets his hands on them". The worst thing of all was the way Malfoy never seemed to get into trouble. Every hex, every dirty prank which he masterminded, somehow managed to be pinned onto somebody else. Crabbe and Goyle were the first to suffer, receiving a week's worth of detentions for putting a jelly-legs jinx on Neville Longbottom in full view of Professor Flitwick. But Jeremy was right behind them at the time - he saw the way both their spells fell short of their target. As Neville began wobbling down the great staircase, Jeremy glanced up, just in time to see a silvery-blonde head disappear on the landing above.

It's just a jelly-legs jinx, he told himself. It's just a kid's prank...

But it was more than that, he knew. What Malfoy was capable of in a crowded hallway was nothing to what he was capable of in a dark, empty library...

Don't think about that.

Jeremy tried desperately to focus his attention on his Charms textbook. His eyes, however, had other ideas, wandering the classroom against his will, coming to rest on the back of Liam Grady, hunched over his desk in the front row.

Liam hadn't spoken to Jeremy since the attack in the library. Jeremy wondered if Liam knew, if he remembered who had hurt him. If he did, he made no sign. Physically, at least, he appeared unscathed. But more and more often, Jeremy found himself watching the older boy, asking himself if he seemed to be talking less, if he seemed to be nervous or shy... if he seemed to be glancing back at Jeremy with accusing eyes.

He's just a Muggle-lover, a blood traitor! thought Jeremy furiously. He deserved what he got!

But as he remembered Liam's screaming face, contorted in silent agony, his body lying limp and burned and broken on the hard stone floor, and worst of all, that smell, that horrible smell of burning flesh, Jeremy couldn't help thinking that nobody deserved that.

"Leighton." Kenneth Bauer poked Jeremy in the arm. "Come on, we gotta practice glamour charms."

"Huh?"

"Glamour charms, Leighton! You know, those things we have been studying for the past two months?"

"Oh... right," said Jeremy, still trying to shake the horrible memory of Liam's ambush out of his mind. "Sorry."

"You're barmy, that's what you are." Kenneth lowered his voice. "Stop looking at Grady!" he hissed in Jeremy's ear. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were in love with him!"

"I wasn't..."

"Bollocks, Leighton. You've been staring at him ever since... you know. Every time we have Charms, you stare at him. And I seen you at dinner, you're always stealing glances at the Gryffindor table."

Jeremy stared at his desk and said nothing.

"Leighton," said Kenneth quietly. "Forget about Grady. I reckon I'm the only one that's noticed, so far. But sooner or later, other people will notice, too. You'll give yourself away; you'll give us all away. Do you want to be expelled?"

Jeremy sighed. Getting expelled at that moment seemed like quite an appealing option. "I'm not going to give us away," he said wearily. "I told you. I'm as committed as any of you. I proved it, didn't I?"

"Yeah... Look, be careful is all I'm saying. Forget Grady. There's plenty of mudbloods out there. We're gonna have fun!"

"Yeah... fun," said Jeremy vaguely, his nostrils twitching in memory of the burning flesh.

***

Everybody was desperate to escape, at least for a time, the fearful tension of the castle. The list of students who had chosen to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas was the shortest it had ever been. Eloise Midgen was staying, and Jeremy Leighton, and three younger students whose parents were away for a time and who had no other relatives to stay with.

"My parents are both working over the holidays," said Ellie to Liam, when he asked her why she wasn't going home. "They often do. It's just better for me if I stay at school. At least I can get all my homework done in peace."

"Yeah, but it's gotta be pretty lonely," said Liam sympathetically. He grinned. "I'll send you a postcard from Little Whinging. It's the most boring town in England, but they have postcards all the same."

"At least you'll get to see all your friends again."

Liam's grin slipped a little. He had mixed feelings about going home. On the one hand, he was looking forward to seeing Davey, Jessie and Sarah again, and to playing his keyboards and watching the telly. That went without saying. But he was also strangely apprehensive. He was afraid that too much had changed, and that somehow, his friends wouldn't be the same. In truth, he was terrified that he would come back to find that everything he had known was different.

"I'm afraid of how stuff's changed," he admitted. "I don't know why, really. It's stupid."

Eloise shrugged. "I'm sure it'll be all right," she said.

Liam wanted to believe her, but his anxiety only grew stronger as the Christmas holidays approached. More and more often, he found himself distracted in classes, unable to concentrate on his work. He would pass entire lessons staring out of the window or just blankly into space.

Only Transfiguration could snap him out of his trance, because Professor McGonagall did not tolerate daydreaming and Ginny was always willing to help Liam with his work. Without even knowing how it had happened, Liam realised one day that he was now at the same level as the rest of the class. He was not the top student by any means, but his work was now adequate for a fifth-year level. Professor McGonagall did not comment on his improved grades, but Ginny did, congratulating him the first time he received an "A".

"You really have improved," she told him. "It's pretty amazing, 'cause you had to catch up on four years of Transfiguration in just three months!"

Liam beamed at this. "Thanks!" He thought for a second, then added, "I couldn't have done it without your help, though."

Ginny shrugged. "Hermione helped you as well. It wasn't just me."

Liam knew however, that it was Ginny's help, not Hermione's that had kept him trying, and that had encouraged him to work. He couldn't explain it, but Ginny seemed to motivate him simply by being there next to him, even when she was just muttering complaints about Colin.

Perhaps it was this strange comfort that led him to voice his fears about returning to Little Whinging to Ginny. He expected the same reassurance he had received from Ellie, but to his surprise, Ginny considered his comment for several minutes before responding.

"I think," said Ginny hesitantly, "it's because you yourself have changed. It's because of everything that's happened to you. And... you're afraid that your friends will be the same, but that you have changed and you can't come back. I mean, what are the chances of them changing that much? You've only been away three and a half months."

They had been walking along the corridor leading to Gryffyndor Tower, and had paused just outside the portrait hole. Liam had been about to say the password, but Ginny's words stopped him dead in his tracks. She was right, he knew that immediately. She had just described the very reason he had known he could not leave Hogwarts, and now Liam realised that it was the exact same reason for his apprehension about returning home for the holidays. It was the second time that Ginny had seen right to the heart of his feelings, and explained them better than he ever could himself.

"You're right," he said, staring at her in wonder. "It's like... I'm not sure who I am any more and I'm afraid they'll see that..." he broke off, embarrassed. It was a thought he had not even had time to examine, and here he was, saying it out loud to a girl he barely knew...

But she knows me better than I know myself.

"I know exactly how you feel," said Ginny, as if reading his unbidden thought. "After Tom Riddle, I felt like I couldn't talk to any of my friends anymore. None of them could understand what happened. They didn't know what happened, and if I told them, I knew they would either not believe me or act all sympathetic and stare and whisper and not know what to say. I think that's why Luna's the only one I really get along with. Because she's, I guess a bit odd herself, and somehow I don't feel like I need to pretend, with her... I don't even know if that makes sense."

Liam he saw Ginny's shoulders hunch up, like they had when she had spoken to him in the hospital. Quickly, he said, "It makes sense to me. It makes perfect sense."

Ginny seemed to relax slightly, and Liam asked, "But what about Hermione?"

Ginny smiled. "But that's different. Hermione, she's like family, really. And that's the thing - that's why I don't think you have anything to worry about with your friends - 'cause if they're really your close friends, you'll get along no matter what."

"You think so?"

"You've known them since you were little, right?"

"Davey and Sarah, yeah. We've been friends since we were, like, five."

"Exactly. And stuff's happened to all of you in all that time, and you've all changed heaps since you first knew each other, but you're still friends, right?"

"Well, yeah. But I haven't even spoken to them since..."

Ginny interrupted. "Listen, my two oldest brothers, Bill and Charlie, they've been working overseas for years now. Bill came back last year, but Charlie's still abroad. I see him once a year, tops. And every time I do, so much has happened, so much has changed, that you'd think we wouldn't know each other anymore. Only it's not like that at all - we sit down and we talk for hours, about everything that's happened to us since we've seen each other, and in the end we're still friends, Charlie's still my brother. It's the same with Bill. Even without talking about the dark stuff, we're still really close."

"Even after... Tom Riddle?"

Ginny looked down at her feet. "Especially after Tom Riddle. They knew what had happened of course, but I never talked to them about it. But they understood, somehow, and it was all right. They knew I'd talk about it if I wanted to."

Liam considered for a moment before asking his next question. "Did you?" He wasn't sure why, but it seemed important.

Ginny looked up, her expression serious. "No," she replied. "You're the only person I ever told."

***

Liam carefully took his violin out of his trunk. For a moment, he considered playing it, and had even opened the case before he decided against it. The train was leaving in half an hour, and he still had to make his way down to Hogsmeade Station. He would be home that evening, and then he'd be able to play to his heart's content. With a thrill of excitement, he realised that he would also be able to play his keyboards, and that tomorrow, he could play together with Sarah and Davey.

He smiled at this thought, put the violin aside and overturned the trunk on his bed.

After the conversation with Ginny, Liam felt much better about the prospect of seeing his old friends. He wanted to know what had been happening at his old school, and he wanted to catch up on the news in the Muggle world.

Because that's my world too.

More than anything, however, he was looking forward to playing music. Liam had a whole stack of parchment, on which he had scribbled notes and ideas for songs. A hundred new melodies fought for attention inside his head, and he was longing to play them and work on them, to put them together into something coherent.

"Come on, Liam, aren't you packed yet?" asked Hermione, peering into the dormitory. "Everyone else is heading down to the station."

"Coming. I'm nearly done."

Liam did still feel a strange reluctance to leave the school, but it had nothing to do with his earlier fears. He did not dare to think what the source of it could be, but the little voice in his head whispered Ginny's name repeatedly. He found himself envying Harry, who was going to spend his holidays with the Weasleys.

Don't be an idiot, he told himself sternly as he began stuffing clothes haphazardly into his trunk. What business is it of yours where Harry goes for his holidays? You have a family, and you haven't seen your friends in almost four months...

He looked at the Muggle photograph on the wall, of three teenagers in Stonewall grey. Sarah, her fair hair falling messily over her face, leaning on Davey's shoulder. Davey, beaming with his arm around her. Next to him, though a little off to the side, the small, pale form of Jessie, her long, black-dyed hair draped gracefully over her shoulders. He grinned, remembering Sarah's offhand comment that Jessie looked like the Mona Lisa. This photograph showed the truth of that statement, right down to the detail of Jessie's faint, mysterious smile.

It will be good to see them all again, Liam told himself. Catch up. Play music.

Nevertheless, despite all his efforts as he packed his trunk, Liam's thoughts stubbornly crept back to Ginny, her brown eyes and her flaming hair, and her serious face as she confessed, "You're the only person I ever told."