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SIYE Time:8:29 on 29th March 2024
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Framed
By MichiganMuggle

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Romance
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Extreme Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use, Rape
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 193
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter is training to be an Auror, and he is finally back together with Ginny Weasley. But when a young woman dies of poisoning at the Ministry’s Midsummer Ball, Harry is the first suspect, and he can only uncover the true murderer by working with his childhood rival, Draco Malfoy.
Hitcount: Story Total: 56139; Chapter Total: 2773
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Please note the date on this chapter. We’ve gone back nearly a year to Romilda’s last year at Hogwarts. Also, I have decided to break this chapter into two. Partly because it’s been over a month since I’ve updated. Partly because it was simply getting too long. Part I will focus on September, while Part II will cover October, and both chapters will be from Ginny’s POV.

Also, a thank you to melindaleo for teaching me, through her own fic, that rubber johnnys are the preferred term for condoms in Britain. At the time I read that, I thought it was random knowledge I would never, ever use, but here I am, using the term in a fanfic. And I hope I never use it again.




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Chapter 10: Difficult Girls, Part I
September 1, 1997
The Hogwarts Express

For the first time in her life, Ginny hated the very sight of the Hogwarts Express. She stood on the platform with both of her parents, arms crossed over her chest, eyeing the train warily, displeased about where it was about to take her. She wasn’t alone. It was the quietest she had ever seen Platform 9 ¾. Normally, kids were shaking off clingy parents to join their friends, but today, kids were staying close to their families. There was a power shift as well. Slytherin parents, as well as some other pureblood parents, had booming voices while others spoke in whispers.

Then there were those who were not seeing children off, but merely vultures observing the changes in the wizarding world. Ginny recognized one of the wizards who had crashed Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and she could tell he recognized her too. She remembered how he had said to her, “Well, we wouldn’t want a pretty little thing like you getting hurt,” while looking like he wanted precisely that. He had tried to corner her behind a tent, but Bill, Charlie, and Fred had formed a blockade between them. Seeing him again, she met his eyes coolly, suppressing a shudder.

“We should have said Ginny has Dragon Pox,” Ginny heard her mother say to her father in a low voice. “Severus Snape running a school. Who knows what will happen?”

Her parents had argued all summer about her going back to Hogwarts. Legally, she had to return due to new Ministry decrees. Her mother said if they could pull off convincing people the ghoul was Ron, they could convince people that Ginny was deathly ill as well. Ginny had worried that her mother would get her way. As much as she dreaded returning to Hogwarts, staying at the Burrow was still a worse option.

August had been a nightmare. Once the Death Eaters had abandoned the Burrow, leaving no small amount of property damage behind, the Weasleys had lived as quietly as mice hiding from a prowling cat, unsure of how much surveillance was on them. They had managed to get the Delacours back to France. Bill and Fleur had missed the Portkey to their honeymoon in Portugal due to the chaos. They were about to give up on their honeymoon and simply head to Shell Cottage and spend their first couple of weeks as a married couple there, but Arthur convinced them to resume their original plan. It was best to keep things normal, he urged them, and also they would regret missing out on their honeymoon, especially as there was no guarantee of a return to normalcy. As a wealthy Hogwarts friend of Bill’s had been able to get the newlyweds a new Portkey, they started their honeymoon only two days later than originally planned.

Once the Delacours were gone, Bill and Fleur were on their honeymoon, and the twins returned to their flat, Ginny’s world contracted. She felt like she could no longer breathe in her own home. She was terrified for Harry, slightly ashamed that she wasn’t nearly as worried for her own brother or for Hermione, and she was smothered by her mother, who focused all of her many anxieties on Ginny. During the day, she helped her mother in the house, garden, and kitchen. In the evenings, Order members visited, speaking in a code so cryptic not even Ginny could decipher it.

She regretted not seducing Harry when she had the chance. She’d made an attempt the morning of his birthday, but it was half-hearted given that it was only a matter of time before Ron burst in or her mother found some object that still hadn’t been adorned with lace, ribbons, or flowers. But still, her hands had been tied. It couldn’t have happened before his seventeenth birthday as neither one of them would have been able to cast a contraceptive charm without alerting the Ministry, and on his birthday, the house had been so full with guests that sneaking around with Harry would have been impossible.

Or was that an excuse? She knew from her Muggleborn friend, Holly, that Muggles had non-magical and easily accessible forms of contraception. Last spring, Holly had explained rubber johnnys to a dormitory of horrified witches. “It’s like a penis glove,” she said matter-of-factly, ignoring the shrieks of disgust around her. “Keeps sperm from doing their job. There are used ones all over the bushes in my neighborhood park.”

While Ginny thought Muggle birth control sounded rather messy, Harry would be worth it. Her mother would have never let her into the village alone to make those key purchases, of course, but she had enough blackmail on Fred and George to bury them. Certainly enough for the twins to buy them for her and buy their silence. And Harry was Muggle raised. Surely, he would know about rubber johnnys. Or so she hoped, as she really did not want to explain their use to him. Still, now it was too late.

The boy simply had to return to her. They had too much unfinished business. And in the meantime, she had to keep things together while he did . . . whatever he was doing.

“Mum, Dad, I’ll be fine,” Ginny said. “Dad, if you’ll help me get my trunk on the train, I’d like to join my friends.”

She didn’t actually need help with her trunk, of course, having been able handle it herself since first year. But she knew her parents had felt helpless ever since they had been unable to protect their family at the wedding. She didn’t actually want to find her friends either. More to the point, she did not want to find out which of her friends were not returning. But she wanted her parents to see her brave and determined. They did not need one more thing to worry about.

Arthur lifted Ginny’s trunk unto the train. “What do you have in there, sweetheart? Bricks?”

“Just the usual. Clothes. Makeup. A couple dozen bludgers.” She kissed her father on the cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.”

She turned to say goodbye to her mother. Ginny initiated the hug, but her mother squeezed her so hard, she thought she might pass out.

“Mum! Mind the ribs!”

“Oh Ginny, I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Mum, I’m not going into battle. It’s just school. And Christmas will be here before we know it.”

“I hope so. Write home whenever you get an opportunity.”

“I will. I need to go. The train will be leaving soon.” She gave her parents a second, much quicker hug. “Bye! Love you!”

Ginny boarded the train. She did not dare look back.

All of the students seemed to be scurrying into the compartments without much socializing. She peered into compartments as she moved down the train. Third year Hufflepuff girls. The Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Fifth year Gryffindors with Romilda Vane holding court. In the fourth compartment was . . .

“Luna!”

Her friend was reading The Quibbler, but the publication was right side up for once. The cover proclaimed the issue was devoted to “The Rise and Fall of the U.K.’s Ministry of Magic.” Ginny raised her eyebrows. Had the Lovegoods left Crumple Horned Snorkacks behind?

“Wait,” Ginny said. She transfigured the cover to look like Witch Weekly.

Annoyance on Luna looked a bit like a grumpy toddler waking from a nap. Ginny thought it was adorable.

“Hello Ginny. I would have thought you of all people would know the importance of telling the truth in dark times.”

Ginny felt a sting. It had been many years since Luna expressed disapproval of her. In fact, it had only happened the one other time.

“Just keeping you safe so you can keep telling the truth,” she said lightly.

“I should be keeping you safe. It’s what Harry would want.”

“Harry’s not my boyfriend anymore, so he doesn’t get a say,” Ginny said.

“But he loves you. Everyone knows it, which is why you need the rest of us to protect you.”

“Really?” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that? I must be out of the loop because I know no such thing.”

Luna gave her a disgusted look and muttered something under her breath about Ginny being more stubborn than a herd of snorkacks, but Ginny had not been fishing for reassurance. She hoped Harry loved her, she even had some evidence to that effect, but was she certain? No, she was not. She sometimes wondered if her desire to seduce Harry before he left was nothing but a pathetic attempt to make sure he did not forget her.

“I don’t want to talk about Harry,” she said. “Tell me about your summer. Mine was all housework.”

Just then, the compartment door slid open, and Neville Longbottom entered, accompanied by Seamus Finnegan. It was strange seeing Seamus without his best friend, Dean. Of course, Dean would not be there. He was a Muggleborn, and he no longer had the Trace. Ginny felt unease churning in her stomach. She had not given this particular ex-boyfriend a thought, and until that moment, she had completely forgot that his blood status placed him in danger. She hoped Dean was all right. He had a mother and sisters. Would his Muggle family be safe?

“We are so glad to see you two. It’s like the Junior League of Death Eaters decided to hold a meeting in the corridor. Not even the trolley witch is able to get through,” Seamus said before stuffing his trunk into an overhead compartment.

“Malfoy’s doing?” Ginny asked.

Seamus paused. “You know, I don’t think I saw him out there. Grabbe and Coyle, yes.”

“He wasn’t out there,” Neville said. “But I’m sure he’s in on whatever they are planning. Malfoy likes to be in on things.”

Ginny thought of what she’d learned of Malfoy’s involvement in Dumbledore’s death. Harry felt confident that Draco would not have killed the headmaster had it been left solely his responsibility. Did he regret his involvement, or had he come back meaner and stronger than ever? She suspected the latter. A humiliated Draco was a dangerous Draco.

The compartment door opened again, and Ginny braced herself to confront Slytherins. But it was just Parvati Patil and Ron’s ex, Lavender Brown. Ginny had never sat with the older girls on the train, but she knew they were following Seamus, not her.

“Did the Slytherins multiply?” Parvati asked crossly. “I am fairly certain there have never been so many.”

With the reduction in Muggleborn students in the other houses, the ratio of Slytherins to other houses had become skewed. Muggleborns were rarely Sorted into Slytherin, even though they were as ambitious as anyone. Perhaps they were more so, having to find their way in an entirely new world, but they tended to be placed in other houses. Ginny did not know if thinking caps were capable of compassion, but if they were, she suspected that might be the Sorting Hat’s motivation.

As the afternoon went on, Ginny acquired the knowledge she had been dreading, as people commented on who was and was not on the train. There were nine sixth year Gryffindors. Aside from Ginny, five had returned. Demelza Robins, Martin MacGregor, Chris Benson, Gemma Barclay, and Pippa Preston were all on the train. The three Muggleborns–Colin Creevey, Holly Griffith, and Ritchie Coote–were not present. Ginny did not know if she had been hoping to see her Muggleborn classmates, so she would know they were fine, or if she was grateful they were not there so they would not be in Snape’s clutches.

As alarming as the shrinking of her own class was, Ginny was aware that the Gryffindor seventh years had reduced to four people: Neville, Seamus, Parvati, and Lavender. The seventh years were not populous in any of the houses. Slytherin, of course, had the most, but even they were down one student she heard.

While Ginny enjoyed catching up with her classmates, she couldn’t help but miss those who weren’t there. She missed Colin rushing into her compartment to tell her something about his summer, his voice getting higher each time he got excited. She missed sitting next to Holly and leafing through the Muggle fashion magazines she always brought on the train. Most of all, she missed Harry and her traditional train game of seeing how many times she could “accidentally” brush against him.

She reminded herself that most of her Gryffindor friends had returned, and she was always grateful to have Luna around. Childhood friends, Ginny and Luna had drifted apart during their first year of Hogwarts–Ginny distancing herself from everyone because of her possession by Tom Riddle and Luna dealing with her first experiences with peer bullying–only to renew their once strong friendship in fourth year.

Most of Ginny’s life had been spent surrounded by males. Growing up, the Burrow had smelled like sweaty socks and fireworks. The exception was the year that Ron first went off to Hogwarts. For the first and only time, Weasley females outnumbered Weasley males in the home, which left Arthur looking bewildered as he kissed his wife and daughter goodbye every morning. Ginny had been dreading that year ever since the twins went off to Hogwarts, but it ended up being one of the best years of her life. Because it was the year of Luna.

Throughout childhood, Ginny had played with Luna Lovegood on and off. The Lovegoods had moved to a home just outside Ottery St. Catchpole when the girls had been five, and they quickly became friends as the only underage witches in the area. They played at Luna’s, as the Burrow’s pranks and loud bangs were overwhelming to the blond girl, who was accustomed to spending time around adults. Ginny had been in awe of Pandora Lovegood, a blond beauty in flowing dresses.

When Ginny was nine, Pandora died. She had been inventing a new potion, and she had included the wrong herb, mistaking a poisonous plant for its medicinal lookalike. Mrs. Lovegood’s funeral was the first Ginny had ever attended, and seven years later, she could still recall the family’s grief. Mr. Lovegood and Luna disappeared for a full year. Xenophilius shuttered The Quibbler, and father and daughter went off in search of new adventures.

One week after Ron boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time, the Lovegoods returned. They were different. Quieter. A little stranger. The Quibbler reopened, but it was no longer the quirky, intellectual publication it had once been, but a home for conspiracy theories. Ginny was just happy to have her friend back, and she was thrilled when her mother offered to tutor Luna for the year in order to allow Mr. Lovegood the opportunity to focus on reopening his paper.

Every weekday for nine months, Luna Flooed to the Burrow in the morning. As Xenophilius was not known for his cooking skill, Luna ate breakfast with the Weasleys. After the last plate was washed and dried, they began their school day. There had been pranks, explosions, and giggles when Ginny had lessons with her brothers, and oftentimes lessons were still incomplete at dinner time. When Ginny saw Luna’s silvery strands falling in her face as she intently worked on her maths, she knew that year would be different. From her dreamy friend, Ginny learned the simple pleasure of pure concentration, of losing herself in an essay or a maths problem.

They usually managed to complete their work by lunchtime, so Mrs. Weasley began giving them cooking lessons in the afternoon or letting them have free time to read books of their own choosing. When Ginny thought of that year, she remembered the smells of cinnamon and apples, as there was always something sweet coming out of the oven. She thought of the adventure novels that Luna had found in her mother’s locked trunk, which both girls had sighed over, loving the stories of soul bonds, household curses, brave princesses, and dastardly villains. She remembered their giggles as they played games of pretend in the Burrow’s treehouse during their free afternoons.

It was the first sisterhood Ginny had ever known. Later, she would know a similar warmth when she would stay up late, talking and laughing with the girls in her dormitory or when Hermione spent summers at the Burrow and they kept secrets from the boys. But back then it was new, and it was her first experience with female bonding.

Ginny and Luna wrote a novel together–a novella, really–based on the dramatic stories they both favored. Inspired by Charlies’s new job, they wrote about an intelligent and passionate young woman who roamed the Romanian countryside on her pet dragon, rescuing witches and wizards in distress. They were very proud of it until the twins came home for the summer and found the copy. Fred and George never missed an opportunity to quote from The Adventures of Daniela Dimitriu, Dragon Princess.

When Harry came to stay with them in August, the twins thought Princess Daniela was every bit as funny as they did in June. Luckily, Harry never asked why Fred and George kept saying things like, “My dragon and I will save the day!” and “His kisses are like tickling charms!” He just seemed to accept that the twins were eccentric. When they toasted her on her eleventh birthday with “May your dragons be swift, your rainbows bright, and your enemies stupid”–a classic blessing of Princess Daniela’s land–he still didn’t comment. She now knew Harry had been overwhelmed being in a wizarding home for the first time, and everything had been odd to him so the things that would be odd to a Weasley wouldn’t necessarily be the things he noticed first.

Ginny felt a fresh rush of affection for her blond friend, remembering their Princess Daniela days. At ten, they had been certain they would conquer the world, as little girls who knew nothing of the world were always certain. Since then, the world had done all it could to crush them–nearly succeeding in first year for both of them–but they had both become stronger. Impulsively, she grabbed Luna’s hand, remembering how she used to hold her friend’s hand when they ran across fields as a child. Luna squeezed her hand, and Ginny knew her friend was remembering too.

She found she enjoyed sharing Luna with the other Gryffindors. Neville was used to Luna, but Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati had no experience with the Ravenclaw aside from a handful of D.A. meetings two years before. When Luna went on a long (and rather gross) explanation of the mating habits of Crumple Horned Snorkacks, which no one had asked for, Ginny exchanged a glance with Neville, and they enjoyed the horrified expressions on their housemates’ faces. However, when Luna announced that there were nargles in the compartment, Ginny grew concerned, as she had begun to suspect that Luna’s “nargles” were actually Luna’s acute sense of when they were being spied on.

Later in the afternoon, after the talk had been exhausted and the sweets long since consumed, she looked up to see Vincent Crabbe staring at her from just outside the compartment. She was startled. She had never seen Crabbe by himself and had never thought of him as an individual, merely a thuggish extension of Malfoy rather than a human being with plans, hopes, and thoughts of his own. He had always seemed more like a villain from the silly novels she and Luna had once read, menacing but without motive or personal history.

But here he was in all his personhood, his attention solely on her. Their eyes met. He had blue eyes so cold she could not believe she had never noticed them before. Keeping eye contact, he licked his lips. Then he smiled and walked away.

*****


The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
7:15 p.m.

Ginny had not anticipated the wrongness of having Severus Snape sitting in Dumbledore’s seat and welcoming the students back. Even the headmaster’s dark billowing robes gave the Great Hall a bleakness that contrasted with the clear night sky above. For the first time, she was grateful Harry was not here to see this.

She had not been certain of what she would find at the staff table. She had heard Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Slughorn, Vector, and Sinistra would still be there, but she did not truly believe it until she saw their grimly determined faces. Hagrid was there, but it appeared Snape had not permitted him at the staff table, instead creating a separate table for him to the left of the staff table. She supposed You Know Who had been unwilling to spare too many Death Eaters to fully staff Hogwarts. She knew Professor Burbage was missing and presumed dead. She didn’t see Filch. She wasn’t sure what she expected in his case. As a Squib, the Death Eaters would consider him vermin, yet he had always been friendly with Snape.

There were two new faces, and she was alarmed to recognize one of them. The stout, doughy malicious-eyed wizard who had shot curses at her on the night of Dumbledore’s murder was sitting at the staff table. Next to him was a female version of him. Death Eater twins or siblings? Ginny couldn’t imagine the Death Eater she’d fought last spring teaching a class. Or reading a book. Or anything that required brain power.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Snape said in a silky voice, as if what he really meant was, Pour yourself a glass of poison. His voice was soft, compared to Dumbledore’s more enthusiastic speeches. “I am Professor Snape, your newly appointed headmaster. A new headmaster means a new era, and those of you capable of thought will be wondering what that will mean for you. As headmaster, I have three goals for Hogwarts. The first is to strive for excellence. The second is the cultivation of discipline. The third and final goal is to honor our magical heritage.

“I say ‘strive for excellence’ rather than excellence itself, as the pursuit of excellence is a never ending quest. It requires dedication and talent in both teacher and student, and not everyone is capable of meeting the challenge. But even the lowliest of dunderheads will be expected to aspire to more.”

Snape talked on, confirming Ginny’s suspicion that this year would be all about power and blood purity. He eventually introduced the doughy Death Eaters as Professor Amycus Carrow, Professor of Dark Arts and Deputy Headmaster and Professor Alecto Carrow, Professor of Muggle Studies.

The grotesque books she’d had to purchase in Flourish and Blotts, An Illustrated Guide to the Dark Arts and The Brutality of Muggle Civilizations, an Illustrated History, suddenly made more sense. She had wondered why her textbooks resembled grim comic books solely devoted to the topic of torture, but now she suspected the Carrows were barely literate and heavily dependent upon pictures. She’d once read that 75% of British wizards never opened a book after leaving Hogwarts, and she supposed the Carrows were the poster children for that.

A few minutes later, Snape wrapped up what was the longest welcome speech since the year of the Tri-wizard Tournament, and announced the feast would begin. The feast looked as delicious as it ever had–roast chicken, ham, beef, potatoes, and roasted vegetables–but for the first time, Ginny did not feel as though she could eat a bit of everything.

She sat with the girls from her dormitory, Demelza to her right and Gemma and Pippa across the table, and only tiny Pippa appeared to have much of an appetite. Normally, she would have had Holly to her left and Demelza to her right, but they had shifted with the circumstances. She knew already that she would miss Holly greatly.

Of the five girls, Ginny and Holly had been the ones gifted with impersonation, and it had been their role to entertain the others in their dormitory. On dull nights, they had acted out scenarios for the other girls. The plots had been basic: Severus Snape is introduced to shampoo; Dolores Umbridge meets the Muggle Queen and informs her of all the Ministry decrees she is violating; the Weird Sisters go deaf; Gilderoy Lockhart loses his hair. Ginny hoped she would not be expected to be court jester all by herself.

Ginny placed some carrots and roast beef on her plate and forced herself to chew. Normally she talked so much at the start of term feast that she struggled to complete her dinner before the dishes disappeared and pudding appeared, but tonight everyone was so quiet that Ginny realized she could hear people chewing and swallowing. The munching sounds did nothing to encourage her appetite.

She felt as though someone was staring at her and looking up from her plate. Amycus Carrow was looking straight at her. He gave her a wink.

****


September 22, 1997

Three weeks had passed, and Ginny’s statement to her mother about merely going off to school, not battle, was being tested.

The Carrows were awful. Alecto Carrow seemed to have a comprehensive list of every terrible act ever committed by a Muggle throughout the course of human history. There was even an Adolf Hitler fellow who sounded like a Muggle Voldemort, not that Ginny thought the She Carrow would appreciate the comparison. Sitting in her class, one would think that Muggles had no technological, artistic, or intellectual achievements, only wars, genocide, witchcraft trials, and crime.

But Alecto was still preferable to Amycus, who was an extra special blend of dim witted and pure evil. He would talk about dark spells and torture and then giggle. He had giggled the entire time he had aimed curses at her in the tower last June. His idea of a practical class was making the students practice dark curses on each other. The worst thing about the He Carrow was the way he looked at Ginny and several of the other girls. She had quickly decided she would avoid detention with him at cost.

Like Umbridge before him, Snape would show up in classrooms, sit in the back and observe. Unlike Umbridge, he never interrupted or corrected the teachers. Ginny had no idea what he was looking for. Even when he wasn’t there, their long term professors did not behave any differently than in previous years, as if that was the only normalcy they had to offer their students. Aside from that curious habit, Ginny saw very little of the headmaster. After his very conspicuous speech, he had gone into the background. She did note that he was often missing in the evenings, and she wondered if You Know Who was summoning him.

Filch, in spite of his Squib status, had some of his wishes fulfilled. He was now permitted to paddle students who broke rules, including students who were of age. Ever since the first days, the Carrows had threatened severe punishment, even use of the Cruciatus. They had not used this, and Ginny suspected they had not received authorization to do so. But whose permission did they need? Snape’s? Or You Know Who’s?

It was lunchtime in the castle. Ginny sat with her friends, her Transfiguration book propped in front of her so she could get a bit of studying in before the He Carrow began his weekly propaganda report. Every Monday, Hogwarts received a “communications update” from “the Ministry.” Sometimes, Snape presented it. Most often, he let Amycus Carrow do the honors, reading from a roll of parchment and stumbling over any word longer than two syllables. Today, Snape was nowhere to be found, so it would be the He Carrow.

“Did you hear about Terry Boot?” Pippa asked. The small blond girl was sitting directly across from Ginny.

“No. What happened?” she asked, her attention still on her studying.

“He stood up to the He Carrow in class, refused to practice a curse. Told him that the use of the curse was outside the scope of a proper magical education. Carrow promised to make an example of him.”

“He’s been promising that for weeks now,” Gemma added in. Gemma and Pippa had been best friends since their first day of Hogwarts, but they couldn’t be more different in looks or personality. Gemma was tall, black, slender, and calm, while Pippa was tiny, dimpled, blonde, with an excitable personality. It was Pippa’s job to stir things up in their dormitory, and Gemma settled them all down. “So it could be more hot air, but the Ravenclaws seem to think a line has been crossed.”

Amycus Carrow entered the Great Hall, dragging Terry Boot behind him. It wasn’t that he physically dragged him. The Ravenclaw was at least five inches taller than the Death Eater and in much better physical condition. But he had Terry by the elbow, and the seventh year wasn’t resisting.

“This student,” Carrow announced to the school, gesturing behind him at Terry, “has refused to participate in class, has not shown the discipline we expect in students, and er . . .” Here he glanced at his sister, having evidently forget Snape’s third Hogwarts goal. She mouthed something to him. “And he is dishonoring our magical heritage. And so he must be punished.”

“Wait just a moment.” Professor McGonagall had stood. “The headmaster is not here! Professor Snape is in charge of discipline in the castle.”

Carrow’s lips curled. “Yes, the headmaster isn’t here. That means the authority is mine as deputy headmaster. Surely, you remember that from the days when you used to be deputy headmistress.”

His sister chuckled.

The head of Gryffindor House continued to stand tall. “We have rules of conduct here at Hogwarts.”

“Those rules are being fixed,” the He-Carrow said. He then sighed, a highly exasperated sound. “Eff it!” He shot a stunning spell at the Transfiguration teacher, and she crumpled to the floor, with several teachers coming to her aid. “As I mentioned before that interruption, there will be punished for insu. . inspir. . .” Again, the She-Carrow mouthed something to her brother. “Insupordination.” He frowned, squinted his eyes. “Insubordination.”

He turned towards Terry. “Crucio!”

Ginny thought that Terry screamed, but he wasn’t the only one. Throughout the Great Hall, there were shrieks and screams. She realized belatedly that she was responsible for one of those screams.

“Stop! You can’t do this to him!” A blond girl that Ginny would later know to be Mandy Brocklehurst was standing up at the Ravenclaw table.

“Sit down, you slag!” someone called from the Slytherin table.

“Do you want to join him, girly?” the He Carrow asked.

For a moment, Ginny thought she was going to remain standing, but then Mandy’s lip trembled and she sat down. She had no idea if she was relieved or disappointed in the girl.

“Good choice,” the He Carrow stated. “I have made my point. Now, you all know the cost of insuportination. Now, get to class.”

Silently, they all did.
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