Fic: What Makes All The Difference, Part II

[gfeather]

Part II

The first major sign of trouble came on a Friday two weeks into September when Amycus Carrow caught a sixth year Hufflepuff, Alexander Bennet, calling Snape a greasy, murdering traitor in the halls. Dragged by his ear into what was now the seventh year Dark Arts class, Carrow proceeded to rant loudly about honouring your betters and knowing your place. After nearly ten minutes of shouting, Professor Carrow placed Alexander in the centre of the class and instructed the students to form a circle around him.

“Now class,” Carrow said cruelly, “you will be the enforcers to your peers. Instruct Mr. Bennet here on the wisdom of respecting his betters.”

For a long moment, everyone just stood there. Padma glanced nervously around the circle, wondering what was about to happen. She could see the worried looks in most of her classmate’s eyes, though a few Slytherins bore an expression more akin to anticipation. After a short silence, Professor Carrow barked, “What are you waiting for?! Wands out! Take this opportunity to practice your slicing hexes. Crabbe, you will begin.”

Taking a step forward, Crabbe raised his wand and threw one of the stronger slicing hexes at Bennet’s right thigh. Alexander gasped, as did several of the others watching, and clutched his leg. Bright scarlet blood stained his hands and a groan tore through his throat.

Carrow stood behind Crabbe and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well done, Mr Crabbe. Next time, be more careful with your aim. Now you, Goyle. Show us what you’ve learned.”

This continued for several students while the rest of the class stared on in shock. When each of the Slytherins had taken their turn, Amycus turned to Neville Longbottom. “Now boy, give us your best hex. You’re as pure as they come. You should be able to give us a good show.”

Neville squared his shoulders and shook his head once. “I won’t do it.”

Carrow stalked menacingly towards him and growled in his face, “You will do as your teacher has asked. This is part of our lesson and is not subject to negotiation.”

“No. This is wrong, and I won’t be a part of it,” Neville said firmly, not backing down.

In the blink of an eye, Carrow backhanded Neville across the face hard enough to make him stagger backwards. “You would do well to listen to your elders, Longbottom. There are many who have less patience than I. Finnigan! Your hex now.”

Seamus looked at Neville with wide eyes for a long moment, then slowly shook his head. “Neville is right. I won’t be a part of this.”

Padma watched in open-mouthed shock as Professor Carrow pointed his wand at Seamus and flung him into the centre of the circle with Alexander. With an undisguised fury, he bellowed, “You are only here by the good graces of Headmaster Snape and the benevolence of our Lord! Were it my choice, Halfbloods would go the same way as the rest of the filth that contaminates our world. If it is their will that your kind remain with us, then you shall know your place!”

Amycus Carrow’s face was nearly purple with rage and small droplets of spit were flying from his mouth as he shouted. Turning to the next person, he pointed at the centre of the circle and said viciously, “A hex for each. NOW!”

Feeling the burn of tears in her eyes, Padma watched her sister tremulously raise her wand. It took her three tries to cast successfully with her quavering voice, just barely glancing off the back of Alexander’s left hand. Carrow stood close behind her and said mercilessly, “Again.”

Seamus stood resolutely as Parvati landed a hex on his left shoulder. There was a slight wince, but he maintained eye contact with Carrow, normally bright eyes scowling. Carrow pursed his lips and deepened his own scowl before snarling, “Next!”

It was like something out of a nightmare, yet all the worse for actually being real. With each student who took their reluctant turn at the bleeding boys in the centre of the room, Padma felt the sick feeling of helplessness begin to rise like bile in her throat. When Professor Carrow turned to her, she thought for a moment that when she opened her mouth to speak she would throw up, but instead her voice spoke the words of the hex almost automatically. As the line of blood began to well up on Alexander’s shin, she railed against her mind’s ability to carry through with this against her own wishes. She was disgusted with herself, even as she raised her wand and cast at Seamus. How could she do this?

Once Carrow had gone around the entire circle, and let some of the Slytherins have a second shot, he surveyed the class slowly, taking particular note of the furious expression on Neville’s face. “What you have learned here is a very important lesson. Respect your elders. Respect your superiors. Know your place. Some of you need more diligent practice to improve the aim and strength of your hexes. The opportunity to practice will, no doubt, be provided for you in the future. In the meantime, I strongly suggest you study this lesson carefully, so that when the time comes I will have no need to be so sorely disappointed by your performance. Dismissed!”

There was a long pause, then a flurry of movement as everyone hurried to collect their bags and leave. Everyone was trying to see if Alexander and Seamus were alright without appearing to be looking at them. The Slytherins had already left the room, but several from other houses hung back, ready to offer assistance to the boys if it would be allowed.

Professor Carrow moved himself between the boys on the floor and the remaining students. “Your lesson is over and you are dismissed. Leave! Part of their lesson,” he spat, gesturing towards Seamus and Alexander, “is that those who do not know their place and respect their betters do not deserve assistance. If they wish their injuries to be tended, they must do so on their own. Have I made myself clear?!”

With that, the stragglers, Padma included, hurried out of the room. It felt awful to leave them behind, but there was little else she could do. Once far away from the classroom and quite alone with her friends, Padma ducked into a quiet alcove and collapsed onto the smooth stone bench. Morag leaned against the wall and Mandy simply slumped to the floor. For a few minutes, all any of them could do was shake with the release of fear and adrenaline.

“Now I’m certain coming back was a bad idea,” Morag whispered shakily.

Mandy nodded. “I don’t think I can take another ‘lesson’ like that.”

Padma had closed her eyes and took several long breathes, each becoming slightly less shaky. “No, but I think I truly understand the lesson Flitwick was trying to give me.”

“Which was?” Mandy asked weakly.

“There will be times when even the teachers we trust cannot help us. We need to get to the library,” Padma stated as firmly as she could manage.

“What good will going to the library do against him, Padma? We aren’t going to find a charm to make Professor Carrow kind and compassionate,” Mandy said slightly desperately.

Padma nodded in agreement. “True enough, but we will be able to find what we need to take care of our own. If this is the sort of ‘discipline’ being meted out this year, then a bit of research on healing spells and potions will be invaluable.”

Morag slowly moved to help Mandy stand and together they collected their things. Once they had regained some of their composure, Morag nodded to Padma. “You’re right. We’re going to need our research skills more than ever. The library it is.”

***

It was two days before Padma saw either Alexander or Seamus, and when she did, what she saw made her stomach twist with disgust all over again. Both boys appeared in the Great Hall for breakfast on Monday morning, Seamus leaning heavily on Neville’s shoulder. At a glance, it was apparent that while both boys had received some treatment for their injuries, Seamus had clearly been given the bare minimum of care. Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t have dreamed of making either suffer, but it was obvious someone had curtailed her efforts. Glancing up at the head table, Padma watched Headmaster Snape’s expression, but it remained cold and aloof. It was painful see him sitting in Dumbledore’s old chair, watching the students with such indifference as two of his charges limped to their seats.

Alexander still had a few bandages on his arms, though most of his cuts appeared to be sealed. She furrowed her brow at this. The spell for sealing wounds, particularly superficial ones, was very basic. Most of the visible cuts on Alexander’s face were not sealed, but clotted and left to heal on their own. There were only one or two cuts she had noticed that might have left scarring even with proper care, but most were completely treatable, in less than twelve hours for that matter. Instead, nearly all his cuts would leave a mark.

Seamus was limping far more than she would have expected and Padma wondered just what had happened when everyone had left the room. Guilt burned at her insides. What had they done? From what was visible of his face, Seamus was not only cut, but severely bruised. His heavily bandaged hands trembled as he tried to spoon his porridge, most of it dripping off before it reached his mouth. Neville seemed to be doing his best to help his friend without embarrassing him, but the deep purple bruising around his own eye spoke of the damage done for his defiance.

Dropping her spoon with a clatter, Padma dropped her head and swallowed heavily, trying to keep what little she had just eaten from coming back up. Without really considering just how early she would be for class, Padma picked up her bag and left the table. She wasn’t hungry anymore.

Her footsteps brought her to the Charms classroom without her even being aware of the route she travelled. A quick glance at her watch showed she was more than half an hour early for class and there was likely no one there to let her in. Trying the door, she was surprised to find it open and pushed her way inside.

The Charms classroom was usually a noisy room with all manner of objects flying through the air. Professor Flitwick favoured a wands-on approach to teaching and rarely lectured. Most students she knew liked his classes, even if there was usually a lot of foolishness and wasted time, or perhaps because of it. The classroom now was disturbingly quiet, a small, lone figure sitting in a tall wooden swivel chair at the front desk. Professor Flitwick wasn’t grading student papers or checking over his notes for the upcoming lesson. He appeared to be simply staring off into space. Trying not to disturb him, Padma slid into her usual chair at the front near the window and watched the sun spill light over the rugged terrain of Hogwarts.

“I wish it was a lesson I never needed to impart, Padma. You do understand why,” the tiny Professor said in an equally small voice.

“We were told to leave, Professor. I wasn’t even allowed to help.”

“No, you weren’t. But then, I had always expected the first one to be very brutal and unforgiving. It is to make an example of them. To dissuade others from trying.”

“I feel ashamed that I was a part of it. I didn’t stand up to him.”

Professor Flitwick hopped off his chair and shuffled across the room to stand near her at the window. “It is, perhaps, an unwinnable battle, but there are those who feel the need to fight it anyway. Not everyone is meant to put themselves forward. We all have different proclivities, but it doesn’t make us weak to acknowledge we are lacking in an area. I myself am not able to put myself forward, as those boys did, but I am able to be a facilitator for aid even if I am not permitted to give it myself.”

“Professor?” Padma asked, not certain of the message he was trying to convey.

“You see, I have this storage room through the door at the front of the class, and I find myself forgetful some days. Today it has completely slipped my mind that we require two dozen clay flowerpots from the top shelf where I couldn’t possibly reach them myself. Please use the opportunity wisely,” he told her and patted her hand before returning to his desk.

Still a bit confused, Padma pulled out her Charms text and tried to review the most recent chapter while Professor Flitwick began levitating a piece of chalk to write the notes for today’s lesson on the board. Not a minute later, several students burst through the door full of chatter and gossip. Padma didn’t pay much attention to them, even when Mandy and Morag slipped into their usual seats near her. She gave a brief thought to Lisa Turpin, who was quite brilliant with Charms, and wondered what her life was like if she wasn’t here. All four houses of seventh years were in the room, but it still felt very empty with so many familiar faces absent.

Just before class began, Seamus and Neville hobbled into the room, both looking uncomfortable and exhausted already. The only seats left were right at the front of the room and Seamus collapsed heavily into the uncomfortable wooden chair while Neville unloaded the two book bags he was carrying. All the chatter had stopped when they entered, though a few snickers could be heard from the large Slytherin contingent at the back. There was no doubt that everyone was watching them.

Professor Flitwick turned to face the rest of the class, as if he knew nothing of what had been transpiring behind his back while he made notes on the board. Pointing to Neville, who was still standing, he said, “Mr. Longbottom, as it seems you haven’t yet sat down, perhaps your tardiness might be of assistance. We require two dozen clay flowerpots from the storage room. Miss Patil will show you where they are kept. Please endeavour not to break them before we have even begun.”

Padma started when she heard her name and stood quickly, her heart suddenly fluttering in her throat. Flitwick had just arranged for her to have a moment to speak with Neville privately without anyone being aware they had spoken. Neville, looking slightly taken aback at the clipped tone of the usually genial professor, followed her into the storage room.

The storage room was far more than the cupboard one might have expected. It was at least half the size of the classroom itself and contained several rows of shelves. The clay pots Flitwick had asked for were down the furthest set of shelves at the very back of the room. In fact, it was the most concealed spot in the room. Hurrying down the narrow aisle, Padma gestured at Neville and whispered, “We don’t have much time. Did Madam Pomfey treat any of Seamus’ injuries?”

Neville shook his head. “Only the two cuts that were bleeding the worst. She did give him some gauze bandages but Snape was in the infirmary making sure she only took care of the potentially life threatening stuff. We’ve done our best to take care of the rest of it on our own.”

Padma nodded. It was more or less what she had guessed. “What do you have right before lunch? I know you and Seamus aren’t in Arithmancy.”

“Advanced Herbology in greenhouse seven. Why?” he inquired.

“I don’t know a lot, but I can probably do a bit to help Seamus out. Healing charms and whatnot. Unfortunately I don’t have anything for bruises,” she told him with a weak smile.

The corner of Neville’s mouth turned up at that. “Don’t worry about it. Ginny’s working on this salve her brothers used while they were testing punching telescopes. Says it should be ready tomorrow. I’ll live.”

“Professor Spout keeps most of her infirmary grade plants in greenhouse four, right?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t let students in most of the time because she’s very fussy about their care. She doesn’t want to risk any accidents damaging important supplies for the school.”

“Would she let you in?” Padma asked, knowing Neville was a favourite of the Herbology Professor.

Neville nodded. “Probably. So long as none of the... others... knew about it. She doesn’t like them mucking around in her greenhouses and has managed to keep most of them out of there.”

The others, were of course the many Death Eaters assigned to the school to poke their nose into everything and make sure the older staff, Dumbledore’s staff, did as they were told. Padma considered their chances of getting in and hoped Neville was a good sweet talker. “Alright. I’ll meet you in greenhouse four as soon as I can get down from the castle. I’ll try to grab some lunch on my way if I can manage it. That will give us a good half hour before we need to head back to the castle for Transfiguration. Now, we had better get those pots before the class starts wondering what is taking us so long.”

Though he looked like he was going to say something, Neville simply shrugged and began levitating pots off the top shelf.

***

Part III