Staying Strong

Halloween and Hogsmeade

September rolled by slowly, as did most of October. The days were becoming steadily chillier, and the autumn breezes kicked in.

It was now the week of Halloween, and everyone was looking forward to going to Hogsmeade this weekend. Hogsmeade visits were extremely limited: Now, there would be only three visits to the village per year. One on Halloween, one before Christmas, and another before Easter.

Meanwhile, classes were a nightmare. In Defense against the Dark Arts (now shortened to just “The Dark Arts”) we were being taught all about illegal jinxes and spells, most of which caused permanent damage to the victim. (Thankfully, we practiced on animals.)

Muggle-Studies, on the other hand, was mental torture. Alecto would talk about how muggles were just like animals and should therefore be treated like ones. A few students lashed out on her, and they were humiliated in front of the class with the Imperius curse.

I was so glad that there was the Hogsmeade weekend and the Halloween feast to look forward to.

I was in the far corner of the library, silently completing my homework. I had gone to the restricted section twice today for my “Ancient Dark Magic” essay.

The restricted section is a horrible place. Many of the books are covered in blood, others attempt to bite your fingers off, and I ran across one that tries to strangle the holder.

The problem is that the restricted section is no longer restricted. The school has no problem letting students learn the Dark Arts anymore. In fact, they encouraged it.

Just as I had finished writing my essay, however, I was joined by Neville.

“Hello, Neville.” I said to him. I hadn’t talked to Neville all day since breakfast. As I looked up, I gasped. On Neville’s cheek was a large, deep gash.

“Neville!” I said, alarmed. Perhaps I had said that too loud, because Madame Pince was now giving me a disapproving glare from behind her desk.

“What?” he asked.

“Your face! Look!” I whispered, pointing at the cut.

“Oh, this? It’s nothing; Alecto gave it to me…” he said dismissively.

“Neville, what happened?” I demanded.

“Well… I was in Muggle-Studies class an hour ago. Alecto was rambling on, as usual, about how muggles are evil prats…and then I asked her how much magical blood she and her brother really had, and then she got mad at me and jinxed me, which gave me this.” he finished, pointing at the, large, bloody gash.

I was watching him, my mouth gaping. I couldn’t believe how much Neville had changed. Before, he was a clumsy, shy little boy that barely excelled in any subjects other than Herbology. Now, he was so…brave.

“Neville, what happened to you over the summer?” I asked him.

Neville laughed. “You should have seen everyone’s reaction in the classroom when I talked back to Alecto. It’s like nobody ever expected anything out of me.” he said, frowning. “Anyway, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Well, the past two months here have been terrible, right? I mean, Death Eaters surrounding the castle, the Carrows…”

“Yeah,” I said, curious as to what he was trying to say.

“Well, I think we should bring the D.A back.” he declared.