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! chapter twenty-nine !
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HOGWARTS HAD CHANGED DRASTICALLY with the death of Albus Dumbledore. Ignoring the fact that Snape was headmaster—many other things were wrong at the place Haven used to consider her home. For starters, having Death Eaters patrolling the halls and lurking at every corner definitely wasn't ideal. Being shoved in one giant room with the rest of the seven years wasn't either. Having to march everywhere they went like they were in the military, not being able to eat unless you did what the professors asked, beaten until your vision went blurry and your face was covered in blood. Those were just a few things she could list off the top of her head.
Hogwarts was hell. And it was no understatement to say that it was worse than when Umbridge was in charge. Much, much worse. In fact, Haven would prefer for the woman to be back in charge. That's how bad Hogwarts had gotten. Haven sighed, shifting on her bed as she pried herself away from her thoughts. She dipped her quill into some ink as she continued to write her letter.
Dear Harry,
I'll make this quick because I'm not sure how much time I have until curfew check happens. It could occur at any moment, as I'm sure I've told you before.
Snape is getting restless—more so than he was before. I think he knows something about the rebellion. I don't believe that someone has ratted us out, but I wouldn't be opposed to the idea. After all, the entire year seven is crowded into one room, it'd be impossible for someone not to let anything slip up. Besides that, the rebellion is doing awful. Neville got socked in the face by one of the Death Eaters, but personally, I think it was worth it. It was a second year, Harry. They were going to do it on a second year. Can you believe that? Completely mental, that is. People are disappearing overnight, and coming back days later with bruises and cuts all over their faces. I know who's behind it, and I know you do too. That's why I need you guys to hurry.
I know you're wondering, so I'll just tell you. No word from Draco. He's been silent for the past week, I'm beginning to worry. I know he only sends out letters to let me know what is going on in the outside world, but usually he sends something small to let me know he's alright. But I've gotten nothing. I've been tempted to send an owl to him myself, but that'd be stupid and reckless. I'm already risking enough by sending you an update every four days. I'm sorry to hear about the Horcrux. By now, I hope you've had some development on the case.
I'm doing everything I can to research, but even our library time is restricted. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. The Death Eaters have surely gone through every book to make sure there wasn't any piece of information on Voldemort in any of them.
I miss you. Malory, too. We all do.
Haven
"Hurry, Journey," Haven whispered, cracking open the window slightly, and her owl quickly flew out. She closed it, readjusting the bars to make it look like they hadn't been tempered with. Haven straightened up from her hammock as the door opened, and two Death Eaters waltzed in.
