Chapter 33
Exclusive to The Quibbler, from an anonymous correspondent
“Hogwarts is a magical school, mum. Why are they trying to kill all the magic from it?”Our readers will recall this magazine has reported the whispers about a certain member of Hogwarts staff. He wore a hooded robe a little too comfortably, and was once suspected, though never convicted, to have served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself. This publication has always believed that where there is smoke, there is very often a Blibbering Humdinger stirring the fire. But what our correspondent has uncovered suggests something far more insidious than old rumors: a slow, deliberate campaign to smother magic in the young before it can even catch fire.
We were given excerpts from correspondences said to have passed between a Hogwarts student and their parents over the course of a disheartening term. We reproduce here only fragments, as our correspondent insists on protecting the family’s identity from retaliation.
“...he asks questions that aren’t in the [REDACTED] book, and that he didn’t explain yet, then takes points away when I can’t answer. It isn’t fair, mum. How does he expect me to know things if he isn’t teaching?”
“...when [REDACTED] failed to brew a [REDACTED] [REDACTED]. He didn’t explain what she did wrong. Instead, [REDACTED] called her names, insulted her and made her cry.”And this problem doesn’t seem centered on a single professor, either.
“…doesn’t teach us how to defend ourselves, or how to use the spells or even basic knowledge about dark creatures. He keeps asking us to write poems about his adventures, most of which I think are fake, mum. Several of them seemed to have happened at the same time. They are great fantasies, though.”Alarmed, the student’s mother wrote — more than once, our correspondent tells us — to the school, but no action was ever taken and the complaints disappeared into the great grey nothing with no inquiry, no investigation, and no changes. This editor does wonder who reads the post at Hogwarts these days, and whether it is being read at all, or merely filed somewhere it will never trouble anyone with power to act.
If smothering the desire to learn magic from young wizards and witches wasn’t enough, children are being attacked in school grounds and Hogwarts’ faculty, alongside with the venal lot at the Ministry have gone overboard to keep it out of the public’s eyes.
A first year has been a victim of the foulest dark magic and petrified, but nothing has been done about it. The culprit is still at large, plotting to threaten even more of our children. And yet, no other newspaper or magazine has reported or published anything about the attack.
Readers will not need reminding that this is far from the first occasion the school’s walls have failed to keep danger out. The attack on the castle was not an isolated horror. It is not even the first time this same monster attacked children inside the school. Half a century ago the same creature struck, resulting in the death of a student. More recently, just last year, a troll invaded the school and put young students at risk during the Halloween feast.
Rather than a coincidence, a pattern begins to emerge if one only pays a little attention: a school that cannot stop evil from stalking its corridors, staffed in part by those who seem to actively prefer their students never learn to defend themselves.
A frightened wizard who doesn’t know his charms can’t fight back. A wizard who dislikes magic won’t ever try to learn more about it.
The Rotfang Conspiracy, Once More
It will not surprise longtime readers where this leads. This publication has documented, for years, the reach of the Rotfang Conspiracy, though it was not yet known by this name. It is the patient effort by elements within the Ministry to hollow out the wizarding world from the inside, leaving it fangless, and entirely too easy to govern. They tried it with the Floo Network, infesting it with Wrackspurts to muddle our minds, but now they have a better target. What better instrument for such a plan than the schoolroom itself? Bleed the magic out of the next generation slowly enough, and nobody notices the wandwork has gone soft until it is far too late to matter.
A professor who torments his students, and another who refuses to teach magic. A school that can’t keep its students out of danger and does nothing when a mother cries for justice. An evil horror allowed to stalk the halls more than once, killing our children.
Individually, these might be dismissed as bad luck, poor management, or overworked professors.
Together, they look like a conspiracy against magic itself.
The Quibbler will, naturally, continue to investigate and report, assuming this issue reaches you at all, and is not quietly redirected en route by more Rotfang-friendly postal owls.
The article went on, bringing up details about the attacks and more info about the supposed Death Eater professor, but Taylor wasn’t reading anymore.
“What’s wrong?”
Taylor didn’t notice the voice, only reacting when Luna cupped her face. She almost lashed out, surprised, then had to hold back the bugs inside the train.
It was Luna, her friend. And it wasn’t Luna’s fault. It might not even be her dad’s fault.
Back during Eve dinner, he’d been excited about this new correspondent and the new story he got from them. He also didn’t seem to be acting when they met at the train station for the first time. But Xenophilius had gotten a hold of Taylor’s letters, somehow.
“I wrote that,” she gritted out, “in the missing letters I sent to mum.”
Luna looked at the now discarded magazine.
“We can ask daddy who gave them the letters and the story.”
“Would he tell us?”
Luna nodded, serious. “Daddy won’t keep a secret from me.”
Taylor took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.
“Not by owl,” she said. “We ask him in person.”
“You can come stay in my house during the Easter holidays.”
“Can mum come too?” Taylor asked, grinning despite the situation.
Luna tilted her head. “I’ll tell daddy about it.”
The rest of the train trip went about without interruptions. Taylor helped Arabelle back into the cage, and together with Luna, they got into a carriage and returned to the school.
Unfortunately, it didn’t seem Taylor would have a quiet start of term. She hadn’t even gotten to her common room when she was intercepted by Professor Flitwick.
“Miss Hebert, there you are,” he said. He wasn’t smiling. “The headmaster wants a word with you. Follow me if you please.”
With one quiet glance at Luna, who looked like she wanted to come as well, Taylor followed the professor.
“What is this about, Professor?” she asked, although she could guess the reason.
“Nothing serious,” Flitwick said. His voice sounded funny, strained. “Just to clarify some doubts.”
Taylor didn’t often spy on school faculty, but there were a few bugs inside the headmaster’s office. She made sure there were no bugs where she didn’t want to spy on, but the few days she wasn’t at the school seemed enough for bugs to migrate to places she had kept bug free.
Inside the office, her bugs could see a fuming Snape arguing with McGonagall, while the headmaster sat on his chair. There was no twinkling in his eyes, or an easy smile on his face.
Flitwick gave the gargoyle the password and led her up the circular staircase.
Dumbledore’s office was a large and beautiful circular room. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke and tinkling sounds. The walls were covered with portraits of old men and women, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tainted wizard’s hat.
Once they were inside, all eyes were immediately on her.
Taylor stared ahead, not looking at anyone in particular. Instead of feeling afraid, or agitated she felt… calm, like this was happening to someone else.
“Hello, Taylor,” the headmaster said. “Please, have a seat.”
She did as he asked.
A lot of scenarios came to her mind. Had they discovered her bug powers? Was this about the curse or blowing Snape’s laboratory? It probably wasn’t the bugs. They would have cleaned all the bugs from the castle if that was the case.
“You wanted to talk with me, headmaster?”
“Welcome back to Hogwarts,” the headmaster said, his face back in that easy, grandfatherly smile. “I hope you had a good holiday?”
Taylor nodded. “Luna came to visit,” she admitted. “We went to the movies, and the arcade. Luna even got a plushie.”
“That is lovely,” Dumbledore said, still with that grandfatherly smile of his. “I have some questions I’d like you to answer, please.”
Taylor nodded.
“At the end of last term before holidays, there was an accident in the potions laboratory. One of Severus' potions blew up.”
“It was no accident,” Snape growled, looming over Taylor. “It was her.”
“Severus,” the headmaster said, his voice stern.
Snape backed off.
“Do you know anything about that?”
Taylor didn’t have to think too much about it.
“No.”
“She’s lying,” Snape hissed. “She used Boomslang skin to cause an explosion in my potion. She’s probably behind those lies The Quibbler is spouting, too.”
Taylor finally took her eyes away from the wall. She glared at Snape, staring into the man’s hateful eyes.
“I didn’t do anything to your stupid potion,” she shot back. “Why don’t you tell everyone why you think I did it? Or you don’t have the guts to admit how you treat us in your class? Are you only brave when tormenting us and making Pippa cry?”
There was a moment of silence.
McGonagall had a hand to her mouth. Flitwick’s ears were red. Dumbledore’s gaze was inscrutable as ever.
Then Taylor felt something in the back of her head. It was like a squiggling worm trying to dig through her thoughts and memories.
Time seemed to freeze. She immediately understood that Snape was doing something to her head, something he shouldn’t be doing.
Taylor had never been so aware of her power like she was now. She always thought of her power as just another part of herself, but now… It was like it had a will of its own, and it wanted to hurt Snape. It wanted to hurt Snape real bad.
Was Snape the one who erased her mum’s memories? Was he trying to do the same to her? In the privacy of her mind, Taylor didn’t have any regrets when she commanded her power to ‘hurt him’.
Several things happened at the same time.
Taylor watched in slow motion as Snape was flung back, his hand going to his head. Blood poured out of his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. There was a crash sound behind Taylor. The portraits on the walls rattled, and the glasses on the shelves trembled. The potions professor crashed against the spindle-legged tables, scattering the paraphernalia and breaking several of the gizmos on top of it.
Taylor was standing too; she didn’t remember doing that. The chair she had been sitting on lay a few feet back, a leg broken.
Flitwick and McGonagall seemed too stunned to react, but the headmaster had stood as well, and Taylor noticed he had his wand in hand, although not pointing at anything.
“Severus!” McGonagall cried out a beat later, but the headmaster had already reached the potions professor. The old wizard murmured words, moving the odd looking wand gently up and down.
“He needs urgent care,” Dumbledore said. With a pop, both he and Snape disappeared.
Flitwick was looking at Taylor like he’d never seen her before.
McGonagall on the other hand, after staring at where Snape fell for a beat longer, rounded on Taylor.
“What did you do, Ms. Hebert?”
Taylor crossed her arms. She had no idea what happened, besides knowing that her power did something.
“I want my mum.”