A Valentine’s Day Rebellion - Chapter Three
Saturday, February 14th, 1998. Valentine’s Day.
An excited murmur rang through the Great Hall as breakfast was running to a close. At first a collective groan had escaped most students as it seemed like a reminder of the Common Rooms’ notice appeared on everyone’s plate, but it had turned to a gasp of joy as people took hold of it to toss it away and saw the words change. Those few who had seen it first had then excitedly whispered to their neighbours, who gingerly took their own piece of paper and saw for themselves what their friends were on about.
The Carrow siblings were yelling for silence but none of the students appeared to hear them. The other teachers pretended not to notice the atmosphere in the Hall.
Then the Headmaster rose from his seat at the High Table and commanded a first year Ravenclaw sitting directly in front of him: “Mister Michaels, would you be so kind as to bring me that piece of paper.” Silence fell over the Great Hall immediately as all students held their breath, eyes on the Headmaster as he reached for the piece of paper. Neville and Ginny crossed their fingers under the table as they hoped their Age Lock would work. After all, there had not been any adults around whom they could ask to test it. Even asking Professor McGonagall had seemed too risky, but now they half wished they had taken the chance.
At long last, Professor Snape looked up from the piece of paper and tapped his plate three times. Instantly, an aged house elf appeared, bowing low. “You called, Headmaster?”
“Pokey, can you inform me what this is?” Professor Snape handed the piece of paper to the house elf.
“Tis a notice, sir Headmaster,” Pokey answered, sounding puzzled. “Sir wants us to put these up in the Common Rooms weeks ago, and we dids, sir.”
“I know that, Pokey,” the Headmaster frowned. “Do you have any idea how they ended up on every students’ plate this morning?”
Pokey appeared to think deeply for a time, and the Carrow woman, not known for her patience, offered to “refresh its memory” with a Cruciatus Curse, but Professor Snape held up a hand to signal her to wait.
“Pokey is not knowing, sir Headmaster. But Pokey is knowing Kreacher was asking to set the plates, sir.”
“Kreacher!” yelled Professor Snape and with a pop, said house elf appeared. Before the house elf could speak a word though, Professor Snape handed him the note. “Kindly explain yourself, Kreacher.” This time though, he wasn’t fast enough to stop the Carrows –both of them, at the same time – from casting the Cruciatus on the newly arrived house elf and Kreacher couldn’t answer for screaming. “Enough!” Snape fixed his glare onto the two Death Eaters. “How am I supposed to get an answer out of the elf if you idiots torture him?” Surprised looks came his direction from all of the teachers and the few students who hadn’t buried their face in their hands to shield themselves from watching the torture. They were quick to look away again and attempt a more neutral facial expression, but at least the words didn’t miss the desired effect on the Carrow siblings, who both put down their wands and contented themselves with murderous glares.
Still shaking, Kreacher fought to answer: “Kreacher is only meaning to help, Sir. Kreacher is hearing some students talk about cards and parties, so Kreacher is thinking maybe the students is needing a reminder.”
“Which students?” asked Snape silkily while glaring at the assembled students, especially at the Gryffindor table.
Kreacher only shook his head: “Kreacher is not knowing student names, sir. Kreacher is only hearing their voices as they is passing the kitchen entrance.”
Ginny and Neville glanced at each other across the table, both with the same question in their eyes: Do you think he’s buying it?
At last Professor Snape sighed. “That will be all, Kreacher.” With a pop and a barely glimpsed look of relief on his little face, Kreacher disappeared. Turning to the older elf, Professor Snape spoke: “Pokey, lunch and dinner will be cancelled for today. Unless any student wishes to inform me what was so funny about the notice on your plates?” He looked around the Hall but although there was much fidgeting, no one appeared able to sensibly answer him. A fifth year Slytherin stood up as if to answer, but he only spoke gibberish as he slapped his hand over his mouth and sat down in embarrassment. “Alright then,” said Snape silkily. “I surmise none of you are hungry anymore. Fine then. Everyone is confined to their own Common Rooms. Dismissed!”
“Well, that worked out nicely,” grinned Neville as he and Ginny got back to the Gryffindor Common Room as ordered. “And as for the food, I think we have plenty in the Room to get by for the whole weekend if need be!”
“Yep, and then some,” Ginny smiled back. “Orders or no, the kitchen elves never turned down a hungry student before. Dobby could get into the Room before, Harry said, and Winky was already waiting for us yesterday too. I don’t want to involve too many elves though. Snape might figure something out and I don’t want them punished for our actions.”
“Yeah, me neither,” nodded Neville. “Still, I think there should be plenty to last us a while…”
***
The Room had really outdone itself even more than Neville and Ginny had anticipated. With secret passages direct to all four of the Common Rooms, there was no fear of getting caught wandering the hallways and running into the now very foul-tempered Carrows or Snape. Soon after breakfast, the first students started to trickle in. At first there were mostly only the DA members, but slowly other students braved the newly-appeared passages too. In their best clothes and with mouths agape with wonder, they looked around. Many expressed surprise at how a space like this could exist but the DA members all pretended to be equally clueless so as not to garner any suspicion. All they said, as per Neville’s instructions, was: “I guess Hogwarts didn’t want us to miss Valentine’s Day.”
Soon the sofas and chairs were filled with students. As Neville had predicted, a fair few of them were mixed-House and the rare Slytherins who had dared to disobey the Headmaster were now snuggled up with their Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff sweethearts. Some who had loved ones outside of the school were at the tables writing their cards as they hadn’t been able to send those off before, and the Room obliged those students too with a passage to the Owlery. Even Neville and Ginny couldn’t begin to explain that one as the Owlery wasn’t even technically in the Castle, but then they never found an explanation for the rest of the Room’s magic either.
***
As Neville sat staring into the fire, a voice suddenly pulled him out of his reverie: “In Finland they celebrate Friends Day today. Did you know?”
“Luna?” he turned around.
“Sorry, no,” smiled Hannah. ”Are you okay? I know you’re missing her.”
“Yes,” Neville forced a smile, but Hannah knew him too well and just cocked an eyebrow. “Honest answer?” She nodded. “Fine. No I’m not okay, I am missing her. So much…”
“She’ll be okay, you know. She’s a survivor, Luna is.” Hannah sat down on the armrest of Neville’s chair, lightly stroking his hair as he leaned into her. “And so are you, by the way. Just look at all you accomplished this year, or even just today.”
“Me? No. I’m nothing special, really…”
“You really think that, don’t you?” Hannah shook her head. ”Neville, you have been through so much. Who else could go through all that and come out fighting, stronger for all of those setbacks? Harry? Maybe. He went through a lot too. Largely the same you did, if you think about it.”
“Born as the seventh month dies…” mumbled Neville, the half-remembered prophesy from the Department of Mysteries making an unbidden reappearance. ”Yeah, I guess we did have a similar life in a way. But even so…”
“No, Neville,” Hannah cut him off. “You are your own person. Don’t you go thinking you’re less than him, or anyone. He may be the Chosen One everyone is counting on, but you are the one all of us here are relying on. You have grown so much, Neville. Everyone can see it but you.”
“Thanks, Hannah. You’re a good friend,” Neville smiled.
“Stubborn git!” Hannah lightly smacked his head. “I’m going to get something to drink. You want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good. You go have fun.” As she turned to walk away, Neville called: “Hey, Hannah? Thanks. For listening, I mean.”
“You’re welcome, Neville,” she smiled back. “Isn’t that what friends are for?”