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Author: Imogen Story: Nil Desperandum Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-OotP Status: WIP Reviews: 3 Words: 49,808
Chapter 4: A Call to Arms Soft golden rays of sunlight glittered across the rippling lake, casting away the cold, hard light that steels the world before dawn. Nothing broke the surface, bar the wind that rumpled it like silk beneath its breath with promises of a beautiful day. All was still and silent for as far as the eye could see. In the forest that framed the boundaries of Hogwarts grounds, some of the animals stirred, yet the tiniest of Nifflers to the largest of monsters remained muffled securely with loved ones in burrows and lairs. The castle too was asleep, all save one. She was crouched on the window ledge beside her bed, a tiny figure half-lost in her large white nightdress. Had anyone been watching, they would have seen her bright red hair glinting in the morning sun and a fierce hand scrubbing away what might have been falling tears; as it was, there was no one there. Hope sniffled quietly to herself and hugged her knees tightly to her chest. Watching the water was soothing somehow, and as the dark night faded to day her hopes rose that Uncles Fred and George might be able to help her. Pressing against the glass made her feel like there might be an escape from this terrible place: there had to be some way out, she just had to find her way through. The heavy regular breaths of her classmates continued unchecked. A sigh and a rustle as someone further down the room rolled over and a soft snoring began again. Hope shivered as the chill of the window penetrated through her thin cotton gown, bringing with it the reality that it was almost morning and she would soon have to face yet another day. If Balthasar returned, she'd have to send him out with a note for Mum and Dad, who she knew would be frantic with worry about her by now, but even the thought of what her news would do to them made her stomach twist itself in knots. She hadn't got a clue about how she could even begin to tell them about something as terrible as this. They wouldn't be mad, but she could just see her dad's face when she sent the letter and his dreadful disappointment in her. A sob choked in her throat, and she stared blindly over the lake once more. Home was over there somewhere, so near she could almost touch it. If only she could talk to her dad and explain things, he'd fix it somehow. Before the idea had even formed in her mind, she had her trunk open and was pulling on her clothes. Her robes were tugged over her head and buttoned haphazardly with trembling fingers, and with a final glance around her dormitory, she grabbed her wand and her cloak and tiptoed to the door. The door creaked badly as it opened; Hope cringed away from the noise. She held her breath, fearing discovery, but even Parkinson, in the bed by the door, slept on. Moving stealthily onto the spiral staircase, she pulled the heavy wooden door closed behind her, the iron hoop of a handle cold against her sweating palms. Silently she padded down the worn stone stairs and slipped out of the archway into the shadows of the common room beyond. Her heart was pounding so loudly by now that she was convinced she'd wake the entire house. What if someone was there? Would they try and stop her? Her eyes flickered nervously around the chairs and tables, seeing no signs of life other than a few books and pieces of homework some people had left strewn there from the night before. Even the fire had been damped down for the night and no house elf was yet there to stoke it again; blackened coal lined the deadened grate. Throwing her cloak quickly around her shoulders, she made sure that the hood was covering her hair. She'd be identified from that alone if anyone saw her. Weasley red was nothing, if not distinctive, and another sigh escaped at the thought of her family. Why couldn't she have inherited the Gryffindor genes as well as the hair, then none of this would be happening? Hope made a break for it and shot through the centre of the common room and out of the door into the corridor before anyone came downstairs to stop her. Out in the corridor she could breathe again. She slunk along the edges of the passageways, taking care to keep to the shadows and away from the brightly lit torches that flamed along the walls. Slowly and carefully she made her way upwards, finally arriving on the edge of the grand entrance hall itself where the many painted figures were dozing in their frames. She dodged quickly behind a suit of armour, which turned to look curiously at her. "I'm not here," she hissed. The helmet creaked curiously and she shook her head and glared at it in her best impersonation of Granny when she was angry with Uncles Fred and George. That did the trick, and the armour creaked back to a standing position with a final noisy clank of irritation. Hope held her breath, her gaze travelling fearfully upwards. This was the main staircase and there could well be someone about on any of the floors above her, whether teacher, student or ghost. The thought of Peeves swooping down on her made her stomach do a queasy flip-flop. She'd come across the little poltergeist last night with Cora when he'd managed to empty a waste paper bin all over their heads. The memories of his little ditty still tugged at a nerve. It's rubbish young Potter For that's what you are: A Slytherin rotter Will never go far. "I'll show you just how far I can go," she growled beneath her breath. She wrapped her cloak more tightly around herself and made for the heavy oak door through which she'd come not that long ago, full of excitement to be here at last. And now here she was, tugging back the huge iron bolts with all her might, trying to get out again. The locks slid back and without stopping to look back, Hope slipped outside. The air was deliciously crisp, the sort of morning where she loved to fly. The sunlight was growing stronger now and unless she was quick, she'd not make it beyond the Hogwarts grounds before the school was waking for the day. She could be stopped so easily on the way to the gates and there was nothing to hide behind either: just wide open grassland and a few sparsely scattered trees. A grin suddenly spread across her face, and her heart skipped a beat. It was the perfect morning for flying, so why not borrow a broom? She'd be home before she knew it. She sprinted along the gravel path, skirting the edge of the castle towards the place she knew the broom sheds would be. For once she didn't find her knowledge of the castle to be unnerving, but with every crunching step her anticipation increased. She would just get a broom and go. Mum and Dad would understand after she'd explained it all to them and they could punish her anyway they chose. She'd rather scrub the kitchen for the next fifteen years than stay here. The door to the broom shed was locked and Hope tugged on the padlock with irritation. She should have read her Standard Book of Spells like Aunt Hermione had suggested, there might have been something in there that could have helped. But she hadn't and it was too late to worry about that now. She could hardly go back into her dormitory for a spell book, could she? She took a step backwards and surveyed the building. It was a long, low stone affair with the padlocked wooden doors and a row of high windows glittering golden in the sunlight, one of which wasn't as twinkly as the rest. As she looked closer her grin widened. She could do this. She scrabbled up the wall, using the uneven stone to lever herself upwards. Tiny footholds were good enough to painfully propel herself up those extra few feet and haul herself onto the windowsill. Her knees were sore from being scraped against the stone and one was starting to bleed where she'd knocked it, but the window was open. With a cry of triumph, she dropped inside. Row after row of silent brooms liked the racks, some polished to perfection, others covered in ghostly dust from years of disrepair. She seized a nearby Nimbus. She'd ridden Uncle Ron's old one a few times, enough to know she could get up a fair turn of speed on it if she had to. It wasn't as good as her Silver Lightning, but she'd be home again with that soon enough. The main thing was that this would work to get her there and she knew from listening to hours of discussion between her dad and Uncle Ron that Nimbus really did make the most reliable brooms out there. She mounted the broom and kicked off gently. It hovered a little way into the air and she nudged it forwards. Yes, this broom was just the thing. With a little pang at stealing someone's possession, she drifted upwards and opened the window wide. She'd return the broom later, she reassured herself as she felt the fresh air against her face. The broom shot forwards. She was free! Her exhilaration was almost impossible to contain. The sun was shining as she soared up above Hogwarts, the wind whipping at her robes and blowing her hood from her head. Her vibrant hair whirled around her in a tornado of tempestuous life and she pressed the broom to fly faster, out beyond the castle and over the lake, far beyond the clutches of Slytherin. With a cry of joy she glanced over her shoulder and saw the windows in the castle rock being left far behind. She was almost there, just the final wall and then into Hogsmeade and home. Home. Her heart sang the word with joy and she leant forwards, willing the broom to go even faster. The perimeter wall was looming larger and larger. One final hurdle and she was clear and free. She bit her lip and zoomed purposefully towards it. Almost there. Almost. With an almighty jolt, she was thrown forwards and somersaulted through the air, clinging desperately to her broom in an attempt to save herself. They spiralled downwards and crashed into the soft earth right by the wall. Hope winced and opened her eyes, trying to catch her breath again. The world spun, so she closed them again and groaned. Her left hand tentatively made its way to her collarbone and she hissed in a gasp of pain: something was broken there all right. She had no idea what had happened, she'd come off her broom before, plenty of times, but never like that. It was almost as if she'd crashed into something, except she hadn't. "Good morning, Miss Potter," a sardonic voice cut through her thoughts. "Perhaps you'd like to explain exactly what you're doing damaging the school flower beds, out of bounds and with an undoubtedly stolen broom at this early hour of the morning?" Hope's eyes snapped open, blazing with fury at her insufferable head of house. She sat up quickly, but the pain made the world begin to spin again and she thought she was going to be sick. She wasn't going to be sick in front of this man, she wasn't… "Come now!" Snape continued with his tirade. "There must be some reason for the little exhibition I saw just now from my rooms. Are you trying to show me your expertise on a broomstick in the expectation that you will be selected for the Quidditch team? Your father may have managed to talk his way into positions through ignoring instructions and doing whatever he pleased, but there will be no such rewards for you. Believe me, rules are to be kept while you're in Slytherin House. I expect none of this arrogant foolishness from you, do I make myself clear?" Hope said nothing. Her temper was threatening to explode, and as she struggled upwards to stop him from saying all these horrible things, the pains shot up through her shoulder making her whimper involuntarily. "You're hurt." It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact. Hope winced again. "I'm not," she said, defiantly with all the dignity she could muster, which was a little difficult when sitting in the middle of the school begonias. "Don't be a fool, girl," Snape answered impatiently. "You came down fairly heavily when you crashed into the wards around the grounds. Of course, you wouldn't have seen them, or known they were there. What is it? Collarbone?" Hope nodded miserably. "Come with me," he said, grasping the broom and waiting for her to stand. She struggled to her feet, holding her arm in an effort to stop it from hurting so much. They walked in silence back up to the castle, trailing over the long lawns and up the castle steps to her prison. She expected him to take her to his classroom to berate her further, but instead, they climbed the marble staircase and wound their way along a small corridor. Snape stopped and pushed a door open to reveal a long white room with a neat row of beds against the far wall. A matronly figure bustled towards them, clucking in horror at the sight of her. This was evidently the hospital wing. "Dear me!" the woman exclaimed a little breathlessly. "No need to tell me who you are. It looks like you'll be needing your own bed in here every bit as much as your father did." "You'll be all right now," Snape interjected almost kindly, leaving her in Madam Pomfrey's care. "Detention at eight tonight, and please remember that running away isn't any solution. I'd have expected a little more bravery from you than that." *** Hope lay flat on her back, staring blindly at the canopy above her bed. Her collarbone felt absolutely find now, apart from a little twinge every now and then, and Madam Pomfrey had said that even that would be gone by tomorrow. The morning's absence from lessons had given her the chance to think very hard. The only obvious way out of the school seemed to be through the main gates, and there was virtually no chance of doing that. However, Hope Potter was never one to give up as easily as that, and her brain was currently very busy mulling over other possibilities. "Where were you this morning?" Cora demanded, charging into the dormitory and slamming the door behind her. "Hospital Wing," Hope said briefly, barely glancing in Cora's direction. "The hospital wing?" Cora sounded shocked, and Hope felt the mattress sag as the girl perched on the end of her bed. "Are you all right? What happened?" Hope suddenly felt quite guilty, she honestly hadn't meant to worry anyone when she was absolutely fine. She sat up and chuckled. "Yeah, it was all my own fault really. I couldn't sleep so I nicked a broom and went flying. Snape caught me right in the middle of crashing head first into the flowerbeds. I mean, how embarrassing is that?" Cora giggled. "I'll bet he wasn't impressed." "Detention tonight and a long lecture on how Slytherins shouldn't break the rules." Hope rolled her eyes and mimicked her head of house's solemn intonation. "And believe me, Miss Potter, I expect none of this foolishness from you. Slytherins are meant to achieve great things." She pulled a face at Cora. "Well, it could have been worse," Cora said sympathetically. "You've not lost any points for Slytherin, and I bet if one of the other teachers had caught you, then they would have taken points away." "Like I care about that," Hope said scornfully, before she could stop herself. Cora's brow wrinkled in confusion. "How could you not care? Snape said that points will help us win the house cup. Surely you want our house to do well?" "Forget it," Hope said, and swung her legs down from the bed. "It's just a detention with Snape, that's all. I'll get it over with tonight and it can't be as bad as all that." "If you say so." Cora sounded dubious, and then her face lit up. "A parcel arrived for you this morning," she added, bending to rummage through her bag. She produced a small square box, tied with the brightest of red ribbons and passed it across to Hope. Hope looked curiously at it, feeling rather disappointed when she recognised the handwriting. She had been hoping that her uncles would have sent her something a little bigger than that, but all the same, it was a start. She pulled at the ribbon and as it unravelled between her fingers there was a rumbling noise and the box began to shiver and swell. It doubled in size and kept on growing. Cora gasped and scuttled backwards on the bed. Eventually the box reached the size of a picnic hamper and shuddered to a halt. With trembling hands, she lifted the lid, a devilish grin spreading over her face as she surveyed the treasures that glowed within. They had done her proud. "What's all this?" Cora breathed, staring in awe at the tricks and jokes that lined the box. "Special delivery from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," Hope chuckled, unravelling the roll of parchment that lay on the top of the box. "They're my uncles, well two of them anyway," she added an explanation rather incoherently. "You mean that shop in Diagon Alley?" Cora was sounding more and more amazed by the minute. Hope nodded her head and studied the letter carefully. Dear Hope, Your uncles are most delighted to see you've settled in already and are ready to take Gryffindor by storm. We've put together one or two little things that you should be able to have some fun with, especially in Potions lessons. We want to hear ALL about what you manage do to that greasy git. We've even put in some infernal insects, just in case you can break into Slytherin and infest their dormitories. Or failing that, maybe some reducing dust on their clothes might be worth a laugh? By the way, avoid using the canary creams on McGonagall, because she'll know just who to blame for that. She didn't enjoy it much last time either, but we can't imagine why. Send us a toilet seat and don't get caught! Love Uncle Fred and Uncle George P.S. One last thing: never mention this to Granny. Trust us on this one. Deny all knowledge of everything, even before she asks! A little pang caught at her heart. Breaking into Slytherin was hardly going to be a problem, was it? If only they'd known what she really wanted this box of tricks for, they'd have probably never sent them. She hadn't exactly lied to them, but she hadn't told them the truth either. She rolled the parchment back up and leaned forwards to examine her haul. Cora was wide-eyed in amazement as Hope inspected the sugar cubes that made your teeth fall out and then grow again, the mock-dragon's blood for Potions that would make anyone who tested the Potion breathe fire, the chocolate that turned you into a pumpkin when you ate it, the trick exploding snap cards that made their owner explode rather than the cards themselves and various other vials of mischief and mayhem. "What are you going to do with all this?" Cora asked. "You'll see," Hope chuckled airily. "What've we got this afternoon?" Cora bent to her bag once more and pulled out her timetable. "History of Magic followed by Herbology," she confirmed. "Right then!" Hope selected a tiny little jar and pocketed it securely within her robes. She closed the box up and was just about to push it under her bed, away from curious eyes when an idea occurred to her and she laughed. "I think our lovely Miss Parkinson might want to share this present, don't you?" Cora squealed with delight, but sobered quickly. "Won't we get into heaps of trouble for this?" she said. "Mum'll go spare if I get into any bother." "Only if they know it's us," Hope shrugged. "Besides, I'll never tell them you had anything to do with it anyway. I'll take all the blame if anyone guesses." "No!" Cora exclaimed, shaking her head firmly. "Come on, let's do it together and we'll share the blame if anything happens. She deserves it. What've you got in there?" A few minutes later and the two girls hurried out of the dormitory and giggled their way down to lunch, leaving behind a bed carefully made up with sinister sheets, designed to nibble the toes of poor unsuspecting sleepers in the dark of night. The afternoon dragged past very slowly. Hope, to her relief, had caught Robert in the corridor after lunch and put plan two into motion. Hope was thankful that he'd just presumed that they were up to their regular mischief and hadn't asked any questions when she'd asked for his help to research the castle itself. She knew from experience that there were lots of little nooks and passageways that came out in the most unexpected places that didn't seem feasibly possible. She'd discovered a tiny door yesterday beside a stone dwarf on the second floor, and just by going through it, she'd found herself in the Astronomy Tower. She'd heard enough at home to guess that there must be other secret passageways in the castle, and some of them wound their way out of the school entirely. She'd already tried to find them. The problem was that part of the castle had been rebuilt shortly after she was born and her knowledge of the central core of the place didn't always match up with what she saw now. It really was confusing. And so she'd enlisted Robert's help to trawl through the tomes in the library to find out what they could about Hogwarts itself. She was feeling fairly cheerful when she trooped down to Greenhouse Two with the rest of her group and she took her seat at a long table with Cora, a quiet brown-haired Slytherin boy and a couple of Ravenclaws. Professor Sprout began the lesson, speaking to them all about the magical uses for fungi. She swiftly focused on the care of toadstools, and the shady, damp conditions needed for optimum growth. They all had to collect some toadstools and in their trays had to produce the perfect environment for toadstool growth. They'd be working with the fungi for the next few weeks and it was a challenge to see whose toadstools fared the best. Hope set to work at once. She knew she had to look conscientiously busy to get away with what she was going to do. She reached across the table to grab a handful of compost from the bag beside the Slytherin boy and he jumped backwards as if he'd been electrocuted and sent his stool crashing to the floor. "Belford!" Professor Sprout bellowed from across the room. The boy muttered his apologies and picked up his stool, his face flaming with embarrassment. He turned immediately to his task, carefully following the instructions in his text book. Hope's own fingers scurried onwards, carefully planting long grasses and moss and dampening down the earth in preparation for her toadstool. Her eyes flickered round the classroom carefully. Professor Sprout was talking to another couple of girls on the far side of the classroom. Everyone else seemed absorbed in their work. Carefully she reached into her robes and withdrew the tiny jar, shaking a few tiny seeds from it into her palm. With her heart in her mouth, she planted them quickly in her pot and reached for the watering can. She stopped suddenly when she realised that Belford, the Slytherin boy, was watching her intently, his elbow sinking unnoticed into his tray of compost. "What's the matter?" she said, far more sharply than she'd intended. "Have I got dirt on my nose or something?" She rubbed at it furiously and succeeded in smearing the grime from her fingers up the side of her nose. The boy blushed again and stammered something incoherent, bending his head once more to his task. She heaved a sigh of relief, grabbed the watering can and tipped the contents quickly onto the buried seeds before her. At first nothing happened, and Hope was just on the verge of digging the bottle out of her pocket again to read the instructions once more, when a light green shoot slipped easily out of the earth and slithered along it, looking very much like a tiny snake. A second, then a third and a fourth shoot appeared, all growing at a colossal rate. Leaves began to open and the stems stretched out, cannoning towards the ceiling and then spreading out across the classroom, barricading the doorway, wrapping round furniture and screaming pupils at an alarming rate. Hope pulled Cora beneath the desk and they watched in amazement as the plant whipped around the table legs, imprisoning them in their little cocoon of safety. Parkinson was on her stool, screaming her head off until a large leaf clamped itself over her mouth and she was whisked upwards towards the ceiling. Professor Sprout could be heard bellowing something about keeping calm above the din that echoed through the greenhouse. As suddenly as it has started the plant shrivelled back, unbinding what it had tied in its clutches. The strong green stem retreated and Hope crawled back into the devastated room again only to find Professor Sprout staring at her tray and then turning to glare at her, with her arms folded. "Ivy's Revenge, Miss Potter?" Hope suddenly felt her throat go dry. "I suggest you give me any other seeds you may have obtained. Whilst the growing properties of this plant are only temporary, they're not really something I want to have around the school. Where did you get them from?" Hope hung her head. She wouldn't tell anyone that and the bottle's label would give away the source of the seeds without question. There was a very long pause. "Very well, detention tonight. You can repair some of this mess you've caused." "I can't," Hope blurted out. "Oh you most certainly can," Professor Sprout responded; her kindly tone had completely disappeared. "No, you don't understand!" Hope explained. "I've already got detention with Professor Snape tonight." "Very well, I shall speak to Professor Snape about you. You cannot behave like this here, Miss Potter, and it is about time you leant that." Hope said nothing, but inwardly smiled. She'd be out of here soon enough, one way or another. *** At the appointed time that night, Hope found herself knocking at the door of Snape's dungeon classroom. Her robes were neat and tidy and she'd made a colossal effort to get her hair to lie flat. She opened the door at his command and put on her most innocent air, trying to look desperately sorry for her misdeeds. Snape watched her take her seat through narrowed eyes and he laid his quill on the desk. There was a deadly pause that made Hope squirm. "Explain yourself, Miss Potter." The words were shot out like bullets. Hope stared back at him, the defiance building up inside. There was no explanation that he wanted to hear or that he would understand. She couldn't ever imagine this man knowing or understanding just how unhappy she was. Professor McGonagall couldn't help her, so what was the point in even trying to explain it all to Snape? "Well?" The room lapsed back into silence again. Hope kept staring back at her Head of House, saying nothing and simply willing for this all to be over. Snape sighed. "Miss Potter, believe it or not, my job as Head of Slytherin House is to help you settle in. The sorting hat clearly thinks there is something more about you than it saw in the rest of your family; you've already shown yourself to be a more than capable student. Believe me, we will not tolerate the ridiculous behaviour you've shown today. Professor Sprout has spared no details in telling me what you did in Herbology and the very least you can do is give a full explanation of why you did it." Hope still sat in stony silence. Nothing he could say would get her to admit to what was going on. She didn't want to settle in to his silly house and he couldn't make her. She watched Snape shake his head. "Are you homesick?" She glared daggers at him. "Talk to me, girl!" "I'm very sorry, Professor," Hope said in a carefully prepared speech. She scattered a small handful of Ivy's Revenge on his desk. "Here are all the seeds I've got left. Please can I do my punishment, and I promise I won't do the things I've done today ever again." Snape shook his head in exasperation. "Very well. Prepare the beetles eyes on the table over there and I'm sure the second or the third barrelful will give you time to think about your misdeeds." Hope nodded and moved across the classroom, aware of the Potions Masters curious gaze following her. She set to work at once. Snape was right, this did give her plenty of time to think, not about what she'd done, but about what she was going to do next. A.N. Thank you for reading – hope you enjoyed it! Thanks to Marian and Ami for looking over this chapter for me, and to Jo, who's a complete star and has offered to take on the task of beta reading for me on a regular basis! Hopefully she'll help to keep the plot straight for me as we go along…Obviously a couple of lines were nicked from PS – they're the ones you recognise. Reviews appreciated as much as ever – go on, click that little link right there and spoil me ;)
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