I'm Always Here for You
Dear Sally-Anne,
Last year, when you deflected dates for Harry, I understood. I was disappointed in you, because I know you're better than that, but I understood. I want you to remember that.
Because this, what you've done now, I cannot understand. Nothing about what you've described Umbridge doing is necessary. I'll admit, Hogwarts hasn't always been the safest place, but that has nothing to do with Professor Dumbledore. He's the one that keeps it safe. When that troll got in, he had us back in our rooms within minutes. The basilisk was hardly his fault. Do you honestly expect Umbridge to care about the students half as much as Dumbledore did?
I can understand some Ministry representative doing all of this. I can understand, because I still remember a young woman who was terrified to go to Hogsmeade because Ministry sanctioned Dementors were guarding the gates. Nothing about them doing this to Hogwarts surprises me.
But you? I've tried to think of so many ways to say this, but all I can say is that I'm disappointed in you. Treating the students like they're going to do something wrong is something I'm sure you've told me not to do before. You've always handled my cousins better than me, because I always expect them to do something wrong. You're the one that showed me not to react unless they actually did something. I want you to remember that too.
I don't know what else to say, apart from I expect better of you, Sally-Anne.
Sincerely,
Alex
Sally-Anne read the letter again before her meeting with Umbridge. She didn't want to appear distraught about anything, lest she give the impression she couldn't handle her new duties. She had no illusions about how well liked she was anymore. Not one person in the entire school liked her. Even the staff resented her. Umbridge gave her the feeling this was all just a political deal, to be cut at Umbridge's convenience. Still, it was her only chance for improvement. Why couldn't anyone see that?
Everyone hated her. Why couldn't they understand she was trying to help them? They acted like they were being targeted for expressing themselves. Umbridge didn't care what they did on their time, so long as it wasn't spreading lies and deceit. Besides, they were lucky to be afforded any freedom at all. They were teenagers in a boarding school. The fact that they weren't monitored more closely in the past was a recipe for disaster.
She'd been picked on and bullied more times than she cared to remember. It was a miracle students hadn't killed one another before. In the past few months, she'd received numerous death threats and been attacked more times than she could count. If there was some positive outcome of everything, it was that her reflexes were being improved by the constant attacks. She had to be on guard all the time. Class was no different. If someone could get away with something and make it look like an accident, they would.
The eyes were a blessing. It made it that much harder for anyone to get away with something. If they hadn't been there, Sally-Anne likely would've had to have transferred out over fears for her life.
"Tea?"
Umbridge offered her a cup of tea. As always, Sally-Anne turned it down, but this time, she was prepared.
"No thank you," Sally-Anne pulled a thermos out of her pack. "I brought my own."
She poured herself a cup of tea in the provided cup.
"You're quite the clever young witch, aren't you?"
Sally-Anne hoped the dismay she felt didn't show on her face as she shook her head.
"No, that was always Hermione and Ron. Or Rose, I suppose. They were the clever ones. Always with their plans, or figuring out that one solution none of us would."
Sally-Anne thought back to their fight against the Basilisk. How they had all worked together to win. Now it was just her, alone.
"They're not your friends anymore, Ms. Perks. They turned their backs on you. They'll come round in time, I assure you. It takes imagination to see what we're doing."
Sally-Anne thought back to her letter from Alex. She didn't have the imagination either, apparently. Of all people, Sally-Anne had expected Alex to understand.
"Something wrong, dear?"
Her first instinct was to hide it, but then she thought maybe Umbridge would have a solution.
"My friend Alex… Alexandra Nertlyn, she was my prefect when I started out here… I wrote her about the changes we were making. She didn't understand either."
"Never fret, dear. Years from now, all of your so-called friends will look back on this time and realize how wrong they all were."
Sally-Anne took a sip of her tea.
"I hope so."
After her meeting with Umbridge, she thought more about Alex's letter. She of all people should've understood. Alex had always wanted to help them. Why wasn't she helping Sally-Anne? Of all people, she should've been happy Sally-Anne was working so hard for everyone.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Every glaring face made it worse. No one understood. Why couldn't anyone understand?
By the time she got back to her room, she was fuming. She picked up a quill and parchment and wrote Alex a reply.
Dear Alex,
I would've thought you of all people would be able to understand what we're doing. We're just trying to make it better. The students have already proven time and again that they can't be trusted with their own safety. Dumbledore admitted that he was moving against the Ministry. Why wouldn't he? He believes that he knows better than they do. But he doesn't!
I thought you would, but then I remembered all the times you let Rose get away with breaking the rules. The rules aren't guidelines, they're in place for everyone's safety. At least Umbridge understands that. Maybe if you'd been a better influence on all of us, Hermione wouldn't have turned to Rose for guidance.
I know it seems okay to you, since Dumbledore said it was fine, but he's a criminal. He confessed. It didn't make sense, but nothing Dumbledore's ever done has made sense. But you see, that's the point. I'm not so sure he was in his right mind.
Don't listen to him. Listen to me, the Ministry, even your own family. Your aunt and uncle were right not to let you around your cousins after you locked them in a room. You've got to do a better job considering the consequences your actions have on other people.
Sincerely,
Sally-Anne
She reviewed it and knew she was being too harsh, but perhaps her harsh words would snap Alex out of whatever Dumbledore-induced stupor she was in and make her see sense. Sally-Anne was worried about the effect Dumbledore had had on the rest of students. If he'd influenced Alex so heavily, who was to say he hadn't hypnotized the rest of the school. But with Alex on her side, she knew she'd be fine.
Final exams approached, but the situation showed no sign of improvement from anyone. Sally-Anne wasn't sure she was comfortable taking astronomy, but it was time for their O.W.L.s, and she wanted to do the best she could. The feeling that her classmates were going to try to push her off the edge was alleviated somewhat by her ring. Her ring about which she'd never told Umbridge. She didn't know why she never told her about their equipment. Part of her didn't want to lose the dress, the pendant, the ring, or the ribbon. If she told Umbridge about her friends' things, she'd have to tell Umbridge about everything she had. So she stayed quiet about it. As long as her friends didn't cause a ruckus, she didn't see a problem.
She was thankful for being out that night. It gave her a clear view of what happened.
"What's that?" someone asked, looking over the edge.
Sally-Anne didn't move closer; she wasn't about to fall for something so simple. She looked inside the student's head as more joined him at the side. Not finding anything problematic, she edged closer.
She almost couldn't believe what she saw.
A group of wizards ran towards Hagrid's Hut. A familiar figure was at the head of the pack.
"Is that Umbridge?"
"Who else wears that much pink?"
Sally-Anne took her telescope and tried to get a better view, but she couldn't see past the mass of students. She spotted Harry with the same idea, but he chose to use his Omnioculars.
"Rubeus Hagrid!" Umbridge's voice carried far enough that they could all hear her clearly. "You've been deemed unfit as a member of staff! Please come out quietly and submit to Ministry justice!"
Sally-Anne remained neutral on the outside, but internally, she was confused. How had Hagrid been deemed unfit? He did bring them into the Forbidden Forest on occasion, but he supervised them at all times. Why him?
She saw her former friends exchanging looks and knew what they meant.
"That's Ministry business," she whispered. "Don't interfere."
Hermione shot her a glare then scoffed at her.
"If you try to go down, I will stop you," Sally-Anne said.
"You're welcome to try," Hermione said.
"What happens when you get down there? Do you honestly think you can beat trained Aurors? Or is this going to be the World Cup all over again?"
"Look! It's McGonagall!"
Both of them looked over the edge and saw McGonagall emerging from the castle. She ran towards the chaos, calling for Umbridge to stop. When she refused, McGonagall put herself between them and the door to the hut. Hagrid stepped out slowly, joining McGonagall.
They stood together against the Aurors when they attacked. Sally-Anne had seen McGonagall in a fight before and knew if she were really trying, she could've taken them all down. But she stood by and took the hits. The Aurors fired on her and Hagrid, but neither fought back.
"Happy now?" Hermione asked her. "Some world you've made."
"We don't know what happened," Sally-Anne said calmly. "All we can see are the results. It's not our place to pass judgment on the Ministry."
Sally-Anne walked to the Hospital Wing the next morning. McGonagall was in a bed on her own. It was probably for the best, at least as far as Sally-Anne was concerned.
"Professor?"
She was bandaged up, but most of the injuries she'd sustained didn't look awful. Sally-Anne hadn't recognized many of the spells they'd used, apart from stunners.
"Ms. Perks. Come to deliver a message from the Headmistress?"
Sally-Anne could've been imagining it, but McGonagall's tone sounded harsher than usual.
"No, I came to see how you were doing."
"Fine."
McGonagall wouldn't meet her gaze.
"What happened? Why'd you do that?"
"Loyalty, Ms. Perks, something I don't expect you to understand."
"That's not very professional, especially for the deputy headmistress."
"Perhaps not, but true, nevertheless."
Sally-Anne found it odd how chilling McGonagall's attitude was. Not because it was unexpected, but because she'd received the same treatment from most of the school already, and she'd grown so numb to it. But something about Professor McGonagall saying it sounded so much worse.
"I could always understand sacking Sybill. She means well, but she's a far cry from being called 'good' at her job. I suspect Professor Dumbledore kept her around out of sympathy more than respect for her talents. But Professor Hagrid is a certified handler of magical creatures. We did that to ensure there would be no issues with him teaching."
"With all due respect, Professor, he's taken us into the Forbidden Forest before. That can't be safe for students."
"It's allowed under direct supervision, and necessary to have the required understanding of how to handle magical creatures. Not everything can be learned through books and theory."
"Those creatures are dangerous."
"But your precious Ministry has guidelines for handling them and for overseeing the teaching of that handling."
McGonagall slowly turned her head to face Sally-Anne.
"I'm not going to try to talk you out of this, Ms. Perks. Better people than I have tried and failed. But I'll just ask you one question: Can you think of a time when Professor Hagrid has demonstrated a threat to the students? One that was specifically his fault?"
Sally-Anne frowned, thinking back on her time in Care for Magical Creatures. He had always run the class responsibly. Apart from letting Dumbledore put a three-headed dog in the school, she couldn't think of anything. He'd warned Malfoy not to approach Buckbeak the way he had, so that wasn't really Hagrid's fault.
"There was one time," Sally-Anne said, "in first-year. I'd mentioned something about his dog and music… I can't remember what exactly I'd said, but it was… something I'd read. He grabbed me, angry that I knew."
Sally-Anne shifted uncomfortably at the memory. The giant man had towered over her, his large hands on her arms.
She frowned as the memory played in her head. She'd forgotten the next part.
"Then Rose grabbed him. Glared at him, told him to let me go."
"And yet, we're the ones in the wrong," McGonagall said, returning her gaze to the ceiling.
Sally-Anne snapped out of her memories and glared at McGonagall.
"How do you mean?"
"Peta-Lorrum was mad. Completely out of her mind, but she would never leave you all behind. She would've done anything she thought necessary in order to keep you all out of harm. I could see it in her eyes. When anyone lashed out at Ms. Granger, Peta-Lorrum was there to put them in their place. It didn't matter who it was."
"If by 'put them in their place' you mean 'threaten their lives'."
"I don't agree with her methods, but with her results. So I'll ask you: Knowing how protective of you all she was, is it likely that she'd leave you all behind?"
Sally-Anne thought of Rose for the first time in months. Not that she was mad, but past that. The days they spent laying in the grass or studying together. The days she'd pushed Sally-Anne hard, so Sally-Anne wouldn't be so defenceless.
"I don't know." She frowned, but shook her head. "Her 'methods' have got no place in Hogwarts."
"Of course they haven't. If she turns out to be alive somewhere, I'll be the first to request that she remain off the grounds. But that's not the point, now is it?"
Sally-Anne sat next to Professor McGonagall for a while, deep in thought. If McGonagall minded, she didn't say anything. Sally-Anne didn't know who was right anymore. Her version of events, the ones with which Umbridge agreed, made so much sense to her. But what if they were wrong? What if Voldemort had somehow come back to life? But that wasn't supposed to be possible. Unless…
"Thank you, Professor," Sally-Anne said at last. "I've… I've got to go talk to someone."
"I hope I've taught you something today, Ms. Perks."
Sally-Anne smiled.
"I do believe you have, Professor McGonagall. Thank you."
Sally-Anne walked to Myrtle's bathroom alone. Part of her couldn't believe she was taking anything Hermione had said seriously. She'd completely lost her mind, and Sally-Anne knew it. She just hadn't realized to what extent. But there was still a chance…
"Myrtle? Are you in here?"
The eyes in the bathroom closed, leaving them alone.
"I'm here."
I can't believe I'm about to ask this.
"I've got a question, and I'd like you to answer honestly."
Assuming Hermione hasn't already gotten to you and convinced you of her mad stories.
"Of course."
Sally-Anne concentrated on her question. It still sounded ridiculous in her head, as she knew it would sound out loud, but it had to be asked.
"Promise?"
Myrtle floated to the ground to stand beside her.
"I promise, Sally-Anne."
Just ask it.
"The first day we met, did the Basilisk kill me?"
Myrtle drew a sharp breath and began to fidget.
"Erm… er… n-no, of course not. It… it petrified you. If… if it'd k-killed you, then… then…"
"Is that what really happened, or is that what Rose told you to tell me if I ever asked? Did she tell you to keep it a secret that she could bring people back from the dead?"
Myrtle floated back towards one of the stalls. She shook her head slowly, stammering words that Sally-Anne couldn't make out.
"Myrtle, please. It's important. Hermione already told me, I just… I need to know what happened."
As the seconds passed, Myrtle continued to look more and more like a frightened animal, desperate to escape a predator. Ghostly tears ran down her face, and she struggled to find words.
"I don't know. It looked at you, and then… and then you just didn't get up. I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't move. Then Rose appeared and she… she fought off the Basilisk. With her bare hands! Then she made me promise never to tell anyone what she could do and then… and then she whispered something… and you just woke up."
When Sally-Anne had entered the bathroom, she had been worried that she'd have to deal with the possibility that Hermione had gotten there first. That she'd convinced Myrtle to lie for her. But looking at Myrtle, at her tears, at her fear, there was no way she was lying. What Sally-Anne had just heard was the truth. And if that was the truth… if Hermione had been telling the truth about her, what else had she known?
More importantly: it being possible for Rose to bring back the dead truly made her unique. She was from another world, and she possessed the power to restore the dead. Sally-Anne didn't know then if Rose had brought Voldemort back to life or not, but it was possible, which meant Umbridge had been wrong.
She glanced at the mirror in front of her. In that mirror, she saw herself betraying her friends. With every betrayal she'd committed, every lie she'd believed, the mirror cracked a little more.
If Umbridge had been wrong about people coming back from the dead, it meant she could've been wrong about anything.
CRACK!
And Rose… Rose wouldn't have abandoned her friends, no matter how mad she was. She wouldn't go far if she thought they were going to be in danger, which was just their thing. They were always in danger somehow.
CRACK!
If Rose hadn't killed herself, and if people could come back from the dead, then there was no way to know what had happened.
CRACK!
The world she thought she knew, the world she'd made herself believe, shattered into a thousand pieces and came crashing down around her. She'd been wrong about everything. Wrong about Rose, about Voldemort, about Harry and Hermione.
"She… she made me promise! I'm sorry! I wanted to tell you, but… I'm such a horrible person!"
Sally-Anne fought through the haze of new information and focused on Myrtle, tearing herself away from her own reflection.
"Myrtle, it's alright. I understand." Sally-Anne heard her own words, and let them sink in deeper. "I understand. I'm not angry. You did what you thought was the right thing, but now… now you've made it better. You're still my friend."
Rose hadn't killed herself. Raising the dead was possible. And Umbridge… Umbridge was a liar. And Sally-Anne had fallen for it.
Sally-Anne turned her thoughts to Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Ginny. She thought of Loretta and the other girls. Most of all, she thought of Alex.
"You're probably the only friend I've got left." She smiled at Myrtle, hoping it looked as sweet as she meant it to. "Thank you for telling me now. I only wish it hadn't caused you so much pain to hold onto this for so long."
Myrtle wiped tears from her eyes.
"You're not upset?"
Sally-Anne shook her head, and she meant it.
"Of course not. The only person with whom I'm upset right now is myself for being so blind."
She meant that too.
"I can't believe I let Umbridge fill my head with lies like that. Everything made so much sense."
Sally-Anne thought back through everything Hermione had said, giving it all another thought. It made a lot more sense to her now than it did back then.
"There was something else… why didn't Umbridge let me go after I'd exposed my friends' club?"
"I… I…"
"I'm sorry, I'm just thinking out loud. I still don't know why she's been targeting me with all this, but I've got to find a way to put a stop to it."
Sally-Anne sat in silence that night at dinner. She didn't blame her housemates for treating her like the enemy. After all, she was the enemy. She swore to herself that she'd find some way to make it up to them. As a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, she had the unique ability to get word to the outside world. All she could do was notify her parents, maybe some members of the Ministry, but it wouldn't be enough. What she needed was political power within the Ministry, and despite her mum's seemingly endless list of contacts, she doubted there were any on that list with such power. But there was someone with that power. She just didn't know if she could convince him to use it.
"Good evening, Malfoy," she said that night.
"Perks."
They didn't say much more than that for most of the night. Sally-Anne went through everything she knew about Malfoy, about what he was like. She hated the thought of manipulating even one more person, but she needed his help. He was her only chance of getting the power to take down Umbridge.
"Malfoy, we're not friends, but we haven��t been at each other's throats in a long time, right?"
Malfoy stopped walking and stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. To be fair to him, he wasn't far off from the truth.
"What?"
"I've got a question, and if there's a part of you that doesn't completely loathe my mere presence, I'd appreciate you giving me a straight answer."
He continued his stare of incredulity, but Sally-Anne didn't flinch. She remained steadfast in her attempt to get the truth out of him.
"What are you on about, Perks?"
"Can you think of a time — any time at all — that Umbridge has lied to someone?"
He looked at her as if he couldn't believe she existed.
"What?"
Sally-Anne stood her ground.
"Do you want me to repeat the question?"
"What does it matter?"
"Because I have. And I'm quite sure that you have too. So if you've ever heard her lie to someone, ask yourself: what's stopping her from lying to you?"
Malfoy scoffed. "She wouldn't dare go against my family!"
"I'm not suggesting she would. But she would manipulate them to her own ends. Her agenda is entirely her own. It just happens to line up with ours. What happens when it doesn't? What happens when she decides she doesn't need our cooperation anymore?"
"She never needed your cooperation, Mudblood! I should've been in charge of the squad, not you!"
Sally-Anne was surprised to find how much Malfoy calling her "Mudblood" again stung. Despite her pain, she straightened up and confronted him.
"Exactly my point. She doesn't believe that blood status matters as much as you do. What happens when she decides that it doesn't matter at all? Is the Malfoy family really going to bow and scrape to anyone? She holds the cards, Malfoy, and with that decree she told us about today, it's only going to get worse. So the only question is, do you want to change that?"
Hermione, Ron, and Harry sat around in the common room the following night, keeping to themselves. They didn't talk to or even look at the others. Anyone watching would assume they were ignoring the others, which is exactly what they all wanted the eyes to think.
Hermione and Ron had spent shifts in the library, once again careful not to act any differently around each other. That meant no avoiding contact, but minimal interaction. If it looked like they were up to something, even in the slightest, Umbridge would come down on them.
The fruits of their labor had been learning that Umbridge and Fudge couldn't be stopped. An internal investigation had to be brought up against Umbridge, which would have to be approved by Fudge, and there was no formal way to force such an investigation. It was entirely up to Fudge, and without public pressure, there was no way he was going to approve such a thing.
Hermione had tried sending a letter to her parents, simply saying she was still okay. She was far from okay, but she didn't want them to worry. Besides which, she wasn't allowed a dissenting opinion. She'd encountered Sally-Anne, who had denied her request. Harry had explained why: Sally-Anne's pendant allowed her to read their minds, so she wasn't going to let Hermione send a letter, since it doesn't work on Hermione.
They were all the most worried about Ginny. She was always accompanied by one of them in hopes that she wouldn't blow up one of the eyes. Since she wasn't able to contain herself while using the telepathic network, she instead stayed up in her room while the others were in the common room. To anyone watching, it looked like she was just throwing nightly temper tantrums.
It hadn't taken long for them all to realize the problem with staying in the common room after dark. If they made a habit of obviously not sleeping, it wouldn't take long for Umbridge to notice. They didn't know why Sally-Anne hadn't told her yet, but whatever the reason, they intended to keep it that way. The moment they lost their equipment, they'd lose the war entirely.
Hermione was a little happy that they'd all agreed it was a war. They were in a prison camp, after all. It was hard to ignore the signs any longer. Even then, killing Umbridge wouldn't help, as they'd explained over and over again.
The eye in the common room closed, and they all glared with practiced coordination at the entrance.
"Splendid," Sally-Anne said. "You're… mostly all here. That saves me the time of having to convince you all to come down."
"What do you want, Perks?" Hermione asked.
"I want to say I'm sorry, but you won't all hear me out," Sally-Anne replied. "So instead of telling you I'm sorry, I'll start by showing you."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Sally-Anne as her former friend walked calmly over to the fire. When she reached it, she ripped the "I" from her robes — the insignia of the Inquisitorial Squad — and threw it in the fire.
"I believe you," Sally-Anne said. "Rose was mad, but she cared about us. She'd never leave us alone if she thought there was a slight chance that we'd end up in danger without her."
Hermione waited, but that was apparently all Sally-Anne had to say. When Hermione realized that, she started laughing.
"That's it? You honestly think we're going to forgive you just like that? Or do you really think we're so gullible that we'd fall for something so obvious?"
Sally-Anne shook her head, keeping her hands folded in front of her.
"No, I don't expect you to forgive me. Not ever." She drew a letter from her pack and walked over to Hermione, the only one currently looking at her. "I sent a copy of this to my parents just now, with instructions to send it to your parents, Hermione, to tell them what Hogwarts has done to you. Copies will be sent to Sirius and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Then similar copies, with far less personal information, will be sent to Madame Bones at the DMLE, and about half the staff at the Daily Prophet, Ministry of Magic, and every Hogwarts family. I gave my parents specific instructions regarding what information to withhold. Your names will be left out of it, apart from anything that goes to your families. I sent the owl this afternoon, which means it will have reached them by dinnertime. Knowing Mum, she'll have sent out the letters by now."
Hermione scoffed at the letter without reading at it.
"And you really think that's going to work?"
"It's the best I can do," Sally-Anne said. "The Daily Prophet credited me in part for all this, so anyone that reads and believes the prophet will know it's valid. Anyone else will likely be happy to believe it, because if they're not reading it, they probably don't like Minister Fudge."
Hermione narrowed her eyes, then snatched the letter out of Sally-Anne's hand. Sure enough, it gave a detailed account of the past several months, including personal details Hermione hadn't known about Sally-Anne. At the end, it included a second letter, which Sally-Anne had instructed her parents to send to a list of people, which included a family from every student at Hogwarts.
"I've got access to administrative records from Hogwarts," Sally-Anne said. "Getting that list was easy."
"And how do we know you actually sent this? If I'm holding the letter, how did you send it?"
"I asked Dripty to make a copy for me. He's rather good at it. That's what you're reading now. Then he went with me to deliver the original. You can ask him if you'd like."
"None of this matters," Harry said, turning towards her. "We leave in a few days, and…"
He stopped when Sally-Anne started shaking her head.
"No, you don't. She's going to announce it tomorrow at breakfast." Sally-Anne closed her eyes. "'Due to the inadequate nature of the education provided at Hogwarts under its previous leadership, all students are required to undertake additional summer courses.'"
While Sally-Anne spoke, Ron sent a message to Ginny to go to the common room. If it surprised Sally-Anne to see Ginny there after she'd finished talking, she didn't show it.
"Hello, Ginny."
Ginny growled at her.
"I deserved that."
"You deserve a lot more than that, jato!"
"They're going to make us all stay over the summer?" Harry asked.
"Yes, which is why it's vital that word got out now. I'm not here to make some grand attack on Umbridge. I wanted all of you to be the first to know what's going to happen tomorrow. I don't know if it will be enough to stop her, but if it's not… I've got one last contingency that's got such a small chance of success I'm not going to bother mentioning it. If it's not enough to stop her, then I'm going to work from within to take her down."
"Isn't the missing insignia from your robes going to tip her off?" Hermione asked.
"Do you know how many times I'm attacked every day? Crabbe and Goyle have lost their insignias three times each already. Parkinson can hardly keep track of her own belongings, much less—"
As if on cue, the portal opened. They all turned their heads to look.
The remaining members of the Inquisitorial Squad looked back at them.
"Well," Parkinson said, "lucky us."