Pawns of War

Harry was gone. Ron and Hermione were gone. After the attack on Bill and Fleur’s wedding at the Weasley’s house, they went into hiding. Knowing Harry, however, they probably also went looking for something, someone to help stop Lord Vo – he who must not be named. I was terrified for them.

I could sense that Harry was not telling me, or anyone besides Ron and Hermione something. But I did not push it. Being a cousin to the famous Boy Who Lived does not constitute immediate access into his circle of confidants. I was okay with this. By this point, I trusted him not to screw up, and gave my distance from his situation so he would feel no need to directly lie to me.

However, standing at King’s Cross Station this year was quite a different experience. It was not as bustling as it always is. The typical bright sunny day this time of year has seemingly been turned to a hazy gloom. Parents were wearily telling their kids that they did not need to go to Hogwarts this year, that they could wait until next year. And most notably, hardly any muggle-borns, such as myself, could be seen with their parents – giving one final kiss and hug before crossing over the threshold of platform 9 ¾.

Hogwarts had written every family of an attending, or soon-to-be attending muggle-born student, saying that they feared of the safety for us and strongly advised to wait until next year to return to school. I did not let my parents view this letter. I knew if I did, they certainly would not allow me to return for my final year. A year I had been working so hard for. I would not let he who must not be named scare me off. I knew, like all other witches and wizards, of his hatred for muggles and all things associated with them, like muggle-borns. But I would not let that scare me off. My only fear concerning safety was for Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

And Draco Malfoy.

So many emotions went through me when his name crossed my mind. Fear, disgust, pity, sadness, uncertainty, betrayal are just a few to be named.

It became public knowledge last year, after Dumbledore’s murder, that Draco Malfoy had taken on the role both his parents carried as a Death Eater. He publicly supported a tyrannical leader who wanted to ”cleanse” the wizardry world of all muggle-borns. While I refused to believe that this decision was one-hundred percent his choice, I still felt hurt by it. Not only because of my bloodline, but also because of the relationship we had been building over the years.

To have the boy I’ve daydreamed about, befriended, flirted with, and snogged on more than one occasion, come out in support of Lord Volde- he who must not be named, was upsetting.

I tried my best to shake Draco Malfoy out of my thoughts. I would not let him or his family or his new clan get the best of me. I decided I would focus on Harry, and attempt to piece together what he, Ron, and Hermione might be up to besides hiding.

I got onto the train, and immediately found Neville. He looked angry. An emotion he did not typically sport. But nonetheless, after carefully putting my owl Cielo away, I sat down next to Longbottom.

Neville’s eyes went wide as soon as he saw me. His mouth gaped open and immediate concern filled his face. “What are you doing here, Clare?” he exclaimed.

“Same as you,” I replied, look between him and Dean, “going to Hogwarts to get an education.”

“I don’t know how much of an education we will be receiving now that we have a bloody Death Eater as our Head Master,” Dean replied with small snort.

“New Head Master?” I asked. “Who? Who is it?”

“Professor Snape,” said Neville. “He killed Dumbledore and took over his position.”

He then turned directly to me, “Clare, its not safe for you at Hogwarts this year, did you not get the letter they sent out? It is going to be a hunting ground for muggle-borns this year, if a Death Eater finds you… I – I don’t know what they would do to you.”

The amount of genuine concern from Neville Longbottom almost made me wish I had told my parents and waited until next year to finish my schooling. Almost.

“There is no need to worry about me, Neville,” I said. “I know how to take care of myself. Besides, teachers and students can’t simply go around murdering muggle-borns, there are rules against that.”

“Who knows,” Dean spoke, “all is fair in war.”