Parchment (d.m)

Chapter 10

Warning: this story contains strong language, violence, death, and other mature themes. May be unsuitable for readers under the age of 18. Reader discretion is advised.

A copy of the Daily Prophet was slapped onto Penelope's untouched plate as she and Ginny sat down for breakfast. 

"Look at this!" Seamus shouted, using his index to point at the title. 

Penelope tugged her bag up beside her, barely catching sight of what the font spelled out since Ginny snatched the Prophet up. "Seamus, do you need to be hexed to get what I say through your thick skull?" Ginny warned, hiding the Prophet behind her.

Hermione leaned in and did a horrible job at hiding her grave thoughts displaying across her face. "No, Ginny...it's serious." Ginny's scowl dissolved as she hesitantly brought the Prophet back to the table before being plucked by Penelope.

"Death Eater spotting at Hogsmeade," Penelope read from the front page, "The sightings of three known Death Eaters have been confirmed in the town outside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding. Students attending the school were visiting Hogsmeade under the supervision of Aurors, making many speculate if this was not a coincidence. While the concern and outrage from the Wizarding Community are being expressed, the Minister has confirmed everything is under control." 

Penelope laid the Prophet down and acknowledged the volume of the Great Hall. 

Everyone was talking about it.

"What's the point of the Aurors if they are just going to let those bloody Death Eaters in?" Neville's voice trembled like the hand gripping the roots of his hair.

"Exactly!" Seamus shouted, slapping the Prophet before Penelope.  "Under control? Are they fucking serious? One of us could have been attacked! And where—"

"Keep your voice down!" Hermione demanded.

"And why should I? Everyone already knows!"

Penelope gripped the parchment and looked at Hermione. "When did this arrive?"

"A minute or two before you and Ginny came."

Penelope fixed her gaze to the front of the Great Hall, taking note of the few professors seated and the vacant chairs for the Heads of the Houses and the Headmistress; Dixon, Slughorn, Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall. She knew they must have been speaking on the exact topic the whole Great Hall was. 

Dean's hand caressed Penelope's free one, relieving the slight fear that was simmering within her. A fear she believed she would never feel again—and although not nearly as heavy as a year prior—still, somehow, similar and present. Knowing she was even within the same town as them brought on memories she was promised she would no longer live through. 

Blood from the neck of a student spilled onto the stone, thickening before Penelope's eyes. A student she remembered passing on her way to Potions her sixth year—a student whose eyes were now pasted open, laying lifelessly in the center of one of Hogwart's corridors. The girl must have been a sixth year now, supposed to be walking back from Great Hall after having dinner with her friends instead of fighting in a war and, now, lying in her own blood. 

The memory of Penelope passing her in the corridor was cloudy as she tried to remember the girl's house from the color of the scarf she wore—Hufflepuff, Penelope finally remembered. She then began to remember the few times when they would briefly smile in politeness when they caught the eyes of each other as they passed while talking to their own friends. It was not something unusual for students on a typical day of walking to class. Even some of the most stuck-up Slytherins would partake in a polite smile. But that was when life was happier and when her biggest worry was if a wink from a Ravenclaw in her Herbology class meant anything or if she studied hard enough for an upcoming Potions quiz.