Bedknobs and Broomsticks [HP fanfic; BNB Book 1]

Aftershock

Emilie entered the Great Hall to find it buzzing with conversation. Unlike the usual atmosphere of amity that followed Slug Club events, the dull roar in the hall was subdued and uneasy. The Slytherin table alone seeming immune to the tension. She caught sight of Geoff sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, his head in his hands, staring down at a sheet of newsprint.

He glanced up as she approached, and she saw that his eyes were red, the bags beneath them suggesting he hadn't slept.

"Geoff, what's happening?" she asked, glancing around at the other students. She quickly turned her attention back to him as several Ravenclaws from the neighboring table shot her angry looks.

"Didn't bother to read the Evening Prophet last night?" he asked. He slid the newspaper toward her, wiping his nose on the back of a sleeve.

"A raid at the Ministry?" she asked, scanning the headline. "I heard Mulciber talking about it this morning, said his dad was mentioned specifically in the article...." She glanced back up at him, and saw him picking absently at a piece of sausage, his fork shaking in his hand. "You're worried about your parents, aren't you?" she asked. "Have you heard from them?"

She saw him visibly stiffen. He swallowed hard and slowly shook his head. "My parents are dead."

"Geoff -- I'm so sorry, I--"

"You what? Didn't know what you were getting into when you signed on with the Death Eaters? My parents are dead, Emilie. And it's because of people like Mulciber, and Rosier, and Avery. It's because of people like you."

Emilie was taken aback. "Because of people like me? Geoff -- I was here, at school, with you. I had nothing to do with--"

"You were friends with Rosier, weren't you? His dad was seen leaving the Ministry just after the raid, right along with Mulciber's. You can't hang around with people like Rosier and not be like them. Snape started hanging around with them a couple of years ago, and look at him. He's just like them now. You're just like them. And I heard Sirius saying--"

"Fuck Sirius," she said loudly, cutting him off. A couple of Gryffindors on the other side of Geoff looked up, startled. "He doesn't know what he's talking about. He's a git. Yeah, I was friends with Rosier, but you know what? Fuck him, too. Fuck all of them. They are not responsible for the raid. Their parents are. Yeah, they're gits for bragging about it, but they aren't responsible, and neither am I."

She paused, but Geoff didn't seem interested in responding. Hesitantly, she covered his hand with her own. He stared at it, still frowning, but didn't draw back.

"Listen, Geoff, I'm sorry about your parents. I really am. Let me know if there's anything I can do." She gave his hand a squeeze, then released it, striding across the Great Hall away from the accusing looks of the students who had lost relatives in the raid.

Geoff sat for a long moment, staring at the front page of the Prophet. It wasn't fair. How many students had lost a family member in the raid? How many had lost a sibling? A parent? How many had been orphaned? How could the Ministry have just sat by and let this happen? There had to have been warning signs -- surely someone in the Ministry had seen them. Surely someone in the Ministry could have done something.

The most unjust part of the whole thing, though, was that the people like Rosier and Mulciber and Avery had walked out of it with their heads held high. Their parents hadn't been casualties; their parents had been murderers. And they were going to follow in their fathers' footsteps. Everyone suspected the same thing. Everyone knew which Slytherins dabbled in the Dark Arts. Everyone knew who had a skull and snake tattooed on their forearm.

But he had to know for sure. There had to be a way to find out. He had to know which Slytherins were aligned with Voldemort, and then he would do whatever he had to in order to avenge his parents. There had to be a way to get into the Slytherin common room undetected. An Invisibility Cloak, maybe -- but he had no way of getting one without asking James, and asking James would undoubtedly mean involving Sirius, which he had no intention of doing. A Disillusionment Charm would do no good in such close quarters.

And then it hit him. A Polyjuice Potion. If he started quickly, he could have everything ready before Christmas.

Abruptly, he stood and hurried out of the Great Hall and toward the library, already working out the finer points of his plan in his mind. It would work, he told himself. It had to.