An attack, retaliation, and Bubotuber pus.
~
Phase one relied on mass involvement of students, so, for the next few days all was quiet – at least on the outside. Through letters, notes, toilet cubicle graffiti, hidden messages, word of mouth and any other means possible, the layout of the plan was spreading throughout the castle. In the core of the operation were the students that had gathered to bring it all together and finalise the strategy, and as such one of the more passionate members of each house had taken control over their quarter of the students.
For Gryffindor, Chris had, predictably, accepted leadership. A quiet, intent frenzy had taken over his usual light-hearted manner, and students scattered out of his way as he marched stormily through the corridors. Carrie had taken Hufflepuff and PJ’s best friend Sophie was masterminding Ravenclaw, while a pale, blonde-haired boy was running the Slytherin side. Dan was secretly very glad his friends hadn’t expected him to lead Slytherin, as public speaking and giving people orders were not his strong points. He was quite happy to follow the orders that his far more capable (and charismatic) friends gave him, and offer input whenever it was required. Together with Phil, he was on the front lines of the attack. Really, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
The fundamental flaw in Umbridge’s decree was not in the hidden, small-print afterthought, but in the first part: boys and girls were not allowed to be in close proximity to one another. Boys and boys, however…
It took professor Umbridge nearly a whole day to notice the change. She was used to seeing all-girl and all-boy groups of friends; that was natural and even more common after her newest decree. Likewise, she was used to seeing same gender pairs walking around together – after all, 85% of young people have same gender best friends - but what she wasn’t so used to however was seeing all the students seemingly in the whole of the castle hanging around in same-gender groups exclusively of two.
Two second year girls sat close together on the bottom stair of the marble staircase, heads close together, giggling over something they were reading in a magazine. On the other end of the stair lounged two sixth year boys, leaning against each other and staring up at the ceiling while they discussed their latest Astrology exam. Two Slytherin girls were doing each other’s hair in the entrance hall while another pair stood almost cheek to cheek comparing their new nose studs. A Ravenclaw boy was helping another with his Quidditch robes and two Hufflepuff girls were walking towards them, arm in arm, animatedly discussing next weekend’s match.
Umbridge frowned. Perhaps it was her imagination, it was just a coincidence that there were so many duos in one place. She turned to her left. On the floor, leaning up against a statue of Maud the Malicious, sat a first year girl with brown hair braided to one side. Laying across her lap, reading from a History of Magic book, lay a blonde girl that Umbridge recognised from the class she’d just taught. The Ravenclaw was very shy and barely spoke in lessons, and because of this she was a favourite of Umbridge’s. She was one of the good ones, mostly because she was so terrified of all the teachers and pretty much everything else.
“Paulina,” Umbridge asked sweetly as she approached. “Can I ask you something?”
Paulina dropped her book in surprise, her blue eyes wide with terror as she looked up. “Yes, of course.” She squeaked.
“Maybe I’m being silly,” Umbridge said with a high-pitched, girlie giggle. “Do you think my new decree is good? Why, people seem to only be talking to one other person these days!” She laughed again for good measure.
Paulina was trembling slightly, but her face was earnest. “Oh, no,” she shook her head. “I think it’s really good. I’ve spent more time with Annie than I ever did before. Because we can’t get too close to boys anymore, we have to remember who our girl-friends are.”
“Girlfriends?” Umbridge questioned, her voice a little strained.
“Friends who are girls,” Paulina clarified. “I’m remembering all over again how wonderful Annie is. I just want to spend all my time with her. I’ve never had that before, because all my friends were boys. But now, thanks to you, I’m only spending time with girls. I used to not like them very much, but I really do now. Thank you, Professor.”
Umbridge opened and closed her mouth a few times, searching for a reply, then walked away, wordless. Behind her, Annie Samson let out the breath she had been holding and gave Paulina’s shoulders a tight squeeze of congratulations.
~
“That’s the best bit about it,” Carrie was reporting happily to Sophie in a quiet corner of the library as Dan, Phil, Chris and PJ perched themselves on footstools and chairs. She had a grin on her lips that Dan hadn’t seen for many days. “It only works because she’s homophobic. We want her to believe that she’s made everyone gay. If she had two brain cells to rub together she’d realise that’s not how it works, people can’t change their sexuality. But she’s so terrified of the whole thing that it’s the automatic conclusion she jumps to.”
Sophie grinned back at her. “I’m so happy with how absolutely people got on board with it. I mean, it’s not a big ask – we’re only hanging around publically with same gender groups anyway – see Umbridge coming, split into pairs. Be as touchy as you dare. But you know, there are a few people who think she’s got the right idea. I thought they might cause a fuss, but so far I haven’t heard anything.”
“Me neither,” Chris shook his head. “Three of mine have spoken to her today, all similar questions.”
“You haven’t heard the best bit yet,” Phil said with a gleeful smile. “Apparently, Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall were holding hands earlier. Umbridge asked why, and McGonagall goes ‘Oh, it’s just the atmosphere in the castle at the moment. It’s all so lovely after your decree. I know it only applies to students, but it’s made me realise how little I’ve appreciated the female gender up until now.’ Umbridge looked like she was about to have an aneurism.”
“You should see Dumbledore,” Dan chortled. “He’s practically bouncing off the walls.”
“It was him that gave me the idea, actually,” Sophie confessed. No one could keep the smiles off their faces, and Madam Pince was very notably turning a blind eye to their illicit gathering.
“How so?” Carrie asked, intrigued.
“Well,” Sophie began. “I was walking down the second floor corridor on a free period, so it was pretty empty. Dumbledore was coming the other way. So obviously I did a half terrified, half polite smile and then, just out of the blue, he goes ‘have you got a plan yet?’ and I’m like, what? I swear that man has spies in the brickwork or something. Anyway, he then shakes his head and says ‘shame, I was hoping for something good. Well, best of luck to you. Have a very happy Christmas.’ And he walks off. So I sort of nod and grimace, and carry on trying to figure out what he was on about. I’ve barely gone two paces when I realise the suit of armour at the end of the corridor is singing something quiet, which is odd, you know? The only time they ever do anything is when they’re bewitched for festive stuff, like when they sing carols at Christmas. Naturally, I’m a little curious,” Sophie was getting into her story now, enjoying the suspense as her audience listened on eagerly. “Sure enough, he’s singing ‘Deck the Halls’, only something seemed to be going wrong with the charm, because he just kept repeating the line ‘don we now our gay apparel’. I have a little look at him, and then I turn around and Dumbledore had stopped at the other end of the corridor to watch me. So I just raise an eyebrow, and he winks and disappears round the corner.”
“You think he bewitched it to do that?” PJ asked.
“Maybe,” Sophie replied. “At least, I thought that’s probably what happened so I spent the whole rest of the day wondering what it meant. Like, ‘don we now our gay apparel’ – it was pretty clear his idea was for us all to go gay – the whole school, preferably. She can’t expel us all. But I didn’t think he’d want us to pretend to be gay. Some people might not be comfortable with that and even if it worked it’s a bit morally dodgy. It reinforces bad ideas. And I don’t think people would do it, the risk is too big. It only works if everyone does it so no one wants to go first just in case the rest chicken out and suddenly they’re expelled.
“This works way better, because we’re not doing anything wrong so there’s no risk. That’s why everyone joined in. And we’re protecting anyone actually in a same sex relationship, because it makes them much harder to spot when everyone is holding hands.”
“Crafty old codger, Alby.” Chris let out a low whistle. “He wasn’t even subtle about it. He flat out said ‘you beat that old crone to the ground’.”
“Well, I don’t think he ‘flat out said it’,” PJ pointed out with a smirk.
“Would have been better if he had,” Chris poked PJ in the leg with his foot. “But it was as close as. I was paraphrasing.”
“The point is,” Sophie said, rolling her eyes. “It’s working. But so is she. She’s not going to give up, she’s going to be coming up with a retaliation and we need to be ready for it with phase two. Do you reckon we could get a meeting together for Friday lunch?”
Chris nodded. “People are itching to get going. I reckon part of the reason we’ve managed such mass involvement is because everyone hates Umbridge so damn much. I mean, there are a fair few students that would love to see anything not-hetero wiped out completely, but they’re willing to give up on that dream for the chance of knocking Umbridge to the ground.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t really help herself there.” Carrie said amused. “Friday it is. Usual place? Behind the mirror in the fourth floor corridor?”
“It’s a date.” Sophie said with a wink, and Carrie’s cheeks burned suddenly crimson.
~
Friday dawned cold and clear. The smell of Christmas wasn’t quite yet in the air, but the anticipation was. Sophie noted that she had yet to spot a suit of armour spouting Christmas carols besides the rogue one that had led her to her epiphany. It was an adventure taken up wholeheartedly last year, what with the visiting delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, but with varying degrees of success. It was quite something to hear ‘Oh Come, All Ye Faithful’ sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words, and on several occasions Filch had to extract Peeves the poltergeist from the suits where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with his own, slightly more explicit lyrics.
The Fat Lady was the first of the Hogwarts inhabitants to embrace the Christmas spirit, a wreath of gold tinsel around her head like a halo. As Dan waited outside the Gryffindor common room for Chris and Phil, she gushed animatedly about Strauss’s Salome libretto.
“It’s not an easy piece,” the fat lady was saying. “You have a teenage girl expected to sing with the voice of a Brünnhilde, but after all, this is a girl gripped with teenage passion and hormonal turmoil. I don’t think it’s entirely unreasonable, if anything it only adds to the beauty of it.”
Dan nodded vaguely, checking his watch again. The password had changed overnight, but Phil and Chris had been in a Charms lesson together and Phil probably hadn’t even registered as he would have just walked through after Chris. Dan hoped they weren’t waiting inside for them while Dan was stuck outside unable to get through. He glanced over his shoulder, squinting for the sight of a Gryffindor who’d be able to let him in or at least take a message to Chris and Phil.
A figure appeared at the end of the corridor and Dan’s face lit up, only to fall again as the blue scarf around the tall boy’s neck caught the light.
“Are you even listening to me?” The Fat Lady scolded, and Dan jerked round guiltily.
“Yes, er, of course,” he mumbled. “I just don’t know much about opera.”
“Well if you only paid attention you might learn something,” she tutted. “Students get lazier every day. It’s no wonder grades are falling. This generation is spoilt and self-righteous.”
Dan was saved the trial of finding a suitable answer by a tap on the shoulder.
“Dan, you walnut. Did you not recognise me?” PJ asked.
“You were far away!” Dan protested, pulling the Ravenclaw into a hug. “Maybe I should get my eyes tested.”
PJ chuckled, ruffling Dan’s hair. “Still shorter than me, kid. What you waiting for? Are they dithering around up there?”
“Password’s changed,” Dan grunted, ducking out of PJ’s embrace and trying to fix up his hair. “Only those morons didn’t realise I’m not telepathic.”
“How long have you been waiting?” PJ laughed. “The password is ‘Christmas Quiet’,” He said, turning pointedly to the Fat Lady.
“Oh, yes, well, I was just saying to this boy about-”
“Christmas Quiet.” PJ repeated firmly, and reluctantly the portrait swung forwards, allowing them to duck down inside.
“How are you doing?” PJ asked, his voice low as they made their way across the common room towards the stairs. His tone was conversational, but Dan knew what he meant.
“I’m ok,” Dan said with a half-sigh. “It hasn’t really changed much as we were hardly skipping down the corridors hand in hand before, but it’s that constant paranoia. I’m scared to even look at Phil in public. I feel just a little bit sick, but all the time. Even in private, I’m still scared. What if she has spies? What if she’s put things in the rooms to check up on us? There aren’t a lot of places in this castle that are really truly private, except perhaps at the bottom of the lake, but that’s hardly the most romantic location.”
“I don’t know,” PJ chuckled. “Have you ever met the mer-people? I reckon they’re onto a good thing. They’ve got corals down there that blow these massive bubbles and there’s a hot spring coming out of the rocks.”
“What, like a hot tub?”
“What?”
“Never mind. Muggle thing.”
“You have mer-people?” PJ asked, interested.
“Only one. She’s called Ariel.”
“Really?!”
“No.” Dan rolled his eyes. “Well, except for Disneyland.”
“What’s that?”
“Christ. I’ll tell you another time.”
They had reached Chris’s dormitory and PJ shoved the door open, calling Chris’s name, but was met with no reply. Confused, Dan and PJ stared around the empty room.
“Where are they?” Dan asked, his voice small. “They wouldn’t have gone without us.”
PJ must have picked up the worry in Dan’s voice because he turned to him, his eyes suddenly sincere. “Don’t be silly. Nothing’s happened to them. Something came up and they went on without us. Come on, let’s go or we’ll be late. Maybe they went straight there.”
“I know, I know,” Dan said, his voice a little sheepish. “It’s like what I said, though. I’m paranoid. I’m constantly scared. The tiniest thing has got me worried.”
“I get it,” PJ said wryly. “I have to admit, my heart dropped a little there too. But there are a million and one reasons why they’re not here. If it wasn’t for our favourite decree, we wouldn’t have thought anything of it. C’mon, let’s go beat those two losers up for scaring us so much.”
~
There was something unusual about the atmosphere in the room, Dan decided as they entered the secret passageway on the fourth floor that had become their headquarters. Maybe it was the way everyone turned to look at him and PJ when they entered, or maybe it was the sudden hushed silence. Dan picked out Carrie’s face in a corner. She was staring straight at them, her lower lip trembling, something almost fearful in her expression.
PJ had slowed to a halt and was taking in the sea of faces, and Dan could tell he was thinking the same thing. What had happened?
“Carrie?” PJ said questioningly, but even as he said it, Dan knew the answer.
“You, haven’t heard?” Carrie asked, her voice a little faint, and Dan and PJ shook their heads.
Sophie got up and took PJ’s arm gently. Dan hadn’t seen her sitting in the shadows by the door, but her face was pale and lined with worry.
“It’s Chris and Phil, she said, her voice cracking. “Umbridge took them in for questioning. She said she was going to expel them.”
The scene swam in front of Dan’s eyes and the rest of Sophie’s words came out blurred and distance, as if he was underwater.
“I guess we should have seen this coming,” she continued. “It makes sense. The problem is mass organisation of the student body. United, we are stronger than her – there’s nothing she can do. But organisation requires leadership or it will all fall apart. She figured out who the leaders were.”
“How did she know?” PJ said hoarsely.
“Chris was obvious. He hadn’t exactly been secretive about his sexuality, before the decree. He’s a natural leader – he’s quidditch captain, he’s charismatic, he’s vocal and he’s likeable. He’s also skipped a lot of lessons recently, and has been seen all over the castle in places he shouldn’t be talking to people from different houses and years.
“As for Phil, well, a first year saw it happen. We don’t think she had meant to go for Phil. But he was walking with Chris and I think they said something about Umbridge being a hag and phase two of the plan and that was it, she pounced. She marched them both up to her office at wandpoint, and no one’s seen them since.”
PJ swore quietly, and then he swore again, loud and passionate and broken, again and again, yelling up at the stone ceiling. Sophie made no attempt to quiet him, instead casting a silencing charm on the door and slumping down on the floor.
No one spoke, sitting awkwardly listening to PJ’s yells and avoiding eye contact with the two boys stood by the door.
Dan still hadn’t said a word. He felt numb, staring blankly at the floor, and he didn’t notice that PJ had stopped screaming and started pacing.
“This is too much,” PJ was saying. “We need help. We’ll have to talk to the teachers, we have to save Chris and Phil. She has no proof that either of them are ‘engaging in same sex relations’, but if no one does anything she’ll quietly send them home before the other teachers have even realised what’s happening. We need to speak to Dumbledore. He can stop her.”
“I don’t know if he can, though,” Sophie said helplessly. “He doesn’t have the power that she has.”
“He has enough power to make sure she follows her own rules and that they get a fair trial.”
“How are we going to contact him?” Carrie asked briskly.
“McGonagall. She’s second in command, definitely closest to Dumbledore. And she likes Chris, for all the detentions she’s given him. She did make him Quidditch captain, after all. And she knew we were together – she caught us in her classroom one time- never mind. But she’s definitely not homophobic. I reckon it’s safe to talk to her. Anyone else?”
“Professor Sprout,” Dan spoke up, his head having finally stopped spinning. “I walked in on her with Madam Hooch behind the stands one night after Quidditch practice.”
There was a moment of silence. “Wow,” PJ said with a grin. “Carrie, will you talk to Sprout? She’s your head of house.”
“Yes of course,” Carrie said, her face starting to lighten. “You’re right, of course. She can’t expel them for calling her a hag and she has no way of proving what ‘plan’ they were talking about. They didn’t even reveal the code name.”
“I think we should get the teachers in on the whole thing,” Sophie said decidedly. “At least, the sympathetic ones. If we talk to Sprout and McGonagall I’m sure they’ll be able to handle that. And then we need to roll on phase two. Chris and Phil wouldn’t want us to give up, and shutting the whole decree down would be one sure way to free them from Umbridge’s spiny claws.”
There was a murmur of agreement, the atmosphere suddenly sombre again. The sheer size of the task ahead of them loomed momentous and daunting. Umbridge had the weight of the Ministry behind her. If the Ministry of Magic had decided that same sex relationships were not allowed at Hogwarts, could they really do anything about it?
The rest of the meeting passed in a bit of a blur. Everyone was in a hurry to get out of the small room filled so stiflingly with an uncomfortable fog, and the near constant glances over at the two boys hunched over silently by the door were starting to get to those sitting nearby. No one quite knew what to say, but Dan and PJ barely even registered the strained atmosphere. They were the only two that didn’t jump up the moment the meeting was adjourned, instead getting laboriously to their feet only as the last of the students slipped out through the dusty mirror and Carrie ushered them forwards.
“Stop being mopey,” she said briskly. “She won’t expel them. And they’re not muggleborns – Phil’s Dad is a very well respected scientist. If Umbridge does kick them out, their families will launch an appeal and they’ll be back here in no time. Besides, I’ve been reading up. She can’t just slip them quietly out of the door just because she says so. There’s a lot of paperwork to fill out and it has to go through all the proper procedures and everything. I really don’t think her decree would be able to override all that.”
“But what if it does?” PJ said miserably. “They’ll have their wands snapped. We won’t see them for months, and they’ll have no future. Their lives will be ruined. And anyway, to convict them of having ‘same sex relations’ she’d have to find who the relations were with.”
Carrie pursed her lips. “Look, thinking like that isn’t going to help them. The students at this school are rallying behind us. You should use your angst to fuel your rage and jump into the campaign with renewed vigour and passion.”
PJ sighed, but Dan nodded, a small shiver running through him.
“Look, Peej, they’re not going to die. She can’t torture them. And she can’t prove anything,” Dan said. “She’s just trying to scare us and break up our organization. She’ll lock them up for as long as she dares, but everything’s okay. They’re going to be okay and we’re going to be okay. The only person going down is Umbridge.”
The rest of the day passed in a smoky haze. It was disconcerting, Hogwarts without Phil, and it had only been 5 hours. Dan kept expecting Phil’s face to appear round a corner with a grin, or to get a tap on a shoulder and then a vivid reconstruction of the events that had occurred in Umbridge’s office, with Chris jumping on the tables to perform and Phil comparing Umbridge to a wild, many fanged beast.
He slipped unhappily into bed and then, eventually, into sleep. His bed seemed very cold and very large without a warm spot to his left from a recently departed Lester.
~
While Dan and PJ had spent almost every day together the whole year, it was oddly awkward just the two of them eating breakfast together the next day. Word had got around quick, and the other students were giving them a wide berth for fear of having to think of something appropriate to say. Umbridge wasn’t at the staff table and Dan and PJ had exchanged a glance, but refrained from voicing the dark thoughts that spun in their heads.
She hadn’t missed a single breakfast all year. What could she possibly be doing? And where had she kept Phil and Chris overnight? The castle didn’t house any prison cells, at least to Dan’s knowledge.
His preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable until he merged with the Gryffindor and Slytherin students arriving in greenhouse three, but here he was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class one of the ugliest plants Dan had ever seen. His first thought was that they weren’t plants at all but thick, black giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly, and had a number of large shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.
“Bubotubers,” Professor Sprout told them briskly. “They need squeezing. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves, it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, Bubotuber pus.”
Squeezing the Bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick, yellowish green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.
“Howell, can I have a word?” Said professor sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork as the rest of the class filed out of the greenhouse.
“Yes, of course.” Dan said, surprised. Dan had never shown any particular interest or ability in Herbology over the years, and he was surprised the Professor even knew his name.
“I’ve just had a word with a Miss Carrie Fletcher,” Professor Sprout said meaningfully, casting a surreptitious glance over her shoulder at the backs of the disappearing students. “You are… friends with Phil Lester, correct?”
Dan nodded glumly.
“I heard about what happened. I’m really sorry. Lester is a favourite of mine, the levitating pansies he grew last year… spectacular. I’ve not seen anything quite so vibrant outside of the Brazilian Rainforests. That boy has a real talent. But don’t worry, we’re working on it. He’ll be back in the greenhouse in no time, that toad is going down I tell you.”
Hearing the words from a teacher lifted Dan’s heart from where it was slumped miserably in his ribcage, and suddenly victory seemed tangible and quite within their grasp. The students were helpless animals who could only be herded where they were directed and slaughtered at will, but the teachers had power. Despite himself, Dan’s mouth curved into a smile.
“Thank you, Professor,” he said sincerely. “We sure are working on it.”
“As are we, my boy. Attack from both sides. She doesn’t stand a chance.”