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Niamh grit her teeth, looking around at how smug her fellow housemates were when the other houses were almost silent. She just couldn’t understand how they could be okay with Hogwarts being turned into something close to a Dark Arts school. Weren’t they supposed to learn how to be great witches and wizards?
She wished she could eat with her friends from Hufflepuff, even just to be bold, but she wasn’t bold, she was just a Slytherin, not a dumb Gryffindor. She looked over at the Hufflepuff table and saw her friends looking over at her briefly before going back to their dinner.
“Listen up, ya brats. The respectable Headmaster wants to speak.” Niamh’s attention snapped to the professors’ table where Professor Amycus yelled at the students. She never understood why he yelled anymore, since no one ever made much noise during meals since the first week of school.
Professor Snape came forward and gazed across the sea of students before speaking.
“I know I have said this many times before, but I must again ask if any of you have heard anything about the Undesirable number one, Harry Potter, during the course of this school year.” He was greeted with silence, and maybe a couple of coughs.
“Very well. I hope you all sleep well, and get to your classes on time tomorrow.” He announced before sweeping around and walking away.
Niamh bolted from her House table and hurried to her friends, wanting to talk for a bit before curfew.
“Hey, guys.” She smiled at them.
“Hey, Niamh.” Her smile dropped as she heard the almost robotic tone of her best friend, Grace, reply to her.
“What happened?” She demanded, stopping them by a quiet corner before the stairs. “What happened this time?”
Grace and her other friend Ella wouldn’t meet her eyes as Grace responded. “They did it again. Dark Arts class. Longbottom.”
Niamh didn’t need to hear any more. She already could tell what happened. Of course Longbottom did something in Dark Arts. He always did. He was a popular topic in the Slytherin Common Room now, along with the mysterious group “Dumbledore’s Army.”
“How bad was it this time?” She asked, dropping her voice to close to a whisper. She didn’t know what happened during the class because Professor Amycus’ sister had asked for her help during the class time.
“I don’t know. Carrow drove off his friends before turning him over to the Hospital Wing. Hannah was worried sick for about three hours until she was able to see him.” Ella said.
“Ugh, when will he just stop egging them on?” Niamh groaned. “Doesn’t he realize classes would go faster if he didn’t try to be a smartass?”
“I find what he does to be very brave. He’s trying to stop Carrow from hurting the other students. Remember the first time he attacked him?” Grace responded.
Niamh winced. “I’d rather not remember what I had done on that day, and remembering what he did does not help me forget.” She still heard the screams in her nightmares. Why had she gone along with the rest of her classmates?
“Sorry. But still, he’s brave. Stupid, but brave.”
** May 2 **
Months had passed since then, and Niamh had thought her two closest friends had been killed by her professors for backing up the mysterious DA days ago.
She had woken up to her head of house, Professor Slughorn, calling every student to wake up, that something very serious was happening. She at first thought it was going to be bad, that the Carrows had caught Neville or one of his closer friends and was about to perform an execution.
She was relieved to find out that wasn’t the case.
Professors Carrows and Snape were nowhere to be found, and Professor McGonagall was standing in front of the sea of students in her night robe, her hair down for the first time in Niamh’s Hogwarts life. She was telling the students about an evacuation point because of an upcoming fear of battle.
“What if we want to stay and fight?” She heard a guy yell from the Hufflepuff table. Niamh blinked in surprise, A Hufflepuff wanting to fight?
“If you are of age, you may fight.” The Gryffindor head of house replied.
“Where’s Professor Snape?” An old friend, Sadie, asked from her table.
“He has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk.” McGonagall said, and was rewarded by cheers from the other houses, while Niamh’s house was quiet in confusion.
Professor McGonagall was about to speak again when a cold, death-like voice seemed to vibrate through the Great Hall and into Niamh’s brain, making her clutch her head with a cry, only to be drowned out by the screams of many others.
“I know that you are preparing to fight.” The voice said, and even though Niamh had never heard the voice, she knew from stories told by her parents it was the voice of the Dark Lord.
She looked around at her Housemates, and most of her friends were clutching their heads or each other, while others, like Crabbe or Goyle, looked around in wonder. She glanced over at Draco, and saw him pale, turning whiter than his hair, and then at Pansy, who seemed to have stiffened in shock.
“Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until Midnight.”
And then the presence was gone, leaving a silence so loud it hurt Niamh’s ears.
She almost jumped when Pansy stood up and shouted, “But he’s there! Potter’s there! Someone grab him!”
Niamh looked at Pansy as if she had gone mad. Give Potter to You-Know-Who? Hadn’t he been trying to get Potter since he was a baby?
She wasn’t the only one, as she looked around and saw the other three houses stand and look at Pansy threateningly.
McGonagall looked at the Slytherin with what looked close to distain and told her to lead her house first. Niamh stood with her house before she thought carefully.
Her parents had been victims of You-Know-Who, her father being a muggleborn and killed by You-Know-Who’s followers, the Death Eaters when she had been only a year old. Her mother had raised her to be smart and cunning, and Niamh’s cunning had been so great she was sorted into Slytherin within minutes of the Sorting Hat touching her head. She may be a Slytherin, but she wasn’t someone who supported the death toll and the violence that the other houses seemed to think Slytherin supported.
To everyone’s surprise, Niamh sat back down, her head held high as she heard several people try to bash her. She tried to ignore the words, as she had down since she had been sorted seven years ago, but it still hurt her. She had as much reason to fight as anyone else and she was of age to fight, so to hell with anyone who tries to tell her otherwise.
It was when the insults started to fade that she heard something that made her nearly cry. Grace and Ella, standing up from the Hufflepuff table, yelling encouragement at Niamh before walking over to her to sit next to her, as the younger Hufflepuffs were led away by the prefects. Niamh kept her head high as her friends sat down beside her, taking her hands and gripping them tight, eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall.
Soon the only students that were sitting were those willing to fight as well as the professors and several other adults. Niamh saw Potter as well as Neville and several others she had thought disappeared a week ago. She wondered where they had gone to, and how the Carrows hadn’t found them for a week, at least.
“You sure you’re gunna help?” Ella asked, before slapping her mouth.
Niamh had never felt so hurt, as she stared wide-eyed at her friend, slowly retracting her hand from Ella’s grasp.
“Are you mad? Of course she is.” Grace scolded Ella. “She has as much reason to fight as any of us. She’s a Hogwarts student, and her own father was murdered by those followers of You-Know-Who. And Professor McGonagall had said she was not going to let anyone hinder the protection of this school.”
“I. I know. I’m sorry, Niamh, I.” Ella stumbled over her words, close to tears as the trio heard McGonagall call the fighters closer for giving tasks out.
Niamh didn’t answer, too hurt to hear Ella’s attempts of apologizing.
When the trio approached the rest of the fighters, everyone gave dirty looks at Niamh, but she ignored them, having grown numb to the stares or worse since her first year. Everyone in Slytherin was tough-skinned, as soon as the Sorting Hat had the first syllable sounded. They had to be, or else they’d be bullied by both their own housemates, and the entire school. Niamh had seen what that could do to a kid, and still had nightmares of the times she had entered the baths and saw them floating.
Soon Niamh was ordered to help the Weasley twins with defences if the entrances of any passages into the school, Grace would be with Professor Sprout and Flitwick as she was among those with great spell work, and Ella was ordered into Professor Lupin’s group on the ground to fight. Niamh said nothing as she and her friends were separated, but Grace wished them both luck, and Ella tried to apologize again.
She was walking with the rest of the defence group when one of the Weasley’s asked her a question.
“What’s a rotten Death Eater wannabe doing helping the school?” He smirked down at her.
Niamh saw red and had pulled out her wand and had the Weasley in a corner before anyone could blink.
He raised his arms with his smirk returning after his momentary shock left him.
“You call me that again, and I’ll hex you. I’ll never be a Death Eater.” She spat, fury coursing her system. “I may be a Slytherin, but I care for this school just as much as you do. So kindly fuck off and let me protect this school full of assholes and friends.”
The Weasley’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. “So there are nice Slytherins after all, huh? Nice to see that.”
“Uh huh.” Niamh rolled her eyes and slowly withdrew from him, swallowing thickly as she turned to see her fellows’ wands in her face.
“Hey, guys. It’s okay. Don’t turn on your allies.” The Weasley she had threatened stood between her and the others, hands held up.
“Allies? With a Slytherin? Are you insane?” Seamus Finnigan blurted and Niamh tried to pounce on him, but the Weasley twin held her back. “See? Why would she be our ally?”
Before the distrust and anger could escalate, the other Weasley twin stepped forward with a flash from his wand.
“Everyone calm down. We don’t have time to play ‘good or bad’ okay? If Fred says she’s nice, then go on his word. For once. Now come on.” He said, before turning and continuing to walk down the passageway. “We don’t have much time to prepare, and we have a few passageways to up the defence for.”
Chaos. Sheer chaos.
They had been able to protect the passageways for a little bit before they were able to push through. Niamh had taken one look at the closest Death Eater, and bolted with the others. Her group had separated from her after ten minutes after midnight, and she was alone, dodging spells and falling stones as she sprinted through the hallways of Hogwarts.
It was when she was on the second floor when she saw a familiar figure running by, followed by a couple of dark figures throwing spell after spell at them. Niamh changed course and sprinted after the figure, before skidding to a halt when she saw the sickening green light hit the figure full on the back.
Ella gave a scream that cut off as the spell fully hit her, before she crumpled to the floor, dead. Niamh couldn’t stop herself from screaming, her hands over her ears as she doubled over.
“No! No!” She continued to scream as the Death Eaters turned to her.
Something in her snapped, and Niamh felt her shock turn to fury. She dropped her hands and viciously threw curse after curse at the two Death Eaters, knocking one out and began dueling the other, all the while screaming the same word over and over.
Finally her opponent was hit by her curse and flew backwards, unconscious. She panted for several seconds before covering her face, feeling tears pour down her cheeks she hadn’t noticed until then. She shakily took a couple steps towards the fallen body of Ella, and when she made it to the body; she fell to her knees, grabbing her friend by the shoulders, shaking her slightly.
“C’mon, Ella. Please. Don’t.” She pleaded, sobbing. “Please. I’m sorry I didn’t. I didn’t say anything. The last-no. Ella, please! Say something!”
But Ella didn’t. Her glassy eyes were open in shock, frozen in terror. The dust that coated her face was soon wiped away as Niamh’s tears fell on her face.
It wasn’t fair. She wasn’t supposed to die. Niamh was supposed to forgive her after the battle, after proving herself to the entire school that not all Slytherins were evil or would sell out their classmates.
Grace found Niamh after You-Know-Who had spoken again, saying they had an hour. She found her exactly where she had been since Ella had died. Niamh was numb by then, and had nearly blasted Grace when her friend had put her hand on her shoulder.
“Niamh? Wha-Ella?! Ella!” Grace’s concern turned to dread as she saw the body Niamh was gripping. “Niamh, what happened?!”
“She was there. I couldn’t do anything but watch as it hit her.” She mumbled, her eyes glossy and numb. “I couldn’t do a damn thing. I didn’t get to say I forgive her. The last thing I ever did with her was fight.”
Niamh looked up at Grace. “We never made up. She’s dead and must think I hate her for her stupid comment.”
Grace didn’t say a thing; she just grabbed her friend’s shoulders and pulled her towards her, sobbing loudly as she hugged her.
They sat there for one very long minute, neither talking, before Grace pushed away and stood up, grabbing for Ella, but withdrew quickly at the growl Niamh gave her.
Niamh was helped up and she carried Ella to the Great Hall, the last place she had ever heard Ella speak before the battle began. Grace helped guide her to a place where Niamh could lay Ella down beside the countless others who had been killed. By then, Niamh had returned to her senses slightly, and she looked around at the other bodies. She saw several adults and a couple professors she had seen around but never had.
It was then that she saw the familiar red shock of hair that took her by surprise. There, only a couple feet from where Ella lay, was the Weasley twin she had threatened not two hours ago, dead. His family surrounded him, all in varying stages of grief.
She grabbed Grace’s hand and walked to an empty spot in the Great Hall and sat down, tugging her only friend left down with her.
“Niamh?” Grace asked, looking at her with concern.
“I just want to say this, because I don’t want what happened with Ella to happen to us.” Niamh spoke quickly in case Grace tried to interrupt. “I could never be mad with you, because whatever you have done is nothing compared to what I’ve done. You and Ella are the nicest people I ever knew, and I love you to death. I don’t want to have any ill feelings towards you ever, and if we both make it out of here alive, I never want to fight with you ever again.”
Grace was silent for several seconds, searching Niamh’s face closely. Niamh was about to speak again when Grace grabbed her head and pulled her close, kissing her. Niamh was too surprised to react; she just allowed the kiss to happen with wide eyes.
Grace let go of her, her face bright red.
“If I die tonight, I just needed to do that. Sorry.” She wouldn’t look Niamh in the eyes.
“And if we live, you’re going to have to do that more often.” Niamh replied after a stretch of silence, her face feeling warm before leaning forward and kissing Grace, a chaste little kiss that demanded to be longer but they broke away.
With that promise hanging in the air, the two stayed together for the entire hour of mourning.
It was when the allotted hour had finished when everyone started to feel uneasy. Where was the voice of You-Know-Who?
Just as a Ravenclaw student asked that, they heard his deathly voice again, and with his words, everyone’s hearts stopped.
“Harry Potter is dead.”
No one moved, and Niamh knew everyone was holding their breaths as they listened to the cold words, wishing he was lying as they looked around themselves to see if Harry was with them.
“Come out of the castle, kneel before me, and you will be spared.”
Niamh stood up, uncomprehending. It was impossible. Just impossible. Harry Potter could not be dead. He was The Boy Who Lived, not the Boy Who Died.
Slowly the survivors walked, zombie-like, out into the front of the school, to see the large group of Death Eaters with You-Know-Who standing off to the side, beside a large figure. Niamh squinted before realizing the figure was Hagrid, and in his arms was a bundle.
“No!” Niamh and the others turned to Professor McGonagall, and it tugged at her heart to hear the head of Gryffindor to sound so horrified.
Soon others started screaming, as she saw Harry’s two closest friends and the Weasley’s only girl cry out in anguish.
Grace gripped Niamh’s hand tightly as she whispered.
“No. That can’t be. It can’t be real.” She repeated.
Others copied her, and soon the front steps were filled with the cries of anguish until a flash of light appeared.
“SILENCE.” You-Know-Who commanded, and Niamh felt a powerful silencing charm snatch her voice away from her as he gloated.
She watched as he gloated, forcing Hagrid to drop Harry at his feet.
“He beat you!” Harry’s best friend yelled, and suddenly Niamh felt her voice return, and she took up the chant with the others.
You-Know-Who looked shocked before looking angry as he raised his wand and another flash of light appeared and she felt her voice being taken away again.
He began to gloat again, saying something about Harry trying to escape. Niamh wouldn’t believe him, after knowing the Boy Who Lived for seven years. He would never do something as smart as run away to save himself. He was a Gryffindor, someone who ran into danger, not run away.
She almost didn’t see Neville break away from the survivors’ side until he was halfway between the two groups where he was cursed and thrown off his feet, his wand flying from his grasp.
“And who is this?” You-Know-Who hissed like a snake.
A crazy-looking woman cackled as she answered him. “It is Neville Longbottom. The son of the Aurors, remember?”
“Ah, yes, I remember.” There was a flash in his eyes as he slowly approached the unarmed teen. All eyes were wide with fright and worry for Neville, and Niamh was no exception.
Neville stood up, facing You-Know-Who, and all the survivors could see were his balled up fists as he held his head high.
“You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom.” He hissed softly, as if trying to hypnotize the Gryffindor.
“I’ll join you when Hell freezes over!” Neville shouted. “Dumbledore’s Army!”
There were shouts of agreement, Niamh going along with them as she saw Grace cry out with them. She looked over at her friend, and Grace looked back shamefaced.
“We couldn’t tell you, because we feared all Slytherins would rat us out to the Carrows, or they were all charmed to snitch or something.” She mumbled to her.
Niamh couldn’t reply, because she knew it had been true. The pressure the Carrows had placed on the Slytherin House was immense and had more than once put a strain on her friendship with Ella and Grace.
She was so into her thoughts, she hadn’t seen or heard what had transpired until she saw something close to a rag fly into You-Know-Who’s hand.
“There will be no more houses at Hogwarts, only the emblem of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice, won’t it, Neville Longbottom?”
With that, he flicked his wrist and Neville grew rigid from the unheard petrifying spell, and he shoved the rag, which Niamh realized was the Sorting Hat, onto his head before combusting it, engulfing Neville’s head in flames.
In only a couple of moments, chaos erupted as the dead body of Harry rose up, wand in hand, and several voices came roaring to begin fighting, and finally, with the paralyzed Neville freeing himself and grabbing a sword from the inside of the hat and slicing off the head of the snake You-Know-Who had kept around him.
** After the Battle **
Niamh felt shaky. She was sitting by herself at the edge of the table, trying to take calming breaths.
After the battle had finished, several students who had seen Niamh fight came over to apologize for how they had acted towards her, and that maybe they were wrong about Slytherin house. She had nodded every time, not saying anything, and soon was left alone.
But she wasn’t alone for long, as she felt a hand interlock with her own and glanced to the side to see Grace sliding in beside her with a soft smile.
They didn’t talk for a while, eating what was appearing before them that the house-elves gladly made everyone.
It wasn’t until the sun was streaming through the broken wall of the Great Hall that one of them spoke.
“So.” Grace began. “Hmm.”
“Yep. So.” Niamh looked at her friend, her fingers intertwined with Grace’s.
“We survived this. We actually lived.” Grace said, and when Niamh nodded, she continued. “We did promise to do something if we made it out alive, didn’t we?”
Niamh blinked before nodding slowly, leaning against Grace.
“We have the rest of our lives to do that, I just want to sleep.” She sighed heavily, feeling all the adrenaline finally leave her body, rendering her exhausted.
“Yeah, we do, don’t we?” Grace replied, tilting Niamh’s head slightly to kiss her cheek.
Niamh hummed before closing her eyes, curling up towards her only friend, and first girlfriend, falling asleep almost immediately.