A Different Hogwarts

". . . Well, it's not really like Hogwarts anymore," Chris heard Neville say as she and Harry caught up with the others in the tunnel. The smile faded from Neville's face as he spoke. "The Carrows along with some of Malgino's minions work here."

"They teach here?" asked Ron bewildered.

"They do more than teach," said Neville. "They're in charge of all discipline. They like punishment, the Carrows."

"Like Umbridge?" Hermione asked.

"Nah, they make her look tame. The other teachers are all supposed to refer us to the Carrows if we do anything wrong. They don't, though, if they can avoid it. You can tell they all hate them as much as we do."

"Amycus, the bloke, he teaches what used to be Defense Against the Dark Arts, except now it's just the Dark Arts. We're supposed to practice the Cruciatus Curse on people who've earned detentions – "

"What?"

Harry, Chris, Ron, and Hermione's united voices echoed up and down the passage. Ginny, Colin, and Luna looked grim like they already knew.

"Yeah," said Neville. "That's how I got this one," he pointed at a particularly deep gash in his cheek, "I refused to do it. Some people are into it, though; Crabbe. Goyle and Pansy Parkinson. They think it's fun."

At the mention of his friends, Draco looked rather uncomfortable, especially when Ron turned around to glare at him.

"Alecto, Amycus's sister, teaches Muggle Studies, which is compulsory for everyone. We've all got to listen to her explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty, how they drive wizards into hiding by being vicious toward them, and how the natural order is being reestablished. I got this one," he indicated another slash to his face, "for asking her how much Muggle blood she and her brother have got."

"Blimey, Neville," said Colin, "there's a time and a place for getting a smart mouth."

"You didn't see her," said Neville. "You wouldn't have stood it either. The thing is, it helps when people stand up to them, it gives everyone hope. I used to notice that when you did it, Chris. And you, Harry"

"But they've used you as a knife sharpener," said Hermione, winding slightly as they passed a lamp and Neville's injuries were thrown into even greater relief.

Neville just shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. They don't want to spill too much pure blood, so they'll torture us a bit if we're mouthy but they won't actually kill us."

Chris did not know what was worse, the things that Neville was saying or the matter-of-fact tone in which he told them.

"The only people in real danger are the ones whose friends and relatives on the outside are giving trouble. They get taken hostage. And the ones who have muggle blood in them. Like Dean."

"Neville, we met Dean, he is ok now," Ginny informed.

"Yeah, I know. He sent me a message."

From his pocket, Neville pulled a golden coin, and Chris recognized it as one of the fake Galleons that Dumbledore's Army had used to send one another messages.

"These have been great," said Neville, beaming at Chris, Ginny, and Hermione. "The Carrows never rumbled how we were communicating, it drove them mad. We used to sneak out at night and put graffiti on the walls: Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting, and stuff like that. Snape hated it."

"You used to?" said Harry, who had noticed the past tense.

"Well, it got more difficult as time went on," said Neville. "The Carrows seemed to know I was behind a lot of it, so they started coming down on me hard, and then Michael Corner went and got caught while helping some third years, who were in detention and they tortured him pretty badly. That scared people off. So I couldn't ask them to do anything anymore but I had to do something. So I tried to do things alone, but Padma and Parvati stepped up. They helped a lot, yet this time we were about to get caught releasing two first-years they'd chained up and I feared for the worst, that's when Draco helped us and I knew he was on our side."

Everyone turned to look at Draco, who shrugged under the dim lamplight. 

"They were torturing 11-year-olds, I couldn't get the kids out but I could distract them enough so that somebody can. So, it's not like I had a choice," he muttered under his breath and Ginny smiled.

"Yeah, well, because of Draco's help," Neville smiled at Draco and continued. "We kept fighting, doing underground stuff, right up until a couple of weeks ago. That's when they decided there was only one way to stop me, I suppose, and they went for Gran."

"They what?" said Chris and others together.

"Yeah," said Neville, panting a little now, because the passage was climbing so steeply, "well, you can see their thinking. It had worked really well, kidnapping kids to force their relatives to behave. I suppose it was only a matter of time before they did it the other way around. The thing was," he faced them, and Chris was astonished to see that he was grinning, "they bit off a bit more than they could chew with Gran. Little old witch living alone, they probably thought they didn't need to send anyone particularly powerful. Anyway," Neville laughed, "Dawlish is still in St. Mungo's and Gran's on the run. She sent me a letter," he clapped a hand to the breast pocket of his robes, "telling me she was proud of me, that I'm my parent's son, and to keep it up."

"Cool," said Colin, and to her own surprise, Chris let out a chuckle.

"Yea," said Neville happily. "Only thing was, once they realized they had no hold over me, they decided Hogwarts could do without me after all. I don't know whether they were planning to kill me or send me to Azkaban, either way, I knew it was time to disappear."

"But," said Hermione, looking thoroughly confused, "aren't – aren't we heading straight back for Hogwarts?"

"'Course," said Neville. "You'll see. We're here."

They turned a corner and there ahead of them was the end of the passage. Another short flight of steps led to a door just like the one hidden behind Ariana's portrait. Neville pushed it open and climbed through. As Chris followed the others, she heard Neville call out for unseen people:

"Look who it is! Didn't I tell you?"

As Chris emerged into the room behind the passage, there were several screams and yells: "HARRY!" "It's Potter, it's POTTER!" "It's Chris!" "Look it's Norton with them" "CHRIS!" "Ginny!" "Colin!" "Luna!" "Hermione!" "Ron!"

She had a confused impression of colored hangings, lamps, and many faces. The next moment, before she could recognize anyone, she was engulfed, hugged, her hair ruffled, hands shaken, by what seemed to be more than thirty people. They might have just won a Quidditch final. 

"You look so different, doesn't she?" Chris heard a voice say during the commotion.

"Yes," said a very familiar voice. "She looks more gorgeous."

"Okay, okay, calm down!" Neville called, and only when the crowd backed away could Chris finally see the familiar voice's owner.

With many new and old-looking black and purple bruises on his handsome face, Adrian Rivers grinned at her. He was already very tall but now in his torn robes, he looked rugged, yet his smile didn't lose the softness.

"Adrian!" Chris grinned.

"Still as charming as before, Chris," Adrian spoke with his usual delightful smooth voice and Chris hugged him laughing.

Considering the way their last conversation went, Adrian probably wasn't expecting such a warm reunion from Chris. But things have changed and so were the people. Adrian hugged Chris with equal intensity and warmth.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my charm for long," Adrian joked as they let each other go.

"Oh, shut up," Chris chuckled and turned to look around.

Finally, she was able to take in their surroundings. She did not recognize the dorm at all. It was enormous and looked rather like the interior of a particularly sumptuous tree house, or perhaps a gigantic ship's cabin. Multicolored hammocks were strung from the ceiling and from the balcony that ran around the dark wood-paneled and windowless walls, which were covered in bright tapestry hangings. Chris saw the gold Gryffindor lion, emblazoned on scarlet; the black badger of Hufflepuff, set against yellow; and the bronze eagle of Ravenclaw, on blue. The silver and green of Slytherin alone were absent. There were bulging bookcases, a few broomsticks propped against the walls, and in the corner, a large wood-cased wireless.

"Where are we?"

[To be continued]