: Wow! I'm absolutely amazed at the response! And here I was, thinking I'd get maybe six reviews... thanks, all of you, sooo much. I feel like bursting out into song, but I'll leave that to a more experienced writer. ;) By the way, nobody got a cookie for realizing the part about Eris's Nana being a famous dancer, like Billy's grandmother in Billy Elliot. (And no extra cookies for realizing Terra Osborn, the author of Hot in Hogsmeade
, is an anagram of Nora Roberts!) I'll go now, and happy reading!
Chapter 2- October: How to Take the News
I lost my journal again. This time it was actually in my trunk, but I couldn't find it. Isn't that stupid? I've been too busy to write much, anyway, actually.
Wayne got mad at me last night because the team got only third place last week at the match. Or at least, that's what he was telling me last night. He said I've got a lot of potential, so I shouldn't be concentrating on beating Slytherin just because my brother's a git (has everyone heard already?). He said if I did that, we'd really only win the last one, and then where would we be?
I told him that didn't really make sense, and then I told him to shut up and let me play with Kevin. He didn't listen, though. He just kept going on and on and I didn't hear a word.
Then I said I get offensive when people mock my Gobstonesyishness, but, Merlin, it was only a game!
And then he told me to shut up and practice, which was basically what I was trying to do in the first place.
Yeah. Hey, Emmy, fancy a game of Gobstones? Everyone's too busy to play with me, even the rest of the club. Even Maria, with her YWS. (Which has changed her a lot. She's just turned eleven, but she wears make-up now. It's Muggle make-up, though-- the YWS girls won't tell her where to buy the magical sort until she passes a test. Why would anyone take a test just to know where to buy magical make-up? I've got enough tests already, thanks.)
Hey, maybe Priscilla does like Gobstones, even if she did give me her set. I'm starting to like her the teensiest bit. I think I'll ask her.
Hurrah! She did want to play with me! (But she's not very good, so I'm not sure playing with her counted as practice.) I'll have to play with Wayne more often, if he lets me.
Oh! Forgot to add. Snape didn't compliment me again (he ignored me this time actually), but I made another perfect potion. I think Professor Snape was having a bad day. On the other hand, he hasn't had a good one since the day he told me I'd made an excellent boil cure potion. He must regret telling me, or perhaps I'm losing my touch....
History of Magic again. I have decided to absolutely, never ever become a historian. I suppose I should take some notes, though, shouldn't I?
Baldwin the Overlooked of Sussex, England, attempted robbery of Gringotts, 1631.... Never mind. It's just too boring.
Brianne, are you bored, too?
Snape doesn't regret it. Yesterday, he told Mallory and me that we should take a leaf out of your book.
Oh. Thanks, then. Hey! You read what I wrote!
Can't help it. You wrote a note to me on the same page, you know. (You don't seem the historian sort, anyway.)
Come on! Write back!
Can't. How will I trust you that you won't go reading my journal again?
You're really odd. Come, I promise I won't read anything else, except for what you write to me, of course.
How's Quidditch, lately?
I'm absolutely horrible, but Cap'n Woodhouse won't admit that she mixed Mallory and me up, so I've got to stick with it.
What's that Binns is saying? It sounds a little interesting... never mind, he killed it. What's the point of HoM, anyways?
There's a good thing about playing Quidditch. We get to play Gryffindor, and have you seen---
Harry Potter? I know!
Actually, I was sort of thinking of the Keeper, Ron Weasley.
He's fit, too, I suppose. Everyone can tell he likes their other friend, the bookish one with bushy hair, though, so it's not like you've got much of a chance.
You say that like you've got more of a chance with Harry Potter.
Toad choir try-outs today. Even though singing while holding a huge, slimy frog isn't appealing, I've decided to
audishon audition. I haven't got a lovely voice, but singing is quite fun. (Funner without toads, but I can't be a beggar.)
There's a third year boy with a toad-- his name's Duncan Rinehart. Perhaps he'll let me use his toad to practice my singing. Then again, it's a very normal toad, so maybe it can't sing.
PrissyPriscilla practicing her scales. She's going out for choir, too. Her voice is so pretty. It's making me very sleepy.
It's not smart to write while laying on your bed__________________________
I fell asleep. Voice very groggy during audition. Will find out if I made it tomorrow. Think probably not. Very late. Sleep now.
Didn't make it, surprise of surprises. Priscilla did, though. Flitwick told her she'd done "excellent" when she sang for him. I'm sort of proud (and jealous) of
Prissy Priscilla. I gave her a few jelly slugs, and not sugar quills like you'd think, because I'm very nice and I save sugar quills for events of lesser importance. Or for when I have too many, and have to give them away before I eat them all myself and get sick.
Well, actually, I couldn't find the quills.
Mallory, did you hear about Priscilla?
Well, it's good, isn't it?
Mal, are you okay?
Eris, could you please just let me do my work?
Hum, very strange, that. Mallory usually never passes up a chance to pass notes, and she certainly doesn't actually work during note days in Transfiguration.
I'll ask Brianne if something's wrong with her sister.
So I've figured out what's wrong. It went like this:
"Brianne! Wait!" I called to her, because she was hurrying so quickly away to Herbology. "D'you know what's wrong with Mallory?"
Brianne seemed very uncomfortable. "Erm, no." She began walking away quickly again, so I had to hurry and catch up with her, and then stop in front of her.
"Why're you going so fast? I'll go to class with you."
She handed me a copy of the Daily Prophet, hurried away-- and I quickly found out why.
Five Death Eaters Escape
Last night, five of the Death Eaters that were
caught in the Ministry of Magic last June were
either let loose or escaped. This morning, Minister Cornelius Fudge
made a statement saying that he believes as if
the Dementors, long-time allies and guards
of Azkaban prison, have turned against us. He suspects
that they are behind this breakout. Please keep an eye
out for the following persons: Lucius Malfoy, Benjamin Nott,
Franklin Crabbe, Augustus Rookwood, and Gregory
Goyle (Sr.). Remain cautious; these men are immensely
dangerous. Report by owl anything you learn to the
Department of Magical Law Enforcement, at the Ministry.
Yeah. Nott. A Nott that just happens to be my father.
My life is ruined.
I told you my life is ruined. Nobody talks to me except for Brianne, and she really only says "Hi." Everyone is either scared of me (because, as a first year Hufflepuff, I am, of course, the biggest threat to the Wizarding World right now) or mad at me. I also get to live with my--former, mind-- brother's glares and the occasional smirk from fellow children of Death Eaters.
And my cat's not even being very sympathetic. I think she's pregnant. I know! I could sell her kittens and win back the love of all animal-loving Hufflepuffs-- or better yet, give them away for free!
Priscilla just gave me a note, since we're all in the dorm right now. I think she levitated it, we just learned today. I'm really jealous of her handwriting. Anyways, it says:
Don't tell anyone, but I know how you feel. My sister's in Slytherin, and my Mum and Dad are both in training to be Death Eaters.
Sucks, doesn't it?
DO NOT TELL ANYONE!
Now what was the point of telling me that? Why
greive grieve me with her ability to keep it secret?
Okay, so I'm being a drama queen, but really, Priscilla has not said one word to me in the last two days and now she sends this genuinely stupid note to me about the Slytherinishness of her sister. Whatever.
Emmy must be pregnant. With Lollipop's kittens! Ew. That's sort of a gross thought.
I've just come from my Gobstones Club meeting. Hardly anyone spoke to me the entire time, except for Wayne, and all he told me was, "Eris. We're going to use Matthew Shaver's team instead of yours this weekend, all right? I know you're the best, but, really, we're only playing Gryffindor, so we don't really need the best. Hope you don't mind."
Oh no, I don't mind being replaced, not in the least. I know it's just because of... well, Daddy, but still. Knowing the reason doesn't make me feel any better.
In better news, my birthday's in two days.
My birthday. Nana sent me sweets, two new robes, and a book called The Young Girls' Guide to Witchhood. (I took a peek, and I plan never to read it, except in VERY, VERY urgent
sircomstances circumstances. I already know about that sort of stuff, and, besides, I'd rather not read about it.) She sent me a letter, too, and it says:
Happy twelfth birthday, love! I'm sorry it had to be ruined by that nasty article in the Prophet. You can't believe everything you read, you know! Of course, you know your daddy's been on a business trip for his job at the Ministry-- just last night he came home with a bouquet for me! Pity he had to leave so soon, though.
Ah. Ignorance must be bliss.
While wondering how to tell Nana that the world wasn't such a lovely place after all, and that her son-in-law is actually You-Know-Who's servant, I counted all of the sugar quills I've gotten in the past month, and the grand total is eighty seven.
87! I wonder if Nana is spewing them out of her nose back home? Do we have a sugar quill factory underneath the house?
If we do, I wonder if I might be able to get a few-- erm, certain people-- to eat the poisonous ones.
So today was my first complete day of being twelve (I found it funny that it's the twelfth). Truthfully? Nothing's really different. Maybe there was this eensy weensy bit of me that thought by my birthday, the Prophet would admit Daddy's Death Eaterishness was all a joke, he would come home, Nana would get better, and Teddy would start speaking to me again. (And that Mum would come back, but I've been wishing that for years and it's never happened.) Yeah, right. I thought wrong.
The only thing that happened was Daddy sending me an envelope of Galleons and a letter saying to ask Teddy to but me something from Hogsmeade, and that Daddy would explain everything in his next letter. As if I could ask Teddy to buy me something. He's NOT SPEAKING TO ME.
The worst thing about that is that he doesn't even bother to avoid me. He acts the same as he always does, walking through the halls, by himself as usual, acting like I'm not even there. The first few times I waved, but now I do the same as him. I think it'd be better if he'd avoided me, then I would never have to see him and it would all be much better.
It's very hard not to
miss him want to go up and slap him.
The girls are putting nail polish on each other. Maria is showing them how, because all of a sudden she is Miss I Know All Things Beautyish. Brianne keeps looking over at me like she wants me to join them-- I wish she would just invite me. I'm actually not sure where Mallory is-- probably in the Common Room, finishing the essay Professor Snape set for us last lesson. And Priscilla's just given me another note, tied to Lollipop's collar.
I wish Maria would let you come and play with us. She won't, you know. She says you might do an Unforgivable on one of us. I have my doubts about that. Of course, if you'd wanted to do it, you'd already have done it, wouldn't you? I'm so very glad we're becoming friends.
She's mad. She gives me all of these notes and such, but she never says a word to me in the corridors, or during classes, or anywhere.
Friends? She doesn't act like we're friends. Even Millicent Bulstrode (a Slytherin sixth year that lives down the street from us, and who sometimes comes round to our house) is a better friend than she is. I said I liked her, I never said we were friends. Then again, I'm not really in a position to refuse friendships, am I?
I will be very careful today. I'm so very lucky neither Lollipop or Emmy are black. Perhaps because I'm a witch, I'm immune to thirteenness.
I finished Hot in Hogsmeade. I tried to give it back to Maria, but she acted like I wasn't there. Wonderful, beautiful, absolutely bloody lovely.
Was it just me, or when the Sorting Hat was singing its song, did it sing "Hufflepuff took the ones who were loyal and just, she didn't care to have the smartest or the best" (which doesn't rhyme, but it sounded good to me)? Because I thought Hufflepuffs were generally nice, and fair, and loyal, and all of that! Well, perhaps the majority are, but-- what was her name?-- Beth Rekin (Reeking) definitely wasn't.
She's the one that's been sending me letters! That's the reason I never actually saw
Prissy Priscilla give them to me!
Beth Rekin has been sending me letters because she thought I would ask Priscilla about it and humiliate myself. And she thought correctly. I did just that at breakfast this morning.
I usually sit by myself at the end of the table, near the entrance doors. But today I sat where I used to, next to Maria, Brianne, and Priscilla (Mallory was off with a second-year boy who is her new best friend). I decided to be blunt when bringing up the letters.
"Priscilla, why do you keep giving me notes?"
Priscilla and the other two girls had hardly noticed when I'd sat down (well, Brianne did, and she gave me a very small smile. She and her sister are the only ones still nice to me), so when I said that, they both sort of jumped.
"What?" said Priscilla, very politely. Now that I think about it, she really did have no idea what I was talking about.
And yet I went on. "You know what I'm talking about. The notes, the ones you keep leaving on my bed."
"I've not been leaving any notes on your bed, Eris. I think you've gone mad."
"I have not! You keep leaving notes on my bed about your Mum being a Death Eater, and your sister being a Slytherin!" Not the smartest thing to say, obviously.
Priscilla's face turned very, very pale. "I haven't been leaving notes on your bed. Especially not about stuff like that." She said this like she was trying to keep from shouting at me. Even so, her voice was still shaky.
Beth Rekin (of dung) and her little fourth year friends were watching and listening to Priscilla's and mine chat. They were all giggling annoyingly. Lot of annoying twits.
"She's not the one that's been leavin' notes on yer bed." Beth has a really strong accent, and that's what she sounded like. "It's I that's been doin' it. Good joke, eh?"
"And why would you do something like that?" Beth was obviously one of the Hufflepuffs that had gotten us our reputation of not being very bright. Which isn't, of course, true at all. I've got fair marks, and Brianne's a straight-O student. Beth's idea wasn't exactly the cleverest one I've ever heard. She stood up. You know, she's very short; shorter, even, than me. Her head was level with my mouth, and she stuck a pointy finger into my chest.
"Yer bloody Death Eater friends," hissed Beth, with an alarmingly change of mood in her voice, "Ye know what they did ter me family?"
I shook my head. As if You-Know-Who reveals the names of everyone he kills to me.
"I'll tell ye, then. They comes to me house, 'fore I was e'en born, an' they killed me grandmam an' me sister. I ne'er e'en got ter know 'em."
"I'm really sorry about that, Beth." And I was. Until she continued, that is.
"'Sorry'? It's yer fault!"
Can you believe that? My fault?! My fault! I hadn't been born then, either! "I thought Hufflepuffs were fair, Beth, and that definitely wasn't fair!"
And sodding Beth, who reeks of Hippogriff dung, stepped on my foot and walked out of the Great Hall. She needs a serious duffing.
Maybe I'll get Teddy to do it.
Hurrah. It's Potions class soon. I'm sitting against the dungeon walls, writing. Well, obviously I'm writing, but you know....
I like Potions very much, even though everyone else seems to hate it, and Professor Snape. I can't say I like him much, either, but perhaps that's because he doesn't really go out of his way to do anything nice. He hasn't spoken to me since that comment about my boil cure potion.
Sometimes, he still stares at me. Like a child molester.
But, really, he's not all that bad.
Professor Snape sort of complimented me again today. He was telling the entire class that he didn't expect much out of us, but because there were a few with potential, he'd keep teaching anyway. And then he glanced at me, and said, "And that includes you, Miss Nott, so get to work."
But maybe that's because instead of taking notes I was sort of watching him.
Anyways, it still makes me happy, 'cause it could mean what I think it means. Maybe someday I'll be the prize Potions student! Wouldn't that be lovely?
I can't wait until Christmas hols already.
Last night, Priscilla came and talked to me. She said she was sorry about Beth Reeking and asked if I was really so desperate for friends and if that was the reason I believed Priscilla had been leaving notes on my bed.
I told her that her cat had gotten mine pregnant. Then I told her that she was a twit that couldn't even put lip gloss on correctly, and she left.
Yes, I know that was sort of a mean thing to say, but she hadn't been very nice, either.
I think we need more sports at this school. We've got Quidditch, yes, but Durmstrang's got Swivenhodge, too, and Beauxbatons has got even more. Perhaps I'll start a rebellion against the sportless tyranny of Hogwarts. I'll call it WRESH-- We Require Every Sport Here! I'll make badges! The penguin will be our mascot! It will be a school revolution!
"Or you could just shut your mouth and do your homework." Oh, shut up yourself, brain. You thought of it first.
Daddy's actually sent me a letter. I was rather surprised he even knew I existed. Well, I mean, obviously he did, since-- oh, but you know what I mean, don't you?
I assume you've heard, then, that I am a Death Eater. And it is, indeed, true. But know, my child, my dear Eris, it was for your sake, for yours and Theodore's. The Dark Lord had threatened me and he told me that if I did not join him. then he would kill you, your brother, and your grandmother. Just like he killed your mother. Please forgive me.
Okay. Did my father just write a letter telling that he was a Death Eater? Is it just me, or is that not on?
And-- wait a moment-- did he say You-Know-Who killed my mother? How could he have? She died nine years ago, and You-Know-Who was gone then, wasn't he? Nana had always said she died--
In a broomstick accident. Now that I think about it, that has got to be the stupidest reason, ever. I'd ask Theodore, but... I did, once, a year ago. And I think I made him cry. He slammed the door in my face and shouted at me to go away.
So I tried to punish myself for not finishing my Charms homework by pointing and lecturing myself in the mirror, and I was quite frightened out of my socks when it talked back to me. At home, only Nana's mirror is charmed to do that, so I'm not used to it.
Yesterday, I sort of talked to Teddy. Well, I sent him another note at breakfast time.
It's your sister, Eris. Do you remember your sister? I don't think you do, because you never talk to me anymore. I think you're a bloody mean prat, but I have to ask you something, anyway.
Did Daddy write you a letter, too? Was it just me, or did it seem a little weird? I mean, he said Mum was killed by You-Know-Who, and not in a broomstick accident. That's not true. Is it?
I didn't expect him to reply, and I was right
But it was really scary when he saw me in the hallway, when I was on the way to Defence Against the Dark Arts. He didn't look right through me, like he usually does, but he sort of-- looked at me like he was sizing me up or pitying me. I don't know why it was so scary, but it was... It made me feel cold.
I've decided that the best possible way to avoid everyone is to stay in the library. Except that Madam Pince is... well, she's like a tiny doll that never stops shushing at you. That's what she reminds me of. And when I think of that, it makes me laugh more, and then she shushes me more.
I was looking in the Herbology and Potions section, so I could do my homework for Snape, about dittany, and I found a very cool book. It's called Magical and Uncommon Plantes and Their Use in Historical Potionmaking. Okay, so it's sounds boring and useless, and by saying that it's cool, I make myself sound like a total swot, but it is very cool.
Like the title says, it's about the history of herbology and all that... but what's best about it is the potions. There've been so many potions important in history, and sometimes the recipes for the potions are in the book. The best one.... A long time ago--well, not that long ago, but still-- Grindewald used a potion to get people to be his friends, so he could bewitch them to become his allies. He would invite important people from the Ministry and feed them this potion, and they'd all be bewitched to follow all of his orders, and do anything he wanted.
They have that recipe in there, too. I'd copy it down, but the Shushing Doll has gotten a Shooing addendum, and she's shooing me out of the library right now, because it's almost 8:00 and that's when first years have to be in their common rooms.
I'm so bored. And I have nobody to pass notes with.
Once there was a little girl and her name was Kira. She had beautiful blond hair and blue eyes and she liked to dance. When she danced, everybody stopped to watch her.
Oh, bloody hell. I'm so bored I'm writing a story about a girl who likes to dance. It's all Binns's fault, of course. He's putting me to sleep. It's raining outside, and the drops are running down the window.... Oh, yawn....
So Hufflepuff lost the Gobstones match. If they had had me playing, then that wouldn't have happened, would it have? But Wayne won't admit that my team is the best, will he? No, he just keeps being an idiotic prat. Stupid boy.
I sat in the Great Hall and watched Professors Hagrid and Flitwick put up the Hallowe'en decorations. It looks very pretty now-- there are jack 'o' lanterns hanging over the House tables, and Professor Hagrid has got these massive pumpkins taller than me and almost as big around as Professor Hagrid himself.
I got a sixty-seven percent on my Defence Against the Dark Arts homework, which reminds me that I haven't said anything about Professor Brinkerhoff, and if someone happens to kidnap me and happens to be reading my journal, then they might be interested in her. Because that's what she is. Veeery interesting (and annoying).
She's short, she's really pretty... and that makes her rather scarier. She's got a loud, high-pitched voice that can carry on for miles. Her favorite saying is "Bent u gek?" which she yells shrilly every time she catches somebody talking or passing notes. She's Dutch, so her accent adds to the irritability of her voice. She doesn't like me, she makes that clear. She likes to give me bad marks on my homework. I don't know why. She likes to wear bright pink robes with a white flower pinned to them, and her shoes make her a foot taller. I overheard Maria telling the rest of the girls in the dorm that Professor Brinkerhoff goes to Hogsmeade every weekend to get a manicure, which I completely believe since on the first day of term, we were being too loud, and she scraped them against the blackboard to get our attention. It worked, I can tell you. She's terrifying.
When she gave me back my homework today, she asked me how I ever expected to be completely safe if I couldn't even bother to do my homework correctly. I wonder how homework's going to help me when You-Know-Who is pointing his wand at me (why the bloody hell does he have a wand, anyway?). Maybe homework is some kind of special shield.
I doubt it, however.
When I went to the library today, I remembered Magical and Uncommon Plantes and Their Use in Historical Potionamaking. I went looking for it in the Herbology section again, but it wasn't there, so I asked Madam Pince if someone had checked it out. And do you know what she did? She looked at me as if I had broken some rule and said very coldly, "That book was put in the Restricted Section."
The Restricted Section! Now how will I ever be able to check it out? I don't do well enough in any of my classes, nor do any of my teachers like me well enough, to get permission into the Restricted Section! Stupid Restricted Section, and stupid Madam Pince with her stupid Restricted Section rules.... If it was a RS book, then how come it wasn't there?
Oh. I asked her, and she said, "A librarian has difficult work! I'm sorry if I've only just classified that book! Now, if you please, Miss Nott, leave me alone!"
I've just gotten a very curious letter. It was written in a kind of handwriting that makes you think of medieval times and it made me shiver like I had when Teddy had looked at me that way, except I wasn't thinking of the time I had gotten a gumball stuck up my nose.
We are aware of your family's background and we wish to make an once-in-a-lifetime offer. On Halloween, the YDES will be having its first-ever meeting. Given your history, we would like to invite you to meet us at one AM Hallowe'en morning, across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor. We expect to see you there. This invitation is an act of utmost trust. If you rat... we will find out.
The YDES, huh? Sounds like a rip-off of the YWS to me... "Y" probably stands for "young" and "S" probably stands for "society." I wonder what "D" and "E" stand for, though.
Unless they stand for what I hope they don't.... The YDES.... Is it the Young Death Eater's Society? Is it a society made up of students who plan to follow You-Know-Who after school ends? And they're inviting me? Apparently because of my "history" and "family background." Because Daddy's a Death Eater, too.
And what do they mean, if I rat, they will find out? What a lot of idiots, trying to scare me. Please.
But maybe I should. Rat, I mean. Well, not rat, but surely I should tell Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor Snape or someone?
I've just gotten another note. From my brother.
DO NOT GO TO THE YDES MEETING. They're bad news, Eris. I know, believe me. Please, don't join them.
Oh, I see how it is. He doesn't have to speak to me, but he can still boss me around. I don't care what Teddy says. He probably doesn't want me to go because he'll be there and he doesn't want to see me (I hope not). I don't care what he says, I'm going anyways.
It's tonight. The meeting... it's tonight. I think I want to go. Of course I do. What if it's just Teddy or someone testing me to see if I've got any guts? I have to go. I have to prove to Teddy that I'm not a traitor. Don't I?
I wasn't able to pay attention in any of my classes. I'm nervous. Very very nervous. I think I'll go to sleep now. Wait, no, I can't go to sleep. Fine, then. I'll stay here in the Common Room and study. (Doesn't that sound fun?)
Bloody hell. It's time. Bloody hell. I don't know why I'm going if I'm so nervous... but I have this feeling that I just have to.
Later. Much, much later.
I am such a sodding idiot. I didn't go to the meeting-- I saw a few people I recognized heading that way-- but I went to Headmaster Dumbledore's office instead. I didn't know they were being serious when they said they'd know when I told on them... they do know, and it's scary, because I don't know what they'll do.... And I don't know if they'll find out....
I'm here in the Hospital Wing. It's been sort of funny, because Madame Pomfrey won't let anyone else in. Not even people who are actually hurt, she just does her spell or whatever and then she shoos them away. She's been trying to look up something to get rid of my jinx, but she hasn't found anything yet.
It's horrible. Whoever sent me the note jinxed it so I wouldn't tell, and obviously that's what I did.... I've got these great, horrible, rainbow-colored blisters all over my face, and they hurt. Brianne actually told me about them, because I didn't even notice. (She talked to me!) I came straight here.
Okay, I'll stop stalling, and I'll tell you (even if you're imaginary) about last night.
So, I was going to go last night. At 12:30 last night, I put on my cloak and I got ready to go-- and Priscilla came down. Prissy, of all people. I hid, so she wouldn't see me (which she didn't), and she looked around like she was checking nobody could see her, and then she climbed up the stairs, and out of the common room. I knew she would be accepted-- even if the last two letters hadn't been from her, the first one, from when Teddy first began hating me was from her. In that letter, she told me her sister and mother were Slytherins (even though my mother was a Slytherin, and I'm sure she didn't have a "family background" or "history" that would get her into the YDES).
So I followed Priscilla out of the Hufflepuff Cellar, and she was going to the seventh floor. I suddenly didn't want to be at the meeting, so I turned around and went straight to the headmaster's.
It was very frightening. I mean, this was Dumbledore, do you have any idea how much he's done? I have his chocolate frog card, for goodness' sake! But I went to go see him, which was difficult because I had no idea where he was-- I met Professor McGonagall in the corridors. I know I was up very late, but I have no idea why she was. She looked extremely angry to see me. "What are you doing here, Miss Nott?" she asked me.
"Please, Professor, I must see Headmaster--"
"Absolutely not! Twenty-five points from Hufflepuff for being in the corridors much, much too late after curfew--"
"But, professor, this is extremely important! This is about Death Eaters, and You-Know-Who--"
"He's asleep, Miss Nott. You may tell him in the morning."
And then I turned around and gave up. Well, it's the truth. I did, however, go back early this morning. I went straight to the gargoyle, which was where I met Professor McGonagall, and Headmaster Dumbledore was just coming out to breakfast. He stopped and smiled at me, and invited me into his office. It was the loveliest office I've ever seen-- it was covered in red and gold (I suppose that makes sense, since Headmaster was a Gryffindor) and in it was a million different kinds of trinkets. When I finally got over the loveliness of the office, our conversation went like this:
"Hello, Miss Nott. What a beautiful morning it is, isn't it? Professor McGonagall informed me that you have news for me. Do you wish to tell me?"
"Erm, yes... well... a couple of days ago, I got a very curious note."
"And what did this note say?"
"Well, it was more of an invitation, really...."
"What did it say?"
"It was from someone from a club called the 'YDES,' and I realized that stood for 'Young Death Eaters Society'-- which is really just a rip-off of the YWS. They invited me to join their club."
"And did you accept?"
"No. Actually, I went to-- where they had planned to meet-- but instead I came here to tell you, but you were asleep, so I couldn't. I think the YDES is trying to overthrow you."
"And why would you think that?"
"Because... well, they're wannabe Death Eaters, and isn't that the dream of every Death Eater?" Smart move, Eris. But I don't think Headmaster really noticed.
"You have experience with Death Eaters, don't you, Miss Nott?"
"Well-- erm-- yes, I suppose...." Another not-so-brilliant move. I still can't believe I almost told him my father's a Death Eater.
He nodded and looked at me like he was studying. I just sat there until he smiled at me again. "Thank you very much, Miss Nott. You may go."
That was it, and I've got these massive blisters to show for it. Bloody YDES.
I don't know how I'll go to any of my classes today. Because these things hurt, and anyways, imagine going to class with great multi-colored spots all over your face. Or Gobstones club later. Please, Madam Pomfrey, find an antidote soon....