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"Non-existent. But it is still taught at Durmstrang or Beauxbatons and several other European schools."
"And it's supposed to cheer me up? Assuming I was willing to transfer to a school where I have no friends and I won't be able to speak the language, Beauxbatons is hellishly expensive. Durmstrang will never accept us as their students due to their stupid blood-purity laws."
"Err...it's less blood-purity and more of a means to limit themselves the number of candidates to the upper classes of our society." Corrected Nigel. "That's my father told me anyway."
"Fantastic. Oh, well, nothing we can do about it. Now we have to organise how we plan to train in offensive and defensive spells. Something tells me we aren't going to get good marks in the Defence Against the Dark Arts OWLs otherwise..."
19 February 1993, Hogwarts, Scotland
It was nearly an hour after curfew and Hogwarts was calm. The corridors were cold, deprived of any human life save one or two Prefects and Professors starting their rounds. The torches provided light as their enchantments commanded, but in pure loss as there was no student to lighten the walk.
The Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws had long gone back to the warmth and safety of their Common Rooms in the towers. The Hufflepuffs had done the same on the first floor. And the Slytherins were now sleeping or studying in their own bedrooms in the dungeons.
The gates of the school were closed. Slowly but surely, the teaching staff and the Prefects retired to their private quarters, no threat evidently having manifested on this evening and the first hours of night. A human being, no matter if he or she was a Muggle or a magical, needed a few hours of sleep, leaving only one or two regular patrols for the entire school.
Appearances, alas, could be incredibly deceiving.
In the dungeons, a long forgotten and dusty room having two decades ago served as a Potions laboratory had now found a far more sinister purpose. One the Professors and Headmaster in all certainty wouldn't have approved of if they had been aware of it.
In it, tens students of various ages had gathered. The reason of their presence was a eleventh individual, who was currently delivering a vibrant speech on the stage, not hampered by his or her personal traits being dissimulated under the hood of the Hogwarts winter robes.
"It is time," finished the figure leading the small assembly in front of the ruined blackboard, "that the blood-traitors and the Mudbloods understand their place in our society!"
"Yes!"
"You're right!"
The exclamations had come from Cassius Warrington and Graham Montague, two Slytherin fourth-years well known for their absolute belief in blood-purity. The rest of the Slytherins present were less vocal, but the viciousness and the fanaticism in their eyes gave a clue the affirmations had struck true.
"How many laws have been passed in the last decades destroying our culture? Our traditions? Our right to practise the Old and Sacred Magic?"
"Too many. Bloody too many." Grumbled one of the participants in the audience. Jared Miller, Heir of the Ancient House of Miller had reasons to be as disgruntled as he was. His House since 1945 has lost the 'Most Noble' part of the title thanks to several of their most powerful rituals becoming forbidden, slaying in a single strike their influence and their reputation. Several attempts to redress this fact by amoral means had then sealed their downfall. The wealth he and his relatives owned was a paltry thing compared to what House Miller had owned in the past.
"Too many." Approved the orator in a calmer tone. "Too many and it's time it stops! The Light Houses are growing more and more arrogant with each success and when they will have the opportunity they will push to remove the Dark from the Wizengamot. Every day house search warrants are written under the most ridiculous accusations!"
A very slim teenager with brown hair and dark blue eyes vigorously nodded among the group. Dermot Ardoch, Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Ardoch, had reasons to be furious. A party of sixteen from the Ministry had raided his house two weeks ago, doing significant damage and leaving without an excuse after they didn't find what they had been looking for. Given that Ardoch's uncle had been an enforcer of Lord Voldemort's will in the last war, these raids launched on the tiniest rumour had become a common occurrence at Ardoch Manor. The last episode had left his grandmother bleeding on the ancestral parquet and only the devotion of a House Elf had transported the matriarch of House Ardoch to the hospital of Saint Mungo's in time.
"What is your plan?" Asked Thomson Carrow, Heir of the Noble and Ancient House of Carrow. The sixth-year had become rather infamous in the Snake's Den for his bland participations in 'pranks' against the Muggle-borns, deeds which would have awarded him several weeks of suspension if he had been caught in the act. Thomson was known as cruel and partially insane, a trait which had already been noticed during the last war. The Carrow line had become somewhat infamous for siring the Death Eaters Alecto and Amycus Carrow and Thomson was following in their steps.
"My plan is to force the Board of Governors to dismiss this old fool of Dumbledore with a series of impressive and devastating attacks. Once it's done, we will be able to push for Hogwarts to establish anew a true and proper magical education. The majority will be too fearful of us to make any move against the Dark."
"It could work..." The smile of Lewis Wilkes, last living member of House Wilkes would have made crawl of any sane wizard and witch. "Time to explain these abominations we do not longer tolerate their existence!"
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