Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, and followed since last week! Though a review or two would be really nice ;)
Please enjoy the new chapter!

In My Head

The next weeks continued without much of a change. Umbridge still did not let us practice magic and on my rounds as prefect, I ran into Potter at least three times when the trod back from detention. Each time we met, his hand was bleeding more profusely.

When the Slytherins had heard of her methods, they had been disgusted - though they were a lot more indignant about me than they were about the same thing happening to Potter.
Tracey started shaking with pent-up anger whenever she saw even the slightest hint of pink and Blaise had sworn to jinx Umbridge in the practical exam. At that point, it was still almost a year away, but I did not doubt he would remember. (And he did not. It cost him his 'O', but he did hit Umbridge with a Jelly-Legs Jinx.)

"I can write to my father about it," Draco offered.

With any other teacher, this might have been a worthwhile tactic. "She's a Ministry official," I said. "Let's keep your father in Fudge's good graces, shall we?"

Even without her treatment of me, though, everybody hated her. All she did was make us read chapter after chapter of the terrible book, which was Both boring and infuriating - I would not even torture my worst enemy with that book, and even you probably would not.
It made everyone wish for another teacher; Pansy Parkinson even went so far as to say she missed Lockhart, who was widely considered to be the worst teacher in the history of Hogwarts.

"If only she did it to the Mudblood," Pansy said, nodding to Hermione Granger as we sat for dinner in the Great Hall.

"Shut your mouth," Blaise said. Neither of us much liked that word - personally, I had never quite understood the need to put Muggleborns down and I thought that the use of it made one look like some uneducated country bumpkin.

"She shouldn't be doing this to anyone," I added when Pansy opened her mouth again, "And watch your tone."

Crabbe and Goyle got detention for eating in class. Daphne Greengrass wore too short a skirt. A girl in sixth year got her hand cut open for giggling a little too loud at one of Umbridge's hair bows.

"I hate her," Tracey said fiercely whenever she could. "Can't you do something?"

I shook my head. "Not yet," I said.
As much as I wanted to strangle the woman every time I saw her, it was not time yet. It would quite possibly not be time for a good long while. We could only act when there was a chance to remove her for good - as of now, any action would only serve to get us expelled.

Did you read the Daily Prophet during that year? Did you check for news about yourself - and about Hogwarts? I sure did, though, of course, my subscription was paid for by Blaise's mother due to my own debilitating poverty. I sort of hope that you did, for if you did, you read the same thing I did on one rainy November morning.

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM - DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR

I pushed the paper over to Blaise and the mug he held cracked in his hand and spilled tea over him. As he cursed, Tracey hurried over to read over his shoulder.

"In a surprise move last night, the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They're kidding, right?" she muttered.

"I'm afraid not," I said, scanning the article yet again. It claimed the Minister was worried about proceedings at Hogwarts. Truth was, the Minister was afraid of Dumbledore and for his own position. I just could not believe that he would risk the education of an entire generation on such pettiness.

"High Inquisitor?" Draco drawled, holding his own copy of the paper. "What does that even mean?"

As it turned out, it meant that she now got to hand out 'educational degrees' with ridiculous new school rules - we had reached a dozen before the first week was out - and that she got to inspect the other teachers' lessons.

We first got to experience this in History of Magic - and she did not seem very pleased with what she saw. Professor Binns did not even greet her and after ten minutes of clearing her throat (hm-hm! hm-hm!, like a bird with a cold) called her 'Miss Umblington' and told her to please ask questions after class. She did not try again.
(She did, however, try to interrogate him after class with a questionnaire on a clipboard. He floated through his chair.)

She targeted Ancient Runes next, but had very little to hm-hm about. There was a rumour that she had inspected Divination, though, and had practically fired Professor Trelawney already.
Curiously, everybody disliked Trelawney but suddenly wished that she would stay. Even Milicent Bulstrode, who had been told over and over again by the woman that she would die a lonely spinster, claimed that Umbridge was not half the teacher Trelawney was and that she should better kick herself out.

Next I experienced her was in Care for Magical Creatures. It was a class that I had always regretted taking.
You do remember Hagrid, don't you? You had a hand in getting him expelled from school; and yet he remained on the grounds forever, taking the job of Ground Keeper. Perhaps Dumbledore felt sorry for him, or perhaps he had another reason, but he did give him a teacher's position in my third year and so the man you had robbed of his magical career became my teacher and taught me about flobberworms and Blast-Ended Skrewts.. It was, all in all, a terrible experience.

That year, though, was different, for Hagrid had not returned from the holidays and was replaced by a woman named Grubbly-Plank, who wore a stern expression but was a much better teacher.

Umbridge was already standing beside her when Tracey and I arrived for class, accompanied by Draco and his usual entourage.
Draco had once been attacked by a Hippogriff in class - due to his own stupidity, mind you - and it had caused quite the stir. I never understood why he insisted on keeping the class, especially since he kept finding reasons that Hagrid was the worst.

"The headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information on the matter," Umbridge just chirped. "Can you tell me what is causing Professor Hagrid's very extended leave of absence?"

Professor Grubbly-Plank did clearly not know and did not seem to care about Hagrid's whereabouts or his return. Instead, she swiftly got started on the lesson while Umbridge swept through the crowd and started questioning us on magical creatures.

I nudged Draco in the ribs.

"I know you fancy yourself a story-teller," I said. "But none of that today."

Draco had spent the last year giving warped information to very shady Daily-Prophet reporters.
He had the look of a petulant child. "Why?"

"Because we hate Umbridge, right?" I answered, lowering my voice even more. "And we don't get in league with people we hate."

Meanwhile, Professor Grubbly-Plank was explaining to said person we hated that she indeed did not have any complaints about Dumbledore, no matter how much Umbridge prodded.

Personally, I never much cared for Dumbledore, as did you - you also know that I thought him quite dangerous and entirely unfit to run the school as I imagined it should have been run; but in that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride that Grubby-Plank, substitute as she was, would stand with him.

Outsiders always think that Slytherins are quick to betray even their closest friends; they have no idea of the fierce loyalty we feel for our own. Against Umbridge, even the most unpopular part of Hogwarts counted as our own.

Unsatisfied with the teacher's answer, Umbridge rounded on the students again. "Now," she said to Gregory Goyle. "I hear there have been injuries in this class?"

"That was me!" Draco piped up and my nails dug deep into the skin of my palms. "I was-"

A flick of my wand rendered him mute. He opened and closed his mouth without a sound escaping, like a stranded fish, the Silencio charm effortlessly effective.

"Dear?" Umbridge inquired. "What is it you were saying?"

His ears now turning red, Draco turned to look at me; perhaps hoping that I would release the charm.

"He's been bitten by a flobberworm," I said, to which Draco gesticulated wildly. "All over the Prophet, it was."

Umbridge looked like she was about ready to explode. She could not have heard my charm - I had practiced silent spell casting for the past year and had quickly become good at it; and she had stood with her back to me.
I was ready to argue to death if she were to give me detention, but she instead swiftly turned to Draco and said, "Sonorus!"

Draco cleared his throat, finding his voice to have returned.

"Mr Malfoy?" Umbridge prompted.

"Uh," he said and his eyes quickly darted to me. "She was right. Bitten by a flobberworm."

"They don't even have teeth!" Umbridge snapped.

There was nothing she could do. Draco merely shrugged and, his tale of the vicious flobberworm complete, Umbridge had no other choice but to turn to Professor Grubbly-Plank and end her inspection.

I rounded on Draco for this particular bit of insubordination, but held up his hands in surrender. "Potter's watching," he said. "So spare me the lecture."

He was right. We were under the Gryffindors' scrutiny, though it seemed less malicious than usual. When our eyes met, Potter sharply nodded at me - a mere greeting, or perhaps even a thanks.

"You'd deserve it," I answered Draco, though my eyes wandered on to Hermione Granger. "No more stunts like this."

Here is another thing I had practiced the year before: Legilimency. It had been years since I had first discovered that on occasion, the voices in my head were not just my own - but only in fourth year had one of the books I used for advanced studying given a proper name to it.

From the moment I knew what it was, I studied it - the way I studied most things, more with intuition and feeling rather than by a textbook.

Hermione Granger was one of my favourite test subjects, mostly because it enhanced not only my mind-reading skills but often offered additional information on whatever subject she was currently studying herself.

Today, there was no academic information, but her contemplating expression still intrigued me. The idea in her head was still forming, not quite of the sharpness that I was used to from her - but it sparked something inside me, too.

What an idea! Rebellious, perhaps a little bit too rebellious for a Slytherin - yet I did not really have a family to embarrass, did I?
I keep thinking how I would have loved nothing more than to have that little bit of normality - just once to get a Howler saying how I was a disgrace to the family and how I would get disowned if I did not put things right again. A strange thing to wish for, is it not? I have a feeling you might know why I longed for it.

However, that was all besides the point; I had learnt of Granger's idea and Slytherins did have a knack for rule breaking, after all.
For the next week or so, I kept scanning her mind and watched as the idea developed a more clear-cut form.

It was simple but efficient: to set up a group of students, to practice the defensive spells that we did not get to learn in class - and, perhaps the best part of it all, to have Potter be the teacher.

I'm not sure if you understand my fascination, but the thought of duelling Potter, even in good fun... perhaps that was what pulled me in, after all. Maybe I just wanted to see if I was better than you.

She wanted to set it all up on the first Hogsmeade weekend, though for the longest time, she did not even tell Potter of her idea - I could tell when she had, because Potter now gave off a mixture of nerves and sheer frustration.

I passed him in the Entrance Hall just two days before the first Hogsmeade trip.

"Hey Potter!"

He froze and stiffly turned to look at me. "What do you want?"

"Why so rude?" I asked lightly, motioning for him to move on, towards the Great Hall were we would not be overheard through the chatter of the other students. "Listen, I overheard your friend Granger, she's inviting people to the Hog's Head-"

Behind his glasses, his eyes widened in terror. "How did you hear?"

"Relax," I chastised. "No one else knows."

He did not seem convinced, but I could not very well tell him that I spent my time rummaging through other people's heads.

"Anyway," I said to get back on track. "I want in."

Potter choked slightly on his next words. "No. Absolutely not."

"Yes," I reiterated.

"You're a Slytherin," he said. "The Slytherin, we can't trust you-"

Flatterin as his assessment was, I could not let it stand. "You really can," I said. "There's nothing that builds better friendships than a mutual enemy. You hate Umridge, I hate Umbridge. We're on the same side."

He ran a hand through his already messy hair, more pulling it out than anything else. "No," he finally repeated. "You are the enemy."

"Not right now," I said. Glancing over to the Slytherin table, I found quite a few of my housemates watching the exchange between us with suspicion - undoubtedly, the situation would be much the same on the Gryffindor table.

I sighed, squared my shoulders and nodded to Potter, who was still glaring back at me. "I'll see you in Hogsmeade."

Leave a comment if you can spare the time ;) Thanks!