Chapter Ten

"Can't I have one day where I don't have to worry about the loads of homework I have to do?" Ron complained the next day after a particularly grueling Transfiguration lesson. Harry and Hermione stood waiting as he shoved his books inside his bag. "Honestly, Harry, one day you're gonna wake up and I'll have died in my sleep because all these assignments are killing me."

"Maybe you wouldn't worry so much if you did your homework on time," Hermione's voice was muffled by her robe as she rummaged through her schoolbag. Ron shot her a look. They left the classroom and entered the hall, setting out for the Gryffindor common room to put away their things before going to dinner.

"It's been years and I still don't understand how you manage with that load of classes you take," Ron said, shaking his head.

"I manage because I know how to use my time wisely," she snapped at him crossly. "I don't shove everything off until the night before it's due."

"Well…that gives the full experience," Ron protested, blushing. Hermione rolled her eyes.

At the Fat Lady's portrait they ran into Parvati Patil, who was in the worst of moods. She had her arms crossed and appeared on the verge of tears.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked her.

"Got a detention," she said angrily, too upset to meet their eyes. "I ran across Umbridge on my way here and she's out for blood, I only bumped into Neville on accident, neither of us were looking, and she gave us both detention for 'inappropriate touching'!"

"That's a load of tripe," Ron said, gaping.

"According to her it isn't," Parvati snapped. "The old toad told us we wouldn't have gotten the detention if we had kept track of all her stupid decrees, like anyone's got the patience OR memory for that..."

"Why are you out here?" Hermione asked.

"Oh! It's a good thing you're here," Parvati said, letting out a dry laugh, "to top it all off I forgot the new password."

"It's 'phoenix'."

"In you go," said the Fat Lady, and they climbed through.

"I'd better hurry," Parvati said gloomily, "the detention's after dinner." She left towards the girls' dormitories.

Alone again, the three of them silently dumped their bags in the coziest unoccupied corner and left immediately, not wanting to be late to the meal. The other students they passed in the corridors were grave-faced and silent, even the light itself in the school seemed more dim. Once or twice Hermione or Ron tried to start a conversation to lighten the mood but could not bring themselves to do it. Harry didn't seem to notice, something else occupied his mind. Neither of them had to guess what it could be-ever since Umbridge had taken him off the Gryffindor Quidditch team he'd been restless and quiet, if not sometimes hostile.

Lee-Jordan passed them by, scowling and clutching at his hand. Droplets of blood trickled through his fingers. Hermione reached into her pocket, ran after him, pressed something into his hand, whispered something in his ear and rejoined the others.

"What was that?" Ron asked her.

"Essence of Dittany," she whispered back after a quick scan of the space around them. "I've always got a bottle or two on me now, so many people are getting detentions lately." She frowned. "Umbridge is very keen on giving anyone detentions for any reason-it helps to be prepared."

"What did you tell him?"

"To find Parvati and Neville later and pass the bottle to them," she replied as they entered the great hall.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened at dinner, other than Hermione observing that Malfoy was not there, which lifted her mood a little. Dinner was usually the best meal of the day-not quite because of the food but by grace of it being had by the end of the day everyone was usually content to talk about their day and look forward to going to bed, but there was no chance of liveliness now. Except for the click and clatter of the eating utensils and a cough or a sneeze here and there, everyone ate in a sullen silence. To make matters worse, Umbridge watched them closely from her seat throughout the hour, and by the end they were all extremely uncomfortable and wary and somewhat cross.

"I don't think I was able to taste any of that since she kept staring at us," Ron said, rubbing his stomach as everyone began to stand from their tables to take leave. Oddly, Umbridge had not given one of her pathetic and long-winding speeches. This would have been a cause for celebration any other day but by the way she was eying them now Harry supposed it was nothing worth gloating over and it only added to his bad mood.

Neville approached them, looking fretful. The thing about Neville was that he always had a bit of a worried look on his face due to his nervous disposition but at this moment it was tinged with panic and Harry wished he hadn't seen him at all. Thinking about his impending detention made him feel quilty, somehow. By then he had reached them and had opened his mouth but the second he saw Hermione, he started and took two long steps back, looking wildly around him. Harry and Ron shared confused looks. Hermione was the only one who had retained knowledge of Umbridge's absurd rule and therefore said nothing.

"Heading to Umbridge's office?" she asked.

"No," he said, evidently surprised they knew about his detention. They relayed to him how they'd found out, and he frowned. "I thought it was tonight, too, but Umbridge just now came up to me and said she'd moved it to Saturday instead."

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.

"Did she say what for?"

"No."

"Blimey," Ron said, looking behind them. "Here she comes now."

"I'd better go, I've got to tell Parvati," Neville said, and scuttled away. Before they could follow suit she had reached them.

As they left the room the other students formed a wide berth around her as they passed, as if afraid to come into contact with her. Umbridge wore her sweetest, most syrupy smile.

Hermione felt Harry tense beside her and clutched his wrist. The Headmistress noticed at once.

"Hem, hem," she said. "This would be the second time today decree number twenty-two has been violated in front of me," she said, smiling more widely. Harry was suddenly reminded of a hideous marionette Dudley had once been given as a boy, with its forced wooden smile. There was a bit of food caught between her teeth. It looked so much like a fly that it was all he could concentrate on.

Umbridge continued on, scribbling something in a little pad of paper none of them noticed she'd been carrying. Her fat fingers completely obscured the short quill she used to write.

"That will be a detention for the two of you. Sunday at five, my office." When she looked back up at them her beady little eyes gleamed with triumph. Hermione let go of Harry's hand at once, burning with shame and anger.

"That's not fair," Ron said loudly. "How does that warrant a detention? It's not like she was strangling him!"

There was a loaded silence. Hermione's hands had gone cold. A bead of sweat trickled down her back.

We're in for it now.

"I will not take the time to explain my reasoning to you, Weasley," the Headmistress said stiffly, "since you have made it clear before that you do not listen. Detention for you as well."

Ron glared at her but said no more.

"Potter, I'd like to speak with you in private," she said brightly, as if the former exchange had not taken place. "Follow me." She waddled through the doors.

Hermione turned to Harry, panic in her eyes. He stared back glumly, as if to say 'what else can I do?'. Ron mouthed to him from behind Umbridge, 'don't drink the tea!'. Harry nodded and left.

The last of the spectators had fled in fear of catching their bad luck. Hermione and Ron watched them go in silence. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and looked down to where Harry and Umbridge had disappeared.

"Should we go after them?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "It's late, and I don't want to run into anyone else."

"Right," Ron mumbled.

"This is all my fault," Hermione moaned, bringing a palm to her forehead. "I wasn't thinking and just grabbed Harry's hand-"

"It was bound to happen one way or another," Ron said dully, "Umbridge's been wanting to get the three of us together in a detention for months."

Hermione shivered. "Maybe we should go back..."

"Not unless you've got the Cloak on you," Ron replied. "Umbridge has got Filch guarding the corridor outside her office. We'd need the map, too."

"Forget it," Hermione said as they reached the Fat Lady and gave her the password. "We're just going to have to wait."

They stepped into the empty common room and paused. The only noise in the room came from the fire in the hearth. Hermione eyed the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

"Let's wait here," she suggested, and Ron nodded.

They grabbed their bags from where they'd stashed them before dinner and dragged them over to the chairs closest to the fire. Ron's bag had been knocked over and the contents had spilled out. A quill and several wrinkled sheets of parchment lay scattered nearby. Cursing, he grabbed them and stuffed them back in haphazardly. Once done he set his bag beside the sofa and sat down beside Hermione, who brought her legs up onto the couch and leaned into him.

"D'you think she'll keep him long?" Ron asked.

Hermione blinked. The heat from the fire was drying her eyes but she was too tired to move away.

"No," she said. "If she's going to make a move I'm sure she's going to wait until Sunday when the three of us are together."

"I hope you've got more of that Dittany," he said, sighing.

Her voice was sad. "Loads."

"I heard Pomfrey's been giving that stuff out now that McGonagall's gone. Neville told me earlier he's been helping her make the stuff from scratch, since supply's running low and Snape isn't allowed to give them the ingredients so they've been getting most of it from Professor Sprout."

"That's brilliant." She could feel the heat from the fire in her hair, her clothing. Her eyes had turned to slits but she could still see Ron, although blurred-the brightest part of him was his hair, a most brilliant red fringed with gold where the firelight hit it. It even highlighted his eyelashes. His bright blue eyes were closing, too and she rested her head against his arm more comfortably, feeling her breaths even out...

When she awoke the first thing she heard was Ron snoring directly into her ear and then the absence of the fire crackling. Sunlight streamed into the common room-she could tell by the way her eyelids glowed gold.

Morning.

She reached out blindly and pushed his face away-he grunted, and slept on.

Her eyes were still dry so she waited a moment before opening them-once she saw who sat opposite them she gave Ron a sharp flick on the nose with her fingers and he awoke with a gasp, blinked, and gave her an astonished look.

"The hell was that for?" He rubbed his nose.

Hermione pointed to Harry. Ron let go of his nose and they rushed towards him at once.

"Morning, mate," Ron shook Harry's shoulder, who awoke instantly. The dark rings under his eyes had grown more prominent. He brushed his hair away from his forehead and stretched.

"What's happened?" he asked, rising out of his seat.

"Nothing," Ron said. "We were going to ask you that, actually."

Hermione returned with a small bowl in her hands and handed it to Harry, who took it immediately and dipped his hand into the mixture. The blood from the cuts had dried overnight-he rubbed at it, wincing. Once it all had cleared away they were able to see the words more clearly.

I must not tell lies.

"It looks worse than before," Hermione said softly.

"The more detentions someone has, the sharper the quills get, apparently," Harry said, dragging his other palm over his face. "Umbridge says that Lee Jordan and I have got the most so far. She said we're close to beating Fred and George's record."

"Merlin," Ron sounded ill. "She makes it sound like some sort of demented race."

"Did she give you the tea?"

"'Course she did," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "The moment she turned her back I dumped half of it into that awful plant beside her desk. Asked me about the DA and Dumbledore, when I said I didn't know about any of it she got right angry but since she thought I was telling the truth she just made me do lines in the end."

"Think that will end it?" Hermione wondered out loud. "Now she has your 'confirmation' that the DA doesn't exist, maybe she'll-"

"I told you," Ron cut in, "nothing's going to stop her. She'd sack the Minister himself if she had the opportunity."

"Let's head down to nick some food from the kitchens," Harry said, wiping the excess dittany from this hand. "I don't want to see Umbridge's face when I walk into the great hall."

They made their way down quickly. Hermione offered Harry a bandage to wrap around his hand.

"What's the point?" he asked. "It's just going to get sliced open again later when we go for our detentions."

They went around the corner, completely unaware of the shadow that had been following them from the Fat Lady's portrait. It lurked in an unlit alcove, waiting for the coast to clear before making a move. All it took was about ten seconds and a flick of his wand and the Disillusionment spell flickered away to reveal a tall blond figure that set off in a great hurry.

Draco wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. Granger had a detention? Since when? And for what? Part of him considered going after them again but this had to be settled at once. He had to know.

Upon reaching Umbridge's door he gave it a sharp knock. She answered from within and he entered.

The Headmistress stood before her desk, doughy fists planted on her desk, her posture that of a king at his grand table, revising a strategy before a battle.

"Is anything the matter, Draco?" she asked, rearranging the sinister sharp quills aligned on her desk. Draco sat down stiffly.

"I just heard from Potter himself that he and Granger have got detentions."

"The Weasley boy, too," she said, turning to pour herself a cup of tea. She offered him one but he shook his head. "After dinner the Muggleborn had the nerve to violate one of my decrees right before my eyes."

Draco frowned. "Which one?"

Umbridge turned, stirring her tea with a gilded spoon. Even the damned teacup had a kitten on it, for Merlin's sake. Draco wondered what her own home looked like and then decided that was something better left untouched .

The Headmistress sat carefully and leaned back, sipping her drink. Draco waited, trying not to let his impatience show.

"Decree number Twenty-Two states boys and girls must maintain a distance of at least two feet and the girl was practically attaching herself to the Potter boy like a parasite," she said, taking another sip.

"And Weasley?"

Umbridge's beady gaze fixed on him. "He made a reference to your-ahem-incident with the Muggleborn girl."

Draco said nothing.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Draco, but I am sure I made it clear to you when I said not to tell anyone about it," she said sternly.

"I've told no one," he said, "and Weasley would be the last person I'd tell anything to."

"I suppose the girl must have told them," Umbridge said, setting the teacup down with a clink. "I hope for your sake they have not told anyone else."

"You told Pansy, though. You ordered her to keep an eye on me," he said, leaning forward. "I am not a child. I don't need supervision. I am in control, and I don't need a nanny."

"I merely instructed her to tell you to watch your temper," she replied calmly, folding her hands over her paunchy stomach. "I assume she followed through?"

Draco spoke between clenched teeth. "Yes."

"Then you have no reason to be angry," she said, smiling her greasy simpering smile again. "Miss Parkinson has passed on my message which I was not able to give to you, since you come so rarely to our meetings."

"I won't have anything to report if I spend all my time at these meetings," he said. "You know I have not been idle in that time."

"I'm sure you haven't, Draco." She looked at him, expectant. "Is there any progress?"

"I'm close to it," he said confidently, leaning forward. "And I've just had an idea."