Chapter 36: Not So Pretty in Pink
The end of summer rushed in like the returning tide, tumbling students and parents down the aisles of Diagon Alley like fleeing crabs on the shoreline of some distant beach. Students rushed to and fro each store, scooping up school supplies, and moving on to the next place to do the same.
First years bumped into elder students. Parents bumped into other parents. Baffled Muggles met "pure-bloods" and social orders were discovered, made, remade, and cast aside accordingly. It seemed though, at least to those who had experienced the years before, that there was more tolerance in the student body in inducting the first year students into their roles as students at Hogwarts.
Scary headlines were making it difficult to not sneeze and have a Death Eater be blamed only to have some Ministry official pop out of a flowerpot and proclaim, "We have it all under control, citizens! Go back to your wool gathering!"
One headline, however, caused a murmur of gossip to graduate into a full-blooded roar.
Dementors Search Muggle Subdivision and Attack Family! Victims Left Traumatized By "Invisible" Attackers!
Dementors were the questionable tools of the Ministry ever since they almost sucked the soul out of an innocent man. Anything that seemed to indicate that the dementors were not under the Ministry's control was lighting a fire where the Ministry did not want fire burning. Sadly, if they did get everyone to believe that all the dementors were under control, then they had to explain to countless people why said dementors just "took a stroll away from Azkaban to drop in for tea in a Muggle subdivision."
"It was like all the happiness in my life was leaving me!" a Muggle testified to one of our undercover Wizarding reporters. "All that was left was every miserable thing I didn't want to remember. The air was so cold, the windows of the house frosted over."
"I woke up in the hospital and no one could tell me how I got here," another victim of the same house said. "I just remember it being as cold as winter."
Thankfully, no other families were affected and no lasting physical or mental damage has been to the unfortunate Muggle family. The Ministry refuses to comment on the matter other than to say that the situation is being looked into and it weren't for the lunatic ravings of madmen such as ex-Auror Alastor Moody and supporters such as Albus Dumbledore, they wouldn't be distracted chasing false calls about non-existant Death Eaters and spreading themselves thin in the wrong areas.
Concerned parties, however, are expressing rightful concern that if the Ministry is "too spread out" to know what their dementors are doing that perhaps the problem isn't with ex-Aurors and the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Harry tossed the paper to Ronald as he gave a fitful yawn. "I'm not sure why I read the paper," Harry bemoaned. "Before, it was all a bunch of rubbish because of Rita Skeeter. Now, it's just depressing because people won't believe the truth."
"Most people believe what they want to believe, Harry," Lupin said with his own yawn as he pulled his coat over himself due to the chill by the window. "At least they aren't writing all of that drivel about Sirius every day anymore."
Harry sighed and nodded. "I had a wonderful summer. Part of me wishes I could have stayed having a wonderful summer instead of facing that everyday," he said as he pointed at the rolled up paper.
Hedwig chirped commentary, which unfortunately inspired Pigwidgeon to twitter like he'd gone completely mental in his cage.
Angry hippogriff chirping came from Hermione's hair, and Hermione stirred slightly as she shifted her position on the bench. She was asleep again, however, in a matter of seconds, passed out against Ginny after their marathon sharing session that seemed to compress ninety days and nights of information into twenty minutes. Harry privately wondered if this was some skill unbeknown to males. The price of the skill seemed to be a serious sleep attack afterwards. Neither Ginny or Hermione seemed to mind in the slightest.
"Oi! Pig! Shut it!" Ron rattled the cage as Pigwidgeon fluttered around chattering like he was on fire. "I swear to Merlin I'm going to use you to dust the lights in the Tower, starting with your face!"
Lupin snorted. "I've never seen such a hyper owl, Ron," he chuckled.
"I blame Ginny for naming him Pigwidgeon," Ron muttered.
"Shouldn't you be blaming Sirius for giving you him?" Lupin asked.
"I'm sure he would have been fine if he'd been giving a more dignified name," Ron said with a scowl. "Instead of flying around like he's bloody full of beans all day."
Pigwidgeon fluttered around in his cage, trying to show off, making a racket.
Just as Ron was reaching out to rattle Pig's cage again, Vik slammed into the cage and belted out a series of stern chirps. Pig froze on the bars of his cage, eyes gazing at the hippogriff. Vik took off, darting back into Hermione's hair with a chirp of finality.
"Well, there you go, Ron," Remus said. "That's how it's done."
Pig remained frozen on the side of cage, unwilling to move lest it bring down the wrath of a tiny yet strangely formidable hippogriff.
Ron stared at his owl's cage with a mixture of resignation and fear. "Ever think that if Hermione was born into say… the Malfoy family, that we'd all be under You-know-who's boot?"
Harry gave Ron an odd look. "You're mental."
Ron wobbled and looked upward. "No, really. I mean…" he said as he ruffled his own hair. "I mean, if fate had been different, we'd be fighting against her and Malfoy and… and Snape… and Vol… well him… all at the same time. If she can put that much detail and the fear of Merlin into that little flying menace, imagine what she could do if she wanted to hurt someone."
Remus arched a brow at Ron as one would perhaps look at a rabbit that meowed. "Do you always include your friends, peers, and your teachers on the same list of potential enemies?"
Harry shoved Ron in the side with his toe. "Why would you even think about that, Ron? She's our friend, not some stranger that fell off a cloud and landed in the cabbage patch with nothing but a hat and a howdy-do."
It was Ron's turn to look at Harry like he'd completely lost his mind.
Harry tilted his head to the side. "What?"
"Someone has been spending too much time with an inebriated Sirius," Remus guessed.
Harry's attempt to look innocent was a fine attempt, but fell flat on its face. He sighed. "I'm just saying, Ron, there are far more dodgy individuals out there than Hermione, and you know it."
"I'm not saying she isn't trustworthy now," Ron tried again. "I'm saying, have you ever wondered what it would be like if things had been different? What is Snape was our Head of House instead of McGonagall? Or… Tom Riddle was Headmaster and Dumbledore was the one fighting against us?"
Harry shook his head. "Sirius says I need to stop blaming Snape for the bad things that keep happening," he confessed.
"I thought he hated Snape," Ron said with a furrowed brow.
"I did too," Harry admitted. "But, Sirius said that it took him over thirty years to realize what a hypocrite he was when he was my age, and he doesn't want it to be my story."
"We did some horrible things at your age, Harry," Remus said grimly. "Things that we can look back on now and not be proud of. All of us were guilty of it."
"Even my father?" Harry said, hoping that Remus would immediately say no and defend him.
"Even your father, Harry," Remus said. "I have no doubt, if he were here now, he would tell you the same."
Harry hung his head. His mental image of his father was always a great man: someone to be proud of and someone he could be proud of.
"Harry," Remus said gently. "We are all fallible people. Even the best of us. Sometimes we do things we're not proud of. Sometimes we feed the dark in us, but if we are lucky we find all the right reasons to feed the light in us instead. Your parents loved you very much. You were their reason to feed the light."
Harry smiled and nodded, regaining his high regard for his father, but with a little more realism thrown in.
The train compartment became suddenly cold, as if they had just opened a door into a blizzard. Harry, Ron, and Remus stiffened, eyes darting to the windows as they watched the windows growing cold. Their breath was puffing out in wisps of white vapor.
SPLAT!
A snowball slammed into the train compartment door as two students chased each other down the train's outer walkway laughing and pelting each other with snowballs.
Remus relaxed, letting out a soft, relieved chuckle. "A little hair triggered, I think," he admitted.
Harry leaned back on the seat and inhaled deeply. "Yeah. Me too."
Ron took that moment to devour the chocolate frog he had been clutching in a death grip. "Think we have a chance at having a nice uneventful year at Hogwarts this year?"
Harry rolled his head to the side to stare at Ron. "I don't think it's even possible."
"Aw, come on, Harry," Ron complained. "What could possibly happen this year after the years we've had already?"
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"Me and my big mouth," Ron moaned as the woman Dumbledore had introduced as "Professor Umbridge" not only interrupted Dumbledore's traditional speech and announcements at the front of the Great Hall, but also proceeded to but the majority of the Hall to sleep or to tears. Some may have argued the both were occurring simultaneously.
Hermione had a completely blank look plastered across her face, her eyes were dark and unreadable as she stared at Umbridge during her speech.
"I wonder what happened to Professor Moody," Harry muttered. "I would have liked to have gotten to know the real one."
"She looks she walked off my Gran's cast-off not-on-your-life fashion pile," Neville whispered.
"That much pink should be criminal," Fred and George muttered together.
After what seemed like an eternity, Umbridge seemed to be satisfied with her speech and concluded it. There was some applause, but it seemed far more obligatory than actual approval. Even the professors at the High Table looked as though stabbing each other with their cutlery would have been a better use of the time they had just lost.
"For once, I think I agree with Snape," Neville said, casting his eyes down.
Harry, Ron, and the twins looked up to the High Table where Snape was giving Umbridge's back the kind of glare that curled paint, wilted flowers, and sent students hiding under their desks.
"Just don't… tell him I said that," Neville muttered, taking a big swig of the pumpkin juice in front of him.
"No problem there, Neville," Harry agreed.
"I wonder what this means for Hogwarts?" Seamus asked softly.
"The Ministry is trying to interfere with Hogwarts," Hermione said flatly, her eyes were still glued to the toad-like woman at the High Table. "It means we're being watched.
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"You need to be extra careful now, Hermione," Minerva said as she offered up some biscuits. "More careful than before, I believe you know that."
Hermione took the cookie from the tin and nodded before making the tasty treat disappear.
"Umbridge is positively medieval," Minerva said. "She's of the opinion that education is to be done by the book and children are to be seen and not heard. I'm sure, if it were not for the fact she herself was female, she would support that only wizards were deserving of educations and witches belonged at home, tending families."
"She doesn't seem the type to be happy in a family setting," Hermione said dryly, channeling her Master in both tone and expression.
Minerva gave a small smile. "You would be correct. Please, Hermione, do your best to keep any of the students from getting on her… well all her sides are bad… spite list. She could make things much more difficult for us here."
Hermione took in her breath and held it a moment before releasing. "I will try, Minerva."
Minerva seemed to let out her breath she was holding for the past hour. "Good.
Hermione yawned and drew her hand over her mouth apologetically. "Sorry."
"Quite all right, dear," Minerva tutted. "It is time for bed anyway."
Hermione rose from the chair, thanking Minerva for the cookies before turning to exit.
"Hermione," Minerva called after her.
"Yes, Minerva?"
"Just because you cannot officially be up in her face, doesn't mean you can't… make things interesting," Minerva's head moved very much like a cat watching a bug on the wall.
Hermione gave Minerva her best halo look. "Professor McGonagall!" she exclaimed in mock-affront. "Who would do such a thing?"
Minerva smiled as Hermione shuffled out her door on her way back to the Gryffindor tower. "Who indeed," she said quietly.
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A/N: So sleepy. Have to goto class... rirrhghghfhfhfhfffff *thud*zzzzzzz *bolts out door flailing arms wildly* AHHHHHHHH (why can't I be sleepy when it's time to goto BED!) I need my own little Vik.