In which Ramona is surrounded by fascists
-October 1995-
The DA meetings went on for the next two weeks with the same level of success as the first. In fact, things only seemed to be getting better, people had stopped giving her suspicious looks every time she spoke, she'd mastered the Reductor Curse which she'd always struggled with and she had become acquaintances with Neville Longbottom. Even if she wasn't so widely hated anymore, they still tended to be the only two left partner-less and were therefore stuck together. She had been ready for weeks of awkwardness and uncomfortable tension but surprisedly, he was pretty chill once he'd hit her with a few jinxes and she'd spent a weird five minutes aggressively complimenting his toad. They were far from best friends for life but he no longer flinched every time she walked in the room and that had to count for something.
The only problem with the meetings was their irregularity. Having to work around the schedules of three different Quidditch teams, which were also irregular due to the ridiculous weather they'd been having of late, made finding one set day and time impossible. Luckily, in true Granger fashion, she'd found a solution, a fat gold coin, identical to a Galleon, in which the numerals around the edge changed to show the time of the next meeting.
"The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocket you'll be able to feel them," she held one up to the light. "We take one each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meeting he'll change the numbers on his coin, and because I've put a Protean Charm on them, they'll all change to mimic his."
A stunned silence followed her words. That was an advanced spell and they weren't due to learn it until seventh year and even then it was one of the more challenging ones that rarely came up in exams.
"Well-I thought it was a good idea..." she said, looking a bit dim as she held the basket of fake Galleons to her chest. "I mean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there's nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But...well, if you don't want to use them-"
"That's not it, Granger," Ramona cut in before things got worse, "they're impressed. The Protean Charm is still advanced at N.E.W.T. level, you've stunned them without even having to cast Stupefy."
"Oh...well...yes, I suppose it is a little advanced," her face brightened considerably. "So, does this mean we're using the Galleons?"
The tension in the crowd was palpable, even if the champions couldn't be seen, this was the final task and so far things had been pretty neck-and-neck between Potter and Cedric and everyone was desperate to see who would come out victorious. Fleur Delacour had been first out, having shot a shower of red sparks into the air about an hour in, a signal of surrender, and was escorted out of the maze shaking and pale. Viktor Krum didn't last as long as many had expected, also being taken out after surrendering not long after Fleur. So it was just between the two Hogwarts students. Even with their guaranteed success, the student body was restless and full of anticipation.
Ramona was sitting at the very edge of her seat, lips bitten raw, Cho's hand clutched tightly in hers as they silently cheered Cedric on. He was the perfect example of what the champion should be, humble, kind, patient, selfless, ambitious, the list was endless. In her mind, it shouldn't go to the already famous, over-hyped, not even properly qualified Boy Who Lived.
There was a sudden crack and two people landed in front of the entrance to the maze, the Triwizard Cup gleaming in the moonlight. The crowd sprung to their feet, cheering wildly, the applause thunderous. But Ramona knew something wasn't right. Why wasn't Cedric moving? Was he hurt? She began to push her way into the aisle and made her way down, Cho not far behind her, confused. A hand caught her by the shoulder, trying to stop her. Harry Potter was sobbing through words that she couldn't make out, clutching onto Cedric's unmoving chest...his eyes were wide and open and blank.
For a second, all noise vanished and her sight grew fuzzy before everything came back at once, hitting her head-on like a train. Ramona pushed off the hand holding her back and managed to make her way down to the lifeless body of Cedric Diggory. His father was there, cupping his face which was splattered with tears and blood. Ramona just stood there, staring down at him, unable to breathe.
Then, he stared back. He stood in front of her, warm and colourful and alive, the crowd and the maze melting away and leaving only the two of them. She blinked rapidly a few times to try and dispel the image of his body from her mind. He was fine, he was right in front of her, smiling, but...he still wasn't breathing. His chest wasn't moving. He wouldn't even blink.
"Ced, what's going on?"
He just stared back, looking eerily like a wax statue.
"What are you doing?"
No response. She wondered if he was playing another weird joke on her again, a muggle one, even if she definitely wasn't finding it funny.
"Cedric!"
She might have imagined it but she thought he looked sad for a second, despite his fixed smile.
"Cedric, please talk to me!"
She made to grab him by the arms, to shake him back to her but when she tried, her hands moved through him like a mist. It wasn't like with a ghost, there was no sudden cold sensation and for a few moments, he shimmered and began to dissipate like morning fog before it swirled back together to make him whole again. Ramona tried again, to take his hand in hers, but again, she made no contact.
"Cedric!"
Ramona was surprised that when she opened her eyes, she was staring the the emerald green canopy over her bed instead of Cedric's body. She sat up, slowly realising that she must have had a nightmare, that hadn't been how the day actually played out though she was unsure if this was worse. She rubbed at her eyes to clear them, only to find that her face was wet. Had she been crying or had Delilah tried to wake her up with a surprise Auguamenti again?
"Morning!" Daphne peered at her around the door of the bathroom.
"Merlin!" Ramona had not expected any of the girls to be up already, it was still dark outside and the Slytherin girls were notoriously Not morning people. "You're up early, Daph, couldn't sleep?"
"No," Daphne looked almost offended. "It's the first Quidditch match of the year and we were so cruelly deprived last year so I'm going all out with the face paint."
Ramona blinked at her a few times. "How many hours did you think you'd need to put on a few stripes?"
"It's not that simple, I need to account for different shades of green and silver, which best would compliment today's ensemble and then I need to decide whether I'm doing horizontal or vertical or diagonal or even if I am doing stripes or-"
"Fine, fine, point proven, I'll never question your judgement in regards to this fine art form ever again."
Ramona slipped out of her bed as Daphne disappeared back into the bathroom and began to get dressed, pushing the painfully vivid image of Cedric out of her mind. Making sure she had the little Galleon Granger had handed out, she headed downstairs, wondering what that day's Daily Prophet headline would be and if it would infuriate her more than the last.
Despite the early hour, the Great Hall was pretty full, everyone had sorely missed Quidditch and all teams wanted to properly scope out what they'd be up against this season. Most were decked out in red and gold, making Ramona stick out like a sore thumb in her green jumper and the little stripes on her cheeks that Daphne had forced upon her, and the topic on everybody's lips was the match.
What was odd to her was that seemingly everyone at the Slytherin table bore a little silver pin in the shape of a crown and stared at her as if it was her fault for missing the memo. She dismissed it as a new trend she'd either forgotten about or completely blocked out, sat down amidst the chaos and tried to silently enjoy her toast, praying that the Daily Prophet owl would hurry up so she could drown out the noise.
"Did you not get a badge, Mona?" Daphne loomed above her, her whole face painted green and silver. "They were handing them out in the common room."
"What are they?" she sighed. "We've already got banners and scarves and hats, why do we need badges too? Bit of a waste, if you ask me."
A little smile tugged at Daphne's lips and she dug a handful of the badges out of her pocket, scattered them across the table for Ramona to read what was etched across the little crown.
Weasley is our King.
"No."
"What?"
"I'm not wearing that, Daph," she pushed them away from her and began to butter another slice of toast. "First of all, they look cheap, second of all, it's just a pitiful Potter Stinks wannabe, third of all, it's actually sad that you all invested time into making these just to take the piss out of Weasley."
Daphne would have looked rather intimidating had her face not been so ostentatiously painted. "Don't suddenly start acting all high and mighty, Burke, it's not a good look on you."
She gathered her badges back into her arms as a massive jeer rose from their table, Potter and Weasley after entering the Great Hall. Ramona watched them make their way to the Gryffindor table, Weasley looking ready to projectile vomit at any second, the green tint of his face clashing with his hair. She could only hope this was him after seeing the badges, if not, Gryffindor was in for a hard defeat. She wanted to do something but she couldn't think of a single way of going about it without getting herself in a lot of trouble. What only made things worse was when Draco came down and began handing out sheets of parchment to little clusters of students which they would then immediately begin pouring over.
"Draco," she called as he went to pass her by, "what're those?"
He looked her over briefly. "The chant for the match today...where's your badge?"
"They're tacky, I wouldn't be caught dead in one," she leaned across the table and snatched the top piece of parchment on his pile and began to read.
Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King.
Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King.
Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King.
It was like a Reductor Curse hitting a bag of dog shite, or more simply: not good.
"Pretty clever, huh? We wanted to put in a few verses about his fat mother and loser father but we ran out of time."
"It's juvenile, degrading, offensive and cruel," she scrunched the parchment up into a tight ball and resisted throwing it at him.
"That's kinda the whole point, Mona."
Without a single thought of the shunning she would get for this stunt, Ramona snatched the ball of parchment off the table, stood up, and made a beeline for the Gryffindor table. All she could think about was how hypocritical she would be if she let this happen, if she didn't at least try to stop it.
"Where are you going?"
She raised her middle finger over her shoulder without looking back. Cho had tried to catch her as she stormed past and DA members turned to look at her in panic, terrified she was about to blow their cover, a Slytherin willingly associating with Gryffindors was far too suspicious. This was such a bad decision, she knew it, but she was doing it anyways.
She approached Harry Potter where he sat talking with Luna, a life-size lion head mounted atop her own which swayed precariously ever time she moved her head even slightly, Weasley sat beside him, staring despondently into his empty bowl of cereal, reevaluating all his life decisions. She tossed the scrunched-up lyrics at Potter.
"Read those, I'm going to try and stop it."
Weasley looked up and tried to read over Potter's shoulder but was nudged away as the famous Boy-Who-Lived turned to look at her. "Did you know about this?"
"I just found out this morning, it's embarrassing how much effort they've all put into this."
He almost looked worried. "What are you going to do, Burke?"
"I just told you," she was already walking away, "I'm going to stop it, you don't need to know how exactly I plan do do it, keep him distracted and don't let him hear."
"Burke!" he called but Ramona was already out the door.
~~
"But Professor this is literally mass bullying!" she gestured frantically at another copy of the lyrics she'd laid down on Professor Snape's desk.
"This is nothing more than a bit of friendly competition, Miss Burke," he slid the lyrics back across the desk. "Now, I'd advise you get back to the stands to cheer on your team."
She tried to stop the shout that rose in her throat. "Professor this is-"
"Not my problem," he cut in sharply. "Get back to the stands before I have to deduct points for wasting my time."
With a low growl in the back of her throat, she took the lyrics and stormed out of his office, brain flooding with all the various ways this could end up in disaster. The match was sure to be starting soon, the corridors were empty and she could hear the hum of the crowd heading down to the pitch outside. She didn't exactly have very many options.
She sprinted up and away from the dungeons, heading towards the staff room, praying that she could catch McGonagall before she left for the stadium. Just as she was approaching the door, it opened and she almost collided headfirst with whoever had come out. She had hoped it would be McGonagall herself or pretty much any professor other than Umbridge.
"Miss Burke, why am I not surprised?" Umbridge fixed her High Inquisitor badge with a huff. "You're in violation of Educational Decree Number Two, no running in the corridors so I'm afraid I'll have to deduct ten points from Slytherin."
Ramona grit her teeth. "I'm looking for-"
Umbridge held up a hand to stop her. "If you don't apologise Miss Burke I'm afraid I'll also have to give you detention."
"I'm sorry," she all but spat back. "I'm looking for Professor McGonagall, is she in there?"
Umbridge pursed her thin lips suspiciously. "Pray tell, what business do you have with Professor McGonagall that cannot be handled during class time?"
"My business."
"I don't like your tone, Miss Burke," she flashed a sickly sweet smile. "I'll ask again and I advise you to be careful with your words, what's your business with Professor McGonagall?"
Ramona really didn't have the time for this but couldn't find any way around this that wouldn't wind her up in detention or even worse. "It's in regards to slanderous material targeting a student on the Gryffindor team."
"What 'slanderous material' is it you speak of, dear?"
Ramona fixed her with a look, knuckles turning ashy around the ball of parchment. "You'll find out soon if you don't let me see Professor McGonagall!"
"By Educational Decree Number Ten, students may not unnecessarily raise their voices, Miss Burke!"
"I see it as necessary!" Ramona fired back, digging her grave deeper and deeper. "If I have to shout to get my point across I am more than willing to do so!"
"Detention, Miss Burke!" a vein in her forehead twitched though her smile widened. "All next week, same time, same place, same punishment, it's clear you have not learnt from your mistakes and it's only right that I drill the message in deeper. It's for your own good, Miss Burke."
Though the words on the back of her hand had faded some time ago, she almost felt them sting at that. She really should have known better than to provoke Umbridge like that. Why did she even care so much? It was just a stupid little song, it wasn't even good, no harmonies or anything. Maybe this was self-sabotage.
"Please, Professor," she said in the calmest, most even tone she could muster, "where is Professor McGonagall?"
"I'm afraid she's already left for the match, dearie."
Well that was a massive waste of time and energy. Ramona turned on her heels and began to march down the hall towards the still open doors. She wouldn't have much time, barely any, but if she legged it, she might have a chance of stopping it. McGonagall always sat in the commentator's box so she wouldn't be hard to find and then she'd just have to-
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To the match," she didn't stop walking, she even sped up as the clacking of stubby heels followed after her.
"Miss Burke you must have misunderstood me if you believe I would let you go down to the match after you've completely disregarded not one, but two of my Educational Decrees and been so blatantly disrespectful," her breaths grew short and wheezy.
Ramona stopped and turned to face Professor Umbridge. "You can't do that."
"I can and I am," she was almost doubled over. "My office, Miss Burke, now. You will serve your first detention now, my special quill is out on the desk and I trust you know how to use it by now."
The air seemed to grow colder around her and for the first time in a while, she wanted to cry about something other than Cedric. "Okay."
"Good girl," Umbridge began to waddle away before stopping after a few metres to turn and say: "And Miss Burke? If I find your work unsatisfactory, I will not hesitate to keep you until I am, understood?"
"Crystal clear."
~~
I must not talk back
Ramona could hear the muffled tune from the Quidditch Stands, it rose in volume every so often, she assumed whenever Slytherin had scored. Her emerald green scarf lay discarded on the floor, she wasn't feeling much House pride at the moment.
I must not talk back
She glared venomously at the picture of Cornelius Fudge and Umbridge mounted on the wall behind the desk, the pair of them smiling down at her mockingly, fascists did tend to stick together.
I must not talk back
She was tempted to write something foul, or even do a crude drawing but that would definitely get her expelled unless her parents stepped in, not everyone had such a great sense of humour as her.
I must not talk back
The singing outside had stopped, instead replaced by several screams and the shrill blowing of Madam Hooch's whistle. Maybe Dementors had crashed the game again and if she was lucky they'd go for Umbridge.
I must not talk back
She wiped some of the blood off her hand using one of Umbridge's lace doilies before plopping it unceremoniously on her desk as a nice little present for later.
I must not talk back
There was no more singing, or screaming, and with a glance out of the window, she could see people filing back up to the castle in little groups.
I must not talk back
I must not talk back
I must not talk back
The door opened with a creak. Umbridge stood in the doorway, a satisfied little smirk on her wind-whipped face.
"Who won?" asked Ramona.
"You made that inspiring chant out to be a lot more mean-spirited than it was, Miss Burke," she sat in her chair opposite Ramona. "I thought it was a lovely display of creativity and House unity-let me see your hand."
She presented her hand, trying not to wince as Umbridge poked it and grinned.
"The message is really sinking in now," she patted it sharply two times.
"If you mean scarring, then yes."
"What was that, dearie?"
"I said thank you, Professor."
"You're dismissed for tonight."
Ramona trudged back down the corridor, inwardly whining at how much of a distance was between Umbridge's office and her common room, it was actually ridiculous. At least she was getting in a bit of a leg workout while she was at it, the Hogwarts stairs were killer. She supposed she'd have to accept this as her new life now, at least until Umbridge inevitably expelled her.
The common room was empty when she got there but soon started filling up and before she knew it, Blaise and Daphne were at her side, eyes wide. This was not a rare occurrence, the pair loved scandal and even more than that, they loved telling Ramona because she didn't care and wouldn't tell anybody, but something about the fact that everyone had that same look in her eyes made her feel like she was out of the loop of some big drama. They dragged her over to the couch by one of the glass panels, a few Grindylow darting past and began shedding their extra layers in the comfortable heat of the common room.
"Where were you?" Daphne demanded. "I hope I didn't actually upset you this morning because I didn't intend that at all I just thought that you were maybe over-"
"No," Ramona stopped the oncoming rant, "I actually got stuck in detention."
They looked confused but brushed it off. "It's fine, we'll get back to that later," said Blaise.
"Gryffindor won, quelle surprise," Daphne said lowly, "and Draco was pissed about it because we were in the lead until Potter caught the Snitch, so he started just spewing insults at Potter and maybe the Weasleys, I don't know we couldn't hear-"
Ramona rolled her eyes. "What's new, Daph?"
"I was getting to it!"
"Anyways," said Blaise, leaning in closer, "Potter and one of the Weasley twins lose the rag and start attacking Draco and like everyone was screaming-"
"I missed a scrap?" Ramona whined, she wished she hadn't said all that shit and got herself landed in detention. "Between Draco and Potter, no less? This is literally worse than detention."
"Would you let us finish?"
"Fine, sorry."
"So Madam Hooch breaks up the fight but Draco broke his nose and is lying on the ground, looking like an actual corpse and Potter and Weasley were sent up to McGonagall," Daphne spoke faster, "and now, rumour is, they're banned from Quidditch, permanently."
Ramona did a double take. "McGonagall would never do that-"
"But Umbridge would," said Blaise dryly. "Apparently she's in charge of all punishments in Hogwarts now, Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five, signed by Cornelius Fudge himself."
After a brief shock, not knowing whether to be angry or still in disbelief, Ramona glanced down at the back of her hand where the words were still etched in. "We're all screwed."