"She's making changes—Hogwarts could use some progress!"
"Oh, sure, we're progressing really well toward an end goal of making the school terrible for everybody—"
"Just because it doesn't suit your style—"
"Doesn't suit my style?"
"That's right, it's not comfortable for you, so you push it away as something bad. Try to be open-minded, Lympsham."
"Try to shut up before I decide to hex you, Ledbury."
"That is enough!" Corrie's eyes were blazing as she stood, her gaze directed at Holden Ledbury and Scarlett Lympsham. "Lympsham, I will not have my prefects using violence on one another or anyone else. You'll be staying after the meeting and we will be talking about this. Ledbury, if you're going to be purposely antagonistic you can keep your mouth shut during discussions. I'll be contacting each of you with the rounds schedule for the next month, and you can expect it to have changed because if we can't trust you to have a conversation I certainly won't be letting you decide who you're patrolling the corridors with. You were chosen as the top students in your year. Being a prefect is a responsibility that was given to you because you're meant to deserve it. So start acting like it. All of you. You can expect another meeting soon, since we weren't able to get through half of the agenda of this one. Cedric and I are taking patrol tonight. Go back to your common rooms."
The prefects filed out, a few casting dirty looks at Corrie. Most however, looked serious, and a bit guilty. Neither Draco Malfoy nor Ron Weasley, who had started the argument about Umbridge's policies before Ledbury and Lympsham took over, were among these, however; both looking annoyed at the other.
Cedric sighed. So much for unity among the houses—they couldn't even get unity within the houses.
"Sorry, Cor—I should've stepped in." Cordelia gave Cedric a tight smile.
"Yes, you should have. But I should've said something sooner too."
"You want me to talk to Scarlett?"
"Nah, I've got it. Besides, Bagley's hovering over by the door instead of walking Stimpson back like usual, and I don't think he's got anything to say to me."
"Right. I'll draft the rounds schedule tonight, then, and you can run through it tomorrow. I owe you that one."
"My hero," she responded, giving him another little smile—perhaps slightly more sincere than the last. Cedric left her to talk to Scarlett, walking over to Jack.
"I suppose it's too much to ask that you've got something positive or helpful to say."
"Well that wouldn't fit the theme of the night at all." Jack looked as strained as Cedric supposed he did himself. Dully, he motioned for Jack to continue. "I'll start with a warning that you can expect the next prefect meeting to be a lot worse than this was. I'd plan for a good twenty minutes of shouting before anyone calms down."
"Wonderful. And why is that?"
"The High Inquisitor has some plans taking effect Monday—probably why Ledbury was so smug, really. She's made a little gang, inviting people who she thinks will side with her. There are nine or ten Slytherins, and a handful of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. No Gryffs were invited—I guess she was worried they'd have loyalty to Potter. The Inquisitorial Squad, she's calling them. Plans on giving them the power to take points and everything."
Cedric took a long breath in, closing his eyes.
"It's taking effect Monday?"
"Monday. The meeting was Thursday, and she confirmed appointments today, based on the badges Crabbe and Goyle didn't manage to hide."
"Well." Cedric tried to process what this meant—it didn't go past him that Umbridge was effectively undermining the Heads' roles, along with the other consequences—but didn't have the energy tottery to figure something out. "Monday should be interesting."
Jack laughed, the weariness vanishing from his face, lingering only in his eyes.
"It certainly will."
/
NOTICE on the institution of the Hogwarts Inquisitorial Squad by Dolores Jane Umbridge, Hogwarts High Inquisitor.
PURPOSE to assist the High Inquisitor in whatever manner deemed fitting for the progress of the institutional values.
The Ministry of Magic is proud of this new step encouraging these young people toward leadership.
/
"How can they do it? Cassius was murdered—murdered—and the ministry did nothing, and they're just siding with them?"
"Some of them are still siding with the bloke who did the murdering, so I'd say that's a bit worse, mate."
If it weren't for the terrible subject and circumstances surrounding the conversation, Jack might've cheered. He'd never been as close to the other three boys as they were to one another, spending time instead with Patty Stimpson and Gil Osset, but he'd spent plenty of time with them anyhow. This had always been their dynamic: Andrew was the first to be passionate about a cause, Adrian the one rolling his eyes and offering an evaluation of the subject. Cassius had balanced them, and without him it was like something in both of them had snapped. They'd come back from the summer transformed by grief, Andrew so careful he seemed almost afraid to make any choice and Adrian jumping headfirst into situations without looking where he was. For a moment, the two seemed perfectly normal.
"It's how they were raised," Nerissa cut in, looking sour. "They've got voices at home telling them what to believe and what's true, and they're listening. If they support the ministry, they'll be in good position to join it when their parents take over." She paused, looking at the group assembled in the dormitory. "Doesn't mean they're not shitty for it."
"It arguably makes it worse—it's not even an active choice, they're just listening to someone else," Miles put in, to general agreement.
"Should we have joined? Tried to reduce the damage?" Jack voiced his misgiving, the one he'd not been comfortable enough to ask Cedric.
"I don't think it's particularly the kind of institution you fix from the inside, Jack," Adrian responded.
"Could've tried."
"Let it go, Bagley. We don't need another reason for the Gryffs to be mad at us—they've not gotten over Malfoy's song yet."
Jack slumped back into his chair, feeling relieved. Conversation slowly trickled away, the comfortable silence that remained never unbroken for long as people flicked in and out—Kevin Bletchley to ask Miles for help, Blaise Zabini to argue about proper potion making protocol with Rissa, all the while making notes to use for his essay, Zoe Accrington dragging Amy Frome, who had just been invited and agreed to join the DA, and therefore deemed by Zoe a worthy member of their private common room.
Jack was glad for the movement, the busyness. It helped him ignore how empty the room felt when it was just the three seventh years—he needed that tonight especially, with the talk of Cassius.
How can they do it? He echoed Andrew in his head. How can they do it when it could just as easily have been them?
/
"I've written my Aunt," Susan Bones declared, speaking clearly over the quiet conversations going on around the room. No one had wanted to be the first to speak, and certainly no one had expected it to be Susan Bones. "Yesterday, when they made the announcement. Just to see if there's anything she could do—anything anyone could do." Everyone was looking at Susan now, hoping that she had good news. "It's not good—the DMLE can't do much against Fudge when he technically hasn't done anything wrong, legally. Aunt Amelia says Fudge isn't listening to anyone, even her."
This wasn't good news, and everyone knew it. Next to the minister himself, Amelia Bones was the most powerful voice in the ministry.
"I've got the same response," Cedric put in. "We all know Umbridge is being presented as a helper for Hogwarts, trying to make it better. As long as they've got that cover story, they can justify just about anything. My dad and Susan's aunt can have all the sway they want, but the ministry's keeping their noses just clean enough to avoid scrutiny from the majority of the wizarding world."
"And it doesn't hurt that they've got the Prophet under their thumb—they can tell the world whatever they want," Alicia Spinnet added. "They've already got everyone thinking Dumbledore's unfit to teach and Harry's a liar, and that's a pretty good foundation for arguments about reform—sorry, Harry."
"Don't worry about it," Harry replied, looking considerably worried about it.
"So we just do nothing?" Marietta asked. "Just let the ministry keep lying—let the Inquisitorial Squad take points for whatever they want?" Her question hung in the air, no one able to answer and everyone hoping someone else could.
"For now, we keep learning defense. Keep preparing for what's out there—for who's out there." Harry looked at the DA, his worry having shifted to determination. "We're Dumbledore's Army, remember? The thing they're afraid of. There's more at stake than house points. Voldemort is out there, getting more powerful, and if the ministry's not going to prepare we'll have to do it instead. Now find a partner, everyone—we're going over impedimenta today, and then we'll practice with all the things we've done so far: knowing lots of spells isn't worth anything if you can't use them under pressure."
/
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah—nice one, Granger. I'm used to Cho's style: speed over precision. You've got both."
"I'm nothing next to Harry," Hermione replied, but Marietta noticed the pride that washed over her features.
"He's a good leader, but he couldn't do it without you and Weasley—he's always more confident when he's with you two. Maybe he'd still be talented, but he wouldn't be giving speeches like he did earlier."
"Maybe," Hermione responded, but she sounded unconvinced. "Harry hates not acting on things—he can't sit around while something needs to be fixed. I think that did it today—with the DA he feels like he's doing something. And we all can too."
"I wish we could actually do something—something that stretches beyond Hogwarts. That makes Fudge change his mind." That makes my parents change their minds, she thought, but didn't add it.
"It only took a summer for them to believe it—how long could it take to change them back?" Hermione's tone was filled with levity, but after a moment, her eyes widened. "That's it—sorry, do you mind working with Justin? I need to talk to Luna."
"Luna Lovegood? Why—" Hermione was already headed over to Luna, however, and Gil Osset came over, shrugging in response to Marietta's questioning look.
"She was asking something about Luna's dad."
"Luna's dad? But he—" Marietta raised her eyebrows, beginning to understand the other girl's plan. "That's…an interesting choice." Gil raised his eyebrows at the vague statement, but didn't comment. "It's just that Luna's dad is the editor for the Quibbler. And I think Granger wants to put a story out, somehow, through it. I don't know what she plans to accomplish, though."
Marietta guessed from Gil's expression that he'd heard of the Quibbler. She'd told Cho more than once that it wasn't much worse than the Prophet these days, but looking at the matter face on she had to admit to some overstatement: the Prophet, for all its false information, at least had respect. The Quibbler, however…
Marietta hoped that, whatever Hermione's idea was, it was really, really good.
/
Miles had not expected to end his Hogsmeade trip by being dragged into Scrivener's by Jacob Urquhart, but that was nevertheless what happened.
It had been Liam Urquhart's fault. Miles liked Jacob, but had never gotten along with his brother, often wishing they had been born just one more month apart, so Liam would be twelve months older, and in a different year.
It has happened quickly: Miles had left The Three Broomsticks after getting butterbeer with his brother (an event Kevin had insisted on making a part of each Hogsmeade visit, to Miles' grudging agreement—he only hoped Kevin would get his fill this term so Miles could do as he liked the next). Justin Finch-Fletchley had been outside, just about to come in, and Miles had stopped say hello, a greeting quickly cut off by the sound of Liam Urquhart's voice.
"You're going to get your robes dirty, standing that close to a mudblood."
Justin had looked irritated—he seemed more annoyed than angry, really, as though he was tired of the insult instead of offended by it.
"People talk, Miles," Liam continued, "So try not to act like such a disgrace to Slytherin and make friends with those who are worth something."
Miles, ignoring the wand in his pocket, stepped forward and promptly punched Liam Urquhart in the face.
What happened next was a blur—the only things Miles was really sure of were the fact that Hodlen Ledbury had joined Liam Urquhart in the fight and Jake had stepped in to drag Miles into Scrivener's and out the back entrance. At some point, he was pretty sure Justin had slipped inside the building—a good choice, Miles thought.
"You're an idiot." Jake said bluntly.
"I'm an idiot?"
"You both are," he amended, which didn't make Miles feel a whole lot better. Still, he was grateful—and more than a little surprised—that Jake had helped him.
"Thanks. You, uh, you didn't have to step in."
"They were out of line—way out of line. Not that you should have hit them, just…Try and save that energy for the pitch, yeah?"
"Are you kidding? Hooch would give the other team a penalty before I'd finished the punch. And I'd have to stop it."
"Your problem, not mine." They were silent for a while, Hogwarts drawing closer as they walked.
"I wish they weren't like that," Jake said. "Talking like that is what disgraces Slytherin—I mean, where's the pride and ambition that we're supposed to show when you're throwing cheap insults."
"You don't agree with them, then?" Jake shot Miles a nasty look.
"Obviously. I'm not an idiot." The vehemence surprised Miles.
"Lots of people agree with them."
"And lots don't." Jake paused, then sighed. "They've been mad all week, trying to get me to join the squad and not talking to me when I tell them I won't. It's exhausting. I just—they're just seeking power, and taking it when it's given to them. There's no determination or resourcefulness or—or even ambition. What's something like that worth if you've done nothing to deserve it but agree with the people in power because it benefits you?"
He cut off, looking embarrassed, and picked up his pace. Miles matched him, and they didn't talk more until reaching the doors.
"Sorry. I'm just frustrated."
"No worries." Miles paused, weighing his thoughts, and as Jake turned to go inside, reached out to stop him. "Wait! There's…look, there's this thing. A club, kind of. But not one that's strictly approved by Umbridge. Just…if you want to spend time with people who aren't like them."
Jake looked bemused. "If I want to spend time with different people I can join an illegal student group?"
"Yeah…I mean, it's an option."
"I'll consider it."
"Let me know." Jake nodded at Miles and walked inside, smiling faintly.
After a few minutes of panic, regret, and, finally, acceptance of his actions, Miles followed.
/
The seventh year Slytherin boys, seventh year Hufflepuff girls, sixth year Ravenclaw boys, and fifth year Gryffindor boys returned from Hogsmeade to find their rooms in states of wild disorder. They had the appearance one might expect after a frantic search for a missing piece of very expensive borrowed jewelry: that sense that something small was being searched for, something which could be hidden in any nook or cranny.
The searches seemed to have been random, connected only by the fact that none of the dorms searched had members of the Inquisitorial Squad living in them: there were no clear suspects.
Irritated, they began attempting to set their rooms to rights.
In the fifth year boy's dormitory, Harry Potter began to put his belongings back in his trunk, thinking back three years to the time he had done something very similar—though that time it had only been him gathering his things, not the others.
His train of thoughts was cut off as he picked up a package whose poor wrapping had come partly undone in the chaos—it clearly had not been what the searcher had been looking for. The contents glinted through the grubby brown paper wrapping. Pulling the contents out, Harry looked into his own bright green eyes, words flickering from his memories into the front of his mind:
Use it if you need me, all right?
And so the world gets a little darker, but pockets of hope remain. Also, if you'd like to let me know who your favorite main character of the story is-Jack, Andrew, Adrian, Cedric, or Marietta-you can do that through the poll in my bio :)