Chapter Eighty-Nine: Seen and Unforeseen
Luna couldn't promise exactly when the interview would be published, so in the meantime life went on as usual. The next Saturday, Gryffindor played against Hufflepuff, and though George had to sit it out, and Ron was still a bit shaky on his broom, Gryffindor demolished Hufflepuff without much difficulty.
The Monday after, however, at breakfast, Harry was inundated with letters, as well as receiving a copy of the Quibbler, featuring the interview he'd given. To Skeeter's credit, she'd actually printed everything truthfully, as Harry had told it to her, and it was so richly detailed Daphne couldn't believe this had been written by the same person who had insinuated that Hermione was two-timing Harry with Viktor Krum.
The mountain of letters, it turned out, came from people who had read the interview. While many of them still believed that Harry was insane, there were equally many who believed him and professed their support.
"What is going on here?" Umbridge's familiar, hated voice said from behind them while Harry and the others were still sifting through all his letters. "Why have you got all these letters, Mr. Potter?"
"People have written to me because I gave an interview," Harry said, and Daphne could tell he was struggling not to smirk at Umbridge. "About what happened to me last June."
"An interview?" Umbridge asked, her voice thinner and higher than ever. "What do you mean?"
"I mean a reporter asked me questions and I answered them," Harry said. "Here…"
He threw her the copy of the Quibbler, and Umbridge's face began to grow purple as she looked at the cover.
"When did you do this?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Before Harry could answer, Daphne said, "Over Christmas break, of course."
She could tell that Umbridge didn't believe her, given that the holidays were well over a month ago, but she kept her expression neutral. If Harry had told the truth, that he'd given the interview in Hogsmeade, Umbridge would surely ban him from further visits. She couldn't, however, ban him from going home over the holidays, so it was the safest answer to give.
"Two hundred points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, and a month of detention. I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies, but nothing seems to stick."
"Gee, if only you had a horrible quill that could carve sentences in people's hands," Daphne said mockingly once Umbridge had stalked off.
By mid-morning, Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven had arrived, which stated that any student found in possession of The Quibbler would be expelled, to Daphne's great amusement. As with everything the Ministry did, their extreme denial only made it more likely that by the end of the day, everyone and their dog would have read the article.
Indeed, by the end of the day the article had mysteriously managed to spread itself everywhere, despite not a page of it being visible all day long. Umbridge was steaming like she'd downed an entire cauldron of Pepper-Up Potion. Malfoy was in a terrible mood, especially since he couldn't admit he'd read the article without getting in trouble. Nott, if possible, was even angrier, cursing out everyone who had the nerve to talk to him.
It came as something of a surprise, therefore, when he approached Daphne that evening in the common room.
"Hey, Greengrass!" he said, striding over to her when she and Tracey came in from their usual homework session in the library.
Nott glared at Tracey. "Get lost, Davis. I want to talk to Greengrass alone," he said.
Tracey gave Daphne an uncertain look, and Daphne shrugged in response. She was fairly confident she'd be able to handle Nott if she really had to.
Tracey shot a disdainful look at Nott, and then she walked away.
"So? Since when do you want to talk to me?" Daphne asked.
"You and Potter are together, right?" Nott asked.
Daphne nodded. "Yes, so?"
"Was that interview your idea? He doesn't seem to be the type to think of something like that."
Daphne cocked her head. "What if it was? Want revenge because your father got called out?"
Nott scoffed. "No. I don't care about that. My father is an idiot who believes that the Dark Lord will usher in an age of pureblood supremacy, but how could he do that when he's just a half-blood himself? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is a liar who cares only for himself and no one else."
"So…what does that have to do with…anything?" Daphne asked uncertainly.
"I want him dead," Nott said simply. "And I want to know if Potter is really something special. If he really has the ability to fight You-Know-Who and win. Because he and you might be Mudblood-lovers, you at least aren't hypocrites."
"Why ask me and not him?" Daphne asked.
"I don't want to be around Mudbloods any longer than I need to."
"And yet talking to a blood traitor is fine?"
"What you choose to do is your business, no matter how much I might disagree with it. That doesn't change the fact that your blood is pure."
"What is your problem with Muggleborns, anyway? Their magic is the same as ours, you know."
"The Muggles have their world. We have ours. Haven't you heard them talking? 'Oh, this is so outdated', 'This is a really dumb way of doing things', 'This does not make any sense at all'… If you don't like the way we do things, get lost.
"I'll be honest with you, Greengrass: I don't care one bit about Muggles and their world. I don't see the need to subjugate them and do away with the Statute of Secrecy. I don't want them to fear us, I want them to leave us the hell alone. You either live in our world entirely, or you don't live in it at all. Mudbloods, however, want that changed. They want the worlds to mix. They want their customs to become our customs. I don't."
Daphne blinked. "But…I take Muggle Studies. My so-called pure blood doesn't stop me from being interested in their world, because it's so much bigger than ours. The Weasleys are purebloods, and they are interested in Muggles, too."
"Being interested in them and wanting to impose Muggle culture on wizarding society are different things, Greengrass, and that is what Mudbloods want. But I didn't come here to convince you to see things my way. I couldn't care less if you do. All I want to know is if Potter can kill You-Know-Who."
"Voldemort wants Harry dead," Daphne said, noting that Nott barely flinched when he heard the name. "And he wants to do it personally. Dumbledore believes that Harry has a chance to kill Voldemort. So do I. Whether it's true or not…we'll have to wait and see."
Nott stared at her intently, almost as if he were trying to catch her in a lie.
Seemingly satisfied that she wasn't lying, he said, "Good. Now, I don't know what You-Know-Who's plans are, obviously…but my father does, to a degree. I'll see what I can find out, and then you and Potter and Dumbledore and whoever else are involved with trying to stop him can use it how you will."
"You…want to spy on your father just to get rid of Voldemort?" Daphne asked. "Why now? You knew he was back already. You knew Harry was telling the truth."
"I didn't know any details before. I knew Potter and You-Know-Who have a history, but you'll understand that the stories I've heard have been rather…one-sided. I want the Dark Lord gone. The future he's after is only going to hurt the wizarding world in the long run. There are simply too many Muggles for us to have a chance at subjugating all of them, and once our existence becomes common knowledge, our way of life will be gone. I will not let that happen.
"I know there are others who understand this. I know Parkinson has been trying to convince Malfoy, but that's a lost cause. I don't care if I have to work together with people I don't like if it means reaching my goal, and you're in a position where you can make sure the information I find — if any — can be passed to the right people." He scoffed. "Once You-Know-Who is defeated many purebloods will surely lose a lot of influence. It might already be too late to keep life as it is. But this way, at least I'll have done all I can."
Daphne nodded slowly. She hadn't expected Nott to approach her at all, much less about something like this. Still, it might prove useful to the Order of the Phoenix. Snape, of course, would likely already have all the information Nott could possibly gather, but perhaps there were things even he wasn't aware of, things of lesser importance to Voldemort, but which might still cause harm to innocent people.
"Alright," she said. "If you discover anything at all, just let me know."
Nott nodded once and then walked away.
Daphne stood still for a moment, still surprised at what had just happened. Harry and the others were never going to believe this…
For the next couple of weeks, life at Hogwarts was almost normal. Nott hadn't talked to Daphne even once after suddenly approaching her in the common room, and homework, Occlumency and Divination practice, and Order meetings took up most of Daphne's time.
Then, however, during one dinner, there was a huge commotion in the entrance hall. Daphne and the others quickly fought their way through the doors, and saw Trelawney standing in the middle of the entrance hall, holding her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her disheveled appearance did nothing to improve that perception. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, looking like they'd been thrown down the stairs after her.
Trelawney herself was staring at Umbridge, who stood at the foot of the stairs with an evil smile on her face. "No!" Trelawney shrieked. "No! This cannot be happening…It cannot…I refuse to accept it!"
"You didn't realize this was coming?" Umbridge taunted. "Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?"
"You c-can't!" Trelawney cried, tears streaming down her face. "You can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"
"It was your home," Umbridge said, clearly relishing being able to sack someone at last, "until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."
"Not as much as you are, you spiteful hag…" Daphne muttered. What she wouldn't give to just draw her wand and curse that toad into a fine paste…
McGonagall arrived, trying to console Trelawney. "There, there, Sibyll…Calm down…Blow your nose on this. It's not as bad as you think, now…You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…"
"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge said in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. "And your authority for that statement is…?"
"That would be mine," Dumbledore's voice said.
He stood in the open front doors, having just come from outside. If the moment hadn't been so dramatic, Daphne would've thought Dumbledore had been waiting outside for his cue.
He strode forward and stood next to Trelawney and McGonagall.
"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" Umbridge asked. "I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here…" She pulled out a parchment scroll from within her robes. "…an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she — that is to say, I — feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."
Dumbledore hadn't stopped smiling even for a moment. "You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid," he went on, with a courteous little bow, "that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."
Trelawney tried to protest in indignation, but Dumbledore talked her down and asked McGonagall to escort her back upstairs. Umbridge's smile had vanished by now, though Dumbledore's still hadn't.
"And what," Umbridge asked in a carrying whisper, "are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"
"Oh, that won't be a problem," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "You see, I've already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."
"You've found…?" Umbridge said shrilly. "You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Number Twenty-two–"
"–the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if, and only if, the headmaster is unable to find one," Dumbledore said. "And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?"
He turned to the open front doors, and from the mist that was billowing in strode a figure Daphne hadn't seen since the year before, when she'd gone to the Forbidden Forest to look for help with her visions.
"This is Firenze," Dumbledore said happily to a thunderstruck Umbridge. "I think you'll find him suitable."
Daphne grinned at his nerve at hiring Firenze under Umbridge's nose, but she was worried as well. Umbridge had been getting increasingly unhinged as all her punishments and decrees had been backfiring on her. Daphne couldn't help but feel that the appointment of Firenze would be the final drop for Umbridge to really start taking drastic measures, and whatever those would be, she didn't need her Divination to be able to tell it wouldn't be good for anyone at Hogwarts.
Now that I'm reading the books again while writing this story, it's beginning to occur to me more and more how many timeskips there are, during which not much happens, and how little agency the characters actually have due to being teenagers. Events happen and the characters react, but it isn't until Deathly Hallows that they're truly left to their own devices for a while…and they bottle it spectacularly until they eventually get railroaded again.
Now, like I said at the very beginning of this story, I love Stations of the Canon, and I don't personally mind lots of copy-pasting, but I can also imagine that reading it might not be particularly riveting.
The thing is, my main challenges for this story are writing a triad ship, and to keep the update schedule going. That second one means that literally everything I write and post is first-draft and written under a massive time crunch. I don't really mind that myself because I enjoy the challenge and the writing process, but it does have the consequence that there simply isn't much in the way of originality in the story. It's very much a two-cakes kind of deal. Not as spectacular or well thought-out as many other stories, just there for people who happen to be looking for more.
What's the point of this AN? Mostly just to give some insight into the writing process, and to once more explain why there is so much copy-pasting going on. I want to keep the streak going by any means necessary.