"You should've come, Hermione." Parvati kept her gaze fixed on her own image, applying finer shades to her cheekbones. Lavender had decided to neglect her routine in favor of some additional slumber, so her best friend involved her into the conversation instead. "I mean, if you're more into the academic stuff, you can surely quiz Madam Sprout 'bout the exact soil ingredients and levels of humidity -", Lavender giggled into her cushion, "but it's really worthwhile for the sun."
"That McLaggen guy always takes his shirt off after fifteen minutes or so", Lavender threw in with a pronounced innocent smile.
"He's used to go hunting with his father", Parvati went on, patting maquillage on her forehead now and apparently much less impressed by this promiscuity, "But Neville's skills are awesome. I had no idea he was this deep into herbology."
Hermione guessed where the conversation was heading. She had already jumped into her thin trousers, the mandatory blouse and hurried to empty her robes pockets, which she had again thrown carelessly over her chair the night before.
"He's really changed lately", Lavender added, features expressing amazement as clearly as they had denied awareness, "I'd never expected him to stand up for himself as on Friday."
"Some people experience a change in their role lately", Parvati commented, voice loaded with a certain tone, but Hermione did not permit herself to be drawn further into the conversation on that hook.
"See you downstairs", she replied evasively, and hurried to meet Harry and Ron.
"Morning", Ron greeted her, smiling. They met in the common room like this most days during the year, but today, she felt oddly aware of their friendship.
"You might want to change those", Harry added, nodding to her robes, which she had put on inside out.
"Thanks." Better if only she might reach into her pockets, Hermione thought, and had dressed properly when they met Dean at the portrait hole.
"Only two more Mondays with Binns, Snape and that hag all together", he said sternly.
"Ah, wait whom they'll accept for the post next year", Harry growled.
"Can't be much worse than her, don't you think?", Ron tried to cheer them up, "Not that I'll miss her..."
A light, casual Umbridge-bashing carried them into the Great Hall and to Gryffindor table, where Hermione happily took the most remote seat, closest to the teacher's table, and found herself next to Harry, who seemed more interested in her helping herself to some porridge than choosing something for breakfast himself.
"My buttons off, too?", she inquired, inspecting the neatly buttoned wristbands.
"No, nothing wrong with those, I suppose", Harry replied, finally dropping some toast to his plate. They ate in silence, but Hermione could tell he was just looking for words.
"Was it my imagination", he said after half of his portion, "Or did you come back on Thursday night with your hands splattered in blood?"
"Oh. … Some, yes."
"You were leaving for the dungeons", Harry continued, looking more worried than curious, "Is there any chance that Snape -"
"I know what you're thinking", she interrupted, "No, not by him."
She quickly summarized how she had gotten carried away with her rage on the Squad members, but neglected most parts of what Snape had told her about Januarius's Laws. Or how proximity to him had caused her to wish for an interaction she right now would not admit to anyone. Her failure in his class on Friday only added to the crushing embarrassment.
"Just a few minutes ago, I thought he was watching us", Harry told her, with a faint nod toward the teacher's table. "Pretends not to, of course."
Hermione, who had expected a derogatory remark on their teacher or the Squad members, struggled not to turn around and look for herself. "Wait." Putting the tips of her fingers to her wand sufficed. "Relashio", she murmured, and the wristbands unbuttoned themselves.
"D'you think that will draw his attention?"
"You're right." She reached out for a large crewet of orange juice further down the table, back turned toward the upper end, while opening the upper four buttons of her blouse for only her classmates to see.
"Now tell me about your and Ron's evening yesterday", she instructed Harry, "And close me up."
"Er – okay." Her friend, in a helpful move, decided to eat up his toast first, then pointed to her sleeve, pretending he had just yet noticed. Hermione got the faint impression he had used the time for consumption struggling not stare toward the neckline, but did not bother to dwell further on the matter.
"See, Sprout is having trouble re-growing anything on the pitch", he told her, carding the robes back in two layers, "This Fiendfyre consumes most of common magic. If she does not come up with an idea to keep water within the earth, we might as well play quidditch on ashes next year. - If I am not mistaken, he's looking at you. Discretely."
"Tell me about a match you enjoyed", Hermione asked Harry, hoping for a certain effect.
"In second year, after Malfoy's father bought him a place on the team", Harry reminisced, closing up the third and last button on her right sleeve, "We had a hard time keeping up with their new brooms..." He laid out what she considered an excruciatingly detailed story of how he had managed to catch the snitch right under a stunned Draco Malfoy's nose, but it worked: Harry's face was soon covered by the radiating happiness she had always seen on him when he discussed matches with Ron. They kept their conversation in a low voice, though, so Snape, if he was indeed watching them, only saw the elated expression on Harry's face when he carefully tended her clothes.
"There's a deep scowl at twelve o'clock", Harry informed her halfway through the second wristband. "Those, too?", he nodded toward her collar.
"Count to five, then do them, too", she replied, surprised by her own malice.
He did as she had asked him to, except for the two topmost buttons. "I like it like that."
"You like -?!", she raised her voice before she could restrain herself, then stopped at Harry's grin from one ear to another. He directed his attention back to breakfast and took his time to sip at his coffee. "He's just left the table", Harry informed her, still smiling broadly.
Hermione, too, plunged back into her meal, a little annoyed she had so easily fallen for Harry's trap.
"What is it you two are laughing at?", Ron inquired when they left for Binns lecture.
"Hermione has recently developed an interest in laying out seeds", Harry replied quickly before she could think of an explanation, "Even if it doesn't quite extend to an understanding of finer quidditch tactics."
Binns either took no interest in their absent-mindedness in his class or gracefully ignored students to busy themselves with anything but History of Magic. Even Hermione had given up her usual attitude of pretending to listen, if only to pose as a role model, and returned to her extract from Redefining Remedies. Her teacher's sermon left no capacity to cover new paragraphs, but the period allowed her to memorize the types of processing a potion in a healthy individual. She noticed that soft, light, elating feeling in her chest had returned when the bell rang. It itched her to skip class and withdraw to the library to read on, an urge she had never encountered before. When they descended down to the dungeons for regular potions class, the feeling changed considerably: Afraid of blushing again like in Defence, she excused herself to the bathroom ('The ambitious ones start binging first', Ernie Macmillan commented precociously, making her want to hit him), and applied the make-up charm from Parvati again. Between dripping faucets and cold stone walls, above her slightly loosened-up collar, a woman looked back from the mirror.
Gryffindors were just taking their seats when she rushed into the classroom, resuming her usual place between Harry and Ron. Snape had indeed decided to lecture them on the basic assumptions concerning non-linear viscosity. Fifteen minutes into his preaching, she discovered that she could finish his sentences, and allowed her attention to falter. Casting a quick glance around at her fellow students, she discovered the make-up charm to be needless: All Gryffindors and most Ravenclaws wore a distinct red on their faces, which they had probably acquired on the quidditch pitch. Her make-up charm turned out a completely needless cover. Indeed, among Gryffindor female students, the even and smooth tan rather pronounced her appearance.
Class passed with the soothing sound of quills scratching notes on parchment.
"D'you think we'll see him again in Defence?", Harry asked when the bell rang, loud enough for Snape to hear him.
"As some of you refrain from busying themselves with mundane concerns like keeping a timetable", their teacher commented instantly, "I shall remind you that the subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts is currently the responsibility of our headmistress, Professor Umbridge."
"Let's take that as a 'no'", Ron added dryly, and they hurried for upper parts of the castle, before Snape made up an excuse to preemptively punish them for being late.
Heat had crawled back into the castle during Snapes lecture, but none of them dared to sneak up into their dormitories to cast off their heavy robes, for Umbridge had been insisting on 'maintaining proper dressing' from the very beginning of term. Drowning into the classroom, Hermione noticed that the seats lined up squarely had disappeared. Instead, Squad members were now placed at the outer edge of every row.
"Good afternoon, students", Umbridge greeted them in her high-pitched, sweet voice.
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge." None of them bothered to pick a fight over such routine any more.
"Wands away."
No swift movements followed. The former silent expression of expectations, then hope, then resistance had disappeared as well.
"You will continue to study the Genealogy this week", Umbridge announced, "As I approve of Professor Snapes choice for required reading in this class. Mr Slinkhard's theses in the last chapters must not be disregarded, though, for they might be a topic of relevance in your upcoming exams."
As if you did not know better, Hermione commented bitterly in silence. The latter chapters of the book finally addressed 'implementation of elaborated principles'. No one's going to waste a second on Slinkhards opinion how to use defensive magic, not after two hundred pages of over-complicated theoretical verbiage, not now.
Yet again, she caught herself ruminating over Snape's role in events at Hogwarts. Did you use his input as opportunity to mislead our attention?, she wondered, suppressing her frustration from appearing on her face. Or did he use your absence to promote ideas we would otherwise disregard, and rightfully so, as ideology from much darker times of wizardry?
She struggled to keep calm, but her squeezing in the seat must have given away her inner turmoil: Umbridge, like a toad fixed on an especially large fly, even narrowed her eyes a little when focusing on her. Hermione raised her hand, before Umbridge got in control of the conversation.
"Miss Granger", the ugly witch began, "As of today -"
"I was wondering, Professor", Hermione cut across her, earning some raised eyebrows of her classmates for she had never interrupted a teacher so bluntly, "Whether this proceeding is in line with the ministry's approval concerning a carefully structured, theory-centered curriculum."
She imagined rumbling and rattling between Umbridge's ears. "Please elaborate Miss Granger."
"Nature's Nobility has not been on any list of required reading since You-Know-Who vanished", Hermione said, carving a sudden inspiration into shape, "So I was wondering, if the ministry deviates from its distinguished course, there must be a good reason for it."
"What do you mean by that, my dear?", Umbridges face fell apart to reveal a gleeful smile, which they had learned to recognize as sign of immediate, grave danger.
"Since as headmistress you take your responsibilities seriously", Hermione went on, displaying a no less false friendly smile, "I am positive that out curriculum only includes state of the art, proven and approved content. So a change in relevant literature certainly -", she chose her words very carefully now, "Honors the change in perspective due to empirical findings."
You can't ignore the reports of dead and disappearing wizards, you hag, she added. If Lucius Malfoy fed you information on Sirius whereabouts, the least dim-witted flashy dude with a blazer and a tie must realize that the Death Eaters absence in London means they're not gathering around him after their break from Azkaban.
"I am in close contact with the Ministry's educational department, and as former Undersecretary to the Minister, I report to him regularly and on demand", Umbridge replied calmly. "Thus, my absence in Friday was an inconvenient, but necessary interruption of a steady and reliable presence."
"So is it in line with the Ministry's position", Hermione pushed her, "That the ideas of people lead by -", intentional heavy pause here, "certain dark wizards are on the rise again?"
Umbridge took her time to look at Hermione, as the toad which anticipates the fly's course, only to catch it just within reach. "If there were any changes in the Ministry's position", she answered after painfully long silence, "I am certain that due to your – close – contact", eyes fixed at the two open buttons of her collar for the fraction of a second, " - to dubious subjects, along with your dedication to extracurricular activities, a change of major topics in the curriculum on short notice poses no difficulty to you."
Heart racing, Hermione feared she might have pushed too far. Any reference to 'dubious' usually earned Harry a stern look, but this time, Umbridge had kept gazing at her. The only made-up, covered face among Gryffindors, pale beneath the maquillage.
"If one of you wishes to speak to me about their concerns regarding the upcoming exam, I am of course available at any time. As headmistress and your teacher, it's within the range of my abilities to provide qualified reassurance of adequate learning techniques."
The toad had made her move, but none of them could tell whether she had picked her prey. "We will then return to the Genealogy", Umbridge said flatly, waving her wand, causing the books on her desk to distribute themselves at their places. "As for any further distraction", the sound of heavy books dropping in front of bored students was interrupted, "It is my sad duty to protect you from diminishing your best possible results due to irrelevant issues." Before she knew it, Umbridge pointed toward Hermione, and murmered "Alligaro."
The buttons closed themselves, but so did the tie floating from her robes pocket, choking her.
"Miss Granger, will you please repeat to me Educational Decree Number Thirty-Six."
"Proper dress -s", she gasped, "t'be m'tain'd - - all time -"
"Correct. As you are certainly aware of, my Inquisitorial Squad has permission to enforce school rules, including Educational Decrees." The headmistress let go of Hermiones collar. "I will not permit any more disruptions today", she pointed out, voice sweet as ever, ignoring her students coughing. "I am afraid Professor Snape has given you the idea that deviation from established structure serves a lasting progress in acquiring important competences. Therefore you will start with the introduction of Nature's Nobility. The homework assignment stands, of course, and I expect you to give examples based on the entire oevre. Until Thursday."
They were too shocked to comment this task. If Squad members were truly authorized to use magic outside classrooms, and worse, such disciplinary methods -
An eerie, chill calm spread among them, as they opened their books and started reading. The scratching on parchment, formerly common and welcome, felt like cutting sharply through it, as if they had switched their feathers for that diabolical black quill of Umbridge herself.
Hermione kept her gaze on the text. She dared not to loosen her tie, which was painfully tight, and focused on breathing. Distracting herself with the first page of the Genealogy only calmed her down to a certain point, when she wondered whether the make-up charm covered not only blushing, but stuck through hot tears on her cheeks.
"You're okay?", Harry whispered, halfway though the second paragraph.
"Yeah."
"You don't look -"
"Shut up", Hermione snapped, hardly keeping her shaking voice down, "She'll Silence us next."
Reading served to ease her tension a little, if only to replace anxiety with irritation. Narrative, she noted, marked and characterized by mythical approach. The genesis of a pure-blood society … she skimmed through the text. Most of it was not worth repeating in her essay.
The tie made it really hard to breath. Starts with the narration of enlightenment in - some way- , she underlined the imprecise phrasing to research on it later, establishes a sense of self-awareness. What's the key point? Contrast to muggles, - no, muggle-born magicians. She skimmed through the text for first mentions of offspring with unexplained magical abilities. Perhaps the authors framed them differently? What name might they give a witch or wizard who was not pure-blood, who had non-magical parents –
Tradition and loyalty to one's family, she recalled. A promise that they will never fuck some else than their spouse, Snape's voice rang in her ears. Breath, she told herself. Read on, keep quiet, it's we must be halfway through class already.
If pure-blood wizards consider themselves the true and only worthy keepers of magic, then any deviation from that narrative includes aberrations of one's own kind -
The text did not let her down.
Until oathbreakers brought disorder to the world and dismay to their families by spilling their magic, she copied from the book, deciding to re-phrase the metaphor into a less abstract wording later. If she was asked to use layman's terms, she would very well comply to that requirement.
Assuming that Parvati had guessed correctly, musing that pure-blooded families expected their children to remain chaste before marriage, the next part made sense. 'Dismay to their families' - the first magical folk with non-magical parents must have been half-orphans, then. Again, Hermione found her conclusion verified: Muggles were mentioned after a lengthy description of young, cunning, promising witches getting involved with non-magical men, whom the authors portrayed as parviscient, under-developed, but insidious and seductive. Despite clearly blaming undisciplined daughters for 'magicians of mixed heritage' coming into the world, the text did not derogate their children.
Then how did wizards end up calling them 'mudbloods'?
An episode of summing up their findings, as Snape had imposed on them, might have helped to check her conclusions, she admitted to herself. On the other hand, her collar was forced into the skin of her throat by the tie, and she would have learned silent enchantments before OWLs right now if only to bewitch Umbridge on the spot.
"That – was – crazy, even by her standards", Harry commented as soon as they were out of the classroom, obviously ignorant to the fact that they might be overheard by Squad members.
She fiddled at the tight knot, but it seemed to have molten into one piece of cloth.
"Would you -?", she pointed to the tie.
"Of course. Relashio", he waved his wand toward her, but the collar did not loosen up.
"What's this?", Ron frowned. "She can't force you to wear that tie forever. Relashio."
"Finite", Harry tried again to give her ease, "Finite incantatem."
Nothing happened.
"Have you tried opening them by hand?", Ron inquired.
"'course.", she croaked.
"May I -?"
"Wait", Hermione stopped him. "I've got an idea. I'll be -"
" -in the library", Ron finished her sentence, scarcely hiding his frustration, but Harry looked at her as if he had made a different, more accurate assumption where she headed to when leaving them on the spot.