The excitement over Professor Trelawney having died down, March and April fell into a dull but subdued routine. The dreary snows of March gave in to dreary rains and finally a few sparse, sunny days which promised the beginning of spring. Every day the Slytherins checked with Aaron to see who was still in the running on the Hagrid poll. Every day they were amazed to see that the half-giant had not yet been sacked.
Beth was grateful for the quiet days. They gave her a chance to focus on things she really needed to work on - specifically, her class work and her N.E.W.T.s. After almost seven full years of school she knew perfectly well that it was impossible to be completely caught up, but she came remarkably close. She was on pace with Bruce on the N.E.W.T.s primer - about three-quarters through - and found time to attend all of the weekly practices. The potions she was grading for Snape became more complex, but she rose to the task with a capability that surprised her. All in all, it looked like the school year might not end so badly after all.
Despite that, she would not let herself relax into complacency - too much could still go wrong. She heard from Richard near the beginning of April; he had noticed someone following him around Knockturn Alley, and had called on some of his Society alumni allies to help "nullify the threat." She thought that probably included a memory modification and some restriction of movement, but was unwilling to ask for details. Reports of Death Eater sightings sprinkled the Daily Prophet. The banshee reappeared late in March, shrieking under an open sky. At least the worst had not yet happened; and there hadn't been a Death Eater meeting since the end of February.
Mervin slowly got over the loss of Gina and stopped looking for her every day with the magic mirror in the prefects' lounge. ("Every other day," Melissa reported, rolling her eyes. "Quite an improvement, actually.") Aaron, Bruce, and Warrington endured Quidditch practices that grew longer and more demanding as the weather improved. As for the latter, Antigone had yet to shoot a single glance in his direction. Warrington remained, by parts, irritable and despondent. Fortunately his grades were already so low that they didn't suffer.
The student body got used to seeing bare-chested Firenze shoveling down bran flakes at breakfast every day; by some reports, the centaur was slowly but surely learning to climb stairs. It was odd to sit in the common room and hear horses' hooves clatter overhead, or sometimes canter down the dungeon hallways to chat with Snape, but gradually the creature became as much a part of the Hogwarts community as Binns, Hagrid, or his batty predecessor up in the tower reading cards to see if she would ever get her job back.
It was a calm Monday night in mid-April when the peace of the school was once more shattered.
The common room buzzed with a pleasant mix of talk and rustling as the evening study hours were in full swing. At the seventh-years' usual table, the conversation was replaced with recitation.
"Ulfric. Ulrich. Eldrich. Edgar."
"You missed Emerick," Beth said, head down on the table in the middle of her History of Magic notes.
"Bugger Emerick," said Melissa. "Where was I? Edgar. Emerson. James. George. Grogin. Clagg. Cameron..."
"Please study something else," Mervin groaned from the other end of the table.
"I'm almost finished with the third Wizarding Council," Melissa snapped. "Cameron, Dameon, Fist and Ferrin. There. You don't have to listen to it any more."
"Thank goodness." Beth raised her head from the book, conscious of a red indentation along her cheek. "Just spend ten minutes drilling me on Arithmancy, Mel, and I'll quiz you on Ancient Runes."
"You can't read ancient runes," Melissa reminded her.
"Well, you can't say I didn't offer."
"Hem hem."
The small sound cut over the noise as if it were a foghorn. Every eye turned toward the door. Just inside the common room stood none other than Professor Umbridge, with her fat little arms raised and a frightening little smile on her face. The common room grew extremely quiet.
"Thank you!" said Professor Umbridge, fairly beaming. The light from the fireplace cast a mad glint in her eyes. "It is a pleasure to see all you young Slytherins working and playing so nicely together." She clasped her hands together. "First, I am pleased to report that as of tonight, I, Dolores Umbridge, am replacing Albus Dumbledore as head of Hogwarts school."
There was a moment of dead silence.
Then, in the silence, Draco Malfoy began to applaud. It spread through the common room like wildfire, and Professor Umbridge, pink with pleasure, smiled around at them for a full three minutes before it died down.
"Thank you, thank you all." She clasped her hands before her and put on a faux-mournful expression. "I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news." Murmurs of interest. "It seems that several of your classmates in the other three houses have been involved with an organization which flaunts the tenets of Educational Decree number Twenty-Four."
Beth and Melissa exchanged a look of dread. Was number twenty-four the one banning unapproved societies? Had the Society been found out? Or the Guild? Or...
"These students, calling themselves 'Dumbledore's Army' -" There were derisive snickers from the students, and the Society members joined in nervously. "- have escaped punishment on a mere technicality. Many of them have shown criminal tendencies in the past, and I have no doubt that they will attempt to re-form themselves into this 'army' or something very similar. We can't have that, can we?"
"No, Professor Umbridge," came the singsong reply.
I can't believe how well she has us trained, Beth thought. She was having trouble absorbing the information about Dumbledore and the fall of the D.A. What did that mean for the Guild members who had been in the D.A.? And further, what did that mean for the Society?
"Of course not," Professor Umbridge crooned. "That's why I have come to you, my most loyal, my most trustworthy students. As Headmistress, I wish to form a group of you to help ... keep an eye on the student body. To prevent this sort of occurrence in the future." She smiled sweetly. "This 'Inquisitorial Squad' will of course require certain privileges of movement, and the ability to take house points as necessary."
There was more silence as the meaning of her words sunk in.
"Pansy and I are at your service, Professor," Draco Malfoy said, bowing slightly. "Crabbe and Goyle as well." Crabbe and Goyle, exchanging sinister grins, stood up in tandem.
"Your enthusiasm is delightful, Mr. Malfoy," said Umbridge smoothly. "The decision, however, must not be made lightly." There were a few murmurs of agreement (and a whole lot of less pleasant mutterings in the background). She raised her palm and a pink scroll appeared in it. "All those interesting in joining my little club should put down their names," she crooned, once again addressing the entire room. "I'll just nip back and pick up the scroll once you're all off to bed." She paused. "Won't it be lovely once Hogwarts is all settled down and safe again?"
She meant, of course, once Hogwarts was under her own control. Everyone knew it and no one said it. With a cheery little wave night-night, Umbridge left the common room.
The room exploded into conversation.
Without a moment's hesitation, Draco Malfoy strode to the pink sign-up sheet and put down his name. He was followed immediately by Pansy Parkinson and that indispensable pair, Crabbe and Goyle. (Beth thought they were sure to make it on the squad, since they had a total of ten years' experience being thugs already.) With an air of satisfaction, the group retreated to a corner, where they put their heads together in a very sinister way.
Slowly, a stream of students began making their way to the parchment. Scrawny, ambitious students; large, dull students; heavy-lidded students who looked as if they had nothing better to do. All of the bratty second-years signed up.
Warrington cast a desperate look across the room at Antigone, who was looking at her nails. The blonde girl glanced up. Instantly, Warrington was on his feet. He charged toward the scroll, scrawled his name down, and turned back to Antigone triumphantly. She was no longer watching.
Warrington's shoulders slumped; he retreated quietly to the boys' dorm.
Beth could hardly believe how fast it was happening. The common room was filling up with spies. If caught, anything the Society did could be interpreted as another underground attempt to destroy Umbridge, and then what? How were they to do anything, even to protect themselves, without being watched?
There was, of course, only one thing to do.
She marched up to the scroll and put down her name.
She scanned the rest of the list. There were some pretty good candidates on there, tough guys. Montague had signed up. Well, if it was bulk she wanted... Beth scrawled down her height beside her name. Then, as an afterthought, she put down her weight - lying, for the first and last time in her life, by twenty pounds on the plus side.
She had no sooner returned to the table than Melissa was at her shoulder, wide-eyed with bafflement.
"Are you mad?" hissed Melissa, close to her ear. "The Dark Lord's got his mark on you, and here you go signing up to be one of Umbridge's minions too! How many evil dictators do you think you can serve at once?"
"I'd rather be trying to serve her than hide from her," Beth snapped back. She was suddenly not sure why she had done it. "There's no way she'll pick me anyway. My father's not rich or famous and doesn't know anyone at the Ministry."
Melissa cast a worried glance at the list, and the still-lengthy queue of student volunteers.
"I'm almost grateful," she said.
Beth was shaken awake while the dormitory still lay in predawn darkness.
"Miss! Miss!"
Beth struggled to focus her eyes, feeling as if she were swimming to the surface of a murky river. The squeaky voice sounded familiar. "W-Wobbly?"
"Gilly, miss," came the reply. Beth blinked awake to find a wide-eyed house elf on her chest. It was clutching a piece of paper.
Beth took the paper and turned it three ways, squinting, before she was awake enough to make out the flowery handwriting.
Inquisitorial Squad. Report to the office of the
Headmistress at seven o'clock a.m. promptly.
"Thanks," said Beth groggily. The house elf bowed and vanished.
Headmistress, she thought, staggering out of bed. That's funny. Dumbledore's not a girl. She shuffled to the showers.
Only after she had dried off and wrapped her hair in a towel did she realize what the note had said.
"Headmistress," she said aloud.
Professor Umbridge had taken control of Hogwarts. It hadn't been just a strange dream. And she, Beth, had actually volunteered to join some sort of "enforcement squad," which was meeting at seven o'clock that morning.
Beth dressed and dried her hair hastily. Grabbing her knapsack, she hurried to the common room in time to meet Warrington and Montague coming from the other hallway. Montague tipped her an insolent nod; Warrington gave her a tired smile.
The three of them left and started down the hall to Umbridge's office. It wasn't long before other students started to catch up with them: Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, the inevitable Crabbe and Goyle. Close behind them strode Millicent Bulstrode, and another girl who Beth didn't know. She was as tall as Beth but heavier, with a strong and statuesque Germanic build. Her brown hair was pulled back in a smooth ponytail.
"Seven in the morning," the girl muttered wryly, shooting Beth a grin. "I never would've signed up if I'd known."
Beth couldn't help herself. "Why did you sign up?"
"My ex is a Hufflepuff," she said, stretching her arms above her head. "Revenge is gonna be sweet."
She introduced herself as Jeanne Thwaite, a sixth-year student. Beth found herself liking the girl more and more as they chatted. She sounded level-headed and intelligent; it was nice to know that Beth wouldn't be the only non-thug in the squad.
They reached Umbridge's office in a pack. The door was closed; Draco Malfoy took the initiative to knock.
"Do come in!"
The voice was frighteningly cheery, particularly for that time of the morning. Draco glanced back at them before creaking open the door.
Dolores Umbridge sat behind her desk, wearing a huge grin and her favorite cardigan. Her desk bore a new accessory: a polished wooden block bearing the word "HEADMISTRESS." Beth suspected she had made it herself. "Come along inside!" she chirped, and the Inquisitorial Squad shuffled in one by one. "Do shut the door, dear," she simpered at Jeanne, who did so.
As soon as the door was closed, Umbridge's face changed. It was like a light switch going off. Her simper turned sinister; she leaned forward over the desk like a newspaper editor, like a dictator.
"You will be patrolling the hallways," she said, not an inch of indecision in her voice. "You will be listening in on the conversations of students and teachers alike. You will be reading all incoming and outgoing mail. At the slightest hint, at the most miniscule sign of disloyalty to myself or the Ministry of Magic, you will report to me at once. You will be my eyes and ears in every classroom and hallway of my school."
So the Inquisitorial Squad was to be less of a bodyguard and more of a spy network. That was all right with Beth. She had her share of spy experience.
"Headmistress," Draco Malfoy ventured, "you mentioned extended privileges."
She smiled widely at the sound of her new title. "That I did, Mr. Malfoy. You will be encouraged to take house points and assign detentions to any ... troublemakers." Clearly her definition extended to malcontents and rabble-rousers as well. "Out of necessity, the school curfew will no longer apply to you."
She sat back at her desk, looking as pleased as a vampire in a blood bank. "Please report to my office this evening. We shall begin screening the owl post immediately." Her wide face became thoughtful. "We really ought to have some way of distinguishing the eight of you. Yes, I think we shall have to have some badges made up."
Draco Malfoy was able to recommend an excellent vendor.
The badges showed up near the end of the first class, borne by harried-looking house elves that vanished as soon as their burdens were relieved. The badges were small and silver, in the shape of an "I" which presumably stood for "Inquisitor" (Beth hoped that none of the other students would get creative on that point). She and Warrington pinned them to their sweaters while the rest of the class watched in slight awe.
Over break the first few students began to notice this new authority which had descended on the halls of Hogwarts; by the time Beth left her second class of the morning and started toward the Great Hall for lunch, people were actively moving out of her way - word had spread with traditional Hogwarts speed. As a Slytherin, Beth was used to the occasional sideways glance, but nothing had prepared her for a whole school full of them. She hurried to the company of her classmates as fast as she could go.
They had no sooner passed around the platter of sandwiches when the Great Hall was filled with the sound of a table-shaking explosion.
Bruce dropped the plate as the chair bucked under him; sandwiches went scattering across the table. He looked up at them, eyes wide. "What on earth-?"
The sound of smaller booms and crackles peppered the air, from far down the side hallway ... then, without warning, an enormous golden dragon made entirely of sparklers rocketed into the Great Hall, made a wide sweeping flight around the ceiling, and dove for the Slytherin table.
A Slytherin has no use for bravery when his life is at stake. The table scattered, shouts and yells almost lost amid the laughs from the other tables - which quickly turned to shrieks of their own as the sparkling dragon skimmed the table and circled back to dive-bomb the Gryffindors.
Beth climbed out from under the table, nerves shot, and watched as the dragon zipped out into the hallway. "What...?" was all she managed, as Bruce tugged Mervin out from under a chair and Melissa hastily patted her disheveled hair.
"I've gotta see this," Bruce breathed.
They dashed into the hall. Immediately, the extent of the chaos became clear. Sparklers, firecrackers and shimmering fireworks of all types ricocheted around the walls and reflected weird colors onto the ceiling. Students ran this way and that, protecting their heads with their hands. In the midst of it stood Professor Umbridge, jabbing her wand uselessly into the air, with Argus Filch nearby holding the smoking shaft of a broomstick.
Beth ducked behind Bruce before Umbridge could catch sight of her. "Let's get out of here," she muttered. "If the old bat sees me she'll want me to help..."
A smoking purple bat zinged in their direction and everyone in the hallway ducked.
"Come on!" hissed Melissa, and they joined the crowd in running from the deflagration.
The fireworks kept up throughout the afternoon. When the seventh-years met in the library after classes for their regular homework session, they found it no less chaotic than the hallways.
"I'm going to kill them," Melissa seethed, picking ashes out of her hair. "I'm going to kill the both of them." By now most of the school had a pretty good idea of who to blame for the disruption, although no one found it necessary to tell Umbridge.
"Get in line," snarled Bruce. He wetted his thumb and continued extinguishing the live embers that had alighted on his book cover when a Catherine wheel exploded.
Mervin ran past screaming, a blazing pink pig-shaped firecracker hot on his tail.
"This is ridiculous," said Beth, slamming her book shut. There was a commotion from the front of the library as one of the great golden dragons soared in the door and made for the Herbology section, with Madam Pince in frantic pursuit. "This is crazy. N.E.W.T.s are in eight weeks."
Mervin darted back to them and dove under the table. The pig-shaped firecracker zoomed past, hesitated in the aisle, and finally zipped away into the corridor. Mervin crept out of his hiding place and slumped into a seat beside them.
"Mervin, do something," Melissa ordered, pointing at the dragon circling the ceiling.
"Not me," said Mervin instantly. "I tried Banishing that one and it came after me."
"Mervin, you're the best jinxer of us all," Melissa wheedled, her impatience showing through the flattery. "Surely you can think of something."
"I..." Mervin bit his lip, thinking hard. "All right..." He raised his wand.
"Incendio!"
"Not that!" shrieked Melissa, but it was too late. The dragon burst into flame. It let out a wild roar, writhing in midair. Then it exploded. Clouds of soft gray ash rocketed out in all directions across the library.
"Hey!" said Mervin, ash drifting like snow onto his hair. "It went out!"
"Well done," said Bruce admiringly.
"You know what they say," grinned Mervin, "fight fire with..."
"Don't say it," snapped Melissa, brushing ash from her hair. She snatched a textbook from the table and held it open upside-down above her head. "All right. Now go on and get the rest."
Soon the library had been cleansed of fireworks; when the other students joined in, it took only a few minutes to catch all the loose sparklers, and Madam Pince slammed shut the door to prevent any further intrusions. A few scorch marks remained on the ceiling, and more than a few chairs had newly-charred patches, but the pandemonium had (mercifully) been vanquished.
"Ridiculous," said Bruce, heaving his charred knapsack onto his back. "I just hope they haven't got onto the Quidditch pitch. At least if they have, I'll know what to do..." He nodded his thanks to Mervin and left for practice.
"Can't you do something?" said Melissa, turning to Beth. "You've got that badge now, couldn't you - expel them or something?"
"You're the prefect," said Beth. She was unnerved by the idea that she had become one of the most powerful students in the school, literally overnight. "Both of you. You and Mervin could put them in detention for the rest of the year."
But Mervin had turned back to his books and was staring at an open page, apparently transfixed.
"Hey," he said, and both of them were startled at his tone. "Is this what you were talking about?"
The words on his page had melted into a message.
MIDNIGHT
Beth raised her head quickly and looked around the library. She caught sight of Kiesha Chambers two tables over. The girl winked, smiled, and returned to her studies.
"It's them," she said. She turned to Melissa. "Are we going to go?"
Melissa's lips were pursed. "Yes," she said at last. "At least, we'll hear what they have to say. With Dumbledore gone, we're going to need all the allies we can get."
Bruce returned to the common room just half an hour after he had left.
"Quick practice," Beth noted, glancing up at him.
"Didn't happen," said Bruce, pulling out a seat and propping his broomstick against the table. "Montague never showed up."
Mervin shot him a mildly interested glance. "Really? I thought he was a real slavedriver."
"He is, unless he's in a mood." Bruce frowned. "We reckoned he was either sick or throwing some sort of tantrum. Game isn't for three weeks, we'll just practice later this week."
"Splendid," said Melissa. She plunked a N.E.W.T.s primer in front of him. "Then you'll be able to review common tea leaf orientations with us before the meeting tonight."
"Meeting?" Bruce echoed, looking unhappily at the primer.
Beth let the two of them deal with tea leaves - she hadn't done any Divination since third year and had no intention of trying for her N.E.W.T., even if it was likely to be the easiest section. Sighing, she went on with her Herbology. The going had gotten easier, but Beth was loath to admit it - in fact, she hardly noticed it. Under the shadow of her dislike for the subject, she failed to realize how much she had improved.
By evening, however, they had all gotten sick of working, and sat around chatting until it was time for the reunion meeting with the Guild of the Eagle. All of the Society had been informed; many of them were skeptical of the Guild's intentions, but they agreed with Melissa that it was worth it to see what they wanted. By midnight Draco and Pansy still labored on in one corner - Beth had overheard that they were taking the O.W.L.s seriously - but it wasn't difficult for Mervin to knock them out for a few minutes while the Society crept out of the common room.
"They needed the sleep anyway," he whispered, as they reached the Entrance Hall. "Doing them a favor, really."
"You're just a brother of mercy," Beth told him, rolling her eyes, before stepping onto the enchanted floorwork and zooming up into the tower of the Guild of the Eagle.
When she popped into the library the Guild had been seated, calm; as soon as she took a step forward, however, she found many pairs of eyes trained angrily on her, and more than one wand pointed in her direction.
She raised both hands in surrender. "What is this?"
Michael Corner, one of the ones with his wand out, scowled at her. "You have some nerve, coming up here!"
Beth didn't know whether to yell at him or pity his crazed mind. "You invited us back!" she said impatiently.
"That was before we knew you had joined the Inquisitorial Squad," said Cho Chang from behind him, her voice grim.
"Oh." Beth looked down at the badge on her chest; she hadn't even realized she was still wearing it. She turned to the Ravenclaw chair, hands still in the air. "I joined the Inquisitorial Squad so that I could protect the Society's interests," she said carefully, trying not to sound too patronizing. "I can do the same for the Guild."
Deirdre did not look at all pleased; and for her, that was saying something. "How are we to trust you, with that badge on your chest?"
"This is crazy, I-" Beth broke off and took a deep breath. "If I was going to turn you in, I would have done it already to earn points with Umbridge."
The way to a Ravenclaw's heart is through his head. Beth's appeal to logic was enough to turn the sentiment of the Guild. "Good point," Michael Corner admitted, putting down his wand.
"I'm not going to tattle on you," Beth said, taking a seat (somewhat huffily) near Kiesha. "It's my neck too, you know. Anyway, if any of your secrets got out you'd probably know it was me and kill me."
"Probably," said Cova Lynn brightly.
"We'd send our perky little first-year hitwoman," Kiesha said, jerking a thumb at Cova Lynn, who beamed at her.
By that time most of the Society was through the floor and taking their old places in the tower. Melissa approached Deirdre's desk.
"Why did you invite us back?"
Deirdre seemed to catch the hint of a grudge in her bluntness, but remained composed. "The balance of power in the school has changed," she said. "Both of our groups are in the same position. Alliances are more important than ever. As your Secretary seems to have realized," she added, gesturing at Beth's silver "I" badge.
"I told you," said Beth, "I signed up so I could-"
"Understood," said Deridre shortly. She returned to Melissa. "You have assisted Dumbledore in the past, as have we. I think it is in the interest of both parties to support each other until he returns."
It had not occurred to Beth that Dumbledore would ever return to Hogwarts. "You're optimistic," said Melisss, her tone skeptical.
"Ollivander, I am a realist," said Deirdre firmly. "Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of this age. Dolores Jane Umbridge is most certainly not."
Melissa considered that. "All right," she said at last, leaning across the desk to shake Deirdre's hand. "Let's hope you're right."
She took a seat with the Society. Deirdre glanced around at them, as if sizing them all up, and said, "Then let me tell you where things stand. We have managed to learn exactly what happened to Dumbledore."
The Society was astounded. Melissa's jaw dropped. "How did you find out?"
"I heard something about Fudge getting a pumpkin for a head," said Oren, eyeing Deirdre skeptically. "Is that true?"
Deirdre ignored him. "Marietta Edgecombe was present. We performed a Recurrus charm on her."
"We trapped her in the bathroom!" Cova Lynn piped up.
"Our method isn't important," said Deirdre quickly. "Our results, however, are."
Melissa watched her closely. "What did you learn?"
Deirdre glanced over at Michael. "Corner, if you please."
Michael Corner unrolled the scroll. "It's in Dumbledore's office. Present are: Umbridge, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Potter; Minister Fudge; two unnamed persons, presumably Ministry workers, probably Aurors; Percy Weasley, taking notes. Marietta is brought into Dumbledore's office by Umbridge in order to testify about the D.A.; she won't speak."
"I don't blame her," somebody injected, "did you see her face?"
The meeting was recessed for a few minutes as everyone attempted at once to describe their impressions of Marietta Edgecomb's new skin complaint.
Deirdre permitted the interruption for a while before clearing her throat loudly. "Go on, Corner."
Michael glanced over at Cho as if to be sure she was watching; then he continued reading. "As Marietta won't say anything, Umbridge describes how she found out: a spy in the Hog's Head. Dumbledore reminds her that student organizations weren't illegal back then; she reminds him that they are now. But no one will admit that there have been any meetings since then. Umbridge goes nuts - grabs Marietta, she's shaking her-"
"That beastly woman," said Cho, her voice tight.
"Dumbledore stops her," Michael went on. "Umbridge says that Marietta told her about last night's meeting and that she went to catch the students but they scattered."
"Ahh, is that what happened?" snorted Anthony, who had been there.
"So I hear," retorted Michael, who had too. "Anyway, she got the list of names-"
"I always thought that was a stupid idea," Mervin muttered to Beth. She nodded slightly.
"-and when Dumbledore got a look at it, he took responsibility for the whole thing and insisted that this was to have been the first meeting, so none of us had actually broken the rules. He said we really were his army," he said, lowering the parchment and looking around at them gravely. "He took all the blame for us."
There was a moment of awed silence.
"What then?" popped in Cova Lynn brightly.
"Then Fudge made to arrest him, he Stunned the whole room and got away. Except," Michael added, with a meaningful look at Deirdre, "McGonagall, Potter, and Marietta hit the dirt before the spell went off. They had a chat of some sort - we don't know what - and then Dumbledore took off with his pet phoenix."
"And he has not been seen since," Deirdre finished, looking displeased. "Well, worse could have happened; if they had convicted our D.A. students and thought to use Veritaserum, the Guild could have easily been revealed. Your secrets could have gone with it," she added to Melissa.
Beth shuddered. The Society kept more secrets than the Guild knew.
"In Dumbledore's absence we are left to make the best of things." Deirdre remained remarkably calm despite the enormity of the situation. "Which, of course, is why we have brought the Society back into our confidence. Your prefects can help to protect us both; you can help keep Professor Umbridge under check, or at least under surveillance. Cho, Michael, and Anthony - it will be best for all if you avoid our new Headmistress as much as possible." Cho nodded in fervent agreement. "The rest of you will continue to do what you can to learn of her motives and ultimate goals."
"That's easy," said Michael gloomily. "She wants to rule the world."
"Then focus on the short-term," Deirdre shot back. "You," she said, turning to the Society, "seem to be her favored house. I trust that you yourselves are aware of how powerful your position can be. In particular, Parson, we would appreciate if you directed attention away from the Guild."
"No problem," said Beth. "In fact, we're going to have to start reading all incoming and outgoing mail. I'll sign up for Ravenclaw and let yours through."
"We are greatly obliged," said Deirdre, and she actually looked like she meant it. "That is all we can do for the moment. I expect our groups to share information about the whereabouts of Dumbledore, should they ever be known," she said to Melissa, who nodded.
"It makes me so mad," said Cho Chang, and her fists were actually clenched. "None of this would have happened if Granger hadn't made us sign that stupid membership list. They would never have known what we were up to and Dumbledore would never have had to leave."
It was true, Beth realized. The implications were staggering. If a simple list of membership could do so much damage, how much more damning was the Ledger?
Beth shuddered and hoped, for the thousandth time that year, that Richard was being very careful.
Montague failed to turn up for breakfast; in fact, Herne reported that he had never come to bed at all.
"And Evan put a curse on the door," he added, "so we would have known."
"He's off sulking," Bruce said dismissively, piling sausages onto his plate.
Melissa lowered her voice. "Aren't you a bit worried? There are Death Eaters out there now!"
Beth did not feel inclined to point out that there had, in fact, been Death Eaters inside the school since September, and in fact for many years previous.
"Honestly. Why would a Death Eater break into Hogwarts and kidnap Montague? It's Potter they'll want." Bruce downed another sausage, looking quite unconcerned. "If anything, Montague's run off and joined them. He'll be back by the Hufflepuff game."
Beth thought he was probably right, but thought it was strange that the Quidditch captain had taken to not turning up so suddenly.
Most of the fireworks had burnt out overnight, but the attack had ignited some latent force within the school - suddenly everyone wanted to be a prankster on par with the Weasley twins. Beth smelled more Dungbombs that day than in the previous three years combined. While nothing came close to the scale of the fireworks attack, Beth saw portraits turned wrong-side-up, suits of armor enchanted into doing popular dances, Gobstones in the halls, and was nearly decapitated by a fanged Frisbee (that infraction prompted her to use her powers as an Inquisitor for the first time; she had to admit that taking twenty points from a cowering first-year had a certain appeal).
She was not the only one making use of her newfound authority. The Inquisitorial Squad had brought out the worst in Warrington. Not since he had put his name in the Goblet of Fire had he been the recipient of such awe and respect. He took points from everybody. No one was surprised when he failed to show up for Charms one day, having been hexed in the hallways between class.
"Skin like tree bark," Aaron elaborated, wide-eyed. "Like scales. Bloody horrible."
Being on the Squad had unexpected effects on Beth as well. She was used to being ignored, or mildly disliked for the green patch on her robes; now she was looked upon with fear, anger and even revulsion. She had not anticipated the way that people would turn away and conversations break up when she passed.
"They keep watching me," she muttered to Melissa, one day in the library after dinner.
"Who?" Melissa inquired, not taking her eyes from her textbook.
"Everybody." Beth turned her head to the right and a cluster of Hufflepuffs hastily lowered their heads; to the left, and an Astronomy study group lowered their voices.
"Well you ought to have expected that," said Melissa, infuriatingly calm. "They do it to me sometimes, and I'm just a prefect."
"I've hardly taken points from anybody. I really don't care. I wish they would all just keep to themselves and stop looking at me."
"You could take points from them if they look at you," Melissa suggested, licking her thumb and flipping to the next page of her textbook.
Beth's face fell. "Melissa, you are missing the point."
Hard and angry footsteps caused them both to look up. Cho Chang, holding a textbook close to her chest, red-faced with fury, stormed through the library with Kiesha Chambers close behind her. She looked all around the library, but didn't seem to find a group that she wanted to join - finally, to everyone's surprise, she stormed over to throw herself into a chair across from Melissa and Beth.
"I do not," said Cho to Melissa, "believe the nerve of that boy."
Melissa cast Kiesha a half-curious, half-wary sort of look. Potter, Kiesha mouthed back, and Melissa nodded with relief before turning back to Cho.
"What's he done now?"
"Other than making me furious? Only demonized my best friend is all. The little twit - I really should know not to trust younger men-"
That would have been funny if not for the vehemence with which she said it.
"Voice down," Kiesha cautioned, "Pince is looking at you funny."
"Bugger Pince," said Cho, though she lowered her voice nonetheless. "All right, Marietta ratted out the D.A.," she said, addressing Beth and Melissa. "I know it, everybody knows it. But she didn't mean to - to have Dumbledore arrested or anything, or even to have us all in trouble - Potter just won't see that she's really not some horrible hag - although now she looks it thanks to that wretch - and I tried to apologize and he just - he threw it in my face!" Cho's face was red. "I've never been so angry. He didn't bother to listen to me at all - he wouldn't give Marietta the least little chance-"
"So ... that's it for you and Potter," said Kiesha.
"That is it," said Cho ferociously, "for me and Potter." She plunged into an empty chair and threw open her textbook.
The Slytherins exchanged glances.
"Well," said Melissa at last. "That's a relief."
Cho stared at her.
"Right," Beth chimed in. "You can do better than Potter."
"We were afraid you'd get together and we'd have to pretend to like him," Melissa added.
"We were thinking about breaking away from the Guild again," said Beth, with utter sincerity.
Cho looked from one to the other. Then, almost unexpectedly, she broke into laughter. "You are all evil!" Her laughter was so genuine, so full of relief, Kiesha began chuckling just to hear it; then the four of them were all joining in together, giggling, leaning on each other, their books forgotten before them.
Just then Herne burst into the library and dashed to their table. His usually ruddy face was quite pale.
"They found Montague!"
Half of Slytherin house gathered around the cot in the infirmary wing.
"What's wrong with him?" rumbled Warrington, looking highly troubled.
"Has he said anything?" Aaron muttered to Melissa, who shook her head gravely.
"I'm not sure he can say anything," she whispered back.
Madam Pomfrey bustled through them, bearing a tray with several potions and a cold compress. She shouldered in between Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, looking both vexed and worried.
"Where was he?" Bruce spoke up. He sounded more composed than Beth would have expected.
"In a fourth-floor toilet," Madam Pomfrey said bitterly, "though lord knows how he got there. He's in no fit shape to tell us."
Montague's eyes were wide open, fixed on the ceiling. His mouth was slack. Lying there, helpless and shameless, occasionally giving a twitch that was more like a flinch, he suddenly looked more real - more human - than ever. His vulnerability was unsettling. Beth looked away.
"Madam Pomfrey, is it possible that my student could be left in peace?"
Professor Snape loomed up from behind them, with Draco Malfoy hovering proudly nearby. He made his way through the crowd (which parted for him) and bent over Montague. He snapped upright quickly.
"What's wrong with the boy?" he said crisply, to Madam Pomfrey.
"Nothing physically," said Madam Pomfrey, leaning over to put a wet cloth on Montague's head. The boy flinched away slightly at her touch. "But he's more than addled. It's like a waking coma."
Professor Snape looked down at Montague's lax face for a moment, then turned and glared around at the assembled crowd. "Back to the common room, all of you." There was no room in his tone for arguing; no one had the heart for it anyway. "You'll be told at once if there is the slightest change. As of now you are merely in the way. Be off."
The Slytherins turned and began to leave the infirmary ... down to the dungeons, the windowless dormitories and stone walls which housed them, but had failed to protect one of their own.
The attack on Montague brought home something that Beth hadn't really considered - she knew that joining the Inquisitorial Squad was going to make her unpopular but she had no idea that it might put her in serious physical danger. She decided to keep as low a profile as possible, and not give out punishments unless it was absolutely unavoidable.
The problem was, it was extremely hard not to do her job. Everywhere she went, there would be clusters of students whispering together, giving her the evil eye, or even discussing Umbridge in a less than discreet manner. Those groups generally didn't notice her until she walked up, tapped one on the shoulder and said, "Five points. For heavens' sake don't talk so loud."
Then she would leave before they had a chance to decide whether or not to hex her.
A couple of days after Montague turned up, Beth was having a quiet breakfast and trying to keep her Inquisitorial Squad badge hidden when Draco Malfoy strolled up to her. Without pretense or greeting, he held out what looked like a tube of toothpaste.
"A gift for a colleague."
Warily, Beth took the tube and looked it over. The metallic tube was painted white and lettered in bold blue.
Effective against incidental curses, hexes and jinxes
50 blockage of indirect spells
Not intended for use in duels or spell-heavy environments
WARNING: REDUCES EFFECTIVENESS OF PROTECTIVE SPELLS
AND CHARMS. USE AT YOUR OWN RISK
"I had my father send it in," said Draco smugly. "Umbridge reckons we all ought to use it. In case whoever got Montague tries it again. Oh no, keep it," he demurred, when Beth tried to had it back. "Father sent a whole case."
"All right ... thanks," said Beth, looking down at the tube.
"Don't mention it," said Draco, with a we're-all-in-this-together type of smirk. He sauntered back to his classmates.
Beth gazed down at the tube in her hand, shaking her head. "Spell Screen," she said aloud. Never in all her years had she imagined that she would ever need such a thing just to walk the halls.
Well, times had changed. Before class she ducked into the girls' room and rubbed it all over her face and arms. It couldn't hurt to be prepared.
