„Good morning, class."
An icy silence greeted the headmistress. Saturday night before, rumor had it that Dumbledore had visited the grounds and been attacked by a hoard of centaurs, suffering severe injury and making a very narrow escape. She had a pretty good idea of who started the rumors, but considered it wise to only voice them to Harry or Ron soon as they were back in the common room. At lunch, Hermione suppressed the urge to snort on the idiots who believed them for a second: As if anyone had been able to watch a duel between the centaurs and Dumbledore, and leave unharmed to tell the tale. Their effect was palpable among students nonetheless: Sundays' conversations drowned in speculations about what Dumbledore might have been searching in the Forbidden Forest. Some, like Ernie Macmillan, even engaged in ill-advised, over-confident speech of how Dumbledore certainly planned to take back the school with a secret weapon, probably hidden in the Forest, and deal with Umbridge and the Ministry next in line.
"I do appreciate that you miss our meetings", Hermione tried to calm him down before Potions class on Monday, "But you'd make it a hell lot easier for all of us if you did not understand 'Dumbledore's Army' quite so literally."
"I am not afraid to show whom my loyalties lie with", the Hufflepuff replied, actually bolstering his chest, if only for close bystanders to see. She dared not to badger him further, since Crabbe had sneaked up on them and overheard his pronouncement. Their muffled conversation and his statement turned out to be enough to earn him an appointment with Umbridge. From that point onward, Hannah Abbott was keen to end every conversation among Hufflepuffs whenever one of the former DA members approached.
Umbridge's voice called her back to present.
"Good morning, students", she repeated, dangerously sweet.
When no one greeted her, she nodded toward Malfoy, who sat first in line at the wall, obviously in charge of the squad for today. Members of the Inquisitorial squad were allowed to take seats at the side wall in Umbridge's classroom and sit within arm's length, providing them with a perfect opportunity to watch their classmates every move, who had to stay in stiff seats facing Umbridge at the front. No obligations for required reading, which was still Slinkhard's dry on overlong essay, applied to them, either. As one of them had pulled his book from his bag and started to read, whether because he was interested in the text or simply out of habit, Goyle rushed to ensure he directed his attention back to their preferred group activity: Mocking and teasing Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs alike, ostentatiously overlooked by the headmistress.
When Umbridge gave her small nod to Malfoy, he rose from his stuffed chair, took a stiff posture and the other members followed his lead.
"Good morning, students", Umbridge addressed him.
"Good morning, headmistress", the Squad shouted back in unison. Their reply rushed over their heads, milling down every hope of impressing her with a subversive non-compliant action, however faint.
"You may be seated."
Hermione wondered whether the simultaneous movements had been discussed with members of the Squad previously, or if they were, each of them, destined to follow orders, their performance a result of their unconscionable desire to abandon individual expression. She felt their voices' punch in her ears long after the echo had dissolved.
"Wands away."
A few students, not all of them former DA-members, had made it a habit of placing their wand on their desk at the beginning of each lesson. None of them expected to perform with it, least in Umbridge's class, but it had become an important gesture: It reminded them, and all fellow comrades, of lessons which deserved to be labeled 'Defense against the Dark Arts'. However, they did not hide in denial of their circumstances: Umbridge's command made them stuck their wands back into their pockets.
"As High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry", Umbridge began in her eerily sweet voice, "It has been my pleasure to evaluate traditional and habitual forms of accumulating competencies in your magical training, and implement qualitatively high standards in your educational process effectively."
One way to put it, Hermione commented silently. What were the requirements for the position of High Inquisitor, anyway? Fluent in bureaucratic?
"In order to enhance your ability to reflect upon the risk-free, legal and therefore only proper application of practical magic the Ministry has decided ..."
Save us the bullshit, Hermione caught herself thinking, Get to the point.
"... to open the syllabus to another area of research, since all valuable subjects need to be included in a holistic and sophisticated approach to the issue at hand. The sole aim of your education must be to enable you to provide straight, logic reasoning for your actions and inactions. We will therefore postpone the lecture of Mr Slinkhard's book today."
This can't be good.
"Instead, the topic for your intense and dedicated seatwork will be Mr Breithaupt's deliberations on the Dark Sides of Empathy. Start on page one hundred forty-nine. Answer the questions as on the board -", where they appeared with a flick of her wand, "And hand them in by Monday evening in a fortnight. One and a half roll of parchment. There will be no need to talk."
Most of the students managed to refrain from groaning: Flitwick had given them an intensive schedule for revision, which most of them were barely catching up with. Examining the neatly written leading questions diminished her slim hopes for a packed, but manageable weekend of rehearsals.
1st Outline the basic architecture of empathy and explain the process of 'radicalization of morality' by fictional conflict (p. 79).
2nd Explain the role of empathy in the Paradox of Tragic Events (Aesthetic Theory).
3rd Provide reasons for its misplacement in punishment.
Oh dear, Hermione dared not to swear audibly, This cannot be happening. She quickly skimmed over her notes of Umbridge's speech, revising the key elements.
"Provide you with logical reasoning for your inaction."
By definition, she recalled, logic cannot be measured against moral standards.
"Misplacement of empathy in punishment."
I can imagine what she has in mind as accurate conclusion, Hermione lumped to herself.
Yet seeing not a slim chance to negotiate the requirements, she summoned a copy of Breithaupts book from the pile behind Umbridge's desk and started to read.
"What was that all about?", Ron required at dinner, predictably. "I mean – did she just encourage us to beat up first years when they're arguing about who starts in the next round of Gobstone?"
"Accurately summarized", Harry threw in between a frown and steaming Chili.
"Five points to Gryffindor", Hermione added, relieved to see both smile. Ever since Prefects were no longer allowed to take points from students, they threw around credits if those meant nothing any more. And perhaps they did.
"So, casting aside this is the first 'E' for me this week", Ron went on, "What does she expect us to hand in in these essays? She can't seriously demand that we puke up almost two rolls of parchment on how students must learn their rightful place?"
"She's probably referring to half-bloods, I guess", Harry answered, shrugging. His casual demeanor did not deceive her: He was furious, certainly thinking of Lupin or Hagrid.
"Or to you", she said, carefully casting a glance up and downward the table. Half a dozen seats were empty.
"To me?"
"Yes. Remember what she forced you to do with your hand?"
He gave an indistinguishable sound, half a groan and a cough.
"I'm positive she got her rationalizations from Breithaupt", she said bitterly. "It's a horrible concept."
"Despicable", Ron agreed quickly, "Hermione, would you mind handing me this tart?"
"I mean", she resumed impatiently, "Treating people with blunt force is one thing, but honestly believing that there were any valid explanations, any substantial reasons in it-"
"Well, if moral was immanent to magic, there'd be no Unforgivable Curses, wouldn't it?", Harry commented flatly, "So no reason for wizards to feel on the high ground compared to anyone else. We're just as bad to the bone as muggles, or half-bloods, or whatever sentient being on earth."
"You're not planning to put that in your essay, are you?", Ron teased him.
"I very well might", Harry shot back, but grinning. She would never understand how they could make fun on such serious issues. "I'll fail to meet the requirements whatever I hand in, so why not?"
"Because she'll make you use that awful quill of hers to force you cut 'I shall not show empathy' into your other hand", Hermione slapped down their cherish mood, "And celebrate that she's given you yet another scar, after she's hung up on the moronic idea -"
"Are you certain you wish to finish that sentence, Granger?"
Malfoy had appeared behind her, quick and unseen as if he had just lifted a Disillusionment Charm from himself.
"What is it?", Harry snapped.
"I'll deal with you later, Potter", the handsome Slytherin sneered, "So far, I haven't heard anything … interestingly enough to take you in. Right now, I have more important matters to attend to." Satisfied, Hermione watched her friends exchange looks as if they just deemed Malfoy an useful idiot, but were not seriously annoyed. Half a year ago, Harry might have blown up on such lame provocation.
"Professor Snape wants to see you, Granger", Malfoy announced.
"Potions is scheduled on Mondays for fifth years, so five points to Slytherin", she snorted at him, hoping that no one at the table heard her heart hammer against her chest, "But we're done since third period ended."
"I did not say he wanted to see you immediately", he shot back. "Or tonight." She had been expecting his piercing gaze directly into her eyes, and withstood it, mind emptied of all unwelcome thoughts. "He has asked that you appear early on Monday, before class."
"I am supposed to skip lunch and help him with his potion? He's my teacher, shouldn't he be able to stir and shake his drinks on his own?"
"It's not a question, Granger", Malfoy growled, keeping a stiff upper lip. Obviously he had hoped for a more telling response. "Just show up."
Perhaps he considered it might damage the authoritative impression he might have made in his mind. Malfoy turned and vanished as quickly as he had shown up.
"What's this all about?", Harry inquired, obviously intrigued. "Before class? If he wants to put you in detention again for whatever, wouldn't you be asked to stay after a lesson?"
"I have no idea", Hermione lied.