disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella and her story. I hope you all like this chapter!

The Hogwarts High Inquisitor

"How was practice?" Hermione asked icily.

Harry and Ron managed to catch up with Arabella as the three of them climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was sitting in front of the fireplace, her Ancient Runes homework in front of her.

"It was –" began Harry.

"Completely lousy," Ron said in a hollow voice, sinking into a chair beside Hermione.

Hermione's coldness immediately disappeared as she looked up at Ron. "Well," she began in a soothing voice, "it was only your first one, it's bound to take time to –"

"Who said it was me who made it lousy?" snapped Ron.

"No on," Hermione said, taken back, "I thought –"

"You though I was bound to be rubbish?"

"No, of course I didn't! Look, you said it was lousy, so I just –"

"I'm going to get started on some homework," Ron said angrily, stomping off towards the boys' dormitories and vanishing from sight.

"Was he lousy?" Hermione asked Arabella and Harry.

"No," Harry said loyally.

"What's done is done," mumbled Arabella, heading upstairs to get her homework.

Arabella spent most of her Saturday and Sunday in the common room, burying her head in her books as the room around her emptied. Most of the Gryffindors spent the day out in the sunny grounds. She finished McGonagall's long essay on the Inanimatus Conjurus spell and finally began working on Sinistra's long and difficult essay about Jupiter's moons. She was doing better than Harry and Ron. Both of them didn't get much done on Saturday, as they both were too preoccupied talking about their bad Quidditch practice. Hermione, however, was enjoying her Sunday. She was sitting with Crookshanks on her lap and chatting merrily with Ginny. Arabella envied her as she opened her book and began reading from the beginning.

As she continued to work, the sky outside became darker. It was sure to be the last sunshine of the year.

"Nearly done?" said Hermione, wandering over and yawning.

Arabella checked her watch. It was half-past eleven and she was almost done with her essay.

"No," Ron said shortly.

"Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto," said Hermione, point over Ron's shoulder, "and it's Io that's got the volcanos."

"Thanks," Ron said through gritted teeth, scratching out the sentence.

"Sorry, I only –"

"Yeah, well, if you've just come here to criticize –"

"Ron –"

"I haven't got time to listen to a sermon, all right, Hermione, I'm up to my neck in it here –"

"No – look!"

Hermione was pointing at the nearest window. They all looked over. A screech owl was standing on the windowsill, gazing into the room at Ron.

"Isn't that Hermes?" said Hermione, amazed.

"Blimey, it is! What's Percy writing to me for?"

Ron threw down his quill, got to his feet, and opened the window. Hermes flew inside, landed on top of Ron's essay, and held out a leg to which a letter was attached. Ron took it off and Hermes departed immediately. On the outside of the scroll were the words: To Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts.

"That's definitely Percy's handwriting," said Ron. "What d'you reckon?"

"Open it!" Hermione said eagerly.

Ron unrolled the scroll and began to read. A scowl appeared on his face and it deepened the more he continued to read. He looked completely and utterly disgusted as he thrusted the letter towards Arabella, Harry and Hermione.

Dear Ron,

I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister of Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect.

I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must offer my congratulations. I must admit that I had been afraid that you would take what we called the "Fred and George" route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility.

But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron. I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions.

From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are mow a prefect, I gather you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter and that Black girl. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge than continued fraternization with those two. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this – no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favorite – but I fell bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different – and probably more accurate – view of those two's behaviour. I shall say no more, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing – and see if you can spot yours truly!

Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very dangerous to your future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school as well. Not to mention that Black girl. If you have been keeping up with the Daily Prophet, you will know that she had not been viewed in the best light, both her and her family. Some believe that she is in contact with her father and Bellatrix Lestrange. You will do well to stay away from her before you get caught in the crossfires, Ron.

It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with those two – I know that Potter can be unbalanced, and Black is obviously violent – but if you have any worries about this or have spotted anything else in their behaviour that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a really delightful woman, who I know will be only too happy to advise you.

This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him, but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that so far Professor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week – again, see the Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this – a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years!

I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (if you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders.) I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people – the Minister really could not be more gracious to me – and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions either. I sincerely hope that, in time they will realize how mistaken they were and I shall, of course be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes.

Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter and the Black girl. Congratulations again on becoming prefect!

Your brother, Percy.

"Does he even know what my first name is?" Arabella asked aloud to the others. "I mean, I've stayed over, he has to know at this point!"

"Well," said Harry, laughing a little, "if you want to – er – what is it? Oh yeah – 'sever ties' with us, I swear I won't get violent, Ron, but I can't speak for Arabella."

"Oh, I'll curse you," Arabella said in a heartbeat. "After all, I am very violent."

"Give it back," Ron said roughly. "He is the world's biggest git." He tore up Percy's letter and threw it into the fire. "Come on, we've got to get this finished some time before dawn."

He pulled Sinistra's essay towards him. Hermione was looking at Ron with an odd expression on her face. It was almost in fondness.

"Oh, give them here," she said abruptly.

"What?" said Ron.

"Give them to me, I'll look through them and correct them."

"Are you serious?" said Ron. "Ah, Hermione, you're a lifesaver, what can I –?"

"What you can say is, 'We promise we'll never leave our homework this late again'."

She looked amused as Ron, Arabella and Harry passed their essays over. Arabella sunk lower into her chair and rubbed her eyes. It was well past midnight and the common room was now deserted, save for the four of them. Nobody spoke as Hermione looked over their essays, scratching out sentences and making corrections. Arabella was exhausted, but her mind was racing. She knew what people thought of her and she knew what she thought of herself. Percy's letter was nothing new and not surprising one bit. She had never gotten along with Percy. He was her least favourite Weasley. But she had stayed in his house during the summers and shared a tent with him during the Quidditch World Cup. He even once helped her, Harry, Ron and Ginny with pranking the twins one summer. Now he's comparing her to Bellatrix Lestrange and saying that they were in contact.

She then thought of Remus and Sirius, both of them ostracised by the Wizarding world for being too dangerous. They thought of Remus as a savage beast, when he is nothing of the sort, and that Sirius was a dangerous criminal and a great Voldemort supporter. She felt terrible and she knew that both of them would understand how she's feeling at the moment.

"Harry, what are you doing down there?" Ron said suddenly.

Arabella snapped out of her trance and looked at Harry, who was crouching by the fireplace, glazing into the flames.

"I think I've just seen Sirius's head in the fire," said Harry calmly.

"His head?" said Arabella. "Like last year during the Triwizard Tournament – Dad!"

She gasped and scrambled closer to the fire. Ron dropped his quill and Hermione gawked. In the middle of the dancing flames sat Sirius's head, long hair falling around his grinning face.

"I was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyone else had disappeared," he said. "I've been checking every hour."

"You've been popping into the fire every hour?" Harry said, half laughing.

"Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear yet."

"But what if you'd been seen?" said Hermione anxiously.

"Well, I think a girl might've got a glimpse of me earlier, but don't worry," said Sirius hastily, as Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. "I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I'll bet she just thought I was an oddly shaped log or something."

"But Sirius, this is taking an awful risk –"

"You sound like Molly," said Sirius. "This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's letter without resorting to a code – and codes are breakable."

At the mention of Harry's letter, Hermione and Ron had both turned to stare at him.

"You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!" said Hermione accusingly.

"Bigger picture, Hermione," Arabella said quickly. "Anyway, we'd better be quick, just in case we're interrupted."

"Exactly," said Sirius, smiling. "Harry, your scar. Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don't think it's anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?"

"Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion. So maybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night I had that detention."

"Well, now he's back it's bound to hurt more often," said Sirius.

"So, you don't think it had anything to do with Umbridge touching me when I was in detention with her?" Harry asked.

"I doubt it," said Sirius. "I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater –"

"You sure about that?" Arabella said darkly, snorting. Hermione nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters," said Sirius with a wary smile. "I know she's s nasty piece of work, thought – you should hear Remus talk about her. He went on and on again after you mentioned her in your letter."

"How does Remus know her?" Arabella asked quickly.

Sirius blinked at her, and then slowly said, "Don't you remember? She was the one who drafted that werewolf legislation with Theodore Guthrie two years ago. They've both made it nearly impossible for him to get a job."

Arabella went rigid. She had almost forgotten about that article. It came out a couple years ago, after Remus had been outed by Snape and was forced to resigned from his job at Hogwarts. As for Theodore Guthrie… she hated the man with every fiber of her being. It did not surprise her to hear that they were good friends.

"What's she got against werewolves?" said Hermione angrily.

"Scared of them, I expect," said Sirius. "Apparently she loathes part-humans. She campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose –"

Ron laughed, but Hermione looked upset.

"Sirius!" she said disapprovingly. "Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher I'm sure he'd respond, after all, you two" – she looked meaningfully at Arabella –"are the only two members of his family he's got left, and Professor Dumbledore said –"

"So, what are Umbridge's lessons like?" interrupted Sirius. "From what we've gathered from Arabella's letter, she sounds like a nightmare."

"She's not letting us use magic," Arabella said quickly. "We just sit there reading out of this useless book and take notes. There's no magic involved at all."

"Ah, well, that figures. Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."

"Trained in combat?" exclaimed Harry. "What does he think we're doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?"

"That's exactly what he thinks you're doing," said Sirius, "or rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing – forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic."

Silence followed Sirius's statement, and then Ron said, "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, including all the stuff that Luna Lovegood comes out with."

Hermione was furious. "So, we're being prevented from learning Defense Against the Dark Arts because Fudge is scared we'll use spells against the Ministry?"

"Yup," said Sirius. "Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge."

"D'you know if there's going to be anything about Dumbledore in the Daily Prophet tomorrow?" said Harry. "Only Ron's brother Percy reckons there will be –"

"I don't know. I've barely seen anyone from the Order all weekend, except for Remus. They're all busy…"

"So, you haven't had any news about Hagrid, either?" asked Harry.

"Ah… well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure what's happened to him. But Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you four go get yourselves in a state. I'm sure Hagrid's fine."

"But if he was supposed to be back by now…" said Hermione.

"Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home – but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or – well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly okay. Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid, it'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back, and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be okay." And when they did not appear cheered by this, Sirius added, "When's your next Hogsmeade weekend anyway? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could –"

"No!" Arabella said instantly. "Did you not see the Daily Prophet?"

"Oh that," said Sirius, grinning, "they're always guessing where I am they haven't really got a clue –"

"Yeah, but we think this time they have," said Harry. "Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knew it was young, and his father was likely on the platform, Sirius, so don't come up here, whatever you do, if Malfoy recognizes you again –"

"All right, all right, I've got the point," said Sirius, sounding displeased. "Just an idea, thought you might like to get together –"

"Of course, we would," said Arabella. "We just don't want you to get thrown back into Azkaban."

There was a small pause in which Sirius stared out of the fire at Arabella and Harry, shifting his eyes between the two.

"The risk would have made it fun for James and Kassandra," he said coldly. "You're less like them than I thought."

"Look –"

"Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs," said Sirius, but Arabella knew he was lying. "I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?"

There was a tiny pop, and the place where Sirius's head had been was now flickering flames once more.

The next morning Hermione's Daily Prophet landed on of the milk jug. They though that they would have to comb through the entire paper to find the article, but instead it was plastered on the front page. There was a large photo of Umbridge smiling widely underneath the words:

MINISTRY SEELS EDUCATION REFORM
DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"

"'High Inquisitor'?" Harry said darkly. "What does that mean?"

Hermione began reading out-loud:

"In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"The Ministry has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time," said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. "He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve."

This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.

"That is how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts," said Weasley last night. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she's been an immediate success –"

"She's been a WHAT?" said Harry loudly.

"Wait, there's more," said Hermione grimly.

" – an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts."

It is this last function that the Ministry has not formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor.

"This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the 'Falling standards' at Hogwarts," said Weasley. "The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted."

The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.

"I feel much easier in my mind that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation," said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. "Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation."

Among these 'eccentric decisions' are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts.

"I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence," said a Ministry insider last night.

Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts.

"Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office," said Madam Marchbanks. "This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore." (For a full account of Madam Marchbank's alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17).

Hermione finished reading, looking thoroughly disgusted. "So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this 'Education Decree' and forced her on us! And now he's given her the power to inspect other teachers! I can't believe this. It's outrageous…"

"I know it is," said Harry.

But there was a grin forming on Ron's face.

"What are you smiling about?" snapped Arabella, absentmindedly scratching the back of her hand.

"Oh, I just can't wait to see McGonagall inspected," Ron said happily. "Umbridge won't know what's hit her."

After breakfast, they made their way towards their History of Magic lesson. Umbridge was not inspecting their dull class, and she was not in their double Potions class. Snape handed back their moonstone essays and Arabella earned a black A scrawled in the corner.

"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your O.W.L.," drawled Snape with a smirk. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination. The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those duces who get D's."

Arabella slid her moonstone essay back into her bag and began working on the Strengthening Solution. The instructions were already on the blackboard and by the time the lesson was over, her solution was a clear turquoise. She delivered her flash to Snape's desk with a self-satisfied smile and headed off for lunch.

"Well, that wasn't as bad as last week, was it?" said Hermione. "And the homework didn't go too badly either, did it?" When no one answered, she pressed on, "I mean, all right, I didn't expect the top grade, not if he's marking to O.W.L. standard, but a pass is quite encouraging at this stage, wouldn't you say?"

Harry made a noncommittal noise in his throat as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Of course," continued Hermione, "a lot can happen between now and the exam, we've got plenty of time to improve –"

"I got an A," said Arabella, rolling her eyes. "There – happy?"

"Oh, well, that's fantastic! The grades we're getting now are a sort of baseline, aren't they? Something we can build on – obviously, I'd have been thrilled if I'd gotten an O –"

"I got a P," snipped Ron. "All right?"

"Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of," said Fred, sitting down beside Arabella with George and Lee. "Nothing wrong with a good healthy P."

"But," said Hermione, "doesn't P stand for…"

"'Poor,' yeah," said Lee. "Still, better than D, isn't it? 'Dreadful'?"

Arabella noticed Harry's face turn red as he coughed a bit.

"So top grade's O for 'Outstanding'," said Hermione, "and then there's A –"

"No," said Arabella, shaking her head, "there's E for 'Exceeds Expectations'."

"I've always thought Fred and I should've got E in everything," said George, "because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for the exams."

They all laughed, except for Hermione, who plowed on, "So after E, it's A for 'Acceptable,' and that's the last pass grade, isn't it?"

"Yep," said Fred, swallowing an entire roll whole.

"Then you get P for 'Poor'," said Ron, raising his hand in mock celebration, "and D for 'Dreadful'."

"And then T," said George.

"T?" said Hermione, looking appalled. "Even lower than a D? What on earth does that stand for?"

"'Troll'."

Harry laughed at George's declaration.

They spent the rest of lunch wondering what Umbridge's inspections would look like. Fred, George and Lee had already witnessed the woman in action in Charms. But they were all very sure that Flitwick would pass with flying colours. He was always courteous and usually got everyone through their exams. It just seemed like Umbridge sat in the corner taking notes and asking some students a couple questions. Arabella did not see this happening in all her classes. Surely Umbridge would overstep the line with someone.

She didn't have to wait until Defense Against the Dark Arts to see Umbridge. She was pulling out her dream diary when Neville nudged her and pointed at the trapdoor. Umbridge emerged through it and the whole class fell silent. The abruptness made Trelawney turn around at once, a pile of Dream Oracle textbooks in her arms.

"Good afternoon, Professor Trelawney," said Umbridge, smiling widely. "You received my note, I trust? Giving the time and date of your inspection?"

Trelawney nodded curtly, looking displeased at Umbridge's appearance. She continued to hand out books as Umbridge dragged the nearest armchair behind Trelawney's seat in front of the class. She sat down, took out a clipboard, and looked up expectantly, waiting for the class to being.

"We shall be continuing our study of prophetic dreams today," Trelawney said in an attempt of a brave voice. "Divide into pairs, please, and interpret each other's latest nighttime visions with the aid of the Oracle."

She pulled her shawl tightly around her and swept towards Parvati and Lavender, her two best students. Arabella opened her copy of The Dream Oracle as Neville began talking animatedly about some sort of dream where he's a mummy. She was barely listening, instead watching Umbridge stealthily. She was making notes on her clipboard and got to her feet and began pacing the room in Trelawney's wake. She listened in on her conversations with students and asked some questions here and there.

"Okay, so, um," Arabella said hastily, "we've got to add your age to the number of letters in the subject, and – er – when did you have this dream, Neville?"

"Two night ago," said Neville.

Umbridge and Trelawney were now a table away from them and Umbridge was still making notes on her clipboard. Trelawney looked extremely put out by this.

"Now," said Umbridge, "you've been in this post how long, exactly?"

Trelawney scowled as she said, "Nearly sixteen years."

"Quite a period. So, it was Professor Dumbledore who appointed you."

"That's right."

"And you are a great-great-granddaughter of the celebrated Seer Cassandra Trelawney?"

"Yes," said Trelawney, her head held a little higher.

"But I think – correct me if I am mistaken – that you are the first in your family since Cassandra to be possessed of second sight?"

"These things often skip – er – three generations."

Umbridge's smile widened. "Of course. Well, if you could just predict something for me, then?"

Trelawney stiffened as she said, "I don't understand you."

"I'd like you to make a prediction for me," Umbridge said clearly.

Most of the class were now staring transfixed at Trelawney as she drew herself up to her full height, her earrings shaking.

"The Inner Eye does not See upon command!"

"I see," Umbridge said softly, making a note on her clipboard.

"I – but – but… wait!" said Trelawney suddenly, in an attempt at her usual otherworldly voice, though the mystical effect was ruined somewhat by the way it was shaking with anger. "I… I think I do see something… something that concerns you… Why, I sense something… something dark… some grave peril…" Trelawney pointed a shaking finger at Umbridge who continued to smile blandly at her, eyebrows raised. "I am afraid… I am afraid that you are in grave danger!"

There was a pause. Umbridge's eyebrows were still raised.

"Right," said Umbridge, making more notes on her clipboard. "Well, if that's really the best you can do…"

She turned away and sat back on her armchair. Trelawney was left rooted on her spot, her chest heaving. Arabella knew that Trelawney was a fraud, she's known that since her third year, but she loathed Umbridge so much that she was beginning to side with Trelawney. This last only a few minutes as she began interrupting Harry's dreams at the top of her voice, foretelling a gruesome and early death. Umbridge kept making notes on her clipboard, and when the bell rang, she was the first to descend.

When they entered Defense Against the Dark Arts, Umbridge was waiting for them, smiling and humming. Arabella and Harry took a seat behind Ron and Hermione, the former telling the latter exactly what happened in Divination.

"Wands away," Umbridge instructed. "As we finished chapter one last lesson, I would like you all to turn to page nineteen today and commence chapter two, Common Defensive Theories and Their Derivation. There will be no need to talk."

She sat down at her desk, smiling smugly. A lot of the students sighed as they turned to page nineteen. Arabella and Harry looked at each other, neither pleased and both tired of these lessons. Arabella was just about to start reading when she noticed Hermione's hand in the air in front of her. She wasn't the only one who noticed, in fact, Umbridge noticed as well, and seemed to have a plan.

She got to her feet, and walked around until she was face-to-face with Hermione, bent down and whispered, "What is it this time, Miss Granger?"

"I've already ready chapter two," said Hermione.

"Well, then, proceed to chapter three."

"I've read that too. I've read the whole book."

"Well, then," said Umbridge, blinking, "you should be able to tell me what Slinkhard says about counter-jinxes in chapter fifteen."

"He says that counter jinxes are improperly named," said Hermione promptly. "He says 'counter-jinxes' is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make then sound more acceptable. But I disagree."

Umbridge was impressed for a slight moment before becoming instantly aggravated. "You disagree?"

"Yes, I do," Hermione said clearly. "Mr. Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, does he? But I think they can be very useful when they're used defensively."

"Oh, you do, do you?" said Umbridge, straightening up. "Well, I'm afraid it is Mr. Slinkhard's opinion, and not yours, that matter within this classroom, Miss Granger."

"But –"

"That is enough," said Umbridge. She walked back to the front of the class and stood before them. "Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor House."

There was an outbreak of muttering at this.

"Why?" Arabella said angrily.

Hermione whispered something in her direction, but Arabella wasn't listening.

"For disrupting my class with pointless interruptions," Umbridge said smoothly. "I am here to teach you using a Ministry-approved method –"

"You mean rubbish, right?" Arabella said furious.

"I beg your –?"

"Your Ministry-approved method is rubbish," snapped Arabella, "especially when you disregard any student who raises her hand to give her opinion in a bloody classroom of all places."

Umbridge's nose flared momentarily before she regained composure. "I think the message needs to sink in more, Miss Black. Another week's worth of detention should do it. Tonight, six o'clock sharp."

There was a silence as everyone was staring at Umbridge. Arabella winced and rubbed the back of her hand, not looking forward to slicing it open again.

"As I was saying," Umbridge promptly continued on, "I am here to teach you using a Ministry-approved method that does not include inviting student to give their opinions on matter about which they understand very little. Your previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more license, but as none of them – with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects – would have passed a Ministry inspection –"

"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher," said Harry loudly, "there was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head."

There was another moment of silence. Arabella sighed and glanced over at him, shaking her head.

"I think another week's detention will do you some good as well, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said sleekly.

By the following morning, the cut on her hand was bleeding again. Arabella signed and washed it carefully. Last evening's detention was the same as the other ones. She wrote I must obey authority over and over again, not complaining, not making a move of discomfort. She did not want to give Umbridge that sort of satisfaction. She was thankful that the scars on her arms did not open this time. She made a mental note to wrap her arms before her detention tonight just in case.

But the worst part of detention was Angelina's reaction, something Arabella should have realized was coming. She cornered Harry and grabbed a hold of Arabella's arm to stop her from escaping. She was shouting so loudly that McGonagall had to sweep down on the trio from the staff table.

"Miss Johnson, how dare you make such as racket in the Great Hall! Five points from Gryffindor and release Miss Black at once!"

"But Professor – they've gone and landed themselves in detention again –"

"What is this?" said McGonagall sharply, rounding on the pair. "Detention? From whom?"

"Professor Umbridge," muttered Harry, looking down on the ground.

"Are you tell me," McGonagall lowered her voice, "that after the warning I gave the two of you last Monday you've lost your tempers again in her class?"

"Yes," Harry and Arabella said together.

"Get a grip on yourselves! You two are heading for serious trouble! Ten points from Gryffindor!"

"But – Professor!" protested Arabella. "We already have detention and it's not like we're saying anything wrong –"

"What did you tell her this time, Black?" McGonagall said acidly. "Did you wish death upon her? Did you say that she was endangering the lives of her students or that she was the doom of the wizarding community?"

Arabella said nothing. When McGonagall continued to stare at her, Arabella said, in a very small voice, "I told her that her teaching methods were rubbish."

"Exactly," said McGonagall, shaking her head. "And let me guess," she added, turning towards Harry, "something about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Harry nodded his head meekly.

"Detention does not appear to have any effect on the two of you whatsoever! No, not another word of complaint, Black! And Miss Johnson, you will confine your shouting matches to the Quidditch pitch in the future or risk losing the team Captaincy!"

McGonagall strode back to the staff table and Angelina gave them a look of deep disgust before stalking away. They ate in silence for the rest of breakfast. Arabella noted the aloof look on Hermione's face and knew she agreed with McGonagall straight away. Arabella did not speak all through Charms, the pain on the back of her hand nearly unbearable. But the moment she entered Transfiguration, she instantly became overjoyed.

Umbridge was sitting in the corner with her clipboard. Everyone took notice as well, filing into their desks with glee. They all knew Umbridge was finally going to get what she deserved.

McGonagall marched into the room and silence immediately fell.

"Mr. Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework – Miss Brown, please take this box of mice – don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you – and hand one to each student –"

"Hem, hem," said Umbridge.

McGonagall ignored her. Seamus handed back Arabella's essay. She was delighted to see what she had gotten an E.

"Right then, everyone, listen closely – Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention – most of you have now successfully vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have the gist of the spell. Today we shall be –"

"Hem, hem."

"Yes?" said McGonagall, turning around.

"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec –"

"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom," said McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Umbridge. "As I was saying, today we shall be practicing the altogether more difficult vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell –"

"Hem, hem."

"I wonder," McGonagall said in a cold fury, "how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking."

Arabella laughed, but quickly covered it with a cough, hitting her chest a couple times for good measure. Umbridge looked as though she had been slapped and it was perfect. She did not speak as she began scribbling furiously on her clipboard.

"As I was saying," said McGonagall, addressing the class, "the Vanishing Spell become more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be vanished. The snail, as in invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So – you know the incantation, let me see what you can do…"

Umbridge did not follow McGonagall around the class, as she had done with Trelawney. She merely made her notes in the corner and when McGonagall finally told them all to pack up, she rose with a grim expression on her face. Arabella dropped her mouse into the box Lavender was passing around, pleased with the outcome of class. As they filed out the classroom, Umbridge approached McGonagall's desk. Arabella, Harry, Hermione and Ron fell back deliberately to eavesdrop.

"How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" asked Umbridge.

"Thirty-nine years this December," McGonagall said briskly.

"Very well, you will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time."

"I can hardly wait," McGonagall said coldly. "Hurry up, you four," she added to Arabella, Harry, Hermione and Ron as she strode off toward the door.

The next time they saw Umbridge was down the lawns for Care of Magical Creatures. She had her clipboard and was talking to Professor Grubbly-Plank. Arabella and Hermione exchange uneasy looks with each other. Malfoy was whispering to Crabbe and Goyle, surely looking for an opportunity to embarrass Hagrid. Umbridge tried to get an answer out of Grubbly-Plank on Hagrid's whereabouts, but she received nothing in returned. Umbridge then went wandering around, questioning students on various magical creatures. Most of them answered well, the Slytherins didn't even bother, and Arabella puffed her chest a little. The Gryffindors were not going to let Hagrid down.

Once she was done, she praised Grubbly-Plank and went around asking the Slytherins about injuries in the class. Arabella grabbed Harry's arm tightly and shook her head when Malfoy piped up about the hippogriff incident in their third year. They did not need another night added their week's worth of detention. She was getting tired of having McGonagall and Angelina yelling at her, and Hermione's disapproving looks. And she knew that Harry was getting tired as well.

"You may leave now, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said softly after inspecting the back of his hand. "Not you, Miss Black."

Arabella wanted to roll her eyes. She did not change her pace, nor did she move. She knew the drill by now. She knew she was not allowed to leave until way past Harry's departure. She thought of the nice hot shower and her warm bed waiting for her in her dormitory as she wrote her lines.

I must obey authority.
I must obey authority.
I must obey authority.
I must obey authority.
I must obey authority.

"Miss Black," said Umbridge, standing up, "why must you made such hideous accusations in my class?"

Arabella's quill scratched the parchment. She looked up. Umbridge was looking at her sincerely with her head tiled to the side.

"I do not like hurting you, Miss Black. I truly don't. You are a child and children need to be nurtured. I am trying to help you, Miss Black, but you are not co-operating with me. If we want unity with all wizard-kind, we must be able to work together. Miss Black, do you understand?"

"Yes," Arabella said bleakly. "Yes, Professor Umbridge."

"Good," said Umbridge, seemingly satisfied. She walked around her desk and stood in front of Arabella. "Hand."

Arabella stuck her hand out and Umbridge probed it judiciously before smiling and said, sweetly, "And what must we always do, Miss Black?"

Arabella blinked at her. "Obey authority."

"Good," said Umbridge. "You may leave."

Arabella grabbed her things and left the office quickly. She took out an old scarf in her bag and wrapped her hand around it. Her blood stained it instantly. When she climbed through the portrait hole, she was expecting to see Harry alone, but he was accompanied by Ron and Hermione. She was happy to see them. Hermione seemed more sympathetic than critical.

"Here," said Hermione, pushing a small bowl of yellow liquid towards her, "soak your hand in it. It's a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, it should help."

Arabella took the scarf off and placed her sore hand into the bowl. She immediately felt relieved and relaxed against the table.

"Thanks, Hermione."

"Tell her," Harry said abruptly, nodding his head towards Arabella. "Go on, tell her then."

Ron and Hermione exchanged grim looks.

"What?" said Arabella, looking between the pair. "What am I missing?"

"Well, before you came back," Hermione said in a small voice, "before even Harry came back, I was saying to Ron that… we've got to do something about Umbridge."

"Are you suggesting we kill her?" said Arabella, smiling a little. "Because we could totally do it, Hermione. Mad-Eye has told me different ways to make it look like an accident. Just say the word and –"

Hermione looked appalled as Ron tried to hide his laugh.

"No, no," said Hermione, shaking her head frantically, "that's not what I meant, nothing of the sort! I was just thinking that – well – maybe it's time that we just do it ourselves."

"Do what?" Arabella asked suspiciously.

Hermione hesitated before Ron said, "Learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves."

"Apparently it's more important than homework," Harry said rapidly.

"You and you," Arabella pointed at Ron and Harry, "shut up. You," she pointed at Hermione, "go on."

"Oh, come on –"

"We're already so behind on our –"

"Shut up," Arabella said quickly. "Go on, Hermione, why is this more important than homework?"

"Not everything is about homework, for goodness's sake! It's about preparing ourselves for what's waiting out there! It's about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year –"

"We can't do much ourselves," said Ron in a defeated voice. "I mean, all right, we can go and look jinxes up in the library and try and practice them, I suppose –"

"No, I agree, we're gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," said Hermione. "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use spells and correct us if we're going wrong. And I'm not taking about Remus. He's too busy with the Order and the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and that's not nearly often enough."

"Then who are you talking about?" asked Arabella.

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry, who did not look pleased.

Arabella thought about it for a moment before chuckling and nodding. "It's – it's actually a good idea."

"What?" exclaimed Harry. "I'm not a teacher, I can't –"

"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione.

"You've beaten me in every test –"

"Actually, I haven't," Hermione said coolly. "But I'm not talking about test results, Harry. Look at what you've done!"

"How d'you mean?"

"You know what, I'm not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me," Ron said to Hermione, smirking slightly. He turned to Harry. 'Let's think… uh… first year – you saved the stone from You-Know-Who."

"But that was luck –"

"You call that luck?" interrupted Arabella. "You're kidding me, right? You stood up to him when you were eleven –"

"So did you – !"

"And you killed the basilisk in our second year –"

"If it wasn't for Fawkes –"

"Fawkes did not put a sword through the snake's mouth," snipped Arabella. "You fought off a hundred dementors in our third year –"

"So did you!"

Arabella did not understand why her temper was rising. She was standing up, shouting at Harry, who was returning it right back at her. Ron and Hermione watched the both of them with smiles on her face, clearly amused.

"You fought off Voldemort more than any other wizard in the world!" exploded Arabella.

"It was luck – !" shouted Harry.

"It wasn't luck and you've defeated him, Harry! If it wasn't for you god knows where I would be!"

The words died in Arabella's mouth. She was angry and her mouth was in a thin line. She slumped down on an arm chair and put her head in her hands. She then looked up. Harry was still flared up.

"Nobody knows what its like," she said steadily. "But you do. You, more than anybody else, knows what it's like."

"But all that stuff was luck," Harry said heatedly. "I didn't get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because – because help came at the right moment, or because I guessed right – but I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing – STOP LAUGHING!"

Ron and Hermione immediately stopped smiling. The bowl of murtlap that Harry had fell on the floor.

"Neither one of you – neither one of you have never faced him, have you?" He was fuming at Ron and Hermione. "You two just think it's about memorizing a bunch of lines and spells and throwing them at him, hoping one of them would work, like you're in class or something? The whole time you're out there, there's nothing between you and dying except your own – your own brain or guts or whatever – like you can think straight when you know you're about a second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friend die – they've never taught us that in their classes, what it's like to deal with things like that – watching someone being tortured, watching someone die – you two sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up – you just don't get it, that could have easily been me, or Arabella. It would have if Vol –"

"We weren't having a go at Diggory, mate," said Ron, looking aghast. "We didn't – you've got the wrong end of the –"

He looked helplessly at Hermione, whose face was stricken.

"Harry," she said timidly, "on't you see? This… this is exactly why we need you… we need to know what it's r – really like… facing him… facing V – Voldemort. Think about it, please?"

Harry nodded.

Hermione stood up and said, trying to sound neutral, "Well, I'm off to bed… Erm… coming?"

Arabella nodded and said, "Yeah, in a bit."

Both Hermione and Ron left to their respective dormitories. The moment they heard the doors close faintly, Harry said, "What should I do?"

"I think you know what I think, Harry," said Arabella, rubbing her eyes. "All my yelling should have made it clear. You're the best choice and no one understand what it's like facing him like you."

"You've faced him too," Harry said instantly. "In our first year and at the graveyard."

Arabella nodded. "But it's different, Harry. He didn't want me. He wanted to face you and you both dueled. I was just… tied up, I guess. Think about it, Harry. It's not a bad idea."

Arabella kissed the top of his head before heading up the stairs, exhausted. But she knew she was not getting peace any time soon. Hermione was waiting for her at the top of the stairs.

"Oh, good, you're here," Hermione said breathlessly. "I need you to do something for me."

Arabella sighed and said, "What now?"

"When Harry accepts, we will need to have a meeting of sorts –"

"Meeting?"

"You know, with other people that are interested in actually learning something useful. But they might not be too keen with participating unless they understand the severity of the matter."

Arabella's eyebrows formed a tight, single-line. "What are you talking about, Hermione?"

"I think… I think you should show them your scars," whispered Hermione.

"No," Arabella said at once, shaking her head. "No, absolutely not. Why would I – what – completely mad –"

"Just, think about it, will you?" Hermione said hastily, unsure of herself now. "Harry has faced V – Voldemort, but you… Arabella, you tortured at a young age for no reason and you had to witness your mother's death –"

"I'm very well aware of what happened that night, thank you," snapped Arabella. "But I'm not talking about it to a bunch of strangers. Thanks, but I'm good."

Instead of a warm, peaceful slumber, Arabella dreamt of cold cells, dark skies and thunder. Her hands enclosed around the cell bars and she could see lightening in the distance. Arabella woke up the next morning in a bloody shirt.

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think of this chapter!