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Thanks to: TheBallinSmasher for reviewing!
Disclaimer: I own no one but Mia…
Chapter 11: Prophet vs Quibbler
There was a copy of the Daily Prophet on one of the small tables in the common room, with ten large photos on the front cover. Nine men and one woman. The headline above them read: Mass breakout from Azkaban, Ministry fears Black is 'rallying point' for old Death Eater. Mia looked down at the paper and turned it a bit, so she could read the words.
The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.
Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.
'We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sinus Black escaped,' said Fudge last night. 'Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals, and we beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached.'
Her eyes skimmed the words a couple more times, remembering when Fred and George had told her Sirius Black had been innocent. She picked up the paper and walked over to where the twins were sitting. "Did you see this?" she asked, sitting on the arm of Fred's chair and handing the paper to him. He glanced at it and chucked it on the table.
"Yeah, saw it this morning at breakfast," he said.
"And you didn't think to tell me?" Mia said.
"You were still in bed!" Fred shrugged.
"Well, you could've told me in Charms!" she said.
"Well, we couldn't be bothered!" he replied.
The next day, a large sign appeared on the notice board.
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-six.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor
"Well, that sucks!" Mia muttered, staring at it.
January was probably the worst month yet- weather wise, anyway. Instead of snow, rain fell from the grey sky, pouring like waterfalls down windows and off the off the roof. The enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall was clouded over every morning, and the only thing that convinced people it wasn't real was that the rain that fell from it didn't actually make them wet.
About half way through January, Mia stood in one of the greenhouses, listening to the thudding of the rain as it fell down. She looked over her Venomous Tentacula plant, stretching out her hand and snapping it back towards herself when one of the vines came snaking out towards her.
"Now, now, don't be shy!" Sprout said from behind her, "Just chop off the leaves, there, and put them in the bowl. Keep your wand out though, in case it does anything!"
"Does anything?" Mia squeaked, before Sprout had the chance to move away.
"Oh, don't worry! Just chop off the leaves!" and Sprout bounced away to help a Hufflepuff girl.
Mia managed to get a quarter of the leaves off of the plant and into the bowl, and had to shoot the plant several times with her wand because it started slipping its vines up her arms. "Very good, very good!" Sprout had said as she'd taken her bowl up to the front, and left the greenhouse. The rain splashed onto her head and soaked through her clothes within seconds. Once she'd sprinted through the double doors with the rest of the class, she dragged her fingers under her eyes, throwing away droplets of water.
She skidded into the dungeons minutes later, still dripping wet, and all the Slytherins sniggered. She took out her wand and pointed it at herself, muttering "Exaresco," and the water evaporated. She walked over to her place next to Angelina and set up her cauldron, sending a couple of sparks towards the Slytherins, who were still laughing. She lost Gryffindor fifty points.
January turned into February, and the weather turned warmer, but the rain continued. Mia was staring at her half finished Transfiguration essay, fiddling with her necklace and trying to figure out weather she'd spelt definition correctly. She thought she had, but for some reason, it just didn't look right. She noticed it was because the 't' and the 'i' seemed to have merged into one letter.
Fred and George had just left the common room, going down the watch the Quidditch practice. Mia was surprised when Ginny got the place of Seeker- she didn't even know Ginny could fly that well.
Her DA coin was lying on the table next to her parchment, and she kept picking it up and twisting it around in her fingers. Her essay was on Protean Charms. As she was looking at the coin, it suddenly grew warm, and the numbers around the side flicked, telling her that the next meeting would be in three days. She put down the coin and picked her quill, scratching the spell can be used so many objects are linked, rather then just two onto the parchment.
Fred and George came back later that evening, and during dinner, she asked them how the practice had gone. "It was terrible," Fred muttered.
"The two blokes they got to replace us are horrible," George said.
"They can't be that bad!" Mia said, cutting some chicken off of the bone.
"They are," Fred and George replied.
"But they made it onto the team!"
"Yeah, well," Fred replied, "everyone else who tried out must've been bloody mental to think they even had half a chance."
They entered the common room later to see Harry and Hermione sitting by the fire, talking.
"Ron and Ginny not here?" Fred asked them as they approached. "Good. We were watching their practice. They're going to be slaughtered. They're complete rubbish without us!"
"Come on, Ginny's not bad," George said as he and Mia sat down- George next to Fred and Mia on the arm of the chair, "Actually, I dunno how she got so good, seeing how we never let her play with us."
"She's been breaking into your broom shed in the garden since the age of six and taking each of your brooms out in turn when you weren't looking," Hermione answered, and Mia stifled a laugh.
"Oh… well… that'd explain it," George said.
"Has Ron saved a goal yet?" Hermione asked.
"Well," Fred sighed, "he can do it if he doesn't think anyone's watching him. So all we have to do is ask the crowd to turn their backs and talk among themselves every time the Quaffle goes up his end on Saturday."
"Like that'd ever work," Mia muttered, sliding down onto the actual sofa as Fred stood up.
"You know, Quidditch was about the only thing in this place worth staying for…" he said.
"You've got exams coming!" Hermione gasped.
"Told you already," Fred turned around and leaned against the window, "we're not fussed about NEWTs."
"Mia!" Hermione looked at her.
"What? I can't do anything!"
"Well, you could at least try-"
"I'm not their mother, Hermione!" Mia cut her off.
"I dunno if I even want to watch this match," George muttered, "if Zacharias Smith beats us I might have to kill myself."
"Kill him, more like," Fred said.
"Can't we just kill the entire Hufflepuff team before the match? Then we'd win anyway," Mia suggested.
"That's the trouble with Quidditch, it creates all this bad feeling and tension between the houses," Hermione said, writing something down on a bit of parchment. George, Harry and Fred all looked at her incredulously, and Mia just raised her eyebrows.
"Well, it does!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly, "It's only a game, isn't it?"
"Hermione, you're good on feelings and stuff, but you just don't understand about Quidditch," Harry said.
"Maybe not, but at least my happiness doesn't depend on Ron's goalkeeping ability," Hermione replied. Mia rolled her eyes.
"And neither does mine, but I still want Gryffindor to win!"
It was probably the worst Quidditch game anyone had ever seen. Within the first five minutes, Hufflepuff had already tried to score five times, and Ron had missed every single one of them. The Slytherins started up a chorus of 'Weasley is Our King', making Ron's performance even worse. The two new Beaters- Kirke and Sloper- were terrible. Countless of times, they missed the Bludgers, sometimes even hitting their own team mates over the head with their bats. The one time Sloper did hit a Bludger… it slammed into Angelina. The Gryffindors groaned and winced every time something happened.
"Is this what it's like watching? Man, I feel sorry for you!" Fred muttered Hufflepuff scored one hundred points.
"No, Fred, this is not what it usually feels like to be watching, because usually" Mia replied, rather harshly, "we are winning!"
Soon, Hufflepuff had two hundred and forty points, and suddenly, Ginny and the Hufflepuff Seeker- Summerby- sped off in the same direction. A minute later, Ginny was holding the Snitch up in air, a solemn look on her face. Gryffindor had still lost.
Slowly, everybody in the Gryffindor House trudged back to the castle, trying to block out the sounds of Slytherins singing 'Weasley is Our King'. The mood in the common room was miserable and depressing. The Quidditch team sat scattered around the common room: the Chasers by the fire, mumbling about how they were probably the only good ones on the team, the Beaters in a dark corner, not speaking and looking around with moody expressions, arms crossed, Ron in an even darker corner, holding a bottle of Butterbeer, and Ginny speaking to Harry. Mia sat with Fred and George, flicking through Medicine Magic: a Guide to the World of Magical Medicine, pausing to read over bits she hadn't fully memorised yet.
Fred and George went over to talk to Harry and Mia made her way off towards Hermione, who was writing down on some parchment. "Hey," she greeted.
"Hm? Oh, hello, Mia," Hermione replied, looking up from her writing, "pretty bad game, wasn't it?"
"It was terrible," Mia replied flatly. Hermione shrugged.
"This is why I'm glad I don't know a lot about Quidditch. I feel disappointed that we loose, but I move on after a few minutes," she said.
"Yeah, well," Mia sighed, "some people are lucky, ain't they?"
A few days later, Mia sat at the Gryffindor table at breakfast, in between Fred and George. As the post owls arrived, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat opposite them. An owl landed in front of Harry, narrowly missing Mia's cereal bowl. She pulled it out of the way warily.
"Who're you after?" Harry asked it, then, with a confused expression, went to take the letter off its leg. But five more owls swooped down onto the table. One of these owls did land in Mia's cereal bowl. She pulled a face of disgust and pushed it away. Mean while, Hermione had pulled a screech owl out of the mass of birds. Harry opened the package it was carrying. It was an issue of the Quibbler. On the front page was a picture of Harry, with the words Speaks Out At Last: The Truth about You-Know-Who, And the Night I Saw Him Return above it. Harry was just staring at the magazine, and Luna Lovegood came over to the table.
"It's good, isn't it? It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send you a free copy. I expect all these are letters from readers."
"That's what I thought," Hermione beamed, "Harry, d'you mind if we-?"
"Help yourself!" Harry replied, and Hermione and Ron started opening the letters.
"This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker… ah well," Ron said, throwing the letter aside.
"This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St Mungo's," Hermione said, frowning.
"This one looks OK, though," Harry was reading through a letter, "hey, she says she believes me!" Luna smiled dreamily at all the owls, feeding a piece of toast to one. Fred reached towards a pale blue envelope.
"This one's in two minds…" he said, "Says you don't come across as a mad person… but he really doesn't want to believe You-Know-Who's back… so he doesn't know what to think now. Blimey, what a waste of parchment!" Mia laughed as he threw the letter over his shoulder.
"Here's another one you've convinced, Harry!" Hermione was clutching a small piece of parchment, "'Having read your side of the story, I am forced to the conclusion that the Daily Prophet has treated you very unfairly; little though I want to think that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you are telling the truth'… Oh, this is wonderful!" she put the letter on the small pile of letters telling Harry they believed him. Mia started munching on a piece of toast, seeing as the owl that had stood in her cereal now seemed to be trying to swim in it.
"Another one who thinks you're barking," Ron shrugged, then said "but this one says you've got her converted and she now thinks you're a real hero! She's put in a photograph, too… wow!" he held up a picture of a pretty blond with who was smiling timidly.
"Oh crap…" Mia muttered.
"What?" George asked. But his question was answered by a high, too-sweet voice.
"What is going on here?"
Everyone looked up at Umbridge, who was wearing the brightest pink she had worn all year. Harry dropped all the envelopes he was holding. Luna came out of her daze. Ron quickly shoved the picture of the pretty blond witch under the table. Hermione stopped herself from throwing another non-believer's letter over her shoulder. Fred grimaced. George dropped his bit of bacon. Mia tried to shoo away some on the owls.
"Why have you got all these letters, Mr Potter?" Umbridge asked, smiling down at them.
"Is that a crime now? Getting mail?" Fred scoffed, and Mia kicked him under the table.
"Be careful, Mr Weasley," Umbridge warned, "or I shall have to put you in detention. Well, Mr Potter?"
Slowly, Harry handed over the copy of the Quibbler, and Umbridge's eyes widened manically.
"People have written to me because I gave an interview," Harry told her, "about what happened to me last June." Everyone in Hall was watching them now. Some were doing over the tops of their Daily Prophets, others were leaning forwards over the tables, trying to hear what was being said.
"An interview? What do you mean?" Umbridge asked. Mia coughed, hiding a laugh, and Umbridge's eyes flicked all around the group of people.
"I mean," Harry said, and Umbridge looked back at him, "a reporter asked me questions and I answered them."
"When did you do this?" Umbridge asked, fury in her voice.
"Last Hogsmeade weekend," Harry shrugged. Umbridge's chest heaved up as she breathed in, and her face starting going a patchy shade of red. She clenched her fist around the magazine .
"There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr Potter," she said, "how you dare… how you could… I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions." She walked away, and every single eye in the Great Hall followed her. She sat back down at the staff table and slammed the Quibbler onto the table.
As Mia was walking out of Potions after first period, she stopped. There was a sign plaster on the wall.
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor
By lunch, nearly everyone in school had managed to get a copy of the magazine. Mia was flicking through a copy she had found next to her on the table, disguised as a copy of Quidditch through the Ages. Granted, it probably belonged to the first year that had just left the Great Hall, with an utterly confused expression on his face, but she hadn't actually noticed that he'd left, so she couldn't give it back to him.
In Defence Against the Dark Arts, Umbridge walked around the room quietly. "Miss Homing, please empty your bag," she said, standing behind Mia. She looked up from book, where she had been counting how many words were on the page. She'd only reached one hundred and twenty eight.
"Why?" she asked.
"Just do it." Mia smiled, knowing that the only thing Umbridge would find would be that first year's copy of Quidditch through the Ages. Umbridge flicked through it, but all she could see was information on British teams. Scowling, Umbridge handed the copy back, showing Mia a picture of Harry staring up at her.
"What did you expect to find?" she asked. Umbridge didn't answer her.
That evening, Mia, Fred and George returned form the kitchens with Butterbeer and cakes. Fred and George managed to enlarge the picture of Harry, and stuck it up on the wall. Harry, Ron and Hermione walked in just as the poster was saying "The Ministry are morons!" Harry and Ron laughed, and Hermione smiled a bit. As it turned out, Hermione got rather annoyed rather quickly, and went to bed after just an hour.
When Harry went up to bed a few hours later, Mia riffled his hair, grinning as he turned a light shade of red.
So… how was that?
Ok, so, in the next few chapters, I'm going to be putting in the last DA meeting. You know, the one where everyone learns Patronus' and where Umbridge comes and finds them and blah, blah, blah… and I already have Mia's Patronus sorted out… but I'm not quite sure about Fred and George… so… could you give me little help? Please?