Isabella woke and automatically reached up to push Portia off her head.
"You'll smother me one night," she told the kneazle. "And you'll feel sorry." Portia blinked those wide gold eyes. "You will," Isabella assured her, getting up with a yawn. "No one will feed you polenta." Portia licked her lips and arched her back.
Isabella pulled on her school robes and pulled her dark hair back into a ponytail.
"Goodbye, Castro," she whispered, stroking the augury's bald head gently. He opened his mouth but no sound came out because of the Silencing Charm her father had used on the bird. Isabella looked out the window.
"You're right, mia bella," she told the large green bird. "It does look like rain."
"Bella!" Alex called from the doorway. "Don't you want breakfast?"
"Coming!" she called, pulling her book bag over one shoulder and following.
They ate breakfast quickly then hurried down to the dungeons to join the Hufflepuffs for Potions. Professor Snape was, as usual, a nightmare. He assigned an eighteen inch report due the next class.
"Miss O'Reagan?" The professor drawled as the rest of the class was moving out of the classroom.
"Go ahead," Isabella told her friends who had paused. "I'll meet you in Transfiguration."
"Your potion was less than satisfactory," Professor Snape sneered as the last Hufflepuffs left the room. "Is there something... wrong?"
"No, sir." Isabella leant away from the greasy-haired potions master.
"Are you sure?"
"I think so, sir." Professor Snape's lip curled slightly.
"Well, as long as you think so," he scoffed.
"Um, sir?" the girl asked as the professor turned away in a swirl of black robes. "May I ask why you are interested?" Professor Snape stopped and looked back at her condescendingly.
"Not all of my students' lives are of international interest..." he said mysteriously. "Oh, and have Miss Baker tutor you, if you expect to pass." She glared at his back murderously, affronted by the comment to her potion skills. It hadn't been that bad. She turned and ran to follow her friends to Transfiguration.
The class was already in session by the time she pushed through the doors.
"Miss O'Reagan, if you will have a seat," Professor McGonagall told her. Isabella sat down next to Luna and pulled out her wand.
"What are we doing?" she whispered to her classmate.
"We're turning whistles into pocket watches," Luna said, giving her a tin whistle.
"Getting Miss O'Reagan started, Miss Lovegood?" Professor McGonagall asked, sweeping down on the pair of them. "Very good. The spell is Tintinabulation. Let me see." Isabella cleared her throat and tapped the whistle firmly.
"Tintinabulation," she ordered it clearly. The whistle meekly became a pocket watch. Professor McGonagall picked it up and checked its time.
"Very good, O'Reagan," she announced. "It's a little late. Ten points to Ravenclaw." Isabella smiled at Morgan, whose watch was distinctly whistle-shaped and thus created a rather Dali-esque effect.
Lunch came next, but before Isabella could slip out the door Professor McGonagall called her name.
"What did you do now?" Alex asked. She was rather put off that her watch had announced the quarter hour with a shrill whistle.
"I don't know," Isabella sighed. "I'll catch you up." Professor McGonagall moved among the desks collecting whistles, watches, and some things halfway in between.
"I see Mister Creevy still isn't mastering the charm," she said sourly, picking up piece of string that had once been Collin's whistle.
"Tell me, Miss O'Reagan," Professor McGonagall asked, putting the box of items on her desk. "How you are doing today."
"Professor?" she asked cautiously. Isabella was not usually held after class by teachers. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"You don't?" Professor McGonagall looked surprised. "Did you notice nothing this morning?"
"Well, Professor Snape held me back..."
"Yes, yes. I am aware of that," Professor McGonagall snapped. She picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet lying on her desk and shook it out. Isabella came closer and saw an article written on page three. It described, in rather uncomfortable detail, a fight that had broken out between the Minister for Magic and... her mother.
"Oh dear," Isabella said, realizing what Professor Snape had meant. "I don't actually read the Prophet, Professor," she admitted.
"Maybe you should," Professor McGonagall said. The teacher hesitated, then began, "Miss O'Reagan, do you happen to know..."
"I'm sorry Professor," Isabella said smoothly. "But even if I did, I don't think I'd be allowed to tell you."
"Of course," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "Well, off to lunch with you. You wouldn't want to keep Miss Baker in the dark much longer." Isabella smiled, knowing that Morgan would probably be bursting with curiosity by now.
Sure enough, she didn't even have time to sit down before Morgan demanded to know everything that had happened with Snape and McGonagall.
"Nothing much," Isabella said, selecting a bacon bunty from the plate. "My mother got in a fight of some sort with the Minister and Snape and McGonagall were plying me for information."
"What were they fighting about?" Morgan asked, grabbing a bowl of crisps and passing them around.
"I didn't even know they had fought," Isabella shrugged.
"Anything else?"
"Yeah, Snape said I should get you to tutor me in potions," she sighed, taking a bite of her sandwich. Morgan smiled a little at the compliment from Professor Snape, which almost made up for the failed Transfiguration lesson.
"Maybe your mother and Fudge were arguing about the Rotfang conspiracy," Luna suggested, eating a crisp.
"My mom has really great teeth, Luna, but thanks for your concern," Isabella sighed. Luna would.
That night the Ravenclaws had Quidditch practice. Roger Davies was the captain and pushing them very hard, determined to regain the glory once held by Ravenclaw as winners of the Quidditch House Cup. By the time they came off the pitch, the Ravenclaws were tired, but certainly not too tired to complain about Umbridge.
"She's the most horrible Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we ever had!" Nick Hewgly, one of the beaters, complained. He was a year older than Isabella, but short and broad with a loud brassy voice.
"And that's saying something," Cory Johnston added. He was six-foot two and the keeper.
"I liked Lupin," Isabella said. "And Mad-Eye, except that he was a Death-Eater."
"You can't really believe that!" Cory laughed.
"Dumbledore says it's true, and I believe Dumbledore," Isabella said defiantly. That was not, strictly speaking, true. She believed Dumbledore because her grandfather believed him and Grandfather Leo was rarely wrong.
"And Harry, too," Cho added quietly. No one said anything to that, although Cory rolled his eyes. Cho hadn't been the same since Cedric's death and no one liked to talk about Harry Potter around her. As Isabella and Cho walked up to the castle together, Isabella was struck by inspiration.
"Cho, I heard that Harry Potter's having some sort of Defense Against the Dark Arts study group," she said quickly. "If you're interested, we're meeting at the Hog's Head pub this Saturday."
"Oh. Is that... allowed?"
"It's just a study group," Isabella assured her. "Come on, Harry'll be there!" Cho considered this for a moment, then agreed to think about it.