Chapter One Hundred and Five - Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four

Though he'd objected to becoming the mascot for Hermione and Millie's study group, Harry recovered from his faux resentment rather easily. In fact, he was beginning to enjoy the prospect of doing something to directly oppose Umbridge. He got his first taste of what it would be like to teach his peers the following day, when he, Blaise, and Millie began taking turns escorting small groups of students to the Whomping Willow. He personally showed Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil how to use the imobilius charm to temporarily freeze the tree's thrashing branches long enough to trigger the trick knot on its trunk. Lavender and Parvati were suitably impressed. Even Harry, usually oblivious to such attention, noticed the coquettish way they glanced at him after this demonstration.

If the admiration from his fellow students wasn't enough encouragement, Harry was further supported by the certainty that Sirius would approve of what he was doing. When Remus failed to respond to Harry's supplications fast enough for his liking, Harry began sending letters almost daily, always seeking assurance that Sirius was on the mend. He knew better than to entrust any incriminating information in his messages, though he hoped the constant stream of letters would prompt another conversation via floo network. Perhaps then he could share his plans with his godfather.

His enthusiasm was temporarily marred when he walked into the common room Monday morning to find a new notice posted on the board. Harry was not in the habit of checking the bulletin board. They were usually nothing more than reminders from Filch on which items were prohibited, advertisements for second-hand spellbooks, or the occasional lost and found flier. On that day, however, there appeared a large sign with bold black letters which read By Order of the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.

Disgusted by the highly pretentious font in which the words had been printed, Harry read the following statement:

All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.

An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor, Professor Dolores Umbridge. No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.

Any student found to have formed, or belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

The Above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four.

The notice was signed by Dolores Jane Umbridge and was made even more pretentious by the obnoxious wax seal at the bottom of the page.

"This can't be a coincidence," Blaise pronounced the instant he read the notice. He had joined Harry by the bulletin board and eyed the message with an angry glare. "She must know."

Harry agreed with him. "The trouble is, who's the rat?"

"It can't be a Slytherin," said Blaise confidently, "Unless it was Draco."

Harry wasn't willing to cast aspersions so easily, not even on Draco Malfoy.

"We don't know it was a student. It could have been anyone at the pub that day. There were a few shady looking characters sitting around the bar, remember? Even the bartender looked a bit dodgy to me. Any one of them could have been a spy for Umbridge. It would make sense, wouldn't it? Her wanting to keep an eye on students even while we're in Hogsmeade."

Blaise nodded toward the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories and said, "Let's see what Millie thinks."

To their surprise, Millie hardly seemed to care about the matter.

"My money's on Oliver Rivers," she said mildly, "He really seems to have it out for you, Harry."

"He thinks it might not be a student, after all," Blaise reported.

"Well, we'll know soon enough."

"How's that?" asked Harry.

"Because Hermione asked me to jinx the parchment we all signed."

"She did what?" Blaise and Harry asked in chorus, both astonished and impressed to hear she would take such a measure.

"It was all her idea. Clever, too. Trust me, if anyone has run off and tattled to Umbridge, we'll know exactly who they are. And I'll personally make sure they regret it."

"But how will you know?" pursued Blaise as a wicked grin spread over his face, "What's going to happen to them?"

Millie smiled, but she didn't reveal her secret. She merely glanced over their shoulders and said, "Well, it certainly wasn't Draco."

Harry and Blaise turned to stare at the prefect, who had just entered the common room. He looked just as he always did with his blond hair slicked back from his pointed face, though he flinched and looked nervous when he noticed their fixed stares.

"What?" he asked, "What is it now?"

His eyes fell on the sign behind Harry and Blaise, then widened as he realized what the new decree meant for their study group.

"Wait… What are we going to do now?"

In the moment of silence that followed, Harry realized that not only was Draco asking for his opinion, but Blaise and Millie were waiting to see how he would respond, as well.

"We're still doing it, of course," he said without further hesitation.

Blaise pumped his fist into the air. "Alright! Nothing like a little teenage rebellion to get the heart pumping! What about the prefects?"

"You can't very well teach Defense Against the Dark Arts without me," Millie replied with one of her rare smiles, "Of course I'm in."

Draco looked from one face to the next as the trio turned toward him.

"Well… If it's alright for Bulstrode… Then I suppose I'm still in, too."

"Then it's settled," said Harry, "That is, if we still have anyone interested after today."

They made their way to the Great Hall, with Draco awkwardly trailing a few steps behind. Harry could tell that word of the new decree had already spread through the other three houses. He expected Hermione and Neville to be waiting at their usual spot to discuss the recent development, but with a sinking feeling he spotted them among the Gryffindors, having breakfast.

He assumed that they were attempting to avoid suspicion by remaining with their own house, but he selfishly considered the change overly cautious. Hadn't they already established a habit of taking nearly every meal with Harry at the Slytherin table? This sudden change might raise more eyebrows than if they had continued on with their usual practice.

Then he noticed Draco looking longingly in the same direction, though in his case, his attention was drawn toward Ron Weasley and his gang of friends. Perhaps Draco was following Hermione's lead, for he too refrained from crossing house lines to join them today.

At least Harry still had Blaise and Millie. Umbridge's measures to separate the students effectively alienated Draco from any support now that he, Crabbe, and Goyle were at odds. Taking pity on him, Harry said, "You can join us, if you want."

Although Blaise looked revolted by the suggestion, he did not voice his displeasure, for at that moment Cassius Warrington bore down upon them and said, "Suppose you've all seen the notice board? You do realize she named teams, too? Now we'll have to get Umbridge's permission before we can play Quidditch. We can't even hold practice!"

The possibility of Quidditch being disbanded hadn't even occurred to Harry. His thoughts had been too preoccupied with the fate of their study group. He looked at Warrington with horror on his face as the captain continued, "Answer me this, Potter. Is that list we signed safe? Is there any way Umbridge could discover our involvement in the… in that thing we discussed?"

"The list is fine," Harry assured him, though he hardly knew where the list was kept at present, "And we haven't technically broken any rules. We never officially held a meeting."

His answer satisfied Warrington for the moment, though he felt compelled to say, "If this impacts Quidditch at all, I'm out. And I'll expect the same for anyone else who wants to remain on my team."

Harry privately thought that Warrington's priorities were misplaced, but he didn't argue. He knew there would be others, perhaps several others, who shared his reservations now that the decree was passed.

He shared these worries with Blaise, Millie, and Draco as they sat down to breakfast. Though Millie was in favor of continuing their private practices in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry was discouraged at the idea of giving up the Shrieking Shack.

"If the group falls apart, the Shrieking Shack would be compromised," Blaise warned, "We've already shown most of them the secret passage."

They continued to speculate on what course of action to take, but their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the morning post. Harry, ever on the alert for news from Remus, instantly spotted Hedwig's white form amongst the gray and brown owls that swooped over their heads. To his delight, she dropped a long awaited response onto Harry's plate.

To his surprise, the message was in Sirius's own hand. It was short, but filled Harry with excitement.

Tonight. The fire. Midnight.


Harry had once looked forward to the possibility of witnessing Snape's evaluation. But since the announcement of Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four, Harry felt nothing but disgust as he walked into Potions and noticed Umbridge lurking in the dungeon. He spotted her seated in a dim corner of the classroom, as if she had been hoping to take them all by surprise. Her hiding place was given away by her horrid pink cardigan.

"You will find that we have a guest today," Snape announced in his slow monotone. He made no additional allusions to Professor Umbridge, and proceeded with his class as usual. "We will continue our Strengthening Solutions today. If made correctly, the mixtures you produced last lesson will have matured over the weekend."

With a wave of his wand, the instructions for part two of the assignment appeared on the blackboard, and the class set to work. The Potions Master resumed his usual practice of stalking about the room, looking into cauldrons and making snide comments or offering praise depending on whether the student in question was in his own house or not.

Much to Harry's satisfaction, his potion has matured well. He was no less determined to succeed in this lesson as the last, perhaps even more so under Umbridge's watchful eye. It was difficult, however, to pay attention to his potion once Umbridge rose from her seat. He thought she had more sense than to interrupt Snape while he was still giving instruction, but to his shock, Umbridge approached him as he was inspecting the contents of Dean Thomas's cauldron.

"Well! The class seems fairly advanced for their level. Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer if that was removed from the syllabus."

Snape turned slowly toward her. His face had become the blank mask Harry had once seen him adopt when facing Lord Voldemort himself. It was unreadable, but fact that he adopted this neutral expression signaled to Harry precisely what Snape must think of Umbridge, the Ministry, and their opinion of his syllabus.

"How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Umbridge continued when Snape made no reply to her first comment.

"Fourteen years," was his brief response.

"And you first applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position?"

"Yes."

"And you were denied?"

Snape hesitated. Harry assumed he was biting back a pert "obviously." But to his surprise, Snape coolly responded, "I had been informed that the job is cursed."

Umbridge glanced at him with something between shock and derision as she repeated, "Cursed? Whatever do you mean?"

"Not one of your predecessors have been able to hold the position for longer than a year."

Umbridge offered him a sweet smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "I realize that Dumbledore has had some difficulty in finding a suitable educator to fill the post, but surely you don't believe that's due to a curse? Doesn't it seem more likely that this recent string of bad luck is due to poor management?"

"It's been nearly fifty years since Hogwarts had the same Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for two consecutive years. I wouldn't call that a recent change."

Umbridge's smile faltered. Apparently, she hadn't been informed of the long string of teachers who had failed before her. Harry, who had assumed the problem with Defense Against the Dark Arts began with Quirrell, was just as shocked to hear this report.

"Why don't you leave the curses to me?" Umbridge said quickly, trying to regain control of the conversation, "After all, I am the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Snape's perfect mask of indifference broke. He smiled at Umbridge ever so slightly as he replied, "For now."

If Harry had expected Snape to put up more of a fight than this, he was sorely disappointed. Snape would not be baited again. When Umbridge continued with her impertinent questions, Snape resumed his tactic of answering her as briefly as possible. When she finally gave up her interrogation and moved on to question the students, Snape's eyes met Harry's. He sneered, and immediately came to inspect his potion.

Although Harry's Strengthening Solution exactly matched Hermione's, Snape pronounced his work another failure. He imperiously demanded that Harry remain after class a second time to see what they could do to salvage it. Harry understood him perfectly. He had something else he wanted to discuss.

Despite Snape's clever acting, Umbridge must have suspected some subterfuge. As the rest of the students began filtering out of the classroom, she lingered in her corner, scribbling on her clipboard as Harry dithered about his cauldron. Snape feigned interest in his potion, making cutting remarks about the consistency of the solution and the thin film that had slowly begun to coalesce on its surface once the flames had been quelled. His act was so convincing that Harry actually started to believe he was mistaken about Snape's true intentions. At last, Umbridge had to hurry away to her own class, and they were left alone.

Snape immediately bottled a sample of the unaltered potion and addressed Harry with, "Did you have anything to do with the new educational decree?"

"Which one was that again?" Harry inquired, trying to feign innocence, "There are just so many, it's hard to keep track."

"You can cease the sarcasm," advised Snape, "Forming a group of student insurgents is exactly the sort of thing I would expect from the son of James Potter."

"What about the son of Lily Potter?" Harry asked cheekily.

Snape said nothing, but drummed his fingers against his desk in a manner that suggested his irritation.

"We had a bet, didn't we?" Harry reminded him, "You said if I won the Triwizard Tournament, then you'd answer every question I had about my mum. Well, I did win the tournament, didn't I?"

"It was rigged," replied Snape, "The bet's off."

"You're a Death Eater. I think if you want me to tell you anything, you have to prove you're on my side."

Snape glowered at him, but to Harry's surprise, his argument seemed to work.

"Lily Evans was a prefect," Snape informed him placidly, "And eventually became Head Girl. I doubt she would approve of your actions now."

Harry was delighted. No one had ever told him that his mother was Head Girl! He wanted to know more, but was conscious that Snape expected him to come clean about their study group. It would be impossible for him to admit the truth to any teacher, however. He had signed his name on the list, same as everyone else. Though he still didn't know what curse Millie planted on the parchment, he wasn't keen to test it himself. He continued to insist he knew nothing about Umbridge's reasons for the new educational decree, until eventually Snape dismissed him with an impatient warning.

"Fine, don't tell me the truth," he said, "But try to use caution, whatever you do. You're a Slytherin. It's time you started acting like one."


Harry had no idea what Snape meant by these parting words. Since his arrival at Hogwarts, he'd only ever heard Slytherins referred to as ambitious and cunning, though Slytherins themselves preferred the word "resourceful." Harry certainly didn't think he fit any of the criteria. He wasn't clever or ambitious or proud. He was just… Harry. Just a boy barely squeaking by as time after time Voldemort and his followers sought his destruction. He had no idea what it meant to act like a Slytherin, and was still ruminating on this question when he was approached a second time by Cassius Warrington that night.

Brandishing a small roll of parchment, the quidditch captain said, "I've finished the petition to reinstate the Slytherin quidditch team. Will you submit it to Umbridge tomorrow?"

"Me?" Harry said, aghast, "Why should I do it? You're the captain!"

Warrington shrugged, "I thought we'd have a better chance of getting approved if the request came from the Boy Who Lived."

Harry reluctantly agreed. Perhaps using whatever influence his face granted him was exactly the sort of thing a Slytherin would do. He accepted the scroll from Warrington, though he did not cherish the idea of speaking to Umbridge the next day.

He remained in the common room long after Warrington had gone off to bed, twiddling the parchment in his hand and rehearsing in his mind what he would say when he delivered it.

"Coming to bed, Harry?" asked Blaise with a yawn as the crowd in the common room thinned out, leaving them alone.

"You go one without me," Harry said, keeping his eyes trained on the fire, "I'll be up in just a bit."

Blaise, following the direction of his gaze, seemed to understand his intention. He shuffled off to their dormitory on his own, calling softly, "Give Padfoot my love."

Harry slowly began to put his spellbooks away, tucking Warrington's petition into his bag with the rest of his things. His eyes kept darting expectantly toward the fire, until eventually he looked up and saw Sirius's face grinning back at him.

"Hello, Harry! See you got my message," he said.

"How are you?" Harry asked, kneeling down on the hearthrug.

"Fine, just fine…" said Sirius. Seeing the dubious look on Harry's face, he quickly added, "I'm serious! No, really! Remus has been getting your letters, Harry. I don't want you to worry about me. That's why I asked you to meet me here…"

He must have thought seeing him again would bring Harry some peace of mind, but it had the opposite effect. Sirius looked as though he hadn't shaved. His dark hair was untidy. Harry couldn't be sure if his hair had more strands of gray than before, or if it was merely ash from the fire, but he looked older, more tired…

When Harry continued to look skeptical, Sirius explained, "I know I'm not getting better as fast as you'd like. But that locket… Well, it fought back, didn't it? Remus doesn't think my spell rebounded so much as… Anyway, it's likely it did put a curse on me, but that only means it's going to take a little longer to recover. You've got other things to worry about this year. How's the studying going?"

"Not that great," Harry admitted, "Umbridge forced through another decree, so now I have to go beg her to let us play Quidditch again. But it's not all bad. We've sort of thought of a way to…"

"Practice magic by forming a secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group?" Sirius concluded for him.

Harry paused, then asked, "How did you…"

"You'll want to choose your meeting place more carefully," said Sirius, his grin broadening, "The Hog's Head, honestly…"

"Were you there?" Harry asked, wondering why his godfather hadn't told him of the visit.

"Not me, but Mundungus. I asked him to keep an eye on you for me."

Harry might have resented Sirius for keeping tabs on him, but he knew it came from a place of caring. Sirius would likely have been there himself, if he could.

"While we're on the subject, Remus wants you to know that under no circumstances are you to take part in an illegal secret defense group. He says you'll be expelled and your future will be ruined. He also advises Blaise and Millie not to proceed with the group, and has threatened to inform Edana and the Bulstrodes if they don't agree. He couldn't put it all down in a letter in case it was intercepted, but I promised I would pass along the message."

"He couldn't tell me himself?" Harry asked, slightly amused by the way the message was dutifully carried out.

"He would have, but he's on guard duty tonight."

"Guarding what?"

"Never you mind," said Sirius, informing Harry beyond a doubt that it was a mission for the Order.

"Alright, tell Remus I've got the message," said Harry, "But what about you? I expect you'll want me to say that we're giving it up…"

"Certainly not! I think it's an excellent idea! Do you think your father and I would have lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge? No! This is exactly the sort of scheme we would have thought up, and despite everything Remus says, he would have been right alongside us."

"I thought Remus was the bad influence?" Harry said with a grin.

"He was. We never would have thought up half our schemes if it weren't for him and his map. So what's the plan? How many are in your group? Where are you meeting?"

"Actually, we'd been practicing down in the Chamber," Harry admitted, "But Hermione didn't like that idea, so…"

"Hermione?" asked Sirius, "Is she the Gryffindor girl you like?"

"I don't… She's not… We're just friends!" Harry lied unconvincingly, "Who told you I liked a girl in Gryffindor?"

Sirius laughed, "Oh Harry, you'd better practice your poker face! Even Dung could tell you were head over heels for that girl!"

Harry, desperate to change the subject, started to outline their plan to use the Shrieking Shack, but all at once, Sirius's expression changed.

"What is it?" asked Harry, worried that Sirius was feeling worse.

"Something's wrong…" Sirius warned. He turned to the side, seeming to stare through the solid brick wall of the fireplace. Before Harry could utter another word, he vanished.

Harry stared at the flames, wondering if he was about to reappear. But instead of his godfather's face, a hand appeared amongst the dwindling flames, groping as though trying to catch hold of something.

Harry gasped and fell backward, sitting on the floor as the hand continued its grasping search. It was a fat, ugly sort of hand, with short fingers covered in ugly old-fashioned rings…

Harry made a break for his dormitory. He didn't look back again until he was on the first stair. Umbridge's hand was still making snatching movements amongst the embers, as if she knew Sirius had been there moments before, and she was determined to seize him. Feeling sick at the close call, Harry hurried up to his room, hoping Blaise was still awake to hear his report.