Hermione and Ron ran in the direction of the Hospital Wing as soon as they turned in their History of Magic exams. They caught sight of Harry sprinting near the marble staircase.
"Harry!" said Hermione at once, her heart pounding with fear. "What happened? Are you all right? Are you ill?"
"Where have you been?" demanded Ron.
"Come with me," Harry said quickly. "Come on, I've got to tell you something."
He led them along the first-floor corridor, peering through doorways, and finally found an empty classroom into which he dived. The moment they were inside, he closed the door behind Ron and Hermione and leaned against it, facing them.
"Voldemort's got Sirius."
"What?"
"How d'you –?"
"Saw it. Just now. When I fell asleep in the exam."
Hermione's mind raced. How could this have happened? She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach; something about this didn't seem right at all.
"But – but where? How?" said Hermione tentatively, trying to piece together the fragments of Harry's story.
"I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven... he's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there... he's torturing him... says he'll end by killing him!"
Harry moved over to a desk and sat down on it shakily. He looked so pale and weak that Hermione's worry only deepened.
"How're we going to get there?" he asked them.
There was a moment's silence as both Hermione and Ron processed what Harry had said. That was NOT what she had anticipated Harry would ask. Ron was able to get the words out before her.
"G-get there?" Ron stammered.
"Get to the Department of Mysteries so we can rescue Sirius!" Harry said manically.
"But – Harry…" said Ron weakly.
"What? What?" said Harry, his eyes wild with desperation.
"Harry," said Hermione in a rather frightened voice, "er... how... how did Voldemort get into the Ministry of Magic without anybody realising he was there?"
"How do I know?" bellowed Harry. "The question is how we're going to get in there!"
Harry was losing it. Hermione knew she had to tread very, very lightly.
"But... Harry, think about this," said Hermione, taking a step towards him, hoping he wasn't too far gone to listen to rational logic, "It's five o'clock in the afternoon... the Ministry of Magic must be full of workers... how would Voldemort and Sirius have got in without being seen? Harry... they're probably the two most wanted wizards in the world... you think they could get into a building full of Aurors undetected?"
"I dunno, Voldemort used an Invisibility Cloak or something!" Harry shouted. "Anyway, the Department of Mysteries has always been completely empty whenever I've been –"
"You've never been there, Harry," said Hermione quietly. "You've dreamed about the place, that's all."
"They're not normal dreams!" Harry shouted in her face, standing up and taking a step closer to her in turn. It was all she could do not to take a step back.
Stay calm, stay calm, she told herself, forcing herself to hold her ground.
"How d'you explain Ron's dad then? What was all that about? How come I knew what had happened to him?"
"He's got a point," said Ron quietly, looking at Hermione.
Damn it, Hermione thought, feeling the situation slip further out of her control. Ron, don't encourage this!
"But this is just – just so unlikely!" said Hermione desperately, her voice rising in pitch. "Harry, how on earth could Voldemort have got hold of Sirius when he's been in Grimmauld Place all the time?"
"Sirius might've cracked and just wanted some fresh air," said Ron, sounding worried. "He's been desperate to get out of that house for ages –"
Hermione wanted to scream at Ron to shut up, but tried to hold it together.
"But why," Hermione persisted, "why on earth would Voldemort want to use Sirius to get the weapon, or whatever the thing is?"
"I dunno, there could be loads of reasons!" Harry yelled at her. "Maybe Sirius is just someone Voldemort doesn't care about seeing hurt –"
"You know what, I've just thought of something," said Ron in a hushed voice. "Sirius's brother was a Death Eater, wasn't he? Maybe he told Sirius the secret of how to get the weapon!"
"Yeah – and that's why Dumbledore's been so keen to keep Sirius locked up all the time!" said Harry.
Hermione could feel the panic rising within her. She had to stop this before it spiralled out of control.
"Look, I'm sorry," she cried, trying to keep her voice steady, "but neither of you is making sense, and we've got no proof for any of this, no proof Voldemort and Sirius are even there –"
"Hermione, Harry's seen them!" said Ron, rounding on her.
Hermione knew she couldn't keep it in any more. The two of them were working each other up, and it was no time for political correctness.
"OK," she said, looking frightened yet determined, "I've just got to say this –"
"What?"
"You... this isn't a criticism, Harry! But you do... sort of... I mean – don't you think you've got a bit of a – a – saving-people thing?" she said, forcing herself to keep looking at Harry instead of dropping her stare.
He glared at her.
"And what's that supposed to mean, a 'saving-people thing'?"
Harry's voice had dropped to barely more than a whisper, which was, in Hermione's opinion, much more terrifying than screaming.
"Well... you…" she looked more apprehensive than ever. "I mean... last year, for instance... in the lake... during the Tournament... you shouldn't have... I mean, you didn't need to save that little Delacour girl... you got a bit... carried away…"
Hermione's whole body was buzzing with fear, but she pushed on, trying to be as articulate as possible under the circumstances.
"I mean, it was really great of you and everything," said Hermione quickly, looking positively petrified at the look on Harry's face, "everyone thought it was a wonderful thing to do –"
"That's funny," said Harry in a trembling voice, "because I definitely remember Ron saying I'd wasted time acting the hero... is that what you think this is? You reckon I want to act the hero again?"
"No, no, no!" said Hermione, looking aghast. "That's not what I mean at all!"
"Well, spit out what you've got to say because we're wasting time here!" Harry shouted.
"I'm trying to say – Voldemort knows you, Harry! He took Ginny down into the Chamber of Secrets to lure you there. It's the kind of thing he does. He knows you're the – the sort of person who'd go to Sirius's aid! What if he's just trying to get you into the Department of Myst—?"
"Hermione, it doesn't matter if he's done it to get me there or not – they've taken McGonagall to St Mungo's, there isn't anyone from the Order left at Hogwarts who we can tell, and if we don't go, Sirius is dead!"
"But Harry – what if your dream was – was just that, a dream?" Hermione pleaded once more.
Harry let out a roar of frustration. Hermione actually stepped back from him this time, petrified.
"You don't get it!" Harry shouted at her, his voice echoing in the empty classroom. "I'm not having nightmares! I'm not just dreaming! What d'you think all the Occlumency was for? Why d'you think Dumbledore wanted me to stop seeing these things? Because they're REAL, Hermione—Sirius is trapped, I've seen him. Voldemort's got him, and no one else knows, and that means we're the only ones who can save him! And if you don't want to do it, fine, but I'm going, understand? And if I remember rightly, you didn't have a problem with my saving-people thing when it was you I was saving from the Dementors, or—" he rounded on Ron "—when it was your sister I was saving from the Basilisk—"
"I never said I had a problem!" said Ron heatedly, his face flushing with frustration.
Hermione seized the moment, the brief switch of Harry's attention to Ron finally allowing her to articulate the logic she was so desperate for him to hear.
"But Harry, you've just said it," said Hermione fiercely, her heart hammering in her chest as she clung to this one chance to reason with him. "Dumbledore wanted you to learn to shut these things out of your mind. If you'd done Occlumency properly, you'd never have seen this—"
"IF YOU THINK I'M JUST GOING TO ACT LIKE I HAVEN'T SEEN—"
"Sirius told you there was nothing more important than you learning to close your mind!"
"WELL, I EXPECT HE'D SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT IF HE KNEW WHAT I'D JUST—"
The classroom door opened suddenly. Hermione, Ron, and Harry whipped around. Ginny walked in, looking curious, followed by Luna, who, as usual, looked as though she had drifted in accidentally.
"Hi," said Ginny uncertainly, glancing between the three of them. "We recognised Harry's voice. What are you yelling about?"
"Never you mind," said Harry roughly, his temper barely in check.
Ginny raised her eyebrows, clearly unimpressed. "There's no need to take that tone with me," she said coolly. "I was only wondering whether I could help."
"Well, you can't," snapped Harry shortly.
"You're being rather rude, you know," said Luna serenely, her calm demeanour a sharp contrast to the tension in the room.
Harry swore and turned away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Hermione's mind raced. She didn't know whether it was actually a good plan or just an insane exhaustion-laden one, but she felt as though she had no choice.
"Wait," blurted Hermione, her voice cutting through the tension. "Wait... Harry, they can help."
Harry and Ron looked at her, confusion etched on their faces.
"Listen," she said urgently, the words tumbling out of her mouth haphazardly. "Harry, we need to establish whether Sirius really has left Headquarters."
"I've told you, I saw—"
"Harry, I'm begging you, please!" said Hermione desperately, her voice trembling. "Please, let's just check that Sirius isn't at home before we go charging off to London. If we find out he's not there, then I swear I won't try to stop you. I'll come. I'll do whatever it takes to try and save him."
"Sirius is being tortured NOW!" shouted Harry, his eyes wild. "We haven't got time to waste."
"But if this is a trick of Voldemort's, Harry, we've got to check, we've got to."
"How?" Harry demanded, his voice filled with impatience. "How're we going to check?"
"We'll have to use Umbridge's fire and see if we can contact him," said Hermione, surprised and terrified to hear the words coming out of her mouth. This is insane, but what else can we do? "We'll draw Umbridge away again, but we'll need lookouts, and that's where we can use Ginny and Luna."
Though clearly struggling to understand what was happening, Ginny said immediately, "Yeah, we'll do it," Luna added, "When you say 'Sirius', are you talking about Stubby Boardman?"
Nobody answered her.
"OK," Harry said aggressively to Hermione, "OK if you can think of a way of doing this quickly, I'm with you. Otherwise, I'm going to the Department of Mysteries right now."
"The Department of Mysteries?" said Luna, looking mildly surprised. "But how are you going to get there?"
Again, everyone ignored her.
"Right," said Hermione, twisting her hands together and pacing up and down between the desks. "Right... well... one of us has to go and find Umbridge and—and send her off in the wrong direction, keep her away from her office. They could tell her—I don't know—that Peeves is up to something awful as usual…"
"I'll do it," said Ron at once. "I'll tell her Peeves is smashing up the Transfiguration department or something. It's miles away from her office. Come to think of it, I could probably persuade Peeves to do it if I met him on the way."
It was a mark of the seriousness of the situation that Hermione did not object to the smashing up of the Transfiguration department.
"OK," she said, her brow furrowed as she continued to pace. "Now, we need to keep students right away from her office while we force entry, or some Slytherin's bound to go and tip her off."
"Luna and I can stand at either end of the corridor," said Ginny promptly, "and warn people not to go down there because someone's let off a load of Garrotting Gas." Hermione looked surprised at the readiness with which Ginny had come up with this lie; Ginny shrugged and said, "Fred and George were planning to do it before they left."
"OK," said Hermione. "Well then, Harry, you and I will be under the Invisibility Cloak, and we'll sneak into the office, and you can talk to Sirius—"
"He's not there, Hermione!" Harry interrupted his frustration mounting.
"I mean, you can—you can check whether Sirius is at home or not while I keep watch. I don't think you should be in there alone; Lee's already proved the window's a weak spot, sending those Nifflers through it."
Even through his anger and impatience, Hermione hoped Harry would see her offer to accompany him into Umbridge's office as a sign of solidarity and loyalty.
"I... OK, thanks," he muttered, his anger abating slightly.
"Right, well, even if we do all of that, I don't think we're going to be able to bank on more than five minutes," said Hermione, looking relieved that Harry seemed to have accepted the plan, "not with Filch and the wretched Inquisitorial Squad floating around."
"Five minutes'll be enough," said Harry. "C'mon, let's go—"
"Now?" said Hermione, looking shocked. She thought they'd at least have a little more time to plan now that Harry had calmed down.
"Of course now!" said Harry angrily. "What did you think, we're going to wait until after dinner or something? Hermione, Sirius is being tortured right now!"
"I—oh, all right," she said desperately. "You go and get the Invisibility Cloak, and we'll meet you at the end of Umbridge's corridor, OK?"
Harry didn't answer but flung himself out of the room and down the corridor out of sight.
"Are you barking mad?" Ron shouted at Hermione after Harry left.
"You were the one agreeing with him," Hermione yelled back. "Someone had to do something, or that nutter would be flying a broom to London alone."
"Can someone please tell me what the bloody hell is happening?" Ginny interrupted.
"Harry thinks he had another vision like he did of your dad," Hermione said flatly. "Except, this time, it was Voldemort and Sirius in the Department of Mysteries because, you know, that makes perfect sense that they both are in the Ministry without anyone recognising them."
"I mean, it's not completely out of the realm of possibilities," Ron said stubbornly. "But sneaking into Umbridge's office? That's bloody barking!"
"Do you have a better idea?" Hermione shot back, her nerves frayed beyond belief.
"No, but now you're gonna have to go through with it because Harry's going to get back down here any minute and isn't going to be convinced otherwise."
"You don't think I know that?!" yelled Hermione, her voice cracking under the pressure.
"OK, well, it seems you don't have much of a choice," Ginny said, her tone surprisingly calm. "You two go in there, and if Luna or I can't stop someone or if Umbridge is coming, we'll just... we'll sing 'Weasley is our King.'"
"Okay, that should work," Hermione said, rubbing her eyes until she saw little pinpoints of light behind her eyelids. "Let's head over there, I guess."
Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Luna made their way over to Umbridge's corridor, and just a moment later, Harry came running up to them.
"Got it," he panted. "Ready to go, then?"
"All right," whispered Hermione as a group of loud sixth-years passed them, their chatter echoing down the corridor. "So, Ron—you go and head Umbridge off... Ginny, Luna, if you can start moving people out of the corridor," Hermione paused to take a deep breath, steadying herself, "and Harry and I will get the Cloak on and wait until the coast is clear."
Ron nodded, giving Hermione a lingering look before heading off down the passage. Ginny and Luna also followed suit in the opposite direction, their footsteps fading into the distance.
"Get over here," muttered Hermione, tugging at Harry's wrist and pulling him back into a recess where the ugly stone head of a medieval wizard stood muttering to itself on a column. "Are—are you sure you're OK, Harry? You're still very pale."
"I'm fine," Harry said shortly, pulling the Invisibility Cloak from his bag. "Here," he added as he threw the cloak over both of them. They stood silently, listening carefully over the Latin mumblings of the bust in front of them.
"You can't come down here!" Ginny was calling to the crowd. "No, sorry, you're going to have to go round by the swivelling staircase—someone's let off Garrotting Gas just along here—"
They could hear people complaining; one surly voice said, "I can't see no gas."
"That's because it's colourless," said Ginny in a convincingly exasperated voice, "but if you want to walk through it, carry on, then we'll have your body as proof for the next idiot who doesn't believe us."
Slowly, the crowd thinned. The news about the Garrotting Gas spread, and people were no longer coming that way. When, at last, the surrounding area was quite clear, Hermione said quietly, "I think that's as good as we're going to get, Harry—come on, let's do it."
They moved forward, covered by the Cloak. Luna was standing with her back to them at the far end of the corridor. As they passed Ginny, Hermione whispered, "Good one... don't forget the signal."
"What's the signal?" muttered Harry as they approached Umbridge's door.
"A loud chorus of 'Weasley is our King' if they see Umbridge coming," replied Hermione as Harry inserted the blade of a knife into the crack between the door and the wall. The lock clicked open, and they slipped inside the office.
The garish kittens were basking in the late afternoon sunshine that warmed their plates, but otherwise, the office was as still and unoccupied as before. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
"I thought she might have added extra security after the second Niffler."
They pulled off the Cloak; Hermione hurried over to the window and stood out of sight, peering down into the grounds with her wand out. Hopefully, between Ginny, Luna, and herself, they could keep a lookout long enough for Harry to do what he needed to do.
Hermione heard Harry cry, "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" and the whoosh of Floo powder being thrown into the fire.
Hermione shut her eyes briefly, willing Harry to immediately see Sirius at the kitchen table so they could all safely return to their dormitories and finally get some sleep.
Opening her eyes was harder than it should have been. Her eyelids felt heavy, and her eyes were so dry that they felt like sandpaper as she forced them open.
The castle grounds were nearly empty, with only a few first- and second-year students enjoying the fresh air, probably trying to avoid all of the cranky fifth- and seventh-year students. Hermione's mind drifted to Professor McGonagall. She hoped with all her heart that the formidable teacher would fully recover. Seeing someone so strong and proud reduced to a lifeless heap at the hands of such an evil woman was maddening, though Hermione knew the full rage hadn't hit her yet. She was too exhausted for such strong emotions to surface.
The door to Umbridge's office suddenly flew open with a crash. Millicent Bulstrode barreled in like a rugby player. Hermione was so caught off guard that she knocked her wand against the side of the window as she turned, nearly losing her grip. In the seconds it took her to regain control, Millicent somehow defied physics by sprinting from the office door to the window. As Millicent slammed Hermione's body against the wall, Hermione had a fleeting, almost hysterical thought about how someone so large and clearly out of shape could possibly move so fast.
"I got 'er!" Millicent grunted, her breath reeking as she pressed closer. "Look, P'fessa, I got 'er!"
But Professor Umbridge didn't answer. Hermione watched in resigned horror as the pink-clad figure ran straight at Harry, yanking him from the fire. Umbridge grabbed Harry's head by the hair, forcing him to look up at her.
"You think that after two Nifflers, I was going to let one more foul, scavenging little creature enter my office without my knowledge?" she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "I had Stealth Sensoring Spells placed all around my doorway after the last one got in, you foolish boy. Take his wand," she barked at Malfoy, who had entered the room behind Millicent. "Hers, too."
Millicent removed her massive forearm from Hermione's throat and snatched her wand away. Hermione felt a cold emptiness where her wand had been. She felt utterly defenceless.
"I want to know why you are in my office," demanded Umbridge, her voice shaking with fury.
"I was—trying to get my Firebolt," Harry croaked, his voice barely audible.
"Liar!" she hissed, shaking Harry's head back and forth as if she could rattle the truth out of him. "Your Firebolt is under strict guard in the dungeons, as you very well know, Potter. You had your head in my fire. With whom have you been communicating?"
"No one—"
"LIAR!" Umbridge screamed, throwing Harry into her desk so forcefully that the wood creaked under the impact.
A commotion erupted outside, and several large Slytherins entered the office, each gripping Ron, Ginny, Luna, and—to Hermione's bewilderment—Neville, who was trapped in a stranglehold by Crabbe and looked in imminent danger of suffocation. Hermione was horrified to see that all four of them had been gagged.
"Got 'em all," said Warrington, shoving Ron roughly into the room. Hermione caught Ron's eye, silently asking if he was okay. He gave her a slight nod, though his lip was bleeding. "That one," Warrington pointed at Neville, "tried to stop me taking her," he gestured towards Ginny, who was fiercely trying to kick the shins of the large Slytherin girl holding her, "so I brought him along too."
"Good, good," said Umbridge, watching Ginny's struggles with a disturbing smile on her face. "Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?"
Malfoy laughed loudly, his voice grating in its sycophancy. Umbridge gave her wide, complacent smile and settled herself into a chintz-covered armchair.
"So, Potter," she said with an air of mockery, "you stationed lookouts around my office and sent this buffoon," she nodded at Ron—Malfoy laughed even louder—"to tell me that the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes—Mr Filch having just informed me so.
"Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall; I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone."
Malfoy and a few of the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad sniggered cruelly at that.
"It's none of your business who I talk to," Harry snarled, his anger barely contained.
Umbridge's slack face tightened, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Very well," she said in her most dangerous, falsely sweet voice. "Very well, Mr Potter... I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco—fetch Professor Snape."
Malfoy left the room, and an eerie silence fell, broken only by the fidgeting and scuffling of the Slytherins as they struggled to keep Ron and the others under control. Ron's lip was bleeding onto Umbridge's carpet as he struggled against Warrington's half-nelson; Ginny was still trying to stamp on the feet of the sixth-year girl who had her upper arms in a tight grip; Neville was turning steadily more purple in the face as he tugged at Crabbe's arms; and Harry was bracing himself against the desk, shaking with fury. Luna, however, stood limply by the side of her captor, gazing vaguely out of the window as though rather bored by the proceedings.
Hermione knew she had to think of something, but the overpowering stench emanating from Millicent was clouding her already exhausted brain. She struggled to find some fresh air just as footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Draco Malfoy returned, holding the door open for Snape. Hermione's heart sank, desperately hoping that, as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Snape might help them.
"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" Snape asked, his expression indifferent as his cold eyes swept over the struggling students. Hermione's tiny spark of hope evaporated.
"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge, smiling widely as she stood up again. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."
"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter," Snape replied coolly, observing her through his greasy curtains of black hair. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient."
Umbridge flushed an ugly shade of pink.
"You can make some more, can't you?" she asked, her voice becoming sickeningly sweet, a sign that her anger was rising.
"Certainly," Snape said, his lip curling in disdain. "It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in about a month."
"A month?" squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. "A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just caught Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"
"Really?" Snape said, showing the first faint sign of interest. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules."
"I wish to interrogate him!" Umbridge shouted, her fury mounting. "I need you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"
"I have already told you," Snape replied smoothly, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter—and I assure you, I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did—I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too quickly to allow for much truth-telling."
"You are on probation!" shrieked Umbridge, her face contorted with rage. Snape's eyebrows rose slightly in mock surprise. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better—Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"
Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave.
"He's got Padfoot!" Harry shouted suddenly, his voice desperate. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"
Snape had stopped with his hand on the door handle.
"Padfoot?" Umbridge cried, looking eagerly from Harry to Snape. "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"
"I have no idea," Snape replied coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me, I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little. If Longbottom suffocates, it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if you ever apply for a job."
He closed the door behind him with a sharp snap. Hermione stole a glance at Umbridge, whose chest was heaving with rage and frustration.
"Very well," Umbridge said, her voice trembling with barely contained excitement as she pulled out her wand. "Very well… I am left with no alternative... this is more than a matter of school discipline... this is an issue of Ministry security... yes... yes…"
Hermione watched in horror as Umbridge seemed to talk herself into something dreadful. The woman was shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot, her wand tapping rhythmically against her palm, her breathing growing heavier. Hermione's heart pounded in her chest. Whatever Umbridge was about to do, it wouldn't be good.
"You are forcing me, Potter... I do not want to," Umbridge continued, still pacing restlessly. "But sometimes circumstances justify the use... I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice…"
Malfoy was watching her with a hungry expression, eager to witness whatever torment she was about to inflict.
"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue," Umbridge said quietly, her voice dripping with malice.
"No!" shrieked Hermione, her voice cracking with fear. "Professor Umbridge—it's illegal!"
But Umbridge didn't seem to hear her. There was a nasty, eager, excited look on her face that Hermione had never seen before. She raised her wand, and Hermione's heart nearly stopped.
"The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!" cried Hermione, desperate to buy some time to think of a plan.
"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," Umbridge said, panting slightly as she pointed her wand at various parts of Harry's body as though trying to decide where it would hurt most. "He never knew I ordered Dementors to go after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same."
"It was you?" gasped Harry, shock and anger flashing in his eyes. "You sent the Dementors after me?"
"Somebody had to act," breathed Umbridge, her wand now pointing directly at Harry's forehead. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow—discrediting you—but I was the one who actually did something about it... only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today though, not now—" She took a deep breath and cried, "Cruc—"
"NO!" shouted Hermione in a cracked voice. "No—Harry—we'll have to tell her!"
Hermione didn't necessarily know what they had to tell Umbridge, but she did know she had to stop her. Her mind raced, trying to form a plan even as she pretended to cry weakly into the back of Millicent Bulstrode's robes. Millicent immediately stopped trying to squash her against the wall, stepping away in disgust. Hermione's mind worked frantically. Who could they possibly claim to have been contacting that would distract Umbridge? A plan began to form, a desperate, risky plan.
"Well, well, well!" said Umbridge, looking triumphant. "Little Miss Question-all is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!"
"Er—my—nee—no!" shouted Ron through his gag, his voice muffled but desperate.
Ginny was staring at Hermione as though she had never seen her before. Neville, still struggling for breath, was gazing at her, too. Hermione couldn't meet their eyes.
"I'm—I'm sorry, everyone," said Hermione, her voice trembling as she forced herself to continue. "But—I can't stand it—"
"That's right, that's right, girl!" said Umbridge, seizing Hermione by the shoulders and thrusting her into the abandoned chintz chair. She leaned over her, eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Now then... with whom was Potter communicating just now?"
"Well," gulped Hermione, hiding her face in her hands so Umbridge wouldn't notice there were no actual tears, "well, he was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore."
There was a stunned silence. Ron froze, his eyes wide with shock; Ginny stopped struggling against her captor; even Luna looked mildly surprised. Fortunately, Umbridge and her minions were too focused on Hermione to notice these reactions.
"Dumbledore?" said Umbridge eagerly, her excitement palpable. "You know where Dumbledore is, then?"
"Well… no!" sobbed Hermione. "We've tried the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley and the Three Broomsticks and even the Hog's Head—"
"Idiot girl—Dumbledore won't be sitting in a pub when the whole Ministry's looking for him!" shouted Umbridge, her face contorting with disappointment.
"But—but we needed to tell him something important!" wailed Hermione, pressing her hands tighter over her face, more to disguise the absence of tears than out of anguish.
"Yes?" said Umbridge, her excitement returning. "What was it you wanted to tell him?"
"We… we wanted to tell him it's r—ready!" choked Hermione.
"What's ready?" demanded Umbridge, shaking Hermione slightly in her impatience. "What's ready, girl?"
"The… the weapon," said Hermione shakily.
"Weapon? Weapon?" Umbridge's eyes seemed to bulge with excitement. "You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore's orders, of course?"
"Y—y—yes," gasped Hermione, "but he had to leave before it was finished, and n—n—now we've finished it for him, and we c—c—can't find him t—t—to tell him!"
"What kind of weapon is it?" said Umbridge harshly, her stubby hands gripping Hermione's shoulders tightly.
"We don't r—r—really understand it," sniffed Hermione, "we j—j—just did what P—P—Professor Dumbledore told us t—t—to do."
Umbridge straightened up, looking exultant. "Lead me to the weapon," she said.
"I'm not showing… them," said Hermione shrilly, casting a fearful glance at the Slytherins surrounding them.
"It is not for you to set conditions," snapped Umbridge, her voice harsh.
"Fine," said Hermione, now sobbing into her hands again. "Fine… let them see it. I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads and loads of people to come and see! Th—that would serve you right—oh, I'd love it if the wh—whole school knew where it was, and how to u—use it, and then if you annoy any of them, they'll be able to s—sort you out!"
Umbridge's eyes flicked suspiciously over her Inquisitorial Squad, her gaze lingering on Malfoy, whose greedy expression had not gone unnoticed. She contemplated Hermione for a long moment, then spoke in what she clearly thought was a motherly tone.
"All right, dear, let's make it just you and me… and we'll take Potter, too, shall we? Get up, now." Hermione did her best to hide her smirk.
"Professor," said Malfoy eagerly, "Professor Umbridge, I think some of the Squad should come with you to look after—"
"I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy. Do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers alone?" Umbridge asked sharply. "In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these—" she gestured at Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna "—escape."
"All right," said Malfoy, looking sulky and disappointed.
"And you two can go ahead of me and show me the way," Umbridge ordered, pointing her wand at Harry and Hermione. "Lead on."
As they left the office, Hermione's mind raced. She had managed to get them out of Umbridge's office… now what?