Chapter 71, everybody! Y'all have been missing Snips, right?
The Weasley quintet needed a new scheme, apparently. Also had to look it up but the Spanish Inquisition line is a Monty Python reference (I think that's coming back to TV?). As for Hedwig's comment…there was an account of a woman being found dead in a stairwell, and after finding the feathers the police realized that it was a great horned owl that killed her because it hit her right. Hedwig, meanwhile, is motivated. See how you are is a line my family uses a lot.
Slytherinsal, thanks for the review! Yes it's fun, isn't it? :D
Thanks for the review, Guest! I have good news.
Slowissmooth, thanks for the review! This is a very fair point. And Neville can knock some people down, as a treat.
Juxshoa, thanks for the review! Yes! It was fun to write, so glad to hear it was fun to read. :D
Harry Potter © 1997 J.K. Rowling
Quidditch tryouts were interesting in that Ron tried out—and got in, which was even better.
"Excellent," Harry said, giving Ron a one-armed hug as the team headed back for the castle.
"It's not too terribly bad playing in front of a crowd, is it?" Ron asked.
"You'll feel like you're going to throw up the first time, after that it's background noise."
"Now don't be telling him that," Fred said. "You want him sweating a little."
"Pity we didn't have room for Ginny," George sighed. "Could have had all the Gryffindor Weasleys playing at once."
"Ginny's reserve seeker, and from the sounds of it there's enough Weasleys attending right now to fill a team," Angelina said.
"True," George said, musing. "Say, wonder if Donald is trying out?"
"Or Edmund, or Hubert," Fred agreed, equally ponderous.
"We should see."
"We should. Don't wait up!"
The team watched the twins run off with concern. "They're not actually going to try that, right?" Katie Bell asked.
"I'm more interested in seeing how they pull it off," Ginny said.
"So long as they show up to play for our team, I don't care," Angelina decided, heading for dinner.
Most all of their classes spent the first class lecturing them on the importance of their OWLS and setting an exorbitant amount of homework, which didn't really fill Harry with a lot of hope for this year and meant that Snips was the one who had to open the window for Hedwig when she came tapping.
"Uhh?" Harry noised, blinking when Hedwig came walking across his map of Jupiter's moons. "Sorry, Hedwig, been busy."
Hedwig hooted, stuck her leg out for Harry to take the letter.
"Thanks…accio Hedwig's treats," he said, flicking his wand at the dorm steps. Gave her a couple before unrolling the letter and smiling at Sirius telling him how things were at the Doghouse ("I finally won on the name, took some bribing on Remus' part but technically majority rules"). He had moved on to penning a response when Ron and Hermione came in, the former aiming for the table Harry was sitting at before collapsing into one of the chairs.
"Prefect meeting go bad?" Harry asked, blinking at him.
"I've decided the glow's worn off," Ron reported. "I have zero time, soon as Christmas holidays roll round I'm going to sleep, wake me after New Year's."
"You'd miss Christmas presents," Harry told him, despite agreeing wholeheartedly—between classes, homework, Quidditch practice, the Slug Club, and helping with remedial potions, Harry barely had time to sleep, and when he did it was to that same irritating persisting dream of the hall and the door, which had started to upgrade to making his scar prickle in the mornings.
"I would," Ron agreed, tugging the letter over. "What is this, is it from Sirius? What'd it say?"
"Sirius finally won, it's the Doghouse."
"Ha."
"At least you're doing your homework," Hermione said, coming over after completing a circuit of the dorm. "How's things?"
"We're wondering if you got a time turner again," Harry told her.
"Ugh, no—that thing drove me crazy."
"Then how are you staying on top of everything?" Ron demanded.
"It's called a day planner, Ron."
"I can't keep one of those on top of everything else, it's too much."
Harry rolled his eyes at that, looked over the letter before deciding he'd covered everything—it had taken two pages, and he had the feeling Sirius and Remus would like how Defense had gone. Heck, Mrs. Malfoy might like it, even. Rolled it up and tied it, looked at Hedwig. "You want to wait until morning for this?"
Hedwig gave him a look that said she was offended he even asked, took the letter and flew back out.
"I guess I can leave this 'til morning…what, Snips?" Harry asked when Snips squawked and waved at him—looked when Snips pointed out something on his moon chart. "I mean it could be covered in mice, no one's landed on Io yet," he said, correcting his error.
"I still need Muggles on the moon fact-checked," Ron said.
"It was in 1969," Hermione said. "Americans did it."
"Seriously? You really mean to tell me—how."
"At least I was nice enough to tell you in one word," Harry said when they were finally able to excuse themselves to bed.
"I'm sorry I asked," Ron groaned.
Aside from a little article about someone Sirius had mentioned breaking into the Ministry, the Prophet still proved to be useless, to Harry and Ron's glee—they had been trying to convince Hermione to drop it, although she was stubbornly clinging to the same reasoning Mrs. Malfoy had used. Other than that, Quidditch and homework occupied their time, and nothing noteworthy occupied the Prophet until one morning when a large article announcing the implementation of a new "High Inquisitor" at Hogwarts graced the front page.
"Sounds Spanish," Harry observed as Hermione started reading the article.
"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition," Dean said as he passed by.
"Oh this is horrible!" Hermione said, reading the article aloud to them—highlights included Umbridge being an "immediate success" ("Yeah right, she can't keep students in her class," Ron muttered), the "falling standards at Hogwarts" ("According to her," Harry said darkly), and the approval of one Lucius Malfoy ("Who's busy with a divorce and really has no standing with his family right now," Harry added). The article ended with a lot of smearing of Dumbledore and anyone who dared to associate with him.
"Feel like cancelling your subscription now?" Harry asked her when she finished.
"Oh this is outrageous," Hermione seethed—had a double-take at Ron. "Why are you so happy?"
"Oh I can't wait to see her do McGonagall," Ron said, grinning. "Umbridge will never know what hit her."
Fred and George reported that Umbridge inspected their Charms class, while Ron brought the news that she inspected Divination.
"And I tell you what, I'm not a big fan of Trelawney but boy did she give her a hard time," Ron told them. "Umbridge, I mean, not Trelawney—Umbridge gave Trelawney a hard time."
Defense that afternoon probably should not have opened with them asking Umbridge if she was inspecting her own class—after that everyone kept their heads down and eyes on their books, which technically looked very much like the Slinkhard book that had been assigned. In reality, most all of them had swapped out the interiors with preferred reading and propped their books up so all Umbridge really saw was the cover for Defensive Magical Theory. As far as Harry could tell, it kept her happy.
Slughorn's inspection had the highlights of him trying to calculate how long he had worked at Hogwarts ("I came back from retirement after what happened to Severus—terrible thing") and Umbridge questioning the curriculum in general and Snips in particular, the latter of which spent the class hiding in the rafters and hissing down at her whenever she came too close.
"What is that?" she demanded.
"None of us know," Slughorn admitted. "He's Harry's familiar, great nose for potions, been helping me as of late—I understand Scamander's been doing a case study on him, really should see how that's going…."
Harry did not like how Umbridge was eyeing Snips.
Ron's prediction of McGonagall's inspection was spot-on and was going to be Harry's new Patronus memory for a very long time.
"Nobody talk to me," Ron said after Transfiguration that day. "I want that fixed in my mind, I want to always remember this day."
Grubbly-Plank's inspection was a bit different—Harry had the distinct feeling Umbridge was really fishing in this one, hoping she might find something that would give her good reason to sack Hagrid when he came back. A few of the Slytherins were happy to give her accounts of the dangers of the class, Pansy in particular relishing telling her about the Skrewts—Draco had a sour look on his face and Harry knew he had one too; yes Hagrid was a fine teacher but it was hard to spin the Skrewts in a positive light.
"Draco dear, I understand your father is on the school board?" Umbridge asked him sweetly.
"Last I heard," Draco said stiffly, ears pinking as everyone tried very hard to act like they weren't listening.
"And would you say your family's favorable position led Professor Hagrid to granting you favors?"
"Come again?"
"I understand the Hippogriff you have registered to you came from Professor Hagrid—"
"Oh dear," Blaise muttered.
"Now let me stop you right there!" Draco said loudly, rounding on Umbridge fully. "I got Buckbeak because I worked my butt off to prove I could handle him, and it took Hagrid, Slughorn, and my mum signing off on it! Weasley over there asked for a Niffler one class and Hagrid told him no and gave a reason why—"
"Although Mr. Weasley's father isn't on the school board," Umbridge said, not losing her smile.
"Weasley's dad is in the Ministry," Draco hissed. "My dad hasn't managed to pull that one off yet. And you can tell your boss that his slush funds are about to dry up, because Mum's about to take him to the cleaners."
With that, Draco stomped back off to the castle.
"Okay, you know what?" Ron said as they all watched him go. "I can live with having him as a neighbor."
Professors Vector, Sinistra, Babbling, Hooch, and Sprout all passed inspection, from what they heard—Babbage got a hard time from Umbridge, according to the grapevine, and Binns never did get inspected.
"Binns was probably teaching when Umbridge attended," Ron said. "You've attended one of his classes, you've attended them all."
"You are not flaking on History of Magic," Hermione scolded.
"Would he even notice?"
"Seeing as how Binns makes history boring, Umbridge probably approves of that," Harry said. "Wonder why she gave Babbage a hard time?"
"Probably because she teaches Muggle Studies," Hermione said. "I heard from one of the girls in my year that she was pretty dismissive of teaching wizards to have a positive outlook on Muggles."
"We need to drop the moon bomb on her next class," Ron decided. "In the meantime."
In the meantime they hadn't really had the spare time to try and get Ron's camera working at Hogwarts, although that wasn't for lack of wanting to. Ron had snuck a book on film into his copy of Defensive Magical Theory, and Harry and Hermione had been keeping an eye out in their Ancient Runes class for anything that might help. Hermione, of course, had done as much extra reading as she could manage on top of everything else and continuing to advocate for the Society for the Promotion of Magical Beings. At least she was getting more bites now that she was doing more than just demanding house elf wages.
"So what I've been able to figure is that due to all the magic and wards in and around Hogwarts, there's such a disturbance that it affects any and all electronic devices by interrupting their electric currents," Hermione said, drawing a simple diagram so they could follow along. "The main problem with the camera, I think, comes from the fact that Hogwarts is also enchanted so Muggles can't see it—so that also means they can't record it. Are you with me so far?"
"So to make the camera work we have to make it magical," Ron summarized.
"Right. I think we have a sequence that might work, but I'm loathe to try it because then if we're wrong we could damage the camera."
"Would writing it on Spellotape work?"
"Maybe, but there's still the issue of it possibly frying the interior."
"I could ask Sirius to get us some spare cameras when Hedwig comes back," Harry offered. "All he'd have to do would be to go in and ask for the cheapest models."
"And how would he explain that?"
"His godson is in a film club?"
"That works," Ron said—looked up at a tap on the window. "Hey, speaking of—Hedwig's back!"
"All right!" Harry cheered, popping up to open the window for her. "Hey girl, how was your…Hedwig? Help!" he squawked, scooping her up and hauling her in.
"She's hurt!" Hermione exclaimed. "What happened—did she get attacked—"
"Death Eaters, I bet," Ron said. "Oh that's low."
"We gotta take her to someone," Harry said, wracking his brain—Hagrid was out, obviously, since he wasn't here—
"Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, pointing at her office door—they ran over, Ron banging on the door until she tugged it open.
"What is it and why couldn't it wait until a reasonable hour?" she demanded.
"It's Hedwig, professor," Harry said.
Professor McGonagall quickly ushered them in, tossing some green powder into the fire—Professor Grubbly-Plank was stepping out a moment later.
"What is it and why couldn't it wait until a reasonable hour?" she demanded.
"Potter's owl has been injured," McGonagall told her.
"Oh dear—let me see."
She gave Hedwig a once-over, taking note of her ruffled and broken feathers and the way she was holding one wing at an odd angle. "Something definitely attacked her," Grubbly-Plank said. "Not sure what—Hagrid's got the school Thestrals trained not to attack owls."
"Will she be okay?" Harry asked, feeling like someone had scooped half his innards out and the other half was wanting to join them.
"She'll be fine, give her a few days with me and she'll be right as rain—no long-distance flights for a while, though."
"Where was she flying from?" McGonagall asked him.
"The Doghouse," Harry told her.
"The what?"
Harry shrugged. "Sirius won the naming pool."
"Oh good grief."
Snips stuck around to listen to Harry read the contents of the letter(s) to his friends—the mutt and the wolf, as predicted, had found Harry's Defense antics enormously amusing, and while Mrs. Malfoy seemed to as well she cautioned Harry to be careful around Umbridge, saying she had already given Draco the same advice. Her letter, at least, very much echoed McGonagall's advice—which probably meant Harry wasn't going to take it.
He waited until the troublemaking trio was in bed (it took Harry a long while to fall asleep, still fretting about Hedwig) before slipping off, resolving as he flew through the castle that he was going to get this stupid collar off of him before it was all over with—it was the exact opposite of aerodynamic and very annoying.
It took him a while to find Grubbly-Plank's office—slipped in when he did, crawling along the rafters before dropping down to Hedwig's cage.
'I know it wasn't a Thestral that attacked you,' he told her.
'I am going to get that woman,' Hedwig seethed. 'I don't know how, but I'm going to get her—if a great horned owl can kill a person I'm sure willing to bet a snowy can.'
'Please be more specific.'
'That stupid toad! She tried to intercept Harry's letter!'
That stupid toad—Umbridge.
'It doesn't surprise me one bit that she's intercepting the mail,' he said. 'Probably you're not the first owl she's done this to.'
'I wonder how many she's injured then—she can't get away with this.'
'Agreed,' Snips said, flapping his wings slightly. 'The Owlery is probably empty right now.'
'Probably,' Hedwig sighed, resting her head against the cage bars and closing her eyes—currently she was nestled in a thick nest of blankets with what smelled like several healing poultices on her injuries. Slip down to better sniff at them—fine, Grubbly-Plank knew her beans. 'How's Harry?'
'Took forever to fall asleep, thanks to you.'
'Oh, like I did this on purpose.'
'See how you are?' Return to the top of the cage, sigh as he scanned the office. Definitely looked like she was here on a temporary basis, although it did bear asking the question of what on earth Hagrid was doing being absent for so long.
'You going to sit there all night?' Hedwig asked.
'I might,' he told her. 'Then I'll be heading for the Owlery to ask the other owls if they've been intercepted too.'
'And then at breakfast you can nip over to Ravenclaw table and tell Mauve to convene another Order meeting.'
'Or I could tell Trevor.'
'Mauve is easier to find.'
'Fair enough.' Consider the bar width, small enough to keep a snowy owl in but wide enough for him to squeeze through. Slip in, settle next to Hedwig's head, loop his tail loosely around her neck.
'Sap,' she murmured sleepily.
'That doesn't leave this room.'
Snips did indeed leave for the Owlery as soon as dawn started threatening.
He didn't count on being intercepted, nor did he account for being in a garish pink room when the cover was ripped off his cage, or an ugly toadish face leering down at him.
"I know you're a breach of the Ban on Experimental Breeding," Umbridge hissed at him. "Only one of your kind? Oh, Hagrid already has those Skrewts against him but this nets me Potter as well."
Snips screeched angrily, rattling his cage and trying to get loose—no dice, she had enchanted it so he couldn't reach through or chew on the bars, levitating it up to where he wouldn't be seen when someone walked in—and then silenced for good measure.
This was not good at all.