CHAPTER 11

Draco and his friends are once again waiting for me when I make it to the common room. "I'm starving," he says to no one in particular. "Let's go eat some breakfast. Father told me to look out for an article in the paper, something about Umbridge."

"Do you think she'll be leaving Hogwarts any time soon?" I ask as we exit the common room.

"I don't believe that's what this particular article is about."

Crabbe speaks up, "And besides, Umbridge just being here seems to be putting a damper on Potter and his friends. Why would we ever want her to leave?" Because she's a toad-faced demon? "Let someone else be miserable here for a change. It's nice to see. Brings me joy.

Having never experienced Hogwarts without her presence, there's no way for me to know whether things were truly that much better without her, but from what little I know about her and have seen from her in the past week, it seems that everyone must be right that Hogwarts was better before she arrived. Anyone who would willingly just waste hours of my life each week on a boring book and pointless homework without ever allowing me to get any practical experience—especially if that person is a teacher—is someone who does not deserve my respect in the slightest. She's a waste of time and space here.

Draco and most of the other Slytherins would probably never agree, but Umbridge is more of a curse on Hogwarts than anything else, no matter how she tries to portray herself. That woman has a temper, and it would be a shame to cross her. Anyone putting on that much of a show about being a Ministry-approved professor here to right the wrongs of previous DADA professors has to be hiding something.

We take our usual seats at the Slytherin table. "Any closer to figuring out the Vanishing Spell?" I ask Draco.

He grimaces. "I finished the reading after you went to bed last night. Other than, I'm not any closer."

"I could help you, Draco," Pansy offers, leaning over Crabbe to get closer to Draco. "I've almost done it finally."

Only part of me feels bad for her. She genuinely looks like she would like to help him and would enjoy the act of doing so, but Draco doesn't seem to recognize this and says, "I don't need your help. Charlotte's really good, and she's helping."

Pansy looks away quickly as if she has been struck and starts a conversation with the other fifth-year girls, including Daphne who happens to be sitting near us today. She meets my eye for a second, and I wonder briefly if that exchange between Draco and Pansy will be another tirade to which Pansy will subject the rest of the girls in our year later. With any luck, she might find time to complain about it to me.

"Here it comes!" Draco rejoices when the owls swoop into the room.

"Do you know what the article's about?"

He shakes his head at me. "A vague idea but nothing more." A copy of the Daily Prophet lands on the table in front us, and Draco quickly tears it open to find whatever Umbridge article his father told him about. A smile spreads across his face as he peruses the paper, and I am slightly nervous to learn what has managed to make him this happy. Surely it can't be good news. I find myself sliding closer to him so I can read the paper over his shoulder. "This is wonderful," he comments quietly. "Finally, someone will put old Dumbledore in his place."

"What's it say?" I ask, feeling a sinking in the pit of my gut.

Draco clears his throat, takes a deep breath, and begins reading the article. "In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"'The Minister has been growing uneasy about the goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,' said Junior Assistant to the Minster, Percy Weasley. Looks like at least one of the Weasleys managed to escape their blood traitor family. 'He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.' Thanks for that, Father."

Draco clicks his mouth a few times, his eyes skimming down the page. ". . . the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor.'

"'This is an exciting new phase in the Minster's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the "falling standards" at Hogwarts,' said Weasley. 'The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.'

"This is magnificent," Draco laughs softly.

This can't be happening. This can't be happening. Umbridge in charge? No, no, no, no. This can't be true. She's an awful person. Who would let her be High Inquisitor of anything? And why is Draco so thrilled about it? How can he be so blinded by his hatred of Harry and his friends to honestly believe giving Umbridge more power is a good idea? "It seems the Ministry has finally realized that some of the things here at Hogwarts are out of place. Now we'll finally see the reforms my father has been begging for." He smirks, looking far too smug. "Someone can finally put Dumbledore in check. He's had free reign for far too long."

If someone is trying to find ways to have power over someone as venerable as Dumbledore, they cannot be trusted. Dumbledore is the only wizard Voldemort has ever feared, and if someone wants to remove him from his post or silence him in any way, in my mind they are no better than Voldemort's Death Eaters.

And Umbridge inspecting the professors? I don't want to deal with her more than necessary, and yet it seems like she will unfortunately be in more classes now. Can't she keep her toad face out of everyone else's business? Neither Draco nor his posse seem to share this sentiment, however, so I keep it to myself.

I hold my breath when we get to Herbology with Ravenclaw, silently praying for no Umbridge, and am greatly relieved when she does not make an appearance. The class goes by slowly, and every few minutes, Draco complains with a muttered, "Seriously, why is this even a necessary class? It's not like I'll ever use it after Hogwarts."

When we leave Herbology, I set aside my fear of Snape informing Voldemort about me and Draco and purposefully fall into stride with Draco as we make our way to Potions; Snape glances at us briefly, rewarding my pettiness with a short, suspicious glare as we enter the classroom. "Why does he always look at you like you've just set the castle on fire?" Draco whispers to me.

"I don't know," I lie. "I guess he still doesn't trust me after our disagreement before the term started."

"Which you haven't told me about by the way," Draco says.

I catch Snape's eye and grimace at him for a second before answering, "I'll tell you about it later."

Class starts, and Snape circulates through the room, handing back our essays. "These are graded the way that they would be on your O.W.L.s. It should give you a realistic idea of what to expect on your official examination."

I look down at my essay. There is a large letter E on it. "What does this mean?" I ask Draco quietly.

"Exceeds Expectations," he answers.

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah," he says, grinning at me, "almost as good as this!" He shows me his essay, which has a large letter O written across it. "It means 'Outstanding.' One notch above E." He winks at me.

"I hate you," I hiss sarcastically. Snape looks over at us, clearly telling us to stop talking but likely not wanting to reprimand his chosen prefect Draco even if that means allowing me to quietly talk out of turn, and moves back to the front of the room.

"The general standard of this homework was abysmal," Snape sneers. "I expect much better on your essays over the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to the dunces who get D's."

Draco sniggers in a whisper loud enough for all to hear, "Some people got D's? Ha!" Snape smirks at the remark as if he actually found Draco's crassness amusing, and I wonder whether he humors Draco in order to not be questioned too much by Lucius or actually finds Draco amusing.

Class goes by rather quickly after that, and Draco and I turn in our vials of potion for the day's grade. As we place them on Snape's desk, Snape gives me a quick but evil glare that I gladly respond to a smile. Draco and I leave the classroom but quickly separate, Draco going to his free period and me going to Arithmancy.

Hermione is already in the classroom by the time I arrive. "You've heard the news, I'm guessing?" I sigh, taking my normal seat next to her.

She huffs. "Yeah." She taps the table a few times before growling, "Who lets Umbridge decide if the other professors are doing their jobs correctly? Anyone with half a brain can see that she is the worst professor here! She's even worse than Snape!"

"After those two weeks I was stuck here, I thought he was as bad as they come. But now I see how wrong I was."

"And it's not like the Ministry even truly knows what's going on here at Hogwarts. They hear one thing—probably from Malfoy's father—and just assume Dumbledore is running the place into the ground! Dumbledore is the best headmaster Hogwarts could ask for, and now they're trying to ruin it!"

"At least we have one thing to look forward to."

"And what's that?"

"Umbridge won't stand a chance against McGonagall when she inspects Transfiguration. And as much as I detest Snape, he doesn't play games. Umbridge stands no chance against either of them, and it should be entertaining to watch their classes get inspected."

Before she can say anything, Professor Vector calls out, "Quiet down," and class begins.

I manage to avoid Umbridge until Defense Against the Dark Arts, where I have no other choice but to sit under her authority and dream about horrid things befalling her. "How was Arithmancy?" Draco asks quietly as we sit down.

"Same as usual, I suppose. Not bad. Better than Divination, I imagine."

"Wands away," Umbridge commands, ceasing her humming and trying to look pleasant. "As we finished chapter one last lesson, I would like you all to turn to page nineteen today and commence chapter two, 'Common Defensive Theories and Their Derivation.' There will be no need to talk."

Sighing, I open my book. Something about this woman just makes me hate her, really. "You mean you didn't actually do the reading beforehand this time?" Draco chuckles quietly.

"It's Umbridge's class," I answer casually, "I refuse to read on principle that it's her class. Not to mention, had I read it beforehand, what would I have now to pass the time?"

He smiles at me, and we turn our attention to our books, trying our best not to continue talking. It doesn't quite work, for Draco says, "Are you trying to convince me that Professor Rodgers didn't do the reading because she hates a fellow professor?"

I bite my cheek to keep from laughing. "Quiet, she'll get angry."

"Professor Rodgers badmouthing a fellow professor?"

"Draco," I hiss, "stop, we'll get in trouble. I do not want a Dolores Umbridge detention. Who knows what kind of heinous things she does?"

"You could always ask Potter, I suppose," he says this like it would be the worst punishment in the world. Draco's eyes follow Umbridge around the room. "Besides, I don't think we're the ones she'll be punishing." His voice is absolutely giddy, and I follow his gaze to find out why.

Umbridge has approached Hermione, who once again sits with her book closed and her hand raised, and bends down so she and Hermione are face-to-face, speaking so quietly I cannot hear the next few words. In fact, I cannot hear anything until Hermione says, in a regular voice, not whispering as Umbridge has been, "Yes, I do." A few of the other students turn their attention to the scene as well. "Mr. Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, does he? But I think they can be very useful when they're used defensively."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Umbridge gives up on whispering now considering half the class is around giving their undivided attention to her conversation. "Well, I'm afraid it is Mr. Slinkhard's opinion, and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger."

"But—"

"That is enough." Umbridge goes back to her desk, no longer acting sweet and kind as she had been when we first came to class. "Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor House."

Draco sniggers. "Serves them right."

"What for?" Harry growls. Hermione quickly whispers something to him.

"For disrupting my class with pointless interruptions," Umbridge says. "I am here to teach you using a Ministry-approved method that does not include inviting students to give their opinions on matters about which they understand very little. Your previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more license, but as none of them—with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects—would have passed a Ministry inspection—"

"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher," Harry nearly shouts, "there was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head."

Everything and everyone go completely silent. That actually happened to Quirrell? How does that happen to someone? Did he survive it?

"I think another week's detentions would do you some good, Mr. Potter."

Draco laughs softly and says to me, "This day just keeps getting better."

"You'd think Potter would have learned his lesson by now," Goyle laughs that next morning at the breakfast table.

"Hey!" Crabbe says suddenly. "Let him keep doing it! It's good to know that there's another professor here besides Snape who'll put Potter in his place."

"Oh, watch this!" Draco points to the Gryffindor table on the other side of the Great Hall. "That's Angelina Johnson, the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team."

The Slytherins watch gleefully as Angelina Johnson begins shouting at Harry Potter over at the Gryffindor table. In that moment, McGonagall dashes from the staff table and rushes to the students in her House. We can't hear what's going on, but Draco seems certain that Harry is getting into some sort of trouble. "With any luck, McGonagall will be taking points away from Gryffindor."

I smile to myself when we get to Transfiguration and find Umbridge there and ready for the inspection.

We all chat with one another until McGonagall says, "That will do." Everyone falls silent immediately. "Mr. Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework—Miss Brown, please take this box of mice—don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you—and hand one to each student—"

"Hem hem," Umbridge says.

McGonagall ignores the other woman and continues on as if she hadn't made any sort of noise at all. Seamus returns my paper, and I smile to myself when I see the O. Draco glares jokingly at me when he sees it and shows me his E. "Right then, everyone listen closely—Dean Thomas, you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention—most of you have now successfully Vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have the gist of the spell. Today we shall be—"

"Hem hem," Umbridge repeats.

"Yes?" McGonagall says, rounding on Umbridge.

"I'm actually quite excited," Draco whispers to me. "Can't wait to see which professor comes out on top."

It'll be McGonagall, obviously.

"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec—"

"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom." A smile wider than necessary comes to my face. "As I was saying, today we shall be practicing the altogether more difficult vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell—"

"Hem hem."

"I wonder," McGonagall speaks coldly and furiously as she once again rounds on Umbridge, "how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit talking while I am talking."

Umbridge looks as if she has just been slapped in the face with ice, and I look over at Draco, who, while he is slightly smiling, does not seem as pleased as he was when reading about Umbridge taking the position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor.

McGonagall turns to the class once more. "As I was saying, the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult . . ."

I don't really listen to her explain more about the Vanishing Spell because I already know how it works, but for the rest of the class I watch Umbridge, who does not even attempt to interrupt McGonagall again and instead sits in her corner wearing a grim expression while feverishly taking notes. It's clear that if she writes anything negative about McGonagall, it is a complete lie. It must really burn her that there are professors here who do everything correctly.

"I could hardly Vanish the snail," Draco complains. "Now we have to Vanish mice?"

"Don't worry too much about it," I assure him. "It's not as difficult as it seems."

"Then why don't you Vanish the mouse?" Pansy hisses. "If it's so easy, show us." I glance up at her, my brow furrowed in confusion because I had forgotten she was there. Beside her, Tracey (I think she's Tracey) watches me demandingly. "Go on then, do it."

Sighing, I wave my wand and quietly say, "Evanesco." The mouse disappears.

Pansy, red-faced and fuming, jabs her wand into her mouse, and when it tries to run away, she slams her hand on its tail and drags it back.

"Parkinson," McGonagall, now behind us, says coolly, "do that to the mouse again, and I shall take points from your House."

Pansy glares at her, but that glare quickly softens when McGonagall looks at me and says, "See me after class."

"Yes, Professor," I say softly.

"What'd you do now, Rodgers?" Pansy questions.

"I don't know."

"Surely you must. You had to do something, and I'm going to find out eventually. You might as well just tell us."

"I don't know what I did," I huff, "but I know what I will do if you don't shut up."

"Was that a threat?"

"Yes."

Before Pansy has a chance to reply again, Draco says, "Look! Its tail's gone!"

I can't help but smile at him and pat his arm. "Congratulations. Now if only you could make the rest of it disappear. . . ."

"I'll get it eventually, I'm sure." He grins at me, then adds with a wink, "Maybe you could help me, Professor Rodgers."

"Oh, I'd love help you, Mr. Malfoy."

Pansy makes it a point not to look at me.

"I'll meet you for Care of Magical Creatures," Draco says while the students begin filing out of the classroom.

Umbridge approaches McGonagall's desk, and I wait quietly in my seat. I look over and see Harry, Ron, and Hermione falling back from the other students to listen to what Umbridge has to say. "How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asks the Gryffindor professor.

"Thirty-nine years this December," McGonagall answers quickly, snapping her bag shut.

Umbridge makes a note. "Very well, you will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time."

"I can hardly wait," McGonagall says indifferently before turning to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Hurry up, you three." They rush off to the next class Slytherin has with them, Care of Magical Creatures, and I walk toward the desk. Nothing is said until Umbridge leaves the room. "Rodgers, I believe last week we discussed how you would proceed in this class."

"I . . . um, I don't—I don't understand."

"Rodgers, you are ahead in Transfiguration due to reasons in your past you do not speak of," she says. "It was you who said that it would be counterproductive for you to excel beyond the students here at Hogwarts, and yet—"

"Is this because of the mouse? Professor, I thought you'd be proud," I laugh.

Professor McGonagall rises to her feet, towering over me, and I feel myself cowering away from her. "This is not a joke," she snaps. "Dolores Umbridge could've seen you—"

"So you're angry because Umbridge could have seen me?" I interrupt her.

"If Dolores Umbridge suspects anything is off about you, the fake identity that you and Professor Dumbledore have concocted could be destroyed."

"So, this isn't about you fearing that Umbridge will mark it against you that a Durmstrang student is ahead of your Hogwarts students?"

"Five points from Slytherin. I will not tolerate that sort of disrespect." I watch her carefully, the frown line on her face deepening, and feel my heart quicken, panic rise in my chest. Do not turn her against you by being rude. You might need her. "Rodgers, as a professor at Hogwarts, it is my job to ensure the safety and protection of the students—"

"I'm not a real student, and you know that," I cut in coldly, ignoring the warning my pounding heart is trying to give me.

"Twenty-five points from Slytherin," she snaps, "and if you disrespect me like that again, I shall have to put you in detention."

I clench my teeth. Merlin, I hate this place. "It's not like I did it on purpose, Professor," I say. "Pansy ques—"

"It does not matter what Miss Parkinson did. What matters is that you risk yourself by being anything but ordinary in front of Dolores Umbridge."

My breath catches in my throat, and all at once, the frustration and anger and panic dissipate, leaving me deflated and ashamed of how I spoke to her. "You . . . you're worried about me, Professor?"

"It is my job to worry about the well-being of all of the students."

My chest aches, and I want to run. "I'll be more careful in front of her. I . . . I'm going to be late to class, Professor." She does not stop me when I rush away.

"What was that about?" Draco asks me when I finally get out to the grounds for class.

"It doesn't matter," I answer softly, not wanting to discuss it. People here at Hogwarts actually care about what might happen to me? Someone other than Draco, who's only really my friend because he knows something about my importance to Voldemort? My chest feels heavy.

Care of Magical Creatures is relatively useless to me. Making class even worse is the fact that the professor is odd. Nobody seems to enjoy the subject, especially not the Slytherins, who find themselves to be above most of what is taught at Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Hermione openly hate Draco, and in return he openly hates them. I remain neutral during the arguments because I'm trying to stay on cordial terms with Hermione, who is best friends with Ron and Harry.

During the inspection of this particular class, Umbridge asks if there have been any injuries sustained during Hagrid's teaching. Draco smirks at me, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy before saying, "That was me. I was slashed by a hippogriff." Not this story again.

"A hippogriff?" Umbridge asks in her oddly sweet voice.

"Only because he was too stupid to listen to what Hagrid told him to do," Harry says angrily.

Ron and Hermione both groan loudly as Umbridge gives Harry another detention. I can't help but feel pity for him. According to Draco, Harry and his friends are friends with Hagrid, have been since their first year, which is probably why Harry defended him. Draco only smirks at the fact that the famous Potter got yet another detention, and because of him no less.