...
In the last few weeks of summer, activities increased for the DA.
They hadn't gone on anymore raids, though there had been two. They were both sudden; only one Death Eater had been sent to scout ahead an hour before. The capture of 15 of his followers seemed to put a damper on their twisted reindeer games.
The dementors were a different problem; most of them had defected from the prison and were the newest members of the Voldemort's terror squad. They were a topic of discussion in the last summer meeting of the DA at Firewall Castle.
"It won't be long until he's setting them on muggle towns," Sally-Anne cried.
"Perks," Slytherin Sophie Roper growled. "You know there's nothing we can do about dementors unless we know where they're going to be before they get there. Your bleeding heart can't change the facts."
"And even then, our patronus spells are untested against real dementors," Kevin Entwhistle noted.
"Which is why we're going to be practicing the patronus for thirty minutes every meeting," Harry interrupted. "And I'll see about finding a boggart or two to simulate the effects."
"But the attacks-" Sally-Anne began again.
"We haven't seen an attack like the last one since we stopped them. He's probably paranoid about traitors and now they're even more unpredictable," Harry stopped her. "We got involved because we had the information ahead of time and we did good with it."
The girl sighed but nodded.
"The dementors are still a problem," Hermione acknowledged.
"Especially on a battlefield," Gareth agreed. "Patronus' ward them off but anyone casting won't be able to cast anything else. Not to mention they're very draining."
"So, we need to be looking into alternative methods to dealing with dementors."
"They're impossible to destroy," Lucy Hurst said.
"Yes but there has to be more than one spell or shield that's effective against them. Start by looking at spells similar to the Patronus, other soul magic, dark creature books, whatever we've got."
"I'll organize it in the journal," Hermione agreed.
"Now we need to talk about our schedule for the coming term," Harry continued. "And our first meeting has to be aimed at getting everyone up to speed."
"How many spells have we picked up that they don't know?"
"At least twenty offensive and six healing."
"We've kept a list in the journals with information about the theory," Hermione said. "We copied pages directly from the books so everyone should be up on the theory."
"Everyone who isn't here has been writing in their journals plenty," Blaise said.
"Ernie especially," Just Finch-Fletchley offered. "His family's holed up in their manor; he says he's been practicing his spells."
"We'll all pitch in some memories we think they should be up to date on," Harry decided.
"Including the St. Asaph ambush," Ron added.
"Everyone's clear on what we need to be doing within the houses?" Blaise asked, looking around.
"With the lower years?" Seamus clarified.
"With getting the lower years to listen to us and making sure each house knows their prefects have safety plans in case of an attack," Blaise answered. "They'll all be told not to talk about it outside of the house because each house has a different plan."
"The prefects will visit each dorm in small groups during the first week of school to make sure the students know and the professors don't," Hermione picked up. "After that, it's just making sure that the younger years look up to us."
"That won't be hard," Susan Bones said as she strode into the room a little late; it was getting harder to dodge her aunt Amelia. The intelligent woman recognized something was going on with her niece and she only had a week to figure it out before the girl was back at school. "We've tutored most of them already and we're probably going to take over defense tutoring entirely this year."
"Did you hear who the new defense professor will be?" Harry asked the DMLE director's niece.
"The Minister's Undersecretary," she confirmed grimly.
There was a few moments of silence before the room erupted in noise.
Harry didn't even try to stop it.
"Oh that's bad," he said to Hermione. "That's really, really bad."
"Really, really bad."
"It gets worse," Susan said loudly, waiting for the room to quiet so she could continue. "He's appointing her as the High Inquisitor. The Ministry passed a new rush regulation since it's a week before term and Dumbledore has no professor."
"You think, with him heading a secret society, he could convince one of them to teach," Ella drawled.
"If we'd known it was this bad we could have pushed for one of the recent graduates to try," Harry groaned as he let his head fall into hands.
"Umbridge is a nasty, nasty woman," Hermione said angrily. "The vile things she says and the laws she supports…"
"You should see her office in the ministry," Susa said. "Bright pink and kitten themed."
There were noises of disgust.
Ron took over easily.
"Fred, George, I want to know everything there is to know about Umbridge in the last week or so we've got before she gets to the castle. I want to know how she takes her tea, I want to know the color of her toothbrush-"
"Pink," someone interrupted.
"Well you get the idea," Ron waved off.
"Greengrass, Wilkins, get with Lovegood and the Browns," Zara spoke up now. "There's skeletons in Umbridge's closest — we need to know what they are."
"If Umbridge is bad enough, I can get rid of her," Harry said. "As Lord Gryffindor, I can do that."
"To do that you'd have to claim full Heir's Rights to Hogwarts; that'd dissolve the Board of Governors," Hermione said immediately. "You'd be buried under more paperwork than you're prepared to deal with."
"Not if I reform a new Board directly after."
"You'd need twelve people that can't necessarily be connected to you personally."
"Well come up with a list of people to choose from as a just in case."
"This is all a worst-case scenario thing anyways," Kevin began. "Right?"
"The worst-case scenario was Umbridge," Susa said. "Trust me. I've met her at Ministry functions. She's just…ugh."
"I'll start looking into it," the Gryffindor bookwork said. "Between than and the patronus research, I should have some answers within a week."
Of course, she was who she was and a week had been a generous estimate. Within a day, Hermione had come up with a solution to their untested Patronus' problem. Using Harry's various memories of dementors and a pensieve, they could simulate the effects and have everyone practice the patronus. The spells would have no effect on the memory-dementors but they could just pause and play the memories as needed.
Practice would make perfect.
…
When the DA filed into the Great Hall, Umbridge was, indeed, sitting at the head table.
She was wearing an atrocious pink cardigan over a darker pink dress. Her fat little feet were stuffed into pink heels and her pantyhose had a pinkish hue. Even her unpleasant jowls were powdered pink.
"Look at that bloody hat," Ron said, eyes painfully wide as he took in the pink monstrosity. "Like something my great Aunt Muriel would wear."
"Looks like she borrowed the neck ruffle from your dress robes," Harry agreed.
"We swore never to talk about them, mate."
"You're just lucky I had a spare set."
"I'll say."
They all settled into their seats at the house tables. Ron, Harry, and Hermione had met the Weasley family at King's cross and employed a judicious silencing charm while Molly screeched at them. Their ears were still ringing.
"Sorting Hat looks a bit off, doesn't it?" Harry nudged Hermione, pointing to the hat McGonagall was arranging on a stool.
"Off?" she asked.
"Just a bit more stiff than usual."
"Maybe someone finally repaired it," she commented. "Or hit it with a scourgify at least."
"No respect for a thousand year old artifact, Ms. Granger?" Harry teased.
"What happened to bushy book-worm from first year?" Ron teased, taking his eyes off of the empty dinner platters momentarily.
"Stuff it, Ronald."
The students finishing filling in the tables. Harry noted that, across the hall, the few Slytherin DA members had positioned themselves near enough to the problem students to keep an eye on them. Malfoy was well within Harry's line of sight.
"There's something off about Malfoy," he muttered to Ron.
The ginger carefully observed the boy. "Looks greasier than normal."
"Like one of those evil guys from the movies," Neville commented, referring to the movies the muggleborns and halfbloods had introduced their friends to.
"I'd like to check the Death Eater map, see if there's any more within Hogwarts," Ron said back.
"You don't really think…"
"Students names won't register on the map until they're in Hogwarts for a few minutes," Harry told Hermione. "We'll see after the feast."
"Pay attention," Hermione said, nodding to the doors.
The first years were being led into the hall. Harry and Ron were carefully counting them and he knew that one of the Ravenclaws were prepared to write down the name and house of each new first year.
"I wonder what the Sorting Hat will sing about," Hermione said.
"You think it'll have something important to say?" Ron asked.
"Hogwarts a History refers to the Sorting Hat as the voice of Hogwarts. It's possible that it might."
"But not likely."
"When has anything around Harry ever been likely?"
"Why're you dragging me into this?" Harry complained.
"Shh," she hissed.
The Sorting Hat visibly shuffled for a few seconds before the wide brim opened and he began his yearly song. It did not take long for everyone's interest to be piqued; this song was notably different than the others in the years before.
Harry ignored Hermione's 'I told you so' look.
"Each year I sing a song to you,
Whose content you ignore;
I had thought to make this one about the founding four.
I would have sung of unity,
Of joining all together,
But now I fear impunity is what we all must weather.
There stands today amongst us,
A group we should revere,
Indeed, with them around, you shan't have much to fear.
They house the finest of the snakes,
And of the eagles too;
Badgers aren't in short supply,
And the lions pride rings true."
Around the room, the DA members were trying very hard not to shift. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out which group the hat was referring to. Everyone else was very confused though. Harry could see Morag MacDougal, who'd be taking down the names of the first years and already had a quill at hand, was scribbling down the lyrics to the Sorting Hat's speech.
"Dark times, they are a'coming,
Of that we all now know.
Denial gets you nowhere when a rooster's due to crow.
It's time now that I warn you,
About what you must do —
Find your footing, Hogwarts,
Declare your allegiances true.
Gryffindor is coming,
The Lord of which I mean,
And what he shall bring with him these halls have never seen.
The dark should be afraid,
Terror mounting in their hearts,
But Hogwarts do not fear —
there is light within our hearth.
It's up to you to fan it,
Keep embers burning true,
But watch out for the traitors,
They're already within you.
Here you may find shelter,
From storms brewing in the pale,
But take care, dear students, and beware,
For darkness comes over hill and over dale."
Harry was about ready to choke just a little bit. Was the hat fucking psychic or something? Why hadn't he said something about Harry being Lord Gryffindor during last year's innocuous song?
"To our staff I give a message,
One which I caution you to heed,
Now is not the time to fail your pupils needs.
Learning we must uphold,
As Ravenclaw foretold,
But defense must be forthright,
As Slytherin would bode.
Here I must rebuke you,
Headmaster and teachers too,
For you have failed your duties,
As few are ever wont to do."
The whole room was muttering quietly at that line. The teachers, Umbridge especially, were beginning to look uncomfortable. McGonagall, who was nearest the hat, looked as if she were tempted to somehow smother the headgear.
"There runs unchecked amongst you,
A fair and favored few;
Belittlers, bullies, and blood-purists too.
Contemptible behavior, is, in any form,
Classified as harmful when conveyed as a norm.
Because you lot have faltered,
You have been relieved —
No longer does Hogwarts require you to intercede.
Sit before your placemats,
Content with discontent,
And know that The Lady Herself will monitor intent.
For those of you who favor an inelegant regime,
And insist on crying 'Mudblood' or 'blood-traitor' with intent to demean —
You will find a lack of tolerance within these castle halls,
And you will discover the ears upon the walls.
Fifty points shall be docked and detention remanded,
To any who use language that is heavy handed."
There were some definite noises of disgust and disagreement. The teachers looked like they didn't know what to say, chagrined expressions growing on their faces. None looked more murderous than Severus Snape, although Umbridge was looking quite nasty.
"Alas, I am the Sorting Hat,
As well you all have known,
It's time to do my duty,
And sort you to your homes.
Find your friends amongst them,
But do not be divided;
Fall apart or stand together,
We'll see with time that's bided."
There was a long period of very awkward silence. Dumbledore, surprisingly, had made no move to stand or explain the hat's last statements.
"Aberly, Carren," McGonagall said weakly after a moment.
"Bloody hell…"
"Sh," Harry said shortly. "We'll talk tonight. Not here."
Thrown off as she was by the Sorting Hat, as were the other teachers, Umbridge forgot to make her speech. She could make an abridged version in the classroom, she assured herself.
…
"50 points shall be docked and detention remanded?" Seamus cried. "Oh bloody hell did anyone else see Malfoy's face?"
"Did you see the professors faces?" Padma asked, laughing.
"McGonagall looked like she swallowed a lemon," Parvati added.
"I think the hat wants to tip our hand more than you do, Potter," Ella chortled.
"Morag can you recite the speech for us again?" Harry asked, hands holding his head.
The brunette girl ran through the entire thing again.
"I mean it sounds as if someone else at the castle has gotten tired of the deplorable state of the disciplinary system," Hermione hypothesized.
"Maybe this is the castle getting on a war footing?"
"I hardly think punishing people for derogatory language is equivalent to getting on a war footing," Zara opined, gently polishing the head girl badge pinned to black and yellow robes.
"50 points docked every time they call someone a mudblood?" Sophie Roper clarified. "Might well put some of the Slytherins on a war footing."
"How do you think they plan to enforce it?" Justin Finch-Fletchley asked.
"I don't think there is a 'they.'"
"The hat said the walls have ears," Hannah Abbott pointed out.
"So maybe the portraits?" Zacharias posed.
"Or the ghosts," Justin added.
"I'd assume it's the portraits," Hermione agreed. "But I never thought about the ghosts."
"Let's break this down bit by bit," Lisa Turpin said, taking the parchment from Morag and enlarging it before spelling it onto a large board they'd added by the dining tables.
"Feels weird being back in here after the ballroom," Ron muttered to Harry.
"Yeah," Harry agreed.
"Alright," Lisa said, tapping her quill to her chin. "The first part's pretty clear — the hat knows about us. The second part is a warning; the bit about traitors within worries me."
"Well there's Snape."
There were a couple other murmurs.
"And there's Draco Malfoy," Sally-Anne cried from near the map.
"What?"
"He's marked!"
There was an immediate clamor; Harry didn't even try to move to confirm it with the map, just watching as Blaise approached the wall and clued in on the Slytherin dorms.
"Quiet, quiet," Harry pushed irritably.
"It's Malfoy alright, his goons and Nott too," Blaise confirmed after a second.
There were a few disgusted noises.
"They're so young…" Scarlett said almost sadly.
"And now they're marked Death Eaters," Harry warned. "Keep sharp around them and their friends. I want them hit with the tracker just in case there's more students we missed."
"I'll make it happen," Katie Bell volunteered.
"Who has first class with Umbridge tomorrow?"
"Third year puffs and claws," Mandy answered. "Think the first of our lot that'll have her will be the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins."
"Add a note into the journals about her; if she assigns detentions, I want to know who, when, and why," Harry directed. "Flora, Hestia, you're going to take up watching her, right?"
"Yes," the answered before Hestia stopped to let Flora finished. "We're going to bug her office tonight. Fred and George provided us with a few tools."
"Don't get caught," Harry warned.
"We won't."
"It seems like you'll be outed as Lord Gryffindor this year, Harry," Lisa continued once the excitement had died down.
"I think we should all expect to be outed this year," Hermione said. "Which is why everyone is going to be provided with individual copies of their contract. If you're caught, you can show them. This will reveal both you and Harry so only do it as a last resort."
"Also seemed like the Sorting Hat was a bit miffed with the professors."
"More than a bit miffed."
"Everyone keep an ear out tomorrow — I want to know if anyone's seen this new system in action," Harry said. "And I want to make sure the Chamber of Secret's fully stocked with food and calming draughts, furnished, and ready for the whole school. We're sure we mapped every cranny?"
"The only thing we haven't found are the nargles," Luna said dreamily.
She'd been the one to do the final walkthrough of the chamber and made sure everything was added to the Marauder's map. Harry just nodded; if Luna said it was clear, it was clear.
"And the forest exit is completely blocked off?"
"Just a cave in now," Seamus confirmed. "My handiwork."
"Also, I have another little project I'd like to start."
"Every time you say little project, Potter, it turns out to be a massive debacle." Ella said mockingly. Used to the semi-abrasiveness of the Slytherin heiress, the entire group knew there was no real bite to her words, just friendly teasing.
"You might be right this time Ella," he said with a laugh. "But this is Neville and I's project."
"Oh?" Ella asked, arching a brow and directing a bit of her scrutiny at Neville.
"It started with my wanting an alliance with the centaurs," he began.
Immediately, more than a few people scoffed.
"I know," he spoke over them. "I know, that was the general consensus. But if we can just talk to the centaurs, I feel like they could be convinced to defend the forest if not the castle. The Death Eaters aren't likely to respect their neutrality."
"They're more likely to shoot you with an arrow than they are to listen," Ernie commented.
"I thought that too. Then I thought, what if we had something to offer them?"
"What could we have that would interest them?" Ernie asked.
"Herbology," Neville said brightly.
"What?"
"Herbology," he answered again, not seeming to mind that few people had faith in his favorite subject. "The centaurs live off of the land but they don't have any of the greenhouses or farming areas or techniques that we do."
"So we offer them food?" Ron asked, still prone to moments of slowness.
"That might work on yourself or mountain trolls, Ronald, but not on centaurs," Hermione answered.
"I dunno, figure a club to the head works on mountain trolls better," he joked.
Hermione shook her head and smiled despite her exasperation.
"Anyways," Neville continued. "We've got a map of the forest and we know roughly the areas inhabited by which creatures. The centaurs have three main parts of the forest. If we test the soil and fauna in the area, we can determine the pH levels and assemble a collection of seeds from edible or useful plants."
"So we offer them plants?" Ron corrected.
"Yes," Harry answered simply.
"Neville's right though," Graham Romsey, seventh year Hufflepuff and healer, spoke up. "I know for a fact some Asiatic fungi and tree vines would do well in this area near the river bend."
"I was actually thinking of a whole slew of Tea Tree's because Asiatic vines tend to be invasive. Then some spinach on this upper plateau," Neville said excitedly, looking as if he was ready to delve into chatter right at that moment. "We could build fungi boxes and plant boxes secured to trees. Some echinacea maybe."
"See?" Harry asked. "And even if the centaurs refuse to help us, I still want to help them."
"They aren't used to it so maybe they'll reciprocate if we act first," Hermione theorized.
"The ministry has been pretty heavily restricting their territory; Umbridge's been advocating with that lot for ages." Sophie Roper said, summoning a map of the forest.
"How does that help us, other than having a mutual enemy?" Ron asked.
"Well I believe there's more than a few land parcels for sale near the base of these mountains," Sophie said, pointing. "But no one buys them because the forest is a protected reserve and can't be deforested — they'd pretty much just pay land taxes for a bit of nothing."
"And the centaurs don't already inhabit these lands?"
"They've tried to, but since the ministry technically governs it they've been pushed out of it. It's been warded specifically against them."
"So we could buy it and give it to them."
"And we could plant on it for them ahead of time."
They all agreed to make arrangements for Neville and other herbology lovers to plan forays into the Forbidden Forest.
"If we're gonna do spinach we need to do it at the very least six weeks before the first frost…" he could be heard muttering.
After a few more minutes of chatting, Harry cleared his throat and began to close off the meeting.
"Well everyone, welcome back to Hogwarts. Anyone not at the castle over the summer can join Daphne and Hermione at the front to review the pensieve. Those memories will be there tomorrow too."
"Wait, my aunt said something last night," Susan spoke up.
"Yeah?" Harry asked.
"We were having a bit of mead and she let loose a little. Mostly on a turn about the Ministry and she said something about training the aurors better or 'someone will step up and start doing their job for them again,'."
"But other than that we've not heard any whispers about that raid?"
"No," Susan agreed. "I'm thinking that the response force they sent was small enough to keep it secret and we know none of them were Death Eaters. But, something else auntie said is bothering me."
"What is it, Sue?" Neville asked, vanishing an empty butter beer absentmindedly.
"She said that departments in the ministry need to cooperate better, share information. She said withholding information or making it inaccessible gets people killed," Susan pushed a red lock of hair behind her ear. "I can't help thinking that we've got six Death Eater aurors identified and we're not sharing that. Any one of them could curse her in the back."
The emotion in the girls voice was both present and understated. She was explaining her point logically despite her strong feelings on the matter.
"Susan's right," Lucy spoke up. "Problem is getting Madam Bones on our side."
"You think that's even possible?" Eddie Carmichael asked. "I mean this is Amelia Bones we're talking about."
"It's my auntie that we're talking about," Susa interjected. "She'd hear me out."
"But would she agree to hear you out after signing a secrecy contract?" Daphne interjected. "Some of us can't afford for the Director of the DMLE to decide she doesn't like what's going on here and expose us to Dumbledore."
"She wouldn't do that," Susa said stubbornly.
"But she probably won't sign the secrecy contract without knowing why," Hannah said softly to her best friend.
"You could get her to agree to a basic secrecy oath. Something like 'I swear not to reveal or talk about what we discuss for the duration of this conversation.'" Wayne Hopkins suggested.
"Give her the basics then see if she's agree to the contract…" Harry said musingly.
"Amelia Bones could be a really valuable ally," Ron said thoughtfully. "We already knew that but we've never considered making her immediately aware."
"It raises another problem, Susan," Harry told her with a frown.
"What?" Susan asked a bit defensively.
"Sirius Black."
"Ruddy hell," Dean cursed. "Didn't even think of that."
"And the countless laws we're flaunting. There's a lot for her to disagree with, objectively speaking," Hermione added.
"I'm asking you guys to trust me," Susan said after a moment of grumbling and whispers. "This is my auntie, I know her. I'll start with a basic secrecy oath then tell her a little about the group and ask her to sign the contract at the end."
Everyone looked at each other for a moment, meeting Susan's eyes.
It was Blaise that spoke up first.
"I trust her," he said, dark eyes flitting around the tables and making eye contact. They seemed to hold a challenge; I trust her, do you?
One by one, heads nodded.
"Fire up the pensieve, Mione," Harry said after a moment. "Let's figure out what exactly you're going to tell Madam Bones…"
…
The sixth year Slytherins and Gryffindors were milling about the defense corridor, waiting for the doors to open.
Precisely on the hour, the door swung open firmly.
Umbridge was standing at the top of the short staircase that led up to her office, the higher vantage point allowing her to preen over the students. Harry, Hermione, and Ron watched her with veiled disgust as they settled into seats in the middle of the room.
The reports from the DA hadn't been good and it was only the third day of classes. Colin's little brother, Dennis, was the only student who had been assigned detention. He had yet to serve it and would on Thursday night.
Umbridge began descending the sweeping stairs; her pale pink shoes clinked obnoxiously, a perfect match to her fuzzy knitted dress. A black velvet bow sat atop her head, held in place by magic just behind the coquettish coif.
"Looks like she rolled in a bed of cat fur," Ron muttered, causing Harry to fight to keep a smirk off of his face.
Umbridge's beady black eyes narrowed in on Harry, as if, like a dementor, she had felt some form of happiness and felt the need to quash it.
The emerald-eyed young man who'd long outgrown the scrawny visage imposed on his younger self schooled his expression carefully. No matter how much he wanted to narrow his eyes in response, he needed to be a perfect student.
If she was to lash out at him, it had to be persecution and not a response to his goading. Despite what the DA had said about tolerance and not tipping one's hand, Harry knew he'd be throwing around his political power within Hogwarts very soon with this woman running amok.
"Hem hem," she cleared her throat, demanding their attention with a girlish voice. "Good morning, class."
"Good morning," a couple returned.
"No, no, no," she simpered. "Loud and clear now, 'Good morning, Professor Umbridge.'"
Obligingly, the class echoed her. Even the Slytherins looked mildly disgusted by her patronizing tone.
"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts," she said, forced smile twisting her toady face into an unappealing visage.
Flicking her wand, the large chalkboard to the left of the desk flipped over and revealed the writing.
"Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. More commonly known as NEWT's."
With another flick of her wand, a four stacks of textbooks levitated up from her desk.
"The Ministry and the Minister himself," she paused, as if this should somehow have great importance to them. "Has thought long and hard about the failing standards here at Hogwarts. I have been sent here to educate and hone your young minds according to the pre-approved Ministry guidelines."
Dusty books began smacking down lightly in front of each student.
"Now, wands away," she said, spotting some Slytherins loosely fingering their wands. All of the Gryffindors in the room were DA and knew what to expect, somewhat, so their wands were still holstered. "There will be no foolish wand waving in this class."
"The Minister chose me to educate your young and ever rebellious minds," her lips spread across her teeth in a parody of a smile. "I will have structure and discipline in my classroom. You are to apply yourself to the coursework and you will prosper greatly in return."
It took every ounce of Harry and Hermione's control to stop from pulling faces. Ron had failed entirely but was trying to mask his look of disgust. What kind of bloody crap speech was this?
"Our goals for this year are to understand the theory presented in our text, Defensive Magical Theory: NEWT Edition by Wilbert Slinkhard, to understand the application of that theory, and to grasp the auxiliary uses of that theory in a non-classroom setting."
Millicent Bulstrode raised her hand. Umbridge turned a simpering smile on her and called on her.
"Yes Ms…?"
"Bulstrode," she answered gruffly. "You didn't mention practical learning."
"My dear girl, why would you need to be casting defensive spells in my classroom?"
"So we're to learn like muggles?" Millicent asked disdainfully. "Just theory and essays, no magic?"
The other Slytherin's began bristling that; none of them had thought about it like that! Would they really be learning like muggles? Umbridge looked taken aback by the grumbling (however slight) and outright disagreement from the Slytherin side of the room. She glared at Harry, as if it were somehow his fault, before opening her mouth.
"And what's more, they stopped using this book in the mid-80's," Millicent continued. "It's rubb-"
"Ms. Bulstrode," Umbridge interrupted loudly, expression growing angrier and angrier. For a moment, her sugary voice dropped. "You will cease this disobedience this instant. Det-"
Umbridge stopped just short of uttering the word detention. Millicent looked spitting mad and she put her hand flat on her desk. Harry's eye caught on her heir ring. Umbridge, a member of the Wizengamot, obviously understood what that meant. Harry knew that Millicent's father, Lord Bulstrode, had some affluence in the government. Clearly, his heiress had no issue wielding it against the lackey.
"Ten points from Slytherin," she said instead, face twisting ruefully before she turned a beady glare onto the Gryffindors. "Open your books! Begin reading, chapters one and two. Pip pip," she clapped.
Harry was more tempted to arch his brows sarcastically and give his eyes a roll but merely opened the book and grit his teeth.
His fingers twitched as she continued to simper some nonsense or another.
Umbridge really wasn't going to last long.
...