𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓟𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼: ǟ ʀɛǟʟɨȶʏ ֆɦɨʄȶɨռɢ ȶǟʟɛ ✤ ֆɛʋɛʀʊʂ ҳ օƈ

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 1𝔰𝔱

Reality rushed back to find Ron screwing his face. Luna had lowered the upside-down Quibbler, and exchanged looks with Felicity. Both began giggling to which the magazine slid onto the floor.

"That was funny!" Luna giggled.

"Better than the . . . the Petroleum Patronus!" Felicity managed. Perhaps she also ate too much chocolate.

Hermione squinted at Felicity uncomfortably. When her giggling fits kept going, Hermione made a face at Ron and Harry.

Neville watched her, and he looked pale, almost fearful. St. Mungo's loomed in his head, and within his beloved parents. These visions were ruining his classmate. He looked as if he prayed no professors went hard on her.

All Felicity knew, was the laughter was real. A calling from another place.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯○○◯○○⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A short, pink, toad-faced woman grinned passive-aggressively at the school. ". . . I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be . . . very . . . good . . . friends!"

Felicity narrowed her eyes on the woman, determined to confirm what she suspected.

Nothing.

The only knowledge that she knew was that Professor Umbridge was a Slytherin. Oh, and that her Patronus was a royal Persian cat.

Felicity gritted her teeth in concentration. Something about this insufferable woman, something about her really irked Felicity.

Didn't Luna's father mention something about energy levels? Vibrational wavelengths? Because this new professor emitted a reality Felicity feared would manifest. What this reality was, she did not know.

Something ministerial. Something to Voldemort's advantage.

"Hem hem," the squeaky girlish throat-clearing echoed louder than necessary.

No, definitely not a Death Eater. Too proper, too office-like for a sweet, little rule-following lady to toss dark mark clouds and cast killing curses.

But Felicity wouldn't put prejudice past this newcomer's head.

Snape's black eyes caught hers deep brown ones, and his brows furrowed in suspicion.

Warning, future regret and Merlin knows what loomed in the back of Felicity's mind. To hell with it.

She gripped her wand through her robe's sleeve angled at Umbridge, then whispered sharply.

She had to know. This was one witch her visions lacked in. So she mimicked the only way she imagined might work.

"Legilimens!"

A pink Ministry office replaced the Great Hall, and with it Umbridge scribbling a note. Felicity inched towards the back of Dolores Umbridge and peered over her shoulder.

𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝕽𝖎𝖙𝖆 𝕾𝖐𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖗,

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖞 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖆𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊. 𝕾𝖔 𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘, 𝖆𝖘 𝖜𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖓𝖔 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖏𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖟𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝖂𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝕻𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖆𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊, 𝖘𝖔 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐, 𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖊-𝖂𝖍𝖔-𝕸𝖚𝖘𝖙-𝕹𝖔𝖙-𝕭𝖊-𝕹𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖉! 𝕴𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊, 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖇𝖔𝖞! 𝕾𝖔 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝖜𝖊 𝖔𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖓 𝖊𝖝𝖙𝖗𝖆 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖓 𝕴𝖓𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝕵𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙. 𝕴𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖍𝖎𝖌𝖍-𝖕𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖕𝖕𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝕴, 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖗 𝕯𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖘 𝖀𝖒𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖌𝖊, 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝕳𝖔𝖌𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖙. 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖊𝖝𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖋𝖑𝖆𝖜𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖙𝖞 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖚𝖒, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖕𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖊𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖞 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘. 𝕻𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞.

𝕾𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖞,

𝕾𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖔𝖗 𝖀𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖞 𝕯𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖘 𝖀𝖒𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖌𝖊; 𝖔𝖓 𝖇𝖊𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖋 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝕸𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈

Umbridge hummed as she finished flaunting her signature's curls to the desk mirror, then folded the paper neatly. She slipped into an envelope, then summoned a white owl with a pink ribbon tied around its neck. The owl returned a squeaky hoot, then spread its wings and flapped out her partially-opened door where Felicity stood.

Little does Umbridge know that Hermione trapped that Skeeter beetle in a breathable jar!

Stiffening her neck, Umbridge turned a full 180 degrees. Looking straight through Felicity. The staff table returned, and with it the atrium. Umbridge stood still on Dumbledore's podium, still staring straight at Felicity. An evil smirk crept on her smug face.

"And, as I was emphasizing," Umbridge scanned the Great Hall and smiled sweetly, "pruning practices that ought to be---" she glanced briefly at the Ravenclaw table, "prohibited."

Luna glanced from Umbridge to Felicity. She trailed her gaze to Felicity's arm resting oddly on the table, then a wand's tip protruding from her sleeve. Luna's blue eyes bore new emotion in Felicity's. Disappointment.

Felicity still felt Umbridge's presence everywhere. Even though she resumed her speech.

Now you've done it.