A Trio of Serpents

41: The Lion, The Witch, The Audacity of This Bitch

Summary: Harry has second thoughts on the color pink

Pink wasn't Harry's favorite color by any means, but it was definitely high on his list. The soft glow in the morning sky, the carnations and roses that sat in pots outside the flower shop, the vivid feathers on the flamingos at the zoo, and even the artificial cotton candy pink was soft on the eyes.

But when Harry looked up at the High Table and saw the woman sitting next to the headmaster, clad in a fluffy pink cardigan, all previous thoughts were thrown out the window. "Dolores Umbridge," he muttered. "She works for the Ministry."

"Which means she's here for Fudge, then," said Hermione, frowning. "That can't be good."

And she could take a public speech class, Harry thought as they were heading to the dungeons. He had tried to pay attention — know your enemy and all that — but his mind wandered anyway. The only thing he gathered was what he had suspected the moment he saw Umbridge: The Ministry was interfering because of him.

He and Ron headed to their dorm. Jayson and Blaise were already there, and Sid joined them seconds later.

Harry opened his mouth to greet them, but Jayson didn't even look at him as he practically yanked open his trunk. "You okay?"

"No, I'm not," said Jayson, pulling out his pajamas.

Remembering what Sid had said, Harry said, "Does it have to do with Logan?"

Jayson frowned and glanced at Sid, whose back was turned as he bent over his own trunk. "Yeah. They found out I've been writing to Logan all summer. Had a huge fit about it."

"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"Also, to top it off, they think you're some kind of crackpot," Jayson added.

Harry shrugged, more concerned about Jayson's first piece of news than the latter. "And you?"

"Well, you can be a crackpot, but not about You-Know-Who." Jayson sat back on his heels and looked up at Harry, frustration and weariness in his dark eyes. "Apparently, the only reason I defend you is because I'm into you."

Harry wrinkled his nose.

"I know. I wasn't exactly thrilled with the assumption, either." Jayson's trunk closed with a snap.

"My mum believes you," Sid said, turning back around. "My dad doesn't give a damn, though. He's a Muggle, he thinks he's untouchable or something."

"But Volde —" Sid stiffened "— sorry, You-Know-Who goes after —"

"Try telling my dad that. All he cares about is tv."

Harry had a fleeting image of a grown-up Dudley sitting in front of the television and stuffing his face.

Jayson got into bed and rolled over facing away from them. After casting a worry glance at him, Sid climbed into his own bed.

Harry's head hit the pillow, a small sigh leaving his lips. He was grateful for his friends' support, but the lack of concern on their parents' parts made him feel uneasy. How many of the students had the same mindset?

You'd think that listening to Umbridge or being in Professor Binns' class would have prepared you for Umbridge's class, but Harry, staring at page five of Defensive Magical Theory, could safely say he was not.

He looked around. Ron had not moved his gaze from the same page, Tracey was flipping through slowly but clearly not taking in a word, and Jayson, still irritable by his summer Harry guessed, was glowering. Even Malfoy, Harry noticed, didn't look all that enthusiastic about reading. Apparently, even having a father high in the Ministry didn't exempt you from tiresome lectures.