Purple Rain.

Chapter Sixty-Three.

"I know you are not bringing up blood status when you're related to a Squib!" (Y/n) exclaimed. "I mean, imagine preaching the blood status you don't have! Couldn't be me—"
There was the sound of whipping in the air. There were several gasps. It took a moment to process, but Harry was instantly filled with fury at the sight of a surprised (Y/n) with an open gash on her cheek. Umbridge, fuming, held her wand, having undoubtedly cast the spell that whipped (Y/n)'s cheek. Before anyone could fully react, Malfoy had returned and held the door for Snape.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" said Snape, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference.

"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"Certainly," said Snape, his lip curling. "It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

"A month?" squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. "A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

"Really?" said Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked around at Harry. "Well, that doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules." His cold, dark eyes were boring into Harry's, who met his gaze unflinchingly, concentrating hard on what he had seen in his dream, willing Snape to read it in his mind, to understand...

"I wish to interrogate him!" shouted Umbridge angrily, and Snape looked away from Harry, back into her furiously quivering face. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you," said Snape smoothly, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter— and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did— I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling..."

"You are on probation!" shrieked Professor Umbridge, and Snape looked at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"
Snape gave an ironic bow and turned to leave. Harry knew his last chance of letting the Order know what was going on was walking out of the door.

"He's got Padfoot!" Harry shouted. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!" Snape stopped with his hand on Umbridge's doorhandle.

"Padfoot?" cried Professor Umbridge, looking eagerly from Harry to Snape. "What is Padfoot? Where what if hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"
Snape looked around at Harry. His face was inscrutable. Harry could not tell whether he had understood or not, but he did not dare speak more plainly in front of Umbridge.

"I have no idea," said Snape coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me, I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if you ever apply for a job." He closed the door behind him with a snap, leaving Harry in a state of worse turmoil than before: Snape had been his very last hope. He looked at Umbridge, who seemed to be feeling the same way; her chest was heaving with rage and frustration.

"Very well," Umbridge said. "Very well... I am left with no alternative... This is more than a matter of school discipline... This is an issue of Ministry security... Yes... yes..." She seemed to be talking herself into something. She was shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot, staring at Harry, beating her wand against her empty palm and breathing heavily.
"You are forcing me, Potter... I don't want to," said Umbridge, still moving restlessly on the spot, "but sometimes circumstances justify the use... I am sure the Minister will understand that I have no choice... The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue."