CHAPTER 24: Umbridge
It was her first night back in Hogwarts, and she couldn't sleep.
She should've seen it coming, really. After all, a few months away doesn't exactly change the fact that the last time she'd been in Hogwarts grounds, Cedric had died. She shouldn't be surprised that every time she tried to sleep, her mind would bring back memories of that night.
And perhaps that's how she found herself in the Hogwarts kitchens once more, in dark grey joggers and Fred's jumper, huddled under the same window her and Cedric had shared the night before the final task. Back then, she hadn't known it would be the last time she'd get to spend time with her friend.
She stared out of the window with a hot mug of tea between her hands, staring at the darkness that shrouded the Hogwarts grounds. The House Elves had gone to sleep, leaving her alone in the dimly lit kitchens, only the sound of the wind keeping her company.
She still hadn't spoken to Fred; not yet. She wasn't exactly avoiding him, but she did rush out of the Great Hall the second the feast was over, dragging Daphne and Theo down to the dungeons so she could calm down and stop thinking about the damn Weasley.
It was fine. Everything was going to be fine once she got a chance to speak to him, but it didn't make things any less intimidating. Of course she was excited to see him, but she was also scared of what everything meant. Because what if his silence over the summer was because he realised he didn't want to date a Bisset?
She huffed, taking a long sip of her tea. She loved the power that came with a high-class powerful family; that was something that she could never deny, not really. Did it make her a bad person? Maybe. But it meant that she was in control, that she could make decisions no one would dare question. That Fred would never question, and that unsettled her a little.
She made a decision. Tomorrow, at breakfast, she'd march herself to the Gryffindor table, sit down next to her boyfriend, and talk to him. Daphne would be proud of her, she was sure, and Theo would probably be unfazed at her sudden burst of confidence.
"Madeline Bisset is not a coward," Madeline whispered to herself, rubbing the rim of the mug, "Because she can't be. I'm not allowed to be afraid. Never again."
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It was surprisingly easy to creep her way back to the Slytherin common room. No one wandered the halls at night, not on the first day and after a feast that big, but she still proceeded with caution, only removing her invisibility cloak outside the Slytherin entrance.
"Salamander," Madeline whispered, the door opening easily as she folded the robe between her hands.
She'd decided to try and get at least a couple of hours of sleep for her first day. Hell, she'll need them for when she faces Fred, and the series of classes she'll have to face after. Honestly, the idea of her comfy Slytherin bed was becoming more and more inviting-
"You're up late."
Madeline shrieked at the voice, jumping half a foot in the air as her hand flew to her chest. She looked at the blonde boy on the Slytherin sofa with wide eyes, glaring as she tried to catch her breath.
"What the hell?!" Madeline huffed, "Warn a girl next time you're going to lurk around in the dark, will you?"
Draco shrugged, closing the book in his lap. The fireplace was on, a low fire barely illuminating the small space of the sofas. Draco was still dressed in his Hogwarts uniform, but his robes had been discarded, leaving him in his white shirt and slacks, the Slytherin tie hanging loosely from his neck. His hair wasn't dishevelled, but it wasn't styled in his usual meticulous look. Madeline realised the boy hadn't even gone to bed.
"Out with your boyfriend?" Draco smirked as Madeline trudged her way over to the sofa, sitting on the opposite end to Draco.
Madeline rolled her eyes, "No. I couldn't sleep."
"Trouble in paradise already?" Draco teased, a bitter tone in his voice as he reopened the book in his lap.
"None of your business," Madeline snapped, leaning her head back on the sofa, "What are you doing anyway?"
"Reading."
"Because you can't do that in your own dorm?"
"Crabbe snores," Draco shrugged, as if it were the most obvious statement in the world.
Madeline frowned, but said nothing. Draco Malfoy was not her problem to deal with or to decipher. In fact, she should probably be getting back to bed by now.
But... The sofa was surprisingly comfortable. The leather was warm from the fire, and the plush green pillows were soft and inviting. Maybe she could just close her eyes for a moment, or a few minutes, and enjoy the comfort of the common room before bed.
Yeah, that sounded like a nice idea.
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Madeline awoke to the sound of the whistles and bells of distant alarms. She groggily pulled herself sitting, wiping at her eyes and looking around her room-
Oh. She wasn't in her room.
A couple of first years eyed her warily as they entered the common room, spotting her draped half-asleep over one of the sofas. A fluffy green blanket was draped over her, one she'd never seen before in the common room. The fire had long been put out, and a leather-bound book had been left in front of her on the coffee table.
Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, moving the blanket off herself. It was warm and fuzzy, a perfect match for Slytherin green. She saw her invisibility cloak folded at her feet. She scooped both up quickly, hiding the cloak in the blanket as she stood, looking at the clock.
She had a while before breakfast, thankfully. She didn't spare the book a second glance, making her way to her dormitory. She tiptoed up the wooden steps, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she pushed the heavy door open.
"Where were you?!"
Madeline groaned at Daphne's loud demand, moving to her bed and throwing herself into the pillows, "Fell asleep in the common room."
"That's a bit stupid."
"Shut up," Madeline grumbled into the pillows, ignoring the other girls giggling as she rolled herself onto her back.
"Hurry up, you need to look at least semi-presentable."
Madeline sighed, rubbing her eyes. Her elbow brushed against the fluffy blanket. She frowned. Thinking about it, she hadn't seen the blanket on the sofa last night, and she most definitely didn't tuck herself in. She thought back to the book left on the coffee table, and to the particular blonde she'd seen.
She scoffed, laughing to herself. No way would Draco Malfoy tuck her in.
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"That brush you gave me? A godsend," Madeline sighed as her, Daphne and Theo made their way out of the Slytherin dungeons. Madeline's hair had been brushed straight and sleek, a quick charm applying the lightest touches of makeup under her eyes to hide her slight dark circles.
Daphne flicked her hair over her shoulder proudly, "You'd be lost without me."
Madeline eyed her other housemates, who were walking a few paces in front of the trio. Pansy and Draco were both sporting shiny new Prefect badges on their robes, making no move to help the first years find their way to the Great Hall. In fact, it seemed that Evie Sterling was doing a much better job, chatting animatedly to a first year blonde girl.
"Blaise was talking about the Daily Prophet last night," Theo began quietly, "Said they're making Potter out to be a liar, and Dumbledore a fool."
Madeline scoffed, "Bloody hell, can Potter ever catch a break?"
"I don't know mind," Daphne admitted, "I spoke to Tracy; she seems to believe it."
"Most people don't want to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could be back because they don't want him to be back," Madeline pointed out, "I don't know if Potter is a liar or Dumbledore is a fool, but... Well, we saw what happened to... To Cedric. And I doubt it was either of them."
The Trio fell in a pensive silence, Theo seemingly nodding slightly to himself. Saying Cedric's name out loud, knowing he wasn't around anymore, still stung a bit. But it was getting better, she thought. Eventually, Daphne was the one to break her out of her musing.
"I mean, if he is coming back, I hope he does it during exam season," Daphne joked, "Because OWLS. aren't sounding like a barrel of laughs right now."
Theo raised his eyebrows, "You'd rather the Dark Lord returning than sitting your exams?"
"Exactly."
Theo sighed, rubbing his temples, "I didn't miss you."
"Oi!"
Madeline laughed at her two friends. She'd missed this; the easy laughter that came with being with her house. Sure, she didn't spend nearly as much time with the rest of her house as she did with Theo and Daphne, but there was still a quiet sense of belonging any time she walked with the green-and-silver students.
The hoard of Slytherins had reached the exit to the dungeons. They made their way through the Grand Staircases, the first years eyeing the moving structures warily as the walked underneath them. Pansy and Draco were, surprisingly, the ones to lead the small group down a set of marbled stairs, leading to the Entrance Hall.
Madeline could feel her mouth watering at the thought of breakfast. God, she needed coffee, and a lot of it. She'd barely taken another step towards the entrance of the Great Hall before a familiar voice caught her attention.
"Well, I think it's a pity we're not trying for a bit of inter-house unity."
Hermione Granger was striding past the Slytherin Trio with Harry and Ron at her tail, barely noticing Madeline. Students stopped to watch Harry pass, snickering and whispering between themselves. Clearly, everyone had been keeping up with the Daily Prophet, or had heard rumours about The Boy Who Lived going mad.
"Subtle," Theo commented as he watched a Ravenclaw boy yank his girlfriend out of Harry Potter's way, "Real subtle."
"Who cares," Daphne huffed, "Breakfast, please. Like, now."
Madeline laughed as Daphne stormed ahead, Theo following suit. She allowed a group of first years to squeeze past her, leaving her a few paces behind her friends. She was barely at the entrance of the Great Hall when a far too familiar voice stopped her.
"Maddie?"
Oh shit.
She waited too long to do this on her own terms, and now she was stuck. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before slowly turning around.
And, oh. Fred had a haircut.
And it looked good. Like, really good. Sure, the long hair had been alright and it was fun to mess up when Fred got grumpy, but the short hair looked fantastic. Brilliant, even. And he had a few shorter bits at the front, almost like bangs. God, they were adorable, and the cut really brought out his features. She didn't realise Fred had such good cheekbones-
"Mads?"
Oh right. Talking. She was meant to be talking.
"Hey," she greeted awkwardly, hands clasped together in front of her, "You look good- I mean, your haircut. You've had a haircut. It looks good! Not that you didn't before-"
She was bad at this.
"Thanks," Fred chuckled lightly, running his hand through the shorter cut. He felt just as awkward as she did as he rubbed his neck, "Look, can we talk?"
'He's going to break up with me,' Madeline thought, 'Right in front of the bloody Great Hall. I'm never going to be able to eat again without thinking of his stupid face.'
Madeline nodded calmly, "Yeah. Talking sounds good."
Fred gently put his hand to her elbow, leading her into a secluded alcove, away from prying eyes. Even the lightest touch from him brought shivers down her spine. Madeline spotted Draco and Pansy entering the Great Hall, his grey-blue eyes trailing on her for a moment before focusing back to Crabbe, who had been tattering on about whatever he'd spent his summer doing (not much).
"I need to apologise," Fred admitted once they were alone, "I kind of... Blew you off this summer?"
"I was wondering about that," Madeline replied coldly, something Daphne would be proud of.
"A lot of stuff happened with Harry, and," Fred paused, running his hand through his hair again, "And just some family stuff. I didn't really want to talk about it and I kind of just... Neglected you? It wasn't right, and I'm sorry."
Madeline had to take a few moments to process what he'd said, because she'd never seen Fred so... Serious? Usually he'd at least have a little grin or a small smirk on his face, but considering she thought he was going to break up with her...
"You're not breaking up with me?" Madeline asked slowly, just to be sure.
"Absolutely not," Fred shook his head, "I mean... As long as you don't want me to?"
Madeline shook her head, "I'll admit the summer was... Confusing, but I get it."
Fred's eyes widened, "Really?"
Madeline shrugged, "Hey, it's your family stuff. Personal stuff. I'm not about to demand you tell me every family secret in the book. But next time, promise me you'll at least tell me when you need space?"
Fred smiled, his hands finding Madeline's. Their fingers laced together, "I promise."
Madeline smiled, Fred ducking to her face as he planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. She whispered in his ear, "Now, can we please get some breakfast? If I don't have coffee in the next ten minutes, you're going to have to carry me to Potions."
Fred laughed, arm sliding over and around her shoulders, "Lead the way, m'lady."
"And you need to tell me about this jokes business you've got going on! Unless it makes me an accomplice in crime, or something."
"Be careful what you wish for."
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Madeline caught up on a good bit of her sleep in History Of Magic, seating herself in the far corner with Theo as he wrote notes for the both of them. Professor Binns hardly noticed her drooping head and closed eyes, busy arguing with Daphne about the origin of different famous bloodlines. The drizzle and rain meant that most of the students stayed indoors throughout of the day, corridors crowded as the Slytherin Trio made their way from class to class.
"Potions with Gryffindor," Daphne groaned as the trio made their way down to the dungeons, "Does Dumbledore hate us?"
"Yes, we determined that by the location of our common room," Madeline pointed out as she stepped through a rather sticky puddle of god-knows-what.
The Trio arrived just as the doors to Snape's classroom opened, the large group of fifth-years flooding in. No one dared take the front seats, even Theo and Daphne taking a table in the second row, but Madeline wanted to be a Potions Master. And if she wanted to take Potions for her N.E.W.T.S, she needed to get into Snape's good books.
She slid into a seat at the desk in front of Theo's and Daphne's, most people steering clear of the front. Hermione had taken a seat on her own at the desk next to hers, the girls acknowledging each other with a tight smile. Madeline had just finished unpacking her parchment and quills when a sneery, blonde-haired Slytherin slid into the seat besides her.
Madeline furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, "Wrong seat?"
"Wrong partner," Draco Malfoy retorted snidely, "Sure you'll be able to keep up this year?"
"I literally beat your grades in every assignment-"
"Settle down," Snape announced coldly as he shut the door behind him, the class falling into immediate silence. Madeline gave Draco one last glare before turning to the Professor.
"Before we begin today's lesson, I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions," Snape swept across the front of the room, eyeing each student, "Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your OWL, or suffer my... Displeasure."
"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."
Madeline noticed Draco straightening up from the corner of her eyes. Surely he wasn't thinking of taking Potions next year? Sure, he wasn't half bad, but nowhere near good enough to pursue a career in it. But then again, the Malfoy's were rich enough to never have to work a day in their lives. The Bisset's were the same, but Madeline despised being bored.
"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," Snape's voice cut in sharply, "So, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students."
This was going to be a long year.
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"Twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday," Daphne repeated to her friends that lunchtime, sat in their usual seats at the Slytherin table, "It's our first day."
"At least Madeline and Draco's answers got us house points," Theo pointed out.
And it was true. Surprisingly, the majority of questions were answered by Madeline and Draco, something the former found ridiculous. Sure, she was good, but Draco? Since when had he become such a suck-up for Potions?
"Speaking of Madeline," Daphne began, turning to her best friend, "Weasley. Spill."
Madeline shrugged, taking a bite out of her sandwich, "Same thing I told you at breakfast. He apologised, explained, and we're fine. Find someone else to explore your homicidal tendencies with."
Daphne nodded carefully, "So no hexing?"
"No."
"Gotcha," Daphne winked, sinking her fork into a cherry tomato and bringing it to her lips, "Let me know if that changes."
"You'll be the first to know."
Speculations had reached the fifth year Slytherins of their new D.A.D.A professor. They'd be the first year to have her, and quite frankly, Madeline was excited. Despite their teacher being a Death Eater in disguise, she'd really enjoyed the subject last year.
When they eventually entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan from the night before. Of course, the Gryffindors were also sharing this class with them.
The class went quiet as they entered the room. Without thinking, Madeline took a seat next to Neville, in their same spot as last year. Neville seemed surprised, but not nearly as much as he had been in her first year. The two shared a polite smile, almost like the one Madeline had shared with Hermione, before Professor Umbridge began speaking.
"Well, good afternoon!" she greeted almost-cheerily when finally the whole class had sat down.
A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply, Madeline choosing to stay silent. She was still rather drowsy from the late night.
"Tut, tut," Umbridge shook her head, "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge!' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
Madeline could feel the life drain out of her as the class chanted, "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge!"
"There, now," Professor Umbridge smiled sweetly, "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
Madeline sighed quietly. Of course, a theory lesson when she was half asleep with half a mind of having Theo write her notes again. Maybe Neville would do it if she promised to protect him from any big bad monsters they'd face in this years classes.
Professor Umbridge tapped her unusually short wand on the blackboard in front of the class as Madeline pulled out her quills. The words 'A Return To Basic Principals' appeared on the board.
"Your teaching in this subject has been rather... Disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" Umbridge stated more than asked, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her, "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year."
Madeline distinctly recalled her speech from the night before. A Ministry-appointed teacher did not sound like a barrel of laughs.
"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified," Umbridge continued to smile, "We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."
For a few minutes, the scratching of quills and quiet sighs of students were all that could be heard as Umbridge wrote on the blackboard. It seemed that every word or moment Umbridge spent with the class, the more life wanted to drain out of Madeline, and when she spotted Crabbe barely keeping his eyes open a few rows away from her, she knew she wasn't the only one.
Umbridge then sternly asked them all to turn to their copies of 'Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard', a book Madeline had probably read when she was ten.
"I should like you to turn to page five and read 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."
Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes.
Madeline had barely been in this lesson ten minutes and she could already hear the far cry of Professor Binns lessons, which were somehow less dull than re-reading how to properly hold a wand. The only exciting thing was that while everyone at least pretended to read their copies, Hermione had not even opened hers. Instead, she was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air.
Madeline had to rub her eyes in shock at the sight, because when did Hermione ever not do as she was told?
It was almost comical, how long Umbridge spent ignoring Hermione. To the point where Madeline had even nudged Neville under the desk to watch with her. Eventually, Umbridge relented, turning to Hermione.
"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked sweetly, as though she had only just noticed her.
"Not about the chapter, no."
"Well, we're reading just now," Umbridge explained with a sweet smile, "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."
"I've got a query about your course aims."
Madeline would've rolled her eyes if she didn't suspect she'd have to endure a lecture from their Professor in doing so.
"And your name is?"
"Hermione Granger."
"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," replied Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.
"Well, I don't," Hermione replied bluntly, "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."
Now that woke Madeline up a bit.
No defensive spells? That couldn't be right. She did not spend half her summer learning to conjure a Patronus for her not to be able to show that ability off.
"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh, "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
And of course, that set off the majority of the Gryffindors in the class to ask questions. Even Dean Thomas shot his hand up, arguing the point that of course they needed to learn defensive spells, Parvati making a pretty good point about the fact that OWL examinations contained a practical element to them, meaning they'd be performing spells for the first time in their exam. Honestly, Madeline would call the professor a clown if she thought it wouldn't get her expelled.
"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?"
All eyes turned to Harry, who hadn't bothered raising his hand.
"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.
"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?"
"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."
"Here we go," Madeline whispered quietly to Neville.
"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" enquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.
"Hmm, I don't know," Harry drawled out, "Maybe Lord Voldemort?"
Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Daphne gasped. Hermione even dropped her quill. Madeline could feel a phantom tingle from her necklace, hidden under her shirt, because hey, the boy wasn't tactful but he wasn't wrong either. Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."
The classroom fell into silence.
"Now, let me make a few things quite clear," Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned towards them, "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead-"
"He wasn't dead," Harry pointed out in frustration.
"Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," Professor Umbridge snapped in one breath without looking at him. She composed herself almost immediately, "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."
"It is NOT a lie! I saw him. I fought him!"
"Detention, Mr Potter!" Professor Umbridge announced almost triumphantly, "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office."
Harry stayed silent.
"I repeat, this is a lie," Umbridge continued, "The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading."
Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk. Harry, however, stood up. Everyone stared at him. Madeline had a sick feeling about what he was about to say.
"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?"
No one dared speak. There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night Cedric had died. A couple of eyes turned to Madeline, including Theo and Daphne, eyeing her warily as Madeline gripped the edges of her desk.
Everyone stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.
"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," she said coldly.
Alright, she'd done it now.
Madeline's hand shot into the air, and without waiting for Umbridge to see her, she interrupted, "I'll have you know, Professor, that it was a murder."
Now everyone was looking at Madeline with a shocked expression. No other Slytherin had dared defy Umbridge in the class, all the arguments coming from the Gryffindors, but she continued, "Dumbledore said it himself; lying about what happened that night would be an insult to his memory."
Professor Umbridge's face was quite blank, "And you are, Miss-"
"Madeline Bisset."
"It seems that these lies have poisoned you too," Umbridge nodded thoughtfully, "I think it's best for you to attend detention too, Miss Bisset, to qualm any of these worries. Tomorrow evening, seven o'clock in my office."
Madeline didn't speak. Her eyes met briefly with Harry's, a sort of understanding passing between them. She simply lowered her hand, mimicking Umbridge's sickly sweet smile, "I'd be delighted, Professor."