"Pardon me, professor, but what exactly are you insinuating?" Umbridge's extremely annoyed voice came from the main corridor. Everyone quickly moved from the Great Hall to watch the scene unfold.
"I am merely requesting that when it comes to my students, you conform to the prescribed disciplinary practices," Professor McGonagall replied sharply. Both woman were standing on the staircase, toe to toe.
"So silly of me, but it sounds as if you're questioning my authority in my own classroom. Minerva," Umbridge smiled, emphasizing McGonagall's name by stepping up a step higher.
"Not at all, Delores," McGonagall did the same thing. The crowd of students grew. "Merely your medieval methods."
"I... I am sorry dear," Umbridge scoffed. "But to question my practices is to question the Ministry, and, by extension, the Minister himself. I am a tolerant woman, but the one thing I will not stand for is disloyalty."
McGonagall took a step down and her face seemed to age a decade. "Disloyalty," she repeated sadly.
In contrast Umbridge stood taller, walking up until she was at the top stair. "Things at Hogwarts are far worse than I feared," she announced to the group of watching students at large. "Cornelius will want to take immediate action."
And with that she turned around, briskly walking away from us all, her tiny pink shoes clicking noisily on the tiled floor.
By the next morning, Flitch could be seen on a tall, rickety ladder, hammering a sign into the stone wall lining the doors to the Great Hall. When he was finished he cautiously made his way back down, nearly toppling over on himself halfway.
After the ladder was removed, a small wooden frame was visible. It read, "Proclamation Educational Decree No. 23: Delores Jane Umbridge has been appointed to the post of Hogwarts High Inquisitor," and was stamped with the Ministry's official seal.
In the days following, we quickly learned what the title "Hogwarts High Inquisitor" instated. It meant Umbridge was allowed to walk around the school like a headmistress, tightening boy's ties as they walked by and enforcing the rule "Boys and girls must be six feet apart at all times."
Hermione and I had been yelled at too many time to count in the corridors for being too close to Potter and Weasley. It was madness.
Being High Inquisitor of the school apparently also entailed going around from classroom to classroom and interrogating the professors. I assumed it was to see if they were good enough, in Umbridge's eyes, to stay at the school, which made absolutely no sense.
What would happen when she finally decided a teacher wasn't trained enough for their profession? It was all so preposterous.
The Prophet was having field day after field day, soaking up everything they could get on the going ons at Hogwarts. Headlines that read "EXCLUSIVE! Ministry Seeks Educational Reforms!" and "New Era Dawns at Hogwarts!" filled the pages, always followed by a smug picture of Umbridge or Fudge underneath.
But she always inquired Professor Trelawney the most, especially while she was in the middle of her very enthusiastic speeches. I almost felt bad for the woman.
One day during Divination Trelawney was interrupted for the sixth time and counting. "Just one question, dear," Umbridge began. "You've been in this post for how long, exactly?"
When Trelawney took too long to answer, Umbridge moved on. "Could you predict something for me?"
"I'm sorry?" Trelawney asked, sounding slightly offended.
"One teensy little prophecy?" Umbridge urged, her quill poised ready over her clipboard. "Pity," she frowned when Trelawney, once again, could not find the words to respond.
As she began to walk out of the classroom, Trelawney called out. "No, wait! I- I do see something. Yes, I do. Something dark! You... are in grave danger..." she trailed off nervously.
"Lovely," Umbridge replied silkily, marking down something that suspiciously looked like an "X" before leaving. Trelawney was left standing in the middle of the classroom, train of thought completely lost.
Only a day later we were in Snape's class when the High Inquisitor decided to barge in.
"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, is that correct?" She asked, walking around as if it was her class while Snape stood, unmoving, in front of her.
"Yes," he dragged out the word.
"But you were unsuccessful?" She continued, writing rapidly on her clipboard. I couldn't fathom how she turned his one, emotionless word into an entire paragraph.
"Obviously," Snape said, sounding wholly tired of the conversation. Across from me Weasley let out a snicker. When Umbridge left the room with a cold little smile on her face, Snape whacked Weasley on the back of the head with a Potions book.
I even heard that she measured Professor Flitwick's height while he was trying to teach a chorus class.
Every single week new Educational Decrees were hammered up on the wall, courtesy of Flitch. They went from simple things like "No Playing Music While Studying," to rules like "Weasley Products Will be Banned at All Times."
Eventually, there was an outcome to the High Inquisitor's inquisitions. I got to witness this outcome, along with the rest of the student body, when everyone gathered around the courtyard. Trelawney and Umbridge stood in the middle of the quiet area, the only sounds being hurried whispers and Trelawney's sniffles.
Flitch brought the last of Trelawney's luggage out, despite her feeble protests. She tripped over one of her trunks as she tried to reach the foul woman standing in front of her. I felt absolutely terrible.
"Six.. sixteen years I've lived and taught here," Trelawney's voice warbled. "Hogwarts is my home. Y- you can't do this."
Umbridge sighed and held up a folded piece of paper with, of course, the Ministry's official seal. "Oh, but I think I can."
Trelawney had began to sob quietly when McGonagall pushed through the crowds of students, coming to the Divination professor's rescue. "Oh, oh dear," she hushed quietly as she wrapped her arms around Trelawney.
"Something you'd like to say, dear?" Umbridge asked snappily.
"Oh, there are several things I would like to say," McGonagall replied, voice shaking with anger.
Just then the doors rattled and Dumbledore came from inside, cloak billowing out behind him. The students closest parted for him wordlessly, and he walked to the middle of the courtyard as well. Umbridge raised her eyebrows, daring him to defy her.
"Professor McGonagall, might I ask you to escort Sybil back inside?" He asked, voice booming over everyone's heads.
McGonagall led Trelawney forwards, back into the school, and she stumbled with relief. "Oh... thank you. Thank you for believing in me..." she cried as she passed.
"Dumbledore, may I remind you that under Educational Decree number twenty-three, as enacted by the Minister-" Umbridge started.
"You have the right to dismiss my teachers," Dumbledore cut her off. "You do not, however, have the authority to banish them from the grounds. That power remains with the headmaster."
Umbridge's toad face widened into what I assumed was the first genuine smile I had seen on her face all year. "For now," she giggled.
Dumbledore stopped, as if he might say something else, but decided against it and moved to depart. When the rest of the students followed his lead, Potter ran after him. "Professor," he shouted over everyone. "Professor!"
His calls were never answered.
"That foul, evil old gargoyle," Hermione was fuming, pacing back in forth in the quiet common room. "We're not learning to defend ourselves. We're not learning to pass our OWLs. She's taking over the entire school." A moment of silence followed her words until static came over the radio off to the side. Potter reached over and turned up the volume dial.
"...security has been and will remain the Ministry's top priority," Fudge's voice came. "Furthermore, we have convincing evidence that these disappearances are the work of notorious mass murderer, Sirius Black." I shook my head in disgust.
"Harry..." someone hissed. I thought I had imagined it at first. After all, I had just heard the Minister talking about Sirius. It couldn't actually be that he was-
"Sirius!" Potter jumped up from his chair and hurried over to the fireplace grate. Just like in fourth year, Sirius's face was flickering in the flames of the steadily burning fire. "What are you doing here?"
"Answering your letter," Sirius replied. "You said you were worried about Umbridge. What's she doing? Training you to kill half-breeds?"
"Sirius, she's not letting us use magic at all," Potter began.
"Well, I'm not surprised," the flames responded. "The latest intelligence is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."
"Combat?" I repeated. "What does he think, we're forming some sort of army?"
"Well, that's exactly what he thinks," Sirius nodded. "That Dumbledore is assembling his own forces to take on the Ministry. He's becoming more paranoid by the minute."
Then Sirius paused, as if he was choosing his next words very carefully. "The others wouldn't want me telling you this, Harry, but things aren't going at all well with the Order," he finally admitted. "Fudge is blocking the truth at every turn, and these disappearances are just how it started before." A brick settled in my stomach, part of me knowing that my father must be helping with all this.
"Voldemort is on the move," Sirius said, emphasizing every word.
"Well, what can we do?" Potter immediately asked. There was a distant clattering from Sirius's end of the fire.
"Someone's coming," he whispered. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help but, for now at least, it looks like you're on your own." The fire went out with a crackle, and his strained face vanished like it was never there.
Hermione turned and looked out the window just as a crack of lightning sliced through the sky. "He really is out there, isn't he?" She asked. It sounded like a question she didn't want answered.
"We've got to be able to defend ourselves," I announced. "And if Umbridge refuses to teach us how, we need someone who will." Hermione and I looked at each other, and then Potter. I had the feeling we were thinking exactly the same thing.
"This is mad," Potter protested as we walked through the snowy streets of Hogsmeade. "Who'd want to be taught by me? I'm a nutter, remember?"
"Look on the bright side, mate," Weasley said. "You can't be any worse than old toad face."
"Thanks, Ron," Potter sighed. "Who's supposed to be meeting us then?"
"Just a couple of people," I responded, opening the door to the Hog's Head. It was dark and grey inside, with a few dingy wooden tables. I could hear rats squeaking above our heads.
"Lovely spot," Weasley commented.
"We thought it would be safer somewhere off the beaten track," Hermione said in defense.
After about two minutes of sitting and waiting, the "couple of people" had gathered around the back of the pub. Really, it was an entire crowd, with kids from all houses besides Slytherin sitting around, some more suspicious than others. Gryffindors were the most populous. Hermione nudged me and I stood up, taking a deep breath.
"Um... hi," I began stupidly. "So... you all know why we're here. We need a teacher. A proper teacher. One who's had real experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts."
"Why?" A Hufflepuff boy asked harshly.
"Why?" Weasley repeated. "Because You-Know-Who's back, you tosspot."
"So he says," the boy nodded at Potter.
"So Dumbledore says," I corrected.
"So Dumbledore says because he says," the boy continued to argue. "Point is, where's the proof?"
"If Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed..." A boy, Ravenclaw this time, began hopefully.
Potter stood suddenly. "I'm not going to talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're here you might as well clear out now." No one left.
The same Hufflepuff boy raised his hand again mockingly. "What about the Malfoy?" He asked. The title was like a punch in the gut. "How do we know she's not working with her father?"
I narrowed my eyes at him dangerously. "My family isn't up for discussion either. I've proven where my loyalties lie. I am not the problem here," I said, never once raising my voice. I felt like Snape, barely speaking but holding an entire room silent.
No one dared to say anything for a moment until Luna said, "It is true you can produce a Patronus Charm, Harry?"
"Yes," I answered when he didn't. "I've seen it."
"Blimey, Harry, I didn't know you could do that," Thomas said, impressed.
"And he killed a Basilisk!" Longbottom spoke up. "With the sword in Dumbledore's office!"
"It's true," Ginny confirmed.
"And in third year he fought off about a hundred dementors at once," Weasley added proudly.
"And last year he really did fight You-Know-Who in the flesh," Hermione finished.
"Wait," Potter stopped us. "Look... it all sounds great when you say it like that, but the truth is most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time. I nearly always had help."
"He's just being modest," I assured.
"No, Alexandra, I'm not," he said firmly. I looked to Hermione helplessly. "Facing this stuff in real life is not like school," Potter started carefully. "In school, if you make a mistake you can just try again tomorrow. But out there, when you're a second away from being murdered, or watching a friend die right before you're eyes... you don't know what that's like."
A hush fell over the students as we all digested his words. Potter sat down again, and I followed. "You're right, Potter, we don't," I agreed. "That's why we need your help. Because if we're going to have any chance of beating..." I steeled myself. "...Voldemort." Potter looked at me in shock.
"Is he really back?" Colin Creevey asked quietly from the front. Potter teared his eyes away from me and nodded in a resigned way. It seemed to awaken the crowd.
After a flurry of murmurs of approval and heads nodding in agreement, we had an entire line of people waiting to sign their names on a piece of parchment, promising their membership in whatever we had just created. There was a swell of pride in my chest as I followed the lines of each new signature. We were doing all we could, one small step at a time.
On the way back to the castle we spoke over our new plans, the twins and Ginny walking with us. My mind, though, was distant. I was thinking about the way Chang had been looking at Potter the entire meeting. The way she batted her eyelashes when she got to the front of the line. And especially the way I couldn't tell if Potter liked it or not, because I could always tell with him.
It was his words that snapped me back. "Right, first we need to find a place to practice where Umbridge won't find out."
"The Shrieking Shack?" Ginny offered.
"Too small," Potter countered.
"The Forbidden Forest?" Hermione tried.
"Not bloody likely," Weasley chuckled.
"What happens if Umbridge does find out?" I asked, mostly for myself. I didn't want to think of the punishment I would receive if the Ministry notified father that I had been working against the Minister.
"Who cares?" Hermione replied. I looked at her incredulously. "I mean, it's sort of exciting, isn't it? Breaking the rules."
"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" Weasley asked, just as astounded as the rest of us.
"We've influenced her to a breaking point," I agreed solemnly.
She laughed and slapped me on the arm. I always thought Weasley was overreacting when she hit him. He was not.
"Over the next couple of days, we should each come up with a couple of possibilities of where we can practice," Potter announced as we walked through the courtyard and, finally, into the school. "We've got to make sure wherever it is, there's no chance she can find us."
I heard the unsaid words in the statement. None of us had any idea what she could do if she found out about this, even more so with the Ministry turning a blind eye on her purposefully. All I was aware of was that it could be nothing fun.