There was a lot of commotion in the house the next day. From what Rigel heard as he dressed at top speed, he gathered that Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs into the hall and Mrs. Weasley was screaming at the top of their voices.
" - COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS – "
"See you at Christmas" Rigel hugged Remus.
"Have fun at school, and please try not to find any philosopher stones, kill Basilisks, go after dark wizards, or get chosen in life-threatening tournaments. I mean that for all of you" Remus told Harry, Ron, Eliza, Hermione, and Rigel.
"Can't promise you anything" Harry smirked. He rolled his eyes.
"By the way, Sirius wanted to meet you three. Go to his room." Remus said.
"Your father wants to see you and Harry on the study" he went on.
"Dad?" Rigel asked as they entered the room.
"Come in here," he said. They got closer and he handed them some pictures. He gave Harry a photo of the first Order of Phoenix, Eliza, a picture of Lily Evans and her friends and he gave Rigel a photo of a beautiful blonde woman.
"This is your mother, Kiara Dorothy Sayre." he smiles. "Your personality is the same as hers, but unfortunately you inherited my ability to get into trouble. I want you to have the picture."
"Thanks" Rigel smiled putting the photo into his pocket.
"Thanks, Sirius," Eliza said.
"There is one more thing I would like to give you Rigel" he reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out a silver ring. "It's the Black family heir ring and usually I was supposed to give you when you're seventeen but I wanted to give this to you now."
"I can't take it" Rigel complained
"You can and you will" he pulls Rigel's hand and puts the ring in it, closing it into a fist. "Take care of it, it means a lot"
"I. Fine." Rigel eventually said. He gave his father a hug and boarded the Hogwarts express. Rigel examined the ring, it was a thin platinum band with the family crest on it. It was slightly large but when RIgel placed it on his index finger, it magically resized and fit him perfectly.
The walk to King's Cross took about twenty minutes and was, as Rigel expected, completely and utterly uneventful. Following closely behind Tonks, who was currently looking like an old woman, avoiding Harry and Eliza like a plague. He took refuge next to Sirius who was thankfully talking about Quidditch.
Arriving at the bustling station, the group made their way to the barrier and casually slipped in one at a time under the oblivious gazes of the nearby Muggles. The Hogwarts Express stood there in all its glory like it did every year.
"Well," said Fred, clapping his hands together, "can't stand around chatting all day, we've got business to discuss with Lee. See you later," and he and George disappeared down the corridor to the right.
The train was gathering still more speed so that the houses outside the window flashed past, and they swayed where they stood.
"Shall we go and find a compartment, then?" Harry asked.
Hermione and Rigel exchanged looks.
"We're - well - Rigel and I are supposed to go into the prefect carnage," Hermione said awkwardly.
"Oh," said Harry. "Right. Fine."
"I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey," said Hermione quickly. "Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time."
"Fine," said Harry again. "Well, we - we might see you later, then."
He, Eliza, and Ron took off and Hermione and Rigel headed to the Prefects compartment.
The prefects all made a large circle. Rigel saw a number of students who he knew by face but not by name. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to remember too many new names.
With a lurch, the train started moving. He looked out the window as the train pulled out of the magically concealed station. More people trickled into the room, including one Alicia Spinnet. Rigel blinked at him in surprise as she gave him a smile. Smiling back, he whispered to Hermione, "How long has Alicia been a prefect?"
"Since her fifth year... wait, you seriously didn't know?" Hermione just regarded him with something akin to wonder. "Jeez, Rigel, I used to think that kind of lack of awareness could only be reached by Harry and Ron."
"I never paid attention to prefects before, and she never wore the thing during practice," he defended himself. "Ever."
The last prefects had just entered the room were the Slytherins fifth years and much to Rigel's surprise, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. They gave Rigel and Hermione a look of pure loathing to which they returned it.
"A bet you five galleons Snape appointed Draco to piss us off," Rigel whispered to Hermione.
"All right, I think that's everyone," said a voice from the other side of the room. The circle parted slightly, and two more students joined the ring, a boy and a girl. Rigel recognized the boy instantly as Roger Davies while the girl was just vaguely familiar. "Welcome back for another year of perfect duties to the sixth- and seventh years, and welcome new prefects to the fifth years. Congratulations on earning your position."
There was light applause for the fifth-years. Rigel had to suppress a groan. He was being reminded of Percy Weasley more and more.
"Now, to get things started as you probably all know, I'm Roger Davies of Ravenclaw, and I have been appointed Head Boy. And this is Patricia Stimpson of-"
"Gryffindor," said Patricia beside him. She had a round face framed by curly black hair and brown eyes. "And I've been appointed to Head Girl."
"Now, to introduce the new prefects to the rest of you," said Roger, pulling out a roll of parchment. "From Gryffindor, Rigel Black and Hermione Granger. From Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan, and Hannah Abbot. From Ravenclaw, Anthony Goldstein, and Padma Patil. And finally from Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, and Pansy Parkinson. Again, welcome." Roger spoke with a smile on his face.
"New or not, I'll explain your duties and your powers as prefects," said Patricia. "First of all, prefects are meant to be role models and general enforcers of the school rules within the houses and castle. If you mistreat your authority then the position can be taken away from you. Your heads of the house all retain the power to demote you at any time, so do your best not to break any rules. Also, Roger and I can report prefects who are not doing their duties properly. If this happens too many times, you will be demoted." She softened a bit, the edge coming out of her voice. "Really, it's not a hard job, and many of the students look up to you not only for guidance and advice but sometimes for security and comfort. Anyone abusing that relationship will not last here."
She spoke those last four words very slowly. Rigel blinked, somewhat taken aback by the steel in her voice. He glanced at Hermione who looked at Patricia approvedly. Rigel just looked back at the Head Girl, smiling slightly.
"Anyway, here are the basic things you new prefects need to know before you go and do something stupid," she continued, now in a conversational tone. "Prefects are allowed to dock a minimum of five points from any house, but you are not allowed to take points from fellow prefects or the headboy and girl. however, you can assign single-day detentions with Filch from any house. If you abuse your power we will know, and you will be dealt with. Fifth-year prefects are also required, as you know, to guide your new house's first-years to your house common room. Be sure to be very clear when telling them about parts of the castle so they don't get as lost as they might without your help on the first day. They will get it eventually, just try not to confuse them. Okay, Roger, tell them about patrols."
"Right, I'll keep this brief. Prefects patrol the corridors at night after curfew to keep students from getting into mischief, as we all know that a good number of them like nighttime strolls. You will be doing them in pairs. Also, every night of the week one or two of the professors will be patrolling as well. Cooperate with them and don't cause trouble yourself.
"Now, last but not least, the Hogwarts Express has six carriages not including this one, and there are twenty-four of you. The trip to Hogwarts is about eight and a half hours. Do a little math, add about a half-hour we take here, and that means one of you patrols a single carriage for two hours apiece. Keep the peace, and help anyone who's having a problem. If something really bad happens come to report to us here. The train patrol schedule is behind me on the wall, so check it out before you leave." He paused and looked around. "That's it, if any of you have questions for me or Patricia just talk to us whenever."
The patrols weren't that boring. Not five minutes after leaving the Prefects' carriage and Hermione had already begun scolding a sixth year for swearing. It didn't look like she'd be done any time soon, so he kept going until he reached the carriage that he was supposed to be keeping an eye on for the next two hours. Brilliant, he'd only been on the job for seven seconds and it was everything he'd ever dreamed.
Damn boring. Honestly, what was McGonagall thinking?
An hour past and Rigel officially hated prefect duties. Damn, how did Remus Lupin do this with two prankster friends? By the time he covered his shift, he was going back to the compartment where his friends were going that Eliza saved him was pumpkin pasties.
As they moved into the next carriage Rigel suppressed a groan at a sight in the middle of the corridor by an open compartment.
Draco Malfoy was stood with Crabbe and Goyle by his side as he was speaking to the occupants of the compartment.
"You are supposed to be patrolling the corridors Malfoy... not standing here chatting with other students" Hermione said in a flat voice.
The three boys sharply turned to face Rigel and Hermione.
"Get lost Black" snarled Draco.
Rigel sighed.
"Get back to patrolling the corridors Malfoy or else I'll report to Davies," Rigel said sternly.
Draco spat at his feet. Rigel looked unimpressed.
"Stay out of it Black, it doesn't involve you."
"Hmm, well you see, you're annoying my friends and me, so now it does involve me," Rigel drawled threateningly. "Or at least," he said, lowering his voice to a dangerous tone. "It will involve me if you don't leave my friends alone, or else I'll pull a page out of Crouch Jr."
Draco gulped slightly. It seems he still hasn't forgotten the ferret incident.
"My Father will hear about this" Draco sneered threateningly.
"I'm sure he will, given that you can't fight your own battles... now get lost," Rigel said jerking his head to his side.
Draco scowled and turned to Crabbe and Goyle before nodding.
"Come on" Draco muttered.
He pushed his way past Rigel and Hermione walking down the corridor.
Rigel kept an eye on the three boys as they walked down the corridor for a few moments before turning to face the compartment.
"Idiot." Rigel shook his head.
"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron said enthusiastically once they left.
Rigel shrugged. "Hey Harry, pass me a chocolate frog will ya?"
"Who's the prefects?" Eliza asked munching onto a pumpkin pasty.
"Well, you met the Slytherin prefect." Rigel scowled. "he and Pansy Parkinson. For Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan Hannah Abbott."
"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," said Hermione
"You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil," said a vague voice.
Everyone turned to look at Luna Lovegood, who was gazing unblinkingly at Ron over the top of The Quibbler. He swallowed his mouthful of Frog.
"Yeah, I know I did," he said, looking mildly surprised.
"She didn't enjoy it very much," Luna informed him. "She doesn't think you treated her very well because you wouldn't dance with her. I don't think I'd have minded," she added thoughtfully, "I don't like dancing very much."
She retreated behind The Quibbler again. Ron stared at the cover with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds, then looked around at Ginny for some kind of explanation,
"Well." Rigel eventually said. "She's not wrong."
The weather remained undecided as they traveled farther and farther north. Rain spattered the windows in a halfhearted way, then the sun put in a feeble appearance before clouds drifted over it once more. When darkness fell and lamps came on inside the carriages, Luna rolled up The Quibbler, put it carefully away in her bag, and took to staring at everyone in the compartment instead.
"We'd better change," said Hermione at last. She and Rigel pinned their prefect badges carefully to their chests.
At last, the train began to slow down and they heard the usual racket up and down it as everybody scrambled to get their luggage and pets assembled, ready for departure. Hermione and Rigel had to stay back to supervise all this. He had caught Goyle trying to bully a second-year Slytherin to carry his luggage and that earned him five points and detention for attacking him.
When he got out of the train Rigel noticed a few key things. First, Hagrid wasn't there, but Professor Grubbly Plank was. Although he liked Hagrid as a person, Rigel truthfully thought that Dumbledore could've hired a better teacher and he was selfishly relieved to have a good professor for one of his favorite classes.
Rigel also noticed that a lot of students were staring at Eliza and Harry as they passed. He assumed they were receiving attention for being slandered in the Daily Prophet as well as their involvement with Cedric's death and his trial.
"There you are! I thought you'd been run over or something," Rigel said behind Eliza. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"When did these reptile-dragon-horses get here?" Eliza asked,
Rigel gave her a sad smile. "They're called thestrals," he said softly. "They can only be seen by those who have witnessed death."
Eliza's hands reached her mouth. "Who-"
"My mother," Rigel said as he climbed into the carriage. "She was killed by a werewolf."
The entrance hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right, leading to the Great Hall and the start-of-term feast.
The four long House tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair all along with the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly to one another, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other Houses, eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes. AgainHarry noticed people putting their heads together to whisper as he passed; he gritted his teeth and tried to act as though he neither noticed nor cared.
Luna drifted away from them at the Ravenclaw table. The moment they reached Gryffindor's, Ginny was hailed by some fellow fourth years and left to sit with them; Harry, Eliza, Rigel, Ron, Hermione, and Neville found seats together about halfway down the table between NearlyHeadless Nick, the Gryffindor House ghost, and Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, the last two of whom gave Harry airy, overly friendly greetings that made him quite sure they had stopped talking about him a split second before. He had more important things to worry about, however: He was looking over the students' heads to the staff table that ran along the top wall of the Hall.
"Where is Hagrid?" Harry asked.
"I don't know but who's that toad in pink?" Ron said. Rigel looked down at the table and felt sick.
"Oh fuck it's Dolores Umbridge" Rigel grimaced. "She's the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. What is she doing here?"
"The Ministry has a representative here? What are they planning?" Eliza asked, sitting forward in her seat.
Before anyone in the group could answer, the door from the entrance hall opened, and a long line of scared first years entered behind Professor McGonagall. Discussion around the hall came to a halt, and McGonagall placed down the stool and the Sorting Hat. The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song as it did every year.
This year's song was like none other. Sure, they changed every year, but they still followed the same subject; the qualities in each of the houses, and its roles in sorting them. This year its song felt more like a warning. When applause broke out, there was muttering and whispering occurring in the punctured atmosphere.
"For our Hogwarts is in danger, from external, deadly foes.
And we must unite inside her Or we'll crumble from within.
I have told you, I have warned you," the Sorting Hat had bellowed.
"Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?" said Ron, his eyebrows raised.
"Too right it has," said Harry.
"I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?" said Hermione, sounding slightly anxious.
"Yes, indeed," said Nearly Headless Nick knowledgeably, leaning across Neville towards her (Neville winced; it was very uncomfortable to have a ghost lean through you). "The Hat feels itself honor-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels – "
But Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first-years' names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches. Nearly Headless Nick placed a see-through finger to his lips and sat primly upright again as the muttering came to an abrupt end.
Slowly, the long line of first-years thinned. In the pauses between the names and the Sorting Hat's decisions, I could feel my stomach rumbling loudly. Finally, 'Zeller, Rose' was sorted into Hufflepuff, and Professor McGonagall picked up the Hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.
"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"
There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate - for food had appeared out of nowhere so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces, and flagons of pumpkin juice.
"Food!" Eliza exclaimed happily, beginning to pile mashed potatoes on her plate.
"What were you saying before the Sorting?" Hermione asked the ghost. "About the hat giving warnings?"
"Oh yes," said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with too much enthusiasm. "Yes, I have heard the hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school.And always, of course, its advice is the same: Stand together, be strong from within."
"Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?" said Ron.
His mouth was so full Rigel thought it was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all.
"I beg your pardon?" said Nearly Headless Nick politely, while Hermione looked revolted
"What Ron meant Nick is that How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a hat?"
"I have no idea," said Nearly Headless Nick. "Of course, it lives inDumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there."
"And it wants all the Houses to be friends?" said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was holding court."Fat chance."
"Yeah, I don't fancy becoming Pansy Parkinson's new best friend," Eliza said. "I don't think she's too thrilled about me either."
"Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude," said Nick reprovingly."Peaceful cooperation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate Houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron."
"Only because you're terrified of him," said Ron.
Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted.
"Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins —"
"What blood?" asked Ron. "Surely you haven't still got — ?"
"It's a figure of speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck. "I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!"
"Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!" said Hermione, throwing a furious look at Ron.
Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was packed to exploding point againand all he could manage was "node iddum eentup sechew," which Nick did not seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into the air, he straightened his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis.
"Well done, Ron," snapped Hermione.
"What?" said Ron indignantly, having managed, finally, to swallow his food. "I'm not allowed to ask a simple question?"
"Oh forget it," said Hermione irritably, and the pair of them spent the rest of the meal in huffy silence
After everyone finished dessert, Dumbledore stood up once again.
"First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too." (Harry, Ron, Hermione, Eliza, and Rigel exchanged smirks.)
"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door. We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher"
There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause. Ugly name for an ugly woman.
"Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the –" He broke off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge. Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, 'Hem, hem,' and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."
Her voice was high-pitched, breathy, and little-girlish and, again, I felt a powerful rush of dislike that I could not explain to myself; all I knew was that I loathed everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. She gave another little throat-clearing cough ('hem, hem') and continued.
"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me! I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"
"Unlikely" the Weasley twins muttered.
I looked around everyone had the same 'what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-this-woman' look on their faces. She continued to talk about something of the Ministry and I used that time to doze off until I heard something that caught my attention and concerned me.
". . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."
Or in simpler words, the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts Rigel thought grimly.
There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Hermione jumped up, looking flustered.
"Rigel, we're supposed to show the first-years where to go!"
"Really? Oh well," Rigel blinked. "Hey – hey, you lot! Midgets!"
"Rigel!"
"What?" he asked. "Well, they are, they're tiny. . ."
"I know, but you can't call them midgets! – First-years!" Hermione called commandingly along with the table. "This way, please!"
They managed to put them into a group and led them through the stairs. Hermione explained to them mostly everything, where they should step were to be careful and things like that. Rigel stayed in the back, making sure no one stayed stuck while also whispering a few secret passageways. Though he stopped abruptly when he realized that they were already at the portrait hole. He joined Hermione who gave him a little nudge in the ribs and pointed to the kids with her eyes.
"Sup you lot. Name's Rigel Black." he winked at them. A few girls already blushing. "This is the entrance of the Gryffindor tower and this is the fat lady. Don't worry she doesn't mind being called fat." Rigel added. "She's the guardian of our tower, and you won't be let in unless you say the password, so mind that you remember it."
Fat Lady was beaming widely at the new students.
"Mimbulus mimbletonia," Rigel said to the Fat Lady swiftly but clearly so the students could remember and pronounce it correctly.
They stepped through the portrait and let them see the room. The Gryffindor common room looked as welcoming as ever, a cozy circular tower room full of dilapidated squashy armchairs and rickety old tables. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate and a few people were warming their hands by it before going up to their dormitories.
"Welcome to the common room," Hermione said pleasantly. "Now, before we take you to your dormitories, do you have any questions?"
They all shook their heads.
"Girls, if you would follow me, please, I'll show you your dormitory," said Hermione.
"Rest of you lot, follow me," Rigel spoke up, and RIgel kind of enjoyed it when the boys instantly obeyed.
"Up the stairs," he told them as we climbed the stairs, "First door to your right at the top of the stairs."
"Here we are," Rigel led the boys into their new room which had first years, and they scrambled to their new beds. "Classes start tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp, so I expect you all to get a good night's sleep. If you need anything, just come get me. I'm in the fifth-year dormitory at the very top, and my name's Rigel, ok?" Rigel smiled at them and briskly walked out.
"What the fuck's going on!?"
Rigel's eyes traveled from Harry, who was kneeling on his bed with his wand pointing at Seamus, to Seamus, who was standing there with his fists raised. Neville and Ron were on a corner looking rather uncomfortable.
"He's having a go at my mother!" Seamus yelled.
"What?" Rigel blinked. "Harry wouldn't do that. Nice woman, she was"
"That's before she started believing every word the stinking Daily Prophet writes about me!" said Harry at the top of his voice. Oh, now everything makes sense.
"You know what?" said Seamus heatedly, casting Harry a venomous look. "You're right, I don't want to share a dormitory with you anymore, you're mad."
"That's out of order, Seamus," Rigel said firmly.
"Out of order, am I?" shouted Seamus. "You believe all the rubbish he's come out with about You-Know-Who, do you, you reckon he and Eliza are telling the truth?" he asked Ron and me.
"Yeah, we do!" said Ron angrily.
"Then you're mad, too," said Seamus in disgust.
"Call me mad again and I'll show you how crazy the Black family is." Rigel threatened.
Seamus looked for a few seconds as though a brawl would be a reasonable price to pay to say what was going through his mind; but with a noise of contempt, he turned on his heel, vaulted into bed, and pulled the hangings shut with such violence that they were ripped from the bed and fell in a dusty pile to the floor.
"Anyone else's parents got a problem with Harry or Eliza?" Rigel said aggressively.
"My gran supports Harry," piped up Neville. "She says it's the Daily Prophet that's going downhill, not him or Dumbledore. She's canceled our subscription. We believe Harry," said Neville simply. He climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, looking owlishly over them at Seamus. "My grans always said You-Know-Who would come back one day. She says if Dumbledore says he's back, he's back."
"I think I don't need to answer that" Ron spoke.
Nobody else said anything. Seamus got out his wand, repaired the bed hangings, and vanished behind them. Neville, who appeared to have nothing more to say either, was gazing fondly at his moonlit cactus. Ron got into bed, rolled over, and fell silent. Harry lay in his pillows and Rigel climbed into his bed and fell asleep.
It was an awkward start to the day and by the time the boys reached the breakfast table, Rigel could see that Lavendar and Parvati sat further from Eliza and Hermione.
"What's the matter?" Asked Hermione as she sat down next to Harry whose face resembled a wet weekend.
"Seamus reckons Harry's lying about You-Know-Who," Rigel said when Harry didn't respond.
"Yes, Lavender thinks so too," said Hermione glancing down the table to where Lavender and Parvati appeared to be arguing.
"Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I'm a lying attention-seeking prat, have you?" Spat Harry viciously, Eliza swung a kick at his shin but Hermione adopted a more controlled approach.
"No, I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about you, actually. And it would be nice if you stopped jumping down our throats, Harry, because in case you haven't noticed, Ron, Rigel, and I are on your side. We believe you and we believe Eliza." Harry had the good sense to look ashamed but he was saved the embarrassment of an apology by Fred and George sitting down at the table.
"We believe you too." Said George simply, "anyway on to more important things, Hermione did you take down our..."
"Timetables; Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, Potter, Potter, and Granger... Mr. Black, you will be missing History of Magic this year in order to attend NEWT Transfiguration so we need to arrange your tutoring." Professor McGonagall nodded at Rigel and then made her way further up the table to continue with her timetable duties.
"You're missing History of Magic. So lucky!" Eliza groaned.
"Hagrid's still not here, where can he be?" Harry said, looking up at the staff table.
"Well, if Grubbly-Plank's here then Dumbledore can't be expecting him back soon," Ron replied, dropping his timetable into his fried egg, Hermione pulled it out and cleaned it, then tapped it with her wand to color-code and laminate it, and then passed it back to Ron.
"Umm...thanks, Hermione," Ron said, putting it in his bag with great care.
The rest of the breakfast passed quickly and when it had finished Harry, Ron and Hermione said goodbye to Eliza and Rigel before making their way to their classes.
Rigel tried to listen to McGonagall but he was too engrossed in doodling that he droned out of half of McGonagall's lecture.
"...try to perform the spell now on the wood provided on your desks, you have thirty minutes!" The increase of noise in the classroom brought Rigel's attention back into the room; he took his wand out and looked blankly at his toad.
Rigel lifted his wand and prepared to perform the charm, he paused for a moment before realizing he had no idea what the incantation was, or what the intended result was.
"Miss Johnson, let's see how you do," said Professor McGonagall as she reached their table.
"Oh, ok...bufonem emittunt!" Angelina's wand shot a pale blue light at the toad and it immediately turned into a red toadstool.
"Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Johnson. I suggest next time you do the spell non verbally. Mr. Black?"
Rigel nodded and made the same complicated wand movement but this time tried to say it now verbally thinking of his intended result. Much to his relief, it turned to a mushroom though sizeable much smaller than Angelina's.
"Not bad on your first attempt Mr. Black." McGongall nodded
After their respective classes, the five sat underneath a dripping balcony, where Hermione told them she wasn't going to let Harry, Ron, Eliza borrow her History of Magic notes anymore. Rigel couldn't help but feel slightly jealous as McGongall would take his history of magic lessons and him getting a nape meant Dumbledore and Eliza had a secret relationship.
Then, there was the tragedy of an awkward interaction between Harry and Cho, where Harry acted awkwardly around her and Ron accused the Ravenclaw of being a fake Tornados fan.
"At least she made an effort," Rigel said ignoring Ron and Hermione's bickering.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Harry said, smiling a bit.
"I can set you two up." Eliza shrugged.
"Fuck no," Harry said sharply.
"Alright big brother." Eliza giggled. "Calm down."
"Eliza I'm serious."
"No, you're Harry." Rigel grinned.
Harry groaned while Rigel and Eliza high five each other.
Professor Snape gave them a lovely speech about how he only accepts the best in his N.E.W.T class for potions in the sixth and seventh year and how many he expects would give up. Charming.
Then he told them that they had an hour and a half to prepare the Draught of Peace and where to find all the things we needed. The potion was like a joke to Rigel having brewed it several times for Eliza. Snape hated that he got good marks in his exams. But he loved that Harry didn't.
At the ten-minute mark, Snape said a light silver vapor should be rising from our cauldrons. Rigel had finished and sure enough, a solver mist was rising from it. Harry, however, didn't and Snape made sure to give him a hard time because of it. They left the class quietly, Harry fuming with anger. He and Eliza went to arithmancy.
"Damn, Harry'd pretty pissed off at us," Rigel commented at Harry's outburst.
"He doesn't mean it, he's just angry at the world and you are one of the closest people to him," Eliza said
"Yeah, it's not your fault, but you two could be a little more mindful of what he's going through before you march in here and start bickering," Rigel said, soft yet firm.
Defense Against the Dark Arts easily topped Potions as the worst class. Rigel had developed a healthy suspicion of Umbridge ever since her ominous speech on the first night. But when she wrote "a return to basic principles" on the chalkboard with a flick of her wand, he knew they were in for it. Immediately after the words appeared, he exchanged an exasperated look with Eliza. Ron and Harry—and the rest of the class—didn't seem to realize what was happening.
Rigel had only just finished reading the first-course aim when Hermione raised her hand. Percy turned at the movement and saw that the witch had not even opened her book. He watched Hermione for a few minutes, trying to catch her eye and ask her what the problem was, but she was focused on Umbridge. Finally, the professor noticed Hermione and called on her. The whole class was watching in anticipation at that point.
"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.
"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.
"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small, pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."
"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows."And your name is — ?"
"Hermione Granger," said Hermione.
"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear ifyou read them through carefully," said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.
"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."
There was a short silence. Rigel stiffened and turned towards the course aims.
"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?"
"Isn't the point for us to be prepared if we're attacked outside of class?" Rigel pointed out.
Umbridge swiveled to look at him. "Students will raise their hands in my class, Mr.—"
"Black," Rigel said glaring at her
"Surely the whole point of the class is to practice defensive spells," Hermione insisted, looking aggravated.
"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice.
"No, but —"
Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the whole point of any class is. Wizards-"
"Wizards much older and much more qualified had actual defense classes where they learned to defend themselves," Rigel snapped, suddenly angry at the way Umbridge was treating Hermione.
"Mr. Black, do you expect to be attacked in my class?" Umbridge snapped, rounding on him.
"Yes." Rigel snapped. "I do expect to be attacked.
Umbridge slowly stepped off her platform and clicked up the aisle, her heels snapping against the floor as she approached his desk. Rigel watched her approach unfazed.
"And why were you attacked, Mr. Black?" She hissed, eyes blazing.
Rigel rolled up his sleeves and showed where the basilisk bit him. "Second year, Slytherin's basilisk bit me." He pulled the buttons of his shirt exposing the scar where the troll hit him. "First year, I was attacked by a troll. Third-year, dementors tried to suck my friend's soul-"
"Detention for indecency!" Umbridge snapped, slapping her wand across the back of his hand. "Cover yourself this instant, Mr. Black!"
"I'm getting detention for answering your question, Professor?" Rigel asked indignantly. "That makes perfect sense."
"Do not disrespect me so!" Umbridge screamed, her toad face reddening.
"I'm not disrespecting, I'm staring facts," Rigel responded coolly. "We need to learn to defend ourselves in this class, especially since Voldemort is returned. He is back, the Potter twins saw him, and pretending otherwise—"
"He has not returned!" Umbridge screeched. "These are lies!"
This time Harry stood up.
"Harry, no!" Hermione whispered frantically.
"So what, Cedric Diggory just dropped dead then?" Rigel snapped, trying to take Umbridge's attention off Harry.
Umbridge stared at Rigel with more hatred than he thought humanly possible. "Detention for the rest of the week, Black! Cedric Diggory's death was an unfortunate accident—"
"Fortunate accident my arse!" Rigel bellowed. "Fine then you toad face bitch! Screw the ministry! Screw Cornelius Fudge-
"Mr. Black get out of my class this instant. Come back this at eight o clock for detention and I do not want to hear another word from you!" Umbridge yelled.
Rigel gathered his books furiously. He Spat at Umbridge Before rounding and storming out of the classroom. He ignored his friend's worried looks and hoped the twins would not get into more trouble while he was gone.
That evening, after his prefect round, Rigel headed up to Umbridge's classroom, irritated still from his argument.
Eliza's detention should be over by now and he hadn't got the chance to meet her.
He knocked on her office door loudly. A squeaky "come in" resounded in Umbridge's high-pitched voice. There were some people, Rigel felt, where just hearing their voice made you want to throttle them.
He stepped inside her office and almost vomited. The walls were completely pink, along with the desks tablecloth, tea set, pens, papers, and chairs. Plates with meowing cats hung in the walls, the chorus of mewling like a band of broken trumpets. Umbridge sat at the table, her pudgy, ringed fingers clutching a pink quill.
"Mr. Black," she said in a sickly sweet voice when Percy entered. "Take a seat."
Rigel refrained from screaming as he realized he had to write lines. He sat down in the pink chair while Umbridge handed him parchment and a quill.
"What should I write?"
She smiled at him. "I want you to write, 'I am a liar.'"
Rigel glared at her. "How many times?"
Umbridge giggled. "As long as it takes to sink in."
He stared at her. "You haven't given me any ink," he pointed out, an ominous feeling in his gut.
"Oh, you won't be needing any."
Rigel rolled his eyes but picked up the quill anyways. As he began to write, his right hand began to feel a little irritated, then it began to sting. His eyes moved to his hand, watching words engrave themselves on his skin, the very same words he was writing down on the parchment paper.
A painful, slicing sensation emerged across the back of his right hand. Confused, Percy looked down to see the words "I am a liar" being carved into his skin. His eyes widened, but the words disappeared right afterward. Turning back to look at the paper, he discovered the ink was blood red. Umbridge was making him write with his own blood. Rigel looked up to see the woman smiling at him innocently.
He bent his head back down and continued writing lines, ignoring the pain. He'd survived a decade of abuse, he's been sexually assaulted twice so this pain was nothing he couldn't handle. Rigel was just furious that Umbridge would do this and enraged at the infraction of his pride.
He spent the next few hours writing lines until the message did not fade from his hand but bled profusely. Rigel could guess that this magical wound will take years to fade
Umbridge finally let him go, so Rigel gathered his things and left her office. He tore off part of his shirt and wrapped it around his hand before walking back to the Gryffindor common room, however. This was strictly between Rigel and Umbridge and he didn't want anyone else seeing and getting involved.
The twins have suffered enough. He'll try and make their life easier