XLVIII. THIS MAN IS ON FIRE
19:09 ─❁────────── 19:79
◁ Ⅱ ▷
❝Wait then as my heart drops
And my back begins to tingle❞
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THE REST OF THE WEEKENED seemed to brighten for all the inhabitants within Gryffindor tower — well, technically, not all. Harry and Ron spent their day catching up with all their homework again; Hermione, who was up to date with all her work, was learning to bewitch her knitting needles so they could knit scarves on their own, and peculiarly Lucia was seen away from the other three, on her own.
Of course, it wasn't all too odd for the said girl to be on her own, but somehow this time it was different.
Ever since the last Hogsmeade trip they had, there was in a shift in her world, and she was terrified of it. Instead of analysing the problem like she always did, all she wanted was to run away from it, too cowardly to even face it head on like she did last year, which eventually led her to sitting by the banks of the Black Lake and being accompanied by the Giant Squid the resided in it. It was peaceful, the opposite of her mind and heart.
She should be happy, yet she could not.
When she walked back to Gryffindor Tower blankly, going through the portrait, stepping into the common room, it seemed that her mood did not upgrade but instead downgraded immensely at the sight of a hoard of Gryffindors gathering around. Curious, she approached the bunch.
A large sign filled her vision; it was affixed to the Gryffindor notice board, so large that it covered everything else on there. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.
——— BY ORDER OF ———
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts
All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded:
An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.
Signed,
Dolores Jane Umbridge
High Inquisitor
"Does this mean they're going to shut down the Gobstones Club?" an anxious looking second year asked his friend.
"I reckon you'll be okay with Gobstones," Ron said darkly from not only behind her, but as well as the second year, causing them all to jump.
"Honestly, Ron," scowled Lucia, whipping around to meet Harry and Ron.
Ron merely shrugged.
"I don't think we're going to be as lucky, though, do you?" he asked Harry as the second years hurried away.
Harry was reading the notice through again. The happiness that had filled him since Saturday was gone. His insides were pulsing with rage.
"This isn't a coincidence," he said, his hands forming fists. "She knows."
"She can't," said Ron at once.
"There were people listening in that pub. And let's face it, we don't know how many of the people who turned up we can trust... Any of them could have run off and told Umbridge..."
"Zacharias Smith!" said Ron at once, punching a fist into his hand. "Or — I thought that Michael Corner had a really shifty look too —"
"Don't bother with them, Ginger snaps, neither of them has an ounce of courage to snitch on us all," said Lucia firmly, furrowing her brows as she gazed back at the added decree. "Especially not after yesterday... They think you're loony, Harry, sure, but they also caught whiff of your temper."
"You're saying that they're scared to double cross Harry?" Ron scoffed.
"That's what I'm implying, yes," rebutted Lucia. "Also, just because they acted all tough and haughty yesterday, doesn't mean they're like that always,"
"I wonder if Hermione's seen this yet?" Harry said, looking around at the door to the girls' dormitories.
"Let's go and tell her," said Ron.
"Wait! you can't..." But she was too late.
He bounded forward, pulled open the door, and set off up the spiral staircase. Lucia winced when she heard a great groan coming from the entryway of the girls' staircase. "...go. Boys aren't allowed..."
Just as she entered through the door, she was on cue to see Ron attempting to go back upstairs, only for a loud sound of wailing klaxonlike sound emitting from the stairs, and before they knew it, the steps melted together to make a long, smooth stone slide. For a moment there, Ron tried to keep running, arms working madly like windmills, then he toppled over backward and shot down the newly created slide, coming to rest on his back at Lucia and Harry's feet.
"Er — I don't think we're allowed in the girls' dormitories," said Harry, pulling Ron to his feet and trying not to laugh.
"I was about to tell you lot that, but you're just too impatient," smiled Lucia musingly. She had never seen it occurred right in front of her eyes before, so she was actually quite thankful that Ron tried it.
Two fourth-year girls came zooming gleefully down the stone slide.
"Oooh, Lucia, who tried to get upstairs?" they giggled happily, leaping to their feet and ogling Harry and Ron.
"You two really love when this happens," said Lucia.
"Don't we all though?" one of them giggled. "So, who was it?" they asked eagerly.
"Me," said Ron, who was still rather disheveled. "I didn't realize that would happen. It's not fair!" he added to Harry, as the girls headed off for the portrait hole, still giggling madly. "You two are allowed in our dormitory, how come we're not allowed — ?"
"Well, it's an old-fashioned rule," said Hermione, who had just slid neatly onto a rug in front of them and was now getting to her feet, "but it says in Hogwarts: A History that the founders thought boys were less trustworthy than girls."
"Its also like a slide, so its pretty fun," said Lucia.
The two girls clapped their hand together cheerfully. Harry and Ron looked at them, surprised.
"Anyway, why were you trying to get in there?" Hermione asked.
"To see you — look at this!" said Ron, dragging her over to the notice board.
Hermione's eyes slid rapidly down the notice. Her expression became stony.
"Someone must have blabbed to her!" Ron said angrily.
"They can't have done," said Hermione in a low voice.
"You're so naive," said Ron, "you think just because you're all honorable and trustworthy —"
"No, they can't have done because I put a jinx on that piece of parchment we all signed," said Hermione grimly. "Believe me, if anyone's run off and told Umbridge, we'll know exactly who they are and they will really regret it."
"What'll happen to them?" said Ron eagerly.
"Well, put it this way," said Hermione, "it'll make Eloise Midgen's acne look like a couple of cute freckles. Come on, let's get down to breakfast and see what the others think... I wonder whether this has been put up in all the Houses?"
It was immediately apparent on entering the Great Hall that Umbridge's sign had not only appeared in Gryffindor Tower. There was a peculiar intensity about the chatter and an extra measure of movement in the Hall as people scurried up and down their tables conferring on what they had read. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lucia had barely taken their seats when Neville, Dean, Fred, George, and Ginny descended upon them.
"Did you see it?"
"D'you reckon she knows?"
"What are we going to do?"
They were all looking at Harry. He glanced around to make sure there were no teachers near them.
"We're going to do it anyway, of course," he said quietly.
"Knew you'd say that," said George, beaming and thumping Harry on the arm.
"The prefects as well?" said Fred, looking quizzically at Ron and Hermione.
"Of course," said Hermione coolly.
"Here comes Ernie and Hannah Abbott," said Ron, looking over his shoulder. "And those Ravenclaw blokes and Smith... and no one looks very spotty."
Hermione looked alarmed.
"Never mind spots, the idiots can't come over here now, it'll look really suspicious — sit down!" she mouthed to Ernie and Hannah, gesturing frantically to them to rejoin the Hufflepuff table. "Later! We'll — talk — to — you — later!"
"Ginny..." sighed Lucia, looking to her friend.
"I'll tell Michael," said Ginny impatiently, swinging herself off her bench. "The fool, honestly..."
"Today's a mess," said Lucia, sipping her milk.
As they set off for History of Magic, they encountered with another member of their secret study group.
"Harry! Ron!"
It was Angelina and she was hurrying toward them looking perfectly desperate.
"It's okay," said Harry quietly, when she was near enough to hear him. "We're still going to —"
"You realize she's including Quidditch in this?" Angelina said over him. "We have to go and ask permission to re-form the Gryffindor team!"
"What?" said Harry.
"No way," said Ron, appalled
"That's appalling!" said Lucia, baffled, but Hermione quickly pulled her back for the three Gryffindor Quidditch players to sort this out.
"You read the sign, it mentions teams too! So, listen, Harry... I am saying this for the last time... Please, please don't lose your temper with Umbridge again or she might not let us play anymore!"
"Okay, okay," said Harry, for Angelina looked as though she was on the verge of tears. "Don't worry, I'll behave myself..."
"Bet Umbridge is in History of Magic," said Ron grimly, as they set off for Binns's lesson. "She hasn't inspected Binns yet... Bet you anything she's there."
But he was wrong; the only teacher present when they entered was Professor Binns, floating an inch or so above his chair as usual and preparing to continue his monotonous drone on giant wars. The lesson today was oddly more boring than the others, Binns was droning on and on about the Goblin War and some of those who were known to participate it. Overall, it wasn't exciting.
Lucia spent the entirety of the lesson aimlessly doodling on her parchemnt, which earned her a poking glare from Hermione. Lucia frowned and was about to move on when she what she had doodle in the middle of her parchment. Head rose to her cheeks.
Lucia Potter... Lucia Potter... Lucia —
Before Hermione or terrifyingly, Harry could see it, Lucia ripped the parchment and folded it into a small square before she threw it inside of her schoolbag, littering it around, feeling hot all over. How could she have doodled that?
Was she not embarrassed writing something so ridiculous?
Someone please dug a hole for her to live in for forever. This was getting out of hand.
She drifted her eyes away from her hand and looked to the window, when she saw something peculiar. Hermione seem to notice it as well as she was quick to poke Harry for attention.
"What?"
She pointed at the window. Harry looked around. Hedwig was perched on the narrow window ledge, gazing through the thick glass at him, a letter tied to her leg.
"Oh, I've always loved that owl, she's so beautiful," Lavender sigh to Parvati.
Harry glanced around at Professor Binns who continued to read his notes, serenely unaware that the class's attention was even less focused upon him than usual. He slipped quietly off his chair, crouched down, and hurried along the row to the window, where he slid the catch and opened it very slowly.
He had expected Hedwig to hold out her leg so that he could remove the letter and then fly off to the Owlery, but the moment the window was open wide enough she hopped inside, hooting dolefully. He closed the window with an anxious glance at Professor Binns, crouched low again, and sped back to his seat with Hedwig on his shoulder. He regained his seat, transferred Hedwig to his lap, and made to remove the letter tied to her leg.
It was only then that he realized that Hedwig's feathers were oddly ruffled; some were bent the wrong way, and she was holding one of her wings at an odd angle.
"She's hurt!" Harry whispered, bending his head low over her. Lucia, Hermione, and Ron leaned in closer; Hermione even put down her quill. "Look — there's something wrong with her wing —"
Lucia reached out for the owl, which Harry was hesitant to let her take from him. She gave him an assuring look and successfully was able to get the owl to perch on her arm. When she made to touch the wing gently, Hedwig quivered, giving a little jump.
"What happened to you," said Lucia breathlessly quiet.
Hedwig made an incoherent hoot as a response. That concerned her very much.
"She got herself a broken wing... Harry — !" He jumped at the call of his name, "You have to get her to see someone before it gets worst," she told him worriedly.
Harry did not need to be told twice as Lucia handed Hedwig gently to Harry.
"Professor Binns," said Harry loudly, and everyone in the class turned to look at him. "I'm not feeling well."
Professor Binns raised his eyes from his notes, looking amazed, as always, to find the room in front of him full of people.
"Not feeling well?" he repeated hazily.
"Not at all well," said Harry firmly, getting to his feet while concealing Hedwig behind his back. "So I think I'll need to go to the hospital wing."
"Yes," said Professor Binns, clearly very much wrong-footed. "Yes... yes, hospital wing... well, off you go, then, Perkins..."
"I wonder what happened to her," said Hermione under her breath once Harry and Hedwig was gone.
"Nothing good," said Ron.
"Obviously," Lucia sighed, looking back out of the window. She didn't doubt who had done it...
Umbridge.
༻❁༺
Once the lessons were over, Lucia, Hermione, and Ron stood anxiously in the sheltered corner of the courtyard, where dozens and dozens of students were sweeping through as their cloak collars were turning up from the wind. They were hoping to see Harry out of luck, and their prayers were spoken when they saw Harry emerging through the crowd with a small scroll in his hands, him reading in the midst.
"Is Hedwig okay?" asked Hermione anxiously, the moment he was within earshot.
"Where did you take her?" asked Ron.
"Hopefully to someone professional," said Lucia sternly.
"To Grubbly-Plank," said Harry. "And I met McGonagall... Listen..."
And he told them what Professor McGonagall had said. To his surprise, neither of the others looked shocked; on the contrary, they exchanged significant looks.
"What?" said Harry, looking from Ron to Hermione, and to Lucia.
"Well, we were talking before you came... And we had this certain thought..." Lucia started slowly.
Hermione nodded nervously. "What if... someone had tried to intercept Hedwig? I mean, she's never been hurt on a flight before, has she?"
"And it is quite obvious someone did strike her down with that poor wing of hers," said Lucia darkly.
"Who's the letter from anyway?" asked Ron, taking the note from Harry.
"Snuffles," said Harry quietly.
Lucia giggled lightly. "Snuffles,"
"'Same time, same place'? Does he mean the fire in the common room?" Ron asked.
"Obviously," said Hermione, also reading the note. She looked uneasy. "I just hope nobody else has read this..."
"But it was still sealed and everything," said Harry, trying to convince himself as much as her. "And nobody would understand what it meant if they didn't know where we'd spoken to him before, would they?"
"Not to be the bearer of bad moods, but the worries are justifiable. I mean, it wouldn't be all too difficult for a wizard to unseal a scroll by magic, would it?" sighed Lucia. "And what if someone's watching the Floo Network?"
"But I don't really see how we can warn him not to come without that being intercepted too!" Hermione said.
They hurried down the stone steps to the dungeons for Potions, all four of them lost in thought. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they broke out of their dazes by the voice of Draco Malfoy, who was standing just outside Snape's classroom door, waving around an official-looking piece of parchment, and talking much louder than was necessary so that they could hear every word.
"Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry... It'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?"
"Don't rise," Hermione whispered imploringly to Harry and Ron, who were both watching Malfoy, faces set, and fists clenched. "It's what he wants."
"I mean," said Malfoy, raising his voice a little more, his gray eyes glittering malevolently in Harry and Ron's direction, "if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance... From what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years... And as for Potter... My father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's... apparently, they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic..."
Lucia stood frozen on the spot.
"...My father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's... apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic..."
Did she hear him right? Surely, she couldn't be... even for Malfoy that would be a cruel comment to say...
It must've been my imagination... yes, it is my —
But as her eyes rose back upfront, she felt her breath ragging as Malfoy made a grotesque face, his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling. Crabbe and Goyle gave their usual grunts of laughter, Pansy Parkinson shrieked with glee.
She heard him right. He did said that.
Was it just her, or was the walls caving in on them? Did the corridors she got warmer? Was she getting dizzy? Was she sick? Why couldn't she breathe? She wanted to puke, she wanted to run away, she wanted to stab the pain in her throat that was enabling from speaking as thousands of needs began to prickle agonisingly in her brain, as if digging through the archive of her memories and into the restricted section in which she hasn't touched for almost a decade.
She blinked and her only reality was the flashes of that night. That night began her misery. That night where she lost everything right in front of her eyes, bloodied and bruised. She was scared, terrified, and felt as if she wanted to die right there. She wanted to carve that memory out of her rotting brain, too painful to recall.
Someone help her.
Someone save her.
She remembered that to be her last memory before she blacked out that night.
She recalled those tears that ran down her face when she woke up, and all she felt was not remorse, but the blossoming sense of revenge.
"You will be all right, no one is going to hurt you here, my Mela —"
But her words were never finished, for the music after was gone. The dulcet melodies were nothing more than offkey and discord. She was angry, sad, and before she knew it, the abyss successfully engulfed without her even knowing it herself.
As Lucia stared straight at Malfoy, she found her fist slowly clenching little by little, her chest heaving up and down heavily. How dare he?
Right as the everlasting rage was getting its way, she couldn't react as something collided hard against Lucia's shoulder, causing her to be recalled back to herself, knocking her sideways to the wall. She saw Neville charging past them, heading straight for Malfoy.
The anger within her quickly diminished as Lucia immediately got back to her feet. "Neville — NO!"
Harry leapt forward and seized the back of Neville's robes; Neville struggled frantically, his fists flailing, trying desperately to get at Malfoy who looked, for a moment, extremely shocked.
"Help me!" Harry flung at Ron, managing to get an arm around Neville's neck and dragging him backward, away from the Slytherins.
Crabbe and Goyle were now flexing their arms, closing in front of Malfoy, ready for the fight. Ron hurried forward and seized Neville's arms; together, he and Harry succeeded in dragging Neville back into the Gryffindor line. Neville's face was scarlet; the pressure Harry was exerting on his throat rendered him quite incomprehensible, but odd words spluttered from his mouth.
"Lucia..." Hermione glanced at the girl with her eyes as wide as saucers, noticing the tears that grazed her friend's cheeks like waterfall. "Are you..."
Lucia only shrugged her shoulders before Hermione could touch her, flinching. She heaved a breath, narrowing her eyes at the Malfoy, as though locking him as her target. Though her words had came out different, she really did wished Neville had taken a jab on Malfoy, but knowing what the outcome could be, she also didn't want Neville to face detention with Snape...
"Not... funny... don't... Mungo's... show... him..." she heard Neville. Out of everyone in the whole school, Lucia understood, for she related to him the most.
Which meant that her anger did very much exceeded Neville's. Which also meant that she felt uncontrollable rage from within her to the point that she didn't care what the aftermath would be for her; Snape's detention compared to Umbridge? She was already numb at this point and was there really nothing to lose.
He deserves it.
Malfoy deserves what was coming for him.
Her legs began moving on its own, her mind going blank as though her body was no longer in control. The conscious that held her rationality was slowly slipping away from her fingers, replaced by the overwhelming rage that she felt for so long that was forcefully kept hidden as she walked past the three and stood in front of them.
Malfoy cocked a mocking brow at her, but she didn't react, only taking a daunting step forward.
"Personally, I don't think you should be mocking people from that ward," she said, taking another step. "Personally, I think your words sometimes hold weight, did you know that?"
"What's she on about?" Pansy narrowed her eyes.
"Shut up, Parkinson. No one has the time to deal with you," Lucia said, not bothering to spare a glance at the bobbed-girl's way.
"You —"
"Hey, Malfoy," she called him once more, but there was a certain shift of atmosphere in the air; Harry watched along with his peers as the ebony-haired girl's eyes not faltering from Malfoy's sneering gaze. Her eyes were dull, the life that he had associated her with was no longer there. But what came after was more shocking than ever:
She stood tall before Malfoy, her head up as if she was looking down at him. As if she had enough of his rubbish already. Then she said, "Have you ever wonder whether your head ever looks good on a pole? Because I did,"
Her tone was calm yet so ominous with emphasis in a way that ran chills down Harry, and he was sure everyone — except Neville, who was engrossed in his own rage to even notice — spines. Harry saw the changed of expression from Malfoy from a haughty one to a frankly petrified spoilt little boy that he had always been.
It brought satisfactory to Harry, but as well as concern for Lucia.
As Malfoy finally regained the little courage he had to rebut, the dungeon door opened. Snape appeared there. His black eyes swept up the Gryffindor line to the point where Harry and Ron were wrestling with Neville, and to where Lucia had retreated to the other girls, all of whom were huddled up around her, comforting her.
"Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom?" Snape said in his cold, sneering voice. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Stop with that deafening cries, Miss DiFiore — release Longbottom, Potter, or it will be detention. Inside, all of you."
Harry let go of Neville, who stood panting and glaring at him.
"I had to stop you," Harry gasped, picking up his bag. "Crabbe and Goyle would've torn you apart."
Neville said nothing, he merely snatched up his own bag and stalked off into the dungeon.
"What in the name of Merlin," said Ron slowly, as they followed Neville, "was that about?"
Harry did not answer. He knew exactly why the subject of people who were in St. Mungo's because of magical damage to their brains was highly distressing to Neville, but he had sworn to Dumbledore that he would not tell anyone Neville's secret. Even Neville did not know that Harry knew, but why did Lucia react the way she did as well?
Hermione reluctantly let Lucia go off on her own to where her and Neville's table resided, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione took their usual seats at the back of the class and pulled out parchment, quills, and their copies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. The class around them was whispering about what Neville had just done and Lucia's anomalous reaction, but when Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang everybody fell silent immediately.
"You will notice," said Snape in his low, sneering voice, "that we have a guest with us today."
He gestured toward the dim corner of the dungeon, and Lucia's face immediately twisted in disgust; Professor Umbridge was sitting there, clipboard on her knee. Snape and Umbridge, the two teachers that many hated was in the same room. Not great.
"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend — instructions" — he waved his wand again — "on the board. Carry on."
Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner.
"Neville, with that grip of yours, you're going to end up snapping your wand in two," Lucia said easily, pouring a good amount of salamander blood inside her mixture.
"Bugger off," he snapped.
However, Lucia merely simpered. "That tone doesn't look quite attracting on you, Nev,"
"Like I care," said Neville, silently scoffing as he threw ingredients into his cauldron. Then his voice became quieter, "You heard what Malfoy said..."
"I did," she replied gently.
"He's foul,"
"I know,"
"Harry and Ron should've let me take a jab on him,"
"I wanted that too,"
"Our parents..." Neville glanced her way, "You're still shaking, Lucia."
Lucia paused, before slowly her eyes gazed down to her hands. Neville was right, she was shaking uncontrollably. And no matter what she tries, it just wouldn't stop. But she knew what this was; it was her punishment for not keeping her mouth shut against Malfoy. For not being able to be kept in those shackles of hers.
But was it something she regretted, going against Malfoy in a more intimate way? Not really... she felt more satisfied than regret.
She loved it.
She loved seeing the way Malfoy's face twisted into subtle horror from her words. A little scare wouldn't hurt anyone.
She clenched her quivering fist, "It's normal,"
"He really deserves it, huh?" Neville managed to smile weakly. "For what he said... he deserves it. If it weren't a punch from me, I'm glad it's you that scared him,"
"Neville —" But he stopped her before she could continue, nudging her ribs.
She furrowed her eyes and and looked to where he was beckoning his head and saw Umbridge on her two feet, prancing between two lines of desks toward Snape, who was bending over Dean Thomas's cauldron.
"Uh-oh, prepare for trouble," sighed Neville.
Lucia smiled weakly. "And make it double,"
"Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level," Umbridge said briskly to Snape's back. "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."
Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her.
"Now... how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.
"Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable.
"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.
"Yes," said Snape quietly.
"But you were unsuccessful?"
Snape's lip curled.
"Obviously."
Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard.
And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"
"Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry.
"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge.
"I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily.
"Oh, I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile.
"I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed.
"Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers' — er — backgrounds..."
She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson and began questioning her about the lessons.
Immediately as Potions ended, Lucia walked alongside Neville as she and him conversed about Malfoy, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione, unbeknownst to the pair, was walking behind them, eyeing them concerningly. After the incident with Malfoy, the three of them couldn't help but be worried for their friends and their anomaly of actions.
Lucia tuned out everything around her. All she could think of right now was Malfoy being crushed by a big boulder... That would indeed ease her heart.
Soon after climbing up into the Divination classroom, Lucia bade Neville and skipped her way to the back, where she, Harry, and Ron sat. Not long after, the two boys joined her.
"We didn't get to ask, but are you okay?" Harry asked immediately as he took his sit beside the DiFiore.
Lucia sent the two a half-hearted smile, "I'm fine. Never been better actually," she answered, though neither could pick up whether it was sarcasm or not. Noticing their wary gazes, she sighed, "Fine. I'm just a bit shaken up I guess..."
"Why?" Harry bluntly asked, Ron quickly smacked his best friend for his blank question. "— Not that you have to answer of course — just curious — I'm — well —"
She laughed lightly, "Charming, Harry," but then shook her head in amusement. "I'm fine, really, it's that Malfoy's words brought some unhappy memories..."
The look on her face made Harry want to question more. He was both curious and troubled by everything that occurred, but he didn't look pass the reluctance in her eyes, which immediately restrained him from asking more. He was, after all, her... friend. Yes, that was it; her friend. Nothing more, and nothing less. Especially not an interrogator. There was no need for her to be interrogated in the first place.
Though it was difficult, he managed to change the topic into something he knew she much enjoy; they talked about some conspiracy theories from the Muggle world.
This thoroughly worked, making not only Lucia, but him as well, forgetting all the anger they were feeling just moments ago. It felt as though they were the only one in the room, reminding of when they were alone and would talk in front of the fireplace in the soothing and homey common room in the Gryffindor Tower — tuning out Ron's voice as he deliberately asked them whatever muggle stuff they were talking about without them — it truly felt peaceful.
But their salvation was cut short when Professor Trelawney handed out copies of The Dream Oracle yet again. It seemed, however, that the pair of Gryffindors was not the only person in Divination who currently had a temper.
Professor Trelawney slammed a copy of the Oracle down on the table between Lucia, Harry, and Ron and swept away, her lips pursed; she threw the next copy of the Oracle at Seamus and Dean, narrowly avoiding Seamus's head, and thrust the final one into Neville's chest with such force that he slipped off his pouf.
"Well, carry on!" said Professor Trelawney loudly, her voice high pitched and somewhat hysterical. "You know what to do! Or am I such a substandard teacher that you have never learned how to open a book?"
The class stared perplexedly at her and then at each other. As Professor Trelawney flounced back to the high-backed teacher's chair, her magnified eyes full of angry tears; Harry leaned his head closer to Ron and Lucia and muttered, "I think she's got the results of her inspection back."
"I can see that," said Lucia pitifully.
"Professor?" said Parvati Patil in a hushed voice (she and Lavender had always rather admired Professor Trelawney). "Professor, is there anything — er — wrong?"
"Wrong!" cried Professor Trelawney in a voice throbbing with emotion. "Certainly not! I have been insulted, certainly... Insinuations have been made against me... Unfounded accusations levelled... but no, there is nothing wrong, certainly not..."
She took a great shuddering breath and looked away from Parvati, angry tears spilling from under her glasses.
"I say nothing," she choked, "of sixteen years' devoted service... It has passed, apparently, unnoticed... But I shall not be insulted, no, I shall not!"
"But Professor, who's insulting you?" asked Parvati timidly.
"The establishment!" said Professor Trelawney in a deep, dramatic, wavering voice. "Yes, those with eyes too clouded by the Mundane to See as I See, to Know as I Know... Of course, we Seers have always been feared, always persecuted... It is — alas — our fate..."
She gulped, dabbed at her wet cheeks with the end of her shawl, and then pulled a small, embroidered handkerchief from her sleeve, into which she blew her nose very hard with a sound like Peeves blowing a raspberry.
Ron sniggered. Lavender shot him a disgusted look.
"Not the time," glared Lucia from beside him.
"Merlin, sorry!" Ron held his hand up in defence.
"Professor," said Parvati, "do you mean... is it something Professor Umbridge...?"
"Do not speak to me about that woman!" cried Professor Trelawney, leaping to her feet, her beads rattling and her spectacles flashing. "Kindly continue with your work!"
And she spent the rest of the lesson striding among them, tears still leaking from behind her glasses, muttering what sounded like threats under her breath.
"...may well choose to leave... the indignity of it... on probation... we shall see... how she dares..."
"You and Umbridge have got something in common," Harry told Hermione quietly when they met again in Defense Against the Dark Arts. "She obviously reckons Trelawney's an old fraud too... Looks like she's put her on probation."
Umbridge entered the room as he spoke, wearing her black velvet bow and an expression of great smugness.
"Good afternoon, class."
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted drearily.
"Wands away, please..." But there was no answering flurry of movement this time; nobody had bothered to take out their wands.
"Please turn to page thirty-four of Defensive Magical Theory and read the third chapter, entitled 'The Case for Non-Offensive Responses to Magical Attack.' There will be —"
"— no need to talk," said Ron and Lucia at the same time under their breath, rather bored of this already.
༻❁༺
"No Quidditch practice," said Angelina in hollow tones when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lucia entered the common room that night after dinner.
"But I kept my temper!" said Harry, horrified. "I didn't say anything to her, Angelina, I swear, I —"
"I know, I know," said Angelina miserably. "She just said she needed a bit of time to consider."
"Consider what?" said Ron angrily. "She's given the Slytherins permission, why not us?"
"Possibly because she hates other houses that aren't Slytherin?" said Lucia humorously.
"Well," said Hermione, "look on the bright side — at least now you'll have time to do Snape's essay!"
"That's a bright side, is it?" snapped Harry, whilst Ron stared incredulously at Hermione. "No Quidditch practice and extra Potions?"
"Potions is not bad if you forget that Snape is the teacher," muttered Lucia.
Harry slumped down into a chair, dragged his Potions essay reluctantly from his bag, and set to work.
While trying to finish up their homework, there was also an incredible amount of noise in the room that halted them from finishing their work: Fred and George appeared finally to have perfected one type of Skiving Snackbox, which they were taking turns to demonstrate to a cheering and whooping crowd.
What with the regular sounds of retching, cheering, and Fred and George taking advance orders from the crowd, it was exceptionally difficult for Lucia, who was focusing hard reading her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay over and over again, trying to read as much as she could only for her to forget and forced to reread the confusing words of the book.
She was near crying out of frustration at how many times she had to reread the whole book.
"I give up!" cried Lucia, throwing her Defence book across the table and hiding her face in her arms.
Hermione was not helping matters; the cheers and sound of vomit hitting the bottom of Fred and George's bucket were punctuated by loud and disapproving sniffs that was most definitely distracting.
"Just go and stop them, then!" Harry said irritably, after crossing out the wrong weight of powdered griffin claw for the fourth time and rubbing the back of Lucia, who was most definitely crying from the disruption.
"I can't, they're not technically doing anything wrong," said Hermione through gritted teeth. "They're quite within their rights to eat the foul things themselves, and I can't find a rule that says the other idiots aren't entitled to buy them, not unless they're proven to be dangerous in some way, and it doesn't look as though they are..."
She, Lucia, Harry, and Ron watched George projectile-vomit into the bucket, gulp down the rest of the chew, and straighten up, beaming with his arms wide to protracted applause.
"You know, I don't get why Fred and George only got three O.W.L.s each," said Harry, watching as Fred, George, and Lee collected gold from the eager crowd. "They really know their stuff..."
"Oh, they only know flashy stuff that's no real use to anyone," said Hermione disparagingly.
"No real use?" said Ron in a strained voice. "Hermione, they've got about twenty-six Galleons already..."
"Not to mention it could be really useful if you are in a tight spot sometimes," said Lucia, dabbing her tears away with her Harry's sleeves as she sniffled occasionally. "Practically ingenious."
It was a long while before the crowd around the Weasleys dispersed, and then Fred, Lee, and George sat up counting their takings even longer, so that it was well past midnight when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lucia finally had the common room to themselves again. At long last, Fred closed the doorway to the boys' dormitories behind him, rattling his box of Galleons ostentatiously so that Hermione scowled.
Harry, who was making very little progress with his Potions essay, decided to give it up for the night. As he put his books away, Ron, who was dozing lightly in an armchair, gave a muffled grunt, awoke, looked blearily into the fire and said, "Sirius!"
Harry whipped around; Sirius's untidy dark head was sitting in the fire again.
"Hi," he said, grinning.
"Hi," chorused Harry, Ron, and Hermione, while Lucia waved at his head; all four were kneeled down upon the hearthrug. Crookshanks purred loudly and approached the fire, trying, despite the heat, to put his face close to Sirius's.
"How're things?" said Sirius.
"Not that good," said Harry, as Hermione pulled Crookshanks back to stop him singeing his whiskers. "The Ministry's forced through another decree, which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch teams —"
"— or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?" said Sirius.
There was a short pause.
"How did you know about that?" Harry demanded.
"You want to choose your meeting places more carefully," said Sirius, grinning still more broadly. "The Hog's Head, I ask you..."
"I knew it ~" Lucia said in a singsong tone.
"Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!" said Hermione defensively. "That's always packed with people —"
"— which means you'd have been harder to overhear," said Sirius. "You've got a lot to learn, Hermione."
"Neither of the choices are clever in my opinion, but you do you I guess," said Lucia. Sirius casted her a deadpanning look, in which she held her hand up in defence.
"Who overheard us?" Harry demanded.
"Mundungus, of course," said Sirius, and when they all looked puzzled, he laughed. "He was the witch under the veil."
"That was Mundungus?" Harry said, stunned. "What was he doing in the Hog's Head?"
"What do you think he was doing?" said Sirius impatiently. "Keeping an eye on you, of course."
"I'm still being followed?" asked Harry angrily.
"Yeah, you are," said Sirius, "and just as well, isn't it, if the first thing you're going to do on your weekend off is organize an illegal defense group."
But he looked neither angry nor worried; on the contrary, he was looking at Harry with distinct pride.
"Why was Dung hiding from us?" asked Ron, sounding disappointed. "We'd've liked to've seen him."
"He was banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago," said Sirius, "and that barman's got a long memory. We lost Moody's spare Invisibility Cloak when Sturgis was arrested, so Dung's been dressing as a witch a lot lately... Anyway... First of all, Ron — I've sworn to pass on a message from your mother."
"Oh yeah?" said Ron, sounding apprehensive.
"She says on no account whatsoever are you to take part in an illegal secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group. She says you'll be expelled for sure, and your future will be ruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also" — Sirius's eyes turned to the other three — "advises Harry, Lucia, and Hermione not to proceed with the group —"
"But I'm not a founder, only they are!" exclaimed Lucia, immediately throwing her friends under the bus...
"Way to be loyal," scoffed Harry, as he rolled his eyes playfully.
Lucia smiled sheepishly. "I have to think about myself sometimes,"
"I don't fault you for that, I guess," Harry rolled his eyes.
Sirius twitched a smile at this. They reminded him of another pair, yet they were so different...
He shook his head, "Needless to say, you're apart of the founder community now in Molly's eyes," said Sirius to Lucia, who gaped appallingly, with a grin. "Though she accepts that she has no authority over either of them and simply begs them to remember that she has their best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you'd all have been in real trouble, and she can't say it for herself because she's on duty tonight."
"On duty doing what?" said Ron quickly.
"Never you mind, just stuff for the Order," said Sirius. "So, it's fallen to me to be the messenger and make sure you tell her I passed it all on, because I don't think she trusts me to."
There was another pause in which Crookshanks, mewing, attempted to paw Sirius's head, and Ron fiddled with a hole in the hearthrug.
"So, you want me to say I'm not going to take part in the defense group?" he muttered finally.
"Me? Certainly not!" said Sirius, looking surprised. "I think it's an excellent idea!"
"You do?" said Harry, his heart lifting.
"Of course I do!" said Sirius. "D'you think your father and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?"
"But — last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks —"
"Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!" said Sirius impatiently. "This year we know that there's someone outside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!"
"And if we do get expelled?" Hermione asked, a quizzical look on her face.
"Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!" said Harry, staring at her.
"I know it was... I just wondered what Sirius thought," she said, shrugging.
"Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue," said Sirius.
"He's got a point," said Lucia begrudgingly.
"Hear, hear," said Harry and Ron enthusiastically.
"So," said Sirius, "how are you organizing this group? Where are you meeting?"
"Well, that's a bit of a problem now," said Harry. "Dunno where we're going to be able to go..."
"How about the Shrieking Shack?" suggested Sirius.
"Hey, that's an idea!" said Ron excitedly, but Hermione made a skeptical noise and all four of them looked at her, Sirius's head turning in the flames.
"Well, Sirius, it's just that there were only four of you meeting in the Shrieking Shack when you were at school," said Hermione, "and all of you could transform into animals and I suppose you could all have squeezed under a single Invisibility Cloak if you'd wanted to. But there are twenty-eight of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn't need so much an Invisibility Cloak as an Invisibility Marquee —"
"Fair point," said Sirius, looking slightly crestfallen. "Well, I'm sure you'll come up with somewhere... There used to be a pretty roomy secret passageway behind that big mirror on the fourth floor, you might have enough space to practice jinxes in there —"
"Fred and George told me it's blocked," said Harry, shaking his head. "Caved in or something."
"Oh..." said Sirius, frowning. "Well, I'll have a think and get back to —"
He broke off. His face was suddenly tense, alarmed. He turned sideways, apparently looking into the solid brick wall of the fireplace.
"Sirius?" said Harry anxiously.
But he had vanished. Harry gaped at the flames for a moment, then turned to look at Ron, Silvia, and Hermione.
"I don't like this..." whispered Lucia anxiously.
"Why did he — ?"
Hermione gave a horrified gasp and leapt to her feet, still staring at the fire.
A hand had appeared amongst the flames, groping as though to catch hold of something; a stubby, short-fingered hand covered in ugly old-fashioned rings...
The four of them ran for it; at the door to the girls' dormitory, Lucia and Hermione held each other in an embrace as they watched Umbridge's hand was still making snatching movements amongst the flames, as though she knew exactly where Sirius's hair had been moments before and was determined to seize it.