The next few days were boring. All anyone was talking about was the next Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, even though everyone knew that Hufflepuff would win. Without Harry, Fred, and George the Gryffindor team was lousy. They were still alright, but Ron just wasn't a good keeper, probably because of stage fright.
Finally the match came and to nobody's surprise Hufflepuff won, but only by ten points because Ginny had caught the snitch quickly. Of course at the end of the match, Pansy and her friends started singing "Weasley is Our King." Draco grinned proudly but thankfully didn't join in.
The next morning Delilah and Draco entered the Great Hall just after the morning post owls. There seemed to be way more than usual, and most of them were heading towards... Harry? Yet no one seemed to know why. The reason became clear when mid-morning enormous signs had been put up all over the school, not just on House notice boards, but in the corridors and classrooms too.
— BY ORDER OF —
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts
Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven.
Signed:
Dolores Jane Umbridge
HIGH INQUISITOR
"Hey Draco," Delilah whispered. "Want to get a copy?"
He grinned.
"Thought you'd never ask."
In the middle of Transfiguration he had managed it.
"Got this from a Hufflepuff. They really are great at finding things."
He handed her a paper that looked like an extract from their Transfiguration textbook.
"Tap it with your wand and say toadette."
Delilah snorted.
"That's insulting to Toadette, but alright."
She did as instructed and the page turned into Harry's article. Delilah read over it. It was basically just what had happened in the maze, how Cedric had died, and which Death Eaters had shown up, so all things Harry had already told her.
She tapped her wand against it again and it turned back into the Transfiguration page.
Meanwhile Professor Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets. It was obvious she was looking for copies of The Quibbler, but the students were several steps ahead of her. The pages carrying Harry's interview had been bewitched to resemble extracts from textbooks if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to peruse it again. Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it.
The teachers were, of course, forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree Number Twenty-six, but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same. They started praising Harry and awarding him for the most random things. Delilah didn't have any classes with him with teachers that would do this, but she overheard what had been happening in the halls.
"No, really," a Hufflepuff insisted to their Ravenclaw friend. "Professor Sprout gave him twenty points for passing her a watering can."
The Ravenclaw snorted.
"At least she didn't give him a box of sugar mice like Flitwick did. Sure he was brave and all, and I totally believe him, but really? Why is he always the one that gets favoritism? First Dumbledore and now most teachers.... It's starting to get ridiculous."
"It was very brave though, I don't think either of us could have done it."
Delilah was tempted to butt in and say maybe when they saw their friend get murdered they could get some favoritism, but Umbridge came up to the pair and demanded to go through their bags. Delilah hurried away before she noticed her.
Most people seemed to believe Harry and think he was a hero, but that night in the Slytherin common room she heard plenty of sour conversations about how he had accused a relative of being a Death Eater. Yet none of them could contradict him anywhere else, because they'd have to admit to reading the banned article.
"Hey, Delilah," Daphne said as she walked up to her. "Want to go do our nails?"
Knowing she probably had another motive, Delilah agreed.
Sure enough, once Daphne closed her door she put a charm on it so no one could hear what they were saying.
"Ok, what do you want to talk about?" said Delilah.
"Nails first. We'll talk once they're dry."
And so they painted their nails. Daphne went for a bright blue that matched her eyes while Delilah chose a grayish blue that made Daphne smirk.
"What?"
"Oh nothing." Her eyes sparkled, saying that there was something.
"So now can you tell me what you wanted to talk about?"
"Harry's article."
Of course it was about that.
"I didn't know he was doing it."
But Daphne shook her head.
"No, I just... wanted to tell you that... I believe Harry."
Delilah blinked. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but that had not been it.
Daphne continued.
"My family has been acting... odd since last summer. His story, now that I've actually heard his version instead of just the Ministry's, makes my family's actions make sense. And with the disappearances...." She trailed off.
They stared at each other.
"Um, that's good?" Delilah said. She didn't know how else to respond. "I'm sorry about your family," she added.
Daphne shrugged.
"It's fine. I'm fine, or I will be. It's not too surprising."
Delilah pulled her into a hug.
"It's still hard."
She hugged her back.
"I'll be fine."
"It's starting to get late," Delilah said. "We should probably go to bed."
Daphne nodded and Delilah left, quietly closing the door behind her.
The week did not improve as it progressed, but it didn't worsen either. Sturgis Podmore had gotten arrested for trying to get somewhere in the Ministry, and Filch got so irritated that to Draco's dismay he banned "Weasley is Our King." The only truly interesting thing happened near the end of the week.
After dinner a huge crowd surrounded the entrance hall. Delilah pushed through until she could see what was happening.
Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the crowd with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them upside down; it looked very much as though it had been thrown down the stairs after her. Professor Trelawney was staring, apparently terrified, at something Delilah could not see but that seemed to be standing at the foot of the stairs.
"No!" she shrieked. "NO! This cannot be happening.... It cannot... I refuse to accept it!"
"You didn't realize this was coming?" said a high girlish voice, sounding callously amused, and Delilah, moving slightly to her left, saw that Trelawney's terrifying vision was nothing other than Professor Umbridge. Delilah understood why she looked so tormented.
"Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?"
"You c-can't!" howled Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, "you c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"
"It was your home," said Professor Umbridge, and Delilah resisted the urge to puke at the enjoyment stretching her toad-like face as she watched Professor Trelawney sink, sobbing uncontrollably, onto one of her trunks, "until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."
But she stood and watched, with an expression of gloating enjoyment, as Professor Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking backward and forward on her trunk in paroxysms of grief. Her sobs were muffled a moment later by oncoming footsteps. Professor McGonagall had broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to Professor Trelawney and was patting her firmly on the back while withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes.
"There, there, Sibyll... Calm down.... Blow your nose on this.... It's not as bad as you think, now.... You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts...."
"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" said Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. "And your authority for that statement is...?"
"That would be mine," said a deep voice.
The oak front doors had swung open. Students beside them scuttled out of the way as Dumbledore appeared in the entrance. What he had been doing out in the grounds Delilah didn't care to imagine, but he seemed to be trying to look impressive, framed in the doorway against an oddly misty night. Leaving the doors wide behind him, he strode forward through the circle of onlookers toward the place where Professor Trelawney sat, tearstained and trembling, upon her trunk, Professor McGonagall alongside her.
"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" said Umbridge with a singularly unpleasant little laugh. "I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here" — she pulled a parchment scroll from within her robes — "an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she — that is to say, I — feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."
Yet Dumbledore continued to keep smiling. He must have a scheme up his sleeve. He always did. He looked down at Professor Trelawney, who was still sobbing and choking on her trunk, and said, "You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid," he went on, with a courteous little bow, "that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."
At this, Professor Trelawney gave a wild little laugh in which a hiccup was barely hidden.
"No — no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere —"
"No," said Dumbledore sharply. "It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll." He turned to Professor McGonagall. "Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"
"Of course," said McGonagall. "Up you get, Sibyll...."
Professor Sprout came hurrying forward out of the crowd and grabbed Professor Trelawney's other arm. Together they guided her past Umbridge and up the marble stairs. Professor Flitwick went scurrying after them, his wand held out before him; he squeaked, "Locomotor trunks!" and Professor Trelawney's luggage rose into the air and proceeded up the staircase after her, Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear.
Professor Umbridge was standing stock-still, staring at Dumbledore, who continued to smile benignly.
"And what," she said in a whisper that nevertheless carried all around the entrance hall, "are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"
"Oh, that won't be a problem," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."
"You've found — ?" said Umbridge shrilly. "You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Twenty two —"
"— the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if — and only if — the headmaster is unable to find one," said Dumbledore. "And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?"
He turned to face the open front doors, through which night mist was now drifting and hooves could be heard, coming closer. There was a shocked murmur around the hall and those nearest the doors hastily moved even farther backward, some of them tripping over in their haste to clear a path for the newcomer.
Through the mist came a handsome centaur with white-blond hair and astonishingly blue eyes.
"This is Firenze," said Dumbledore happily to a thunderstruck Umbridge. "I think you'll find him suitable."
Dumbledore seemed to have his dramatic flare down.
As a dull March blurred into a squally April, talk about what Trawlaney died down and life returned to one long series of stress and work. Teachers weren't helping matters by giving them lots of homework and reminding them about O.W.L.s. The exams were nearing, that much was true, but they still were a while away.
Yet Umbridge was still coming to every Care of Magical Creatures lesson, and Delilah had overheard some students placing bets on how long he'd last. They'd stopped once she had threatened to put them in detention.
To top it all off, all the fifth years were suffering from stress to some degree, but Hannah Abbott became the first to receive a Calming Draught from Madam Pomfrey after she burst into tears and sobbed that she was too stupid to take exams and wanted to leave school now.
To help with their stress they tried to meet for D.A. as often as possible, since they were getting more and more homework, but on top of intensive Quidditch practice and Prefect duties meetings were getting more and more spread apart. Still, they made sure to practice their spells at least once every week.
Delilah wished she could have been working on her spells now, she needed to get down the latest Transfiguration spell. Instead she had to do some rounds in the upper area of Hogwarts with Draco. It was terribly boring, nothing ever happened.
As they passed the Room of Requirement, Delilah wondered about Harry's little group. They seemed very good at keeping their meetings private. She had watched some of the members and they never talked about when they would happen. It was almost like they had a secret code or way to contact each other.
"Guess what," Draco said, sleepily nudging her. "Only half an hour left."
"Finally, we can go to bed soon." She yawned. "Could we just head back now? What can happen in thirty minutes?"
He shook his head.
"Not worth it, if Umbridge or Snape found out we'd be in big trouble."
Delilah nodded. He was right, it wasn't worth the risk.
They walked in silence. It was broken by a pair of running footsteps. They exchanged a look before hurrying off to follow them.
"Where are they?" Delilah heard someone mutter.
They rounded a corner and saw... Blaise Zabini? What in the blazes was he doing?
He saw them and hurried over, panting.
"Had to get you," he wheezed. "Your brother's hideout is near here. Meeting Umbridge and others there. Hurry." And he took off. Draco and Delilah followed him. She glanced at him, hoping he understood what was happening, but Draco seemed just as confused as she was.
Blaise stopped a corner away from the Room of Requirement. Umbridge and a handful of Slytherins were standing, peering around the corner.
"Ah good, you found them," Umbridge said. "They haven't left yet, so we are going to enter. First-"
She was cut off by Pansy.
"A door has appeared!"
Umbridge snapped back around. Then, before any of them could react, it opened and a crowd of students rushed out.
"After them!" she called.
Still confused, Delilah jogged behind them while Draco hurried ahead. At the intersection they all split up. She headed down a random one.
Then she saw Harry. Of course he glanced behind him and saw her.
"You're helping her?" he accused, shooting a spell. She reflected it.
"No, I don't know what's happening!" she protested.
They started to duel, and Delilah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was going easy on him, yet he seemed to be going easy on her too. She couldn't let him win if he was trying to make it easier for her.
"Come on dork," she murmured. "Jinx me already."
Sure enough he got a spell past her defenses and she became stunned.
His eyes widened and started to move to her when footsteps could be heard. He turned and ran, only to be stopped by a tripping jinx.
"Finite Incantatem." Delilah sat up and let Draco pull her up. He glanced at Harry, and his face paled.
"We got one Professor!" he called after a moment of hesitation.
Umbridge came bustling around the far corner, breathless but wearing a delighted smile.
"It's him!" she said jubilantly at the sight of Harry on the floor. "Excellent, Draco, Delilah, excellent, oh, very good — fifty points to Slytherin each! I'll take him from here.... Stand up, Potter!"
Harry stood up, glaring. Delilah turned to Umbridge. She had never seen her looking so happy, not even after she had banned Harry, Fred, and George from Quidditch.
She seized Harry's arm in a vice-like grip and turned, beaming broadly, to Draco. "You two hop along and see if you can round up anymore of them, Draco," she said. "Tell the others to look in the library — anybody out of breath — check the bathrooms, Miss Parkinson or Potter can do the girls' ones — off you go — and you," she added in her softest, most dangerous voice, as they walked away. "You can come with me to the headmaster's office, Potter."
Delilah half-heartedly looked around and thankfully didn't catch anyone.
Finally, way past the time she should have already been asleep, she was able to go back to the common room. That night her brain refused to turn off. She kept wondering what would happen to Harry and his friends. Surely Dumbledore would think of some excuse, Harry was his favorite after all.
Sighing, she closed her eyes and willed sleep to take her. It usually didn’t, but who knew what could happen anymore.