"Did you see her face when Victor asked that question? She's really all talk and no action, just like the Ministry of Magic," Ron said, walking the corridor with Victor, Hermione, and Harry.
"Well, Ron, you seem to forget sometimes that your father works for the Ministry," Victor pointed out.
"Victor, can't you let me be happy for one moment?"
"I could, but I won't. You know me. I like reminding people of reality."
Hermione sighed. "Both of you, stop."
Harry laughed quietly, but her expression soon turned serious.
"This is a bigger issue. We can't ignore that Voldemort's trying to gather his forces again. We need to make the Ministry accept he's back."
"Until Fudge sees him with his own eyes, I don't think he'll believe us," Harry said. "He still thinks Voldemort's dead, and as long as he believes that, he'll keep treating Dumbledore as the problem."
Victor nodded. "Which means the Ministry's going to keep pretending everything's fine until it becomes impossible to hide."
Before Hermione could answer, a familiar sweet voice came from behind them.
"Miss Granger!"
They turned. Professor Umbridge stood at the end of the corridor in her pink cardigan and sugary smile.
"Come to my office. Now. I have something to discuss with you."
Hermione's expression hardened. "Me?"
"Yes, Miss Granger. You." Umbridge's smile widened slightly. "Come along."
Hermione gave Harry and Ron a quick look before following her down the corridor.
Harry watched her go, expression tightening. "I don't like this."
"Neither do I," Ron said. "Why does she need Hermione alone in her office?"
"Whatever she wants, it can't be good."
"You don't think she'll do something to her, do you?"
Harry shook his head, though he clearly wasn't convinced. "I don't know. But we should find out."
Before they could move, they noticed Victor walking the other way.
"Victor!" Harry called. "Where are you going?"
"Dormitory."
"You're just going to leave Hermione with Umbridge?"
Victor's expression shifted slightly. "I didn't say that."
He continued toward the Slytherin common room, leaving Harry and Ron staring after him.
"What was that supposed to mean?" Ron asked.
"I don't know," Harry said.
Victor reached his dormitory, closed the curtains around his bed, and lay down. He let his consciousness separate from his body, and his astral form rose silently from the mattress.
He had no intention of letting Hermione deal with Umbridge alone.
He knew what she was capable of — in the original course of events, she'd used Veritaserum on students to get information, and he had no doubt she'd cross whatever line she needed to now.
It wasn't only that Hermione was his girlfriend; she was one of the people most involved with the D.A., and Umbridge had every reason to suspect her.
He moved through the castle as an invisible presence, heading for Umbridge's office, and slipped through the closed door.
Hermione sat at a small table across from Umbridge, who had a file open in front of her, several sheets of parchment spread across the desk.
"Now, Miss Granger," Umbridge began, folding her hands. "I have to say, despite your Muggle background, you've performed remarkably well at Hogwarts. One of the brightest students in your year — and you've become rather close to Victor Malfoy."
Hermione stayed quiet.
"A rather unusual friendship, considering the difference in your backgrounds."
"I don't see what that has to do with anything."
"Oh, perhaps nothing at all." Umbridge picked up another parchment. "But I've recently noticed some rather suspicious movements of among certain students." She looked directly at Hermione. "Do you know anything about it?"
"No."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing."
"I see." Umbridge leaned forward, her smile thinning. "I find it rather difficult to believe you know nothing, Miss Granger. You spend a great deal of time with Harry Potter, and you're very close to Mr Malfoy. Surely you've heard something."
"I haven't."
"Perhaps you misunderstood the question."
"I didn't."
Umbridge's fingers tightened around her quill. "Then let me make it simpler. Have you heard anything about students gathering to do something they aren't supposed to?"
"No."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"Miss Granger, I would strongly advise you to reconsider your answer."
Hermione didn't move. "I have nothing to reconsider."
A sharp crack came from the other side of the room. Umbridge turned — a decorative plate on the wall had lifted into the air.
"What in Merlin—?"
The plate shot across the room and smashed against the wall. Before Umbridge could react, a slicing spell cut through the wooden cabinet beside her; the doors dropped to the floor, followed by books and ornaments.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Another slash cut through the curtains. Umbridge jumped out of her chair. "Stop!"
The chair rose several inches and tipped sideways, forcing her to scramble away.
"Professor Umbridge," Hermione said, trying hard not to smile, "perhaps you should leave."
Umbridge looked around the room in alarm. There was no one there. She grabbed her wand and pointed it at the doorway. "Who is doing this?"
Nothing answered. A second plate flew past her head and shattered against the wall.
That was enough. Umbridge hurried toward the door, nearly tripping over the wreckage of her own furniture. "I'm getting the Headmaster." She fled and slammed the door behind her.
Hermione sat at the table, staring at the wrecked room. "Ummm..." Her eyes narrowed. "Victor, that was you, wasn't it?"
No answer.
She glanced at the broken plate on the floor. No proof, but somehow she knew.
The pieces began to move — sliding across the floor, arranging themselves into a single word.
YES.
Hermione stared at it for several seconds, then covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
*****
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