Chapter 27: Boys Will Be BoysSummary:Hazel learns that "Professor" Umbridge is even worse in person than even she had feared.
Take heed that there is a great deal of institutional sexism in this chapter.
Notes:I'm posting early because A, this is a real banger of a chapter, and B, the response to the last chapter was lovely. You're all breathtaking.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextFor most of the school, Umbridge was an unknown quantity as of yet; no one knew if she would be strict, or lenient, or what. But as Hazel filed into her classroom, and saw her waiting for them at her desk in the same fluffy pink cardigan and ridiculous black bow, she got a sinking feeling that the class would be even worse than anyone could have imagined.
Umbridge stood there, smiling blandly at them until everyone was in their seats. "Well, good afternoon, class!" A few of them muttered 'good afternoon' back at her, and she only beamed wider. "Now now, that won't do at all. When I say, 'Good afternoon, class,' I expect all of you to respond, 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge!' Let's try it again: Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge."
"Oh, was that too difficult? I said, I expect all of you to respond. One more time: Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge!"
"There now, much better! Wands away, quills and textbooks out, please~"
There was a great deal of rustling and grumbling and gloomy looks exchanged as the students put their wands away and brought their books out, along with quill, ink and parchment. Umbridge beamed at them all and tapped the blackboard with her wand, which was unusually short and made of some reddish wood with a pink gem in the middle. Lavender Brown perked up at the sight. "That's a very pretty wand, Professor Umbridge, what's it made of?"
"Thank you, dear, but let's keep irrelevant discussion to a minimum, shall we? Now then, copy this down, class."
Defense Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
Course aims:
Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
While they copied the words, Professor Umbridge kept speaking: "Well now, your instruction so far in this crucial, mandatory subject has been quite fragmented, hasn't it? Why, you've had so many teachers, the position is rumored to be cursed!"
Ron put his hand up. "You mean it isn't cursed, Professor?"
"Of course not, Mr Weasley, and anyone who says otherwise is a vicious rumormonger! Hem, hem, now, where was I? Ah yes~" She gave a tinkling, girlish little giggle and went on. "Many of the so-called teachers hired by this school have not followed any sort of Ministry-approved curriculum. And with the exception of Professor Quirrell, none of them have even restricted themselves to age appropriate subjects or methods."
Hazel heard Ron mutter to Seamus about what a joke it was to hear Quirrell being praised, and she smirked to herself.
"You will be pleased to know, however, that from now on we will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic. Has everyone finished copying the lines off the blackboard?"
Most of the class said they had, except for Neville, who jerked and fumbled his quill. "Uh! N-No, Professor Umbridge, I-!"
"Do hurry, Mr Longbottom, we're waiting on you~" He gulped nervously and hurried to finish copying; from where she sat, Hazel thought his handwriting was shaky and indecipherable, and she wondered if Umbridge would give him remedial lines just to improve his penmanship. Quillmanship?
Finally he set his quill down and looked up. "I'm finished, Professor."
"Very good! Now that we're all caught up, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?" There was a discordant murmur of ascent, and she shook her head. "Don't make me repeat myself, class, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
A few of them replied, but the rest exchanged incredulous looks. Hazel was getting irritated, did Umbridge plan on treating them like toddlers the whole year?
The lack of enthusiasm caused the saccharine facade to slip, very slightly. "Class, when I ask a question, I expect all of you to answer, 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or, 'No, Professor Umbridge.' Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Professor Umbridge."
"Now, for the last time, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
"Yes, Professor Umbridge."
"Very good!" Umbridge clapped her hands, and the sickly sweet pre-school teacher was back. "Open your books to page 5 and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."
Hazel, who had already read the entire book and found it utter bollocks, nonetheless flipped it open to the page indicated and pretended to read. However, her attention soon wavered, and she found herself looking around; to her surprise she saw Hermione, hand in the air, book untouched, staring fixedly at Umbridge who was just as fixedly staring in the other direction.
As dull as the book was, it didn't take long for everyone else to notice Hermione acting so out of character, and when whispers started bouncing around Umbridge evidently realized she could no longer ignore the issue. "Hem, hem. Yes, Miss Granger? Did you have a question about the chapter?"
"Not about the chapter, no, I was-"
"Then whatever it is you have to say can wait until class is over. Back to your reading, class~"
But Hermione would not be so easily dissuaded. "I had a question about the course aims, Professor. The ones written on the board."
"What about them, dear? They're perfectly clear if you read them through carefully~"
"No, they're not. There's nothing up there about usingdefensive magic."
Hazel had to repress a giggle of relief that someone else had spoken up first. In the silence that followed, most of the class gave up on 'Basics for Beginners' and peered more closely at the writing on the board, muttering the words to themselves. Umbridge's toad-like smile stretched even wider. "Using defensive spells, Miss Granger? What possible need for using defensive spells could arise in my classroom? Surely the standards of safety aren't so low you expect to be attacked during class~"
Ron raised his hand. "We'd have to practice defensive spells on each other, right? That would count as-"
"Are you a Ministry-certified educational expert, Mr Weasley?"
"No, but-"
"Then refrain from commenting on how I conduct my classroom, Mr Weasley."
"But the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells, isn't it?"
Umbridge narrowed her eyes at Ron, who stood his ground and glared right back. "Put your hand down, Mr Weasley, and refrain from any further comments. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised this new curriculum, a secure and risk-free way of-"
Dean Thomas put his hand in the air. "What about outside this class, Professor Umbridge? It's not so risk free there, is it?"
"Who could possibly wish to attack students, Mr Thomas?"
"Peeves! And Slytherins! Rogue Bludgers!"
"Five points from Gryffindor for baseless slander, Mr Thomas. Peeves is a harmless poltergeist who's days are numbered, and as for being attacked outside class?" She paused and shook her head, giving everyone her best saccharine smile. "Perhaps safety standards have lapsed, if you all truly believe you may be attacked at any moment! But then, considering the dangerous half-breeds who have taught here before…"
"You don't mean Professor Lupin? He was one of the best professors we've ever had!"
"He was a werewolf and a dangerous being, Mr Thomas, now sit down and be quiet!" Umbridge took several deep breaths to get herself under control again, while the class muttered mutinously to each other. "Hem, hem. I see I have a great deal of conditioning to break through, what with dangerous professors fostering this unfounded belief in Dark wizards waiting around every corner."
Parvati's hand shot up. "Forget being attacked, what about our OWLs? There's a practical bit in them, isn't there?"
Umbridge shrugged, and her answer had a careless air to it. "The Ministry has concluded, after much research, that a solid theoretical knowledge of the necessary spells will be more than sufficient to get you through your examinations, Miss Patil. And isn't that what school is all about~?"
"But- Hang on, Professor, you truly expect us to be able to perform those spells for the first time during our exams?"
"Certainly, Miss Patil! As long as you study the theory hard enough there is no reason you can't pass your OWLs with flying colors!"
Hazel put her hand in the air and raised her voice to cut across the rest of the chatter. "What good is theory in the real world, Professor Umbridge? How are we supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?"
Everyone else fell silent, and Umbridge slowly turned to face her. "This is school, Miss Potter. And there's nothing waiting for you out in the real world."
"Respectfully, Professor, I disagree." Hazel stood up from her chair, Occlumency clamped down on her temper. "No one said anything about Dark wizards. But that's not all that's out there."
"What do you imagine would be in such a hurry to attack children, Miss Potter?"
"Thieves and rapists, for one thing. Boys, in other words. Along with werewolves and dragons and Dementors and God knows what other foul creatures!"
Umbridge glanced up at the scars on Hazel's face, at the burnt side of her head. "Ten points from Slytherin. Boys will be boys, Miss Potter, and it is your job as a girl to avoid presenting yourself as a target for their impulses. That means maintaining a professional, unprovocative appearance and a calm, demure attitude at all times, which you clearly seem to struggle with~"
In the stunned silence that followed, Hazel could quite literally vomit. Unprovocative appearance? Demure attitude? Umbridge smiled sweetly once more, as if she had said something perfectly normal. "Now, if we're quite finished questioning the Ministry's experts, I would like for all of you to calm down and go back to your reading~"
Slowly, Hazel returned to her seat, so overcome by revulsion at what Umbridge had said that she didn't dare open her mouth again. She clamped down with her Occlumency until she was under control again, and stayed that way for the remainder of class. Whatever the rest of the class did, whatever lies Umbridge filled their ears with, she was determined not to take part in it.
Eventually the bell rang and she sprang from her seat, fully intending to be the first out the door, but Umbridge's voice stopped her. "Miss Potter, remain behind, please. I wish to speak with you."
Her friends threw her concerned looks, but she remained frozen in place until the others were gone. Then she went to the front of the class. "Yes, Professor?"
Umbridge dug around in her desk for a few moments, and came up with a booklet. "Take this, dear. If you're so concerned about boys, you may find this useful~"
She looked down at the booklet. It was pastel pink, and had a caricature of a witch on the cover. Tips for Staying Safe in a Wizard's World, the title said. She looked up to find Umbridge smiling benevolently at her, but the smile did not reach her eyes. "There is particular advice about the appearance a young witch should present so as to avoid unwanted attention, Miss Potter. Next time I see you, I expect you will have taken this advice to heart, or there will be consequences. Do I make myself clear?"
She grit her teeth against another wave of revulsion. "Yes, Professor."
"Good. Off with you now~" Umbridge sat down, and Hazel spun on her heel to gather her things and get out of there, as fast as she could.
Draco, Ron and Hermione were waiting for her outside, and she felt incrementally better as they roundly tore into Umbridge for what she had said. Hermione was particularly incensed. "The nerve of that woman! 'Boys will be boys' indeed, things happen no matter how we're dressed!"
"Mother always warned me that excuse would never hold water, and Father said forcing myself on a girl was beneath the dignity of a Malfoy anyway."
"Yeah, Mum and Dad taught us better too."
Hazel scoffed. "My relatives didn't much care, but I'm pretty sure Dudley's a good sort. Anyway, dinner?"
Notes:I found a cool cursive font for the course notes bit, but it didn't come through. Oh well.
Chapter 28: Magic MirrorSummary:Lots to keep our heroine on her toes.
Chapter TextDinner was subdued, and Hazel felt a foreign sense of helplessness as she replayed Defense over and over in her mind. There was nothing she could have done better, she realized; Umbridge had been goading them to prove her authority, to get them to speak up and act out so she could punish them. It was lucky no one got detention.
That didn't stop her from eating her fill as usual, of course.
After dinner she made a decision: if this was how bad Umbridge was going to be, whatever plans they had to resist her had to be accelerated. She tapped Hermione on the shoulder on the way out. "You know that meeting we were planning? It needs to happen sooner. Start asking around for volunteers."
"Of course, I had planned on it anyway." They shared a look, then split off. Hazel headed to the dungeons, and Hermione went up to the towers.
Down in the common room, she grabbed a good seat and did her homework. Daphne was beside herself. "Can you believe that bitch? 'Boys will be boys!' I'll give her 'boys will be boys!'"
"It was disgusting, is what it was." Blaise looked grim, a marked shift from his usual cool expression. "We have to take things into our own hands."
"Ten sickles says Hazel's already got something planned."
"Gold star for you, Tracey. I'll tell you more when I'm done."
"No, tell us now! Homework will take forever!"
"Ugh, fine." She put her quill down and rubbed her eyes. "Umbridge is useless, she has no intention of teaching us anything so we'll have to teach ourselves. Especially since we're in OWL year, we can't afford to fall behind."
Draco nodded. "Not to mention just being ready for the real world. Like you said, Dark wizards aren't all we have to worry about."
"Exactly. But we can't only rely on our circle, we have to reach out to everyone."
Daphne nodded. "Other Slytherins will be tricky. Do we know if Umbridge is pureblood or not? If she isn't we can play that up, insinuate she has no business mandating our education the way she is."
"Yeah, and Ravenclaw should be easy. Hell, they're probably already on our side, after how apathetic Umbridge was about our OWLs." Blaise sounded smug, but he wasn't wrong.
Hazel narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "We'll leave the Gryffindors for last, they'll get worked up over how evil she is and blow the whole thing sky high. And we'll have to be careful about who we approach in Hufflepuff too, there's a lot of Ministry employees' kids in Hufflepuff and we can't predict which way their loyalties will go."
Tracey laughed. "Yeah, but they'll be easy too, just tell them what a sexist pig she is."
"Right. You guys can't say anything to anyone, got it? If Umbridge hears about my plans it'll be bad for everyone."
Blaise scoffed. "I think people are expecting you to do something anyway, Hazel, whether you do or not."
"I've already thought of that." Draco and Hermione were going to have to do most of the work here, she realized. If she got directly involved too early, things would escalate, and they didn't need that with a foe like Umbridge.
Surreptitiously she fingered her wand, and made eye contact with Draco. "I told Hermione already, but you two need to step it up. Umbridge is worse than we thought."He was startled by the sudden Legilimency, but nodded after a moment.
With all that taken care of, she focused on her homework again for the rest of the night.
Later that evening, when everyone was getting ready for bed, Hazel had to dig into her trunk for some clothes, and to her surprise found a small, crudely wrapped package tucked beneath a layer of books. Curious, she unwrapped it to discover a dirty old mirror, square-shaped and small, roughly the size of a lady's compact. A note attached to the back read:
I don't expect you'll find this right away, but it's a two-way mirror. Remus or I will have the other one on us at all times; say our names and we'll answer, whichever of us has it. You'll appear on this side and we can talk to each other; reach out to us when you find it, alright? James and I used them when we had separate detentions back in school!
-S.O.B.
"Cool." She put it down for now and kept going with her routine, told Pansy she wasn't in the mood to fool around, and got into bed with the curtains shut. She waited half an hour, then cast muffling charms and reached for the mirror, wiping the dirt off the surface with a scouring charm. "Sirius? Remus?"
The inside of the mirror flashed, and a few seconds later Remus' face appeared. "Hazel, I see you found the mirror. Let me get Sirius."
Moments after that her godfather poked his head into view, and he looked quite happy to be there. "Hey kiddo! Took ya long enough, eh?"
"Yeah well, it wasn't exactly in an obvious spot." But she grinned back at them. "There's a lot going on, you guys."
"Tell us all about it."
So she took a deep breath and told them about her first day, about Umbridge and the vile things she had said in class, and what she had planned to do about it. Neither man looked surprised when she was done. "I always knew that old bag was worse than anyone realized. It was her who drafted some anti-werewolf bills that made it hard for me to live on my own."
Sirius looked troubled, but he shrugged it off quickly. "So what are your plans for resisting? You mentioned you'd keep your study group going, but what else?"
"Well, I think Umbridge is going to focus on me, since I humiliated her boss and forced them to go all fascist and shit. So I'll let her focus on me, while Draco and Hermione rally some others when nobody's looking. We'll have to be careful who we invite, of course."
Remus frowned. "Be cautious around the children of Ministry employees. Their loyalties may lie with their family, and you can't blame them for that. Family has to come first, always."
Hazel rolled her eyes. "I know, Remus, I know. I bet this is just what the Ministry is afraid of, too. Us kids training up properly in real combative magic?"
Sirius laughed. "You're more right than you realize, Hazel. That's exactly what Fudge is afraid of, he doesn't want any of you being trained in combat. He still thinks Dumbledore is in charge, the fool."
"Well, McGonagall's in charge, but most of the new teachers aren't too keen to change things up. Except Professor Murk, I guess."
"Murk? Ismelda Murk?" Remus had a flabbergasted look on his face. "She's the new History of Magic teacher?"
Hazel was a little too eager with her follow-up questions. "Yeah, why? Do you know her?"
Sirius laughed again, at the flush on her face. "By reputation, yes. She's a real nutter, she is, obsessed with Dark wizards and old battles and 'the real history of the magical world'." He made air quotes with his fingers. "I bet people are paying attention in her class though, huh?"
"More than we ever did under Binns, that's for sure. Him fucking off was the best thing to ever happen to this castle, I swear."
Remus sighed at her language, but didn't say anything out loud. "Yes, well, she was also part of some little club when she was at Hogwarts: the Circle of Khanna, named after one of their friends who was killed. Who else has been hired?"
Friend who was killed? Hazel wanted to ask about that, but they didn't have time. "Penny Haywood, Barnaby Lee, and Talbott Winger. Burbage is Head of Gryffindor, Trelawney took over Ravenclaw, and Sinistra has Slytherin, also."
"Those three were also in the Circle, and so were Tonks and Charlie. With that lot lurking about, you lot are in good hands."
"That's good. You think Tonks could find the time to sneak up here? We're gonna need someone who can teach the upperclassmen who join us."
Remus shrugged. "Ask that Winger fellow, he was a hit wizard with DMLE. If anyone's good at Defense, it'd be him."
"I'll do that, I have Transfiguration tomorrow." She yawned and looked at her pillow. "I better sign off, I've got another long day ahead."
"Right. Take care, kiddo." The mirror went blank, and she put it in her nightstand and went to sleep quickly.
The next day was overcast and dreary, constantly threatening rain without ever quite giving any. The morning was quite frontloaded with Charms and Transfiguration in quick succession, and Flitwick lectured them on the importance of their OWLs from atop his pile of books. "You must remember, class, that these exams will influence your careers, your very lives, for decades to come! Yes, your careers! You may scoff, but now is the time to start thinking about your futures! And meanwhile, naturally, we shall be working harder than ever to secure those futures!"
There followed an in-depth review of Summoning Charms, and those who hadn't perfected it were assigned an excessive amount of reading and essays before next class. Hazel, thankfully, had mastered Summoning during her Triwizard preparations, and her charm was so successful Flitwick awarded her 20 points for Slytherin.
Transfiguration was much the same. The slim, hawk-like face of Professor Winger scrutinized them as they entered the room, and once everyone was seated he turned into a brown eagle. Everyone clapped as he became human again, though he only smirked slightly. "Settle down, class. I'm Talbott, Talbott Winger, but I have to ask you to address me as Professor Winger."
He paced back and forth as he spoke, and Hazel could tell he wasn't used to public speaking; he didn't have the presence McGonagall did, but he clearly knew the subject back to front. "Now, I'm sure you've gotten the OWL lecture in every other class, and this one is no exception. More than any other class, Transfiguration demands rigorous study and serious application, though based on McGonagall's class notes I see no reason why any of you should fail next year."
Some of the students made noises of disagreement, and Winger turned to look at them. "You disagree? You think you'll fail? You're setting yourselves up for failure with that attitude, and I won't have it. Now, chin up, and let's start on Vanishing Spells."
Vanishing Spells were quite tricky, and most of the class struggled with them. Hazel and Hermione, as usual, managed to vanish their snails within a few attempts, and Winger gave them each ten points for their success. Those who failed to completely vanish a snail by the end of the period were told to practice overnight and be ready for a fresh attempt the next class.
After class, Hazel lingered. "Professor Winger? You worked at the Ministry before, right?"
"Indeed I did, Miss Potter, as a hit wizard under Madam Bones. Why do you ask?"
Even though they were alone, she still moved closer and lowered her voice. "Did you ever interact with Professor Umbridge while you were there?"
He arched an eyebrow at her for a moment. "Not directly, no. But she made her influence known anyway. Why do you ask?"
This was delicate, and she suddenly realized she didn't know a thing about him. But she was already here, she had to see it through. "Well, she's not a very good teacher, and I was thinking, with OWLs coming up, we really need a thorough education in Defense, you know?"
His eyebrow arched up a little higher. "You decided she's a bad teacher after one day in her class?"
"Um, yes. It wasn't hard to decide. And we need a real teacher, too."
He shook his head. "I'd love to, if only so you wouldn't fail your exams, but I've got Transfiguration to worry about. But give me a week and I'll find some advanced textbooks you can use, alright?"
"Alright. Thank you, Professor Winger." She bowed, hiding her disappointment, and turned to leave.
Chapter 29: Decorum and ProprietySummary:Umbridge continues demonstrating her unfitness for office. Hazel continues to be underestimated.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextOn the way to Ancient Runes, Draco lowered his voice. "Is it just me or is there something different about the Gryffindors, lately?"
"You're right, they aren't as raucous as they usually are. Burbage must have a more hands-on management style."
Dean overhead them and scoffed. "You don't know the half of it, she had us all in the common room to give a speech about how she wouldn't put up with any more shenanigans, then she gave us prefects extra authority to punish rule-breaking. Fred and George tried their shit and she went full Drill Instructor on them, it was amazing!"
"What's a Drill Instructor?"
"It's a Muggle thing, Malfoy, Burbage was in the Royal Marines before."
Hazel had to laugh at the confused look on Draco's face.
In class, Professor Babbling took roll, then turned to face them. "Show of hands, how many of you have gotten at least two lectures on the importance of OWLs on your futures?" Every single student put a hand up, and she chuckled slightly. "Naturally. Well, we shall dispense with the semantics and get right to it! You have your new dictionaries? Good." A flick of her wand sent parchment worksheets and special green quills to each desk, and everyone got to work.
For Hazel it was a bit of a step backwards, since she had gotten a taste of practical Runes last year, but she bent her head and did it anyway. New runes were exciting, regardless.
Next was Muggle Studies, and she thought Burbage looked a bit more stern than usual but class proceeded like it always did. "Those of you who assumed my class was a soft option have by now been disabused of that notion, I trust?" There were murmurs of assent, and she nodded. "Very good. Muggle culture is more complex than some of you realized, indeed it is every bit as complex as Wizarding culture due to the ways they must exist without magic. And this year we will continue examining those ways, but first, a short quiz to make sure you haven't forgotten everything over a long and lazy summer."
Hazel thought her own summer had been short and uncomfortably busy, but she was certain she did well on the quiz anyway since the material was so fresh in her mind. Afterwards, the professor graded them on the spot. "Curious! The student who hadn't joined us last year got the best score on the quiz!"
"That's only because I did a lot of make-up work over the summer, Professor, so I didn't have time to forget it." She still grinned smugly at the neat black O at the top of the paper, though.
"Yes, well. Since we have a little time, we'll start on this year's big project: Muggle transportation!" Burbage flicked her wand and the blackboard expanded, filled with diagrams of buses, cars, trucks and motorcycles. Hazel paid particular attention to the information on bikes, given her interest in learning to ride later.
Hazel was quiet at dinner, preoccupied with planning for the night's patrol. It was her first night out as a prefect, and she was looking forward to it; she was plotting how to use the Marauder's Map and the Cloak of Invisibility to make her job easier. Not only could she watch the whole school at once and keep an eye on sensitive areas, she could also watch out for Umbridge and avoid her, as well as Filch.
Pansy nudged her. "What are you doing, Hazel? You're really quiet tonight."
Hazel smirked and slid her hand beneath the table. "Missing my fingers, are we?" Pansy went red and tried not to whimper too loudly, and she laughed. "If you must know, I'm planning my patrol tonight. I don't want to do more work than I have to, you know."
Draco nodded. "It's our first patrol, we should set a good example. And you probably want to be back in Pansy's bed sooner instead of later, I bet."
Pansy flinched at that. "Sh-Shut up!"
Daphne giggled. "She should come into my bed instead~"
"Yeah, maybe I will, Pansy seems a little reluctant. Ooh, or maybe I'll meet with Luna or Ginny tonight, too!"
Draco looked to the side and his eyes went wide. "Hand!" Hazel jerked her hand out of Pansy's knickers and back into view just in time.
"Hem, hem." It was Umbridge, creeping around as usual. "Miss Potter, why have you not adjusted your appearance yet? I believe I made it quite plain there would be consequences for not abiding by my instructions?"
She turned and stared woodenly at the prissy little woman. "I've been busy, Professor Umbridge. Twelve classes, you know, and prefect duties."
"Prefects are expected to balance their additional responsibilities on top of the normal duties imposed upon students. If you cannot maintain decorum, the staff may have to reevaluate your fitness as prefect~"
"Is this about my hair, Professor?"
Umbridge smiled benevolently, though it did not reach her eyes. "Why, Miss Potter, you were the one who insisted boys were a threat in our first class together, do you not remember? And I responded that a witch's appearance and attitude are as much to blame for unwelcome advances as anything else. This is about your own beliefs."
"That was just an example, Professor, I'm not actually afraid of boys."
"Nonetheless, as a prefect you are expected to uphold the decorum and propriety of Hogwarts at all times. I will not warn you again; if you are not in compliance by next Monday, I shall have to punish you."
She turned and left, leaving the Slytherins to their meal. Pansy was incredulous. "What's she on about, decorum and propriety? Students are out of uniform all the time and no one ever says anything, unless they're in class."
"Whatever her idea of decorum and propriety is, I'll have no part of it. Besides, there's nothing I can do about my hair, it was burnt off by dragonfire and takes whole bottles of Sleekeazy's before I can tame it."
Blaise hummed thoughtfully. "You can't even cut it either, can you? It just grows right back."
"Pretty much, yeah. Even if I cut it with magic it grows back."
Draco scowled. "Count on her to know some kind of dark magic that could cut hair permanently."
That was a thought Hazel could have done without, and it lingered at the front of her mind for the rest of dinner. Luckily she shook it off by the time they were done, and went on out the door into the dungeons. She saw Ginny and went to catch up with her. "Hey, if you see Luna, tell her to meet me at the Room of Requirement around midnight. You be there too."
"Ooh, both of us? Yes, miss~" Ginny giggled and went on her way, and Hazel kept going downstairs. She did her homework until it was time to hit the halls, gave Pansy and Daphne both a good hard snog for good luck, and grabbed the Map and Cloak on her way out.
Tonight she patrolled in the lower floors, close to the dungeons. She kept the Cloak out of sight and regularly checked the Map as she strolled about, mentally counting down to midnight. At one point she saw some younger Hufflepuffs sneaking out of their common room, and went to head them off.
She rounded the corner and nearly bowled them over. "Oi lads, up late are we?"
The boy in front was caught off guard. "Uh, n-no? We're allowed out later than normal."
"Sure, in third year. You're all firsties and second-years."
A boy in the back pushed his way forward. "Look, it's an emergency! Bivvins has diabetes, right, and he needs some juice quick!"
"Come on, you can dock points if you have to but let us get to the kitchens?"
Hazel rolled her eyes. "If it's an emergency, why didn't you get one of your prefects to escort Bivvins, rather than all of you piling out at once?"
"Uh, well…"
"That's what I thought." She turned away and peeked at the Map; Hannah Abbott was coming their way now. "Now sit tight and we'll let Hannah sort you lot out."
Seconds later, Hannah came around the corner as well. "Ah ha, I thought I heard someone leaving! What do you have to say for yourselves?"
The boys shuffled and muttered, and she scoffed. "Hazel, what were they doing out here?"
"Trying to sneak into the kitchens, gave me some sob story about Bivvins having diabetes or whatever."
Bivvins looked up. "It's true though! I really do have diabetes!"
"Then you should've come to me alone instead of dragging your mates into trouble, young man." Hannah looked stern. "Back to the common room, all of you. I'll send for some pumpkin juice."
"Um, could you send apple juice instead? The pumpkin juice is…"
"You'll get what the kitchen gives you. Now, back to the common room!"
Groaning and muttering mutinously, the boys shuffled back to their common room. Hannah glared after them, then gave Hazel a smile. "Sorry about that, I'd have spotted them faster but I fell asleep by the fire."
"Oh, no problem." Hazel smiled back. "You're off-duty at midnight, right? Wanna meet me and some friends upstairs later?"
Hannah giggled. "Hazel Potter, are you propositioning me?"
"Maybe. If I was, would you say yes?" She stepped forward and put a hand on Hannah's wrist, giving her best smirk.
Hannah giggled again and leaned forward to peck Hazel on the cheek. "I'll think about it. Stay safe tonight."
Hazel watched her leave, then went back to her duties, though she was distracted by the thought of Hannah sashaying back to her common room, and the thought of Luna and Ginny waiting upstairs for her.
Speaking of, were they okay? She checked the Map and saw them in their respective common rooms, probably doing homework or chatting with their friends. That was a relief. She went back to her job.
Later on, around 11:30, Draco came up to her. "I'm not on until midnight, but I'm bored so I figured I'd take over early."
"Fair enough, I'll head upstairs to clean off in the prefects' bathroom." They nodded to each other and Hazel went upstairs, checking the Map to make sure she avoided Umbridge and Filch. She wondered if Draco really felt like starting early, or if he was wingmanning for her in his own way. Whatever.
The prefects' bathroom was on the fifth floor, four doors left from the statue of Boris the Bewildered. Why it was up here, and why there was only one, was beyond her; wouldn't it be easier to have a second prefects' bathroom downstairs, closer to the Slytherin and Hufflepuff common rooms? Again, whatever; Hogwarts didn't have to make sense. She stood before the door and said the password: "Rainbow Cascade."
The door opened and she walked inside. "Holy shit, this place is amazing!" It was worth being prefect just to use this bathroom! A bath like a swimming pool, at least a hundred taps, shelves full of shampoos and soaps and all manner of bath things. There were even shower stalls! Not to mention a stained-glass window depicting a naked mermaid sunning herself on some rocks; she was hardly an accurate depiction of real merpeople, but Hazel didn't mind.
The temptation to run a bath and go swimming was powerful, but she had a deadline, so she settled for a shower and some cleansing and scouring charms on her hair and robes, and after letting a vent blow her dry she slipped back out into the halls and-
"Hem, hem."
It took all of Hazel's willpower not to whip her wand out and curse Umbridge on the spot. The pink hag smirked at her discomfort. "Rather jumpy tonight, are we, Miss Potter~?"
Hazel glowered at the shorter woman. "I don't appreciate being snuck up on, Professor."
Umbridge smiled, though it did not reach her eyes. "You're rather far from your assigned halls, Miss Potter. I suggest you head back downstairs for the remainder of your patrol."
"My patrol is over so I decided to shower in the prefects' bathroom before bed, Professor."
Those cold, bulging eyes trailed up, taking in her scarred appearance. "Why haven't you corrected your appearance yet, Miss Potter? I have reprimanded you at least twice on this issue."
"My hair grows back, Professor, no matter how I cut or style it. And it was dragon's fire that burnt the side of my head; nothing can grow there any longer." She spoke tersely, not bothering to hide her frustration and anger.
"Then I must conclude you were lying when you implied you were afraid of male attention, Potter. I will not abide lies; you will come to my office tomorrow night for detention."
"Sure, Professor, whatever you say, can I go now?"
Her nostrils flared, and for a moment Hazel anticipated some display of anger that she could interpret as aggression. But then she got a grip on herself. "You are a very willful child, Miss Potter, I see I must take a firmer hand with you going forward. Return to your common room immediately."
Hazel spun away without another word, marching off toward the stairs headed down. But the second she was out of sight she ducked into an alcove, threw the Cloak over herself, and brought out the map: Ginny, Luna and Hannah were waiting for her upstairs! She let Umbridge move on, then slipped out herself, heading up to the Room of Requirement and pulling the Cloak off. "Hey girls."
"Hazel~!" Ginny and Luna pressed in and kissed her; Hannah hung back a bit, until Hazel waved her forward, and they all embraced for a moment. Hazel checked the map one more time for stray teachers, then summoned the Room for tonight's activities.
Ginny was quick to lead Hannah inside. "You're in for it tonight, Abbott, Hazel's gonna blow your mind in ways you couldn't even dream of!"
"Don't get her hopes up, Gin, I had a run-in with Umbridge so I might be off my game tonight." She closed and locked the door, and turned to examine the candle-lit bedroom the Room had become.
Luna giggled and started slipping out of her robes. "But you're always so much fiercer when you're frustrated, Hazel."
"Am I? Well, fine, I guess Hannah's gonna find out~"
Notes:Those of you cheering for a quick end to the hag, you'll be disappointed. Hazel would like nothing more than to AK the Umbitch, but that would cause more problems than it would solve. She has to be discredited first, then we can dispose of her!
Chapter 30: Must Not Tell LiesSummary:I must not tell lies, I must not tell lies, I must not tell lies...
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextAt breakfast, Hazel was feeling much better, with her thoughts still lingering on last night. Hannah had been quite impressed by her inter-House foursome. The best part was that the Room gave them each a passage back to their common rooms; she wondered how it would look on the Map, if it would come up on the Map at all. Her thoughts stilled when she saw Professor Sinistra approaching with a disapproving frown. "What did you do to get yourself detention with Professor Umbridge, Miss Potter?"
Hazel rolled her eyes. "Nothing, Professor, seriously. She says I lied to her during the first class when I was listing off threats to our safety, when she was the one who escalated it in the first place, gave me this stupid pamphlet thing and started hounding me about being butch."
Sinistra tilted her head to one side. "Butch?"
She waved at her scars, at her unconventional appearance. "Butch, you know. Not traditionally girly and demure or whatever the fuck."
"Five points from Slytherin." The admonishment felt rote, automatic, and Hazel absolutely didn't give a damn. "Do try not to martyr yourself any harder, Miss Potter, I want my snakes to keep up their winning streak."
"Yes, Professor." She went back to breakfast, plotting out her day, the thought of detention a distant niggle in the back of her mind. In her mind it was worth it though; as long as Umbridge was focused on her, Draco and Hermione could handle upgrading their study group behind the scenes.
They all went down to Care of Magical Creatures, where Charlie waited for them. The new gamekeeper, Barnaby Lee, stood next to him; he was even larger up close, not as big as Hagrid but built in the same vein, and he had a wide-eyed, disarming air about him. "Hi everyone! I'm Barnaby, but you have to call me Mr Lee 'cause the Head-"
Charlie elbowed him in the thigh. "Put a sock in it, Barns, we got class." He waved everyone over to a long wooden trestle table, covered in what looked like little twigs. "Any guesses?"
Hazel put her hand in the air, and he nodded to her. "Sir, are they bowtruckles?"
"Sure enough, five points for Slytherin." He reached into a large sack for a handful of what appeared to be large grains of brown rice; the twigs came to life when he tossed the rice onto the table. "Tree guardians, usually find 'em in wand trees. Anyone know what they eat?"
This time, Hermione put her hand up. "Woodlice, or faerie eggs if they can get them!"
"Five points for Gryffindor." Charlie stood back while the bowtruckles ate the lice. "Always a good idea to have a few handfuls of woodlice handy when you're out foraging for leaves or wood, 'cause you don't wanna get their fingers in your eyes. See how sharp they are?"
Hazel peered more closely, and sure enough, one of the critters was spearing woodlice with its long, thin claws. "Can they be trained, sir?"
Charlie nodded. "Sure, treat it nice and you'll earn its loyalty easy enough. Squibs like 'em 'cause they'll pick locks without needing a wand."
Now that was interesting, both from her perspective as a prefect and her need to avoid trouble with Umbridge. "Do they have to be specially trained for that?"
Charlie gave her a sideways glance, and pointedly didn't answer the question. Instead he cleared his throat and moved on. "Anyway! Grab a bowtruckle and some lice, I got one for every three of you, and try to sketch your bowtruckle for the rest of class. Study 'em close, 'cause I want all its bits clearly labeled!"
Ron snickered. "All its bits, bro?"
"Don't be crass, Ronald. And that's Professor to you!"
The class laughed and surrounded the trestle table, and Hazel was quick to nab the largest one for her group. Draco got a handful of lice and Hermione had her book out, and they sat down to feed and sketch the thing.
"So, how's the recruitment effort going?"
Hermione nodded. "I've spoken to most of the other prefects, and they agree we need to do something. Davies and Stimpson are with us too."
"I already had a word with Hannah myself." Hazel looked away, hoping she wasn't blushing too hard.
Draco nudged her with his elbow. "We know, it's all she can talk about. But we can't only have your girlfriends in our study group, you know."
"Why not? They're badass."
Hermione frowned. "Badass or not, we need more than just girls; everyone deserves a real education in Defense, and if that pink hag won't do it, we have to step up ourselves. Fred and George are willing to help, and as seventh-years, they'll be good at it too."
"Yeah, we need as many upper-year students as we can get. We might be pretty good, but they're bound to know stuff we can't imagine, and I'll be busy with other shit too. Like keeping Umbridge busy so you lot can study under her nose."
The bowtruckle, happily eating woodlice, chittered and climbed up Draco's sleeve, apparently thinking he had more lice in his pocket. Draco laughed and went to get another handful, and they finished sketching the little critter.
After Herbology she ate dinner, and went to Umbridge's office. She knocked politely and waited. "Come in."
She walked into the room, trying not to wince at the overly girly decorations: elaborate vases holding dried flowers, lacy cloths on every surface, a whole wall of ornamental plates painted with large technicolor kittens that gamboled silently about. "I'm here for my detention, Professor."
"Of course you are. Sit down, Miss Potter." Umbridge herself, wearing robes that blended in rather well with the tablecloth, had her usual smug smile stretching out her wide, pouchy face.
Hazel sat down without a word, wondering what the night would bring her.
"Tonight you are going to write lines." Umbridge placed a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point on the desk. "You will write, I must not tell lies."
"How many times, Professor?"
Umbridge shrugged. "Oh, until the message sinks in. Get a move on, my dear~"
It was amazing how those two words sounded condescending and trite when spoken by Umbridge, but dignified when coming from someone like Dumbledore. Hazel went to pick up the quill, but yelped and dropped it when her ring squeezed her finger.
"What is it, Potter?"
"M-My ring won't let me pick up the quill, Professor." She held up her hand and revealed the Black Heir ring she wore. "Is it cursed?"
Frowning, Umbridge leaned down to scrutinize Hazel's ring. "Black Heir…"
"Yes, Professor. Sirius Black is my godfather, you know."
"I am well aware, Potter." She sounded irritated now, and her smile wasn't nearly as smug as before. "Please remove the ring and get on with your punishment."
"Is the quill cursed?" Hazel hated repeating herself, and it showed in her voice. "Do I have to use my own ink?"
Umbridge hesitated, torn between a desire to harm Hazel and the need to be mindful of who she insulted on behalf of her boss. Or so Hazel assumed, anyway; she didn't feel like using Legilimency to make sure. "It… won't leave any lasting marks, not after a single night. And you won't need ink. As I said, remove your ring and proceed with the detention."
Feeling a nasty sort of congealing in her stomach, Hazel slid her ring off her finger and gripped the quill again. She wrote the words, I must not tell lies, on the parchment, and they appeared in bright, glistening red; no sooner did she lift the quill after the last word but the back of her hand seared sharply, the words appearing in her skin. Even as she watched, the wounds healed over, leaving the skin slightly redder but quite smooth.
Umbridge must have noticed she had paused, because she was looming over her again. "Is there a problem, Miss Potter?"
"No, I was… I was admiring your quill, is all. Your own invention, I assume?"
The woman's face stretched out in that repulsive toad-like grin of hers. "Very clever, my dear. Yes, I created it myself when it came to my attention that suitable implements of reinforcement did not already exist. Obviously such relics should only be handled by properly authorized Ministry personnel~"
"Obviously." It used blood magic, she was fairly sure. Perhaps a healing charm and a blood replenishing charm as well; it wouldn't do for the victim to faint from blood loss before they had permanently scarred themselves, after all.
She went back to writing lines, determined not to show any more weakness. Painful as it was, it was still localized to her hand, and it was easily blocked out with Occlumency. She lost track of time as she covered more and more of the parchment with the same five words, over and over again. While writing she plotted darker and darker ways of getting revenge on Umbridge for this slight: stabbing her in the eye with this quill, perhaps, or luring her to the Chamber of Secrets and feeding her to Regina.
Yes, she liked that idea. But to do so she had to discredit Umbridge, otherwise the fallout from assassinating a high-profile Ministry official and feeding her to the darkest of creatures would be swift and merciless. She couldn't just settle for smearing her name around Hogwarts, she had to reach the Ministry itself, effect change at the highest levels. Maybe even get Fudge removed. And that meant getting allies outside the castle.
Hours later, Umbridge put her own quill aside. "Hem, hem."
Hazel finished the line she was on and looked up. "Professor?"
"Let me see your hand, Potter." Obediently she held her hand out, repressing a shudder of revulsion at the touch of her stubby fingers and the ugly old rings she was wearing. "Hm, the message hasn't quite sunk in yet." She looked up, her slack face forming a smug smirk. "Perhaps tomorrow morning for a second session? 10am?"
A second detention already, and right when Quidditch tryouts were scheduled? Hazel fought not to roll her eyes as she tugged her hand free. "I haven't done anything to warrant a second detention, Professor."
"Hmph." Umbridge straightened with a frown, obviously having hoped she'd try and rely on her Quidditch schedule to get out of it. "Be off with you, Potter, and know I've got my eye on you."
Despite the dismissal, Hazel lingered. "What's gonna happen to the parchment, Professor?" She knew better than most that blood could be misused.
Umbridge blinked innocently. "Why, it shall be thrown away, Miss Potter, like all used parchment. What ever are you worried about?"
"My blood has been used against me before, Professor. I want that parchment burned. Immediately."
Something shifted in the hag's gaze, and Hazel knew she had been on the right track. But Umbridge had no grounds to refuse, and after a moment she flicked her wand; the bloodstained parchment immediately went up in flames. "Satisfied, Miss Potter?"
Hazel flicked her own wand and gathered the ashes in her palm, every one of them. "For now. Thank you for understanding my caution, Professor." She wasted no further time leaving the room and heading downstairs to the common room. It was just past ten; she could do homework until midnight and be up in time for breakfast and getting the pitch ready for tryouts. Her hand felt a little raw, but she could still write with it, and there were no scars left over for people to gawk about. As if she had enough scars, anyway.
Pansy stood up as she walked into the common room. "What did that hag do to you?"
"Made me write lines." Hazel leaned into Pansy's hug for a moment, enjoying the warmth of their closeness. "I despise her."
Draco scoffed. "You and everyone else. I've already written to Mother, asking her to use her influence around the Ministry. Things are going to hell over there."
"Too bad the papers can't report on it, things might collapse a lot faster." The Wizengamot were still trying to muster the votes to override the press blackout, and she wondered what was taking them so long. They had all been there, at that stupid hearing. Maybe rumors of some of her indiscretions since then had gotten around?
"So, is everyone ready for tryouts in the morning?"
Draco and Blaise nodded. "Quite a few second-year kids interested in it too, we'll have our work cut out for us. Puglia and Bletchley are still down as well, though Bole and Flint are gone of course."
"So we'll need a Keeper and a new Beater." Hazel finished an essay while thinking it through. "What about Derrick? He was reserve Beater in our third year."
Blaise shook his head. "He's stepping back to make time for NEWTs."
"Damn it. I was hoping for more continuity on the main squad after last year." She sighed and put her assignments aside for now. "Well, we'll just have to hope the new fish are trainable. Flint's left us quite the legacy, and I'm determined not to let him down. Or Sinistra, or Snape!"
"Hear, hear!" Her team cheered at that, and on that note she decided to call it a night. She had a long day ahead of her in the morning.
Up in the dorms she did her nightly workout routine, then took a quick shower. She came back out and eyed her dormmates. "So, who's gonna share my bed with me tonight?"
Millicent and Pansy both scoffed, but Daphne seemed interested. "Should I bother with my pajamas~?"
Hazel shrugged. "If you'd rather get back to your own bed afterward, sure."
Notes:Sorry for the delay. Was very lazy this weekend.
Chapter 31: TryoutsSummary:Newly minted Quidditch Captain Hazel Potter reporting for duty~
Chapter TextIn the morning, Hazel woke up to find Daphne still curled up next to her. She giggled and kissed her cheek. "Rise and shine, princess."
Daphne groaned and tried to cling to her harder and burrow beneath the blankets all at the same time. "Go to hell, wanna sleep… Saturday…"
"Yes, and I've got Quidditch tryouts to lead, now get off."
She grumbled some more but relinquished her hold, and Hazel gave her another kiss before climbing out of bed and getting ready for the day. Tryouts weren't until ten, but she wanted to get down to the pitch early to set things up.
She did her best to eat heartily but quickly, avoiding the usual additions of hot sauce in favor of protein and carbs and strong coffee. She filled an enchanted thermos with more coffee for later, and got up to head for the pitch. "Remember everyone! 10am tryouts!"
In the entrance hall, however, she saw Mr Filch up on a rickety ladder, nailing some sort of proclamation to the wall. Frowning, she adjusted her glasses and moved closer.
By Order of
The Minister of Magic
Effective immediately, all personally-owned brooms and other Quidditch gear shall be
banned from use in all school-sanctioned sporting events.
Players shall make use of school-provided brooms and gear,
to ensure a fair and equitable field of play.
Players found in violation of this Decree shall be sanctioned accordingly.
The above is in accordance with
Educational Decree Number Twenty-three.
"Sanctioned accordingly?" Hazel shook her head. "Awfully vague, if you ask me." It would affect the Slytherin team the most, they all had Nimbus 2001s as a result of Malfoy generosity, and she herself had a Firebolt.
She'd have to arrange for an anonymous donation, she figured, and wondered if she could leverage her controlling stake in Ellerby & Spudmore to accomplish this. Brand new brooms would doubtless be much safer than the broken-down old things the school still relied on, wouldn't they?
That was a scheme for Future Hazel to obsess over; Present Hazel was a newly minted Quidditch Captain and she had tryouts to oversee!
To her surprise, Madam Hooch was already on hand, doing some last-minute maintenance to the worn-out, school-provided brooms and gear. To her dismay, Professor Umbridge was also on hand, acting important and scrutinizing everyone for any sign of the latest Decree being flaunted. Luckily no one had been dumb enough, or unaware enough, to bring their own things to practice.
Hazel joined Madam Hooch in caring for the school brooms. "We can't play Quidditch on these brooms. Hell, we can barely practice flying on them." She kept her voice low, naturally, mindful of the prowling pink ogre.
Madam Hooch snorted. "Don't I know it. What they were thinking, enforcing such a rule! The first match of the year will be a disaster, Potter, you mark my words."
"We can't allow that." She had already suspected as much, and Hooch just confirmed it.
"Hem, hem. What are we whispering about here~?"
Hazel turned and faced Umbridge, who had slunk her way towards them. "We were discussing the appalling state of the school brooms, Professor Umbridge."
"Oh, I see." That toad-like mouth stretched out into a smug smile. "Well, if they're really so appalling, perhaps we should postpone today's tryouts? We wouldn't want our students to be injured as a result of sub-par equipment~"
Hooch scoffed. "Potter is exaggerating, these brooms will do fine for tryouts. But I wouldn't care to run a full game with them."
Umbridge's smile vanished, and her eyes narrowed. "Misleading a Ministry official is a serious offense, Potter."
Hazel looked as innocent as she could. "Ministry official? Aren't you just our Professor, Professor Umbridge?"
For a second, Umbridge looked furious, but she controlled herself quickly. "Hem, hem. I will see you tonight in my office for another detention, Miss Potter. Don't be late." After that she stalked off before Hooch could protest, leaving Hazel standing there with her.
Hooch frowned. "Rather a thin excuse to assign detention, if you ask me."
"Christ, I hate her detentions." She went back to caring for the brooms. "Madam Hooch, suppose someone wanted to rectify the appalling state of the school's Quidditch gear."
Hooch pursed her lips thoughtfully. "They'd have to get approval from the Headmistress, of course. School rules don't allow anonymous donations either, for tax purposes or some such; Minerva could explain it better."
"Then I'll have to see her after tryouts." They finished going over the brooms, and Hazel grabbed the best one as the others were starting to show up. Enough of the old squad was left that she felt confident the new fish could coalesce around a solid backbone, and there were enough prospective players here that she was sure she could get a decent reserve squad built up as well. "You're not gonna get all huffy if I swear at them, are you?"
Hooch waved a dismissive hand. "It wouldn't help if I did, would it? Just don't go overboard on the new recruits so early on."
"Naturally." She grabbed a whistle and blew on it sharply, getting everyone's attention. "Listen up, fuckheads! I'm Hazel Potter, and I'm your Captain for the year. I'm not gonna go easy on you, so if you came out here expecting an easy ride, bugger off back to the castle! Go on, we'll wait!"
No one left, though a few muttered to each other. After about twenty seconds, Hazel nodded. "Beautiful, fucking beautiful! Let's get started, seven of you grab a broom and make a few laps around the stadium!" Warming up was essential, and she wanted to weed out those who had a modicum of talent from those who couldn't even stay on their brooms. And she was glad she had; roughly twenty of them could barely stay upright, and she was certain a few firsties had gotten caught up as well.
"Bring it in! How many of you are still in first year?" A dozen sheepish hands were raised, and she was sure she saw a few more poking out from behind older, larger students. "You know you can't play on the team, right? You can practice with us, sure, but you can't play until your second year!"
A fierce-eyed firstie put her hand up again. "But they let you play in your first year, right, Hazel?"
Hazel rolled her eyes. "That was under a goddamn fishy set of circumstances that we've gone out of our way to prevent from happening again. Solid reserves, and lots of cross training! You won't get to play in one fucking position, I'll expect everyone to know two or even three positions, and a solid array of tactics and maneuvers to back up each one!"
From there she had the remaining students run various drills and exercises, leading up to the actual tryouts for each position. The old crew made it without any issues, and they had a respectable slate of reserves as well. To her surprise, the fierce-eyed firstie managed to keep up with the best of them, though it was obvious she sought Hazel's approval in particular.
Draco laughed quietly at the sight. "I think you've got a new admirer."
"Shut up, Draco." Hazel waved at the fierce-eyed girl, who waved back and grinned. "I recognize her now, that's Blaise's little sister Aria, right? Blaise did say she had a crush on me."
Come to think of it, there were rather a lot of girls trying out this time. Did they all think they had a shot with her? No, she had to draw the line at third year; anyone younger was off limits.
Once the main squad and the reserves were winnowed down, she blew the whistle again. "Right then, lads and lassies. Main squad's gonna be me, Malfoy, Zabini the Elder, Bulstrode, Montague, Bletchley and Puglia. Reserves are the rest of you. We don't have brooms for everyone, so for now I want the main squad to run drills until lunch. The rest of you, practice at the far end with whatever's left."
It wasn't a popular plan, judging by the muttering and discontent. "These brooms are awful."
"I know, kid, I know. This new Decree has everything fucked up. Bear with it for now, I'm working on fixing things." From there the team did as she ordered, and she alternated between running drills with the squad and hovering overhead to keep an eye on everyone. Some of those girls really were fit as hell.
She cut herself off before she could start daydreaming about thighs and abs though, and focused on the practice. When lunch was close she blew her whistle and called everyone in. "Good job, all of you! Practice is gonna be Tuesdays after dinner, and Saturdays after lunch, though I might step it up before matches."
Draco laughed. "She learned from Marcus Flint, and he was a real slavedriver, so you're all in for a real treat before games."
"Don't scare 'em off, Draco, the season hasn't even started yet." She rolled her eyes. "But yeah, I'm not gonna go easy on any of you! For now though, fuck off and get lunch!"
The team cheered and trooped off for the changing rooms, and Hazel waved her wand to gather the four balls back into their case. She also made sure all their brooms were accounted for before heading off to get changed herself.
She had a quick lunch and went straight upstairs, hoping to meet with the Headmistress before-
"Hem, hem."
-before she ran into Umbridge. Fuck. She turned and fixed the shorter woman with her best deadpan stare. "Yes, Professor?"
Unintimidated, Umbridge simpered up at her. "What brings you so far from your common room, Miss Potter? Slytherins belong in the dungeons."
Hazel huffed a sigh. "It's a Saturday, I can be anywhere I like. Besides, I have business with the Headmistress. Prefect business."
Umbridge narrowed her eyes, recognizing a dismissal when she saw one. "State your business with the Headmistress, Potter."
"As I'm sure you're aware, the Prefects are responsible for the safety and well-being of all the students, not just the ones in our house. And the recent Educational Decree puts everyone at risk by forcing us to use dangerously sub-par Quidditch gear."
The pink hag frowned. "This is hardly something to escalate to the Headmistress. Return to your common room until it is time for your detention, Potter. Unless you wish to begin early~?"
Before Hazel could retort, sharp footsteps were heard approaching them. It was the Headmistress, and she seemed displeased. "What on earth is going on here?"
"I had to speak to you, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Umbridge was challenging me."
McGonagall turned to stare down at Umbridge. "Prefects have access to my office at all times for any reason, Professor. Was there something else you wished to reprimand Potter for?"
"No, I suppose not." That simpering attitude was back, as it always was when faced with a higher authority. "I was merely concerned with why a Slytherin student would be so far from her common room~"
"Quite." Turning her back on Umbridge, McGonagall swept ahead, chivvying Hazel ahead of her. "Did you have some business with me, Potter?"
"I did, Professor, honest."
"To my office then." She led the way to the gargoyle and gave the password: "Lionheart." The statue leapt aside and the revolving stone staircase animated itself; the two witches went upstairs and stepped into the office.
The fiddly silver instruments were still present, and Hazel recognized the shallow stone bowl of the Pensieve among them. However, the bookshelves were neatly organized and the room felt cleaner, airier somehow, with a few subtle displays of vintage Quidditch gear reflecting McGonagall's passion for the sport. "Biscuit, Potter?"
"Thank you." She accepted a biscuit and gathered her thoughts. "I'm here about the new Educational Decree. Slytherin had tryouts this morning, and the school brooms are in terrible shape; Hooch and I both agree that they aren't safe for the rigors of a full Quidditch game."
"I knew they were bad, but not this bad." McGonagall was clearly troubled. "What do you propose? You must be aware that donations to the school cannot be made anonymously; for tax purposes and as a matter of public record, every step of the donation process must be transparent and accountable."
"I'm aware of that, Headmistress. However, I happen to own a controlling stake in Ellerby & Spudmore, the company responsible for manufacturing Firebolts. I could work through my godfather to arrange for a donation of brooms and gear to the school. Firebolts for everyone!"
"Fascinating." The troubled look lifted from McGonagall's expression. "If Sirius got Lady Malfoy and other wealthy alumni of the school involved, it would dilute suspicion even further, and the letter of the Ministry's rulings would be upheld while everyone would have brand new equipment."
Hazel smiled. "Exactly! I wouldn't put it past Umbridge to try and brush this under the rug, then use accidents on the pitch arising from shoddy brooms as an excuse to have Quidditch canceled altogether. So we should move quickly!"
The merest notion of canceling Quidditch was enough to bring that frown back. "Cancel Quidditch again, the very idea. No, young Potter, your proposal has my full endorsement, and I shall prosecute its approval to the utmost of my abilities before the Board of Governors."
"Thank you, Professor." Hazel finished her biscuit, stood and bowed. "I'll get in touch with Sirius right away, before my detention tonight."
"Oh, you have some means of contacting him?"
Hazel swore to herself for letting that slip. "Yeah, he gave me this little mirror that we can use to communicate with each other. I have one, he or Remus will have the other."
"Ah, I see." McGonagall nodded. "Doubtless these are the same mirrors Sirius and your father used in school. I'm pleased they are being put to a more noble purpose these days."
"Yes, Professor." She bowed again, and turned to leave the office. That had gone very well, now she had to get Sirius on board!
Chapter 32: SchemingSummary:Hazel endures, and Hazel schemes.
Chapter TextShe took a few shortcuts to get downstairs to the dungeons without running into anyone, and made it safely to her dorm where she pulled out the mirror. "Sirius? Remus?"
A few moments later, Remus' face appeared. "What's wrong, Hazel?"
"Ah, I need to speak to Sirius, it's urgent."
"Righto, one sec."
Seconds later, Sirius appeared. "Hey, kiddo."
"Sirius! The Minister issued a new Educational Decree restricting Quidditch at Hogwarts to the school-provided brooms and gear. Students can't use their own stuff anymore!"
"You're kidding me." He scowled darkly. "Under the guise of fair play, right? They're probably still using the same brooms we had in our day, they won't last a minute in a real game."
"Exactly, I think Umbridge wants to orchestrate an accident on the field so she can cancel Quidditch altogether, by saying the school shouldn't sponsor sports at all if it can't afford proper equipment."
He shook his head. "That sounds just like her. She was terrible on a broom, so of course she'd want to take it away from everyone else."
"Right, but I've got a plan. Anonymous donations aren't allowed, so if you and Narcissa and some other wealthy alumni of Hogwarts pooled your money to buy brooms and shit from Ellerby & Spudmore, you could all donate it to the school and we'd all have top-of-the-line brooms to practice and play on!"
Sirius looked impressed. "Not a half bad idea. You want me to write to E&S on your behalf while rounding up the bougies?"
"That's exactly what I want! Do it quickly too, I want this sorted before the season starts and shit goes bad."
He smiled proudly at her through the mirror. "You got it, kiddo. What ya gonna do now?"
The question brought a scoff. "I've got detention with the Umbitch tonight, she keeps fishing for shit to pin on me; last time it was when I supposedly said I was afraid of boys, this time she says I exaggerated the state of the school brooms."
"Well, maybe stop playing games with the truth?" He had a proud smile on his face though. "I'm proud of you, kiddo, and that's the truth. Stay in touch, yeah? If you need me, I'll be there in a flash."
"Will do, Sirius, thanks. See ya." The mirror dimmed, and Hazel huffed a sigh. Time for homework, and then more fucking detention. She got her books out and worked on her assignments until dinner time, scribbled down a few lewd dreams in her dream journal, then went upstairs.
Umbridge was waiting for her in the Great Hall, of course. "Eat quickly, my dear, discipline waits for no one~"
"Yes, Professor." She sat down at the Slytherin table and ate as much as she pleased, as slowly as she liked.
Draco leaned towards her. "How's it going with that Decree?"
"I had a word with Sirius and the Headmistress earlier, things are rolling. Not much more I can do about it from here." Then she remembered something. "Speaking of, do you know if they're intercepting owl post?"
"I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe not all post, just certain owls."
Like Hedwig, she thought grimly. Bright white Hedwig, smaller than most other owls in the area. She was very glad Sirius had given her the mirror. "Well, I can't put it off forever. See you lot downstairs." She finished her plate and her goblet and stood up, walking down the Hall; Umbridge had already departed from the staff table, she noticed.
"Potter!" Professor Sinistra had stood up from the staff table, an uneasy look in her eye. "Come straight to me when you're done with Umbridge, no matter how late it is. I'll be in my quarters by the common room."
"Yes, Professor." Hazel bowed and kept going, dropping her things off in her dorm before heading up to Umbridge's office.
It was still the same sickly sweet place from before, and Hazel cringed inside when she caught sight of the technicolor kittens. Umbridge was once again wearing robes that blended in with the drapery on her desk. "You're late, Miss Potter."
Hazel shrugged. "You didn't give me a specific time to be here, Professor. I had to eat."
Her eyes narrowed at the disrespect. "Excuses will not be tolerated. Take your seat and pick up your quill."
She sat down, psyching herself for another long, painful night. "What am I writing tonight, Professor?"
"The same lines as before. I must not tell lies."
"Yes, Professor." She buried her emotions and sat down, writing the words mechanically, hiding her reaction to the cutting in her hand. While she wrote, she planned, for the lessons she had to oversee once Draco and Hermione got the study group pinned down, and for the Quidditch plays her team could execute once they had proper high-end brooms and shit to run them with.
Start with the basics, she thought. Disarming and Stunning Charms, she had to make sure everyone was at the same level; she remembered Fred and George whinging about how even Ministry-level wizards couldn't pull off a Shield Charm to literally save their lives. Which seemed weird to her, she had been casting it since she was 13.
What about more advanced stuff? Curses and jinxes and things? No way would they rely on stupid defensive spells, they were preparing for a war and they had to act like it. Dark Arts, even the Unforgivable Curses, had to be on the table. Patronus Charm? Maybe, maybe.
Like last time the hours dragged on, and her thoughts wandered while her hand throbbed, and Umbridge silently graded papers. She wondered what she was grading; the hag never gave any real homework, they just read from the useless book and copied stuff down. Maybe it was Ministry work?
Umbridge must have heard her quill slow down, because she looked up. "Is something the matter, Miss Potter?"
"No, Professor, I'm just sleepy."
Umbridge blinked at that, as if she couldn't understand how someone could be sleepy in her detention. "Sleepy?"
"Yes, Professor. Writing lines is hardly very exciting, is it?"
"Detention isn't meant to be exciting, Potter."
"Exactly my point. So, yes, I was sleepy."
"Are you lying to me again, Potter?" She sounded angry now, on top of disbelieving.
"No, Professor, I'm not. This Quill of yours is hardly the most painful thing I've ever endured."
"What precisely have you endured that was so painful?"
Hazel waved at the burns on her head. "Dragon fire was pretty nasty. My Muggle relatives were very abusive. My periods can get ugly."
Umbridge blanched at the mention of periods. "Yes, well, perhaps we've done enough for tonight. Show me your hand, please."
Repressing a smirk, she held up her hand so Umbridge could examine it. "Still hasn't sunk in. I'll get you one of these days, Potter. Off with you."
"Burn the parchment first."
Umbridge scoffed, but flicked her wand and burnt the page, and like before Hazel gathered the ashes. "Satisfied?"
"Yes, Professor." She bowed and left the room, hurrying downstairs.
As promised she went to Sinistra's new quarters, and knocked politely. There was a rustling from within, and then a quiet voice: "Come in."
She pushed the door open and walked inside. "It's me, Professor, like you asked."
Sinistra, wearing a flimsy nightgown and with her hair in a night braid, approached her. "Your hand, please." Hazel extended her hand, and she bent over it; her fingers were much nicer to the touch than Umbridge's. "Inflammation. What has she made you do to yourself, Miss Potter?"
Hazel sighed. "Writing lines, Professor. She has something she calls a Black Quill, which uses the blood of whoever writes with it as ink; the lines carve themselves into the back of their hand as they write. If I have to attend any more, the writing may become permanent."
The woman shivered at the idea. "How awful." After a moment, Sinistra released her hand and stepped back. "It's clear to me that she will find any excuse to put you in detention, or anyone she deems a threat to her control. All we can do is keep moving forward."
"Yes, Professor. We're not alone, I have allies outside Hogwarts who are working to oppose her and make things easier as well."
Sinistra nodded. "That Order of the Phoenix group Dumbledore is running?"
"The very same."
"Good. Run along now, we have a long day ahead of us."
"Yes Professor." She bowed and left the room, returning to the common room to do homework before her patrols started. Fortunately it was a quiet night, in her section at least; the other prefects were in for a surprise, but that was upstairs so not her problem!
Afterward she went back to her dorm, did her workout and took a shower. Her dormmates were asleep already, so she crawled into bed and slowly drifted away to sleep, doing her best to ignore the throbbing in her hand.
The next day at breakfast, Hermione came over to sit with the Slytherins, a look of tense excitement on her face. "Draco and I have been talking to everyone we could think of, about studying real defensive magic. There's a lot of people interested, Hazel, more than any of us expected!"
"Good, but we have to be careful. The more people are involved, the more chances for it to get out."
"Yes, but don't we all deserve a chance to learn?" Hermione had a determined look on her face as she spoke, and Hazel felt her heart thump a bit harder.
Fortunately Draco stepped in. "We also deserve a chance to avoid punishment, Hermione. Hazel's right, we have to be as discreet as we can."
"Thanks, Draco. Set up a meeting tonight at 8pm in the abandoned History classroom, Hermione and I will give some bullshit inspirational speech; I want you and Ron watching everyone while we talk, got that? You've got sharper political instincts than I do, and Ron's gut feelings about people are weirdly accurate. Also, warn them to head up in small groups, not just in one big gaggle that'll bring attention."
Hermione looked troubled, but nodded in agreement and went back to the Gryffindor table to spread the news. Hazel and Draco went back to their breakfast, excited for tonight's meeting. "Why aren't we using the Room of Requirement?"
Hazel scoffed. "Because I don't want to give away our best secret before we know our people can be trusted, is why. That Room's gonna be our classroom and our refuge, and I don't want the Umbitch catching onto it."
"Oh, that's a good point."
"I know it is, now shut up, we're in public." Looking a little miffed he turned away to focus on eating, and she did the same.
The day went by slowly, and Hazel occupied herself by getting her Firebolt out for some flying practice. The comparison between her broom and the school-provided ones was stark. "Can't wait for that stuff to come through." She did loops, spirals, dives and other stunts, from the pitch to the lake and everywhere in between, stopping when it was lunch time; for the rest of the afternoon she did homework and patrolled the corridors, one eye on the Marauder's Map as she wandered around.
"Potter." She turned to see Professor Winger, who had a stack of books under his arm. "Sorry about the wait, here's those books you wanted."
"Oh, thank you sir." She took the books and stashed them in her bag. "I appreciate that."
"And I appreciate a student who can look to the future." There was an intense expression in his hawk-like eyes. "Your other concerns that day are well founded. My friends and I will do our best to support you, but there's only so much we can do, understand?"
"Yes sir." She bowed in reply to his nod, and they went their separate ways.