As the Sister of Harry Potter

The mood over the castle slowly became darker despite the triumphs over Umbridge. The homework piled on. My nightmares returned, and I started Quidditch practice up again on the first of February. Kirke and Sloper failed to meet the proper standards, and Ron seemed to be getting worse, not better. Ginny on the other hand, was quite a good Seeker. Still, Quidditch was a mess. Harry was a mess too, with Occlumency lessons from Snape and O.W.L. homework beginning to overload again. In fact, if it weren’t for DA, we both probably would have left to live with Sirius.

DA was going well, however. Most everyone had mastered Stupify, so we moved on to Reducto and Glacius. Nights when we had DA considerably cheered everyone up.

One Tuesday in early February, Hermione slammed the paper down in front of us, panicked. “Chill Hermione, it’s just–” I started, then shut up as I saw the front page. There had been another breakout from Azkaban, this time, it was ten Death Eaters, and ones who were huge supporters of Voldemort, including Dolohov, Rockwood, and the Lestranges. Neville went white with fury when he saw Bellatrix, and I don’t blame him.

“I can’t believe they’d try to blame it on your lame father of all people, Black,” said Draco snidely as he passed our table. Fred grabbed Hyden as he tried to stand and shoved him back down. Ophilia was gazing emptily at the pictures.

“It’s getting so dangerous out there,” she said quietly. “Ten Death Eaters… and his best ones, too…” she shuddered.

“He probably has the Dementors on his side as well,” added Harry.

That afternoon, Sarlanda met me outside the Greenhouses and we made out way through the snow trenches towards Hagrid’s. “Did you read that article about Bode?” she asked.

“Yeah. Harry, Ron and Hermione said they saw that plant delivered. All he did was stare at the ceiling and mutter. What do you know about him?”

“He worked in the Department of Mysteries,” Sarlanda said simply. I wracked my brains, trying to remember where I’d heard of that department before, and then it hit me; Harry’s epiphany.

“Whatever Voldemort’s after, it’s in the Department of Mysteries,” he had said.

“Sarlanda, the weapon Voldemort’s after…it’s not in there, is it?” I asked hesitantly.

Sarlanda’s face went white as she stopped in her tracks. “Oh my…then Podmore and Bode were Imperiused…I have to – oh no!”

We approached the small class to find Umbridge standing to the side with her clipboard.

“There ya two are!” said Hagrid.

“You’re on probation?!” I hissed. “What did you do?”

“Nuthin’, I jus –”

“Professor Hagrid, are you ready to start class?” asked Umbridge as she sauntered over to us.

“Yeah, righ’, class…” Hagrid mumbled as he went to get his crossbow. I had a sinking feeling CMC would go back to being boring again.

-

Sarlanda wasn’t at dinner. As soon as CMC was over, she muttered something about Dumbledore and then ran to the castle so fast you’d have thought I had asked her to wear a pink dress. So I walked up to dinner by myself, only looking forward to George and Hyden’s announcement, because Hyden would be playing a new song.

“Good evening everyone, this is Mr. Matrix.”

“And Mr. Rockstar, with your daily announcements!”

“First off, we thank everyone’s support! And in return… have you ever wanted to be as brave as a Gryffindor? Well, now you can! We’re selling bottles of our patented Gryffindor Courage elixir! They’re going for six Sickles a bottle, so send us some sliver, and we’ll send you courage! And now, Mr. Rockstar has a new composition for everyone.”

“It’s called, ‘Never Do What You’re Told’,” said Hyden, and he began his song.

“To you reality is just another mistake,
You’ve taken it upon yourself to set it straight
So scare them worse, they’re easier to control
Tell them that they’re threatened and they’ll do what they’re told

‘Cuz your words burn like acid
And you can’t see so clear
It’s from the truth that you’re twistin’
Lies you whisper in my ear
And your tongue got Confundus
With the mysteries you told
No you can’t fool us,
‘Cuz this is getting old
This is getting old

You published dirt on the Boy Who Lived
Why were you scared people would listen to him?
Cornelius Fudge, keep your hands off the Prophet
These times are hard, and we work so hard to stop it

‘Cuz your words burn like acid
And you can’t see so clear
It’s from the truth that you’re twistin’
Lies you whisper in my ear
And your tongue got Confundus
With the mysteries you told
No you can’t fool us,
‘Cuz this is getting old”

-

Overnight, we sold around a hundred bottles of “Gryffindor Courage,” which was so, so, so obviously Firewhiskey. Lots of students ended up in the Hospital Wing the next morning with hangovers. A new decree had also gone up, and I saw it as I fetched my bag before Defense.

BY ORDER OF
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

Teachers are hereby banned from giving students
any information that is not strictly related to the
subject they are paid to teach.

Signed,
Dolores Jane Umbridge
HIGH INQUISITOR

‘I’ll be dammed if that stops the teachers,’ I thought as I walked into Madame Toad’s class. I took my usual back seat between Cedric and Ophilia.

“Better be careful today, she’s in a right foul mood,” Cedric whispered to me.

“Why?”

“She was up all night trying to figure out how you lot were getting Firewhiskey to everyone.”

When Umbridge arrived, it did look as though she had been up all night. There were circles under her toady eyes and her hair was unkempt. “Chapter Fourteen, read it. No talking,” she snapped, and everyone hastily got their books out. She really was in a bad mood.

Just fifteen minutes into class, there was a banging noise from behind me. Everyone turned around to see Fred and George with an Exploding Snap set on their desks.

“Weasleys! I will not have you disrupting my class in such childish manner! Thirty points from Gryffindor each!”

“But Professor,” cried out Lee, “you’re breaking your own rules! Exploding Snap’s got nothing to do with Defense!”

“Two week’s detention, Mr. Jordan!”

-

Our Quidditch match with Hufflepuff was set for the end of February. Train as we might, I had a sinking feeling that the only way we would win was if we kept possession of the Quaffle the entire match or Ginny pulled off a record-breaking capture of the Snitch.

Valentine’s Day this year would be on a Hogsmead visit, so Cedric and I were planning on spending the day together. That morning during breakfast, however, there was a slight change of plan. I sat next to Harry, munching down toast. A brown owl landed next to Hermione and she tugged the note anxiously from it’s beak. She speed through the note at a furious pace. “Harry, Jennifer… this is really important, can you meet up with me at the Three Broomsticks around mid-day?”

“Well, I dunno Hermione. Cho might expect me to spend the whole day with her,” replied Harry.

“And Cedric and I have stuff planned.”

“Well, bring Cho if you must, and actually… bring Cedric with you. I have to go reply to this,” Hermione said urgently, and ran off with the letter and a piece of toast.

-

Cedric and I spent the morning in the slushy snow, talking, drinking Butterbeer, and kissing. All the worry and pressure simply melted away in those few short hours. At a quarter to noon, we walked into the Three Broomsticks.

“Jennifer!” called out Hermione, waving us over to a table in the corner. Harry was already there, along with Luna Lovegood and Rite Skeeter. Harry and Hermione looked happy, Luna day-dreamy, and Rita disgruntled. I eyed them all suspiciously as we sat down.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s brilliant Jen,” said Harry. “Rita Skeeter is going to write the story. Our story, just how we tell it, and the Quibbler’s going to publish it.”

“Really?” I asked, stunned.

“Yes. I think people will be reading it too, since the Prophet left out a lot of the Azkaban breakout details,” said Hermione.

“This is great!” said Cedric, beaming.

“So are you ready?” Hermione asked. Harry, Cedric and I all looked at each other, nodded our heads, and she said, “Fire away Rita.”