Plot Twist [GEORGE WEASLEY]

55.

The week had hardly reached its middle when Education Decree No. 24 was declared. Student groups were banned. That meant any club, however inconsequential, would need permission from Umbridge herself to reform. Even the Gobstones club was in trouble.

It wouldn't take a mastermind to realize that Umbridge had found out about the meeting in the Hog's Head. She must be having spies farther than anyone could conceive. It was quite funny to Amara. Imagine being so threatened by students who were figuring out how to get rid of their zits in the morning.

Absentminded, she poked her own. She wondered if Umbridge knew who was there at the meeting. Then, she could possibly pull them into her office for questioning. The idea made her shiver. She didn't shine in the art of lying.

She glanced around her. No one was awake. It was an hour ahead of the time she typically got up. Unfortunately, she had the usual dream. She had been too distressed to fall back to sleep. She got dressed and went downstairs.

The school was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Honeyed morning light shot through the windows, forming slants of light on the wonderful marble floor. Even if she was sleepy at least she got to witness the simple beauties the school had to offer at this hushed hour.

These simple beauties vanished as she visited the place where she had seen the door. Her trip there had been a confusing tangle of corridors. It stupefied her how she had remembered it. Her memory was hazy. Regardless, she navigated it like she had gone there a thousand times before.

She found the lone wall in the lone corridor. "Alright then," she spoke, her voice echoing in the small space. "I'm here again. I got a bit scared but I'm here. So let me in."

For a few minutes she waited. The wand in her hand grew damp. This corridor was quite warm. Amara stared at the wall, expectant. When it didn't give away to her persistence, she stomped off.

What was wrong with this stupid door? It seemed to reel her in only to push her away. Grumbling, she travelled back up the corridors. All this way for nothing!

Something was wrong with this door. It just put her into the worst situations.

Much like the one it was going to put her in soon.

"Excuse me, who's there," a voice resounded from the way she was going towards.

The echo of the corridor warped the voice so she couldn't figure out who it was. And Amara couldn't run away like she wanted to. With an internal groan, she strode towards the voice. Her eyes strained at the brilliant light at the end of the corridor. She could see the silhouette. A stout woman with a very familiar head shape. Merlin's beard!

Amara met her with a wince.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," she said, twiddling with her fingers. "I see that you're an early bird."

Umbridge's smile curved in a way it didn't meet her soulless eyes. She peered out the window to her side. "You know what they say, Ms. Shacklebolt," her lips thinned as she spoke. "The early bird catches the worm."

"I heard my father say that a lot," Amara commented, tensing at the sight of Umbridge's pink pumps.

Sizing her up, Umbridge stepped closer. Her brow furrowing at her appearance. "Your hair..."

Amara touched her braids. She had done them yesterday with a lot of pain and hard work. "Yes, Professor Umbridge?" She forced a new level of politeness into her voice.

The teacher pursed her lips.

"Do you...think that your hair is the most professional?" she posed the question.