The Choice of Destiny (Snape Love Story)

First Casualties

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“What is the meaning of this Mr. Potter?” spoke Umbridge sweetly and grabbed his shoulder with her sweaty hand. Harry fought hard not to grimace at the chubby fingers sporting a bright pink nail polish and ugly greenish rings.

“Those are the responses to the interview I provided for the Quibbler magazine,” he said calmly. “Most of the people seemed to have liked it.”

Umbridge dove for the magazine in Catalina’s hand as a hawk would at a mouse and stared at the front page.

“When did you do this… atrocity Potter?” she whispered threateningly and frowned at Harry’s photograph on the front page. The picture momentarily stopped staring and blinking and gave Umbridge a flashy smile, causing all the nearby observers to burst into giggles.

“Few weeks back in Hogsmeade,” he said nonchalantly and grabbed a piece of fruit as the ultimate sign of his defiance. He didn’t even bother to eat it properly; he took a giant bite and let the juice drip down from his chin. It was like he needed to keep his mouth busy so he wouldn’t laugh openly at aggravated Umbridge, whose color started to remind him of someone that’s been deprived of oxygen for too long.

Umbridge started to pull all the letters into her arms, clearly annoyed at the manner in which even the letters seemed to defy her by falling out of her hands.

“Potter, you will never see Hogsmeade again!” she pouted with hidden anger and turned to the slightly dis-eased Catalina. Harry noticed that she grew wary as Umbridge’s attention turned to her:

“Have you enjoyed reading that brilliant assortment of lies?” she barked out. Catalina shrugged:

“I was only looking for the prize. I heard they were giving away Tarot cards this time,” she replied but Umbridge only grimaced nastily:

“I’m sure,” she jeered in a sarcastic tone. “Just like you had to leave early for the Christmas Break in order to visit Mr. Weasley…  I think your Tuesday nights will be particularly busy Miss Legrande!”

The witch skipped away in her too tight pink skirt and skimpy pink pumps, quite ignorant to the fact a trail of Harry’s letters she dropped grew with her every step.

“Tuesday nights?” cocked his eyebrow Harry and looked at Catalina.

“Yes, she gives me detentions on Tuesdays now,” she replied coldly and got up. It seemed like her mind was someplace else but then she smiled:

“You take up the rest of her time Potter,” she said with a wink and strode away from the Great Hall. The fact that the other students stared after her like she was some kind of an anomaly made him even more suspicious of her; he wasn’t imagining the change after all.

“Did you notice?” he whispered to Ron. “Umbridge gave her detention but all she’s said to me so far was that I will be banned from visiting Hogsmeade.”

“Shouldn’t you be glad she forgot about you?” whispered Ron back incredulously.  Harry didn’t deny that he was glad to momentarily escape Umbridge’s attentions, especially since this was a rather important week for the Dumbledore’s Army, but as he knew that she would eventually remember, he had to wonder what steered her attention to picking on Catalina.

And what was that thing she said about Christmas Break and Mr. Weasley? he thought. Even though couple of professors suggested that Umbridge was raging at the fact that so many students left Hogwarts without her knowing, she hasn’t as much as asked any of them a single question about it.

All the thoughts that ran through his head entitled that there was a much greater mystery at hand but instead of trying to solve it, Harry lowered his head back down to his breakfast and continued to think about the future of Dumbledore’s Army.