UnExpected

Chapter 47

"Good morning class."

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge."

With a crawly little smile in place, Dolores Jane Umbridge strolled down the aisle to the front of the room, making sure everyone's wands were safely tucked away. Because apparently teenagers just didn't need to learn how to defend themselves these days. It's not like out and proud Death Eaters, who lived for nothing but harm and pain, had escaped a prison that drove the very sanest of people out of their minds and were now freely roaming the world. That's just ridiculous.

Buffy tapped an itchy finger at the end of the wand hidden in her sleeve. If she aimed it just right, she was sure she could hit Umbridge in the eye. She'd done it to demons before. What would really be the difference now?

"Everyone, please open your books and –"

It felt as big as a dragon and as visible as a speck of dust. A feeling that something in this room wasn't right.

Umbridge's beady little eyes swept over the entire room. There was something...off. Out of place. A straight line she had painstakingly put in place that now felt to be out of joint. But what was it? Everything looked all right. Nothing out of the ordinary was noticeable to her keen eyes. But someone had moved something. But who? And what? The answer to one of those questions seemed to lie on the little blonde girl who had her big and wide eyes on the professor.

Buffy Anne Summers, Umbridge internally snarled. Middle name and everything.

A barely visible smirk lifted the corner of Buffy's mouth, her eyes challenging the, and this is loosely termed, professor, egging her on to prove something that apparently wasn't there to begin with.

The faceoff lasted three seconds and, in the end, Umbridge conceded. But only because she had a class to teach. She didn't have time for silly foolish things.

"Everyone open your books and start your reading," she ordered tersely and took her seat.

Buffy did as she was told and opened her book: Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts. Umbridge just never specified which book. With every word she read she could feel burning eyes in her direction. And that tiny little smirk once again appeared. Because what the owner of those burning eyes didn't know was that the chair they were resting on was a few centimeters shorter today, the desk a little off center, the student's desks a few centimeters back, and the pictures on the walls were slanted just a little bit. One of many little surprises that lay unsuspecting in the room.

Buffy learned her enemies well, knew what to do to beat them back, or in this case, grate on their nerves, and there was nothing that grated Umbridge more than a lack of a straight line, lack of order, and a sense that something was going on right under her nose and she had no clue as to what. Which goes to show that sometimes it's the little things that matter most.

*****

"What's that noise?"

Ron and Harry paused and listened...what was that noise? Hermione moved further into the common room, her head lowered, and her ears perked. A steady stream of low sound drifted over them. A bass of even rhythm and synchronized melody that had a person or two moving their feet subconsciously to the sound.

"It's coming from our dormitory," said Lavender off handedly, sitting in a nearby chair with Parvati.

"What?" asked Hermione, taken aback by the fact.

"We heard it as we were going up the stairs," replied Parvati. "Buffy must be having some sort of celebration up there."

"Celebration?" asked Ron.