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Rules to be broken
As Isadora finally made her way back through the castle corridors, her mind whirled from the encounter with Draco. She felt an odd mix of irritation and exhilaration, her thoughts drifting back to the smug smirk he wore as he left the owlery. She barely noticed the murmuring crowd gathering around her in the main hall until she heard the unmistakable sound of hammering echoing through the stone walls.
At the center of it all was Filch, his face twisted into a grim smile as he hammered pink-framed proclamations onto the wall. Umbridge stood beside him, her saccharine smile more chilling than comforting as she surveyed the students, her eyes sweeping over them like a hawk's. Each nail Filch drove into the wall seemed to echo louder, as if each strike sealed another freedom lost.
Isadora stayed at the back, her hands tightening around her bag as she scanned the decrees with disbelief. No gatherings of three or more students without permission. No clubs without Umbridge's oversight. No books not authorized by the Ministry. The rules piled up, each more repressive than the last, each framed in gaudy pink that clashed horribly against the cold, gray stone of the castle walls.
The crowd's low murmurs grew louder, indignation spreading like a quiet flame among the students. Isadora felt it too—a simmering, quiet anger that made her fingers curl with tension. She wanted to speak up, to shout, to demand what right the Ministry had to control their every move—but Umbridge's razor-edged smile and cold gaze kept her silent.
Just when she thought no one would dare break the silence, Draco Malfoy's voice cut through the crowd. "So, thinking for ourselves is banned now, too?" he drawled, loudly enough for even Umbridge to hear. His arms were crossed, a look of pure disdain on his face as he stood just a few feet in front of her. His comment hung in the air, bold and irreverent, the kind of open challenge most would be too scared to voice.
Some students stifled laughs; others cast nervous glances at Umbridge, whose smile remained intact, though her eyes flashed with irritation. She turned to Draco with a syrupy-sweet tone that barely disguised the ice behind it. "Mr. Malfoy," she cooed, "these regulations are for the safety and improvement of all Hogwarts students. Surely you understand the importance of discipline."
Draco didn't back down; his smirk stayed fixed, unbothered. "Oh, I understand, Professor," he replied, voice smooth and mocking. "Perfectly." He held her gaze a second longer than necessary, his expression a silent dare. And for once, Isadora felt something like admiration flicker in her.
Umbridge's gaze turned steely, but she said nothing more, instead gesturing for Filch to hang up yet another proclamation: No unauthorized magic in common spaces. Isadora felt her throat tighten, anger clawing its way up as she watched the rule hammered into place. But she knew better than to let her emotions show, especially under Umbridge's watchful eyes.
