human again / hp.

Chapter 80

The entire castle seemed to buzz with whispers and hushed tones that morning. Rumors traveled quickly through the halls, carried on the lips of students huddled in groups. Most of the talk was centered around the same name: Dolores Umbridge.

I had heard it in the common room, at breakfast, even in the corridors as I made my way to meet Daphne. Apparently, our dear Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was no longer content with merely tormenting students during her lessons. She had somehow managed to secure herself the title of High Inquisitor.

The thought alone made my skin crawl.

I spotted Daphne waiting for me near the staircase that led to the North Tower. She leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, looking as calm as ever. Her light hair framed her face perfectly, and her green eyes were sharp with curiosity as she took in the buzz of activity around her.

"You're late," she said when I reached her, though her tone was more amused than annoyed.

"Sorry," I replied, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. "Got caught up in all the gossip. Have you heard?"

"About Umbridge?" Daphne smirked. "Of course I have. You can't take five steps without someone whispering her name. High Inquisitor. Honestly, it sounds ridiculous."

"It is ridiculous," I said, lowering my voice as a group of Ravenclaws passed us. "She's already insufferable as a teacher. Now she's going to be overseeing the entire school?"

Daphne arched a brow. "More like meddling in everyone's business. Did you see the notice? She's been given authority to inspect other teachers."

I blinked. "Inspect teachers? Since when does the Ministry care about Hogwarts' staff?"

"Since Fudge started losing his mind over Dumbledore," Daphne said dryly. "You know how paranoid he is. He thinks Dumbledore's building some kind of army."

The thought was laughable, but it also wasn't. I had overheard enough conversations in Gryffindor Tower to know that Dumbledore was, in fact, preparing for something. Whether or not it was an army, I wasn't sure.

"And Umbridge is his weapon of choice," I muttered.

Daphne nodded, her expression turning thoughtful. "She's going to make life miserable for everyone, isn't she?"

"She already has," I said bitterly, thinking of Harry's hand. The memory of those bleeding words still made my stomach churn.

Daphne tilted her head, studying me. "You're thinking about Potter, aren't you?"

I hesitated, but there was no point in denying it. "He's been through enough already. Now this..."

"You care about him a lot," she observed, her voice neutral.

I glanced at her, trying to gauge her expression. Daphne wasn't one to judge, but she was observant—too observant at times.

"He's my friend," I said simply.

"And yet, he seems to have a knack for landing in trouble," she said with a small smile.

I couldn't argue with that. "Trouble tends to follow him," I admitted. "But it's not his fault. None of this is."

Daphne sighed, her gaze shifting to the staircase. "Well, if Umbridge is as bad as everyone says, he won't be the only one in trouble. She's going to have her eye on all of us, especially those of us who don't fall in line."

"Especially me," I muttered.

Daphne's eyes narrowed slightly. "Has she said anything to you?"

"Not yet," I said, shaking my head. "But it's only a matter of time. She's already suspicious of me because of my family. And being in Gryffindor doesn't exactly help."