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xiv. FOURTEEN
INQUISITORIAL
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PRESCOTT HAD BEEN THE ONE TO CLAIM ALL OF THE VICTORIES DURING THE FIRST TERM, BUT IT WAS PROVING TO BE MORE AND MORE OBVIOUS THAT THE SECOND TERM BELONGED TO MELORA. First, came the detention with Umbridge. And second, came Bellatrix's escape from Azkaban. The third thing that favoured Melora was another one involving their Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and Prescott was less than thrilled about it.
It was how they managed to sneak out of the common room without any other students noticing that caught her by surprise the most. Astoria Greengrass and some of her other friends seemed to have plotted to stay awake for as long as possible, just to make sure that Melora could not get away to where she wanted to. But, the fourteen-year-olds had fallen asleep sooner than they had hoped, and the seventh-years were successfully able to escape, leaving them collapsed on the armchairs.
To see six other students inside the room when they reached Umbridge's office was also a surprise. Melora, Ilia and Montague had not expected to see so many fifth-years there too. Draco, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Crabbe and Goyle, were each stood there, waiting for the older three to arrive. When they did eventually burst through the door, there was a near tut that emerged from the small crowd.
"And here we have the seventh-years," Professor Umbridge smiled sweetly as she turned around to the sound of the opening door. "Look, stand here."
Melora reluctantly stood beside her cousin in the line that had been created, and let her two friends stand beside her. Immediately, badges were slapped onto their robes, and they received sickly smiles from Umbridge.
"Now, my Inquisitorial Squad will be led by Draco," Umbridge said proudly, gesturing at the boy that stood beside Melora. The fifth-year students all then smirked, leaving the seventh-years to roll their eyes and grin back. Umbridge continued, "You must all know of the troubles that have been caused by the other fifth-years and seventh-years."
"I was attacked after a Quidditch match," Draco put in, bravely interrupting Umbridge. But it seemed that she didn't mind, and actually was glad that he had spoken up.
She nodded at this and smiled, "Yes."
Melora stared at her cousin in disbelief. Attacked. He had jeered at and taunted them. He had insulted their families. Of course they were going to fight back. However, Umbridge seemed to think that Draco had been vulnerable and had done no wrong whatsoever. She seemed quite proud with her selection of students as she stood before them all.
"Your abilities have been confirmed by the Ministry, so if anyone questions them, you can send them straight over to me," Umbridge went on to say, mirroring the grin that had spread across the Slytherins' faces, "You're quite powerful. You can dock points from any house. You can hand out detentions to anyone. And you can read over post that you think contains anything which would be considered as breaking the rules."
Draco gaped at this news - how exciting it must be for him to be able to look over other people's shoulders at what could be private matters. She knew that eventually she would have to do these tasks too, but her enthusiasm towards it was nowhere near as great as her cousin's was.
Professor Umbridge dismissed the group swiftly, and as the nine students left, Draco began to turn his walk into a swagger, earning several eye rolls from the people surrounding him. Pansy Parkinson, however, was staring after him in awe, as though no one in the world could compare to her Draco. Melora wanted to be sick.
Melora was exceptionally glad that it was more Draco's choice for who he was to marry, rather than get paired with the girl who had been dying to date him since first year. Pansy had ambition, she would give her that. But she also had a spoilt attitude, and an annoying, whining voice. Her eyes never seemed to leave Draco, and it was a little disturbing.
"How does it feel to be under my rules, then?" Draco suddenly asked Melora.
"Not that great. I have a feeling this is going to go badly," she smirked as he scowled at her. "And anyway, it's only your third achievement in five years. We started losing the Quidditch cup when you joined our team, by the way."
"I joined in my second year. You lost in my first year," he snapped.
"That was because of Potter," Melora said bitterly, denying the blame completely. "We were doing alright until he came along. And then when you joined our team, we had hope that you could do better. But you didn't. We haven't won at all."
Montague sniggered beside her. Draco bit his lip in attempt to think of something in response. He flicked between the three seventh-years, each of whom had been on the team during Slytherin's successes. Ilia glared at him as he tried to blame her poor blocking skills, whilst Melora and Montague were left to defend their own scoring techniques.
"It's not my fault that we're losing," he spat defensively after a while.
What he was saying had some element of truth in it, anyway. It was more of a team issue, since it was due to all of their failures that the Slytherins had begun to lose the Cup, year upon year. But, no one else would admit to such a thing, and so pointing the finger at Draco Malfoy seemed like the most logical idea.
