Liar. Harry Potter's sister ~ Book 2

chapter ten

The days drone on, quickly turning into weeks before we know it. The stack of homework in my dormitory has piled up incredibly: the teachers have been so eager to prepare us for our O.W.L.s we seem to be spending most of our evening writing essays, examining charts, scanning over notes and reading through textbooks. Hermione was becoming more on edge every single day, worrying about her revision and if she was going to get through the courses in time, pestering Harry, Ron and I every second that we looked up from our studying. We barely had any free time now, it was all filled up with work.

The scars on the back of my hand and on my back, had faded into extraordinary, silvery scars, that now were completely invisible, unless you looked super closely. Umbridge's lessons had been just as boring as the first one: copying from the textbook, reading, theoretical work, more reading. I didn't dare speak back to her again. I had spent more time alone with her, in those detentions, than I ever would have liked to. I never knew that it was possible to feel as deep of a desire to strangle someone than I feel right now, towards Umbridge. I was beginning to think that she couldn't get any worse until one morning at breakfast when Hermione came storming in:

"I can't believe it!" she said, flabbergasted. She slams a newspaper onto the table and flattens it. I look over and see a picture of Umbridge smiling sweetly and blinking slowly, positioned under the headline:

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR

I gulp, the scars on my hand prickling, my jaw clenching. This cannot be good.

~

The Common Room was almost empty. It had been a week since Umbridge's appointment as High Inquisitor. She had been inspecting teachers throughout their lessons, questioning their teaching habits and testing them on things of their subjects. She had been on our tails every minute of every day, somehow popping up whenever somebody misbehaved. Rain hammered aggressively against the windows. The only light in the room was from the half-extinguished fire and the occasional bolt of lightning that flashed past the window. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I are seated in front of the fire after a long day of lessons: including double Defence Against the Dark Arts, with Umbridge. Hermione's cat, Crookshanks is curled up in my lap, purring pleasantly as I stroke his fur. We are all half asleep, trying to finish off last pieces of homework and revision, when Hermione stands up. She walks over to the window and places her hands on the ledge, staring out into the wet grounds. She turns around.

"You know, Ron and I were talking, earlier..." she trails off, "we need to do something about Umbridge. We need to be able to defend ourselves." The three of us stay silent. "I was thinking, today, that we might need to take matters into our own hands..."

"What d'you mean take things into our own hands?" I ask, leaning forward, putting my elbows on my knees.

"Well, we're way past the stage of leaning everything out of books. We need a teacher. A proper one. To help us learn spells and defence, through practicals, rather than just theoretical work."

"Wha- well who's going to be able to teach us?"Harry asks, rising from his seat. Ron glares at him.

"Isn't it obvious?" he says, I see his eyes hover over me. "She's talking about you two." My head cocks up. The pit of my stomach feels like it's dropped out. No. Surely they were pulling our legs. There was a moment silence where Harry and I looked around at a nervous looking Ron and Hermione. The window panes rattles slightly in their frames from the strong winds. We can't do this can we?