Metathesiophobia | H. Potter [3]

9 | dumbledore's departure

Abigail stopped her work with Neville and turned to face where the door normally was in intrigue. She started to walk over to it slowly and people in the room seemed to notice the action.

"Abigail?" Harry spoke up and the girl shook her head.

"Something's no-" she began but there was a loud bang and the room shook. She turned to Harry in alarm. The members all stood in a group behind them.

There was another bang and a small hole appeared in the wall, Umbridge stood on the other side along with Filch and the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad and Cho was being held up by Draco.

"I'll make short work of this," Umbridge smiled as she pointed her wand at the wall, "Bombarda Maxima." The wall shattered completely and she faced the kids behind her, "Get them."

Harry and Abigail were dragged off to Dumbeldore's office where the Minister of Magic was waiting.

"Been watching them for weeks," Umbridge explained, "And see," she held up the paper with the members names on it and Abigail and Harry exchanged a look, "'Dumbledore's Army,' proof of what I've been telling you right from the beginning, Cornelius. All your fear-mongering about You-Know-Who, never fooled us for a minute," she informed Dumbeldore, "We saw your lies for what they were: A smokescreen for your bid to seize control of the Ministry."

Dumbeldore nodded, "Naturally."

"No," Harry spoke up, "He had nothing to do with it. It was me."

"Most noble of you, Harry, to shield me, but as has been pointed out...the parchment clearly says 'Dumbledore's Army,' not 'Potter's.' I instructed Harry to form this organization," Dumbeldore explained, "And I, and I alone, am responsible for its activities."

"Dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet," Cornelius said quickly, "If we hurry, we should still make the morning edition." He turned to his helpers, "Dawlish, Shacklebolt, you will escort Dumbledore to Azkaban to await trial for conspiracy and sedition."

"You can't be serious," Abigail exclaimed and Dumbeldore shook his head slightly, indicating for her to stand down.

"I thought we might hit this little snag. You seem to be laboring under the delusion that I'm going to..." Dumbeldore trailed off, "What was the phrase? 'Come quietly.'" He looked around the room, "Well, I can tell you this: I have no intention of going to Azkaban."

"Enough of this," Cornelius sneered, "Take him."

Before any of them could do anything, however, his Phoenix had appeared. Dumbeldore rose his hands and the bird grabbed him before they erupted in fire and disappeared.

"Well, you may not like him, minister," Kingsley announced, "But you can't deny...Dumbledore's got style."

"Harry," Abigail tried as she followed after him, "This isn't your fault. Dumbeldore didn't even see this coming. Hell, I didn't see it coming."

"It is my fault."

"No," she shook her head. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I talked you into it, didn't I?"

"But I agreed," he countered, "I tried so hard to help, and all it's done is make things worse." He turned around to face her, "That doesn't matter anymore. Because I don't want to play anymore. All it does is make you care too much. And the more you care, the more you have to lose. So maybe it's just better to..."

"To what?"

"To go it alone."

And when Harry turned to walk away, Abigail made no effort to stop him.

-

The following weeks were awful. Umbridge was now Headmistress of the school and one could only imagine how that's gone. Fred and George made an awful mess as a form of distraction for Harry to speak to Sirius before they departed the school, leaving other students with the courage to disrupt Umbridge's ruling as much as possible.

Filch had been given permission to whip any students as a form of punishment, however, he found it difficult to locate the source of any of the mess.

"I caught her after she threw a dungbomb over the staircase," Millicent grinned as she held Abigail by her collar and presented her to the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad.

"Liar," Abigail accused, "I just happened to be passing by and you took that as an opportunity to blame it on me.

"Go fetch Filch," Malfoy suggested and Abigail scowled at the group as Millicent walked off to find him.

"You," she hissed quietly at the boy, although her tone was much lighter now, almost sympathetic, "You're just a kid with a father who's far too conceited for his own good. You have a choice to make, you get to decide who you are, not your father. So what is it, Malfoy? Are you going to be as arrogant and horrid as that wretched father of yours? Or are you going to be different from the man, that despite what you try to make it seem like, you truthfully despise?"

Malfoy seemed taken aback by the choices that the girl had laid out for him, and mumbled quickly, "You don't know anything about me or my father."

"Be that as it may, you will be given a task one day soon and I really hope, for your sake, that you make the right decision. This isn't just some in-school rivalry anymore, Malfoy, although I certainly wish it was. This isn't a game, this is real life. And as everyone starts to join their sides I honestly hope that you're on the right one because if you're not I have no problem doing what I have to to keep those who stand with me safe."

She stepped away from him and the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad and she turned to Filch who had arrived and was waiting eagerly, whip in hand, "Do your worst."

"Gladly," he sneered but before he could, someone spoke up.

"Wait," Draco shouted and Abigail turned to look at him in honest surprise. He was looking at her now as he spoke, "It wasn't her. It was some second-year Gryffindor."

"But-" Filch began but Draco cut him off.

"It wasn't her," he looked behind her at Filch, whose shoulders slumped forward at the loss of whipping a student.

"Draco!" Pansy whined, "We had her!"

Draco shrugged as he turned to leave with the group, "It's not as fun when they make it easy on you."