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Educational Decree No. 21:
Boys and girls are not permitted to be within 8 inches of each other.

Educational Decree No. 22:
All Weasley Products will be banned immediately.

Educational Decree No. 23:
Proper Dress and Decorum is to be maintained at all times.

Educational Decree No. 25:
Any literature by non-Wizards or Half-breeds is banned, forthwith.

Educational Decree No. 26:
Students must consent to have their post checked for illegal contraband.

Educational Decree No. 27:
Any complaints about Hogwarts or its staff must be made in writing to the High Inquisitor.

Educational Decree No. 24:

All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded. An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. 
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

Over the next week or so, it seemed like there was a new Educational Decree being posted daily. All of them were ridiculous and really put into perspective just how far Umbridge and the Ministry had taken over at Hogwarts. Iris suffered from the new restrictions being placed on them along with the rest of her schoolmates, until one morning when she woke to Educational Decree No. 24.

A large sign had been affixed to the Gryffindor notice board, so large that it covered everything else on there— the lists of second-hand spellbooks for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Mr Filch, the Quidditch team training schedule, the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog cards for others, the Weasleys' new advertisement for testers (only under the table since No. 22), the dates of the Hogsmeade weekends, and the lost-and-found notices. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.

Many Gryffindor students crowded around and Iris read the sign quickly, a stony face masking the absolute horror she felt rising within her. She turned and made her way out of the Common Room briskly, lost in thought as she walked down the corridor. The very first thought that came to mind was that Umbridge had to know about their secret group. Somehow she knew what they were planning and was trying to put a stop to it. Iris jogged down the staircases as she considered what to do about it.

It was immediately apparent on entering the Great Hall that Umbridge's sign had not only appeared in Gryffindor Tower. There was a peculiar intensity about the chatter and an extra measure of movement in the Hall as people scurried up and down their tables conferring on what they had read. Iris' gaze sharply observed the occupants of the room as she sat down at the Gryffindor table, noting the lack of their pink-obsessed professor's presence.

Many of the students who had joined their illegal defence group attempted to come over and talk to Iris, looks of panic written across their faces before Iris made eye contact and rapidly shook her head in a manner of telling them to go sit down. It would be too suspicious for twenty-something students from all different houses to suddenly want to talk to Iris. 

She sat in silence with a grave expression until Harry and her friends finally joined her at the table.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had barely taken their seats when Fred, George, and Ginny descended upon the four of them.

"Did you see it?"

"D'you reckon she knows?"

"What are we going to do?"

They were all looking at Iris and Harry. They glanced around to make sure there were no teachers near them. Iris made eye contact with her brother and nodded.

"We're going to do it anyway, of course," Harry said quietly.

"We have to," said Iris.

"Knew you'd say that," said George, beaming at Iris and thumping Harry on the arm.

"The prefects as well?" said Fred, looking quizzically at Ron and Hermione.

"Of course," said Hermione coolly.

The three Weasleys left quickly after that, all looking immensely relieved, but the full reach and repercussions of the sign were not felt until a minute later.

"Harry! Ron!"

It was Angelina and she was hurrying toward them looking perfectly desperate.

"It's okay," said Harry quietly, when she was near enough to hear him. "We're still going to—"

"You realise she's including Quidditch in this?" Angelina said over him. "We have to go and ask permission to re-form the Gryffindor team!"

"What?" said Harry.

"No way," said Ron, appalled.

"You read the sign, it mentions teams too! So listen, Harry... I am saying this for the last time... Please, please don't lose your temper with Umbridge again or she might not let us play anymore!"

"Okay, okay," said Harry, for Angelina looked as though she was on the verge of tears. "Don't worry, I'll behave myself..."

But it was not Harry that they would have to worry about this time. Iris and Hermione had been walking out of the lavatory together later that day just before dinner, discussing their Transfiguration homework when they heard a woman scream.

The two girls, along with every other student scattered along the corridor, froze. Iris could hear a muffled commotion coming from what she thought might be the entrance hall. Hermione looked around at her, frowning.

"What was th—"

Hermione was cut off when the woman screamed again. Iris looked at her, both of their eyes large in confusion. In sync, they started speed-walking down the corridor in the direction of the noise.

The screams were indeed coming from the entrance hall; they grew louder as Iris and Hermione ran toward the doors. When they reached the top the girls found the entrance hall packed. Students had come flooding out of the Great Hall, where dinner was just about to begin, to see what was going on. Others had crammed themselves onto the marble staircase. Iris pushed forward through a knot of tall Slytherins and saw that the onlookers had formed a great ring, some of them looking shocked, others even frightened. Professor McGonagall was directly opposite Iris and Hermione on the other side of the hall; she looked as though what she was watching made her feel faintly sick. Iris looked to the side of the circle and saw Harry and Ron watching as well.

Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the entrance hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them up-side-down; it looked very much as though it had been thrown down the stairs after her.

"S-Sixteen years I've lived and taught here! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home! You c-can't do this!" Trelawney sobbed.

"Actually..." a bitterly sweet voice spoke, and Iris finally understood. Umbridge stepped forward, a decree in hand, "...I can," said Professor Umbridge, and Iris was revolted to see the enjoyment stretching her toadlike face as she watched Professor Trelawney stumble, sobbing uncontrollably, "just an hour ago, the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall."

But she stood and watched, with an expression of gloating enjoyment, as Professor Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking backwards and forward in paroxysms of grief.

Then Iris heard footsteps. Professor McGonagall had broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to Professor Trelawney and was patting her firmly on the back while withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes. Trelawney blew her nose loudly as McGonagall looked daggers at Umbridge.

The next thing that happened Iris came to regret. She found her feet moving before her brain could keep up, taking her out into the clearing. Iris 

Umbridge's face was falsely pleasant but Iris could sense the annoyance the professor felt toward her as she said, "Miss Potter, this is an adult matter."

Iris felt her anger flare, never having truly hated a person in this way. It was different to how she felt toward other people who were horrible like Voldemort, Malfoy, or the Dursleys. There was just pure frustration at the fact that Iris was completely powerless. Her response came without fully thinking through the possible consequences as Iris wanted so badly to break something or start throwing jinxes, but the only thing she could do was speak.

Iris sneered, "Do you enjoy your dictatorship? Ruining lives for the fun of it?" The words came out of her in a fury, simply begging to understand.

The toadlike witch stared for a second before speaking in her infuriatingly sweet voice, "You 'ought to be taught to respect your superiors... That'll be detention, I think, Miss Potter," Umbridge said victoriously, seeming pleased that Iris finally cracked and given her something to punish.

There were some gasps from the students in the hall. It had been long enough in the school year, with plenty of detentions, that everyone knew by then what Umbridge's punishments were.

Iris' mouth opened to argue more (in a fashion quite like her brother) but stopped when a hand firmly clamped around her wrist, tugging gently. She turned her head sharply to see Professor McGonagall standing behind her with a severe expression. The woman knew what was now in store for the young girl and didn't want her to make it any worse.

Iris stepped back, her jaw closing tightly. Professor McGonagall glared at the shorter professor, shuffling Iris back toward Professor Trelawney.

Umbridge stared icily back and asked in her condescending voice, "Something you'd like to say, dear?"

McGonagall scoffed, "Oh, there are several things I'd like to say." She wrapped a comforting arm around Professor Trelawney and spoke to the sobbing woman quietly, "Calm down... It's not as bad as you think, now... You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts..."

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" said Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. "And your authority for that statement is...?"

"That would be mine," said a deep voice.

Behind Umbridge, students on the staircases scuttled out of the way as Dumbledore descended imposingly. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as he strode forward through the circle of onlookers toward the place where Professor Trelawney stood, tearstained and trembling, Iris and Professor McGonagall alongside her.

Dumbledore took just a moment to inspect the scene happening before him before he turned to the two witches beside Iris and said, "Professor McGonagall... might I ask you to escort Sybill back upstairs?"

Professor McGonagall eyed Umbridge viciously, "Of course."

She guided Trelawney, who was now muttering expressions of thank you over and over, out of the Entrance Hall. As she did so, Iris made brief eye contact with Dumbledore, who said everything he needed to with a single look. Iris remained, watching the face-off between Dumbledore and Umbridge with dedicated silence.

Umbridge was losing her grasp on the fake pleasantness of her voice, frustration mixing in as she said, "Dumbledore— May I remind you that under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, as enacted by the Minister—"

 "—you have the right to dismiss my teachers," Dumbledore cut her off with a powerful tone, "You do not, however, have the authority to banish them from the grounds. That power remains with the Headmaster."

Umbridge paused, annoyance seeping into her honey-coated warning, "For now."

They had an intense staredown for a few seconds before Dumbledore backed away, turning towards the stairs he had come from, "Don't you all have studying to do?" he shouted to the observing students as he exited.

His gaze flickered across the room, avoiding Harry and settling on Iris for just a fraction of a second to offer her reassurance and a warning caution. She watched him go, fear crawling in her stomach as she thought of what would happen next time Umbridge got brave. Dumbledore wouldn't be able to stop her forever.

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Iris was summoned to detention the following night, conveniently held at the same time as dinner so she would be hungry the entire evening. When she knocked on the door to Umbridge's office she said, "Come in," in a sugary voice. Iris entered cautiously, looking around.

She had known this office under three of its previous occupants. In the days when Gilderoy Lockhart had lived here, it had been plastered in beaming portraits of its owner. When Lupin had occupied it, it was likely you would meet some fascinating Dark creature in a cage or tank if you came to call. In the impostor Moody's days, it had been packed with various instruments and artefacts for the detection of wrongdoing and concealment.

Now, however, it looked totally unrecognizable. It was even worse than Harry had described it to her after his detentions. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolour kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. It was horrifying.

"Good evening, Miss Potter."

Iris grimaced and looked around. She had not noticed Umbridge at first because she was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blended only too well with the tablecloth on the desk behind her.

"Evening," Iris said very stiffly.

"Sit down," the professor said, pointing toward a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for Iris. Beside that was the thing she was most dreading: the blood quill. It was a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point— unsuspecting enough as it hid the darkness.

"I want you to write 'I will respect my superiors,' " she told Iris softly, "I expect your brother has told you how this works," Iris glared and Umbridge smiled wickedly, "Go on now, as many as it takes for the message to... sink in," said Umbridge sweetly.

She moved over to her desk, sat down, and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking.

Iris swallowed heavily, taking in a deep breath as she placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I will respect my superiors.

She struggled to hold in a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Iris' right hand, cut into her skin as though traced there by a scalpel— yet even as she stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth.

And on it went. Again and again, Iris wrote the words on the parchment in her own blood. And again and again, the words were cut into the back of her hand, healed, and then reappeared the next time she set quill to parchment.

She wondered if it would scar the same as Harry's... another everlasting mark she would share with her twin.

Darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. Iris did not ask when she would be allowed to stop. Iris could feel Umbridge's gaze on her, watching the girl for signs of weakness and she was not going to show any, not even if she had to sit here all night, cutting open her own hand with this quill...

"Come here," Umbridge said, after what seemed hours.

Iris stood up. Her hand was stinging painfully. When she looked down at it she saw that the cut had healed, but that the skin there was red and raw.

"Hand," the professor said.

Iris extended it. She took it in her own. Iris repressed a shudder as Umbridge touched her with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore a number of ugly old rings.

"Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," she said, smiling. "Well, we may just extend this for another week, it seemed to do the trick on your brother's attitude. Same time tomorrow— You may go."

Iris left her office without a word. The school was quite deserted; it was surely past midnight. She walked slowly up the corridor, contemplating everything she had ever done. This was torture, in more ways than just cutting her hand up.

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so this story reached 500,000 reads yesterday... yes, i did freak out just a little bit

i just wanted to say thank you so so so much to all of you for reading this fic, and especially for sticking around up to this point. i never truly imagined getting this many reads, of course i hoped for it, but actually reaching this milestone is insane and it's all thanks to you guys! idk if i should do something to celebrate but i've got no ideas so if anyone has something in mind feel free to lmk, but otherwise i'm just super grateful and excited to continue writing this story and iris, and i hope you all continue to enjoy it! ❤️❤️