Chapter 12
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BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded.

An organisation, 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 organisation, 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 organisation, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with

Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.

Signed:

Dolores Jane Umbridge,

High Inquisitor

M.O.M

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On the Quidditch field that morning, the Slytherin team waited one full hour for their captain to show up. After which, Adhara sent Greengrass to find out what was keeping Montague so long, while making the rest of her teammates run drills. It was, however, met with some resistance.

"Why would we listen to you?" growled Bletchley.

Adhara regarded him with an unbothered look. The beaters, Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be backing the boy up, but Malfoy kept to himself, as he had been doing since the beginning of the season. Quiet, avoidant, it was very unlike her cousin, but Adhara didn't want to meddle in things that wasn't her business, so she didn't question him. Besides, he might be acting this way because of his father.

She returned her attention to the clipboard in her hand, a copy of their training plan that Montague had given her. "You don't have to. But if we lose the match against Gryffindor because of your lack of training then Montague won't hesitate to kick you off. Actually," she twirled the pen in her hand, "please do. I'm quite sick of seeing your face."

Bletchley grumbled, throwing his keeper's gloves on the ground and making his way to run around the field. The other three didn't move. Adhara didn't bother addressing Crabbe and Goyle - a bunch of mindless sheeps that they were - and looked directly at the blond.

"That applies to you, too, Malfoy."

The boy didn't argue back - which, again, very out of character - and followed Bletchley, his sheeps following him.

Adhara already wasn't in a good mood. The new information about Harry's detentions worried her to no extent. With no solution in mind - she doubted Harry would want to tell anyone about the matter - she spent the whole night awake, unable to sleep.

There was no way to expose Umbridge without naming Harry, and there was no way anyone would believe the words of simply one student.

Meanwhile, Greengrass returned with a very displeased looking sixth year towing her.

"Practice is canceled," announced Greengrass.

Adhara frowned. "What?"

She turned to their captain, waiting for an explanation. The boy simply sat down on the bench, eyeing Greengrass up and down with a glare on his face.

"You need new gear."

The fourth-year huffed. "My father's not sending me any allowance unless I quit the team. I've got no money."

Montague didn't bother responding to that. He gestured at the other joys with his chin. "Go tell them to stop."

Greengrass rolled her eyes, strutting away.

Adhara stood right in front Montague, arms crossed over the clipboard.

Montague didn't bother looking up. "Apparently, our 'student organization' is illegal."

"Didn't you submit the form two days ago?"

He confirmed with a nod. "Apparently, Umbridge hasn't approved it, yet. So, this meeting is illegal."

Greengrass was rallying the other three boys. Bletchley threw a middle finger in her direction, and the girl whipped her wand out.

"And she found out?"

"Yup. She would've expelled me but since I had already submitted the forms, she only gave detention for a week."

Adhara stilled. Slowly, she turned her head away from the team, and looked at the captain.

"Detention...with Umbridge."

"Yeah? Why?"

Adhara shook her head.

Montague eyed her suspiciously for a bit longer before abruptly standing up. Seeing as the rest of the team still hadn't gathered, he shouted at them. "Oi! You useless gnomes! What's so difficult to understand about 'come here'?!"

Adhara continued to stare at the spot Montagne was occupying. She knew what Umbridge's detentions entailed. She could warn Montague, get him to avoid it at all cost.

But....but...

Harry wasn't going to do anything about the bloodquills. He was a fighter, but ironically, not when it came to protecting himself. He only fought for what was right.

Adhara, on the other hand, didn't see the point in fighting unless there was someone she wanted to protect.

The voice of one student may not mean much, but that of multiple may just make some sound. Adhara simply needed to find students who have had detentions with Umbridge, and who she could convince to speak up.

And she may have just found her first witness.

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"'Dumbledore's Army'? Seriously?"

Harry and Adhara watched their fellow schoolmates disarm each other. They were all paired up, and at least one of each pair was doing all right. Though, Millicent kept unapologetically disarming Neville, making Harry cringe every time the boy fell back.

There was a new face today, one that Harry hadn't expected to see but was pleased nonetheless. Astoria Greengrass was quite talented with the disarming charm.

"I wasn't going to oppose Dumbledore in front of everyone."

Adhara looked amused. "But you would in private?"

Harry didn't want to answer, but the thought of the man made his lip curl. And Adhara definitely caught on to his ire.

Whatever silence streak he had going on with her didn't last very long. Harry found it quite difficult to stay away from his sister, especially when he wasn't particularly that angry with her. The girl wasn't that different either, and decided to keep whatever opinions she had about Umbridge and the war to herself.

Though, Harry knew that wouldn't last very long.

"He hasn't been very present, has he?"

"Hmm. Took you a while to notice it."

"Oh, I've noticed it."

"Then what changed?"

Harry thought. Absently, he scratched the scar on his forehead.

"Not sure. But I trusted him a lot before. Relied on him, too."

Millie and Hermione exchanged opponents, which Harry thought was a good idea. Ron and Neville could practise together while the girls faced someone more challenging.

"Maybe," continued Adhara, "you're relying on someone else, now."

Harry's brows furrowed. He wasn't sure who she meant.

Seeing his confusion, Adhara rolled her eyes. She looked miffed that he didn't understand what she was implying.

"You know...Remus...and Sirius. Suppose there's no point in denying that..."

Harry grinned, this time he was the one who was amused.

"...they're trustworthy?"

A scowl made its way to Adhara's face. She crossed her arms.

"Did that hurt to say, Adz?"

"Fuck off."

Harry laughed, heartedly. He continued to rub his scar.

"You're doing that a lot."

"Hmm?"

Adhara pointed at forehead. "That. You normally do that when-"

"It's nothing," Harry said hurriedly.

Adhara didn't budge. "Last time you said that," she brought her finger down to his arm, "that was happening. Forgive me for not quite believing you."

Harry did not want to continue this conversation. He hasn't told her about the dreams, yet and wasn't planning on letting Adhara know anytime soon. He tried to stir the conversation elsewhere.

"Your chaser is quite good."

Adhara obviously didn't appreciate the change of topic, but didn't press.

"Did you invite her?"

She denied it. "She's friends with Roisin and the rest, apparently. Didn't see it coming, I won't lie to you."

Astoria Greengrass sent Katie Bell flying.

"She's good."

Adhara didn't make any further comment, upset with Harry still keeping things from her. Sometimes, Harry remembered the promise they made about no more secrets when they were younger, and how neither of them actually ever kept that promise.

Adhara crossed the room, over to Hermione and Millie, leaving Harry to make his rounds.

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Even with her years of practised disinterest, Adhara could not help but yelp when someone pulled her into a secluded corridor on her way to class. Immediately, she had her wand out, pushing the person against the wall and shoving her wand in their neck.

Adhara blinked, recognizing the person. "What the fuck?"

Montague didn't look so much as bothered by the wand. He simply glared at the girl.

"You knew," he stated.

In an instant, Adhara's confusion withered away. She pocketed her wand.

"What did she make you write?"

Montague was still frowning, but that didn't stop him from pulling his sleeve up, where there were faint red marks spelling out the sentence 'I must obey the rules.' He hadn't had many detentions, yet, so the lines weren't angry red like Harry's.

"Everyone knows about Potter's fights with Umbridge," continued Montague, nostrils flaring with anger, "he's had detention almost every day since the beginning of term. You must've known about the bloodquills. It's why you looked so pale when I told you I had detention, and yet you still-"

"Right." Adhara cut him off. "What are you planning on doing about it now?"

The boy was practically fuming. "What. Are. You. Talking. About?"

"Umbridge. What are you planning on doing to her?"

Montague remained silent.

"Because, you know I write for the Quibbler, right? Very anti-Ministry. And if we want Umbridge to be punished, we need to rely on public outrage, otherwise the Ministry will simply sweep this under the rug."

She took out an old copy of the Quibbler, one with an article she wrote last year where she called out the Prophet and shoved it in Montague's hands.

"So, be one of my witnesses."

Montague's eyes travelled over the article. He scoffed, looking up at Adhara, and crumbling the newspaper. "This is why you gave me no warning? You wanted me to go to detention, so that you could-"

"Enlighten me on how a warning would have changed the outcome?" questioned Adhara. "You would have to bear through the bloodquills regardless."

"I couldn't used some sort of potion-"

"Oh, please," scoffed Adhara, taking a step forward and pressing a finger in the boy's chest. "I know you, Graham Montague. And you like revenge. It's why you make those who lost you a game train harder. Not because you don't want to lose the next one, but because you want to punish them for losing the previous one."

Montague shoved her away, but Adhara didn't stop talking. Instead, she took his arm - the one with the scars - and held it up.

"Had you known about the bloodquills, you would want proof. And what better proof than one ingrained in your own skin?"

Montagne's mouth thinned. "Slight problem with your plan. Knowing all this, what made you think I'd actually help you?"

"Because you would be helping yourself."

"And if I had decided to get revenge myself."

"A better plan than mine? What could Umbridge possibly hate more than public humiliation?"

Montagne crossed his arms, but the furrow between his brows was disappearing.

"You used me."

"Upset?"

"Of course. But I'm also impressed."

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"You might want to talk to Greengrass, too," conceded Montague as Adhara was walking away.

"Why?"

"She had detention with Umbridge last week."

"What?"

He shrugged. "I went to see her before you. Apparently. She and three other classmates mouthed her off."

Astoria Greengrass seemed to take Adhara off guard every day.

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Adhara waited for the trio at the entrance of the Great Hall.

"Think you can block my shots, Weasley?" she quipped with a smirk. Despite the relentless bullying from the Slytherin house, Adhara knew Ron would understand that she was only teasing.

And he did, though his smile in response was quite wobbly. When Adhara raised a brow, Harry gestured towards the few Slytherins leaving the Hall, who passed by them snickering. Adhara noticed the golden badge adorning their chests.

"Cheering for the opposing team, are we?" she said suddenly, loud enough to make the green-tied students jump. "How am I going to tell my teammates?"

Adhara could feel the trio's - Harry, Ron and Hermione - gaze on her.

The students - two of them, third-years and walking with their arms entwined - paled.

One of them spoke up. "We - we're actually mocking him, you see. It's supposed to be insulting."

"By calling him a king? And wearing Gryffindor colours?"

"We - we - actually -"

"Could've at least made it silver. Why don't you spread the news? That the Slytherin team finds those badges quite insulting."

Meekly, both third-years nodded, scampering off.

"Thanks."

Adhara shrugged, facing the redhead. "You could wear one, too, you know? It'll wipe the smirk off their faces."

And with that, the boy finally gave a proper smile.

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Unfortunately, Adhara's message didn't get through everyone's head, especially since there were some Slytherin players - Malfoy, Bletchley, Crabe, Goyle and even Montague - who wore the badges themselves. Malfoy looked ecstatic, acting like his usual arseholish-self for the first time since September.

Gryffindor still ended up winning, though. Adhara seemed upset about it, but she was able to score some goals. She still respectfully shook the hands of Harry's teammates.

Malfoy on the other hand...

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said to Harry. "I've never I've never seen a worse Keeper...but then he was born in a bin .. did you like my lyrics, Potter?"

They had garnered attention. Players of both teams gathered around them. The captain - Graham Montague - observed the blond, eyes narrowed.

Adhara raised a brow. "You wrote the lyrics?"

"Been meek all year," scoffed Greengrass, "and you decided to break the silence spell to write a song?"

Malfoy glared at her, looking betrayed. He didn't stop his string of insults, though. "We wanted to write another couple of verses! But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see-"

"Talk about sour grapes," said Angelica.

"-we couldn't fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know-"

Fred and George were looking at him, too. Harry and Angelica held onto one of the twins, preventing them from jumping at Malfoy.

"You're one to talk about fathers, Malfoy," quipped Harry. "How's yours, by the way? Is he enjoying his stay at Azkaban?"

Malfoy jumped in his direction, but Montague held him back by the back of his collar.

"At least, I've got parents," growled Malfoy, "I don't need to sniff at the Weasley pigsty to remind myself of my muggle mother!"

Harry's mind went blank for a moment. Between one breath and another, his hold on George was gone, and his fist was colliding with Malfoy's stomach, and with Montague holding the boy in place, he couldn't even dodge it.

Someone pulled him back. Harry took in a breath and recognized the man, instantly. Confusion coloured his expression.

"Sirius?"

"Heya, Haz." The smile the man threw him was blinding, almost as though he wasn't holding his godson back from punching a student. He was wearing a Slytherin sweater.

"When did you get here?"

"They've been here," revealed Adhara who was standing in front of him. "Since the beginning of the match."

"They?" As he said that, Harry noticed Remus right behind Adhara, expression grim. "Oh."

"You hadn't noticed?"

"Was a bit preoccupied, thank you."

Madam Hooch was here in a flash, blowing on her whistle and demanding what was going on. Malfoy was on the ground, nose bloody. It seemed as though George had a go at the boy, too.

Montague was sneering at all of them, his own seeker included. Harry wondered why.

"I've never seen behaviour like it - back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!"

And they went, with Sirius and Remus following them, both still silent, though a comforting hand laid on his back that made Harry forced his hunched shoulders down. Adhara eyed him as he walked away.

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"Everyone," bellowed Montague, "at the tent! That includes you, Malfoy!"

The blond boy squawked, his hands covering his bleeding nose. "My nose is broken!"

"But are you dying?"

The beaters and the keeper crossed the pitch, groans following them as they awaited their captain's scolding. A lost game meant double the practices for Slytherin, and that was not something anyone looked forward to.

Greengrass lingered a bit. Seeing as Malfoy wasn't moving, and Montague looked as though he was about to give him his speech right here, Adhara stayed back. She waved the fourth-year girl away.

Still, Adhara tried to push Malfoy towards where the Slytherin tent was. "Walk, will you?"

Malfoy pushed her away. "I need to go to the Hospital Wing!"

"Perhaps, you should have thought of that before you threw your game away for a couple of jeers," said Montague. His tranquillity was a front, inside the boy was fuming. Adhara could see it, Malfoy could see it. Anyone who's ever been on the team with him could see it.

Malfoy fought back. "It was a plan! We were trying to throw Weasley off his game! And it worked, didn't it?"

"Worked? I don't recall winning the game, do you?"

Malfoy bowed his head, looking away.

"I wouldn't have cared if it was Crabbe, or Goyle," because Montagne really wouldn't. He wasn't angry at the incessant bullying - after all, he wore the pin too - he was mad that it cost him the game. "But perhaps if you had paid more attention to the snitch, Potter wouldn't have caught it before you!"

Malfoy gritted his teeth.

"Fuck off to the infirmary, then. I don't want to look at your face."

The boy stomped away.

Adhara had watched with arms crossed. She was impressed.

"Harsh."

The captain glared at her.

Adhara held her arms up. "I scored more than you. You can't say anything"

Her eyes travelled to the badge on the boy's chest. She walked up, and snatched it off. She held it up to him.

"This cost you the match. Perhaps, don't brandish it?"

Adhara pocketed the badge, and walked away.

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