Bab 65: Chapter 65
The last group consisted entirely of people who were on Draco's side in this. They would be ensuring that their own fathers heard of this latest injustice to the pure-blood way of life and, with any luck, their fathers would be able to assist Draco's father into restoring the status quo. It was, after all, how things were meant to be.
Not too far away from where Draco stood ranting, Pansy Parkinson was sitting in an armchair and staring at the orange flames that were crackling away merrily in the fire place. Draco's behaviour had her worried. She could tell that change was in the air and with the way that he was going Draco was unlikely to survive it.
Without Snape as their Head of House, Draco's behaviour would not be so readily overlooked as it had been before now and she had to wonder at the boy's ability to learn from his mistakes.
That day on the Hogwarts Express, Harry Potter had entered the prefects meeting and had told them exactly how things were now going to be. What he had told them had come straight from the Ministry itself but she and Draco had not paid attention to it. Then they and others had gotten themselves caught behaving in an unacceptable manner towards three of their fellow Slytherins. Potter had followed through on what he had told them would happen to any prefect found to be behaving inappropriately and she and Draco had both been reprimanded.
Pansy had kept her head down from then on, but Draco had pushed and pushed until his badge had been taken from him.
And yet, in his mind, it was the Board of Governors who were in the wrong. It was the Wizarding Examinations Authority. It was Harry Potter.
Not Draco. Never Draco.
"Father stepping down from the Board of Governors was the worst thing to ever happen to this place," Draco continued to rant "this place has been going to the dogs ever since."
Pansy got up and left the Common Room after that. She knew as well as anyone else that Daddy Malfoy had been forced to resign from the Board of Governors in disgrace at the end of their second year and she really couldn't listen to Draco prattle on about the injustice of that any more.
Up in her dormitory she sat down on her bed and leaned over to pull open the lid of her school trunk. It wasn't a standard school trunk, but one a charmed one which opened to reveal different contents depending on which lock you undid. Several of the compartments were empty, but she had one compartment for her school books and parchment, another two for her clothes, one for things that held value, such as jewellery or letters from home, and one that contained nothing but bottles of butterbeer.
It was this last compartment which she opened now. She took out a chilled bottle and popped open the top before pausing to look at the label on the side.
At the bottom of the label, in small, golden writing, were the words "Brewed by PBP Breweries Ltd."
Pansy knew full well what the PBP stood for – Potter, Bones and Parkinson. She did not know the specifics about how that brewery came into being; all she knew was that her father, like his father before him, refused to have anything to do with the company. Her grandfather's brother maintained control over the Parkinson family's interests in the company, but her father refused to take any money from what as obviously a highly profitable business venture.
Not for the first time in her life, Pansy wondered if this was utterly foolish of her father. The entire wealth that their family possessed likely originated from this company, but her father and grandfather had turned their backs on it rather than work with the Potter and Bones families.
She took a long drink from the bottle before swinging her legs up onto the bed and leaning against the pillows.
She had to wonder, if the time ever came, would she be able to look past all their differences and work with the last members of the Potter and Bones families? It was slowly looking like she would have to.
She took another drink and placed the half-drunk bottle onto her bedside table before sliding down the bed so that she could look up at the ceiling.
Times were changing. She would have to decide if she could truly be a cunning and ambitious Slytherin and roll with the changes and come out on top, or if she would cling to her upbringing and the morals of her family, like so many others in her house would, and hope that the changes would be crushed by the weight of the pure-blood movement so that the status-quo could be resumed.
Pansy didn't have an answer right now. All she knew was that Draco's way was quite clearly the wrong way.
Hermione was struggling to deal with the confliction that was coursing through her mind. Since the start of term everything had been going wrong for her. Worst of all was the fact that Harry hardly wanted anything to do with her. He was very angry with her and she found herself struggling to cope with the notion.
All she had done was do exactly what Professor Dumbledore had told her would be best for Harry's well-being. How could Harry be cross with her for that?
"Perhaps" said a little niggling voice of doubt in the back of her mind "Professor Dumbledore didn't know what was best for Harry."
"But he's Professor Dumbledore," Hermione would argue back "The Professor Dumbledore. He can't be wrong."
"Why not?"
"Because he's Dumbledore."
"Was he not wrong to give Ron a prefect's badge?"
This was something that Hermione really had to struggle with "He's giving Ron a chance."
"Why? He's clearly unsuited to the role. His grades are lacking and his attitude is all wrong."
Hermione could not argue with that thought. Giving Ron the position of prefect over Harry or even Neville just didn't seem right in her mind.
But doubting those in authority went against her very nature. She was sure that Professor Dumbledore must have had his reasons for making Ron a prefect, reasons that she would never understand, just like he must have had his reasons for asking her to not communicate with Harry over the summer and keep Hedwig locked up.
No, Professor Dumbledore had his reasons, and soon everything would come together and they would all understand.
And Harry would be her friend again.
But why, then, did she have these niggling doubts?
She rolled over on her bed and buried her face into her pillows. Hopefully everything would make sense soon.
Things were going very well for Dolores Umbridge. Her goals of improving things here at Hogwarts were already well underway with full backing from the Ministry and the Board of Governors. Harry Potter was doing a marvellous job of backing her up and after this latest debacle she was certain that the Ministry would be moving up their timescale in order to make her the High Inquisitor much sooner.
She could almost taste the new heights of her upcoming authority. Before long she would be dismissing incompetent staff left, right and centre, and Hogwarts would be filled with people who were not only good at their jobs but also who knew their place. Once Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and that oaf Hagrid were gone the castle would return to being the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, as it quite rightly should be.
She opened the drawer on her desk and took out a small box which contained several quills. Blood quills. She had brought them along with her with a mind to use them to punish students in detention but it was quickly coming to look as though she might not need them. Mr Potter had most of the prefects on his side now and had ways of dealing with those who stepped out of line. The students appeared to like him and appeared to be largely on his side, something that was keeping their behaviour in check.
Yes, it was good to be Dolores Umbridge right now. She had the ear of the Ministry. She had power at Hogwarts, and she had more on the way.
What could be better?
The tawny owl circled the manor once before spotting an open window and diving in through it. The room beyond was a study, and the master of the household was sitting at his desk, enjoying a glass of Ogden's finest fire-whiskey as he looked over some paperwork.
The owl landed on the desk and held out his leg expectantly. The blond haired man set his glass down and took the letter from his leg. At that point the owl wasted no time in taking flight and soaring out of the window. Barely a moment later the owl heard a roar of anger, and two green spells whizzed by it, barely missing.
The owl flew straight into a wooded area and landed on a tree branch, resolving to not move until all signs of life within the manor house ceased.
Lucius Malfoy turned away from his attempts to curse the delivery owl and stormed out of his study.
"Narcissa!" he bellowed to his wife "Get your coat! We're going to see the Minister!"
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