His Weapon
“Hell, Ron. Your mother almost ate half of your face” Harry said. He was genuinely shocked and couldn't help mocking his best friend.
The Weasleys, Harry and Hermione had just got on the Hogwarts Express. The train was leaving the Kings Cross station in five minutes, something that really bothered Hermione. She was used to arriving early everywhere, especially when it came to traveling. The twins had delayed them, since they had started packing their things just an hour before leaving Grimmauld Place. Then, Mrs Weasley had spent about ten minutes kissing Ron’s cheeks. She kept insisting that Ron needed to behave and set an example for younger boys, that he was no longer a child and now had bigger responsibilities. She also gave a small talk to her other sons.
“I don’t want to receive any letters complaining about you two, you hear me?”
“We’ll try our best”
“Yes, mom. At least for the first week”
Only when they left their luggage in the compartment, Hermione felt like she could breathe again. Harry kept laughing at Ron.
“I was telling her to stop,” Ron said, angry and embarrassed “I don’t know why she treats me as if I am gonna make something explode just by existing”
“Well, you got yourself that reputation after stealing your fathers car and almost getting you and Harry killed” Hermione intervened. She was amused by Ron’s reactions.
Ron immediately looked at her and raised his index in front of her face.
“We were set up. We wouldn’t have made it to Hogwarts”
“Someone would’ve picked you up”
“We had the car. Why should we have missed the first day when we had a car?”
“Because you were twelve?”
“So what? I…” Ron started stumbling on his words “We… You know what? I don’t owe you explanations”
When the train’s whistle blew and its gears started to turn, the Gryffindor prefects headed for the Prefects Compartment, which was in the front carriages. Hermione was curious and somewhat excited to see it. She imagined it would be bigger and fancier than the rest. She also wondered who the other prefects would be.
After a few minutes walking, they found the door. Hermione knew it was charmed to only let prefects and heads open it. Ron made the honors and turned the knob, revealing what was on the other side. Hermione entered first in the empty space. The rest had not arrived yet. She gave a quick look around, pleased with what she was seeing. As she had imagined, the compartment was much bigger than the others. The seats looked more comfortable too, and there was a giant table in the middle. For organizations and reunions, Hermione thought.
There was a sort of vending machine in the corner, which made Ron really happy. He closed the door and ran towards the food.
“Hermione, these are free!” he said, euphoric “Look! Pumpkin juice, pastries, chocolate! We are bloody aristocrats!”
“Ron, calm down,” Hermione raised her eyebrows. Ron was stuffing his arms with food “You’re gonna get sick. This ride lasts six hours, you’ll have time to eat”
The redhead examined the food on his arms and rolled his eyes. He started putting things back in the machine.
“You’re no fun, you know?”
“You’ll thank me when we arrive at the castle. I’m sure you want to leave room for dinner”
Ron decided not to answer, because he knew she was right. When he was comfortable with his selected amount of food — a glass of pumpkin juice and a chocolate frog — he sat next to his friend.
Ron had taken a few bites before the door opened again. A girl with green and silver robes stood on the door, looking around with a disgusted grimace.
“Well, it’s not nice to see your mouth all dirty, Weasley. You could show some respect”
The girl entered and seated down in front of Hermione and Ron. The Gryffindor witch analyzed her. She was skinnier than she remembered. Her hair was longer, it reached just below her shoulders. Her face had sharpened a little, which made her look more like an adult and less like a child. She looked different, but she also looked as stupid as ever.
“Turns out, Parkinson, that I don’t respect you” Ron said. His mouth was still full, so he began to chew noisily with his mouth open. The melted chocolate was sticking to his teeth and tongue and making a wet, chewy sound.
“Stop that now, Ron” Hermione said, disgusted.
“Yes, you better listen to your mudblood. You don’t want to make her upset”
“Maybe I’ll just stuff the rest of this frog in your ugly mouth, you fu…”
“Ignore her, Ronald,” Hermione said, crossing her arms. She wasn’t intimidated in the least “She just wants us to react. That useless brain of hers can’t think of other way to entertain itself”
Pansy Parkinson offered Hermione a stale smile. Then, she crossed her legs and raised an eyebrow.
“So you two are prefects. Shouldn’t surprise me, a mudblood and her blood-traitor slave. You’re the best representation of what Gryffindor is”
“Snape has also been accurate for Slytherin. Let 's see…” Hermione examined Pansy, as if she was trying to reach a hard conclusion “We’ve already got the brainless twit. The boy must be an arrogant jerk who tells you what to do, since you’re incapable of thinking. I’m guessing Malfoy”
Pansy stopped smiling, which proved Hermione that she was right.
“Of course it’s Malfoy,” Hermione said, smiling. “He didn’t want to come here with you. He’ll be late just for the sake of leaving you alone in the reunion, he wants you to do everything”
“You stop right there, bitch…”
They were interrupted by the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw prefects, who all arrived together. They were Michael Corner, Padma Patil, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot.
After noticing there was only a Slytherin prefect left, they decided to start the meeting. They organized how they would patrol the Hogwarts Express.
“How many of us should patrol in the same shift?” Michael Corner asked. He had taken the lead, writing everything they were saying in a piece of parchment.
“It 's 11:20. We’ll arrive at Hogsmeade at 17:00,” Hermione said “We’re eight prefects, so each one should patrol a total of three hours. We can divide ourselves in groups of four”
“Sounds good. So, for example, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff could do their shifts together, and Gryffindor and Slytherin could do the same”
“Hell, no,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes “Let’s mix”
“Alright…” Michael Corner paused, thinking. He started writing again “We could do this arrangement: First and second hour, Gryffindor. First, second and third, Hufflepuff. Third, fourth and fifth, Ravenclaw. Fourth, fifth and sixth, Slytherin. Gryffindor would also do the sixth hour”
Everyone agreed and wrote down their shifts.
“It’s done, then. I think it’d be good to meet here with the couples we have to exchange with. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff should start patrolling now. Pansy, you go look for your partner and tell him what we’ve agreed”
Patrolling wasn’t as tedious as Hermione had imagined. She got to see the train from end to end, which was always something interesting. She also liked the feeling of being responsible for maintaining the order. It made her feel like she was much older. However, she didn’t actually do much. In that first shift, she only had to confiscate an explosive sugar ball from a group of second year Slytherins, but that was good. Above all, she was relieved that she hadn’t bumped into a sex scene in any compartment.
She and Ron spent the rest of the ride with Harry, and they noticed their friend was troubled. Ever since Voldemort had reemerged, Harry had been having nightmares. Very strange nightmares. Hermione knew that that couldn’t mean anything good, and she was afraid that Harry would obsess over those visions.
Harry showed them a picture Sirius had just given to him before getting on the train. The picture featured a large group of people smiling for the camera.
“These are all members of the original Order,” he said in a dark tone “Most of them are dead”
Hermione looked at every face. She didn’t want any of them to be forgotten. She especially focused on a couple whose faces were familiar. She soon realized they were Neville’s parents. He was just like his mother.
“Malfoy didn’t show up for the prefects’ meeting” Ron said, remembering what Harry had said about paying attention.
“Malfoy’s a prefect?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows “Why didn’t he show up?”
“Avoiding his responsibilities like the spoiled prat he is,” Ron said with contempt.
“I saw him while patrolling. He was with his friends in a compartment. It didn’t appear to me that he was doing anything suspicious,” Hermione said. She looked at the time, and it was 14:12 “ His shift started ten minutes ago, however”
“And we have to patrol with him and Parkinson for the last hour… I hope we can just ignore them” Ron sighed and rested his face on his hands.
Hermione hoped for the same. When the time started approaching, she and Ron headed again for the Prefects' Compartment. Ron started eating a cauldron cake while they waited for their Slytherin partners.
Five minutes passed, and Hermione started thinking they wouldn’t come.
“Seriously, they don’t care for rules. What was Snape thinking…”
“He was thinking about how Lucius Malfoy would beat his ass if he didn’t favor his son,” Ron said. He was fighting the temptation not to grab another cake.
“Yeah, well. I won’t wait for them any longer”
She approached the door, but just as her fingers grabbed the knob, another hand opened from the outside. She gasped, surprised by the sudden movement. Hermione was now centimeters away from someone’s torso.
"Step back," Malfoy said. Hermione had almost collided with him.
Hermione immediately stepped away from him. He entered the compartment completely unbothered, and Pansy Parkinson followed him. She glared at Hermione as she passed her. The Gryffindor witch waited a few seconds in case they would say something, but, of course, they didn’t.
“You’re late,” Hermione finally said, crossing her arms.
Malfoy had approached the vending machine to pick up a couple of mint flavored licorice wands. He didn’t look at Hermione when he answered.
“Late to what? You’re the ones who haven’t started their shift”
“We agreed to meet here when others started their shift,” Ron said, frowning.
Malfoy looked at Parkinson, as if questioning if that was true. She nodded.
“Well, Pansy didn’t tell me. Her fault”
“No. Your fault” Hermione said “You didn’t come to the meeting. If you didn’t get the information, that’s on you”
Malfoy turned around and met Hermione’s eyes. He maintained eye contact as he took an aggressive bite of one of his licorice wands. The Gryffindor girl could see that Malfoy had changed through the summer, just like Pansy. He looked older, there was something different about his gaze and his way of moving around.
“Still rigid and unlikeable,” Malfoy said, dragging each syllable. Hermione narrowed her eyes; he was still a childish jerk, despite looking older “There’s only one thing worse than a mudblood: a bitchy one”
“Still daddy’s puppet, I presume” Hermione counterattacked, raising an eyebrow “It’s about time you start developing your own personality. We’re bored”
There was silence. Hermione expected him to get mad, like he always did when someone mentioned his father. She expected him to wrinkle that fine nose of his into a crazy angry face. But Malfoy didn’t do anything. He just kept looking at her with that indifferent expression on his face, as if he hadn’t listened to any word.
“You’re pathetic” Pansy was the one who responded, instead. She gave Hermione an unfriendly, lopsided smile.
The silence remained, and there was so much tension in the air that Hermione could have cut it with her wand.
“Anyway” Ron said, in an attempt to control the situation “It’ll be better if we divide. Who will patrol the front of the train?”
“I’ll patrol the end part” Malfoy looked away and headed for the door. He seemed to be done with their spontaneous meeting “You do whatever you want”
Pansy followed him immediately, so the Slytherins were gone in the blink of an eye. Hermione stared at the floor, processing the interaction that had just happened.
“He was acting weird,” Ron said, reading her friend’s mind. He sounded confused “What’s up with the damn ferret?”
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t read much into it,” Hermione said “And we shouldn’t tell Harry about it. There was nothing weird enough to be worth telling”
“Maybe he’s tired or whatever,” Ron agreed “But it was weird, he didn’t insult me once. When has that happened before?”
“Yeah, it’s weird… Let’s drop it,” Hermione shook her head and went to grab the doorknob again “I guess we’ll patrol the front, then”
The hour flew by quickly, and a couple of minutes before arriving at Hogsmeade, the prefects decided to meet again in the compartment to write down what they had confiscated and what they needed to communicate to the teachers, if there was something at all. This time, neither Pansy nor Malfoy came.
“If they continue to ignore their duties like this, I’ll report them,” Michael said, annoyed “We haven’t even made it to Hogwarts and they already don’t care”
The ride from Hogsmeade to the castle felt lighter. While on the carriage, Hermione appreciated the soft breeze caressing her skin. Then, she started to realize that she was pretty hungry. She hadn’t eaten much in the train, just a couple of pumpkin pastries, so she began fantasizing about the feast waiting for them in the Great Hall.
Sitting at the Gryffindor table again made Hermione smile. There was no denying that Hogwarts made her feel like all the fatal problems they were facing just evaporated as they passed the doors. She knew their problems were still very much real, but somehow she wasn’t as anxious as she was outside. It made sense, though. School routine made her feel like she was in control. And Dumbledore was there. He was their shield.
Harry and Ron also looked automatically relaxed, talking and eating as if nothing was wrong. The three of them had noticed, however, that some students were staring at Harry. Even people from the Gryffindor table were whispering and visibly talking about him. It was disappointing that people would rather swallow anything they read in an article than actually ask Harry about what was happening. It didn’t help that the Daily Prophet had taken an advantage from Harry’s incident with underage magic to worsen his image. This whole plot was pure and obvious harassment, and no one seemed to mind it.
“I’ve lived with the Dursleys my entire childhood. I can deal with a bit of bullying” Harry said to his friends, downplaying the issue.
After the Sorting Hat ceremony concluded, it was time to sing the loathsome Hogwarts School Song. When the music started, Hermione searched for Fred with her eyes. He was already looking at her. He and George were singing their hearts out, as if they were front row in a concert. Fred pointed at Hermione dramatically, and she fought hard to hold her laughter.
Finally, Hermione’s favorite moment of the feast began. Dumbledore’s welcome speech always managed to lift her spirits and fill her with motivation for the new school year. Hermione wondered if he would mention or even just imply something about Voldemort’s return. She listened very carefully while he addressed the teachers that accompanied him at the table. He announced there was a new professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, which surprised some students. They had thought the real Alastor Moody would try it again this year. Instead, a woman had replaced him. Her name was Dolores Umbridge. The headmaster didn’t extend the topic, but just when he was about to change the subject, the woman stood from her seat.
Hermione narrowed her eyes as the new professor walked past Dumbledore. She was half his height, but managed to have a strong presence. Maybe it had to do with the fact that her clothes, from head to toe, were bright pink, and her heels made a loud hammering sound against the floor. There, closer to the students than Dumbledore was, she started speaking. Hermione already disliked her smile.
“Thank you, Headmaster. Ah, how utterly charming it is to see your eager faces from up here,” she started. Her voice was pretty high “I am Professor Dolores Umbridge. I am flattered to be among these walls today. Hogwarts is well known for its history of tradition and excellence, and I’m sure you’re living up to those values!”
The woman paused and sighed, as if she was moved by her own speech. She wouldn’t stop turning her head from one side of the hall to the other, making sure everyone was paying attention. That gave Harry the time to quickly whisper.
“She was at my hearing. She’s a member of the Wizengamot”
“However,” she continued. Hermione caught the brief, subtle glare she sent Harry “It’s true that even the most talented students can falter without the proper guidance. We always need a light to show us the way in a forest of dark ignorance. I shall be your light this year. With a bit of diligence and obedience, we can make this school year simply… delightful. And best of all, we’ll learn that actions have consequences. Good, and bad”
She kept talking a few minutes more about decorum and order. When she finished, she let out a strange, high giggle and turned on her heels. Dumbledore started an awkward round of applause to fill the silence and everyone immediately focused on eating and talking again.
“What the hell was all that about?” Ron asked, confused.
Hermione's ears had started to burn. The gears in her brain were spinning so fast that she feared smoke would come out of them. Harry was looking at her, as he probably had thought the same as her.
“That was the Ministry saying hello,” Harry said, clenching his jaw “Of course they were going to try and control Hogwarts too…”
“Merlin, they’re obsessed. Why so much effort?” Ron rested his chin on his hand, rolling his eyes.
“It 's clear now” Hermione said, looking tense “This is proof. Their commitment to destroy Harry’s credibility and reputation is not fueled by wanting to calm the population. The Ministry knows what’s going on”
“And they’ve chosen a side” Harry added.
“So they’ve chosen You-Know-Who?” Ron said, his body suddenly rigid “Why?”
“Because they have no choice,” Hermione said “To begin with, there are Death Eaters working at the Ministry, and they hold important positions”
“So he has political power…”
“Something that he didn’t have before,” Harry said, repeating Sirius’ words “His new weapon”
Hermione looked around, examining the faces she came across. There was a different atmosphere now. People had divided in groups and were talking in a quieter voice. She presumed all of them were commenting on the weird speech they had just listened to. Hermione saw a lot of students frowning, confused as they didn’t understand why this new Professor Umbridge had said all those things about behaving or facing consequences.
Bad behavior had never been an issue that Dumbledore had ever drawn attention to. The houses’ points were a tool to regulate that, anyway. So what was different this year? What had changed? That was what a lot of them were asking themselves, and that was why they were looking at Harry again. Harry saying that Voldemort had reemerged was different. That was the change.
“I hope people aren’t stupid enough to blame you for this lunatic” Ron said, as he had noticed the looks too.
“Maybe it’s too soon to call her a lunatic. We don’t know what she’ll do yet…” Hermione pointed out “Maybe she just likes intimidating people, like Snape”
“No. She’s absolutely nuts. Her clothes are all pink and she wears that psycho smile on her ugly face,” Ron nodded, convinced of his words “If You-Know-Who is behind this, be prepared to see blood”
“Blood? That’s not allowed” Hermione said immediately. There was no confidence in her words, though.
“Who cares. The Ministry is poisoned, rules don’t exist now” Harry said aggressively. He was fidgeting with his fingers “She’ll make them up along the way. Anything just to keep us quiet”
Hermione rapidly grabbed her pumpkin juice and forced it down her throat within seconds. She was starting to feel really overwhelmed by the situation, so she tried to focus on something else. Automatically, her eyes landed on the furthest table, at the other side of the Great Hall. There they were, the Slytherin students, talking calmly as if no weird speech had been made. Because it wasn’t weird for most of them. They knew exactly what was happening and were very excited for it. Hermione specifically looked for Malfoy, and she saw him talking to Theodore Nott. He didn’t look happy, didn’t look mad. He had to be talking about the weather to have such a neutral expression on his face. But he definitely didn’t look surprised, confused or upset, unlike students from other houses. And that was enough for Hermione to resent him.
That night, Hermione tried her best to fall asleep. She needed to be focused the first day, it looked like classes wouldn’t be easy to endure. Also, she needed to establish a steady routine for her piano practice, alongside studying musical theory. Hermione only had three months before her Grade 8 exam simulation, which she would take on Christmas break. If she passed it, she could take the actual exam in June, which meant that her next goal would be diploma levels. It was a big deal for her.
The next day, fifth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws showed up to Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was the first period of the day, so at least they would be done with it early. Professor Dolores Umbridge received the students with that strange, sugarcoated smile of hers. She did a weird thing with her eyebrows when she smiled. It shaped her face into a look of tenderness, as if she was dealing with babies instead of teenagers.
“She is wearing pink. Again. It’s her thing,” Ron whispered to Hermione “What sane person exclusively wears pink clothes?”
Hermione didn’t answer, as she agreed with her friend.
“Ah, how excited I am to be with you this morning!” Umbridge squeezed her hands together “You all look so clever. Let’s see what you have to give”
Now that she was closer, Hermione could see what a lot of people had been commenting in the common room after dinner. Umbridge’s facial features were similar to those of a toad. In some sense, it was funny that she would wear a frilly dress, heels and a tight bow, while her face was anything but refined or elegant. Everything about her seemed exaggerated and utterly out of place. Yet, she acted in the opposite way. She aimed for order and sobriety. The dissonance was huge.
“Now, before we begin,” the professor’s sickeningly sweet voice echoed in the room “Certain changes have been declared in this year’s curriculum. We will not be needing to use our wands or spells in this class”
Students wanted to express their confusion and disbelief but, for some reason, they limited themselves to share looks. They waited for her to elaborate the information.
“We will focus on the theory. Nothing else is needed,” she added “For your safety, of course. If you study hard, you will know everything you need to pass your O.W.L exam with excellent scores”
“I’m sorry, professor, but… How will we know how to use the spells we’re studying if we don't perform them?” Michael Corner asked timidly. He sensed, just like everyone, that he needed to be careful with his tone.
Professor Umbridge looked in his direction, giggled and approached him. She stared at him for a while, and then she brought her index finger to Michael’s head and started playing with one of his dark locks. Hermione’s eyes widened.
“Sweet boy…” she said softly. Michael’s cheeks were now visibly burning “Why would you need to perform any of these spells? Who would want to hurt such a beautiful face?”
She kept looking him in the eyes and twisting his hair. The Ravenclaw boy just looked down. They stayed like that for a few seconds, and then, Umbridge slowly lowered her hand and walked away.
“These are concepts," she said. She was no longer looking at Michael "Things that exist and you need to know. It doesn’t mean you have to learn their use, please… That would put you at unnecessary risk. Not under my watch”
Hermione took a quick look at her peers. They were alternating confused and worried glances between the professor and the Ravenclaw prefect. Michael didn’t react, he had decided not to make eye contact with anybody. Hermione knew he felt humiliated. Just like Umbridge had intended to.
As Umbridge introduced them to the methods and contents they would be seeing, the unease in the classroom deepened. Hermione felt a growing sense of dread in her chest. She couldn’t stand the condescending tone on Umbridge’s voice and how she talked to them as if they were clueless idiots. She made them open their books and stay quiet while she gave a monologue. They could tell how much she enjoyed hearing herself.
An hour went by, and the class was finally over. The moment they stepped outside, Hermione felt the fury irradiating from her friends’ bodies.
“Great. She wants to make us useless” Ron spitted.
“She couldn’t be more obvious. She can’t even pretend she’s nice” Harry said.
“Yeah, if she’s such a creep, people won’t take her seriously. That favors us, though. Maybe everyone will stop seeing you as the bad guy” Ron raised an eyebrow.
“For sure. I don’t think people are that naive” Hermione nodded “But Umbridge is not stupid. If she’s not being nice, it’s because she doesn’t need to. She’s letting us realize the power she holds. She’s telling us that she can do whatever she wants with us”
The rest of the day went on in a more pleasant and familiar way. Even Potions felt like a blow of fresh air, just because of the predictability. Snape could be ruthless and very cruel with his words, but at least he limited himself to that. He had never abused his power to physically intimidate a student, but Umbridge had done the very first day with no remorse. For a moment, Hermione visualized Snape playing with her curls and calling her a sweet girl. She felt a chill that shook her shoulders. It was a disgusting image. She felt deeply sorry for Michael.
For those first days, Umbridge was in everybody’s mouth. Students’ first impressions were unsurprisingly terrible. Very few people liked her, and those who did were all from Slytherin. That was understandable too. Slytherins were used to listening to abusive people. They had a thing for that. Surely Umbridge reminded them of their parents.
Opinions about Harry hadn’t changed, though. In fact, people looked at him as if he had brought Umbridge to the castle in his trunk. Many students felt like the Ministry’s decision was making everyone pay for Harry’s sins. They didn’t want to be seen near him or be related to his ideas. Hermione knew it wouldn’t last long, but Harry was not made of steel. She could see that his fists were usually clenched in rage, and his eyes were drooping with the pain of rejection.
Only the day that she finally sat in front of the old piano hidden in the school, Hermione disconnected from her thoughts. With a quick spell, she dusted the keys. Her fingers were desperate to play something, she would worry about studying later.
However, when she played the first chords, she immediately froze her hands and frowned.
“No, please. Don’t tell me…”
She tried again just in case she had imagined it, but she realized with frustration that something was wrong. Some keys had a loud, shrill sound, as if she were hitting them hard when she played them. Hermione swore. She knew that happened due to a lack of use. Now that she remembered, she hadn’t played a lot during the last months of her fourth year. Helping Harry with the Triwizard tournament had taken a lot of her time. The piano probably had gotten dirtier than she’d expected.
She snorted in despair. The conversation with Fred in Grimmauld Place came to her mind as a slap. Muggle pianos needed maintenance. Now, who was going to fix it for her? Because she certainly had never done it. She didn’t know where to begin.
The piano was old, it was a matter of time that it would start failing. It was not as if another person had taken good care of it before Hermione got her hands on it. Its faded dark wood beared the marks of many years of neglect. The piano had arrived tuned to the castle, but they had left it there to rot. As if it was a sculpture, or something that could be stocked and abandoned.
Hermione tried to swallow her anger as she closed the lid of the piano. She’d have to look for some sort of solution. Just for the sake of not worrying about it.
For now, she'd have to leave it there. Guess she had to go back to the Ministry's regime with no music to console her. She hoped that her patience wouldn't run out.
It was only the first week.
Interesting things will happen soon. As for now, enjoy this context focused chapter.
Love, Violeta