Hogwarts, Scotland
To say that the atmosphere in the school was chaotic was to put it mildly. Since the highly publicized escape of Dumbledore and the other supposed “traitorous” Order members (now being proclaimed by the Prophet as the greatest, and much more elegant, escape since Uurl the Last Goblin King had managed to smash his way through eight walls in a Ministry prison with only his head), Hogwarts had devolved into, at best, “free-form” teaching, and at worse, pure anarchy.
Just like the year before Umbridge had been installed as the acting headmaster of the school. Unlike last year however, thanks to Fred and George’s flashy exit, no one seemed to be heeding Umbridge’s long list of decrees, orders, and sanctions. In a matter of days a small resistance group had begun to unleash a bevy of pranks upon the school. At the scene of each of their attacks, they would write in graffiti style across the walls, Long Live the Twins! Leaving Filch to spend days scrubbing the paint off the corridors, paintings, and coats of armour.
Fudge’s power grab had not only lead to the seizure of Hogwarts, but as Umbridge had hinted earlier, a string of arrests across the country including several prominent members of the Ministry who were supposed ‘Order Sympathizers’.
Thankfully there was enough of a gap between arrests to alert a few of the other members. Molly and Arthur had managed to duck out the back and disapparate moments before their front door was kicked in, and Elphias Doge had been grabbed by Tonks and taken to headquarters a few minutes before he was supposed to go to the Ministry for a meeting.
Harry and the others found that over the next few days that most of these militaristic actions by Fudge remained unpublicized. Each morning Hermione received her Daily Prophet at breakfast and every time the articles proclaimed another victory for the Ministry. The paper was very clearly being what and how to publish its articles. Emblazoned on the front page the day after the seizure of Hogwarts was the massive headline declaring: Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge Goes to the Frontline to Protect Hogwarts Students.
The matter of going to school on a daily basis had become quiet an adventure in itself. Because nearly half of the faculty was now placed on a Ministry list of people to stun on sight, ministry officials under the order of Umbridge were teaching many of the classes. All of whom had no teaching experience what so ever.
Offensive Light Magic was completely removed from the curriculum, Care of Magical Creatures was now being taught by the school’s standby substitute for the class Professor Grubbly-Plank, and a small, portly man, named Charles Buckthorne was now teaching Transfiguration.
The most shocking appointment however came in the form of the new Potions Master.
Harry and Ron were begrudgingly going to their N.E.W.T. level potions class two days after Dumbledore’s flight. They had shown up a few minutes early and had taken to talking between themselves in the hallway.
“I wonder where Fred and George got off to after the arrests? I’m sure that Fudge issued a warrant for them as well. Wouldn’ve wanted to be the guys told to pick them up though.”
“I bet they got away in time otherwise it would’ve been in the paper. They only said they’d managed to capture Madam Bones and Emmaline Vance so far.” Harry said.
“What do you think we ought to do about the DA?” Ron asked for what had to have been the tenth time in so many hours.
Harry just shrugged, picking at the moss on the wall. He truthfully didn’t know. One part of him knew that he had to do something about what was going on, the other part of him knew that to do anything would get a large portion of the student body in serious trouble.
“I still can’t believe that Snape would save Hermione like that, it just seems too… too…”
“Nice?” Harry proffered.
“Yeah! I mean why would a slimy, greasy, git who’s hated us even before we set foot in his class save Hermione from being arrested by the Ministry?”
Harry agreed, it flew completely in the face of all his past actions but that was what made it such a serious sign. “I think he stopped her from talking because he knows that we’re going to have to be the one’s who gets Umbridge out of the school somehow,” Harry said finally voicing what had been his main worry since last night. He had absolutely no idea, nor much of a desire, to launch an attack on Umbridge and the Ministry, but it was slowly coming to him that it probably would have to happen.
“Of course we’re going to have to!” Ron exclaimed, “I mean now that the Order’s had to go completely underground who else is there left to do it?”
Harry looked up grimacing, “Well let’s not rush into it, we need to think this out as long as possible… plus, how would he know about the DA in the first place, no one outside of it knows about it!
“It’s Snape, I’m fairly certain he could find anything out he wanted to. Maybe he just let a little Veritaserum fall into someone’s cup or just used Occlumency.”
Down the hall the doorway to the potions classroom opened and they saw a group of third years leaving, their faces showing a relief to be free from the classroom.
“And remember! Homework for tomorrow will be a foot of parchment on the various forms that Restoration Elixir may be administered.”
Ron looked up in pure shock at Harry, together they said, “Percy?”
Sure enough it was the eldest Weasley son, now turned lacky for the Minister, Percy. He was dressed in a suit, not the usual robes of a professor, and his trademark Weasley red hair was combed back into a harsh part. Other than the occasional correspondence to warn Ron of the dangers of being friends with Harry, and awkward run ins with his father at the Ministry, Percy had essentially broken off all contact with his family since last year.
Percy had heard Ron and Harry’s simultaneous exclamation and looked up. “You better get in class, you’ll be late in another minute.” That single sentence, completely void of any emotion, set the tone for the rest of the class.
If they had thought that being taught N.E.W.T. level potions by Professor Snape was bad, then what Percy was doing would be considered torture by the Wizengamot. It was without a doubt the longest hour and a half class of Harry’s career at Hogwarts.
Never once did Percy’s voice change in tempo, beat, or inflection. Umbridge could have found a better teacher in a rock than what Percy was capable of. He may have at one point been the exceptional and flawless student that Molly Weasley had adored but somewhere in his three-year stint at the Ministry he had lost all aptitude for potions. Perhaps it was his constant fumbling through piles of notes, or the fact that it had become clear that, just like D.A.D.A., the Ministry was intent on sanitizing the class of all “dangerous” information such as how to actually brew the potions, but Harry left feeling as if he’d just unlearned everything that had been taught to him the past two years.
“It’s a good thing I don’t like Percy,” Ron said as they ran out of the classroom after being assigned a reading they’d done two years earlier. “Because that was an absolute pile of shite. I can’t believe I’m going to say it but Snape was a better teacher than him! And did you notice how he didn’t even once look in our direction, it was like we had the plague!”
“Nothing surprises me with your brother, it was absolute rubbish.” Harry said loosening his tie.
“I have to agree with you, Snape was a thousand times better.” A voice said from behind them.
Harry and Ron turned to face the seventh year Slytherin known as Blaise Zabini. Blaise played on the Slytherin Quidditch team and had, on occasion, be known to associate himself with Malfoy.
Ron looked at Harry, tilting his head in confusion as if the doorknob had just tried to talk to him.
“Well of course you’d say that you’re one of his students,” Harry retorted.
“It might do you well to know that not all Slytherins are raving fans of Snape’s let alone members of the Dark Lord’s little fan club Potter,” Blaise stated coolly.
“So you’re telling me that you aren’t really a Slytherin?” Ron snorted.
“Yeah, I am. I was placed in it because our year had too many people sorted into Ravenclaw, even for magic to handle, so I was placed into Slytherin by Dumbledore…”
“Sounds like something he’d do…” Harry interjected.
“I absolutely hated it, I was a complete outcast because I didn’t believe in the whole ‘purity of blood’ bullshit. It wasn’t until my third year that anyone even acknowledged that I existed, and that was just because I could play a decent game of Quidditch.”
“And you’re talking about bullshit, what is this? You expect us to buy it?” Ron said nastily.
Blaise held up his hands backing away, “I wasn’t trying to pull anything on you guys, I just was trying to talk to you two. It’s been a boring couple of years having to listen to Malfoy talk endlessly about his family’s supposed superiority.”
“Well that part we know’s true,” Harry said, then paused looking over at Ron who was still glaring suspiciously at the Slytherin. “…Well if you want to you’ll have to walk, we’re supposed to meet our friends at the Great Hall.
“Okay, I was going there anyway.”
“So what do you think of this whole Ministry thing?” Ron said trying to extend the olive branch as Harry had.
“I think that it’s fucking nuts, no government should be able to do this, it completely flies in the face of the hundreds of years of Ministry evolution that had formed what it was until a few days ago.”
Harry raised his eyebrows, “So you’re a Ravenclaw from Slytherin and you know politics? Why haven’t you said anything to us before this?”
“Because I would have been crucified by Malfoy had his fucking little club of Death Eaters if I talked to anyone outside of the house. Plus, I had worked hard on my disguise as the slow, stupid, Quidditch playing Slytherin.” Blaise stopped in the entrance to the Great Hall, “There is a reason I wanted to talk to you though…” He looked around nervously.
“And that is…” Harry said prompting him.
“I’ve been hearing rumours about the club you’re running, the one you got into trouble for last year. I heard that you’ve started it up again and I want to help out.”
Ron laughed, “I knew that you didn’t just want to talk to us, you’re trying to get a mole inside the DA!”
“No I’m not,” Blaise said quietly but with ferocity, “I want to help out, I know I can help you guys.”
“How?” Harry asked, even if he was lying he was at least impressed by the passion with which Blaise was talking.
“My dad works for a defence company who is hired by various companies and governments to keep whatever it is they have, safe. I can get info and…other things for the DA. Let me owl my dad and ask him for something, and when I get it that’ll show you that I’m not lying. You don’t have to tell me anything until then. I just want to know that I have the chance to prove myself.” He stopped catching his breath; clearly he’d been thinking over in his head for some time now and had rushed it out to make sure his whole speech was heard. He looked around them again then leaned in and whispered, “I’ve heard you guys talking about doing something around here. There’s no way you can beat her without more help. I can get it for you.”
Harry looked over at Ron who nodded, “well I guess we’ll give you a chance. Get hold of your dad and let us know when you have something to show us. For now though we should keep this quiet, don’t tell anyone that you’ve joined, and don’t try and make contact with the DA until we’ve cleared it or else you’ll get the shock of a lifetime. Don’t forget that Umbridge is back no so we’re going to have to be even more cautious than last time.”
“Of course, I might be acting like a dumb fucker, but I sure as hell ain’t one, Umbridge is bad news all around. Why do you think I’m trying to help you?”
“Well thanks for talking to us, let us know when you’ve talked to your dad okay?” Harry said patting him on the shoulder.
“Thanks again mate, I won’t let you down.” Blaise gave a curt salute to Ron and Harry then headed off to the Slytherin table. His years old disguise slowly took over with every step, his shoulders growing more hunched and his head tilting down more and more.
“He might curse like a sailor but you’ve gotta hand it to him he sure has his act down,” Ron said heading over to the Gryffindor table. “I can’t imagine ‘Mione’s going to love his language.”
“She’ll go mental,” Harry agreed, “Let’s keep this between us right now though. It might be nothing and we shouldn’t let it get out if it is.” But in Harry’s heart he knew that Blaise was sincere and now faced a new set of problems; it was no longer if they should try to stage a coup, but when and how.
