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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