Chapter Nineteen

UnExpected

by Amerie



'BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

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

An organization, 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 Dolores Umbridge.)

No student organization, 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 organization, 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.'

“This isn’t a coincidence,” Harry nearly snarled. “She knows.”

Ron and Harry stood before the intruding sign on the notice board in the common room. Feeling as though the large black letters were smirking at them, knowing something it shouldn’t.

“She can’t,” Ron countered back.

“I wonder if Hermione’s seen this,” Harry muttered looking toward the door of the girl’s dormitory.

“We should let her know,” Ron said already making his way over.

The redheaded wizard made it six steps up the spiral stairway before a loud, wailing sound pierced the air, and the stone steps merged to form one slippery slide.

“I don’t think we’re allowed to go up there,” Harry grinned at this friend, who now lay rumpled on the floor.

“I didn’t know that could happen. Its not fair!” Ron complained, rising to his feet with a little help from Harry. “How come Hermione’s allowed to go into our dormitory, and we’re not?”

Swooping neatly down the makeshift slide, Hermione rose to her feet and answered his question. “It’s an old-fashioned school rule. It says in Hogwarts A History, that the founders believed girls to be more trustworthy than boys. Why were you going up there anyway?”

“To show you this,” Ron told her, dragging her to the notice board.

Hermione read over the sign quickly, her face melting from one of curiosity to that of worry.

“Someone must’ve told her,” Ron bit out.

“They couldn’t ’ve,” she muttered.

“You’re so naive. Not everyone’s all noble and trustworthy like--”

“I put a jinx on the parchment we all signed Ron,” Hermione interrupted. “If someone did tell Umbridge we’d know exactly who they are, and believe me, they would regret it.”

“Why? What’ll happen . . . ” Ron trailed off when an idea suddenly struck him. His face turning red, and his voice coming out cold. “What if it was someone who didn’t sign the parchment.”

Harry caught onto his friends implication, and all the air seemed to have escaped his lungs.

“Buffy,” Hermione lowly concluded. A shot of betrayal running through her eyes.

“She must’ve heard more than we realized,” said Ron.

“B-but how? She was too far away.”

“I don’t know, but it’s more than a coincidence. She was in the Hogs Head, she didn’t sign the parchment, and--AND she was a Slytherin. It all adds up.”

Unfortunately, it did all add up. No, no! He can’t think that way. Buffy wouldn’t do something like this, and Hermione was right, Buffy was too far away to hear anything. Harry felt like his brain was pounding against his skull. Buffy couldn’t have done it. She couldn’t have. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he was trying to convince himself instead of denying it.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, wanting to know his opinion.

“I, uh . . . I don’t know,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes in questioning for a moment, but didn’t push it. “We should probably head down to breakfast. See if this has been posted in all of the other houses.”

Which evidently it was. As Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way into the Hall, there was more chatter and movement than what would be considered everyday. And just as they took their seats, Ginny, Neville, Dean, Fred and George bombarded them with questions.

“Did you see it?”

“D’ you reckon she knows?”

“D’ you think someone told her?”

“We know who told her,” Ron answered firmly.

“Who?” they asked.

“The only other student who was in the room but not in the meeting. The rotten person who would do anything to get us into trouble.”

“Buffy,” Fred and George said simultaneously.

“You think she heard us?” Dean asked.

“She had to have had,” Fred said.

“How else would’ve Umbridge found out,” George continued.

“Buffy wasn’t even near us. She couldn’t ‘ve known,” Ginny tried to reason.

“Than how do you explain it?” Lee Jordan asked, who had entered the conversation after he heard the accusation. And he wasn’t the only one who had heard either. By now Buffy’s name had been dragged through the mud. People eaves dropping on the conversation, since Harry had been surrounded by his housemates, were now passing it along to those who had been in the Hogs Head on Saturday. Making her once again Public Enemy #1.

“I don’t know, but I--”

“Face it Ginny. It doesn’t matter how she did it. What matters is that she did,” Ron stated.

It was loud. Buffy could hear it all the way through the doors. Must be that sign in the common room. She really didn’t need loud today. She was nothing but a walking bruise, thanks to a particularly aggressive demon she had encountered in the forest yesterday. A half-human half-lizard looking thing that apparently believed Buffy was its punching bag. Wincing slightly as she pulled the door open, she began to wonder why she had gotten out of bed at all. It’s not like she would really be missed. Walking into the Hall, all the loud noises she had heard seeping through the wood seconds ago hushed down just a little lower, and she could see a few eyes burning in her direction. Great what did she do now?

“Ms. Summers, just the person I was looking for.”

Buffy screwed her face up in annoyance at the grating voice, before putting on a friendly expression and turning around.

“Good morning, Professor Umbridge. What can I do for you?” she smiled.

“If you’ll follow me please,” she said sweetly.

Umbridge didn’t give her a chance to agree, as she walked back out expecting the blond to follow. Which Buffy did, irritatingly.

The door closed behind them and the voices got louder again.

“You see? She’s probably passing along more information to that old toad,” said Ron angrily.

“What are we gonna do Harry?” Hermione asked, hoping to turn the conversation another way, because the current one was giving her a headache. “About . . . you know . . . are we still going to . . . ”

She was limping. It wasn’t obvious, but Harry always seemed to be a little more aware of Buffy then the rest of them. Why was she limping? When he heard his name, Harry immediately pulled himself out of his wondering, and when he passed his eyes over the group he noticed Neville looking toward the door worriedly. Harry brush it off for now, as he looked around to make sure the coast was clear.

“We’re going to go through with it of course,” he answered, everyone else smiling in relief.

Buffy sat in Professor Umbridge’s office, feeling like she was trapped inside of a Pepto Bismol bottle. Along with the many kittens that moved and meowed within their ornamental plates, and the dried up smelly flowers that stood inside their tacky vases.

“Would you care for some tea, dear?” Umbridge offered, behind her tidy desk.

“No, thank you,” Buffy politely rebuffed.

“I insist,” she smiled forcefully.

Buffy didn’t like that look in her eye, and was getting some serious ‘drink the Kool-Aid’ kind of vibes. “No. Thank you,” she firmly denied.

If Umbridge had feathers, they’d be ruffling right about now. Huffing slowly, she cleared her throat, and put on a happy face.

“Now, dear.” Buffy was beginning to hate that word. “You must know why I called you in here?”

“Not really.”

“Well it seems that our dear--” There’s that word again. “--Mr. Filch has reported to me that he saw you entering the castle last night. In the very late hours, well past curfew.”

A wince, a blink, a gasp, anything to catch her, but Buffy’s face remained blank.

“Sorry Professor, but I think Mr. Filch must’ve seen someone else. I was in my room all night,” she easily told her.

“Is that so?” Her voice skeptical. “Do you have any proof?”

“Does he?”

If her beady eyes narrowed any further, they would’ve disappeared into her head.

The loud sound of the bell suddenly rang, signaling the start of the first class. Picking up her bag from the floor, Buffy rose up.

“Guess that’s my cue. I’d better--”

“Sit down, Ms. Summers,” she ordered.

“But what about--”

“A bell doesn’t dismiss you. I do.”

Reigning in her anger, Buffy sat back down. Doing her best to not jump over the desk and strangle her teacher; because apparently that would be a bad thing.

“Now dear, I get the feeling that you’re not being completely honest with me,” she said, switching immediately back to the fake sugary voice.

“Can’t say what would make you feel that way. I said where I was last night.”

“Why are you limping?” she suddenly asked.

“Excuse me?” Crap.

“I noticed you where limping as you walked toward the Great Hall earlier.”

Buffy eyed her for a second. There’s no way she could’ve known. Then again Giles did say that Fudge and Travers were particularly close, so it was a definite maybe. But she wasn’t about to confess her slayerness on a maybe.

“I stubbed my toe this morning,” she evenly replied.

“I see,” Umbridge mumbled.

They were both fighting for superiority. Buffy wasn’t about to back down, and Umbridge was not going to let a child get the best of her . . . again.

“You are keeping secrets from me Ms. Summers, and I will not allow that in my school.”

“With all do respect Professor. This isn’t your school. Professor Dumbledore is the Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

“For now,” she grinned, her eyes laughing suspiciously.

“What do you mean by that?” Buffy narrowed her eyes. Not liking the threatening tone in her voice.

“You are excused Ms. Summers. But know that I will be watching you.”

Forcing herself to remain calm Buffy stood with her bag in hand and walked toward the door. Pausing just as her hand reached the knob. There’s no way she was going to let the old bag have the last word.

“Oh, by the way Professor, I like the cats,” she smiled politely, even more so when Umbridge fell for the hook and smiled back. “My aunt used to have cats too, but then she got married. Have a nice day.” Sometimes Umbridge made it way too easy.

Buffy caught a glimpse of the toad’s purple face before shutting the door behind her. Walking out of the empty classroom, she wondered if Umbridge just canceled her classes whenever she pleased. Not very orderly. Checking her watch she realized it was way too late to go to History of Magic, darn it. Having time to do nothing Buffy went up to the library to finish up her letter to the Scoobies, and maybe do some studying. Waiting it out until her next class.

'Today, same time, same place.' That was in the note from Sirius that Hedwig had delivered to Harry during History of Magic. The delivery that had somehow gotten Hedwig’s wing to bend in a weird way. After handing her over to Professor Grubbly-Plank so she could be healed, Harry went to find his friends after class had ended. To pass on the information about Sirius’ appointment for the fireplace. Leaving them to wonder if someone might have read the message before he had a chance to reach it, seeing as Hedwig had never been hurt during a delivery before.

Walking toward Potions, the Trio couldn’t help but overhear Draco’s boasting about the Slytherin Quidditch team being re-formed. Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four, included Quidditch teams as well, and Angelina had begged Harry once again to not anger Professor Umbridge for fear that Gryffindor might not be given permission to re-form its team.

Faces twisted in rage, Ron and Harry listened as Draco moved on to make fun of Ron’s father and Harry’s no doubt future place in St. Mungo’s insanity ward. However, it wasn’t Hermione’s pleading that stopped them from going after Draco, but Neville’s own surprising mission to see the Slytherin beaten to a bloody pulp.

They were glaring at her again. The moment she walked out of the library after break, all Buffy seemed to see were glares. Still making her wonder what the hell she had done. Moving her way through the crowds and corridors to the dungeons, she heard Harry’s urgent voice reaching her ears.

“Neville, no!”

Speeding up her pace, she was taken aback at the scene. Harry and Ron were currently holding a red faced Neville back from a shocked Draco. Boys.

Pushing past everyone, she placed herself in front of Neville. Putting a strong hand on his chest to hold him back.

“Neville,” she said gently, to get his attention. “Neville,” she repeated a little firmer.

Eyes narrowed, and lips pressed together he finally turned to her. She didn’t say anything, but raised an eyebrow that spoke volumes. Breathing hard, Neville looked around him, and shrugging off Harry, Ron and Buffy’s objections he walked into the classroom silently.

Sighing in relief, Buffy turned around to face the one person she knew had started it. Her reproachful stare making him squirm. Only Buffy could make Draco feel sorry with just one look.

“Defending your boyfriend Summers, aw how sweet,” Pansy drawled. Irked at the reaction Draco had gotten at Buffy’s disapproving look.

Switching her view over to the pug faced Slytherin girl, Buffy just rolled her eyes. Not giving Pansy the satisfaction of falling for the bait, she pushed past her and went into the classroom. She really didn’t feel like having a word to bark contest, not after the morning she had.

They watched her go, all of them surprised at what had just happened. But Harry and Draco were more than just surprised. What exactly was going on between Neville and Buffy? And as they faced each other at the exact same time they couldn’t help but notice the mirrored looks of irritation on each others faces. Leaving them to wonder on that too.

“What was all that about?” Buffy whispered harshly when she reached him at their table.

“It’s none of your business,” Neville snapped in a hushed tone.

“Look, I get that you’re angry. But don’t take it out on me okay. If I hadn’t stepped in Crabbe and Goyle would’ve ripped you to pieces. I was only trying to help you,” she snapped back.

His stiff shoulders relaxed and his body sagged tiredly, knowing that she was right. “I-I know, thank you. But I just . . . I don’t wanna talk about it right now okay?” he pleaded.

Buffy noticed his immediate turn around and let her anger wash away as well. “Okay,” she nodded. Understanding fully well when private matters wanted to stay private.

Neville smiled in gratefulness, and decided to repay the favor. Looking around the room, he noticed that very few people were around, but that it would change very soon.

“Listen Buffy, there’s something you need to know,” he whispered looking around him again. “Everybody thinks you were the one who told Umbridge about the meeting at the Hog’s Head.”

“What?” she asked in surprise.

A rush of students came into the room. Looking around her Buffy could still see cold eyes in her direction, but now they made sense. They believed she was the one who told Umbridge. Did they not know she hated her? That giving the opportunity Buffy would pull out her wand and painfully–

The door of the classroom banged shut and everyone became quiet. Professor Snape billowing into the room and ahead of the class.

“You will notice that we have a guest with us today,” he sneered, gesturing to the corner where Umbridge sat with a clipboard in her hands.

Buffy felt the air thicken around her and her blood boiling in rage. That stupid, toad-faced, Pepto wearing, cat loving–

“We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them the last lesson. Instructions are on the board. Carry on,” he ordered.

There was noise again, and everyone began working on their assignment.

“I didn’t,” Buffy told Neville while she fiddled with her potion.

He turned to her in confusion, before he remembered what he had told her. “I know,” he said sincerely.

Buffy was partly shocked to hear him say that, but a warm fuzzy feeling settled in her stomach. Neville actually gave her the benefit of the doubt.

“Thank you,” she said.

He merely nodded and went to work on his potion. Confident that he wouldn’t mess it up this time.

“Now . . . how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?” Umbridge asked, as she followed Snape around. The bottle in Buffy’s hand nearly crunching at the sound of her voice.

“Fourteen years,” he replied.

“You originally applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, I believe?”

“Yes,” he answered quietly, obviously irritated of the question.

“But you were . . . unsuccessful?”

“Obviously,” he said. His lips curling.

That little scene brought a smile to Buffy’s face, and just for a moment her day got a little bit brighter.



*****



The cold stares, the hushed voices didn’t stop. Everywhere she went, people had reverted back to treating her just like they had at the start of term. Now, most of the school believed she was the one who had convinced Umbridge to pass Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four, because apparently she just had that much power.

“This is all her fault!” Ron complained.

“It was bad enough with the secret meetings, but Quidditch as well?” said Angelina.

“They’ve probably struck up a deal or something,” Lavender imputed.

“She’s probably down there with the Slytherins right now, laughing over this whole thing,” Alicia Spinnet bit out.

“I still believe she didn’t say anything,” Ginny voiced, gaining the rooms attention.

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that. Why do you keep defending her?” George asked.

“Because I do. Buffy--”

“Buffy is nothing more than a lying snake,” said Fred.

“After everything Buffy did to--”Ron started.

“Buffy didn’t do anything! How many times do I have to tell you that? It wasn’t her fault.”

“Ginny’s right. Buffy wouldn’t do something like this,” Neville said.

“You would believe her,” Ron snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means now that you’ve become the best of friends you think you can trust her. Have you forgotten how she used to treat you? Us? Treated Ginny?”

“Ron that’s not--” his sister scorned.

“I’m not saying that I trust her. I’m saying that Buffy’s changed. She just wouldn’t do something like this,” Neville stated.

“We don’t know that Neville,” Harry quietly said. Anger and jealousy clouding his mind. “Just because you’ve been hanging around her doesn’t mean you know her.”

“I know her better than anybody here,” he said confidently, his own anger rising and not really sure why.

“Really?” Harry felt a burning in his chest. “Why’s that? Just because you’ve shared a few little study sessions?”

“Because I’ve actually given her a chance.”

The entire room was looking between Neville and Harry like a ping-pong match. Feeling the tension between the two. And that was how she found them.

Buffy stepped through the portrait hole and was shocked to see Harry and Neville standing, looking like they were facing off. Noticed Harry’s angry stare as he looked at her, and Neville’s apologetic one as he did the same. You have got to be kidding? Not wanting to deal with that, she looked around the common room. Big mistake, because they all looked like they wanted to kill her. Except for Ginny, who had the same look she had since the last time Buffy saw her.

She didn’t need this. Not tonight. It was bad enough that she couldn’t go out and slay because she was under surveillance by Umbridge, or that she was still a Smurfette because last night’s demon beat her harder than she thought, but she still had the ‘We Hate Buffy’ club on her back. Screw it all. She didn’t need this. Ignoring everyone, she went upstairs, hoping to sleep everything off. She’d deal with all this crap tomorrow.



*****



By the end of the night everyone had calmed down, and gone to bed. Except for Harry, Ron and Hermione who were busy talking to Sirius in the fireplace.

“ . . . the Ministry’s enforced another decree, which means we’re not allowed to have Quidditch Teams--”

“Or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?” Sirius grinned.

“How do you know that?” Harry asked.

“Maybe Buffy told him,” Ron mumbled angrily.

“Buffy?” Sirius asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry told him. All three of them mistaking Sirius’s surprise for confusion. “So how did you find out?”

“You might wanna choose your meeting places more carefully. The Hog’s Head, I ask you.”

“Well it’s better than the Three Broomsticks. That’s always packed with people,” Hermione defended herself.

“Which means you’ll be harder to overhear. You’ve got a lot to learn Hermione.”

“Who overheard us?” Harry demanded.

“Mundungus, of course. He was the witch under the black veil. He was keeping an eye on you.”

“I’m still being followed?” he growled.

“Yes, you are. Just as well if the first thing you do on your weekend off is organize an illegal defense group.”

“You think it’s a bad idea?” Harry asked unsurely from the way Sirius’s words sounded.

“Certainly not! I think it’s a brilliant idea!” he smiled.

“You do?”

“Of course I do! I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a great idea!” he cheered on. “So, where are you meeting?”

“That’s the problem. We don’t know where we’re able to go. There’s about twenty-eight of us,” Harry said.

“Oh, well that is a problem. How about--”

Sirius broke off his words, alarmed. Looking at something to his side, the others couldn’t see.

“Sirius?” Harry asked worriedly, but he was gone.

“Why did he--”

The three of them gasped when a hand poked through the flames. A short, stubby hand that Harry recognized immediately. Shooting up from their seats, they ran for it. Not one of them stopping until they were in the safety of their rooms.



*****



Note: Faster updates! See, I still care :) You know what makes care more? Reviews!