Chapter 5 -Quiet Appointments-

Harry did not tell anyone about the swan.

He kept it folded tight in the pocket of his robes, the paper worn soft at the creases from where his fingers brushed it absentmindedly. He did not show Ron. He did not mention it to Hermione. He told himself it meant nothing. A trick, perhaps. A coincidence. A stupid thing to cling to.

Still, when the whispers grew louder and the walls of Hogwarts seemed to lean in closer, the weight of it against his chest steadied him in a way nothing else did.

On top of it all. Albus Dumbledore refused to come out of his study. Perhaps he knew it was of no use, or maybe he couldn't dare to see Hogwarts and not recognise it. Harry didn't bother to knock, he didn't ask for help, because well, he didn't have the right. But he was the only one who believed that.

Umbridge wasted no time.

By the end of the week, her presence had become unavoidable. Notices appeared overnight, nailed to walls and pinned beside staircases.

Educational Decree Number Twenty Three.

All student organisations, meetings, and gatherings are hereby disbanded.

Another followed the next morning.

Educational Decree Number Twenty Four.

The authority of the High Inquisitor supersedes that of all staff.

The castle changed its breathing.

Teachers spoke more carefully. Students lowered their voices. Even the staircases seemed to hesitate before moving, as if unsure who they were allowed to obey.

Harry felt it keenly.

Umbridge felt him too.

She watched him in class with open interest now, her eyes bright whenever he raised his hand. She never called on him. When he spoke without permission, she smiled and added his name to her list.

Detention became routine.

Harry stopped counting after the fourth night.

He grew quieter. Paler. The cut on his hand never fully healed.

Draco Malfoy noticed all of it.

He also noticed the summons.

It arrived during breakfast, delivered by a small Ministry owl that landed delicately beside his plate. Pansy leaned over immediately, curiosity sharp.

“What’s that?”

Draco unfolded the parchment slowly, face carefully neutral.

A request. Polite. Official. Private.

He folded it again and stood.

“I’ll be back,” he said, already walking away.

The meeting took place in Umbridge’s office behind closed doors.

She smiled at him the entire time.

“You come from a very respectable family, Mr Malfoy,” she said, fingers steepled. “Your mother has spoken highly of you.”

Draco inclined his head. “She always does.”

“I need students who understand order,” Umbridge continued. “Discipline. Loyalty.”

Draco met her gaze. “Of course.”

She handed him a badge, small and gleaming.

Inquisitorial Squad.

“You will not announce it,” Umbridge said lightly. “Others will follow when they see the example you set.”

Draco accepted it.

He did not smile.

By dinner, the badge was hidden beneath his robes, but its weight was unmistakable.

Harry did not see it.

What Harry saw was Umbridge gaining confidence.

She interrupted lessons. She questioned students publicly. She corrected teachers with false sweetness and thinly veiled threats. Detentions doubled.

Most of them were Harry’s.

It was easy, really. He was already marked.

Someone scribbled liar on his Transfiguration essay. Another student moved seats when he approached. Seamus refused to meet his eyes entirely.

Harry endured it with his head down and his mouth shut.

It did not stop Umbridge.

It never did.

～●～

The first time Draco helped him, Harry never knew.

It happened during Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Umbridge called Harry to the front of the class.

“Tell us, Mr Potter,” she said pleasantly, “what would you do if attacked by a Dark wizard?”

Harry hesitated.

“The truth,” he said carefully. “Defend myself.”

Umbridge smiled wider. “With what spells?”

“The ones that work.”

A murmur rippled through the room.

“Detention,” Umbridge said immediately.

Harry’s jaw tightened. "Voldemort is not going to ask us that and wait for an answer.. he's not going to waste a second."

Umbridge faced the other side. Her smile weakened.

"Nevermind detention, Mr. Potter. You will not be attending my classes for the week."

She turned to face him again. Her smile, seemingly, more wide.

"Instead you will be in my office writing more lines."

Before Harry could respond, Draco spoke.

“Professor,” he said lazily, “Potter has done that all week. Perhaps he could be assigned to maintain the room of requirements in the meantime.”

The room stilled.

"The Ministry will not be happy to see its dreadful condition."

Umbridge turned slowly. “Mr Malfoy.”

Draco shrugged. “I was only suggesting efficiency.”

Umbridge studied him for a long moment.

Then she laughed softly. “How thoughtful.”

She waved Harry back to his seat.

Harry stared straight ahead, pulse pounding. He never looked at Draco.

But Pansy did.

"Why'd you do that?" She hit him softly with her elbow.

"To watch Potter unravel with much variety."

Draco sat back, expression bored, fingers tight around his quill.

Pansy was satisfied. She didn't bother him again.

But Draco didn't add "...variety that does not involve pain."

The second time was quieter.

A stack of parchment left outside Umbridge’s office vanished overnight. The names listed never made it to the notice board. Harry’s was among them.

He assumed it was luck.

Harry told himself it was coincidence.

Draco told himself it was nothing.

They did not speak.

They passed each other in corridors with narrowed eyes and sharp shoulders. Draco still sneered when others were watching. Harry still bristled on instinct.

But sometimes, when Harry felt the worst of it ease without explanation, his fingers brushed the paper swan in his pocket.

And sometimes, when Draco watched Potter walk away unpunished, he wondered when helping him had stopped feeling like rebellion and started feeling like necessity.

Neither of them named it.

Neither of them dared.

The castle was listening now.

And Umbridge was very pleased with how easily a boy like Harry Potter could be turned into an example.

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