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On the way back from the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid was still trying to give Anthony another unnamed magical creature. When they emerged from the trees, the afternoon sun was still blazing over the lawns. After several polite refusals from Anthony—he really didn't need another destructive pet—Hagrid finally gave up and started talking about what happened last time he brought venison to Aragog.
Anthony breathed a sigh of relief. "Well then, maybe try horse meat next time, Aragog might… wait, what's going on over there?"
At the far end of the lawn, a large circle of students had gathered. Anthony and Hagrid exchanged a look and hurried over. Anthony spotted the signature Weasley red hair first, recognizing Ron, Fred, and George, and then saw Harry and Hermione with them. Harry had his Nimbus 2000, and Fred and George each held an old broom. They were all glaring at a group on the other side. Ron had already pulled out his wand.
Opposite them stood Draco Malfoy and his two shadows, Crabbe and Goyle. Behind them were Pansy Parkinson, a second-year, and Tracey Davis, a third-year. Pansy held her chin high, shooting Harry's group a practiced look of contempt, while Tracey just stood with her arms crossed, watching coldly.
Even from a distance, Anthony could hear Malfoy's voice. "That'll be five points from you, Potter, for speaking ill of our Head of House and Madam Umbridge. You too, Weasley—five points for nodding along and pointing your wand at me."
"If Snape didn't hog the pitch every time—Malfoy, you're not even training!"
"It's Professor Snape, Potter. Another five points. Oh, and you two Weasleys, five points each. I don't like the way you're looking at me. Let me think…"
"This feels familiar," Anthony muttered to Hagrid, patting the shoulder of a Slytherin student in the crowd. The boy turned impatiently, flinched when he saw Anthony and Hagrid, shuffled aside, and jabbed the shoulder of the student in front of him as a warning.
"Think you're a Prefect now, Malfoy?" Hermione shot back. "Prefect isn't like Seeker. Money won't help you there."
"And you, Granger. Five points for those buck teeth and that stinking Muggle stench," Malfoy said. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy snickered. Fred and George pulled out their wands in unison. "No, I don't need to be a Prefect, Granger. I'm a member of the Inquisitorial Squad."
"The what?" Anthony asked, pushing past the front row of students into the space between the two groups. Ron reluctantly put his wand away at a signal from Hermione, but Fred and George kept theirs ready. Anthony gave them a warning look.
Malfoy seemed startled, but he recovered quickly. "A student group assisting Madam Umbridge with her inquiries, Professor Anthony." He dipped his chin slightly, glancing at a small silver 'I' on his chest. "The Inquisitorial Squad." Crabbe and Goyle puffed out their chests, showing off identical badges with smug grins.
"Must be really proud to be a follower of such a stupid, arrogant cow, Malfoy," Harry said.
Anthony warned, "Mr. Potter?"
"Sorry, Professor Anthony."
Malfoy sneered. "Anyway, Madam Umbridge has authorized us to dock points—to ensure her investigations proceed smoothly."
Hagrid said, disbelief thick in his voice, "That can't be! Dumbledore wouldn't allow—"
Malfoy looked at the towering Hagrid, his arrogance growing. "Dumbledore doesn't have to allow it. A teacher organizing student activities doesn't require school approval. At least, that's what he told Madam Umbridge. Ha. Funny, isn't it? Hoist with his own petard. That insane old crackpot, he's finished—"
"Don't you talk about Dumbledore like that, I'm warnin' yeh!" Hagrid roared, his voice booming. Malfoy paled. "Yeh don't know anythin', yeh—yeh—stupid little git!"
Amid the surrounding whispers and snickers, Malfoy's face flushed red. "Shut up, you great oaf! It's a waste of breath talking to someone like you. Dumbledore's finished. Haven't you noticed he hasn't been around for ages?"
"Headmaster Dumbledore is very busy. He has many international matters to attend to," Anthony said sternly. "Furthermore, Mr. Malfoy, for your thoroughly discourteous conduct towards your fellow students and Hagrid, Slytherin loses ten points. I suggest you apologize."
"I suggest you don't," Fred cut in, raising his wand. "Because I still want to hex you."
George nodded in agreement.
"Don't be stupid, he's Anthony, the one who emptied the Slytherin hourglass," a Slytherin student whispered. "No point arguing with him."
Malfoy hesitated, then said grudgingly, "Fine. I apologize." He shot a dark look at the Gryffindors, sniffed, and turned. "Let's go, Crabbe, Goyle." He glanced at Tracey and Pansy. "Come on, Pansy."
Pansy and Tracey followed. Anthony only then noticed the small silver 'I's on their chests too. The watching Slytherins silently made way for them, then began to drift apart.
"Alright, don't dwell on it," Anthony said to the kids still standing there. "Don't let this ruin a perfectly good mood. Looks like you just came from the Quidditch pitch?"
The faces before him fell even further.
"We never got to train," Fred said. "We swapped times with Hufflepuff today."
"Moved the evening session to the afternoon. Wood thought the light would be better," George added.
Ron fumed. "But that lot of Slytherins came and said Snape had approved a last-minute booking for them to practice new tactics. And then what? They left right after Harry. Never even used the pitch!"
"Wood is furious," Harry said. "Second time this week."
"Second time he's been furious?" Fred said. "I'd say fifth."
George corrected, "Sixth."
Fred thought for a second. "You're right, George."
"Do you think Malfoy was telling the truth?" Hermione asked Harry worriedly. "Can they really dock points?"
"Impossible," Hagrid said firmly. "Letting a second-year brat dock points? Never happened at Hogwarts before."
Just then, Professor McGonagall hurried out of the castle, Percy Weasley trailing behind her.
"What have you done now, Potter?" she demanded sharply. "Gryffindor's hourglass just lost a chunk, and everyone is saying it's because of you and your friends." She spotted Fred and George, and her face tightened further.
Harry said, "Professor, it was Malfoy, he—"
Professor McGonagall cut him off sternly. "I don't want to hear you blaming other students, Mr. Potter. Just tell me what you did."
Anthony said, "Minerva—"
Professor McGonagall glanced at him, lowering her voice. "Henry, thirty points is rather excessive. Though I'm sure you have your reasons."
"No, it was Mr. Malfoy who docked the points," Anthony explained.
He saw Professor McGonagall blink.
"You don't mean to say," she said slowly, "that you intended to dock points from Mr. Malfoy…"
"No, Mr. Malfoy was the one doing the docking," Anthony said. "That's what it sounded like, at least. Madam Umbridge has allowed it."
Professor McGonagall stared at him for confirmation for a few seconds. Anthony nodded.
"This is outrageous!" Professor McGonagall said. "Outrageous! House points have always been an internal Hogwarts matter. Even a member of the Board of Governors shouldn't have that power. I'll speak with him—when did he arrive?"
Harry and Ron spoke at once. "Not that one, Professor!" "The other Malfoy!"
"Be quiet!" Percy snapped disapprovingly.
Anthony said, "Not the elder Mr. Malfoy, Minerva. The younger one. Draco Malfoy."
Professor McGonagall looked thoroughly confused.
"You mean to say Draco Malfoy docked points from Mr. Potter?" she said. "How is that possible?"
A chaotic chorus of explanations followed—"They took our pitch time," "docking points whenever they want," "insulted Hermione and Hagrid," "and Professor Dumbledore," and so on.
"Professor Anthony docked him ten points, and then he left," Hermione finished.
"I didn't realize the Inquisitorial Squad actually had the authority to dock points," Anthony said apologetically.
"It's not your fault. No one could have imagined it," Professor McGonagall said. "Very well, I believe the Headmaster at least needs to be informed of this. Hagrid, Henry, I would be most grateful if you would accompany me to the Headmaster's office to recount what you witnessed."
Anthony asked, surprised, "Professor Dumbledore is back?"
"Well, he hasn't quite kicked the bucket yet, has he?" Professor McGonagall said briskly. "Yes, he's back. Will you come?"
Anthony nodded. "Of course."
Hagrid said, "'Course, Professor McGonagall."
"Splendid," Professor McGonagall said, turning and marching back towards the castle. Anthony and Hagrid hurried after her.
Anthony heard Percy lecturing his brothers behind them. "Can't you lot stay out of trouble for one day? Thirty points!"
Ron protested hotly, "You heard! That was all Malfoy making things up!"
"But the points are still gone because of you," Percy said. "Have a heart, Gryffindor's points are low enough as it is! Do you know how it feels for me to hear Gryffindor lost that many points at once, with so many Weasleys involved?"
"You should feel proud," Fred told him.
Professor McGonagall's pace quickened, her anger seeming to grow with every step. Anthony soon lost the thread of the Weasleys' argument. Just before entering the castle doors, he caught a glimpse of Roger Davies and Tracey Davis seemingly arguing by a wall, but it was just a fleeting glance before he had to rush to keep up with Professor McGonagall, weaving through students and clattering up the stairs. He had a feeling the upcoming conversation wouldn't be pleasant.
"Oh, bugger," Hagrid whispered to Anthony.
"What?"
"My rock cakes are definitely burnt by now," Hagrid said.
Chapter 318: Tattling
Dumbledore was indeed in his office.
He sat behind his desk, looking down at a piece of parchment. He wore bright blue robes, his hat placed on the corner of the desk, looking as if he'd just returned from far away. Fawkes stood on the back of his chair, his long, beautiful tail feathers draped gently over Dumbledore's shoulder, casting a golden-red sheen over his silver-white hair and beard.
"Ah, Minerva," Dumbledore said, looking up with a smile as they entered. "I was wondering when you might arrive. Would you mind closing the door, Hagrid? Thank you."
He tapped his wand, and three comfortable-looking chairs appeared in the office, one significantly larger than the others.
Hagrid gave Dumbledore a somewhat sheepish grin, dragged the large chair over, and sat. Fawkes turned his back on Anthony, lowered his head to nuzzle against Dumbledore's neck for a few seconds, then spread his wings and vanished in a flash of fire.
"Please, sit, Minerva, Henry," Dumbledore said warmly.
"Thank you, sir," Anthony said, taking one of the remaining chairs.
Professor McGonagall didn't even glance at the offered seat. She remained standing ramrod-straight before Dumbledore's desk.
"Albus, I hope you thoroughly enjoyed your meetings," she said coldly. "Perhaps you also happened to notice the minor influence our esteemed High Inquisitor is having on Hogwarts?"
"Possibly," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "I'm just reading the investigative report on me."
Professor McGonagall seemed momentarily shocked out of her anger. "There's an investigative report on you?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Apparently so. I returned just in time to collect it from Fawkes—do sit down, my dear professor, if only to celebrate with me." Professor McGonagall hesitated, then sat.
"I fail to see what's worth celebrating," she said, a touch irritably. "Don't tell me you received an 'Outstanding.'"
Dumbledore said, "No, an 'Acceptable.' But, it's been an age since I received a report card. I've been wanting another. Isn't that something to be pleased about? Tea?"
"Black, no sugar," Professor McGonagall said. "Thank you."
"Hagrid? Henry?"
Anthony thanked him and took a cup, dropping a sugar cube in himself. Hagrid's teacup was the size of a bucket. He poured in nearly half a jug of milk, almost spilling it.
Professor McGonagall shot a look at Hagrid, then turned back to Dumbledore. "Regardless, Albus, this cannot continue. Dolores has gone too far."
Dumbledore set down his teacup, steepled his fingers, and gave her his full attention.
Professor McGonagall took a brief pause, then the complaints poured out. "I've already mentioned her wandering about during my classes—it's terribly disruptive—not to mention what she's done with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Three. No, I anticipated her point-docking wouldn't be fair, or rather, I never expected fairness from her in the first place, but she's surpassed even Severus now. At least Professor Snape bothers to invent strict justifications. Most importantly, do you know what happened today?"
"I suspect I'm about to."
Professor McGonagall continued, completely undeterred. "She has formed an 'Inquisitorial Squad' and delegated point-docking authority to those students, including second-years! It completely undermines the Prefect system and the House Point system!"
"Dear me," Dumbledore said softly.
"Henry and Hagrid saw it. Albus, you may have your considerations, but this must stop. Otherwise…" She paused. "Otherwise, we might as well abolish the House Point system altogether—before everything becomes utterly absurd."
"Absurd is right!" Hagrid boomed. "Thirty points! From a second-year Slytherin brat!"
Anthony, catching Professor McGonagall's glance, set down his cup and added, "I don't see why Madam Umbridge should be permitted to do this."
"Quite right," Dumbledore said, rising and walking to the side. "Though, perhaps Dolores has other thoughts."
He tapped a softly whirring silver instrument with his wand. The puff of white smoke it emitted paused, then, with a series of soft dings, twisted, split into two swirling columns, merged again, and finally dissipated near the Sorting Hat, which slept on a shelf.
"Interesting. But the issue isn't whether, but precisely how…" Dumbledore murmured, then turned and looked at the sky outside the window. "Though it's nearly dinner time, I doubt Dolores would mind a spot of afternoon tea first."
…
"You wished to see me, Headmaster?" Umbridge asked in her sickly-sweet voice. She stood in the center of the office, chin slightly raised, as if consciously trying to appear more composed and imperious. Apart from a sweeping glance upon entering, she paid no further attention to Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, or Anthony.
Dumbledore smiled. "Indeed, Dolores. Please, have a seat."
A chair slid silently into place behind her.
"Thank you, Headmaster, you're too kind," she simpered, though her expression was strained. "I trust you had a pleasant time away from the school."
"Quite pleasant, Dolores, all in order. I brought back some excellent black tea. Perfect for a warm afternoon like this."
Umbridge accepted the cup politely and placed it on the desk.
"Incidentally, I also saw the investigative report you sent me—I was particularly fond of the passages detailing the administrative chaos at Hogwarts under the current Headmaster's… let's say, relaxed supervision." Dumbledore said cheerfully. "However, I invited you because I heard a most interesting rumor. We seem to have an 'Inquisitorial Squad'?"
"Oh, yes, yes, Headmaster," Umbridge said smoothly. "A group of such helpful, good children… My investigative work has proceeded so much more smoothly with their assistance… And, I understand all student organizations, societies, teams, and clubs are free to form and disband without approval, so I didn't trouble you with the notification. You were, after all, quite busy."
"Thank you for your consideration, Dolores," Dumbledore said. "Rest assured, I am not attempting to fault you for establishing the Inquisitorial Squad. On the contrary, I think it's a splendid idea."
Umbridge repeated slowly, "You think it's a splendid…"
Hagrid thumped his teacup—bucket—onto the table. "Professor Dumbledore—"
Dumbledore raised a hand, stopping Hagrid. "A stroke of genius, if I may say so. Therefore, I'd like to encourage you to recruit more students into the Inquisitorial Squad. I think you'd be pleased to find there are many gifted individuals among our students. For instance, I've always been impressed by Harry's innate sense of fairness—"
"Mr. Potter, regrettably, has shown little inclination to cooperate with my investigations. Furthermore, Professor Snape has informed me that Mr. Potter is reckless, arrogant, and attention-seeking. Hardly suitable for the Squad."
"—and I've heard much of Miss Hermione Granger's diligence and caution—"
"But she's Muggle-born, isn't she?" Professor McGonagall glared at Umbridge with open disgust. Umbridge's smile widened, resembling a particularly ugly toad. "I mean, her understanding of the wizarding world is just over a year old. She cannot yet make accurate, appropriate judgments."
"—and Mr. Ron Weasley is quite familiar with the workings of the wizarding world—"
"He and his brothers display a certain… lack of breeding in their conduct," Umbridge said, her smile fixed.
"Good gracious, Dolores, how differently we perceive our students," Dumbledore said calmly. "Where I see kindness, humility, and sincerity, you see character warped by prejudice. Where I find wit and warmth, you emphasize disorder. Where I see earnestness and intelligence, you notice only the least important thing about a person—their lineage and background."
"What I mentioned are all very important, Headmaster," Umbridge said in her cloying voice, now tinged with impatience. "Regardless, I understand. Let's be plain—this is about the points they just lost to the Squad, isn't it?"
"Indeed it is, Dolores," Dumbledore said, steepling his fingers and looking at her over his half-moon spectacles. "I must admit, I was somewhat taken aback. I am aware Educational Decree Twenty-Three grants you the same authority over House Points as a professor, but traditionally, professors only delegate point-docking to Prefects. And, if I recall correctly, Prefects cannot dock points from each other."
"Squad members cannot dock points from each other either, if that's what you're asking, Headmaster."
"No, my point is that appropriate limitations and caution are necessary, Dolores. I fear an excess of power, placed in unsuitable hands, may lead to consequences no one wishes to see."
For the first time since entering the office, Umbridge's expression shifted noticeably. She stared at Dumbledore, a mixture of excitement, glee, and fear in her voice as she struggled to remain calm. "Ah, at last, Dumbledore… you finally show your true colors… Just as the Minister predicted…"
Professor McGonagall let out a cold, derisive snort. Dumbledore remained perfectly composed. "Do not twist my meaning. On this matter, I believe even Cornelius would agree with me—Everard?"
A portrait on the wall opened its eyes. "Albus?"
"Might I trouble you to ascertain whether Cornelius is in his office at the moment?" Dumbledore asked, glancing again at the sky. "Ask the nearby staff; surely some have not yet left for the day. If Cornelius is still at the Ministry, tell him—"
"—that all is well!" Umbridge interrupted sharply. She took a deep breath, and the sickly smile was back on her face. "But you may not need to make the trip, Everard. The Minister has likely left for the day."
The wizard named Everard in the portrait squinted at her. "I haven't visited my frame at the Ministry in an age…"
"Believe me, it's exactly as you left it," Umbridge said. "Headmaster, while the Inquisitorial Squad has no immediate plans to expand, how about this: I will respect Hogwarts' traditions and revoke the point-docking authority of Squad members below fifth year… As for students fifth year and above, I trust they are mature enough to set your mind at ease?"
"In Hogwarts tradition, only Prefects among the student body hold point-docking authority," Dumbledore said with a slight smile. "However, I encourage you… how was it phrased? 'To enact a series of reforms that break with tradition'?"
Professor McGonagall said, "How odd, Dolores. You've suddenly become quite amenable. Though, if you insist, you've reminded me—perhaps members of the Transfiguration Club should also have point-docking authority… to encourage their peers' studies, or the like."
Anthony chimed in, "Don't let the 'Lock Your Heart' Club hear you say that."
Professor McGonagall said, "No matter. I expect Pomona and Filius can also think of clubs whose members rightfully deserve point-docking authority… Oh, and the Albacore Club, of course."
Umbridge seemed to exert considerable effort to get the words out. "Very well, Headmaster. I will revoke the point-docking authority of all non-Prefect members of the Inquisitorial Squad."
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