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If Ophiuchus had been uncertain about Umbridge being a completely intolerable pink beast hanging around Hogwarts, his opinion was perfectly cemented the moment he appeared at the door of 'Professor Umbridge's ' office. Potter in all his bespectacled and rebellious glory was already waiting outside and offered him a cordial smile, perhaps out of pity for his dear godfather.
Ophiuchus had nothing against his rebellious streak really. Ophiuchus himself was pretty apparent about his distaste for Dolores Umbridge, her ambitions and her medieval methods. But butting heads with that foul woman dressed in a pink monstrosity in the name of clothes could land someone with Potter's reputation in trouble far worse than a few weeks of detention.
Ophiuchus really, really did not wish to have a heart to heart with Harry on their mutual hatred of their newest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Did anyone mention the hold she really has on the ministry? To take on someone like her would mean to engage in battle against the oppressive system of their governance. And the orthodox Pureblood society. Ophiuchus was well aware that the chances of Umbridge herself being pureblood were slim at best, but her hatred of muggles and half-breeds was so well known that he wouldn't be surprised if she delivered her resume to You-Know-Who as his private secretary.
Was she above using Unforgiveables? Definitely not. Marianne Elmore was living proof of that. Months after Sirius Black's infamous escape from Azkaban, when this same woman, in this same accursed cardigan to his mother's room in St. Mungo's.
Marianne Elmore had disappeared without a trace for months now. Was she truly working for the Death Eaters now? Was his mother above using an Unforgiveable Curse? Would she readily take an innocent life? He'd hadn't asked the question yet. Neither to Andy nor to his father.
What did that egg-head of a dark wizard want with his mother in the first place?
"What have you done, Mama?"
Harry exchanged a brief glance with him, still uncomfortable in Ophiuchus's presence and uncertain of how to approach him, before knocking on the door. Ophiuchus sighed. He hadn't behaved exactly amicable and cheerful either. Though he would gladly admit that he didn't see himself and Harry Potter being best friends anywhere in the near future.
They could, if perhaps Harry had been more like him, shunned and isolated and rather wary of Hogwarts. Not the starry-eyed idiot who refused to acknowledge the complex politics which governed both Hogwarts and the Magical Community at large. 'Misery likes company' some wise man once said.
But Potter was nothing like him. The only thing, they truly had in common was a terrible home where they spent half of their summer-holidays each year. For Ophiuchus the Malfoys and for Harry the Dursleys.
