What is normal to the spider,
is chaos to the fly
or
In which Antares Kelly knew he would get tangled in the web of the Order of the Phoenix.
----------------
[THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX]
[BOOK ONE]
[MALE OC x UNDECIDED]
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✯✯ ✯
Antares' face was grim as he marched through the Clocktower Courtyard, his mood worsening as he approached the castle.
A hypocrite.
Dolores Umbridge was a complete and utter hypocrite. While this woman went around claiming herself an advocate for the purist agenda, she conveniently hid that she had a Muggle mother and, what's more, a Squib for a brother. It was all a sickening charade.
He got what he wanted. He saved Harry from another torturous detention, and Andromeda had given him a gold mine.
Then why did it feel more like lead?
Antares couldn't stand it. Umbridge's actions went against everything he stood for as a defender of magical tradition. Thousands of years of culture and practice passed down from witches and wizards created what the wizarding world is today. She was not a protector of magical heritage; she was a usurper, aiming to implement her own tarnished ideals. It was just another insult to add to the pile.
He passed clusters of students enjoying the first Saturday of the term, all unaware of the storm cloud that brewed within their newest professor. He couldn't help it. Every innocent laugh, every carefree conversation he passed by felt like a mockery of his inner turmoil.
When he entered his room in the Faculty Tower, Antares braced his back on the closed door, sighing in relief now that he was finally alone. He slid unceremoniously to the floor, his right leg bent at the knee while the other splayed on the cold stone floor. His head dropped back to meet the door, eyes unblinking as he stared at the painting of Emeric the Evil and Egbert the Egregious. Perhaps this was what Dumbledore was talking about; the further he pushed himself, the madder he got.
Peri cooed from her place on the windowsill, gliding over to perch on her owner's knee. Her graceful white and brown plumage ruffled as Antares carded his fingers through it.
He was tired, Antares realized.
He closed his eyes, allowing the bone-deep exhaustion to wash over him. The room remained silent, broken only by the rhythmic purring emanating from Peri. In this moment, in the quiet companionship of his owl, he found a semblance of peace.
✯✯ ✯
Antares spat out his tea, spraying his work desk with Darjeeling and ruining the neat stack of fifth-year Potions essays he was grading.
MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM
DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"
He cursed and waved his hand over the parchments, watching as the liquid vanished from the pages. He folded the Daily Prophet, leaning closer to read one of the offending passages.
