Obliviate My Rebellion {Book 3}

19. Dumbledore's Army

"I think Umbridge read Harry's post, that's the only explanation I can come up with." Cole announced to me the next day.

It was break time, and the two of us were in an empty classroom with about thirty other people and Peeves throwing ink on people. It was raining so hard outside that it was like somebody was spitting every thirty seconds; so the teachers let us stay inside for once.

Gennie was off trying to get permission to re-form the Quidditch team, while everybody else was.. who knows where. So it was just me and Cole.

"Hmm," I said, stifling a yawn before lying back on the table. I'd been awake most of last night, worrying about Umbridge nearly getting Sirius in the fire. "I don't know how she could have done it though. The letter didn't even look open."

"Evil people always surprise you." Cole said, his voice faraway. "You think you have the upper hand and that everything's fine, you won. But then they come along with a metaphorical punch in the gut and leave you breathless and wishing you'd never thought everything was fine..."

Scared by the flat indifferent tone Cole was speaking in, I looked at him. Like, really looked at him. His clothes were rumpled and it looked like he'd slept in them (there was the same stain on his jumper that there had been yesterday) and his tie and hair were more askew than ever. He had his hands up his jumper sleeves, something he did when he was anxious--I knew this because I did it as well.

"I'm guessing we're not talking about Umbridge now, right?" I asked tentatively. Cole had spoken or mentioned Cameron since way last year, and it was strange he suddenly brought him up. "Are you okay?"

Cole shrugged, and looked outside into the rain. "It's stupid, I guess. But it's his nineteenth birthday today, and it's so odd... I mean I don't miss him or the stupid dark artifacts he forced me to buy or anything, I've just been remembering the fun we had when he wasn't a psychopath... Is that stupid of me?"

Cole had clear tears in his eyes, and wiped at them furiously with his sleeves. "It's not stupid." I said quietly. "He was your brother once."

"Yeah, was." Cole snorted, not looking at me. "I couldn't wait for this day, I was relishing it. I couldn't wait for this day to come, where he wouldn't get what he wanted for his birthday, he'd only have dementors and screams as his presents.... But of course, I was wrong. My father has screwed that lovely plan up."

I hadn't heard much about Cole's father from him, but from what I grasped they didn't have the closest relationship. "What did he do?"

Cole sighed deeply. "Well Camille wrote to me to say that my father has gone to visit the bastard in Azkaban for his birthday."

"That's sick." I declared. "Why should he get anything? He should just rot in there until he gets a dementor's kiss."

"That's what I said!" Cole said, nodding in agreement. "But nooo, the son who tortures and abuses the other one for five years gets a visit and probably a hug on his birthday. What did I get from my father for my birthday? A five galleon voucher for Zonko's. It's bullshit, man."

"What does your mother think about this?" I asked quietly. If I had a husband who wanted to visit my psycopath of a son for his birthday, I would have divorced him immediately.

Cole shrugged, still not looking at me. "Camille heard it from her, and she was furious about it. Though she lost all love for him when she found out. She didn't even attend the trial--but my father did. And he cried when the verdict was handed out--cried. How sick is that? But Cammy was always father's favourite, he was the strong and capable son who loved the dark arts, and I was the wuss who loved piano and kittens."