SALEM ᵈ ᵐᵃˡᶠᵒʸ

xxii. The Department of Mysteries

WHEN Goyle, Pansy, and Crabbe dragged Ron and I towards Umbridge's office I could only hope that Harry and Hermione finished their part before they got caught as well.

We rounded the corner and my heart sank to find that Ginny, Luna, and — to my utter surpirse — Neville all gagged and being held by the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad.

I huffed an angry breath. "Seriously, a bloody gag? Do we look like prisoners to you? The audacity you have to treat us like animals—oomf—!"

A rough textured cloth was suddenly tied over my mouth, ultimately gagging me too. Ron's muffled protests told me that he has been gagged as well.

One of the boys opened the door to Umbridge's office and shoved us in. If I was already angry just by seeing all of my friends gagged and bound, the sight of Harry crumpled against the desk with Umbridge towering over him, Hermione pinned to the wall by Millicent Bulstrode and Draco watching in amusement made me reach my tipping point.

I struggled against Goyle's hold, my voice muffled against the gag so it came out like gibberish.

My emotions went haywire, the familiar tugging in my gut erupted again, and before I knew it, one of Umbridge's fine china plates fell to the floor with a dainty clatter.

I stopped struggling immediately, watching Umbridge's reaction with baited breath. My friends were still struggling beside me, unaware of what just happened. To them, it might've just been an accident and nothing more.

Luckily, Umbridge thought the same thing as well. Along with the rest of the Slytherins.

I didn't have time to be relieved because as quick as it happened, someone already started speaking.

"Got 'em all." The boy who spoke pointed at Neville. "That one tried to stop me from taking her." His finger moved to Ginny. "So I brought him along too."

"Good, good," Umbridge praised, watching us all maliciously. "Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?"

Draco laughed obnoxiously. For once in my life, I didn't even glare at him angrily. Instead I simply shot him a disappointed look. I knew it wasn't my place to, but after what I told him in the Prefect's Bathroom — how I opened up a small part of my feelings — I felt let down.

"So, Potter, you stationed lookouts around my office and you sent these buffoons—" Umbridge nodded towards Ron and I. "—to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration Department when I knew perfectly well he was smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes, Mr. Filch having just informed me so."

I cursed mentally, shooting a fleeting look at Ron. Guess that our planned didn't work after all.

"Clearly it was very important for you to talk to somebody," said Umbridge. "Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone. . ."

I gritted my teeth and jerked against my bounds.

"It's none of your business who I talk to," Harry snarled.

"Very well, Mr. Potter," she said in a sweetly cold tone. "I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco—fetch Professor Snape."