Chapter Twenty: Valentine's Visits
—BY ORDER OF—
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts
Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.
The above is in accordance to Educational Decree Number Twenty-six.
This latest decree had started with teachers whispering to each other and even a few students about the article that informed the public of the breakout in corridors, but had turned into a joke within a week. Students would tell their teachers that they weren't allowed to tell them not to do things like play Exploding Snap because it didn't relate to the subject.
Harish had hoped that the breakout might have humbled Umbridge a little, that she might have been abashed at the catastrophe that had occurred right under her beloved Fudge's nose. It seemed, however to have only intensified her furious desire to bring every aspect of life at Hogwarts under her personal control. She seemed determined at the very least to achieve a sacking before long. The only question was whether it would be Trelawney, or after the fifth years found out he was on probation at their first Care class of the term, Hagrid.
Every single Divination and Care of Magical Creatures lesson was now conducted in the presence of Umbridge and her clipboard. She lurked by the fire in the heavily perfumed tower room, interrupting Trelawney's increasingly hysterical talks with difficult questions. She hovered over the students on the grounds while Hagrid flustered to maintain a steady lesson. Even though he was not showing them anything dangerous, he seemed oddly jumpy throughout all of the lessons and kept glancing anxiously back at Umbridge.
But while all of that was going on, Harish hardly payed a bit of attention. He was busy finalizing their last joke products with the twins, every Monday evening he was involved in teaching DA, and on top of that the teachers were finally starting to give them mounds of homework again. With all of that, January seemed to be passing alarmingly fast.
As February grew closer, Harish decided to take Daphne on the Hogsmeade trip that was on the fourteenth. It would most likely be one of the last ones he would go to, so he naturally wanted to spend it with his girlfriend. He had casually asked her towards the end of January, and she had said yes, of course.
So on Valentine's Day, Harish and Daphne met up in the common room, both dressed up slightly. Daphne looked radiant as ever with her shiny brown hair curled. Harish walked up to her, bowed slightly, and held out a rose.
"Oh, it's lovely!" Daphne said, taking it from him.
She smelled it, and within seconds it changed into a bottle of perfume with a pop.
"Did you make this?" she asked in surprise.
"It was the twins' idea," Harish replied, rubbing the back of his head.
"It's sweet," she replied with another wide smile.
"Do you want to go?" he asked.
"Just give me a second and I'll go put this away," Daphne replied and she dashed out of the common room. Harish stood there awkwardly by himself for a few minutes, and then his date reemerged from the girls' dormitories.
Harish took her by the arm and the two of them walked out of the common room, up into the Entrance Hall from the dungeons, and out into the fresh air in comfortable silence. Once outside, Harish glanced longingly at the Quidditch pitch.
"You should be able to play Quidditch again," she told him.
"But," he said sadly, "she gave me a life-long ban!"
Daphne shook her head.
"That's only in effect while she's here, and may I recall that no teacher has ever lasted more than a year?"
"Still," Harish sighed. "This was my last year to play at Hogwarts."
They spent the next few minutes talking about Quidditch and insulting Umbridge, a topic which lasted them until they reached the village itself. Once there, Harish and Daphne went in and out of a few shops. It started to drizzle lightly when they left Zonko's.
As the rain began to fall heavier, Harish asked, "Do you want to go into the Three Broomsticks?"
Daphne shrugged, "Why not?"
So the two of them ran into the pub to dry off. They chose a seat near the window and Harish cast a heating charm that dried the both of them.
"Thanks," Daphne said.
Rosmerta came up to their table seconds later.
"Two butterbeers, please," Harish requested.
Rosmerta nodded and walked off, her shiny high heels clicking as she went.
"So what are you planning on doing next year, once you have left Hogwarts?" Daphne asked Harish.
"Start a joke shop," he replied. "The twins and I have already bought the premises for the shop. It even comes with a flat that's right above the shop that the three of us will be sharing."
"So you think your joke products will do well?"
"Oh, I know they will," Harish told her confidently. "Tell me, did you enjoy the rose I gave you?" Daphne nodded. "That will be part of our line that caters mostly to young witches like yourself."
Daphne laughed, "Wow, you three really have this planned out, don't you?"
"Yeah," Harish responded. "I mean, we have been planning this joke shop since…what, our second year?"
Daphne laughed again.
"Leave to the three of you to plan something like this five years in advance," she said.
"Yeah," Harish agreed. "Did I tell you about the time we pulled a prank just to fund raise for the joke shop?"
"No."
"Well we flooded the corridors and charged other Slytherins five galleons for a ride on a broom to their classes."
Daphne shook her head.
"What are you planning on naming the joke shop?"
"Now that," he tapped his nose. "Is our little secret for now."
Daphne rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless.
There was another pause of comfortable silence, which was broken by Daphne, "Hey, is that Hermione?"
Harish glanced around. In a table at the back corner sat Hermione, accompanied by the least expected companions: Luna Lovegood and Rita Skeeter.
"Do you mind joining them?" Harish asked.
"No," Daphne said, her eyes alight. "I'm curious as to what's going on as well."
So the two of them got up and walked over to the table, where they slid into empty seats.
"What're you doing here?" Harish asked.
"I don't know," Rita said, folding her arms. "Miss Priss was about to tell me when you two arrived."
Unemployment was not doing the reporter well. She used to have bouncy blonde curls, but now her hair lay lank and unkempt. Her nail polish was chipped and several gems were missing from her glasses. She took a deep sip of her drink and sat back.
"I want you to write an article for me," Hermione told her. "And I believe it is something you may enjoy."
"Somehow I highly doubt that," Skeeter replied skeptically with an eyebrow raised.
"So you don't want a mission where you can ruin someone's life with one article?" Hermione asked, sounding disappointed and slightly mischievous.
"Whose?" Rita asked, leaning forward.
"Albus Dumbledore," Hermione replied with a smirk, leaning forward as well.