"Hem, hem,"
Had Professor Umbridge really just stood up during Professor Dumbledore's speech and hem hemmed at him? Oleandra looked incredulously at Tracey, who looked equally as surprised. For some reason, Tracey had always inordinately respected Professor Dumbledore's strength, despite never having witnessed him showcase its full extent— to Oleandra's knowledge, that is.
Was there some kind of history between the Davis family and Dumbledore?
"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."
The woman's voice was annoyingly high-pitched, and she spoke with a kind of baby-like voice that did not befit a woman of her age. The complete opposite of Daphne, who looked like a twelve-year-old, yet spoke like she was a thousand. Oleandra wisely chose to keep that last comment to herself.
"Hem, hem!" Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again.
"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled patronisingly. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"
Oleandra was once again taken aback; not only did the woman speak like she was like a little girl, she also spoke to them as if they were children! It was irritating, to say the least; she was fifteen years old, for goodness' sake; only two years left before she came of age.
"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"
"Not if you keep talking to us that way," Daphne grumbled, who seemed to be taking it personally.
"Hem, hem."
Oleandra was beginning to wonder if a fly hadn't somehow flown down Professor Umbridge's throat and died there. From the woman's toadlike appearance, Oleandra wouldn't have been surprised to see her extend her tongue a dozen yards to the end of the table and snatch a bug from Professor Snape's slimy hair. At any rate, what were her fellow teachers waiting for to offer her a cough pastille?
Professor Umbridge's tone changed, becoming more businesslike in nature. She began droning on and on about teaching, tradition and progress. It was all very boring, but Oleandra tried her best to look attentive; she was supposed to be a prefect, after all.
"…Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."
And that concluded Professor Umbridge's speech; she plopped back down in her chair, and Professor Dumbledore clapped. Oleandra's full stomach was making her drowsy, but she had got the gist of the message, despite drifting off a few times; it was nothing good.
"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held…"
"Whatever it is the ministry's after, it won't work," said Tracey confidently. "Professor Dumbledore won't let it happen."
"I wouldn't be so sure," said Daphne darkly. "Just the fact that she's here shows how much influence the Ministry has over the school. As much as Dumbledore'd like to think it's his own personal playground, Hogwarts belongs to all of us, not just to him. And the Ministry's supposed to represent the will of the people…"
Chairs clattered all around them; Dumbledore had just dismissed them. The feast was over, and it was now time for bed; tomorrow would be the first day of classes. Oleandra quickly jumped to her feet and walked over to Draco, who was still talking to his girlfriend. They had a job to do!
"I was supposed to be prefect with Draco," Pansy hissed as she approached, glowering at her. "Professor Snape recommended us as a pair."
"It's too bad Professor Dumbledore chooses the prefects, then," said Oleandra mildly. "Now come on, Draco. We've got to get the first years to the common room."
Oleandra then raised her voice, since it appeared as though Draco wasn't going anywhere fast. He seemed to prefer using his authority to bully other people rather than to lead them.
"First years, form a line in front of me!" Oleandra said imperiously, and a crowd of first years formed a somewhat crooked line in front of her. "Prefects are the only ones who know the password, so you'd best keep up!"
Wide-eyed, the small first years stared up at her in shock, as if she had just told them to form a human pyramid instead of a simple line. Oleandra couldn't quite tell whether it was because she cut a particularly striking figure or because they thought she was supposed to be dead.
Probably the latter.
"Everyone here?" Oleandra asked in confirmation. "All right then, follow me!"
And off she went, first years streaming after her; together, they left the Great Hall and entered the Entrance Hall. Oleandra was beginning to feel rather like a mother duck bringing her ducklings to the water.
The little first years were quite small and cute; had she looked that way in her first year at Hogwarts? Daphne certainly still did, and Oleandra allowed herself a small giggle at the thought as they transitioned from the Entrance Hall to the Grand Staircase.
As they walked down the stairs, various portraits waved, and a few ghosts stopped by to say hello, though the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron, soon scared them away.
"It's best not to tarry on your way to lessons," Oleandra told the first years in passing. "The stairs here have a will of their own; if they don't feel like granting you passage, then you just might have to take a detour or wait. So always try to show up to your lessons early!"
Suddenly, a loud raspberry resounded through the tower. Oleandra turned to face the noise, as did all the little first years.
"Peeves," Oleandra explained, as they watched it swoop through the walls. "He's a Poltergeist— but he's usually harmless. Annoying, though."
"Firsties!" Peeves crowed. "My favourite treat! Oh, what fun we'll have together!"
"Peeves!" Oleandra shouted. "Are those eyes of yours merely decorations? Do you actually take the Bloody Baron to be a mere ghost? You dare not give him any face?"
The Poltergeist jumped in fright, took a single glance at the ghost in question (who was in the middle of phasing through a wall), and bolted through the opposite wall before Oleandra had the chance to Curse him.
"And there you have it," Oleandra said nonchalantly. "Nobody can control him, not even we prefects, but he's deathly scared of the Bloody Baron. You can try calling out the Baron's name to scare Peeves away, but make sure not to overuse the trick!"
The group of Slytherins continued down to the dungeons, and Oleandra led them to the common room's entrance, before saying, "Slitherfang."
The twin snakes guarding the entrance unfurled, and Oleandra stepped inside, followed by the rest of the younglings.
At last, she was home.