"If the Weasleys acted because of so-called 'insults,' then what was Potter's reason for fighting? Perhaps it was the arrogant, conceited, stupid, and reckless genetic factors in his blood acting up?" Snape looked Harry up and down, his voice growing softer and softer, but his gaze growing colder and colder.
Orli's heart sank: Harry at this moment, wearing glasses, his hair sticking up messily, dressed in Gryffindor Quidditch robes with his Firebolt beside him—he was practically a one-to-one replica of his father.
"I'm sorry," Professor McGonagall said through gritted teeth. "They're in my House. They're my students. I decide."
"Oh, actually..." Umbridge said with a cold smile. "I think you'll find that my opinion counts. Now, where did I put it—"
She thrust a ring-laden hand into her handbag and rummaged around.
"Cornelius just sent this... I mean..." She gave a fake laugh. "The Minister just sent this... here it is..."
She pulled out a piece of parchment, opened it in front of everyone, cleared her throat theatrically, and read aloud:
"The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and will have the power to alter any such punishments imposed by other staff. Signed: Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic."
She displayed the parchment to everyone, then carefully rolled it up and put it back in her handbag.
"So... I'm afraid I'll have to ban these three from playing Quidditch."
Umbridge's eyes swept over Harry, Fred, and George in turn.
"Ban us... from playing?" Harry's voice sounded dreamlike.
"That's right, Mr. Potter. I think a lifetime ban would be appropriate." Umbridge smiled with unusual happiness.
"But I'm not unreasonable, Professor McGonagall. The other Gryffindor team members may continue to play—I didn't see any violent tendencies from them. Well then, have a pleasant day."
Umbridge walked out with an air of extreme satisfaction, leaving behind a terrible silence in the changing room—Harry's mouth hung slightly open, George stared wide-eyed, and Fred's clenched fists trembled slightly.
"You heard what she said." Professor McGonagall's voice carried extreme exhaustion.
"Now, everyone back to the castle."
She straightened her spine and walked out of the changing room. But her retreating figure looked as if she'd aged ten years in an instant.
"So we have no Seeker and no Beaters now?" Angelina said numbly.
"Professor Snape." Orli looked toward Snape, who had remained standing there. He seemed quite happy to stay and savor Gryffindor's gloom and despair.
"Forgive me for asking so boldly—what about Crabbe hitting the Bludger after the whistle? He knocked Harry off his broom. Did you punish him fairly and justly?"
"I certainly gave him appropriate punishment." Snape looked at Orli, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"What punishment specifically?" Orli pressed relentlessly.
"...I made him copy out the Quidditch rules once." Snape paused for half a second before answering.
"Ha!" Orli let out a cold laugh. She didn't look at Snape again, but walked straight over and hugged Harry tightly.
"We'll find a way, Harry. As soon as we get that old toad out of the school, her ban won't count anymore!"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Snape's face darken immediately, but she deliberately ignored it.
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