One day, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Zabini, Azrael, and Farkas gathered in an empty classroom under the guise of the Magical Inquiry Club. Their topic turned to Quirrell's replacement for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Believe it, Zabini? I doubted my eyes. Like a toad was standing there," Ron said.
"Your eyes are fine, Weasley. I couldn't see her as human," Zabini replied.
"Professor Umbridge is a Slytherin alum, but I can't believe it," Azrael added.
"She claims Selwyn lineage. Hard to buy," Farkas noted.
"Sacred Twenty-Eight? Your distant kin, Ron?" Harry teased.
Ron grimaced. "Don't, Harry, Sadalphas. My family's big enough. We don't do that pure-blood stuff."
Quirrell's replacement, Dolores Jane Umbridge, was a Ministry official, not a DADA expert or teacher. Short, clad in pink robes, with a toad-like appearance, she followed Quirrell's curriculum, making classes dull.
"Looks matter," Zabini scoffed. "With that face, she can't teach. Granger'd be better. Teach me Incendio, Granger. Umbridge just parrots the textbook."
"You're such a flatterer, Zabini. That's how you trick girls," Hermione quipped.
Since the Philosopher's Stone, Zabini quietly accepted Ron and Hermione as friends, subtly protecting them from other Slytherins while claiming them as "his prey" to save face. Azrael was polite, Farkas less open, but their bonds were shifting.
"Zabini doesn't trick, Hermione. He hooks people to follow him," Harry said.
"He's on his third girlfriend already," Azrael added.
"You're getting bold, Harry!" Zabini laughed.
They vented about Umbridge, practicing spells in their makeshift clubroom. Harry sought library access from Umbridge to research his mother's ancient magic, but her response disappointed.
"No, Potter. A first-year shouldn't meddle with such things. Try this Ministry-approved book, Defense Theory Basics by Theseus Scamander. Work hard!" Umbridge chirped.
Harry thought her odd but found her recommended book useful, so he called her Professor Umbridge instead of "weird lady."
Quirrell's disappearance before OWLs and NEWTs didn't faze fifth- and seventh-years. They either dropped DADA or self-studied. Umbridge, deemed incompetent in practicals, shared past exams to maintain her reputation, earning some favor from exam-takers.
Lower years, especially the Weasley twins, tormented her. She and Filch chased their pranks after hours, and Harry's group bet on whether the twins would escape or Umbridge would win.
"Ron, Farkas, Azrael, done studying? Duel me for practice," Harry said.
"Today, I'll beat you, Harry," Ron declared.
"I'll cheer, Weasley. Farkas'll thrash me," Azrael said.
"Not even trying to win?" Harry laughed.
Harry tested spells—levitating his clothes, using transfigured animals to block Expelliarmus. Dueling peers steadily honed his skills.
After the club, as Harry and Zabini walked Ron and Hermione out, Farkas claimed a bathroom break, staying behind with Azrael, who didn't leave.
"What's up, Farkas?" Azrael asked.
"Bloom, don't you think Zabini's changed?" Farkas said, brow furrowed.
"Changed how?"
"He's closer to Weasley and Granger."
(Is Farkas upset Harry and Zabini are friendly with them?) Azrael wondered. Farkas's family, once a prominent Slytherin line of Aurors, had fallen. If raised with pure-blood ideals, he might resent their ties.
"Maybe. They adventured together. They respect them as people," Azrael said.
Farkas's silence showed his displeasure.
"No need to worry. We're still Harry and Zabini's best friends," Azrael reassured.
Azrael, the most sociable of the four, often faced pure-blood peers questioning Harry's motives. "What if he gets too close to Granger, even dates her? He won't fit in Slytherin. I want Harry to rise here," Farkas said.
(That's narrow-minded…) Azrael thought. With Draco's strained friendship, external connections were vital. For Farkas's ex-Auror family, clinging to pure-blood pride limited their prospects.
"No need to stress. Harry and Zabini are picky about looks. They fought over Padma Patil versus Cho Chang, remember?" Azrael said.
"But would Harry risk himself for someone he doesn't like?" Farkas pressed.
"He would. He's… too kind for his own good," Azrael replied.
Harry's romantic prospects were a hot topic among girls. Azrael was relieved Farkas's concerns were normal, unlike some older girls claiming Harry fancied Ron.
"Zabini used to think like me, but now he's saying Granger's a Squib descendant, not Muggle-born," Farkas grumbled.
"That's Slytherin wordplay. We all know it's a lie, but it keeps the peace," Azrael explained.
Squibs, erased from magical family trees, could have magical children with Muggles or wizards. Slytherin pure-bloods used this to accept half-bloods as "distant kin."
"I get it. You feel guilty befriending Granger and Weasley as a pure-blood, right? But Harry gave us a cover—club mates. No one questions that," Azrael said, smiling.
Farkas hesitated. "How do you accept it, Azrael? You're pure-blood too. Did you abandon it?"
Tension sparked. Azrael answered smoothly, "I haven't. My dad taught me pure-bloodism means marrying within our kind. I'll be sincere with a pure-blood girl someday. That's enough, right?"
"Maybe…" Farkas wavered.
"Look, everyone knows Harry's not pure-blood. Expecting him to follow pure-bloodism is foolish," Azrael said boldly, a risk he'd never voice near Harry.
Farkas paled. "The Potters are a noble house."
"Not pure-blood. Harry has no reason to care. If he likes Granger and wants to date her, we, as friends, should let it slide. That's Slytherin style."
"You wouldn't stop him?" Farkas's gaze accused.
"I don't have the guts to. You're not alone, Farkas. I'm pure-blood too, just a bit… craftier," Azrael said.
Farkas nodded reluctantly. Azrael thought, (Honest kids like him always lose out.)
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