HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR DECREE
All student organizations, societies, teams, and clubs are hereby disbanded.
(An organization, society, team, or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.)
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No student organization, society, team, or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organization, society, team, or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.
Signed: High InquisitorDolores Jane Umbridge
The four of them stood behind a cluster of second-years, reading over their heads.
"D'you think they'll shut down the Gobstones Club?" one second-year whispered nervously.
"Your Gobstones will be fine," Ron said, voice dark as storm clouds. The second-years scattered like startled mice.
"We might not be so lucky," he added once they'd fled. "This isn't coincidence. Umbridge knows."
"She can't." Hermione shook her head firmly. "I cursed the parchment we all signed. If anyone betrays us, we'll know immediately—and they'll regret it for the rest of their lives."
"What'll happen to them?" Ron leaned forward, curiosity overriding concern.
"Purple boils. Across their face. Spelling out 'SNEAK.'" Hermione's tone was matter-of-fact.
"If you'd mentioned that on Saturday, your threat would've been way more effective than mine," Orli said with a grin. She didn't think it was excessive—if Sirius or Snape had organized something like this, they would've gone much further.
"Come on. Let's get breakfast and see what's happening with the other houses," Hermione said.
The moment they entered the Great Hall, it was obvious this wasn't just targeting Gryffindor. Tension crackled through the air like static before a storm. Students clustered around tables, voices rising in heated discussion about what they'd read on their house notice boards that morning.
Orli, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had barely sat down when Neville, Fred, George, and Ginny made a beeline for them.
"Saw the notice?" Fred asked.
"Think she knows?" Ginny added.
"What do we do?" Neville's voice carried genuine worry.
Everyone looked at Harry. He glanced around, confirming no teachers were within earshot.
"We keep going. Obviously," he said quietly.
"Knew you'd say that!" George punched Harry's arm hard enough to bruise. "Brilliant."
"The harder she pushes, the more it proves we need this," Orli said, eyes flicking toward the pink figure at the staff table. "She's scared."
"Exactly," Ginny agreed.
"What about prefects?" Fred asked, looking between Ron and Hermione. "Still in?"
"Of course," Hermione said, steady as stone.
"Ernie and Hannah look normal," Ron observed, craning his neck. "Ravenclaws too—no boils."
"Stop obsessing over boils." Hermione grabbed his chin, physically turning his head back around. "And quit looking everywhere. You're being completely obvious."
She mouthed frantically at Ernie and Hannah across the hall, gesturing wildly for them to sit back down at the Hufflepuff table.
"I'll tell Luna and the others," Ginny muttered, picking up her plate. "And that git Michael..." She headed toward the Ravenclaw table with obvious reluctance.
Harry watched her go, jaw tight.
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