"So, how are Professor Umbridge's classes progressing?" Dumbledore inquired, his piercing blue eyes settling on Orli with genuine concern.
"An absolute catastrophe," Orli replied with a derisive snort. "Every single lesson follows the same mind-numbing pattern—read, read, and read some more. She has absolutely no intention of teaching us practical spellwork. Apparently, she expects us to stumble blindly into our O.W.L. examinations armed with nothing but theoretical knowledge."
"Ah, I'm afraid that's not entirely unexpected," Dumbledore said with a weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of political machinations beyond the castle walls.
Lupin picked up the thread, his voice heavy with insider knowledge: "We've received intelligence from our contacts within the Ministry. Fudge is adamantly opposed to students receiving combat training—he's convinced himself that Dumbledore is secretly assembling a private army within Hogwarts to challenge Ministry authority. His paranoia regarding Dumbledore intensifies with each passing day."
The irony in Lupin's voice was unmistakable, bitter as wormwood.
"Unfortunately for him, his strategy will achieve precisely the opposite of his intentions," Orli observed with dark satisfaction. "I suspect a clandestine Defense Against the Dark Arts study group is about to materialize very shortly."
"When is this occurring? Are you and Harry both participating?" Dumbledore asked, though his tone suggested he already suspected the answer.
"The inaugural meeting is scheduled for this afternoon," Orli confirmed. "Harry and I aren't merely participants—we're expected to serve as instructors. While we're uncertain of the final attendance, numerous students have expressed enthusiasm for learning practical self-defense techniques."
"You absolutely refuse to maintain a low profile, don't you?" Snape fixed her with an intense stare, his obsidian eyes reflecting not just anger but a thread of helpless exasperation. "Forever seeking new ways to entangle yourself in dangerous situations."
"I'm being somewhat coerced into this..." Orli admitted with diminished confidence, unconsciously shuffling half a step closer to him. The movement was instinctive, seeking comfort in his proximity despite his obvious displeasure. "I promise I'll exercise extreme caution."
"Orli, I require nothing from you on my behalf," Dumbledore said with gentle firmness, his ancient eyes soft with paternal concern. "My only wish is that you avoid injury during these practice sessions. Can you promise me that much?"
His gaze moved deliberately between Snape and Orli, as if reading the undercurrents flowing between them.
"Remus and I have pressing matters to attend to, so we must take our leave," Dumbledore announced, rising from his chair with fluid grace. "Incidentally, Orli, I found the Lady in Pink chronicles quite... illuminating."
With a casual wave of his hand, he and Lupin Disapparated simultaneously, leaving only the faintest pop of displaced air.
The room plunged into an almost supernatural silence. In the hallway, the ancient three-legged stool that had been wobbling precariously finally surrendered to gravity, collapsing onto the dust-covered floor with a sharp, splintering crack that seemed to echo through the empty house.
Orli found herself drowning in a peculiar cocktail of helplessness and panic. Despite having a thousand things she desperately wanted to say, she felt as immobilized as if someone had cast a full Body-Bind Curse on her. How was she supposed to navigate this moment alone with Snape?
This marked their first private encounter in over a month, yet instead of relief or joy, she felt nothing but awkward tension. Should she speak first? Make some gesture? If she moved closer, would he interpret it as presumptuous?
Her mind churned through endless possibilities until she thought she might actually lose her sanity. She'd observed Hermione and Ron navigate their complicated relationship with apparent ease, yet when faced with her own romantic confusion, her brain transformed into complete porridge.
That's when Snape broke the silence. His voice emerged low and uncertain, carrying an uncharacteristic note of hesitation that made her heart skip.
"So..." he began, almost reluctantly, "what exactly constitutes this 'Lady in Pink' phenomenon?"
Orli burst into delighted laughter, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in her chest. The tension that had been coiled tight in her shoulders finally released, allowing her entire body to relax for the first time since Dumbledore and Lupin had departed.
"Professor," she said, her eyes dancing with mischief as she grinned at him, "I'm venturing a guess that you've never so much as glanced at the gossip fiction section of the Daily Prophet, and you certainly don't maintain a subscription to The Quibbler, do you?"
"Why in Merlin's name would I waste precious time consuming such absolute drivel?" Snape replied, his aristocratic features twisting with instinctive distaste. But his razor-sharp instincts were already connecting the dots: "This wouldn't happen to involve our delightfully pink-obsessed High Inquisitor, would it?"
"I genuinely don't believe anyone in the entire wizarding world could possibly be more aggressively pink than Dolores Umbridge," Orli replied, her smile carrying more than a hint of smug satisfaction at her literary revenge.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
Read up to (180+ ) advanced chapters on Patre\on
Visit us here: patreon.com/DarkGolds
Happy reading, everyone!