Untitled Part 17
Harry felt happier for the rest of the weekend than hehad done all term. He and Ron spent much of Sundaycatching up with all their homework again, and althoughthis could hardly be called fun, the last burst of autumnsunshine persisted, so rather than sitting hunched overtables in the common room, they took their work outsideand lounged in the shade of a large beech tree on the edgeof the lake. Hermione, who of course was up to date with allher work, brought more wool outside with her andbewitched her knitting needles so that they flashed andclicked in midair beside her, producing more hats andscarves.
The knowledge that they were doing something to resistUmbridge and the Ministry, and that he was a key part ofthe rebellion, gave Harry a feeling of immense satisfaction.He kept reliving Saturday's meeting in his mind: all thosepeople, coming to him to learn Defense Against the DarkArts ... and the looks on their faces as they had heard someof the things he had done ... and Cho praising hisperformance in the Triwizard Tournament. ... Theknowledge that all those people did not think him a lyingweirdo, but someone to be admired, buoyed him up somuch that he was still cheerful on Monday morning, despitethe imminent prospect of all his least favorite classes.
He and Ron headed downstairs from their dormitorytogether, discussing Angelina's idea that they were to workon a new move called the Sloth Grip Roll during that night'sQuidditch practice, and not until they were halfway acrossthe sunlit common room did they notice the addition to theroom that had already attracted the attention of a smallgroup of people.
A large sign had been affixed to the Gryffindor noticeboard, so large that it covered everything else on there —the lists of secondhand spellbooks for sale, the regularreminders of school rules from Argus Filch, the Quidditchteam training schedule, the offers to barter certainChocolate Frog cards for others, the Weasleys' newadvertisement for testers, the dates of the Hogsmeadeweekends, and the lost-and-found notices. The new signwas printed in large black letters and there was a highlyofficial-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curlysignature.
— BY ORDER OF —
THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, andClubs are henceforth disbanded.
An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is herebydefined as a regular meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the HighInquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Clubmay exist without the knowledge and approval of the HighInquisitor.
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, anOrganization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has notbeen approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with
Educational Decree Number Twenty-four
Signed:
Dolores Jane Umbridge
HIGH INQUISITOR
Harry and Ron read the notice over the heads of someanxious-looking second years.
"Does this mean they're going to shut down theGobstones Club?" one of them asked his friend.
"I reckon you'll be okay with Gobstones," Ron said darkly,making the second year jump. "I don't think we're going tobe as lucky, though, do you?" he asked Harry as the secondyears hurried away.
Harry was reading the notice through again. Thehappiness that had filled him since Saturday was gone. Hisinsides were pulsing with rage.
"This isn't a coincidence," he said, his hands forming fists."She knows."
"She can't," said Ron at once.
"There were people listening in that pub. And let's face it,we don't know how many of the people who turned up wecan trust. ... Any of them could have run off and toldUmbridge. ..."
And he had thought they believed him, thought they evenadmired him ...
"Zacharias Smith!" said Ron at once, punching a fist intohis hand. "Or — I thought that Michael Corner had a reallyshifty look too —"
"I wonder if Hermione's seen this yet?" Harry said,looking around at the door to the girls' dormitories.
"Let's go and tell her," said Ron. He bounded forward,pulled open the door, and set off up the spiral staircase.
He was on the sixth stair when it happened. There was aloud, wailing, klaxonlike sound and the steps meltedtogether to make a long, smooth stone slide. There was abrief moment when Ron tried to keep running, armsworking madly like windmills, then he toppled overbackward and shot down the newly created slide, coming torest on his back at Harry's feet.
"Er — I don't think we're allowed in the girls'dormitories," said Harry, pulling Ron to his feet and tryingnot to laugh.
Two fourth-year girls came zooming gleefully down thestone slide.
"Oooh, who tried to get upstairs?" they giggled happily,leaping to their feet and ogling Harry and Ron.
"Me," said Ron, who was still rather disheveled. "I didn'trealize that would happen. It's not fair!" he added to Harry,as the girls headed off for the portrait hole, still gigglingmadly. "Hermione's allowed in our dormitory, how comewe're not allowed — ?"
"Well, it's an old-fashioned rule," said Hermione, who hadjust slid neatly onto a rug in front of them and was nowgetting to her feet, "but it says in Hogwarts, A History thatthe founders thought boys were less trustworthy than girls.Anyway, why were you trying to get in there?"
"To see you — look at this!" said Ron, dragging her overto the notice board.
Hermione's eyes slid rapidly down the notice. Herexpression became stony.
"Someone must have blabbed to her!" Ron said angrily."They can't have done," said Hermione in a low voice.
"You're so naive," said Ron, "you think just because you'reall honorable and trustworthy —"
"No, they can't have done because I put a jinx on thatpiece of parchment we all signed," said Hermione grimly."Believe me, if anyone's run off and told Umbridge, we'llknow exactly who they are and they will really regret it."
"What'll happen to them?" said Ron eagerly.
"Well, put it this way," said Hermione, "it'll make EloiseMidgen's acne look like a couple of cute freckles. Come on,let's get down to breakfast and see what the others think. ...I wonder whether this has been put up in all the Houses?"
It was immediately apparent on entering the Great Hallthat Umbridge's sign had not only appeared in GryffindorTower. There was a peculiar intensity about the chatter andan extra measure of movement in the Hall as peoplescurried up and down their tables conferring on what theyhad read. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had barely taken theirseats when Neville, Dean, Fred, George, and Ginnydescended upon them.
"Did you see it?"
"D'you reckon she knows?"
"What are we going to do?"
They were all looking at Harry. He glanced around tomake sure there were no teachers near them.
"We're going to do it anyway, of course," he said quietly.
"Knew you'd say that," said George, beaming andthumping Harry on the arm.
"The prefects as well?" said Fred, looking quizzically atRon and Hermione.
"Of course," said Hermione coolly.
"Here comes Ernie and Hannah Abbott," said Ron,looking over his shoulder. "And those Ravenclaw blokes andSmith ... and no one looks very spotty."
Hermione looked alarmed.
"Never mind spots, the idiots can't come over here now,it'll look really suspicious — sit down!" she mouthed toErnie and Hannah, gesturing frantically to them to rejointhe Hufflepuff table. "Later! We'll — talk — to — you —later!"
"I'll tell Michael," said Ginny impatiently, swinging herselfoff her bench. "The fool, honestly ..."
She hurried off toward the Ravenclaw table; Harrywatched her go. Cho was sitting not far away, talking to thecurly-haired friend she had brought along to the Hog'sHead. Would Umbridge's notice scare her off meeting themagain?
But the full repercussions of the sign were not felt untilthey were leaving the Great Hall for History of Magic.
"Harry! Ron!"
It was Angelina and she was hurrying toward themlooking perfectly desperate.
"It's okay," said Harry quietly, when she was near enoughto hear him. "We're still going to —"
"You realize she's including Quidditch in this?" Angelinasaid over him. "We have to go and ask permission to reform the Gryffindor team!"
"What?" said Harry.
"No way," said Ron, appalled.
"You read the sign, it mentions teams too! So listen, Harry... I am saying this for the last time. ... Please, please don'tlose your temper with Umbridge again or she might not letus play anymore!"
"Okay, okay," said Harry, for Angelina looked as thoughshe was on the verge of tears. "Don't worry, I'll behavemyself. ..."
"Bet Umbridge is in History of Magic," said Ron grimly, asthey set off for Binns's lesson. "She hasn't inspected Binnsyet. ... Bet you anything she's there. ..."
But he was wrong; the only teacher present when theyentered was Professor Binns, floating an inch or so abovehis chair as usual and preparing to continue hismonotonous drone on giant wars. Harry did not evenattempt to follow what he was saying today; he doodled idlyon his parchment ignoring Hermione's frequent glares andnudges, until a particularly painful poke in the ribs madehim look up angrily.
"What?"
She pointed at the window. Harry looked around. Hedwigwas perched on the narrow window ledge, gazing throughthe thick glass at him, a letter tied to her leg. Harry couldnot understand it; they had just had breakfast, why onearth hadn't she delivered the letter then, as usual? Manyof his classmates were pointing out Hedwig to each othertoo.
"Oh, I've always loved that owl, she's so beautiful," Harryheard Lavender sigh to Parvati.
He glanced around at Professor Binns who continued toread his notes, serenely unaware that the class's attentionwas even less focused upon him than usual. Harry slippedquietly off his chair, crouched down, and hurried along therow to the window, where he slid the catch and opened itvery slowly.
He had expected Hedwig to hold out her leg so that hecould remove the letter and then fly off to the Owlery, butthe moment the window was open wide enough she hoppedinside, hooting dolefully. He closed the window with ananxious glance at Professor Binns, crouched low again, andsped back to his seat with Hedwig on his shoulder. Heregained his seat, transferred Hedwig to his lap, and madeto remove the letter tied to her leg.
It was only then that he realized that Hedwig's featherswere oddly ruffled; some were bent the wrong way, and shewas holding one of her wings at an odd angle.
"She's hurt!" Harry whispered, bending his head low overher. Hermione and Ron leaned in closer; Hermione even putdown her quill. "Look — there's something wrong with herwing —"
Hedwig was quivering; when Harry made to touch thewing she gave a little jump, all her feathers on end asthough she was inflating herself, and gazed at himreproachfully.
"Professor Binns," said Harry loudly, and everyone in theclass turned to look at him. "I'm not feeling well."
Professor Binns raised his eyes from his notes, lookingamazed, as always, to find the room in front of him full ofpeople.
"Not feeling well?"he repeated hazily.
"Not at all well," said Harry firmly, getting to his feetwhile concealing Hedwig behind his back. "So I think I'llneed to go to the hospital wing."
"Yes," said Professor Binns, clearly very much wrongfooted. "Yes ... yes, hospital wing ... well, off you go, then,Perkins ..."
Once outside the room Harry returned Hedwig to hisshoulder and hurried off up the corridor, pausing to thinkonly when he was out of sight of Binns's door. His firstchoice of somebody to cure Hedwig would have beenHagrid, of course, but as he had no idea where Hagrid was,his only remaining option was to find Professor GrubblyPlank and hope she would help.
He peered out of a window at the blustery, overcastgrounds. There was no sign of her anywhere near Hagrid'scabin; if she was not teaching, she was probably in thestaffroom. He set off downstairs, Hedwig hooting feebly asshe swayed on his shoulder.
Two stone gargoyles flanked the staffroom door. As Harryapproached, one of them croaked, "You should be in class,sunny Jim."
"This is urgent," said Harry curtly.
"Ooooh, urgent, is it?" said the other gargoyle in a highpitched voice. "Well, that's put us in our place, hasn't it?"
Harry knocked; he heard footsteps and then the dooropened and he found himself face-to-face with ProfessorMcGonagall.
"You haven't been given another detention!" she said atonce, her square spectacles flashing alarmingly.
"No, Professor!" said Harry hastily.
"Well then, why are you out of class?"
"It's urgent, apparently," said the second gargoyle snidely.
"I'm looking for Professor Grubbly-Plank," Harryexplained. "It's my owl, she's injured."
"Injured owl, did you say?"
Professor Grubbly-Plank appeared at ProfessorMcGonagall's shoulder, smoking a pipe and holding a copyof the Daily Prophet.
"Yes," said Harry, lifting Hedwig carefully off his shoulder,"she turned up after the other post owls and her wing's allfunny, look —"
Professor Grubbly-Plank stuck her pipe firmly betweenher teeth and took Hedwig from Harry while ProfessorMcGonagall watched.
"Hmm," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, her pipe wagglingslightly as she talked. "Looks like something's attacked her.Can't think what would have done it, though. ... Thestralswill sometimes go for birds, of course, but Hagrid's got theHogwarts thestrals well trained not to touch owls ..."
Harry neither knew nor cared what thestrals were, hejust wanted to know that Hedwig was going to be all right.Professor McGonagall, however, looked sharply at Harryand said, "Do you know how far this owl's traveled, Potter?"
"Er," said Harry. "From London, I think."He met her eyes briefly and knew that she understood"London" to mean "number twelve, Grimmauld Place" bythe way her eyebrows had joined in the middle.
Professor Grubbly-Plank pulled a monocle out of theinside of her robes and screwed it into her eye to examineHedwig's wing closely. "I should be able to sort this out ifyou leave her with me, Potter," she said. "She shouldn't beflying long distances for a few days, in any case."
"Er — right — thanks," said Harry, just as the bell rang forbreak.
"No problem," said Professor Grubbly-Plank gruffly,turning back into the staffroom.
"Just a moment, Wilhelmina!" said Professor McGonagall."Potter's letter!"
"Oh yeah!" said Harry, who had momentarily forgottenthe scroll tied to Hedwig's leg. Professor Grubbly-Plankhanded it over and then disappeared into the staffroomcarrying Hedwig, who was staring at Harry as thoughunable to believe he would give her away like this. Feelingslightly guilty, he turned to go, but Professor McGonagallcalled him back.
"Potter!"
"Yes, Professor?"
She glanced up and down the corridor; there werestudents coming from both directions.
"Bear in mind," she said quickly and quietly, her eyes onthe scroll in his hand, "that channels of communication inand out of Hogwarts may be being watched, won't you?"
"I —" said Harry, but the flood of students rolling alongthe corridor was almost upon him. Professor McGonagallgave him a curt nod and retreated into the staffroom,leaving Harry to be swept out into the courtyard with thecrowd. Here he spotted Ron and Hermione alreadystanding in a sheltered corner, their cloak collars turned upagainst the wind. Harry slit open the scroll as he hurriedtoward them and found five words in Sirius's handwriting:
Today, same time, same place.
"Is Hedwig okay?" asked Hermione anxiously, the momenthe was within earshot.
"Where did you take her?"
asked Ron."To Grubbly-Plank," said Harry. "And I met McGonagall. ...Listen. ..."
And he told them what Professor McGonagall had said. Tohis surprise, neither of the others looked shocked; on thecontrary, they exchanged significant looks.
"What?" said Harry, looking from Ron to Hermione andback again.
"Well, I was just saying to Ron ... what if someone hadtried to intercept Hedwig? I mean, she's never been hurt ona flight before, has she?"
"Who's the letter from anyway?" asked Ron, taking thenote from Harry.
"Snuffles," said Harry quietly.
" 'Same time, same place'? Does he mean the fire in thecommon room?"
"Obviously," said Hermione, also reading the note. Shelooked uneasy. "I just hope nobody else has read this. ..."
"But it was still sealed and everything," said Harry, tryingto convince himself as much as her. "And nobody wouldunderstand what it meant if they didn't know where we'dspoken to him before, would they?"
"I don't know," said Hermione anxiously, hitching her bagback over her shoulder as the bell rang again. "It wouldn'tbe exactly difficult to reseal the scroll by magic. ... And ifanyone's watching the Floo Network ... but I don't reallysee how we can warn him not to come without that beingintercepted too!"
They trudged down the stone steps to the dungeons forPotions, all three of them lost in thought, but as theyreached the bottom of the stairs they were recalled tothemselves by the voice of Draco Malfoy, who was standingjust outside Snape's classroom door, waving around anofficial-looking piece of parchment and talking much louderthan was necessary so that they could hear every word.
"Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch teampermission to continue playing straightaway, I went to askher first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty muchautomatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he'salways popping in and out of the Ministry. ... It'll beinteresting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keepplaying, wont it?"
"Don't rise," Hermione whispered imploringly to Harryand Ron, who were both watching Malfoy, faces set and fistsclenched. "It's what he wants. ..."
"I mean," said Malfoy, raising his voice a little more, hisgray eyes glittering malevolently in Harry and Ron'sdirection, "if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, Idon't think they've got much chance. ... From what myfather says, they've been looking for an excuse to sackArthur Weasley for years. ... And as for Potter ... My fathersays it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him cartedoff to St. Mungo's. ... apparently they've got a special wardfor people whose brains have been addled by magic. ..."
Malfoy made a grotesque face, his mouth sagging openand his eyes rolling. Crabbe and Goyle gave their usualgrunts of laughter, Pansy Parkinson shrieked with glee.
Something collided hard with Harry's shoulder, knockinghim sideways. A split second later he realized that Nevillehad just charged past him, heading straight for Malfoy.
"Neville, no!"
Harry leapt forward and seized the back of Neville'srobes; Neville struggled frantically, his fists flailing, tryingdesperately to get at Malfoy who looked, for a moment,extremely shocked.
"Help me!" Harry flung at Ron, managing to get an armaround Neville's neck and dragging him backward, awayfrom the Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle were now flexingtheir arms, closing in front of Malfoy, ready for the fight.Ron hurried forward and seized Neville's arms; together, heand Harry succeeded in dragging Neville back into theGryffindor line. Neville's face was scarlet; the pressureHarry was exerting on his throat rendered him quiteincomprehensible, but odd words spluttered from hismouth.
"Not... funny ... don't ... Mungo's ... show ... him ..."
The dungeon door opened. Snape appeared there. Hisblack eyes swept up the Gryffindor line to the point whereHarry and Ron were wrestling with Neville.
"Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom?" Snape said inhis cold, sneering voice. "Ten points from Gryffindor.Release Longbottom, Potter, or it will be detention. Inside,all of you."
Harry let go of Neville, who stood panting and glaring athim.
"I had to stop you," Harry gasped, picking up his bag."Crabbe and Goyle would've torn you apart."
Neville said nothing, he merely snatched up his own bagand stalked off into the dungeon.
"What in the name of Merlin," said Ron slowly, as theyfollowed Neville, "was that about?"
Harry did not answer. He knew exactly why the subject ofpeople who were in St. Mungo's because of magicaldamage to their brains was highly distressing to Neville,but he had sworn to Dumbledore that he would not tellanyone Neville's secret. Even Neville did not know thatHarry knew.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione took their usual seats at theback of the class and pulled out parchment, quills, and theircopies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Theclass around them was whispering about what Neville hadjust done, but when Snape closed the dungeon door with anechoing bang everybody fell silent immediately.
"You will notice," said Snape in his low, sneering voice,"that we have a guest with us today."
He gestured toward the dim corner of the dungeon, andHarry saw Professor Umbridge sitting there, clipboard onher knee. He glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione, hiseyebrows raised. Snape and Umbridge, the two teachers hehated most ... it was hard to decide which he wanted totriumph over the other.
"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutionstoday, you will find your mixtures as you left them lastlesson, if correctly made they should have matured wellover the weekend — instructions" — he waved his wandagain — "on the board. Carry on."
Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lessonmaking notes in her corner. Harry was very interested inhearing her question Snape, so interested, that he wasbecoming careless with his potion again.
"Salamander blood, Harry!" Hermione moaned, grabbinghis wrist to prevent him adding the wrong ingredient forthe third time. "Not pomegranate juice!"
"Right," said Harry vaguely, putting down the bottle andcontinuing to watch the corner. Umbridge had just gottento her feet. "Ha," he said softly, as she strode between twolines of desks toward Snape, who was bending over DeanThomas's cauldron.
"Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level," shesaid briskly to Snape's back. "Though I would questionwhether it is advisable to teach them a potion like theStrengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer itif that was removed from the syllabus."
Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her.
"Now ... how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?"she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.
"Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression wasunfathomable. His eyes on Snape, Harry added a few dropsto his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned fromturquoise to orange.
"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Artspost, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.
"Yes," said Snape quietly.
"But you were unsuccessful?"
Snape's lip curled.
"Obviously."
Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard.
"And you have applied regularly for the Defense Againstthe Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, Ibelieve?"
"Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. Helooked very angry.
"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistentlyrefused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge.
"I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily.
"Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile.
"I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyesnarrowed.
"Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministrywants a thorough understanding of teachers' — er —backgrounds. ..."
She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson andbegan questioning her about the lessons. Snape lookedaround at Harry and their eyes met for a second. Harryhastily dropped his gaze to his potion, which was nowcongealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burnedrubber.
"No marks again, then, Potter," said Snape maliciously,emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. "Youwill write me an essay on the correct composition of thispotion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to behanded in next lesson, do you understand?"
"Yes," said Harry furiously. Snape had already given themhomework, and he had Quidditch practice this evening; thiswould mean another couple of sleepless nights. It did notseem possible that he had awoken that morning feelingvery happy. All he felt now was a fervent desire for this dayto end as soon as possible.
"Maybe I'll skive off Divination," he said glumly as theystood again in the courtyard after lunch, the wind whippingat the hems of robes and brims of hats. "I'll pretend to be illand do Snape's essay instead, then I won't have to stay uphalf the night. ..."
"You can't skive off Divination," said Hermione severely."Hark who's talking, you walked out of Divination, youhate Trelawney!" said Ron indignantly.
"I don't hate her," said Hermione loftily. "I just think she'san absolutely appalling teacher and a real old fraud. ... ButHarry's already missed History of Magic and I don't thinkhe ought to miss anything else today!"
There was too much truth in this to ignore, so half anhour later Harry took his seat in the hot, over-perfumedatmosphere of the Divination classroom feeling angry ateverybody. Professor Trelawney was handing out copies ofThe Dream Oracle yet again; he would surely be muchbetter employed doing Snape's punishment essay thansitting here trying to find meaning in a lot of made-updreams.
It seemed, however, that he was not the only person inDivination who was in a temper. Professor Trelawneyslammed a copy of the Oracle down on the table betweenHarry and Ron and swept away, her lips pursed; she threwthe next copy of the Oracle at Seamus and Dean, narrowlyavoiding Seamus's head, and thrust the final one intoNeville's chest with such force that he slipped off his pouf.
"Well, carry on!" said Professor Trelawney loudly, hervoice high pitched and somewhat hysterical. "You knowwhat to do! Or am I such a substandard teacher that youhave never learned how to open a book?"
The class stared perplexedly at her and then at eachother. Harry, however, thought he knew what was thematter. As Professor Trelawney flounced back to the highbacked teacher's chair, her magnified eyes full of angrytears, he leaned his head closer to Ron's and muttered, "Ithink she's got the results of her inspection back."
"Professor?" said Parvati Patil in a hushed voice (she andLavender had always rather admired Professor Trelawney)."Professor, is there anything — er — wrong?"
"Wrong!" cried Professor Trelawney in a voice throbbingwith emotion. "Certainly not! I have been insulted, certainly.... Insinuations have been made against me. ... Unfoundedaccusations levelled ... but no, there is nothing wrong,certainly not. ..."
She took a great shuddering breath and looked awayfrom Parvati, angry tears spilling from under her glasses.
"I say nothing," she choked, "of sixteen years' devotedservice. ... It has passed, apparently, unnoticed. ... But Ishall not be insulted, no, I shall not!"
"But Professor, who's insulting you?" asked Parvatitimidly.
"The establishment!" said Professor Trelawney in a deep,dramatic, wavering voice. "Yes, those with eyes too cloudedby the Mundane to See as I See, to Know as I Know ... Ofcourse, we Seers have always been feared, alwayspersecuted. ... It is — alas — our fate. ..."
She gulped, dabbed at her wet cheeks with the end of hershawl, and then pulled a small, embroidered handkerchieffrom her sleeve, into which she blew her nose very hardwith a sound like Peeves blowing a raspberry. Ronsniggered. Lavender shot him a disgusted look.
"Professor," said Parvati, "do you mean ... is it somethingProfessor Umbridge ... ?"
"Do not speak to me about that woman!" cried ProfessorTrelawney, leaping to her feet, her beads rattling and herspectacles flashing. "Kindly continue with your work!"
And she spent the rest of the lesson striding among them,tears still leaking from behind her glasses, muttering whatsounded like threats under her breath.
"... may well choose to leave ... the indignity of it ... onprobation ... we shall see ... how she dares ..."
"You and Umbridge have got something in common,"Harry told Hermione quietly when they met again inDefense Against the Dark Arts. "She obviously reckonsTrelawney's an old fraud too. ... Looks like she's put her onprobation."
Umbridge entered the room as he spoke, wearing herblack velvet bow and an expression of great smugness.
"Good afternoon, class."
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanteddrearily.
"Wands away, please ..."
But there was no answering flurry of movement this time;nobody had bothered to take out their wands.
"Please turn to page thirty-four of Defensive MagicalTheory and read the third chapter, entitled 'The Case forNon-Offensive Responses to Magical Attack.' There will be—"
"— no need to talk," Harry, Ron, and Hermione saidtogether under their breaths.
"No Quidditch practice," said Angelina in hollow toneswhen Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the common roomthat night after dinner.
"But I kept my temper!" said Harry, horrified. "I didn't sayanything to her, Angelina, I swear, I —"
"I know, I know," said Angelina miserably. "She just saidshe needed a bit of time to consider."
"Consider what?" said Ron angrily. "She's given theSlytherins permission, why not us?"
But Harry could imagine how much Umbridge wasenjoying holding the threat of no Gryffindor Quidditch teamover their heads and could easily understand why shewould not want to relinquish that weapon over them toosoon.
"Well," said Hermione, "look on the bright side — at leastnow you'll have time to do Snape's essay!"
"That's a bright side, is it?" snapped Harry, while Ronstared incredulously at Hermione. "No Quidditch practiceand extra Potions?"
Harry slumped down into a chair, dragged his Potionsessay reluctantly from his bag, and set to work.
It was very hard to concentrate; even though he knewthat Sirius was not due in the fire until much later he couldnot help glancing into the flames every few minutes just incase. There was also an incredible amount of noise in theroom: Fred and George appeared finally to have perfectedone type of Skiving Snackbox, which they were taking turnsto demonstrate to a cheering and whooping crowd.
First, Fred would take a bite out of the orange end of achew, at which he would vomit spectacularly into a bucketthey had placed in front of them. Then he would force downthe purple end of the chew, at which the vomiting wouldimmediately cease. Lee Jordan, who was assisting thedemonstration, was lazily vanishing the vomit at regularintervals with the same Vanishing Spell Snape kept using onHarry's potions.
What with the regular sounds of retching, cheering, andFred and George taking advance orders from the crowd,Harry was finding it exceptionally difficult to focus on thecorrect method for Strengthening Solutions. Hermione wasnot helping matters; the cheers and sound of vomit hittingthe bottom of Fred and George's bucket were punctuatedby loud and disapproving sniffs that Harry found, ifanything, more distracting.
"Just go and stop them, then!" he said irritably, aftercrossing out the wrong weight of powdered griffin claw forthe fourth time.
"I can't, they're not technically doing anything wrong,"said Hermione through gritted teeth. "They're quite withintheir rights to eat the foul things themselves, and I can'tfind a rule that says the other idiots aren't entitled to buythem, not unless they're proven to be dangerous in someway, and it doesn't look as though they are. ..."
She, Harry, and Ron watched George projectile-vomit intothe bucket, gulp down the rest of the chew, and straightenup, beaming with his arms wide to protracted applause.
"You know, I don't get why Fred and George only gotthree O.W.L.s each," said Harry, watching as Fred, George,and Lee collected gold from the eager crowd. "They reallyknow their stuff. ..."
"Oh, they only know flashy stuff that's no real use toanyone," said Hermione disparagingly.
"No real use?" said Ron in a strained voice. "Hermione,they've got about twenty-six Galleons already. ..."
It was a long while before the crowd around the Weasleysdispersed, and then Fred, Lee, and George sat up countingtheir takings even longer, so that it was well past midnightwhen Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally had the commonroom to themselves again. At long last, Fred closed thedoorway to the boys' dormitories behind him, rattling hisbox of Galleons ostentatiously so that Hermione scowled.Harry, who was making very little progress with his Potionsessay, decided to give it up for the night. As he put his booksaway, Ron, who was dozing lightly in an armchair, gave amuffled grunt, awoke, looked blearily into the fire and said,"Sirius!"
Harry whipped around; Sirius's untidy dark head wassitting in the fire again.
"Hi," he said, grinning.
"Hi," chorused Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all threekneeling down upon the hearthrug. Crookshanks purredloudly and approached the fire, trying, despite the heat, toput his face close to Sirius's.
"How're things?" said Sirius.
"Not that good," said Harry, as Hermione pulledCrookshanks back to stop him singeing his whiskers. "TheMinistry's forced through another decree, which meanswe're not allowed to have Quidditch teams —"
"— or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?" saidSirius.
There was a short pause.
"How did you know about that?" Harry demanded.
"You want to choose your meeting places more carefully,"said Sirius, grinning still more broadly. "The Hog's Head, Iask you ..."
"Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!" saidHermione defensively. "That's always packed with people—"
"— which means you'd have been harder to overhear,"said Sirius. "You've got a lot to learn, Hermione."
"Who overheard us?" Harry demanded.
"Mundungus, of course," said Sirius, and when they alllooked puzzled he laughed. "He was the witch under theveil."
"That was Mundungus?" Harry said, stunned. "What washe doing in the Hog's Head?"
"What do you think he was doing?" said Sirius impatiently."Keeping an eye on you, of course."
"I'm still being followed?" asked Harry angrily.
"Yeah, you are," said Sirius, "and just as well, isn't it, ifthe first thing you're going to do on your weekend off isorganize an illegal defense group."
But he looked neither angry nor worried; on the contrary,he was looking at Harry with distinct pride.
"Why was Dung hiding from us?" asked Ron, soundingdisappointed. "We'd've liked to've seen him."
"He was banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago,"said Sirius, "and that barman's got a long memory. We lostMoody's spare Invisibility Cloak when Sturgis was arrested,so Dung's been dressing as a witch a lot lately. ... Anyway ...First of all, Ron — I've sworn to pass on a message fromyour mother."
"Oh yeah?" said Ron, sounding apprehensive.
"She says on no account whatsoever are you to take partin an illegal secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group.She says you'll be expelled for sure and your future will beruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how todefend yourself later and that you are too young to beworrying about that right now. She also" — Sirius's eyesturned to the other two — "advises Harry and Hermione notto proceed with the group, though she accepts that she hasno authority over either of them and simply begs them toremember that she has their best interests at heart. Shewould have written all this to you, but if the owl had beenintercepted you'd all have been in real trouble, and shecan't say it for herself because she's on duty tonight."
"On duty doing what?" said Ron quickly.
"Never you mind, just stuff for the Order," said Sirius. "Soit's fallen to me to be the messenger and make sure you tellher I passed it all on, because I don't think she trusts meto."
There was another pause in which Crookshanks, mewing,attempted to paw Sirius's head, and Ron fiddled with a holein the hearthrug.
"So you want me to say I'm not going to take part in thedefense group?" he muttered finally.
"Me? Certainly not!" said Sirius, looking surprised. "Ithink it's an excellent idea!"
"You do?" said Harry, his heart lifting.
"Of course I do!" said Sirius. "D'you think your father andI would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag likeUmbridge?"
"But — last term all you did was tell me to be careful andnot take risks —"
"Last year all the evidence was that someone insideHogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!" said Siriusimpatiently. "This year we know that there's someoneoutside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learningto defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!"
"And if we do get expelled?" Hermione asked, a quizzicallook on her face.
"Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!" said Harry,staring at her.
"I know it was. ... I just wondered what Sirius thought,"she said, shrugging.
"Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves thansitting safely in school without a clue," said Sirius.
"Hear, hear," said Harry and Ron enthusiastically.
"So," said Sirius, "how are you organizing this group?Where are you meeting?"
"Well, that's a bit of a problem now," said Harry. "Dunnowhere we're going to be able to go. ..."
"How about the Shrieking Shack?" suggested Sirius.
"Hey, that's an idea!" said Ron excitedly, but Hermionemade a skeptical noise and all three of them looked at her,Sirius's head turning in the flames.
"Well, Sirius, it's just that there were only four of youmeeting in the Shrieking Shack when you were at school,"said Hermione, "and all of you could transform into animalsand I suppose you could all have squeezed under a singleInvisibility Cloak if you'd wanted to. But there are twentyeight of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn'tneed so much an Invisibility Cloak as an InvisibilityMarquee —"
"Fair point," said Sirius, looking slightly crestfallen. "Well,I'm sure you'll come up with somewhere. ... There used tobe a pretty roomy secret passageway behind that bigmirror on the fourth floor, you might have enough space topractice jinxes in there —"
"Fred and George told me it's blocked," said Harry,shaking his head. "Caved in or something."
"Oh ..." said Sirius, frowning. "Well, I'll have a think andget back to —"
He broke off. His face was suddenly tense, alarmed. Heturned sideways, apparently looking into the solid brick wallof the fireplace.
"Sirius?" said Harry anxiously.
But he had vanished. Harry gaped at the flames for amoment, then turned to look at Ron and Hermione.
"Why did he — ?"Hermione gave a horrified gasp and leapt to her feet, stillstaring at the fire.
A hand had appeared amongst the flames, groping asthough to catch hold of something; a stubby, short-fingeredhand covered in ugly old-fashioned rings. ...
The three of them ran for it; at the door of the boys'dormitory Harry looked back. Umbridge's hand was stillmaking snatching movements amongst the flames, asthough she knew exactly where Sirius's hair had beenmoments before and was determined to seize it.
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