Lost Memories

xxvii. professor umbitch

Our next lesson was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Hermione and I didn't speak about our little disagreement before class while walking to meet Harry and Ron before class. Right before we entered the class, I pulled the three of them off to the side.

"I'm warning you from now: you will not like her, you will prefer Snape. Her detentions aren't like the other teachers'. This is not a game she plays fair," I spoke low to them.

Ron didn't take my warning seriously and scoffed at my comment about Snape.

"No professor would ever cause me to like Snape," he chuckled and pulled Harry towards the classroom.

"I'm not joking, Ron!" I followed him in.

When we entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Professor Umbridge was already seated at the teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head.

The class was very quiet as they entered the room, not knowing what to expect from the woman in front of them.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled "Good afternoon," in reply.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," we chanted back at her.

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum has unfortunately resulted in you being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

With great reluctance, I dipped the quill in my ink and wrote down,

Course aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2.Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three Course Aims she said, "I can assume everyone has got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard? I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Looking down at my opened textbook, I read the title about seven times before looking up at the ceiling in annoyance. Several silent minutes passed. Next to Harry, Ron was absentmindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page; Harry was falling asleep over his textbook, drool threatening to come out of his mouth. But Hermione, on the other hand, hadn't even opened her textbook. Her gaze fixed on Umbridge with her hand in the air.

"Hermione," I whispered at her, nudging her ribs. For a quick second, she shot me a look and turned her attention back at Umbridge.

At the noise of my whisper, Professor Umbridge snapped her eyes up from her own book and looked in our direction.

"No talking," she reminded us, completely ignoring Hermione's hand.

Hermione cleared her throat, calling the attention of Professor Umbridge and the students around her.