Getaway Car

Hermione's Worrisome Self.

"So," Umbridge said slowly and loudly as though speaking to somebody deaf. "You're Hagrid, are you?" Without waiting for an answer, she strolled into the room, her bulging eyes rolling in every direction.
"Get away," she snapped, waving her handbag at Fang, who had bounded up to her and was attempting to lick her face.

"Er— I don' want ter be rude," said Hagrid, staring at her, "but who the ruddy hell are you?"

"My name is Dolores Umbridge." Her eyes were sweeping the cabin. Twice, they stared directly into the corner where the four students stood.

"Dolores Umbridge?" Hagrid said, sounding thoroughly confused. "I thought you were one o' them Ministry— don' you work with Fudge."

"I was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, yes," said Umbridge, now pacing around the cabin, taking in every tiny detail within, from the haversack against the wall to the abandoned travelling cloak. "I am now the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—"

"Tha's brave of yeh," said Hagrid, "there's not many'd take tha' job anymore—"

"—and Hogwarts High Inquisitor," said Umbridge, giving no sign that she'd heard him.

"Wha's that?" said Hagrid, frowning.

"Precisely what I was going to ask," said Umbridge, pointing at the broken shards of china on the floor that had been Hermione's mug.

"Oh," said Hagrid with a most unhelpful glance toward the corner where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) stood hidden, "oh, tha' was... was Fang. He broke a mug. So I had ter use this one instead."
Hagrid pointed to the mug from which he had been drinking, one hand still clamped over the dragon steak to his eye. Umbridge stood facing him now, taking in every detail of his appearance instead of the cabin's.

"I heard voices," she said quietly.

"I was talkin' ter Fang," said Hagrid stoutly.

"And was he talking back to you?"

"Well... in a manner o' speakin'," said Hagrid, looking uncomfortable. "I sometimes say Fang's near enough human—"

"There are three sets of footprints in the snow leading from the castle doors to your cabin," said Umbridge sleekly.
Hermione gasped; (Y/n)'s hand flew over her mouth, pulling Hermione closer as a result. Luckily, Fang was sniffing loudly around the hem of Professor Umbridge's robes, and she did not appear to have heard.

"Well, I on'y jus' got back," said Hagrid, waving an enormous hand at the haversack. "Maybe someone came ter call earlier an' I missed 'em."

"There are no footsteps leading away from your cabin door."

"Well I... I don't know what that'd be..." said Hagrid, tugging nervously at his beard and again glancing toward the corner where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) stood as though asking for help. "Erm..."

Umbridge wheeled around and strode the length of the cabin, looking around carefully. She bent and peered under the bed. She opened Hagrid's cupboards. She passed within two inches of where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) stood pressed against the wall; Harry actually pulled in his stomach as she walked by. After looking carefully inside the enormous cauldron Hagrid used for cooking, she wheeled around again and said, "What has happened to you? How did you sustain those injuries?"

Hagrid hastily removed the dragon steak from his face, which might have been a mistake, because the black-and-purple bruising all around his eye was now clearly visible, not to mention the large amount of fresh and congealed blood on his face. "Oh, I... had a bit of an accident," he said lamely.

"What sort of accident?"

"I-I tripped."

"You tripped," Umbridge repeated coolly.