WE'LL TAKE ON THE WORLD ; h.j.p.

9 | Knitted Hats And Lost Bowtruckles

Dinner in the Great Hall that night made it obvious that the news about Harry's shouting match with Umbridge had travelled exceptionally fast even by Hogwarts standards.

The whispers followed Harry up to his seat between Ron and Allison, and none of the people seemed to mind if Harry overheard what they were saying about him - in fact, it felt more like they were hoping he would get angry and start shouting again, so that they could hear his story first-hand.

"He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered..."

"He reckons he duelled with You-Know-Who..."

"Come off it..."

"Who does he think he's kidding?"

"Pur-lease..."

"What I don't get," said Harry in a shaking voice, laying down his knife and fork (his hands were trembling too much to hold them steady), "is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them..."

"The thing is, Harry, I'm not sure they did," said Hermione grimly.

In the same moment, a few seats down the Gryffindor table, Lavender and Parvati hid their giggling faces in their goblets. Their laughing only grew louder as Allison shot them a deadly glare.

"Oh, let's get out of here," Hermione said; she had followed Allie's eyes. She slammed down her own knife and fork; Ron looked sadly at his half-finished apple pie but followed suit. People stared at them all the way out of the Hall.

"What d'you mean, you're not sure they believed Dumbledore?" Harry asked Hermione when they reached the first-floor landing.

"Look, you don't understand what it was like after it happened," said Hermione quietly. "You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body...None of us saw what happened in the maze...We just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you."

"Which is the truth!" said Harry loudly.

"I know it is, Harry, so will you please stop biting my head off?" said Hermione wearily. "It's just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase and Dumbledore's going senile!"

Rain pounded on the window panes as they strode along the empty corridors back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Hermione said, before the Fat Lady could ask.

The portrait swung open to reveal the hole behind and the four scrambled back through it. The common room was almost empty; nearly everyone was still down at dinner. Crookshanks uncoiled himself from an armchair and trotted to meet them, purring loudly, and when they took their favourite chairs at the fireside he leapt lightly into Hermione's lap and curled up there like a furry ginger cushion.

"How can Dumbledore have let this happen?" cried Hermione suddenly, making them jump; Crookshanks leapt off her, looking affronted. She pounded the arms of her chair in fury, so that bits of stuffing leaked out of the holes. "How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our O.W.L. year too!"

"Well, we've never had great Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we?" Harry said. "You know what it's like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job, they say it's jinxed."

"Yes, but to employ someone who's actually refusing to let us do magic! What's Dumbledore playing at?"

"Maybe that's his way of trying to reconcile with Fudge," said Allie. "You know, so Fudge sees that he's talking utter bullshit."

"Oh please, there are about a hundred other ways to do that!" Hermione said. "That woman is just horrible -"

"And she's trying to get people to spy for her," said Ron darkly. "Remember when she said she wanted us to come and tell her if we hear anyone saying You-Know-Who's back?"