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chapter thirty-six. tw: post-birth death, and an abusive father. ( briefly mentioned, but still read with caution! ) ( through the back door )
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IT WAS PLAIN AND SIMPLE: UMBRIDGE HAD BEEN READING HARRY'S post, like the nosy wrench she was. Hermione had been adamant about it, as had Ascella, but Harry was slightly more sceptical. Ascella was still shaken from the night prior — Umbridge was so close the catching Sirius, and Ascella was willing to not speak with Sirius until she went home for Christmas, not wanting another situation like the night before to occur again.
"Umbridge has been reading your mail, Harry. There's no other explanation," stated Hermione.
"You think Umbridge attacked Hedwig?" he said, outraged.
"I'm almost certain of it," said Hermione grimly. "Watch your frog, it's escaping."
Harry pointed his wand at the bullfrog that had been hopping hopefully toward the other side of the table — "Accio!"— and it zoomed gloomily back into his hand.
Charms was always one of the best lessons in which to enjoy a private chat: There was generally so much movement and activity that the danger of being overheard was very slight. Today, with the room full of croaking bullfrogs and cawing ravens, and with a heavy downpour of rain clattering and pounding against the classroom windows, Ascella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione's whispered discussion about how Umbridge had nearly caught Sirius went quite unnoticed.
"I've been suspecting this ever since Filch accused you of ordering Dungbombs, because it seemed such a stupid lie," Hermione whispered. "I mean, once your letter had been read, it would have been quite clear you weren't ordering them, so you wouldn't have been in trouble at all — it's a bit of a feeble joke, isn't it? But then I thought, what if somebody just wanted an excuse to read your mail? Well then, it would be a perfect way for Umbridge to manage it — tip off Filch, let him do the dirty work and confiscate the letter, then either find a way of stealing it from him or else demand to see it — I don't think Filch would object, when's he ever stuck up for a student's rights? Harry, you're squashing your frog."
