If You Love Her (Ron Weasley)

Five.

My argument with Seamus may have been resolved for the time being, but my stress and tension was far from gone. Having been to Divination immediately after dinner, following only being able to eat one sandwich, I was overwhelmed to breaking point and it was only the first day of term.

The level of homework we had been given by McGonagall, Snape and Trelawney was enough to make your eyes water, and Christ knows how much Umbridge would give, considering she already came across like an absolute bellend the night before. Excuse my language, but you'll agree, she deserves it. Well, you don't yet, but you will. I'm bad at this narration thing. Anyway.

Walking to Umbridge's class, knowing it was the last of the day, all I hoped was that she wouldn't set excessive homework and put too much stress onto us. I was already looking at a lengthy evening in the library, I didn't need more stuff to do.

As we walked into the classroom and selected our seats, I was grateful to be sat beside Neville, and not Seamus. I felt harsh for thinking it, but he was just such a calming influence on me, and actually, when you look past his nerves and self-doubt, he was a very intelligent boy and I loved to learn from him.

"Something isn't right about those course aims she's written," I mumbled to Neville, a bad feeling swarming in my gut as I read, and re-read, the words scrawled onto the black board at the front of the classroom.

Professor Umbridge was sat at her desk at the front of the classroom, a sickening smile plastered across her face. It unsettled me, I felt slightly nauseous as I looked at her, and she caught my eye. I felt a flicker of disgust flash through her eyes, and it was the gone as suddenly as it had arrived. I got an indescribably negative feeling from her, from day one.

"Good afternoon, class," Her voice rang through the classroom, once all of us had selected our seats and sat down, giving her our full attention. Silence fell very quickly when she spoke, she had a very strong hold over us immediately, for reasons nobody could describe. Perhaps because she was a Ministry official.

When nobody spoke in response, she 'tutted' rather loudly, an even bigger grin spreading across her face, though there wasn't a twinkle of happiness in her beady eyes. It was unnerving, certainly.

"That simply will not do! When I bid you a good afternoon, I expect a response!" Her voice went up at the end of every sentence, and it made me irrationally angry.

"I will try that again, good afternoon, class!" She said, and the majority of the class mumbled a 'good afternoon, Professor' in response. My mouth was suddenly very dry, and I couldn't myself muster a response. I was certain she had somehow noticed.

"Now, wands away, and quills on the desk, if you will," She nodded at us as though this was typical of a class known as Defence Against the Dark Arts. Which, by its nature, implied some sort of practical work. I couldn't recall a single lesson in this subject where my wand had not been required at some point.

Everyone looked around, the same expression on everyones face. It seemed to read 'what the fuck?', but if Umbridge noticed, you'd never have known it. Her face remained stuck in place, as though she physically couldn't wipe the smile from her face.

Umbridge picked up a long stick from her desk, and stood, moving to be beside her blackboard. She pointed the stick to the writing at the very top of the board, which read 'Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Return to the Basic Principles'.

"I have reviewed the teaching you have received in this subject thus far, and I must say, it has been terribly disrupted and inconsistent, hasn't it?" Sympathy was running through her voice, though I wasn't entirely certain it was genuine. Although, I could hardly disagree with her on this point. Quirrell was terrible at his job. And he was also You-Know-Who. Well, the back of his head was. It was awfully confusing. Lockhart was most definitely not qualified to teach, and if he could have shagged himself, he certainly would have done. He without a doubt looked at photos of himself to get off. Anyway, he's in a ward for the mentally unwell now, no idea who he is apparently. Our most recent Defence Professor was one we thought was good, until he turned out to be a Death Eater in disguise who tried to murder Harry at the end of the year. Not ideal.