Jupiter | Harry James Potter

lxxiv ; the examinations

A/N

filler sorry

-

Jupiter had spent the night with Harry, teaching him how to properly clean a wound then the spell to bandage it, since he insisted that he do it for her instead of just letting her take care of herself, then doing the same on him.

With Ron and Hermione behind them, they entered Transfiguration class to see Professor Umbridge and her clipboard were sitting in a corner of the classroom.

"Excellent," whispered Ron, as they sat down in their usual seats. "Let's see Umbridge get what she deserves."

Professor McGonagall marched into the room without giving the slightest indication that she knew Professor Umbridge was there.

"That will do," she said and silence fell immediately. "Mr. Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework," she instructed to Seamus, holding out a large stack of their essays from the week before. "Miss Brown, please take this box of mice," she said to Lavender, handing her a cardboard box full of squeaking rodents. Lavender let out a small squeal in fear. "Don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you — and hand one to each student —"

"Hem, hem," Professor Umbridge said, employing the same silly little cough she had used to interrupt Dumbledore on the first night of term. Professor McGonagall ignored her. Seamus handed back Jupiter's essay and she took it with her poorly-wrapped hand. She felt her chin lift higher as she saw the large red 'O' written at the top of the paper next to her name.

She glanced over to Harry, who took the essay from Seamus without even glancing at him. She felt a flutter in her heart as his face lit up at the sight of his grade. She peeked over his shoulder, and saw the 'A' scribbled at the top.

Jupiter smiled softly as she caught his eye, giving him a small nod in encouragement. She could tell he was exceptionally pleased with his grade, even if it wasn't as high as hers.

"Right then, everyone, listen closely," Professor McGonagall started as Lavender began to hesitantly hand out mice. "Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention."

The tables around Dean erupted into laughter as he lowered his wand from above the backside of the mouse. Professor McGonagall pursed her lips at him, then continued, "Most of you have now successfully vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have the gist of the spell. Today we shall be —"

"Hem, hem," said Professor Umbridge.

"Yes?" said Professor McGonagall, turning round, her eyebrows so close together they seemed to form one long, severe line.

"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec-"

"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom," said Professor McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Professor Umbridge. Many of the students exchanged looks of glee. "As I was saying, today we shall be practicing the altogether more difficult vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell —"

"Hem, hem."

"I wonder," said Professor McGonagall in cold fury, turning on Professor Umbridge, "how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking."

Professor Umbridge looked as though she had just been slapped in the face. She did not speak, but straightened the parchment on her clipboard and began scribbling furiously. Looking supremely unconcerned, Professor McGonagall addressed the class once more.