Every Tear Falls Down For a Reason

Chapter 8

Defense Against the Dark Arts didn't meet until Wednesday, giving Harry plenty of time to worry.

When he and his friends walked into the room, they found Professor Umbridge sitting at her desk, wearing either the same cardigan from the welcoming feast, or one just like it. That horrible black bow was still on top of her head.

Harry led the others to several seats in the middle of the classroom, not wanting to sit too close to the woman he had heard so few good things about.

At precisely four o'clock, Umbridge stood up. "Hem, hem." The few people who had been speaking stopped, and the professor gave them the same sickly sweet smile as she had at the welcoming feast; it did nothing to set any of them at ease. "Good afternoon, class." There were some mumbled greetings, and Professor Umbridge shook her head. "Tut, tut, that won't do. When I speak, you should reply with 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge. Now, let's try again. Good afternoon, class."

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the class chanted back.

Umbridge leered. "There now, that wasn't so hard, was it? Now, wands away and quills out please." She turned around and pointed her wand at the board as the class grumbled. 'Wands away' had never been followed by an exciting lesson.

'Defense Against the Dark Arts – A return to basic principles' appeared in a girlish cursive writing.

Umbridge turned back to the students. "You have had four previous professors in this subject I believe, and none of them have used a Ministry-approved curriculum, so I do believe I will have my work cut out for me, won't I?" There was a little muttering, but Umbridge just spoke over them. "Yes, I do believe that the constant changing of teachers and the unapproved methods have resulted in you all being way below the standards for your OWL year."

Several students looked offended, but no one said anything. Umbridge just smiled. "Fortunately, now that I am here, these problems will be rectified. Class, please copy down the following."

She turned back to the board and pointed her wand, as more writing appeared.

'Course Aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic
2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use'

She waited until the sounds of scratching parchment had ceased, before she spoke again. "Now, does everyone have a copy of Wilbert Slinkhard's Defensive Magical Theory?" There were a few halfhearted affirmatives, and Umbridge clucked her tongue. "Let's try that again, when you respond I want you to say 'yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'no, Professor Umbridge'. Now, does everyone have a copy of Defensive Magical Theory?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," the class replied in unison.

Umbridge nodded. "Good. Now, please turn to chapter one, and begin reading. There will be no need to talk."

There was some more grumbling as they all turned to the first chapter. Harry perused the first few pages, but couldn't keep his attention on the words in front of him. He had looked through the book after buying it, and had been bored out of his mind within five pages. Not to mention all of the mistakes he had found within those pages. Slinkhard was an idiot, and that was his professional and personal opinion. He glanced over at Hermione, to see that she hadn't even opened her book. She was staring at the words on the board, and her hand was up in the air.

Harry looked at the board as well, trying to see what had captivated her so. He read through the course aims a few more times, and furrowed his brow. He glanced over at Hermione again, and this time she looked back. She nodded slightly, and he knew that she had seen the same issue in the aims as he had, though she had caught it earlier.