As I casually slipped into the Great hall (and I mean slipped, I fell over.) I heard a large BANG! from upstairs.
Unfortunately, as everyone turned, they saw me falling over and assumed I’d made the noise.
“Come on, I’m not that fat.” I said to a sort of bemused Hufflepuffian.
It wasn’t until the second bang that everyone decided to trample me to see what was going on. Eventually, I crawled up onto the first floor after everyone and started laughing.
Dragons comprised entirely of green-and-gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went. Shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers. Many of these wheels were attacking the Slytherins, which made me laugh harder.
Rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls, and off people. Sparklers were writing swearwords in midair of their own accord, and once I swear one write llama. Legendary Sparklers.
Firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere I looked, and instead of burning themselves out, fading from sight, or fizzling to a halt, these pyrotechnical miracles seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum the longer I watched.
Laughing, I ducked down, ran to a door I knew was concealed behind a tapestry a little way along the corridor and slipped through it to find Fred, Harry and George hiding just behind it, listening to everyone’s cheers and Umbridge’s screams.
“Impressive,” I said quietly, grinning. “Very impressive...”
“Cheers,” whispered Fred, wiping tears of laughter from his face.
“You’re amazing, you are.” I nodded to them both. “Twenty points to Gryffindor.”
“How’s old Umbridge going?” George asked.
“The screams, they’re all her work....and a little from Filch.” I added.
“Brilliant,” George sighed in his happiness as we heard her screaming as she ran past us. “Just pure brilliance.”
The fireworks continued to burn and to spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, particularly the firecrackers, the other teachers did not seem to mind them very much.
“Dear, dear,” said Professor McGonagall sardonically, as one of the dragons soared around her classroom, emitting loud bangs and exhaling flame. “Miss Brown, would you mind running along to the headmistress and informing her that we have an escaped firework in our classroom?”
She earned herself a hi-five from me.
The upshot of it all was that Professor Umbridge spent her first afternoon as headmistress running all over the school answering the summonses of the other teachers, none of whom seemed able to rid their rooms of the fireworks without her. When the final bell rang and we were heading back to Gryffindor Tower with our bags, I saw, with immense satisfaction, a dishevelled and soot-blackened Umbridge tottering sweaty-faced from Professor Flitwick’s classroom.
“Thank you so much, Professor!” said Professor Flitwick. “I could have got rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn’t sure whether I had the authority. . . .”
Beaming, he closed his classroom door in her snarling face.
I ended up crying at one point, because I was so happy to watch Umbridge talking to Filch about how she had no idea what to do.
Fred and George were heroes that night in the Gryffindor common room. Even Hermione fought her way through the excited crowd around them to congratulate them.
