Moonlight » Harry Potter

Eleven

          It was after the most beautiful weekend that I suffered through the most torturous Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I might even go so far as to say that it was the most torturous class of my entire life.

And the weekend had been been the nicest in a long time; it was my first time going into Hogsmeade with friends, which sounds sad and kind of is, but it's a wonderful thing, doing things with people instead of by yourself all the time. And of course, I knew of the agony that lied just around the corner for me, but everything seemed to be playing out so nicely that I didn't really care.

Now I cared. Now I really, really cared, because Umbridge gave me detention today.

It all happened so fast, I couldn't even believe it was real. And it was such an out-of-character move for me that got me in trouble. I really don't know why I did it. Stupid. Why was I so bloody stupid?

Maybe it was because I was hanging out with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I never talked before, not to teachers if I could avoid it and certainly not to students, so it must've taken an effect on me. If someone said something I didn't like, didn't agree with, what did I usually do? Keep my mouth shut and do my best to ignore.

Why couldn't it just stay that way?

Umbridge had made us read again, and by this point, we were in chapter three and hadn't actually done anything except for read, and I was pissed off. Of course I was pissed off. I imagined I wasn't the only one.

When Umbridge gave us the assignment, there was a collective groan as students throughout the classroom took out their books and thunked them on the desk, grudgingly starting to read.

Hermione raised her hand, and Umbridge, seated at her desk, looked up and called on her.

"Yes, I was just wondering if we were going to, er, well, do something other than read?"

Umbridge blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well," Hermione looked down, and I could tell that she regretted speaking at all. "It's just, not all of us are going to retain this information just by reading and writing about it."

"Are you insulting my teaching, Miss Granger?"

But before Hermione could answer, before I even knew I was speaking, I was. "She means to say that some of us in here need to learn, and reading and writing is not how all of us learn. So if you want to effectively teach, you're going to have to give us more to work with."

Umbridge gave a faux giggle, rising from her seat. "So you're the one insulting me, Miss Blanchard?" She tilted her head as she walked down the aisle toward my seat.

"What are you doing, Everest?" Harry mumbled, and for a split second I hated myself for talking, but I stood up as she approached. I wasn't going to let this old hag get the best of me or anyone else.

"Let me tell you something," Umbridge continued. "I am the teacher in this class. I've been appointed by the Ministry to teach you all Defense Against the Dark Arts, and teach it I will by Ministry-approved, safe, effective methods. If you have a problem with my methods, well— "at this, Umbridge let out a high-pitched laugh— "well, that doesn't matter! You don't know what you are talking about, because you are only a child." Now she was right in front of me, stopped from coming closer only by the desk.

I swear to God, I don't know what came over me. "Young though we may be," I countered, "one day, each person in this room will have an active role as an adult in the magical community, whether you like it or not. You say that there is nothing out there to hurt us right now, and a lot of people believe that—" not including me, I thought— "but who's to say what the future holds? You have no idea what might come. Don't you think we'd be better off prepared for the worst? You can't tell us that it's a safe and perfect world forever, Professor, because I know that it's not, we all know that it's not. Even you know that."

Umbridge opened her mouth to speak, clearly taken aback by my statement, but I wasn't finished quite yet.

"And your teaching methods of sitting here quietly and reading from a textbook and writing essays, it might be enough to get us through our exams if we study hard enough, but the real world is not like an exam. The real world does not revolve around theory. If you were about to be killed," I said, Harry's outburst from the other night on my mind. "You wouldn't be thinking about what 'this famous guy' said in 'this year' and how it might help you. You would just act, just do whatever you could to stay alive. All this reading that we're doing, it's not going to-"

"That's enough!" Umbridge yelled so loudly and furiously that I shut up immediately. "Enough," she said more calmly, her chest rising and falling as she spoke with anger in her voice. "You pretend to know everything, young lady, but you have not experienced the 'real world.' You have not been exposed to anything near what you'll experience when you leave this school. Do not stand there and lecture me on what I am teaching-"

"She's right!" Harry said, standing up. "She's absolutely correct, Professor. Wouldn't you like to be ready if something comes? Wouldn't you-"

"That is enough out of you two!" Umbridge yelled. "Now I suggest you both shut your mouths before I have you expelled from this school for insubordination. You—" she pointed a knobby finger at me— "come to my desk immediately. And you—" turning to Harry— "I'll discuss your punishment right after I discuss hers."

//I haven't updated this since last year :0