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<s> 'Yeah, well,' said Harry, glowering at his plate,'since when has Snape ever been fair to me?'</s> | Yeah, well,' said Harry, glowering at his plate,'since when has Snape ever been fair to me?'</s> |
<s> Neither of the others answered; all three of them knew that Snape and Harry's mutual enmity had been absolute from the moment Harry had set foot in Hogwarts. 'I mean... you know...' she looked around carefully; there were half a dozen empty seats on either side of them and nobody was passing the table '... 'Anyway, I've always thought Dumbledore was cracked to trust Snape. 'Can't you give it a rest?' said Harry. 'You're always having a go at each other, it's driving me mad.' And abandoning his shepherd's pie, he swung his schoolbag back over his shoulder and left them sitting there. He walked up the marble staircase two steps at a time, past the many students hurrying towards lunch. Serve them right, he thought, why can't they give it a rest... bickering all the time... it's enough to drive anyone up the wall... He passed the large picture of Sir Cadogan the knight on a landing; Sir Cadogan drew his sword and brandished it fiercely at Harry, who ignored him. 'Come back, you scurvy dog! Stand fast and fight!' yelled Sir Cadogan in a muffled voice from behind his visor, but Harry merely walked on and when Sir Cadogan attempted to follow him by running into a neighbouring picture, he was rebuffed by its inhabitant, a large and angry-looking wolfhound. Harry spent the rest of the lunch hour sitting alone underneath the trapdoor at the top of North Tower. Consequently, he was the first to ascend the silver ladder that led to Sybill Trelawney's classroom when the bell rang. After Potions, Divination was Harry's least favourite class, which was due mainly to Professor Trelawney's habit of predicting his premature death every few lessons. A thin woman, heavily draped in shawls and glittering with strings of beads, she always reminded Harry of some kind of insect, with her glasses hugely magnifying her eyes. She was busy putting copies of battered leather-bound books on each of the spindly little</s> | ither of the others answered; all three of them knew that Snape and Harry's mutual enmity had been absolute from the moment Harry had set foot in Hogwarts. 'I mean... you know...' she looked around carefully; there were half a dozen empty seats on either side of them and nobody was passing the table '... 'Anyway, I've always thought Dumbledore was cracked to trust Snape. 'Can't you give it a rest?' said Harry. 'You're always having a go at each other, it's driving me mad.' And abandoning his shepherd's pie, he swung his schoolbag back over his shoulder and left them sitting there. He walked up the marble staircase two steps at a time, past the many students hurrying towards lunch. Serve them right, he thought, why can't they give it a rest... bickering all the time... it's enough to drive anyone up the wall... He passed the large picture of Sir Cadogan the knight on a landing; Sir Cadogan drew his sword and brandished it fiercely at Harry, who ignored him. 'Come back, you scurvy dog! Stand fast and fight!' yelled Sir Cadogan in a muffled voice from behind his visor, but Harry merely walked on and when Sir Cadogan attempted to follow him by running into a neighbouring picture, he was rebuffed by its inhabitant, a large and angry-looking wolfhound. Harry spent the rest of the lunch hour sitting alone underneath the trapdoor at the top of North Tower. Consequently, he was the first to ascend the silver ladder that led to Sybill Trelawney's classroom when the bell rang. After Potions, Divination was Harry's least favourite class, which was due mainly to Professor Trelawney's habit of predicting his premature death every few lessons. A thin woman, heavily draped in shawls and glittering with strings of beads, she always reminded Harry of some kind of insect, with her glasses hugely magnifying her eyes. She was busy putting copies of battered leather-bound books on each of the spindly little</s> |
<s> with which her room was littered when Harry entered the room, but the light cast by the lamps covered by scarves and the low-burning, sickly-scented fire was so dim she appeared not to notice him as he took a seat in the shadows. The rest of the class arrived over the next five minutes. 'Good,' grunted Harry. 'But I reckon she's right. It's not our fault how Seamus and Snape treat you.'</s> | which her room was littered when Harry entered the room, but the light cast by the lamps covered by scarves and the low-burning, sickly-scented fire was so dim she appeared not to notice him as he took a seat in the shadows. The rest of the class arrived over the next five minutes. 'Good,' grunted Harry. 'But I reckon she's right. It's not our fault how Seamus and Snape treat you.'</s> |
<s> 'I never said it - '</s> | I never said it - '</s> |
<s> 'Good-day,' said Professor Trelawney in her usual misty, dreamy voice, and Harry broke off, again feeling both annoyed and slightly ashamed of himself. 'And welcome back to Divination. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and am delighted to see that you have all returned to Hogwarts safely - as, of course, I knew you would. 'You will find on the tables before you copies of The Dream Oracle, by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and one that may very probably be tested in your OWL. Not, of course, that I believe examination passes or failures are of the remotest importance when it comes to the sacred art of divination. If you have the Seeing Eye, certificates and grades matter very little. However, the Headmaster likes you to sit the examination, so...'</s> | Good-day,' said Professor Trelawney in her usual misty, dreamy voice, and Harry broke off, again feeling both annoyed and slightly ashamed of himself. 'And welcome back to Divination. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and am delighted to see that you have all returned to Hogwarts safely - as, of course, I knew you would. 'You will find on the tables before you copies of The Dream Oracle, by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and one that may very probably be tested in your OWL. Not, of course, that I believe examination passes or failures are of the remotest importance when it comes to the sacred art of divination. If you have the Seeing Eye, certificates and grades matter very little. However, the Headmaster likes you to sit the examination, so...'</s> |
<s> Her voice trailed away delicately, leaving them all in no doubt that Professor Trelawney considered her subject above such sordid matters as examinations. Turn, please, to the introduction and read what Imago has to say on the matter of dream interpretation. Then, divide into pairs. Use The Dream Oracle to interpret each other's most recent dreams. Carry on.'</s> | voice trailed away delicately, leaving them all in no doubt that Professor Trelawney considered her subject above such sordid matters as examinations. Turn, please, to the introduction and read what Imago has to say on the matter of dream interpretation. Then, divide into pairs. Use The Dream Oracle to interpret each other's most recent dreams. Carry on.'</s> |
<s> The one good thing to be said for this lesson was that it was not a double period. By the time they had all finished reading the introduction of the book, they had barely ten minutes left for dream interpretation. He was not going to share his dreams with anyone. 'What d'you reckon that means?'</s> | one good thing to be said for this lesson was that it was not a double period. By the time they had all finished reading the introduction of the book, they had barely ten minutes left for dream interpretation. He was not going to share his dreams with anyone. 'What d'you reckon that means?'</s> |
<s> 'Probably that you're going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something,' said Harry, turning the pages of The Dream Oracle without interest. It was very dull work looking up bits of dreams in the Oracle and Harry was not cheered up when Professor Trelawney set them the task of keeping a dream diary for a month as homework. 'D'you realise how much homework we've got already? Binns set us a foot-and-a-half-long essay on giant wars, Snape wants a foot on the use of moonstones, and now we've got a month's dream diary from Trelawney! Fred and George weren't wrong about OWL year, were they? That Umbridge woman had better not give us any...'</s> | Probably that you're going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something,' said Harry, turning the pages of The Dream Oracle without interest. It was very dull work looking up bits of dreams in the Oracle and Harry was not cheered up when Professor Trelawney set them the task of keeping a dream diary for a month as homework. 'D'you realise how much homework we've got already? Binns set us a foot-and-a-half-long essay on giant wars, Snape wants a foot on the use of moonstones, and now we've got a month's dream diary from Trelawney! Fred and George weren't wrong about OWL year, were they? That Umbridge woman had better not give us any...'</s> |
<s> When they entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Harry was again reminded forcibly of a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad. The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be. 'Well, good afternoon!' she said, when finally the whole class had sat down. A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply. 'Tut, tut,' said Professor Umbridge. 'That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge". One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!'</s> | they entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Harry was again reminded forcibly of a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad. The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be. 'Well, good afternoon!' she said, when finally the whole class had sat down. A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply. 'Tut, tut,' said Professor Umbridge. 'That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge". One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!'</s> |
<s> 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,' they chanted back at her. There, now,' said Professor Umbridge sweetly. That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.'</s> | Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,' they chanted back at her. There, now,' said Professor Umbridge sweetly. That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.'</s> |
<s> Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Harry shoved his wand back inside his bag and pulled cut quill, ink and parchment. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:</s> | of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Harry shoved his wand back inside his bag and pulled cut quill, ink and parchment. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:</s> |
<s> Defence Against the Dark Arts</s> | ence Against the Dark Arts</s> |
<s> A Return to Basic Principles</s> | Return to Basic Principles</s> |
<s> 'Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?' stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year. 'You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.'</s> | Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?' stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year. 'You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.'</s> |
<s> She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by the 'Course Aims'. 1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. 2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally</s> | rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by the 'Course Aims'. 1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. 2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally</s> |
<s> he used</s> | used</s> |
<s> 3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use. For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked, 'Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?'</s> | 3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use. For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked, 'Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?'</s> |
<s> There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class. 'I think we'll try that again,' said Professor Umbridge. 'When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, "Yes, Professor Umbridge", or "No, Professor Umbridge'. So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?'</s> | was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class. 'I think we'll try that again,' said Professor Umbridge. 'When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, "Yes, Professor Umbridge", or "No, Professor Umbridge'. So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?'</s> |
<s> Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. Harry turned to page five of his copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read. It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. He felt his concentration sliding away from him; he had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several silent minutes passed. Harry looked right and received a surprise to shake him out of his torpor. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. He looked at her enquiringly, but she merely shook her head slightly to indicate that she was not about to answer questions, and continued to stare at Professor Umbridge, who was looking just as resolutely in another direction. 'Well, we're reading just now,' said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells.'</s> | Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. Harry turned to page five of his copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read. It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. He felt his concentration sliding away from him; he had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several silent minutes passed. Harry looked right and received a surprise to shake him out of his torpor. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. He looked at her enquiringly, but she merely shook her head slightly to indicate that she was not about to answer questions, and continued to stare at Professor Umbridge, who was looking just as resolutely in another direction. 'Well, we're reading just now,' said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells.'</s> |
<s> There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard. 'Using defensive spells?' Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back or. him. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingerec. 'No, but - '</s> | was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard. 'Using defensive spells?' Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back or. him. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingerec. 'No, but - '</s> |
<s> 'Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the "whole point" of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way - '</s> | Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the "whole point" of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way - '</s> |
<s> 'What use is that?' said Harry loudly. 'If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a - '</s> | What use is that?' said Harry loudly. 'If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a - '</s> |
<s> 'Hand, Mr Potter!' sang Professor Umbridge. Harry thrust his fist in the air. Again, Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him, but now several other people had their hands up, too. 'And your name is?' Professor Umbridge said to Dean. 'Dean Thomas.'</s> | Hand, Mr Potter!' sang Professor Umbridge. Harry thrust his fist in the air. Again, Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him, but now several other people had their hands up, too. 'And your name is?' Professor Umbridge said to Dean. 'Dean Thomas.'</s> |
<s> 'Well, Mr Thomas?'</s> | Well, Mr Thomas?'</s> |
<s> 'Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?' said Dean. 'If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free.'</s> | Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?' said Dean. 'If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free.'</s> |
<s> 'I repeat,' said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, 'do you expect to be attacked during my classes?'</s> | I repeat,' said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, 'do you expect to be attacked during my classes?'</s> |
<s> 'No, but - '</s> | No, but - '</s> |
<s> Professor Umbridge talked over him. 'I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school,' she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, 'but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention,' she gave a nasty little laugh, 'extremely dangerous half-breeds.'</s> | Umbridge talked over him. 'I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school,' she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, 'but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention,' she gave a nasty little laugh, 'extremely dangerous half-breeds.'</s> |
<s> 'If you mean Professor Lupin,' piped up Dean angrily, 'he was the best we ever -</s> | If you mean Professor Lupin,' piped up Dean angrily, 'he was the best we ever -</s> |
<s> 'Hand, Mr Thomas! As I was saying - you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. Professor Umbridge turned away from her. 'It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you.'</s> | Hand, Mr Thomas! As I was saying - you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. Professor Umbridge turned away from her. 'It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you.'</s> |
<s> 'Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?' said Dean hotly. 'Mind you, we still learned loads.'</s> | Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?' said Dean hotly. 'Mind you, we still learned loads.'</s> |
<s> 'Your hand is not up, Mr Thomas!' trilled Professor Umbridge. 'Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?' she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up. 'Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against</s> | Your hand is not up, Mr Thomas!' trilled Professor Umbridge. 'Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?' she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up. 'Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against</s> |
<s> the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?'</s> | Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?'</s> |
<s> As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions,' said Professor Umbridge dismissively. 'Without ever practising them beforehand?' said Parvati incredulously. Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?'</s> | long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions,' said Professor Umbridge dismissively. 'Without ever practising them beforehand?' said Parvati incredulously. Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?'</s> |
<s> 'I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough - '</s> | I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough - '</s> |
<s> And what good's theory going to be in the real world?' said Harry loudly, his fist in the air again. Professor Umbridge looked up. 'This is school, Mr Potter, not the real world,' she said softly. 'So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?'</s> | what good's theory going to be in the real world?' said Harry loudly, his fist in the air again. Professor Umbridge looked up. 'This is school, Mr Potter, not the real world,' she said softly. 'So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?'</s> |
<s> 'There is nothing waiting out there, Mr Potter.'</s> | There is nothing waiting out there, Mr Potter.'</s> |
<s> 'Oh, yeah?' said Harry. His temper, which seemed to have been bubbling just beneath the surface all day, was reaching boiling point. 'Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?' enquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice. 'Hmm, let's think...' said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice. 'Maybe... Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face. 'Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter.'</s> | Oh, yeah?' said Harry. His temper, which seemed to have been bubbling just beneath the surface all day, was reaching boiling point. 'Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?' enquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice. 'Hmm, let's think...' said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice. 'Maybe... Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face. 'Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter.'</s> |
<s> The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry. 'Now, let me make a few things quite plain.'</s> | classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry. 'Now, let me make a few things quite plain.'</s> |
<s> Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned towards them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk. 'You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead - '</s> | Umbridge stood up and leaned towards them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk. 'You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead - '</s> |
<s> 'He wasn't dead,' said Harry angrily, 'but yeah, he's returned!'</s> | He wasn't dead,' said Harry angrily, 'but yeah, he's returned!'</s> |
<s> 'Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself,' said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. 'As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie.'</s> | Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself,' said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. 'As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie.'</s> |
<s> 'It is NOT a lie!' said Harry. 'I saw him, I fought him!'</s> | It is NOT a lie!' said Harry. 'I saw him, I fought him!'</s> |
<s> 'Detention, Mr Potter!' said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, "Basics for Beginners".'</s> | Detention, Mr Potter!' said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, "Basics for Beginners".'</s> |
<s> Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk. Harry, however, stood up. Everyone was staring at him; Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated. 'So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?' Harry asked, his voice shaking. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face. 'Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident,' she said coldly. 'It was murder,' said Harry. He could feel himself shaking. He had hardly spoken to anyone about this, least of all thirty eagerly listening classmates. 'Voldemort killed him and you know it.'</s> | Umbridge sat down behind her desk. Harry, however, stood up. Everyone was staring at him; Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated. 'So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?' Harry asked, his voice shaking. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face. 'Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident,' she said coldly. 'It was murder,' said Harry. He could feel himself shaking. He had hardly spoken to anyone about this, least of all thirty eagerly listening classmates. 'Voldemort killed him and you know it.'</s> |
<s> Professor Umbridge's face was quite blank. For a moment, Harry thought she was going to scream at him. He could feel the rest of the class holding its breath. He felt so angry he did not care what happened next. Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and started scribbling, hunched over so that Harry could not see what she was writing. Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that he could not open it. Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear,' said Professor Umbridge, holding out the note to him. He walked very fast along the corridor, the note to McGonagall clutched tight in his hand, and turning a corner walked slap into Peeves the poltergeist, a wide-mouthed little man floating on his back in midair, juggling several inkwells. 'Why, it's Potty Wee Potter!' cackled Peeves, allowing two of the inkwells to fall to the ground where they smashed and spattered the walls with ink; Harry jumped backwards out of the way with a snarl. 'Get out of it, Peeves.'</s> | Umbridge's face was quite blank. For a moment, Harry thought she was going to scream at him. He could feel the rest of the class holding its breath. He felt so angry he did not care what happened next. Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and started scribbling, hunched over so that Harry could not see what she was writing. Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that he could not open it. Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear,' said Professor Umbridge, holding out the note to him. He walked very fast along the corridor, the note to McGonagall clutched tight in his hand, and turning a corner walked slap into Peeves the poltergeist, a wide-mouthed little man floating on his back in midair, juggling several inkwells. 'Why, it's Potty Wee Potter!' cackled Peeves, allowing two of the inkwells to fall to the ground where they smashed and spattered the walls with ink; Harry jumped backwards out of the way with a snarl. 'Get out of it, Peeves.'</s> |
<s> 'Oooh, Crackpot's feeling cranky,' said Peeves, pursuing Harry along the corridor, leering as he zoomed along above him. 'What is; it this time, my fine Potty friend? Hearing voices? Seeing visions? Speaking in -'Peeves blew a gigantic raspberry '- tongues?'</s> | Oooh, Crackpot's feeling cranky,' said Peeves, pursuing Harry along the corridor, leering as he zoomed along above him. 'What is; it this time, my fine Potty friend? Hearing voices? Seeing visions? Speaking in -'Peeves blew a gigantic raspberry '- tongues?'</s> |
<s> 'I said, leave me ALONE!' Harry shouted, running down the nearest flight of stairs, but Peeves merely slid down the banister on his back beside him. 'Oh, most think he's barking, the potty wee lad,</s> | I said, leave me ALONE!' Harry shouted, running down the nearest flight of stairs, but Peeves merely slid down the banister on his back beside him. 'Oh, most think he's barking, the potty wee lad,</s> |
<s> But some are more kindly and think he's just sad,</s> | some are more kindly and think he's just sad,</s> |
<s> But Peevesy knows better and says that he's mad - '</s> | Peevesy knows better and says that he's mad - '</s> |
<s> 'SHUT UP!'</s> | SHUT UP!'</s> |
<s> A door to his left flew open and Professor McGonagall emerged from her office looking grim and slightly harassed. 'What on earth are you shouting about, Potter?' she snapped, as Peeves cackled gleefully and zoomed out of sight. 'Why aren't you in class?'</s> | door to his left flew open and Professor McGonagall emerged from her office looking grim and slightly harassed. 'What on earth are you shouting about, Potter?' she snapped, as Peeves cackled gleefully and zoomed out of sight. 'Why aren't you in class?'</s> |
<s> 'I've been sent to see you,' said Harry stiffly. 'Sent? What do you mean, sent?'</s> | I've been sent to see you,' said Harry stiffly. 'Sent? What do you mean, sent?'</s> |
<s> He held out the note from Professor Umbridge. Professor McGonagall took it from him, frowning, slit it open with a tap of her wand, stretched it out and began to read. Her eyes zoomed from side to side behind their square spectacles as she read what Umbridge had written, and with each line they became narrower. 'Come in here, Potter.'</s> | held out the note from Professor Umbridge. Professor McGonagall took it from him, frowning, slit it open with a tap of her wand, stretched it out and began to read. Her eyes zoomed from side to side behind their square spectacles as she read what Umbridge had written, and with each line they became narrower. 'Come in here, Potter.'</s> |
<s> He followed her inside her study. The door closed automatically behind him. 'Well?' said Professor McGonagall, rounding on him. "Is this true?'</s> | followed her inside her study. The door closed automatically behind him. 'Well?' said Professor McGonagall, rounding on him. "Is this true?'</s> |
<s> 'Is what true?' Harry asked, rather more aggressively than he had intended. 'Professor?' he added, in an attempt to sound more polite. 'Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umbridge?'</s> | Is what true?' Harry asked, rather more aggressively than he had intended. 'Professor?' he added, in an attempt to sound more polite. 'Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umbridge?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes,' said Harry. 'You called her a liar?'</s> | Yes,' said Harry. 'You called her a liar?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes.'</s> | Yes.'</s> |
<s> 'You told her He Who Must Not Be Named is back?'</s> | You told her He Who Must Not Be Named is back?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes.'</s> | Yes.'</s> |
<s> Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk, watching Harry closely. Then she said, 'Have a biscuit, Potter.'</s> | McGonagall sat down behind her desk, watching Harry closely. Then she said, 'Have a biscuit, Potter.'</s> |
<s> 'Have - what?'</s> | Have - what?'</s> |
<s> 'Have a biscuit,' she repeated impatiently, indicating a tartan tin lying on top of one of the piles of papers on her desk. 'And sit down.'</s> | Have a biscuit,' she repeated impatiently, indicating a tartan tin lying on top of one of the piles of papers on her desk. 'And sit down.'</s> |
<s> There had been a previous occasion when Harry, expecting to be caned by Professor McGonagall, had instead been appointed by her to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He sank into a chair opposite her and helped himself to a Ginger Newt, feeling just as confused and wrong-footed as he had done on that occasion. Professor McGonagall set down Professor Umbridge's note and looked very seriously at Harry. 'Potter, you need to be careful.'</s> | had been a previous occasion when Harry, expecting to be caned by Professor McGonagall, had instead been appointed by her to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He sank into a chair opposite her and helped himself to a Ginger Newt, feeling just as confused and wrong-footed as he had done on that occasion. Professor McGonagall set down Professor Umbridge's note and looked very seriously at Harry. 'Potter, you need to be careful.'</s> |
<s> Harry swallowed his mouthful of Ginger Newt and stared at her. Her tone of voice was not at all what he was used to; it was not brisk, crisp and stern; it was low and anxious and somehow much more human than usual. 'Misbehaviour in Dolores Umbridge's class could cost you much more than house points and a detention.'</s> | swallowed his mouthful of Ginger Newt and stared at her. Her tone of voice was not at all what he was used to; it was not brisk, crisp and stern; it was low and anxious and somehow much more human than usual. 'Misbehaviour in Dolores Umbridge's class could cost you much more than house points and a detention.'</s> |
<s> 'What do you -?'</s> | What do you -?'</s> |
<s> 'Potter, use your common sense,' snapped Professor McGonagall, with an abrupt return to her usual manner. 'You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting.'</s> | Potter, use your common sense,' snapped Professor McGonagall, with an abrupt return to her usual manner. 'You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting.'</s> |
<s> The bell rang for the end of the lesson. Overhead and all around came the elephantine sounds of hundreds of students on the move. 'It says here she's given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow,' Professor McGonagall said, looking down at Umbridge's note again. 'Every evening this week!' Harry repeated, horrified. 'But, Professor, couldn't you -?'</s> | bell rang for the end of the lesson. Overhead and all around came the elephantine sounds of hundreds of students on the move. 'It says here she's given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow,' Professor McGonagall said, looking down at Umbridge's note again. 'Every evening this week!' Harry repeated, horrified. 'But, Professor, couldn't you -?'</s> |
<s> 'No, I couldn't,' said Professor McGonagall flatly. 'But - '</s> | No, I couldn't,' said Professor McGonagall flatly. 'But - '</s> |
<s> 'She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will go to her room at five o'clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember: tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge.'</s> | She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will go to her room at five o'clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember: tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge.'</s> |
<s> 'But I was telling the truth!' said Harry, outraged. 'Voldemort is back, you know he is; Professor Dumbledore knows he is - '</s> | But I was telling the truth!' said Harry, outraged. 'Voldemort is back, you know he is; Professor Dumbledore knows he is - '</s> |
<s> 'For heaven's sake, Potter!' said Professor McGonagall, straightening her glasses angrily (she had winced horribly when he had used Voldemort's name). 'Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It's about keeping your head down and your temper under control!'</s> | For heaven's sake, Potter!' said Professor McGonagall, straightening her glasses angrily (she had winced horribly when he had used Voldemort's name). 'Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It's about keeping your head down and your temper under control!'</s> |
<s> She stood up, nostrils wide and mouth very thin, and Harry stood up, too. 'Have another biscuit,' she said irritably, thrusting the tin at him. 'No, thanks,' said Harry coldly. 'Don't be ridiculous,' she snapped. He took one. Thanks,' he said grudgingly. 'Didn't you listen to Dolores Umbridge's speech at the start-of-term feast, Potter?'</s> | stood up, nostrils wide and mouth very thin, and Harry stood up, too. 'Have another biscuit,' she said irritably, thrusting the tin at him. 'No, thanks,' said Harry coldly. 'Don't be ridiculous,' she snapped. He took one. Thanks,' he said grudgingly. 'Didn't you listen to Dolores Umbridge's speech at the start-of-term feast, Potter?'</s> |
<s> 'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Yeah... she said... progress will be prohibited or... well, it meant that... that the Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Hogwarts.'</s> | Yeah,' said Harry. 'Yeah... she said... progress will be prohibited or... well, it meant that... that the Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Hogwarts.'</s> |
<s> Dentention with Delores</s> | entention with Delores</s> |
<s> Dinner in the Great Hall that night was not a pleasant experience for Harry. The news about his shouting match with Umbridge had travelled exceptionally fast even by Hogwarts' standards. The funny thing was that none of the whisperers seemed to mind him overhearing what they were saying about him. On the contrary, it was as though they were hoping he would get angry and start shouting again, so that they could hear his story first-hand. 'He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered...'</s> | inner in the Great Hall that night was not a pleasant experience for Harry. The news about his shouting match with Umbridge had travelled exceptionally fast even by Hogwarts' standards. The funny thing was that none of the whisperers seemed to mind him overhearing what they were saying about him. On the contrary, it was as though they were hoping he would get angry and start shouting again, so that they could hear his story first-hand. 'He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered...'</s> |
<s> 'He reckons he duelled with You-Know-Who...'</s> | He reckons he duelled with You-Know-Who...'</s> |
<s> 'Come off it...'</s> | Come off it...'</s> |
<s> 'Who does he think he's kidding?'</s> | Who does he think he's kidding?'</s> |
<s> 'Pur-lease...'</s> | Pur-lease...'</s> |
<s> 'What I don't get,' said Harry through clenched teeth, laying down his knife and fork (his hands were shaking too much to hold them steady), 'is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them.. People stared s t them all the way out of the Hall. 'You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body... none of us saw what what happened in the maze... we just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you.'</s> | What I don't get,' said Harry through clenched teeth, laying down his knife and fork (his hands were shaking too much to hold them steady), 'is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them.. People stared s t them all the way out of the Hall. 'You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body... none of us saw what what happened in the maze... we just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you.'</s> |
<s> 'Which is the truth!' said Harry loudly. 'It's just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase and Dumbledore's going senile!'</s> | Which is the truth!' said Harry loudly. 'It's just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase and Dumbledore's going senile!'</s> |
<s> Rain pounded on the windowpanes as they strode along the empty corridors back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry felt as though his first day had lasted a week, but he still had a mountain of homework to do before bed. A dull pounding pain was developing over his right eye. He glanced out of a rain-washed window at the dark grounds as they turned into the Fat Lady's corridor. There was still no light in Hagrid's cabin. The portrait swung open to reveal the hole behind it and the three of them scrambled through it. The common room was almost empty; nearly everyone was still down at dinner. Harry gazed into the flames, feeling drained and exhausted. She pounded the arms of her chair in fury, so that bits of stuffing leaked out of the holes. 'How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our OWL year, too!'</s> | pounded on the windowpanes as they strode along the empty corridors back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry felt as though his first day had lasted a week, but he still had a mountain of homework to do before bed. A dull pounding pain was developing over his right eye. He glanced out of a rain-washed window at the dark grounds as they turned into the Fat Lady's corridor. There was still no light in Hagrid's cabin. The portrait swung open to reveal the hole behind it and the three of them scrambled through it. The common room was almost empty; nearly everyone was still down at dinner. Harry gazed into the flames, feeling drained and exhausted. She pounded the arms of her chair in fury, so that bits of stuffing leaked out of the holes. 'How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our OWL year, too!'</s> |
<s> 'Well, we've never had great Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we?' said Harry. 'You know what it's like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job; they say it's jinxed.'</s> | Well, we've never had great Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we?' said Harry. 'You know what it's like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job; they say it's jinxed.'</s> |
<s> 'Yes, but to employ someone who's actually refusing to let us do magic! 'Can't we just... let's just do that homework, get it out of the way...'</s> | Yes, but to employ someone who's actually refusing to let us do magic! 'Can't we just... let's just do that homework, get it out of the way...'</s> |
<s> They collected their schoolbags from a corner and returned to the chairs by the fire. People were coming back from dinner now. Harry kept his face averted from the portrait hole, but could still sense the stares he was attracting. "The properties... of moonstone... and its uses... in potion-making..."' he muttered, writing the words across the top of his parchment as he spoke them. 'No, I'm sorry, they've gone too far,' she said, standing up and looking positively furious. One by one, as though hit over the head with an invisible mallet, the first-years were slumping unconscious in their seats; some slid right on to the floor, others merely hung over the arms of their chairs, their tongues lolling out. 'Yeah, you're right,' said George, nodding, 'this dosage looks strong enough, doesn't it?'</s> | collected their schoolbags from a corner and returned to the chairs by the fire. People were coming back from dinner now. Harry kept his face averted from the portrait hole, but could still sense the stares he was attracting. "The properties... of moonstone... and its uses... in potion-making..."' he muttered, writing the words across the top of his parchment as he spoke them. 'No, I'm sorry, they've gone too far,' she said, standing up and looking positively furious. One by one, as though hit over the head with an invisible mallet, the first-years were slumping unconscious in their seats; some slid right on to the floor, others merely hung over the arms of their chairs, their tongues lolling out. 'Yeah, you're right,' said George, nodding, 'this dosage looks strong enough, doesn't it?'</s> |
<s> 'I told you this morning, you can't test your rubbish on students!'</s> | I told you this morning, you can't test your rubbish on students!'</s> |
<s> 'We're paying them!' said Fred indignantly. 'I don't care, it could be dangerous!'</s> | We're paying them!' said Fred indignantly. 'I don't care, it could be dangerous!'</s> |
<s> 'Rubbish,' said Fred. 'Yeah, look, they're coming round now,' said George. A few of the first-years were indeed stirring. Several looked so shocked to find themselves lying on the floor, or dangling off their chairs, that Harry was sure Fred and George had not warned them what the sweets were going to do. 'Feel all right?' said George kindly to a small dark-haired girl lying at his feet. 'I - I think so,' she said shakily. 'It is NOT excellent!'</s> | Rubbish,' said Fred. 'Yeah, look, they're coming round now,' said George. A few of the first-years were indeed stirring. Several looked so shocked to find themselves lying on the floor, or dangling off their chairs, that Harry was sure Fred and George had not warned them what the sweets were going to do. 'Feel all right?' said George kindly to a small dark-haired girl lying at his feet. 'I - I think so,' she said shakily. 'It is NOT excellent!'</s> |
<s> 'Course it is, they're alive, aren't they?' said Fred angrily. 'You can't do this, what if you made one of them really ill?'</s> | Course it is, they're alive, aren't they?' said Fred angrily. 'You can't do this, what if you made one of them really ill?'</s> |
<s> 'We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same - '</s> | We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same - '</s> |
<s> 'If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to - '</s> | If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to - '</s> |
<s> 'Put us in detention?' said Fred, in an I'd-like-to-see-you-try-it voice. 'Make us write lines?' said George, smirking. Onlookers all over the room were laughing. 'No,' she said, her voice quivering with anger, 'but I will write to your mother.'</s> | Put us in detention?' said Fred, in an I'd-like-to-see-you-try-it voice. 'Make us write lines?' said George, smirking. Onlookers all over the room were laughing. 'No,' she said, her voice quivering with anger, 'but I will write to your mother.'</s> |
<s> 'You wouldn't,' said George, horrified, taking a step back from her. 'I can't stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you're not to give them to the first-years,'</s> | You wouldn't,' said George, horrified, taking a step back from her. 'I can't stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you're not to give them to the first-years,'</s> |
<s> Fred and George looked thunderstruck. With a last threatening look at them, she thrust Fred's clipboard and the bag of Fancies back into his arms, and stalked back to her chair by the fire. I'm going to bed.'</s> | and George looked thunderstruck. With a last threatening look at them, she thrust Fred's clipboard and the bag of Fancies back into his arms, and stalked back to her chair by the fire. I'm going to bed.'</s> |
<s> She wrenched her bag open; Harry thought she was about to put her books away, but instead she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects, placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace, covered them with a few screwed-up bits of parchment and a broken quill and stood back to admire the effect. They're hats for house-elves,' she said briskly now stuffing her books back into her bag. 'I did them over the summer. 'You're trying to trick them into picking up the hats. They should at least see what they're picking up,' he said firmly. 'Anyway.. He thought of the long essay on giant wars and the pain stabbed at him sharply. Knowing perfectly well that when the morning came, he would regret not finishing his homework that night, he piled his books back into his bag. 'I'm going to bed too.'</s> | wrenched her bag open; Harry thought she was about to put her books away, but instead she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects, placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace, covered them with a few screwed-up bits of parchment and a broken quill and stood back to admire the effect. They're hats for house-elves,' she said briskly now stuffing her books back into her bag. 'I did them over the summer. 'You're trying to trick them into picking up the hats. They should at least see what they're picking up,' he said firmly. 'Anyway.. He thought of the long essay on giant wars and the pain stabbed at him sharply. Knowing perfectly well that when the morning came, he would regret not finishing his homework that night, he piled his books back into his bag. 'I'm going to bed too.'</s> |
<s> He passed Seamus on the way to the door leading to the dormitories, but did not look at him. Harry had a fleeting impression that Seamus had opened his mouth to speak, but he sped up and reached the soothing peace of the stone spiral staircase without having to endure any more provocation. *</s> | passed Seamus on the way to the door leading to the dormitories, but did not look at him. Harry had a fleeting impression that Seamus had opened his mouth to speak, but he sped up and reached the soothing peace of the stone spiral staircase without having to endure any more provocation. *</s> |
<s> The following day dawned just as leaden and rainy as the previous one. Hagrid was still absent from the staff table at breakfast. They might not count as clothes. Double Charms was succeeded by double Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both spent the first fifteen minutes of their lessons lecturing the class on the importance of OWLs.</s> | following day dawned just as leaden and rainy as the previous one. Hagrid was still absent from the staff table at breakfast. They might not count as clothes. Double Charms was succeeded by double Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both spent the first fifteen minutes of their lessons lecturing the class on the importance of OWLs.</s> |
<s> 'What you must remember,' said little Professor Flitwick squeakily, perched as ever on a pile of books so that he could see over the top of his desk, 'is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in :he meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!'</s> | What you must remember,' said little Professor Flitwick squeakily, perched as ever on a pile of books so that he could see over the top of his desk, 'is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in :he meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!'</s> |
<s> They then spent over an hour revising Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their OWL, and he rounded off the lesson by setting them their largest ever amount of Charms homework. It was the same, if not worse, in Transfiguration. 'You cannot pass an OWL,' said Professor McGonagall grimly, 'without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work.' Neville made a sad little disbelieving noise. 'Yes, you too, Longbottom,' said Professor McGonagall. There's nothing wrong with your work except lack of confidence. So... today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL.'</s> | then spent over an hour revising Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their OWL, and he rounded off the lesson by setting them their largest ever amount of Charms homework. It was the same, if not worse, in Transfiguration. 'You cannot pass an OWL,' said Professor McGonagall grimly, 'without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work.' Neville made a sad little disbelieving noise. 'Yes, you too, Longbottom,' said Professor McGonagall. There's nothing wrong with your work except lack of confidence. So... today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL.'</s> |