Chapter 14
Professor Umber
KIARA
So, when we entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, we found Professor Umber already seated at the teacher's desk, wearing the same fluffy baby-blue cardigan of the night before and a small black fez on top of his head. I was reminded forcibly of a large fly perched on top of an even larger head.
My classmates and I were quiet as we entered the room; Professor Umber was, as yet, an unknown quantity and none of us knew how strict of a disciplinarian he was likely to be. But we were going to find out very soon just how bad this guy could be ...
"Well, good afternoon," he said, when we had all finally sat down.
A few of us mumbled "good afternoon" in reply.
"Tut, tut," said Professor Umber. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply "Good afternoon, Professor Umber". One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umber," we chanted back at him.
"There, now," said Professor Umber sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
Many of us exchanged gloomy looks; the order "wands away" had never before this point been followed by a lesson we had found interesting. I shoved my wand back inside my bag and pulled out a quill, ink and parchment. Professor Umber opened his satchel, extracted his own wand - which has to be one of the shortest wands I have ever seen in my entire life so far - and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:
Defence Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" said Professor Umber, turning to face us with his hands clasped neatly in front of him. "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."
He rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by the "Course Aims".
1. Understand the principles underlying defensive magic.
2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
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. Once we had all copied down Professor Umber's course aims he asked, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilber Slinkhard?"
There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.
"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umber. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, "Yes, Professor Umber," or "No, Professor Umber". So, has everyone got a copy on Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
The words "Yes, Professor Umber," rang through the room.
"Good," said Professor Umber. "I should like you to turn to page five and read "Chapter One, Basics for Beginners". There will be no need to talk."
Professor Umber left the blackboard and settled himself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, and observed us all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. I turned to page five of my copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read.
It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Yawn. I felt my concentration slipping away from me; I had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several dull, silent minutes passed. Next to me, Chrissie was absent-mindedly turning her quill over in her fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. Next to her, Chris just gazed at the book, not really processing anything. I looked right and received a surprise that shook me out of my torpor. Sian had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umber with her hand in the air.
As far as I can remember, this was the only time that Sian had neglected to read when instructed to, or indeed resisting the temptation to open any book that came under her nose. I 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 Umber, who looked just as resolutely in another direction.
After several minutes had passed, however, I was not the only one who was watching Sian. The chapter we were instructed to read was so tedious that more and more people around me chose to watch Sian's mute attempt to catch Professor Umber's eye rather than struggle on with "Basics for Beginners".
When more than half of us stared at Sian rather than at our (boring) books, Professor Umber seemed to decide that he could no longer ignore the situation.
"Do you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" he asked Sian, as though he had only just noticed her.
"Not about the chapter, no," said Sian.
"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umber, showing his small pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."
"I've got a query about your course aims," said Sian.
Professor Umber raised his eyebrows.
"And your name is?"
"Sian Dawson, sir," said Sian. Then she said pointedly, "The Eldest Dawson Girl and Susan Crighton's eldest daughter."
Professor Umber stared at her for a moment, studying her, contemplating her, like a deliciously large fly he wanted to eat. Then he said, "Will you see me after class, Miss Dawson?"
"Certainly, sir," said Sian calmly, looking at him steadily.
"Good," said Professor Umber very sweetly. "Now back to your original theory, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them carefully," he said in a voice of determined sweetness.
"Well, I don't," said Sian bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."
There was a short silence in which many of my classmates turned their heads to frown at the three course aims that were still written on the blackboard.
"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umber repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Dawson. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
"We're not going to use magic?" Chrissie exclaimed loudly.
"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Miss - ?"
"Dawson," said Chrissie, thrusting her hand into the air. Professor Umber looked from Sian to Chrissie, studying them in surprise, before he smiled widely and turned his back on her.
Sian and I immediately raised our hands too. Professor Umber's pouchy eyes lingered on me for a moment before he addressed Sian.
"Yes, Miss Dawson? You wanted to ask something else?"
"Yes," said Sian. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"
"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Dawson?" said Professor Umber, in his falsely sweet babyish voice.
"No, but - "
"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 - "
"What use is that?" I said loudly. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a - "
"Hand, Miss Pride-Lander!" sang Professor Umber.
I thrust my fist in the air. Again, Professor Umber promptly turned away from me, but now several other people had raised their hands up, too.
"And your name is?" Professor Umber said to Dena Wright.
"Dena Wright."
"Well, Miss Wright?"
"Well, it's like Kiara said, isn't it?" said Dena. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free."
"I repeat," said Professor Umber, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dena, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"
"No, but - "
Professor Umber talked over her. "I do not wish to criticise the way things have been done in this school," he said, an unconvincing smile stretching his wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention," he gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."
"If you mean Professor Meers," Dena piped up angrily, "he was the best we ever - "
"Hand, Miss Wright! As I was saying - you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day - "
"No we haven't," Sian said, "we just - "
"Your hand is not up, Miss Dawson!"
Sian put up her hand. Professor Umber turned away from her.
"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, she actually performed them on you. And your name is?" he said, looking at Chris.
"Chris Rickers, and it turned out that she was a maniac! Mind you, we still learned loads."
"That may be," said Professor Umber, "but it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be far more sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. Yes?" he added, staring at Perry, whose hand had just shot up.
"Perry Party, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?"
"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason as to why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," said Professor Umber dismissively.
"Without ever practicing beforehand?" said Perry incredulously. "Are you seriously telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be performing our exam?"
"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough - "
"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" I said loudly, my fist in the air again.
Professor Umber looked up.
"This is school, Miss Pride-Lander, not the real world," said Umber softly.
"What kind of crazy, messed-up logic is this that you are telling us, sir?" said Sian indignantly. "Yes, this is school, but school is about preparing us for life, is it not? To train us up for our careers and also learn the skills to survive if we need them. So therefore, if we are in a position in real life outside school, when we are attacked, we can't just say, "Would you mind waiting a moment before I check my textbook and look for the spell?", or, "Would you mind not attacking me, because I am not that skilled?" No. No attacker is going to be that merciful, are they? They're going to attack us whether we're ready or not, and from the way you're planning on teaching us, Professor, we're going to be dead before we can yell for help, never mind trying to defend ourselves!"
There was a long pause, during which Professor Umber and Sian stared at each other, each trying to size the other up, and as they did this, the strong words that Sian had spoken were forced into all our heads. In a way, it reminded me of something Grumpy would say.
Following this, I said, "So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?"
"There is nothing waiting out there, Miss Pride-Lander."
"Oh, yeah?" I said. My temper, which seemed to have been bubbling just below the surface all that day, was just below boiling point.
"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" enquired Professor Umber in a horribly honeyed voice.
"Hmm, let's think ..." I said, in a mock-thoughtful voice. "Maybe ... Lady Zira?"
Chris and Chrissie gasped; Larry Brown uttered a little scream; Nikita slipped sideways off her stool. Professor Umber, however, did not flinch. He stared at me with a grimly satisfied expression on his face.
"Ten points from Lion-Heart, Miss Pride-Lander."
The entire class was still and silent. Everyone stared at either myself or Umber.
"Now, let me make a few things quite plain."
Professor Umber stood up and leaned towards us, his stubby-fingered hands splayed on his desk.
"You have been told that a certain Dark witch has returned from the dead - "
"She wasn't dead," I said angrily, "but yeah, she's returned!"
"Miss-Pride-Lander-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse for-yourself," said Professor Umber in one breath without looking at me. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark witch is at large once again. This is a lie."
"It is NOT a lie!" I said. "I saw her, I fought her!"
"Detention, Miss Pride-Lander!" said Professor Umber triumphantly. "This 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 witch or wizard. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark witches, 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"."
Professor Umber sat down behind his desk. I, on the other hand, wasn't done yet, so I stood up, ready to unleash the fire within me. Everyone stared at me; Zara looked half-scared, half-fascinated.
"Kiara, no!" Sian whispered in a warning voice, tugging at my sleeve, but I jerked my arm out of her reach, determined to have my say, consequences be damned!
"So, according to you, Georgia Diggs dropped dead of her own accord, did she?" I asked, my voice shaking.
There was a collective intake of breath from my classmates, for none of them, apart from Chris, Sian and Chrissie, had ever heard me talk about what had happened on the night Georgia had died. They stared avidly from myself to Professor Umber, who had raised his eyes and stared at me without any trace of a fake smile on his face.
"Georgia Diggs' death was a tragic accident," he said coldly.
"It was murder," I said. I felt myself shaking. I had hardly spoken to anyone about this, least of all thirty eagerly listening classmates. "Zira killed her and you know it."
Professor Umber's face was quite blank. For a moment, I thought he was going to scream at me. Then he said, in his softest, most sweetly babyish voice, "Come here, Miss Pride-Lander, dear."
I kicked my chair aside, strode around Chris, Sian and Chrissie and up to the teacher's desk. I felt the rest of the class holding its breath. I felt so angry that I didn't care what happened next.
Professor Umber pulled a small roll of baby-blue parchment out of his satchel, stretched it out on the desk, dipped his quill into a bottle of ink and started scribbling, hunched over so that I didn't see what he wrote. No one spoke. After a minute or so he rolled up the parchment and tapped it with his wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that I could not open it.
"Take this to Professor Darbus, dear," said Professor Umber, holding the note out to me.
I took it from him without saying a word, turned on my heel and left the room, not bothering to look back at Chris, Sian and Chrissie as I went, slamming the classroom door shut behind me. I walked very fast along the corridor, the note to Darbus clutched tight in my hand, and I turned a corner and walked right into Weeves the poltergeist, a wide-mouthed little woman floating on her back in midair, juggling several inkwells.
"Why, it's Pridey wee Pride-Lander!" cackled Weeves, allowing two of the inkwells to fall to the ground where they smashed and spattered the walls with ink; I jumped backwards out of the way with a snarl.
"Get out of it, Weeves!"
"Oooh, Crackpot's feeling cranky," said Weeves, as she pursued me along the corridor, leering as she zoomed along above me. "What is it this time, my fine Pridey friend? Hearing voices? Seeing visions? Speaking in - " Weeves blew a gigantic raspberry " - tongues?"
"I said, leave me ALONE!" I shouted, running down the nearest flight of stairs, but Weeves merely slid down the banister on her back beside me.
"Oh, most think she's barking, the Pridey wee girl,
But some are more kindly and think she shines as bright as a pearl,
But Weevsey knows better and says that she's mad - "
"SHUT UP!"
A door to my left flew open and Professor Darbus emerged from her office looking grim and slightly harassed.
"What on earth are you shouting about, Pride-Lander?" she snapped, as Weeves cackled gleefully and zoomed out of sight. "Why aren't you in class?"
"I've been sent to see you," I said stiffly.
"Sent?" What do you mean, sent?"
I held out the note from Professor Umber. Professor Darbus took it from me, frowned, 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 Umber wrote, and with each line they became narrower.
"Come in here, Pride-Lander."
I followed her inside her study. The door closed automatically behind me.
"Well?" said Professor Darbus, rounding on me. "Is this true?"
"Is what true?" I asked, rather more aggressively than I had intended. "Professor?" I added, in an attempt to sound not only more polite, but apologetic too.
"Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umber?"
"Yes," I said.
"That you called him a liar?"
"Yes."
"You told him She Who Must Not Be Named is back?"
"Yes."
Professor Darbus sat down behind her desk, watching me closely. Then she said, "Have a biscuit, Pride-Lander."
"Have - what?"
"Have a biscuit," she said impatiently, indicating a tartan tin lying on top of one of the piles of papers on her desk. "And sit down."
There had been an occasion prior to this one, when I expected to be caned by Professor Darbus, but instead I found myself on the Lion-Heart Quidditch team. I sank into a chair opposite her and helped myself to a Ginger Newt, feeling just as confused and wrong-footed as I had done on that occasion.
Professor Darbus set down Professor Umber's note and looked very seriously at me.
"Pride-Lander, you need to be careful."
I swallowed my mouthful of Ginger Newt and stared at her. Her tone of voice was not at all what I had expected it to sound; it was not the brisk, crisp and stern tone that I was used to; it was low and anxious and somehow much more human than usual.
"Misbehaviour in Democritus Umber's class could cost you much more than house points and a detention."
"What do you - ?"
"Pride-Lander, use your common sense," snapped Professor Darbus, with an abrupt return to her usual manner. "You know where he comes from, you must know to whom he is reporting."
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 he's given you detention every evening this week, starting tonight," Professor Darbus said, looking down at Umber's note again.
"Every evening this week!" I said, horrified. "But, Professor, couldn't you - ?"
"No, I couldn't," said Professor Darbus flatly.
"But - "
"He is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will go to his room at five o'clock tonight for the first one. Just remember: tread carefully around Democritus Umber."
"But I was telling the truth!" I said, outraged. "Zira is back, you know she is; Professor Crighton knows she is - "
"For heaven's sake, Pride-Lander!" said Professor Darbus, as she straightened her glasses angrily (she had winced horribly when I had used Zira's name). "Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It's about keeping your head down and your temper under control!"
She stood up, nostrils wide and mouth very thin, and I stood up too.
"Have another biscuit," she said irritably, thrusting the tin at me.
"No, thanks," I said coldly.
"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped.
I took one.
"Thanks," I said grudgingly.
"Didn't you listen to Democritus Umber's speech at the start-of-term feast, Pride-Lander?"
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah ... he said ... progress will be prohibited or ... well, it meant that ... that the Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Dragon Mort."
Professor Darbus eyed me closely for a moment, then sniffed, walked around her desk and held the door open for me.
"Well, I'm glad you listen to Sian Dawson at any rate," she said, pointing me out of her office.
SIAN
The bell rang. Around her, students were scrambling for the door, all eager to put as much space between them and Umber as possible before the next time they were all in a confined space with him again. Chris and Chrissie looked at Sian nervously, but she just nodded at them to go on without her, for she knew that they were nervous for her about her talk with Umber, but Sian herself knew that she would be fine. True, she was quite nervous when stepping up to the teacher's desk, but she wasn't about to let Umber see that. After all, as she had been told many times before: in the face of adversity, stand tall, stand your ground, keep composed, show no fear.
Once the door had closed, Umber stood up. Sian towered over him. If he was a different person, Sian would have been pleased by this; but knowing who he was, Sian kept her emotions in check.
"You wanted to speak with me, Professor Umber?"
"Yes, indeed I did," said Professor Umber in that annoying babyish voice of his that made Sian's insides squirm uncomfortably. "I understand that you're close with your mother, is that correct?"
"Yes," said Sian slowly. "What about it?" Sian was curious and slightly worried about his intentions now, but still, she kept her composure.
"Well, I just wondered if your mother has said anything to you about your friend, Miss Pride-Lander?"
"And what if she has?" Sian asked carefully, studying the man in front of her closely.
"Well, I'm just curious to know what your mother has to say about her," said Umber sweetly, "and what she thinks about Miss Pride-Lander in general. Bear in mind, that whatever you say to me will be kept in confidence - "
Sian laughed at this; she couldn't help it. "Confidence?" she spat. "Really? You expect me to believe that, do you?"
Umber stared at Sian blankly. "But of course I do, dear. Whatever you tell me I shall not share with anyone - "
"Really?" Sian interrupted him. "Not even the Minister, Professor?"
Sian then saw something that she couldn't name flicker across Umber's face, and she knew she had him. She knew that he was trying to get in between her and her mother, and there was no way that Sian was going to give in to him. An undeniable feeling of fiery rage and hatred towards this man consumed her in that moment. So Sian drew herself up to her fullest height and told him, "Sir, you can do whatever you want to me, but let me make this perfectly clear: my loyalty to my mother will never fade. I will never tell you what you want to know. I will stand by my mother's side, proud and strong, like I have always done. True, I wasn't by her side last year, but in my heart I was, even though the circumstances were different - I know that, you don't have to tell me about it," she said, brushing her hand aside impatiently. "The point is is that no matter what happens I will not betray my mother, my family or my friends to you. The loyalty to my mother will never die, and not you nor anyone else will ever come between us."
"So," said Umber, the babyish tone in his voice gone; his face hardened and he glared up into the steely gaze of the proud, strong girl above him, "so ... that's how it is, is it?"
"I'm afraid so, sir," said Sian, not backing down. "Just because you're from the Ministry does not mean that I'm scared of you. Not only that, but I will not give up on my family to chase my ambitions."
Umber's face hardened even more. "You're treading on dangerous waters here, Miss Dawson. You will not win."
"Funny, I was going to say the exact same thing to you." A small glimpse of amusement flashed across Sian's face, before she turned on her heel and left.
Once the door shut, Sian leaned against it, and breathed out a small sigh of relief. She was worried about her family this year, about what Umber would do to get to each of them. But Sian meant what she said: she wasn't about to let Umber or anyone else who stood in between she and her family tear her away from them, for until her dying day, no matter how old they got, no matter the circumstances, Sian would always be there to defend them. She made that promise to herself, ever since the day that she -
Sian shook her head. She would not go there. Not now. Remembering that it was time for dinner, Sian quickly dashed off, unaware that a figure with piercing green eyes was watching her with pride and love shining out of them.