Chapter 12: Umbridge takes umbridge
On Friday, Albus had a visitor to his office.
"Hem, hem."
"Come in, Delores," said Dumbledore, putting down his quill and indicating a chair in front of his desk.
"I'm glad you've asked to speak to me." said Umbridge, getting straight to the point. "I wish to speak to you about the behaviour of some of the students,"
"I'm glad you've picked that topic," said Dumbledore, amiably, "That was just what I wanted to talk to you about."
Severus had been busy in the last few weeks. He'd found out a number of things he didn't like. And when Severus found out things he didn't like, he told them to Albus. At length. This time though, Albus couldn't but agree with him.
"There's a lack of discipline in many classes in the school," continued Delores, assuming she had carte blanche to go on, "As well as a lack of fundamental knowledge of many aspects of magical theory…"
"I hate to interrupt you, Delores," said Dumbledore, doing just that, "But you seem to be under the misapprehension that you are here to voice your complaints. You are here because I summoned you here. It has come to my attention that you are overly harsh when it comes to discipline in your classes. From now on, this will stop."
"How dare... I will discipline students as I see fit!" retorted Umbridge, "It is your laxity that has brought us to this point. I was appointed to this post by the Minister. I answer to him, not you."
"That is where you are wrong, Delores. You were appointed by the Minister, but as a member of staff working in my school, you are answerable to me. You may not like this, but right now, you have no other powers. I will be perfectly honest with you. I know you have the ear of the minister, and that you are currently a very junior member of the Wizengamot, and you are a department head. But you do not have the clout you think you do. There are members of my staff who, while not intimidated by you, are circumspect in how they interact with you. I am not one of those people. At Hogwarts, my will prevails."
"You are here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, "Because the minister wants you here. Either because you are doing a task for him here, or, he wants you away from the ministry. It was not your choice to be here. I was there, remember? You do not create your own rules. Don't think I don't know what you've been doing. I have ears in the ministry. You have tried to wheedle extra powers out of the minister. Ones that would give you more authority here. That has not worked. In a few years, perhaps it might have done. But instead, you are here, teaching the Defense curriculum as a normal member of my staff. As such, you will abide by the code of teaching here, as dictated by me."
"How dare you…" began Umbridge.
"I have not finished," snapped Dumbledore sharply. That tone made Umbridge close her mouth with an audible click, "I was saying, you have been overly harsh with the students. This will stop immediately. While I give staff the freedom to manage classes as they like, I am changing the rules from now on. From now on, students may only be caned by me. You may request caning as a punishment for any student and I will consider it. You will also no longer conduct detentions during the hours of mealtimes. I may add other restrictions as I see fit. You will abide by these new restrictions or you will hand in your notice. Which is it to be?"
Umbridge opened her mouth to argue. Dumbledore merely raised a single finger, "You may only pick one of these options. Don't test me on this."
Umbridge glared malevolently at him, "I will abide by your restrictions. Expect requests for discipline in the near future," she said acidly, before getting up and leaving the office.
Over the next two weeks, the student body worked out that Umbridge was no longer allowed to give out harsh punishments. There had been a short-lived flurry of students testing the boundary, halted suddenly by the not inaccurate rumour that Professor Flickwick had slippered a student in his house for saying to Umbridge she couldn't punish him if he called her names like Umbitch.
Slytherin beat Gryffindor in the first match of the season. It was a close game, and Flint had fielded Malfoy who'd vastly improved over summer. It turned out Draco hadn't been exaggerating when he said his father had paid for him private coaching sessions. He'd played Chaser well. Fred and George were annoyed about the loss, but responded by practising a lot more. Hufflepuff were going to get creamed in their next game.
There was an ongoing spat between Hermione and Ron over their familiars, but everyone had got so used to it it barely registered with anyone anymore. Hermione was also annoyed that Dudley had successfully become very popular with her half-kneazle. 'Cat person' was all Dudley would say smugly, whenever Crookshanks curled up on his lap.
Snape continued his mentor sessions with Harry, and Dudley still had periodic sessions with Healer Jones. Jones had requested Harry join one of those sessions.
"Good evening, Harry, thank you for joining us." Harry took a seat on a couch next to Dudley. There was a spare couch, the Healer was sitting in an armchair, but Harry was happy to sit next to Dudley. "Dudley and I have spent time talking about how suddenly being able to do magic affected his relationships with others, especially with his muggle friends and you and your aunt and uncle. So I thought it'd be a good time for the two of you to talk. I've heard the two of you mended a few fences over summer."
Harry thought about summer. It'd gone by so fast, apart from the Marge week (that he'd tried to blank from his mind). The more he thought about it, the more he realised he'd enjoyed summer. He'd done normal childhood things. He knew what normal looked like, it was just that in the past they weren't things he'd ever done.
"We got on," said Harry, finally, "We did stuff. It was nice."
"What did you enjoy the most, Harry?" asked the Healer. Harry thought about it for a bit.
"Swimming. We went nearly every day. It was great once I could swim."
"I never realised you'd never learnt," said Dudley apologetically, "I wouldn't have sunk you otherwise."
"Yeah, I know," replied Harry.
"What was your favourite part, Dudley?" asked the Healer.
"Just any time we were out of the house," said Dudley, "Dad got a bit much. He's better though," he added hurriedly, "He's just not very good about magic."
"He's still a nut," said Harry. Dudley shrugged in partial agreement.
"Did you fight or argue with each other much?" asked Jones.
"Not more than you'd expect," said Dudley. Harry nodded agreement at Dudley's answer.
"We had a bit of a sulk at each other over Marge, well, Umbridge, well, Snape, but well duh! That wasn't a good day," said Dudley.
"I'm glad you mentioned that incident, Dudley. Harry, as Professor Snape is your head of house, do you have any resentment over him caning the pair of you?"
There was a very long drawn out silence. Harry felt Dudley tense beside him. Both of them did excellent impressions of rabbits in headlights. Healer Jones thankfully misread their reactions.
"I can completely understand if that is the case. But with Professor Snape being your head of house, I can't help but think if you feel any animosity toward him you should talk it through with me. Given how Hogwarts operates, you can appreciate that any reprisals you might make wouldn't go down well."
The Healer's talking had given Harry time to realise that when Snape said no-one knew, then honestly, no-one knew, "Umbridge is the one I resent. Or the Minister. She said he'd allowed our punishment. I think Snape did it so that no-one else did. I don't resent him for it though," said Harry carefully treading his way around avoiding lies. He felt Dudley relax next to him.
Obstacle navigated.
"Dudley, do you have resentment towards either professor?" asked Jones.
"Not anymore," he answered honestly, "Like Harry, I don't resent Snape, and Umbridge, well, meh."
"Meh?"
"She's not the sort of person to prank in revenge, is she?" asked Dudley, also carefully. He knew the Healer could spot lies.
"I suppose not," said the Healer, still a touch unsure of Dudley's answer, "I feel the need to ask that you not to do anything, shall we say, precipitous. She holds grudges, and you'll get caught."
Dudley shrugged. Dudley and the twins had told Harry about Umbridge and her wand. He'd had his revenge on behalf of them both. Harry had been properly impressed with the plan and execution, and the fact that Dudley had said he'd got payback for them both.
The Healer realised he wouldn't get any further tilting at that windmill and dropped it.
"You are both aware of Sirius Black?" Both boys nodded. Harry had passed on to Dudley what Snape and Lupin had told him.
The Healer knew about the break-in on Halloween night, but neither boy did. The aurors had done a good job of telling the press that Black had been 'sighted' and they had turned out in force around Hogwarts that night, and after much searching declared it a false alarm.
In reality, extra aurors had been stationed undercover in Hogsmeade, and the hidden passages had been blocked with strong warding spells.
"Harry, I know some people might think you should seek revenge on Black for your parents, but you are a young boy with relatively few magical skills. I can only impress on you, both of you, to Stay. Away. From. Black. He has murdered muggles and a wizard. If you see anything of him, run away and report it. If you see anything odd, report it. Professor Snape said you still have a propensity to do what you believe is right, rather than what you need to do. I've seen those traits in you too. Please, for your own safety, both of you, please behave like normal 13 year olds."
"Yeah, I know," said Harry. Logically he did know. He knew what the Healer meant. He didn't trust people to do things though. He'd grown up believing if he didn't do it himself no-one would do it for him.
"Really," said Dudley, recognising Harry's tone, "If you see a deadly mass murderer, run like f…"
"I think that's a good place to leave it tonight, boys," interrupted Jones, preventing Dudley from finishing his sentence, "I will arrange to visit Privet Drive over the holidays. Have a nice rest of term."
Filch was in his office, muttering to himself and Mrs Norris, who was weaving between his legs.
"Magical school, but as usual, it's me who has to keep it clean. Bloody quidditch practice, traipsing their mess everywhere. Do they appreciate me, Mrs Norris? Do they hell! These magical brats, not a single one has any gratitude for the work we do."
It was perhaps a blessing for Mrs Norris that she didn't understand English, as it was a similar tirade every evening, varying only with the problem at hand - Peeves, students, mess, Myrtle. Filch had been lost last year without Mrs Norris. It would have surprised people to find out he'd burst into tears when Minerva brought him Mrs Norris, back from being petrified.
He turned when heard his office door open, about to tear into a student for not knocking, arrogant brats.
"Hem, hem."
"Madam Umbridge, ma'am," said Filch, obsequiously, "What can I do for you this evening?"
Filch liked Umbridge. He didn't have anything to do with her, and had barely interacted with her, but she appreciated the fact that students should treat adults with respect. Even more so than Snape. Snape was a funny one, Filch didn't exactly like Snape much, the man knew too much about how Hogwarts worked. But Umbridge, she was Filch's kind of person. Punishment first, questions later.
What Argus didn't realise was that he wasn't Umbridge's kind of person. He was a squib. To her, he was the lowest rung on the ladder, perhaps even lower than muggles. In her eyes he was a failed wizard.
Umbridge sniffed in contempt, looking round his office. He had quite a nice office. The students assumed he'd have a pokey janitor's closet, but in fact he had his private rooms in the back and a nicely appointed, bright, warm, airy office. There was a vague smell of fried fish, but contrary to popular belief, he liked it that way. He liked fried fish, and Mrs Norris loved it once the batter had been removed. Umbridge wrinkled her nose at the smell.
Mrs Norris was about the only thing Umbridge liked about Filch. It was a shame for Umbridge that Mrs Norris sensed Umbridge hated her Filch and in turn treated Umbridge with the contempt only a cat can.
"I need you to let me into a room that's locked," said Umbridge peremptorily.
"Yes, ma'am," responded Filch, quickly reaching for his keys, "Wherever you need to be, your wish is my command."
"I need access to the Potions supply room on the dungeon corridor, now," stated Umbridge.
Filch paused midway across his office, heading to the door, "Professor Snape will have a key to there."
"I'm sure he does," said Umbridge, "But I don't want to disturb him, come along," she said in tones that were at the same time sing-song primary school teacher and demanding.
"It's just, Professor Snape keeps a very careful inventory," said Filch.
"And that inventory belongs to Hogwarts, not his personal collection. Stop dithering, man!"
Filch suddenly realised he was arguing with his favourite staff member, got a grip, and escorted Umbridge to the dungeons, "I do apologise, ma'am, I didn't mean to say I wouldn't, I'm just surprised, it's only ever Professor Snape who accesses there."
"Do you have keys to everywhere?" asked Umbridge, now waiting in front of the cupboard for Filch to find the right key on the enormous keyring.
"Oh yes, ma'am. These are specially charmed keys. They open everywhere in the castle, even magically locked rooms. You have Alohamora, but I've got keys," he said, proudly rattling them. He selected a small, bronze key and inserted it in the lock, "What would you be wanting?" asked Filch, purely out of curiosity and harmless conversation."
"That's none of your business," snapped Umbridge rudely. Mrs Norris, ever present around Filch's ankles hissed in response.
"Of course not, ma'am, apologies," said Filch hurriedly.
Umbridge, on her way into the room 'accidentally' trod on Mrs Norris' tail. She went into the supply room, looked around the shelves, selected two vials from the top shelf, pocketed it, and left the room again. Filch had picked up Mrs Norris and was gently stroking her. He looked at Umbridge with a hurt expression. Umbridge stalked away without a word of thanks leaving Filch to lock up the room again.