A/N: Wow, I amaze myself. Another chapter in two days. This one was very easy to write, unlike the last one. My keyboard should be smoking. We have some more action in this chapter! In upcoming chapters there will be more action as well. About Umbridge – she belongs to JKR, of course, and Phoenix was a year away from publication when I first started this story, but somehow she worked her way into it. She's just so horribly creepy.
starrdancerr: Welcome to the story! I'm glad you're enjoying it. I agree – there is nothing better than finding a good story that is mostly done (or completed). That way you don't have to wait for installments.
totallystellar: I think the inspiration dust worked. You urged me to HURRY UP AND WRITE and bingo! You can't underestimate that dust. Ron's talent should be revealed pretty soon. Mwahaha!
Kaye: Hah, you're a repeater! I knew your name looked familiar. What took me so long? Chapter 25 was a pain. Hopefully this will mollify you for now. I hate Umbridge too. Thanks for the encouragement!
Danae: Nice to hear from you again! Thanks for your review. I love the fact that you called the chapter "fantastic". Hmm, probably not much Remus/Celeste fluff coming up… expect sadness instead. :-( The Ministry will make trouble for the low-key romance… Sniff. (P.S.: I don't usually give away plot points.)
One more note: I addressed the lurkers last chapter. This time I'd like to say hello to all you reviewers of the past! You've all given me great feedback and kept me going. Without you I would have discontinued the story ages ago. That being said, let's get to the story.
Chapter 26: Blood in the Water
Umbridge turned up in Harry's Potions class on her first day there, much to Snape's obvious chagrin. She sat in a footstool in a corner, never saying a word, scribbling furiously in a notebook whenever anything was said. After Potions, she followed the fifth year Gryffindors to Divination, where she ensconced herself in a corner yet again. She turned up in their History of Magic class and Care of Magical Creatures as well. Harry thought that the weight of her eyes on his back was going to leave a permanent indentation.
Soon the school was buzzing with the news that Dolores Umbridge was spying on Harry Potter. Harry knew that it wasn't just him she was interested in; Ron and Hermione also complained of her stares. The other professors were giving Harry plenty of their own glances, most of them sympathetic. Professor Thornby was clearly on edge. Harry didn't feel any imminent danger himself, but supposed that she was being assaulted by waves of warning.
The next morning Harry, Ron, and Hermione were dismayed to see Umbridge at the staff table for breakfast. She was dressed in a pale pink sweater that looked like cotton candy, and there was a matching silk bow atop her peroxide curls. She smiled sweetly at them all and took a sip from her coffee cup.
"Ten Galleons says she follows us to Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Harry.
"No bet," sighed Ron.
Indeed, when the three of them got up to leave for class, Umbridge rose from her seat and followed. She kept her distance the whole way, but she trailed them all the way from the Great Hall to the classroom. Every time Harry, Ron, or Hermione looked over their shoulders, she gave them a simper from twenty feet behind.
A few groans sounded from the students as Umbridge followed Harry and his friends in. At the front of the class, Bellaton raised one dark eyebrow but said nothing. Harry took his seat and stared straight ahead. Bellaton gave him a shrewd look that Harry did not return. The students were very quiet; for a minute there was no sound but the soft scratching of Dolores Umbridge's quill on her parchment.
When the bell rang, Bellaton addressed the students as if their guest were nowhere in sight. "Good morning, class!" he boomed, flashing his white teeth at them. "I hope you all had a good night's sleep, because you're going to need your energy today. Everyone up!"
The students stood, grinning at each other. Practical lessons were everyone's favorite and Bellaton gave plenty of them.
"Today we will be practicing the Patronus Charm," said Bellaton. Excited chatter broke out around the room. "Now, the Patronus is –"
"Hem, hem."
Bellaton stopped talking and turned to look at Umbridge. "May I help you, madam?" he said, inclining his head politely.
"Professor Bellaton, surely you are aware that a scant few of these children will be able to produce anything more than wisps of smoke."
All of the students were staring at Umbridge with expressions of disbelief. Her voice was high-pitched and syrupy, and she spoke to Bellaton as if she were addressing a very stupid child. It was not the kind of sound that any of them had expected her to make.
Bellaton smiled broadly at her. He looked completely unfazed by the interruption. "As I was just about to tell them, no, I do not expect many of them to manage much on their first day," he said. "With time and practice, however, they should all be able to manage it."
Umbridge laughed girlishly. The sound sent shivers down Harry's spine. "My dear professor, I fear that you are wasting your time, especially since they will never need to use this charm. The well-being of the magical community's citizens is one of Minister Fudge's highest priorities. And seeing as there are no significant threats to the community at present, there is no need for your students to struggle with such a difficult charm."
Before Bellaton could reply, Neville spoke up. "Professor Trelawney said that You-Know-Who is getting stronger." Several students stared at him in open-mouthed shock. Shy, quiet Neville was questioning this woman?
A sneer crossed Umbridge's face. "Yes, your Professor Trelawney," she said. "After having observed her class yesterday, I must say that I don't think much of her skills. Of course, her reputation as a fraud precedes her."
"She's not a fraud!" cried Lavender. Parvati looked scandalized.
"Oh, didn't you know, dear?" said Umbridge, her voice dripping sour honey. "Sibyll Trelawney is indeed descended from the great Seer Cassandra Trelawney, but any gift she possesses is weak at best. There is no record that she has ever made an accurate prediction in her life."
Lavender burst into tears. Harry opened his mouth to set Umbridge straight, but Hermione elbowed him hard in the ribs.
"Now, now, miss Brown," said Bellaton soothingly. "Take heart. I don't know about Professor Trelawney's past, but she made a true prediction that night. I have seen it done before. She was Seeing – I would stake my life on it." Lavender sniffed and smiled tremulously.
"Would you, now?" said Umbridge softly.
By now Harry was feeling very apprehensive. There was a feral light in Umbridge's eyes that hadn't been there before, as if she were a shark that had scented blood in the water. Bellaton, however, merely smiled at her as if they were having a chat over tea.
"Oh, indeed," he said. "Prophecies are not terribly uncommon. I have heard tell that you have witnessed more than one yourself."
Umbridge gave Bellaton a false smile. "True, I have. But there were no members of the Ministry present to hear Professor Trelawney's prediction, so I cannot say what it was like. Even if she was Seeing, you will notice that she never mentioned You-Know-Who." She turned her piercing gaze on Neville who shrank beneath it. "She mentioned an enemy. This could be anyone. Who is to say it did not refer to a personal enemy of hers? Needless to say, it could not be You-Know-Who, because he was vanquished fourteen years ago and cannot return."
"That's not true!" said Dean.
"Yes," said Seamus. "Harry –"
Umbridge opened her mouth again, a triumphant look on her face, but Bellaton spoke first. "Madam, you have made the excellent point that there are many ways to look at every situation," he said, inclining his head again, "but we are losing valuable practice time. As much as I appreciate your opinion, I must teach this class as I see fit."
Umbridge was watching Harry. "Of course," she said, never taking her eyes off him.
For once, Harry didn't feel the weight of her stare. Dean and Seamus believed him! They'd never given Harry the impression that they thought he was lying, but they'd never said it outright before. First Neville, then Parvati, and now them. Harry's heart felt as light as air.
"As I was saying," said Bellaton, "the Patronus is a guardian that one can summon in times of need. In order to cast it, you must be thinking of a very happy memory – the best you can summon. The Patronus can protect against humans and other magical creatures. It will not block curses or hexes. Each person's Patronus takes the form of an animal. Mine, for example, is a lion. Perhaps I should demonstrate."
The students backed up as Bellaton drew his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, and from his wand burst a huge lion with a great silver mane. A few of the girls screamed and everyone backed up. The lion gazed around at them all for a few moments and then turned in Umbridge's direction. With a roar it sprang toward her, jaws wide. Umbridge shrieked and fell off her stool, but Bellaton waved his wand and the creature vanished before it reached her.
"My apologies," said Bellaton, striding over to the fluffy pink heap on the floor. He extended his hand. "I fear that our slight disagreement caused my Patronus to run for you. Of course, it will attack the greatest perceived threat."
"Of course," said Umbridge shakily as Bellaton helped her up. She resettled herself on her stool and began to scribble furiously on her parchment.
The students were whispering excitedly among themselves. "Yes, I know you're excited now," said Bellaton, "but as I said before, most of you will produce nothing at all, perhaps for some time. It will take practice and considerable effort to learn, but if you stick with it, you will all be successful in the end. Now, the incantation is Expecto Patronum. Repeat after me, if you please!"
They practiced the pronunciation until Bellaton was satisfied, and then he chose five students at random. They stood in a line, facing a wall ten feet away. "When I give the signal, you five will cast the charm," said Bellaton. "Remember, think of the happiest moment of your life. Ready? One, two, three!"
"Expecto Patronum!" they chorused together, and a wisp of silver-gray smoke floated from the tip of Dean's wand.
"Excellent, Mr. Thomas!" cried Bellaton. "Let's try again!"
They went in groups, each casting the Patronus Charm several times before the next group began. Ron and Neville managed a few wisps of smoke, but of all of them, Hermione was the best beginner. When she cast the charm, a great deal of mist flew from her wand in a lumpy mass. By the time class ended, it had begun to form a vague shape, much to her delight.
Harry, of course, trumped them all. When the silver stag burst from his wand and galloped around the room, everyone burst into applause. Everyone except for Umbridge, that is, who fell off her stool again when the stag charged her. Harry made the Patronus vanish in time though he would rather have let it trample her.
"So that's what you did to Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle at the Quidditch match!" laughed Seamus as they left the classroom. Harry smiled at the memory.
"You sure know a lot of complicated spells," said Dean. "You just practice the spell once, and poof! It works."
Since Harry now knew that they believed his story about Voldemort's return, he decided to go ahead and tell them the truth. He looked behind him and saw Umbridge following as usual, but she was too far away to overhear. "Not this time. Lupin taught me on account of the dementors. Just don't tell Umbridge."
Seamus, Dean, and Neville all nodded. "But was it easy to learn?" said Neville.
"No," said Harry. "It took me weeks and weeks to get it right, but now that I've got it, I can do it pretty much all the time. Of course, it's a lot harder to conjure when you actually need it."
The others gave him sideways glances, but no one commented. "You did pretty well today, Neville," said Hermione. "What's your happy memory?"
"Stunning Malfoy," said Neville, and everyone laughed.
**********
Umbridge continued to follow Harry to class until some of the fifth years – from all Houses – complained to their Heads of House. Harry wasn't one of those who had spoken up, but he was glad when Umbridge was forced to lurk around some other students instead. Rumor had it that Dumbledore had spoken to her, but he never confirmed it himself. Every time anyone saw Dumbledore with Umbridge, he treated her as if she were an honored guest instead of an interloper.
The week went much faster for Harry once Umbridge was no longer breathing down his neck. Unfortunately, he wasn't home free yet; Umbridge had expressed a wish to watch the Dueling Club in action, and had even suggested a tournament. This idea was greeted with enthusiasm from nearly all the students, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione distrusted every word that passed Umbridge's lips. Professor Thornby didn't look too thrilled about it either. Bellaton, however, calmly said that they had been planning on doing something like this anyway. He scheduled the practice for that Friday night, but he refused to call it a tournament.
By the time the Dueling Club meeting rolled around the entire school was buzzing with anticipation. Everyone showed up in the Great Hall at seven o'clock sharp – all the professors, Hagrid, Filch, the ghosts, and every student, including the ones who didn't participate in the club. All of the members of the staff, save Bellaton and Professor Thornby, seated themselves at the head table. The students who were just there to watch pulled up benches, but the House tables had all been cleared away.
Although he distrusted Umbridge's motives, Harry was feeling excited. Ron was practically bouncing on his toes, and Hermione had her game face on. The Great Hall was filled with an excited buzz.
Bellaton raised his voice above the din. "Welcome, everyone! This is going to be an exciting evening. Tonight the members of the Dueling Club will practice sparring with their peers." Applause broke out. "Students will only spar against their classmates – no younger, no older. The winner of each match will advance to the next round. Now, don't feel bad if you lose a match! You are here to learn, after all, and no one is perfect by any means. Remember that all of you, save one from each year, will lose at least one round. Take this as a chance to learn from your opponents. Right! Are we ready?"
More applause and noise sounded. The students divided up by year, and Bellaton and Professor Thornby began randomly pairing them off. When Professor Thornby matched Harry up with Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw, she caught Harry's eye for a moment. She reminded him of a bowstring that had been drawn taut. Caution, her expression seemed to say.
"Madam Umbridge," said Bellaton, striding up to her, "I wonder if you would be so kind as to help us keep the bracket? I have seen your penmanship and it is nothing short of marvelous. Perhaps we will keep a permanent record of this day and we need a neat hand."
Umbridge smiled frostily. "Certainly," she said, and pulled out a clean sheet of parchment.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione smiled at each other. Umbridge had been taking notes on them all week long; Bellaton had just made it much harder for her to do so.
The first years went first. Bellaton, Professor Thornby, Snape, and Professor Sinistra were to watch the contests so four pairs could spar at once. The eight first years faced off against each other and raised shields. Harry smiled to himself; one and all, they looked nervous and very small. Is that what I looked like my first year? he wondered.
Bellaton gave the signal, and the pairs lunged forward. The watching students cheered their friends and housemates on. Most of the dueling students looked a bit clumsy, but Harry recognized the forms as they attacked and defended. Three of the matches were over within sixty seconds, but the fourth went on for three minutes. It finally ended when Jocelyn Bradshaw knocked Sheldon Grantham's staff out of his hands, and the Ravenclaws cheered like mad.
As the first years battled each other, Harry tried to formulate a plan of action. It wasn't easy what with the noise, and he knew that plans only lasted so long anyway. You never knew what your opponent was going to do, so you had to think on the fly. His victory in the first match was by no means certain; Terry was in the skill group below his own, but there had been talk of moving him up.
Ninety minutes passed before it was the fifth years' turn. Harry barely noticed the time; he was too wrapped up in cheering for his own House. Watching Ginny proved to be especially entertaining. Harry realized that she was getting to be quite good. She had quick reflexes and even quicker attacks, and her forms were spot on. She made it all the way to the semi-finals of her year before she was felled by Timothy Armstrong, a Hufflepuff. They shook hands while Fred, George, and Ron whooped their enthusiasm.
Finally it was time. Harry was in the second group, and he watched as Draco, Ernie Macmillan, Hermione, and Michael Corner emerged victorious.
"Yeah, Hermione!" he shouted. Next to him, Ron was shouting much the same thing.
"Right. You're up!" called Bellaton, motioning Harry and the others over. Feeling slightly nervous now, Harry moved onto the open floor and faced Terry. Ron was in this round too, but Harry couldn't think about his friend just then. He Transfigured his wand into a staff and raised a shield. Six feet away, Terry did the same.
When Bellaton shouted "Go!", everything except for Terry Boot flew out of Harry's head. They both advanced quickly, closing the gap between them. Harry was quickest and lunged first; Terry's parry deflected his staff, and Harry was on the defensive. He didn't stay there for long; Terry's attack was off-target and Harry easily deflected it. Still, his opponent wasn't half bad; Harry had to be on his toes the whole time. Oblivious to the other sparring pairs, they attacked back and forth until Terry finally failed to block quickly enough and Harry's staff crashed into his shield at the shoulder.
Harry's ears were suddenly full of the sound of cheering. He looked around to see that he and Terry had lasted the longest; the rest of the Gryffindors were clapping madly.
"Good match, Harry," said Terry, grinning and sticking out his hand.
"You too," panted Harry, grinning back at him.
Ron had won his match, defeating Goyle. "Bigger isn't always better when it comes to this," he said, twirling his staff.
Hermione beamed at the both of them. "Oh, well done!" she exclaimed. "This is exciting, isn't it? I'm up against Blaise Zabini next, and she's not exactly a pushover, but I know her weakness, she always favors her right side, so if I come in on the left…"
She rambled away, and Harry and Ron watched her with a sense of wonder. This was a side of Hermione they had never seen before.
The rounds continued. Harry defeated Michael Corner and Hannah Abbot to make it into the quarterfinals. Ron had to get past Parvati, who proved to be a surprisingly good match, and Kevin Entwhistle to make it that far. Hermione defeated Megan Jones but lost to Ernie MacMillan in a rather drawn-out match.
There were only eight students left. Harry was riding an adrenaline wave; even though he was facing off against the massive Vincent Crabbe next, it didn't bother him in the least. In the end, Crabbe wasn't all that difficult to defeat, as he seemed tired from his previous matches. Ron won his match, as did Padma Patil and Draco.
They drew straws for the semifinals. To Harry's dismay, he was paired with Draco. It's always the two of us, he thought as the four of them took their positions and raised their shields.
Malfoy smiled coldly from across the floor. "Ready to go down, Potter?" he said in his most arrogant tone. He swung his staff lazily from hand to hand.
Harry wasn't fooled. Draco was going to be hard to best. "You'll be kissing the floor in thirty seconds, Malfoy," he challenged.
"Go!" cried Bellaton.
Snarling, Draco lunged at Harry. His attack was so swift that it was all Harry could do to keep him from him. Parry, parry, parry… Draco pressed his attack, forcing Harry backwards.
Get out of this! Harry's brain shouted, and his reflexes finally kicked in. A split second later it was Malfoy who was backing up while Harry moved his staff as fast as possible.
Harry was beginning to tire. If he made it to the final match, he knew he wasn't going to be in top form unless he ended this round quickly. At the moment Draco was pressing his advantage; Harry had only a split second, but he had decided what to do. Just like he had done with Bellaton, Harry pretended to stumble. Draco rushed forward with a cry of triumph. Harry brought his staff streaking upwards and got a shock when it met Draco's with a sharp CLACK. But something else was taking over Harry; he barely knew what he was doing as he felt himself evading certain defeat in a way he never had before. He twisted like a snake, Draco staggered backwards, and Harry swung his staff as hard as he could. It crashed into his opponent's side, bringing him to the floor.
Applause erupted in the Great Hall. Draco stared up at Harry from his back with disbelief on his face. "You've never done that in class before," he said suspiciously.
"It's those Seeker reflexes," Harry said evasively, feeling certain that he'd just performed another of Professor Thornby's moves. He stretched out his hand to help Draco up.
"I'd sooner accept help from a Mudblood," Draco spat, and rose by himself.
"Suit yourself," said Harry, turning away.
"Stop," said Professor Thornby, and they obeyed. "Shake hands."
Harry and Draco turned to face each other. With mutual loathing, they shook and let go as quickly as possible.
"And in the final match we have Harry Potter and Ron Weasley!" said Bellaton.
Harry blinked; he'd forgotten about his friend. A slow smile crept over his face.
"Oh, great," called Fred over the din. "Now we don't know who to root for!"
"You root for your own flesh and blood, you idiot!" shouted Ron, and general laughter followed. "Well, this ought to be fun," he said in a quieter voice. "If you do whatever you did to Malfoy I won't last ten seconds."
"Don't bet on it," Harry said softly. "I'm not sure what I did."
Ron grinned at him. "Good luck."
"You too."
They faced off. Silence fell on the Great Hall as Bellaton raised his arm.
"Go!"
Harry and Ron moved forward, wrists moving as fast as possible. Ron was good – very good. He was at least as fast as Draco had been. Even though his brain felt like it was overloading, Harry had the fleeting idea that all that Keeper training was probably benefiting Ron here.
Back and forth they went. Harry watched Ron carefully for an opening; it was a long time before he saw one, and the moment he did, he pounced.
The next thing Harry knew he was lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He felt strangely disoriented. The sound of very loud cheering filled his ears.
"Harry? Are you all right?"
He blinked. Professor Thornby was bending over him.
"Yes." Harry sat up and little explosions went off in his head. "Ow," he said, rubbing his scalp. He looked up to see Ron standing a few feet away with one hand over his mouth. He thought for a moment about the last thing he remembered. "Ron… did you feint?" he said.
"I didn't think it would work!" Ron exclaimed. "Are you okay?"
"Ugh," said Harry, rubbing his head. "Did you hit me twice? What happened to the shield?"
"You hit the floor. Sorry." Ron stretched out his hand, and Harry took it.
"Good job, mate." Harry squeezed his friend's hand.
"Thanks," said Ron. He grinned around at the cheering Gryffindors. Fred, George, and Ginny were going absolutely wild. Hermione was clapping her hands and bouncing up and down.
Professor Thornby took Harry's arm and led him over to Madam Pomfrey while Ron savored his victory. The matron gave Harry two aspirin and a glass of water, and through the uproar Harry was certain that he heard her mutter the words "barbaric" and "dark ages" more than once.
Harry spent the rest of the night sitting on the bench, but plenty of people came up to congratulate him. He was actually getting tired of saying "thank you" by the time the contest ended, but Ron was clearly enjoying every moment of the spotlight.
Angelina Johnson finally trounced a seventh year Ravenclaw to become the night's final victor. The staff applauded, the students cheered, and congratulations were passed all around. By now Harry had retreated to a dark, relatively quiet corner. His head was still throbbing a bit, so he waited while the students and staff exited en masse. It was there that Ron, Hermione, and Neville found him.
"Feeling all right?" said Hermione, leaning forward to peer at Harry's head. "Ooh, you're getting a lump."
"It'll go away," said Harry.
"Gee, I'm really sorry," said Ron.
Harry smiled up at him. "Not sorry enough for a rematch, though," he said.
"Yeah, you're right. I won fair and square."
They waited there, talking softly while the last of the students and staff left. Neville was bemoaning his bad luck; he had been matched with Draco during the very first round. Even though he had put up a good fight, he wasn't as fast as Draco.
"I think I could have gone a lot farther if I hadn't had to fight Malfoy right away," Neville sighed.
"Of course you could have," Hermione said stoutly. "You're in the top group in the Dueling Club."
"With the three of you," said Neville with a smile.
"And Malfoy. He was really good," Harry admitted.
"I'm just glad I didn't have to fight him," said Ron.
"Hem, hem."
They all froze. Harry looked across the room to see that everyone had left except for Dolores Umbridge and Professor Thornby. His guardian was looking at the Ministry official in surprise, interrupted in her task of restoring the House tables to their places.
"Can I help you?" she said.
"What have you been teaching him?" hissed Umbridge.
"I beg your pardon?" said Professor Thornby, sounding genuinely confused.
Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville pulled back into the shadows. This sounded interesting.
"The Potter boy shows exceptional promise with weapons," said Umbridge. "I find it difficult to believe that after less than a year of training he should be so skilled." She took a step forward, her eyes glinting. "You have been giving him private lessons at Hogwarts, have you not?"
"No, I have not," said Professor Thornby. "He is in the most advanced group, so he has progressed beyond most of the student body. But surely you've noticed that he isn't the only student with talent? You do the others a disservice, especially Ronald Weasley." She made no effort to disguise the contempt in her voice.
"True, there are others. Yet Potter nearly won the contest."
"Among other fifth years."
"I am beginning to think that he could defeat the best of the seventh years."
"And I am beginning to think that you'll believe whatever you like no matter what I say."
Ron silently gave the air a little punch of approval.
Umbridge stepped even closer to Professor Thornby, a hungry smile on her lips. Professor Thornby stared down at her from her much greater height, arms crossed, looking at Umbridge as if she were a bug that she might decide to step on at any moment. "You are treading on dangerous ground," said Umbridge softly. "If you were wise, you wouldn't wish to make an enemy of me. I intend to find out exactly what you are doing at this school."
"I will enjoy the spectacle," said Professor Thornby dryly.
Umbridge curled her lip one last time and waddled from the room. Professor Thornby remained absolutely motionless, and when Umbridge had gone, she turned her head and shot a frosty stare right at the hidden Gryffindors. Harry knew that she couldn't see them in the shadows, but of course she knew exactly where he was.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville waited until Professor Thornby had departed before venturing out into the hallway. "Wow," breathed Neville. "How did she know we were there?"
"She's, er, pretty observant," said Ron.
"I wish she'd just fillet Umbridge now and get it over with," Hermione said bitterly. The others gaped at her.
"Has all this fighting gone to your head or something?" said Neville.
Harry was thinking about something he had heard. "I think it's time we found out exactly what Umbridge is doing here," he said.
"She leaves in the morning," said Hermione. "I don't think you're going to learn anything more than you already know, at least not right now."
"She's spying on you and Dumbledore, Harry," said Neville with a shrug. "Everyone knows that."
"Yes, exactly," Harry murmured. "Everyone knows that." And that's exactly why there's something else going on here, he thought.
They headed back to Gryffindor Tower. Ron, Hermione, and Neville chatted animatedly the whole way, but Harry pondered as he walked, chewing on the threat Umbridge had made to Professor Thornby. He knew it was ironic, but Harry had begun to feel strangely protective of the woman who was supposed to be his guardian. Maybe it was because of Lupin; he didn't know much about love himself, but he strongly suspected that if anything happened to Professor Thornby, Lupin would be crushed. Harry wasn't sure why Umbridge had singled her out, but he was determined not to let her succeed in whatever nefarious plan she was concocting. It wasn't just for Lupin's sake, though. Professor Thornby was a friend, and Harry wasn't the type to stand by while his friends were in trouble.
Better watch yourself, Umbridge, he thought. You're meddling with the wrong people.