Umbridge loved her dream. But no matter what Filch said in the dream, it wasn't true. Umbridge sat at the foot of her bed, crying.
"It was all so good," she sighed. "But does that mean I like him? Yes, I like him. No, I love him!" she said to herself, laughing from happiness.
She left her room and there was Filch, downstairs, mopping the floor and singing, "Oh, I love Dolores, yes. Oh, I love Dolores, yes. Oh, I love Dolores, yes. OH, I LOVE DOLORES, YES!" to the tune of "Happy Birthday" at the top of his lungs.
"YOU DO?!" Umbridge asked in surprise.
Filch blushed and his face turned the color of a red-hot pepper, but he admitted he did.
"I do, too!" Umbridge shrieked.
Both of the lovebirds tried to say something, but they ended up stammering:
"I-I-I-I-…" Umbridge said.
"You-you-you-you…" Filch said.
"WE LOVE EACH OTHER!" they said at the same time.