The fourth year Slytherins were one of the first classes to have Professor Umbridge - of course, the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had had her before them, but the fifteen minute break between classes was hardly enough time for the shyest students to share their experience with the whole school.
So Hermione found herself going into the class almost blind.
In her time at Hogwarts, Hermione had already had three teachers and all of them had decorated their rooms in a different way. Lockhart had covered the walls in portraits of himself, Lupin always had various cages and tanks full of live beasts for their practicals. Umbridge had taken the blandness that Quirrel had gone for to a new level.
Hermione felt like she'd just walked into an exam as soon as she stepped through the door. There wasn't a single portrait or tapestry on the bare stone walls. The floor was carpeted, barely thickly enough to muffle the sound of their steps. The large desks had been replaced individual ones, spaced too far apart to allow passing of notes or any form of collaboration. Perhaps more tellingly, there was no room what so ever for anything practical. Umbridge's desk was already piled high with parchment and the rest of the space at the front was taken up by two very large blackboards. The woman herself was busy writing with a large, puce quill and didn't even look up as they filed in.
'Back or front?' Theo muttered. Hermione jerked her head towards the back of the room and they made their way over, taking seats in a huddle in the furthest, darkest corner of the room. It seemed that most of the class had the same idea and the front row remained empty, even once the whole class was seated.
When silence fell, Umbridge placed her quill down with exaggerated care and picked up a wand so stubby that it was actually shorter than the quill she'd held before. There was a moment of silence as the ministry witch observed her class; her eyes alighted briefly on Malfoy, then lingered far longer on Hermione before sliding on to Ron Weasley.
'Good afternoon, children!' Umbridge crowed after the silence had lengthened ominously. Several people jumped, a couple mumbled back half heartedly. Hermione and her friends remained resolutely silent.
Umbridge tutted.
'Now that won't do, will it? I would like you to reply, "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge." Let's try that again shall we? Good afternoon, children.'
'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' The class chanted back. A sadistic, delighted smile peeled at Umbridge's lips.
'There we go, that wasn't so hard now, was it? Right, seating. This just won't do.' The stubby wand tapped against one of the empty front desks. 'Miss Gorlois, Mr Potter, Mr Nott, Mr Longbottom, you may all move up here. We wouldn't want you to think you could get away with any extra-curricular activities in my class.'
Every eye in the class snapped to the quartet at the back of the room. Hermione clenched her jaw irritably and jerked her head to signal compliance to the others. They all rose, picking up their books and moved to the seats indicated by Umbridge. Her lips were still stretched wide by that hateful smile, and Hermione already wanted nothing more than to jinx it off her face, and they were only minutes into the first lesson.
Hermione remained mutinously silent as Umbridge outlined the new class aims and any fragile hope that may have outlived the dull speech at the feast the night before was quickly squashed. Now, they were faced with a class where they would almost certainly not be learning anything new, but because of the new seating plan, they wouldn't be able to work on homework either. But, whilst that was annoying for her, she quickly realised that it would be devastating to the others in the school, who actually needed the lessons to pass their exams. Montague had already asked for tutoring at the feast the night before, but considering the ominous foreshadowing of recent events, it would be a failure in her duty to not ensure that every student had the opportunity to learn to defend themselves.
For about five minutes after they began reading the first chapter of the terribly dry book, the students made a genuine effort. Slowly, however, the sighs became louder and more numerous. Twice, she caught her thoughts straying to the fascinating pages of Flamel's notes that she'd been reading during History of Magic. Gentle caresses of Theo's sinuous magic brushed against her own, and she glanced down to see that he'd performed a wandless switching spell on their notes. She arched one impressed eyebrow at him, then glanced down at the page when he jerked his head at it.
It would be entertaining if a wind strong enough to blow over that stack of parchment on her desk suddenly came through the window.
Hermione glanced back at Theo and rolled her eyes.
She'd know it was me. Hermione wrote back, before performing the switching spell on the parchments again.
Not if Weasley has his wand out.
Harry dropped his quill and despite his usual reactions and coordination that came with being a seeker, somehow failed to catch it before it could drift all the way over to Hermione's desk. He dove for it, the sudden movement drawing the attention of the whole class as he reached under Hermione's desk. Umbridge pursed her lips in displeasure, but said nothing.
Don't be mean. Hermione wrote back to Theo, before spelling the note back to his desk. Then, when enough time had passed that Harry's less than subtle delivery methods had been forgotten, she reached down and picked up the scrap of parchment that he'd dropped under her desk when he was picking up his quill.
What are you planning with Theo? You keep looking at him. It's very obvious.
Theo's magic brushed against hers just as Hermione turned over the note from Harry and she glanced at her notes page to see a reply from her fellow Slytherin. She ignored it briefly, replying to Harry instead.
Less obvious than your way of passing notes. Did you get the hang of banishing spells?
She banished the note to Harry's desk, concealed beneath his forgotten copy of Magical Theory, then turned back to Theo's note.
He's got his wand poking out of his sleeve, and it would give us a chance to see what kind of discipline she uses.
The young witch could virtually hear the wheedling tone that Theo was using and she didn't bother to dignify the note with a response, simply switching it back to him without a reply. Her own notes, covered in ogham side notes on alchemy that were just decorative enough to look like doodles, reappeared in front of her.
A moment later, she felt the brush of Theo's magic again.
Fine. I'll do it.
Before she could even pen out a rapid no, Ron's wand began to inch inevitably out of his sleeve. With his concentration fixed on his task, he didn't even notice Hermione's switch of their notes. To her right, Harry put down his quill and snuck his own wand out of his sleeve. Hidden from Theo by Hermione, it was likely that the Slytherin couldn't even see the Boy-Who-Lived, and was entirely unaware...
Unable to say or do anything to stop either boy without alerting Umbridge to both pieces of magic, Hermione could only watch as a gust of wind blew through the room, as if a thestral had just flown overhead and toppled every neat pile of parchment on Umbridge's desk. A fraction of a second later, Harry's banishing spell worked with a pop so faint that it could have been someone's knuckles.
Every eye in the classroom immediately shot up to look at the suddenly chaotic desk. Umbridge looked gobsmacked for a moment, the ruddy colour of her cheeks slowly darkening as she raised furious eyes to the class.
Harry, who had about as much subtlety as an erumpent in an apothecary, hastily stowed his wand back in his sleeve. The hasty movement may as well have been a flag, loudly declaring that he had just performed magic. In the face of such obvious behaviour, unmissable because of his position in the front row, Umbridge completely missed the wand in Ron's sleeve.
'Potter! Detention.' Umbridge crowed in delight. Harry's mouth dropped open, ready to argue in his defence.
'But I didn't do it, Professor!' The Boy-Who-Lived argued predictably. Umbridge drew herself up, piggy little eyes gleaming.
'Your wand was out, Potter. Did I not specifically instruct that wands were to be kept in bags?'
At those words, the rest of the class stirred uncomfortably. The professor had indeed instructed them to put their wands in their bags but since Professor Tunninger's classes, most of them kept their wands in wrist holsters or on wand belts at their waist. Very few had actually interpreted "wands in bags" so literally.
'Yes, but...' Harry argued.
'And for what reason would your wand be out, if not to perform magic?' Umbridge interrupted, gleefully rounding her chaotic desk so that she loomed over Harry. It might have been intimidating if she wasn't wearing a pair of fuzzy velvet heels that matched the dumpy bow in her hair.
Harry's mouth worked for a moment as he tried to decide whether or not to admit to what he had actually been doing, and risk incriminating Hermione too. She wished she had a way to suggest he just claim he was erasing a mistake in his notes, but she daren't risk sending any suggestion with Umbridge looming so close.
'Well yes, but...' Harry tried again.
'So you admit that you did cast a spell, Mr Potter? After I specifically instructed you to put your wand away?' Umbridge tutted. 'Ten points from Gryffindor.'
'But I didn't do anything!' Harry finally managed to get out, as the professor turned to summon a detention slip from the mess on her desk. The witch paused, and Hermione couldn't miss the pleased smile that stretched her face before it was rapidly schooled into severity.
'Didn't do anything? You disobeyed a direct instruction from a teacher, vandalised my desk and now you are arguing in class. Perhaps twenty points would do the trick?'
'I didn't do anything!' Harry shouted. Hermione winced and Professor Umbridge tutted disapprovingly, summoning another slip from her desk and jotting down something.
'Please take this to your head of house, Mr Potter.' Umbridge smiled with false sweetness, passing over the second slip, 'and I'll see you tomorrow evening for detention.'
For a moment, it looked like Harry was going to argue more. Then he met Hermione's eye and she jerked her head meaningfully; Umbridge had it out for them, and he would only make matters worse by continuing to argue where she had all the authority. They needed to retreat, regroup and come up with a plan to tackle her. As Harry snatched the slip and stormed out of the room, Hermione twisted in her seat to glare at Theo, who shrank sheepishly under her gaze.
'Now.' Umbridge straightened her skirt, 'please continue your reading. The will be a test next lesson to make sure it has all sunk in.'
Reluctantly, the class got back to their books.