The other night I dreamed the Fred and George took my right kidney. For some reason the incision went from my right shoulder to my left hip. And then I was playing an edition of Kingdom Hearts that does not exist. And then I was in Kingdom Hearts and I had to be careful not to rip open the stiches from my kidney removal. I woke up and I'm having pains vaguely in the vicinity of my right kidney. It's probably just a normal pain from sleeping in an odd position, which I often do, but just in case, be on the lookout for kidney stealing wizards.
Bree was lounging in an elaborate throne in the Room of Requirement, her legs were thrown over one of the arms her back leaning against the other. The day before she had sent the house elves a fruit basket and an apology stating that Hermione's actions did not reflect the feelings of the rest of Gryffindor. The house elves made the fruit basket into a fruit salad which Bree was enjoying when Ben walked in.
He took one look at what Bree was sitting on and sighed. It seemed that Bree had an ego just as big as her Aunt's if the throne was any indication. Fortunately he was well versed in ignoring the eccentricities of his employer.
"Hey Ben!" Bree exclaimed. "What's the news from the home front?"
"Reports from ministry insiders show that Volemort and his lackeys are trying to obtain something from the Department of Mysteries. Reports from the men we have watching the Order of the Phoenix indicate that they are aware of the Death Eaters' actions and it is speculated that they may know what the Death Eaters are after." Ben told her.
"We need an insider in the Order." Bree stated.
"Yes, your Aunt already suggested as much, but the current members of the Order are all loyal to Dumbledore and it would be difficult to get someone who wasn't previously in the order, or at least related to someone in the order, into the old man's circle of trust in the timeframe we need." Ben explained.
Bree snorted in distain. "All you have to do is get Sirius on our side."
Ben looked incredulous. "And how do you suppose we do that?"
"Emotional manipulation." Bree stated, grinning. "He loves Harry. Just tell him all the danger Harry has been in under Dumbledore's watch, exaggerate a little, be sure to mention the Dursley's, bring up the years spent in Azakaban, and you should, at the very least, manage to undermine his faith in Dumbledore ."
Ben didn't mention this, but Lisa had already come up with basically the same idea. Presenting the dilemma to Bree had just been a test.
"I'll make sure to tell you Aunt and Uncle." He said.
Line line line
Bree removed History of Magic from her school's curriculum, not that Binns even noticed when she stopped showing up. Reading textbooks was way more interesting then listening to the ghost drone on and on, plus it freed up more time for defense.
Currently, Ben was quizzing Bree on the different ways to fight dangerous creatures as Bree tried to hit moving targets with spells.
"Wendigo."
"Fire"
"Arachnes"
"Beheading."
"Fairies."
"Iron and silver."
"Wraith."
"Silver."
"Changeling."
"Fire."
"Demon."
"Salt, Holy Water, exorcism, uh… Devil's Trap, and uh… that Holy wood stuff."
"It's called Palo Santo. Rugarus."
And so it continued that way for the rest of the lesson.
The next day Bree went up to the boys dorms and took Harry's cloak. She put it on and walked around until she found Draco. She came up behind him and whispered in his ear "Seven Days." Draco jumped and whirled around to see what was behind him. Of course he didn't see anything. He paled and ran.
Bree giggled as she walked back to the common room which caused her to be caught by McGonagall who made her write lines.
218. Not allowed to steal Harry's invisibility cloak and whisper "Seven Days" to Draco.
The next day Bree did the same thing only she whispered "Six Days" to Draco who went running to Snape. Snape found Bree laughing under the cloak. He stared at her for a moment before taking a swig from a flask he was carrying and turning her over to McGonagall.
- not allowed to whisper anything to Draco.
During the fourth meeting of the D.A. Hermione gave out fake Galleons.
"You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?" Hermione said, holding one up for examination The coin gleamed fat and yellow in the light from the torches. "On real Galleons that's just a serial number referring to the goblin who cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocket you'll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meeting he'll change the numbers on his coin, and because I've put a Protean Charm on them, they'll all change to mimic his."
A blank silence greeted Hermione's words. She looked around at all the faces upturned to her, rather disconcerted.
"Well - I thought it was a good idea," she said uncertainly, "I mean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there's nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But… well, if you don't want to use them -"
"You can do a Protean Charm?" said Terry Boot.
"Yes," said Hermione.
"But that's… that's NEWT standard, that is," he said weakly.
"Oh," said Hermione, trying to look modest. "Oh… well… yes, I suppose it is."
Snape had taken to carrying a flask of liquor around with him everywhere he went. Not that anyone actually knew what was in it. Whenever the potions professor saw Bree he would take a sip from the flask, two if she was grinning.
There was at least one benefit of Snape's new alcoholic tendencies. He was actually a better teacher. He actually instructed instead of just writing things and the chalkboard, when someone made a mistake he didn't completely humiliate them, and when Harry made a mistake Snape didn't vanish potion and give Harry a zero for the day.
D.A. meetings were put on hold as the first game of the Quidditch season approached. It was Gryffindor versus Slytherin and Angelina insisted on almost daily practices. Professor McGonagall cared a lot about beating Slytherin and proved it when she abstained from giving them homework in the week leading up to the match.
Snape was no less obviously partisan; he had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors had difficulty getting on it to play. He was also turning a deaf ear to the many reports of Slytherin attempts to hex Gryffindor players in the corridors. When Alicia Spinnet turned up in the hospital wing with her eyebrows growing so thick and fast they obscured her vision and obstructed her mouth, Snape insisted that she must have attempted a Hair-thickening Charm on herself and refused to listen to the fourteen eye-witnesses who insisted they had seen the Slytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, hit her from behind with a jinx while she worked in the library.
As October shifted to November the temperature dropped. Bree switched out her fishnet tights for wool ones with skulls on them, her fingerless fishnet gloves became fingerless wool gloves that disappeared beneath the now three quarter length sleeves of her shirt. She added a Gryffindor scarf and heavy cloak to the outfit and the rest of her clothing all had a liberal amount of warming charms on them. The warming charms made all the difference and allowed the California born blond move through the castle in comfort while everyone else practically froze to death.
The morning of the Quidditch match was bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of exited chatter in anticipation of the day's game. The Slytherins were all wearing silver badges shaped like crowns with the words "Weasley is our King" printed on them in addition to their usual winter gear and there was an increase in noise when Harry and Ron walked by. In the commotion the mail came without much notice, which was to Bree's benefit because Alice had sent her a sack of galleons, part of the profit from the "Infinite Money Glitch." Bree went back to her dorm and put the sack under her bed before going to the game.
Luna had somehow gotten a large hat that looked like life size lion's head that would let out a loudly realistic roar. Naturally no one in the stands wanted to sit near Luna for fear of hearing loss. Bree activated her partial animagus transformation, changing only her eyes because she found it was much easier to track movement that way.
The game started and so did Lee's commentary.
"And it's Johnson - Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me -"
JORDAN!" yelled Professor McGonagall.
"- just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest - and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's — ouch - been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe… Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and - nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse-passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away - dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger - close call, Alicia - and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"
And as Lee paused to listen, the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:
"Weasley cannot save a thing, He cannot block a single ring, That's why Slytherins all sing: Weasley is our King."
"Weasley was born in a bin He always lets the Quaffle in Weasley will make sure we win Weasley is our King."
"—and Alicia passes back to Angelina!" Lee shouted, trying to drown out the singing. Bree got up and left the Gryffindor section of the stands. She walked underneath the seats. Lee's voice till loud and clear.
"- and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead -"
A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands:
"Weasley cannot save a thing, He cannot block a single ring…"
"- so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley, brother of Beaters Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team -come on, Ron!"
But the scream of delight came from the Slytherins' end. Ron had missed.
"Slytherin score!" came Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below, "so that's ten-nil to Slytherin - bad luck, Ron."
The Slytherins sang even louder:
"WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN, HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN…"
Bree was angry. The claws were out, literally. She had taken her transformation as far as it could go. She arrived at her destination, the teacher's box. She found Snape sitting by himself in the topmost part of the stands.
"Snape." Bree called from beneath the stands. The potions professor stiffened up.
"Snape." She called again. The man looked down into the shadows and saw only blue catlike eyes and an eerie grin with pointed canine teeth.
"Do something about your students or I will." She hissed before vanishing into the shadows. Snape took a sip from his flask before heading to the Slytherin stands. The singing soon stopped and Bree returned to her seat. In the final moments of the game Harry and Draco were diving for the snitch. Feet from the ground Harry reached out and grabbed the snitch seconds before Malfoy could.
Harry pulled his broom upwards, holding the struggling ball in his hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval. Crabbe, who was now one of the new Slytherin beaters, got angry and hit a bludger at Harry that slammed into his back, knocking him off the broom.
Luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground, having dived so low to catch the Snitch, but he was winded all the same as he landed flat on his back on the frozen pitch. Madam Hooch's shrill whistle joined the sounds of the uproar in the stands compounded of catcalls, angry yells and jeering.
Bree quickly went down to the pitch. By the time she made it down from the stands Harry was holding back George and Angelina, Alicia and Katie were keeping Fred from leaping on Malfoy, who was laughing openly. Madam Hooch was still berating Crabbe for his illegal bludger attack.
"Or perhaps," said Malfoy, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasleys pigsty reminds you of it —"
Harry let go of George and they were both sprinting towards Malfoy. Harry landed the first hit and from there he and George proceeded to pummel Malfoy with all of their might.
The air was filled with the sound voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing and the bellowing of the crowd. Somebody in the vicinity yelled "Impedimenta!" and Harry was knocked over backwards by the force of the spell.
"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry leapt to his feet. It seemed to have been her who had hit him with the Impediment Jinx; she was holding her whistle in one hand and a wand in the other; her broom lay abandoned several feet away. Malfoy was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three Chasers, and Crabbe was cackling in the background. "I've never seen behavior like it - back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now."
Harry and George turned on their heels and marched off the pitch, both panting, neither saying a word to the other. Snape walked onto the field and helped Malfoy to his feet. Bree made a mental note to have a chat with Malfoy.
In the common room that evening the Gryffindor Quidditch team received some very bad news. Fred, George, and Harry had all received lifetime bans from Umbridge. In the past this wouldn't have been possible but Educational Decree Number Twenty-five allowed gave the High Inquisitor the power to strip pupils of privileges.
"Banned," said Angelina in a hollow voice. "Banned. No Seeker and no Beaters… what on earth are we going to do?"
"It's just so unfair," said Alicia numbly. "I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?"
"No," said Ginny miserably; she and Hermione were sitting on either side of Harry. "He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner."
"And banning Fred when he didn't even do anything!" said Alicia furiously, pummeling her knee with her fist.
"It's not my fault I didn't," said Fred, with a very ugly look on his face, "I would've pounded the little scumbag to a pulp if you three hadn't been holding me back."
Harry stared miserably at the dark window. Snow was falling. The Snitch he had caught earlier was now zooming around and around the common room; people were watching its progress as though hypnotized and Crookshanks and Muffin were leaping from chair to chair, trying to catch it. Bree was sitting silently, plotting.
"I'm going to bed," said Angelina, getting slowly to her feet. "Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream… maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find we haven't played yet…"
She was soon followed by Alicia and Katie. Fred and George sloped off to bed some time later, glowering at everyone they passed, and Ginny went not long after that. And Bree, having finally come up with a plan went up to the dorm a few minutes later.
Bree's knee jerk reaction to the ban had been to have Umbridge killed. After calming down a bit she decided against this course of action, while it would be possible to have Umbridge killed, espeacilly in you consider that one's of her Uncle's men was already in Hogwarts, that would be rather boring and rather troublesome due to the inevitable investigation. No it would be easier, and more entertaining, to make Umbridge as miserable as possible.
Rita had been behaving herself, time to cut her some slack and let her rip people apart with the half-truths and assumptions like she used to do, so long as she stuck to the targets that Bree picked. Currently those targets were Umbridge and Fudge.
Of course, Bree was aiming for a two pronged attack. Rita was only the first part of the attack; the second part would be from Hogwarts itself. After Bree settled into bed that night she reached through the bond she had with Hogwarts and put in a request: Please make Umbridge's life as differcult as possible. Hogwarts agreed, Umbridge was a poor teacher and would still be using blood quills as punishment if it weren't for Bree and Hogwarts did not like anyone that would dare hurt its students.
The next morning there were two feet of snow on the ground and Bree went out with Fred, George, and Lee to have some fun. They started things off by bewitching snowballs to zoom up to Gryffindor Tower and rap hard on the windows where Ron and Harry were studying. Ron lost patience rather quickly. "Oy!" bellowed Ron, sticking his head out of the window, "I am a prefect and if one more snowball hits this window -OUCH!"
Fred had sent a snowball directly into Ron's face. After bewitching snowballs became boring the teamed up for a snowball fight. It was Fred and Lee versus Bree and George. At the end of the fight the warming charms had worn off and her clothes were soaked through, actually everyone's clothes were soaked and they walked shivering but in good spirits back to the castle.
On Monday there was change at the staff table. Umbridge and Grubbly-Plank weren't there and Hagrid was back, but appeared injured.
Hagrid's return garnered mixed reactions from the students. Some, like Fred, George and Lee, roared with delight and sprinted up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables to wring Hagrid's enormous hand; others, like Parvati and Lavender, exchanged gloomy looks and shook their heads.
Umbridge showed up towards the end of breakfast, looking frazzled. Bree knew why. Hogwarts could be difficult to navigate at the best of times, what with its moving staircases, fake doors, hidden passages, and trick stairs, but if the castle was working against you with sticky doors that would slam shut on your heels, stair cases that moved in an effort to make you take the longest route possible, and trick stairs that moved around so that you never knew where they were, well then walking thourgh the school could be a nightmare. Of course Umbridge had no idea that the school was working against her, she thought she was just having a bad day.
Tuesday marked the first lesson Hagrid given all year. Bree expected Umbridge to be there, she wasn't, which really didn't surprise Bree since Hogwarts was conspiring against the toad woman.
"We're workin' in here today!" Hagrid called happily to the approaching students, jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. "Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark."
"What prefers the dark?" Malfoy said sharply to Crabbe and Goyle, a trace of panic in his voice. "What did he say prefers the dark - did you hear?"
"Vampires." Bree hissed as she walked by, laughing when Draco jumped.
"Ready?" said Hagrid cheerfully to the class, half a dead cow slung over his shoulder. "Right, well, I've bin savin' a trip inter the Forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter train 'em."
"And you're sure they're trained, are you?" said Malfoy, the panic in his voice even more pronounced. "Only it wouldn't be the first time you'd brought wild stuff to class, would it?"
The Slytherins murmured agreement and a few Gryffindors looked as though they thought Malfoy had a fair point, too.
"Course they're trained," said Hagrid, scowling and hoisting the dead cow a little higher on his shoulder.
"So what happened to your face, then?" demanded Malfoy.
"Mind yer own business!" said Hagrid, angrily. "Now, if yeh've finished askin' stupid questions, follow me!"
He turned and strode straight into the Forest. Nobody seemed much disposed to follow. Bree lead the way, followed by Ron, Hermione, and Harry. They walked for about ten minutes until they reached a place where the trees stood so closely together that it was as dark as twilight and there was no snow at all on the ground. With a grunt, Hagrid deposited his half a cow on the ground, stepped back and turned to face his class, most of whom were creeping from tree to tree towards him, peering around nervously as though expecting to be set upon at any moment.
"Gather roun', gather roun'," Hagrid encouraged. "Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me."
He turned, shook his shaggy head to get the hair out of his face and gave an odd, shrieking cry that echoed through the dark trees like the call of some monstrous bird. Nobody laughed: most of them looked too scared to make a sound.
Hagrid gave the shrieking cry again. A minute passed in which the class continued to peer nervously over their shoulders and around trees for a first glimpse of whatever it was that was coming. And then, as Hagrid shook his hair back for a third time and expanded his enormous chest. Bree saw something coming through the black space between two gnarled yew trees.
A pair of blank, white, shining eyes was growing larger through the gloom and a moment later the dragonish face, neck and then skeletal body of a great, black, winged horse emerged from the darkness.
It surveyed the class for a few seconds, swishing its long black tail, then bowed its head and began to tear flesh from the dead cow with its pointed fangs.
"Why doesn't Hagrid call again?" Ron whispered.
Most of the rest of the class were wearing expressions as confused and nervously expectant as Ron's and were still gazing everywhere but at the horse standing feet from them. There were only two other people who seemed to be able to see them: a stringy Slytherin boy standing just behind Goyle was watching the horse eating with an expression of great distaste on his face; and Neville, whose eyes were following the swishing progress of the long black tail.
"Oh, an' here comes another one!" said Hagrid proudly, as a second black horse appeared out of the dark trees, folded its leathery wings closer to its body and dipped its head to gorge on the meat. "Now… put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"
Bree raised her hand.
"Didn't think you'd be able ter, Bree," he said seriously. "An' you too, Neville, eh? An' -"
"Excuse me," said Malfoy in a sneering voice, "but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"
For an answer, Hagrid pointed at the cow carcass on the ground. The whole class stared at it for a few seconds, then several people gasped and Parvati squealed. Bree understood why: bits of flesh stripping themselves away from the bones and vanishing into thin air had to look very odd indeed.
"What's doing it?" Parvati demanded in a terrified voice, retreating behind the nearest tree.
"What's eating it?"
"Thestrals," said Hagrid proudly and Hermione gave a soft "Oh!" of comprehension at Harry's shoulder. "Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em in here. Now, who knows -?"
"But they're really, really unlucky!" interrupted Parvati, looking alarmed. "They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. Professor Trelawney told me once -"
"No, no, no," said Hagrid, chuckling, "tha's jus' superstition, that is, they aren' unlucky, they're dead clever an' useful! Course, this lot don' get a lot o' work, it's mainly jus' pullin' the school carriages unless Dumbledore's takin' a long journey an' don' want ter Apparate - an' here's another couple, look -"
Two more horses came quietly out of the trees, one of them passing very close to Parvati, who shivered and pressed herself closer to the tree, saying, "I think I felt something, I think it's near me!"
"Don' worry, it won' hurt yen," said Hagrid patiently. "Righ', now, who can tell me why some o' yeh can see 'em an' some can't?"
Hermione raised her hand.
"Go on then," said Hagrid, beaming at her.
"The only people who can see Thestrals," she said, "are people who have seen death."
"Tha's exactly right," said Hagrid solemnly, "ten points ter Gryffindor. Now, Thestrals -"
"Hem, hem."
Professor Umbridge had arrived. She was standing a few feet away from Harry, wearing her green hat and cloak again, her clipboard at the ready. Hagrid, who had never heard Umbridge's fake cough before, was gazing in some concern at the closest Thestral, evidently under the impression that it had made the sound.
"Hem, hem."
"Oh, hello!" Hagrid said, smiling, having located the source of the noise.
"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?" said Umbridge, in the same loud, slow voice she had used with him earlier, as though she were addressing somebody both foreign and very slow.
"Telling you that I would be inspecting y our lesson?"
"Oh, yeah," said Hagrid brightly. "Glad yeh found the place all righ'! Well, as you can see - or, I dunno - can you? We're doin' Thestrals today -"
"I'm sorry?" said Professor Umbridge loudly, cupping her hand around her ear and frowning. "What did you say?"
Hagrid looked a little confused.
"Er - Thestrals!" he said loudly. "Big - er - winged horses, yeh know!"
He flapped his gigantic arms hopefully. Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows at him and muttered as she made a note on her clipboard: "Has… to… resort… to… crude… sign… language."
"Well… anyway…" said Hagrid, turning back to the class and looking slightly flustered, "erm… what was I sayin'?"
"Appears… to… have… poor… short… term… memory," muttered Umbridge, loudly enough for everyone to hear her. Draco Malfoy looked as though Christmas had come a month early; Hermione, on the other hand, had turned scarlet with suppressed rage.
"Oh, yeah," said Hagrid, throwing an uneasy glance at Umbridge's clipboard, but ploughing on valiantly. "Yeah, I was gonna tell yeh how come we got a herd. Yeah, so, we started off with a male an' five females. This one," he patted the fir st horse to have appeared, "name o' Tenebrus, he's my special favorite, firs' one born here in the Forest -"
"Are you aware," Umbridge said loudly, interrupting him, "that the Ministry of Magic has classified Thestrals as 'dangerous'?"
Hagrid merely chuckled.
"Thestrals aren' dangerous! All righ', they might take a bite outta yeh if yeh really annoy them -"
"Shows… signs… of… pleasure… at… idea… of… violence," muttered Umbridge, scribbling on her clipboard again.
"No - come on!" said Hagrid, looking a little anxious now. "I mean, a dog'll bite if yeh bait it, won' it - but Thestrals have jus' got a bad reputation because o' the death thing - people used ter think they were bad omens, didn' they? Jus' didn' understand, did they?"
Umbridge did not answer; she finished writing her last note, then looked up at Hagrid and said, again very loudly and slowly, "Please continue teaching as usual. I am going to walk," she mimed walking (Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were having silent fits of laughter) "among the students" (she pointed around at individual members of the class) "and ask them questions." She pointed at her mouth to indicate talking.
Bree decided that Rita needed to step up her efforts.
Hagrid stared at her, clearly at a complete loss to understand why she was acting as though he did not understand normal English. Hermione had tears of fury in her eyes now.
"You hag, you evil hag!" she whispered, as Umbridge walked towards Pansy Parkinson. "I know what you're doing, you awful, twisted, vicious -"
"Erm… anyway," said Hagrid, clearly struggling to regain the flow of his lesson, "so - Thestrals. Yeah. Well, there's loads o' good stuff abou' them…"
"Do you find," said Professor Umbridge in a ringing voice to Pansy Parkinson, "that you are able to understand Professor Hagrid when he talks?"
Just like Hermione, Pansy had tears in her eyes, but these were tears of laughter; indeed, her answer was almost incoherent because she was trying to suppress her giggles.
"No… because… well… it sounds… like grunting a lot of the time."
Bree made the decision to do something about Pansy.
Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. The few unbruised bits of Hagrid's face flushed, but he tried to act as though he had not heard Pansy's answer.
"Er… yeah… good stuff abou' Thestrals. Well, once they're tamed, like this lot, yeh'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' sense o' direction, jus' tell 'em where yeh want ter go -"
"Assuming they can understand you, of course," said Malfoy loudly, and Pansy Parkinson collapsed in a fit of renewed giggles.
Professor Umbridge smiled indulgently at them and then turned to Neville.
"You can see the Thestrals, Longbottom, can you?" she said.
Neville nodded.
"Who did you see die?" she asked, her tone indifferent.
"My… my grandad," said Neville.
"And what do you think of them?" she said, waving her stubby hand at the horses, who by now had stripped a great deal of the carcass down to bone.
"Erm," said Neville nervously, with a glance at Hagrid. "Well, they're… er… okay…"
"Students… are… too… intimidated… to… admit… they… are… frightened," muttered Umbridge, making another note on her clipboard.
"No!" said Neville, looking upset. "No, I'm not scared of them!"
"It's quite all right," said Umbridge, patting Neville on the shoulder with what she evidently intended to be an understanding smile, though it looked more like a leer. She walked over to Bree.
"Now then Smith, who did you see die?" she asked.
Bree flinched.
"They're monsters, mistakes. They have to be destroyed."
"There's nothing we can do. The acid's reached his heart."
"Shut up and go away." Bree hissed. Umbridge looked insulted.
"Now see here-" Bree cut her off. "You have no power over me! Now get the hell out of here." She snarled. The toad finally backed off.
"Well, Hagrid," she turned to look up at him again, speaking once more in that loud, slow voice, "I think I've got enough to be getting along with. You will receive" (she mimed taking something from the air in front of her) "the results of your inspection" (she pointed at the clipboard) "in ten days' time." She held up ten stubby little fingers, then, her smile wider and more toadlike than ever before beneath her green hat, she bustled from their midst, leaving Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson in fits of laughter, Hermione actually shaking with fury, Neville looking confused and upset, and Bree quite certain she was going flashbacks/nightmares that evening. She was right.
