disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella and her story. Hope you all like it!
Dolores Umbridge
Arabella woke up early the next morning, quickly changed and left the dormitory before anyone else could wake up. She couldn't spend another minute there without losing her temper. She threw herself onto one of the couches in the common room, staring at the fire. She felt as though she had lost a lot of sleep over the last couple days and that didn't seem to be changing any time soon.
She heard some footsteps behind her and turned to see Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas coming down the boys' dormitory.
"Hey, guys, how's your summer?" asked Arabella, giving them a smile.
Seamus promptly ignored her and left through the portrait hole. Dean sighed and gave her a small wave.
"Everything all right with Seamus?" Arabella asked. She didn't want to believe that he's turned her back on her as well.
"He's just… going through some stuff," Dean muttered.
There was an awkward pause leading to Dean leaving the room. Arabella had always liked Seamus. She considered him a good friend. At least with Lavender, she wasn't losing someone she liked or cared about. Seamus was a different story.
By the time Hermione, Harry and Ron joined her, she was in a sullen mood. They all left the common room, heading for some breakfast. Arabella didn't talk much until they reached the Great Hall. A couple of fourth year Ravenclaws took one look at Arabella and Harry and formed a tighter line, afraid that they might attack them. Arabella rolled her eyes and glanced at the staff table, disappointed that Hagrid was still nowhere to be found. None of them knew where he was. They could only hope that he was safe and unharmed.
Just as Arabella began loading some eggs onto her plate, Angelina Johnson marched up to them looking breathless.
"Hi, Angelina," said Harry.
"Hi," Angelina said energetically. "Good summer?" Without waiting for an answer, she said, "Listen, I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."
"Fantastic!" said Arabella, her mood brightening up. She had always liked Angelina. She welcomed Arabella onto the team during her third year. She was a fantastic teammate.
"Yeah, well, we need a new Keeper now Oliver's left. Tryouts are on Friday at six o'clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person'll fit in."
Arabella and Harry both agreed with her. Angelina was pleased with her mission and soon departed. Soon after she left McGonagall began moving around the table, handing out schedules. Arabella frowned at her schedule. She had History of Magic with Binns who usually put her to sleep, double Potions with her mortal enemy, Divinations with Trelawney who will no doubt tell her that she was destined for great suffering, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts with Umbridge, the Ministry professor.
"Look at today!" groaned Ron. "Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted…."
The day dragged on slowly. Binns went on and on about giant wars and Arabella knew that none of it would register in her brain. She managed to do fine in the class by either half-paying attention or simply making things up. Arabella spent most of the lesson playing hangman with Harry and Ron as Hermione kept giving them filthy looks.
"How would it be," Hermione asked coldly as they left the classroom, "if I refused to lend you my notes this year?"
"I've never used your notes, so…" Arabella shrugged, giving her friend a smile.
"Well, we'd," said Ron, pointing at him and Harry, "fail our O.W.L.s. If you want that on your conscience, Hermione…"
"Well, you'd deserve it," Hermione snapped. "You don't even try to listen to him, do you?"
"We do try. We just haven't got your brains or memory or your concentration – you're just cleverer than we are – is it nice to rub it in?"
"Oh, don't give me that rubbish," said Hermione.
"Anyways, it doesn't matter," Arabella said loftily. "It's not like History of Magic matters."
"Arabella!"
"Oh, come on, Hermione, it's true! Who cares which giants fought with each other or the fact the Uraga the Ugly was slain by a vampire or whatever. It's boring and Binns makes it worse."
"History is important, Arabella," Hermione said sternly. "If we do not learn the history of our people, then we are doomed to make their same mistakes. We can certainly learn lot from previous…"
Arabella chuckled as Hermione trailed off, realizing that Arabella was not paying attention. They began to make their way across the damp yard. It was a chilly September morning and Arabella flipped the collar of her robes up. Just as they found a secluded corner under a dripping balcony, someone walked around the corner towards them.
"Hello, Harry!"
Arabella inhaled sharply as Hermione gave her a look out of the corner of her eyes. It was Cho Chang, on her own. This time Arabella was not covered in Stinksap and Cho was still prettier than her. Arabella could feel her face getting hot at the thought. Cho was prettier than her, probably smarter than her and she was a fantastic Quidditch player.
"Hi," said Harry, smiling. "Have a good summer?"
Arabella felt immediately guilty for the way she'd been thinking. Cedric was Cho's boyfriend. How could Arabella believe that Cho liked Harry? How could she believe that Cho wanted Harry to be her boyfriend when the memory of Cedric's death affected her holiday. It affected Arabella's, it affected Harry's and it looked like it affected Cho's as well.
"Oh," said Cho, her eyes shifting, despite the smile on her face. "it was all right, you know…"
"Is that a Tornados badge?" Ron demanded suddenly, pointing at Cho's robes. "You don't support them, do you?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?" asked Ron, his tone full of accusations.
"I've supported them since I was six," Cho said coldly. "Anyway… see you, Harry."
The moment she walked away, Hermione rounded off on Ron with a fuming glare, her lips twisted.
"You are so tactless!"
"What? I only asked her if –"
"Couldn't you tell she wanted to talk to Harry on her own?"
"So? She could've done, I wasn't stopping –"
"Let's go," mumbled Arabella, grabbing Harry's arm and heading back inside the castle.
Ron and Hermione didn't stop bickering. In fact, they kept matching each other's tone, her voices getting louder and louder as they made their way down to Snape's dungeon. At this rate, between Neville's Stinksap and Ron's Quidditch interrogations, Harry will never be able to have a conversation with Cho. But why would she want to talk to him? How could she even talk to him? They both showed up with Cedric's body after the Third Task. She didn't talk to Arabella, but she should hate Harry. How could she be so nice to him? Seamus and Lavender openly hated them, but Cho, Cedric's girlfriend who didn't know that their last goodbye was truly their last, didn't hate Harry. Arabella didn't understand.
The dungeon door creaked open and everyone filed in. Arabella and Harry went to their usual table with Ron and Hermione huffing irritably at each other.
"Settle down," Snape said coldly.
The door closed behind him and everyone sat still. No one was muttering to their neighbour or fidgeting in their seat. Snape's presence was enough to silence an atrium.
"Before we begin today's lesson, I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L. or suffer my… displeasure." He gazed upon Neville for a moment before continuing on, "After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me. I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye."
He rested his eyes on Harry and his lips curled into an unpleasant smile. "But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell, so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students. Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: The Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredient you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method are on the blackboard, you will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half… Start."
Arabella scanned the ingredients quickly and grabbed what she need. It was not an easy potion. The temperature had to be set just right before adding the precise amount of ingredients. The blend of the potion had to be in the exact amounts or else the potion would become useless or deadly. Arabella pulled her hair back and did her best to follow the instructions. She kept looking up at the blackboard every so often to make sure she was on the right path. She always felt as though she would like potions, if it wasn't for the fact that her professor was Snape of all people. It was an interesting subject and she always did well in exams, but Snape made class insufferable with him picking on so many of the Gryffindors.
Once she added the powdered moonstone and lowered the temperature, she was pleased to see it turn a bright orange. She let out a sigh of relief, realizing that she was almost done. She added more powered porcupine quills and stirred it, waiting for the potion to turn white. As she stirred and waited, she looked around the table. Ron's potion was spitting green sparks, Hermione was practically done, and dark grey steam was coming out of Harry's cauldron.
"Harry, did you add the powered moonstone?" Arabella whispered.
"No talking, Black," snapped Snape, suddenly appearing beside her. "Focus on your own cauldron. You may not help your boyfriend."
The Slytherins at the front of the class all sniggered and looked up eagerly. Snape enjoyed taunting Arabella and Harry, and the Slytherins enjoyed watching it. Arabella pursed her lips tightly as her cheeks turned red. Oh, what she would do to curse Snape and get away with it… How could a teacher discourage students from helping each other? He was an arrogant, unbearable, greasy slime ball. Every year she prays for Dumbledore to fire him and every year her prayers are ignored. Snape peered down at her cauldron and said nothing. He merely hummed and swept away. Arabella stared at her potion and smiled. There was nothing wrong with her potion and he knew it.
The class period went on slowly with Snape breathing down on various students, making them nervous. Arabella worked on her potion slowly and kept looking over her shoulder, making sure that Snape was nowhere near her. Slowly and carefully, she pushed the small blue vial of hellebore towards Harry. But he was so busy trying to figure out what was wrong with his potion that he wasn't paying attention to Arabella. She lightly tapped her fingers against the wood, tried to nudge him and even tried coughing loudly, but nothing worked.
"Harry," Arabella hissed lowly, "you need to add –"
"I said no talking, Black," Snape said dangerously low.
The hairs on the back on Arabella's neck stood up and she didn't dare turn around. Snape swept around the table, looking at Ron's green potion, Hermione's cauldron with silver mist, and then Harry's cauldron with grey steam. His looked down at Harry and smirked.
"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"
"The Draught of Peace," Harry said tensely.
"Tell me, Potter, can you read?"
Arabella snapped her neck towards the front of the classroom. She could hear Malfoy laughing with his cronies.
"Yes, I can," said Harry, struggling to keep his voice under control.
"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter."
Harry squinted at the blackboard and said, "'Add powered moonstone, stir three times counter clockwise, all to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.'"
Realization dawned upon his face. Arabella winched, wishing that there was more she could do to salvage his potion.
"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"
"No," mumbled Harry.
"I beg your pardon."
"No. I forgot the hellebore…"
"I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Perhaps you should listen to Black the next time you decide to waste my time instead of paying attention. Evanesco."
Arabella's eyes widened. She clenched her jaws and her fists. He had snapped at her twice to shut up and not help other students, but then he goes around and does this? Arabella began raising her wooden spoon in the air, but Ron quickly grabbed her wrist and shook his head frantically.
Snape, however, witnessed this altercation and smirked, pleased to see that he could still push Arabella's buttons after all these years. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Black, and drop your spoon before you hurt someone." He then addressed the class. "Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing. Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."
"Should have just let me wacked him," Arabella spat at Ron, slamming the spoon on the table.
She didn't hear what Ron said to her. Her ears with ringing. She carelessly poured some of her potion into a flagon, scribbled her name, practically threw it on Snape's desk and left the dungeon. Rain kept splashing against the windows and she could hear thunder in the distance. As she made her way to the Great Hall, she could feel her heart beating faster than normal. Snape was infuriating and pathetic. She doesn't understand why Dumbledore would keep him around. Surely students must have complained about him since he started as a new professor. The man had no redeeming qualities, for Merlin's sake!
"Ignore him," Hermione said tactfully as she and Ron tried to keep up with Arabella's strides. "He just wants to get a rise out of you."
"Mission accomplished," growled Arabella. "Whatever. Just – just go on without me. I've lost my appetite."
"Arabella –"
"Just leave me alone," Arabella lashed out. She felt her neck stiffen as she walked the opposite direction. She loosened her tie and just kept moving, wanting to be far away from Hermione and Ron.
Students who were making their way towards the Great Hall stared at her, whispering and pointing. She could feel her anger getting worse and worse by the moment. Why couldn't they all just look away? She wanted to scream at them to piss off.
"She's the one who came back with Cedric –"
" – I heard she was waiting for them in the maze –"
" – well, I heard she gave the final blow –"
" – I heard she made Potter do it –"
Arabella rounded off on a younger student. He cowered for a moment, his back against the wall as he looked up at Arabella.
"Say that again," Arabella hissed. "Say it again, kid."
"I – I – I –"
"I – I – I – I what?" mocked Arabella. "You what – you what – come on what is it?"
People stopped walking and stared at the commotion. Arabella knew how this looked. Her, red in the face and furious, bearing down on a second year student. Her eyes flickered from the boy's face to the crest on his robes. He was a Hufflepuff. He was in Cedric's house. Somehow, that made her more furious. Do the Hufflepuffs believe that she killed Cedric? Do they think that she made Harry do it?
"I just – I –" spluttered the boy, moving close towards the wall, as though trying to disappear into it. "I – I heard – it was – I just heard it –"
"That's a lie!" snarled Arabella. "How could – what, you go around believing vicious lies without even thinking? You just spread rumors like that without a second thought? You don't think?"
"No – no one – no one was there," whimpered the boy. "No one was there – when – when Cedric – Cedric died."
Arabella inhaled sharply and felt her body stiffen. She made a jump towards him but was held back by someone. In fact, she was held back by two people who looked very much alike.
"All right then, show's over," Fred called to the crowd. "You've all gotten your fun for the day, but our little actress here needs her beauty sleep."
"Don't you lot have classes to get to?" shouted George. "Go on, shoo-shoo."
Fred and George did everything they could to disperse the crowd. They pushed, they shoved, the threatened with their wands and they threatened to force feed certain individuals Nosebleed Nougat, which they haven't developed an antidote for yet. Arabella kept glaring at the kid, even as the crowd thinned out and all that was left in the corridor was the two of them and the twins.
"Ease up, Arabella," commented George. "You'll scare the ghosts at this point."
"What's your name, kid?" Fred asked the boy.
"Al – Alfred."
"Got a last name?"
"Clemens."
"Now, Alfred Clemens," said Fred, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow, "don't you have class right about now?"
The boy made a noise Arabella couldn't place as yes or no. He merely stared at Fred and George.
"Look here, Alfred," said George, friendlier than his twin, "everything's going to be fine. Look, she's not yelling anymore, is she?" He jabbed his thumb towards Arabella. "And she won't yell at you as long as you don't gossip about her. How would you like it if someone did that to you?"
Alfred Clemens looked confused and glanced around at the corridor, hoping that someone would come and save him.
"Just keep your fat trap shut," snapped Arabella, "and we won't have a problem, got it?"
"Arabella," mumbled George, but she didn't hear the rest of it.
She quickly made her way down the corridor and towards the marble staircase. As she was walked away, she could hear Fred and George talking to the kid, as though trying to calm him down. How could they do that to a stranger who accused her of murder? They were her friends, not his. Anger was still flaring up in her chest as she made her way towards the North Tower. She was surprised to see that Harry was already there, sitting underneath Trelawney's trapdoor.
"You okay?" mumbled Harry, his body stretched out against the wall.
"Peachy," Arabella said shortly, dropping her bag on the ground. "You?"
"Had enough of Ron and Hermione arguing. I can't stand it anymore."
"Can't stand half the people in this school," muttered Arabella, pacing in front of him. "Nobody knows when to shut up and just…"
Her voice died out and her throat began closing. Tears began to well up in her eyes and she quickly wiped them away, feeling exhausted with Hogwarts and all its students. Harry had the decency to look away and pretend to not see her tears. She appreciated that. She didn't want to explain them. She didn't know how much more she could take. She hoped that this was all a bad dream and that she would wake up tomorrow and everything was going to be fine. Seamus would be her friend again, Lavender would go back to ignoring her like she used to, and people would not accuse her of murdering Cedric Diggory.
People began to appear in the tower, waiting for the silver ladder to appear. Arabella and Harry sat in the corner, waiting for everyone to climb the ladder first. Seamus kept throwing them dirty glances while Neville stood by Arabella. Lavender and Parvati were the last to appear. Lavender threw Arabella a dark glare.
"Yelling at little boys, Arabella?" spat Lavender as Parvati climbed the silver ladder. "Can't pick on someone your own size so you go for a little kid? Just you wait, there's a cell in Azkaban for the likes of you."
Arabella moved forward, but Harry and Neville grabbed her arms. The whole day was a complete mess. Snape, Alfred, Lavender… She needed to curse someone, and Lavender was the perfect person.
"She's a nutter," Lavender told Neville. "Complete nutter."
"Stay away from me!"
Lavender disappeared through the trapdoor and Arabella stood there for a moment, wondering if she really needed to go to class. She could just go to the hospital wing and get a proper nap.
"Remus would kill us," mumbled Harry as Neville made his way up the ladder. Arabella glanced over at him as he shrugged and said, "Skipping. It's our first day. I'm sure Remus and Sirius would kill us both."
"Not worried about them," Arabella whispered. "I can handle them."
"McGonagall would kill us."
Arabella blew and said, "I am worried about her."
"Couple more hours and we're done," offered Harry.
"Not soon enough."
Harry climbed up the ladder first with Arabella right behind her. She made her way around the tables, chairs and overstuffed poufs. She smiled wickedly as she swung her bag and hit the back of Lavender's head.
"Ow!"
"Sorry," Arabella threw over her shoulder, smirking. "It was an accident."
She didn't get to curse Lavender, but it did make her feel slightly better. Arabella took a seat next to Harry and glanced over. Lavender was glaring at her and rubbing the back of her head.
Within five minutes, Ron emerged from the trapdoor, looked around the room and made his way towards Arabella and Harry.
"Hermione and me have stopped arguing," Ron told Harry, taking a seat.
"Good," grunted Harry.
"But Hermione says she thinks it would be nice if you stopped taking out your temper on us."
"I'm not –"
"I'm just passing on the message. But I reckon she's right. It's not our fault how Seamus and Snape treat you."
"I never said it –"
"Good day," said a misty, dreamy voice. Trelawney was sitting in her armchair, her eyes glossing over them. "And welcome back to Divination. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and am delighted to see that you have all returned to Hogwarts safely – as, of course, I knew you would. You will find on the tables before you copies of The Dream Oracle, by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and one that may very probably be tested in your O.W.L. Not, of course, that I believe examination passes or failure are of the remotest importance when it comes to the sacred art of divination. If you gave the Seeing Eye, certificates and grade matter very little. However, the headmaster likes you to sit the examination, so…"
Arabella rolled her eyes. Of course, Trelawney would believe that her subject was able examination.
"Turn, please, to the introduction and read what Imago had to say on the matter of dream interpretation. Then divide into pairs. Use The Dream Oracle to interpret each other's most recent dreams. Carry on."
Arabella paired up with Neville, who immediately began a long tail of his nightmare involving a pair of giant scissors wearing his grandmother's best hat. She stared at him as he went into vivid detail, unsure of what to do exactly, but glad that she didn't have to share one of her dreams. She did not need anyone telling her what her dreams meant.
"So, what do you think it means?" Neville asked suddenly, snapping her out of her daze.
Arabella gapped at him. "Um… probably something to do with you being in danger of your grandmother's wardrobe."
She began flipped through the pages of The Dream Oracle. It was completely dully work and Arabella was not pleased to hear that they all had to keep a dream diary for a month as homework.
"D'you realize how much homework we've got already?" grumbled Ron as they left the North Tower. "Binns set us a foot-and-a-half-long essay on giant wars, Snape wants a foot on the use of moonstones, and now we've got a month's dream diary from Trelawney! That Umbridge woman had better not give us any…"
Umbridge was already seated at the teacher's desk when they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She was wear the same fluffy pink cardigan as the night before with a black velvet bow on her head. Everyone was quiet as they entered the room. Arabella sat next to Harry with Hermione and Ron on her right. They all exchanged uneasy looks.
"Well, good afternoon!" said Umbridge once everyone sat down.
"Good afternoon," mumbled a few people.
"Tut, tut. That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply, 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
Arabella raised an eyebrow as she chanted, "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," with the class.
"There, now," Umbridge said sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
As everyone took out their quills and stuffed their wands into the bags, Umbridge got out her own short wand and tapped the blackboard with it. Arabella did not like the words that began to appear on the board.
Defense Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it? The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structed, theory-centered, Ministry approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."
She rapped the blackboard again. The first message vanished and was replaced by:
Course aims:
1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic
2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use
For a couple minutes, everyone in the room copied the course aims. Once they were done, Umbridge instructed them to turn to page five and read the first chapter. Arabella was slightly taken back by the title of the chapter: Basic for Beginners. As far as she was concerned, none of them in the classroom were beginners. They were in their fifth year, about to take their O.W.L.s and she was treating them as though they were adolescent first years. She then flipped to the table of content. Common Defensive Theories and their Derivation… Non-Retaliation and Negotiation… The Case for Non-Offensive Responses to Magical Attack… Everything in here was theory based, nothing was aimed at teaching them defensive spells, which was the whole point of the subject. Arabella looked up, wondering if anyone else had caught that as well. Harry hardly seemed focused on his chapter, Ron was turning his quill over and over again in his hand, but Hermione… Arabella smiled. Hermione didn't even open her book and her hand was in the air.
Arabella nudged Harry and nodded over to Hermione. Hermione had never disregarded an order from a teacher to read a chapter before. They had never even seen her resist the opportunity to open a book. She merely stared at Umbridge, who looked in the other direction decisively. After a couple minutes, everyone took notice. What was going on in front of them was definitely more exciting than Basic for Beginners. After a while, Umbridge realized that she could no longer ignore Hermione, especially with the whole class staring at her.
"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" Umbridge asked, looking as though she had only just noticed Hermione.
"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.
Umbridge raised her eyebrows and said, "And your names is –?"
"Hermione Granger."
"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them though carefully."
"Well, I don't," Hermione said freely. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."
"Using defensive spells?" repeated Umbridge, letting out a small laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
"We're not going to use magic?" Ron exclaimed loudly.
"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. –?"
"Weasley," said Ron, shooting his hand in the air.
Umbridge's smile widened as she turned her back on him. Hermione, Arabella and Harry raised their hands in the air as well. Umbridge's eyes lingered on Harry for a brief moment before she addressed Arabella.
"Yes, Miss Black?"
"Isn't the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells? Are you saying you don't know any?"
"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Black?"
"No and I doubt you are either –"
"Students in my class will be respectful, Miss Black," Umbridge said shortly, "and you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way –"
"What use is that?" Harry said loudly. "If we're going to be attacked it won't be in a –"
"Hand, Mr. Potter!" sang Umbridge.
Harry thrust his hand in the air, but Umbridge ignored him and turned away. Several other students now had their hand in the air as well.
"And your name is?" Umbridge said in a false sweet voice.
"Dean Thomas."
"Well, Mr. Thomas?"
"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free –"
"I repeat," said Umbridge, smiling, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"
"No, but –"
Umbridge walked over to him, her smile stretching, and said, "I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed – not to mention," she gave a nasty laugh and said, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."
Arabella jumped up, the table and chair scratching on the floor. She glared at Umbridge and claimed, "If you are talking about Remus Lupin, then I suggest you choose your words very carefully –"
"Hand, Miss Black! As I was saying – you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day –"
"No, we haven't," said Hermione, "we just –"
"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"
Hermione put her hand up.
Umbridge turned away from her and continued. "It is my understand that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you –"
"The man was Barty Crouch Jr.!" snapped Arabella, her hands clenched on her sides. "What do you expect?"
"Sit down, Miss Black!"
"He was a maniac!" Dean said hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads –"
"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" shrilled Umbridge. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?"
"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurses and things?"
"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions."
"Without ever practicing them before?" Parvati said disbelievingly. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"
"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough –"
"What good is theory without practice?" exclaimed Arabella.
"I said sit down, Miss Black! If you read the book thoroughly, you will be more than prepared for your exam –"
"What about the real world?" Harry said loudly, his clenched fist in the air.
Umbridge looked up at him and said, softly, "This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world."
"So, we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"
"There's nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."
"Oh, yeah?" said Harry. Arabella could hear the anger in his voice rising with each second.
"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" Umbridge asked in a cloying voice.
"Oh, what's his name?" Arabella asked in a mocking tone. "It's on the tip of my tongue… Oh, what's his name, Harry? Come on, let's think…"
"Lord Voldemort," Harry said shortly, glaring at Umbridge.
Ron gasped, Lavender uttered a little scream, and Neville slipped off his chair momentarily. Everyone was staring between Harry and Umbridge. Their professor, however, was staring at Harry with a sickly satisfied look on her face.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter," she said quickly. She then looked at the rest of the class and said, "Now, let me make a few things quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead –"
"He wasn't dead," Harry said angrily, "but yeah, he's returned!"
"Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," said Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."
"It is NOT a lie!" said Harry, standing up. "We saw him, I fought him!"
"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge said victoriously. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie –"
"How could you say that?" cried Arabella, her body trembling. "Voldemort's back. Why would we lie about something like that?"
" – the Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard," continued Umbridge, ignoring Arabella. "If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend –"
"Then what happened to Cedric?" Arabella said in a rough voice.
It seemed as though everyone in the class held their breath. No one had heard about what happened that night, save for her and Harry. Everyone in the class either stared at Arabella, as though expecting her to continue, or at Umbridge, who raised her eyebrows and stared at Arabella.
"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," she said coldly.
"So you think he dropped dead of his own accord?" said Harry, his voice shaking.
"Like I said, it was a tragic –"
"It was murder," said Harry. "Voldemort killed him, and you know it."
Umbridge stared at him and then said, in an overly sweet voice, "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear."
He kicked his chair aside and strode up to the teacher's desk. Umbridge handed something to Harry. Nobody spoke as Umbridge told him something. Harry left the classroom without looking at anyone, and slammed the door.
"Now, if you will kindly continue your reading, page five –"
"How could you?" breathed Arabella, staring at Umbridge ludicrously. "Voldemort killed Cedric, how could you not believe –?"
"Sit down, Miss Black!"
"No!" shouted Arabella. "I'm not going to sit down! Cedric was murdered by Voldemort! I saw it and so did Harry! He's out there right now –"
"Where, outside the classroom door?" inquired Umbridge with a dismissive laugh.
"He's rebuilding his army! All the old Death Eaters are back, they returned to his side! How could you – how – you're supposed to be our teacher! You're supposed to protect us and teach us and you're practically handing us over to them on a silver platter!"
"I am not doing any such thing –"
"How could you even think that about Cedric?" Arabella asked quietly, her lips twisted as her eyes stung.
"Miss Black, it is highly inappropriate for a young lady to be spreading such vicious lies –"
"It's not a lie!" shrieked Arabella. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"Arabella," mumbled Hermione, standing up and trying to get her to sit down.
But Arabella shoved Hermione away, glaring at Umbridge and spat, "I hope he comes for you first."
Dean let out a low whistle as Umbridge's face fell. There was no trace of false sweetness. Just pure anger.
"I beg your pardon –"
"You heard me," Arabella said quickly. "Voldemort's out there, plotting and you would rather act as though everything is fine and dandy rather than face the truth." She then addressed the class and said, "He will not think twice before killing us –"
"That's enough, Miss Black!" Umbridge then composed herself for a moment and said, in a false sweet voice, "Come here, dear."
Arabella did not move. She watched Umbridge open her handbag, pull out a roll of pink parchment and scribble something on it. Everyone stared at Umbridge as she tapped her wand on the parchment, sealing it with something to make sure Arabella couldn't read it.
Umbridge held out the note for Arabella and said, "Take this to Professor McGonagall."
Arabella walked up to her desk and snatched the note quickly. Just as she grabbed her bag and was about to leave the classroom, Umbridge called out.
"Miss Black – detention tomorrow evening at six o'clock. Don't be late."
Arabella rolled her eyes and slammed the door behind her. She took long strides towards McGonagall's office. When she knocked on the door, Arabella felt burnt out. She was exhausted, having to defend herself against the school. What was the point of returning? She should have stayed with Remus and Sirius.
The door flew open and McGonagall stared at her with an exasperated look on her face.
"Not you too!" McGonagall took the note from Arabella's hand, read it quickly and extended her office door. "Come in, Black. Hurry."
Arabella felt a sense of familiarity. She was sent to McGonagall's office during her third year as well, when a couple of Slytherins decided to pick a fight with her and her friends. But this time Harry was already sitting on an armchair, eating a biscuit. He looked confused at her.
"So, I'm assuming it's true," said McGonagall, sitting down behind her desk.
"Sure," Arabella said shortly. "Can I have a biscuit?"
She reached for one in the tartan tin, but McGonagall quickly snatched them away.
"You yelled at Professor Umbridge?" asked McGonagall.
"We both did," Arabella said simply.
"And you wished death upon her?"
Arabella snorted and said, "Sure did."
"And accused her of endangering the lives of her students?"
"Yup."
McGonagall pushed the tartan tin towards her and Arabella grabbed a couple sugar cookies. She took the seat next to Harry and swallowed one quickly. She did not know what was in them, but Arabella knew McGonagall laced them with something to make students calm. McGonagall then set down Umbridge's notes and looked gravely at both of them.
"You both need to be careful. Misbehaviour in Dolores Umbridge's class could cost you much more than House points and detention."
McGonagall's tone was low and anxious. Arabella's only every heard her sound like this one other time. She warned Arabella to be more careful around Slytherins or else they and their parents will try to chuck her into Azkaban. Sirius had escaped Azkaban that year. It seemed like such a long time ago. Her problems then seemed simpler somehow.
"What do you –"
"Potter, use your common sense," snapped McGonagall. "You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting."
The bell rang, and they could hear hundreds of students on the other side of the door.
"It says here she's given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow."
"Every evening this week!" repeated Harry. "But, Professor, couldn't you –?"
"No, I couldn't," McGonagall said flatly. "She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will go to her room at five o'clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember: Tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge."
"But I was telling the truth!" said an outraged Harry. "Voldemort's back, you know he is, Professor Dumbledore knows he is –"
"It doesn't matter, Harry," Arabella said in a strained tone. "It doesn't matter if we tell the truth a hundred times or not. The truth doesn't matter, not anymore."
"It's about keeping your head down," said McGonagall, "and keeping your temper under control! And you," she said suddenly, pointing her finger at Arabella.
"What did I do now?" groaned Arabella.
"Did you seriously yell at Alfred Clemens? For god's sake, Black, he's just a small boy."
"Yeah, a small boy who accused me of murder," Arabella said irritably. "Why are you yelling at me? You should be yelling at him and whoever else told him!"
McGonagall pursed her lips into a thin line. "I did. He was escorted here by Mr. and Mr. Weasley. He has detention tomorrow night with me."
"Oh," Arabella said lamely.
"And fifty points should about do it, Black," said McGonagall. Before Arabella could say anything, McGonagall continued and said, "I cannot have you going around frightening second years, Black. Fifty points is plenty, and I won't give you detention. Keep your temper in line, and that goes for you as well, Potter."
She stood up, nostrils wide, and Arabella and Harry followed her.
"Didn't you listen to Dolores Umbridge's speech at the start-of-term feast?"
"Yeah," said Harry.
"The Ministry will be interfering at Hogwarts," whispered Arabella.
McGonagall eyed them both for a moment and said, "Keep that in mind as the year progresses. I don't want to see either of you in here again."
She then held out the door and pointed them out of her office. Arabella sighed as she and Harry leaned against the corridor walls, waiting for people to pass them by.
"So, you yelled a child?" asked Harry, looking over at her.
"You yelled at Ron and Hermione," commented Arabella. "Wanna talk about that?"
"As long as you talk about that kid," Harry said quickly.
Arabella gave him a small smile and nodded. "Deal."
They took their time walking towards the Great Hall, neither of them in a rush. Harry explained his lunch with Ron and Hermione going at it and Arabella explained Alfred Clemens and everyone in the corridor whispering about her. She felt better in that moment than she has all day. She felt relieved to get it off her chest and to talk to Harry, someone who understood more than anyone else. But her relief was short lived. As they entered the Great Hall, they were met with more stares and whispers. She shouldn't be so surprised. News always travels fast around Hogwarts. This was no different.
Harry looked around the Hall quickly and grabbed Arabella's hand, heading over to the end of the Gryffindor table. Arabella and Harry ate quietly and quickly next to Ron and Hermione. The people around them didn't seem to mind them overhearing what they were saying about them. It appears they were hoping that Arabella and Harry would blow up again.
"They say they saw Cedric Diggory murdered –"
"He reckons he dueled with You-Know-Who…"
"Come off it…"
"Who does she think she's kidding?"
"Pur-lease…"
"They couldn't believe this story two months ago when Dumbledore told them?" said Harry.
"I'm not sure they did, Harry," said Hermione. "Come on, let's get out of here."
Arabella and Harry didn't eat much, but neither seemed to mind. People stared at them all the way out of the Great Hall.
"What d'you mean, you're not sure they believed Dumbledore?" Harry asked as they reached the first landing.
"Look, you don't understand what it was like after it happened," Hermione said quietly. "The both of you arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body… Nobody else saw what happened in the maze… We just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you."
"Which is the truth!"
"We know," Arabella said shortly.
"It just that… before the truth could sink it," Hermione continued wearily, "everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase, Arabella is following in her family's footsteps and Dumbledore's going senile!"
Arabella pursed her lips as they quietly made their way back towards the Gryffindor tower and into the common room. Thankfully, it was nearly empty, and they were able to get their favourite chairs near the fireplace. Rain was pounding against the windows and the fire warmed Arabella's feet, but it did not help her sense of dread and exhaustion.
"How can Dumbledore have let this happen!"
Arabella, Harry and Ron jumped. Hermione pounded the arm of her chair in fury.
"How can he let that terrible women teach us? And in our O.W.L. year too!"
"Well, we've never had great Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we?" said Harry.
"Well, the last two weren't so bad," said Arabella, shrugging sheepishly. "I mean, it was Crouch, but we did learn something from him"' she added when Harry turned to her with disbelief on his face. "Plus, the job's jinxed."
"Yes, but to employ someone who's actually refusing to let us do magic!" cried Hermione. "What's Dumbledore playing at?"
"And she's trying to get people to spy for her," Ron said darkly. "Remember when she said she wanted us to come and tell her if we hear anyone saying You-Know-Who's back?"
"Of course, she's here to spy on us," snapped Hermione. "That's obvious, why else would Fudge have wanted her to come?"
"Don't start arguing again," Harry said wearily. "Can't we just… Let's just do that homework, get it out of the way…"
Arabella took out her books and began working. People were now coming back from dinner and she did her best to keep her attention focused on her homework, despite that fact that she could sense them all staring at her and Harry. She began working on Snape's first, reading the chapter multi times, realizing that she retained nothing each time. Hermione, much to her shock, wasn't scribbling away at her parchment. She was staring at Fred, George and Lee in the corner with a couple first years, who were chewing something that looked suspicious. Hermione marched over and gave them a piece of her mind, threatening to write Mrs. Weasley about what they've been doing. Fred and George took this to heart and it looked as though they weren't going to test on anymore first years.
Hermione soon began knitting hats for elves and Arabella disagreed with her method, pointing out that she was insulting the elves. But her and Ron's concerns fell on deaf years as Hermione believed that she was doing the right thing. Ron waited until Hermione was gone to throw them into the fire.
The next morning, Hermione was smug, stating that all the hats were gone and that maybe some elves wanted to be free. They had double Charms after breakfast, followed by double Transfiguration. Flitwick and McGonagall both spent fifteen minutes giving them a lecture of the importance of O.W.L.s. They spent an hour reviewing Summoning Charms, which Flitwick claimed was bound to coming up in their exam, and then gave them a large amount of Charms homework. McGonagall made they practice the Vanishing Spells, which Arabella found quite difficult. She knew she would have done better if she wasn't so exhausted. By the end of the period, her snail was only half gone, and McGonagall gave them more homework to add to their pile.
Care of Magical Creatures was no better. Grubbly-Plank made class enjoyable with bowtruckles, but Arabella thought she was going to go mad, listening to Malfoy and his gang make fun of Hagrid every chance they got. Arabella was trying to draw the bowtruckle's face when Harry snapped it in half. Malfoy had just loudly called Hagrid an overgrown moron that will get sacked even if he decided to come back.
"If he calls Hagrid a moron one more time…" snarled Harry as they made their way to Herbology.
"Harry, don't go picking a row with Malfoy," warned Hermione. "Don't forget, he's a prefect now, he could make like difficult for you…"
"Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult like?"
Arabella snorted as they crossed the vegetable patch.
"I just wish Hagrid would hurry up and get back, that's all," Harry said in a low voice as they reached the greenhouses. "And don't say that Grubbly-Plank woman's a better teacher!" he added threateningly.
"I wasn't going to," said Hermione calmly.
"Because she'll never be as good as Hagrid," said Harry firmly.
The door to the greenhouse opened and fourth years began filing out.
"Hi," Ginny said brightly as she passed.
A few second later, Luna Lovegood emerged with dirt smudged on her nose. When she saw Harry, her eyes bulged excitedly, and she made a beeline straight for him. Many of the surrounding students turned curiously to watch. Luna took a great breath and then said, "I believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and I believe you fought him and that both of you escaped."
She stared at Harry and Arabella. Lavender and Parvati began giggling and pointing at Luna's orange radish earrings.
"You can laugh!" said Luna, her voice rising. It looked as though she thought they were laughing at what she said, not what she was wearing. "But people used to believe there were no such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"
"Well, they were right, weren't they?" said Hermione impatiently. "There weren't any such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."
Luna gave her a withering look and Arabella said, quickly, "Thank you, Luna, for supporting us. We – er – we appreciate it."
Luna gave her a dreamy mile and flounced away, the radishes swinging. Lavender and Parvati were now howling with laughter.
"D'you mind not offending the only people who believe us?" Harry asked Hermione as they made their way into class.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harry, you can do better than her," said Hermione. "Ginny's told me all about her, apparently she'll only believe in things as long as there's no proof at all. Well, I wouldn't expect anything else from someone whose father runs The Quibbler."
"It doesn't matter," Arabella said, slightly ticked off. "She believes in us and there's nothing wrong with The Quibbler."
Before Hermione could say anything else, Ernie Macmillan stepped forward towards them.
"I want you to know that it's not only weirdos who support you," he said loudly to Harry and Arabella. "I personally believe the both of you one hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore and so do I."
Arabella was taken back but pleased as she and Harry shook his hand. Ernie was known to be pompous on certain occasions, but he spoke loudly, and he spoke with confidence as he stood by them. His declaration wiped the smile off Lavender's face as they entered the greenhouse.
Sprout began their first lesson by lecturing them on the importance of O.W.L.s. Arabella wished all the professors would coordinate with each other and decide on the one who would do this instead of all of them constantly berating them with this subject. She knew how important her O.W.L.s were. She knew it yesterday when Snape told them, and she knew it this morning when Flitwick and McGonagall did the same. Each time they brought it up, Arabella could feel her inside twist with anxiety. She didn't feel any better when Sprout decided to give them an essay.
As she walked up the stone steps back into the castle, Arabella quickly checked her watch. She had her first detention with Umbridge at six o'clock. She was starving and quickly headed into the Great Hall. She heard someone call for Harry behind her but kept moving. She took a seat next to Ron and began piling food on her plate. She felt as though she had barely eaten since coming to Hogwarts.
"Was that Angelina?" asked Hermione, taking a seat across from her.
"Dunno," mumbled Arabella, swiftly cutting up some lamb chops.
"It might have been something important," Hermione commented. "You should go and see what it is. It's probably something to do about the team."
"If I was needed, she would have called my –"
"Black!"
" – name," Arabella finished lamely as Hermione smiled proudly at herself.
Arabella turned to see Angelina marching towards her with towering anger. Arabella quickly stood up, alarmed, as Angelina crossed her arms in front of her.
"Well," said Angelina, poking Arabella in the chest, "what do you have to say for yourself?"
"What?" asked Arabella, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"How come you've landed yourself in detention for six o'clock on Friday?"
"What does that have to do with Quidditch?" asked Arabella.
Harry appeared and took a seat beside Hermione. "Keeper tryouts."
"Keeper – oh…"
"Didn't I tell you I wanted to do a tryout with the whole team?" snarled Angelina. "I wanted to find someone who fitted in with everyone and now you've decided that you're not going to be there!"
"It's not like I want detention with her!" retorted Arabella. "It's not like I chose not to be there!"
"You told her that you wished You-Know-Who would go after her," Angelina said fiercely, "but you are going to get her to let you off on Friday. I don't care how you either of you do it," she gave Harry a sharp look, "just make sure you're there!"
Angelina then stormed away as Arabella stared after her, her mouth ajar.
"I think we'd better check with Puddlemere United," said Harry, "see if Oliver Wood's been killed during a training session, because she seems to be channeling his spirit."
"What d'you reckon are the odds of Umbridge letting you off on Friday?" said Ron.
Arabella snorted. "Like she's going to pass an opportunity of letting us go."
"Better try, though," Harry said grumpily. "I'll offer to do two more detentions or something, I dunno… I hope she doesn't keep us too long this evening. You realize we've got to write three essays, practice Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a countercharm for Flitwick, finish the bowtruckle drawing, and start that stupid dream diary?"
Ron moaned and for some reason glanced up at the ceiling. "And it looks like it's going to rain."
"What's that got to do with our homework?" said Hermione, her eyebrows raised.
"Nothing."
A five to five, Harry bid that goodbye and Arabella made her way back to the Gryffindor tower. She found a secluded corner and tried to do as much of her homework as she could before her own detention. She worked on the Vanishing Spell and managed to get it just right before she headed off to Umbridge's office.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter."
Harry stared and looked around. The office was in totally unrecognizable from the previous years. Every surface had been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases of dried flowers and on one wall there was a collection of ornamental places, each decorated with large kittens wearing different bowties. He didn't even notice Umbridge as first as her set of robes blended too well with the table clothe on her desk.
"Evening," Harry said stiffly.
"Well, sit down," she said. There were two tables in front of her own. She pointed at the one on the right. A piece of parchment lay on the table, waiting for him.
"Er, Professor Umbridge? Er – before we start, I – I wanted to ask you a… a favour."
Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, yes?"
"Well I'm… I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was – was wondering if me and Arabella – she's on the team too – I was wondering whether we could skip detention that night and do it – do it another night… instead…"
"Oh no," said Umbridge, her smile widening in triumph. "Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you and Miss Black will come here in your allotted times tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing that you and Miss Black are missing something that you both really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you."
Harry felt the blood surge to his head, his ears ringing. So, he told evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, did he? With a massive effort, Harry looked away from her, dropping his schoolbag beside the right desk and sat down.
"There," Umbridge said sweetly, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr. Potter. No, not with your quill. You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."
She handed him a long, thin black quill with a usually sharp point. She then said, softly, "I want you to write 'I must not tell lies.'"
"How many times?" Harry asked, surprised at his own politeness.
"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge said sweetly. "Off you go."
She moved over to her desk, sat down, and bent over a stack of parchment. Harry raised the sharp black quill and then realized what was missing.
"You haven't given me any ink."
"Oh, you won't need ink," said Professor Umbridge, laughter in her voice.
Harry placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies.
He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words appeared on the back of Harry's right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel – yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth. Harry looked around at Umbridge, who was watching him with a wide, toad-like smile.
"Yes?"
"Nothing," Harry said quietly.
He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, write I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time. Once again, the words had been cut into his skin, once again they healed over second later. And it went on, again and again. He soon came to realize it was not ink, but his own blood. He had almost lost track of time until there was a knock on Umbridge's office.
He sat up quickly, feeling his heart drop to his stomach and the blood from his face drain. He then looked at Umbridge, who was smiling and gazing at Harry. He looked at her pleadingly… not Arabella, anybody but Arabella… She couldn't do this to her…
"That would be Miss Black," Umbridge said quietly. "My, my, this will be hard for you, Mr. Potter."
Thank you so much for reading! Tell me what you guys think of this chapter!