Professor Dolores Umbridge, wearing her fluffy, pink cardigan and a black velvet bow, sat behind the teacher's desk. She beamed at the class and said, in her sickly sweet voice, "Well, good afternoon!"

A couple people—all Students—muttered "good afternoon" halfheartedly in reply.

Under the desk, I clasped her hands together in some sort of prayer. "Please let Umbridge be a good teacher. Please let Umbridge be a good teacher. Please let Umbridge be a good teacher. I really need to pass Defense Against the Dark Arts. Please let Umbridge be a good teacher. I could put up with her voice and her outfits and her personality as long as she knew how to teach."

Umbridge shook her head. "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!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge."

"There, now," said Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

I put my Holly and Thunderbird feather wand away in my shoulder bag. I had a bad feeling about this. I glanced over my shoulder at Chandler and saw that her face showed the same bitterness as I felt. It looked like we were in for another year of uneducational and dull Defense Against the Dark Arts classes.

"Well now," said Umbridge, rising from her seat. "Your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it? The constant changing of teachers, I must admit I am one of those failed teachers, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL and most definitely your NEWR years. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. I am here to just teach you the basics. Copy down the following, please."

She tapped the blackboard with her wand and the list of course aims appeared in curling, white writing.

When everyone else had finished writing down the course aims, Umbridge asked, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a murmur throughout the class. A couple people agreed. Crabbe grunted. Chandler swore under her breath.

"I think we'll try that again," said Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge."

"Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

As I opened my book to chapter one, "I missGilderoy Lockhart and the Cornish pixies he'd set loose on the students. At least that had been entertaining." Mac whispered.

I looked up and saw that Hermione Granger had her book closed on her desk and her hand thrust in the air. Her gaze was fixed on Umbridge, who in turn, was determinedly ignoring Granger. I was determined to pretend that Potter's two best friends didn't exist as well. However, it was difficult to ignore Granger when two-thirds of the class were staring at her instead of reading their textbooks.

Umbridge soon realized that as long as Granger's hand was in the air, the class wasn't going to get any work done. With a small tut-tut to clear her throat, Umbridge asked, "Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

"Not about the chapter, no," said Granger.

"Well, we're reading just now." Umbridge's voice poured over the room like honey. "If you have other queries, we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," said Granger.

As much as Granger's overachieving goody-two-shoes attitude annoyed me sometimes, I had to admit the girl was pretty ballsy. Well, I supposed she was in Gryffindor for a reason.

"Ms Granger "said Umbridge slowly. "I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully also as I stated earlier I'm only here to teach you he basic's while we wait for Professor Hecat to arrive at the school." Umbridge smiled, showing all her teeth.

"Well, I don't," said Granger. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

"Using defensive spells?" Umbridge let out a little 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?"

I wondered if stabbing Umbridge with her quill would make her rethink her teaching methods. After all, she would no longer be able to guarantee we wouldn't get attacked in class.

"We're not going to use magic?" asked Weasley loudly from his seat next to Potter.

Umbridge pursed her lips. "Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. Weasley."

Potter, Granger, and Weasley raised their hands in the air. Umbridge looked over all three of them, probably wondering if she could get away with ignoring the Golden Trio. However, since everyone in class was watching her curiously, she had little choice but address their questions one by one. She deliberately passed over Potter and said, "Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," said Granger. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

" You three really are dense huh? You missed the 'whole point' "Umbridge's voice was really grating on our nerves. "I am teaching you the basics Professor Hecat will be teaching you any spells you need to learn"

"What use is that?" Potter finally got tired to being ignored and spoke out of turn. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a—"

"Hand, Mr. Potter!" snapped Umbridge.

As Potter thrust his hand in the air, Umbridge had decided to ignore Granger, Weasley, and Potter. She instead turned to another Gryffindor asked, "And your name is?"

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?" Umbridge's voice had lost its sweetness.

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Thomas. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free—"

Umbridge's smile became frighteningly wide. "I repeat—do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

Thomas hesitated. "No, but—"

I was sorely tempted to attack one of my fellow classmates just so Umbridge could stop arguing that stupid point. " Its not worth it" Chandler said leaning over

"Can we just begin the class," she said. "Those former teachers have been irresponsible "

"Well, no one would argue that Gilderoy Lockhart wasn't irresponsible, but at least we had learnt the disarming spell from him and Snape - which was more than we would learn from Umbridge at this rate." Chandler said.

"If you mean Professor Lupin," said Thomas, determined to defend his favorite professor, "he was the best we ever —"

"Hand, Mr. Thomas!" snapped Umbridge. Her smile momentarily vanished, but it quickly returned with a vengeance.

"No, we haven't," said Granger. "We just—"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"

Umbridge's shrill voice caused Me to jump in my seat. I glanced over my shoulder to see my friends. Chandler looked like she'd rather take her own eye out than be in this class any longer, Mac and Duke was halfheartedly flipping through the pages of her textbook. Even Draco looked annoyed by Umbridge's refusal to teach us magic.

Not noticing, or perhaps ignoring, her class's irritation, Umbridge continued talking, "It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you—"

"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" said Thomas. "Mind you, we still learned loads—"

"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" Umbridge ignored him when he did raise his hand.

My hand shot up.

Umbridge offered her a toad-like smile and asked, "And your name is?"

"Veronica Sawyer, I just started here at Hogwarts, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses 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," said Umbridge.

"Without ever practicing them before?" I asked incredulously. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"

"I repeat," said Umbridge, "that is Professor Hecat's—"

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" said Potter, hand high in the air.

"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," said Umbridge. Her voice frighteningly calm.

Potter's face was red with anger. "So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter you should know."

"Oh yeah?" Potter's shoulders were trembling with frustration.

"Who do you imagine will attack you?" asked Umbridge.

Sarcasm dripped from Potter's words. "Hmm, let's think…Maybe Lord Voldemort?"

Weasley gasped. Longbottom nearly fell off his stool. Lavender Brown actually screamed. Draco was smirking. Mac looked at Me and I snickered, and Millicent gave me a murderous glare. Chandler continued to look bored with the whole process, still half-heartedly flipping through the pages of her textbook.

Umbridge didn't even flinch at the name "Voldemort". A large, toothy smile spread across her face and she said, "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

"Now," said Umbridge, addressing the whole class, "let me make a few things quite plain."

her gaze moved on to Thomas and she said, "You killed him Mr. Potter"

"Yea," cried Potter, "but yeah, he's little dark wizards are still out there!"

"Mr.-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself." Umbridge managed to say all that in one breath, which was pretty impressive. "As I was saying, you killed the mighty Voldermort and his little death eaters are in Azkabam."

"I doubt all of them are" said Harry.

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" said Umbridge. A strange triumph glittered in her eyes. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, Professor Hecat will help you defend yourself against any Dark wizards, I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners'."

A hush had fallen over the classroom as every set of eyes looked from Potter to Umbridge and back to Potter. Umbridge's face was blank, emotionless. Right then, she looked like a complete nutter; she could've thrown a chair at Potter and I wouldn't have been surprised. Then, in her sweetest, sickliest voice, she said, "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear."

"If I were Potter, I would've run screaming in the opposite direction." I whispered.

But, well, Potter wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. He got to his feet and slowly made his way past the rows of students to the teacher's desk. Umbridge pulled out a pink quill and a piece of parchment from her handbag and wrote something down. She then handed the parchment to Potter and said, "Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear."

Potter clenched the note in his right hand and, after grabbing his things from his desk, left the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

"Read chapter one, dears," said Umbridge.

" Well shit" I muttered.