A/N Thanks for all of the reviews so far! :) Hope you're all having a great holiday (if you're on one, I don't know if everywhere has half-term) please R&R xxx
Chapter Fifteen
Hogwarts High Inquisitor
When the mail arrived the next morning, the news Percy was eager for them to discover was plastered across the front page.
It had a large (it had to be, Amara thought, or she wouldn't fit) picture of Dolores Umbridge, looking toad-like as ever, grinning at them with the title:
MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM
DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"
" 'High Inquisitor'?" said Harry darkly, his half-eaten bit of toast slipping from his fingers. "What does that mean?"
Hermione read aloud:
"In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
" 'The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,' said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. 'He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.'
"This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30thEducational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.
" 'That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,' said Weasley last night. 'Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she's been an immediate success —' "
"She's been a WHAT?" said Harry loudly.
"Wait, there's more," said Hermione grimly.
" '— an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts.'
"It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor.'
" 'This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the "falling standards" at Hogwarts,' said Weasley. 'The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.'
"The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.
" 'I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,' said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. 'Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.'
"Among those 'eccentric decisions' are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror 'Mad-Eye' Moody.
"Rumours abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts.
" 'I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence,' said a Ministry insider last night.
"Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts.
" 'Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office,' said Madam Marchbanks. 'This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.' (For a full account of Madam Marchbanks' alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17)."
Hermione finished reading and looked across the table at the other three.
"So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this 'Educational Decree' and forced her on us! And now he's given her the power to inspect other teachers!" Hermione was breathing fast and her eyes were very bright. "I can't believe this. It's outrageous. . . ."
"I know it is," said Harry. Amara was appalled at the news – and how Percy thought it was amazing. How could one person who came from a family of great people be so delusional and stupid and power-hungry?
However a grin was unfurling on Ron's face.
"What?" said Harry and Hermione together, staring at him as though he was mad.
"Oh, I can't wait to see McGonagall inspected," said Ron happily. "Umbridge won't know what's hit her."
Amara started grinning too.
"Well, come on," said Hermione, jumping up, "we'd better get going, if she's inspecting Binns's class we don't want to be late. . . ."
"Kind of do," Amara muttered to Ron and Harry as they walked out. "Boring old Binns and Umbridge?"
Professor Umbridge was not inspecting their History of Magic lesson, which was just as dull as the previous Monday, nor was she in Snape's dungeon when they arrived for double Potions after break. Snape handed them back their essays, and Amara was very pleased to discover she had gotten an "A". Eventhough it was the last pass grade, she still felt pleased with herself.
"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your O.W.L," said Snape with a smirk, as he swept among them, passing back their homework. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination."
Snape reached the front of the class and turned to face them.
"The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get D's."
He smirked as Malfoy sniggered and said in a carrying whisper,
"Some people got "D"'s? Ha!"
They did Strengthening Solution after that, and Amara tried her very best. But her potion was a blue instead of turquoise, but at least it wasn't pink, like Neville's, or yellow, like Goyle's.
"Well, that wasn't as bad as last week, was it?" said Hermione, as they climbed the steps out of the dungeon and made their way across the entrance hall toward lunch. "And the homework didn't go too badly either, did it?"
Neither Ron nor Harry answered, so Hermione pressed on, obviously wanting them to spill their results (she'd already seen Amara's) "I mean, all right, I didn't expect the top grade, not if he's marking to O.W.L. standard, but a pass is quite encouraging at this stage, wouldn't you say?"
Harry made a noncommittal noise in his throat.
"Of course, a lot can happen between now and the exam, we've got plenty of time to improve, but the grades we're getting now are a sort of baseline, aren't they? Something we can build on . . ."
They sat down together at the Gryffindor table.
"Obviously, I'd have been thrilled if I'd gotten an O —"
"Hermione," said Ron sharply, "if you want to know what grades
we got, ask."
"I don't — I didn't mean — well, if you want to tell me —"
"I got a P," said Ron, ladling soup into his bowl. "Happy?"
"Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of," said Fred, who had just arrived at the table with George and Lee Jordan and was sitting down next to Amara (he gave her a wink, and she determinedly looked away, trying not to react). "Nothing wrong with a good healthy P."
"But," said Hermione, "doesn't P stand for . . ."
" 'Poor,' yeah," said Lee Jordan. "Still, better than "D", isn't it? 'Dreadful'?"
"So top grade's O for 'Outstanding,' " Hermione said, "and then there's A —"
"No, E," George corrected her, "E for 'Exceeds Expectations.' And I've always thought Fred and I should've got E in everything, because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for the exams."
They all laughed except Hermione, who ploughed on, "So after E, it's A for 'Acceptable,' and that's the last pass grade, isn't it?"
"Yep," said Fred, casually dunking an entire roll in his soup, transferring it to his mouth, and swallowing it whole. Amara stared at him as he grinned. She went back to her soup and decided she wasn't going to try eating a roll whole. "Then you get "P" for 'Poor' " — Ron raised both his arms in mock celebration — "and "D" for 'Dreadful.' "
"And then T," George reminded him.
""T"?" asked Hermione, looking appalled. "Even lower than a "D"? What on earth does "T" stand for?"
"'Troll,' " said George promptly.
If Amara was still doing Divination, she would have tried to get a "T", just to show Professor Trelawney how stupid it was.
"You lot had an inspected lesson yet?" Fred asked them.
"Not yet," said Amara. "We thought she'd be in History of Magic."
"She wouldn't dare go in there," said Fred. "Even she'd die of boredom – not that I'd complain …"
"Have you?" Hermione asked George.
"Just now, before lunch," said George. "Charms."
"What was it like?" Harry and Hermione asked together.
Fred shrugged.
"Not that bad. Umbridge just lurked in the corner making notes on a clipboard. You know what Flitwick's like, he treated her like a guest, didn't seem to bother him at all. She didn't say much. Asked Alicia a couple of questions about what the classes are normally like, Alicia told her they were really good, that was it."
"I can't see old Flitwick getting marked down," said George, "he usually gets everyone through their exams all right."
"Who've you got this afternoon?" Fred asked Harry.
"Trelawney —"
"A T if ever I saw one —"
"— and Umbridge herself."
"Well, be a good boy and keep your temper with Umbridge today," said George. "Angelina'll do her nut if you miss any more Quidditch practices."
However, when Harry and Ron turned up for Defence Against the Dark Arts after their Divination lesson (Amara had had Ancient Runes) they told them that Umbridge had just inspected Professor Trelawney's lesson. And apparently she had made her feel pretty bad too. Even though Amara thought Professor Trelawney was a bit of a loon, she still didn't want her sacked because of Professor Umbridge.
Professor Umbridge seemed pleased by the fact that it had gone so badly, because she was humming and smiling when they entered the room and got out their copies of Defensive Magical Theory, where they'd be moving on to Chapter Two.
They couldn't ask any questions about Trelawney's inspection, because Umbridge required their attention.
"Wands away," she instructed them all smilingly, and those people who had been hopeful enough to take them out sadly returned them to their bags. "As we finished chapter one last lesson, I would like you all to turn to page nineteen today and commence chapter two, 'Common Defensive Theories and Their Derivation.' There will be no need to talk."
Amara turned her book to page nineteen and began to read 'Common Defensive Theories and Their Derivation'.
'Defensive Theories have propped up from various sources throughout the times of Wizardry. The earliest recollection is the now unpopular "burning" technique, which required one to cast the incantation so that his or her opponent would catch fire before doing any harm.
More recently, Defensive Theories have advanced from these rather horrible techniques …'
Amara was going to read on, but Hermione had her hand up again and she wanted to know what was going on.
So she watched Umbridge come down and lean in front of her so that she wouldn't distract the rest of the class.
"What is it this time, Miss Granger?"
"I've already read chapter two," said Hermione.
"Well then, proceed to chapter three."
"I've read that too. I've read the whole book."
Professor Umbridge blinked but recovered her poise almost instantly.
"Well, then, you should be able to tell me what Slinkhard says about counterjinxes in chapter fifteen."
"He says that counterjinxes are improperly named," said Hermione promptly. "He says 'counterjinx' is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make them sound more acceptable."
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows as though she was impressed.
"But I disagree," Hermione continued.
Professor Umbridge's eyebrows rose a little higher and her gaze became distinctly colder.
"You disagree?"
"Yes, I do," said Hermione, who, unlike Umbridge, was not whispering, but speaking in a clear, carrying voice that had by now attracted the rest of the class's attention. "Mr Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, does he? But I think they can be very useful when they're used defensively."
"Oh, you do, do you?" said Professor Umbridge, forgetting to whisper and straightening up. "Well, I'm afraid it is Mr Slinkhard's opinion, and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger."
"But —" Hermione began.
"That is enough," said Professor Umbridge. She walked back to the front of the class and stood before them, all the jauntiness she had shown at the beginning of the lesson gone. "Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor House."
There was an outbreak of muttering at this.
"What for?" said Harry angrily.
"Shut up Harry!" Amara hissed at him.
"For disrupting my class with pointless interruptions," said Professor Umbridge smoothly. "I am here to teach you using a Ministry approved method that does not include inviting students to give their opinions on matters about which they understand very little. Your previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more license, but as none of them — with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects — would have passed a Ministry inspection —"
"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher," said Harry loudly, "there was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head."
There was an oddly loud silence.
"I think another week's detentions would do you some good, Mr Potter," said Umbridge sleekly and Amara nearly slapped herself in annoyance and frustrated.
-OOOOO-
At dinner, Angelina Johnson found out about Harry's renewed detentions, and she was not pleased. In fact, she yelled at him so loudly she attracted the attention of Professor McGonagall.
"Miss Johnson, how dare you make such a racket in the Great Hall! Five points from Gryffindor!"
"But Professor — he's gone and landed himself in detention again —"
"What's this, Potter?" said Professor McGonagall sharply, rounding on Harry. "Detention? From whom?"
"From Professor Umbridge," muttered Harry, not meeting Professor McGonagall's beady, square-framed eyes.
"Are you telling me," she said, lowering her voice so that the group of curious Ravenclaws behind them could not hear, "that after the warning I gave you last Monday you lost your temper in Professor Umbridge's class again?"
"Yes," Harry muttered, speaking to the floor and not to the cross Professor.
"Potter, you must get a grip on yourself! You are heading for serious trouble! Another five points from Gryffindor!"
"But — what? Professor, no!" Harry said, but Amara thought she had a point. "I'm already being punished by her, why do you have to take points as well?"
"Because detentions do not appear to have any effect on you whatsoever!" said Professor McGonagall tartly. "No, not another word of complaint, Potter! And as for you, Miss Johnson, you will confine your shouting matches to the Quidditch pitch in future or risk losing the team Captaincy!"
She strode back toward the staff table. Angelina gave Harry a look of deepest disgust and stalked away, upon which Harry flung himself onto the bench beside Ron, fuming.
"She's taken points off Gryffindor because I'm having my hand sliced open every night! How is that fair, how?"
"I know, mate," said Ron sympathetically, tipping bacon onto Harry's plate, "she's bang out of order."
Hermione and Amara said nothing. Amara was reading the Daily Prophet with Hermione so she could hide her true feelings.
"You guys think McGonagall was right, do you?" said Harry angrily.
"Who cares much about points anyway," said Amara as Hermione said:
"I wish she hadn't taken points from you."
Amara carried on. "But she's right with Umbridge – you didn't need to get involved yesterday. Just hate in your mind. It's what I do."
Harry did not speak to her or Hermione the entire Charms lesson (Amara didn't mind, because she knew he'd come back in a while) but when they entered Transfiguration they found Professor Umbridge sitting in the corner with a clipboard.
"Excellent," whispered Ron, as they sat down in their usual seats. "Let's see Umbridge get what she deserves."
Professor McGonagall marched into the room without giving the slightest indication that she knew Professor Umbridge was there.
"That will do," she said and silence fell immediately. "Mr Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework — Miss Brown, please take this box of mice — don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you — and hand one to each student —"
"Hem, hem," said Professor Umbridge, employing the same silly little cough.
Professor McGonagall ignored her. Amara got her homework back and saw she got an "E", with 'Very close to an "O"' scrawled across the top.
"Right then, everyone, listen closely — Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention — most of you have now successfully vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have the gist of the spell. Today we shall be —"
"Hem, hem," said Professor Umbridge.
"Yes?" said Professor McGonagall, turning round, her eyebrows so close together they seemed to form one long, severe line.
"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec —"
"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom," said Professor McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Professor Umbridge. Many of the students exchanged looks of glee. "As I was saying, today we shall be practicing the altogether more difficult vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell —"
"Hem, hem."
"I wonder," said Professor McGonagall in cold fury, turning on Professor Umbridge, "how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking."
Professor Umbridge looked as though she had just been slapped in the face (which Amara wanted to do). She did not speak, but straightened the parchment on her clipboard and began scribbling furiously. Looking supremely unconcerned, Professor McGonagall addressed the class once more.
"As I was saying, the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be vanished. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So — you know the incantation, let me see what you can do. . . ."
"How she can lecture me about not losing my temper with Umbridge!" Harry said to Ron, but Amara overheard him, under his voice, but he was grinning.
Professor Umbridge took notes for most of the class, and didn't follower her like she apparently did with Professor Trelawney. When Professor McGonagall finally told them all to pack away at the end of the lesson, she rose with a grim expression on her face.
"Well, it's a start," said Ron, holding up a long, wriggling mouse tail and dropping it back into the box Lavender was passing around.
As they filed out of the classroom, Harry saw Professor Umbridge approach the teacher's desk; he nudged Ron, who nudged Amara, who nudged Hermione in turn, and the four of them deliberately fell back to eavesdrop.
"How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Professor Umbridge asked.
"Thirty-nine years this December," said Professor McGonagall brusquely, snapping her bag shut.
Professor Umbridge made a note.
"Very well," she said, "you will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time."
"I can hardly wait," said Professor McGonagall in a coldly indifferent voice, and she strode off toward the door. "Hurry up, you four," she added, sweeping Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione before her. Amara definitely saw her give a small smile to them as they passed through, trying to conceal grins of glee.
Professor Umbridge was again present in Care of Magical Creatures, which Amara was irritated about: she had had enough of the woman for one day.
"You do not usually take this class, is that correct?" She asked Professor Grubbly-Plank as they arrived at the trestle table where the group of captive bowtruckles were scrambling around for wood lice which were wriggling everywhere.
"Quite correct," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, hands behind her back and bouncing on the balls of her feet as though she was very eager to be there or answer the questions. Amara wasn't sure, but she hope Professor Grubbly-Plank didn't say anything bad about Hagrid's absence. "I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid."
Harry exchanged uneasy looks with Amara, Ron and Hermione.
"Hmm," said Professor Umbridge, dropping her voice in an attempt to make her unheard by failing brilliantly, "I wonder — the headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information on the matter — can you tell me what is causing Professor Hagrid's very extended leave of absence?"
" 'Fraid I can't," said Professor Grubbly-Plank breezily. "Don't know anything more about it than you do. Got an owl from Dumbledore, would I like a couple of weeks teaching work, accepted — that's as much as I know. Well . . . shall I get started then?"
"Yes, please do," said Professor Umbridge, scribbling upon her clipboard.
Umbridge took a different tack in this class and wandered among the students, questioning them on magical creatures. Most people were able to answer well, which was good, as it made Hagrid look slightly better. But Amara knew, what with Professor Umbridge's hatred for half-breeds that once Hagrid returned, he wouldn't get a warm reception by here, especially when he was plastered all over the Daily Prophet the year before about being half-giant.
"Overall," said Professor Umbridge, returning to Professor Grubbly- Plank's side after a lengthy interrogation of Dean Thomas, who was now looking rather shocked and horrified by being in close proximity of her for longer than five minutes. "How do you, as a temporary member of staff — an objective outsider, I suppose you might say — how do you find Hogwarts? Do you feel you receive enough support from the school management?"
"Oh, yes, Dumbledore's excellent," said Professor Grubbly-Plank heartily. "No, I'm very happy with the way things are run, very happy indeed."
Umbridge made a tiny, insignificant note on her clipboard and went on, "And what are you planning to cover with this class this year — assuming, of course, that Professor Hagrid does not return?"
"Oh, I'll take them through the creatures that most often come up in O.W.L.," said Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Not much left to do — they've studied unicorns and nifflers, I thought we'd cover porlocks and kneazles, make sure they can recognize crups and knarls, you know. . . ."
"Well, you seem to know what you're doing, at any rate," said Professor Umbridge, making a very obvious tick on her clipboard. "Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?" she had turned to Goyle, who gave her an idiot-worthy grin.
Malfoy hastened to answer the question, as Goyle seemed rather incompetent of doing so.
"That was me," he said. "I was slashed by a hippogriff."
"A hippogriff?" said Professor Umbridge, now scribbling frantically.
"Only because he was too stupid to listen to what Hagrid told him to do," said Harry angrily.
Amara, Ron and Hermione groaned. Professor Umbridge turned her head slowly in Harry's direction.
"Another night's detention, I think," she said softly. "Well, thank you very much, Professor Grubbly-Plank, I think that's all I need here. You will be receiving the results of your inspection within ten days."
"Jolly good," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and Professor Umbridge set off back across the lawn to the castle.
Amara, Ron and Hermione waited up for Harry that night, because Hermione had somehow got a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles to soothe his hand. Also, she seemed to want to talk to him about something too.
They talked about how horrible Umbridge was for a while, and Hermione was just saying that they needed to do something about her (Ron said poison would be good, whilst Amara said to stab her with the dead Basilisk's fangs, in the Chamber of Secrets) when Harry came traipsing into the common room, past midnight.
"Here," Hermione said anxiously, pushing the small bowl of yellow liquid toward him, "soak your hand in that, it's a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, it should help."
Harry placed his bleeding hand into the bowl. Crookshanks curled around his legs, purring loudly, and then leapt into his lap and settled down.
"Thanks," he said rather gratefully, scratching behind Crookshanks's ears with his left hand.
"I still reckon you should complain about this," said Ron in a low voice.
"No," said Harry flatly.
"McGonagall would want to know," said Amara. "She'd go mental."
"Yeah, she probably would," said Harry. "And how long d'you reckon it'd take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?"
Ron and Amara opened their mouths to tell him he should still complain but they couldn't think of anything to say without agreeing.
"She's an awful woman," said Hermione in a small voice. "Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we've got to do something about her."
"I suggested poison," said Ron grimly.
"No . . . I mean, something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and how we're not going to learn any defence from her at all," said Hermione.
"Well, what can we do about that?" said Ron, yawning. " 'S too late, isn't it? She got the job, she's here to stay, Fudge'll make sure of that."
"Well," said Hermione tentatively. "You know, I was thinking today. . ." She shot a slightly nervous look at Harry and then plunged on, "I was thinking that — maybe the time's come when we should just — just do it ourselves."
"Do what ourselves?" said Harry suspiciously, still floating his hand in the essence of murtlap tentacles, and it looked pretty gross.
"Well — learn Defence Against the Dark Arts ourselves," said Hermione.
"Come off it," groaned Ron. "You want us to do extra work? D'you realise Harry and I are behind on homework again and it's only the second week?"
"But this is much more important than homework!" said Hermione.
Harry and Ron goggled at her, and even Amara turned to stare at her in surprise.
"I didn't think there was anything in the universe more important than homework," said Ron and Amara snorted.
"Don't be silly, of course there is!" said Hermione impatiently, her face bright. "It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge's first lesson, for what's waiting out there. It's about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year —"
"We can't do much by ourselves," said Ron in a defeated voice. "I mean, all right, we can go and look jinxes up in the library and try and practice them, I suppose —"
"No, I agree, we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," said Hermione, and Amara thought Hermione was not acting herself at all. "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong."
"If you're talking about Lupin . . ." Harry began.
"No, no, I'm not talking about Lupin," said Hermione. "He's too busy with the Order and anyway, the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and that's not nearly often enough."
"Who, then?" said Harry, frowning at her.
Hermione heaved a very deep sigh.
"Isn't it obvious?" she said. "I'm talking about you, Harry."
Amara's mouth dropped open in surprise as she thought about it.
"About me what?" said Harry.
"I'm talking about you teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Amara thought this was the best idea Hermione had ever come up with.
"That would be amazing," said Amara.
"That's an idea." Ron said.
"What's an idea?" said Harry.
"You," said Ron. "Teaching us to do it."
"But . . ."
Harry was grinning now, and Amara didn't know why.
"But I'm not a teacher, I can't —"
"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione.
"Me?" said Harry, now grinning more broadly than ever. "No I'm not, you've beaten me in every test —"
"Actually, I haven't," said Hermione coolly. "You beat me in our third year — the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew the subject. But I'm not talking about test results, Harry. Look what you've done!"
"How d'you mean?"
"You know what, I'm not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me," Ron said to Hermione, smirking slightly. He turned to Harry.
"Let's think," he said, pulling a face like Goyle concentrating. "Uh . . . first year — you saved the Stone from You-Know-Who."
"But that was luck," said Harry, "that wasn't skill —"
"Second year you killed the Basilisk and destroyed Riddle, and saved Ginny," said Amara.
"Yeah, but if Fawkes hadn't turned up I —"
"Third year," said Ron, "you fought off about a hundred dementors at once —"
"You know that was a fluke, if the Time-Turner hadn't —"
"Last year," Ron said, almost shouting now, "you fought off You- Know-Who again —"
"Listen to me!" said Harry, because Ron and Hermione were both smirking now and Amara was just about to. "Just listen to me, all right? It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck — I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I didn't plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help —"
Ron and Hermione were still smirking but Amara could see Harry getting riled up.
"Don't sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn't I?" he said heatedly. "I know what went on, all right? And I didn't get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defence Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because — because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right — but I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing — STOP LAUGHING!"
The bowl of murtlap essence fell to the floor and smashed. Harry was on his feet; Crookshanks hissed and ran off whilst Hermione and Ron's smirks had gone.
"You don't know what it's like! You — none of you — you've never had to face him, have you? You think it's just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time you know there's nothing between you and dying except your own — your own brain or guts or whatever — like you can think straight when you know you're about a second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die — they've never taught us that in their classes, what it's like to deal with things like that — and you two — not Amara — sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up —" Amara paled slightly as she thought of Cedric again. She had not thought of him in a while. "You just don't get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn't needed me —"
"We weren't saying anything like that, mate," said Ron, looking aghast. "We weren't having a go at Diggory, we didn't — you've got the wrong end of the —"
He looked helplessly at Hermione, whose face was stricken.
"Harry," she said timidly, "don't you see? This . . . this is exactly why we need you. . . . We need to know what it's r-really like . . . facing him . . . facing V-Voldemort."
Harry sank back down in his chair, breathing heavily and still looking slightly angry.
"Well . . . think about it," said Hermione quietly. "Please?"
Harry nodded.
Hermione stood up.
"Well, I'm off to bed," she said in a voice that was clearly as natural as she could make it. "Erm . . . 'night."
Ron had gotten to his feet too.
"Coming?" he said awkwardly to Harry.
"Yeah," said Harry. "In . . . in a minute. I'll just clear this up."
He indicated the smashed bowl on the floor. Ron nodded and left.
"Reparo," Harry muttered, pointing his wand at the broken pieces of china. Amara stopped watching and instead gazed into the fire, think heavily about the death of Cedric. He was worthless to Voldemort, that was why he was killed. If he was in Harry's position, Harry would have been killed. But then again, if Harry was normal and had nothing to do with Voldemort, he wouldn't have even been in the tournament …
"Amara?"
Amara jumped and turned to see Harry looking at her, concerned. She fixed a smile and stood up.
"Just thinking," she grinned. "Night!"
Her dreams were punctured by dead faces and screams.