The Height of Singing

.

October 1995

.

It was Saturday morning, almost 10 a.m., and Filius Flitwick was on his way to his favourite 'lesson' of the week. When he had started the choir some 10 years ago, there had only been three participants, all from Ravenclaw. But now there were almost 20 students from all four houses and 7 years. He was very proud of his students and happy that he could pass on his knowledge and passion for music.

It all had started with a conversation with Dumbledore a decade ago about having a new subject where the students could choose between music, art, and theatre. But the headmaster had said that it wasn't feasible because the students had already so many classes – and music, art, and theatre had little to do with becoming a splendid witch or wizard. The compromise had been an extracurricular choir on Saturdays for those students who wanted to – and Flitwick couldn't be more fortunate with this arrangement.

He looked on his pocket watch and noticed he had to hurry a bit. His short legs hastened through the school and when he finally reached the Great Hall through the teacher's entrance, he spoke while opening the door.

"Good morning, everyone. Excuse my lateness." He smiled at the bunch of students in good humour, though today only half had shown up, when he noticed the tension in the room and saw their anxious faces. Before he could ask them, what was the matter, he heard the infamous "Hem, hem" of Professor Umbridge.

The High Inquisitor stepped forward and smiled sweetly. "Good morning, Professor Flitwick. As I am instructed by the Ministry, Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, to inspect all the lessons, I thought that I should also have a look at the choir – Hogwarts' only extracurricular activity."

"Naturally," he replied and tried to sound indifferent but inwardly he was worried. Umbridge tended to make everyone uncomfortable. He looked back at his students, however, with a merry face. "Let's start with our warm-up."

"I would first ask your… participants a few questions," Umbridge interrupted him.

He was annoyed by her interruption but made a go-ahead-gesture and Umbridge started at once by picking – of course – a 7th-year-Slytherin-girl. "Miss Cattins, would you consider the choir a waste of time?"

"What?!" the girl made startled. "No, of course not!"

"But wouldn't you love to spend your Saturday morning otherwise?"

"I'd like to inform you," Flitwick intervened, glaring at Umbridge, "that the students are here voluntarily and can come and go as they please."

"I love singing," Miss Cattins quickly added. "It's great to have this opportunity here and I wish there would be more extracurricular activities."

Umbridge stared at the girl coldly before smiling at a 3rd-year Hufflepuff boy. "And what about you, Mr Vled?"

"I can only agree."

Umbridge's lips tightened. "Well, continue," she spat at Flitwick after a moment, who had to hide a smirk.

For the next quarter of an hour, Umbridge made a lot of notes on her clipboard while he did his exercises with the students. "Alright, everyone, let's try the song from last week again." The students stood in a half-circle before their music sheets and he conducted them.

They started singing and he was glad they were enthusiastic and had improved yet again. From his peripheral view, he could see that Umbridge was coming closer, but he tried to ignore her. When she, however, openly smiled at him and moved her head to the music, he grinned back and hoped that she liked his choir's singing.

"Move those mouths," he told his students to motivate them.

And then suddenly Umbridge had a measuring tape in her hand, which took his height.

His arm sank and he forgot about everything else. This was the first time in his long career at Hogwarts that anyone had said or done anything about his microsomia (or dwarfism). Not even the students had once joked about it, nothing. And here was this… this… woman! and dared to take his height? The old wound he had gotten when he was younger by years of being bullied burst open again and he didn't know how to react.

Then he noticed that his choir had stopped singing and all of his students looked at Umbridge with so much venom in their eyes; he had never seen them like this.

"How dare you!" Miss Cattins then shouted.

"I beg your pardon?" Professor Umbridge tried to sound innocent.

"How dare you humiliate one of our professors because of something he can't do anything about!"

Umbridge's eyes gleamed meanly. "Miss Cattins, I'm warning you. Remember, you are speaking to the High Inquisitor!"

"Yes, Miss Cattins," Flitwick finally found his speech back. "But thank you."

She gave him a smile before glaring back at Umbridge.

"I believe, Professor," Mr Vled spoke at the High Inquisitor after a moment of deadly silence, "that it is clear you are no longer welcome here. You should leave now."

"That is detention for you!" Umbridge huffed but made quickly her exit.

"I'll try to talk her out of it," Flitwick said to the boy when she was gone.

But Mr Vled shrugged and smirked. "It was worth it."

"We all want you to know," Miss Cattins added, "that we would never think ill of you just because of your height. That woman just crossed a huge line!" She made an infuriated face, before smiling warmly at him. "You're our favourite professor."

The rest of the students nodded enthusiastically, and Flitwick had to blink away his tears.