CHAPTER 20 – CONFINEMENT
The remainder of October unfolded in a subdued manner at Hogwarts. While life within the castle was perpetually filled with intrigue and enchantment, the month carried on uneventfully until its conclusion. Hermione, ever observant, continued to scrutinize Harry, noting the profound transformations in her friend. There was a newfound sense of determination and dedication radiating from him, not only in his academic pursuits but in every facet of his involvement within the magical realm. Gone was the old Harry, occasionally prone to laxity; the new Harry exhibited an unparalleled zeal. Hermione found great satisfaction in witnessing these changes, recognizing that much hinged on him, and that his influence would play a pivotal role.
Fleur, too, shared Hermione's sentiments, evolving into a stalwart protector of Harry. The French witch had developed a bond with him that mirrored Hermione's own, embodying a sense of guardianship that further solidified their unity.
Harry's progress across all subjects continued to burgeon, demonstrating improvement in every dimension of his magical education. His commitment to his studies reached unprecedented heights, revealing an intellectual prowess that had always lingered beneath the surface. Hermione had occasionally glimpsed this potential, but now it unfolded clearly before her. When she probed into the shift, Harry's explanation caught her somewhat off guard.
"The Dursleys never cared," he confessed with a nonchalant shrug when prompted.
Hermione's confusion must have been palpable, prompting Harry to sigh and offer further elaboration. "The first time I brought home my primary school grades, I hoped for some acknowledgment from my aunt and uncle, thinking I might finally gain acceptance. I was proud of my excellent marks. However, Aunt Petunia dismissed them with a sniff, insinuating that I must have cheated. Uncle Vernon merely grunted, signing the papers so I could return them to school. They never scheduled parent-teacher conferences, and any request for a meeting went unanswered."
Hermione's sympathy was evident as she inquired, "So you didn't make an effort?" While part of her recoiled at the notion of neglecting education, especially for someone as evidently bright as Harry, another part understood the grim ramifications of his unhappy upbringing.
"Didn't seem like there was any point," Harry admitted with a resigned shrug. "I grasped the material, but there was no incentive to be anything more than mediocre, much like my approach since coming to Hogwarts. The Delacours changed that."
Hermione, moved by empathy, enveloped Harry in a comforting embrace. "Oh, Harry," she sighed, recognizing the profound impact of the Delacours on his life.
Harry reciprocated her embrace briefly before withdrawing, his expression contemplative. "Well, partially, maybe. I also realized that my attitude was silly and that I was only hurting myself by coasting through school, especially with Voldemort after me."
The conversation afforded Hermione a deeper understanding of Harry than she had ever gained in the past. While she regretted his previous lack of effort, she found solace in his current progress. His newfound commitment to his studies even positively impacted some of his less academically inclined friends, notably Neville and Ron, who had never been paragons of scholarship. There were instances when Ron—known for his lackadaisical approach—was already engrossed in an assignment by the time Hermione settled into her nightly studying sessions. It seemed a fair turn of events; Ron had influenced Harry early in their Hogwarts days, and now Harry was reciprocating the favor.
Potions, in particular, witnessed a shift not only in Harry's attitude but also in his performance, partially due to the improved demeanor of Professor Snape towards him. While it remained clear that Snape harbored no fondness for Harry, Hermione suspected the professor would nurse that grudge until his last breath. Nonetheless, the classroom atmosphere had become more controlled and professional, an improvement Hermione could only hope would endure.
The inaugural training session of the Defense Club unfolded successfully, with Harry revisiting much of the previous year's curriculum and incorporating spells from earlier years. This served a dual purpose: reacquainting everyone with defense spells and assessing the power and knowledge levels of club members.
However, a significant challenge emerged—the diverse range of competence and age within the club. While many, including Harry, were fifth years, Fleur and her friends represented the advanced levels of seventh years. Younger students, like Ginny, Luna, and Colin Creevey (fourth years), and the second-year Dennis Creevey, further complicated course design. Striking a balance that benefited all without overwhelming the younger members proved tricky.
Consequently, the planned curriculum extended beyond Hogwarts' standard defense spells, including those taught by Moody and recommended in books by both Moody and Sirius. Dueling theory and the more clandestine fighting styles imparted by Moody during the summer were also on the agenda. The challenge lay in creating a comprehensive course that catered to diverse skill levels and ages within the club.
Malfoy persisted in his troublesome ways, a familiar nuisance. While his focus had historically centered on Harry, with Harry's friends catching the brunt of his taunting by association, a shift occurred after the howler incident. Since then, Malfoy directed a greater portion of his vitriol at Hermione, regardless of Harry's presence. Undeterred, Hermione brushed off his taunts, recognizing the utter insignificance of the petty boy's opinions. With a touch of smugness, she recalled the numerous times she or Harry had repelled him in shame, relishing the memory of the third-year punch that sent him reeling. However, Malfoy persisted, and although Harry kept his temper in check, Hermione sensed that the taunts, particularly those aimed at Fleur or herself, were taking a toll on him.
Another source of frustration for Harry was the ongoing baiting he endured in Defense class. Umbridge, rarely overt, had seemingly acquired a modicum of subtlety or perhaps deviousness. Her snide comments and veiled innuendos were unmistakable to anyone attentive enough, carefully timed to moments when they were beyond the observation of other professors. Typically confined to the classroom or deserted corridors, Umbridge's taunts became a persistent annoyance.
Despite Umbridge's behavior, they refrained from seeking Dumbledore's intervention. They knew he was aware of the situation and had already exchanged ideas on how to handle her. Dumbledore actively sought a method to remove her from her position, but they understood the need for concrete evidence to avoid further interference from Fudge.
Throughout these challenges, Hermione admired Harry's resilience. He endured Umbridge's barbs in silence, deflecting her with bland comments whenever possible. Umbridge started by attacking his character and his unwavering belief in Voldemort's return. When that failed, she shifted to comments about his betrothed and his closest friend. In the last week of October, however, her remarks took a darker turn, becoming insidious comments about Harry's parents and his godfather, all delivered in her sickeningly sweet and falsely angelic voice.
Harry's stoicism held firm in the face of these provocations, but Hermione, intimately familiar with his character, sensed the fraying edge of his temper. The bi-weekly walk to Defense class had become a ritual of Harry mentally preparing himself for Umbridge's inevitable barrage of snide commentary.
When Harry's temper finally snapped, Hermione knew it was only a matter of time. While he had significantly improved his ability to control his temper, even the most even-tempered person could endure only so much abuse. The final breaking point, when it came, was both spectacular and regrettable in its seriousness.
The incident unfolded as Defense class neared its end, with Umbridge attempting, somewhat ineffectively as usual, to expound on the merits and limitations of various shielding spells. Privately, Hermione, having heard Auror Moody speak on the same subject, recognized a few inaccuracies in Umbridge's explanations. However, she chose not to interject at the moment, planning to discuss the topic with Harry and address it in the next Defense Club meeting.
"Very well, class. I believe you are now very well educated in the subject of shield charms," Umbridge concluded, adopting a self-congratulatory tone that suggested she deemed herself an effective teacher. "What about the Unforgivable Curses?"
Blank looks met her seemingly unrelated question. She huffed slightly before elaborating, "Can a shield charm block an Unforgivable?"
Silence lingered in response, a common occurrence in her class where students hesitated to draw attention to themselves or drifted into boredom. Eventually, Dean Thomas raised his hand.
"It is well known that no shield is capable of stopping an Unforgivable," he stated once she granted permission to speak.
"Very good, Mr. Thomas," she praised. "That is correct—no one has ever been able to develop a shield that will stop an Unforgivable Curse. So what do you do if someone casts one of those curses at you?"
Remembering Mad-Eye's wisdom, Hermione raised her hand and spoke when Umbridge called on her. "The best defense against an Unforgivable is to not be there when it arrives," she said, echoing Harry's response from the summer.
"Are you suggesting that you dodge?"
"Yes," Hermione affirmed. "It is possible to levitate something in the path of the curse, and battle Transfiguration is always a possibility, but that takes a lot of skill, and the timing can be very tricky."
To her side, Harry raised his hand, a slightly mischievous expression on his face setting off alarm bells in Hermione's mind. When Umbridge motioned for Harry to speak, he did so in a guileless and innocent tone that almost caused Hermione, who knew him well, to break into giggles.
"But Professor Umbridge, didn't you tell us in our first class that we are safe? How can we be safe if people are casting Unforgivables at us?"
Umbridge, visibly vexed by his question, struggled to find a way to attack him or refute his words, which, despite a hint of insolence, were nothing but the unvarnished truth.
"I believe we are speaking hypothetically, Mr. Potter," was her prim reply.
"Well, in that case, speaking hypothetically," Harry emphasized the word, "given your other comments during our first class, I suspect that if someone casts an Unforgivable at us, then we should wait for the Aurors to show up and take care of the matter. Is that not correct?"
Umbridge's eyes burned with intensity, as though she could sear holes into Harry if she had the power to do so. A swift glance at Harry told Hermione that he hadn't lost the poker face he had almost perfected for the class. Once again, Hermione, who knew him better than anyone, could instantly tell that he was relishing the opportunity to bait the professor, offering a bit of payback for the countless times she had taunted him.
However, that's when everything began to unravel.
"If I recall correctly, Mr. Potter, you have a considerable amount of experience with the Unforgivable Curses."
"If you count getting hit by them experience, then I suppose that I am an expert," said Harry in a dry tone of voice.
"Yes, the Boy-Who-Lived and all of that."
"Indeed," Harry agreed. "I do have a complete set of them, but I really don't like to talk about it very much."
"Really, Mr. Potter." Now the woman was feigning ignorance. "I know about your Defense Professor from last year and his demonstration of the Imperius curse, but I was unaware that you have ever been the recipient of the Cruciatus."
Harry stared nonchalantly back at the woman. "As I have stated, my experiences with the Unforgivables are well documented, Professor. I would prefer not to discuss them any further."
"Of course," she soothed in her breathy voice. "But tell me, Mr. Potter—do you have as much experience casting the Unforgivable Curses as you have being hit by them?"
Instantly, a mask of impassivity settled over Harry's countenance, his features turning rigid and unyielding. "I fail to comprehend the implications of your insinuations, Professor Umbridge."
Umbridge, ever the picture of false congeniality, continued to press, seemingly oblivious to the growing tension in the room. "Considering the tragic outcome of the Triwizard Tournament and the peculiar circumstances surrounding your return, it's only natural to question the veracity of your account, Mr. Potter. After all, you and your, ahem, companion were the sole participants in that perilous event."
"Cedric Diggory," Harry interjected, his voice carrying an undertone of restrained anger, "was more than a mere companion. He was a friend, a brave soul who met an untimely demise. I implore you to treat his memory with the respect it deserves."
Umbridge affected an exaggerated expression of sympathy. "Oh, I do sympathize with the Diggorys, truly I do. Losing a child is an unimaginable tragedy. However, one cannot help but wonder about the peculiar circumstances. Two boys go, one returns—"
"Cedric's death was a result of treachery, not some fabrication on my part," Harry retorted, his jaw clenched. Hermione, standing nearby, felt the tension in the air and tried to subtly ease Harry's escalating anger with a reassuring touch.
Umbridge, undeterred, continued to weave her web of insinuations. "But how can we be certain, Mr. Potter? I mean, was the Prior Incantato spell ever performed on your wand that fateful night? It's a simple question, really."
Harry's eyes narrowed, a storm brewing behind them. "Your implications are baseless, Professor. My word is as true as the magic that binds us all. There's no need for such unwarranted suspicion."
The room, once a mere spectator to this verbal sparring, now hung in a charged silence. Even Hermione, usually quick-witted, found herself grappling with the intensity of the exchange. The air crackled with an unspoken challenge, and as Umbridge maintained her facade of innocence, Harry struggled to contain the torrent of emotions threatening to overflow.
The weight of scrutiny bore down on the trio, and in that charged moment, it became apparent that this confrontation held implications beyond the immediate exchange of words—a clash of ideologies, a battle for truth, and an undercurrent of tension that would reverberate through the corridors of Hogwarts.
Umbridge's interruption was met with an icy stare from Harry, who remained unmoved by her attempt to shift the focus. "Your insinuations are baseless, Professor," he retorted, refusing to be sidetracked by her feigned curiosity.
Undeterred, Umbridge continued her line of questioning, her tone retaining a faux sweetness. "I was merely contemplating the challenges you face, Mr. Potter. It must be a heavy burden, knowing that those around you seem to meet unfortunate ends quite frequently."
Harry's gaze remained steely, his patience wearing thin. Umbridge, now ticking off names on her fingers, continued her calculated assault. "Your parents, Professor Quirrel in your first year, and then, of course, Cedric Diggory last year. It seems you have quite the body count attached to your name."
The dam of Harry's composure finally burst, and he snapped back with a venomous retort. "My parents were murdered by a madman, and you have no right to speak of them. Professor Quirrel was possessed, and Cedric Diggory was a victim of the same traitor who betrayed my parents. If you had an ounce of sense, you'd have subjected me to Veritaserum and investigated instead of playing ostrich with your head in the sand!"
Umbridge, far from being offended, reveled in the confrontation, her triumph evident in her unyielding smile. "Detention for a month, Mr. Potter, starting tomorrow after the Halloween feast. I knew your troublemaking tendencies would surface sooner or later."
"Good luck," Harry spat in response, but Umbridge had already turned away, seemingly unconcerned. The news of Harry's clash with the High Inquisitor spread like wildfire throughout Hogwarts, and the ensuing whispers and glances marked him as the newest target for gossip.
As Harry trudged through the echoing hallways of Hogwarts alongside Hermione and Fleur, on his way to the Headmaster's office, a sense of chagrin and subdued frustration hung over him. The realization that he had fallen into Umbridge's trap and earned himself a month of detentions gnawed at him. The news had spread through the school, making Malfoy more insufferable than ever. However, Harry, surprisingly, found himself indifferent to Malfoy's taunts, as the Slytherin had nothing worth hearing. The weight of impending detentions hung over him, but beneath the surface, a steely determination simmered, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Harry found solace in the unwavering support of his friends, especially Hermione and Fleur, who had been pillars of loyalty and care during the trying times in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Yet, despite their encouragement, a lingering sense of disappointment in himself gnawed at Harry. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had let them down by succumbing to his temper.
As they approached the Headmaster's office, the gargoyle seemed almost expectant, shifting aside to grant them access. Seated in Dumbledore's office, the Headmaster regarded them with stern yet amused eyes, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
"Am I to understand you've had a confrontation with the Defense Professor, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired without preamble, his keen eyes assessing the situation.
Harry, feeling a twinge of sheepishness, lowered his gaze, grappling with the regret of losing his temper. However, a simmering determination fueled him, a resolve not to tolerate such mistreatment of himself or his friends any longer. Lifting his gaze, he met Dumbledore's eyes unflinchingly.
"Yes, I have, Professor. But I don't apologize for it. She had it coming," Harry asserted, his voice holding a steely edge.
Dumbledore, his lips pursed, appeared to ponder the situation. "I daresay she did, Harry," he replied after a moment, his gaze momentarily distant as if reflecting on something. "In fact, I do not doubt that she has deserved it since long before she arrived at this school. But regardless of whether or not she deserved it, we will now need to handle the situation as it is. I believe that Jean-Sebastian should be involved in this conversation."
With a decisive motion, Dumbledore rose from his chair and approached the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, he called the Ambassador's Manor and engaged in a brief conversation through the fire. Stepping back, he made way for Fleur's father, Jean-Sebastian, who emerged through the flames.
Fleur stood to embrace her father, their affectionate reunion evident. Jean-Sebastian, in turn, greeted the others, shaking Harry's hand and offering a friendly slap on the back. The atmosphere shifted as the group settled, and a serious discussion unfolded, delving into the events of the afternoon in Defense class. The Headmaster's office became a forum for collaboration, where the challenges posed by Umbridge's actions were met with a united front, as plans were laid out and decisions made in the face of adversity.
Harry, fueled by his determination to hold Umbridge accountable for her actions, stood tall as he recounted the events that led to the impromptu conference in Dumbledore's office. Despite the burning desire to unleash a verbal tirade against the woman who was single-handedly tarnishing the school year for him, he restrained himself, sticking to the unassailable facts. The weight of those facts, he knew, would be enough to condemn Umbridge in the eyes of everyone present.
As Harry concluded his narrative, he observed the contemplative posture of Jean-Sebastian, who leaned back in his chair, deep in consideration. Dumbledore's gaze, momentarily distant, suggested that the Headmaster was engaged in his own introspection. A pang of guilt tugged at Harry for allowing Umbridge to provoke him, leading to the current situation. Yet, a resolute part of him dismissed the guilt, acknowledging that he had endured the woman's venom for almost two months before succumbing to her taunts.
"Well, Headmaster," Jean-Sebastian spoke after a brief silence, "the ball appears to be in your court, as the Muggles would say. Given what has transpired with this woman, I believe it is time to remove her from the school. I am only surprised that she has not been as cruel to Fleur as she has been to Harry."
Dumbledore, stroking his beard thoughtfully, seemed to agree. "I concur with you, Jean-Sebastian. However, rather than a direct confrontation, I believe a touch of subtlety may be warranted in this situation."
Curiosity etched on his features, Jean-Sebastian inquired, "What do you mean, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore leaned forward, his eyes carrying a spark of wisdom. "Umbridge has proven to be adept at manipulating situations to her advantage. A direct confrontation may play into her hands. Instead, we need to gather evidence, build a case against her, and expose her actions to the appropriate authorities. It is a delicate dance, my friends, but one that will ensure justice is served without giving her room to retaliate."
The room fell into a thoughtful silence as the weight of Dumbledore's words sank in, and the trio—Harry, Hermione, and Fleur—found themselves drawn into a chess game of strategy and cunning, each move calculated to bring about the downfall of the woman who had become a menace within the walls of Hogwarts.
Dumbledore's response held a sense of both authority and caution. "It is not in question whether I could physically remove Madam Umbridge from the school—as Headmaster and having control over it and the wards, I could banish her easily if I so chose. But we all know what the result of that action would be."
"And how much control over the school does Fudge possess?" inquired Jean-Sebastian.
"Not as much as he would like to believe," Dumbledore said with a knowing smile. "While he is the head of the Ministry, and thus oversees all its departments, including Education, the Department of Magical Education maintains responsibility for the school, with its head holding the ultimate authority. Jonus Berrens, the current department head, has been in his position for many years, enjoying popularity and competence. Fudge, despite his position, has been unable to dismiss him due to their mutual animosity."
Fleur's father nodded thoughtfully. "So, if Fudge decides to move against Umbridge, he may have to contend with the department head as well as yourself."
Dumbledore responded with uncertainty. "I am uncertain. Fudge may feel emboldened in his position, or he may replace Umbridge with someone else. As the children likely know, Madam Umbridge is not the most... competent individual."
Harry couldn't help but snort at the statement. "I'm a fifth year, and I'm pretty positive that I could beat her easily in a duel."
Dumbledore acknowledged with a twinkle in his eye. "I do not doubt you could, Mr. Potter. Her performance in the subject during her time at this school was so abysmal that it's a wonder she left with an OWL at all."
"But," Dumbledore continued, "I was more referring to her general abilities. I believe much of what she does is based on spur-of-the-moment impulses and actions that are, at best, ill-thought-out. While I would prefer to see her removed, I also hesitate to have the Minister replace her with someone far more competent or sinister. We need a delicate approach to ensure the best outcome for Hogwarts and its students."
Dumbledore's voice carried a sense of measured consideration as he continued, "As for the possibility of removing me—I could potentially fight it in the Wizengamot, and I believe that I would likely succeed. However, the condition of the Wizengamot is currently such that victory is by no means assured. Thus, I would prefer to have some airtight means to remove Umbridge from the school, which would then allow me to bring in someone of my own choice to fill the position."
Jean-Sebastian regarded the Headmaster with a hint of speculation. "What is it that you propose, Headmaster?"
"Simply that we allow Harry to attend this detention with the Defense Professor."
A thoughtful silence enveloped the room as Jean-Sebastian shrewdly eyed Dumbledore. Harry, too, was somewhat surprised by the suggestion. He knew that the Headmaster wouldn't make such a proposal without a well-thought-out plan, especially after Dumbledore had already dismissed a detention handed out by Umbridge. This signaled a serious shift in strategy.
"Please continue—I must admit I am intrigued," Jean-Sebastian finally said.
"We all know that Umbridge wants Harry in detention. But what we don't know is why," Dumbledore explained. Despite their attempts to thwart her plans for Harry's detention, the motive behind Umbridge's insistence remained a mystery.
"This is an opportunity for us to find out why," Dumbledore continued.
Jean-Sebastian posed a critical question, "And what of Umbridge? How far do you think she may go to prove her point, whatever it is?"
"That's just it, Ambassador," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eye. "I do not believe Harry would be in any overt danger. However, I suspect that given her methods thus far—such as detention for speaking in class—she is likely to go further than she ought, which could potentially give us more ammunition to see her removed from the school."
Jean-Sebastian pondered the matter before expressing his unease. "I believe I see your point, Headmaster. Still, I am uneasy about exposing Harry—we are talking about essentially using him as bait."
"With all due respect," Harry spoke up, "I've been in the firing line ever since I arrived at Hogwarts. I hardly think that a pudgy, pink toad is more dangerous than any of the other situations I've faced."
Jean-Sebastian's face bore an amused smirk as he acknowledged Harry's statement. "I suppose you have at that, Harry." He then redirected his attention to Dumbledore, anticipating the details of the plan.
"We allow Harry to go to the detention with a monitoring charm on him," explained Dumbledore. "You and I will listen in while Harry is in his detention and step in if Umbridge goes too far. Then, based on whatever she tries, we can plan our next steps accordingly."
Harry observed Jean-Sebastian closely, noticing that the Ambassador's eyes never wavered from Dumbledore's face. There was a suspicion, a silent question lingering in Jean-Sebastian's gaze. The Ambassador vocalized his thoughts with a direct question.
"Let us not beat around the bush, Headmaster. What do you suspect?"
Dumbledore sighed, a weighty acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. "I will not lie to you—any of you," he began, his gaze sweeping across the room. "I firmly believe, given her behavior and the Minister's displeasure with how the trial proceeded, that Madam Umbridge will make every attempt to cow you, Harry. Whether she believes that you are also the key to ruining my reputation, I am not certain. However, I do not believe that she will merely have you write lines tonight or anything so benign; I am certain she has something more in mind.
"She may also feel that provoking you to a reaction—which you have finally given her today—is a necessary step in whatever plans she has for this school. Now that she has managed to place you in detention, I believe that we shall see her next move very quickly.
"Finally, I suspect that she anticipates my interference in your detention and likely has some plan in mind to counter me if I intervene. If I do nothing, she will likely assume that you either did not approach me to appeal, or more likely, she will believe that we feel there is nothing which can be done about this detention. In either case, she will be overconfident, leading her to be less careful than she should. We can use this against her."
"And if she doesn't do anything to incriminate herself?" Jean-Sebastian inquired, his curiosity evident.
Dumbledore's response was pragmatic. "Then at that point, we consider the situation again and continue our attempts to remove her through other means. At the very least, if enough students come forward and complain about her class, that, together with her lack of the appropriate credentials necessary to teach the class, may be enough to remove her."
Jean-Sebastian, deferring to Harry, expressed his belief. "I believe this is your decision, Harry. You are the one who will be with the woman, so your opinion is the most important."
Harry felt a surge of gratitude for being given a say in the matter—a rare occurrence in his life. It underscored the changes of the previous summer, making the newfound respect feel more tangible. Despite the gravity of the situation, he didn't fear Umbridge; to him, she was more of an irritant and a hindrance to his learning. If this plan offered an opportunity to rid the school of her, he was all for it.
"I think we should do it," Harry voiced his decision, noting the shared looks of slight trepidation mixed with pride from Hermione and Fleur.
Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "Very well. I believe that we should place the monitoring charm on you ahead of time to avoid arousing suspicion."
Hermione offered a practical suggestion, "Perhaps we shouldn't meet in your office then, Headmaster."
"An excellent suggestion, Miss Granger," Dumbledore acknowledged. "We shall arrange to meet a few hours in advance of the evening meal, which should help throw off any spies she has watching you. I shall set up the charm and tie it to a dicta quill to obtain a record of every word you exchange with her."
With the plan solidified, the group dispersed. Jean-Sebastian bid his farewells in Dumbledore's office, opting not to be seen at Hogwarts to keep Umbridge in the dark about their plans. Though Harry knew he was her primary target, he was determined to see her removed, even if it meant enduring discomfort in the process. The collective resolve was clear—the mission to oust Umbridge had been set in motion, and they were prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
The trio left Dumbledore's office, making their way toward the Great Hall while engaged in quiet conversation. Hermione and Fleur had expressed their intention to be near the Defense Against the Dark Arts office the following evening, not only to offer support but also to be available if needed. Harry, while doubting the likelihood of any overt actions from Umbridge, appreciated their care and concern.
As they approached the Great Hall, Dumbledore's prediction proved accurate—the next move from Umbridge was already in motion. Students gathered around the entrance, examining the increasing number of Educational Decrees posted. Ron and Neville motioned for the trio to join them, and upon reaching them, Ron wordlessly pointed to a new decree hanging prominently to the right of the entrance.
Educational Decree No. 23 Delores Jane Umbridge has been appointed to the post of Hogwarts High Inquisitor.
The group exchanged glances, a shared understanding passing between them. Harry gestured for them to move inside the Great Hall, seeking the relative security and noise.
Once seated among their friends, including Luna, who had taken to joining the Gryffindor table for most meals, they served themselves as conversation began to flow.
"Harry, we heard you got detention today," one of the twins remarked.
"It was pretty spectacular," added Neville with a grin. "He didn't say anything I haven't wanted to say for the past two months."
"So did you talk to Dumbledore?" inquired the second twin, curiosity evident in his tone.
Harry observed Umbridge's smug grin from the head table and, avoiding any overt reaction, raised his fork to his mouth. When questioned about his detention, he offered a succinct response, "It's handled. That's all I'm going to say."
The group mostly nodded, respecting his decision not to divulge more. The Great Hall, with Umbridge's watchful eyes, was not the place for such discussions. Fleur then inquired about the role of a 'High Inquisitor,' prompting Hermione's concerned response, "I'm not sure, but if Umbridge was appointed to it, it can't be good for us." Agreement murmured through the group, and conversation dwindled as they focused on their meals.
The next day, the students were about to discover exactly what the role of a High Inquisitor entailed. In their Tuesday morning classes of Charms and Transfiguration, Umbridge made an unexpected entrance into the Transfiguration classroom, wearing her perpetual smile.
Professor McGonagall, clearly displeased with the intrusion, addressed her, "Professor Umbridge, as you can see, I am teaching a class now. Whatever you are here concerning, it can wait until class is over."
Umbridge responded in her affected, girlish voice, "You mistake my presence, Deputy Headmistress. I am here merely to observe, so you may continue your class as you normally would."
McGonagall's expression intensified with severity. "Observe? Whatever for?"
Umbridge's simpering smile widened. "Perhaps you have not read the most recent Educational decree, but I have been made the High Inquisitor over this school."
"I did read it," McGonagall responded, impatience evident. "What of it? I think most of the school does not even know what the position is, let alone what it means."
"Why, Professor," Umbridge laughed in her girlish manner, "do you not remember my words at the opening feast? The standards of this school have sadly dropped, and it is my job to once again make it the glorious institution it once was. I had intended to simply observe and implement any suggestions slowly, but my observations, not to mention recent events," she smirked at Harry, "have dictated a more active approach. Everything must be inspected and either improved or rejected, and that includes anything from the curriculum to the professors."
If looks could kill, Harry was certain that Umbridge would be a pink puddle oozing over the floor. However, McGonagall merely sniffed with disdain before responding, "Very well, but if you must be in my class, you will sit quietly and not interrupt."
"I have no intention of interrupting, my dear Minerva," Umbridge said affably. "However, I would suggest you modify your tone and choice of words before your superior."
McGonagall's eyebrow rose at this statement, but she chose not to respond to Umbridge's assertion. To those familiar with the Transfiguration Professor, it was evident that she had dismissed Umbridge as not worth her time and energy, despite the toad-like woman's apparent smugness.
"I guess we know now what a High Inquisitor is," Hermione whispered to Harry.
Harry nodded in agreement, but their quiet exchange did not escape Umbridge's notice.
"I see you have the same set of whisperers in your class as I have in mine," she said brightly.
Professor McGonagall turned to face Umbridge, her expression unreadable. The pink-clad woman met her gaze with equal composure. "I believe they should be punished—discipline is paramount, as you know."
Despite her apparent reluctance, McGonagall turned her attention to Harry and Hermione. "That will be two points each from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger. In the future, please be certain to raise your hand if you have something to say."
During the class, Umbridge's smug expression diminished as McGonagall found reasons to award both Harry and Hermione points for correctly answered questions and successful transfigurations. By the end of the class, the two-point deductions had been more than compensated for by the ten points each they earned, leaving Harry feeling self-satisfied at the thwarting of Umbridge's manipulations. He couldn't help but smile as she left the classroom with her nose held high.
Later that afternoon, Harry met with the Headmaster in an unused classroom after his last class to have the monitoring charm placed. The Halloween feast, although much like previous years, held little enthusiasm for Harry. On this anniversary of his parents' deaths, it was not a day for celebration. His friends offered sympathies and support, allowing him to eat in silence. Unfortunately, it seemed to be a recurring theme since his return to the Wizarding world—something always happened on Halloween.
Umbridge's bright, cheery voice greeted him as he arrived after the feast. He entered the classroom, noting the gleeful expression of self-righteous smugness on the Defense Professor's face. Patience was a struggle, and he restrained himself to approach her desk and wait for her to speak.
She remained silent for several moments, seemingly content to watch him, perhaps hoping he would squirm under her scrutiny. However, Harry was not in the mood to indulge her; he stood patiently, waiting for her to break the silence.
"Do you know why you are here, Mr. Potter?" she eventually asked.
"Presumably because I spoke out in class?" he replied.
"That is only a small measure of your transgressions, Mr. Potter. Yes, you spoke out in class when you should have held your tongue, but though you have controlled yourself to a certain extent since I arrived in this school, I have witnessed several times where you almost burst out in a most improper manner."
"Due to your constant baiting." Harry kept his countenance, knowing that losing his temper here would not help his case. The woman's behavior had been atrocious, and he was determined to ensure her timely and irrevocable departure from the castle.
She continued, her expression revealing her disappointment that Harry did not respond as expected. "Beyond your more obvious faults, there is the matter of your insistence on stating that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned. The Ministry cannot countenance your continued attempts to sow discord and fear by asserting such an impossibility. You-Know-Who has been gone these past fourteen years and shall not return. What do you say to that?"
"I've already said everything I am going to say," responded Harry. "You can refuse to believe me, and you can deny me the use of the magical tools available to verify the truth. But that doesn't change anything."
"Your arrogance apparently knows no bounds, Mr. Potter."
Harry smiled thinly. "A certain potions master of my acquaintance is constantly making that claim. I don't care about your opinion any more than I care about his."
"Perhaps Professor Snape sees more clearly than most."
"Or perhaps he's just a greasy git who holds a grudge against my father," retorted Harry.
Umbridge peered at him through narrowed eyes. "You seem to think that the world owes you something, Mr. Potter, and that you are somehow above the rules set down for us all. My aim is to show you that you are not as great and untouchable as you like to think. For the good of our people, your constant lies must be stopped."
"You cannot punish me for stating my beliefs," said Harry.
"I can punish you for anything I want," snapped Umbridge. "I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic himself! I am also the High Inquisitor for this school! Your precious Headmaster cannot stop me, nor can anyone else, as I have the full backing of the Ministry in this matter."
Harry refrained from pointing out that not everyone at the Ministry was as blind and foolish as she and Fudge had proven themselves to be. By now, he hoped he had antagonized her enough that if she wasn't already planning something beyond what she could get away with, he might have provoked her into it. Thus, he merely sneered in her direction.
"Well then, what punishment do you have for me?"
A feral smile lit up her face. "You shall write lines, Mr. Potter."
"Lines?" Harry asked with a raised brow. "Is that all?"
"Oh, I don't think you will act so glibly when I am finished with you. You shall write 'I must not tell lies' for the rest of the evening while you are with me. Perhaps repeating it several hundred times will imprint it into your memory, as well as... other places..."
Throwing her a look reserved for the petty—or the stupid—Harry sat down at a nearby desk and began rummaging through his pack for the required tools.
"Close your bag, Mr. Potter—you will not need anything there."
"Do you intend me to write lines with my finger?" snarked Harry.
"That will be another two weeks detention added to your punishment, Mr. Potter. Any further outbursts will result in even more punishment being levied out. At this rate, you may be in detention with me every night until Easter."
"As if," Harry grumbled under his breath.
Umbridge, however, took no notice. "You will use one of my special quills for this detention.
"Should I retrieve some ink from my pack, Professor?"
A gleam entered her eye, and her smile became even more unpleasant. "Oh, I think you will find that you do not need any ink. Just begin to write with that quill—There will be no more delays."
Her gleeful expression told Harry that there was something he did not understand—or perhaps did not know—which was at play here. The woman had just announced that he was to use a quill without ink, after all, and had he not known of her sadistic streak, he would have thought that she was barmy at the very least. There was something else going on here, but whatever it was he had no time to ponder it.
"Remember, 'I must not tell lies' will be your phrase for this evening."
"How about 'I must not tell the truth?'" asked Harry. "That's what this situation is, you know."
"Two more weeks detention!" Umbridge squealed. "I will break you of this pathological need to lie, Potter, if it's the last thing I do!"
"What are you doing, Potter? I said silence!" "I don't care what you said! You're torturing me!" Harry shouted, his frustration and anger boiling over. "You're not fit to be a teacher, and you certainly have no right to be using dark magic on students!" Umbridge's eyes flashed with fury, but she retained her infuriatingly pleasant tone. "Another month's detention and a hundred points from Gryffindor!" "I don't care!" Harry yelled, his vision blurring with a mixture of pain, anger, and a sense of helplessness. "Do whatever you want, but I won't let you break me!" Umbridge, unfazed by Harry's defiance, continued to issue more punishments and deductions. The pain in Harry's hand intensified, and the pink outline on the back of his hand deepened in color. As the quill scratched across the parchment, Harry's determination burned brighter.
In the meantime, unbeknownst to Umbridge, the monitoring charm placed on Harry was working as intended. Dumbledore and Jean-Sebastian, concealed in a location where they could observe the events without being seen, listened to the entire exchange. Dumbledore's eyes held a mixture of concern and a fierce determination to put an end to this abuse. Jean-Sebastian, his features tight with controlled anger, gripped his wand, ready to intervene if things went too far.
The atmosphere in the room crackled with tension, setting the stage for a confrontation that would have far-reaching consequences for Hogwarts and its denizens.
Top of Form
Harry, his hand aching and the pink lines now visible on the back of it, immediately dropped the quill. He looked up at Jean-Sebastian and Dumbledore with a mixture of relief and frustration. Umbridge, on the other hand, wore a triumphant smile.
"Headmaster, Ambassador, I am merely disciplining Mr. Potter for his constant lies and insolence," Umbridge stated with false sweetness.
Dumbledore's eyes were piercing as he addressed her, "I believe the disciplinary actions have gone far enough, Dolores. It is time for Mr. Potter to be released."
Umbridge's expression soured, but she complied, leaning back in her chair as if she had nothing to hide.
Jean-Sebastian, however, spoke with a controlled anger, "I demand an explanation for the use of dark magic on a student, and the mistreatment he endured."
Dumbledore stepped forward, his presence commanding attention, "Dolores, what you have done here is unacceptable. The use of dark magic on a student is a grave breach of trust and ethics. I'm afraid I cannot allow this to continue."
Umbridge's eyes flickered with defiance, but Dumbledore continued, "Mr. Potter, you are dismissed. Please leave this room. Ambassador Delacour, I believe we should discuss this matter further in private."
Harry, his hand throbbing and the pink lines a stark reminder of the ordeal, left the room, feeling a mix of exhaustion and anger. He knew this confrontation was just the beginning, and the consequences would reverberate through the school.
As the door closed behind Harry, the conversation inside the room continued, each word carrying weight in the escalating conflict between Hogwarts' authority figures and a power-hungry bureaucrat.
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