I have disappeared for five months!
Well, now I've reappeared. My deepest gratitude to everyone who is still waiting for this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the related characters. The Harry Potter series is created by JK Rowling. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story… As always…
For reading convenience, the bold parts are excerpts from the original version.
Chapter 5
"That's out of order, Harry," said Hermione as she and Ron joined him in the Great Hall at dinner, "You can't just go and attack a teacher! You could get yourself in loads of trouble and everything."
Having no desire to start a renewed round of argument, Harry kept quiet. He fumbled in his plate without interest while Ron spoke on his other side, "What's the matter with it? In case you haven't noticed, we've been doing something like that ever since Umbridge's first lesson."
"Yes, but there's a difference between staging reasonable rebellions and throwing a book right at her face!" said Hermione hotly, "What if Harry's done her a serious injury? What if she worked out a way of getting him expelled?"
"It's worth it, Hermione," said Harry resignedly, still pondering how on earth he had achieved such heights as to allow his Defensive Magical Theory to make physical contact with the head of a professor. That hapless book was picked up by Hermione amidst the riot succeeding his departure from the classroom, and thus saved from Umbridge's retaliation. Harry genuinely hoped it wasn't.
Ron and Hermione were still saying something or another but Harry didn't catch it for he saw the appearance of three people in the Entrance Hall. The shortest and squattiest of them, who was leading the group, went straight up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff table like a large and angry toad that was about to explode.
Harry was readily prepared when Umbridge dragged him to his feet by the collar and threw him as hard as possible on the floor.
"Potter!" she screamed and the entire Hall fell silent, "How -You! How dare -"
She seemed quite incapable of speech as she stamped her feet and clenched each of her fists in turn as if on the verge of punching the air. Harry had barely scrambled to his feet when he found himself looking straight into the face of Albus Dumbledore, which displayed, not the kindness and merry smile it usually did, but a kind of fierce disapproval that made Harry freeze on the spot. It was a minute before he realised that Dumbledore was staring at Umbridge rather than him.
"I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores," said Dumbledore coldly, his eyes flashing, "Now, Minister, if you are capable of managing your undersecretary so that she does not hurt anyone again, perhaps we can make our way to my office, where we may sit down and talk about this."
It was only then that Harry noticed Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, standing next to Umbridge with Professor McGonagall on his other side. Fudge was frowning whereas Professor McGonagall was glancing at Harry with concern.
"Shall we?" Dumbledore's expression of anger faded away and he gestured at the door. Together he and McGonagall marched towards the Entrance Hall first with Fudge on their heels, leaving Harry alone with a swearing Umbridge trailing behind.
…
In the quiet, secluded circular room of the headmaster's office, around an equally circular table, sat Harry, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Umbridge and Minister Fudge, cups of steaming tea in front of them with self-stirring teaspoons. Umbridge was cursing the tea, Fudge was ignoring it, but Dumbledore was drinking happily and comfortably as if the five of them were picnicking under a tree on a sunny day.
"Well, Dolores, please explain," he spoke to Umbridge, whose head jerked upward at once. She mouthed for a few seconds and began shouting and waving her arms everywhere like a toad that had just undergone an electric shock. Disconnected sentences burst from her lips, blended with many more swearwords and hysterical cries, as she recounted the whole incident of the last Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.
"You seem to be under the impression that Harry here cast a book at your face during the middle of your class," said Dumbledore, nodding hard, when Umbridge paused for breath, "May I inquire about the supporting evidence behind such accusations?"
"Evidence?" spluttered Umbridge, "He was there - I saw him - I saw -"
"You saw?" said Professor McGonagall, eyebrows raised, "You saw? I would like to reiterate that the operating standards of Hogwarts do not generally permit one-sided accounts to justify punishments without credible proof," she glanced at Fudge, who glared back, "As I believe are those of the Ministry and Wizengamot."
It took Umbridge several seconds to digest this.
"What - there - there are students in the - classroom! They also saw -"
"Excellent," Dumbledore smiled, "Now, that's what we've been looking for, isn't it, Dolores?" He addressed Professor McGonagall, "Minerva, if you could please be so kind as to send for them?"
Moments later Professor McGonagall returned with the whole of Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Commandingly as usual, she ordered all the students into neat lines in front of the circular table. Harry could see Ron and Hermione in the group but did not communicate with them. It was essential now to appear calm and undisturbed.
"Now, I would like a few matters explained regarding what took place during your last Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson," said Professor McGonagall, "Please make sure to respond truthfully to my questions, as your answers will be the primary source of evidence when deciding punishment for people concerned."
A triumphant grin began to surface on Umbridge's face at these words. Harry could sense her looking at him and turned promptly away.
"Firstly, has Potter argued with Professor Umbridge during the said lesson?"
Ron raised his hand, "Yes, there was indeed a verbal disagreement between them. It was about Professor Umbridge's educational methods and also about You-Know-Who."
"Verbal?" The grin vanished as Umbridge instantly jumped to her feet, "HE THREW -"
"Dolores -" Dumbledore began, though it was Fudge who silenced her this time.
"Has the argument escalated to a physical confrontation?" Professor McGonagall continued.
Ron shook his head, "No, of course not. Harry wouldn't do that. He wouldn't -"
Harry heard nothing beyond that. Beside him, Umbridge was already at full steam. Bellowing at the top of her voice, she flung her arms in every direction. Gasps and shrieks issued from the crowd of pupils. Dumbledore looked mildly surprised, McGonagall disdainful, but Fudge had frowned.
"Now, calm down, Dolores," he said, extending his hand to force Umbridge back down again and standing up himself, "Apparently, this boy must be in league with Potter or he would not have made such flagrant mistakes. His proclaims should not count as credible evidence against Dolores' case."
"If you say so," replied Ron with a shrug, "Of course, you can question any of us."
"Yes, yes…" said Umbridge breathlessly, "Yes! That's - yes -"
She stared at individual members of the group of assembled students. Her gaze fell upon Lavender Brown.
"You," said Umbridge, pointing a stubby finger at Lavender, "Tell us what happened."
Fudge echoed her, "Yes, tell us!"
Lavender chanced a swift glimpse at Dumbledore, then at McGonagall, and finally at Harry. She opened her mouth once or twice and then looked at Hermione, who looked firmly back.
"No," said Lavender turning her head around to the expectant faces of Umbridge and Fudge, "Harry - didn't make any physical contact with Professor Umbridge. He did row with her - but there was definitely no physical confrontation."
"Did Potter by any chance attack Professor Umbridge by charging a book at her head, Miss Brown?" asked Professor McGonagall. Harry could see Umbridge's face turned red.
"No."
"No?"
A resounding crash filled the room as Umbridge rose up violently once more, causing the chair beneath her to topple. "Then what about my - what about my - forehead?" She jabbed her fingers repeatedly at the place where the book had struck, "Look here, that's where it hit -"
"We could see nothing there, Professor," said Dean Thomas, sounding worried.
Umbridge's eyes bulged. She looked for a moment as though she was about to vomit. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice (Harry was quite amazed that she had not yet yelled herself hoarse), "Is that what really happened, girl?"
"Y-yes."
"Potter did not attack me, you say that?"
"Yes."
"He never -"
"Calm yourself, Dolores," Fudge interrupted impatiently, "You could not possibly deny solid facts," he said to Lavendar and the other students, "You could not possibly dissuade us from making rightful judgements with dim-witted lies. Continued negation will get us nowhere."
"That is, if she is lying, Minister," said Ron, "I can see no reason for you to insist on that."
"What Lavender said is exactly what happened, sir," said Hermione earnestly, motioning to her fellow classmates, "I'd say we would all agree on her testimony."
Everybody nodded, though some did so rather hesitantly.
An unearthly silence permeated the headmaster's office, mingled with a constricted sensation as though a great, invisible fist was closing in from all sides. Umbridge did nothing at first. Nothing. Harry, doubting whether she was in a fit state, looked up in time to see her open her mouth wide - and laughed.
She laughed the same manic, exhilarating laugh she had displayed back in Professor McGonagall's office, her toad-like face distorted by wells of emotions, her arms raised over her head like those of a baboon's, her stubby fingers clenched in stubby fists…
And then, with a deafening thunk, she collapsed onto the floor.
Fudge was shouting, Dumbledore had his wand drawn, but Professor McGonagall immediately charged over and ushered the panicking students out through the door. Harry, eager though he was to see more of the confusion, followed suit.
…
"Thanks," said Harry to the group at large, after Professor McGonagall exited the Gryffindor common room, to which she had left Harry and his classmates standing in the square formation she had organised previously.
"Thanks," he inclined his head particularly at Lavender, "for covering up for me."
Lavender raised her eyebrows, "I'm not saying I believe it, or anything," she said, "I still don't think he's back - I just don't like Umbridge, that's all."
"Well, at least we have one thing in agreement," said Ron happily, "We will do our best to convince you of the other thing then."
Lavender attempted a haughty look but smiled eventually.
…
The common room slowly emptied as night fell. Yawning and stretching, people trudged up the stairs leading to the dormitories, all of them having had a long day. Some were still discussing Umbridge and giggling every now and then.
Beside the fireplace, Harry had just finished his homework and was now savouring the event of the afternoon, by which time Ron glanced up from his parchment at the exact same moment Hermione raised her head from the bundle of wool she was magically knitting. It was as though all three of them had reached an understanding they didn't need to put into words.
"You were brilliant," said Harry.
Hermione shook her head modestly, "You know what we're doing, right? Apart from the ploy to let you off?"
Harry considered for a moment.
"You're trying to stigmatize Umbridge in front of Fudge," he said, "Taking advantage of his presence, showing him how immature she is when coping with Hogwarts business."
Ron nodded wisely, "Yeah, the first step to get rid of Umbridge is to ensure Fudge no longer provides safety nets." He leaned closer and muttered, "Dad's been saying, Fudge is an idiot on most occasions, but he's definitely not going to be stupid on anything he thinks might jeopardise his and the Ministry's authority. Umbridge's been acting way more like a lunatic than Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."
"If she continues on like this," continued Hermione, "It will only be a matter of time before Fudge gets frustrated and shunts her to lesser jobs."
Harry grinned appreciatively, "That's clever of you."
There was a minute's pause.
"How did you persuade them to lie for me?" Harry asked.
"We don't need to persuade them, mate," answered Ron, "Mutual hatred generates almost as much as shared values."
…