Chapter Twenty-One: One Professor Down
That evening the entire group met together at dinner. Fred and George came in towards the end and shoved food onto their plates without a word. Then, once they had finished, Harish got up and the others followed.
"We were just watching the Gryffindor team's practice," Fred informed him.
"And our team looks bad without us," George continued, "but nowhere near as bad as the Gryffindor team."
"That's a relief," Harish said.
They started down the steps to the dungeons.
"You know, Quidditch was about the only thing in this place worth staying for," Fred grumbled.
Hermione shot him a stern look.
"You've got exams coming!"
"Told you already, we're not fussed about NEWT's," Fred said. "The Snackboxes are ready to roll, we found out how to get rid of those boils, just a couple of drops of murtlap essence sorts them."
"I discovered it," Harish said, holding up a finger.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
The match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was short. The Gryffindor spectators had to endure only twenty-two minutes of agony. It was hard to say what the worst thing was: Neville thought it was a close-run contest between Ron's fourteenth failed save, Sloper missing the Bludger but hitting Angelina in the mouth with his bat, and Kirke shrieking and falling backward off his broom as Zacharias Smith zoomed at him carrying the Quaffle. The miracle was that Gryffindor only lost by ten points: Dean managed to snatch the Snitch from right under Hufflepuff Seeker Summerby's nose, so that the final score was two hundred and forty versus two hundred and thirty.
"Good catch," Neville had said to Dean after the match.
"I was lucky," he shrugged. "It wasn't a very fast Snitch and Summerby's got a cold, he sneezed and closed his eyes at exactly the wrong moment."
But the good thing was, even though Hufflepuff had won and was now catching up, the Slytherins were still in the lead. Harish was glad of this, because if Hufflepuff had scored enough points to put them ahead of Slytherin, Harish would have lost his mind. The only thing worse than having to watch his team play without you was to watch his team lose. It didn't help that this was his last year at Hogwarts and he had been the Captain of the team.
It was infuriating enough that Umbridge had been sitting on a few rows below Harish, Hermione, Daphne, and the twins. Once or twice she had turned squatly in her seat to look at him, her toad-like mouth stretched in what had to have been a wide, gloating smile. The memory of it made Harish seethe with anger.
He stared out the window for a long time, angry at Hogwarts in general. Then, when he and the twins turned in for the night, he said to them, "We need to escape from this place soon, or I'll lose my mind."
The next morning they entered the Great Hall at the exact same moment as the post owls. Hermione was no longer the only person eagerly awaiting her Daily Prophet: Nearly everyone was eager for more news about the escaped Death Eaters, who, despite many sightings, had still not been caught. There were some Slytherins that didn't care, but there were others that checked to make sure the Death Eaters hadnot been caught.
But this time, Hermione was not awaiting the Prophet for that reason, but another entirely. She had tasked Rita Skeeter with finding any dirt she could on Dumbledore. Then, she had allowed Rita to give the story to the Prophet as long as she wrote a rubbish story about Fudge for The Quibbler.
Hermione gave the delivery owl a Knut and unfolded the newspaper eagerly while Harish helped himself to some orange juice. Then, he was forced to pull his glass away from the table as an owl landed where it had been moments before. He pulled a long cylindrical package off of its leg and ripped off the brown packaging.
Out rolled a furled copy of March's edition of The Quibbler. He unrolled it to see Fudge scowling out at everyone at the table. In large red letters across the picture were the words:
Cornelius Fudge: Reliable or Deceitful?
"It's good, isn't it?" Luna asked, who had drifted over to the Slytherin table and now squeezed herself between Ginny and Hermione. "It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send you a free copy."
While Hermione began to read Rita's article in the Prophet, Harish tackled the story about Fudge in The Quibbler.
Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge has been discovered to be deceitful, weak, and a hopeless leader. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about the way Cornelius Fudge runs our society, which casts doubts on whether he should remain in his position of power or not. There are several factors that say he should not. Cornelius Fudge has been overstepping his bounds and tampering with the running of Magical Britain's most prestigious school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; the Minister of Magic's depletion of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; and inevitably, the Ministry's failure to apprehend first Sirius Black, and now nine convicted Death Eaters.
Hogwarts is run by Headmaster Dumbledore, the Wizarding Examination Authority, and the Board of Governors. Starting at the top, the Board of Governors are in charge of appointing both Headmasters of Hogwarts and Head Chairmen of the Wizarding Examination Authority. The Wizarding Examination Authority are in charge of core curriculum and giving the students standard examinations in their core classes. Headmaster Dumbledore is tasked with appointing teachers, setting standards for extra-curricular classes, and making sure that school rules are obeyed.
Fudge overstepped his bounds by appointing Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The appointment of a teacher by the Ministry, when approved by the Board of Governors, is acceptable. However, it is not acceptable when that person that is appointed already has a full time job in the Ministry. Dolores Umbridge could very well be charged with neglecting of duty.
On top of that, eye-witnesses within the castle itself report that Umbridge, under orders from Minister Fudge, has not only been overriding the power of the Governors, but has been illegally using a blood contract implement on students, a fact which is certainly frowned upon.
Another thing that has recently come to light is the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Once a large, great force, our aurors now number less than one hundred in total. This is alarming for as most know, the aurors serve not only as our law enforcement, but our army and detective service as well. The sudden decrease in aurors, caused by a large depletion of funds over the years, has made the force weak and unable to do the simplest things.
A very good case of this is the Ministry's failure to capture Sirius Black. Convicted of the murder of thirteen Muggles with a single curse, it is not doubted that Black is a dangerous wizard. He escaped Azkaban prison over two years ago and the Minister has still failed to comprehend him. Not only that, but has now failed to capture nine escaped convicts.
So this brings up the question: Is Fudge really helping the Wizarding Community, or is he bringing it to ruin?
After he finished reading the article about Fudge, he handed the edition of The Quibbler to Hermione. As she handed him the Daily Prophet, she said, "Apparently she found so much information that she decided to write a book on Dumbledore rather than just an article."
Dumbledore—The Truth at Last?
Coming in six months, the shocking story of the flawed genius considered by many to be the greatest wizard of his generation. Stripping away the popular image of serene, silver-bearded wisdom, Rita Skeeter reveals the disturbed childhood, the lawless youth, and lifelong feuds, and the guilty secrets that Dumbledore has buried under a façade of light.
The details to those are explored in the explosive new biography, The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, by Rita Skeeter, exclusively interviewed by Betty Braithwaite, page 13, inside.
"What have you got there, Mrs. Granger?" came a simpering voice.
They all looked up, startled, to see Professor Umbridge leaning over their table.
"It's a copy of The Quibbler, professor," Hermione replied, trying to shove it out of sight.
But Umbridge was too fast for her, she grabbed the article and read aloud, "'Cornelius Fudge: Reliable or Deceitful?'"
She stared down at the picture of Fudge, her pale, doughy face turning an ugly, patchy violet.
"How you dare…how you could…" she took a deep breath. "I have tried again and again to teach you children to do as you are told…No matter…"
She stalked away, clutching The Quibbler to her chest, the eyes of many student following her.
By mid-morning enormous signs had been put up all over the school, not just on House notice boards, but in the corridors and classrooms as well.
—BY ORDER OF—
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts
Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven
The first time he saw one, Harish had laughed out loud, earning a confused look from Draco.
"What are you so happy about?" he had asked.
"Don't you understand?" Harish retorted. "If she could have done one thing to make absolutely sure that every single person in this school will read the article, it was banning it!"
And it seemed that Harish was quite right. By the end of that day, though Draco had not seen so much as a corner of The Quibbler anywhere in the school, every student seemed to be quoting it to each other; they could be heard whispering about it as they queued up for classes, discussing it over lunch and in the back of lessons, while Hermione even reported that every occupant of the cubicles in the girls' toilets had been talking about it when she nipped in there before Ancient Runes.
"And when they spotted me, and obviously they know I know Draco, whose father works in the Ministry, so they were bombarding me with questions," Hermione told Harish with shining eyes.
"And you thought of this yourself?" Harish asked. "Turning the entire Wizarding population against our enemies with one article?"
For it was true. Students now knew exactly what Fudge was, and had been, doing and were openly sharing their views on it. There were some that either did not believe Fudge was doing those things intentionally, or they suspected that the Quibbler was over exaggerating them. But most knew that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was too small. They knew that Umbridge was using blood quills as a punishment. They knew that it was the Board of Governors' job to run the school and make new rules, not the Ministry's. From this, they determined that everything that article had said was true and no longer trusted their Minister of Magic.
Meanwhile Professor Umbridge was stalking school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets. It was obvious she was looking for copies of The Quibbler, but the students were several steps ahead of her. The pages carrying the article on Fudge had been bewitched to resemble extracts from textbooks if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to peruse it again. Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it.
To cap it all, Luna told Harish over dinner that no copy of The Quibbler had ever sold out faster,
"Dad's reprinting!" she told them, her eyes popping excitedly. "He can't seem to believe it, he says people seem even more interested in this than the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks!"
And that night, the twins had daringly put an Enlargement Charm on the front cover of The Quibbler and hung it on the wall, so that Fudge's head glared down at them all. They had made th headline flash different colors, changing from saying, "Cornelius Fudge: Reliable or Deceitful?" to things like "The Minister is a Moron" and "Eat Dung Umbridge."
But even though students were forbidden to read the article, their parents were not. Concerned parents were sending Howlers and angry letters to Umbridge. After the first morning of Howlers, Umbridge stopped showing up for meals all together.
While this boosted the morale of the students, it also seemed to make Umbridge even more determined than ever to achieve a sacking. And they got results nearly three weeks after The Quibbler had issued an article about the corruptness of their Minister of Magic.
Harish and the twins were demonstrating yet another joke product, taking up orders for it. Hermione, Draco, and Daphne were working on homework together on a couch nearby, and Ginny was petting Crookshanks, watching the twins. Suddenly everyone fell silent when they heard the screams of a woman.
"What's that?" Harish asked, cocking his head. "What's going on?"
Suddenly the entrance to the common room opened and a face poked in, saying, "You might want to come see this," with a grin.
Within a few minutes, all of the Slytherins had exited the dungeons and were pressing into the now packed Entrance Hall. The onlookers had formed a great ring, and the Slytherins pushed their way into it until they could see what was going on at the center. Professor McGonagall was directly opposite of the hall; she looked as though what she was watching made her feel faintly sick.
Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her; one of them upside down; it looked very much as thought it had been thrown down the stairs after her. Professor Trelawney was staring, apparently terrified, at something at the foot of the stairs that the Slytherins could not see.
"No!" she shrieked. "NO! This cannot be happening…It cannot…I refuse to accept it!"
"You didn't realize this was coming?" a high girlish voice asked, sounding callously amused, and Harish, moving to the right, saw it was Professor Umbridge. "Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must have surely realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?"
"You c-can't!" Trelawney howled, tears streaming down her face behind her enormous lenses, "you c-can't sack me! I've been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"
"It was your home," Umbridge retorted with a wide smiled, "until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."
But she stood and watched with an expression of gloating enjoyment, as Professor Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking backward and forward on her trunk in paroxysms of grief. Then, McGonagall had broken away from the spectators and marched straight up to Trelawney, patting her firmly on the back while withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes.
"There, there, Sybill…Calm down…It's not as bad as you think, now…You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…"
"Oh, really, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge asked in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. "And your authority for that statement is…"
"That would be mine," said a deep voice.
The oak front doors had swung open. Students beside them scuttled out of the way as Dumbledore appeared in the entrance. What he had been doing out in the grounds, no one knew, but there was something impressive about the sight of him framed in the doorway against an oddly misty night. Leaving the doors wide behind him, he strode toward the place where Trelawney sat, tearstained and trembling, upon her trunk, McGonagall alongside her.
"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" Umbridge countered with an unpleasant laugh. "I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here"—she pulled a parchment from within her robes—"an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three—"
"Yes, yes, you are quite right," Dumbledore interrupted with a smile. "You have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, I am afraid, have the authority to force them to leave the castle. That," he went on with a courteous little bow, "is a power that still resides with the headmaster and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."
"No—no, I'll go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortuned elsewhere—"
"No," Dumbledore said sharply. "It is my wish that you remain, Sybill."
He turned to McGonagall.
"Might I ask you to escort Sybill back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"
"Of course," McGonagall replied. "Up you get, Sybill…"
Professor Sprout came hurrying forward and grabbed her other arm. Flitwick joined them and following with a squeak of, "Locomotor trunks!" and Professor Trelawney's trunks followed them.
Umbridge was still staring at Dumbledore, who continued to smile.
"And what," she said in a whisper that could be heard throughout the hall, "Are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"
"Oh, that won't be a problem," Dumbledore replied pleasantly. "You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."
"You've found—" Umbridge asked shrilly. "You've found? Must I remind you that under Education Decree Twenty-two—"
"—the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if—and only if—the headmaster fails to produce one. Which, I am happy to say, I have. May I introduce you?"
He turned to face the open front doors, through which night mist was now drifting. There was the sound of hooves. Then, through the mist came the body of a horse—followed by a man's torso.
"This is Firenze," Dumbledore said happily to a thunderstruck Umbridge. "I think you'll find him suitable."