Oleandra discreetly studied Professor Umbridge as she waited for the lesson to begin, and upon closer inspection, the teacher looked just as squat and as barrel-chested as she'd appeared from a distance. She really seemed to cherish that pink cardigan of hers, because she was wearing the exact same outfit that she'd worn at the feast the previous evening.
"Well, good afternoon!" Professor Umbridge said in that little girlish voice of hers, once everyone had settled into their chairs.
It had not been a good afternoon so far, and neither did Oleandra particularly want to wish a good afternoon to the woman standing at the front of the class, so she held her tongue. While the other students had still retained the ability to say whichever words first popped into their heads, unlike Oleandra, not many of them responded to Professor Umbridge's greeting.
"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply, 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
A chorus of 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,' arose.
"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
Well, that settled it. Today would mark the year's most boring day. At the very least, the worst had already come to pass, so it would be smooth sailing from here… Right?
The class collectively reached into their bags to retrieve their writing implements, while Professor Umbridge retrieved her wand from her purse and gave a sharp rap with it on the blackboard, causing the following words to appear:
Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles
And then the following appeared:
Course Aims:
Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher changed every year; according to Professor Umbridge, this had caused the passing of knowledge to become fragmented and students' foundations on the subject to become fragile.
And so, she was making them start from the beginning… again. Except… When exactly would they be learning magic in all of this? Nowhere in the course aims did it state that they would be doing magic!
Hermione evidently wanted to know the answer to this problem, so instead of reading page five of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard like they'd been asked to, she raised her hand up high to ask— it was just too bad that Professor Umbridge was pretending that she could not see her.
Meanwhile, it was Oleandra's first time opening the book in question, so she flipped through the pages to page five, Chapter One, Basics for Beginners.
…
…
…
It appeared that Mr. Slinkhard believed that the basics did not refer to the most basic of spells; it referred to the notion of knowing one's rights according to Wizarding Law. It ought to have been impossible, but had she just found a subject more boring than History of Magic? After reading a few paragraphs, Oleandra allowed her gaze to wander around the room; there was only so much tedium she could take before her eyelids began to close on their own.
To her surprise, she noticed that Hermione still had her arm in the air. Watching her act of silent protest was just barely more interesting than reading the course material, so by the time Oleandra's gaze fell on her, she found that half of the class was already doing the same. And when the proportion of the class actually reading the course book had dropped to below half, Professor Umbridge finally addressed the elephant in the room.
"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, Miss…?" she asked Hermione, as if she hadn't been ignoring her this entire time.
"Hermione Granger," Hermione responded. "I had a query about your course aims; there's nothing written on the blackboard about actually using defensive spells."
That was an extremely valid point Hermione had just made, Oleandra had to admit. What exactly was this teacher playing at? What was the Ministry of Magic trying to do at Hogwarts?
"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge with a small laugh, as if the very idea of using magic in a magical school was ludicrous. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. Surely you aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
"Please don't call me Shirley," Oleandra muttered to herself by reflex.
But Professor Umbridge had just opened the floodgates. All of a sudden, all of the Gryffindors in class were clamouring in disbelief, and there was little Professor Umbridge could do to stop them from talking all at once.
But it wasn't just the Gryffindors who were outraged; every single Wizard or Witch, no matter how tolerant of the non-magical, possessed a significant amount of pride in the fact that they were part of the privileged few who could use magic. And now, some teacher was telling them they couldn't use their gifts?
Daphne raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss…?" Professor Umbridge said sweetly.
"Daphne Greengrass," she said drily. "What is the point of coming to Hogwarts if not to learn magic? Does the Ministry take us all for Squibs?"
"The Ministry has devised this educational approach within the purview of new priorities that have become apparent in recent years," Professor Umbridge recited robotically. "It is the view of the Ministry that theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your O.W.L.s, which is ultimately the school's goal."
Professor Umbridge was once more buried in a deluge of complaints from her students, but she had become like a broken record; at the merest mention of the dangers awaiting them in the real world, she would fire back that this wasn't the real world, but a classroom.
Never mind the fact that class was supposed to prepare them for the real world. Theory could only get you so far.
"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" said Harry loudly, thrusting his fist in the air.
A slight smile crept onto Professor Umbridge's face.
"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.
"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?"
"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."
"Oh yeah?"
Harry looked as if he was going to explode, and Oleandra suddenly had a very bad feeling about all this.