The Source of Magic

The Mole from the Ministry of Magic

Chapter 6 ~ The Mole from the Ministry of Magic

They had to be up bright and early the following morning for the return to Hogwarts. The Order of the Phoenix were very concerned about safety — particularly Harry's — especially since the Ministry of Magic were protecting no one but themselves. With Arthur Weasley no longer at the Ministry, there was no chance of getting Ministry limousines or Auror protection for the trip to King's Cross. However, Mundungus Fletcher had managed to obtain an old Mini for the Order, which had been given magical protections and modifications. All of their trunks fitted easily into the boot, and the four students found the back seat very spacious — although Harry and Ginny would have preferred a bit more of a squeeze. Dung had made some lame excuse as to why he was unavailable to drive, but Harry suspected it was because Dung was in no hurry to see him again after being caught red-handed thieving valuables from Grimmauld Place.

Remus Lupin picked them up in the Mini, and Mr and Mrs Weasley sat in front with him. Harry appreciated the extra protection, but he wished they would stop turning around to talk so often. All he and Ginny could do was hold hands, and they were going to need to begin the charade of breaking up soon. The trip to the station was quick. The Mini dived in-and-out of traffic with extraordinary ease. Tonks met them at the station with her trademark bubblegum pink hair. She gave Lupin a big hug before greeting the others and helping them load their things onto the luggage trolleys she had brought for them.

Each adult stayed close to one of the students as they hurried them into the station and towards the barrier to platform nine and three-quarters. Lupin, walking next to Harry, said quietly, “Tonks and I will be on the train. If anything unexpected happens, lock the door to your compartment and stay there. There are magical protections on the Hogwarts Express that prevent the doors being opened from the outside.”

Harry nodded. He wondered if they had been warned of an imminent attack. Maybe the Order had a spy, or maybe the information came from Snape via Jason. Or maybe they were just being extra cautious because the Ministry of Magic were like a bunch of useless ostriches with their heads buried firmly in the sand. As soon as they were through the barrier, Mrs Weasley gave them each a hug and kiss, and then they were quickly bundled onto the train. Harry noticed many of the other parents were also looking about the platform nervously, and seemed anxious to get their children onto the train as quickly as possible. Obviously no one had any faith in Fudge and the Ministry; nor did they believe that Voldemort and his Death Eaters had suddenly decided to behave themselves — just because Fudge was pretending they were.

They found an empty compartment and stowed their trunks and animals in the luggage rack before Ginny, Ron, and Hermione headed up to the front of the train towards the prefects' carriage. Hermione was the last to leave.

Turning back towards Harry, she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “It's all on for when we return from the prefects' meeting. Ginny will detain Ron a bit to allow us to get into a convincingly compromising situation before she surprises us en flagrant délit. I'm sure you'll know what to do after all the practice you've had with Ginny for the past month,” she added with a cheeky grin before carefully straightening her Head Girl badge and rushing off after the others.

Harry sat by the window, his eyes fixed on the clouds of dark smoke that billowed endlessly towards him from the engine's smokestack, as he wondered anxiously what the future would bring. His gloomy thoughts were interrupted when the compartment door slid open and Neville Longbottom entered, dragging his trunk. After exchanging greetings, Neville put his things up on the luggage rack and launched into an enthusiastic account of the unusual plants he had raised from seed over the summer. He was just reaching up for one of his seedling containers when they were joined by Luna Lovegood, who greeted them in her usual vague, dreamy way. Neville seemed to forget all about the Chinese Chomping Cabbage he was about to show Harry and instead took Luna's trunk from her and heaved it up onto the luggage rack.

Luna smiled at Neville, who sat down opposite her by the door. Harry noticed that Neville seemed quite interested in Luna. He was listening with interest to the discursive account of her travels with her eccentric father on an expedition high up in the Pyrenees in search of the legendary Long-Haired Snaffle-Footed Snark. Harry couldn't follow Luna's rambling ravings, but Neville seemed absorbed. It looked like Ginny was right about Neville liking Luna, but Harry wasn't sure how Luna felt about Neville; she was such a dreamy one, it was hard to tell.

Harry filtered out Luna's voice as he stared once more out the window at the dark clouds of smoke. The prefects meeting would soon be over, and he was dreading what would happen when Hermione returned, along with Ginny and Ron. Damn it, he was going to have to do the whole thing in front of Neville and Luna — how embarrassing was that going to be? As the minutes ticked by his anxiety increased.

Suddenly the door slid open and Hermione entered. After briefly greeting Neville and Luna, she slid down beside Harry, and said loudly, “Come on, Harry, quick, we only have a few minutes been before Ginny gets back.” Then she began kissing him in earnest. Harry put his arm around Hermione and pulled her close as Neville and Luna gasped in astonishment. But their gasps were nothing compared to Ginny's strident outburst as she rushed through the door and dragged a screaming Hermione away from Harry by the hair. In the doorway, his face white with shock, stood Ron, too dumbfounded to utter a word. Behind him a curious crowd was gathering, staring at the furious red-haired witch, who, having thrown Hermione to the floor, was now laying into Harry, who held his hands up attempting to protect his face from Ginny's ferocious attack.

“You two-timing bastard, Potter!” she shrieked, as she continued to flail away at him. “The minute my back's turned you're snogging that Granger slut for all you're worth. Well, you won't make a fool of me again, that's for sure. Rita Skeeter was dead right about you all along: You're delusional … you think you're god's gift to witches. I suppose you really believe all that rubbish about being the Chosen One. Well you're not my chosen one. I hate you!” she screamed at the top of her voice before pushing her way furiously through the gaggle of onlookers lining the corridor. She was a picture of fury that would have done her mother proud.

Hermione got up from the floor and sat down next to Harry, clucking over his red swollen face. “Forget her, Harry. She's not worth it,” she said comfortingly as she kissed his inflamed cheek. Harry looked up and saw Ron, still standing in the doorway, staring at him with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and disgust at this act of ultimate betrayal by his two best friends. Ron could not have been in on the charade — he obviously believed it was real — why hadn't he been told? Harry looked away; he felt nauseous, not to mention sore.

“Potter!” roared Ron, finally finding his voice as he advanced on Harry, his wand pointing menacingly at his chest.

“Ron, get out of this carriage, now!” yelled Hermione, jumping up and placing herself between Ron and Harry, her own wand pointing threateningly at his face.

“Says who?” snarled Ron. “Pulling Head Girl rank already, are we, Granger?”

But, before Hermione could reply, the train lurched to a sudden stop, throwing Hermione into an empty seat and Ron on top of Neville. Ron got awkwardly to his feet and peered out of the window, along with others, trying to see what was happening. A voice, enhanced by a Sonorous Charm, came from outside the train. It was the voice of a woman — a voice Harry recognised and loathed. Although he could not see her, he immediately knew it was Bellatrix Lestrange.

“There is no need to be alarmed, children,” she said in a harsh, cackling voice. “No one need be harmed. This unscheduled stop concerns one student only: Harry Potter. The Dark Lord has unfinished business with you, Potter, and we are here to take you to him. I advise you to come quietly — simply open the carriage door, step off the train, and no one will be hurt. Or else … well, if you look out the corridor window you will see an enormous giant awaiting my command to charge, and batter down the door. The magical protections on this train will not withstand such an attack of brute force for long. And, if you look on the other side of the train, you will see several dozen Dementors. They are waiting for the giant to smash the door open … so they can enter … and begin their banquet on all the nice little children inside. Have I made myself clear, boy? You have thirty seconds to get off the train before I order the giant to attack.”

Harry jumped to his feet, his wand already in his hand. “No, Harry,” screamed Hermione, “don't believe her; don't —”

But Hermione was drowned out by a voice coming from the train's magical speakers. “This is Professor Lupin. Everyone remain calm and listen carefully: All students, apart from prefects, are to remain in their compartments with the doors locked. Prefects, patrol the carriage corridors and ensure that no one leaves their compartment. Do not permit anyone to open the carriage doors under any circumstances. Do it now!”

Ron rushed towards the door, followed by Harry, who brushed past Hermione. “Petrificus Totalus,” she said pointing her wand and hitting Harry in the back with a Full Body Bind. Ron turned and gasped along with Neville and Luna, as Harry toppled rigidly to the floor. “Sorry, Harry, but I can't let you hand yourself over to Voldemort,” said Hermione apologetically. Turning to Neville and Luna, she said with the full authority of Head Girl, “Don't you dare lift that curse, unless you want to be responsible for his death! Lock the door behind us!” she said, shoving Ron out into the corridor ahead of her.

Harry lay face-up on the floor, unable to move. He heard a distant thudding, which seemed to be coming closer and growing steadily louder. The train began to shudder in time with the enormous thuds. Harry heard Neville's terrified voice. “Blimey, look at that giant, Luna! It's massive; it must be twenty feet tall! And look at the size of the tree it's planning on using as a battering ram. Oh, no! It's coming right towards us … it's headed straight for our carriage door!” he exclaimed in horror. “The Dementors will get us first. Come on, Luna, wands out, we better be ready to hit them with a Patronus Charm,” he said, holding his wand nervously and trying to sound braver than he felt.

The sound of the awful thudding drew nearer and nearer, growing louder and louder until it became deafening. Then suddenly, mysteriously, it simply ceased. Harry held his breath, waiting. What was happening? If only he could see something.

“Gee, I wonder what's happened to the giant?” asked Luna curiously. “Golly! It looks like he's been picked by a flock of Invisible Flapping Flandangoes. Look! They're lifting him higher and higher, but his momentum is going to carry him over the train,” she said, as she and Neville stepped carefully over Harry to get to the outside window of the compartment to try to catch a glimpse of the airborne giant.

“Actually, I don't think it is Invisible Flapping Flandangoes,” said Neville. “It looks like something is pulling the giant's tree up into the air, and he's too stupid to let go. But he won't be able to keep hold of it; he's way too heavy. See, it's slipping from his grasp. This is going to end very badly for the giant. Oh, oh! Look, he's lost his grip!”

Harry heard a furious roar of despair, approaching fast, followed by an enormous crash that shook the ground so violently it seemed for a moment like the train would be thrown from the tracks.

Then, without warning the door slid open and staring down at him was Remus Lupin. “Finite Incantatem,” he said, pointing his wand at Harry and dragging him to his feet. “What happened to you?”

Harry said nothing, but rushed to the window, desperate to see what was happening.

“Err, Hermione, kind of … err, stunned him,” volunteered Neville. “She got him the same way she got me in first year, with the Full Body Bind. Harry was trying get out of the compartment. I think Hermione was worried he might be trying to get off the train.”

“Smart witch, that one,” said Lupin.

“What's happening?” asked Harry tensely.

“Tonks is up the front levitating off all the tree trunks the giant dragged onto the tracks to stop the train. There are four Death Eaters trying to blast one of the doors of the train open, and the Dementors are hovering about on the other side,” replied Lupin, sounding a little nervous.

“Do you think they'll be able to get in?” asked Harry.

“I don't think so. Professor Dumbledore created the enchantments that protect the Hogwarts Express,” he replied.

“Hey, look!” said Neville. “Something strange is happening to the Dementors. It looks like they're being eaten … by … err, it looks like a flock of birds, or something; maybe they're vultures.”

“They're not birds,” said Luna, peering out the window with her large protuberant eyes. “They're angels.”

Neville and Harry snorted, but Lupin was watching them with rapt interest. “Luna, I think you're right,” he said. “They're tiny, like Imps or Leprechauns or Pixies, but their wings are quite different. They're not like insect wings. They look feathery, and their bodies are almost transparent. You can only see them because they are glowing. And it does look like they are eating the Dementors. I've never seen anything like it,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I thought Dementors couldn't be destroyed,” said Harry.

“I certainly thought that — until now. The Patronus Charm shields you from them and drives them away, but it does not harm the Dementors. This magic is unheard of; it's totally amazing. The Dementors are not even attempting to escape; they're just floating about, allowing themselves to be devoured.”

Hermione burst into the compartment, panting. “Professor Lupin, look at the Death Eaters, they've thrown away their wands, and they're … dancing!”

Everyone rushed out to the corridor to look through the window at the astonishing sight of Bellatrix Lestrange dancing energetically with one of the male Death Eaters while the other two males danced together with equal exuberance.

“What on earth are they doing?” asked Harry.

“The Tango, I believe,” replied Lupin. “It's a rather lively dance of Latin American origin. If I'm not mistaken, they have been hit with a very powerful Confundus Charm that will force them to keep dancing until they collapse from exhaustion. The question,” he said, completely puzzled, “is who disposed of the giant, set those tiny angel-like creatures onto the Dementors, and cursed the Death Eaters?”

Hermione looked meaningfully at Harry, raising an eyebrow as they re-entered the compartment. They had just returned to their seats when Ginny entered, and, after a quick glance to make sure Harry was alright, she studiously avoided him. “Err, Professor Lupin, I hope you don't mind, but when you ordered the prefects into the corridors, I stunned some of the Slytherin prefects … I don't trust them. I'm sure some of their parents are Death Eaters. They may even have been told to open the doors when the train stopped.”

“A wise precaution, Ginny,” said Lupin with a smile. “I hadn't thought of that. Since we are not yet at Hogwarts, no house points will be deducted.”

“How many did you get?” asked Hermione.

“Four,” said Ginny. “I couldn't find Parkinson or the new Slytherin seventh-year prefect, Zabini — the one who's replacing Malfoy.”

“I got them,” said Hermione with a grin. “Good work, Ginny.”

“You, too,” said Ginny smiling. Then, noticing the puzzled looks on Luna and Neville's faces, she suddenly remembered and added, “You bloody b***h!” and stormed out of the carriage.

Lupin looked at Hermione, utterly mystified. “What on earth was all that about?”

“Oh, nothing, just a lovers' tiff,” she said sweetly, cuddling up next to Harry.

The train suddenly gave a jolt and lurched forwards. On one side, the enormous giant lay broken on his back. On the other, the four Death Eaters continued to dance furiously, oblivious to everything, including the departing train. Lupin looked at Harry and Hermione, shaking his head and feeling very confused as he left the compartment to check that everything was alright and to revive the stunned Slytherin prefects.

“Ron doesn't know, does he?” asked Harry in a whisper.

“Of course not,” Hermione whispered back. She looked over towards Neville and Luna, but they seemed lost in their own conversation about the attack. “Ron can't act to save his life; he'd never have been convincing if we'd told him.”

“Well, he sure was convincing, not knowing,” said Harry. “It looked like he couldn't decide which one of us to hex first.”

“Oh, I don't know,” murmured Hermione. “I'm pretty sure it was you he was going for.”

“Yeah, and he will again, if someone doesn't tell him it's all an act. Err … who's going to tell him?” asked Harry apprehensively.

“Ginny, of course. He's not going to believe either of us, now is he? Ginny's going to explain the whole plan to him before we get to Hogwarts. So just relax, and try to act like….”

“Like what?” asked Harry softly.

“Like I'm Ginny,” said Hermione, with a grin, grabbing Harry's hand.

“Right,” he said, putting his arm around Hermione, remembering how important it was to convince everyone that he and Ginny had split up. “But please, no more kissing, OK?”

“Why, am I that bad?” whispered Hermione.

“No, it's not that. It just makes me feel really bad, like I'm cheating on Ginny.”

“So, I'm a good snog then, am I?” asked Hermione with a grin. “I just thought I'd get the opinion of an expert.”

“Didn't it hurt when Ginny dragged you off me by the hair?” asked Harry

“No, of course not; we had the whole thing choreographed. I had a numbing spell on my scalp. Didn't you use one on your face?”

“No!” exclaimed Harry. Then seeing Luna and Neville suddenly look towards him, he lowered his voice and whispered, “I didn't know she was going to attack like a tiger, did I?”

“Maybe Ginny thought you were lacking in acting ability, too, and that a surprise attack might elicit a more realistic response. I think she was right; you really looked stunned. It took you quite a while to realise what was happening and start protecting yourself. Your face is a bit of a mess; does it hurt much?”

“Well, of course it does. What do you think?” grumbled Harry.

Hermione pointed her wand at Harry's blotchy red face and muttered a spell, instantly healing it.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “That feels better.”

“And it looks like she got your glasses as well; they're all askew. Oculus Reparo,” she said, waving her wand at Harry's glasses.

“Thanks, Hermione.”

“Err … look, I'm sorry about using the Full Body Bind Curse on you,” said Hermione apologetically. “But, it really looked like you were going to….”

“Yeah, well, I suppose I was. I mean I couldn't just stay on the train to save myself with all those Dementors out there waiting to get in and suck everyone's soul out, could I?”

“Harry, honestly, sometimes you just don't think. The Death Eaters weren't going to put the Dementors on the train to attack indiscriminately. A lot of the Slytherins are children of Death Eaters, and, with all their recruiting, there are probably some in other houses, too. Plus, it would have been a public relations disaster for Voldemort. Even Fudge couldn't cover up a Dementor attack on school children or continue to pretend his policy of détente was working. I'm sorry, Harry, but Bellatrix Lestrange was playing on your noble instincts — and, err, your tendency to not always think rationally. As soon as the giant had smashed in the door to our carriage, the Death Eaters would have come on the train and tried to stun you and drag you away. The Dementors were never going to be ordered onto the train. They were just there for the shock and awe effect.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right, Hermione,” conceded Harry, squeezing her hand. “Thanks; I guess you saved my life. Just remind me never to turn my back on you when you have your wand out,” he added with a smile.

Neither Ron nor Ginny returned to the compartment. They continued their whispered conversation, which might have seemed rude to Neville and Luna, except they were supposed to be an item now, so it was fairly natural. Mostly they talked about the attack. They were both convinced that, unknown to Lupin, Tonks, and the Order, Jason Trolove was on the train and had dealt with the attackers. Hermione thought he probably used nothing more exotic than a very powerful Wingardium Leviosa Charm on the giant's tree trunk to drag him up into the air and allow the stupid giant to be the cause of his own spectacular demise. The charm that left the Death Eaters dancing in a frenzy had Jason's waggish humour written all over it. And then there was the unheard of magic that destroyed the Dementors. Hermione was certain Jason had to be behind that as well.

“You know,” said Harry, “it's taken a while, but I'm starting to feel positive about Jason.”

“I think the whole thing between Jason and your mother set you against him from the start. Plus, he's a bit of a cerebral, sort of spiritual type … very different from your dad and Sirius. I think —”

“And Dumbledore,” said Harry, thoughtfully. “I really felt lost and alone when Dumbledore died — and betrayed when I found out he actually planned it! It's like he's always been there … almost like some god, knowing everything, understanding everyone … understanding me … even when I didn't want to be understood. But more than that, Dumbledore always saw the big picture — of me and Voldemort — what the next step was, and the path I had to follow all the way to the final battle. When Dumbledore died, I felt lost and helpless and alone. Then Jason showed up, and there was this prophecy of my mum's about him, and I thought he would take Dumbledore's place and everything was going to be OK.”

“But no one could take Dumbledore's place; that would be impossible.”

“Right, and when I realised Jason couldn't, I suppose I blamed him — for not being Dumbledore. I just expected too much.”

“Dumbledore was a bit like a god, or at least an incredibly wise man,” reflected Hermione. “He helped you grow up, Harry. He taught you what was truly important — what was worth valuing in life. I think he died satisfied that you would be strong enough to carry on without him. Jason has his own kind of wisdom, but it's different. His wisdom is narrower and more specific, but maybe it's what you need at this point. If he can teach you to connect to the Source, then you will have the power to destroy Voldemort.”

Harry looked for Jason when they arrived at Hogsmeade station, but he couldn't see him anywhere. Soon, he, Hermione, Neville, and Luna were sharing a Thestral-drawn carriage up to the castle. As they got out and made their way into the Entrance Hall, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and gave it a squeeze, reminding him they were not finished yet with their charade. They attracted a lot of inquisitive stares from the other students as they made their way towards the Great Hall. The news that Ginny Weasley had caught her boyfriend — now ex-boyfriend — Harry Potter in a compromising situation with the new Head Girl had rapidly done the rounds on the train, although most of the students were now more preoccupied with the subsequent Death Eater attack. Many of them were still white-faced and visibly shaken.

Harry sat next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table. He noticed Ginny holding court at the top end of the table, surrounded by Lavender, Parvati, and a couple of sixth-year girls who were all shaking their heads disapprovingly and casting scandalised glances in Harry's direction. Ginny was obviously giving a stirring account of his treachery. At the other end of the table, Ron was sitting sullen and silent as he glared harshly at Harry, who knew that it was no act. Despite knowing all the details of Ginny's plan, it did not look like Ron would be forgiving him anytime soon.

“Look!” cried Hermione, pointing to the staff table, “Look who's there!”

Harry looked up and immediately spotted Jason engaged in an animated conversation with Lupin, who was seated between him and Tonks. But why did Hermione sound so shocked? And then he saw her, in her fluffy pink cardigan, sitting next to Professor McGonagall. Delores Umbridge! “You don't suppose she's back as High Inquisitor again, do you?” groaned Harry.

“I'd be surprised if the Ministry of Magic has enough clout these days to pull a stunt like that again,” replied Hermione thoughtfully. “Fudge's kowtowing to Voldemort has cost him and the Ministry their credibility in the wizarding community; the Hogwarts board of governors have a high degree of autonomy. It will be very interesting to find out what that cow Umbridge is actually doing here.”

The sorting ceremony had commenced. It was conducted by the diminutive Professor Flitwick, who was now Deputy Headmaster. Harry was surprised to see there were as many new students as in previous years, and it looked like all the old students were back as well. He thought a lot parents would not let their children return after the attack on Hogwarts and the death of Professor Dumbledore. But then, with the Ministry of Magic protecting only itself, and with the Death Eaters free to intimidate the wizarding community with their recruitment campaign, most parents probably felt their children were safer here than anywhere else.

When the sorting was over and all the little first-years were seated with their new houses, Professor McGonagall rose to address the students. She welcomed them to Hogwarts in her stiff, formal manner — in marked contrast to Professor Dumbledore's usual good-natured levity. “After the events of last year,” she said severely, “security at Hogwarts has been tightened. The castle gates will be locked at dinner time every evening. Students are not permitted to be outside the castle after that time … under any circumstances. There will be a nine o'clock night-time curfew within the castle. All students must remain in their house common room or dormitory after that time and until seven the following morning. If anyone needs to visit the hospital wing or has any other urgent business during the hours of curfew, they will need to obtain written permission from their head of house or one of their Professors — is that understood?” she asked, peering over her glasses and casting a steely gaze upon the assembled students. Harry felt sorry for the little first-years; they must be shaking in their shoes.

After a long silence, she continued in a slightly lighter tone. “It is my pleasure to welcome some new members to the Hogwarts teaching staff. Professor Trolove is our new Potions master,” she said, looking in Jason's direction. He rose briefly to his feet and nodded shyly. Harry noticed he was wearing traditional Professor's robes today rather than his weird Eastern clothes. “And Professor Lupin has kindly consented to return, once more, to the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.”

A loud buzz arose from the older students as Lupin rose and smiled genially. They recalled how it had been revealed by Snape, four years ago, that Professor Lupin was, in fact, a werewolf.

“Professor Lupin is also Head of Gryffindor House,” said the Headmistress, silencing the students. “And Professor Sinistra is now Head of Slytherin House. Our new Transfiguration teacher is Nymphadora Tonks,” she said, nodding in the young witch's direction. Tonks sprang from her seat and gave a friendly wave to the students, who started giggling and chattering about her pink hair and cool appearance. It was quite a contrast to their former Transfiguration teacher, the staid Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall ignored the babble and returned to her seat. She was about to give the command for the feast to begin when Umbridge began pulling furiously at her sleeve. Apparently, Professor McGonagall had overlooked her — and she was demanding her proper welcome. It was equally evident that McGonagall had no intention of obliging her. Umbridge rose to her feet and began ‘hem hemming', obviously intent on providing her own welcome. McGonagall immediately rose to her feet, towering threateningly over the squat, toad-like Umbridge who was forced to resume her seat like an unruly student under the Headmistress' menacing glare.

“Like myself, some of you are probably wondering why Madam Umbridge is, again, with us at Hogwarts. Perhaps she is missing the centaurs,” she said mockingly, raising snorts from the students who knew about Umbridge's run-in with the creatures in the Forbidden Forest two years ago. Umbridge's face turned a bright red. “The Ministry of Magic appear eager for me to appoint Madam Umbridge as a Hogwarts Professor. Firstly, they attempted to have her appointed to the Defence Against the Dark Arts position under Educational Decree Number Twenty-two, which allows the Ministry to select an appropriate candidate in the event that the position cannot be filled. Fortunately for the students of Hogwarts, the position has been filled admirably — along with those of Potions and Transfiguration, which the Ministry next imagined Madam Umbridge capable of teaching.”

Umbridge was muttering and squeaking as she glared angrily at McGonagall, who ignored her completely.

“The Ministry then requested me to appoint Madam Umbridge as a Hogwarts Professor, to teach a new Ministry-concocted subject, imaginatively named: Ministry of Magic Rules, Regulations, and Guide to Good Civic Conduct. However, the Hogwarts Charter clearly stipulates that the school curriculum shall be determined by the Headmaster or Headmistress of the day. I, therefore, declined this crude attempt at gross political interference. I also pointed out to Minister Fudge that Madam Umbridge is particularly unsuited to teaching. During her tenure, two years ago in Defence Against the Dark Arts, the end of year results, at all year levels, were the lowest ever recorded, with the exception of a small group of students known as the DA, who resorted to self-instruction to compensate for her abject incompetence,” said McGonagall, glaring threatening at Umbridge, who continued to get redder and redder, but seemed too intimidated to do more than whimper and whine softly to herself.

“I also questioned the appropriateness of Madam Umbridge teaching students about rules and regulations, given her attempt two years ago to use an Unforgivable Curse on a student at this school, and her admission that she was the one responsible for setting two Dementors upon the same student earlier in the year. Hypocrisy has no place in teaching —”

“Lies, unsubstantiated lies!” cried Umbridge, finally rising to her feet to defend herself. “Potter is a liar! Everyone who reads the Daily Prophet knows about his delusions —”

“But, there were several students in your office at the time, Madam Umbridge,” said McGonagall, glaring at her with such force that Umbridge shrank back down into her seat. “Five of them, apart from Potter, have confirmed this —”

“Unsubstantiated, unproven, and unverified allegations!” blustered Umbridge, weakly, not attempting to rise again.

“Two of the witnesses are Hogwarts prefects; a third is the Head Girl of this school. I am certain they would be most willing to give their testimony at a judicial investigation … should you wish to clear your name of these allegations.”

Umbridge stared down at the table in front of her, whimpering softly to herself. She had been comprehensively and masterfully humiliated by McGonagall, who had not forgotten how she had been set upon and stunned by Ministry Aurors under Umbridge's orders in a near-fatal attack which had left her seriously injured in St. Mungo's. The students from third year up, who remembered Umbridge's reign of terror, firstly as Hogwarts High Inquisitor and then as Headmistress, were laughing with glee.

“Despite their inability to force Madam Umbridge onto the Hogwarts staff, it does appear that regrettably, the Ministry have the right to provide a liaison officer who may conduct seminars for students on matters considered important by the Ministry — such as Ministry of Magic Rules, Regulations, and Guide to Good Civic Conduct. Due to an already full curriculum, I have insisted that attendance at such seminars be on a strictly voluntary basis. Any student interested in attending is invited to place their name on the parchment pinned to the notice board in the Entrance Hall. I would request all students to address her courteously, as Madam, not Professor, Umbridge, as she is not a Hogwarts Professor and carries no authority whatsoever in this school. Well, now that we have cleared up that minor matter, let the feast begin,” said Professor McGonagall, resuming her seat with just the trace of a smug grin on her lips.