Umbridge's taste and appearance were truly unbearable to behold.
She was dressed entirely in pink, her short stature compensated by her considerable width, and she was flashing a nauseating smile at the food in front of her.
"A pancake face, huge eye bags, wrinkles everywhere, and she can't even apply her powder evenly. How old is she, and she's still wearing pink?"
Daphne whispered in Jane Yu's ear. After Theodore emphasized that this newly appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts professor might target Jane, Daphne had immediately added her to her mental blacklist.
"She looks like a toad! And that bow—doesn't it remind you of a fly?"
For some reason, a phrase suddenly popped into Jane's mind: "Pink and tender—how old are you now?"
Feeling both her eyes and thoughts assaulted, Jane quickly averted her gaze and turned to Dumbledore, whose robe was adorned with stars and moons, to cleanse her vision.
In comparison, Jane, who often felt her guardian's attire was eccentric enough, suddenly found stars and moons to be not so bad.
But Jane knew better than to judge a book by its cover.
As long as Umbridge was willing to sign her expulsion notice, then she could be... a good pink toad... a good pink professor.
However, when Jane looked back at the stage, she found her guardian had reached a new height of eccentricity.
"The Ministry of Magic has appointed me to teach you this historic and ancient magical art... Innovation and tradition, progress and regression..."
As Umbridge began her long-winded and meaningless speech, Dumbledore first flipped his beard over his back, then, finding it too flamboyant, pulled it back and tied it into a bow—imitating Umbridge's style.
But he wasn't the only one reaching new heights of eccentricity.
"We need rules, we need regulations, to refine what is encouraging and progressive, and to discard what is..."
To express their dissatisfaction with Umbridge, Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall exchanged a glance and motioned toward her with their mouths. Both witches twisted their eyebrows and lips in unison.
Professor McGonagall, fanning herself to indicate the heat, opened her robe and used a Transfiguration spell to turn it into a cardigan resembling Umbridge's.
Professor Sprout, who never wore makeup, conjured a box of powder from somewhere and began applying it to her face, enlarging her eye bags in the process.
Meanwhile, Divination Professor Trelawney, trembling, picked up a fork to stab at a piece of pie, only to accidentally—or perhaps intentionally—knock her plate over, creating a loud clatter as it hit the table.
Snape's face remained as stiff as ever, his expression grim. His lips were bloodless, and his face was deathly pale, resembling a severely anemic patient, looking even worse than Blaise, who was feigning illness.
"A new term, a new journey, we need to correct our thoughts... and adjust our attitudes..."
Yawns echoed across the four house tables, accompanied by murmurs of conversation.
To be honest, Jane found even Harry's potion essay, which he had used as a distraction earlier, more meaningful than Umbridge's speech.
The long-winded monologue, akin to a lullaby, made Jane's head droop as she struggled to stay awake.
"I've never heard such a dull speech in my life." Draco, who had been maintaining a prefect's demeanor and appeared more mature, finally reverted to his old self. He shook Jane, whose head was nearly in her plate. "Wake up. Have you thought about what to do? You still have to deal with her for who knows how long. My father said—Merlin, why is everyone whispering?"
The newly sorted Slytherins, seeing two prefects also whispering, quickly followed suit, turning the table into a buzz of low murmurs, like a swarm of flies and mosquitoes.
"Doesn't matter," Jane chose to respect Umbridge's destiny as a one-year professor and half-opened one eye. "I'm so sleepy—it's not a big deal. She'll get what's coming to her."
Draco raised an eyebrow. He seemed to want to shake her awake and tell her some secret but held back due to the crowd.
"We're supposed to take the new students to the dormitory later and show them around," he whispered. "Can you lift your head out of your plate? Are you a pig? Do you have to sleep in your bowl too?"
For some reason, he felt like a nagging mother for the first time.
Although his parents had instructed him to behave and follow Jane's lead at school—
He had yet to receive any concrete plans!
"The new students are watching us!" He glanced at the young faces nervously before lowering his head again. "They'll imitate us! Look, that one over there is already using their bowl as a pillow! And that one is practically whispering mouth-to-mouth!"
He wished he could crawl into her ear and catch the sleep bug in her brain.
"On the first day of school, we need to establish the authority of the prefects! Make them quiet, or we'll be dealing with them all term—"
Draco's buzzing came to an abrupt halt.
Because Jane, who was almost fully asleep, waved her hand nonchalantly, and the tongues of the chattering young snakes stuck to their palates—including Draco's.
Thanks to Grindelwald's brilliant teaching.
The young snakes sat with 120% obedience, their eyes fixed on their plates, not speaking or sleeping, each one as upright as a pine tree.
Draco's eyes widened to the size of a house-elf's.
What a simple and unassuming way to establish authority!
Could it be that having no plan was the best plan?
He settled down.
But he soon realized he had celebrated too early.
Because the food in front of Daphne suddenly caught fire, the flames spreading rapidly; meanwhile, Blaise choked so hard he collapsed onto the floor, looking as if he would pass away any second.
"You've gone mad!" Draco jumped up in alarm. "Quick, put out the fire! Madam Pomfrey! The hospital wing—!"
On the first day of school, Draco was forced to deal with all sorts of chaos, and the pride he had felt in becoming a prefect was now matched by his exhaustion.
And when he finally finished handling the mess and went on a legitimate night patrol with Jane, facing a group of young Slytherins caught sneaking out of their dorms—
The new prefect Draco was on the verge of a breakdown.
Of course, Jane, whose sleep time had been forcibly reduced, felt the same.
"""
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