At the festive dinner, I noticed Professor Grubbly-Plank among the teachers at the table and felt a bit disappointed that, having refused Hagrid, I wouldn't be able to attend her Care of Magical Creatures classes either. Though Hagrid will return soon anyway. But what interested me most right now was Dolores Umbridge.
A plump, curly-haired blonde, all in pink, with a wide smile constantly appearing on her round, slightly puffy face. Eyes somewhat bulging, sickeningly sweet facial expressions, but in principle, nothing obviously toad-like yet. Though if a woman is an impossible bitch, then even with more attractive appearance, people around will find repulsive features in her. Same thing with Snape - externally he's more or less an ordinary guy, but most students sincerely consider him a hideous monster.
Umbridge is giving a speech - her voice is really nasty, but my classmates clearly don't care about her speech. The guys are chatting about something, or rather, Justin and Zacharias are chatting while Neville politely listens. The girls are looking at photos of Cassiopeia Black and cooing. At this age, all girls find babies adorable. Except older sisters who have their own like that at home and are already fed up. But Cassie really is charming. Big blue eyes - not bright blue as often happens, but really blue-blue, like Sirius's. Black long eyelashes - also after daddy, and light hair - after mommy, and curly - after both parents. Her facial features are still childish - round cheeks, plump lips, little nose - but of course, everyone manages to see family Black features there and Rita's features too.
Hannah and Zacharias became our prefects, but if anything happens, any older Hufflepuff student will help them, unlike in Gryffindor. There everything will fall on poor Parvati's shoulders, because there's little hope from Ron. The canonical Granger could make him work, but I'm not sure about poor Patil.
I was solving an important task: I needed to choose three friends who, together with my family, would be untouchable for the Flint family. Those I wanted to protect from them, at least, were more than three. Susan and Aunt Amelia, Hannah, Neville, Luna, Harry, Sirius, Rita, Cassie...
Well, not that many. But that doesn't make the choice easier.
Susan - definitely. She's my best friend and she's under threat because of her aunt.
Cassie is in no danger, she's pure-blood and she's always in the Black house, where there's serious protection. In extreme cases, she'll be at the Black family's summer house on the coast. And she's a child, and hopefully there's no prophecy about her. Just like that, even the deranged Voldemort doesn't kill children. So I don't need to ask for her.
I talked with Hannah - if anything happens, they'll lock her up in the Abbott estate, her family is also pure-blood and neutral. So Hannah is much less under threat than Susan and Luna.
Luna is under threat because her father might start printing articles about Death Eaters in the Quibbler. Though Luna herself is no slouch - she could easily get herself in trouble on her own.
If something happens to Aunt Amelia, the absence of Flints among the attackers won't save her. Such a serious witch would be killed by large forces. So asking for her is useless.
Potter will probably want to be killed by Voldemort personally, so including him in the list also makes no sense.
Sirius and Rita... Now they're both under threat and both could get into trouble, albeit for different reasons. It makes sense, but they're already adults. And I can't even fit children into the list...
As a result of long agonizing deliberations, I chose: Susan, Neville, Luna. And sent an owl to the Flints. But I still remained dissatisfied with my choice. There's hardly a choice I would be satisfied with.
***
The first months pass quite peacefully. We greet Umbridge in chorus in Defense Against the Dark Arts and diligently copy the textbook throughout the entire lesson. You have to do this slowly enough so you don't sit idle when the chapter ends and don't attract unnecessary attention. Cedric sent letters to several Hufflepuff students in the first week advising them to sit quietly and not stick out while the big people sort things out among themselves - so we don't accidentally get caught in the crossfire. And he asked to spread the information quietly throughout the entire house. He's now working at the Ministry with his father and knows much better than us what's going on there.
So we sit and don't stick out, unlike Potter. Harry got himself detentions and now periodically walks around with a bleeding hand. I supplied him with healing salve and asked him not to provoke trouble, but it seems Potter is a masochist. Once I went to his head of house because Harry himself was silent like a proud partisan. But McGonagall didn't live up to my expectations. She only pressed her lips together disappointedly and promised to talk to Mr. Potter once more about being more careful. I asked if the headmaster knows? I got no answer, but judging by the averted gaze - he knows. Well, I did everything I could. That is, I could have written to Sirius, but Harry won't forgive me for such interference. And it probably wouldn't help anyway. Azkaban taught Sirius nothing, he still trusts the headmaster more than himself. I definitely won't write to the board of governors - I won't expose myself because of Potter's stubbornness - no thanks, his life isn't threatened yet.
Sirius is all worked up - we have no way to check whether our explosion destroyed the cup or not. Something will become clear only in case of the Lestranges' escape, then we can find out through Snape whether Bellatrix will go mad because of the cup. Though she will anyway, there wasn't only the cup in the vault. We need to find out if Tom will go mad. Black understands this, but waiting by the sea for good weather is hard for him.
I trained independently in charms and with Luna in Occlumency. But the latter soon reached a dead end. If I didn't resist, Luna perfectly found what was required in my memory - for example, an astronomy lesson, and unlike Snape, she acted gently and carefully, it didn't hurt me at all. But she couldn't break through my shields. Not even the first one. She could sense muffled brain-whispers, that is, emotions even through shields - she can even feel Snape's brain-whispers, and according to her, he's always with shields. But she doesn't see clear pictures. However, the book says that defending is always easier than attacking, because it's your head, after all. And I've been studying for five years, while Luna only started last year.
I think Luna's gift will be invaluable for medical purposes, but for attacks she's too gentle and not aggressive, and training with her at this stage won't work. It would be good to find someone as strong as Dumbledore, but without personal motives. Dream on...
So we mainly trained "conversation." Besides pictures and numbers, we rehearsed the most important signals: danger, run, need help, left, right, behind, all clear, meet at rally point, it's a trap, person is wounded, and so on... Won't hurt.
I mastered sending messages with a Patronus and sent one to Sirius as a test - to understand how far it reaches, and now his silvery dog constantly brings me new jokes. We have paired parchments, but Sirius finds this more interesting. But unfortunately, my parents can't see my Patronus. Though I asked Black not to send his dog during the day, yesterday in Charms his Grim barked right under Flitwick's nose in Sirius's voice: "Hey, Hermione, here's a joke: They lived long and happily until they got married! Ha-ha-ha-ha." What a troublemaker, he could have not mentioned the name. Everyone's looking at me, and I'm sitting there crimson.
"Miss Granger, you clearly have something to do with this, so five points from Hufflepuff and ask Mr. Black to tell jokes after classes next time."
"Sorry, Professor Flitwick," - I'm freezing at the thought that this could have happened in Umbridge's class.
Well, Sirius! I wonder what's going on with them again? Last time the spouses were arguing about choosing godparents for their daughter. Both wanted strong wizards, but for godmother Sirius suggested Andromeda, while Rita wanted Narcissa, and for godfather Sirius wanted Lupin, while Rita wanted anyone but Lupin.
I decided that Harry absolutely needs to master the talking Patronus, so Voldemort has fewer opportunities to fool him. Besides, this stage is much easier than the first. I spent many months trying to create a corporeal Patronus, but once it worked, all difficulties disappeared. I just remembered that feeling and concentrate on it. It no longer requires feeling such all-consuming happiness every time as was needed for my first little creature. And to send a message, you just dictate the text to the Patronus and concentrate on the image of the interlocutor. In principle, logical. If wizards had to feel so happy every time, normal communication by Patronuses would be doomed to failure.
From the very first lessons, professors started scaring us with O.W.L.s and began assigning much more than in previous years. So the level of my essays dropped to the minimally passable. I don't see the point in expanding a thought that fits in two sentences to twenty inches. Instead, I'm now engaged in an extremely intellectual activity. Chaotically waving my wand in the Room of Requirement, trying to find the right movement for Sectumsempra. I know the word, but not the movement. How can I get that textbook later? Though... no way. Now Snape watches his cabinets like a hawk, and Slughorn will be in sixth year, where I won't be anymore. Sectumsempra finally worked. I look at the mannikin cut to pieces. Powerful. Much cooler than Diffindo. And accuracy is less important - at least one of the magical "blades" will hit the victim. I spend a couple more minutes figuring out which exact movement worked.
After repeating it fifty times, I started thinking about what spell to learn next. Need something for combat. I've already mastered the school curriculum spells, and with Madam Pomfrey I've mastered practically all spells used by average and junior medical staff, including the spell against constipation. No, that wasn't my idea, but Madam Pomfrey is an experienced person, she knows which spells medical workers use most often. It simply makes the contents of the intestines disappear - lucky magical nurses, no enemas or bedpans. And in general, much more convenient: no need to manually move bedridden patients, no need to dress and wash them manually, no need to apply stitches and casts manually - everything is done with spells or potions.
Here's a profession the wizarding world lacks - psychotherapist. If the doctor is also a Legilimens, no one will understand you better. Such a doctor can not only understand you but also work in your head, not erasing traumatic memories but simply making them less important, breaking some associative connections so they don't come to mind at every occasion. In general, mental magic has many possibilities, but unfortunately, wizards more often use it for evil rather than good: they erase memory, confuse with Confundus, enslave with Imperius...
And wizards don't have surgeons either. They don't need them - in most cases, spells and potions replace them. Though something like coronary bypass or stenting is impossible to do with spells and potions. But heart problems for wizards are nonsense - magic itself heals such things. Eh, how useful potions would be for ordinary surgeons - no problems with tissue healing and scars after surgery.
I wonder, would plastic surgeons be in demand among wizards? Currently, a wizard can change appearance with Polyjuice, but that's only for one-two hours depending on potion quality, and drinking it constantly is harmful. Aging potions are only needed by very young wizards or spies. Glamour charms are more like makeup artist-makeup services. Would anyone want to change forever or is everyone satisfied? Judging by how Flint sought meetings with dentists, not everyone is satisfied.
Umbridge invented a new position for herself - High Inquisitor - honestly, soon she'll have more positions than Dumbledore, especially since the latter was removed from the post of Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. And now the squeaky voice pursues us in all lessons that her majesty the inspector decides to inspect.
***
Slowly but surely Christmas was approaching, and everything was calm... not counting Potter's suffering with Umbridge. Looking at his hand without tears is impossible, but adults refuse to help with anything except healing potions (Madam Pomfrey) and advice to be careful (Professor McGonagall). Harry isn't even a kitten that eats cactus, he's a kitten that tries to throw himself at a circular saw.
I almost believed that the first half-year would pass without incidents, but completely without incidents never happens at Hogwarts. The pink toad temporarily finished with the teaching staff and decided to switch to students. Everyone without exception needs their nerves frayed, and here's so many people still uncovered. Umbridge caught me in the corridor among the first, I suspect as an acquaintance of Harry Potter. If she gives me her sadomasochistic quill, I'll break it and even apologize afterwards, saying that from hand pain my arms and legs start involuntarily jerking, I can't help myself.
No, instead of the quill she poured me tea. And my ring reacts. I bring the cup to my lips, pretending to drink, and carefully inhale the smell - notes of lavender and vanilla, this is just a babbling potion, not Veritaserum. Nothing illegal, it turns out. Though if she had uncontrollably given children Veritaserum, we could have gotten a small squad of idiots upon graduating from Hogwarts. With frequent use, it's a terribly harmful thing. You can resist babbling potion with willpower, but it's better not to risk it.
"What interesting tea," I say to fill the pause, "very unusual..."
"Drink up, Miss Granger," Umbridge peers into my cup with a predatory smile.
"Oh, I happen to have candies for tea with me," I say with a joyful smile, reaching into my bag and getting another package from Sirius, conveniently grabbing my wand in my sleeve, "help yourself, Professor Umbridge!"
The toad looks at the candies favorably - of course, it's an expensive box and made by wizards. Yes, now I also think she looks like a toad, though at first meeting I didn't think so. I again bring the cup to my lips with both hands and cast Evanesco on half the liquid right through my sleeve. So, remembering the symptoms of someone who took the potion: relaxed appearance, smile, sweeping movements and, of course, the desire to answer any questions verbosely and in raised tones.
Umbridge looked contentedly into my half-empty cup, then at me, and got down to business:
"What can you tell me about Harry Potter, Miss Granger?"
"Oh, this year Harry and I hardly communicate, you understand, we have O.W.L.s coming up, so much still needs to be learned. I'm so worried! And teachers this year assign much more, I can barely manage to do all the essays, even my grades for them have dropped, and I'm very upset!" I chatter loudly and with feeling, I'm being carried forward, but clearly not where Umbridge needs.
"And Harry Potter..." she tries to set me on the right path.
"And Harry Potter, Professor Umbridge, seems not even to understand what an important stage this is in his life - O.W.L.s!" I say indignantly, "he's such a talented wizard, could be a straight-A student, but he's lazy, so he's just average in academic performance. I don't understand how one can treat studies like this, because one needs to realize their potential to the maximum. And Harry - he's so unserious sometimes, prefers to play chess or fly on his broom with friends instead of devoting more time to homework..."
"When did Harry Potter join the conspiracy against the Minister of Magic?" Umbridge ran out of patience.
"Is there really a conspiracy?" I jump on my chair from curiosity, "that's terrible! I hope Minister Fudge will quickly sort everything out! And what does Harry have to do with it?" I say, continuing to chew candy. I hope looking at this is disgusting, I shouldn't be the only one suffering from the squeaky voice.
"Harry Potter is one of the conspirators!" the Toad slammed me sharply.
"No way, it can't be!" I spilled tea on the table from emotions, "but this is Harry! Harry is still little, at our age no one is interested in politics yet. We need to study and spend time with friends, or fall in love with someone," I giggled stupidly, "And adults will figure it out without us! Really, Harry could study better, on first and second year you could still relax, but now we have O.W.L.s," I pretend to finish my tea with another Evanesco, "and Harry seems not even thinking about which subjects he'll take in sixth year..."
Obviously, Umbridge decided I was a study-obsessed girl, and there was as much use from me as milk from a goat, so she didn't even bring up Dumbledore, and with a smile escorted me to the door. She kept the candies, by the way, and there was still half a box left.
As soon as the door slammed shut, the smile immediately slid off my face. My cheeks managed to hurt while I smiled at Umbridge with all my twenty-eight teeth. I turn around and run into Snape:
"Follow me, Miss Granger."
What is this, not a minute of peace. Should I ask to go to the bathroom? Though you can only escape from the bathroom through the window. Well, let's not escalate the conflict, for the last year and a half he doesn't seem to be trying to harm me.
"Show your hands, Miss Granger," Snape demanded as soon as we were in his office.
I was surprised and at first didn't understand why. However, my inaction was interpreted as distrust, so the professor rolled his eyes and explained:
"I merely want to give you improved bubotuber pus."
"Thank you, sir," I show my hands, "I didn't write any lines."
"And what were you doing at Umbridge's?"
"Drinking tea with babbling potion."
"Hmm... and did you manage to babble much? Though what am I saying, when you get going, nothing can shut you up even without potion. But interesting, on what topic?"
"On the topic of Harry Potter, of course. And why didn't you ever offer Harry improved tincture?"
"Because Potter is our hero," Snape says with a nasty smile, "and heroes are supposed to suffer and overcome."
Come on, are you serious? What are you, thirteen? What a nasty type you are, Professor. This was probably quite reflected on my face.
"I'm aware that you helped Potter. And I'm aware that Professor McGonagall spoke with him several times about the benefits of caution and restraint. If Potter so enjoys spending time inflicting injuries on himself, that's his problem. I'm not going to waste improved tincture on him."
Well, there's some truth in his words, of course, but...
"Next time before visiting the High Inquisitor, put a bezoar in your cheek."
"Thank you, sir, definitely," and really, excellent advice. True, then it'll be awkward to chatter, but if you find a small stone... And hide it behind your cheek before visiting Dumbledore too.
"You may go, Miss Granger... By the way," he stopped me, "I wanted to inform you that your Occlumency lessons with Miss Lovegood are a waste of time. Miss Lovegood is talented, but she's only just started learning, and you'll be able to fully train defense with her help only in a few years."
I look at Snape in surprise. Does he want to offer me private lessons?
"Goodbye, Miss Granger," no, he doesn't. Apparently, he just wanted to inform us that we're doing nonsense. Treats inflated self-esteem. Like all other students in this school, except Slytherins.
"Goodbye, sir."
I wanted to ask him how Voldemort looks now, but didn't dare.