On God?

Chapter 32

in which she fractures her knee

Everyone bolted towards the doors to the Room of Requirement, pushing and shoving desperately to get out first.

"Harry, Blair, come on!" Hermione shrieked from where she was, and Harry bent down to pick up Dobby as I darted to fling on the sweater Theo had gotten me for Christmas.

"Dobby-this is an order-get back down to the kitchen with the other elves and, if she asks you whether you warned me, lie and say no!" said Harry. "And I forbid you to hurt yourself!" he added, dropping the elf as he made it over the threshold at last and slammed the door behind him, pulling me along by the sleeve.

"We'll get to the library-say we were studyi-"

Something caught us around the ankles and we fell, skidding for six feet before coming to a halt. Someone behind us was laughing. After we had been tripped, I had hit my knee on the ground, hard, and I could feel it throbbing, and I bit back tears. That hurt like a buttcheek on a stick. I rolled over onto my back and saw Draco concealed in a niche beneath an ugly dragon‐shaped vase.

"Oh, when I get my hands on that weasel-" I growled, moving to stand up before Draco pointed his wand at me, but I wouldn't have been able to move much closer to him, as my knee gave out, and I would've hit the floor if it weren't for Harry.

"Trip Jinx, Potter. Stevens!" He said. "Hey Professor ‐ PROFESSOR! Iʹve got one!"

Umbridge came bustling round the far corner, breathless but wearing a delighted smile.

"Itʹs them!" She said jubilantly at the sight of Harry holding me up. "Excellent, Draco, excellent, oh, very good ‐ fifty points to Slytherin! Iʹll take him from here... stand up, Potter!"

"You know, you're awarding my house by giving him points!" I said through gritted teeth.

Harry helped me get stabilized, but had to let go once Umbridge seized his (and my) arm in a vice‐like grip and turned, beaming broadly, to Draco.

"You hop along and see if you can round up any more of them, Draco." she said. "Tell the others to look in the library-anybody out of breath-check the bathrooms, Miss Parkinson can do the girlsʹ ones-off you go-and you..." she added in her softest, most dangerous voice, as Draco walked away, "You two can come with me to the Headmasters office."

She dragged us along to Dumbledore's office, ignoring how bad my limp as getting, until I was using the wall for support to stand as we approached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Fizzing Whizzbee." Umbridge sang; the stone gargoyle jumped aside, the wall behind split open, and we ascended the moving stone staircase. The three of us reached the polished door with the griffin knocker, but Umbridge did not bother to knock, she strode straight inside, still holding tight to Harry and myself, who was desperately trying to stay upright.

The office was full of people. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face extremely tense, eyes going to my knee as it threatened to buckle again. A portly, balding man who I was pretty sure was Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, was rocking backwards and forwards on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation; Kingsley Shacklebolt and a tough‐looking wizard with very short wiry hair whom I did not recognise, were positioned either side of the door like guards, and a freckled, bespectacled redhead who I could only assume was Percy Weasley hovered excitedly beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes.

Harry and I both pulled ourselves free of her grasp, and I made my way over to an unoccupied chair, not daring to sit but leaning heavily on it.

"Anyone have any advil? Though I doubt it'll help." I muttered.