𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒇𝒐𝒚 || h.potter

TWENTY-THREE | year 5

THE TOAD WEARING PINK

The four are seated in their normal seats with their Houses, Cassiopeia looked at the teachers who seemed to be quite uncomfortable.

"We have two changes in staffing this year. We are pleased to welcome back Professor GrubblyPlank," announced Dumbledore. "Who will be taking Care magical Creatures while Professor Hagrid is on temporary leave..."

Cassiopeia's eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table where she saw a huge space next to Harry.

"We also wish to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher--Professor Dolores Umbridge," The Headmaster motioned towards Umbridge, wearing all pink from head to toe. It was hurting Cassiopeia's eyes.

"I'm sure I'm not alone in saying good luck, Professor..." joked Dumbledore.

"As usual, our Caretaker Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you--" Dumbledore was cut with a stupid cough.

"Hem, hem," Umbridge rises, steps toward the podium. Momentarily taken aback, Dumbledore politely yields the floor, to murmur of shocked surprise from both teachers and students.

For some reason, that cough already hit one of Cassiopeia's nerves, she turned to her brother who scoffed. "I hate her already,"

Draco nodded.

"Thank you Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome," she spoke. Her voice high. " And how lovely to see all your bright happy faces smiling up at me..."

The students blink back, nonplussed. Literally not a single student is smiling up at her.

"I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends," she continued. She briskly produces a parchment, reads in a sing-song voice. "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The task of passing down the ancient skills must be undertaken with the utmost seriousness. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this historic school..."

She sent Dumbledore a perfunctory nod, "progress for progress's sake must be discouraged. A balance then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation."

Cassiopeia thought she's done, she lets out an exhalation, but she was not.

"Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected--and prune practices that ought to be prohibited," she finally finishes.

Cassiopeia reacts with dawning alarm at this last...as Umbridge smiles primly, abruptly turns and goes, Dumbledore breaks the stunned silence by starting to clap, but the applause that joins him is meager at best. 

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge; that was most...illuminating. As I was saying, Mr. Filch has asked me..." Dumbledore continued to speak. "To remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are any number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door. First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds tostudents--and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too. Tryouts for the house Quidditchteams will take place on the first weekend of next month..."

°°°

Students chatter, Cassiopeia sat beside her brother, fidgeting with her quill before she wrote on Draco's hand, who ignored her.

The students suddenly went quiet, that's when Cassiopeia looked up to see a ball of burnt paper fall on top of Padma Patil's table. All eyes turn to Umbridge as she slowly lowers her stubby wand, smiles a honeyed smile. 

"Good morning, children!" She said.

"She looks like a toad," snickered Cassiopeia, to Draco. He nudged her, shaking his head a small grin on his face.

As she strides to the front of the room she aims her wand at a blackboard, flicks her wrist causing words to magically appear as she speaks them:
"Ordinary. Wizarding. Level. Examinations..." she turned to the students. "-more commonly known as OWLS. Its not an understatement to say your fifth-year examinations will in many respects determine your futures. Study hard and you will be rewarded! Fail to do so, and the consequences may be...severe."

Cassiopeia lifted a brow as a stack of textbooks now float out of a cupboard and distribute themselves to the students, landing with a thud. She took the book and saw the title: "Dark Arts Defense: Basics for Beginners" over an outdated, childish illustration. 

"Your previous instruction in this subject has been disturbingly...uneven," she said. " But you will be pleased to know that from now on you will be following a carefully structured, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic..."

Hermione has been paging through the textbook with growing alarm. She raises her hand, and Umbridge nods.

"There's nothing in here about actually using defensive spells," said the bushy haired girl, furrowing.

Umbridge lets out a laugh, "spells? I can't imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom."

"We're not going to use magic?" questioned Ron, incredulous. Umbridge ignores him, calls on Hermione's upthrust hand. 

"But surely the whole point ofDefense Against the Dark Arts--"

Umbridge cuts her off, "Wizards much older and cleverer than yourself have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells ina secure, risk-free way..."

"What use is that? If we're going to be attacked it won't be 'riskfree--'" Harry spoke aloud, annoyed. Did not like how this was going, and she knew this might not end well.

"Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class," she said sternly before turning to the students to smile and become sweet again, "It is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be sufficient to get you through your examinations--which, after all, is what school is all about."

"And how's theory's supposed to prepare us for what's out there?" Harry, once again, asked.

"There is nothing out there, dear," Professor lets out a breathless chuckle. "Do you imagine wants to attack children like yourself?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry pursed his lips, and said sarcastically: "Maybe Lord Voldemort?"

Cassiopeia nods, there it is. The whole room turns quiet, and Cassiopeia cringes. Umbridge slowly walked towards Harry, as she tried her best to contain her smile.

"Let me make this quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again," she stops walking. "This is a lie."

"It's not a lie. I saw him, I fought him--" Harry interjected.

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge shouted.

"So according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?" Cassiopeia asked, lifting a brow.

Draco nudged her, sending her a confused stare.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident." The woman replied.

"Oh yeah?" Cassiopeia scoffed, "Then what was it then? What was the 'accident'?"

Umbridge grew quiet, and Cassiopeia took that as an answer. "You don't know? And you won't believe the actual person who was actually there that night?"

Harry looked at her, then back at Umbridge, who blinked at Cassiopeia. "It was murder. Voldemort killed him, and you know it--!"

"ENOUGH!!"

The entire class flinches but in an instant, Umbridge turned sweet, and she regained her poise. "Friday, Mr. Potter... My office," she said.

That was quite unfair of her to only give Detention to Harry when she also talked back. Cassiopeia did not interfere with it though, she did not want to get in trouble.