(2) Patrimony (H. Potter)

Chapter Seventeen

Rhiannon can't help but compare Umbridge to a toad. There is just something about her. The way she looks at people. Like an overly pink toad that's been in the water for far too long. All shrivelled and leathery. There is just something about the woman that rubs her up the wrong way. Irks her. Probably because she reminds Rhiannon of the women in charge of the orphanage. Those women were nightmares who pushed to break the children so they would behave. She sits beside Hannah in a silent classroom as all of their classmates watch Umbridge at the front of the class. Each student is unsure about her. Not that that isn't surprising. She just puts out that vibe.

"Well, good afternoon!" Umbridge greets the entire class but only a few people mumble 'Good afternoon' in reply. "Tut, tut," Umbridge scolds the class. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," The majority of the class chants back, Rhiannon raises an eyebrow, she's not about to change her behaviour for one violently pink-dressed woman.

"There, now," Umbridge offers overly sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please." Rhiannon doesn't bother. She keeps her wand beside her parchment paper but does pull out her quill. Umbridge opens her handbag, takes out her own wand, and then taps the blackboard with it. "Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" Umbridge asks, not at all expecting an answer in response. She turns to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. Year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please." She taps on the blackboard again, the first set of writing disappears and is replaced. Rhiannon frowns at the board, reading it over and over, expecting it to be a mistake. There is nothing up there about actually using magic. No practical application. "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?" Umbridge asks them and with it comes a quiet murmur or agreement. "I think we'll try that again, when I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," Rhiannon glances around the room.

"What is wrong with you all?" She whispers causing Hannah to glance at her.

"Good," Umbridge offers. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, Basics for Beginners. There will be no need to talk." She then leans back in her chair behind her desk, watching them all. Rhiannon doesn't open her book. Firstly, she's already read it, cover to cover, in her first year. She knows the chapters by heart. Instead, she raises her hand. She wants to know why there will be no practical learning. She knows that is how they have done it before, she's heard the stories from Harry and Hermione about Lupin, Moody, Quirrell and Lockhart as teachers, whilst it didn't end well, she knows how the lessons went. She is being ignored by Umbridge. But she is Austrian, and stubborn, and she can sit with her hand up all day if need be. She can do this all day. When more than half the class were staring at Rhiannon rather than at their books, Umbridge finally seems to take notice of the girl. "Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asks Rhiannon, as though she had only just noticed her, Rhiannon knows that woman took notice the second her hand went up and then chose to ignore her.

"Not about the chapter, no," Rhiannon answers.

"Well, we're reading just now, if you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," Rhiannon corrects, Umbridge raises her eyebrows.

"And your name is....?" Umbridge asks.

"Rhiannon Grindelwald" Rhiannon points out, but she knows Umbridge knows just who she is. Everyone knows who she is.

"Well, Miss Grindelwald, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully,"

"Well, I don't," Rhiannon counters bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells." There is a short silence in which many members of the class turn their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard. Murmurs of agreement pass through the class.

"Using defensive spells?" Umbridge repeats with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Grindelwald. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"I'm feeling pretty attacked right now" Rhiannon counters.

"We're not going to use magic?" Hannah asks from Rhiannon's side.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Miss....?"

"Abbott," Hannah offers and then raises her hand. Umbridge instead ignores her. Turns her back on her. Rhiannon narrows her eyes and then immediately raises her hand. Umbridge glances at Rhiannon.

"Yes, Miss Grindelwald? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?" Rhiannon counters.

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Grindelwald?" Umbridge asks her in a overly sweet voice.

"Yes" Rhiannon answers. Umbridge gives her a look. "Of course I'm not" Rhiannon counters. "But how hard can it be if you are one and you seem to have little to no grasp on how to educate the students in your care how to properly defend themselves against a threat" The entire class erupts into whispers and chuckles.

"You will come to learn that this is not Durmstrang Academy" Umbridge states, taking steps closer to Rhiannon's desk. "Here you will learn about spells in a safe, risk-free environment"

"At least Durmstrang taught me to be prepared" She argues. "I wouldn't have made it very far in the Triwizard Tournament without those teachings....and these students won't last five minutes in the real world in a real fight learning this way" Rhiannon argues.

"This is a school, not the real world, Miss Grindelwald"

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?" Rhiannon asks.

"There is nothing waiting out there" Umbridge argues.

"Oh yeah?" Rhiannon argues, feeling her temper rising. This woman is ridiculous. She's not fit to teach rocks let alone real students. "At Hogwarts alone, wizards, dark wizards, have managed to sneak in and dangerous beasts have been set loose, right under the Ministry's eyes, haven't they?" She asks. "There was Professor Quirrell, Sirius Black, and Barty Crouch jr was hiding as a member of staff, a teacher.......what if one of the students had crossed them, no spells to protect them? The basilisk....how many students did that petrify? You keep saying that the school is safe...when recent history has taught everyone, especially the students, otherwise...." Umbridge's jaw ticks as the students whisper among themselves, Rhiannon is very far from wrong here. "And if that's not enough, which should worrying if it's not....there's Voldemort" The whispers pick up now, worry and fear. Umbridge glances around at them all and then turns, poised.

"Now, let me make a few things quite plain." She tells the class, her voice calm and controlled but Rhiannon sees it. "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead....and is at large once again. This is a lie."

"It is NOT a lie!"

"Detention, Miss Grindelwald" Umbridge is quick to tell her. Rhiannon clenches her jaw and refrains herself from saying anything else. This is literally her first day and she already has lost house points and gotten detention. "Tomorrow evening. Six o'clock. My office" She slumps in her seat and folds her arms over her chest. She is not going. No way in hell is she going to sit through detention with this woman. She will kill, she might actually kill her.