Dawn Rivera

Dumbledore's Army

"Umbridge has been reading your mail, Harry and Danny," says Hermione. "There's no other explanation."

"You think Umbridge attacked Hedwig and Midnight?" Danny says, outraged.

"I'm almost certain of it," I say grimly. "Watch your frog, it's escaping."

Harry points his wand at the bullfrog that was hopping hopefully towards the other side of the table - "Accio!" - and it zooms gloomily back into his hand.

Charms is always one of the best lessons in which to enjoy a private chat; there is generally so much movement and activity that the danger of being overheard is very slight. Today, with the room full of croaking bullfrogs and cawing ravens, and with a heavy downpour of rain clattering and pounding against the classroom windows, Harry, Danny, Ron, Hermione and I's whispered discussion about how Umbridge nearly caught Uncle Sirius goes quite unnoticed.

"We've been suspecting this ever since Filch accused you of ordering Dungbombs, because it seemed such a stupid lie," Hermione whispers. "I mean, once your letter had been read it would have been quite clearly you weren't ordering them, so you wouldn't have been in trouble at all - it's a bit of a feeble joke, isn't it? But then we thought, what if somebody just wanted an excuse to read your mail?Well then, it would be a perfect way for Umbridge to manage it - tip off Filch, let him do the dirty work and confiscate the letter, then either find a way of stealing it from him or else demand to see it - I don't think Filch would object, when's he ever stuck up for a student's rights? Harry, Danny, you're squashing your frogs."

I look down; they are indeed squeezing their bullfrogs so tightly their eyes are popping; they replace them hastily upon the desk.

"It was a very, very close call last night," I say. "I just wonder if Umbridge knows how close it was. Silencio."

The bullfrog in which I am practising my Silencing Charm is struck dumb mid-croak and glares at me reproachfully.

"If she'd caught Snuffles -" says Hermione.

Danny finishes the sentence for her.

" - He'd probably be back in Azkaban this morning." He waves his wand without really concentrating; his bullfrog swells like a green balloon and emits a high-pitched whistle.

"Silencio!" I say hastily, pointing my finger at Danny's frog, which deflates slightly before us. "Well, he mustn't do it again, that's all. I just don't know how we're going to let him know. We can't send him an owl."

"I don't reckon he'll risk it again," says Ron. "He's not stupid, he knows she nearly got him. Silencio!"

The large and ugly raven in front of him lets out a derisive caw.

"Silencio. SILENCIO!"

The raven caws more loudly.

"It's the way you're moving your wand," says Hermione, watching Ron critically, "You don't want to wave it, it's more a sharp jab."

"Ravens are harder than frogs," says Ron through clenched teeth.

"Fine, let's swap," I say, seizing Ron's raven and replacing it with my own fat bullfrog. "Silencio!" The raven continues to open and close its sharp beak, but no sound comes out.

"Very good, Miss Rivera!" says Professor Flitwick's squeaky little voice, making Harry, Danny, Ron, Hermione and I all jump. "Now, let me see you try, Mr Weasley."

"Wha - ? Oh, oh, right," says Ron, very flustered. "Er - silencio!"

He jabs at the bullfrog so hard he pokes it in the eye: the frog gives a deafening croak and leaps off the desk.