another love; harry potter

forty-six

\ wherein the army is formed /

"UMBRIDGE HAS BEEN READING your mail, Harry."

"You think Umbridge attacked Hedwig?" Harry said, outraged.

"We're almost certain of it," said Hermione grimly. "Watch your frog, it's escaping."

Harry pointed his wand at the bullfrog that had been hopping hopefully towards the other side of the table--'Accio!'-- and it zoomed gloomily back into his hand.

Charms was always one of the best lessons in which to enjoy a private chat; there was generally so much movement and activity that the danger of being overheard was 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, our whispered discussion about how Umbridge had nearly caught Sirius went quite unnoticed.

"I've been suspecting this ever since Filch accused you of ordering Dungbombs, because it seemed such a stupid lie," Hermione whispered. "I mean, once your letter had been read it would have been quite clear 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 I 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, you're murdering your frog." I said pointedly. He followed my gaze to his bullfrog, which he was squeezing so tightly its eyes were popping. followed her gaze to his bullfrog, which he was squeezing his bullfrog so tightly its eyes were popping; he replaced it hastily upon the desk. "It was a very, very close call last night," I whispered, "I just wonder if Umbridge knows how close it was. Silencio." the bullfrog on which I was practicing the Silencing Charm glared at me and started croaking even louder.

"If she'd caught Snuffles," Hermione said anxiously. "Then-"

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

"Silencio!" said Hermione hastily, pointing her wand at Harry's frog, which deflated silently 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," said Ron. "He's not stupid, he knows she nearly got him. Silencio."

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

"Silencio. Silencio! Silencio! SILENCIO!"

The raven cawed more loudly.

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

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

"Fine, let's swap," said Hermione, seizing Ron's raven and replacing it with her own fat bullfrog. "Silencio!" The raven continued to open and close its sharp beak, but no sound came out.

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

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

He jabbed at the bullfrog so hard he poked it in the eye: the frog gave a deafening croak and leapt off the desk.