Chapter 40: Breakups

Harry was quite excited to see Cella at dinner and glad they managed to get a quick word in private before she left. He was also more than happy to watch as Umbridge was forced to suck up to Kate over the next few days as news of the impending Defense deal between the US and Britain broke. With Kate being so close (and subsequently influential) to Cella, it was critical that she play nice while the deal was finalized and voted on in both the Wizengamot and MACUSA. Kate didn't make it easy and suddenly Dumbledore, in the Ministry's eyes, had the upper hand.

The response was swift, Sprout, McGonagall, Flitwick, Burbage (the muggle studies professor according to Hermione) and Vector (arithmancy Professor) all joined Hagrid and Trelawney on probation. It was an outrage that swept the school as many students woke up and saw what was happening right in front of them.

There wasn't a student who hadn't had at least one professor they liked put on a ridiculous probation while Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff were all outraged at the fact their Heads of Houses had been "humiliated" and "disrespected" in such a manner.

Even the Slytherins seemed to agree that Umbridge had gone too far. They did not whisper in the corridors or pull pranks like the other houses, but they did rebel subtly. Many stopped going to Umbridge to tell on other students and were...nicer...Harry supposed was the best word. The bullies in the upper years ceased to pick on the younger years of other houses and, in some cases, Slytherins could be seen actually helping other houses.

Even Draco Malfoy, whom Harry thought would've taken full advantage of the situation, like he had with Hagrid, was strangely quiet. Often, he could be found hidden by himself in the library, according to Hermione. To Harry's outrage, his newfound quietness also manifested in the blonde Slytherin seeking out Kate and Harry was supremely annoyed every time he entered her office as Malfoy left, often without even a sneer at him.

Fred and George ramped up their pranks against Umbridge specifically, and Lee Jordan joined them by unleashing a niffler in her office.

Hermione was probably the most outraged that so many "perfectly wonderful" teachers had been treated so horrendously by the "horrible, foul and evil hag" that had invaded their school. She went on a furious recruiting drive for the DA in response. Everyday she sat in the library, in the courtyard, by the lake, and whispered furiously with other angry students.

Phrases like "spite the toad" and "ministry morons" could be heard as she gestured wildly and the students watched her, incredulously at first, and then nodding their heads in agreement as they walked away several minutes later. Hermione's hair would always become frazzled and more bushy as this was occurring.

She dragged Harry and Ron with her and they persuaded what felt like half the school to join their somewhat illegal club.

Eventually, Harry had to split up DA sessions into two, the older years one day and the younger years the next. Blessedly, the secret remained intact as Umbridge didn't seem to have any clue where half the school was disappearing off to periodically.

The week had its downsides though.

For one thing, Harry got two D's in potions from a particularly spiteful Snape, and for another, it seemed as if every class he was in, Umbridge was also in. She would sit in the back of the classroom writing little marks on her clipboard (or pretending to) and making small noises while she eyed everyone with that disgusting little smirk.

Kate seemed more stressed than usual; her face was not wearing its perpetual smile and she often would show up for dinner last of all the professors and leave first. Normally she wore her hair down but for the fifth day in a row it was up in a tight bun, something she only wore when she wanted it out of her face—when she was reading (she used ponytails or braids for duels).

The mystery of what exactly was causing his sister's stress seemed to be a constant in the back of his mind, but never quite came to the forefront. No, the thing on the forefront of his mind happened when a scream tore through the castle one evening while Harry, Ron, and Hermione were doing their homework.

The first scream got everyone's attention, the second caused them all to run towards the sound.

The screams were coming from the entrance hall; they grew louder as Harry ran toward the stone steps leading down from the library. When they reached the bottom he found the entrance hall packed. Students had come flooding out of the Great Hall, where dinner was still in progress, to see what was going on. Others had crammed themselves onto the marble staircase. Harry pushed forward through a knot of tall Slytherins and saw that the onlookers had formed a great ring, some of them looking shocked, others even frightened. Professor McGonagall was directly opposite Harry on the other side of the hall; she looked as though what she was watching made her feel faintly sick.

Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the entrance hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them upside down; it looked very much as though it had been thrown down the stairs after her. Professor Trelawney was staring, apparently terrified, at something Harry could not see but that seemed to be standing at the foot of the stairs.

"No!" she shrieked. "NO! This cannot be happening. . . . It cannot . . . I refuse to accept it!"

"You didn't realize this was coming?" said a high girlish voice, sounding callously amused, and Harry, moving slightly to his right, saw that Trelawney's terrifying vision was nothing other than Umbridge flanked by two men in scarlet robes. "Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?"

"You c-can't!" howled Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, "you c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"

"It was your home," said Umbridge, and Harry was revolted to see the enjoyment stretching her toadlike face as she watched Professor Trelawney sink, sobbing uncontrollably, onto one of her trunks, "until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."

But she stood and watched, with an expression of gloating enjoyment, as Professor Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking backward and forward on her trunk in paroxysms of grief. Harry heard a sob to his left and looked around.

Lavender and Parvati were both crying silently, their arms around each other. Professor Snape had arrived while the exchange had been happening; with Kate apparently, because she was standing just behind his left shoulder, expression inscrutable as she observed the scene. She made eye contact with Harry and her eyes sparkled—with anger or mischief he couldn't tell from his position. Then he heard footsteps. Professor McGonagall had broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to Professor Trelawney and was patting her firmly on the back while withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes.

"There, there, Sibyll . . . Calm down. . . . Blow your nose on this. . . . It's not as bad as you think, now. . . . You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts. . . ."

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" said Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward; the men in scarlet—Aurors, he thought absently—did not follow. "And your authority for that statement is . . . ?"

"That would be mine," said a deep voice.

The oak front doors had swung open. Students beside them scuttled out of the way as Dumbledore appeared in the entrance. What he had been doing out in the grounds Harry could not imagine, but there was something impressive about the sight of him framed in the doorway against an oddly misty night. Leaving the doors wide behind him, he strode forward through the circle of onlookers toward the place where Professor Trelawney sat, tearstained and trembling, upon her trunk, Professor McGonagall alongside her.

"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" said Umbridge with a singularly unpleasant little laugh. "I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here" — she pulled a parchment scroll from within her robes — "an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she — that is to say, I — feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."

To Harry's very great surprise, Dumbledore continued to smile. He looked down at Professor Trelawney, who was still sobbing and choking on her trunk, and said, "You are quite right, of course, Madam Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid," he went on, with a courteous little bow, "that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."

At this, Professor Trelawney gave a wild little laugh in which a hiccup was barely hidden. "No — no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere —"

"No," said Dumbledore sharply. "It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll."

He turned to Professor McGonagall. "Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course," said McGonagall. "Up you get, Sibyll. . . ."

Professor Sprout came hurrying forward out of the crowd and grabbed Professor Trelawney's other arm. Together they guided her past Umbridge and up the marble stairs. Professor Flitwick went scurrying after them, his wand held out before him; he squeaked, "Locomotor trunks!" and Professor Trelawney's luggage rose into the air and proceeded up the staircase after her, Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear.

"Absolutely not!" Umbridge cried furiously. "Aurors, stop them!" The two men, one short with short brown hair a mustache, and the other with dirty blonde hair tied into a small ponytail, drew their wands and stepped forward. They seemed to hesitate, however, faced down with Professor Dumbledore, who had yet to make any movement (mainly for his wand) that he was concerned about their presence.

Umbridge, on the other hand, was slowly turning red as her arm twitched irritably towards the professors' procession. "Go!" She hissed.

The two men, whom Harry was now quite sure did not wish to duel with the Headmaster both flourished their wands silently.

Nothing happened. Whispers broke out as the Aurors waved their wands again, in confusion this time. They even spoke their incantations aloud.

Ripples of laughter began to make their way around, students snickering and pointing.

"Need some help!?" Someone yelled mockingly from in the crowd.

"At least shoot some sparks or something!" Another student snorted over the din. More laughter and even Harry could feel his own face forming a large smile.

"Someone needs to learn how to use their wand!" Another student crowed, from another direction. Harry watched Kate's smug smirk as the Aurors continued to flounder and wondered what exactly she had done. Was it the same thing she said she did to those Samhain followers over the summer?

"Well you've come to the right place for learning magic!" Another student exclaimed gleefully. Even the remaining professors were struggling to contain their mirth.

Umbridge was standing stockstill, staring at Dumbledore, who continued to smile benignly.

"That's enough!" She shrieked hysterically, giving away her own horror at the scene unfolding.

The Aurors stopped their floundering and beat a hasty retreat to the periodic snickers of the crowd. Eventually they quieted as attention turned back to the High Inquisitor, who looked like steam would be coming from her ears at any moment.

"And what," she said in a whisper that nevertheless carried all around the entrance hall, "are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"

"Oh, that won't be a problem," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."

"You've found — ?" said Umbridge shrilly. "You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Twenty-two —"

"— the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if — and only if — the headmaster is unable to find one," said Dumbledore. "And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?"

He turned to face the open front doors, through which night mist was now drifting. Harry heard hooves. There was a shocked murmur around the hall and those nearest the doors hastily moved even farther backward, some of them tripping over in their haste to clear a path for the newcomer.

Through the mist came a face Harry had seen once before on a dark, dangerous night in the Forbidden Forest: white-blond hair and astonishingly blue eyes, the head and torso of a man joined to the palomino body of a horse.

"This is Firenze," said Dumbledore happily to a thunderstruck Umbridge. "I think you'll find him suitable."

BEGINNING OF MARCH, HOGWARTS

The entire castle was buzzing with rumors about Firenze the centaur. Lavender and Parvati wasted no time gloating to Hermione about being taught by a centaur—and reminding her that she had dropped divination—but she did not seem to care.

Divination with Firenze was different. They were in classroom eleven instead of the North Tower because he could not climb the latter. The classroom was decorated like a forest and Firenze spent most of the class discussing stargazing while Harry wondered who had kicked the kind centaur in the chest.

Firenze also seemed intent on reminding the class of the fact that divination was a very vague subject that was often useless because it was hard to correctly interpret your findings. As such, Harry walked away from the class with no more than a vague warning that there was something coming. Helpful.

Instead, Harry and Ron focused on something much more important...to them. The Professional Quidditch League matches had started.

The league matches were the most important matches for every club; they spent the fall playing exhibition matches with teams usually outside their own league and then the winter was for training. Spring was when the league started and every team played every other team twice (summer was for national team competitions).

Opening weekend saw the Cannons get flattened by the Ballycastle Bats, while Puddlemere United beat the Appleby Arrows, the Montrose Magpies beat Wimbourne Wasps, and the Holyhead Harpies and Tutshill Tornados had what was apparently a match for the ages. Several other matches were played later that week as well, Pride of Portree vs. Falmouth Falcons and the Caerphilly Catapults played the Kenmare Kestrels. The Wigtown Wanderers did not play until the following week, where they lost to the Tornados.

Most important for Harry was that Jamie did not allow a single goal in her opening matches and indeed, as March went along and the Easter Holidays approached, it became clear she well deserved to be considered the best keeper in the league.

The other thing in the news was the finalization of the agreement between Britain and MACUSA, which naturally, did not get very many mentions amongst the student body. Kate assured Harry that the professors had discussed it at length behind Umbridge's back.

Unfortunately, as March blurred into April, his life seemed to want to become one long series of worries and problems.

Umbridge had continued attending all Care of Magical Creatures lessons, so it had been very difficult to warn Hagrid. At last Harry had managed it by pretending he had lost his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and doubling back after class one day.

"Hagrid you've got to be careful, Umbridge has already sacked Trelawney and if you ask me, she's on a roll." Harry said seriously. "Even Professor Ross was worried about you." Indeed, Kate had told him to try and help Hagrid with his classes if he could, because she could not seem to get through to him.

"There's things more importan' than keepin' a job," said Hagrid, though his hands shook slightly as he said this and a basin full of knarl droppings crashed to the floor. "Don' worry abou' me, Harry, jus' get along now, there's a good lad. . . ."

Harry had no choice but to leave Hagrid mopping up the dung all over his floor, but he felt thoroughly worried as he trudged back up to the castle.

Meanwhile, as the teachers and Hermione persisted in reminding them, the O.W.L.s were drawing ever nearer. All the fifth years were suffering from stress to some degree, but Hannah Abbott became the first to receive a Calming Draught from Madam Pomfrey after she burst into tears during Herbology and sobbed that she was too stupid to take exams and wanted to leave school now.

If it had not been for the D.A. lessons and Kate's constant presence, Harry thought he would have been extremely unhappy. He sometimes felt that he was living for the hours he spent in the Room of Requirement, working hard but thoroughly enjoying himself at the same time, swelling with pride as he looked around at his fellow D.A. members and saw how far they had come. He wondered if Kate ever felt like that, knowing her, she probably did. Kate was another woe of his, she was so wrapped up in whatever she was doing that it seemed they only saw each other for class and his little lessons. Sometimes he wondered, unfairly perhaps, if she saw Draco Malfoy more than him.

In other news, the older class of the DA had finally started work on Patronuses, which everybody had been very keen to practice, though as Harry kept reminding them, producing a Patronus in the middle of a brightly lit classroom when they were not under threat was very different to producing it when confronted by something like a dementor.

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy," said Cho brightly, watching her silvery swan-shaped Patronus soar around the Room of Requirement during their last lesson before Easter. "They're so pretty!"

"They're not supposed to be pretty, they're supposed to protect you," said Harry patiently. "What we really need is a boggart or something; that's how I learned, I had to conjure a Patronus while the boggart was pretending to be a dementor —"

"But that would be really scary!" said Lavender, who was shooting puffs of silver vapor out of the end of her wand. "And I still — can't — do it!" she added angrily.

Neville was having trouble too. His face was screwed up in concentration, but only feeble wisps of silver smoke issued from his wand tip. "You've got to think of something happy," Harry reminded him.

"I'm trying," said Neville miserably, who was trying so hard his round face was actually shining with sweat.

"Harry, I think I'm doing it!" yelled Seamus, "Look — ah — it's gone. . . . But it was definitely something hairy, Harry!"

Hermione's Patronus, a shining silver otter, was gamboling around her.

"They are sort of nice, aren't they?" she said, looking at it fondly.

The door of the Room of Requirement opened and then closed again; Harry looked around to see who had entered, but there did not seem to be anybody there. It was a few moments before he realized that the people close to the door had fallen silent. Next thing he knew, something was tugging at his robes somewhere near the knee. He looked down and saw, to his very great astonishment, Dobby the house-elf peering up at him from beneath his usual eight hats.

"Hi, Dobby!" he said. "What are you — what's wrong?"

For the elf's eyes were wide with terror and he was shaking. The members of the D.A. closest to Harry had fallen silent now: Everybody in the room was watching Dobby. The few Patronuses people had managed to conjure faded away into silver mist, leaving the room looking much darker than before.

"Harry Potter, sir . . ." squeaked the elf, trembling from head to foot, "Harry Potter, sir . . . Dobby has come to warn you . . . but the house-elves have been warned not to tell . . ."

He ran headfirst at the wall: Harry, who had some experience of Dobby's habits of self-punishment, made to seize him, but Dobby merely bounced off the stone, cushioned by his eight hats. Hermione and a few of the other girls let out squeaks of fear and sympathy.

"What's happened, Dobby?" Harry asked, grabbing the elf's tiny arm and holding him away from anything with which he might seek to hurt himself.

"Harry Potter . . . she . . . she . . ."

Dobby hit himself hard on the nose with his free fist: Harry seized that too.

"Who's 'she,' Dobby?"

But he thought he knew — surely only one "she" would induce such fear in Dobby? The elf looked up at him, slightly cross-eyed, and mouthed wordlessly.

"Umbridge?" asked Harry, horrified.

Dobby nodded, then tried to bang his head off Harry's knees; Harry held him at bay.

"What about her? Dobby — she hasn't found out about this — about us — about the D.A.?"

He read the answer in the elf's stricken face. His hands held fast by Harry, the elf tried to kick himself and fell to the floor.

"Is she coming?" Harry asked quietly.

Dobby let out a howl, and began beating his bare feet hard on the floor. "Yes, Harry Potter, yes!"

Harry straightened up and looked around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at the thrashing elf.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Harry bellowed. "RUN!"

They all pelted toward the exit at once, forming a scrum at the door, then people burst through; Harry could hear them sprinting along the corridors and hoped they had the sense not to try and make it all the way to their dormitories. It was only ten to nine, if they just took refuge in the library or the Owlery, which were both nearer...

"Harry, come on!" shrieked Hermione from the center of the knot of people now fighting to get out.

He scooped up Dobby, who was still attempting to do himself serious injury, and ran with the elf in his arms to join the back of the queue.

"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 slamming the door behind him.

"Thank you, Harry Potter!" squeaked Dobby, and he streaked off.

Harry glanced left and right, the others were all moving so fast that he caught only glimpses of flying heels at either end of the corridor before they vanished. He started to run right; there was a boys' bathroom up ahead, he could pretend he'd been in there all the time if he could just reach it!

"AAARGH!"

He should have sensed Malfoy. Kate would've taken him to task for being oblivious to his surroundings. As it were, when he felt something grab his ankles, he fell face first and skidded several feet before he rolled onto his back and saw a conflicted looking Draco Malfoy. He wondered absently if Kate had taught him to aim so well.

"Trip Jinx, Potter!" he said. "Madam — MADAM! I've got one!"

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

"It's him!" she said jubilantly at the sight of Harry on the floor. "Excellent, Draco, excellent, oh, very good — fifty points to Slytherin! I'll take him from here. . . . Stand up, Potter!"

Harry got to his feet, glaring at the pair of them. He had never seen Umbridge looking so happy. She seized his arm in a vicelike grip and turned, beaming broadly, to Malfoy. "You hop along and see if you can round up anymore 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 girls' ones and then meet us in the Headmaster's office — off you go — and you," she added in her softest, most dangerous voice, as Malfoy walked away. "You can come with me to the headmaster's office now, Potter."

A/N::: I love reviews, and yes, I love giving Umbridge what she deserves, that's all I'll say about what is coming. REVIEW and THANK YOU SO MUCH to those that do!