Hogwarts Love Story part 33

5th year has started, and some things have changed. Cedric is not coming back, ever. Oliver isn't either, but something tells me he will be back to see you.

5th year has started, and some things have changed. Cedric is not coming back, ever. Oliver isn't either, but something tells me he will be back to see you. :D

Created by: 5thMarauder

  1. As McGonagall read out the list of students to be sorted, you zoned out, staring around the room, clapping when everyone else did. Eventually Dumbledore stood, and addressed the school. 'To our newcomers,' said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, 'welcome! To our old hands-welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!' There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate, for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice. 'Excellent,' said Ron, with a kind of groan of longing, and he seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them on to his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick. 'What were you saying before the Sorting?' Hermione asked the ghost. 'About the Hat giving warnings?' 'Oh, yes,' said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. 'Yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within.' 'Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?' said Ron. His mouth was so full you thought it was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all. 'I beg your pardon?' said Nearly Headless Nick politely, while Hermione looked revolted. Ron gave an enormous swallow and said, 'How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a Hat?' 'I have no idea,' said Nearly Headless Nick. 'Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there.' 'And it wants all the houses to be friends?' said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was. 'Fat chance.' 'Can't you even try to be nice to him?', you asked. 'No way in Hell', said Harry. 'He's only nice to you because he fancies you', he said. You and hermione aimed a kick at Harry under the table, but caught each other instead. 'Sorry!',you gasped, and Hermione did the same.
  2. When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the Hall was starting to creep upwards again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the Headmaster. 'Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,' said Dumbledore. 'First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.' (You, Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged smirks.) 'Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door. 'We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.' There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause, during which you, Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged slightly panicked looks; Dumbledore had not said for how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching. Dumbledore continued, 'Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the--' He broke off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, 'Hem, hem,' and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech. Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as you had ever seen it. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts. 'Thank you, Headmaster,' Professor Umbridge simpered, 'for those kind words of welcome.' Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish and, you felt a powerful rush of dislike that you could not explain to yourself; all you knew was that you loathed everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. She gave another little throat-clearing cough ('hem, hem') and continued. 'Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!' She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. 'And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!' You looked around. No-one was smiling. Everyone's faces were completely blank. 'I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!'. Fred and George's voices echoed across the hall quietly saying "That's likely". You laughed loudly, and several people turned to look at you.
  3. Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ('hem, hem'), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them. The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them for ever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.' Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and you distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little 'hem, hem' and went on with her speech. 'Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation ...' The quiet that always filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking was breaking up as students put their heads together, whispering and giggling. Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. You had the impression that a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have ploughed on with her speech. The teachers, however, were still listening very attentively, and Hermione seemed to be drinking in every word Umbridge spoke, though, judging by her expression, they were not at all to her taste. '... because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.' She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though you noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again. 'Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,' he said, bowing to her. 'Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held ...' 'Yes, it certainly was illuminating,' you said, frowning. 'You're not telling me you enjoyed it?' Ron said quietly, turning a glazed face towards you. 'That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy.' 'I said illuminating, not enjoyable,'you said. 'It explained a lot.' 'Did it?' said Harry in surprise. 'Sounded like a load of waffle to me.' There was some important stuff hidden in the waffle,' you said grimly. 'Was there?' said Ron blankly.
  4. 'How about: "progress for progress's sake must be discouraged"? How about: "pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited"?' 'Well, what does that mean?' said Ron impatiently. 'I'll tell you what it means,' you said, through gritted teeth. 'It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts.' There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Hermione jumped up, looking flustered. 'Ron, we're supposed to show the first-years where to go!' 'Oh yeah,' said Ron, who had obviously forgotten. 'Hey--hey, you lot! Midgets!' 'Ron!' 'Well, they are, they're titchy ...' 'I know, but you can't call them midgets!--First-years!' Hermione called commandingly along the table. 'This way, please!' A group of new students walked shyly up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, all of them trying hard not to lead the group. "C'mon Harry", you said, pushing through the crowd. The Gryffindor common room looked as welcoming as ever, a cosy circular tower room full of dilapidated squashy armchairs and rickety old tables. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate and a few people were warming their hands by it before going up to their dormitories; on the other side of the room Fred and George Weasley were pinning something up on the noticeboard. You blew kisses to them playfully and went up to bed.
  5. 'What's the matter?' asked Hermione as she and you caught up with Harry and Ron halfway across the common room as they headed towards breakfast. 'You look absolutely-Oh for heavens sake.' She was staring at the common-room noticeboard, where a large new sign had been put up. GALLONS OF GALLEONS! Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings? Like to earn a little extra gold? Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room, for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs. (We regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk.) 'They are the limit,' said Hermione grimly, taking down the sign, which Fred and George had pinned up ewer a poster giving the date of the first Hogsmeade weekend, which was to be in October. 'We'll have to talk to them, Ron.' Ron looked positively alarmed. 'Why?' 'Because we're prefects!' said Hermione, as you climbed out through the portrait hole. 'It's up to us to stop this kind of thing!' Ron said nothing; you could tell from his glum expression that the prospect of stopping Fred and George doing exactly what they liked was not one he found inviting. 'Anyway, what's up, Harry?' Hermione continued, as you walked down a flight of stairs lined with portraits of old witches and wizards, all of whom ignored them, being engrossed in their own conversation. 'You look really angry about something.'
  6. 'Seamus reckons Harry's lying about You-Know-Who,' said Ron succinctly, when Harry did not respond. Hermione sighed. 'Yes, Lavender thinks so too,' she said gloomily. 'Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I'm a lying, attention-seeking prat, have you?' Harry said loudly. 'No,' said Hermione calmly. 'I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about you, actually. And it would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down our throats, Harry, because in case you haven't noticed, Ron, ______ and I are on your side.' There was a short pause. 'Sorry,' said Harry in a low voice. 'That's quite all right,' said Hermione with dignity. You shook your head. 'Don't you remember what Dumbledore said at the last end-of-term feast?' you asked. Harry and Ron both looked at her blankly, but Hermione nodded. 'About You-Know-Who. He said his "gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust-" ' 'How do you remember stuff like that?' asked Ron, looking at you in admiration. 'I listen, Ron,' you said. 'So do I, but I still couldn't tell you exactly what--' 'The point,' Hermione pressed on loudly, 'is that this sort of thing is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who's only been back two months and we've already started fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat's warning was the same: stand together, be united--' 'And Harry got it right last night,' retorted Ron. 'If that means we're supposed to get matey with the Slytherins--fat chance.' 'Well, I think it's a pity we're not trying for a bit of inter-house unity,' said Hermione crossly. You had reached the foot of the marble staircase. A line of fourth-year Ravenclaws was crossing the Entrance Hall; they caught sight of Harry and hurried to form a tighter group, as though frightened he might attack stragglers. 'Yeah, we really ought to be trying to make friends with people like that,' said Harry sarcastically. You followed the Ravenclaws into the Great Hall, all looking instinctively at the staff table as they entered. Professor Grubbly-Plank was chatting to Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, and Hagrid was once again conspicuous only by his absence. The enchanted ceiling above you was a miserable rain-cloud grey.
  7. You spotted Angelina, the new quidditch captain. You went up to her. "Hey", you grinned. "Oh, hi!", she said. "Listen, I heard that one of your chasers are gone, so eh...I want to try out..", you said. "Yeah, and we need a new keeper too", she said. "Can you fly?", she asked. "Yeah, I can", you replied. "Okay, see you on Friday at five o' clock", she said. "See ya!", you said. You returned to Harry and the others only to find her there again. 'Hi, Angelina.' said Harry. 'Hi,' she said briskly, 'good summer?' And without waiting for an answer, 'Listen, I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.' 'Nice one,' said Harry, grinning at her. 'Yeah, well, we need a new Keeper now Oliver's left. And we need a new chaser (she glanced at you, grinning) Tryouts are on Friday at five o'clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person'll fit in.' 'OK,' said Harry. Angelina smiled at him and departed. 'I'd forgotten Wood had left,' said Hermione vaguely as she sat down beside Ron and pulled a plate of toast towards her. 'I suppose that will make quite a difference to the team?' 'I s'pose,' said Harry, taking the bench opposite. 'He was a good Keeper ...' 'Still, it won't hurt to have some new blood, will it?' said Ron. 'How the Hell did you manage to forget Oliver left?', you asked disbelievingly. Hermione shook her head and shrugged.
  8. When you entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom you found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be. 'Well, good afternoon!' she said, when finally the whole class had sat down. A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply. 'Tut, tut,' said Professor Umbridge. '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,' you all chanted back at her. 'There, now,' said Professor Umbridge sweetly. That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.' Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. You shoved your wand back inside your bag and pulled out a quill, ink and parchment. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once: Defence Against the Dark Arts A Return to Basic Principles 'Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?' stated Professor Umbridge, turning 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 OWL 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 rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:
  9. Course Aims: 1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. 2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used 3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use. For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked, 'Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?' There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class. 'I think we'll try that again,' said Professor Umbridge. '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,' rang through the room. 'Good,' said Professor Umbridge. 'I should like you to turn to page five and read "Chapter One, Basics for Beginners". There will be no need to talk.' Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. You turned to page five of your copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read. It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. You felt your concentration sliding away from you; you had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several silent minutes passed. Next to you, Ron was absent-mindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. You looked right and received a surprise to shake you out of your torpor. Hermione had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory.She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air.
  10. After five minutes more than half the class were staring at Hermione. 'Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?' she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her. 'Not about the chapter, no,' said Hermione. 'Well, we're reading just now,' said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. 'If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class.' 'I've got a query about your course aims,' said Hermione. Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. 'And your name is?' 'Hermione Granger,' said Hermione. 'Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully,' said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness. 'Well, I don't,' said Hermione bluntly. 'There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells.' There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard. 'Using defensive spells?' Professor Umbridge repeated 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 Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?' 'We're not going to use magic?' Ron exclaimed loudly. 'Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.--?' 'Weasley,' said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air. Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. You, Harry and Hermione immediately raised your hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on you and then Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione. 'Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?' 'Yes,' said Hermione. 'Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?' 'Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?' asked Professor Umbridge, in her falsely sweet voice. 'No, but--'

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