☤ Pseudonym ☤

~Chapter Eight~

I noticed Harry gazing at Cho as she calmly rebuffed Ron's argument. Something stirred in my stomach as realised that he was looking at her in the same way Cedric used to look at me. Surely I wasn't jealous?

Of course I wasn't. My boyfriend died only a couple of months ago. It wasn't possible to have feelings for someone so soon. Nor was it right. I owed it to Cedric to respect his memory. 

Finally Cho walked away with a gentle farewell to Harry. She definitely liked him. I didn't see her even acknowledge Hermione or I's presence once.

Not that I cared. 

-----

I did my best to avoid speaking directly to Harry for the rest of the morning. Every time I looked at him my stomach did a flip, and I cursed myself for reacting in this ridiculous manner. I refused to lose Harry's friendship over something so petty.

It wasn't until Defence Against the Dark Arts that I was forced out of my thoughts. We entered the classroom to find a pink professor seated at the teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and a black velvet bow on top of her head. I smiled as I compared it to a large insect perched on top of her scalp.

The class was quieter than usual as we seated ourselves. Everyone seemed unsure of how to act around her, as if she was uncharted territory which we had yet to cross. I smiled at Parvati as I took the seat to her right.  

"Well, good afternoon!" she said, when everyone had sat down.

A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in response.

"Tut, tut," said Umbridge, in a condescending tone. "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!"

I frowned in disbelief. How old does she think we are? Six? 

To my surprise, most of the class chanted back to her 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.'

"There, now," she said with sickening sweetness. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

A few people, including myself, let out subtle groans and exchanged annoyed looks; the command 'wands away' was never followed by anything interesting.

As we obeyed the pink woman, she drew out a short, straight wand from below her desk. Sharply she wrapped on the blackboard with it; at once words appeared on the board:

'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 Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands neatly clasped 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 tapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:

'Course Aims' followed by a useless list of targets for the year. I sighed in frustration and lowered my gaze onto the pages of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard, which Umbridge then instructed us to read. The dull sentences rapidly lead my mind off of 'basics for beginners' and onto more interesting subjects, such as how many stone slabs there were in the whole of Hogwarts.