the one with dolores umbridge

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“Every human life is
worth the same and
worth saving.”











THEY WERE STARING. I hadn't been stared at since I left Australia. I hadn't been a victim of hushed whispers and heads knocking together since I was thirteen. I had just gotten down the coach when I noticed it. Apparently, it had been going on all through the train ride but I hadn't noticed because I was so engrossed in that word.

But now, I could see all of it. People where pointing and staring at me and Harry but I'd like to believe, they were saying a whole lot of nasty things about me, rather than about Harry.

Not that it bothered me—all I really wanted to do was keep Harry away from all these to let him focus on the fact that Voldemort was back, and Quidditch and also, a little bit, about OWLs—but, those who believed Voldemort was back said things like, 'She is her mother's daughter afterall,' and 'Do you reckon she helped in bringing him back?' And those who didn't believe he was back, said that I did it for publicity and to 'Divert us from the fact she cheated Cedric to win the championship.'

The problem, however, wasn't that. It was Dolores Umbridge.

After we had managed to get away from all the prying eyes and reached the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the first thing I noticed was the pink toad. She was, indeed, really ugly. And short. And if I remember correctly, she possessed one of the shortest wands ever, which is a bad omen.

Dumbledore's head was inclined toward the woman sitting next to him, who was talking into his ear. She looked like somebody's maiden aunt: squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Then she turned her face slightly to take  a sip from her goblet and I nearly gagged.

"Who told her that outfit was a good idea?" I ask d George only to find him frowning at her too. The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back. The first years' faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling. The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song. A new song. A very, very long song. A warning song. That Hogwarts was in danger. When it stopped singing, I let out a breathy laughter.

"There you go," I said quietly. "The hat's given advice."

The Sorting began and I noticed yet again how less people got sorted to Slytherin. I counted. The most went to Hufflepuff, followed by Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and last of all Slytherin. Contrary to the popular belief, there were muggleborn Slytherins. Most people valued kindness. Many valued bravery. Some valued intelligence but very few were brave, smart and kind enough to themselves to go after ambition and glory.

Dumbledore, who I had seen all summer, announced that we all eat first. I was glad. The piles of great, awesome looking food appeared in front of us on the table and I dug in almost as furiously as Ron. Harry was just telling Hermione and Ron about Umbridge and how she was at his hearing.

"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."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑 Where stories live. Discover now