Chapter 573 Umbridge's Investigation

The long-awaited sunlight shines into the auditorium through the skylight, illuminating the entire hall. Vegetable soup and hot milk raise steaming steam, filled with warm breath. Monday morning irritability is cured by the bright morning light. Students who get up early He couldn't help but squint his eyes.

The first weekend of school went smoothly. Except for the fifth grade students who were tortured by a large amount of homework and had sore fingers, the little wizards in other grades seemed to have adapted to school life and happily discussed the new week's courses and life. .

"The Care of Magical Creatures class is really interesting. It's much more fun than I thought. I really don't understand why the fourth graders advised us not to take this class!" A third grade wizard said happily, and the classmates next to him chirped in response. With.

Ginny, the fourth grader next to her, remained unmoved and expressionless. She even felt that the oatmeal in her hand was a bit hot to her mouth.

Merlin knew what they had suffered when choosing courses. He consulted Harry, his four brothers, and Hermione. The feedback he received was that the Care of Magical Creatures course was optional. Professor Hagrid had changed his ways and became reliable. .

As a result, in last year's Care of Magical Creatures class, they fed snails for a whole semester, and many of their friends who chose the class after them said they were fooled.

Sitting at the long Gryffindor table near the guest of honor seat, Hermione spread the slices of bread on her left hand, picked up the jam spoon with her right hand, and poked Loren next to her with her elbow: "Give me the strawberry jam. …”

"Shh..." Loren then handed over the bread with jam in his hand, without looking back, and whispered in a low voice, "The strawberry jam is too far away, try the orange jam."

Hermione looked at the piece of bread in her hand, tilted her head, followed his line of sight to the guest of honor seat, and found that Principal Dumbledore, whom he rarely saw, was sitting in the middle, and the fan next to him was chatting with him. Umbridge the toad.

A look of calm disapproval.

One grinned and tried to persuade.

Hermione was silent for a moment, lowered her head, took a bite of bread, silently pricked her ears, and turned her attention to the guest of honor.

The sliced ​​bread that is still warm exudes a strong aroma of wheat. Now is the time when it tastes the best, but the taste is a bit bland. Most people like to spread it with various jams and coax it into their mouths. People who always have a sweet tooth Dumbledore preferred the original taste of bread. When he took a bite and chewed it carefully, he could taste a faint and unique sweetness.

"Principal Dumbledore, the Ministry of Magic is here to find out the dark wizards who are hiding their identities, and it is also for the safety of the students..."

An unappetizing voice sounded from beside him. Dumbledore sighed inaudibly, pinched the pieces of bread in his hand, and glanced at the honey and sugar bowl on his right: "I really can't understand, Umbridge." Madam, what does tracing the identity of dark wizards have to do with my professors?"

"Oh, just call me Dolores. Principal Dumbledore, please don't worry. It's not that we don't believe the professors, we just want to check out all possible clues." Umbridge handed over the honey and sugar bowl and pinched her throat. His voice was smoother than syrup, "I assure you that it will not interfere with normal teaching, and it will not drop the Defense Against the Dark Arts course."

"How are you going to investigate?" Dumbledore scooped out a spoonful of honey and slowly spread it on the slices of bread. It was evenly covered without any leakage, which was perfect.

"As the investigator, I will review the professors' performance through various forms such as personal conversations, classroom audits, and student interviews. After the review results are evaluated by the Ministry of Magic's dark wizard research experts and senior Aurors, I will decide whether to conduct an in-depth investigation. Finally, Refer to multiple aspects of evidence to comprehensively evaluate whether they are suspicious..."

Umbridge spoke faster and faster, her voice became shriller, and she didn't mind the increasingly serious expressions of the other professors next to her. "Oh, of course, we will not carry out any sanctions beyond the principal's office and the school board. , dismissal, suspension of teaching and other punitive measures..."

Dumbledore didn't say anything. As an old man, he could certainly hear the subtext in this sentence. Although Umbridge did not have the power to directly intervene in school affairs, she could unite the school board to put pressure on the school.

Putting down the spoon covered with honey, he turned the bread in his hand and said softly: "Ms. Umbridge, I need to correct something... The school board has no right to interfere with the normal teaching of the school."

Umbridge's smile stiffened for a moment, but she quickly reacted and responded with a low smile: "Of course, no matter what the investigation results are, our Ministry of Magic will respect the school's opinions."

"Then it's up to you, Ms. Umbridge, it's best to give me the results before Halloween." Dumbledore took a bite of the bread, and the sweet fragrance of honey spread in his mouth, making him salivate.

"Promise you!"

…

On Black Monday, Gryffindor's fifth-year wizards secretly spread this name because today's classes were particularly terrible, from History of Magic and Potions in the morning to Divination and Defense Against the Dark Arts in the afternoon... …

Divination class, North Tower Classroom.

"The dream diary has become something that we all worry about every morning in our dormitory. Either we sleep too soundly at night and don't dream at all, or we have a dream and forget about it after getting up to go to the toilet." Dean complained with a melancholy look on his face. The little wizards all agreed.

"My memory is inherently bad and I can't remember anything in my dreams." Neville nodded, with the same sad look on his face, "Last Monday night, before going to bed, I kept thinking about remembering the things in my dreams. The more I think about it, the more I can’t sleep. The more I can’t sleep, the more anxious I become. As a result, I suffer from insomnia.”

Seamo sighed: "Assignments from other subjects can be used as reference for each other. It is impossible to copy things like dream diaries. Two people will never have the same dream."

Loren pondered for a moment: "It's not impossible..."

But his voice was too low, drowned in the chatter and laughter.

Harry and Ron next to them didn't worry about their after-school homework. They received guidance from an expert and found an extremely boring fable on the upper shelf of the most remote bookshelf in the library. They could make up a month's worth of dreams in one day.

There is basically no risk of exposure. Judging from the dust on the book, no one has read it in at least fifty years.

"Who would have thought that in just one week since school started, Umbridge would surpass Snape and become the most hated professor among Gryffindor students..." Ron commented in a low voice.

Harry couldn't agree more. To him, the friendliest professor turned out to be a delirious ghost.

Surprisingly, they didn't have to wait until Defense Against the Dark Arts class to meet Umbridge.

"Hello, students..." Professor Trelawney was walking around handing out the "Dream Interpretation Guide" and said in her ethereal voice as usual, "Today we continue to learn about prophetic dreams..."

In the dim divination classroom, the little wizards were about to take out the dream diary they had racked their brains to concoct. Suddenly, they heard a clear clicking sound. Everyone looked towards the side of the podium and saw a short, fat pink creature. The toad emerged from the trap door in the floor.

Seeing Umbridge, the students who were chatting and laughing suddenly fell silent. Professor Trelawney heard the voices in the classroom suddenly drop and looked back.

"Good afternoon, Professor Trelawney."

Umbridge had a disgusting smile on her face, "I believe you must have received the notice, right? Professor McGonagall just sent it this morning..."

Professor Trelawney did not respond to her. He only nodded with a straight face, frowned unhappily, turned his back to Umbridge, and continued to distribute textbooks. Every move he made was like a prophet.

Umbridge licked her face and smiled, not caring. She grabbed an armchair, pulled it to the front of the classroom, sat down a few inches behind the desk, and took out her writing bag from her fancy bag. Board, raised his head expectantly, waiting for class to begin.

Professor Trelawney tightened the shawl around him, cleared his throat, and scanned the class through his black-rimmed glasses: "Today we continue to study prophetic dreams. The relevant theoretical knowledge has been explained in detail in the previous class. , now ask the students to divide into pairs and explain to each other what they have seen in their dreams recently with the help of the "Dream Interpretation Guide".

Loren saw that her hands were shaking slightly, and the prophet professor's heart was not as calm as she showed.

According to her usual habits, she should have walked back to her seat at this time, facing the fireplace and turning her back to her classmates to highlight the mysterious atmosphere of divination. However, Trelawny turned around and saw Umbridge sitting next to her, and gave up this plan. He began to pace slowly in the classroom, making a gesture of looking at the classroom.

Loren and Neville at the same table looked at each other, opened the "Dream Interpretation Guide" on the table, and absentmindedly flipped through each other's dream diaries. While secretly watching Umbridge, they saw him and her writing on the writing board. Write and draw to record something.

After a few minutes, Umbridge stood up and began to follow Professor Trelawney. The two walked around the classroom together, listening to Trelawney's conversation with the classmates, and asking a question or two from time to time. .

The little wizards pretended to look through the books and diaries in their hands, but their minds were focused on the conversation between the two.

"I would like to ask, Professor Trelawney, how long have you been in this position?" Umbridge asked casually, "Can you give me the precise time?"

Professor Trelawney stared at her through black-rimmed glasses. His dilated eyes were a little scary. He crossed his arms in front of him and said with a hint of sullenness in his voice: "Almost sixteen years."

"Not a short time..." Umbridge wrote down on the writing board: "Did Professor Dumbledore personally interview and appoint you?"

"That's right!" Professor Trelawney raised his neck, as if he was proud of this, "I made a prophecy in front of him. I can say that this is the greatest prophecy in the past hundred years, bar none!"

Umbridge raised her eyebrows and made a few more notes. She was not interested in the prophecy in her mouth and continued to ask: "According to the records in the file, you are the mysterious person of the famous prophet Cassandra Trelawney." granddaughter?"

"Yes," said Professor Trelawney, raising his head a little higher.

Umbridge smiled: "But I remember very clearly that no one else in your family has the gift of prophecy. If what you said is true, then since Cassandra, you are the only one in your family. People with second vision? That’s what you call the third eye. If I’m wrong, you can correct me.”

Trelawney's expression changed. Although Umbridge didn't say it explicitly, she understood that this was questioning her gift of prophecy.

"It is very common for the third eye to be inherited from generation to generation. It can happen three generations or even ten generations apart."

Loren raised his head and glanced at Trelawney's eyes. He was also a little curious about what the Third Eye was. He knew that the professor did have uncontrollable prophecy talent, but he had always been skeptical about her so-called third eye. At least in the exploration of his magic vision, those slightly bulging black eyes had nothing but a little more white. special.

However, this kind of thing is difficult to prove. There are very few wizards in the entire magical world who truly master prophecy. The last person who publicly stated that he could see the future was Gellert Grindelwald.

"Yeah?"

In the middle of the classroom, in front of all the students, Umbridge drawled her voice, the doubt in her voice undisguised, and her toad-like mouth opened wider, as if to express her sarcasm and ridicule.

Just when Trelawny wanted to say something more, her voice changed: "I remember, so, I wonder if you can predict something for me...or divination?"

Professor Trelawney's body tensed slightly, pulled the shawl around his thin neck, and said calmly: "I don't understand what you mean."

"I said..." Umbridge spoke clearly, one word after another, each word hitting Trelawny's heart, "I hope you can make a prophecy for me."

Most of the students in the classroom put up their textbooks and huddled behind the pages, secretly observing the two professors.

I saw Professor Trelawney frowning, her body shaking angrily, the beads and bracelets jingling incessantly, and she said sternly: "The Third Eye will not be ordered to see!"

"Understood."

Umbridge said lightly and wrote a few more words on the writing board.

"Wait a minute!"

Professor Trelawney's voice was tight and he spoke in his usual ethereal voice, but because he was shaking with anger, his slightly hasty tone and broken voice destroyed the mysterious effect: "I...I think I did see something. ...It's about you...Ah, I feel something...something black...something extremely dangerous...you will be swallowed up by danger!"

Umbridge still had that amiable smile on her face, her eyebrows raised: "You misunderstood, I don't want to know the prophecy in this regard."

"You! You!" Trelawney pointed at Umbridge with a trembling finger.

Umbridge took out a piece of paper from her pocket, a piece of paper with a picture of a blond boy: "This is the clue I am following. Can you see anything valuable through this picture?"