"Obviously I received it, otherwise I would have inquired what you were doing lurking in my classroom,"Professor McGonagall replied with crisp precision, then turned her back on Umbridge with the finality of a door slamming shut. Excited glances ricocheted between students like sparks from a forge.
"As I was explaining before the interruption, today we shall practice the more challenging Vanishing Spell on toads, with particular emphasis on the fundamental principles of vanishment—"
"Hem, hem—"
"I fail to comprehend,"Professor McGonagall said, whirling around to face Umbridge with the controlled fury of a Scottish storm barely contained within proper boundaries, "how you expect to evaluate my teaching methods while persistently disrupting my instruction. You should understand that I never tolerate interruptions when I am addressing my students!"
Umbridge looked as though she'd been publicly slapped across her toad-like features. She remained silent but straightened her parchment with sharp, jerky movements and began scribbling with the vindictive energy of someone plotting revenge.
Professor McGonagall appeared supremely indifferent to this bureaucratic tantrum as she addressed her class once more.
"As I was saying, the Vanishing Spell increases in difficulty proportional to the complexity of the creature being vanished." She descended from her platform and moved among the students, apparently seeking to maximize the distance between herself and the pink irritant in the corner.
"Snails, being invertebrates, present minimal challenge. Toads, however—they are considerably larger and more revolting, though equally primitive. Vanishing them will provide you all with a genuine taste of Transfiguration's mysteries and rewards. Very well, you know the incantation. Let me observe your progress—"
"I'm absolutely dying to make that particular 'toad' disappear,"Harry whispered to Orli, his face brightening with the first genuinely mischievous smile she'd seen in weeks, as if the oppressive shadows that had been following him had suddenly lifted.
Their quartet had undergone a subtle reorganization recently: where once Hermione and Orli had invariably partnered together, now Orli found herself working alongside Harry, while Hermione and Ron formed the other pair. Orli and Harry maintained elaborate pretenses of obliviousness to this development, while privately savoring the romantic tension crackling between their friends like barely-contained magic. Though Hermione and Ron had yet to acknowledge what everyone else could see, even Harry had begun noticing the meaningful glances and carefully orchestrated proximity.
Umbridge refrained from prowling through Professor McGonagall's classroom—perhaps recognizing that McGonagall represented a force beyond her bureaucratic authority. Instead, she remained entrenched in her corner like a pink spider, scribbling notes with the intensity of someone documenting evidence for a trial. When Professor McGonagall finally dismissed the class, Umbridge rose with a face so stern it could have been carved from granite.
"Here comes the inquisition,"Orli murmured, scooping up the toad that had stubbornly refused to vanish despite Harry's best efforts and depositing it into the large basin Neville was circulating. Students began their exodus, but she and Harry deliberately lingered, hoping to witness the coming confrontation.
"How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?"Umbridge inquired with deceptive pleasantness.
"Thirty-nine years come December,"Professor McGonagall replied with arctic brevity, snapping her leather satchel closed with a sound like a whip crack.
Umbridge made careful notations, her quill scratching across parchment like claws on stone.
"Excellent," she said with false warmth. "You shall receive the results of your evaluation within ten days."
"I await them with bated breath,"Professor McGonagall responded in a tone that could have frozen the Black Lake solid, then strode toward the exit with her characteristic brisk authority, efficiently shepherding both Orli and Harry from the classroom as she passed.
Orli had hoped they might enjoy a blessed respite from Umbridge's presence, but fate had other plans. That afternoon, as they made their way across the grounds toward Care of Magical Creatures, they discovered the pink plague had already infected their next lesson, standing beside Professor Grubbly-Plank like a bureaucratic parasite.
"You are not the regular instructor for this subject, I believe?" they heard Umbridge asking as they approached the wooden table where a collection of Bowtruckles waited with twig-like patience.
The question hung in the air like a trap waiting to be sprung, and Orli felt her stomach tighten with anticipation of whatever fresh torment Umbridge was preparing to unleash.
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