‘You-Know-Who's Last Attempt to Take Over

‘You-Know-Who's Last Attempt to Take Over, pages two to Jour, What the Ministry Should Have Told Us, page five, Why Nobody Listened to Albus Dumbledore, pages six to eight, Exclusive Interview with Harry Potter, page nine ...Well,’ said Hermione, folding up the newspaper and throwing it aside, ‘it's certainly given them lots to write about. And that interview with Harry isn't exclusive, it's the one that was in The Quibbler months ago ...’

‘Daddy sold it to them,’ said Luna vaguely, turning a page of The Quibbler.‘He got a very good price for it, too, so we're going to go on an expedition to Sweden this summer to see if we can catch a Crumple-Horned Snorkack.’

‘Hermione seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, then said, That sounds lovely.’

Ginny caught Harry's eye and looked away quickly, grinning.

‘So, anyway,’ said Hermione, sitting up a little straighter and wincing again, ‘what's going on in school?’

‘Well, Flitwick's got rid of Fred and George's swamp,’ said Ginny, ‘he did it in about three seconds. But he left a tiny patch under the window and he's roped it off—’

‘Why?’ said Hermione, looking startled.

‘Oh, he just says it was a really good bit of magic,’ said Ginny, shrugging.

‘I think he left it as a monument to Fred and George,’ said Ron, through a mouthful of chocolate. ‘They sent me all these, you know,’ he told Harry, pointing at the small mountain of Frogs beside him. ‘Must be doing all right out of that joke shop, eh?’

Hermione looked rather disapproving and asked, ‘So has all the trouble stopped now Dumbledore's back?’

‘Yes,’ said Neville, ‘everything's settled right back to normal.’

‘I s'pose Filch is happy, is he?’ asked Ron, propping a Chocolate Frog Card featuring Dumbledore against his water jug.

‘Not at all,’ said Ginny. ‘He's really, really miserable, actually ...’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘He keeps saying Umbridge was the best thing that ever happened to Hogwarts ...’

All six of them looked around. Professor Umbridge was lying in a bed opposite them, gazing up at the ceiling. Dumbledore had strode alone into the Forest to rescue her from the centaurs; how he had done it—how he had emerged from the trees supporting Professor Umbridge without so much as a scratch on him—nobody knew, and Umbridge was certainly not telling. Since she had returned to the castle she had not, as far as any of them knew, uttered a single word. Nobody really knew what was wrong with her, either. Her usually neat mousy hair was very untidy and there were still bits of twigs and leaves in it, but otherwise she seemed to be quite unscathed.

‘Madam Pomfrey says she's just in shock,’ whispered Hermione.

‘Sulking, more like,’ said Ginny.

‘Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this,’ said Ron, and with his tongue he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking around wildly.

‘Anything wrong, Professor?’ called Madam Pomfrey, poking her head around her office door.

‘No ... no ...’ said Umbridge, sinking back into her pillows. ‘No, I must have been dreaming ...’

Hermione and Ginny muffled their laughter in the bedclothes.

‘Speaking of centaurs,’ said Hermione, when she had recovered a little, ‘who's Divination teacher now? Is Firenze staying?’

‘He's got to,’ said Harry, ‘the other centaurs won't take him back, will they?’

‘It looks like he and Trelawney are both going to teach,’ said Ginny.

‘Bet Dumbledore wishes he could've got rid of Trelawney for good,’ said Ron, now munching on his fourteenth Frog. ‘Mind you, the whole subject's useless if you ask me, Firenze isn't a lot better ...’

‘How can you say that?’ Hermione demanded. ‘After we've just found out that there are real prophecies?’