The Order of the Phoenix Read online

  You think,’ she whispered, bending Harry’s neck back even further, so that he was looking up at the ceiling, ‘that after two Nifflers I was going to let one more foul, scavenging little creature enter my office without my knowledge? I had Stealth Sensoring Spells placed all around my doorway after the last one got in, you foolish boy. Take his wand,’ she barked at someone he could not see, and he felt a hand grope inside the chest pocket of his robes and remove the wand. ‘Hers, too.’

  Harry heard a scuffle over by the door and knew that Hermione had also just had her wand wrested from her.

  ‘I want to know why you are in my office,’ said Umbridge, shaking the fist clutching his hair so that he staggered.

  ‘I was – trying to get my Firebolt!’ Harry croaked.

  ‘Liar.’ She shook his head again. ‘Your Firebolt is under strict guard in the dungeons, as you very well know, Potter. You had your head in my fire. With whom have you been communicating?’

  ‘No one –’ said Harry, trying to pull away from her. He felt several hairs part company with his scalp.

  ‘Liar!’ shouted Umbridge. She threw him from her and he slammed into the desk. Now he could see Hermione pinioned against the wall by Millicent Bulstrode. Malfoy was leaning on the windowsill, smirking as he threw Harry’s wand into the air one-handed and caught it again.

  There was a commotion outside and several large Slytherins entered, each gripping Ron, Ginny, Luna and – to Harry’s bewilderment – Neville, who was trapped in a stranglehold by Crabbe and looked in imminent danger of suffocation. All four of them had been gagged.

  ‘Got ’em all,’ said Warrington, shoving Ron roughly forwards into the room. ‘That one,’ he poked a thick finger at Neville, ‘tried to stop me taking her,’ he pointed at Ginny, who was trying to kick the shins of the large Slytherin girl holding her, ‘so I brought him along too.’

  ‘Good, good,’ said Umbridge, watching Ginny’s struggles. ‘Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn’t it?’

  Malfoy laughed loudly and sycophantically. Umbridge gave her wide, complacent smile and settled herself into a chintz-covered armchair, blinking up at her captives like a toad in a flowerbed.

  ‘So, Potter,’ she said. ‘You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon,’ she nodded at Ron – Malfoy laughed even louder – ‘to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes – Mr Filch having just informed me so.

  ‘Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone.’

  Malfoy and a few of the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad laughed some more at that. Harry found he was so full of rage and hatred he was shaking.

  ‘It’s none of your business who I talk to,’ he snarled.

  Umbridge’s slack face seemed to tighten.

  ‘Very well,’ she said in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice. ‘Very well, Mr Potter … I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco – fetch Professor Snape.’

  Malfoy stowed Harry’s wand inside his robes and left the room smirking, but Harry hardly noticed. He had just realised something; he could not believe he had been so stupid as to forget it. He had thought that all the members of the Order, all those who could help him save Sirius, were gone – but he had been wrong. There was still a member of the Order of the Phoenix at Hogwarts – Snape.

  There was silence in the office except for the fidgetings and scufflings resulting from the Slytherins’ efforts to keep Ron and the others under control. Ron’s lip was bleeding on to Umbridge’s carpet as he struggled against Warrington’s half-nelson; Ginny was still trying to stamp on the feet of the sixth-year girl who had both her upper arms in a tight grip; Neville was turning steadily more purple in the face while tugging at Crabbe’s arms; and Hermione was attempting, in vain, to throw Millicent Bulstrode off her. Luna, however, stood limply by the side of her captor, gazing vaguely out of the window as though rather bored by the proceedings.

  Harry looked back at Umbridge, who was watching him closely. He kept his face deliberately smooth and blank as footsteps were heard in the corridor outside and Draco Malfoy came back into the room, holding open the door for Snape.

  ‘You wanted to see me, Headmistress?’ said Snape, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference.

  ‘Ah, Professor Snape,’ said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. ‘Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please.’

  ‘You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter,’ he said, observing her coolly through his greasy curtains of black hair. ‘Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient.’

  Umbridge flushed.

  ‘You can make some more, can’t you?’ she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.

  ‘Certainly,’ said Snape, his lip curling. ‘It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month.’

  ‘A month?’ squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. ‘A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!’

  ‘Really?’ said Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked round at Harry. ‘Well, it doesn’t surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules.’

  His cold, dark eyes were boring into Harry’s, who met his gaze unflinchingly, concentrating hard on what he had seen in his dream, willing Snape to read it in his mind, to understand …

  ‘I wish to interrogate him!’ shouted Umbridge angrily, and Snape looked away from Harry back into her furiously quivering face. ‘I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!’

  ‘I have already told you,’ said Snape smoothly, ‘that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter – and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did – I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling.’

  Snape looked back at Harry, who stared at him, frantic to communicate without words.

  Voldemort’s got Sirius in the Department of Mysteries, he thought desperately. Voldemort’s got Sirius –

  ‘You are on probation!’ shrieked Professor Umbridge, and Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. ‘You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!’

  Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave. Harry knew his last chance of letting the Order know what was going on was walking out of the door.

  ‘He’s got Padfoot!’ he shouted. ‘He’s got Padfoot at the place where it’s hidden!’

  Snape had stopped with his hand on Umbridge’s door handle.

  ‘Padfoot?’ cried Professor Umbridge, looking eagerly from Harry to Snape. ‘What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?’

  Snape looked round at Harry. His face was inscrutable. Harry could not tell whether he had understood or not, but he did not dare speak more plainly in front of Umbridge.

  ‘I have no idea,’ said Snape coldly. ‘Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little. If Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job.’

  He closed the door behind him with a snap, leaving Harry in a state of worse turmoil than before: Snape had been his very last hope. He looked at Umbridge, who seemed to be feeling the same way; her chest was heav
ing with rage and frustration.

  ‘Very well,’ she said, and she pulled out her wand. ‘Very well … I am left with no alternative … this is more than a matter of school discipline … this is an issue of Ministry security … yes … yes …’

  She seemed to be talking herself into something. She was shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot, staring at Harry, beating her wand against her empty palm and breathing heavily. As he watched her, Harry felt horribly powerless without his own wand.

  ‘You are forcing me, Potter … I do not want to,’ said Umbridge, still moving restlessly on the spot, ‘but sometimes circumstances justify the use … I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice …’

  Malfoy was watching her with a hungry expression on his face.

  ‘The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue,’ said Umbridge quietly.

  ‘No!’ shrieked Hermione. ‘Professor Umbridge – it’s illegal.’

  But Umbridge took no notice. There was a nasty, eager, excited look on her face that Harry had never seen before. She raised her wand.

  ‘The Minister wouldn’t want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!’ cried Hermione.

  ‘What Cornelius doesn’t know won’t hurt him,’ said Umbridge, who was now panting slightly as she pointed her wand at different parts of Harry’s body in turn, apparently trying to decide where it would hurt most. ‘He never knew I ordered Dementors to go after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same.’

  ‘It was you?’ gasped Harry. ‘You sent the Dementors after me?’

  ‘Somebody had to act,’ breathed Umbridge, as her wand came to rest pointing directly at Harry’s forehead. ‘They were all bleating about silencing you somehow – discrediting you – but I was the one who actually did something about it … only you wriggled out of that one, didn’t you, Potter? Not today though, not now –’ And taking a deep breath, she cried, ‘Cruc—’

  ‘NO!’ shouted Hermione in a cracked voice from behind Millicent Bulstrode. ‘No – Harry – we’ll have to tell her!’

  ‘No way!’ yelled Harry, staring at the little of Hermione he could see.

  ‘We’ll have to, Harry, she’ll force it out of you anyway, what’s … what’s the point?’

  And Hermione began to cry weakly into the back of Millicent Bulstrode’s robes. Millicent stopped trying to squash her against the wall immediately and dodged out of her way looking disgusted.

  ‘Well, well, well!’ said Umbridge, looking triumphant. ‘Little Miss Question-all is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!’

  ‘Er – my – nee – no!’ shouted Ron through his gag.

  Ginny was staring at Hermione as though she had never seen her before. Neville, still choking for breath, was gazing at her, too. But Harry had just noticed something. Though Hermione was sobbing desperately into her hands, there was no trace of a tear.

  ‘I’m – I’m sorry everyone,’ said Hermione. ‘But – I can’t stand it –’

  ‘That’s right, that’s right, girl!’ said Umbridge, seizing Hermione by the shoulders, thrusting her into the abandoned chintz chair and leaning over her. ‘Now then … with whom was Potter communicating just now?’

  ‘Well,’ gulped Hermione into her hands, ‘well, he was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore.’

  Ron froze, his eyes wide; Ginny stopped trying to stamp on her Slytherin captor’s toes; and even Luna looked mildly surprised. Fortunately, the attention of Umbridge and her minions was focused too exclusively upon Hermione to notice these suspicious signs.

  ‘Dumbledore?’ said Umbridge eagerly. ‘You know where Dumbledore is, then?’

  ‘Well … no!’ sobbed Hermione. ‘We’ve tried the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley and the Three Broomsticks and even the Hog’s Head –’

  ‘Idiot girl – Dumbledore won’t be sitting in a pub when the whole Ministry’s looking for him!’ shouted Umbridge, disappointment etched in every sagging line of her face.

  ‘But – but we needed to tell him something important!’ wailed Hermione, holding her hands more tightly over her face, not, Harry knew, out of anguish, but to disguise the continued absence of tears.

  ‘Yes?’ said Umbridge with a sudden resurgence of excitement. ‘What was it you wanted to tell him?’

  ‘We … we wanted to tell him it’s r – ready!’ choked Hermione.

  ‘What’s ready?’ demanded Umbridge, and now she grabbed Hermione’s shoulders again and shook her slightly. ‘What’s ready, girl?’

  ‘The … the weapon,’ said Hermione.

  ‘Weapon? Weapon?’ said Umbridge, and her eyes seemed to pop with excitement. ‘You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore’s orders, of course?’

  ‘Y – y – yes,’ gasped Hermione, ‘but he had to leave before it was finished and n – n – now we’ve finished it for him, and we c – c – can’t find him t – t – to tell him!’

  ‘What kind of weapon is it?’ said Umbridge harshly, her stubby hands still tight on Hermione’s shoulders.

  ‘We don’t r – r – really understand it,’ said Hermione, sniffing loudly. ‘We j – j – just did what P – P – Professor Dumbledore told us t – t – to do.’

  Umbridge straightened up, looking exultant.

  ‘Lead me to the weapon,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not showing … them,’ said Hermione shrilly, looking around at the Slytherins through her fingers.

  ‘It is not for you to set conditions,’ said Professor Umbridge harshly.

  ‘Fine,’ said Hermione, now sobbing into her hands again. ‘Fine … let them see it, I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you’d invite loads and loads of people to come and see! Th – that would serve you right – oh, I’d love it if the wh – whole school knew where it was, and how to u – use it, and then if you annoy any of them they’ll be able to s – sort you out!’

  These words had a powerful impact on Umbridge: she glanced swiftly and suspiciously around at her Inquisitorial Squad, her bulging eyes resting for a moment on Malfoy, who was too slow to disguise the look of eagerness and greed that had appeared on his face.

  Umbridge contemplated Hermione for another long moment, then spoke in what she clearly thought was a motherly voice.

  ‘All right, dear, let’s make it just you and me … and we’ll take Potter, too, shall we? Get up, now.’

  ‘Professor,’ said Malfoy eagerly, ‘Professor Umbridge, I think some of the Squad should come with you to look after –’

  ‘I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy, do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers alone?’ asked Umbridge sharply. ‘In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these –’ she gestured around at Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna ‘– escape.’

  ‘All right,’ said Malfoy, looking sulky and disappointed.

  ‘And you two can go ahead of me and show me the way,’ said Umbridge, pointing at Harry and Hermione with her wand. ‘Lead on.’

  — CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE —

  Fight and Flight

  Harry had no idea what Hermione was planning, or even whether she had a plan. He walked half a pace behind her as they headed down the corridor outside Umbridge’s office, knowing it would look very suspicious if he appeared not to know where they were going. He did not dare attempt to talk to her; Umbridge was walking so closely behind them that he could hear her ragged breathing.

  Hermione led the way down the stairs into the Entrance Hall. The din of loud voices and the clatter of cutlery on plates echoed from out of the double doors to the Great Hall – it seemed incredible to Harry that twenty feet away were people who were enjoying dinner, celebrating the end of exams, not a care in the world …

  Hermione walked straight out of the oak front doors and do
wn the stone steps into the balmy evening air. The sun was falling towards the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest now, and as Hermione marched purposefully across the grass – Umbridge jogging to keep up – their long dark shadows rippled over the grass behind them like cloaks.

  ‘It’s hidden in Hagrid’s hut, is it?’ said Umbridge eagerly in Harry’s ear.

  ‘Of course not,’ said Hermione scathingly. ‘Hagrid might have set it off accidentally.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Umbridge, whose excitement seemed to be mounting. ‘Yes, he would have done, of course, the great half-breed oaf.’

  She laughed. Harry felt a strong urge to swing round and seize her by the throat, but resisted. His scar was throbbing in the soft evening air but it had not yet burned white-hot, as he knew it would if Voldemort had moved in for the kill.

  ‘Then … where is it?’ asked Umbridge, with a hint of uncertainty in her voice as Hermione continued to stride towards the Forest.

  ‘In there, of course,’ said Hermione, pointing into the dark trees. ‘It had to be somewhere that students weren’t going to find it accidentally, didn’t it?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Umbridge, though she sounded a little apprehensive now. ‘Of course … very well, then … you two stay ahead of me.’

  ‘Can we have your wand, then, if we’re going first?’ Harry asked her.

  ‘No, I don’t think so, Mr Potter,’ said Umbridge sweetly, poking him in the back with it. ‘The Ministry places a rather higher value on my life than yours, I’m afraid.’

  As they reached the cool shade of the first trees, Harry tried to catch Hermione’s eye; walking into the Forest without wands seemed to him to be more foolhardy than anything they had done so far this evening. She, however, merely gave Umbridge a contemptuous glance and plunged straight into the trees, moving at such a pace that Umbridge, with her shorter legs, had difficulty in keeping up.