Chapter 562: Out of Breath!!
After Divination class, it was time for Umbridge's Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Darren didn't go. As always, he had no desire to see Umbridge at all.
As for Umbridge—ever since she had her memory erased and believed she'd taught Darren a hard lesson, she still felt a vague sense of jealousy toward him.
So now, she didn't bother with him at all.
It was likely that all her anger was being vented on Harry instead.
Of course, Harry always gave Umbridge plenty of opportunities to punish him badly. Truly.
As soon as that lesson ended, Harry was confined once again.
He was too embarrassed to tell Darren himself, but Ron slipped it out. Darren glanced at Harry helplessly several times.
Each look made Harry feel even worse.
He wanted to say that Darren was also openly against Umbridge—but when he met Darren's eyes, he just couldn't bring himself to say it.
Fortunately, Darren didn't say anything either.
He only shook his head, sighed briefly, and then handed Harry some potions.
Some of them had been given to Darren by others; some he had requested from Madam Pomfrey.
The effects were decent.
They didn't prevent scars entirely, but at least they dulled the pain.
But because the pain wasn't too bad, it also made Harry bolder. He was already planning to provoke Umbridge in every single lesson.
However, it wasn't Darren who put a damper on his plan—it was Angelina.
Angelina was furious when she found out Harry had been confined again.
She shouted in the Great Hall, "Potter! Do you even want to play Quidditch anymore? You haven't been to evening training in ages!"
Harry was mortified.
He wanted her to lower her voice, but she only got louder.
"Wood's gone, you know! It's hard enough for me to manage things on my own, and you're still causing trouble!"
"Angelina Johnson, what do you think you're doing, shouting in the Great Hall? Gryffindor, ten points deducted!"
It was Professor McGonagall.
She strode over, clearly angry.
"Out of all the Houses, Gryffindor is the noisiest. Perhaps you've forgotten that we haven't won the House Cup in years!"
Angelina pointed at Harry, grinding her teeth. "Professor, he's been confined again, and he even argued—"
"That is not a reason to shout here. Go back."
Professor McGonagall shot her a sharp look.
Angelina snorted at Harry, then turned and walked away.
Professor McGonagall turned to face Harry.
Her face was flushed with anger as she said, "So, after my warning, you've been confined again?"
Harry nodded weakly.
Still, he protested angrily, "She won't let us use our wands—"
"But she is a professor. And I think that if you confront her again, I'll confine you myself."
"Professor!"
Harry stared at her in disbelief. Professor McGonagall nodded firmly.
"That's right. Exactly what you think. If you do it again, even if Darren wouldn't dare scold you, I certainly will."
"Don't think I don't know what methods you're using. Darren has already spoken to me about you!"
With that, Professor McGonagall left as well.
Harry stared after her, on the verge of tears.
He had finally managed to persuade Darren, and now his new roadblock was Professor McGonagall.
Fortunately, aside from Angelina and Professor McGonagall, no one else commented on what he'd been doing lately.
Of course, it was also possible people wanted to criticize him—but Harry simply ignored them.
He remained annoyed with Professor McGonagall.
But the very next day, during Transfiguration class, he forgot all about it the moment he saw Umbridge.
Umbridge had come to observe Professor McGonagall's lesson.
Harry immediately straightened.
He watched Professor McGonagall carefully.
Professor McGonagall behaved as though she hadn't noticed Umbridge at all, handing out homework as usual.
Then she instructed Seamus to distribute a box of rats.
"In our last lesson, we tested the use of the Snail Vanishing Spell. It's good to see that everyone can now make the snail disappear—even Mr. Longbottom met my requirements."
"Ahem!"
Umbridge coughed loudly, trying to draw attention. Professor McGonagall ignored her.
She continued calmly, "Today, our focus will be—"
"Ahem!"
Umbridge coughed again.
Professor McGonagall finally turned to her, brows furrowing. "Yes?"
"I believe you received my notice regarding the class inspection, with the date and time clearly stated."
"Of course I received it," Professor McGonagall replied coolly. "Otherwise, I would have asked what you were doing here."
Then she turned back to the students.
"Vanishing a snail is a basic application of the Vanishing Spell, due to its nature as an invertebrate—"
"Ahem! Cough! Cough!"
Umbridge coughed yet again. Professor McGonagall shot her an icy glare.
"I would appreciate it if you stopped interrupting me. Otherwise, how are you meant to assess the quality of my teaching?"
"And when I am speaking, I do not allow interruptions."
Her tone was sharp and absolute.
Umbridge looked as though she'd swallowed something foul. Darren almost laughed.
Then he noticed Professor McGonagall wink at him. Harry grinned.
He whispered, "And you said you wouldn't let me argue with her."
But he was clearly in much better spirits now, his earlier anger completely gone.
"As I was saying," Professor McGonagall continued, "snails are relatively easy to vanish. Today, however, we'll be working with rats. Darren succeeded quite excellently in practice."
For the entire double Transfiguration lesson, Umbridge didn't move an inch.
She knew Professor McGonagall wouldn't allow her to speak—and certainly wouldn't allow her to wander around freely.
When Professor McGonagall dismissed the class, Umbridge finally stood, her face carefully composed.
"How many years have you been teaching at Hogwarts?"
She clearly meant it as a threat.
Professor McGonagall replied impatiently, "Nearly thirty-nine years. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another class to attend."
Umbridge's face flushed red. She snapped her book shut.
"You will receive the results of this inspection within ten days," she said sharply.
"As you wish," Professor McGonagall replied.
Darren watched Umbridge storm out.
He was about to say goodbye when Professor McGonagall walked over, smiling faintly as she lowered her voice.
"Well? Out of breath?"
"Completely," Darren replied.