Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (92 page)

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.’

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 down 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.

‘Is it very far in?’ Umbridge asked, as her robe ripped on a bramble.

‘Oh yes,’ said Hermione, ‘yes, it’s well hidden.’

Harry’s misgivings increased. Hermione was not taking the path they had followed to visit Grawp, but the one he followed three years ago to the lair of the monster Aragog. Hermione had not been with him on that occasion; he doubted she had any idea what danger lay at the end of it.

‘Er – are you sure this is the right way?’ he asked her pointedly.

‘Oh yes,’ she said in a steely voice, crashing through the undergrowth with what he thought was a wholly unnecessary amount of noise. Behind them, Umbridge tripped over a fallen sapling. Neither of them paused to help her up again; Hermione merely strode on, calling loudly over her shoulder, ‘It’s a bit further in!’

‘Hermione, keep your voice down,’ Harry muttered, hurrying to catch up with her. ‘Anything could be listening in here –’

‘I want us heard,’ she answered quietly, as Umbridge jogged noisily after them. ‘You’ll see …’

They walked on for what seemed a long time, until they were once again so deep into the Forest that the dense tree canopy blocked out all light. Harry had the feeling he had had before in the Forest, one of being watched by unseen eyes.

‘How much further?’ demanded Umbridge angrily from behind him.

‘Not far now!’ shouted Hermione, as they emerged into a dim, dank clearing. ‘Just a little bit –’

An arrow flew through the air and landed with a menacing thud in the tree just over her head. The air was suddenly full of the sound of hooves; Harry could feel the Forest floor trembling; Umbridge gave a little scream and pushed him in front of her like a shield –

He wrenched himself free of her and turned. Around fifty centaurs were emerging on every side, their bows raised and loaded, pointing at Harry, Hermione and Umbridge. They backed slowly into the centre of the clearing, Umbridge uttering odd little whimpers of terror. Harry looked sideways at Hermione. She was wearing a triumphant smile.

‘Who are you?’ said a voice.

Harry looked left. The chestnut-bodied centaur called Magorian was walking towards them out of the circle: his bow, like those of the others, was raised. On Harry’s right, Umbridge was still whimpering, her wand trembling violently as she pointed it at the advancing centaur.

‘I asked you who are you, human,’ said Magorian roughly.

‘I am Dolores Umbridge!’ said Umbridge in a high-pitched, terrified voice. ‘Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic and Headmistress and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts!’

‘You are from the Ministry of Magic?’ said Magorian, as many of the centaurs in the surrounding circle shifted restlessly.

‘That’s right!’ said Umbridge, in an even higher voice, ‘so be very careful! By the laws laid down by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, any attack by half-breeds such as yourselves on a human –’

‘
What
did you call us?’ shouted a wild-looking black centaur, whom Harry recognised as Bane. There was a great deal of angry muttering and tightening of bowstrings around them.

‘Don’t call them that!’ Hermione said furiously, but Umbridge did not appear to have heard her. Still pointing her shaking wand at Magorian, she continued, ‘Law Fifteen “B” states clearly that “any attack by a magical creature who is deemed to have near-human intelligence, and therefore considered responsible for its actions –”’

‘“Near-human intelligence”?’ repeated Magorian, as Bane and several others roared with rage and pawed the ground. ‘We consider that a great insult, human! Our intelligence, thankfully, far outstrips your own.’

‘What are you doing in our Forest?’ bellowed the hard-faced grey centaur Harry and Hermione had seen on their last trip into the Forest. ‘Why are you here?’

‘
Your
Forest?’ said Umbridge, shaking now not only with fright but also, it seemed, with indignation. ‘I would remind you that you live here only because the Ministry of Magic permits you certain areas of land –’

An arrow flew so close to her head that it caught at her mousy hair in passing: she let out an ear-splitting scream and threw her hands over her head, while some of the centaurs bellowed their approval and others laughed raucously. The sound of their wild, neighing laughter echoing around the dimly lit clearing and the sight of their pawing hooves was extremely unnerving.

‘Whose Forest is it now, human?’ bellowed Bane.

‘Filthy half-breeds!’ she screamed, her hands still tight over her head. ‘Beasts! Uncontrolled animals!’

‘Be quiet!’ shouted Hermione, but it was too late: Umbridge pointed her wand at Magorian and screamed,
‘Incarcerous!’

Ropes flew out of midair like thick snakes, wrapping themselves tightly around the centaur’s torso and trapping his arms: he gave a cry of rage and reared on to his hind legs, attempting to free himself, while the other centaurs charged.