Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Umbridge was now probably ready to implement her education reform steadily. The last failures of  Evan and Harry and the research of many think tanks in the Ministry of Magic had made her realize that she could not rush or use magic methods. Magic was not her strong suit, and there were far too many people at Hogwarts who were better at it than she was!

If she continued to rely on her magic power, she might not even know how she was killed.

Her advantage was the authority given to her by the Ministry of Magic over Hogwarts, so she was prepared to take full advantage of it.

First, she issued two Educational Decrees after her return, canceling all student organizations and taking over the highest penalties and adjudication powers.

Second, she removed Evan from his position as the Head boy.

Finally, she continued her previous inspections and planned to expel a professor as soon as possible, forcing Dumbledore to make a mistake.

Even if that failed, she would make them feel the power of the Ministry of Magic.

Professor McGonagall and Snape were okay here. Although Umbridge didn’t like them and knew that they were Dumbledore’s right-hand people, she couldn’t say anything. They taught very well and had real abilities.

But Professor Trelawney was completely different here. Before entering the true prophetic state, she was just an old fraud.

It was unknown what Umbridge said to her, but she was teaching her classes just fine, and then suddenly had a breakdown!

“Well, carry on, what are you doing standing there?!” said Professor Trelawney loudly, her voice high pitched and somewhat hysterical. “You know what to do! Or am I such a substandard teacher that you have never learned how to open a book?”

The class stared perplexedly at her and then at each other.

Professor Trelawney flounced back to the high-backed teacher’s chair, her magnified eyes full of angry tears.

“I think she’s got the results of her inspection back!” Ginny whispered. “Umbridge sent back the results of the recent inspections yesterday. I heard from Michael that Professor McGonagall tore up the result of her inspection into pieces and threw it away in front of the whole class.”

That was very much in line with Professor McGonagall’s style, but things weren’t so easy for Professor Trelawney!

“Professor, is there anything wrong?” a student asked.

“Wrong!” cried Professor Trelawney in a voice throbbing with emotion. “Certainly not! I have been insulted, certainly… Insinuations have been made against me… Unfounded accusations levelled … but no, there is nothing wrong, certainly not…”

She took a great shuddering breath and looked away from the student, angry tears spilling from under her glasses.

“I say nothing,” she choked. “I don’t want to say it, of sixteen years’ devoted service… It has passed, apparently, unnoticed… But I shall not be insulted, no, I shall not! If there ever comes a day like that, I’ll leave by myself, rather than stay here and be insulted.”

It was clear that Professor Trelawney had nowhere to go, and if she had, she would probably leave immediately.

For a prodigy who had dedicated her life to Divination, her ability to survive outside of Hogwarts was next to nil.

Some people might come to her for Divination, but apart from vague and death omens, they wouldn’t get anything helpful from her.

As far as Evan knew, wizards with real Divination abilities were very, very rare! Similar to the situation of pure-blood wizard families, the bloodline of ancient Seers and prophets was getting thinner and thinner, and this ability was also lost, just like no pure-blood wizard could still activate the blood magic of his family.

“But Professor, who’s insulting you?”

“The establishment!” said Professor Trelawney in a deep, dramatic, wavering voice. “Yes, those with eyes too clouded by the Mundane to See as I See, to Know as I Know … Of course, we Seers have always been feared, always persecuted, since ancient times, they are afraid, afraid of the fate we See… It is — alas — our fate!”

She gulped, dabbed at her wet cheeks with the end of her shawl, and then pulled a small, embroidered handkerchief from her sleeve, into which she blew her nose very hard with a sound like Peeves blowing a raspberry.

“If you mean Umbridge…”

“Do not speak to me about that woman!” cried Professor Trelawney with all her might, leaping to her feet, her beads rattling and her spectacles flashing, “Now, Kindly continue with your work, quickly, start immediately!”

And she spent the rest of the lesson striding among them, tears still leaking from behind her glasses, muttering what sounded like threats under her breath.

“… may well choose to leave … the indignity of it … on probation … we shall see … how she dares…”

As expected, Professor Trelawney would definitely be dismissed by Umbridge, with the only exception probably being Hagrid.

If he came back, the two of them could compete to see whose class was worse, and then let Umbridge choose one.

That night in the Gryffindor common room, Evan and Colin relayed Professor Trelawney’s performance to Harry, Hermione, and Ron, when a snow-white figure suddenly slammed into the window of the common room, with a thud.

“Oh my god, it’s Hedwig, what’s going on with her?”

At this moment, Hedwig was perched on the narrow window ledge, gazing through the thick glass at them, a letter tied to her leg.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her all day. She didn’t appear this morning. I thought she went to the Forbidden Forest to hunt for food.” Harry said, walking over and opening the window to let Hedwig in. “That’s weird. Who could be writing to me?”

He expected Hedwig to hold out her leg so that he could remove the letter and then fly off to the Owlery.

But the moment the window was open wide enough she hopped inside, hooting dolefully.

Harry quickly closed the window and Hedwig perched on his shoulder.

“Who wrote you the letter? Is it Snuffles?”

“Well, it seems not. He has his own means of communication and wouldn’t use Hedwig.”

“Wait a minute, look, she’s hurt!” Hermione said. “There’s something wrong with her wing!”

Everyone noticed that Hedwig’s feathers were oddly ruffled; some were bent the wrong way, and she was quivering.

When Harry made to touch the wing she gave a little jump, all her feathers on end as though she was inflating herself, and gazed at him reproachfully.

They all looked at each other, something was not right.

“She must have been attacked, maybe there’s some wild beast around?” Ron hesitated.

“No way, Hogwarts creatures are all trained not to touch owls.”

“The injuries on her body seem to be man-made,” said Evan, looking at Hedwig’s bent feathers, “Someone must have intercepted her. We know that channels of communication in and out of Hogwarts are being watched. Someone recognized Hedwig and knew she was Harry’s owl, wanting to get the letter on her leg.”

“We all know who it is, that despicable old toad!”

“If only Hagrid were here!” Harry opened the note that Hedwig brought. “Hey, it’s a letter from Hagrid, addressed to Evan.”

“What does the letter say?”

“With the help of Madame Maxime, he is about to cross the English Channel. They cannot use magic because the whole of Britain is now closely watched by the Ministry of Magic. He’ll probably arrive at Hogwarts later this week…” Evan took the note handed over by Harry, “Hmm, apart from reporting that he’s safe, he wants me to negotiate with the Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest to see if they can clear out an area for Grawp to live in …”

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