Harry Potter 05 - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

them and then turned to Neville.
    ‘You can see the Thestrals, Longbottom, can you?’ she said.
    Neville nodded.
    ‘Who did you see die?’ she asked, her tone indifferent.
    ‘My … my grandad,’ said Neville.
    ‘And what do you think of them?’ she said, waving her stubby hand at the horses, who by now had stripped a great deal of the carcass down to bone.
    ‘Erm,’ said Neville nervously, with a glance at Hagrid. ‘Well, they’re … er … OK …’
    ‘Students … are … too … intimidated … to … admit … they … are … frightened,’ muttered Umbridge, making another note on her clipboard.
    ‘No!’ said Neville, looking upset. ‘No, I’m not scared of them!’
    ‘It’s quite all right,’ said Umbridge, patting Neville on the shoulder with what she evidently intended to be an understanding smile, though it looked more like a leer to Harry. ‘Well, Hagrid,’ she turned to look up at him again, speaking once more in that loud, slow voice, ‘I think I’ve got enough to be getting along with. You will receive’ (she mimed taking something from the air in front of her) ‘the results of your inspection’ (she pointed at the clipboard) ‘in ten days’ time.’ She held up ten stubby little fingers, then, her smile wider and more toadlike than ever before beneath her green hat, she bustled from their midst, leaving Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson in fits of laughter, Hermione actually shaking with fury and Neville looking confused and upset.
    ‘That foul, lying, twisting old gargoyle!’ stormed Hermione half an hour later, as they made their way back up to the castle through the channels they had made earlier in the snow. ‘You see what she’s up to? It’s her thing about half-breeds all over again – she’s trying to make out Hagrid’s some kind of dimwitted troll, just because he had a giantess for a mother – and oh, it’s not fair, that really wasn’t a bad lesson at all – I mean, all right, if it had been Blast-Ended Skrewts again, but Thestrals are fine – in fact, for Hagrid, they’re really good!’
    ‘Umbridge said they’re dangerous,’ said Ron.
    ‘Well, it’s like Hagrid said, they can look after themselves,’ said Hermione impatiently, ‘and I suppose a teacher like Grubbly-Plank wouldn’t usually show them to us before N.E.W.T. level, but, well, they are very interesting, aren’t they? The way some people can see them and some can’t! I wish I could.’
    ‘Do you?’ Harry asked her quietly.
    She looked suddenly horrorstruck.
    ‘Oh, Harry – I’m sorry – no, of course I don’t – that was a really stupid thing to say.’
    ‘It’s OK,’ he said quickly, ‘don’t worry.’
    ‘I’m surprised so many people could see them,’ said Ron. ‘Three in a class –’
    ‘Yeah, Weasley, we were just wondering,’ said a malicious voice. Unheard by any of them in the muffling snow, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were walking along right behind them. ‘D’you reckon if you saw someone snuff it you’d be able to see the Quaffle better?’
    He, Crabbe and Goyle roared with laughter as they pushed past on their way to the castle, then broke into a chorus of ‘Weasley is our King’. Ron’s ears turned scarlet.
    ‘Ignore them, just ignore them,’ intoned Hermione, pulling out her wand and performing the charm to produce hot air again, so that she could melt them an easier path through the untouched snow between them and the greenhouses.
    *
    December arrived, bringing with it more snow and a positive avalanche of homework for the fifth-years. Ron and Hermione’s prefect duties also became more and more onerous as Christmas approached. They were called upon to supervise the decoration of the castle (‘You try putting up tinsel when Peeves has got the other end and is trying to strangle you with it,’ said Ron), to watch over first- and second-years spending their break-times inside because of the bitter cold (‘And they’re cheeky little snot-rags, you know, we definitely weren’t that rude when we were in first year,’ said Ron) and to patrol the corridors in shifts with Argus Filch, who suspected that the holiday spirit might show itself in an outbreak of wizard duels (‘He’s got dung for brains, that one,’ said Ron furiously). They were so busy that Hermione had even stopped knitting elf hats and was fretting that she was down to her last three.
    ‘All those poor elves I haven’t set free yet, having to stay here over Christmas because