Hannah Abbott’s eyes were as round as Galleons.
“And that’s not to mention,” said Cho (Harry’s eyes snapped onto her, she was looking at him, smiling; his stomach did another somersault), “all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things . . .”
There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table. Harry’s insides were squirming. He was trying to arrange his face so that he did not look too pleased with himself. The fact that Cho had just praised him made it much, much harder for him to say the thing he had sworn to himself he would tell them.
“Look,” he said and everyone fell silent at once, “I . . . I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to be modest or anything, but . . . I had a lot of help with all that stuff . . .”
“Not with the dragon, you didn’t,” said Michael Corner at once. “That was a seriously cool bit of flying . . .”
“Yeah, well —” said Harry, feeling it would be churlish to disagree.
“And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer,” said Susan Bones.
“No,” said Harry, “no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I’m trying to make is —”
“Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?” said Zacharias Smith.
“Here’s an idea,” said Ron loudly, before Harry could speak, “why don’t you shut your mouth?”
Perhaps the word “weasel” had affected Ron particularly strongly; in any case, he was now looking at Zacharias as though he would like nothing better than to thump him. Zacharias flushed.
“Well, we’ve all turned up to learn from him, and now he’s telling us he can’t really do any of it,” he said.
“That’s not what he said,” snarled Fred Weasley.
“Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?” inquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko’s bags.
“Or any part of your body, really, we’re not fussy where we stick this,” said Fred.
“Yes, well,” said Hermione hastily, “moving on . . . the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?”
There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folded his arms and said nothing, though perhaps this was because he was too busy keeping an eye on the instrument in George’s hand.
“Right,” said Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. “Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don’t think there’s any point in meeting less than once a week —”
“Hang on,” said Angelina, “we need to make sure this doesn’t clash with our Quidditch practice.”
“No,” said Cho, “nor with ours.”
“Nor ours,” added Zacharias Smith.
“I’m sure we can find a night that suits everyone,” said Hermione, slightly impatiently, “but you know, this is rather important, we’re talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort’s Death Eaters —”
“Well said!” barked Ernie Macmillan, whom Harry had been expecting to speak long before this. “Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we’ll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!”
He looked around impressively, as though waiting for people to cry, “Surely not!” When nobody spoke, he went on, “I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells —”
“We think the reason Umbridge doesn’t want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts,” said Hermione, “is that she’s got some . . . some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he’d mobilize us against the Ministry.”
Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybody except Luna Lovegood, who piped up, “Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army.”
“What?” said Harry, completely thrown by this unexpected piece of information.
“Yes, he’s got an army of heliopaths,” said Luna solemnly.
“No, he hasn’t,” snapped Hermione.
“Yes, he has,” said Luna.
“What are heliopaths?” asked Neville, looking blank.
“They’re spirits of fire,” said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. “Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —”
“They don’t exist, Neville,” said Hermione tartly.
“Oh yes they do!” said Luna angrily.
“I’m sorry, but where’s the proof of that?” snapped Hermione.
“There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —”
“Hem, hem,” said Ginny in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. “Weren’t we trying to decide how often we’re going to meet and get Defense lessons?”
“Yes,” said Hermione at once, “yes, we were, you’re right . . .”
“Well, once a week sounds cool,” said Lee Jordan.
“As long as —” began Angelina.
“Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch,” said Hermione in a tense voice. “Well, the other thing to decide is where we’re going to meet . . .”
This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.
“Library?” suggested Katie Bell after a few moments.
“I can’t see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library,” said Harry.
“Maybe an unused classroom?” said Dean.