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Chapter 39: The Attack. Part 2

28 October 1995

- Ahhh, Mr Longbottom, come in, come in," Umbridge stretched out gloatingly, not sensing that Sirius Bleak's figure, cloaked in disillusionment charms, had slipped through the door after Neville, who had entered the Defence teacher's office.

- 'Good evening, Madam Umbridge,' Neville emphasised in his voice, addressing the private person but not the professor.

- Mr Longbottom, I don't suggest you sit down, but you and I are going to have quite a long conversation. - Dolores stood up, adjusting the bow on her head and walked along the wall.

- And what is it you wish to discuss with me, madam? - Neville stopped quietly in the middle of the room, turning round to follow the teacher who was walking round.

- What I want to know is, by what right and on what authority do you make your outrageous statements every lesson? - Umbridge began to puff up, looking like a real toad.

- I beg your pardon, madam, what do you call outrageous statements? - Neville smiled politely, switching to formal language and manner.

- Your words about Potter and the supposedly revived Tom-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

- Ah, you mean the rebirth of Voldemort, madam? - Neville said the dreaded name calmly.

- The Dark Lord is long dead, Mr Longbottom, and you are trying to bring confusion into children's minds with your rash words. - Umbridge stopped in front of the young man, then, realising that she would have to look up at him from below, walked round again.

- 'Please forgive me, madam, but I trust my friend Harold Potter, and also - in the matter of Voldemort's revival - Albus Dumbledore.

- So..." Umbridge grinned. - So, you trust a precocious boy and an old wizard losing his grip more than you trust the Ministry of Magic?

- Considering that this 'immature boy', which I don't recommend repeating in front of the heir to an ancient family, managed to kill a Slytherin basilisk in his second year... Yes, I believe him more than anyone else, Madam Umbridge.

- And where is this Potter of yours now? - Umbridge kept her gaze fixed on Neville's face.

- I haven't the faintest idea, madam," he replied indifferently. - Somewhere on the beaches of South America; it's very nice there now.

- I think you do know, Mr Longbottom," Umbridge grinned wickedly. - The Ministry needs this information very badly, very badly. And anyone who reports it can count on the support of the Minister of Magic.

- BANG! BANG! - Something exploded loudly outside the door, panicked screams erupted.

- What the hell?! - Umbridge ran out of the office without even taking out her wand, and the corridor was immediately filled with some gurgling, splashing, and frantic swearing from several voices.

Neville, clutching his wand in his sleeve just in case, peered cautiously out the door, ready to recoil immediately. The picture before his eyes could have been called chaos incarnate. The entire corridor, from the entrance to the Defence office to the very corner, was a full-blown swamp, with bumps, reeds, and even a few frogs croaking in the sedge thickets. The spatial enchantments that some of the people who had done this had spared no expense in widening and deepening the corridor made the swamp deep, though passable.

Just outside the office, a small wooden boat with a toad's face adorning its nose was tied to a rough wooden post. There were a couple of random students fluttering weakly in the swamp, gradually making their way to dry ground, and the bulky figure of the lady teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Filius Flitwick, who had come round the corner and was clearly in a hurry to see the suspicious noise, clamped his hands over his mouth and blushed hard to keep from laughing out loud. The little dueling wizard's wand made several circles, pulling the trapped students out of the bog and clearing them of mud and muck. After making sure the students were okay, the professor deftly skidded over the bumps, heading towards Umbridge who was trying to get out of the mire. A honed motion with his wand pulled the woman out of the bog with a distinctive slurping sound. With the next gesture, Umbridge was instantly dry, mud falling from her clothes.

- Are you all right, colleague? - Only the keenest observer could detect the carefully concealed sneer in the half-goblin's address.

- Yes, Professor, thank you. - Umbridge was furious, but she needed the spellmaster's help now. - Would you mind helping me clean up this... mess?

- I'm sorry, madam," Flitwick bowed. - But these spells need a lot of study to remove, and there were obviously several wizards at work here.

With a wave of his wand, the little man frosted a path of ice all the way down the corridor and was gone. Umbridge gave him a look of impotent rage and returned to the office, where both Neville and the invisible Sirius Black had already slipped away, completely red from trying not to laugh. Settling into her chair, the woman unfolded the magazine she hadn't fully read, The Nagger - although she couldn't stand Xenophilius' ramblings, he sometimes reported things in his paper that weren't worth overlooking in order to inform the Minister of Magic in time. After reading Harry Potter's open letter, outraged at the Minister's initiatives against magical races, the woman had rushed to the office door, only stopping at the last moment in front of the bog. Making sure that Flitwick's icy "bridge" had already melted, she untied the boat from the pole with a sigh and swam to the end of the corridor. The toad on the bow of the boat grimaced, invisible to the woman sitting in the boat.

* * *

- Beautiful! - Sirius Black, who had come out of his invisible state, did not hide his pleasure. - While you were distracting that woman, I managed to put a stopper stone in the flowerpot so that the bog would not get into her office, but would stop neatly in front of the doors....

- Lord Black, but why? - Neville, laughing, looked at the wizard.

- 'Firstly, to make her life a little more pleasant. She's done a lot of things since the First War, so the only thing keeping her in the Ministry is her loyalty to the Minister.

- And secondly? - Augusta, who came through the door, was also smiling.

- And secondly, it was the surest way to show anyone who wanted to see her complete incompetence as a teacher. She hadn't even pulled out her wand when she'd gone down the corridor to find out what had happened. And she wouldn't be able to clean up this malignant swamp, where, by the way, there would be a toad concert at night, because she wasn't qualified. Which means that this incident will come to light at any inspection.

- Dumbledore won't make a mockery of the school, and he'll clean up your bog very quickly. - Augusta shook her head, looking at the terribly satisfied wizard.

- I don't think so. - Sirius grinned. - The swamp is now seen by the castle as just another corridor, and even the Headmaster won't be able to destroy it by brute force. I've taken care of that. The last stage of the swamp's formation was conducted by Flitwick, and he is a master of spells, while Dumbledore has never been good at the purely analytical part of magic.

- You put Flitwick up to this adventure too?

- He offered to help when he saw what I was working on. Madam Umbridge's xenophobic rantings had even the formidable half-goblin fed up.

- Well, that meant Umbridge would be sailing a boat in the near future. - Augusta sighed. - Boys...

- Well, and by the way, Madam Umbridge, before she fell into the swamp, let it slip that the Ministry was looking for Harry Potter. So... someone tipped Fudge off that Harry is wanted in England alive and well.

- Something.... Neville, text Harry today that the Minister is beginning to suspect something.

4 November 1995. Hogwarts.

- By decree of the Ministry of Magic, The Priggler newspaper is banned from distribution at Hogwarts. The Minister of Magic has stated that he will not tolerate provocative material in a place where young, unformed minds, the hope of our nation, are gathered," Neville read the article over breakfast with expression. - Our job, as the minister said, is to ensure that children have everything they need for adulthood, not to embarrass them with the ambiguous and patently false statements of people who are steeped in lies. When asked why the Minister was referring to the article written on behalf of Harry Potter, Mr Fudge said he did not understand why the boy was going against his country and its government, but suggested that Harry Potter may have been influenced by people who were not interested in the good of English wizards. The Minister concluded by calling for unity and cohesion and reiterated that the Ministry's course of action in restricting the rights of magical semi-intelligent beings remains the same.

- Neville, stop it, I'm sick of this policy. - Ron, through his slurping, managed to squeeze out a meaningful sentence.

- Neville, you're becoming more and more like your grandmother," Hermione, who was more observant, looked at the boy who had lost a lot of weight in two months. - You're becoming more interested in politics, more calm and confident.

She smiled at the boy, remembering Dumbledore's evening admonition, who was clearly up to something with Longbottom. Ron, despite the headmaster's direct order, looked at his friend with a certain amount of jealousy in his eyes.

- It's just that I once realised that after Hogwarts I would have to take on the burden of Head of the Longbottom family. - Neville waved his hand in the air, with the family ring on his ring finger. - And that takes a lot, you know.....

- Maybe you're right," Hermione, who hated the whole generic thing and recognised only personal achievement, had to agree, so as not to break contact.

- Hermione, Ron, you still haven't explained to me what you want me to do about Defence.

- Let's do it after breakfast, Neville, I don't want everyone listening to us. - Hermione, fluffing her brushed hair for once, left for the Gryffindor sitting room.

 Ron, rising from his seat and looking longingly at the food left on his plate, followed her.

 - And what did you want me to do? - Neville gave a friendly smile.

 - Do you think, Neville," Granger began from afar, "that we'll pass the Defence exam this year?

 - Personally, yes," Longbottom replied to their complete surprise. - 'I'm practising in the evenings and weekends.

 - Practising? - Granger literally jumped with indignation. - Why...

 - Why didn't I tell anyone about this? - Neville smiled. - 'Oh, because I'm studying with a tutor my grandmother hired for me, a retired Auror.

 Hermione, greedy for any knowledge, looked at the young man with frank envy. Ron, surprised at such unusual reticence for a friend, also looked displeased.

 - It's just that my teacher is only willing to study with me alone; he won't take a group of students. - The young man looked at his disgruntled buddies. - And besides, he charges a lot for his services. But I still don't understand what you wanted to offer me....

 - We want to organise a club... to study Defence," Granger tried to smile as openly as possible at Neville. - But we don't know where to gather it. Maybe Sirius knows a suitable place at Hogwarts?

 - Why didn't you ask him yourself?

 - After he was acquitted, Sirius spends most of his time at Bleak House, and we can't get there.

 - Okay," Neville nodded. - Why don't you try to organise this legally?

 - Dad said," Ron said with difficulty, "that Umbridge has a lot of influence with Fudge at the Ministry. All student societies organised at Hogwarts have to be approved by her.

 - She'll never approve your club," Longbottom said, rising from his seat. - I'll have Granny write to Sirius. Who will be in your society?

 - The entire fifth year of Gryffindor, plus Ron's brothers. - Hermione wrinkled her nose. - If Harry were here, you could get students from other faculties, but they won't listen to me there.

 - I hope some secrecy is taken care of? - Neville furrowed his eyebrows. - 'If Umbridge finds out what you're going to do - there'll be trouble for everyone, at least you'll definitely be stripped of your Faculty Heads badges...'

 Hermione pulled out a parchment, scribbled with the text of the oath.

 - This parchment is enchanted, so whoever signs it is signing a magical contract of non-disclosure.

 - Clever," Neville nodded approvingly. - What if you break the oath?

 - You'd get pimples on your face," Ron looked at his girlfriend.

 - Can you really cast spells like that, Hermie?

 Hermione flew up on the spot, staring indignantly at the red-haired boy.

 - UNFDR stop shortening my name! - The girl's angry shriek echoed through the living room. Neville took advantage of the fact that the attention in the living room had been diverted to the quarrelling Heads, and went to his room.

 

* * *

 - So the Minister has decided to retaliate? - I glanced anxiously at Jean-Claude and James, who were studying the English press.

 - It was to be expected," James said, tossing aside the last sheet of paper and stretching melancholically. - As soon as you took a swing at something more serious than an information attack on Hogwarts, the Ministry reacted sharply, not surprisingly at the instigation of Malfoy Senior.

 - Basically, it doesn't change anything... - Jean-Claude grumbled. - Sooner or later we'll have to start our own newspaper, because now our little business is funded not only by you and Lord Bleak, but also by allies in England.

 - The Ministry has already made one mistake..." James laughed quietly, but very gloatingly. - They should have concentrated on attacking you directly, Mr Potter. So they banned the Priggler, giving this not-so-popular paper a great advertisement. I reckon Xenophilius Lovegood's sales will double or triple in a week's time.

 - What about the moon? - I'm thinking.

 - M-yes, that's going to be a bit of a problem. - Jean-Claude rubbed his temples with his hands. - To be honest, she'd be the weakest link in the whole Lovegood newspaper thing. If the editor himself is not much to pin down - he has a private newspaper, distributed and produced with his own money, but his daughter at Hogwarts....

 - I understand from Neville Longbottom's letters that they're friends with Luna. I could ask him to look after the girl, especially since one of the members of the Board of Trustees and the Wizengamot, Augusta Longbottom, is always present at the school.

- Yes, Lady Augusta can stand up for both herself and Luna if she shows up on time. And Sirius Black will back us up if necessary as a rather influential member of the Wizengamot. - James, already acquainted with those allies of mine from England who could be trusted with the secret about my French hideout, nodded his head.

- But if the Ministry brings formal charges against Xenophilius and tries to press him through his daughter - then it will be very, very bad. - Jean-Claude thought for a moment. - From what I've learnt about Fudge, he's a very cunning and not very clean-cut man who won't be deterred by the need to overstep his authority.

- And then?

- And then Miss Lovegood will be in very big trouble, and we'll have a hard time dealing with it. But we still need the Xenophilius paper. So ask Lord Black to make the girl an emergency portal, once she's out or she's taken outside of Hogwarts, she can move, for example, to the Black mansion to the guest rooms.

- Okay... I'll pass on the portal suggestion to my godfather.

---

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