That evening, Jerry finally finished his classes for the day and headed to the Great Hall for dinner. He had barely sat down when a group of Gryffindor students came hurrying in, fresh from their escape from Umbridge's Defence Against the Dark Arts class.
"Looks like Umbridge really got you all worked up!" Jerry teased, his gaze sweeping over their flushed faces. Neville's round face was unusually tense, even the tips of his ears red with anger.
"Umbridge is an even worse Defence Against the Dark Arts professor than Quirrell!" Hermione slammed her heavy copy of Defensive Magical Theory down beside her plate, her voice seething with fury. "I honestly don't understand how corrupt Britain's Ministry of Magic has to be to make an idiot like her Senior Deputy Minister. And Fudge actually considers her a trusted confidante!"
Jerry quickly pushed a glass of chilled pumpkin juice toward Hermione. A thin mist instantly clouded the glass, reflecting the strands of her hair that trembled slightly in her agitation.
"Ha, calm down, Miss Know-It-All," Jerry said with a chuckle. "Where's Harry? Why isn't he here?"
"He went to Professor McGonagall's office," Neville said. "Harry and Umbridge started shouting at each other in class, and she's given him detention on Friday!"
"Umbridge wouldn't let us use our wands in class. She even said we didn't need them, which is ridiculous!" Hermione gulped down her drink, then continued breathlessly, "She kept making us read the textbook, but it's nothing but the most basic theory. This is our O.W.L. year! I think she wants us to cast defensive spells for the very first time in front of the examiners during our Ordinary Wizarding Level exams!"
Before long, Harry entered the Great Hall, looking deeply aggrieved. People around him glanced his way and whispered to