The next morning, Jerry took out the Marauder's Map and checked it. Dumbledore still hadn't returned. The night before, he had said he knew someone who might know a little about ancient magic, then hurried away.
Jerry gathered his textbooks and had breakfast with Hermione before they headed off to their respective classrooms.
"Jerry, don't do anything rash. Don't shout at Umbridge like Harry did. I don't want you spending your holidays in detention!" Before they parted, Hermione warned him over and over, but she still looked worried.
"Just go to class and stop worrying!" Jerry gently nudged Hermione's back. "I promise, all right?"
"Remember that!" Hermione took a few steps, then turned back to remind him. She couldn't shake her uneasy feeling. Jerry wasn't someone who would swallow an insult.
As Jerry stepped into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he noticed that Umbridge was already sitting primly behind the teacher's desk.
Umbridge wore her usual pink sweater. The black velvet bow on her head looked like an enormous fly that had unwisely settled on the back of an even larger toad.
The Slytherin students were unusually quiet as they entered the classroom. They had already written to relatives working at the Ministry of Magic and learned something of Umbridge's reputation behind closed doors. They had therefore decided to keep a low profile.
The bell rang, and Jerry quickly found a seat.
"Good morning, class!" Umbridge's face still wore the same sickly-sweet, false smile.
"Good morning!" A few indistinct mumbles answered her.
"We can't have you sounding so lifeless, can we?" Umbridge chided, a hint of displeasure crossing her face. "What I expect to hear is, 'Good morning, Professor Umbridge.' Now, let's try again. Good morning, class!"
The Slytherin students exchanged glances, then obliged in unison. "Good morning,