Saturday arrived, and Jerry still had not heard from that old man Dumbledore.
If you're going to neglect your duties like this, Dumbledore, you might as well hand the headmaster's position over to me. Go find somewhere nobody knows you and Grindelwald, and retire there together.
Jerry stepped into Umbridge's rather oppressive Defence Against the Dark Arts office. The smell of decaying parchment mingled with the cloying sweetness of the pink curtains and washed over him.
"My second detention, Umbridge." Jerry casually took a seat beside the small table.
"Where are the parchment and quill?" A teasing smile curled at the corners of Jerry's mouth. "What do I need to write today?"
"It's Professor Umbridge." In a rare departure, her usual false smile had vanished. Even the pearl necklace at her throat seemed to have lost its lustre, cinching tightly around her neck. "I am a professor at this school!"
"Oh? A professor?" Jerry shook his head scornfully. "You're just a pawn Fudge forced into Hogwarts. The sort he can discard at any time!"
Umbridge kept her sinister gaze fixed on Jerry.
"Jerry Green, if it were you, what would you need me to do?" Umbridge abruptly changed tack, the hatred on her face vanishing in an instant.
"Continue implementing the Ministry of Magic's educational reforms, of course!" Jerry's tone was thoroughly amiable, and a faint smile remained on his face throughout.
"Have you gone mad?" Umbridge's voice trembled. She had never imagined Jerry would say such a thing. She had assumed he wanted to use her against Fudge, or obtain evidence from her that would damage him. Yet Jerry's ambitions went far beyond anything she had imagined.
Umbridge had spent the past few days turning the matter over in her mind, thinking she might probe him during detention. But