Umbridge stood up and walked over to the mirror.
The woman in the mirror wore pink, her face puffy from lack of sleep.
But her eyes were bright.
"This isn't a theoretical success."
She turned sideways and lifted her chin as she spoke to the mirror.
"This is a success at the level of muscle memory. Even his body made the choice for him. Even his body chose my textbook."
She nodded in satisfaction.
Then her gaze returned to the newspaper.
To the right-hand column.
The bold black headline.
There were only cold black letters, like a gravestone.
"Seventeen Wizarding Families Send Joint Letter to Wizengamot-Demand Investigation into Whether Hogwarts' 'Militarized Work-and-Rest Regulations' Violate Underage Wizard Protection Act."
The subheading read: "Anonymous parent says children sleep only four hours a day, raising concerns about their mental state."
Seventeen.
A joint letter.
The Wizengamot.
"Seventeen."
"Seventeen families."
She turned the newspaper to the second page.
The full text of the joint letter had been printed there.
Her eyes swept rapidly over the signatures.
She identified them name by name.
"Greengrass."
She read it aloud.
"Parkinson."
"Nott."
"Warrington."
"Flint."
The corners of her mouth finally drooped completely.
"All pure-bloods."
She laid the newspaper on the desk and pressed it flat with her palm.
"Of the seventeen families, at least eleven are pure-blood families."
She stood up and began pacing around the office.
Her pink slippers made almost no sound on the carpet.
But her breathing grew heavier.
"Their children."
"Just happen to be regulars on the White List."
"Just happen to be the ones ranked at the bottom in the Monthly Exams."
She stopped, her lips spreading into a cruel smile.
She turned to face the newspaper on the desk.
"This isn't a challenge to educational methods. This is fear of fair