Snape was the last to stand.
He did not approach the lectern.
He merely placed a sheet of parchment on the table.
"The rate of basic errors in Potions Class has risen."
"Material wastage has increased."
"Dangerous incidents have increased."
He raised his eyes.
His dark gaze swept across the room.
"If an administrator needs to prove her efficiency by depriving people of sleep."
"What she proves is not her ability to teach."
"It is that she has no other abilities."
Even Rita's quill paused for half a beat.
Then it wrote more frantically than ever.
Umbridge's face went from white to red.
Then from red to an ugly grayish pink.
"This is an organized attack."
Her voice was shrill.
"The professors resist supervision."
"The students evade pressure."
"The reporters chase sensational stories."
"The parents have been misled by rumors."
She turned sharply toward the back row.
"As for certain Ministry of Magic employees, they simply refuse to learn the new system!"
Several employees in the back row looked up at once.
One middle-aged wizard stood.
He wore ordinary gray robes and held a short statement.
"Madam Deputy Director."
"I am from the Job Certification Pilot Group."
Umbridge's voice caught.
The wizard looked toward the officials in the front row.
"We support job training."
"We support learning to use the New Equipment."
"We support wartime reorganization."
"But we oppose using public school rankings, humiliating retraining for those ranked last, and oppressive schedules as a template for administrative reform among adults."
He placed the statement on the table.
"We request that Madam Umbridge's personal pilot practices be separated from the reform."
"Preserve the reform."
"Review its implementation."
Those words were like a door opening.
The winds of Hogwarts.
The winds of the Ministry of Magic.
Collided at that very moment.
Umbridge