Flitwick hopped down from his raised chair and brushed the chalk dust off his robes.
"Douglas."
His voice suddenly turned very serious.
"She isn't a fool. If she opens these booklets and finds them full of Muggle terminology-"
"I'll convince her."
Douglas cut him off.
He picked up one of the finished pink booklets Dobby had just delivered.
On the flyleaf, an enormous blank signature field awaited its owner.
Douglas tucked the booklet under his arm and headed for the door.
His gaze fell on the stack of papers from the Cave prison at the corner of the desk.
"From the day I decided to make them write papers, these pages no longer belonged to them."
He pulled the door open.
The faint hubbub of students in distant classrooms echoed through the corridor.
"They belong to every child sitting in a classroom."
The door closed behind him.
Flitwick stood where he was, staring at the closed door without moving for a long while.
Dumbledore sat back down on the sofa, fished a Lemon Drop out of his pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth.
"Filius."
Flitwick turned his head.
With the sweet in his mouth, Dumbledore spoke indistinctly.
"Umbridge will come to me of her own accord tonight and ask to have these textbooks made compulsory next term."
Flitwick thought for a moment.
"I believe it."
He picked up the remaining glass of Chinese plum wine on the table and took a swig.
"But Douglas is getting more and more pretentious!"
"Indeed, they belong to every child sitting in a classroom. Ha ha."
"Ha ha... we're both getting old."
"You're getting old. I'm still young, Headmaster!"
The Academic Affairs Office was right next door.
Because Sirius was often absent.
Umbridge was a permanent fixture in the office.
So...