BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and dubs are henceforth
An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular
meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the
knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation, society,
team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor
Harry and Ron read the notice over the heads of some anxious-looking second-years.
'Does this mean they're going to shut down the Gobstones Club?' one of them
asked his friend.
'I reckon you'll be OK with Gobstones,' Ron said darkly, making the second-year
jump. 'I don't think we're going to be as lucky, though, do you?' he asked Harry
as the second-years hurried away.
Harry was reading the notice through again. The happiness that had filled
him since Saturday was gone. His insides were pulsing with rage.
This isn't a coincidence,' he said, his hands forming fists. 'She knows.'
'She can't,' said Ron at once.
There were people listening in that pub. And let's face it, we don't know
how many of the people who turned up we can trust: any of them could have run
off and told Umbridge:'
And he had thought they believed him, thought they even admired him:
'Zacharias Smith!' said Ron at once, punching a fist into his hand. 'Or -
I thought that Michael Corner had a really shifty look, too -'
'I wonder if Hermione's seen this yet?' Harry said, looking round at the
door to the girls' dormitories.
'Let's go and tell her,' said Ron. He bounded forwards, pulled open the door
and set off up the spiral staircase.
He was on the sixth stair when there was a loud, wailing, klaxon-like sound
and the steps melted together to make a long, smooth stone slide like a helter-skelter.
There was a brief moment when Ron tried to keep running, arms working madly
like windmills, then he toppled over backwards and shot down the newly created
slide, coming to rest on his back at Harry's feet.
'Er - I don't think we're allowed in the girls' dormitories,' said Harry,
pulling Ron to his feet and trying not to laugh.
Two fourth-year girls came zooming gleefully down the stone slide.
'Oooh, who tried to get upstairs?' they giggled happily, leaping to their
feet and ogling Harry and Ron.
'Me,' said Ron, who was still rather dishevelled. 'I didn't realise that
would happen. It's not fair!' he added to Harry, as the girls headed off for
the portrait hole, still giggling madly. 'Hermione's allowed in our dormitory,
how come we're not allowed -?'
'Well, it's an old-fashioned rule,' said Hermione, who had just slid neatly
on to a rug in front of them and was now getting to her feet, 'but it says in
Hogwarts: A History, that the founders thought boys were less trustworthy than
girls. Anyway, why were you trying to get in there?'
'To see you - look at this!' said Ron, dragging her over to the noticeboard.
Hermione's eyes slid rapidly down the notice. Her expression became stony.
'Someone must have blabbed to her!' Ron said angrily.
They can't have done,' said Hermione in a low voice.
'You're so naive,' said Ron, 'you think just because you're all honourable
and trustworthy -'
'No, they can't have done, because I put a jinx on that piece of parchment
we all signed,' said Hermione grimly. 'Believe me, if anyone's run off and told
Umbridge, we'll know exactly who they are and they will really regret it.'
'What'll happen to them?' said Ron eagerly.
'Well, put it this way' said Hermione, 'it'll make Eloise Midgeon's acne
look like a couple of cute freckles. Come on, let's get down to breakfast and
see what the others think: I wonder whether this has been put up in all the
It was immediately apparent on entering the Great Hall that Umbridge's sign
had not only appeared in Gryffindor Tower. There was a peculiar intensity about
the chatter and an extra measure of movement in the Hall as people scurried
up and down their tables conferring on what they had read. Harry, Ron and Hermione
had barely taken their seats when Neville, Dean, Fred, George and Ginny descended
'Did you see it?'
'D'you reckon she knows?'
'What are we going to do?'
They were all looking at Harry. He glanced around to make sure there were
no teachers near them.
'We're going to do it anyway of course,' he said quietly.
'Knew you'd say that,' said George, beaming and thumping Harry on the arm.
The prefects as well?' said Fred, looking quizzically at Ron and Hermione.
'Of course,' said Hermione coolly.
'Here come Ernie and Hannah Abbott,' said Ron, looking over his shoulder.
'And those Ravenclaw blokes and Smith: and no one looks very spotty.'
Hermione looked alarmed.
'Never mind spots, the idiots can't come over here now, it'll look really
suspicious - sit down!' she mouthed to Ernie and Hannah, gesturing frantically
to them to rejoin the Hufflepuff table. 'Later! We'll - talk - to - you - later!'
I'll tell Michael,' said Ginny impatiently, swinging herself off her bench,
'the fool, honestly:'
She hurried off towards the Ravenclaw table; Harry watched her go. Cho was
sitting not far away, talking to the curly-haired friend she had brought along
to the Hog's Head. Would Umbridge's notice scare her off meeting them again?
But the full repercussions of the sign were not felt until they were leaving
the Great Hall for History of Magic.
It was Angelina and she was hurrying towards them looking perfectly desperate.
'It's OK,' said Harry quietly, when she was near enough to hear him. 'We're
still going to -'
'You realise she's including Quidditch in this?' Angelina said over him.
'We have to go and ask permission to re-form the Gryffindor team!'
'What?' said Harry.
'No way,' said Ron, appalled.
'You read the sign, it mentions teams too! So listen, Harry: I am saying
this for the last time: please, please don't lose your temper with Umbridge
again or she might not let us play any more!'
'OK, OK,' said Harry, for Angelina looked as though she was on the verge
of tears. 'Don't worry, I'll behave myself:'
'Bet Umbridge is in History of Magic,' said Ron grimly, as they set off for
Binns's lesson. 'She hasn't inspected Binns yet: bet you anything she's there:'
But he was wrong; the only teacher present when they entered was Professor
Binns, floating an inch or so above his chair as usual and preparing to continue
his monotonous drone on giant wars. Harry did not even attempt to follow what
he was saying today; he doodled idly on his parchment ignoring Hermiones frequent
glares and nudges, until a particularly painful poke in the ribs made him look
She pointed at the window. Harry looked round. Hedwig was perched on the
narrow window ledge, gazing through the thick glass at him, a letter tied to
her leg. Harry could not understand it; they had just had breakfast, why on
earth hadn't she delivered the letter then, as usual? Many of his classmates
were pointing out Hedwig to each other, too.
'Oh, I've always loved that owl, she's so beautiful,' Harry heard Lavender
sigh to Parvati.
He glanced round at Professor Binns who continued to read his notes, serenely
unaware that the class's attention was even less focused upon him than usual.
Harry slipped quietly off his chair, crouched down and hurried along the row
to the window, where he slid the catch and opened it very slowly.
He had expected Hedwig to hold out her leg so that he could remove the letter
and then fly off to the Owlery but the moment the window was open wide enough
she hopped inside, hooting dolefully. He closed the window with an anxious glance
at Professor Binns, crouched low again and sped back to his seat with Hedwig
on his shoulder. He regained his seat, transferred Hedwig to his lap and made
to remove the letter tied to her leg.
Only then did he realise that Hedwig's feathers were oddly ruffled; some
were bent the wrong way, and she was holding one of her wings at an odd angle.
'She's hurt!' Harry whispered, bending his head low over her. Hermione and
Ron leaned in closer; Hermione even put down her quill. 'Look - there's something
wrong with her wing -'
Hedwig was quivering; when Harry made to touch the wing she gave a little
jump, all her feathers on end as though she was inflating herself, and gazed
at him reproachfully.
'Professor Binns,' said Harry loudly, and everyone in the class turned to
look at him. 'I'm not feeling well.'
Professor Binns raised his eyes from his notes, looking amazed, as always,
to find the room in front of him full of people.
'Not feeling well?' he repeated hazily.
'Not at all well,' said Harry firmly getting to his feet with Hedwig concealed
behind his back. 'I think I need to go to the hospital wing.'
'Yes,' said Professor Binns, clearly very much wrong-footed. 'Yes: yes, hospital
wing: well, off you go, then, Perkins:'
Once outside the room, Harry returned Hedwig to his shoulder and hurried
off up the corridor, pausing to think only when he was out of sight of Binns's
door. His first choice of somebody to cure Hedwig would have been Hagrid, of
course, but as he had no idea where Hagrid was his only remaining option was
to find Professor Grubbly-Plank and hope she would help.
He peered out of a window at the blustery, overcast grounds. There was no
sign of her anywhere near Hagrid's cabin; if she was not teaching, she was probably
in the staff room. He set off downstairs, Hedwig hooting feebly as she swayed
on his shoulder.
Two stone gargoyles flanked the staff-room door. As Harry approached, one
of them croaked, 'You should be in class, Sonny Jim.'
This is urgent,' said Harry curtly.
'Ooooh, urgent, is it?' said the other gargoyle in a high-pitched voice.
'Well, that's put us in our place, hasn't it?'
Harry knocked. He heard footsteps, then the door opened and he found himself
face to face with Professor McGonagall.
'You haven't been given another detention!' she said at once, her square
spectacles flashing alarmingly.
'No, Professor!' said Harry hastily.
'Well then, why are you out of class?'
'It's urgent, apparently,' said the second gargoyle snidery.
'I'm looking for Professor Grubbly-Plank,' Harry explained. 'It's my owl,
'Injured owl, did you say?'
Professor Grubbly-Plank appeared at Professor McGonagall's shoulder, smoking
a pipe and holding a copy of the Daily Prophet.
'Yes,' said Harry, lifting Hedwig carefully off his shoulder, 'she turned
up after the other post owls and her wing's all funny, look -'
Professor Grubbly-Plank stuck her pipe firmly between her teeth and took
Hedwig from Harry while Professor McGonagall watched.
'Hmm,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank, her pipe waggling slightly as she talked.
'Looks like something's attacked her. Can't think what would have done it, though.
Thestrals will sometimes go for birds, of course, but Hagrid's got the Hogwarts
Thestrals well-trained not to touch owls.'
Harry neither knew nor cared what Thestrals were; he just wanted to know
that Hedwig was going to be all right. Professor McGonagall, however, looked
sharply at Harry and said, 'Do you know how far this owl's travelled, Potter?'
'Er,' said Harry. 'From London, I think.'
He met her eyes briefly and knew, by the way her eyebrows had joined in the
middle, that she understood 'London' to mean 'number twelve, Grimmauld Place'.
Professor Grubbly-Plank pulled a monocle out of the inside of her robes and
screwed it into her eye, to examine Hedwig's wing closely. 'I should be able
to sort this out if you leave her with me, Potter,' she said, 'she shouldn't
be flying long distances for a few days, in any case.'
'Er - right - thanks,' said Harry, just as the bell rang for break.
'No problem,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank gruffly, turning back into the
'Just a moment, Wilhelmina!' said Professor McGonagall. 'Potters letter!'
'Oh yeah!' said Harry, who had momentarily forgotten the scroll tied to Hedwig's
leg. Professor Grubbly-Plank handed it over and then disappeared into the staff
room carrying Hedwig, who was staring at Harry as though unable to believe he
would give her away like this. Feeling slightly guilty, he turned to go, but
Professor McGonagall called him back.
She glanced up and down the corridor; there were students coming from both
'Bear in mind,' she said quickly and quietly, her eyes on the scroll in his
hand, 'that channels of communication in and out of Hogwarts may be being watched,