Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“It was your home,” said Professor Umbridge, the enjoyment stretching her toadlike face as she watched Professor Trelawney sink, sobbing uncontrollably, onto one of her trunks, “until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us.”

She stood and watched, with an expression of gloating enjoyment, as Professor Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking backward and forward on her trunk in paroxysms of grief.

Professor McGonagall broke away from the crowd, marched straight up to Professor Trelawney and patted her firmly on the back while withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes.

In the crowd, many students were silently crying along. Although many didn’t like her class, what was happening in front of them was too cruel.

“There, there, Sibyll … Calm down…” Professor McGonagall consoled her. “It’s not as bad as you think, now… You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…”

“Oh really, Professor McGonagall?” said Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. “And your authority for that statement is …?”

“That would be mine,” said a deep voice.

The oak front doors had swung open. Students beside them scuttled out of the way as Dumbledore appeared in the entrance.

He had been away from the school to help with Caresius’s recovery and seemed to have hurried back upon hearing the news.

Leaving the doors wide behind him, he strode forward through the circle of onlookers toward the place where Professor Trelawney sat, tearstained and trembling, upon her trunk, Professor McGonagall alongside her.

“Yours, Professor Dumbledore?” said Umbridge with a singularly unpleasant little laugh, pulling a parchment scroll from within her robes. “I’m afraid you do not understand the position. I have here an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she — that is to say, I — feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her.”

“Yes!” Dumbledore continued to smile. He looked down at Professor Trelawney, who was still sobbing and choking on her trunk, and said calmly, “You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid,” he went on, with a courteous little bow, “that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster; and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts.”

At this, Professor Trelawney gave a wild little laugh in which a hiccup was barely hidden.

“No — no, I’ll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere…”

“No, It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll!” said Dumbledore sharply, and he turned to Professor McGonagall, “Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?”

“Of course,” said McGonagall. “Up you get, Sibyll…”

Professor Sprout came hurrying forward out of the crowd and grabbed Professor Trelawney’s other arm. Together they guided her past Umbridge and up the marble stairs.

Professor Flitwick went scurrying after them, his wand held out before him; he squeaked, “Locomotor trunks!” and Professor Trelawney’s luggage rose into the air and proceeded up the staircase after her, Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear.

Professor Umbridge was standing stock-still, staring at Dumbledore, who continued to smile benignly.

“And what,” she said in a whisper that nevertheless carried all around the entrance hall, “are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” said Dumbledore pleasantly. “You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor.”

“You’ve found —?” said Umbridge shrilly. “You’ve found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Twenty-two —”

“— the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if — and only if — the headmaster is unable to find one,” said Dumbledore. “And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?”

He turned to face the open front doors, through which night mist was now drifting. The students heard hooves.

There was a shocked murmur around the hall and those nearest the doors hastily moved even farther backward, some of them tripping over in their haste to clear a path for the newcomer.

Through the mist came a face, white-blond hair and astonishingly blue eyes, the head and torso of a man joined to the palomino body of a horse.

“This is Firenze,” said Dumbledore happily to a thunderstruck Umbridge. “I think you’ll find him very suitable.”

Facing him, Umbridge stared in shock at the sudden appearance of the centaur.

The sudden turn of events caused a sensation within the castle. The expulsion of Professor Trelawney reached the peak of hatred from the staff and students towards Umbridge. Many didn’t like Professor Trelawney, considering her a fraud, but Umbridge’s actions were too rough and cruel!

And Professor Trelawney’s behavior in the entrance hall that evening was really pitiful.

Even Hermione, who had always had problems with her, stood by Professor Trelawney this time.

After the incident, Lavender, Parvati, and some other girls visited Professor Trelawney.

They were all the most loyal supporters of the Divination class and brought back some news.

“We went up to her office to see her, we took her some daffodils — not the honking ones that Sprout’s got, nice ones…” Lavender told them in the common room by the fireplace.

“How is she?”

“Not very good, poor thing,” said Lavender sympathetically. “She was crying and saying she’d rather leave the castle forever than stay here if Umbridge is still here, and I don’t blame her. Umbridge was horrible to her, wasn’t she?”

“I’ve got a feeling Umbridge has only just started being horrible,” said Hermione darkly.

“Impossible, she can’t get any worse than she’s been already.”

“You mark my words, she’s going to want revenge on Dumbledore for appointing a new teacher without consulting her,” said Hermione. “Especially another part-human. You saw the look on her face when she saw Firenze…”

Hermione predicted that Umbridge would retaliate, but the students’ patience with her had also reached its limit.

Evan felt that the outbreak was not far away, and the report that would be published tomorrow morning would be the trigger.

After Firenze came to the castle, Evan led everyone to visit him that evening.

He had a good relationship with the centaurs, and Hermione, Elaine, Ginny, and others were very interested in Firenze.

“Welcome!” Firenze let them into the classroom, where he would be living from now on. He surveyed everyone unblinkingly through those astonishingly blue eyes but did not smile. “It was foretold that I would be here at Hogwarts.”

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