You're Fired (Again)!

"What happened?" Daphne heard Oleandra whisper to Tracey. "There's a weird mood around the Gryffindors today."

Daphne cast her cold gaze to the front of the Potions classroom, ignoring her sister's gossiping. Why should she care that Longbottom had tried to launch himself at Malfoy, armed with nothing but his flailing fists? Draco's quip about St Mungo's having a ward for the brain-addled having such an effect on Neville obviously meant that he had relatives or close ones in there, but it had nothing to do with them.

If Oleandra and Astoria had any sense at all, they'd stop interacting with the children of Dumbledore supporters altogether, but since they obviously weren't about to do so any time soon, Daphne certainly wasn't about to punish herself by refusing to talk to her own beloved sisters.

Oleandra and Tracey immediately fell silent the instant Professor Snape closed the classroom's door with a resounding bang.

"You will notice," said Professor Snape in a low voice, "that we have a guest with us today."

Daphne had already noticed Umbridge's presence upon entering the room. She narrowed her eyes slightly; she hadn't forgiven her for torturing her twin sister with her bloodletting quill. Umbridge was an enemy of the forest; she needed to be expunged.

"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson; if correctly made, they should have matured well over the weekend," Professor Snape said, before adding with a hint of venom in his voice, "that is, unless you happened to have found a revolutionary way to skip the ageing step, and have already finished the potion ahead of schedule..."

Daphne ignored the stares she was receiving. Potioneering was easy for her; ever since she had absorbed the knowledge from an entire grimoire on beyond N.E.W.T. level potions using Ingwaz and Kenaz. Each and every potion ingredient interacted in different ways when assembled together; no reaction was unpredictable if you knew all the interactions!

Wasn't it obvious that if you added in a mixture of extract of thousand-year ginseng and Titanoboa venom with a ratio of three parts for one, it would make the Giant's toe precipitate faster into the Salamander's blood, so that it would combine more easily with the powdered griffin claw? Doing so would increase the potion's potency without affecting the overall toxicity, and it would also eliminate the need to wait for the potion to mature.

Daphne clicked her tongue in annoyance. She used to have Ingwaz, the divine inspiration rune, drawn in the middle of her forehead in magical paint, but ever since that Helm of Terror thing had appeared on her forehead, it had disappeared. Now, if she wanted to increase her mental faculties in class, she had to weave hand signs under the table— it was quite bothersome.

"The class is difficult, but it's manageable as long as you work hard," Pansy Parkinson was loudly saying to Umbridge, who had moved on from interrogating the Potions teacher. "Professor Snape is a demanding teacher, but he's fair. I'd say he's helped us a lot grow a lot as Wizards and Witches; just like you, Professor Umbridge!"

"She's such a teacher's pet," Daphne heard Oleandra mutter to Tracey under her breath. "Toad and toady, a match made in heaven."

Tracey giggled at Oleandra's wordplay, and Daphne smiled slightly.

"I'm glad to hear that, Miss Parkinson," said Umbridge with a sickly-sweet laugh, before jotting down a note on her clipboard. "You know, Mr. Malfoy told me how you were unjustly overlooked for the prefect position…"

"I simply don't think Oleandra Greengrass is a very good fit for the position," said Parkinson nastily. "She's violent, and she's always missing classes. I don't know what the headmaster was thinking when he picked her…"

Umbridge nodded sympathetically— the two of them really were like two peas in a pod.

"Eugh, something reeks," Tracey complained.

"I know, right? If Pansy brown-noses Umbridge any harder, she's going to end up with poo permanently stuck to her nose," Oleandra said idly, before realizing a split second later that Tracey wasn't speaking metaphorically. "No, wait— I can smell it too, now."

Daphne looked over her shoulder and saw that Harry had once again made a complete mess of his potion; acrid smoke was wafting out of his charred cauldron, which was not supposed to be the end result.

Hm, smelt vaguely of pomegranate and burnt tyres.

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Oleandra didn't particularly want to spend an hour with Professor Trelawney in the sweltering heat of the Divination classroom, but she didn't exactly have a choice. Unlike Professor Binns, Professor Trelawney actively took attendance, and she fully expected Oleandra to attend each and every one of her classes.

No matter the weather, Professor Trelawney would always have a fire roaring in the hearth and incense burning in all corners of the room, and today was no exception.

"Good day, class," came Professor Trelawney's ethereal voice, as she came into view, seemingly gliding out from a dark corner of the room with her robes trailing behind her. "Today, we shall continue interpreting—"

Her voice grew faint as she stared vacantly into space, but Oleandra wasn't especially impressed. Professor Trelawney quite liked to make use of the— dramatic pause— in order to make it look as though she was having a vision, but Oleandra knew better; she was just pretending.

However, Oleandra immediately knew something was wrong when the— dramatic pause— kept continuing on a smidge too long. She slowly turned around in place on her ottoman until she saw what had frozen Professor Trelawney mid-speech.

Oh good; she's here.

"Good day, Sibyll," said Umbridge with an off-putting smile. "I just thought I'd quickly drop by."

"I wasn't made aware of any inspections!" Professor Trelawney managed to squeak out.

"Oh, no, this isn't an inspection by any means," said Umbridge, her smile growing broader. "I just thought I'd inform you that as of this moment, I am putting you on quintuple secret probation."

Professor Trelawney made a choking sound, and she collapsed into her armchair, rendered nearly insensate.

"Professor!" Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil squealed, rushing to her side.