Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back.

Professor McGonagall’s dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike.

As Umbridge turned to continue her speech, Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout exchanged a significant glance.

“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…”

Umbridge went on and on, and she probably regarded it as a report on the work of the Ministry of Magic.

Evan soon found his attentiveness ebbing. Putting aside those meaningless words, there was only one thing she wanted to convey, and that was that the Ministry of Magic was dissatisfied with the current state of Hogwarts and was ready to interfere with Hogwarts’s operation.

He had known this a long time ago, so naturally he was not interested in listening to her.

The young wizards had never seen such a scene, and were not interested in listening to her incessant speech.

Everyone’s attention gradually waned. They were unable to keep up with Umbridge’s thoughts. The quiet that always filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking was breaking up as students put their heads together, whispering and giggling.

To Evan’s left, Kate was holding her chin with her hand, but her head kept sliding down; over at the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang was chatting animatedly with her friends. A few seats along from Cho, Luna Lovegood had got out The Quibbler again.

Meanwhile at the Hufflepuff table, Ernie Macmillan was one of the few still staring at Professor Umbridge, but it was evident that he was only pretending to listen in an attempt to live up to the new prefect’s badge gleaming on his chest.

Over the Slytherin table on the other side of the Great Hall, Astoria was talking to a girl.

It was Daphne Greengrass, Astoria’s sister. In addition, they had an older brother who was a seventh-year Slytherin student.

At the staff table, Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience.

She ignored everything below and continued to speak slowly in her goose-creepy voice.

She gave the impression that a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have plowed on with her speech.

The teachers, however, were still listening very attentively, and Dumbledore kept staring at Umbridge.

To Evan’s right, Hermione also seemed to be drinking in every word Umbridge spoke, though judging by her expression, they were not at all to her taste.

“… because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.”

Half an hour later, Umbridge finally sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping.

A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.

“Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,” he said, bowing to her. “Now … as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held…”

“Yes, it certainly was illuminating,” said Hermione in a low voice.

“You’re not telling me you enjoyed it?” Ron said quietly, turning a glazed face upon Hermione. “That was about the dullest speech I’ve ever heard, and I grew up with Percy.”

“I said illuminating, not enjoyable,” said Hermione. “It explained a lot.”

“Did it?” said Ron in surprise. “Sounded like a load of waffle to me. By the way, Harry, you said I can sign up for the House Quidditch team tryouts?”

When it came to Quidditch, he suddenly perked up.

“Of course, it would be great if you could come!” Harry said, and then came back to his senses, “Wood’s gone, we need a new goalkeeper, I don’t know yet who the captain is. I’ll ask for you tomorrow.”

The first-years looked at both of them expectantly. Compared with Umbridge’s speech, everyone was very interested in Quidditch.

As the most popular sport in the wizarding world, Quidditch was more popular than imagined.

Quidditch was the first thing many Muggle born young wizards knew when they entered the wizarding world.

Everyone seemed to want to enter the Quidditch team. If there was an open and fair selection, Ron’s chances of being selected would be very low.

It was not that he was not flying well enough, but that he was too unstable and might not be able to show his strength…

“You heard what she said, ‘progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged’, and ‘pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited’. The Ministry’s interfering at Hogwarts.” Hermione turned her head and said to Evan, ignoring both of them.

“As expected, Fudge hopes to solve us from the inside,” said Evan. “Be careful with this woman, she’s not easy.”

Umbridge represented the Ministry of Magic, and until there was a complete break, Hogwarts clearly could not resist orders from the Ministry.

Hermione wanted to say something else, but there was a great clattering and banging all around them.

Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall.

Hermione jumped up, looking flustered.

“Evan, we’re supposed to show the first years where to go!” she said hurriedly, “Ron, hurry up!”

“I almost forgot!” Ron shouted loudly, “Hey … you lot! Midgets!”

“Ron!”

“Well, they are, they’re titchy…”

“I know, but you can’t call them midgets… First years!” Hermione called commandingly along the table. “This way, please!”

“Come on, it’s time to take you back to the common room and dormitory,” said Evan, standing up with Kate.

A group of new students walked shyly up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, all of them trying hard not to lead the group.

They looked at Evan, Harry, Ron, and Hermione with twinkling eyes.

There were more first years than usual this year, and they did indeed seem very small and very young.

“There are so many people. Don’t these guys know how to make way for the first years?” Hermione said, dissatisfied.

The crowd was jammed at the doorway, because Umbridge had taken too much time, and everyone wanted to go back quickly now.

Compared with those strong senior students, the small spots around the prefects had no advantage at all.

“Don’t worry, leave it to me!” said Evan, and he took out his wand.

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