Chapter 1237: A Collection of All Unpleasant Words
Trelawney's plight certainly deserves sympathy, but it's just the beginning.
Charms classroom
As usual, Flitwick stood on a stack of thick books, enthusiastically explaining the subtle wrist movements of the Happiness Charm to the students below the podium.
Suddenly, the classroom door was gently pushed open, and Umbridge entered with several Ministry of Magic education commissioners who were very rude. They sat in the last row of the classroom as if no one else was there.
“Please continue, Professor Flitwick. Please don’t let our presence disrupt this…interesting lesson.”
Flitwick nervously pushed up his glasses.
He was unaware of what had happened to McGonagall and Trelawney, but he knew that Umbridge and the others were definitely not there simply to listen in.
"Please observe my hand movements carefully, and then tell me what's different."
After Flitwick finished his demonstration, Qiu, who was sitting below the stage, immediately raised her little hand.
"Professor, I think your wrist movements are particularly relaxed."
He nodded approvingly. "Indeed, the casting of the spell will vary slightly depending on your current state; we need to choose a posture that makes us as comfortable as possible—"
"Please excuse me for interrupting," Umbridge's voice pierced the joy of the class for the second time.
She stood up on her own, "Well, at least I can see clearly now."
Flitwick was completely baffled. "Professor Umbridge, do you have a question?"
Umbridge glanced at the students in front of her. "I wouldn't call it a question, but I've noticed that your... teaching posture seems to have some fundamental problems."
She slowly walked to the front of the podium, her eyes not on Frivi, but on the stack of thick books he was standing on.
"Considering the height difference between you and the students... well... it's difficult for students in the back rows to see your demonstration clearly, isn't it? This seems like a kind of... well... unfair distribution of teaching resources."
The classroom was deathly silent.
Professor Flitwick is known for his good temper and never offends anyone, while Umbridge's personal attacks right off the bat are incredibly ill-mannered.
“I…” Flitwick tried to remain calm, “I assure you, Professor Umbridge, I’ve stood on this platform for decades, and not a single student has ever complained of not being able to see—”
“Hmm.” Umbridge interrupted him with an affected, fake laugh. “Children are always too lenient, but as educators, we must actively pursue absolute precision and fairness.”
She turned to face the students, "Does anyone think that they were unable to perfectly master the spell because their vision was obstructed?"
No one raised their hand, and Qiu and the eaglets looked at her with eyes that could practically spit fire.
Umbridge sighed in disappointment, seemingly unaware that those looks were directed at her.
Or perhaps she knew, but pretended not to. "Look, they don't even realize they're being mistreated, which precisely proves the necessity of reform."
Flitwick blushed. "Professor Umbridge, I could use my decades of teaching experience—"
“Qualifications prove nothing,” Umbridge interrupted him again, her voice growing sweeter. “In my opinion, Hogwarts’ Charms class lacks rigorous theoretical oversight, suffers from serious safety hazards, and is also hampered by the teachers’ own… limited qualifications… leading to inconsistent teaching quality.”
She looked around the classroom, her gaze sweeping over the terrified or angry faces of each student.
"Parents have the right to know what kind of... crude and unregulated education they are sending their children here to receive."
Hearing such harsh words, Frivi turned pale. "No, we—"
Umbridge gave him no chance to speak, saying, “I believe that once parents learn of these disturbing details, they will be more than happy to support the Ministry of Magic in making the necessary revisions to the Hogwarts curriculum.”
After saying that, she left the classroom with the special education commissioners from the Ministry of Magic, completely satisfied.
Flitwick stood frozen in place, the students enveloped in anger and a sense of powerlessness.
Umbridge's satisfied, fake smile clearly conveyed one message: she wasn't there to listen in; she was there to gather "evidence."
Before we could even grieve for Flitwick's tragic fate, the next professor to suffer mental torment was the cheerful and optimistic Sprout.
Outside the castle, in the third greenhouse.
Cedric swears to God that Umbridge is the worst person he has ever met.
Voldemort is nothing; he's always either eating melons or on his way to eat melons. Umbridge, on the other hand, is the embodiment of all the unpleasant words that humanity has created throughout history.
Faced with such a born villain, no one's fist wouldn't be hard enough to withstand it.
"I have to raise a question about basic hygiene standards, allowing students, especially young girls, to have direct contact with... dirty, potentially germ-laden soil, and to handle it with their bare hands—"
Umbridge glanced at Sprout's gloved hands. "Oh, even with gloves on, this level of contact is not recommended. It's completely contrary to the spirit of the Ministry of Magic's draft 'Health and Safety Guidelines for the Working Environment of Young Wizards'."
This draft left Sprout stunned.
She held up her strong, calloused, and earthy hands. "Dolores, this is a herbalism class. Soil is the foundation of life. How can we understand plants without touching them ourselves?"
Umbridge gave a smile of extreme tolerance, as if she were comforting a fool. "Of course, of course, that's always the traditional view, but modern magic education emphasizes cleanliness, orderliness, and risk control."
She scrutinized Sprout with a critical eye. "For example, Professor, have you considered that your... well... your appearance, as if you were just dug out of the ground, might set a less-than-elegant, even somewhat unkempt, example for your students?"
Her direct attack on Sprout's appearance sent a chill down the spines of the badger cubs.
The Ministry of Magic's special education commissioners accompanied her as she looked around the greenhouse. She gazed at the vibrant plants as if they were a pile of garbage.
Sprout was extremely aggrieved, but Umbridge wasn't done yet.
"I believe that when parents learn that their beloved children are being used as cheap gardening laborers at school and could be injured or soiled by a plant at any time, they will be very supportive of the Ministry of Magic's thorough and standardized reform of the course."
Umbridge gently raised her short hand. "For example, it would be much safer and more civilized to teach using clear charts and wax models."
Amidst the absurdity and anger of Sprout and the students, she hurried away from the greenhouse with a few school board members as if fleeing a plague.
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