Chapter 1238 The Parents Who Were Deceived

In just three days, Umbridge and her "followers" had wreaked havoc on all the professors at Hogwarts.

Even Snape was criticized for the terrible air quality in the Potions classroom and for the serious safety hazard posed by his greasy hair.

“Professor Snape, your classroom is well-ordered, that's commendable, however…”

Umbridge deliberately dragged out her words, "As a Potions Master, you should know that there can be absolutely no mistakes in the potion-making process. What if you accidentally drop dandruff into the students' cauldrons while you're shaking your head..."

We had to give Lord Lucius face, so Umbridge didn't continue speaking.

Simo, known as the "demolition genius," immediately straightened his chest.

It wasn't that he lacked talent in potions, but rather that he was incredibly unlucky, always encountering greasy dandruff.

Seeing Snape's dark face, Umbridge walked up to Neville's potion, which was bubbling eerily, covered her nose tightly with a handkerchief, and made a pretentious gagging sound.

"Good heavens! This...this can hardly be called a potion anymore, Mr. Longbottom. Your procedure has clearly deviated from Professor Snape's overly refined instructions."

Instead of directly blaming the professor for teaching failures as she would in other classes, she cleverly shifted the blame to Neville's "comprehension ability" and "operational errors."

"This fully demonstrates how necessary unified and detailed written procedures are, and that 'standardized teaching' is urgently needed."

In Umbridge's pink world, even harshness is stratified; she treats the powerful with sugar-coated reminders, but otherwise it's blatant belittling.

But this "good intention" still hurt Snape.

It's not his fault that his hair is greasy; blame the dampness of the Hogwarts dungeons.

On the fourth day,

Umbridge extended her clutches to the employees.

From Filch to Mrs. Pince, and then to Mrs. Pomfrey at the university hospital, they all suffered from varying degrees of mental anguish.

The worst case was Filch, who was vigorously scrubbing a small stain on the wall with a bucket of water.

As she was wiping, Mrs. Lorris, who was squatting to the side, suddenly became alert.

Filch turned around and found Umbridge standing quietly behind him.

"Filch, don't you think your cleaning efficiency is far too low?"

She gently covered her nose with her handkerchief, as if the dirty water in the bucket had polluted the air around her. "In the modern administrative system of the Ministry of Magic, cleaning work has long been carried out using efficient house-elves and standardized cleaning charms. Your medieval method is not only inefficient but also unsightly."

Filch quickly sat up, forcing a mixture of fear and ingratiation on his face. "Professor Umbridge, I—"

"See?" He was ruthlessly interrupted the moment he opened his mouth.

Umbridge tapped the gleaming marble floor with his toe. "Look at this floor. You can still see traces of dust. That means your work isn't up to par."

Filch opened his mouth again. "Professor Umbridge, I patrol the enormous castle every day—"

“That’s the problem.” Umbridge scrutinized him. “I’ve looked through your work log and found that you’re spending too much time ‘inspecting suspicious corners’ and ‘filling out penalty forms.’ Your core responsibility is the daily cleaning of the castle.”

Her gaze fell on Mrs. Lorris, who was looking wary. "Regarding this cat, do the staff follow the relevant regulations regarding pet ownership? Has it undergone the necessary magical quarantine on time? I suspect it may be carrying fleas or other germs from the corners, which could pose a serious threat to the students' health."

Mrs. Lorris sensed the malice and hissed.

Umbridge flashed her signature saccharine smile, which startled Filch so much that he lovingly pulled her into his arms.

“Their working methods are outdated, their responsibilities are unclear, and they devote too much energy to non-essential matters. I will report these problems to the Ministry of Magic truthfully.”

After saying that, she turned away, leaving behind a cold, distant silhouette.

Filch stood there holding Mrs. Lorris, his face filled with anger and helplessness at being humiliated and rejected.

……

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For three consecutive days, the Daily Prophet reported on the "real" teaching quality at Hogwarts.

Today, this newspaper, which is completely controlled by the Ministry of Magic, gave Umbridge a private interview.

"Hogwarts in crisis? Special Education Commissioner exposes shocking teaching negligence and safety hazards!"

—An exclusive interview with Professor Dolores Umbridge, revealing the "real" side of the castle.

The article uses highly inflammatory language, concluding with a poignant appeal from Umbridge:

"We must carry out a thorough reform of Hogwarts in accordance with the standards of the Ministry of Magic for the safety and future of our children."

Parents who were unaware of the facts, especially those who were easily swayed by authority, sent in a barrage of angry letters or expressed their concerns in the Daily Prophet's letter-to-letter section.

A parent named Mrs. Hopkins turned pale when she read the words "poisonous tentacles may harm students" and "the hygiene situation is worrying," and immediately sent her son an anxious letter.

"Honey, are you alright? Please don't go to that horrible Herbs class again! Mommy will write to the Ministry of Magic right now to support Professor Umbridge!"

Her son, a student of Hufflepuff, witnessed how Umbridge belittled Sprout and subjected her to rude physical attacks.

Unfortunately, her son's reply not only failed to relieve Mrs. Hopkins' anxiety, but instead plunged her into even greater fear and unease.

"Honey, your father and I trust Dumbledore completely, but it's all written in black and white in the newspapers. You're too young to know what's right and what's wrong. Tell me the truth, is Herbology class really as bad as Professor Umbridge said?"

Mrs. Hopkins wasn't the only parent who was misled. Dumbledore's reputation plummeted overnight, and Fudge even "frankly" in private that Dumbledore was too old to be the headmaster of Hogwarts.

Clear-headed parents, of course, would not easily believe such deliberately derogatory remarks; they sensed a conspiracy in them.

Some students, especially younger students and some Slytherin students, began to question the professors, and all the staff of the school felt humiliated and hurt.

Dumbledore remained silent and never publicly refuted the claims, leading his staunch supporters and parents to speculate that he was preparing a major event.

However, some students had no patience to wait any longer. On a dark and stormy night, Umbridge's shrill screams once again echoed throughout the castle.

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