"Zero points." Professor Snape said emotionlessly, "You two, go back and write me a detailed paper on the configuration methods of this enhancement potion. I expect them to be on my podium next class, understood?"
"Yes, Professor." Crabbe and Gall answered obediently.
"And you." Professor Snape turned to Draco, "Why use the Disappearing Spell in class?"
"Because Crabbe added pomegranate juice to the cauldron, Professor." Draco saw Crabbe and Gall sell him out, so he unhesitatingly sold them out too, "I saw that potion fizzing and about to splatter everywhere, so I used the Disappearing Spell in time to make it vanish, lest it harm innocent classmates."
Snape's eerie expression finally showed a hint of a smile, though he was struggling to move his lips.
"Slytherin loses ten points because of Crabbe and Gall." He said promptly, "Mr. Malfoy, because of your timely intervention, Slytherin gains fifteen points."
Slytherin students congratulated each other, clapping hands in celebration.
This plus and minus was equivalent to gaining five points, and five points are still points!
Draco held his head high, with an air befitting a Class Prefect.
After class, Umbridge hurriedly left the Magic Potion classroom, clutching her clipboard.
Professor Snape looked sinisterly at her back, seemingly intending to use a Divine Shadowless Blade on Umbridge's face.
Leaving the Magic Potion classroom, Ron whispered, "If he really uses a spell on Umbridge's face, I'd announce at light speed that Snape is my favorite professor."
"Even if he makes you write a twenty-foot paper?" Hermione coldly taunted.
"I'd be willing even if it's two hundred feet!" Ron's eyes burned with excitement.
Hermione pursed her lips and shook her head.
"Hey, Harry." Ron said worriedly, "I saw Umbridge give me a nasty look today, do you think she might have found out..."
"Don't worry, Ron." Hermione said from the side, "How could she possibly discover you? Of course, let's discuss this back in the common room, since there are too many eyes here."
"I think even the common room isn't safe." Ron pouted, "I suspect that Cormac—that annoying guy competing with me for Gryffindor Goalkeeper—he's definitely the snitch who tattled to Umbridge!"
After dining in the hall, the three temporarily returned to the common room for a chat.
There weren't many people in the common room; Harry, Ron, and Hermione found a corner to sit in.
"The intel you gathered was useful; at least we've communicated this with Newt." Harry said to Ron, "But we haven't been able to contact Professor Dumbledore; no one knows what he's doing."
Hermione furrowed her brows and asked, "At such a critical moment, you're telling me Professor Dumbledore is missing?"
"That's the truth." Harry shrugged and said, "Professor Dumbledore seems to have other things to deal with; I guess he'll return to school once he's finished."
"What about Umbridge?" Ron asked worriedly, "I keep feeling Umbridge knows something; she might be plotting against me..."
"Don't overthink it." Harry laughed, patting Ron's shoulder, "You're just feeling guilty; in reality, how could Umbridge know it was you who attacked her that night? I suggest you let go of your worries; there's no need to be so anxious, right?"
"You're right." Ron forced a smile and said.
"It's Divination Class soon." Harry said, "Cheer up, at least we won't be disturbed by Umbridge in this class, so just focus, okay, buddy?"
"I feel like skipping class, buddy." Ron rubbed his head, "We don't learn anything in Divination Class anyway; going is just a waste of time, wouldn't you agree?"
"You can't skip Divination Class." Hermione said sternly.
"Listen to who's talking; you walked out of Divination class and kicked over the crystal ball! You hate Trelawney!" Ron protested.
"I don't hate her," Hermione said arrogantly, "I just think she's a dreadful teacher, a true old fraud! But you, Ronald Weasley, you're a Gryffindor Class Prefect! Do you want to set a bad example for younger students? So that when others skip class, they'll say, oh my God, Weasley Prefect skipped class too, so why can't I?"
"I almost regret being this Prefect now." Ron sighed woefully, pulling the big-headed boy badge off his chest and slamming it on the table, "I decided to let someone else have it, what do you think?"
"I'm! Not! Allowing! You! To! Do! That!" Hermione growled, "Ron!"
"Alright, alright." Ron raised his hands in the French salute, "You're the Prefect, you're right, so... Will you come with us to Divination Class later?"
"You know I didn't choose it." Hermione coldly laughed.
Ron raised his eyebrows and sighed helplessly.
Half an hour later, they sat in the stuffy, perfume-scented Divination classroom.
"A bit nose-stinging." Ron whispered to Harry, then looked up at Professor Trelawney, frowning and saying, "Buddy, did you notice Professor Trelawney seems a bit off?"
Harry looked up at Trelawney and found she indeed appeared disinterested.
She seemed like a walking corpse, mechanically handing out the "Dream Interpretation Guide" textbooks to students.
"I'd rather write that paper Snape assigned us." Ron whispered to Harry, "Than interpret some nonsense dreams here—we all know dreams are inventions, who remembers specifically what they dreamt?"
Then, he felt a gust of wind.
Professor Trelawney threw a "Dream Interpretation Guide" right at his face.
Fortunately, as a Quidditch Goalkeeper, Ron had good reflexes and caught the book, but he realized he might not be the only one receiving such treatment; initially thinking it was punishment for chatting, it seemed now—she was also throwing a book at Seamus's face.
Seamus, lacking the reflexes and agility of a Quidditch Goalkeeper, got hit squarely by the book.
"Professor, what's wrong?" Seamus asked confusedly, picking up the "Dream Interpretation Guide."
Professor Trelawney showed no desire to respond, her voice a bit hysterical: "Alright, get started! You know what to do! Am I teaching so poorly you can't even open your textbooks?"
"What's up with her?" Seamus asked uncertainly as he leaned closer.
"Probably menopause." Justin Finchley from Hufflepuff also leaned over and whispered about the professor, "You know, Muggles have a saying, they call the inexplicable hysterical age of middle-aged women 'menopause,' just like puberty."
"I'm afraid it's not." Ron said with a serious look, having seen Umbridge's investigation report; it should be said—that report was quite insulting.
"What do you mean?" Seamus and Justin asked together.
"I guess it's Umbridge's investigation report." Ron said softly, "She must have insulted Professor Trelawney thoroughly; otherwise, Professor Trelawney wouldn't be so upset."
"Gosh, Umbridge is so mean!" Justin frowned and cursed.