Umbridge looked quickly at Fudge, then back at Marietta.

Umbridge looked quickly at Fudge, then back at Marietta.

‘I don't think you understood the question, did you, dear? I'm asking whether you've been going to these meetings for the past six months? You have, haven't you?’

Again, Marietta shook her head.

‘What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?’ said Umbridge in a testy voice.

‘I would have thought her meaning was quite clear,’ said Professor McGonagall harshly, ‘there have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is that correct, Miss Edgecombe?’

Marietta nodded.

‘But there was a meeting tonight!’ said Umbridge furiously. ‘There was a meeting, Miss Edgecombe, you told me about it, in the Room of Requirement! And Potter was the leader, was he not, Potter organised it, Potter—why

are you shaking your head, girl?’

‘Well, usually when a person shakes their head,’ said McGonagall coldly, ‘they mean “no". So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign-language as yet unknown to humans—’

Professor Umbridge seized Marietta, pulled her round to face her and began shaking her very hard. A split second later Dumbledore was on his feet, his wand raised; Kingsley started forwards and Umbridge leapt back from

Marietta, waving her hands in the air as though they had been burned.

‘I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores,’ said Dumbledore and, for the first time, he looked angry.

‘You want to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge,’ said Kingsley, in his deep, slow voice. ‘You don't want to get yourself into trouble, now.’

‘No,’ said Umbridge breathlessly, glancing up at the towering figure of Kingsley. ‘I mean, yes—you're right, Shacklebolt—I—I forgot myself.’

Marietta was standing exactly where Umbridge had released her. She seemed neither perturbed by Umbridge's sudden attack, nor relieved by her release; she was still clutching her robe up to her oddly blank eyes and

staring straight ahead of her.

A sudden suspicion, connected to Kingsley's whisper and the thing he had felt shoot past him, sprang into Harry's mind.

‘Dolores,’ said Fudge, with the air of trying to settle something once and for all, ‘the meeting tonight—the one we know definitely happened—’

‘Yes,’ said Umbridge, pulling herself together, ‘yes ... well, Miss Edgecombe tipped me off and I proceeded at once to the seventh floor, accompanied by certain trustworthy students, so as to catch those in the meeting red-

handed. It appears that they were forewarned of my arrival, however, because when we reached the seventh floor they were running in every direction. It does not matter, however. I have all their names here, Miss Parkinson

ran into the Room of Requirement for me to see if they had left anything behind. We needed evidence and the room provided.’

And to Harry's horror, she withdrew from her pocket the list of names that had been pinned upon the Room of Requirement's wall and handed it to Fudge.

‘The moment I saw Potter's name on the list, I knew what we were dealing with,’ she said softly.

‘Excellent,’ said Fudge, a smile spreading across his face, ‘excellent, Dolores. And ... by thunder ...’

He looked up at Dumbledore, who was still standing beside Marietta, his wand held loosely in his hand.

‘See what they've named themselves?’ said Fudge quietly. ‘Dumbledore's Army.’

Dumbledore reached out and took the piece of parchment from Fudge. He gazed at the heading scribbled by Hermione months before and for a moment seemed unable to speak. Then he looked up, smiling.

‘Well, the game is up,’ he said simply. ‘Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius —or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?’

Harry saw McGonagall and Kingsley look at each other. There was fear in both faces. He did not understand what was going on, and nor, apparently, did Fudge.

‘Statement?’ said Fudge slowly. ‘What—I don't—?’

‘Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius,’ said Dumbledore, still smiling as he waved the list of names before Fudge's face. ‘Not Potter's Army. Dumbledore's Army.’

‘But—but—’

Understanding blazed suddenly in Fudge's face. He took a horrified step backwards, yelped, and jumped out of the fire again.

‘You?’ he whispered, stamping again on his smouldering cloak.

‘That's right,’ said Dumbledore pleasantly.

‘You organised this?’

‘I did,’ said Dumbledore.

‘You recruited these students for—for your army?’

‘Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting,’ said Dumbledore, nodding. ‘Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe, of course.’

Marietta nodded. Fudge looked from her to Dumbledore, his chest swelling.

‘Then you have been plotting against me!’ he yelled.

‘That's right,’ said Dumbledore cheerfully.

‘NO!’ shouted Harry.

Kingsley flashed a look of warning at him, McGonagall widened her eyes threateningly, but it had suddenly dawned on Harry what Dumbledore was about to do, and he could not let it happen.

‘No—Professor Dumbledore—!’