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Neville said nothing； he merely snatched up his own bag and stalked off into the dungeon。
'What in the name of Merlin；' said Ron slowly； as they followed Neville； 'was that about？'
Harry did not answer。 He knew exactly why the subject of people who were in St Mungo's because of magical damage to their brains was highly distressing to Neville； but he had sworn to Dumbledore that he would not tell anyone Neville's secret。 Even Neville did not know Harry knew。
Harry； Ron and Hermione took their usual seats at the back of the class； pulled out parchment； quills and their copies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi。 The class around them was whispering about what Neville had just done； but when Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang； everybody immediately fell silent。
'You will notice；' said Snape； in his low； sneering voice； 'that we have a guest with us today。'
He gestured towards the dim corner of the dungeon and Harry saw Professor Umbridge sitting there； clipboard on her knee。 He glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione； his eyebrows raised。 Snape and Umbridge； the two teachers he hated most。 It was hard to decide which one he wanted to triumph over the other。
'We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today。 You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson； if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend … instructions …' he waved his wand again '… on the board。 Carry on。'
Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner。 Harry was very interested in hearing her question Snape； so interested； that he was being careless with his potion again。
'Salamander blood； Harry ！' Hermione moaned； grabbing his wrist to prevent him adding the wrong ingredient for the third time； 'not pomegranate juice！'
'Right；' said Harry vaguely； putting down the bottle and continuing to watch the corner。 Umbridge had just got to her feet。 'Ha；' he said softly； as she strode between two lines of desks towards Snape； who was bending over Dean Thomas's cauldron。
'Well； the class seem fairly advanced for their level；' she said briskly to Snape's back。 Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution。 I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus。'
Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her。
'Now： how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts？' she asked； her quill poised over her clipboard。
'Fourteen years；' Snape replied。 His expression was unfathomable。 Harry； watching him closely； added a few drops to his potion； it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange。
'You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post； I believe？' Professor Umbridge asked Snape。
'Yes；' said Snape quietly。
'But you were unsuccessful？'
Snape's lip curled。
'Obviously'。
Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard。
'And you have applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school； I believe？'
'Yes；' said Snape quietly； barely moving his lips。 He looked very angry。
'Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you？' asked Umbridge。
'I suggest you ask him；' said Snape jerkily。
'Oh； I shall；' said Professor Umbridge； with a sweet smile。
'I suppose this is relevant？' Snape asked； his black eyes narrowed。
'Oh yes；' said Professor Umbridge； 'yes； the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers' … er … backgrounds。'
She turned away； walked over to Pansy Parkinson and began questioning her about the lessons。 Snape looked round at Harry and their eyes met for a second。 Harry hastily dropped his gaze to his potion； which was now congealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burned rubber。
'No marks again； then； Potter；' said Snape maliciously； emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand。 'You will write me an essay on the correct position of this potion； indicating how and why you went wrong； to be handed in next lesson； do you understand？'
'Yes；' said Harry furiously。 Snape had already given them homework and he had Quidditch practice this evening； this would mean another couple of sleepless nights。 It did not seem possible that he had awoken that morning feeling very happy。 All he felt now was a fervent desire for this day to end。
'Maybe I'll skive off Divination；' he said glumly； as they stood in the courtyard after lunch； the wind whipping at the hems of robes and brims of hats。 I'll pretend to be ill and do Snape's essay instead； then I won't have to stay up half the night。'
'You can't skive off Divination；' said Hermione severely。
'Hark who's talking； you walked out of Divination； you hate Trelawney！' said Ron indignantly。
'I don't hate her；' said Hermione loftily。 'I just think she's an absolutely appalling teacher and a real old fraud。 But Harry's already missed History of Magic and I don't think he ought to miss anything else today！'
There was too much truth in this to ignore； so half an hour later Harry took his seat in the hot； overperfumed atmosphere of the Divination classroom； feeling angry at everybody。 Professor Trelawney was yet again handing out copies of The Dream Oracle。 Harry thought he'd surely be much better employed doing Snape's punishment essay than sitting here trying to find meaning in a lot of made…up dreams。
It seemed； however； that he was not the only person in Divination who was in a temper。 Professor Trelawney slammed a copy of the Oracle down on the table between Harry and Ron and swept away； her lips pursed； she threw the next copy of the Oracle at Seamus and Dean； narrowly avoiding Seamus's head； and thrust the final one into Neville's chest with such force that he slipped off his pouffe。
'Well； carry on！' said Professor Trelawney loudly； her voice high…pitched and somewhat hysterical； 'you know what to do！ Or am I such a sub…standard teacher that you have never learned how to open a book？'
The class stared perplexedly at her； then at each other。 Harry； however； thought he knew what was the matter。 As Professor Trelawney flounced back to the high…backed teacher's chair； her magnified eyes full of angry tears； he leaned his head closer to Ron's and muttered； 'I think she's got the results of her inspection back。'
'Professor？' said Parvati Patil in a hushed voice （she and Lavender had always rather admired Professor Trelawney）。 'Professor； is there anything … er … wrong？'
'Wrong！' cried Professor Trelawney in a voice throbbing with emotion。 'Certainly not！ I have been insulted； certainly： insinuations have been made against me： unfounded accusations levelled： but no； there is nothing wrong； certainly not！'
She took a great shuddering breath and looked away from Parvati； angry tears spilling from under her glasses。
'I say nothing；' she choked； 'of sixteen years of devoted service： it has passed； apparently； unnoticed： but I shall not be insulted； no； I shall not！'
'But； Professor； who's insulting you？' asked Parvati timidly。
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