As Ron moved away, Angelina came striding up to Harry.
“Sorry I was a bit short with you earlier, Potter,” she said abruptly. “It’s stressful this managing lark, you know, I’m starting to think I was a bit hard on Wood sometimes.” She was watching Ron over the rim of her goblet with a slight frown on her face.
“Look, I know he’s your best mate, but he’s not fabulous,” she said bluntly. “I think with a bit of training he’ll be all right, though. He comes from a family of good Quidditch players. I’m banking on him turning out to have a bit more talent than he showed today, to be honest. Vicky Frobisher and Geoffrey Hooper both flew better this evening, but Hooper’s a real whiner, he’s always moaning about something or other, and Vicky’s involved in all sorts of societies. She admitted herself that if training clashed with her Charms Club she’d put Charms first. Anyway, we’re having a practice session at two o’clock tomorrow, so just make sure you’re there this time. And do me a favour and help Ron as much as you can, OK?”
He nodded, and Angelina strolled back to Alicia Spinnet. Harry moved over to sit next to Hermione, who awoke with a jerk as he put down his bag.
“Oh, Harry, it’s you… good about Ron, isn’t it?” she said blearily. “I’m just so—so—so tired,” she yawned. “I was up until one o’clock making more hats. They’re disappearing like mad!”
And sure enough, now that he looked, Harry saw that there were woolly hats concealed all around the room where unwary elves might accidentally pick them up.
“Great,” said Harry distractedly; if he did not tell somebody soon, he would burst. “Listen, Hermione, I was just up in Umbridge’s office and she touched my arm—”
Hermione listened closely. When Harry had finished, she said slowly “You’re worried You-Know-Who’s controlling her like he controlled Quirrell?”
“Well,” said Harry, dropping his voice, “it’s a possibility, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” said Hermione, though she sounded unconvinced. “But I don’t think he can be possessing her the way he possessed Quirrell, I mean, he’s properly alive again now, isn’t he, he’s got his own body, he wouldn’t need to share someone else’s. He could have her under the Imperius Curse, I suppose…”
Harry watched Fred, George and Lee Jordan juggling empty Butterbeer bottles for a moment. Then Hermione said, “But last year your scar hurt when nobody was touching you, and didn’t Dumbledore say it had to do with what You-Know-Who was feeling at the time? I mean, maybe this hasn’t got anything to do with Umbridge at all, maybe it’s just coincidence it happened while you were with her?”
“She’s evil,” said Harry flatly. “Twisted.”
“She’s horrible, yes, but… Harry, I think you ought to tell Dumbledore your scar hurt.”