Jon spent quite a long time persuading Headmaster Phineas Black to return to the portrait at Grimmauld Place and report the news to Albus Dumbledore.
From Phineas's expression, he clearly wasn't pleased.
"Can't you let these old bones rest a little?" he muttered as he inched across the portrait frame at a snail's pace. "Honestly, I'm worn out enough as it is…"
Immediately, protests erupted from the surrounding portraits.
"Disobedience, you fool!" a portly wizard with a red nose bellowed, waving his fist. "You're shirking your duty!"
It was Headmaster Dexter Fortescue, the former Quidditch coach who once led England to a World Cup victory. He glared fiercely at Phineas Black.
"Shame on you, Phineas!" shouted a frail old wizard. "When Dilys comes back, I'll tell her—"
That voice belonged to Armando Dippet, Dumbledore's predecessor.
"I was only joking… I'm going now… immediately…" Phineas Black blurted out, his expression changing at once before he slipped away from the portrait.
Jon decided he should leave as well. After saying goodbye to the headmasters' portraits and to Fawkes, he pushed open the office door and stepped onto the moving staircase again.
Taking another small sip of the Polyjuice Potion containing Ron Weasley's hair, Jon walked past the sleeping gargoyle.
The black cat in the nearby portrait saw Ron Weasley emerge from the office… and hurried away.
...
Before Herbology class the next morning, Jon rushed to Dolores Umbridge's office.
There, he relayed Marietta Edgecombe's confession and Blaise Zabini's findings from the Galleon—every detail the pink toad had been kept completely unaware of.
"Dumbledore's Army?" Umbridge's voice quivered.
"I believe so. That's what Miss Edgecombe said," Jon replied honestly.
"That is simply wonderful!" Umbridge's expression contained not only anger, but unmistakable excitement.
"According to Miss Edgecombe's statement… Potter and Granger did all of this to form an army against the Ministry!" Jon explained with a straight face. "They've been spreading lies about the Dark Lord's return, and every week they spend several nights in that odd classroom on the eighth floor, practicing all sorts of vicious Hexes…"
"That old fox Dumbledore!" Umbridge's lips curled into a thrilled grin. "I've finally cornered that old fox!"
Caught up in her excitement, Umbridge didn't seem to notice the similarity between "Dumbledore's Army" and her own "Supporters of Dolores Umbridge."
Now she was clumsily pulling out a stack of parchment and a quill, muttering to herself, "Whom should I write to first… The Daily Prophet, of course… And the Minister's Office—Cornelius must receive a letter himself…"
"Professor Umbridge," Jon whispered, "I think it would be better to wait until we've actually caught Potter and the others before dealing with that…"
"Excellent!" Dolores Umbridge straightened up at once. "You're absolutely right, Patrick!"
Her excitement gradually settled. She bit the end of her quill. "I'll notify Filch shortly. Patrick, you contact your friends… We gather here at eight o'clock tonight. Be discreet—don't let anyone notice anything strange… Once their meeting begins, we'll catch them all in one strike!"
"I think it'll work flawlessly, Professor Umbridge," Jon said smoothly.
"At that moment, I'll contact Cornelius and have him bring several Aurors… With witnesses and evidence gathered, let's see how Dumbledore tries to explain this away!" Umbridge murmured dreamily. "Throw the old fox into Azkaban to keep the Dementors company."
"Then I'll head back and inform Draco and Blaise?" Jon asked quietly.
"Of course!" Umbridge gave him a meaningful look. "Patrick, you're a good student."
"…I'll write to Cornelius and tell him how much assistance you've provided me here at Hogwarts… So outstanding—why, even as a foreign wizard, the Ministry ought to open its doors to talent like yours," she said solemnly.
"It would be my honor, Professor Umbridge." Jon looked properly flattered.
...
At eight o'clock Monday evening, the members of Dumbledore's Army assembled in the Room of Requirement as usual.
"Good evening, Harry!"
"Your interview in The Quibbler was amazing!"
Every student who entered greeted Harry cheerfully.
"What spell are we practicing today?"
The question came from Cho Chang, a sixth-year Ravenclaw. Hearing her voice made Harry felt his heartbeat stumble.
"Probably the Patronus Charm," he said as casually as he could manage.
"Will Professor Scamander be coming today?" someone else asked.
"Probably not…" Hermione Granger shook her head. "So Harry will be teaching us tonight."
She checked the roster in her hand as the other students filed into the room. Once everyone else had gone inside, she suddenly lowered her voice.
"Someone's missing. One person isn't here!"
"Probably busy with something else," Ron said carelessly.
"If he were busy, he would have let us know!" Hermione frowned and continued scanning the list.
After several minutes of searching, she found the name—
"Marietta Edgecombe." Hermione hurried into the crowd. "Does anyone know why she didn't come?"
"Marietta is my friend," Cho answered. "I'm the one who brought her in."
Hermione frowned slightly. "Has she been acting strange lately?"
"To be honest, she has seemed a bit off these past few days…" Cho murmured.
"I saw her yesterday!" Luna Lovegood suddenly raised her hand, smiling brightly. "In Hogsmeade! I saw her with Selwyn from Slytherin. They seemed to be talking about something!"
Hermione's expression shifted instantly. She signaled to Harry and called out, "The Marauder's Map, Harry!"
Harry quickly pulled the blank parchment from his pocket.
"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," he whispered, tapping it with his wand.
The blank parchment slowly transformed into a map, covered in moving footprints.
Harry scanned the map around the Room of Requirement… but of course he didn't see himself, Hermione, or any other D.A. members—the Room of Requirement never appeared on the Marauder's Map.
But several other footprints caught his attention.
Familiar names: "Draco Malfoy," "Vincent Crabbe," and "Christopher Patrick"...
But what startled him even more were the names "Dolores Umbridge" and "Argus Filch."
They were all heading straight toward the Room of Requirement.
"Everyone, run!" Harry shouted in panic. "Umbridge and Filch are coming!"
...
The students rushed toward the exit at once, bottlenecking at the door before someone finally burst through.
Harry heard their frantic footsteps pounding down the corridor. He hoped they had the sense not to run back to their dormitories—too risky.
The library and owlery were much closer. If they managed to hide there, they might still escape…
After considerable struggling, Harry finally pushed his way out of the Room of Requirement. The D.A. members were scattering desperately in every direction.
From somewhere to the left, Umbridge's shrill laughter rang out, accompanied by Filch's barking shouts… They seemed to have caught someone.
Harry sprinted to the right; a boys' bathroom lay ahead. If he could get there, he could pretend he'd been inside the whole time…
"Impedimenta!" a voice suddenly shouted from the far side of the bathroom.
Harry felt himself crash to the floor.
Then he heard Christopher Patrick's voice beside him:
"Professor Umbridge, I've got Potter!"