These words didn't really hurt the pride of the fifth‑years; after all, speaking in general, fifth‑years really shouldn't be stronger than sixth‑years.
The problem was, this wasn't one of those general situations.
Hearing Harry's words, the students from the other years around them all fell into thought.
"So then," Harry said again, "let's get back to the Iron Armor Spell. Next pair, get ready: Lavender Brown versus… Dean Thomas!"
…
The progress check on the Iron Armor Spell ended amid laughter and cheers; even Slytherin's Crabbe and Gall could just barely hold up a shield to block the Spells they were firing at each other.
Of course, it was hard not to think that this was the Slytherin common room's brilliant matchmaking system at work—pairing this duo of Giant brothers together really was a case of a perfect match, evenly pitting idiot against idiot.
Because… well, this pair of Giant brothers… their Spellwork was about the same, which meant their broken, patchy shields could manage to block each other's attacks.
Talk about a built‑in error‑tolerance system.
"That's it for today's check," Harry said in a steady voice as he swept his gaze over the class. "I'm very satisfied with everyone's progress, but this is only a beginning. I hope you'll keep it up and do even better in your future Defense Against the Dark Arts studies."
"Also," Harry continued, "because of your excellent performance, I've decided to hand out prizes to everyone who did well and successfully cast the Iron Armor Spell)—"
"Prizes?" Everyone began muttering to each other; nobody had heard that there would be prizes for taking part in this Defense Against the Dark Arts Iron Armor Spell test.
What kind of prize?
They had to admit, they were a bit excited.
"This time's prize," Harry said, clearing his throat, "is a mobile telephone made by Mr. Leme—yes, that Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the legendary Alchemist. Some of you might already know what this thing is, but what I'm telling you is that I've prepared a brand‑new Hogwarts 1995‑model mobile telephone from Nicolas Flamel for each and every one of you!"
At Harry's words, everyone fell silent at first, then a deafening cheer exploded.
Merlin's pants, just taking part in a test like this and there are prizes?
And it's that wildly popular mobile telephone everyone's been talking about?
They couldn't be clearer on what mobile telephones were: even the oldest Hogwarts 1992‑model mobile telephone was selling for 200 Galleons on the market!
And the newest Hogwarts 1995 model had long since shot up to 2,000 Galleons!
Two thousand Galleons—that was a staggering fortune.
And now Harry was just taking them out and handing one to everyone for free?
The students present were breathing hard with excitement.
This Defense Against the Dark Arts is great; we've got to learn it, absolutely!
I love studying Defense Against the Dark Arts!
Harry pulled a handful of Crystal Balls out of his wallet; after a few rounds of improvements, their size was nicely controlled—he could hold one Crystal Ball in a single hand now.
"No need to rush, there's one for everyone," Harry said. "Line up, and come up one by one to collect yours—of course, students from other years don't need to worry either. As long as you take part in the future, there'll be similar activities again."
"Thank you, Harry," everyone said in unison.
Each person who came up to receive a brand‑new 1995‑model mobile was brimming with excitement. They thanked Harry over and over, shaking his hand enthusiastically.
After handing out the last phone, Harry spoke again.
"Of course," he said, "if students from other years want to sit in on the fifth‑year Defense Against the Dark Arts Class, you can submit an application to your Class Prefect and then audit the fifth‑year Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. If you feel the pace is too fast, I'll work out another arrangement—keep an eye on your House notice board for details."
With that, Harry announced the end of the event.
The students who had phones were all fiddling with them, while the ones who hadn't got one yet stood by watching eagerly, practically dying of jealousy.
Harry had a pretty pleasant weekend. On Monday morning, after class, he went over to Hagrid's hut to sit for a while, then left together with Annie.
Back in the Great Hall, Harry grabbed a quick meal and then planned to head back to the dormitory to give Vivi a call and ask if she was free in the next couple of days.
Honestly, even though they'd only been apart for a couple of days, he still missed her a lot.
"Oh," the Sphinx said from the doorway of the common room, looming over Harry, "you still have to solve a riddle to get into the common room."
"Go on, then," Harry said.
A sly light flickered in the Sphinx's eyes.
"A little monkey climbs up a tree to pick corn. Suppose he can pick twenty in ten minutes; how many can he pick in twenty minutes?"
"None," Harry said with a wave of his hand. "Because corn doesn't grow on trees—"
"All right," the Sphinx said, stepping aside, sounding a bit disappointed. "I thought this new kind of riddle might finally stump you."
"Sorry to disappoint," Harry said cheerfully.
When he stepped into the common room, he saw a crowd gathered around the notice board.
Curious, Harry went over to see what they were looking at.
The Gryffindor notice board was covered by a huge new announcement, so big it blocked everything else—the lists for auctioning second‑hand Spellbooks, Argus Filch's regular reminders about school rules, the Quidditch team's training schedule, notices about swapping Chocolate Frog cards, a new advertisement from the Weasley Brothers looking for test subjects, the dates for Hogsmeade Village weekends, and the lost‑and‑found.
The new notice was printed in big bold type, with what looked like a very official seal at the bottom and a neat, flowing signature beside it.
"Hogwarts Senior Investigator Decree":
All student organizations, associations, groups, and clubs are hereby dissolved.
It is hereby defined that organizations, associations, groups, and clubs refer to regular meetings of three or more students.
Permission to re‑form may be requested from the Senior Investigator (Professor Umbridge). No student organization, association, group, or club may exist without the approval of the Senior Investigator.
If any student is found to have formed or joined any organization, association, group, or club without the Senior Investigator's approval, they are to be expelled immediately.
The above regulations comply with "Educational Decree Number Twenty‑Four."
Signed:
Senior Investigator Dolores Jane Umbridge
A few second‑years were reading the notice, looking rather worried.
"Are they going to shut down the Gobstones Club?" one of them asked his roommate.
"I think your Gobstones Club will be fine."
Ron said this darkly, making the second‑year jump.
After all, Ron was a Class Prefect now; to ordinary students, he did carry a bit of pressure.
"But I suspect Umbridge is targeting you," he said to Harry again.
"Targeting me?" Harry raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah," Ron said in a low voice. "I think she's got her eye on your Defense Against the Dark Arts Class already. She might allow you to go on teaching the fifth‑years, but she's probably already found out about your plan to teach other years. This decree is very likely aimed straight at you!"