Author's Note: Any complaints about Ron doing something loudly should be directed to Rowling, as the line is directly from canon.

Revision 2.00

Chapter 2: Class with Umbridge

Harry Potter trudged into Defense Against the Dark Arts. If what he'd heard thus far was true, he wasn't looking forward to this class. Professor Umbridge was seated behind her desk, wearing a pink jacket over a lighter shade of pink blouse. She had a kitten brooch above her left chest, and black velvet bow in her hair. As she sat there, watching everyone file in, she took a sip from a steaming hot cup of tea.

Then, with her hands folded in front of her, she said, "Well, good afternoon."

Harry, along with a few other members of his class mumbled back, "good afternoon."

"Tut, tut," Professor Umbridge said. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply, 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class."

With that, Harry immediately classified Umbridge as a sickening sweet, more for the form than knowledge, teacher. "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," he joined the class in saying.

"There, now," Umbridge said in the same sickeningly sweet tone. "That wasn't difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

This was not promising. Harry shoved his wand back into his bag and pulled out his quill, ink, and parchment. He could hear some mumbling around him, surprisingly more of it coming from the Slytherin part of the room. He looked up, spotting Professor Umbridge pulling her unusually short wand out of her handbag and tapping the blackboard sharply. A heading appeared on the board.

Defense Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

"Well, now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" Professor Umbridge stated as she turned to face the class, her hands neatly folded in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

Umbridge rapped the blackboard again, and the first message vanished and was replaced. As it appeared, Harry felt growing concern.

Course aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

As Harry copied down those words, his concern rose. It had been barely a month since the ministry put him on trial. He'd barely gotten off, and he knew that Professor Umbridge had been one of the ones who voted for his conviction. He was sure of it now, this woman had it in for him.

"Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur. It was a required book, so Harry had no idea why any student wouldn't. Ron's copy was a battered first edition dating from 1940. Hermione had said it was a shame it was in that condition.

"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang throughout the room.

"Good," Professor Umbridge said. "I should like you to turn to read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Harry had been using chapter one instead of counting sheep since he'd first opened the book. He opened to the page, and absently noted that he'd gotten a bit of drool the page. He was strongly considering Madam Marchbanks' offer. If this was a sample of Umbridge's teaching, he knew he'd learn absolutely nothing from her. If there was one thing Harry knew it was that he couldn't afford a class where he learnt absolutely nothing. Fortunately, he'd put last year's book in his bag.

As he reached down to get the other book, he noticed that Hermione had not even opened the book. He looked at her, and she shook her head slightly. He altered his action, and pulled out the list of books that Professor Lupin had given him as well. It was the list of all the books that all the professors of Defense Against the Dark Arts had ordered for all years during Moony's years at Hogwarts, plus the years that Harry had been at Hogwarts. The latter Harry had added the previous night.

Harry opened last year's book on top of the book that Professor Umbridge had chosen, and then started to look down the list. As he did so, he noticed that half the class wasn't reading. Instead they were looking at him and Hermione.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, why aren't you reading the book I assigned?" Umbridge asked, when it became impossible to ignore.

Harry decided to let Hermione answer first. "I've read the book. I've got a query about your course aims." Hermione had a particular expression her face that he was sure he'd seen before.

"Well, we're reading just now, but I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully." Professor Umbridge's voice sounded full of faked sweetness.

"Well, I don't," Hermione said bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

The whole class was now silent, staring up at the board. Every one of them started to frown.

"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "I can't imagine any situation arising in my class that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked in class."

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron ejaculated loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr?"

"Weasley," Ron said, thrusting his hand into the air.

Professor Umbridge turned her back on Ron. Harry knew that was a bad idea. You didn't turn your back on a Weasley that you had offended, and Ron looked offended. Harry raised his own hand, and so did Hermione. Professor Umbridge's eyes lingered on Harry for a moment. "Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," Hermione said. Harry was beginning to classify her expression. He thought he'd last seen that expression at the near the end of second year. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge, in her false sweet voice.

"No, but —" He had it now. Hermione's expression was the same as the one that she'd had in the last days of Professor Lockhart's class.

"Well then, I'm afraid that you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised ... yes Mister Potter?

Apparently Harry's glare and raised hand had finally gotten to the Professor. "I'm afraid Hermione is right. Per Hogwarts charter of classes, Defense Against the Dark Arts is the study of and practical application of spells to defend against the dark arts. In particular, the International Standard, and the Wizarding Examination Authority expects that by the end of the first term, we shall be proficient in several defensive spells, including several introduced this year, such as Protego. Of course, that's not the real problem that I personally have with your class. My problem is that this book of yours was last used in 1974, this same edition, as the first year text book. It's so boring that I'm using it as a sleep aid."

Harry didn't think that Professor Umbridge had expected him to answer that way. In fact, she seemed to be speechless. The facts he'd learnt in the last few days, since his visit from Madam Marchbanks, about the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts, had been a bit disturbing actually. No professor lasting more than a year since 1950 something ... he continued as it didn't seem that Professor Umbridge had a response.

"I need a professor to teach me in this class, preferably without having a plan to kill me. After all, this is the class that's supposed to teach me how to defend myself, and thus far I have had to defend myself against a Professor with a Dark Lord in the back of his head, a basilisk, a werewolf and a hoard of dementors, and survive a tournament designed for wizards with three more years of education. So, my question is, are you going to teach me to defend myself from say, Voldemort, or not."

"Voldemort is not back!" Professor Umbridge said. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

"I stand by all my previous statements, though I didn't actually say that Voldemort was back this time," Harry said. "He has been behind three out of four of the major issues I've experienced since I came to Hogwarts, and he is back."

"Detention, tonight at eight!" Umbridge ordered.

Harry picked up his bookbag, and slid his books into it. "I shall be there, Madame Umbridge, but I don't think I shall be back in this classroom, as long as you teach in it." The room was so quiet that Harry was sure he head a pin drop. Umbridge's face was turning more purple than his Uncle Vernon's ever did.

Harry stepped out into the aisle, and turned away from the fuming professor. As he began to exit, Hedwig flew into the classroom. Circling Harry once as he walked out, she landed on his outstretched arm. "Hedwig, I think I'm going to have a letter for you to take," Harry said as he swung the door closed behind him.

Ron Weasley watched as the door swung behind his best friend. Then he turned his attention back to Umbridge. He'd already decided that she was less deserving of the title Professor than Snape. Ron wasn't the best student at Hogwarts, in fact he'd chosen his electives just because they seemed to be the easiest ones that he was interested in. He was not going to take Muggle Studies, no matter it's reputation and his father's encouragement. That being said, Ron was actually an above average student, as long as he got his homework done. Of course in the shadow of Hermione, even an above average student looked bad.

Ron knew his place when it came to studying in the trio. Hermione pushed for studying, Ron made sure they didn't study too much. After all, all work, no play makes anyone a dull wizard. Of course, with Harry around, it was never dull. Now though, Harry had declared that he wasn't going to be in this class. Ron had no doubt he was going to hold up to that. Harry didn't make statements like that without at least trying to hold them up.

Ron had let his hand down when Harry had started speaking, and raised it again now that Harry was gone. Umbridge pointedly turned away from him. He put it down again, and opened his battered book to a bookmark midway through, remarking. "I guess it will be December, then, before I find out the proper course of action when encountering a dangerous creature beyond my ability. Wait, that was the third day of class, my first year under P-P-Pro-Professor Quirell."

Umbridge turned around, and looked like she was about to say something, as Ron turned to the back of the book.

"According to this, Hermione, we're supposed to run to get help when we encounter a basilisk," Ron said. "So next time, don't go creeping, looking around corners with mirrors. Run straight to the Ministry ... though it might actually be more effective to get a rooster, or barring that, call in an experienced basilisk killer, like Harry.

"We're also supposed to run to the Ministry if we have a dragon after us. I'm not sure how successful that would be. Dragons are a lot faster, especially when air born, and if we got to the Ministry, I imagine that there would be a Statue of Secrecy violation that would never be able to be covered up. It's not like the Ministry is in a feed store in Pagosa Springs. It's in the middle of London, not far from the Tower. I'd call my brother Charlie, or Harry for advice before risking that."

"Mister Weasley, you were not given permission to speak, that's ten points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn, and detention tonight with Mister Filch for not respecting the wisdom of your books!"

"Wouldn't Madam Pince be a better choice for respecting books?" Ron quipped back.

"Twenty points! Now, everyone read you book. I will not tolerate any speaking the rest of the period."

Ron opened his book back up to the beginning, and with a smirk, pulled out a quill and parchment. Perhaps it was time to pull something out of Hermione's playbook, instead of Harry's for a change. Not that Hermione really plotted against teachers. Out of the corner of his eye he could tell that his expression was having quite an effect on Umbridge, as she stalked around the room. Every time her gaze turned to him, and his continued expression of glee, her frown seemed to deepen. Over on his left, Hermione seemed to be following his lead, as Ron took notes on what he knew was wrong with the book.

There wasn't much more time left in the period, though. He'd only gotten through twenty pages of text, with about four feet of parchment. As he put up his book and notes, Hermione leaned over and asked "Pagosa Springs?"

Ron just smirked, and walked out of the classroom, his mind already plotting. "Hermione, I think I'm going to enjoy studying this book." Ron watched Hermione's expression slide towards incredulous.

"Let's go find Harry," Hermione said, her fingers rubbing her temples. "Maybe he'll make sense."