Word Count: 1,324

Year Five

The summer after his fourth year started out pretty terrible.

Then again, when wasn't it when he was at the Dursleys?

Thankfully, it was only for an hour as both Remus and Sirius were delayed by a meeting of some sort—they had written him on the train, profoundly apologized, and promised both to hurry up and explain everything possible.

But there was one thing that made the night bearable.

Ron called.

Harry had no idea how his boyfriend—wasn't that incredible? He had an actual boyfriend. And it was Ron—had even gotten the Dursley's number, but he honestly didn't care.

The chatted until the sun started to rise again.

A few weeks later, Harry read an article in the Prophet about Dementors that had gotten loose around Little Whinging.

The Dursleys had been the main victims—they had their souls sucked out—and a terrible part of Harry couldn't bring himself to feel sorry.

And even if Remus and Sirius assured him that it was more than alright for him to feel this way.

"Hey, at least Remus can finally legally adopt you in the muggle world," Sirius had pointed out.

He had gotten letters from Ron, Hermione, Neville, and the twins—presumably Ron had sent his off before the rest even noticed what had nearly happened—asking him for confirmation that he hadn't been there.

Harry wasn't quite sure he could believe that he had this much luck with his friends. They logically knew nothing happend and cared enough to make sure.

Harry had never been more fed up with a Professor more than he was with Professor Umbridge.

At least Quirrel, Trelawny, and Binns stuck to ruining their own lessons and Lockhart could be largely avoided with a bit of practice.

He was reluctant to admit it, but even Snape was better than her. At least he actually taught something! Not very effectively, but still something.

They weren't learning anything in those lessons.

"It's even worse than with Lockhart if you ask me," Harry complained to Ron one evening. "At least we didn't really need it back then."

"Stop talking about that," Ron replied, shaking his head and moving a hand over Harry's back. "Don't let them take up any more of your thoughts than they absolutely need to."

Harry blinked. "That was surprisingly wise."

Ron threw a pillow at him. "Shut up."

Harry had been ecstatic when Ron had confessed that he wanted to try out for the Quidditch Team. He was additionally careful the entire week not to catch another detention with Umbridge—if either Ron, Sirius, or Remus ever found out what he had had to do in that week, she wouldn't live another day.

Never before had he been to grateful for Hagrid's cooking skills. His friend had offered him a treacle tart earlier that day and—once Umbridge's back was turned—he had, er, eaten just enough of it to prevent him from speaking up.

Harry was not going to miss this for anything in the world.

"You can't always do that, you know," Hermione informed him once she had removed everything from Harry's teeth.

"I know," Harry admitted. "But this worked for the moment. And I'm not going to let her win."

It was Hermione who had the idea to assemble a group of students and practise together.

At first Harry had been really reluctant to go up there, but once he actually tried it, he found that he loved to stand in front of the others and teach them.

It was an amazing feeling and this was something Harry could imagine doing for the rest of his life.

Forget being an auror, once all of this was done he would do his best to settle down—hopefully with Ron at his side—and never get into another battle ever again.

He hadn't even really been in a proper one and he was already more than sick of them.

How could Malfoy possibly dare to insult the Weasleys? The family that had taken them in as if he was one of them, who had introduced him to the way families were supposed to act, and who didn't deserve what they got but so much more?

How could he possibly dare doing something like this right in front of the twins and Harry? Surely he knew that they would defend her, so why on earth would he do something like this?

It was only when his fellow teammates—well, ex-teammates—pointed it out that he understood that it may have been on purpose, to give Umbridge a reason to punish them.

But still, Harry didn't regret punching Malfoy. Not quite.

Nothing would change that, no matter how hard they tried.

...though the Quidditch Ban came very close.

Umbridge's detentions were terrible. It didn't take a genius to realize that, so Harry was well aware of it.

He was, however, surprised, when Ron dragged him off to Professor McGonagall the very second the redhead had read the words.

"Professor McGonagall, we need to get rid of Umbridge," Ron spat the last word the way he reserved for Voldemort or Pettigrew.

"Mr. Weasley, I am afraid there is nothing I can do against that," Professor McGonagall tried to placate him.

"She hurt Harry!" Ron raised the other boy's had to Professor McGonagall's face.

Harry looked from his hand to Professor McGonagall's face and realized one thing:

Umbridge was lucky if she survived this year—physically speaking. Mentally seemed pretty much impossible.

Harry's Christmas was completely and absolutely amazing.

Everyone he loved and cared about was there. Ron, Sirius, Remus, Hermione with her parents, and the rest of the Weasleys—except for Percy who was too busy being friendly with the Ministry.

But they didn't let that ruin their mood.

Harry spent the days snuggled between Sirius and Remus and the evenings and nights cuddling Ron.

If only moments like these could last forever.

Of course, that happiness was interrupted by a message from Snape—he didn't deserve the title of Professor anymore than Umbridge did. The man was undeniably educated in the subject, but he shouldn't have been a teacher.

So it was safe to say that Harry was not exactly excited to spend more time with the man.

When he spoke with Ron about this, his boyfriend gave him one advice. "The faster you learn, the faster you're done."

And Harry aced the lessons.

Once Umbridge had been removed—the woman had disappeared under 'mysterious circumstances' which basically meant that Professor McGonagall had worked together with the Weaselys, Remus, Sirius, and anyone else who had volunteered—their defense group had a discussion on whether or not they should stay as a group.

Almost everyone wanted to and Harry was most definitely one of them.

"It's almost like having friends," Luna Lovegood—a Ravenclaw in the year below them—commented.

"No, it's not," Angelina Johnson argued as she laid an arm around the younger girl. "I think you meant to say 'it's almost like having a ridiculously large family'. Because we are friends. All of us."

Preparing for the OWLs was the most stressful thing Harry had lived through so far.

For what had to be the first time since he had been better than Dudley on that first—essentially meaningless—test, he was actually trying.

He wanted to make everyone proud.

It worked quite well, too—or at the very least he thought so—until the written exam of History of Magic.

Binns wasn't even in the room and still managed to put him asleep, but that wasn't the thing that was important.

He saw Sirius getting tortured by Voldemort in the place he had spent half a year or so dreaming about.

The very second he could get away with it, Harry raced up to the dorm and rummaged through his truck.

"Harry...what...are you...doing?" Ron asked once he entered the room behind him.

"Give me a second, then I'll explain," he replied. He had found the mirror and hurriedly called his godfathers.

Thankfully, both answered.

Meagan936: Actually, Harry is bisexual in this verse. Ginny will find someone else. She's a strong independent woman who doesn't need any man to support her anyway. But I still thank you for reading my story!

Please tell me what you think!

~Marvelgeek42