Standing out side of Snape's door I flip through my Defense Against the Dark Arts book that Malfoy had handed me just seconds earlier. Once Snape opens the door to his classroom I file in along with the rest of the students, taking a seat towards the front where I know Draco will more than likely sit.
"Settle down," says Snape as Draco slides into the seat next to mine. "Before we begin today's lesson I think it is appropriate to remind you all that next June you will be taking an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly is I expect you to scrape an 'acceptable' on your O.W.L., or suffer my…displeasure." Snape continues his eyes set on Neville.
Glancing over at Malfoy I shrug off Snape's words, they are only meant for certain people in this class. I for one have had high marks in potions since the beginning…it is one of my favorite classes though the professor is not at all pleasant.
"Today we will be mixing a potion that often shows up at the Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion used to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned, if you are too heavy handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy sometimes irreversible sleep so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients are methods are on the board."
I follow the directions closely, adding no more or no less than it says. I plan on passing potions this term with the highest mark possible. Nothing, not even a potion that requires exact measuring, will stop me from achieving that.
Towards the end of class Snape comes around with a small, glass vile for each of us who has made what looks correct, instructing us to fill them then label it with our name.
"Have a nice day Professor," I say, handing over my potion before leaving the class.
Next up Defense Against the Dark with the horrid toad Umbridge.
The Dark Arts room is uncommonly clean, everything put in its place. Even the desks are perfectly straight, probably done by magic but still it is odd. I take a seat across the aisle from Harry who looks displeased to be in the class.
"Good morning children," Professor Umbridge says cheerfully once everyone had taken a seat. "Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations. O – W – Ls." she continues walking towards the front of the class.
Umbridge is wearing yet another of her hideous pink cardigans, causing her to look very much like a large pink marshmallow.
"More commonly known as OWLs," Umbridge explains. "Study hard and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so and the consequences may be severe. Your previous instruction in this subject had been disturbingly uneven. But you'll be pleased to know from now on you will be following a carefully structured, Ministry approve course on defensive magic," she says as our books slowly float down the aisles, landing on the desks in front of students.
"Meaning we'll be doing absolutely nothing with our wands." I mumble from my seat across the way from Harry who had his wand out.
"You'll be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk – free way," states Professor Umbridge clearly having heard what I said.
"What use is that?" questions Harry. "If we're attacked it won't be risk – free."
"Students will raise their hands if they wish to speak in my class," says Umbridge. "It is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be sufficient to get you through your examinations which, after all is what school is all about."
"And how's theory supposed to prepare us for what's out there?" asks Harry.
"It doesn't. That's the point," I state looking over at him.
"There is nothing out there, dear. Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourself?" says Umbridge.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe Lord Voldemort," replies Harry who looks rather agitated.
For a moment Professor Umbridge looks as if she might be at a loss for words. Obviously her Ministry training didn't prepare her for Harry, yet none the less she answers, "Now let me make this quite plain. You have been told that a certain dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."
"It's not a lie. I saw him. I fought him," Harry exclaims his fingers balling up into a tight fist.
"Detention, Mr. Potter." Professor Umbridge says.
"He's telling the truth you daft women," I state. "Why is the Ministry so against what is happening? Your precious Minister, Fudge, has done and gone loony and no one wants to believe it. So instead of facing the truth you go about telling people that Harry Potter and Dumbledore are nutters. If anyone's a nutter here it's you!" I continue my temper rising by the second.
It is clear this women was sent into Hogwarts for a purpose, and that purpose is to dull the minds of students on certain subjects. I suppose also she was sent to cast down the idea that Voldemort is back among any that might actually believe Harry. But I won't have it. Dolores Umbridge needs to learn that it is not her place to tell others that they spread lies…even if I'm the one that has to teach it to her.
"Enough!" yells Professor Umbridge. "Enough. See me later Mr. Potter. My office. Oh, and Miss. Black you may join him."
"Perfect," I reply before standing, gathering my bag and walking out of her class