I own only what's in my head. The rest belongs to various authors/producers/ and government agencies.

Here's chapter 21 of Magic vs. MA.

98989898989898989898989898898989898989898989898

Malfoy was livid as he entered the Slytherin common room. His expression was so dark, that the students gathered in the spacious room quickly vacated it once he and his companions stormed over to the couches near the fireplace. So hasty was the retreat, that most students abandoned their possessions and belongings, prefering to stay away from the obviously irate trio.

Malfoy's teeth were grinding together as he glared into the fire. He was beginning to hate Saotome more then he'd ever hated Potter. At least Potter was a competent and powerful wizard from a strong family, even counting his mother's muggle blood. Saotome was nothing but a muggle commoner with no magical ability at all. He humiliated and belittled Malfoy through the use of parlor tricks, not magic. Draco hated the thought that he was constantly being upstaged by that mudblood looser. He had to find some way to punish Saotome for his impertinence.

Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances while their compatriot continued to contemplate his rival's comeupance. They were well aware of what their associate was thinking. They'd all discussed possible ways to eliminate both the Saotome man and the Potter boy. But none of them was powerful enough to accomplish the deed in an unobtrusive manner. Not even Umbridge had been able to offer any usefull suggestions, paling at the mere mention of retaliating against Saotome and warning them all to leave him and his freaks alone. Crabbe and Goyle were trying to convince Draco to listen to the old witch, but so far, the egotistical fool was ignoring their attempts.

"There must be a way to deal with the foul mudblood!" Draco demanded of the empty air. "He must have some weakness that I can exploit."

Unknown to the three, a pair of eyes were watching from the shadows. A small purple and white kitten was hidden under a plush chair, listening in as Crabbe and Goyle tossed suggestions that Draco vetoed. The kitten rolled it's eyes at some of the sillier ideas the two larger boys called out, and felt only a glimmer of hope when the blonde boy denied those suggestions. If these were the best of their generation as purported by the Dark Lord and his followers, then the Dark Lord was in for a huge disappointment. None of the Slytherin's she had followed and spied on had even the smallest fraction of true darkness in their souls. Only the three here, and a few of the females might one day be worthy of being called Dark Wizards.

The cat shook her head, a tiny jingling sounding in the room. It was lost among the roaring of the fire and the scheming of the boys. Disgusted with her chosen allies, the kitten turned and stalked silently out of the room towards the chambers it shared with it's grandmother. She was very glad that her grandmother was spending so much time down in the dungeons with the students, trying to help them learn more about the making of various potions, both Amazonian and outsider.

Upon entering the chamber, the kitten made it's way by the hanging tub and pulled on the chain, sending a cascade of warm water over itself and changing the kitten into a busty purple haired chinese girl. The girl, uncaring of her nudity, made her way to her private room, and locked the door. She dressed in a silk outfit similar to her warriors armor, but more aesthetic then protective. She then went over to the closet, and entered. She pulled the door closed behind her, and then pulled down on the hanging bar. A hidden door opened, and the girl walked into her private potions lab.

She puttered for a while, checking on some of the long brew potions, and some of the shorter brew potions. Everything was going along well, and the girl was pleased. Her plans were beginning to take shape, and she'd already had a successful meeting with the Dark Lord's closest associates. She was supposed to be meeting with the Dark Lord himself in a few weeks time to finalize plans to gather the best of the martial artists who would follow the Dark cause. She had a second list to the one she'd given already, one with names of certain Amazons and Pheonix people who were dissatisfied with the way Ranma had subjugated their people.

Satisfied with the progress so far, she decided to spend the rest of the day practising her forms. She didn't want to loose any of the skills she'd worked so hard to gain. She also didn't want to get into any of the bad habits she was training into the Slytherin's. It was incredibly hard to teach people to deliberately make mistakes in an art she loved so much, but it had to be done. She could not teach the foolish westerners the true paths of martial arts, and seethed whenever she noticed Mu Tsu or her grandmother correcting the mistakes and subtle errors in forms she'd worked to ingrain in them. It galled her for it made her grandmother think she was unworthy of being a teacher, which was the second most important task in the village, behind being a warrior. But the good thing was it further convinced her grandmother that she was what she was pretending to be: a weak, misguided, and easily distracted fool.

It couldn't be helped though, she thought to herself sadly while stretching out. If she wanted to bring her people back to their rightful place as the leaders of her homeland, the nsome personal sacrifices had to be made. Dignity and respect were things she could sacrifice now, and be praised for later.

898989898989898989898989898

Harry stiffled a laugh as Ron and Neville's spells backfired on each other. They were working on the earlier charms Flitwick had taught, trying practical applications to the essays they'd been assigned. It was almost like their charms class had been transformed to a second DADA class. Which made them all gratefull, since they now had a legitimate reason to practice the earlier spells and brush up on the ones they might have forgotten in the five years they'd been coming to Hogwarts.

Behind him, he heard Akane and Hermione whispering to each other about something. He couldn't quite make it out, but from the little shrieks and the red faced looks Hermione kept throwing Ron, he guessed it was of a somewhat private nature. He shook his head, both pleased and annoyed that his two closest friends were exploring a different side to their relationship. He spared a moment of selfpity to wonder if he'd ever get the chance for any kind of relationship before shaking his head to clear it of dark thoughts. The world was at a dark crossroads and the future was uncertain for all of them, not just himself. If his two closest and oldest friends could find comfort in these trying times with each other, then who was he to deny them? He should be happy for them, for he more then most, knew how difficult life could be without any kind of love to support you. His entire life had been near loveless, only the long forgotten and short period of time he'd spent with his parents contained any love within it.

Certainly, he'd gained friends, and a sort of friendship with the Weasley family since his return to the wizarding world, but it just wasn't the same as the love his parents had held for him, or the love they'd shared with each other. More then anything else- more then Quidditch, defeating Voldemort, or continuing to out perform Malfoy- Harry wanted to find someone to share his life with. Someone who would look at him and see only Harry, not The Potter Childe or the Boy-who-Lived. Just an average looking boy, with unkempt hair, and crooked glasses who was only mildly better at some magic then others. A lonely boy who wanted friends and family who cared for him, and who liked him. Instead of the relatives he was forced to live with. Relatives who hated and despised him and wished for nothing more then that he didn't exist.

He snorted and tried to pay attention to Flitwick, who was describing what had gone wrong with Neville and Ron's spells. His mind quickly started to wander again, and finally settled on the almsot universally hated Umbridge. He wondered if the Minister was trully aware of how the woman functioned. He'd seen several students come running out of detentions with her, crying and sobbing with pain, clutching their hands to their chests and not letting anyone see them. He'd experienced a small bit of it himself, when he'd served his first detention with her after refusing to allow her to humiliate Trelawney. He'd been brought to her little office off the dungeon level, and been made to right lines with a quill.

The quill had drawn blood from him to use as ink, and had cut the words into the back of his hand. Luckily, before it could get really bad, Millicent Bulstrode had come charging in, her hair as white as snow and her skin bearing a Tartan pattern. She'd claimed that Fred and George had tricked her into eating a tart left on the Gryffindor table at supper. Furious, Umbridge had gone off to scold the pair, only taking a moment to glance at Harry's hand. She did so to check if the words had started to show in the skin. Seeing them there, the witch had sent him on his way. She'd given him a warning that he needed to adjust his attitude and stop spreading lies, or next time, the words might bite deeper.

Harry didn't need much imagination to realise what was happening to his fellow students. The only problem was there was little he could do. All be told, he was only a student here at the school and had no power or strings to pull to get the woman removed. Not even the fame he had as the Boy-who-Lived could be of much help, thanks to Fudge's giving the woman free-reign over the school. Not even Ranma's influence was making a dent in the thick headed Minister's mind.

No, he and his fellow students just had to wait it out. Eventually, Voldemort would have to make a move that would announce his return to the public and then Fudge would have to backpedal quickly if he wished to remain in office. And Harry would make sure that his backpedling included the removal of Umbridge and her HIS and all of the insane rules and regulations the old biddy had forced on the school. Then he'd have Fudge removed from office and reveal the truth about his association with Lucious Malfoy and how easily he'd been bribed by that esteemed fellow. Though once Voldemort started up his attacks again, he'd have to find a way to expose all those who'd been at the resurrection. He'd need Dumbledore's help for all this, but considering what the old man and Sirius had told him, they had plans of their own in the works. He'd just have to make sure that the plans he and his friends formed didn't interfere with Dumbledore's.

The class ended and Harry gathered his books. He hadn't had a chance to practice the spells, but he didn't need as much revision of these spells as others did. He'd already had practical use for most of them just to make it to this year. Last year along, he'd gone through more spells and tricks then ever before to win the Triwizard cup. And still it hadn't been enough to keep Cedric alive.

Feeling the rise of sorrow again threatening to overtake him, Harry shook his head and leaned against the wall just outside the room. He had to wait for his friends who were still talking to the professor. They had Transfiguration next and rumor had it that Umbridge was going to finally sit in on another of his classes.

He hadn't long to wait as Ron, Hermione and Neville soon came out the door, talking avidly to each other while studying a small sheet of parchment.

"What you got there, 'Mione?" Harry asked as he fell into step next to Neville.

Hermione looked at him with a small frown. "Weren't you paying attention, Harry? This is the homework for charms for the next two weeks! Professor Flitwick made us wait after the rest of class left to give it to us. He also mentioned, and I quote: 'I hope you find this useful in your OTHER studies, Miss Granger, Mr.'s Longbottom and Weasley. I wish you and ALL your . . . associates the best of luck.'"

"So why's that go you so hyper, Hermoine?" Harry asked, not seeing the reason for the giddy manner of his closest friends.

Ron spoke up. "It means he KNOWS, Harry. He knows about HarHarTu, and he's trying to help out by giving us some spells and stuff to work on."

Harry gave the three a skeptical look, but Neville spoke before he could say anything. "Ron's right, Harry. None of the stuff here is supposed to be on the curiculum for this year. This is all at least 7th year or higher work, Harry. He's doing what he can since he can't openly teach us these spells without Umbridge finding out."

Harry took a moment to ponder what the others had told him. If Flitwick knew about the 'study group', and approved, how many other teachers also knew? Would any of them be willing to provide a little extra 'homework'? He needed to find out, and decided that he'd have to sneak into the teachers wing that evening to find some answers. He'd gather some of the members tonight at the Room, and go over a possible plan. If they were lucky, all the teachers would know, or at least suspect, and be willing to lend a hand though he doubted that Snape would approve. He seemed to get on well enough with the fat slug.

But first things first: Transfiguration was about to start, and he needed to focus if he wanted to transform the frog into a cat.

8989898989898989898989

Ranma grinned as he finished an assignment before handing it in to the teacher. He was actually doing pretty well in this class. Of course, he'd had a lot of experience over recent years with both healing arts and accupuncture. Tofu was still trying to convince him to become a doctor, but he found his interests drawn more and more to the physical nature of the world around him. His enhanced senses allowed him to view things that scientists had only speculated about for years, and he was tempted to go the path of science instead of medicine.

Kasumi and Akane playfully suggested he do both, but Ranma wasn't sure if he'd have the time. He did have to keep up his training, and spread his teachings to other students, as well as run a newly formed country. Being a doctor of medicine and quantam mechanics might a little much to add to his responsibilities. Maybe he'd choose one, then a few years after he finished studying, he'd go for the second.

Looking around and noting that he was the only one of the students done, Ranma glanced at Kasumi, who was teaching this class, and gestured outside. She gave him a bright smile and a wave, indicating that he could leave. He returned her grin, and bowed before sauntering out of the room, pausing at the last row to make a show of his exit as a jab at Ryoga and Taro who were struggling to finish the assignment. The two growled at him, then broke off to throw each other surprised looks while he laughed as he walked out.

With nothing else to do, the itch was more noticeable. He'd felt it for a few days, and knew that he had to do something about it. He just hadn't had the time to spend on scratching it until now. It was supposed to be a double Accupuncture followed by a spar, then lunch, so with a few hours to kill, Ranma decided to head to the platform where he'd left from during the Quidditch game.

He made his way out of the castle and walked around to the side with the platform. He could easily jump the full height or float up with the levitation trick Haabu had taught him but he felt like doing it the old fashioned way. So he lept for one of the side walls then rebounded and pushed himself higher to hit the other side wall. He continued jumping from wall to wall until he near the top. He did a couple of fancy flips and rolls in the air before landing on one foot on the precise tip of the wind compass. He stood there in a crane stance for a moment before flipping off the compass and over to a small ledge. He used the ledge as a launching point, and shot almost twenty feet straight up. His hands grasped the railing of the rampart and he through himself up and over onto the landing.

Grinning to himself he performed the obligatory bows and crowd waves even though there were no crowds. That done he made his way to the center of the stone catwalk landing and sat in a seiza position. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small marble. It was made of volcanic rock and contained a high quantity of ash residue. Which meant there would be a lot of carbon for him to play with. He'd done a lot of experimenting with this trick and was now trying different types of rocks to find the one that worked best. So far coal and graphite were the leaders, but he had high hopes for this volcanic rock and it's ash. He though he might be able to make purple diamonds, and maybe a dark red or green. He'd not been able to do those colors yet with the others, having found the most success in pinks, blues, and yellows.

He looked at the rock inches from his crossed legs and started to focus his inner eye on its shape. Soon he was lost again in the wonderous subatomic world he'd discovered just about a year before. Now though, he had enough exprience not to loose control and cause either an explosion or turn himself into a living popsicle. With a lot of work the only changes would be a slight drop in the ambient temperature around him and the drawing of electrical energy into his body from any active electronic equipment. Luckily, he didn't draw lightning bolts down anymore though he could do so if needed.

After a few moments, the his view shifted, and he was again lost in the subatomic world, seeking for new discoveries.

89898989898989898989898989898989898998