Oh dear. I'm uploading the thirteenth chapter on Friday the thirteenth. *nervous chuckle* It will be alright, right? In any case, thank you all so much for your continued support. I love getting those wonderful reviews of yours. Thanks for keeping me motivated!
Chapter 13
There was only an hour left before the train would arrive in Hogsmeade. Harry sat expectantly in the Great Hall. He had nowhere else to go since he didn't know the password to Gryffindor tower and he hadn't seen McGonagall yet so she couldn't give it to him either. The library might have been an option but Harry had had quite enough of books at that point. His hand still ached with phantom pains when he remembered just how often he had needed to rewrite his potions essay.
The house-elves had been nice enough to provide Harry with as much tea and hot cocoa he wanted. He played with the snitch Ron had given him for his birthday. With no one in the Great Hall, it was rather fun to chase that tiny golden ball, relying on nothing but sound when he lost track of it. But soon, he wasn't alone anymore.
A short, stocky woman dressed entirely in pink entered the Great Hall with an arrogant smile on her face. Her chin was tilted high and she stopped in the entrance, breathing in deeply as if savouring her presence there. Harry frowned as he stared at her. Whoever she was, she didn't appear to have noticed him yet.
Damn, she looks like some sort of wedding cake!
And then her little eyes narrowed when she spotted Harry standing near the Slytherin table where his snitch had flown off to.
"Oh my," she said in a sickly sweet voice. "A student in the Great Hall at this hour? Shouldn't you be on the train, dear?"
Harry shivered involuntarily when the woman spoke. It was a bit unfair of him to judge someone when she had hardly spoken a word but he couldn't help himself. He didn't like her.
"Other arrangements were made for me, ma'am," he replied with a shrug. "It wasn't safe for me to take the train."
The woman's eyes flittered to his scar for one second before she looked him in the eye again, smiling kindly. "But of course," she said. "It wouldn't do for the boy-who-lived to be harmed in any way, would it?"
Harry frowned but said nothing.
"No, I thought not," the woman continued. "Never mind the other children, right? It's not as if they ever defeated a dark wizard wielding nothing but luck."
Oh, I definitely don't like her.
He still didn't say anything, worried that he might set her off or something. She seemed like the kind of person that would explode at the smallest wrongdoing. Instead, he grabbed his snitch and made to leave.
"Oh, but where are your manners, young man?" the woman asked, still sickly sweet. "Surely you know that you should respond when your elders address you?"
"I do," Harry said evenly.
The woman tilted her head to the side, probably thinking she looked cute doing so. "I see that you might have a bit of an attitude problem," she said. "The minister warned me of that already, of course. He and I are quite close, you see?"
Harry snorted and the woman glared at him.
"Yes," she then said. "Something tells me that you and I will be seeing a lot of each other this year."
Ugh. Don't tell me that she's the new defence teacher.
"And why is that, ma'am?" Harry asked dryly.
"Well," she said. "Since I'm your new teacher, I will try and rein in that obvious temper of yours as well as your attitude problem. You won't get far in life when treating your superiors in the manner you are, you see?"
"I don't have an attitude problem," Harry said through gritted teeth.
"Dolores!" a new voice then spoke. McGonagall appeared in the entrance, staring down at the short woman with a very stern expression. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"Ah, Minerva," Dolores said. "How good of you to come. I understand that this boy was sorted into your house?"
McGonagall glanced at Harry, a silent warning in her eyes. "That is correct," she drawled.
"Ah," Dolores said gleefully. "Then I must inform you that he is rather rude. He clearly has no respect for adults."
"That's odd," McGonagall replied thoughtfully. "He always pays me the utmost respect."
Dolores bristled and crossed her arms. "Well," she huffed. "You would do well to teach him to do me the same courtesy. I have half a mind to assign him a detention."
What the bloody hell? I didn't even do anything!
"Since the term hasn't officially started yet, I'm afraid that's not an option," McGonagall said easily.
Dolores scoffed. "Very well," she said. "I'll let you off with a warning this time, Mr Potter," she snarled. "Make sure that you correct your attitude by the next time we meet." And then she turned on her heel and walked towards the high table, her heels clicking loudly in the empty hall.
"I didn't do anything," Harry hissed when she was out of earshot. "I swear, Professor, I –"
"Be that as it may, Potter," McGonagall said softly, "you would do well to be careful of what you say and do around that woman. I'm sorry that I have to ask this of you but lay low." She put an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "And don't worry too much. She'll be around for one year at the most." She winked at Harry and he managed a small smile in return.
It was an hour and a half later that the students finally started filling in the Great Hall. Harry – who was already seated at the Gryffindor table – motioned towards Ron and Hermione who went to sit with him as soon as they saw him.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed before engulfing him in a warm hug. "You weren't on the train!"
"Yeah," Ron interjected. "We thought you missed it or something. Or that those muggles didn't want you to come back this year."
"It was a security matter," Harry told them quietly. "Dumbledore was afraid that Voldemort might attack the train if I was on it."
"See?" Hermione told Ron haughtily. "I told you it was something like that."
"Way to go, genius," Ron said sardonically. "No one else could've possibly figured out that the-boy-who-lived might be granted extra protection."
"Hey!" Harry protested. "Don't call me that!"
"Sorry, mate," Ron apologised. "I'm a bit frustrated. Sorry about that."
Harry raised an eyebrow in question. "Why?" he asked. "What happened?"
"Malfoy happened," Ron growled. "That's what."
"Actually," Hermione added, "nothing really happened. That's why he's so annoyed. Ron bumped into him on the train – very much on purpose I would say – and Malfoy… well-"
"He didn't even react!" Ron exclaimed. "Acted like I wasn't even there. Like I was worth less than the dirt stuck to the bottom of his shoe."
"I'm sure it wasn't like that, Ron," Hermione sighed. "He seemed to be deep in thought."
Ron scoffed. "Sure, take his side!"
"Guys!" Harry interrupted. "could you please not fight? I haven't seen you in ages and hardly heard from you at all. So let's not discuss Malfoy, alright?"
"Fair enough," Ron said. "Now, where's the food?"
Hermione sighed. "The sorting comes first," she reminded him. "And then the introduction of the new defence teacher."
Harry snorted. "Yeah, she seemed like a hoot."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, frowning. He looked at the staff table and smirked when he saw the newest addition to the staff. "is it her?" he asked, thoroughly amused. "That pink pastry is going to be our new defence teacher? She looks like she would be done in by one well-aimed bat-bogey hex."
"I don't know," Harry said carefully. "There's something odd about her. I think we have to be careful. McGonagall told me as much, already."
"She did?" Hermione asked, frowning. Harry knew that she would always listen to a teacher but when said teacher was clearly opposed to another, that made matters a whole lot more difficult.
"We'll see what happens," Harry told her. "I'll just try not to antagonise her too much and we'll be fine."
Though I already made her mad.
They didn't get much more time to reminisce and speculate since that was the moment McGonagall brought in the first years. Much like every year, Harry stared at them and wondered if he was ever really that small. The hat sang his trademark song and soon, the first student was seated on the simple stool and the hat placed on his head.
As always, the children seemed to be divided rather equally among the four houses. They all seemed so innocent and happy to be there. Even the Slytherins stared at the older students in awe. They were, after all, just kids themselves, not yet shaped by their houses. It would take a week at most for that to change.
Harry clapped dutifully each time a new Gryffindor joined their table and watched Snape a few times when a new Slytherin was added to his house. He couldn't detect any emotion from the man, though he clapped every time his house was chosen, albeit it without much vigour behind it.
"Why do you keep staring at Professor Snape?" Hermione asked, perceptive as always.
"I'm not," Harry objected.
Just trying to find out if anything changed. If he's going to say anything.
"And why is Dumbledore staring at you?" Ron added.
"What?" Harry shifted his gaze slightly to look at Dumbledore. The man was indeed watching him and when they locked gazes, he was overcome with a vibrant fury he had not often experienced in his life. This man had condemned him to live with the Dursleys even after knowing full well what went on in that house. Dumbledore didn't care about him. He only cared about 'the greater good' no matter how much that would affect a boy who lost his parents to a madman.
Dumbledore looked away and Harry regained control of his emotions. It didn't matter anymore, did it? The damage was done and by now the amount of time he still needed to spend with the Dursleys was so little that he might as well just accept his fate.
"That reminds me," Ron said. "Was it Dumbledore that came and got you?"
Harry frowned. "Got me?" he asked. "What do you mean?"
"Well, who came and got you since you weren't allowed to take the train?" Hermione interjected.
"Oh," Harry said, finally understanding. "It was Professor Snape. He apparated us here."
Ron gasped so loudly that everyone in their direct vicinity turned their heads to look at them. "What?" he hissed. "You've got to be kidding me! No wonder you're so gloomy!"
Damn, and here I thought I was hiding that rather well.
"I'm not gloomy, Ron," Harry said grumpily. "I'm just hungry."
Before either of his friends could open their mouths to respond, Dumbledore rose from his seat to make the annual announcements. Harry hadn't even noticed that the sorting had ended. The warnings were the same as always and as expected, the toad in pink was introduced as their new Defence teacher. Dolores Umbridge was her name and judging by the looks on the teachers' faces, she was not a welcome addition to the staff.
Dumbledore clearly tried to gloss over the new addition but Umbridge had different ideas.
"Hem hem."
The entire student body looked at her in disbelief and shock when she interrupted the headmaster. Even Dumbledore himself seemed somewhat taken aback but he stepped aside and allowed Umbridge to speak.
"Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome," she said. "And how lovely to see all your bright happy faces smiling up at me. I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends."
"That's likely," Fred and George said sardonically. Harry suppressed a chuckle.
"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizard of vital importance. Although each Headmaster has brought something new to this historic school," she looked pointedly at Dumbledore in a manner that wasn't exactly well-meant, "progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prune practices that ought to be prohibited. Furthermore, I would hope sincerely that all students abide by the school rules set for their own protection. Transgressions would be very inconsiderate towards your hard-working Professors."
When Dumbledore thanked Umbridge for her ridiculous little speech, Harry was already zoning out, frowning at the empty table in front of him.
"She gives me the creeps," Ron whispered to his comrades.
Hermione's expression was thoughtful. "For once, Ron," she said, "I actually agree with you."
Food appeared out of nowhere and Harry could hear a few first years squeal in surprise. While still fascinated by the magic of this place, he was no longer astounded and simply grabbed a piece of bread that had so kindly appeared right in front of him.
The very first Defence class of the year was quite the experience. Harry hadn't slept very well that night. He knew he hadn't made any noise since he hadn't woken up any of his dorm mates but that hadn't made the nightmare any less real.
And Defence class was, in one word, boring. Even more so than History had been. When Umbridge had ordered everyone to put their wands away and take out quill and parchment, Harry had shared some befuddled looks with some of his classmates. For a moment, he expected a pop quiz. Unfortunately, that hadn't been Umbridge's intention at all.
"You will not be needing your wands in my class," she had explained. "It is far more useful for all of you to learn the theory behind the defensive spells rather than practice them without a solid base."
Harry frowned. "But if we won't practice them, how will we be able to defend ourselves?" he asked angrily.
Umbridge ignored him. "Students will raise their hands before asking a question," she said sweetly. Harry bristled and raised his hand rather violently. Umbridge smiled and turned to look at him. "Yes?" she asked, acting as if she hadn't heard his earlier question.
I swear I'm going to hex this woman before the year is over.
"Why won't we learn how to defend ourselves?" he asked, trying to stay calm.
"Mr Potter," Umbridge said, sighing dramatically. "Do you expect to be attacked in my class?"
Harry wanted to get annoyed with her. He wanted to tell her that, no, of course, that's not what he meant. That he wanted to be prepared against Voldemort and his foul minions. But for some reason, his mouth had other plans.
"Yes," he said. "Absolutely."
Umbridge seemed slightly taken aback. "Excuse me?" she asked, her voice a bit smaller.
"Let's take a look at the facts, shall we?" Harry said angrily. "First year, my defence teacher was housing Voldemort in the back of his head and tried to kill me by the end of the year."
Umbridge paled considerably at the mention of Voldemort's name, her lips clenching tightly.
"Second year," Harry continued, his voice starting to sound less angry and more controlled. "He didn't exactly try to kill me but Lockhart did try to wipe my brain and land me in St Mungo's for the rest of my life."
A few people chuckled and Umbridge looked very angry. "Mr Potter –"
"Third year," Harry said casually, ignoring Umbridge completely. "Okay, so he didn't actually intend to, but our Defence teacher turned into a werewolf and tried to kill me or at least horribly maim me."
"I hardly think –"
"And last year," Harry then said. "Our Defence teacher was actually a death eater in disguise who forced me to be in the Triwizard tournament and delivered me to Voldemort by the end of it. He actually very nearly succeed in killing me."
Umbridge was red with anger and Harry knew that he should shut up but he just couldn't.
"The way I see it, you have a fifty per cent chance of being affiliated with Voldemort in some way; seventy-five per cent chance to try and kill me or have me killed and one hundred per cent chance to actually attack me in some way or another," he deadpanned. "So when you ask me, Professor, if I expect to be attacked in this class, I can honestly tell you that, yes, yes I do."
The entire class had fallen silent. The only thing anyone could hear was the angry and harsh breathing of Dolores Umbridge. She kept straightening her pink cardigan as if she didn't know what to do with her hands, her eyes locked on Harry.
"How dare you?" she asked, her voice soft but dangerous. "How dare you accuse me or any of your other teachers of such things? Everyone knows that you're nothing but a filthy liar, Mr Potter."
"I'm not lying!" Harry exclaimed.
"Yes you are," Umbridge countered. "You-know-who has not returned in your fourth year, no matter what you tell people. No teacher has ever endangered you as you claim and I am, quite honestly, appalled that you would expect me to do you harm."
"Voldemort has returned, though," Harry said.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!
"Just because some people choose to stick their heads in the sand, doesn't make this any less true."
McGonagall told me to stay low! She's going to have my head for this.
"One hundred points from Gryffindor!" Umbridge screeched angrily.
And there you have it.
"And you will join me in detention this evening, Mr Potter," she added. "I will make sure that no such lies ever cross your lips again."
It took mere hours for Harry's outburst to become the stuff of legends. Every time Ron told the story, he added another outrageous detail. According to his latest version, Harry had demanded to see her left forearm which Umbridge had absolutely refused to show him. Fred and George were already making shirts and badges that read 'Potter VS Pink' and were making quite a profit in selling those. Harry wasn't exactly happy with the extra attention but was relieved that people weren't focusing on what the prophet had been saying about him lately.
"Honestly, Harry, that was rather rude of you," Hermione told him during dinner.
"Was it?" Harry snarled. "I didn't say anything but the truth."
"Yeah, Hermione!" Ron added, his mouth full of half-chewed bread. "Harry only used math to defeat the beast. Shouldn't that put some extra owls in your coop?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at them both. "Nevertheless, I don't think you should have accused her like that," she said. "Think about it. It's her first day on the job and already an unruly student has made a mockery of her. Don't you at least feel a bit sad for her?"
Harry snorted. "I thought you didn't like her class either?"
"Well… no," Hermione admitted. "I do think we need practical study as well, of course, but that doesn't mean I think she's a bad person or a death eater in disguise."
"Hey, I never asked her to show me her arm," Harry said defensively. "That is entirely Ron's fabrication."
"But you did make a complete fool of yourself, did you not, Mr Potter?" a stern voice suddenly asked from behind him. Harry froze mid-chew when he recognised his head of house. Sheepishly, he turned around to face her. She was glaring at him from behind her rectangular spectacles, not a shred of compassion to be seen.
"Since you're already serving detention this evening, I would like you to cut your dinner short to come with me now, Mr Potter," McGonagall told him. "I'll make it short so you can serve your detention on time."
Harry glanced at his friends to try and get some help from them but he should have known better. Ron was staring at his plate rather sheepishly and Hermione glanced at him helplessly.
"Oh, and Mr Weasley," McGonagall added as an afterthought. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your… embellishments." Ron opened his mouth to reply but closed it again after consideration.
"Come along now, Mr Potter."
Harry shoved his plate aside and got up from his seat. Under the gaze of the entire student body and the Professors present at the high table, he was marched out of the Great Hall. He only just caught Snape's disapproving glance. He didn't know why that bothered him so much.
McGonagall didn't say another word until they reached her office. With a flick of her wand, she closed the door and added a silencing spell for good measure. She then took the seat behind her desk and steepled her fingers as she waited for Harry to sit down as well. He did so, sitting rigidly in front of his head of house.
"What part," McGonagall said, "of the words 'lay low' did you not understand? Were you confunded when I asked you? Did you somehow understand the exact opposite of what I intended?"
"No, Professor," Harry replied. "But Umbridge was being unfair! Did you know she won't even let us practice our spells?"
"Professor Umbridge, Mr Potter," McGonagall corrected sternly. "And my personal views on her lesson plan are of no matter. That is up to her alone."
And you people wonder why our defence professors have all sucked so far.
"Furthermore," McGonagall continued. "I don't think accusing her of infidelity towards the ministry was a good move on your part. Professor Umbridge is very fond of her position and jeopardising that will only antagonise her."
Harry scoffed. "I hardly think the minister will take what I have to say into consideration," he said. "I'm the boy-who-lied, remember?"
"You're lashing out, Potter," McGonagall said. "But that kind of behaviour won't serve you well. I advise that you serve whatever detention she has planned for you without complaint and make sure not to earn yourself another one in the near future. You already lost our house a hundred points today and it's only the first day of school. Keep out of trouble, alright?"
Keep out of trouble and ignore the obvious flaws in our system. What does it matter if no one learns how to defend themselves, right?
"I'll try, Professor," Harry said evenly.
McGonagall sighed but waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Be on your way," she said. "We can't have you be late."
Harry left the office and shut the door a bit more loudly than was strictly necessary. But he just couldn't help himself. His head of house should be on his side, shouldn't she? How could she not understand that Umbridge was going to be a problem? Asking him to lay low. Harry muttered some expletives under his breath as he kept walking in a brusque pace, headed towards Umbridge's office.
When he rounded the last corner, he almost ran smack dab into Crabbe and Goyle. For once, Malfoy wasn't part of the pack. They quickly shushed each other when they realised Harry was there.
"Eavesdropping, are we Potter?" Crabbe asked venomously.
Harry frowned. "No," he said coldly. "I'm just walking."
Goyle smirked. "Whatever," he said. "One word, Potter, and we'll make sure you regret it."
Flabbergasted, Harry watched as Crabbe and Goyle hurried away, throwing a glance over their shoulders every now and then.
Now what are those monkeys up to?
Deciding that now was not the time to go chasing after suspicious Slytherins, Harry knocked on Umbridge's door.
"Come in," sounded her sickly sweet voice. Harry clenched his jaw and entered the office. The first thing he noticed was the appalling pinkness of the décor. She even charmed the bricks to be a pale pink and there were portraits of kittens hung all over the small room. They were all mewling loudly and hissing when Harry walked past.
"Ah, Mr Potter," Umbridge greeted. "Cutting it kind of close, are we?"
It was five minutes to seven so Harry knew he was on time. "Professor McGonagall wanted to see me," he said honestly.
"Ah, that's good," Umbridge said, fake kindness colouring her voice. "I do hope that she got through to you. It won't do to speak to your superiors in the tone of voice you used. You do understand that, don't you?"
Keep a level head. Lay low. You said you'd try.
"Yes, Professor," he replied as meekly as he could.
"Outstanding!" Umbridge exclaimed, happy as a niffler in a dragon hoard. "Now, I do still need to punish you for your lies, you understand."
Harry nodded jerkily.
"Good," Umbridge said. "Go ahead and take a seat. You'll be writing some lines for me today."
Harry did as he was told. He was given parchment and a quill but no ink. Puzzled, he looked up to meet Umbridge's suspiciously gleeful gaze.
"Yes?" she asked.
"I don't have any ink," Harry pointed out.
Are you really that stupid or do you enjoy me pointing out the obvious?
"You won't need any ink, dear," she said. "Why don't you begin? You'll see for yourself soon enough. The line you'll be writing is 'I must not tell lies."
"How many times?" Harry asked blandly.
"Oh, let's see," Umbridge replied thoughtfully. "Enough for the message to sink in, I think."
Harry frowned and after that puzzling set of instructions began to write. Soon it became very clear why Harry didn't need any ink. By the time he was finished that night, the sentence was carved deeply into his hand, dried blood colouring its edges and pain coursing through his nerves right up to his elbow.
"Well," Umbridge said, sounding quite pleased with herself at the end of the evening. "Do you have any new information about you-know-who?"
Harry narrowed his eyes at her.
Lay low, fine. But I won't lie.
"Nothing you don't already know," he said. "Just that he's back and will probably be attacking soon."
"I'll see you again tomorrow, Mr Potter," Umbridge replied without missing a beat. "You are dismissed."
Before you say anything, I know. There was no Snape in this chapter. I'm terribly sorry but this is how the chapter had to go. Snape will return in the next one.
On that note, I have to announce that the next update will be for Friday, again. No, don't grab your pitchforks just yet. Let me explain! As I've been writing these last chapters, I realised that it would be dead useful for me to have the final arc written already. It will help me put together a logical and deep story. On that note, I've been writing the last arc and am doing everything I can to finish that swiftly. (I've even put my original story on hold for this)
After that is done, I'll probably update twice a week again. But for now, bear with me, alright?
And please, please review. As always, I'm curious to hear what you think. And let's face it. It doesn't hurt my ego either.
See you all next Friday!
