In which Ramona Burke can't keep her fat mouth closed

-September 1995-

Ramona was always first up in her dorm, not wanting to deal with grumpy Slytherin girls who were irritable enough after their morning coffee, so she showered and dressed in a hurry before quickly petting her owl, Bacon, and slinging her schoolbag over her shoulder.

The Great Hall was mostly empty so she was left in peace to eat her toast while reading, the sun flooding the room with warm hues of yellow and orange. She sipped her tea as she read a book with worn pages, the spine practically falling apart. As the Hall filled up, the professors began to hand out schedules, most students groaning loudly in disappointment at the arrangement of their classes.

Ramona glanced at her own and sighed, Transfiguration first thing then double Potions with the Gryffindors, followed by Ancient Runes and then Defence Against the Dark Arts. Still, it wasn't looking as bad as the Wednesday which didn't involve a single doss class and included Astronomy at midnight.

"I want to die and to then have my cold and lifeless corpse sink into the ground, never to be seen again."

"Descriptive, Lee."

"Thanks, how on earth are you up so early without looking like death?"

Ramona slid a steaming cup of black coffee across the table. "I always look like death so you just don't notice and I wasn't up late gossiping with Daphne."

"What's first?"

"Transfiguration."

"Ew, choke me." She ripped into a piece of heavily buttered toast.

A sly smirk pulled at her lips. "Didn't know you were into that kinda stuff."

Blaise Zabini sank into the seat next to Delilah, snatching the toast out of her hand and taking a considerably large bite. "Oh yeah she is, are you really that surprised?"

"Shove off," she scowled at him but let him keep her food. "You wish."

They chuckled and proceeded with the usual back-to-school questions that none of them particularly cared about but seemed customary to ask. Ramona liked Blaise, he wasn't as set in Muggle-hatred as the rest of their friends were, sticking to mild insults rather than outright targeting muggle-born students but he was painfully arrogant and disdainful and cared a bit too much about other people's opinions of him. But the odd thing was, was how nice he was on his own and even borderline kind he could be after a few Firewhiskeys.

Daphne joined them after another ten minutes, sluggish in her movements and with dark circles under both eyes yet she still managed to look like she'd stepped straight off the runway. Her younger sister, Astoria, followed closely behind her and sat but a few seats away from the rest of them. Daphne was also very nice when not around Draco and Pansy or her parents, all of whom brought out a malicious, catty side to her but this was usually directed at others outside their little group so Ramona didn't mind it too much. It helped that Daphne had dirt on pretty much everyone in the school and was full of juicy stories.

"You're looking well rested, Daph." She smirked at her.

"Fuck off, Mona, I'm not in the mood, Ryan Connelly is back together with Efina Brooks, even after he danced with me all night at the Malfoy's."

"We saw, we were all there."

"Did you not once call Ryan an 'uncooked spaghetti of a boy' or did I misinterpret you?" Blaise asked with a deceptively straight face.

Daphne went a bit red. "I hate you all."

Ramona had decided not two minutes into class that Dolores Umbridge was a colossal raging bitch and if her many disagreements with Professor Gilderoy Lockheart in her second year was any indication, she'd be spending the better half of the year in detention with the hag.

Umbridge watched them with beady eyes from behind her desk as they filtered in and once everyone had sat down she spoke in a high-pitched, sickly sweet, patronising voice. "Well, good afternoon."

There were a few muttered replies. She tutted. "That won't do now, will it? I should like you to reply 'Good afternoon Professor Umbridge'. One more time, please. Good afternoon class!"

They replied as she'd asked but in a dead monotone in stark contrast to her false cheer.

"There now," she said with a thin smile. "That wasn't too difficult now was it? Wands away and quills out please."

She caught Delilah's gloomy eye and they silently agreed that this year was about to be an incredibly infuriating one. Usually new teachers tried to open with a fun and interesting class, evidently, Umbridge did not care. Ramona reluctantly tucked her wand back into her bag and withdrew a long, chewed-on quill instead, often the victim of mistaken identity for once of her Sugar Quills.

Professor Umbridge tapped the blackboard sharply with her wand and the words Defence Against the Dark Arts A Return To Basic Principles scrawled themselves across the surface. "Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it? 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 O.W.L. year.

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

She tapped the blackboard with her wand again and more chalky words began to appear.

Course Aims:
1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

Ramona wrinkled her nose as she scanned the words. Really it just sounded like a bunch of bullshit that just meant the Ministry didn't approve of Dumbledore's handling of the school. In all fairness, they hadn't exactly the best record for DADA professors but Professor Lupin was brilliant and at least with Moody's imposter she learned a little. Still, she bit her tongue and copied it all down.

"Has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?" The class murmured the affirmative but of course this was not good enough. "I think we'll try again. 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."

"Good," she said. "I should like you to turn to page five and read 'Chapter One: Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

Ramona and Delilah shared another look before turning to page five and starting to read as the toady woman settled herself behind her desk looking quite smug. Her eyes passed over the text but no meaning went into her brain, silently accepting that she had a very tedious year ahead of her if every lesson was to follow as such and Umbridge proved herself to be as dreadfully up Fudge's arse as Ramona assumed.

As she glanced up briefly from the page, she noticed Hermione Granger's hand high in the air. Now, this was not an unusual occurrence, Granger often would stick her hand up to answer a question perhaps ten times a class, if not more, but what was odd was that Umbridge had asked no question and that she was pointedly ignoring Granger. Several minutes passed and neither force surrendered. Most of the other students had also taken to watching this exchange rather than reading Wilbert Slinkhard's atrocity of a book.

When more than half the class had their attention focused on Granger, Umbridge relented, knowing she could no longer ignore the situation and wait for it to disappear (although this was usually the Ministry's go-to strategy). "Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

"Not about the chapter, no." Granger said, shaking her impressively large hair.

"Well we're reading just now," Umbridge slightly bared her pointed teeth. "If you have other queries, we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims."

Ramona sat up straighter in her seat, suddenly far more intrigued by this promise of drama.

The professor's thin lips pursed. "And your name is?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully." Her voiced strained slightly.

"Well I don't," said Granger with so much bluntness, Ramona was taken aback. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

There was a short silence. Ramona frowned and glanced back up at the board. For however annoying Granger could be, she was right. Suddenly, the Ministry's motives became overwhelmingly clear, regulate what the kids learned, reprogram them into uncritical halfwits and blatantly ignore the return of the Dark Lord almost like if they did it hard enough he'd pack his bags and vacation off to France to do some serious self-reflection and soul-searching.

"Using defensive spells?" Umbridge laughed patronisingly. "Why I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

Ramona's hand flew up.

"Yes, Miss-" the sweetness in her voice became even more forced.

"Ramona Burke. But, is the whole purpose of the class not to prepare us to help defend ourselves against dark wizards, creatures and magic?"

Umbridge looked her over with pouchy eyes. "Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Burke?"

"No, but if you're the standard they're looking for I don't think I'll have a hard time at it."

Delilah was staring daggers into the side of her head, clearly reading the situation as Ramona taking Granger's side but in the moment she couldn't have cared less. This woman was unbelievably stupid on top of her incredibly detestful personality.

Her eyes had narrowed into slits and the young Slytherin was surprised she wasn't given detention right on the spot. "Well then I'm afraid you're not qualified to decide what the 'whole purpose' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defence spells in a secure, risk-free way-"

"What use is that?" Harry Potter said loudly. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a-"

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr Potter!" She said in a half shout, half sing-song, the oddest intonation Ramona had ever heard in her life.

Potter thrust his fist in the air, looking fairly heated but Umbridge pretended she couldn't see it but at the same time, several others raised their hands, Ramona included.

"And your name is?" She turned to Dean Thomas with a barely concealed tut.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it? If we're going to be attacked it won't be risk-free."

"I repeat." She smiled down at him in a very irritating fashion. "Do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"No, but-"

Professor Umbridge cut over him. "I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school," a smile stretched over her lips. "But you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed-not to mention, extremely dangerous half-breeds."

Ramona felt her cheeks heat up in anger. "If you're referring to Professor Lupin, he was the best-"

"Hand, Miss Burke!" She took a second to recover from her outburst. "As I was saying-you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day."

"No we haven't," Granger said. "We just-"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"

Granger put up her hand as Ramona's scowl deepened. Umbridge turned away from her, once again deflecting the situation. "It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you."

"Well he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" Dean Thomas spoke again, hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads."

While their fourth year professor had ended up being a psycho Death Easter Azkaban-escapee in disguise as renowned Auror, Alastor Moody who had been far from kind and one of Ramona's most hated teachers, they had in fact learned a lot from him. If not thanks to him, she'd be unable to resist the Imperius Curse.

"Your hand is not up, Mr Thomas!" She screeched. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?"

Parvati Patil's hand had also now joined the throng. "Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled exam conditions."

Ramona scoffed loudly from her seat, unable to help herself. "We're expected to perform O.W.L. level defensive spells with absolutely no practice beforehand? Forgive me if that sounds like beetle dung to me, Professor."

"Ten points from Slytherin, Miss Burke." Umbridge replied cooly. "I repeat, so long as you've studied the theory hard enough-"

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" Potter's hand was up again, now looking very heated.

She regarded him with disdain. "This is school, Mr Potter, not the real world."

"Then how are we expected to defend ourselves 'in the real world'?" Ramona said again.

"There is nothing to defend yourselves against, Miss Burke."

"Oh yeah?" Potter seemed to have reached peak anger, his fists clenched and his ears a violent red.

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children, like yourselves?" She asked in a horribly patronising voice.

"Hmm, let's think..." Potter said in a mocking tone, sure to anger her even more. "Maybe...Lord Voldemort?"

The reaction was as she anticipated, many in the class flinched or gasped, Lavender Brown let out a tiny scream, Neville Longbottom slipped off his stool but neither Umbridge nor Ramona moved. Her sister, Regina, had always referred to him by that name, usually with a curse following quick after so she'd never quite understood the stigma behind it.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter."

The rest of the class fell dead silent, either looking at Potter or Umbridge, anxious to see what happened next. The toady woman stood up from behind her desk and leaned towards them as if it was supposed to be threatening.

"Now let me make a few things quite plain." She said venomously. "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead-"

"He wasn't dead." Potter fumed. "But yeah, he's returned!"

"Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," She said in a single breath without even glancing his way. "As I was saying, you have been informed a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."

"It is not a lie!" Potter was shaking with anger. "I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr Potter." She spoke. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners'."

She sat down behind her desk, looking triumphant, but Potter popped up in her place like a Jack-in-the-Box. Granger tugged at his sleeve, looking fearful, but he blatantly ignored her.

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?"

Ramona felt ice run through her veins at the mention of her deceased friend. She'd tried to keep him out-of-mind over the summer, for her own sake, but clearly he'd been haunting Potter, the only one who'd actually seen him die, too.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident."

"What do you suppose killed him then, Professor?" Her head felt light upon her shoulders. "A bleeding garden Gnome? It was clearly the Killing Curse, there was a witness and everything!"

She felt hot tears well in her eyes but blinked them back as soon as they appeared.

"Detention, Miss Burke, same time, same place." Her face was blank. "I repeat, a tragic accident."

"Voldemort killed him and you know it!"

For the few long seconds after Potter's outburst, Ramona was sure she'd scream at him but then she spoke in her softest, most sickly sweet simper. "Come here, Mr Potter, dear."

He kicked his chair aside, it screeched on the stone floor and strode up to her desk as the class watched with bated breath. She pulled out a roll of pink parchment from her desk (Ramona guessed it was scented too, she got those kinda vibes off her) and began to scribble some words down upon the surface, the scratching of her quill on the parchment the only sound in the room for an agonising minute or so. She sealed it with a tap of her wand and handed it to the boy in for the of her.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear."

He took it without saying a word and left the classroom with a slammed door behind him. There was another few seconds of painfully awkward silence before: "If you'll please continue with your reading, page five, 'Basics for Beginners'."
~~

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Mona?" Delilah has to jog to keep up with her friend's long strides. "Taking Potter's side?"

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I wasn't taking his side, I simply agree with the fact that she's a colossal bitch."

Delilah grabbed her arm and whirled her around. "And all that shit about Diggory? I get that you two were friends but at the end of the day, he was a blood traitor."

She opened her mouth to argue, to bite back but held her tongue once she thought twice about it. It wasn't safe to go around defending blood traitors and muggleborns these days, especially not around her friends. "It's not like it matters anymore, he's dead."

"Yeah, so no more of that, right?"

"Right."