A/N To one of the guest reviewers (I can't respond to your review directly if you're not logged in). It's not at all difficult to use double quotation marks, it's a simple press of the shift key. However I've decided to use single quotation marks for this story as is standard in British publishing.

'Let's get outta here,' Ron said urgently, opening the bathroom door and looking out into the corridor.

Harry stared at Malfoy a moment longer. He knew what he wanted to say…two against one, just like your father…but he remained silent. Those words would have no meaning, Malfoy had proven that being called a Death Eater was honourable to him, not an insult. And besides, Malfoy may have lost this fight, but he had won the battle…this was not an incident Harry could hold his head high about.

He tossed Malfoy's wand to the other side of the bathroom, watching in savage satisfaction as he lunged for it, comically dragging himself across the bathroom floor. But he showed mercy to Nott, whose agonised laughter had now reached ear splitting volume, and he released the curse. With a shuddered cry of relief Nott quietened, his chest heaving for breath as he became limp. Harry pocketed his wand, done with the both of them.

With merely a gesture, just to remind Malfoy that he could, Harry gathered his belongings and sent them soaring back into his schoolbag. It was a jumbled mess, pages of books bent and quills broken in half, but that was a price worth paying. Slinging his schoolbag over his shoulder he followed Ron and Hermione out of the bathroom, leaving Malfoy there to fend for himself or wait for help.

Out in the corridor he found Crabbe and Goyle slumped over unconscious. Just as Hermione had alluded Crabbe's face and neck were covered in angry red pustules, while it seemed Goyle had been spared the indignity.

'We were worried about you,' Ron explained, the three of them hurrying down the corridor. 'We saw Malfoy follow you, so obviously he was up to no good.'

'It's all clear,' Hermione announced when they approached the mouth of another corridor. Waiting a little way down each side were several members of the DA. 'Quick, go before you get caught!'

Harry's heart lifted a little at the realisation that not only had Ron and Hermione come to his aid, but so too had the DA. He paused in the intersection of the two corridors, watching to make sure everyone got away safely, smiling a little when he noticed Ginny and Luna Lovegood hurrying away. Ginny looked back, giving them a wave before disappearing around a corner.

'I like what you did with Malfoy,' Ron said in admiration, clapping Harry on the back. 'You didn't even need us then, eh?'

Harry shook his head darkly, yanking his invisibility cloak out of his bag. 'I did need you,' he murmured, mentally going through all that had just happened. 'I didn't know Crabbe and Goyle were out there.'

'Have you ever known Malfoy to go anywhere without those two to hold his hand?'

'No,' he admitted, shaking out the cloak and gesturing for them to come closer. 'Get under here.'

It was a good call. Taking advantage of the empty hallway the three of them huddled together under the cloak and waited, and barely twenty seconds later came a chorus of heavy footsteps. Malfoy had indeed called for back up, no fewer than seven Inquisitorial Squad members arriving on the scene and sprinting straight past them.

From the safety of the cloak they watched as some roused Crabbe and Goyle while others burst into the bathroom with great shouts. A short while later Malfoy stepped out of the bathroom, looking a little worse for wear but otherwise unharmed. Nott was soon to follow, though he seemed a little unsteady on his feet as he recovered from the tickling curse.

Harry wasn't surprised that Malfoy appeared calm and reserved, that he was no longer fired up or furious that his worst-enemy had soundly beaten him…the point of that duel hadn't been to win, a fact Harry began to explain when they lined up outside their first morning class, Charms. He had serious doubts that it was truly Malfoy who instigated that duel, but rather Umbridge had put him up to it.

'We need to tell McGonagall,' Hermione implored, her cheeks flushed pink in outrage. 'If Umbridge is trying to get rid of you Professor McGonagall can intervene.'

In agreement he nodded, resolving to go and see her during morning break. 'If she accuses you of anything, deny it,' he told them. 'It's me she wants. You two don't need to get caught up in it.'

In an instant Ron and Hermione were arguing, furious that he would even suggest taking the fall on his own for a second time.

'No bloody way!' Ron said vehemently, his outburst startling Professor Flitwick who had just opened the classroom door. Looking around Ron lowered his voice. 'You're not taking this on your own. Not again.'

'There's no point in you two getting in trouble. Hermione, you once said being expelled was worse than death. And Ron, your dad doesn't need one of his kids being expelled. So you'll both shut it. Alright?'

Their whispered arguments continued as they filed into the classroom, broken only by Flitwick who stopped him and Ron at the door, singling them out for the poor state of their uniform. Exasperated they straightened themselves up and tucked their shirts in, looking at one another with determination in their eyes. Harry knew that his friends had struggled with the notion that he alone had been punished for the DA, that they hadn't been by his side, but he felt the complete opposite. They had protected him from a great deal this year, and he needed to protect them in return, especially when it came to Umbridge's vendetta.

'Mr Weasley, is that truly the best you can do?' Flitwick asked expectantly, gesturing to his tie.

'Erm…yes?'

Shaking his head Flitwick raised his wand, Ron's tie immediately straightening out and tightening around his collar. But Flitwick wasn't done, and he turned his wand on Harry next, repairing the gaping hole in the sleeve of his robes that Nott had inflicted and then straightening his tie too for good measure.

When they were finally admitted inside Harry took one of the seats by Hermione, then immediately regretted it. While the rest of the class chatted happily as they took out their books Hermione leant over and continued whispering her arguments, refusing the idea that they wouldn't take responsibility for helping him when he was attacked.

'…and you're mad if you think Professor McGonagall can't do anything to protect us too. What happened was completely unjust - it was two against one! Ron and I were only defe- hey! Where are you going?'

Harry had picked up his schoolbag and was pushing their chair back in, leaving her mid-sentence to find a seat elsewhere. Her mouth gaped, eyes bulging in outrage. Were it any other time he would have laughed at how mortally offended she looked, but right now he didn't have the mental capacity. The reality of what just happened with Malfoy was starting to hit.

'Take your seats please,' Professor Flitwick called, striding down the rows of desks towards the front of the classroom.

Hermione dithered, having risen out of her chair to go with Harry, and she seemed rooted to the spot, paralysed by indecision. Take her seat as instructed, or follow him and force him to endure ninety minutes of listening to her plead her case?

'Harry, if you-'

'Miss Granger, that means you too. Take your seat.'

Dejected, Hermione sank down into her chair and looked at him pleadingly, willing him to see reason. Ron on the other hand took no issue with pushing Flitwick's boundaries, and made quite a scene as he heaved his books back into his schoolbag and followed him.

'Mr Weasley!'

'Yeah, I'm sitting,' Ron said distractedly, pursuing Harry to the other side of the classroom where he had taken a seat alongside Dean.

'One point from Gryffindor.'

Undeterred, Ron settled for the seat behind Harry's, and for the next twenty minutes he endured his best friend inundating him with more than a dozen scraps of scrunched up parchment. For the most part Harry ignored them, his only interaction being to slip the balls of parchment into his pocket so that Flitwick didn't catch them. He relented only when Dean showed him a scrap of paper with Ron's handwriting that read tell harry to read the notes.

Relenting, if anything to stop the notes from coming, he covertly opened one and looked, but he rolled his eyes when he found Ron's handwriting so small and cramped that it was illegible. When Flitwick was distracted he turned around in his chair and looked at him.

'I can't even read this,' he hissed, tossing the note back.

Ron narrowed his eyes and leant forward. 'It says don't be an arse hat!' he whispered back. 'We're not letting you take this alone.'

Sick and tired of the argument Harry turned back to the front of the classroom, and then he cast an impertuable charm around himself. A few minutes later he heard Ron's exasperated muttering that suggested the next note he tossed had bounced back at him, unable to reach its target.

To his relief Ron gave it up, allowing them both to finish the remainder of class in relative peace. Thankfully the class was passing quickly, the double period easily filled by some theory work and then practicing how to make teacups to grow legs. But for the most part Harry was distracted, his mind somewhere else entirely.

He was trying not to let it bother him - the fact that Malfoy was trying to get him into trouble was no surprise, nor was the likelihood that Umbridge was in on it. He knew this was how things worked right now, that he just had to endure it until such a time he had actual power to do something about it. But right now the only one with any power to help him was McGonagall, who he trusted would come through for him. If Umbridge tried anything that involved getting him out of Hogwarts, McGonagall and Dumbledore would make sure she didn't succeed.

But Merlin…how much more of this was he supposed to take? How much worse was it going to get? Between his schoolmates thinking he was a mad liar, Snape and Occlumency, losing the DA, then Umbridge and Malfoy again, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. Every time something else came up it just piled on top, other problems receding into the background onto to make an untimely resurgence to remind him they too were still there.

It was about fifteen minutes before the end of their double period that an interruption came. Doing his best to remain inconspicuous so as to not cause embarrassment Professor Flitwick came over to his desk.

'Mr Potter, the Headmistress has sent word that she would like to see you.'

It seemed Umbridge wasn't wasting any time. 'Did she say why?'

'I'm afraid not,' Professor Flitwick said, looking at him sympathetically.

Resolved to facing this now Harry packed up his books, and when he stood up to leave he saw Ron mouthing to Hermione across the classroom, Umbridge. Hermione's eyes widened in alarm, and under cover of the chaotic classroom she hurried to intercept him as he left.

'We'll go straight to McGonagall,' she hurriedly whispered. 'Don't let her get a rise out of you, okay?'

Harry nodded, but he didn't respond. He left the classroom, feeling the eyes of many students following him in interest, but he gave them no satisfaction of even meeting their eyes. Out in the corridor he was met by three seventh year students, each of them wearing an Inquisitorial Squad badge on their robes.

'Takes three of you to escort me, does it?'

They laughed at him, one of them making an underhand comment, but Harry ignored them and let them escort him. They went down one flight of stairs to the second floor, and then across the castle to the Defence Against the Dark Arts wing. When they arrived at Umbridge's office one of the seventh year students hastened forward and knocked on the door.

Slowly the door opened, revealing Umbridge and her sickly sweet smile. 'Yes?'

'We've got him, Professor.'

Umbridge looked round at Harry, feigning surprise as if she hadn't known exactly why she had been disturbed. She looked at him in satisfaction, pleased to see he was flanked by three members of her Inquisitorial Squad.

'Thank you, Miss Simpson,' she preened, not taking her eyes off him. 'Five points each to Slytherin. Now off you go - back to class now.'

It didn't surprise him in the slightest that Umbridge had students skiving off class to do her bidding, but for now Harry held his tongue. When she opened the door wider he stepped into her office as instructed. The smell of her dried flowers seemed particularly pungent today, and it made him cringe as much as the sight of his Firebolt and Fred and George's Cleansweeps chained to the wall behind her desk. That sight was almost as bad as the nameplate at the front of her desk on which gold letters spelled HEADMISTRESS.

While Umbridge closed the door and then rounded her desk Harry cast his eyes to the far corner of her office, noting the lace draped table he normally sat at for detention. To his relief the parchment and Blood Quill she normally had waiting for him were not set out. At the very least that was a good sign. Umbridge wasn't bold enough to make him use that quill in broad daylight when any student or teacher could interrupt them.

'Take a seat, Mr Potter.'

Umbridge's desk chair magically pulled out for her, and she paused to neaten the pink shawl draped over the top of the winged chair. She began to sit down herself and then stopped, having looked up to see Harry had not obeyed. For a short time she simply looked at him, and then her mouth turned upward into that saccharine sweet smile he knew masked her true hideous nature.

As if recalibrating herself she straightened up, clearing her throat as she faced him across the desk. She squared her shoulders and continued smiling, while he merely stared at her. Perhaps ten seconds passed in silence, and then she continued.

'Mr Potter. It has been brought to my attention that your delinquent behaviour has escalated most alarmingly.' She paused now, waiting for him to respond, and when he didn't she continued. 'That you have been duelling with members of the Inquisitorial Squad, select students who have been appointed to assist in overseeing behavioural supervision and disciplinarian tasks.'

Harry grit his teeth, and then decided to speak. 'Your puppets, you mean.'

Today was not a day for calculated silence. Instead, he was going to defend himself - he was done taking shit. He had held his tongue with Snape, and admirably restrained himself with Malfoy too…and now this rubbish?

Umbridge's smile twitched as his response, pleased that this time he would fight back. 'You caused significant damage to the second floor boy's lavatory, and serious injuries to Mr Nott. The wound on his arm is quite severe.'

'I'd expect so,' he said harshly. 'It was his own curse that rebounded and hit him.'

'Mr Nott will need to visit St Mungos for a consul-'

'It was his own curse! A curse meant for me.'

'Mr Potter! This behaviour i-'

'It was two against one,' he spoke over her. 'I didn't even have my wand when they started. And I'm not stupid, I know you're the one who put them up to it.'

Umbridge gaped at him, raising a hand to her chest as though hurt by his accusation. 'Mr Potter, that is an outrageous lie.'

She made quite a show of pretending to collect herself, and when her expression turned sweet again Harry looked at her in disgust, pleased nonetheless that he was getting a reaction out of her. By now he knew her all too well. The angrier she was the sweeter she became, at least until she reached her threshold. Harry could see that within her now, that just like him she was hiding her true fury behind an external facade. But while he was practically trembling in anger and trying not to clench his fists, she was becoming sweeter.

'It seems the many hours you have spent serving detentions are insufficient in deterring you from delinquent behaviour. I have tried and tried again to teach you, Mr Potter, not to tell lies. And yet your behaviour only worsens.' She cleared her throat, reaching down to her desk and straightening a scroll of parchment. 'Therefore it seems only fitting that your punishment be suitably scaled. I see fit to suspend you from Hogwarts.'

Harry couldn't help it - a burst of laughter slipped out, and he didn't try to stop it. Merlin, he would love nothing more than to be suspended and sent packing, but he'd never be so lucky as to have Dumbledore allow it.

'I'd like to see you try,' he goaded her. 'Really, I would.'

Umbridge's eyes bulged, and it was almost as if Harry saw the snap decision flash through her eyes, the very split-second he tipped her over the edge. His challenge to her authority was perhaps the greatest wound he could inflict.

'You are suspended from this school!' she shrieked, her shoulders heaving with her words. 'And I will be recommending the Minister for Magic formally expel you!'

Harry laughed at her again. 'Go right ahead,' he challenged, matching her volume. 'Try it!'

Ignoring her indignant shouting Harry turned on his heel and stormed out of her office, slamming the door as hard as he could. A nearby window rattled from the force of it, that and the sound of the shouting momentarily startled the three Inquisitorial Squad members who were still lurking in the corridor. His heart was positively thundering inside his chest, blood rushing through his ears.

He'd barely gone ten paces before Umbridge's office door swung open again. 'Stop him. Now!'

Upon hearing hurried footsteps Harry gestured behind himself, concentrating and mentally saying the words in his head - and then came the satisfying sound of the three students tripping over themselves with yells of surprise. He didn't bother looking back, and for the second time that day yanked his invisibility cloak out of his pocket and shrouded himself beneath it.

He was nearly forty minutes late for Transfiguration, yet as he walked the corridor towards McGonagall's classroom he did not hurry. He felt like a man condemned to death, knowing what awaited him without the opportunity to avoid it.

Over an hour had passed since he stormed out of Umbridge's office, it had taken that much time for him to calm down enough to return to class. He had been on the edge of marching down to McGonagall's office and demanding he be allowed to leave Hogwarts for good, just like Umbridge wanted. But instead he had wandered the castle under the security of his invisibility cloak, fully aware that Umbridge was probably after him with an even greater vengeance, that was unless McGonagall had already stepped in by now.

There was no particular place he was going, he just walked around to calm himself. He was far too aggravated to go to class, too aggrieved to sit there for ninety minutes while Ron and Hermione cast him worried looks and McGonagall watched him from the corner of her eye. Instead he spent his time alone talking himself down, mentally negotiating a way forward.

Whether he liked it or not he was stuck at Hogwarts, Dumbledore wouldn't let him leave without an exceptionally good reason. At the very least he would have liked to have called the day a loss by returning to his dormitory and staying there indefinitely. But he couldn't…he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't. He had Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon, and it would have felt like a personal insult to Hagrid were he to skip his class.

So he reached a middle ground, one which he could tolerate. He would go to Care of Magical Creatures and then he would make a retreat. He'd skip out on study period, Herbology and Astronomy. All in all not a bad trade off given the rubbish he'd put up with today. Merlin, his body was still aching from the curses he'd sustained from Malfoy, which although hadn't left a mark still left him sore and tender. That alone felt like justification for skipping out.

Were it not for what was going on Harry would have gladly skipped out on his double Transfiguration class too. But one way or another he'd have to speak to McGonagall, and it would be ten tines harder doing that if he had just blatantly truanted yet another of her classes. And so after talking himself off a metaphorical ledge he forced himself to go and just get the whole conversation over with.

Without knocking Harry entered McGonagall's classroom, hoping to slip in unnoticed, but he got his timing horribly wrong. The class were in the midst of taking down notes, and providing they were productive McGonagall tended to let them talk quietly, but the low hum of conversation did little to hide his arrival.

A few people looked up when they heard him enter, and then one by one the whole class followed suit. Embarrassed Harry averted his eyes and made his way to a desk near the back, one where he wouldn't be centre of attention. He sat down near Ernie and Hannah who both gave him a friendly smile, Ernie showing him the page of the textbook they were working from.

While Harry got settled he looked around for Ron and Hermione, who were sitting in their usual place on the far left of the classroom. As usual they both looked worried about him, Ron half standing as though he were trying to decide if he could risk getting in trouble. But that decision was made for him, because McGonagall was already on her way to see Harry. She swiftly made her way between the desks, telling the rest of the class to resume their work.

Harry braced himself, nervous about what she would say to him. But he needn't have been.

'Your homework please, Potter.'

Grateful he had gotten up early to complete it he handed her his scroll of parchment, watching from the corner of his eye as she quickly looked it over. He knew that she must be scrutinising him, that by now she would have heard about his duel with Malfoy and Umbridge's plan to suspend him, and possibly his row with Snape.

McGonagall rolled his parchment back into a scroll and then looked at him, and finally she spoke again. 'Chapter thirty three.'

It appeared she was letting him off the hook, at least for now. While he used what little time was left to catch up he began writing down some notes, only half managing to pay attention when McGonagall began demonstrating the subject of the lesson on an unlucky mouse. When it came to their turn at the practical aspects he struggled abysmally, but to his relief McGonagall made no direct criticism when she came by to review their progress.

When the period came to an end the bell rang to signal lunch, but no one made any move to pack up until McGonagall dismissed them. Already anticipating that he would be kept back Harry began to pack away his things, and when he looked up he found her at the front of the classroom watching him. She caught his eye and nodded, a short hand gesture indicating that she did indeed want him to stay behind.

While the rest of the class filed out Ron and Hermione lingered, hurriedly crossing the classroom towards him. But McGonagall wasn't having it. 'Off to lunch, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley,' she called, and it was not a suggestion.

Still they hesitated, but after receiving a reassuring nod from McGonagall they reluctantly left. Harry didn't watch them go. Keen for this to be finished with he slung his schoolbag over his shoulder and went to the front of the classroom where McGonagall was waiting. For a brief second she simply looked at him, her eyes flicking over his face while she scrutinised him, and then she gestured to the chair opposite her desk.

'Have a seat, Potter. There are matters we need to discuss.'

Dropping his bag onto the floor Harry sat down as instructed, feeling like he needed to avoid her eye. He looked at the chalkboard, studying a diagram as though it were of great interest to him.

'Details of the incident with Mr Malfoy and Mr Nott have been brought to my attention,' she began, talking in her usual brisk and stern tone. 'I'm confident that I have all pertinent details, and can assure you that I have spoken with the Headmistress. The incident warrants a thorough investigation. One in which I am sure will reflect you in a more positive light than it first seemed.'

Harry nodded slowly, understanding what she was getting at. McGonagall knew what happened, and why…and she had stepped in to fix it. Though he had expected all along that McGonagall wouldn't stand for this kind of injustice, hearing firsthand that she wouldn't allow him to be unjustly punished made him feel a great deal better.

'Thank you, Professor.'

McGonagall gently cleared her, and then she shuffled through some of the parchment on her desk before turning her attention back to him. Her tone changed now, speaking to him more gently than he'd ever heard from her before.

'I am aware of the immense pressure you are facing,' she began empathetically. 'And I am sympathetic. I hope you can agree that my fellow teachers and I have been flexible and understanding when you are late or absent from class. And at times when your work is not up to the usual standard we have come to expect from you.'

There was a pause, one that suggested she was waiting for his response. He looked her in the eye and nodded. 'Yes, Professor.'

McGonagall continued, her tone becoming a little more crisp and formal the more she spoke.

'I am afraid that unfortunately, our efforts to offer flexibility may not have benefitted you to the degree that I hoped they would. We now find ourselves facing the prospect that you are not adequately prepared to sit your O.W.L. exams in less than eleven weeks time.'

Harry furrowed his brow, looking at her blankly. Exams?

'For the majority of this year your grades have averaged between Exceeds Expectations and Acceptable,' she continued, gauging his reaction as she continued. 'However this term has seen a noticeable decline. It's my understanding that you received a D on some recent Potions work. As it stands you are not on track to achieve grades of a sufficient standard.'

When Harry said nothing she continued, though she made a renewed effort to again soften her tone.

'I would like to see you tomorrow morning during your study break to develop a plan for your remaining eleven weeks. I am more than confident in your capabilities, Potter, and have every expectation that with a plan in place your prospects will improve dramatically. You may like to start with this,' she added, setting a scroll of parchment in front of him.

Still in disbelief Harry picked up the scroll and looked at the homework he had only just submitted. He looked back at McGonagall, blinking at her. 'Are you joking?'

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. 'Have you ever known me to be a joker, Potter?'

'You must be.'

'I assure you, I am not,' she said lightly, holding his gaze unflinchingly. 'Nor am I suggesting that assistance won't be provided. We can also meet at your earliest convenience in order to-'

'What's wrong with it?' he demanded.

An uncomfortable pause came to pass, but Harry was undeterred. He stared at her expectantly, restraining himself with every ounce of control he possessed. This was Professor McGonagall…she was part of the Order, she had always treated him with fairness, but this was beyond belief.

'I will not accept this homework as it is,' she said plainly. 'I asked you to consider the properties of this unique transfiguration process, and to compare and contrast them to the properties of a standard counter-spell.'

'I've done that.'

'Simply listing the contrasting qualities of each is not sufficient. I've asked for your thoughts on the matter. Your criticisms and analysis.'

Harry clenched his jaw, already hearing blood rushing through his head. A multitude of responses were on the tip of his tongue, but none were anything he could allow himself to say. Thankfully McGonagall was still talking, consulting a copy of his timetable and suggesting a time in which she would schedule a remedial lesson for this particular piece of homework. He couldn't believe what she was saying. It was incomprehensible that this was even on her mind. Of all the things she could possibly do to help him right now, she chose homework?

He took a deep breath, doing everything he could to control himself. 'I'm not doing an extra class,' he said solidly, trying to hand his homework back to her. 'Mark it as is, please.'

She looked at him in annoyance, perturbed by his refusal. 'Potter, I am making this as if it were an OWL paper. You would barely scrape a Poor and that is due only to my sympathy for you.'

'I don't want your sympathy,' he said rudely, thrusting the homework at her again. 'Just mark it as is.'

He was desperate to get the hell out of there, and the moment she took the parchment from him he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, mind set on leaving. He needed to get the hell away from her right now. In the back of his mind was the thought of Sirius, the desperate need to talk to him before he really did lose it, but immediately when the thought occurred Harry knew that wasn't an option either. Sirius wouldn't help.

'We are not finished, Potter.'

Harry was already waking away, schoolbag slung over his shoulder, but at her words he came to a dead stop. He stood there clenching the strap of his schoolbag, absolutely seething, and then slowly he turned back and looked at McGonagall. He knew what was coming next…he just knew it.

McGonagall's chair scraped as she stood up, and she straightened her robes before coming around the desk towards him. She looked at him grimly, not relishing the subject of their conversation.

'It has also come to my attention that you have declined to attend remedial potions classes with Professor Snape. That is simply not acceptable.'

Harry glared at her. 'He's had a whinge to you, has he?'

'I am your Head of House,' she stated, her eyes narrowed at him over top her glasses. 'Now while I understand your difficult position, refusing to attend a remedial lesson set by your teacher is not acceptable. You will go to Professor Snape's class tonight, or I will have something to say about it.'

He was breathing hard as he tried to control himself, the hand on the strap of his schoolbag aching from how hard he had clenched it. It felt like walking on a knife's edge, about to wildly swing one way or another. Don't lose it…it doesn't help…it's never helped.

'You must know it's Occlumency, right?'

Confronted by his challenge, McGonagall's expression softened a little. But like him she was standing her ground. 'I am aware,' she admitted. 'And I can assure you that Professor Snape has heard your complaints. Tonight he will be proposing an alternate method that you might find more suitable.'

'I don't care what rubbish he's on about,' Harry snarled. 'I'm not doing it!'

'You must. Now, while I acknowledge that it's an uncomfortable experience-'

'Uncomfortable?'

'-its importance to you cannot be understated, especially after you witnessed the attack on Mr Weasley.' She paused now, looking him up and down. 'I do hope you haven't got some silly idea that this connection between yourself and You Know Who is useful to you?'

The word 'silly' rang through his head. The kind of word Umbridge had used against him so many times before, disparaging and ridiculing him. He watched as if from across the room as his last grip on control slipped through his fingers and he felt himself fade. In that split second he felt himself break, and he was powerless to stop as he lost himself entirely.

'You've got no idea what Snape's doing to me!' he shouted at McGonagall, his voice echoing around the enormous classroom. 'It's torture. He forces himself into my head, and I can't stop him!'

Relishing the surprised expression on McGonagall's face he went further, raising his voice and shouting over her attempt to speak.

'You know Snape tortured me, right? Actually tortured me with the Cruciatus. This is what else he did…'

Lifting the sleeve of his robes he thrust his hand and forearm out, making sure she could see the faded scars that were still as ugly as ever. McGonagall looked highly uncomfortable now, her lips pursed as she straightened her velvet robes. She looked at the scars but quickly averted her eyes.

'I was not aware of that.'

'I figured as much,' Harry snarled. 'I shouldn't have to be alone with someone who tortured me.'

McGonagall remained silent, collecting her thoughts after his outburst. 'I don't know what to say,' she admitted. 'Only that in Professor Dumbledore's absence, it is more imperative than ever that you master Occlumency for your own protection. And as it stands, Professor Snape is the only person the Headmaster trusts to teach you.'

'Then Dumbledore's full of it!' Harry shouted again, his voice becoming hoarse. 'I'm sick of putting up with his shit and just doing what he says. I'm sick of everything! I don't care anymore! I'm not -'

The sound of a loud smash startled him into silence. McGonagall whirled around to her desk where her hourglass lay in pieces, sand steadily pouring out onto the desk around pieces of jagged glass. After a moment of surprise McGonagall swiftly repaired the trinket, the sand that had been pooling on the desk soaring back into place. A second later it was as good as new.

Silence followed - an excruciating silence. Letting out a short breath Harry came to realise how badly he was shaking - how tightly his hands were clenched into fists. He took a step back from McGonagall, trying to catch his breath. Sense was coming over him now, allowing him to see what he had just done…

He tried to speak. Not to apologise, but to reassert his position that he was never returning to Occlumency. But he couldn't. His heart was racing, his lungs beginning to heave for breath. McGonagall was scrutinising him in concern, but he couldn't stand to be under her microscope. In a whirl of panic he snatched up his schoolbag from where he had dropped it and left.

McGonagall called out after him, but he ignored her. Instead he burst out of the classroom doors into the corridor beyond, now gasping for breath, head swirling as he strode along the corridor. He broke into a sprint, desperately feeling without knowing where he was going, and not caring either.

A/N Okay, we're there! Harry is ready to bail on the entire shit show, and the story will veer further away from OOTP. Thanks for sticking through the more difficult chapters, and really hope you enjoy the next phase of the story. As a treat I'll post the next chapter a little earlier than normal.

Please leave a review and let me know what you think, thanks again to all the readers who drop me a note, it really makes my day :-)