Chapter 11: Jason
Yesterday was an absolute fiasco, just going to a school of magic. The stinksap in the compartment. How we could see thestrals while others couldn't. The sorting. Umbridge's speech. Harry and Seamus' fued. How everyone thought that Harry was a nutter. Uhhh… it made my head hurt. I sprung out of bed to see Seamus simply run out of the room after he got his stuff. At this, Harry got quite angry.
"Does he think that he'll turn into a nutter if he stays in the same room as me for too long?" Harry asked, as Seamus ran out of the dorm.
"It's fine Harry, he'll come around." Percy whispered. Harry solemnly nodded and all of us started to put on our robes. It took a good ten minutes for Percy to put his on and it ended up with all of us laughing at him before he managed to finish. He smirked and ran down into the common room. I glanced at Frank and he shrugged like "We might as well" and we hurried down after him. Harry, Ron and Neville stayed up a bit longer. We just sat around waiting for Harry to come down and we looked through our books. Harry, Ron and Hermione finally came down five minutes later. We all stood up and headed across the common room to breakfast, until Hermione abruptly stopped. She was staring resolutely at the notice board, which was adorned with a large new sign.
GALLONS OF GALLEONS
Pocket money failing to keep up with outgoings?
Like to earn a little extra gold?
Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room, for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs.
(We regret to say that all work is undertaken at the applicant's own risk.)
"They are the limit." Hermione muttered, furiously. Ripping the sign off the notice board.
"We have to talk to them Ron." Ron looked positively alarmed, at the fact that he would have to confront his own brothers.
"Why?"
"Because we're prefects. It's our job to stop things like this from being a problem." She said as she walked out of the portrait hole and down a flight of stairs. She stared at Harry for a moment and said,
"What's wrong Harry? You look angry about something?"
"Seamus." I stated. "He thinks that Harry is lying about Voldemort." Ignoring Ron and Hermione's winces. Hermione composed herself and replied
"Oh. Lavender thinks so too." Harry glared at her and she quickly replied, "I told her to keep her fat mouth shut. Don't start glaring at me! In case you haven't noticed, Ron, and I are on your side. As well as the exchange students." Harry paused for a short while and then spoke,
"Sorry." He replied. We joined the Ravenclaws and followed them around. We peered around, looking for Annabeth and Leo. They finally emerged and Percy ran to kiss Annabeth. Leo, coolly walked away, not teasing them at all. Percy and Annabeth walked down, arm in arm while Leo grabbed Frank and I around the shoulders.
"Percy and Annabeth are walking arm in arm, so I might as well try to copy her." He slyly said, grinning. Frank and I both sighed and walked into the Great Hall. Leo waved us off and ran to sit with the Ravenclaws, I marched to the Hufflepuff table along with Frank, to look for our girlfriends. I waved at Piper and Hazel and they walked up to us. I gave Piper a good morning kiss and she grinned,
"How was the common room?"
"It was quite comfortable, we're all the way up at the top, so the view is excellent."
"We're down near the kitchens, it's very cosy there." Just then her stomach rumbled. She blushed and walked off to the table to get some food. Hazel and Frank also separated and both of us sat down at the Gryffindor table. Percy was walking past with Annabeth and they both separated. Percy joined us, grinning and we began to dig in. A black haired girl approaches us and begins to talk to Harry.
"Listen, Harry, I've been made Quidditch captain."
"Nice one Angelina." Harry replied, grinning at her.
"Yeah well, Now that Oliver has left, we need a new keeper and Alicia has been injured and she can't play no matter what. She's leaving next year aswell. We need to try find a replacement. Tryouts are on Friday, Five O'Clock and I want two people who will fit well with the whole team.
"Ok. I will be there Angelina." She smiled and walked off. "Any of you trying out for the team?" He whispered.
"I am, but Percy and Frank aren't, they didn't get brooms because they didn't want to do it." Harry nodded and whispered,
"Good luck getting on the team Jason." We both dug into the remainder of our food until we heard the swoosh of hundreds of owls descending into the Great Hall. They clattered all the parcels and shook water all over the students. Some fell on Percy and he wasn't wet at first, but he reminded himself to get wet and water sloshed over his head. Hermione again gave him a calculating look and then returned to get her paper, from her owl.
"What are you still getting that for?" Harry irritably asked.
"It's best to know what the enemy is saying." She replied. She didn't emerge from her newspaper until all of us had finished and she finally told us.
"Nothing. Nothing about you or Dumbledore." Hermione was interrupted by McGonagall handing out timetables. I read the timetable.
Period 1: History of Magic: Professor Binns.
Period 2: Potions: Professor Snape
Period 3: Potions: Professor Snape
Period 4: Divination: Professor Trelawny
Period 5: Defence against the Dark Arts: Professor Umbridge
Period 6: Defence against the Dark Arts: Professor Umbridge
Ron read it and groaned.
"History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defence agasinst the Dark Arts. Binns, Snape, Trelawny and that Umbridge woman in one day. I wish Fred and George would hurry up with those skiving snackboxes."
"Do my ears deceive me?" Fred said as he appeared around the corner. "Does ickle Ronniekins, the prefect wish to skive off lessons?
"Look at the Monday we've got. It's the worst I've ever seen," he said shoving the timetable under Fred's nose.
"Fair point, Ron. That is a terrible Monday. If you want you can have some Nosebleed Nougat cheap."
"Why is it cheap?"
"Because you'll keep bleeding until you shrivel up, and we haven't found the antidote." George said.
"Thanks, but I'll just take the lessons instead." Ron said, depressingly.
"We've got the exact same table Ron!" I exclaimed. We swapped and he looked up, grinning.
"Yeah! This is going to be a fun day!" He shouted.
"Ron, don't keep up that attitude, fifth year is OWL year."
"So?" Ron replied.
"You've got exams coming up, you'll be scraped raw from all the studying you have to do. Half our year even had breakdowns before the exams," said Fred happily.
"Fred and I managed to stay sane though." George replied.
"Yeah… but you got like what? Three OWLS?"
"Yup, but we feel our futures lie outside the world of Academic Achievements." Fred said, happily, before slinking off to eat breakfast.
"Guys? We need to head off to lessons." Frank shouted. Percy and I stood up, shortly before the Golden Trio. We walked off to the History of Magic classroom. We met up with the rest of the seven and headed into the classroom, sitting with each other at the back. History of Magic, as it turns out, was probably the most dull subject, ever thought of by wizard kind. Annabeth, Leo, and Hermione seemed the only ones who could resist Professor Binns wheezy, droning voice. Occasionally, I managed to come out of my sleep, writing down a date or a note at some random points. An hour and a half of Binns droning on about Giant Wars was absolute torture. Percy was getting shot filthy looks by Annabeth, who had managed to take a lot of notes, along with Leo. Frank and Hazel were basically passed out. Ron and Harry were playing hangman and Piper was conked out on my shoulder. After what seemed an age, he finally stopped droning and the class came back to life. Ron, Hermione and Harry were arguing and walked out of the classroom before us. The seven of us, just followed the pack as we stepped into the damp courtyard. The Golden Trio were talking with Cho Chang, who, according to Annabeth, had a thing for Harry. She walked away after a while and Hermione resumed her shouting at Ron as we descended into the dungeons, ready for Potions. The ten of us lined up outside Snape's classroom and we were ushered in by a bat-like man, with a hawk-like nose. The ten of us occupied three tables at the back and were interrupted by Snape, addressing the class.
"Settle down." He said, coldly. I felt a rush of dislike towards this professor.
'Before we begin today's lesson,' said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, 'I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an "Acceptable" in your OWL, or suffer my ... displeasure.'
His gaze lingered this time on Neville, who gulped.
'After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me,' Snape went on. 'I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye.'
His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back, trying to not blink. Snape slowly turned away, again, addressing the class.
'But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell,' said Snape softly, 'so, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students. As for you American students, just because you are new at Hogwarts and may be terrible, don't expect any leniency.' He said, his gaze resting now on Percy. Percy glared at him and Snape averted his eyes.
'Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing.' Annabeth straightened, and listened to Snape with rapt attention.
The ingredients and method-' Snape flicked his wand '-are on the blackboard-(they appeared there) '-you will find everything you need-' he flicked his wand again '-in the store cupboard-' (the door of the said cupboard sprang open) '-you have an hour and a half ... start.'
Snape had set them an extremely difficult potion. All the ingredients had to be added with the right quantities. The mixture had to be stirred a specific amount of times; and the heat of the flames that the potion was simmering on, had to be lowered to the exact level for a specific amount of time, before the final ingredients were added.
"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion." Snape called, with ten minutes left. I looked around the room, my potion was issuing copious amounts of dark gray steam. Piper's solution was purple, while Hazel and Frank's were both dark green. Ron's was spitting green sparks. Leo's was a dark blue. However, Annabeth, Percy and Hermione's was shimmering with light, silver vapour. Ron swept past theirs, without comment, meaning that there was nothing wrong. His lip curled at Frank and Hazel's potion. He glared and Piper and mine. However, at Harry's he paused and asked.
"Potter, what is this supposed to be?" Harry gritted his teeth and responded,
"The Draught of Peace."
"Tell me, Potter, can you read?"
"Yes, professor."
"Read the third line of instructions for me Potter." Harry read them, but his face remained impassive.
"Did you do everything on the third line?"
"No. I forgot the hellebore."
"I know you did, Potter, so this is worthless. Evanesco."
The contents of Harry's potion vanished and Snape walked back to the front.
"Those of you, who read the instructions, fill one flagon of the potion, and label it. Bring it up to my desk for marking. Homework is, twelve inches on the uses of moonstone in potion-making, to be handed in on Tuesday. Everyone filled their flagons and walked up to the front. We waited until the bell rang and we made for the door. We all rushed to the great hall, and we all ate Lunch with gusto. We finished quickly and hurried to the North Tower for Divination. Harry was already there and Ron made his way over to him. The tables were set for two and we divided. Percy and Annabeth. Piper and Me. Hazel and Frank. Ron and Harry. Leo, paired up with some random Ravenclaw.
"Good-day class." A mystical voice said. "Welcome American Students, and welcome back to Divination to older students.
"You will find on your tables, copies of the Dream Oracle, by Inigo Imago.Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and one that may very probably be tested in your OWL. Not, of course, that I believe examination passes or failures are of the remotest importance when it comes to the sacred art of divination. If you have the Seeing Eye, certificates and grades matter very little. However, the Headmaster likes you to sit the examination, so ..."
Her voice trailed away delicately, leaving them all in no doubt that Professor Trelawney considered her subject above such sordid matters as examinations. The seven of us were suppressing laughs. Trelawny, was obviously a fake, nothing like Rachel back at Camp.
"Turn, please, to the introduction and read what Imago has to say on the matter of dream interpretation. Then, divide into pairs. Use The Dream Oracle to interpret each other's most recent dreams. Carry on."
We carried on willy-nilly, interpreting each other's dreams while Trelawny walked around advising each of us. She stopped when she got to Percy and Annabeth. She took a deep, rasping breath and carried, on, as if in a Trance.
You shall go west, and face the god who has turned,
You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned,
You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend,
And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end. She drew a raspy breath then continued.
You shall sail the iron ship with warriors of bone,
You shall find what you seek and make it your own,
But despair for your life entombed within stone,
And fail without friends, to fly home alone
Five shall go west to the goddess in chains,
One shall be lost in the land without rain,
The bane of Olympus shows the trail,
Campers and Hunters combined prevail,
The Titan's curse must one withstand,
And one shall perish by a parent's hand.
You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze,
The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise.
You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand,
The Child of Athena's final stand.
Destroy with a hero's final breath,
And lose a love to worse than death.
A Half-Blood of the eldest gods,
Shall reach sixteen against all odds,
And see the world in endless sleep.
The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap,
A single choice shall end his days,
Olympus to preserve or raze.
Child of Lightning, beware the earth,
The giants' revenge the seven shall birth,
The forge and dove shall break the cage,
And death unleash, through Hera's rage
"Go to Alaska.
Find Thanatos and free him.
Come back by sundown on June twenty-fourth or die."
"To the north, beyond the gods, lies the legion's crown.
Falling from ice, the son of Neptune shall drown."
"Wisdom's daughter walks alone,
The Mark of Athena burns through Rome.
Twins snuff out the angel's breath,
Who holds the key to endless death.
Giants' bane stands gold and pale,
Won through pain from a woven jail."
Seven half-bloods shall answer the call.
To storm or fire, the world must fall.
An oath to keep with a final breath,
And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death.
All of us were stumped. We gazed at Trelawny in shock and horror. She had recited every prophecy. The First, second, third and fourth quest that Percy had been on. The first great prophecy. The child of lightning one. The Alaska quest one. The son of Neptune one. The Mark of Athena one. Even the second great prophecy. The wizards were staring at Trelawny with confusion. But, the demigods, were extremely worried. Trelawny, choked and spluttered, coming out of her trance. She gazed around at us and replied
"What are you all staring at? I just started day-dreaming." We all kept quiet and left the tower as soon as we could. We huddled into a corner and decided to talk about what happened. Annabeth broke the silence.
"Guys, Trelawny spoke every prophecy, like every one that each of us had been a part of."
"Anyone else think that she's a fraud?" Piper asked Everyone else shook their head.
"We need to tread carefully, what if she somehow spills who we really are?" Percy asked.
"We also need to think about the possibility, that she might predict something about this." Annabeth reasoned. We were about to discuss further when Harry barged in.
"Guys! We need to get to Defence Against the Dark Arts." When we were walking down, Ron and Harry grumbled to us.
"You do realise how much homework we already got. Binns set us a foot-and-a-half-long essay, Snape wants a foot on Moonstones, and we just got a month's dream oracle from Trelawny. Fred and George weren't kidding about OWL year, were they? Umbridge better not give us any." Ron reasoned.
"When we all entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, we found Umbridge, already seated at the teacher's desk. She was wearing the exact same fluffy pink cardigan of the night before. She even had a purple bow on. This gave her the appearance of an extremely flabby toad.
The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.
'Well, good afternoon!' she said, when finally the whole class had sat down.
A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply.
'Tut, tut,' said Professor Umbridge. 'That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge". One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!'
'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,' they chanted back at her.
'There, now,' said Professor Umbridge sweetly. That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.'
Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. I stuffed my wand back into my pocket. I gloomily looked up, I was looking forward to using a lot of magic. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:
Defence Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
'Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?' stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. 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 OWL 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 rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:
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.
For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked, 'Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?'
There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.
'I think we'll try that again,' said Professor Umbridge. '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,' rang through the room. I felt my dislike of her to rise.
'Good,' said Professor Umbridge. 'I should like you to turn to page five and read "Chapter One, Basics for Beginners". There will be no need to talk.'
Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. I turned to page five of his copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read.
It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. I felt my concentration sliding away from me; I had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several silent minutes passed. Next to him, Percy was absent-mindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. I looked right and received a surprise to shake him out of his torpor. Hermione and Annabeth had both not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. Annabeth, who never passed up the opportunity to read was staring resolutely at Umbridge, along with Hermione.
I looked at Annabeth enquiringly, but she merely shook her head slightly to indicate that she was not about to answer questions, and continued to stare at Professor Umbridge, who was looking just as resolutely in another direction. Percy also stared at her with an expression of shock. Annabeth never passed up the chance to not read.
After a few minutes, I was not the only one watching Hermione and Annabeth.. The chapter they had been instructed to read was so tedious that more and more people were choosing to watch their mute attempt to catch Professor Umbridge's eye rather than struggle on with 'Basics for Beginners'.
When more than half the class were staring at them rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.
'Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?' she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.
'Not about the chapter, no,' said Hermione.
'Well, we're reading just now,' said Professor Umbridge, showing her small 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,' said Hermione.
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.
'And your name is?'
'Hermione Granger,' said Hermione.
'Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully,' said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.
'Well, I don't,' said Hermione bluntly. 'There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells.'
There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard. Annabeth's hand was still in the air.
'Using defensive spells?' Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. '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?'
'We're not going to use magic?' Annabeth exclaimed loudly.
'Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Miss.-?'
'Chase.' Annabeth replied.
Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on her. Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione.
'Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?'
'Yes,' said Hermione. 'Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?'
'Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?' asked Professor Umbridge, in her falsely sweet voice.
'No, but-'
'Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the "whole point" of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-'
'What use is that?' said Harry loudly. 'If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a-'
'Hand, Mr Potter!' sang Professor Umbridge.
Harry thrust his fist in the air. Again, Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him, but now several other people had their hands up, too.
'And your name is?' Professor Umbridge said to Percy.
'Percy Jackson.'
'Well, Mr Jackson?'
'Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?' said Percy. 'If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free.'
'I repeat,' said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Percy, 'do you expect to be attacked during my classes?'
'No, but-'
Professor Umbridge talked over him. 'I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school,' she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, 'but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed-not to mention,' she gave a nasty little laugh, 'extremely dangerous half-breeds.'
'If you mean Professor Lupin,' piped up Dean angrily, 'he was the best we ever-
'Hand, Mr Thomas! 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,' Hermione said, 'we just-'
'Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!'
Hermione put up her hand. Professor Umbridge turned away from her.
'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?' said Dean hotly. 'Mind you, we still learned loads.'
'Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!' trilled Professor Umbridge. '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?' she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.
'Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL? 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 examination conditions,' said Professor Umbridge dismissively.
'Without ever practising them beforehand?' said Parvati incredulously. 'Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?'
'I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough-'
'And what good's theory going to be in the real world?' said Harry loudly, his fist in the air again.
Professor Umbridge looked up.
'This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world,' she said softly.
'So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?'
'There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter.'
'Oh, yeah?' said Harry. His temper, which seemed to have been bubbling just beneath the surface all day, was reaching boiling point.
'Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?' enquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.
'Hmm, let's think ...' said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice. 'Maybe ... Lord Voldemort?'
Ron gasped; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch, along with the demigods. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.
'Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter.'
The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry.
'Now, let me make a few things quite plain.'
Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned towards them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk.
'You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead-'
'He wasn't dead,' said Harry angrily, 'but yeah, he's returned!'
'Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself,' said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. 'As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie.'
'It is NOT a lie!' said Harry. 'I saw him, I fought him!'
'Detention, Mr Potter!' said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. 'Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a Ministry of Magic 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".'
Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk. Harry, however, stood up. Everyone was staring at him; Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated.
'Harry, no!' Hermione whispered in a warning voice, tugging at his sleeve, but Harry jerked his arm out of her reach.
'So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?' Harry asked, his voice shaking.
There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night Cedric had died. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.
'Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident,' she said coldly.
'It was murder,' said Harry. He could feel himself shaking. He had hardly spoken to anyone about this, least of all thirty eagerly listening classmates. 'Voldemort killed him and you know it.'
Professor Umbridge's face was quite blank. For a moment, Harry thought she was going to scream at him. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, 'Come here, Mr. Potter, dear.'
He kicked his chair aside, strode around Ron and Hermione and up to the teacher's desk. He could feel the rest of the class holding its breath. He felt so angry he did not care what happened next.
Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and started scribbling, hunched over so that Harry could not see what she was writing. Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that he could not open it.
'Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear,' said Professor Umbridge, holding out the note to him.
He took it from her without saying a word, turned on his heel and left the room, not even looking back at Ron and Hermione, slamming the classroom door shut behind him.
Harry:
I walked very fast along the corridor, the note to McGonagall clutched tight in my hand, and turning a corner walked slap into Peeves the poltergeist, a wide-mouthed little man floating on his back in midair, juggling several inkwells.
'Why, it's Potty Wee Potter!' cackled Peeves, allowing two of the inkwells to fall to the ground where they smashed and spattered the walls with ink; Harry jumped backwards out of the way with a snarl.
'Get out of it, Peeves.'
'Oooh, Crackpot's feeling cranky,' said Peeves, pursuing me along the corridor, leering as he zoomed along above him. 'What is it this time, my fine Potty friend? Hearing voices? Seeing visions? Speaking in-' Peeves blew a gigantic raspberry '- tongues?'
'I said, leave me ALONE!' I shouted, running down the nearest flight of stairs, but Peeves merely slid down the banister on his back beside him.
'Oh, most think he's barking, the potty wee lad,
But some are more kindly and think he's just sad,
But Peevesy knows better and says that he's mad-'
'SHUT UP!'
A door to his left flew open and Professor McGonagall emerged from her office looking grim and slightly harassed.
'What on earth are you shouting about, Potter?' she snapped, as Peeves cackled gleefully and zoomed out of sight. 'Why aren't you in class?'
'I've been sent to see you,' I said, stiffly.
'Sent? What do you mean, sent?'
I held out the note from Professor Umbridge. Professor McGonagall took it from him, frowning, slit it open with a tap of her wand, stretched it out and began to read. Her eyes zoomed from side to side behind their square spectacles as she read what Umbridge had written, and with each line they became narrower.
'Come in here, Potter.'
I followed her inside her study. The door closed automatically behind me.
'Well?' said Professor McGonagall, rounding on him. 'Is this true?'
'Is what true?' I asked, rather more aggressively than he had intended. 'Professor?' I added, in an attempt to sound more polite.
'Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umbridge?'
'Yes.'
'You called her a liar?'
'Yes.'
'You told her He Who Must Not Be Named is back?'
'Yes.'
Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk, watching me closely. Then she said, 'Have a biscuit, Potter.'
'Have-what?'
'Have a biscuit,' she repeated impatiently, indicating a tartan tin lying on top of one of the piles of papers on her desk. 'And sit down.'
There had been a previous occasion when I, expecting to be caned by Professor McGonagall, had instead been appointed by her to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He sank into a chair opposite her and helped himself to a Ginger Newt, feeling just as confused and wrong-footed as he had done on that occasion.
Professor McGonagall set down Professor Umbridge's note and looked very seriously at me.
'Potter, you need to be careful.'
I swallowed his mouthful of Ginger Newt and stared at her. Her tone of voice was not at all what I was used to; it was not brisk, crisp and stern; it was low and anxious and somehow much more human than usual.
'Misbehaviour in Dolores Umbridge's class could cost you much more than house points and a detention.'
'What do you-?'
'Potter, use your common sense,' snapped Professor McGonagall, with an abrupt return to her usual manner. 'You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting.'
The bell rang for the end of the lesson. Overhead and all around came the elephantine sounds of hundreds of students on the move.
'It says here she's given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow,' Professor McGonagall said, looking down at Umbridge's note again.
'Every evening this week!' I repeated, horrified. 'But, Professor, couldn't you-?'
'No, I couldn't,' said Professor McGonagall flatly.
'But-'
'She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will go to her room at five o'clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember: tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge.'
'But I was telling the truth!' I said, outraged. 'Voldemort is back, you know he is; Professor Dumbledore knows he is-'
'For heaven's sake, Potter!' said Professor McGonagall, straightening her glasses angrily (she had winced horribly when he had used Voldemort's name). 'Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It's about keeping your head down and your temper under control!'
She stood up, nostrils wide and mouth very thin, and I stood up, too.
'Have another biscuit,' she said irritably, thrusting the tin at me.
'No, thanks,' I said coldly.
'Don't be ridiculous,' she snapped.
I took one.
'Thanks,' I said grudgingly.
'Didn't you listen to Dolores Umbridge's speech at the start-of-term feast, Potter?'
'Yeah,' I replied. 'Yeah ... she said ... progress will be prohibited or ... well, it meant that ... that the Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Hogwarts.'
Professor McGonagall eyed me closely for a moment, then sniffed, walked around her desk and held open the door for me.
'Well, I'm glad you listen to Hermione Granger at any rate,' she said, pointing me out of her office.
Dinner in the Great Hall that night was not a pleasant experience for me. The news about his shouting match with Umbridge had travelled exceptionally fast even by Hogwarts' standards. I heard whispers all around him as he sat eating between Ron and Hermione. The Americans were helping magnificently. They gave death glares at anyone who was whispering and pointing at me. The funny thing was that none of the whisperers seemed to mind him overhearing what they were saying about me. On the contrary, it was as though they were hoping I would get angry and finish my story.
'He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered ...'
'He reckons he duelled with You-Know-Who ...'
'Come off it ...'
'Who does he think he's kidding?'
'Pur-lease ...'
'What I don't get,' I said through clenched teeth, laying down his knife and fork (his hands were shaking too much to hold them steady), 'is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them ...'
"You told them last year?" Said Percy quizzingly.
"Yeah. Dumbledore told the school, but they believed him then. I don't know why no one believes me now."
'The thing is, Harry, I'm not sure they did,' said Hermione grimly. 'Oh, let's get out of here.'
'Thanks for your help guys, you lessened the muttering.' She gave them an appreciative smile, which they returned.
She slammed down her own knife and fork; Ron looked longingly at his half-finished apple pie but followed suit. People stared at them all the way out of the Hall.
'What d'you mean, you're not sure they believed Dumbledore?' I asked Hermione when we reached the first-floor landing.
'Look, you don't understand what it was like after it happened,' said Hermione quietly. 'You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body ... none of us saw what what happened in the maze ... we just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you.'
'Which is the truth!' said I, loudly.
'I know it is, Harry, so will you please stop biting my head off?' said Hermione wearily. 'It's just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase and Dumbledore's going senile!'
Rain pounded on the windowpanes as they strode along the empty corridors back to Gryffindor Tower. I felt as though my first day had lasted a week, but I still had a mountain of homework to do before bed. A dull pounding pain was developing over his right eye. He glanced out of a rain-washed window at the dark grounds as they turned into the Fat Lady's corridor. There was still no light in Hagrid's cabin.
'Mimbulus mimbletonia,' said Hermione, before the Fat Lady could ask. The portrait swung open to reveal the hole behind it and the three of them scrambled through it.
The common room was almost empty; nearly everyone was still down at dinner. Crookshanks uncoiled himself from an armchair and trotted to meet them, purring loudly, and when Me, Ron and Hermione took their three favourite chairs at the fireside he leapt lightly on to Hermione's lap and curled up there like a furry ginger cushion. Harry gazed into the flames, feeling drained and exhausted.
'How can Dumbledore have let this happen?' Hermione cried suddenly, making me and Ron jump; Crookshanks leapt off her, looking affronted. She pounded the arms of her chair in fury, so that bits of stuffing leaked out of the holes. 'How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our OWL year, too!'
'Well, we've never had great Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we?' said Ron. 'You know what it's like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job; they say it's jinxed.'
'Yes, but to employ someone who's actually refusing to let us do magic! What's Dumbledore playing at?'
'And she's trying to get people to spy for her,' said Ron darkly.
'Remember when she said she wanted us to come and tell her if we hear anyone saying You-Know-Who's back?'
'Of course she's here to spy on us all, that's obvious, why else would Fudge have wanted her to come?' snapped Hermione.
'Don't start arguing again,' said I, wearily, as Ron opened his mouth to retaliate. 'Can't we just... let's just do that homework, get it out of the way...'
We collected our schoolbags from a corner and returned to the chairs by the fire. People were coming back from dinner now. Harry kept his face averted from the portrait hole, but could still sense the stares he was attracting.
'Shall we do Snape's stuff first?' said Ron, dipping his quill into his ink. '"The properties... of moonstone... and its uses ... in potion-making..."' he muttered, writing the words across the top of his parchment as he spoke them. 'There.' He underlined the title, then looked up expectantly at Hermione. He was about to say something before The Americans, like all the Americans came in. Looking grim.
"The muttering is all about whether or not Voldemort is back." Frank said.
"No one believes you, at least none that we talked to." Percy said. I huffed and waved them down.
"Come on, let's do some homework together. We all had the same classes so we decided to all do Potions.
'So, what are the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making?' Ron asked.
"Moonstone (also known as the wishing stone) is a gemstone of medium value. Moonstones are a milky colour and shine very brightly, almost as though they are a source of their own light. They are a useful potion ingredient; powdered moonstones are used as an ingredient for the Draught of Peace and in several Love Potions. Percy chanted." Everyone stared at him as if they weren't used to him giving answers. "What? I like potions," he chuckled. We spent the next part of one and a half hours doing the essay. I needed another inch, but I just copied Hermione. All the Americans copied off Percy, except Annabeth, who did fine on her own. None of us did the giant essay, but the Americans decided to go to bed. Piper, Hazel, Annabeth, and Leo left through the portrait hole. I put my books away, but Hermione however, did something very weird.
She wrenched her bag open; I thought she was about to put her books away, but instead she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects, placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace, covered them with a few screwed-up bits of parchment and a broken quill and stood back to admire the effect.
'What in the name of Merlin are you doing?' said Ron, watching her as though fearful for her sanity.
'They're hats for house-elves,' she said briskly now stuffing her books back into her bag. 'I did them over the summer. I'm a really slow knitter without magic but now I'm back at school I should be able to make lots more.'
'You're leaving out hats for the house-elves?' said Ron slowly. 'And you're covering them up with rubbish first?'
'Yes,' said Hermione defiantly, swinging her bag on to her back.
That's not on,' said Ron angrily. 'You're trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You're setting them free when they might not want to be free.'
'Of course they want to be free!' said Hermione at once, though her face was turning pink. 'Don't you dare touch those hats, Ron!'
She turned on her heel and left. Ron waited until she had disappeared through the door to the girls' dormitories, then cleared the rubbish off the woolly hats.
'They should at least see what they're picking up,' he said firmly. 'Anyway ...' he rolled up the parchment on which he had written the title of Binn's essay. 'There's no point trying to finish this now, I can't do it without Hermione, I haven't got a clue what you're supposed to do with giant wars? Have you.'
I shook my head, noticing as I did so that the ache in my right temple was getting worse. I thought of the long essay on giant wars and the pain stabbed at me sharply. Knowing perfectly well that when the morning came, I would regret not finishing his homework that night, I piled my books back into my bag.
'I'm going to bed.'
I passed Seamus on the way to the door leading to the dormitories, but did not look at him. I had a fleeting impression that Seamus had opened his mouth to speak, but I sped up and reached the soothing peace of the stone spiral staircase without having to endure any more provocation. The Americans had already passed out. I crawled into my bed, fully dressed and passed out aswell. My last though being how much work we were going to have to do.
Chapter 11 Done. I don't think that the update for Chapter 10 went through, so I urge you to go back and read it if this chapter seems a bit random. It was the sorting last time, this chapter will make a lot more sense. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it. Please review, your opinions mean a lot to me. The prophecy bit was quite fun to write as well. You'll see some more prophecies coming through as well.
~Red Gods