Here's the fifth part of Lupus Cor. If you like it, hate it, have a question about it, let me know. I enjoy getting reviews on my work, but please do not post anything that is similar to "I NEEDS YOU TO POST A CHAPTER NOW!" or "I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR A NEW CHAPTER FOR AGES!" Not only is it annoying, but it makes me feel rushed. . . But if you have any comments and/or questions for this story, please don't hesitate to comment. I'm generally a nice guy and I don't bite. :)

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The wind whistled through my spiky dark brown hair. My sneakers made thunk sounds when they touched the ground. Mud puddles scattered into multiple little ones when I raced through them. The bottoms of my jeans were soaked from the rain water. The earth smelled moist and delicious, making my nostrils twitch. A large rock loomed out of the trees. I kicked down hard with my right foot and bounced over the boulder. Midleap, I tucked my body into the fetal position and somersaulted to my feet when I touched the ground. The back of shirt stuck to my body, having been drenched by my roll.

The thestrals looked up from their grazing on a dead animal when I passed them. They snorted, whether in amusement or annoyance I'll never know. A young colt raced beside me for a few strides before its mother called it back with a low-pitched whinny.

I dodged trees and jumped over creeks, making my way back to the school grounds. A part of me knew I should not be running through the Forbidden Forest, but the other part willed me to get lost in the trees. I could scent the lake a few seconds before it came into view. It was as calm and dark as the night sky, only broken by the occasion leaping fish. I followed the edge of the water, charging through the tall grasses, until the trees began to thin. A stitch seared my ribs as if someone was applying a hot brand to my body; I slowed to a walk and gripped the painful spot. With my other hand, I wiped away the sweat that had beaded on and ran down my face.

"Hey, Talis!"

I blinked and looked toward tall oak tree where I had hung my cloak. Harry Potter was standing there with it draped over his arm. Even from fifty yards away I could see that he was in pain and the scent of blood was strong. I guess he had not asked Hermione for the potion I had recommended.

"What are you doing up so early?" I asked when I was within talking distance. "Aren't students supposed to be sleeping in on Saturday mornings?"

Harry shrugged his scrawny shoulders. "I couldn't sleep, so what's the point of sleeping in?" He glanced at his right hand. "I had another detention with Umbridge last night." Emerald eyes looked up at me. "Why does the Minister allow her to do this? Isn't it abuse?"

"To her, it's not abuse; it's discipline, and, unfortunately, that's how the Minister sees it." I took my cloak from him and draped it over my shoulders. Now that I wasn't running my blood was starting to cool and goosepimples rose on my arms. "But whether the Minister knows if she has that quill or not is a mystery to me. You didn't talk to Hermione," I added, narrowing my eyes.

"No, I didn't."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Damn it, Harry."

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because you're a student. And you're young; you're only fifteen." Four years younger than myself. "I don't like seeing students hurt, unless it's a Slytherin who deserved it." I leaned against the oak tree, relishing the feel of the rough bark on my sweaty, itchy back. "Hermione would make that potion for you without a second thought."

"She'd tell me to go to Dumbeldore."

"I don't know if Dumbledore can do anything about it." I looked down into those green eyes. "The Ministry has been hounding Dumbledore since before I was Sorted into Gryffindor. If he starts making assumptions and trys turning in Umbridge, the Ministry will think Dumbledore is hiding something. Then we'll have to deal with other Ministry members, alongside Umbridge. They will take total control of the school."

Harry looked thoughtful for a few moments, his brow furrowed and arms crossed over his chest. I knew he was thinking over what I just said. "Will the teachers be replaced with Ministry-approved teachers?"

I shrugged. "You tell me. They've already appointed Umbridge as the Dark Arts teacher." I rubbed my shoulders against the tree and breathed a sigh through my nose. "And she's not even going to teach you about the Dark creatures that you may run into some day."

"Lupin taught us about some of them."

A smile played with my mouth. "Lupin was another of my favorite teachers. I didn't care that he was a werewolf. It made things more interesting."

"You didn't care that he was a werewolf?" Harry sounded like he couldn't believe it.

"Hell no. If I had been Headmaster, I would have kept him here until he decided he had enough of teaching you brats." I ruffled my hair then wiped my hand on my jeans. "How have your studies been going?" I don't know what possessed me to ask him such a personal question, but it slipped out before I could stop it. I was kind of surprised when he actually answered me.

"They're not going so well."

I slid down the tree, almost moaning as the bark rubbed against the right parts of my back, and sat down on the ground. The grass was a bit damp but it was tolerable. I patted the space next to me, and Harry sat down, much to my amazement. "Why are they not going well?"

Harry pulled his knees to his chest. To me it seemed like he was trying to make himself smaller, as if he could hide from his problems by curling into a ball. "Those detentions with Umbridge. . . They ate up my time. I have yet to accomplish the Vanishing spell. Trelawny's having us do some kind of dream journal, which is completely bogus. Snape's being a dung-eating asshole like usual." He released a sigh. "I don't know how I can do it all. Plus, Angelina is barking at me because I could not make it to the Keeper tryouts."

I stretched my arms over my head to pop my shoulder blades. "Anything else?"

"You. . . kissed my hand the other night. Why?"

My shoulders made sharp popping sounds, and I lowered my arms. "There's not much to do about your homework." I decided to wait to address the last bit. "I can help you with the Vanishing spell, or Hermione can. I hear she is doing very well. For Trelawny. . . just make up shit. That's what I did when I took her class; I passed with flying colors. That and I mentioned death every other day; she eats it up. With Snape, just keep youur head high and pay attention. You never know if you're going to have to make one of the potions, or even an antidote to a poison, in your future." I paused and breathed in the cool morning air. "I heard Ron got the position of Keeper." A small smile played on my lips. "Tell him I wish him the best of luck." I lifted my knees off the ground; my jeans were clinging to my skin. "There's some good news for you though, Harry. You're done with your detentions with Umbridge."

Harry held out his injured hand and looked at it. The cut were healed but the scars shone silvery in the morning light. The words "I must not tell lies" were clearly visible. I reached out and gently took his hand. My fingers coiled around his, and I carefully pulled his hand close to my face.

"Not very creative, is she?" I muttered, only half-joking. "Couldn't she have picked something cooler? "I am being scarred by a psycho toad" seems better to me." I raised his hand to my lips and kissed the scars. Like last night, Harry didn't pull away. I could feel his emerald eyes burning holes into the side of my head. There was no hostility, just guarded curiousity. "I kissed your hand because. . ." I brushed my lips against his scars again. "I did it because I wanted to."

Harry didn't move. His eyes were still locked onto me, as if trying to figure out something to say. After a few seconds he found his tongue. "I'm not gay, Talis." His voice was just above a whisper.

"I know you're not," I murmured, releasing his hand almost reluctantly. Something in me wanted to keep holding his hand. But I forced it down. "You probably never will be, and I respect that." With a low grunt, I pushed myself to my feet. My cloak swished around my sneakers. There was a shuffling beside me. I looked over at the younger teenager. "I'll see you later." I stepped away from the tree, but something grabbed my cloak, stopping me from moving any further.

"Wait."

I breathed a sigh through my nose but I refused to look at him. "Yes?"

"I'm not gay," he repeated quietly. "But I liked it. When you kissed my hand. I don't understand it."

I guess I had forgetten for a moment that he was a fifteen year old boy, still naive and curious about the world and how it works. He seemed so much more mature for his age. He was most likely not much aware of the other side of the heterosexual-homosexual spectrum. I knew teenagers experimented with the same sex, something I never did; I knew I was gay since I was eleven. Harry may have accepted me for who I am, but I don't think he fully understood what he was accepting.

"Maybe you. . . I mean. . ." I groaned. "I don't know what to tell you, Harry. If you liked something, then you like it. If you don't, then you don't."

"I guess I like it when you kiss me."

I forced my head to turn to look at him. A blush had painted his face a pale red. His emerald eyes, some shades darker than my own green orbs, were looking at the dewy ground. My cloak was still clutched in his hand. "I only kissed your hand, Harry. That's far from a normal kiss."

Harry raised his eyes to my face. He let go of my cloak and his hand dropped to his side. "I know."

I turned on my heel so my body was facing his. My hand reached up without my knowledge and brushed his unruly bangs away from his face. His scar, shaped like a lightning bolt, was etched into the right side of his forehead. I bent my head a bit. Harry let out a little gasp when my lips lighted on his scar. I remained there for a second or two then backed away. His emerald eyes widened as I looked down at him. "I'm see you later, Harry." My hand dropped to my side, and I turned away from the student. "Please try to stay out of trouble."

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The pages to the Daily Prophet scattered when I threw them across the room. Rage turned my veins to fire, and I knew not even my potion could calm my temper. I couldn't understand how he could do this. How could the damn Minister of fuckin' Magic appoint that damn toad as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts?! She was not an immediate success, and was not loved by any of students, unless there were some here who actually kissed her ass. Umbridge was as unbearable as they come, but now she can inspect the teachers, which I knew was the Minister's way of giving her permission to snitch on any of the professors if they were not doing as the Minister says. Which meant at some point she was going to inspect me. I've heard terrible stories about how she treats "half-breeds," and if she found out my heritage, I'll never be employed again.

The Prophet had even pointed out that Lupin was a werewolf, Hagrid was a half-giant (which anyone could see), and that Mad-Eye Moody was a lunatic. All three were excellent teachers, even if some of their teaching methods were questionable. At least the students were learning something when they were teaching here! Not sitting at a desk, forcing teh students to read a book and write down ridiculous rules about who-gives-a-damn.

I kicked the pages that had landed on the floor out of my way as I headed to the portrait entrance. I opened it forcefully and marched out. The wolf didn't say anything to me, which was a very wise decision.

I didn't see anyone as I stalked to the North Tower where I was to be helping Trelawney. I didn't know how I was going to handle being in that stuffy room. My blood was bubbling, but I managed to dull it to a steady simmer by the time I reached the ladder that lead to the Divination classroom.

"Welcome, Talis," Trelawney greeted in her usual misty voice. "Something seems to be troubling you." She looked at me with her too big glasses, eyes magnified to a point where they resembled bug eyes.

I breathed in the heavily perfumed air, and allowed my temper to cool further. "I fear Umbridge will figure out my heritage," I said after a few moments. "If she does, then I shall kiss good-bye any job in the future."

"Your future is still bright," the professor murmured, tugging her long hair free of her shawl. "But I share your fears. The professor in question. . . her future holds darkness and danger." She sat down in her winged chair and looked up at me. "Please have a seat, Talis. The students are on their way."

When I had Trelawney as a teacher, I was the only one of her students who actually believed she was a Seer. Her ways may be a bit eccentric, but the predictions usually came true in one form or another. I knew that she knew I half-assed most of my assignments in her class, but she didn't seem to mind.

I plopped down in a warm, poofy chair and set my supplies on the table beside it.

Five minutes later the students crawled through the trapdoor. I immediately noticed that they were fifth years, and Harry was among them. Did Dumbeldore plan to have me in Harry's classes all year? Why the hell would he do that? He gave me instructions to figure out what Umbridge was up to, not to protect the Boy-Who-Lived. The students sat down in what I figured was their usual places, and several waved or smiled when they saw me. Harry tries to catch my eye, but I refused to look at him.

Trelawney rose to her feet like some sort of apparition and started handing out the book of the day. She gave me a copy as she passed, and I noticed it was the Dream Oracles book. I remembered this one. I had so much fun writing down bogus dreams. I flipped through the book, skimming over the familiar material until I noticed someone else had entered the room. There was no denying the squat pink figure standing on the now closed door. I cleared my throat somewhat loudly, catching the attention of a few students and Trelawney. She turned to look at me and I nodded to Umbridge.

"Well, good afternoon, Professor Trelawney. I hope you got the note reminding you that today was the day of your inspection?"

Trelawney didn't look pleased at all about having the Dask Arts teacher in her territory. She turned her back on her fellow teacher and continued to hand out books. I watched her, doing my best to ignore the malicious eyes that were burning into the side of my head.

"We shall continue on our journey to understanding prophetic dreams." Her voice was shaking, and I wasn't the only one to notice. "Please, divide into pairs and interpret your partner's dreams with your book. If you have any trouble interpretting, please ask Mr. Creary or myself for help. I am sure he will be happy to assist you."

I nodded to the teacher and gave a reassuring smile to the students. I hopped to my feet, brushing my hand against my thigh to assure myself that I had my wand, and started meandering amongst the students. The dreams they spoke about were hilarious, romantic, and, in some cases, dark. It seemed like they were having a healthy variety of nightly visions. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Umbridge stalking Trelawney as she asked the students questions.

"How long have you been in this position?"

Trelawney looked at her as if she could make her burst into flames with her glare. "Sixteen years."

"Such a long time," Umbridge remarked. "Was it Professor Dumbeldore who appointed you?"

"Yes." Trelawney was getting visibly upset with each question Umbridge tossed at her. I twisted around, almost upsetting a table, when I heard Umbridge ask Trelawney to make a prediction for her. The students seemed to be holding their breath as they waited for their Divination teacher to speak.

"The Inner Eye can not See when commanded," Trelawney growled, folding her arms over her chest. Suddenly her eyes became unfocused. She raised a shaky hand at Umbridge. "I see peril in your furture. . . grave danger. . . something dark!"

I cocked my head to the side a bit as the professor calmed down. She cleared her throat and looked curiously at Umbridge. Trelawney's predictions may seem dumb most of the time, but there was something in her voice. . . something mysterious. . .

"If that's the best you can do. . ." Umbridge simpered before leaving the room.

I walked over to the trapdoor and, as soon as Unbridge was on the ladder, slammed it shut with my foot. I looked at the Divination teacher and frowned. She was shaking so badly that she could hardly stand. Thinking quickly, I scooped up her favorite Seeing ball and walked over to her. "Professor?"

There was an anger in her eyes that I've never seen before, and I almost flinched. "Yes?"

I held out the globe to her. "Why don't you gaze into your crystal ball?" I suggested gently. "We both know it calms you when you look into its depths. I can help the class." I scooted closer and whispered, "You're too unfocused at the moment. Your Inner Eye is clouded from your emotions, professor."

Trelawney seeemed to deflate and took the ball with shaky hands. "You're right, my dear. Thank you."

"It's no problem," I whispered, helping her to her favorite chair. I took a deep breath then turned to the waiting class. Every eye was trained on me as I spoke up, "Class, I will be your professor for the time being. If you have any questions about your dream journals, please do not hesitate to ask me for help." I glanced back at Trelawney, but she was already gazing into her crystal ball, mumbling to herself.