A/N: I wished I owned Harry Potter. Alas, I do not. Ms. Rowling, I'd be happy to take it off your hands

A/N: Just a reminder how grades in the wizarding world work

Passing Grades

O: Outstanding

E: Exceeds Expectations

A: Acceptable

Failing Grades

P: Poor

D: Dreadful

T: Troll

Chapter 4: Better Than Expected, Worse Than Expected

September, 1995

"This year things will be different," McGonagall said from the front of the class. With a quick wave of his wand, Neville's paper airplane glided back to his desk. The transfiguration teacher gave him a hard glance and Neville shrugged. McGonagall was still intimidating, but this was his place to show off, and he planned to take full advantage. Some things he would keep hidden for sure, but he needed to show real talent in order to hopefully get some advanced teaching from the Transfiguration mistress.

"O.W.L.s are coming up, and that means that I will expect a higher standard from you all." McGonagall's stern gaze flickered across the class of 5th year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. "There is no reason that every person in this class cannot get at least an A on their transfiguration O.W.L. Some of you may need to apply yourself more, as transfiguration may be challenging to you, but with effort and determination, I look forward to seeing most of you succeed."

"Today, we will be working on some of the most challenging inanimate to live transfiguration. This will give you all a good chance to see where you are at the beginning of the year. While this exact question will not be on the O.W.L., you can be sure that at least one practical demonstration will be at this level, and the written tests will certainly ask the form behind this." With a wave of her wand, a cage on her desk was opened and armadillos floated out to the respective desks, each with four students.

Neville was sitting with Lavender, Dean and Ron. Lavender was alternating between glaring at him and Dean, and then turning to Ron, seeing the prefect badge on his chest and looking sick. Then she turned her head and glared again. If it wasn't for the fact that Neville actually commiserated with her, he would laugh. But it didn't escape Neville's notice that the three most powerful casters among their year mates were at the same table. Lavender was the real surprise.

If there was anyone that Neville had truly misjudged during his time at Hogwarts, Lavender took the cake. Sure, she still liked to gossip in the common room from time to time, and her interest in fashion was at times concerning with a remarkably singular focus. But she was no slouch at charms and had worked hard last year. Becoming better friends with Hermione had boosted her grades across the board, and Neville wouldn't be surprised if she was in the top 10 in their year. It helped that she soared through divination, and Neville also knew she was a mean hand at astronomy.

Still, she had chosen to sit with Dean and himself, instead of with Parvati and Padma. It was a subtle statement that this year, she would be focusing harder, even in the classes she struggled with. To be fair, almost everyone struggled with transfiguration. Neville knew that outside of conjuration of concrete shields to block penetrating or unknown spells, most of the students he had spent time with over the summer barely spent any time on the finer points of the art.

"You will be turning these armadillos into pillows. For anyone who believes they can do it perfectly, please turn your pillows back into armadillos at the end. There should be four to an animal. The theory for these types of transfiguration will have been in your summer reading. Please begin."

"Summer reading, eh?" Ron said, nerves clear in his voice.

"You are a prefect," Lavender hissed. "You seriously didn't do the summer reading?"

"I was playing a bunch of quidditch," Ron protested. "The keeper spot is open this year, and I think I've got a shot."

"Quidditch?" Lavender shot back. The two started arguing and Neville looked at Dean, who rolled his eyes. Neville snapped his wand into his hand and with a gesture the armadillo started to shrink and contract, until a simple red pillow sat on the desk, no sign of the shell of the creature.

"Damn," Dean muttered. "Silent transfiguration?"

"Honestly, whenever I can I do," Neville admitted, and with another snap of his wand the pillow turned back into the beast. "It took a good month to get nonverbal casting down, and I don't need to start bad habits. Besides, no one was looking. You heard McGonagall. This will tell us where we are relative to the end of the year. Looks like I'm good."

"Showoff," Dean replied, but there was no heat in his voice. He said the incantation and waved his wand, and the shell of the armadillo certainly looked softer, and the toes disappeared. "Not so easy for us mere mortals."

"Transfiguration is really tough for almost everyone," Neville consoled Dean after another switch left the armadillo missing eyes and ears. His own wand swish reverted the armadillo to its natural state. "With charms or defense, you are creating something out of nothing. Channeling magical energy to change the world around you. You should know better than most what I mean, with your redirection." Dean nodded at that. "But transfiguration is different."

"Why? You are still channeling magical energy."

"Yeah, but you when you try and change the natural state of an object into something it isn't, the reaction of the object goes into effect. The armadillo doesn't want to be a pillow, because it is made up of armadillo parts. Heart, legs, shell, so on. If you don't change all of those at once, the transfiguration becomes unstable. At a more basic level, you have to consider all those factors."

"Really?" Lavender pipped in, and Neville saw the two students to his right were listening attentively.

"That's the complex way to do it, learning slowly, and probably the right way if you don't have a big power reserve," Neville told her. "But for the more powerful," Neville said the incantation as he flicked his wand. Sure, it built bad habits but there was no reason to show all his cards. He might be friendly with Lavender, but nonverbal casting should stay a secret a little while longer. The armadillo shifted into a pillow again.

"So how did you do it?" Dean asked as he examined the pillow.

"I just forced my magic into the spell, and ignored what the armadillo was. I wanted to make the mass of whatever was in front of me into a pillow, so I did. I could do it to a krup puppy, or I could do it to a rock. As long as size isn't a factor, my power will do the rest. But if you can't brute force," Neville said the incantation to reverse the spell, and the armadillo was back, "do it piece by piece."

"Very impressive Mr. Longbottom," Professor McGonagall said, standing in front of the desk. "20 points to Gryffindor for a perfect transfiguration, and another 5 for helping your housemates."

"Thank you, Professor," Neville said, a small smile flitting over his face, his head bowed. If that impressed her, his chat after class should blow her away.

"So piece by piece?" Ron asked, and Neville nodded. Ron flicked his wand and said the incantation and the armadillo went limp, its legs turning into some kind of fabric.

"Not bad," Neville admitted. He spent the rest of the period offering small tips to the group. More than a few Ravenclaws were frustrated by their inability to get anywhere close to the Gryffindor table. Neville glanced across the room and saw Parvati and Padma with limited success as well. What really alarmed him was that he saw Hermione trying the spell once, fail, and then her head went straight down.

When the bell rang, Neville grabbed Lavender and pulled her aside. He had a quick word with her about Hermione, and Lavender acknowledged the statement and told Neville she would keep an eye out, but that there was little she could do if Hermione didn't want to speak with her. As Neville prepared to leave, the transfiguration professor held up a hand.

"Mr. Longbottom, a word?" Neville nodded, and got a wry smile from Abigail as she walked past him. Neville was surprised to realize he had almost forgotten about her, caught up in his own success. A very potent reminder that there was always someone better, and in this case, far better.

"Of course, Professor McGonagall." The Scottish woman seemed to be searching for the right words, but seemed to be unable to find them. "Is this about my transfiguration today?" There was no response to that. "Or perhaps about my summer." Neville saw a reaction at that. "I will say the summer was quite challenging, but results were worth it."

"You seemed at ease with the transfiguration today," McGonagall said after a long silence.

"Yes, this summer I found I had a talent for it," Neville said. "I would never malign your teaching certainly not compared to some of the other instruction we have had at this school. You are certainly among the upper echelons, and from what I can tell, are one of the few professors at this school that has respect outside Europe. But for whatever reason, the person I worked on spellcasting with this summer was able to make transfiguration make sense in a way I had never considered before. It was like a light turning on."

"It is without a doubt the most complex aspect of magic, but the uses are innumerable. Both in battle and real life, a transfiguration master can perform feats of magic that are night impossible to counter. This summer I watched a magically reinforced golem smash through impossible objects. That instilled a new interest in the subject. Plus, I made some progress towards what might be referred to as specialty magic, and it certainly gave me a boost in my transfiguration abilities."

"Hmmmm." McGonagall seemed thoughtful at that. "Very well." She flicked her wand in the air, and a piece of paper floated down to her desk. She grabbed a quill and scribbled a quick note. "A late pass for your next class."

"Thanks," Neville replied, grabbing the pass. "I wouldn't want to piss of Professor Sprout on the first day."

"From what I understand, if there was a student she would let slide, it might be you," McGonagall said with a slight smile. Neville smiled back and headed for the door, but he stopped at the edge of the classroom.

"Professor McGonagall… I know that Hermione is having an awful time with Harry's, you know…" Neville trailed off. McGonagall had been in the graveyard so was privy to the truth behind Harry and Fleur's disappearance, so Neville hesitated to say death, even though Gringotts' death notification seemed to make it clear Harry was not returning. "I know she sees you as a mentor, so if you could try and engage her early in the year, I think it might help drag her out of her funk."

"That is a good idea," McGonagall said. "I will speak to her soon. Perhaps some harder assignments to force her to focus on work."

"Yeah," Neville agreed. "Also, I am guessing that no one has talked to the stern and stoic transfiguration professor about her loss, but you lost a favorite student and grandson. If you ever need someone to talk with, or even if you just need someone to listen, I would be happy to help however I can. It helped me to get some of my feelings out over the summer."

"I must say, you have changed for the better," McGonagall confessed. "You never would have made that offer six months ago, and it shows really maturity. I may take you up on that offer later in the year. Gods know I do miss him, but I can't exactly blame him when his disappearance is, to my knowledge, critical to the survival of our universe."

"What a git," Neville said, and got a small smile at that. "Well, I should get going." McGonagall nodded in dismissal and Neville left the room, and once he hit the hallway he swung his bag over his shoulder and broke into a jog, knowing that despite his note Professor Sprout would become annoyed if he was more than 10 minutes late, and he would certainly cut it close.

As Neville raced to Herbology, the first defense against the dark arts class of the year was starting, with the 5th year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Daphne overheard a few students mentioning that Neville had perfectly completed what seemed like a hard task a few times, and had rung up an early 25 points from McGonagall. What's more, it seemed like it wasn't favoritism. It wasn't a surprise that Neville was stronger, he had showed that he was not to be trifled with during his encounter with Draco on the train. But apparently his spellcasting was on a new level too, so much so that a class that included multiple Ravenclaws and Hermione Granger had been outdone with apparent ease.

"Good morning class!" Umbridge said, and a few students mumbled at that. "Let's try that again, shall we? Good morning class!"

"Good morning Professor Umbridge," more than a few students said. Daphne saw Susan remained silent much like her. But where Daphne looked on with interest, Susan's eyes seemed to be burning a hole in Umbridge's back as she walked by.

"Are you ok?" Daphne whispered. "If looks could kill, she'd be on the floor right now." It looked like Susan barely heard her, her hands balled into fists. "Sue?"

"If I could have quiet please?" Umbridge demanded, and whirled as she reached the front of the class. She glared at their desk, more at Hannah than anyone else, who had been talking in hushed tones to Ernie and Hannah sat up straight, and quieted instantly. "Thank you." Umbridge turned to the chalkboard and flickered her wand. Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations, or O. . Study hard, and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and you may find yourself in quite a bit of trouble in the future. Of course, the ministry hires only the best and brightest."

"You mean to say if we don't need to work at the ministry, it doesn't matter how we do?" Daphne cursed silently at Susan's flippant remark. Sure, she had no intention of working for the ministry either and Susan seemed to want to antagonize Umbridge right away, which wouldn't go well.

"Your past instruction on the subject has been worryingly inconsistent and often incorrect," Umbridge said, giving a tight smile, seemingly ignored Susan. "You will be pleased to know that this year you will be following a carefully selected ministry approved course. As Senior Undersecretary to Minister Fudge, I watched with pride as he created the course with help from many renowned experts. Without a doubt, it will make sure that your O.W.L.s go well. Please take out the assigned book now." Daphne reached into her back and reluctantly took out Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard. There was a slight hope that they would critically examine the book and point out the flaws, and then move to a real textbook.

When she had gotten her book list and showed it to her parents, it had started an investigation by her father to figure out what moron was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had not made much headway other that learning that Griselda Marchbanks, the Head of Education and Wizarding Examinations at the ministry, had been overruled and that this book and the teacher were handpicked by the Fudge administration. Of course, Daphne had sent a letter the night before with Umbridge's name and unusual speech. Her father might not be hostile to the pureblood movement anymore now that the dark mark and Voldemort's stain was gone, but he still had a fair of amount of hatred for incompetence, which was around in spades in the Wizengamot in the "Dark" faction.

"Ah, it is good you all have your books," Umbridge continued. "This is the textbook we will be using this year. A sudden thought hit Daphne, and she hid her smile. It was nice to have classes with Ravenclaw, but why would the school once again pair Gryffindor and Slytherin in the one class that might have dangerous spells flying around. It seemed less likely this year, but every year, it was Gryffindor and Slytherin in Defense. It seemed like a weird choice by the Headmaster.

"Excuse me, but this book has nothing about using defense spells," a familiar voice called out. Daphne whipped her head around and saw Luna Lovegood at the back of the classroom. That threw Daphne for a loop. Sure, Luna could be odd at times but to blatantly go to a class that wasn't hers was a little too much.

"I'm sorry, and you are?"

"Luna Lovegood, Ravenclaw."

"Lovegood?" Umbridge looked at her class list. "Ah yes, one of our special students this year." Umbridge put sarcastic stress on the word. "Your Head of House tested you and recommended you be moved up a year in Defense and Charms. I'm sure we will have a wonderful time working together." Luna gave a cheerful smile. "Moving on,"

"What about defensive spells?" Luna asked again, a little bit of the cheerfulness gone from her voice.

"What possible reason could you have to use spells?" Umbridge twittered nervously and took a few steps towards Luna. It sent her past her desk, and Susan's head swirled around, the death glare in full effect. Daphne sighed at this. Susan had given no indication that there was a history between her and Umbridge. She would get the truth later and go from there. But as Umbridge stalked forward, Luna met her gaze evenly, and Daphne was impressed in spite of herself.

"We aren't going to use magic?" Luna asked curiously.

"As I have already said, this year you will be following a ministry approved curriculum, and the ministry has decided that based on the curriculum, Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard will teach you all you need to know to do well on your O.W.L.s."

"That doesn't make any sense," Luna argued. "There is still a practical part of our O.W.L.s, right? We are supposed to cast every spell first time of asking?"

"You will be learning about defensive spells in a ministry ordered, risk free way. If you do the required reading and homework, the ministry is sure that the practical portion of the exam will be easy for you. I do hope you looked over the book, especially since you are so talented that our esteemed charms professor," Daphne looked up at that, the venom dripped from Umbridge's voice at the mention of Flitwick "decided you belonged in this class despite your age."

"I'm in 5th year charms too," Luna responded with a big smile, and Daphne wondered if Luna was trying to annoy Umbridge on purpose, or if she genuinely didn't care and was saying whatever she thought. "So, about those spells?"

"There is no need to worry about that," Umbridge said. "As I have already said, it is the view of the ministry that a theoretical understanding of the spells will be enough to get you through your examinations with excellence, which of course, is what school is all about."

"Three things," Daphne turned a little and saw Terry Boot speaking now. Umbridge's face was purple now. "First of all, school isn't about tests. School is about learning magic and other important magical things, like history or how to brew a potion."

"Students will raise their hand if they wish to speak in my class!" Umbridge hissed.

"Second, you seem rather mad if you think we will go into our O.W.L.s without casting a single spell," Terry continued. Apparently it was his turn to ignore the professor. "And third, you have claimed that this is the ministry's view. I thought your name was Professor Umbridge. Would you mind telling us your personal views?" Ravenclaws, always so clever, Daphne mused. Though she was forced to admit that it was actually a rather clever point.

"In my capacity as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, I speak for the ministry." Terry seemed frustrated at the non-answer and sat back in his seat, seemingly too frustrated with the interaction to bother continuing.

"Now, I would like all of you to open your books. You can start to read aloud. First why don't we have Mr.?" Umbridge stared at Terry. "I'm sure you will see how wonderful this class will be soon enough Mr.?"

"Boot." Terry said. He paused for a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind. "Heir to the Boot seat on the Wizengamot." This gave Umbridge pause. Daphne silently snickered at that. One of the few things Daphne did know about Umbridge from her father's notes about possible teachers was that the woman was a blood purist of the highest order. Luna was a pure-blood, but is seemed Umbridge's dislike of the girl trumped that. But making herself look bad in front of Terry was another matter entirely. His father had real sway as one of the leaders of the neutral faction in the Wizengamot. Quite a few members listened to the vote of Lord Boot on contentious topics.

"Very well, Mr. Boot." Umbridge was instantly a little more conciliatory. "If you would not mind reading from the beginning of the first page." Daphne's eyes narrowed. Apparently, while pure-blood might not have mattered for Luna, pure-blood plus influence was another matter.

"Whatever," Terry murmured, but loud enough for everyone to hear him. "This book is designed to give every witch and wizard important knowledge when it comes to the dark arts. In this book we will cover the important theories when it comes to the dark arts, whether that be negotiating, retreat, and of course, how to best alert the authorities." Susan snorted at that, and Daphne's mind began whirling. She had an inkling of why Susan was upset, and scribbled a quick note, which she slid over to Susan. Susan looked down and nodded.

Now it all made sense. As one of Fudge's main boosters, she was almost guaranteed to be involved in the ousting of Amelia Bones from the DMLE. Daphne knew it still ate at Susan that her aunt essentially could not live in Britain, and that she would likely be forced to take the Bones seat when she came of age. Susan had spoken at length about her plans to travel after graduation, but being forced to take the seat permanently and not being allowed to name a stand-in, which would be necessary if Amelia's firstborn was born in another country would keep her stuck in Britain for at least a few years, until Fudge granted her petition to allow someone else to hold the seat and vote for her.

Also, Amelia Bones' removal from the seat was a joke that lost Fudge a number of allies. Amelia Bones was well-respected by many, and while she occasionally leaned light, she was known to be fair and unbiased. A few neutral families had a few words to say about her removal, but the support of the slightly more conservative block kept the voices in check. Of course Susan would hate the woman who had dramatically changed her life plans. Especially since Susan had mentioned how her world view had changed after spending the summer on the continent.

Umbridge changed up the speaker a few times, calling on a variety of pure blood students, which occasionally snapped Daphne out of her stupor. The book was painfully boring and she caught herself zoning out multiple times, almost drifting off to sleep once. The bell mercifully tolled and the class filed out. Daphne chanced a look back, and saw that Umbridge looked extremely pleased with herself. Older student's spoke often about the intensity of O.W.L.s. At least with some practice on the side with her boyfriend, one of the most impressive DADA students at the school, it shouldn't be too hard to do well on the O.W.L., even if the class was likely to be awful.

"Well, that was…" Hannah said, seemingly lost for words.

"Worse than expected for sure," Daphne finished her sentence. "At least Binns doesn't notice when you nap. Even then, I almost fell asleep a few times."

"Did you notice what she did?" Ernie asked. "She didn't call on a single muggleborn student. She also definitely treated purebloods, or family members of Wizengamot seat holders differently. She was almost sickeningly nice to me, and I'm not even a direct heir. My uncle holds the seat, and my dad is the third son."

"Well it's just another wonderful year of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts," Susan said, and the group broke into laughter.