Later that night, after finishing their History of Magic essays in the library, Harry and Hermione set off on their prefect patrols. They spent some time discussing Professor Umbridge and her useless curriculum, before heading off in separate directions on the fifth floor. It was clear that nobody was going to learn anything worthwhile in Defence Against the Dark Arts that year, which made Harry wonder, again, whether Voldemort was pulling the strings from the shadows.

Bet he'd love having us all defenceless, Harry thought.

But when he brought up the topic with Tonks the next morning, during double Charms, Tonks insisted that Cornelius Fudge was not bewitched. She and Kingsley, in particular, had observed Fudge from time to time; and that, combined with Dumbledore's guess on Fudge acting of his own accord made it more likely that the Imperius Curse was not at play.

"So, it all comes down to Dumbledore's guess, then, eh?" Harry said, speaking in a low tone of voice. He was sitting beside Tonks in the back row of desks. "Your surveillance won't mean much when you consider how effective that Imperius Curse might be."

One of the biggest advantages of Charms was that you could often hold private conversations without being overheard, seeing as everyone else was too busy with their spellwork. And as long as you were demonstrating acceptable progress with your own spells, Professor Flitwick didn't seem to mind the chatter.

"Ask yourself this," said Tonks, having mastered her Summoning Charm already. "Why bother putting that curse on Fudge when he's already proven himself to be a questionable leader at times? The man even gave himself an Order of Merlin once, for crying out loud. Quite a few people thought he didn't deserve it – including me."

Harry didn't even need to practise the Summoning Charm at this point, given his efforts last year. "I still think he's bewitched, though. He just doesn't seem right in the head."

"Because you're still used to the cosy Fudge," said Tonks. "He was a proper lad back in the day, right? Heard he got you nice and settled in to the Leaky Cauldron, back when you did your Knight Bus getaway."

Harry felt his cheeks and ears heat up a bit. He could remember his reprisal against Aunt Marge as if it were yesterday.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said. Tonks remained silent for a while before continuing.

"In any case, Fudge is decent when things are calm and he doesn't see you as a threat. He was pretty chuffed when I made Auror, just so you know."

"But it's all fake, right?"

"Sort of, but not really," said Tonks, with a thoughtful expression on her slightly Fleur-like face. "It's more that he basks in a controlled environment and uses it to boost his own ego. But when the going gets tough, just watch how he starts spinning that lime-green bowler hat from the nerves. And when things get really tough, well, you can see what's happening nowadays."

They ceased their conversation when Professor Flitwick came over to congratulate them on their superb Summoning Charms. He gave them each three points to Gryffindor, and went to observe Ron and Hermione nearby.

"So, yeah," said Tonks, leaning back in her seat. "That's Fudge in a nutshell. He's a peacetime leader, mostly."

Double Charms was succeeded by double Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall started off with a grim speech about their O.W.L.s, after which they were made to practise the Vanishing Spell, Evanesco, on some snails (due to invertebrates being easier to work with). Harry had already forced himself to practise more in advance, resulting in him vanishing a snail on his seventh attempt (Hermione achieved it in three, while Tonks pretended to struggle for a while, until her tenth attempt). Professor McGonagall was happy to award Harry, Hermione, and Tonks five points each to Gryffindor.

The rest of the day was pretty straightforward ... mostly. The trio and Tonks spent much of their lunch hour doing Potions and Charms homework, respectively, after which they had a Bowtruckles session with Professor Grubbly-Plank in the afternoon. Harry tried to ask Professor Grubbly-Plank about Hagrid, but was told to mind his own business. Malfoy then leaned closer and whispered a snide remark about Hagrid perhaps being injured, likely from messing with things too big for him.

"I'm not supposed to tell you," Tonks told the trio after class, as they walked behind the others up the sloping lawns. "But seeing as Malfoy seems to be in the know, I reckon there's no harm in letting slip about Hagrid and the giants."

"Giants?" said Ron, his mouth falling open. "What's he doing with them?"

"What do you think?" Hermione asked, in an annoyed tone of voice. "Honestly, Ron, it wouldn't hurt to think a bit deeper this year."

"And it wouldn't hurt for you to lighten up this year," Ron said in return. Tonks ignored the bickering and carried on speaking.

"Dumbledore sent him to try and recruit them. He's got some help from Olympe Maxime, of course, but the Death Eaters are trying their luck as well. No telling which side the giants will join."

Hermione looked paler than usual. "I don't think I'd like the answer to that." (Ron snorted.) "After all, aren't they inherently violent? I reckon You-Know-Who –"

"Just say his name!" Harry said, perhaps a bit too loudly. He shot a withering glance at the sniggering Slytherins up ahead, and slowed down to open the gap. "All this You-Know-Who stuff gets on my nerves!"

Tonks blinked. "You'd better keep those mood swings in check, or else Umbridge will use them against you."

"Like I care," said Harry. But the more Tonks kept looking at him, the more Harry felt his anger gradually subside. "I just wish I could be out there, fighting. Maybe they should've expelled me after all."

"Don't be silly!" said Hermione, looking horrified. "How can you possibly hope to defeat V - Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters if you don't even take your O.W.L.s?"

Harry scoffed and said that the quality of teaching wasn't exactly high, in some cases. He reckoned that if he'd stayed at home and was tutored by Sirius, Tonks, and whoever else there was, he'd be much better off than suffering the likes of Professors Umbridge and Binns. Harry even brought up the questionable teaching of Snape in his argument.

"How can we survive without proper Potions and Defence knowledge?" he asked, feeling his chest heat up once again. "And don't even get me started on Trelawney's nonsense."

"Well," said Hermione, with a look of superiority on her face, "I told you not to complain about Divination, didn't I? You should've switched to Arithmancy or Ancient Runes – preferably both."

Ron scoffed. "And do what? Bore You-Know-Who to death with pictures and numbers?"

Here we go again, Harry thought, as Hermione glared at Ron.

"Shows you what you know!" she said, fuming. Her bushy hair seemed to almost crackle with electricity. "Arithmancy involves intricate calculations and estimations based on numbers and logic, which Divination seems to lack! I'd much rather work with numbers than stare at teacups, crystal balls, palms, and whatever else that part-fraud does!"

Ron gave a false look of amazement. "Blimey, Arithmancy sounds amazing! I suppose it was Professor Vector who predicted Wormtail's escape and You-Know-Who's return, then, eh?"

"Very funny." Hermione looked away from Ron. "That was a flash in the pan for an otherwise fraudulent 'teacher'."

"I'm still waiting for your numbers to actually predict something," said Ron. "Who's the real fraud here?"

Hermione was about to lash out at Ron when Harry said, "Shut up! You're always having a go at each other! It's enough to drive anyone mad!"

"It is kind of annoying," said Tonks. Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards her.

They remained silent until reaching the greenhouses. Harry stood beside Tonks as he distanced himself from the fourth-year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws spilling out. Then he joined his own group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs for an afternoon of O.W.L. talk and messing around with dragon dung.

Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione started bickering again over trivial matters, at dinner. Harry finished his meal in a hurry and left to join Tonks in an empty classroom. She conjured a few snails and helped Harry work on his Vanishing Spells, though Harry couldn't help wondering how Tonks could do this all without really complaining. If Harry were in Tonks's shoes, he would've ditched this undercover assignment in favour of hunting Voldemort.

"Those two sure love arguing, don't they?" Tonks said, when Harry had vanished his second snail. "Problem is, it puts everyone off around them. It's absurd."

But Harry didn't care. Right now, he just wanted to make the most of his studies.

"I was thinking of skipping tryouts on Friday," Harry said, changing the topic. Tonks blinked.

"What? Why?"

Harry shrugged. "Because it's more important to get better at spells than play Quidditch, don't you think? How's that going to help me defeat Voldemort?"

"Do you really mean that?" Tonks asked. And when Harry failed to find a response, Tonks climbed off the desk and came to stand beside Harry. She placed a hand on his left shoulder and said, "Listen, I know how you feel, and not just because Sirius was the same over the holidays. But what you need to understand is that torturing yourself isn't going to help you beat You-Know – er ... Voldemort."

Harry couldn't believe that Tonks had said Voldemort's name. It brought a slight smile to his face.

"That's better," Tonks said, smiling as well. "Do us both a favour and don't throw away your hobbies. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but you should know that Voldemort isn't too far off from Dumbledore himself. You're good, Harry, there's no denying it. But do you really think skipping Quidditch and studying a bit harder is going to bring you up to that level all of a sudden?"

"Now you're making me feel useless," Harry said, frowning. He felt like slamming his textbook shut and throwing it across the room, but he chose not to. "So I'll never be able to match Voldemort, then, is that it?"

"There's no telling how long this war might last, though," said Tonks. "Hell, we might even end up watching Fudge get sacked, and the Auror department taking greater action over the years. Anything's possible."

"Yeah," said Harry, "including the whole Ministry being Imperiused."

Tonks nodded, while rubbing her chin. "Don't think that hasn't crossed my mind yet. But what I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't lose yourself. By all means, study harder and practise duelling, but don't make yourself miserable by ditching what you love."

But this only served to make Harry even more confused. He was torn between wanting to improve and wanting to enjoy his fifth year of school. It was just as maddening as trying to resist Umbridge's subtle goading.

"I don't really know what I want this year," Harry said, shutting his textbook. "Everything's been so muddled since the graveyard. One moment I'm sharing a Triwizard victory, and the next Cedric Diggory's lying dead ... and Voldemort's back."

"It's a damn shame," said Tonks. She waved her wand and summoned the nearest desk, and took a seat in it. "Cedric was a good kid, right from when he first started."

Harry said nothing. Tonks caught the hint and changed the subject to Quidditch.

"Go for tryouts," she said. "You'll feel better, trust me."

"I'd feel better if I could learn something heavy, like the Blasting Curse or something."

Tonks smiled. "Tell you what, if you can block one of mine, I'll consider teaching it to you soon. Deal?"

"But what if I can't block it?" Harry asked, feeling a sense of dread. "I don't want your Auror-level blasts sending me to the hospital wing."

Tonks chuckled and said that she would aim off-target. Should Harry fail to block it, the Blasting Curse would throw him aside and do less damage than a full-on hit. It was sink or swim again.

Gotta get this right. Can't look like an idiot in front of her.

Harry climbed out of his desk and put up his Shield Charm. Tonks fired her Blasting Curse as she'd said; it hit the right side of Harry's invisible barrier and almost shattered it.

"Blimey, that was brilliant!" said Tonks, clapping her hands. "I put a decent amount of power in that one, actually."

"Let's do it again," said Harry, feeling a rush of excitement in his stomach. "Bet I can block two or three more!"

They practised at least ten more times, during which Harry blocked seven of the Blasting Curses. But when Tonks told him to keep his Shield Charm going, Harry was only able to block three Blasting Curses in succession before his defences broke.

"Stop looking so glum," Tonks said, when they'd finished practising. "Your Shield Charm's a lot better than the average one in the Ministry. You're expecting too much of yourself too soon."

"Yeah, well, I doubt the Death Eaters will be holding back on their spells," Harry said. "And that's besides the Killing Curse. Can we go over some duelling Transfiguration too?"

Tonks nodded. "All in due time, Harry. But first, let's cut the duelling and focus on our coursework instead. Better not let those essays and dream-diary entries pile up, eh?"

"Plus the Bowtruckle drawing," said Harry, groaning. "Hard to believe it's only day two ..."

Unfortunately, the workload continued to rise over the next few days. Professors McGonagall, Grubbly-Plank, and Sinistra gave them even more homework, which Harry, Hermione, and Tonks were quick to plough through in their free time. But as for Ron, he was spending more and more time with Katie Bell in the Quidditch stadium.

"What?" said Ron to Hermione, when he returned to the common room on Thursday evening. "Something bothering you?"

Hermione pointed to a list of assignments she'd written on a piece of parchment. "Any of these look familiar? Oh, that's right, it's your growing list of unfinished homework. Just where were you, anyway?"

"I ... fancied a walk," said Ron, sinking into an armchair. "Can't stand all this work, you know?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes while staring at Ron, as if scanning him. Then she stood up from her armchair and walked past the fireplace to stand before Ron. "You'd better tell me the truth, Ron Weasley. Where have you been over these past two evenings?"

"I told you, I fancied a walk. All this O.W.L. stuff is killing me."

Hermione spun around to face Harry and Tonks on their couch. "Harry, do you know where he's been? And don't give me this stupid 'walk' story."

"No idea," said Harry, double-checking his Transfiguration essay. "I've been with Maia the whole time."

It was clear that Hermione didn't believe Ron's excuses. She stomped back to her couch and almost threw herself into it, glaring at Ron.

"You could probably do with a walk too," Ron said. Hermione ignored him and returned to her Arithmancy textbook.

About ten minutes later, Katie Bell entered the common room and flashed a slight smile as she passed Ron's armchair, from behind. She then set off towards the girls' dormitories, with Harry and Tonks being the only ones who spotted her reaction. They kept it to themselves, though.

Quidditch tryouts took place on Friday evening. Nearly half of Gryffindor house turned up, from nervous first-years clutching a selection of dreadful old school brooms, to seventh-years muscling their way through the crowd. Harry saw Ron holding on to his Cleansweep Eleven for dear life, while standing away from the group gathered at the base of the goalposts.

"I'm not going to make it," Ron said, as Harry and Katie approached him. "This was a terrible idea. Utterly mental. Dumbest thing I've done so far, and that's saying something."

Katie glimpsed Fred and George sniggering in the distance at Ron, and frowned. "Stop worrying about what everyone thinks, especially your brothers."

Unfortunately, the Slytherin crowd gathered in the stands above chose that moment to jeer at Ron. Draco Malfoy shouted that Ron ought to sell his broomstick and buy his family a better house. Ron went even paler in the face.

"Deep down they're actually scared," said Katie, eyeing the potential Slytherin-Chasers in the stands. "They know you come from a family of good Quidditch players, so they'll obviously be looking to throw you off your game. It doesn't help that you've got a better broom than Fred and George."

Ron snorted. "Malfoy and friends still got their Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones, though. What difference will a Cleansweep Eleven make against those?"

"It's not all about the broomstick," said Harry, glaring at the Slytherins. "Mind you, I shouldn't be talking."

Ron and Katie chuckled. But the former's grin then slid off his face once Angelina announced that the Keeper tryouts would be first.

"Wish me luck," said Ron, mounting his broomstick. "I'm really going to need it."

"He'll be fine," said Katie, once Ron flew off. "Or he'll make reserves, at least."

Once Angelina had thinned the number of applicants via a few laps around the pitch, it was Ron's turn to step up to the goalposts. Harry watched as Ron saved three penalities out of five compared to his first opponent's two, and made it through to the next round. Katie looked delighted.

From there on, Ron continued to edge his way past the competition until facing Geoffrey Hooper and Vicky Frobisher in the final. They each flew better than Ron and saved roughly the same amount of penalties as him; but with Hooper being an inconsistent whiner and Vicky prioritising her Charms Club, Ron was made first-team Keeper. The Slytherins jeered, and Malfoy said that they couldn't wait to give Ron a 'much-needed' Bludger to the face.

"Blimey," said Harry, shaking his head, "they're even worse than last year."

Ron climbed off his broom, beside Harry. "'Course they are. Bet they can't wait to join You-Know-Who, eh?"

"Tch. Stinking Slytherins," said Harry. "As rotten as their Head."

Next up was the Seeker tryouts. But between Harry still using his Firebolt and the Daily Prophet insisting that he was mad, there was no shortage of drama as Harry made short work of his competition. He ended up having to dock around twenty points in total from his own house, given the amount of verbal abuse hurled at him. All three of his rival Seekers (and some of their friends) ended up getting detention as well.

You know what? Let me just shut them up for good.

And with that, Harry borrowed Ron's Cleansweep Eleven and proceeded to have a rematch on the Golden Snitch. He bested his competition again.

"There! End of story!" said Angelina, stomping her foot in the grass. She blasted her whistle to silence the haters. "If this is how you morons act, then I won't even put you on the reserves! Shove off already!"

The failed Seeker-applicants left the stadium, mocking Harry behind his back.

"Right," said Angelina, having cooled off. "Beaters!"

To nobody's surprise, Fred and George retained their spots on the team. Angelina decided to put runner-ups Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper in the reserves, though she hoped that she would never have to use them.

"Last but not least," said Angelina, "Chasers!"

Much like with Fred and George, it came as little surprise to see the old Chasers retain their spots on the team. They were joined by an impressive Ginny, who made the reserves (with the strong possibility of being called up this year, according to Angelina).

The Slytherins broke into a chant about there being four Weasleys on the team (which included some vulgar humour as well). Harry silenced the group by taking twenty points off Slytherin.

"Snape's not going to like that," Ron said, as the stands began to empty. "First Greengrass and now the others. That's thirty-five points in total you've docked."

Harry felt the corners of his mouth twitch. "As if I care."

"Yeah," said Ron, shouldering his broomstick. "It's their fault anyway. So, er, guess we're together in practice from now on, huh? Weird."

Harry could see what Tonks had meant. Deep down (or perhaps not so deep), he felt a soothing mix of joy and relief at having attended his tryouts. It felt great to maintain his usual routine in the face of oppression, despite the absurdity of it all.