Harry Potter, the order of the Phoenix, and the DarkChilde

Author's note: I know. I know. I'm really slow on writing this. Not from any lack of interest, just other things going on life wise and writing wise, so it kind of sinks to the bottom

Part 4a: Class 3, Defense Against the Dark Arts

And with that lunch was over and time for another session of Defense Against the Dark Arts, currently being taught by Professor Dolores Umbridge. And the class instructionary method had been reduced to reading the text book, no lecture, no labs, no demonstrations, just reading. A class in which the Professor Umbridge watched the students read. Questions were not welcomed or really allowed. And any mention of the return of Voldermort was forbidden as the Ministry of Magic refused to admit that Voldermort had returned. Hence the Ministry's ongoing campaign of harassment against Harry, and anyone else who might disagree with the public pronouncements of the Ministry (currently the Ministry was spreading the assertion that Dumbledore was going senile).

The students shuffled into the classroom 3C, a high ceiling room with light filling gothic church style clear glass windows with an iron chandelier hung from the ceiling, as well as a dragon's skeleton. The instructor's desk was at the front of the classroom along with a large black chalk board. The room was structured like a traditional classroom with lots of straight rows of individual desks.

Harry noticed that the new girl was likewise in this class, and again she took a seat in the front, with her purple dragon riding on her shoulder looking around. A dragon that attracted the ire of Professor Umbridge, who was seated behind her desk, as she firmly stated in a sweet voice.

"Pets are not allowed in classrooms, kindly remove your creature Miss Rasputin."

Illyana calmly and politely replied. "Lockheed is not a pet but I understand Professor." Then a whispered word to the dragon that elicited a smoky distainy sounding snort from the dragon as he took to the air, flying through the ribs of the dragon before swooping over the entering students and flying out the door with a flap of his wings causing the students still entering to duck with some students ohhing and ahhing.

A disruption that appeared to annoy Professor Umbridge as she rose while stating, "Take your place students, wands away and text book out." A flick of her wand caused the course instructions to appear on the blackboard.

Defense Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

Course Aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use

Umbridge continued. "No talking and commence reading. Miss Rasputin as you are new to Hogwarts and this class, kindly start with chapter one."

With that she sat down and observed the class as the students put their books on the desk and attempted to read the boring textbook Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard, and based upon the chapter headings, was mostly concerned itself with negotiation and appeasement of, rather than actual defense against the Dark Arts. Amazon quick reviews, magical market, give it four thumbs down and one reviewer was uncertain as to the true purpose of the book as it might have been satire (it was not). Another considered it a fantastic insomnia sleeping aid as they had never gotten past chapter 2. A third did mention that the bind of the book was of high quality, which was very helpful when the reader had used the book as an actual weapon.

With that the reading, or drowsing as so many students found the book very hard to read, commenced. The room was silent but for the occasional turning of pages. The first class on Monday has already demonstrated that disagreement was rather futile and that the intent of the class was not instruction. Plus nobody liked detention and Harry's four day detention sentence was already known to the entire school, but not the actual details. Yes he was writing lines, but not in the traditional manner as the quill Professor Umbridge had him use wrote with his own blood and carved the words he wrote into the back of his writing hand, only to instantly heal.

Many a long minute passes, made extra long by the drudgery of the reading material they had to plough through. This was only the second day of class and already the students were dreading the year of reading this book of complete dross. And it was after lunch, and a tad warm, so food coma was whispering drossy words to most of the students. It was Hermione who first noticed that…

The new student has raised her hand. A hand that Professor Umbridge was diligently ignoring. And so Miss Rasputin raised the ante by clearing her throat and asking.

"Professor Umbridge, I have a question."

"What deary…" Was the false sweet reply.

"Will there be a lab or some activity to demonstrate the… learning?"

"No."

"May I ask why?"

A sweet tone and smile that so said shut up. "No."

Illyana did not. "So… we are supposed to learn how to ride a horse by reading a book as it were? Reading is good, but you do have to sit upon the horse in order to learn to the particulars."

A much less sweet reply. "Disrespect will not be tolerated."

Illyana did not stop speaking. "Hypothetically, were I to be a practitioner of the dark arts, and I were to encounter somebody using what is in this book, I don't know if I would laugh myself silly or just zap the idiotic offendent into a red smear."

"Ten points from Slytherin Miss Rasputin. My my, your presence has cost your house a great deal of points today. Now choose your next words carefully."

"Apologies Professor, my… prior instructors have always taught me to ask questions. I just don't understand how this… book… could in anyway help somebody against any protagonist with hostile intent, much less your Lord Voldermort."

Professor Umbridge was most quick in her response and harsh in tone. "Detention Miss Rasputin, starting tonight, five o'clock, my office, you can join Mr. Potter on writing lines. A reminder class that the Ministry has repeatedly stated that he who must not be named has not returned and any lies to the contrary will be dealt with. Now kindly sit silently and refrain from telling falsehoods. Oh, and…"

Read.

Your.

Book.

And that was that, the class had already learned that disagreement would not be tolerated and any statements that Umbridge had issues with either resulted in lost points or even harsher methods, as Harry was familiar with.

Part 4b: 5pm

After class Harry had gone to the library in an attempt to catch up with the mounting pile of school work he had to do. Having to miss supper and spend hours writing lines in Umbridge's office was not helping in that endeavor. And so, several minutes before 5pm he was once again at the door to her office. The new girl, minus her dragon, was already standing outside, looking bored and just gave him a slight nod of recognition but did not attempt to engage in any conversation, which suited Harry just fine as his foul mode as certainly not conducive to such activities.

Promptly at 5pm the door opened, and once again he gazed within the transformed office. The surfaces all draped in lay covers and cloths, plus the vases full of dried flowers, all residing on their own doily. One of the walls was filled with a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolor kitten wearing a different bow around its neck.

Harry heard the faintest of whispers from the new girl. "Hello kitty purgatory." Which Harry felt did sum up the room quite well.

And once again Professor Umbridge was there in luridly flowered robes. "Sit."

She gestured at two small lace draped tables, each with their own straight back chairs, and a plentiful supply of paper. And the two students did, after first dropping their satchels. She handed each of them a long, thin black quill (which Harry was quite familiar with).

And that so fake sweet voice. "Now students, you will write I must not tell lies. Write until I tell you to stop." With that Umbridge went to her desk and watched them.

The new girl had asked no questions, but did look puzzled as she looked at the quill, and then her desk as she found no ink. A side glance at Potter, he was on her left, showed her that he also had no ink. With a shrug she wrote the first words on the parchment.

I must

A slight hiss of pain from her as the red letters were drawn on the parchment as the words I will were lightly carved into the back of her hand, only to then disappear.

"Don't dither students." Reminded Umbridge, and you could hear the humor in her voice.

The new girl finished writing the line.

I must not tell lies. Written in her own blood.

And observed the words carved into her hand, only to fade. A bit of a muse of an expression was all that she showed, before resuming to write line after line. If the searing pain bothered her, it could not be discerned from her body language.

I must not tell lies.

I must not tell lies.

I must not tell lies.

I must not tell lies.

I must not tell lies.

As Harry likewise bloodily wrote

Darkness fell, and just like yesterday, the writing went on for hours. Harry diligently plowed on as for him this was a test of wills.

But, after quite some time, he noticed the new girl was doing something… weird with her left hand as she wrote with her right. Like she was plucking at something. Like you might fiddle with a thread or twist a loose screw. And she was putting little… splotches at the end of each line?

I must not tell lies. (

I must not tell lies. _)

I must not tell lies. %$

I must not tell lies. -

I must not tell lies. !*

Which was odd, the figures did not look like any alphabet he's seen before. Splotches that smeared out into just a blob after a minute or so.

Then, a final line from her, followed be deep lines.

I must not tell lies. \\

And a shriek from behind them as Professor Umbridge shouted about something. Harry quickly turned to see what the problem was, but the new girl ignored the commotion and continued to just add lines.

I must not tell lies. \\\\

Professor Umbridge was holding up her right hand and grasping her right wrist with her left as blood poured down her right arm. "Ahhhhh!"

I must not tell lies. \\\\\\\

Professor Umbridge clutched her bleeding hand to her chest, drenching her robes with the crimson flow. The back of her hand now turned towards Harry and, to his horror, it was if as somebody was cutting her hand with an invisible knife.

I must not tell lies. \\\\\\\\\

"STOP WRITING!" Shrieked Umbridge.

Which was unnecessarily direction for Harry as he had stopped the moment Umbridge screamed. But the new girl was not paying attention and as Harry looked over at her, he saw that her expression was frozen and her parchment just a pool of blood as she keep making slashing motions on the parchment that were cutting bloody slices in her own right hand that was pouring out blood.

Umbridge rushed over and grabbed at the girl. "STOP YOU STUIPD FOOL!" Which incidentally splashed Umbridge's blood all over the new girls clothing and hair.

Which did rouse the girl from her stupor as she ceased to slice at the parchment. She gave a shriek as she came to her senses and saw her desk covered in blood, and the condition of her right hand as Harry grabbed a blank piece of parchment and slapped it on the new girl's hand in an attempt to stanch the flow of blood.

That's when the door to the office swung open to the shouted word "Apertum!"

Revealing Professor Severus Snape standing in the doorway, wand in hand, looking at first concerned about something (two bloody students and a bloody Professor does tend do that), then his expression morphed into his usual stern façade as he asked a question as to just what the hell was going on, but asked as only Snape could, spoken slowly in a tone that both communicated the superiority of the one speaking, and the obvious trouble the recipient was in.

"Delores?"