Chapter V
Umbridge
Blaise stuck to Harry like glue as the two went to Divination with Parkinson. Divination has always been Harry's least favorite class mainly because of Professor Trelawney's habit of predicting his premature death every few lessons. There were battered, leather-bound books on each of the spindly little tables in her room as they entered, and Blaise took Harry's arm and escorted him to a back corner table next to a heavily curtained window. Parkinson moved the curtain slightly to get some sunlight and opened the window. "So why are we nice to Potter now?" she asked as the others walk in.
"New start," Blaise shrugged, looking at Harry. Harry looked between the two and nodded. If they were going to have a good start, then it should be without anything hiding, but he didn't feel like going through all of the details over again, he didn't think he could take it.
"Er, Blaise?" he said and looked over at Pansy.
Blaise looked between the two and nodded, "Right, well the short of it is that everything we knew about Harry is wrong, a lie that started somewhere I'm not sure, but after hearing everything horrible he went through, along with seeing how Weasley treated him, Daph, Theo, and I thought that Harry deserves an actual chance with us."
"What do you mean 'everything horrible?'" Parkinson asked, staring at Harry suspiciously.
"He's treated worse than a house-elf by his muggle relatives," Blaise said. "Everything else is Harry's to tell."
"I see," Parkinson said. She looked at Harry and eyed him carefully. "You need new clothes. We'll get some when we go to Hogsmeade."
"Oh, uh, okay," Harry said, staring at her for a moment, confused. Does that mean they're friends now? "Thanks?"
"You will thank me by wearing clothing that actually fits you," Pansy said, "and maybe we'll do something with your hair."
Harry was about to respond when Professor Trelawny started her class. She, like Snape, gave a small speech about the importance of the fifth year because of their upcoming O.W.L.s. The books in front of them, she told them, was The Dream Oracle, and they were to read the introduction and interpret each other's dreams for the lesson. The three Slytherins hunched over their books and Harry was thankful for the open window otherwise he feared that they would be suffering the usual hotness and stuffiness of the heavily curtained room.
"Well this is going to be dull, but do any of you have interesting dreams?" Blaise asked.
"I didn't get much sleep last night," Harry admitted.
"What about before that?" Blaise asked and Harry's cheeks went pink.
He looked down and muttered, "I dreamed about Cedric." Blaise and Pansy gave a hesitant look but Harry continued, "It was a nice dream, just him and me by the lake." He smiled at the memory before staring at the book in front of him. "I miss him."
"It must have been hard," Pansy said, "I don't think I can ever do that. All that hiding."
"Me neither," Blaise said, "I want to spoil my boy openly and proudly."
Harry hummed and sighed, "We did our best. We had this plan, see, Cedric would use the winnings to get a place of his own, away from his parents, and then we would come out. I would be able to live with him during the summer, he would visit every Hogsmeade visit, and we would work to make us work. Stuff like Voldemort, this stupid war, it didn't matter to us. We just wanted our own place where we can just be away from everyone and everything."
Pansy and Blaise shared a look, "You think this war is stupid?"
"Obviously," Harry said, rolling his eyes, "and everyone involved is stupid. The Ministry for pretending it doesn't exist and Dumbledore and his lot for putting the hardest task on me for no bloody reason." He remembered who he was sitting next to and sighed, "This probably sounds out of character for me, doesn't it? Or scandalous. The enemy of your parents saying he doesn't want to be in the war."
"No it actually doesn't," Pansy said. She looked as if she wanted to say more but thought better of it. "It seems that just as we didn't know about you, you really do not know about us and our families." Harry stared at her confused and she giggled. "I don't want to overwhelm you Potter—Harry, so how about we agree to have this probably heavy and long conversation after I get you new clothes? And possibly a new hairstyle."
"Fine, but good luck with my hair," Harry said. He wanted to know badly but was fine with waiting for now. After all, he did not feel like having a serious conversation so new in their friendship, no matter how long they've "known" each other.
The rest of the class went by without a problem. Going through the introduction for interpretations was boring, dull work but Harry enjoyed trading stories with Blaise and Pansy to waste time until the bell rang. However, Blaise was unhappy when Professor Trelawney assigned them to keep a dream diary for a month.
"I'm a healthy growing teenage boy!" he complained, "I do not want her reading about my boy fantasies!" Harry blushed at how lewd he was being.
"Then just make stuff up," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "Harry, do you prefer dark or light colors?"
"Uhhh—"
"Dark then, they might suit you more, but the light colors will make you look cuter for your next boyfriend," Pansy continued on. Harry did not know how to respond, so he said nothing. The three met up with the other Slytherins and made their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts.
When they entered the classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and a black velvet bow on her head. The class was quiet as they entered the room; Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew yet how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.
"Well, good afternoon," she said when the last one sat down.
A few people muttered "good afternoon" back.
"Tut, tut," Umbridge said. "That won't do, 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," Umbridge said 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. Harry shoved his wand back inside his bag and pulled out quill, ink, and parchment. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:
Defense Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
"Your previous instruction in this subject has been rather disruptive. The consistent changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resorted in your being far below the standard we expect to see in your O.W.L. year. But you will be pleased to know, however, that these problems will now be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic."
A hand was raised and Harry turned and wasn't surprised to see that it was Hermione.
"Yes?"
"There's nothing in here about using defensive spells," Hermione said.
"Using spells?" Umbridge said with a light laugh, "Well I cannot imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom."
"We're not going to use magic?" Ron asked.
"You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way," Professor Umbridge said.
"What use is that?" Harry asked, "If we're going to be attacked, it's not going to be 'risk-free.'"
"Students will raise their hands when they are in my classroom, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge said. She took a few steps to stand in front of the entire classroom.
"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?" Harry demanded.
"Harry, stop," Blaise whispered next to him.
"There is nothing out there," Umbridge said. "Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourself?"
"Oh, I don't know, let's think," Harry said in a mock thoughtful voice, "maybe Voldemort?"
Blaise groaned while whispers erupted around them. Harry kept his gaze on Umbridge, who just continued to smile sweetly. "Let me make this quite plain. You have been told that a certain dark wizard is at large again. This. Is. A. Lie."
"It's not a lie! I saw him! I fought him!" Harry said angrily.
"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Professor Umbridge said triumphantly. "Thursday evening, five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard."
Harry was radiating with anger. Blaise grabbed his arm and hissed, "Harry, don't!" Harry pulled his arm from Blaise and stood up, "So according to you Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?" he demanded, his voice shaking.
There was a collective intake of breath from the class. None of them, saved Harry's old friends, heard about Harry talk about Diggory. And because of Ron, they now know that he and Cedric were an item. 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's not an accident! It was murder!" Harry yelled. He could feel himself shaking. "Voldemort killed him and you know it!"
"ENOUGH!" Umbridge shrieked. "Enough. You will see me later, Mr. Potter. My office." She gave a little laugh. "Now, please turn to page five and read chapter one."
A hand grabbed Harry and dragged him down. "Don't!" Blaise said angrily under his breath. "You're being an idiot."
"But she—"
"She made you lose your temper," Blaise whispered. "Don't be an idiot, Harry!"
Harry huffed but spent the rest of the period glaring at Professor Umbridge, refusing to even open his book.
"YOU COMPLETE MORON!"
They were in the Slytherin common room after class, and Malfoy did not wait until the door closed before yelling at Harry.
"I'm the moron? Me? She insulted Cedric! She refuses to even admit that he was murdered right in front of my face!" Harry screamed. "Why shouldn't I be angry!?"
"Because you are so bloody stupid that you can't look past your nose, Potter!" Malfoy yelled. "Honestly why do you even wear glasses if you're still this blind!?"
"Fat laugh coming from you, Malfoy, I didn't see you do anything!"
"I was doing something! The same thing that you were supposed to be doing, keeping my mouth shut!" Malfoy yelled back. "And now look at where it got you, Detention. Are you happy with yourself, Potter? Do you feel proud of messing up in front of everyone?"
"At least I'm not a coward like you!" Harry shouted. "At least I don't sit back and allow that woman or anyone to keep going on like that!"
"At least I don't abandon my friends like your friends, Potter!" Malfoy fired back. Harry stared at him speechless. He stumbled but stayed standing as he stared at Malfoy, who smirked and continued on. "What? Did you think they would like you if you did that? Team up against her like you've always done the last four years? Well, you're wrong if that's what you're thinking, I saw the way they treat you, we all have! How does it feel, Potter, having nothing? Eh? None of your fans screaming your blood name you nutter!"
Harry snapped his wand at Malfoy, shooting a silent stinging hex that caused Malfoy to shout in pain. "You're right Malfoy," Harry said coldly. "I have fucking nothing. Are you happy now? All my old friends betrayed me, Ron outed me in front of the whole school, and now they think that I MURDERED MY BOYFRIEND! But you know what? At least I'm not a pompous, disgusting, cowardly arse like you." He took a few steps forward and aimed his wand at the blonde. "And if you even try to insult me or Cedric ever again, we'll see what happens when I hiss out the spells. Understand?" Harry hissed out the last word in Parseltongue and Malfoy nodded his head frantically.
"Good," Harry said, giving a tight smile. He pocketed his wand and took a step back. Looking from Malfoy to Blaise, Theo, and Daphnis, he said, "Sorry, but I would like to be alone for the rest of the day if it's alright."
The three nodded and Harry walked off. Once he was gone, Draco got up and brushed his robes, complaining, "What the hell is wrong with him?"
"You don't understand," Blaise said, shaking his head. "Though between me and you, it was kind of hot, wasn't it? So much power in such a small boy."
"Speak for yourself. He's just a lunatic missing his fans," Draco muttered angrily. "I swear the next time I'll put him in his place!" Blaise just hummed at him and shook his head. He patted Draco's back and moved to their usual fireplace, taking their seats.
"Whatever," Blaise said. "But you have to agree, things will be interesting with Harry around."