Take it in Stride

by BrokenCrw

After an awful summer in between his fourth and fifth years, Harry finally decides that he's done being meddled with. Every important witch or wizard he's met has tried to control him or manipulate him in some way. But he's decided to just take it in stride and go his own way. Rated M for language, alcohol, and some adult situations.

1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - The Toad

"It means that the Ministry is trying to meddle at Hogwarts", Hermione raised her eyebrows meaningfully as Ron and Harry looked at her across the now-empty dishes at the Gryffindor table.

Professor Delores Umbridge had just finished her opening remarks to the school after rudely interrupting Dumbeldore. The students whispered to each other, the sound filling the hall as Dumbledore lamely waved his arms to let them know they were dismissed.

Harry stared at Hermione and then snorted at her somber tone. Ron gaped at him and Herminone sniffed slightly.

"I don't think it's something to laugh about, Harry."

"You do realize that the Ministry has been trying to meddle with Hogwarts almost every year we've been here?"

She looked at him, confused, while Ron remembered the shiny new Prefect badge on his chest. He glanced around and pulled it free of his robes, dropped it in a pocket, and leaned toward Harry.

"What do you mean, mate? They haven't sent someone in as a teacher before."

Harry shook his head, "No, but do you remember the Triwizard Tournament last year?"

"But that was an international event! Of course the Ministry was involved", Hermione said in an indignant voice.

"Yeah, but they disrupted classes for most of the school with those events and all the press. How many second years do you think actually learned anything with all that going on?"

Ron guffawed, but Hermione shook her head, "I'm sure they learned a lot from watching the tasks."

"The first one, maybe? But the second one was underwater, and not only was the third one in a huge maze, but fake Moody was actively meddling with it. What did they learn? 'Don't turn your back on a professor?' or 'The Imperious is easy and solves all your problems?'"

Hermione opened her mouth, thought for a long second with it hanging open, and then closed it again.

"Right", Harry leaned on his elbows and counted off on one hand, "Fourth year, Triwizard distracts everyone. Third year we have a bunch of dementors here throwing quidditch games-", Ron made an angry sound in his throat, "-and attacking students. Second year the school governors throw Dumbeldore out on his rear just because one of those same governors planted a cursed object on a student."

"The governors aren't technically the Ministry…", Hermione tried, but trailed off as Harry rolled his eyes again.

"Right. They're just a bunch of powerful witches and wizards who just so happen to either work for the Ministry or bribe their way into running it. Face it, Hermione, pretty much no one has had a good, decent year of classes for the last three years running."

Hermione didn't want to admit it, he could see it in her eyes. Ron, for his part, had no trouble agreeing.

"Too right! If we ever have a year that's nothing but classes and exams I'll probably break my wand and go be a muggle. Reckon dad would forget to disown me if I get him a few rubber ducks?"

Hermione impatiently waived a hand in Ron's direction, very nearly smacking him in the nose, "It doesn't matter. They're definitely meddling this time and she's how they're doing it."

She pointed firmly at the staff table. Harry and Ron followed her pointing finger to see that the table was empty. Then they glanced around the great hall to find that they were the last three people in the huge room.

"Uh, Hermione", Ron tapped her on the shoulder as she glared at Harry, "Weren't you supposed to, dunno, prefect or something?"

Hermione looked around, realizing for the first time that she had let the entirety of Gryffindor - first years included - walk up to the tower without telling anyone the password.

"Ron! Why didn't you say something? You're a prefect, too."

Ron shook his head and pointed at his chest, "No badge, no responsibility. That's what Fred and George told me when I pinned the thing on the first time. I'm only a prefect during class hours and today is a weekend."

Hermione scowled at him and rushed out of the great hall to find the rest of the Gryffindors. Ron shrugged and looked at Harry, "So what do you think we do about that Umbridge woman?"

Harry shrugged back, "I'm not sure what to do. I'm just tired of being pushed around. How are we supposed to get any OWLs if we have to deal with her muck as well?"

Ron squinted at him, "You want to get a lot of OWLs?"

"Maybe", Harry shrugged, "Plus Hermione wants to get all of them and she'll probably implode if she has to deal with some Ministry stooge at the same time."

He stood up and started wandering upstairs. Ron just nodded sagely and followed.

The first day of classes had been horrible. Every professor was trying to make sure the OWL year lived up to its reputation, and Snape was his usual, greasy self. Ron and Harry were fuming as they sat down to lunch across from Hermione. Oddly, the girl looked serene.

"Hermione, is there a reason why you aren't panicking about OWLs already?" Harry asked her harshly.

She looked at him and grinned. Her cheeks pulled back and her eyes widened slightly. She spoke without breaking her grin or blinking, "I was having a bit of a breakdown after potions and Luna Lovegood offered to give me a cheering charm. I think I said yes."

Ron and Harry leaned back as she kept staring at them. Then Harry shrugged and settled in for lunch, "That's only like the fourth weirdest thing that girl has done."

Ron edged sideways along the bench seat, as if sitting directly across from Hermione bothered him in some way, and then dug in.

"It's alright, really. It's our first defense against the dark arts after lunch. Maybe the charm will last long enough for me to put up with our new teacher", Hermione mused through gritted, grinning teeth.

Harry tried not to shudder at the sound and made a mental note not to let Luna cast any spells on him. Ever.

By the end of lunch Hermione's grin had faded into a forced, polite smile that lightly offended anyone she made eye contact with. Harry and Ron tried to block her from being spotted as the three of them made their way to the defense class room.

Professor Umbridge was all ready for them with the desks arranged in neat, perfect rows and her name written on the blackboard in beautiful cursive. The three of them filed in, found seats near the back, and tried not to make eye contact.

Ron leaned over to Harry as the rest of the Gryffindors filed in, "Figures. It's always the nutters that have neat writing."

Harry snorted and glanced at Hermione's notes which were so perfect they looked to have been printed. Ron didn't notice.

When the whole class had found seats, Professor Umbridge cleared her throat and greeted them.

"Hem hem. Good afternoon, class."

She stood at the front of the classroom as if waiting for something. Eventually a few students muttered out a half-hearted greeting.

"Oh no, that won't do. When I say hello I expect the whole class to respond clearly and politely. Let's try again, shall we? Good afternoon, class."

Most of the class mumbled out "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge" but Harry and Ron were too busy looking at Hermione. The cheering charm still lingered but now her eye was twitching and she was bouncing slightly in her seat.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no. That's not any better", Umbridge shook her head and walked over to her desk, "I'll give you one more chance before I start punishing such bad behavior. Good afternoon, class."

Before anyone could respond, Hermione shot to her feet and screamed in a voice full of false cheer, "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge!"

The entire class stared at her. Hermione's smile faded as the last of the charm left her and she sank slowly into her seat and stared very hard at the desk in front of her.

Umbridge seemed taken aback. She stared at Hermione - like everyone else was - and finally cleared her throat and started the lesson.

"Hem hem. It appears to me, after a careful and thorough study of what this class has learned over the last four years, that you are woefully behind the schedule of the Ministry-approved curriculum."

She took a few small steps behind her desk and leafed through a stack of parchment, "It appears that you have learned almost none of the theory behind Defense Against the Dark Arts, in favor of lessons on…"

She paused for a moment, having finally found the parchment she was looking for, "How to repel vampires, how to write a best-selling autobiography, a variety of minor nuisance creatures, and how to be a paranoid old git. If you'll pardon the expression."

Dean Thomas interrupted in what Harry supposed was a helpful tone, "Professor, we also learned what the Imperious curse feels like."

Umbridge stopped and stared at him over the top of her parchment for a long moment. Finally she broke the silence.

"Yes, I see. In the future you will raise your hand in my class. It appears to me that your schooling has been exceptionally lax and left in the hands of incompetents, dark wizards, and half-breeds. From what I see here your only decent professor has been the late Mr. Quirrel in your first year, but even he seemed to have an obsession with dark creatures."

Hermione still had her head bowed. Ron grumbled and muttered something that sounded like "right about that Lockhart git", but Harry wasn't listening. He lifted one hand lazily into the air and waited for Umbridge to notice him. She spotted him almost immediately - as if the witch had been keeping an eye on him in particular.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Her voice dripped with sickly-sweet pleasantness.

"If that's our curriculum, then which one are you?"

Her false smile dropped into a look of confusion, "What do you mean, Mr. Potter?"

Harry let his hand drop and leaned back in his chair, "I was just asking, professor. Are you incompetent, dark, or a half-breed? Or just obsessed with dark creatures?"

Umbridge's eyes flashed with a sort of triumph and she simpered, "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter. For insulting a member of staff."

Harry left his hand in the air, "Really? I thought that it couldn't be an insult since you just said those things about our previous professors."

Umbridge breathed hard through her nose but didn't seem to know what to say. Finally she turned back to the rest of the class, "Wands away, today. Quills and parchment out. We will be studying basic defense theory from your textbook. Start by copying chapter one in its entirety. You will not need to speak."

There was a barely-audible groan and a ruffle as the class dug through their bags and pulled out copies of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard. Harry and Ron slammed their copies down on their desks, one after the other, and started flipping through to the beginning of the first chapter. Hermione sat still, fingers laced together in front of her.

Umbridge walked around the front of the classroom, surveying the class. She stopped when she saw Hermione and stalked through the rows of desks toward where she, Harry, and Ron were sitting.

Hermione looked up with a polite smile on her face - not forced by the cheering charm anymore, but just as infuriating.

"Did you not hear me, miss…?"

"Granger, professor. Hermione Granger."

Umbridge smiled, "Ah, of course. And why are you not following directions? I told you to take out your book and copy down the first chapter."

"Oh, you see. I don't have the textbook."

The entire class was silent. Everyone stared at Hermione in shock. Ron looked pale and scooted his chair across the floor with a loud squawk so that Harry was in between him and Hermione.

Umbridge blinked her large, wide eyes a few times, nonplussed, "Why do you not have the book? It was on the required list of supplies in your letter, was it not?"

Hermione bobbed her head, the same smile plastered in place, "Of course it was, professor. But when I found it at Flourish and Blotts I skimmed through it and realized that it was completely useless. I assumed it must have been mistakenly placed on the list."

Harry, who had been watching Umbridge, turned to look at Hermione with a bit more respect. Umbridge gaped, looking even more like a toad with her mouth hanging open, before finally finding her voice.

"I assure you, Miss Granger, that better witches and wizards than you have reviewed Slinkhard's work and decided it aligns perfectly with Ministry curriculum."

Hermione nodded her head again, "Oh, I'm certain that it does. But that doesn't make it useful. There isn't a single casting diagram or incantation in the whole thing."

Umbridge snapped her mouth shut and clenched her jaw, "And why would there be? This course is a study of the theory of defense, not the practical application. You won't need any silly wand-waving or incantations."

Seamus Finnegan, disbelief filling his voice, spoke up from the front of the room, "What? We won't be learning anything?"

Umbridge spun to face him and snapped, "Of course you will be learning. Just not how to use any of the dangerous spells."

Parvati Patil spoke next, causing Umbridge to swivel on the spot again, "None? But don't the OWLs have a practical portion? How are we supposed to pass them if we can't practice any spells?"

Umbridge opened her mouth to answer, but Hermione beat her to it, "You won't, Parvati. The only way to learn a new spell is practice. Every educator knows that."

Parvati groaned and buried her head in her hands, most of the class did the same. Umbridge spun back to Hermione and spat, "Enough! I will not have you telling lies to my class! Ten points from Gryffindor, and if you so much as speak again it will be fifty. Have I made myself clear?"

Hermione opened her mouth, then snapped it shut with a click and just nodded. Umbridge took a few calming breaths and turned back to address the class.

"It is the belief of the Ministry that learning dangerous magic is more likely to outfit a criminal than protect the innocent. We have aurors, we have the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We do not need to practice defending ourselves because we do not have to defend ourselves. No one is going to attack you - especially not in my classroom."

She tittered a small, girlish laugh, "Now, as I said, copy down-"

Harry interrupted her, arm stuck into the air behind her back, "What about Voldemort?"

There was an audible gasp around the room. All eyes turned to Harry. Umbridge slowly turned around. The look on her face reminded Harry of a cat that had just caught a mouse.

"What was that, Mr Potter?"

"What if Voldemort or one of his lot attack us? I could have done with some more defensive spells when I fought him off last June."

Harry tried to ignore the series of gasps and whispers that his statement produced. He let his hand hang in the air and stared Umbridge in the face. The woman still looked quite happy about something.

"Detention, Mr Potter. For telling such obvious and insane lies."

Harry let his arm drop and shrugged, "You don't have to like it for it to be true, professor. He is back and giving me detention scrubbing out chamber pots or wandering around the Forbidden Forest won't change that."

Umbridge's nostrils flared, but her smile stayed fixed to her face. She turned and walked back up to the front desk with tiny, bouncing steps. She pulled a fresh piece of parchment off of a stack, scribbled something on it, and then folded it up and tapped it with her wand.

"Mr Potter, take this note to Professor McGonagall. You may be excused from the rest of the class period."

Harry gathered up his things and walked up to the front of the room, making eye contact with other students as he passed and grinning at them. Dean and Seamus grinned back, Lavender Brown and Parvati giggled. Neville looked like he might faint. He took the note from Umbridge and didn't look back as he walked out of the classroom.

Some time later, Harry knocked on the door of Professor McGonagall's office.

"Enter!"

He swung the door open and stepped inside. Harry had his bag slung over his shoulder and he was balancing a goblet of pumpkin juice and a round tin on one hand. He closed the door, grabbed the tin with his free hand, and held it out toward McGonagall.

"Biscuit?"

The austere professor set down her quill and stared at him, "Potter?"

Harry shrugged and set the tin down on the edge of the desk, taking a sip from his pumpkin juice, and fished a folded piece of parchment out of his pocket, "I was sent to give you this."

She took the folded note and peeled it open. She glanced over it, her eyes widened, and she read through it again.

"Mr Potter, this note is from almost an hour ago. Surely the defense classroom isn't that far away?"

Harry shook his head as he selected a biscuit from the tin, "Oh, no. I'm afraid I got a little lost on the way and ended up in the kitchens somehow. You know how the house elves can be - talk, talk, talk.."

McGonagall eyed him, "Did you really insult and lie to Professor Umbridge? Call her a-", she looked back to the note, "-Half-breed?"

"Oh, is that the one that offended her? Odd."

She looked up at him sharply. Harry took a sip of juice so that the goblet would block her gaze.

"Mr Potter, this note says that you have been given detention with Professor Umbridge every night this week. You are to report to her classroom just after dinner."

Harry shrugged, "I was just repeating what she said. Not sure why she would get so mad about it. Do you think that Umbridge isn't pureblood?"

He mostly said it to himself, but McGonagall snorted before remembering she was with a student.

"Regardless, Potter. You should try to keep a lower profile. The Ministry would love nothing better than to see you expelled from Hogwarts. Don't you understand that?"

Harry set the empty goblet down next to the tin of biscuits and made a big show of selecting one, "Professor, do you really think that the headmaster would expel me?"

She stared at him, but Harry refused to look at her as he continued, "Not because I'm famous or anything. But Voldemort is back and he's coming after me - he always does - and I'm much safer inside Hogwarts."

McGonagall glared at him, then checked the time and sighed. She waved her wand and the door swung shut. Then she reached across to select a biscuit from the tin with one hand while sliding one drawer of her desk open with the other.

"Potter, how old are you this year?"

"Uh, fifteen, Professor", he answered, confused.

"Sixteen? Already? Well, time does fly", she set a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses down on the desk between them, "Now, tell me where you found these biscuits."

Harry sat down to dinner with Ron and Hermione. It was the first time he had seen them all afternoon and he grinned at them with a tear in his eye, "Man, I love you guys. You're the best friends a guy could have."

Hermione stared at him, "Harry? Are you drunk?"

Her voice was a sharp whisper, horrified, full of accusation. Harry just tapped the side of his nose and winked at her.

"Of course not. I've just had some fortifying tonic, is all, while discussing my academic future."

Ron slid a plate of food in front of him, "Well if you don't want to regret that fortifying tonic in the morning you should have something to eat."

Harry dug in, enjoying every bite more than he had ever enjoyed an evening meal. Hermione still seemed scandalized, Ron took it in stride.

"What was Umbridge's note about, anyway?", Ron said through mouthfuls of mashed potatoes.

Harry shrugged, "Detention every day of the week."

Hermione gasped, "But then you won't have any time to study for your OWLs!"

Ron glanced at her, "It's only this week, Hermione. He can study the rest of the term."

She shushed him and leaned toward Harry to whisper to him, "Is that why you're drunk?"

Harry shook his head, "Oh, no. I'm drunk because I brought McGonagall a tin of biscuits. And I'm not drunk."

She stared at him. Ron stared at him. Next to them, Ginny and Neville stared at him. Harry realized he might have said that a little too loudly.

"Anyway, I'm not doing the detentions so I'll have time", he changed the subject. Neville and Ginny leaned closer to hear what they were talking about.

"You mean Professor McGonagall talked to Professor Umbridge?" Hermione asked, "I'm surprised she did that for you."

Harry shook his head, "Oh, no. McGonagall said that each teacher is allowed their own discretion when it comes to handing out punishment. I just decided not to go."