Chapter 9

"... and if I hear anyone mention the 'Theory of Defense Against the Dark Arts' again I'll dock points," Harry said half-heartily. "We had enough of that with Umbridge."

Most of the fifth-years laughed and filed out of the room as he packed away his lesson plans and took to the steps up to his office. Hedwig hooted annoyingly at a barn owl that had invaded her master's domain and made itself to home on his desk, clutching an envelope in it's beak.

After Harry pulled it away it flew off. He looked at the back to see who the addressee was and found a Ministry seal.

Upon opening the letter he was somewhat amused.

Dear Professor Potter,

Pursuant to Article 7 Subsection 3 Paragraph 17:

All Enchanters must be registered with the Improper

Use of Magic office no later than eight months after completion of training.

As you are in violation of Article 7 you are hereby notified that unless you immediately register you will be deemed in contempt of Ministry law and found guilty with fines and/or sentences applied.

Fines range no more than 5000 Galleons and sentences no more than one year in Azkaban Prison.

We expect your presence at the Ministry within the hour. Current time is 9:00 a.m.

Sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

"Hedwig, I've got a message for you."

Harry took a blank piece of parchment and scribbled a return letter.

Dear Hopkirk,

I see Fudge is gone but not forgotten.

Your owl is slow as a flobberworm in arriving, seeing as it is 11:00, and I was never informed of my requirement to register. So you may wait until this weekend where I will show up at my leisure or you can try to send someone to apprehend me at Hogwarts. You might want to send several someones as I will be armed and ready.

Don't forget to tell them that the only person St. Mungo's was able to find to take my Popping Boil Curse off of Bellatrix Lestrange, died this summer due to an illness.

Please give Minister Shaklebolt my best regards as I will be speaking to him about your threats upon my arrival.

Very Insincerely,

Harry Potter

Professor

Head of House, Gryffindor

Order of Merlin First Class

(For defeating Voldemort in wand to wand combat, just in case you've forgotten.)

"You think all the titles are too much, Hedwig?"

The snowy owl hooted negatively.

"Nah, I didn't think so."

*******************

"You didn't!" exclaimed Hermione as she was spooning potatoes onto her plate.

Harry cut into his smoked salmon. "I've hated that office ever since our second year when they blamed me for Dobby dropping that pudding at the Dursley's. Talk about a totally worthless law. And a waste of money, actually paying someone to be that annoying"

"They do serve a purpose, Harry. Imagine if students that didn't know what they were doing starting using magic anywhere they wanted."

He shook his head and swallow the fish. "Having a qualified Witch or Wizard observing us as we practice or train during the summer is against the law. They would be there to watch over us. I never saw what the big deal was with using magic at the Burrow, for instance."

She nodded. "You may have a point there, but what if they decide to take you up on your offer and send twenty Auror's here to take you back."

He stopped mid-way in taking another bite. "Um ... So you're saying that I might have overreacted?"

She squinted her eyes and held her hand up, pinching her fingers together. "Maybe a tad."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's no big deal, they deserve it."

Hermione looked confused. Her eyebrows knitted in observance of her husband. "Harry, what has gotten into you lately?"

"Hmm?"

"It's like you've become a lot more aggressive."

He shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

She started ticking off her fingers. "I heard about your little practical assault on your seventh-years, taking on twenty-one students at once in front of half the school, coming right out and daring the Ministry to send a gaggle of Auror's after you, and if I didn't know any better I'd think you'd be excited if they actually did show up to take you in."

"I think you're make something out of nothing, Hermione. I was just hacked off at being sent another stupid letter saying I was gonna have my wand snapped or be thrown in front of the Wizengamot for something that is none of their bleedin' business."

He looked down at his plate realizing her had just lost his appetite. "I'm not hungry anymore."

Hermione placed her hand on his forearm. "Harry, I'm not trying to make you angry. I'm just concerned about you."

"I better get going. I've got some fourth-years to torture."

He rose from his seat.

"Harry, sit down and lets talk about this, please."

He sighed and looked defeated. "I'm tired, Hermione. It's been a long couple of days, okay."

She pursed her lips and looked worried. "Go rest for a bit." Grabbing his hand before he turned away she said, "Harry ... I love you."

A smile came to his face, and it was gone just as fast. "I know. I love you too."

He bent down and pecked her cheek before stepping off the dais and strode between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables to exit the Great Hall. Outside the doors, he closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, sighing once again.

"Professor Potter."

Harry opened his eyes to see a first year Gryffindor in front of him. "Yes, um ... Julie, is it?"

She smiled slightly at his recognition of her name. "Yes, Sir." She looked away for a moment. "Sir, I ... that is."

Harry saw concern or nervousness about her demeanor. "Julie, I was about to step outside and get a breath of fresh air. Would you like to join me?"

Her eyes lightened. "Yes, Sir. Thank you."

As they opened the door a cool autumn breeze brew back his robes and sent the smell of the forest into his face. He took a deep breath and blew it out, relaxing somewhat.

"Good day for Quidditch," he said.

"Yes, Sir," responded Julie.

"What's on your mind?"

"I talked to Ginny, Sir."

Harry took a couple of steps down the steps and turned around so that he was on a more even footing with the first-year. "Is something wrong, Julie?"

"Sort of, Sir. See there's this fourth-year boy, a Slytherin."

"Who?"

"Marcus Evertum."

Julie's face was becoming red and she looked very uncomfortable.

"I can't help unless I know what it is he did."

Her hands came together and twitched. "Do you know what a Mudblood is, Sir?"

Harry felt his teeth gnash together. "Yes, It's a term used to make people of Muggle parentage feel less than what they are. The people who use this term are usually ignorant and mostly lacking in any redeemable quality."

She smirked, but still twittered with her fingers. "He made it sound so ..."

"Dirty?" he offered.

"Yes, Sir."

"Julie, did you know some of the greatest Wizards and Witches have been born to Muggle parents?"

She looked up, hopefully. "No, Sir."

He smiled softly back at her. "Did you know that my mother and my wife were born to Muggle parents?"

Her eyes widened. "Mrs. Potter? But wasn't she top of her class?"

Harry nodded. "Scored Outstanding on all of her N.E.W.T.'s"

"Wow!"

"Yeah." He leaned in so that it seemed like he was telling a secret. "And just between you and me ... There aren't that many purebloods left at least not enough where they all aren't related to each other in some way."

She didn't seem to understand, so Harry clarified. "The only way to keep being a Pureblood usually means they have to marry their own cousins."

A look of disgust came over her face. "EEeewwww!"

He squinched up his face like he had just eaten something very sour and nodded with her assessment. "So, I tend to think that being a 'Mudblood' is a good thing if you ask me."

"Me too. Ugh."

Harry nodded and stood back up straight. "Next time he says something like that, you think about what I just told you and laugh at him and what he has to do in the future." He thought on it for a moment. "And I personally wouldn't take away any points if you threw it back in his face."

She brightened at the thought and almost clapped her hands in response. "Thank you Professor Potter! Oh, I have to go tell Cynthia! Bye, Sir."

"Bye, Julie," he waved.

The time on his watch showed his fourth-year class was about to convene, and he thought about Marcus Evertum. Taking one more breath of fresh air he strode inside and made his way, with determination to the Defense classroom.

"Evertum, I thought a pureblood such as yourself would have been more prepared for class than this," Harry commented with disappointment. "Twenty points from Slytherin, I think."

"But, Sir ..." he said as his face paled.

"It's a simple shield spell, Evertum." And then to the class. "Are there any Muggleborn's in the class today?"

At least a quarter of the class raised their hands self-consciously.

Harry swatted the response away. "Come now. Muggleborn's and Halfblood's, raise your hands."

Almost three-quarters acknowledged him this time. This lighted his face. "Very good. And how many of you plan on marrying your cousins when you come of age?"

There were a couple of snickers and one outright laugh from the back of the class, but no takers to his question.

"Come on, there has to be someone that wants to marry their cousin ... no?"

He shrugged. "I assume the rest of you are Pureblood, hmm?"

Harry grabbed Marcus' arm and raised his hand for him. "Pureblood right here. Pure as the driven snow. Not a Muggleborn or Half-blood anywhere in that bloodline; I can tell you that right now."

He looked, with empathy, back down at Marcus. "Guess we know who'll you'll be marrying in the future. Can't mess up that bloodline can we?"

Marcus was now as red as the apple that Harry had for breakfast that morning. He took this time to lean down so that only the Slytherin could hear him. "If I hear about you taunting any of my Gryffindor's or any other student for that matter about their proud heritage I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?"

The color drained away from Marcus' face and he nodded.

"I didn't hear you, Evertum."

"Yes, Sir."

Harry smiled and slapped him on the back. "Wonderful. Just peachy. Glad we got that cleared up."

He straightened back up. "Return to your seat."

Harry turned to the lectern and leaned heavily on it. "Simple prejudice. Can anyone tell me the last instance this got a number of people killed?"

"Killed, Sir?" a Hufflepuff girl in the front row asked.

"Killed, yes. In fact it started a war or ten here and there over the last century.

Silence ruled the room.

"I know Professor Binns is somewhat boring, but at some of you should have managed to stay awake a time or two in his class for the last three years?"

Still there was nobody to give an answer. He didn't know if it was because they truly didn't know or were just scared to say something.

"Do the names Hindissburg, or Fatherton mean anything to anyone? No .. how about Grindelwald? Voldemort?"

He saw a couple of people flinch at the mention of Voldemort's name.

"All of them had a simple prejudice against people they thought were beneath them. The funny part about them though was they were all born of what they hated most. Voldemort was a Half-blood, Grindelwald was a Muggleborn. Why am I telling you about this? Two feet of parchment on two of the four Dark Lords I just mentioned by Monday, and why their stupid prejudices got them where they are today."

He slammed his notes and stormed away. "Dismissed."