I'M ALIVE! AND I'M SANE! THANK YOU, LADY!
Whew! I know it's been a long time between updates, but there are several very good reasons for this.
First of all, my best friend from Alabama was coming to stay with us for two weeks, and the week before that we had to give the house the cleaning of its existence. Then, after she left, I had three days to write a four-page essay on 'The Man in the Iron Mask' for a summer English assignment. Then we left for Detroit for two weeks, during which I had to go to a family reunion, in Canada, comprised of over 400 people from my paternal grandmother's side of the family. And we had to get up before 5 am for both flights! And now I have to write another essay for History which is already past its due date because it was assigned while we were in Detroit!
I am skipping out on that assignment to write this, and I hope you're all happy.
Anyway, I've given this entire fic a minor overhaul, which may or may not happen frequently, depending on how often I get new ideas.
moonypadfoot: The prophecy will probably come in sometime later. If it doesn't, I'll post it in an author's note somewhere. Thank you so much. Are you the only one still reading this fic? If so, I will be very sad. Please review, everyone!
This chapter will kind of follow events in OotP, but I tried not to put in too much, only the stuff that I thought relevant.
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Fourth Scene: Different Points of View
The following day, Gryffindors and Slytherins had Potions together. When Snape swept into the classroom, the usual immediate silence fell. Contradictory to his usual habit, he repeated his speech from first year, this time concentrating on Ryo. The African boy however, answered all of his questions correctly. With an ever-so-slight sneer on his face, Snape then began talking about the O.W.L.s, saying that he expected an Acceptable at the very least from all of his students, and that he only took the very highest scores into his N.E.W.T. class. He then assigned them the Draught of Peace, and left them to their own devices.
As had been predicted, it was a difficult and fiddly potion that needed complete concentration. Ten minutes before the end of class, Harry's potion was belching smoke, Ron's was spitting green sparks, and even Hermione's potion was off-color. The five transfer students had finished early and were currently playing a game of cards. Snape pounced on them.
"Why are you playing a game instead of following directions?"
Amamiya looked up at him innocently. "We have already completed the potion and cleaned our work area. This potion was taught to us several years ago." And it was true. Five perfectly done, softly misting potions sat in five cauldrons on their desks. They were immediately subjected to a thorough examination, but Snape apparently could not find anything to criticize. As soon as the bell rang, the class fled.
§§§
To everyone's astonishment, the transfer students immediately congregated in the middle of the Hall. After a short discussion, several of them produced wands and pointed them at the floor. A small, low table took shape, loaded with all kinds of strange-looking foods. Several cushions also appeared, and were promptly sat upon. The new kids began eating, taking no notice of the fact that everyone in the Hall was staring at them.
Harry and his friends sat down at their table and joined the whispered discussion over how to reclaim their new comrades. After several minutes, during which a multilingual conversation had evolved at the inter-House table, each House sent a small delegation to bring back the new students that obviously did not know the rules. Each group stopped a few feet away, glaring at each other.
The new kids looked up politely. Robin was the first to speak. "Can we help you?"
"Yeah." Marcus Flint replied. "You can help us by going back to your own tables where you belong." There were noises of assent.
Yuki frowned. "At Zue-Chia, my old school, we were allowed to sit wherever we wanted to. Is it different here?"
"Apparently one is expected to eat with their 'House.' They say that they have been trying to bring the 'Houses' together for generations. If these are the kinds of rules that they enforce, then I must express my skepticism." Raven's voice was quiet.
"If students are expected to remain segregated, then it is very odd indeed that they claim to be trying to end such prejudices. From their actions, I would have thought that they encouraged it." Duo scowled.
"That's just the way things are. Now go back to your tables." Ernie MacMillan sounded mildly disturbed.
"No, I don't think that we will. I am in Slytherin, but one of my favorite cousins is in Gryffindor. According to you, I should automatically hate him, even though he was the one who let me cry on his shoulder when my mother died." Rhianna looked highly annoyed.
"It's not like you've offered any kind of valid reasons for us to stay away from each other. Gryffindors are supposed to hate Slytherins because Slytherins are supposed to be evil. Rhia and Raven are good people, and just because they are cunning and ambitious does not make them evil. It just means that they think about things before they do them." Heero was quickly becoming tired of the entire conversation.
"Look, we're all strangers in a strange land here. We figure that we should stick together. Give us a valid reason to hate each others' guts and we'll do that. Until then, I think we're staying together." Kyo went back to eating with the general attitude of 'that's that.'
Seiji smiled. "Thank you for your concern."
They went back to eating, ignoring the rest of the Hall. Again.
§§§
The fifth-year Gryffindors entered the Defense classroom warily. Professor Umbridge had been exceedingly boring at the feast, and no one knew how strict she would be.
The lesson did not have a promising start. The first thing that she did was tell them to put away their wands and get out their writing quills. This was promptly followed by dismay on her part when she saw what the foreign students were writing with.
"I said quills, dear, not Muggle pens."
Ryo looked up at her with a very wide-eyed, innocent expression. "We don't have any quills, ma'am. All of our teachers didn't care what we used as long as we wrote down everything that they said."
"It may be that way in foreign schools, dear, but here at Hogwarts, you are expected to use quills." The emphasis put on the word 'foreign' made it clear that what she meant was 'inferior.' As one, three pairs of eyes narrowed. Their response, when it came, was saccharine-sweet, but it contained a small barb.
"We'll pick some up during the next village trip, Professor."
She looked at them, beady-eyed, for a moment, but their faces were as serene as the Buddha's. Since she could not detect outward malice, she continued her small lecture about the 'proper' uses of defensive magic. She then told them to take out their textbooks and read the first chapter.
At this point, Hermione stunned the entire class by disobeying the teacher. She raised her hand to ask a question.
"Professor Umbridge?"
"Yes, dear?"
"I have a question about the course aims."
"I believe that I just explained them, dear." Professor Umbridge's voice was determinedly sweet.
"But Professor, you didn't say anything about using defensive spells."
A murmur went through the class as they realized that she was right. Hermione was always right.
"Do you expect to be attacked in my class, Ms.—"
"Granger, Professor. But surely we have to be prepared for the eventual possibility—"
"Ms. Granger, you are hardly a Ministry-trained expert, so I will overlook your comment. You will be learning defense in a safe, completely risk-free way, and—"
"What's the use of th—" Harry suddenly received a very sharp kick to the shin, which shut him up. He looked in the direction the kick had come from to find Robin Knight giving him a very sharp glare. He lowered his eyes to a piece of paper on the edge of his desk, then raised them. Harry looked over at it.
Don't antagonize her, idiot! She has far too much influence, and she'll be spying on you anyway. Don't give her more ammunition!
All of the new kids were glaring at him. Heero nudged a scrap of paper in his direction.
It's a political move. Your Minister seems determined to discredit you and the old coot. He's sent her to dig up proof. The practical thing to do would be to smile, nod, and quietly subvert her behind her back.
The class continued reading possibly the most boring textbook on the face of the Earth.
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