Chapter Thirteen

The next morning at breakfast Hermione was going over in her head what kind of titles to look for in search of the article Percy had mentioned the night before in his letter. This proved to be completely pointless when the owl delivered the Daily Prophet. It had barely cleared the top of the milk jug when she let out a gasp and immediately flattened the newspaper. Revealing to all the large photograph of Dolores Umbridge, who was smiling widely and blinking slowly at them from just underneath the headline:

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM

DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"

"'High Inquisitor'?" said Harry darkly, his half-eaten bit of toast slipping from his fingers. "What does that mean?"

Hermione began to read the article aloud:

"In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"'The Minister has been growing uneasy about the goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,' said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. 'He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.'

"This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select and appropriate person.

"'That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,' said Weasley last night. 'Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she's been an immediate success —"

"She's been a WHAT?" said Harry loudly.

"Wait, there's more," said Hermione grimly.

" '—an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts.'

"It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor.'

" 'This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the "falling standards" at Hogwarts,' said Weasley. 'The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.'

"This Ministry new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.

" 'I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,' said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. 'Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.'

"Among those 'eccentric decisions' are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

"Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts.

" 'I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence,' said a Ministry insider last night.

"Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts.

" 'Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office,' said Madam Marchbanks. "This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.' (For a full account of Madam Marchbanks' alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17)."

Hermione finished reading and looked across the table at Harry and Ron.

"So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this 'Educational Decree' and forced her on us! And now he's given her the power to inspect other teachers!" Hermione was breathing fast and her eyes were very bright. "I can't believe this. It's outrageous…."

"I know it is," said Harry, whose right hand was clenching the tabletop.

But a grin slowly spread across Ron's face.

"What?" said Hermione and Harry together, staring at him.

"Oh, I can't wait to see McGonagall inspected," said Ron happily. "Umbridge won't know what hit her."

Realizing what time it was Hermione jumped up and said, "Well, come on we'd better get going, if she's inspecting Binns's class we don't want to be late…."

But Professor Umbridge was not inspecting their History of Magic lesson, which was just as dull as the previous Monday, nor was she in Snape's dungeon when they arrived for double Potions, where Hermione's moonstone essay was handed back to her with a large, spiky black E scrawled in the upper corner.

"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work on your O.W.L," said Snape with a smirk as he swept among them, passing back their homework. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination."

Snape reached the front of the class and turned on his heel to face them.

"The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or shall I have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get D's."

He smirked as Malfoy sniggered and said a carrying whisper, "Some people got D's? Ha!"

Hermione, curious to see what Harry got, turned and tried to make out the letter in the corner of his paper. But before she could figure it out he had slid it into his bag.

Hermione followed the instructions on the board precisely, and was rewarded with a clear turquoise Strengthening Solution. And she placed her flask of it to Professor Snape's desk at the end of the lesson.

"Well, that wasn't as bad as last week, was it?" said Hermione, as they climbed the steps out of the dungeon and made their way across the entrance hall toward lunch. "And the homework didn't go too badly either, did it?"

Since neither Ron or Harry responded, she continued on, "I mean, all right. I didn't expect the top grade, not if he's marking to O.W.L. standard, but a pass is quite encouraging at this stage, wouldn't you say?"

Harry made some kind of random noise in his throat.

"Of course, a lot can happen between now and the exam, we've got plenty of time to improve, but the grades we're getting now are a sort of baseline, aren't they? Something we can build on…"

'Detail ready!'

Seven rifles pointed up towards the sky. Four others pointed at two all ready life less bodies.

'Aim!'

Taps began playing.

'Fire!'

Eleven shots rang out through the air.

'Recover arms!'

Another seven shots sounded, followed seconds later by a second volley into the sky.

'Sergeant, time to get those bodies of the wall. Get 'em prepped for burial and then put 'em in the caskets and we'll ship 'em home,' said Kit as he turned away from the firing line.

He hated that he had to do it, but it was necessary. Both of them were killed by Death Eaters sometime during the night and he had to make it look like they'd died fighting a non-wizard enemy for the folks back home. But that was the easy part. The difficult part was about to begin.

Writing the letters to their parents was the most difficult part of being the CO. It was bad enough when they died in combat between muggle forces, but when you add in the fact that they're fighting a secret war that only the wizarding world knows about makes it even worse, and even then most of the wizarding world doesn't want Voldemort to be back so that adds another level of deception needed in the letters.

Sitting down in his chair he leaned back and rested his neck. Since they were now officially at war no one went anywhere, or did anything without a helmet on. Lifting his head off the back of the chair he turned to the typewriter that sat off to the side on the desk in front of him. Reaching over he pulled it over to where it sat directly in front of him. Inserting a sheet of paper into the back he began the letter.

Dear Sir or Madam,

I regret to inform you that your son, Private First Class Robert A. Stillwell, was killed in action. The full details of his death are classified, but I can assure you that PFC Stillwell died doing his duty and performing, as a soldier should. He died a hero in the service of his country, and his many sacrifices will not be forgotten by the comrades who he has left behind.

And though no words of mine can aswage the anguish brought on by his death and that the world is a lesser place without him, but I am confident that he is with God and the Angels in heaven and it has become a better place because of him. And we can all look forward to meeting him again in the next life.

Yours very sincerely and respectfully,

Major General Kitoriav Lightningstrider

United States Army SOCOM

Pulling out the letter he placed it upon the desk and signed his name under the last line. Pushing it off to the side he began the same letter again for the other soldier who was killed. Changing only the name.

When he finished the second letter he signed it, placed it on top of the other one and then picked the two up walked outside of the tent and turned to one of the two guards standing outside.

'See to it that these make it out with the rest of the mail.'

'Yes, sir!'

Kit was about to turn to reenter the tent when he heard Dekker call out his name. 'Kit!'

Turning to face him Kit asked, 'What's up?'

'Care of Magical Creatures is about to being.'

'Roger that, get everyone on alert I want all birds on alert five, and I want everyone to be ready to roll out on a moments notice.'

'Yes, sir. Oh, and sir.'

'Yes?'

'Umbridge is inspecting Care of Magical Creatures.'

'Great. Let's hope nothing happens and we are going to roll out just to be sure.'

'Roger that sir.'

Minutes later they sat inside the Blackhawk which was silent and would not be detected due to the disillusionment charms placed on it, and every soldier inside the Blackhawk was also disillusioned.

'Coming up on the target area now sir,' said one of the pilots.

Sure enough Kit saw the forms of students walking down to their lesson from the castle. Spotting a small clump of three walking one had dark black hair, another brown and one was bright red.

'Pilot, can you see anyone on the Astronomy tower. If not get us close enough so I can put a sniper team up there.'

'Roger that sir.'

As they were walking down to Care of Magical Creatures Hermione noticed a slight breeze was in the air, but when it ended abruptly she noticed that the breeze wasn't natural since none of the trees to the Dark Forest were swaying in the breeze. Hermione remembered something Kit had told her once before about the workings of helicopters and how the rotors produce a "down wash" which if high enough will feel like nothing more than a slight breeze.

Then remembering Sirius's words of warning from the night before she knew that helicopters were nearby just waiting for something to happen. Meanwhile Harry and Ron were talking back and forth about how great Transfiguration was because Professor Umbridge was inspecting McGonagall. Even with Harry landing himself into another weeks worth of detentions with Umbridge over a comment about Voldemort sticking out of Professor Quirrell's head. Which was followed by a thorough chewing out by Angelina and then Professor McGonagall taking away five points from Gryffindor because Harry got landed in another detention, she guessed it only made it even better, seeing Professor McGonagall get even somewhat with Umbridge, that Harry got to experience that at least once before he was to go to detention the rest of the week.

But she can't remained focused on things of the past she must now look to this lesson and try and keep Harry from getting any more detention, and keep anything from happening that would give Kit a reason to put a few bullets in anyone's head.

Sitting inside the Blackhawk Kit watched Umbridge roam throughout the class occasionally stopping to ask a question. And every time she even so much as glanced in the direction of Hermione, Kit would begin to say quietly to himself, 'Come on, just give me one hint of a reason. Come on Umbridge you know you want to. Just give me a reason. Please?'

Watching through the binoculars she saw Umbridge turn and say something to Harry, and judging on the way Ron and Hermione's demeanor changed he had just landed him in another night's detention.

Kit put the binoculars down as the class slowly began their walk back to the castle he sat up and said, 'Well can't always have something interesting happen everyday now can you? Wait until they're all in the castle and then we'll extract the sniper teams.'

'Roger that.'

Hermione and Ron sat chatting quietly in the now deserted common room. The only sound to be heard, other than their talking, was the crackling of the fire and the occasional sloshing sound of the murtlap essence made when one of them moved slightly or when Crookshanks jumped either out of or into either of their laps. Finally at around midnight the portrait door opened up and in came Harry with a blood stained scarf wrapped around his hand.

When he got closer to where they were sitting Hermione said anxiously, "Here soak your hand in that, it's a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, it should help."

Hermione could visibly see the relief spreading across Harry's face when he placed his hand in the bowl. Crookshanks curled around his legs and then jumped into his lap purring loudly.

Scratching behind Crookshanks's ears with his left hand Harry said, "Thanks."

"I still reckon you should complain about this," said Ron in a low voice.

"No," said Harry flatly.

"McGonagall would go nuts if she knew —"

"Yeah, she probably would," said Harry dully. "And how long d'you reckon it'd take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?"

Ron opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out and after a moment he closed it again in a defeated sort of way.

"She's an awful woman," said Hermione quietly. "Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in… we've got to do something about her."

"I suggested poison," said Ron grimly.

"No…. and besides if I wanted Umbridge dead I could have it done in a spectacular display of force, but —"

"Bloody hell then Hermione! Then why haven't you done it yet?" said Ron.

"Honestly Ron, anyway, I mean something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and how we're not going to learn any defense from her at all," said Hermione completing her thought.

"Well, what can we do about that?" said Ron, yawning. "'S too late, isn't it? She got the job, and she's here to stay, Fudge'll make sure of that."

"Well," said Hermione tentatively. "You know, I was thinking today…." She shot a quick nervous glance at Harry before continuing on, "I was thinking that — maybe the time's come when we should just — just do it ourselves."

"Do what ourselves?" said Harry suspiciously.

"Well — learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves," said Hermione.

"Come off it," groaned Ron. "You want us to do extra work? D'you realize Harry and I are behind on homework again and it's only the second week?"

"But this is much more important than homework!" said Hermione.

Harry and Ron goggled at her.

"I didn't think there was anything in the universe more important than homework," said Ron.

"Don't be silly, of course there is! It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge's first lesson, for what's waiting out there. It's about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year —"

"We can't do much by ourselves," said Ron in a defeated voice. "I mean, all right, we can go and look jinxes up in the library and try and practice them, I suppose —"

"No, I agree, we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," said Hermione. "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong."

"If you're talking about Lupin…" Harry began.

"No, no, I'm not talking about Lupin," said Hermione. "He's too busy with the Order and anyway, the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and that's not nearly often enough."

"Who, then?" said Harry, frowning at Hermione.

Hermione sighed very deeply.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said. "I'm talking about you, Harry."

There was a moment's silence. A light breeze rattled the windowpanes behind Ron and the fire guttered.

"About me what?" said Harry.

"I'm talking about you teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts." Hermione sat there looking at Harry, who turned to face Ron, who was frowning slightly before he said, "That's an idea."

"What's an idea?" said Harry.

"You," said Ron. "Teaching us to do it."

"But…"

Harry was grinning at this point, Hermione wasn't sure if it was a nervous grin or if the idea was taking a hold on him.

"But I'm not a teacher, I can't —"

"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione.

"Me?" said Harry, who was now grinning more broadly than she'd ever seen. "No I'm not, you've beaten me in every test-"

"Actually, I haven't," said Hermione coolly. "You beat me in our third year — the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew the subject. But I'm not talking about test results, Harry. Look at what you've done!"

"How d'you mean?"

"You know what, I'm not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me," Ron said to Hermione, smirking slightly. He turned to Harry. "Let's think," he said, pulling a face like Goyle concentrating. "Uh… first year — you save the Stone from You-Know-Who."

"But that was luck, said Harry, "that wasn't skill —"

"Second year," Ron interrupted, "you killed the basilisk and destroyed Riddle."

"Yeah, but if Fawkes hadn't turned up I —"

"Third year," said Ron, louder still, "you fought off about a hundred dementors at once —"

"You know that was a fluke, if the Time-Turner hadn't —"

"Last year," Ron said, almost shouting now, "you fought off You-Know-Who again —"

"Listen to me!" said Harry, with an almost angry note in his voice. Hermione and Ron were both smirking at this point. "Just listen to me, all right? It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck — I didn't know what I was going half the time, I didn't plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and nearly always had help —"

Hermione and Ron were still smirking, though Hermione could see Harry begin to get angry.

"Don't sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn't I?" he said heatedly. "I know what went on, all right? And I didn't get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because — because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right — but I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing — STOP LAUGHING!"

The bowl of murtlap essence fell to the floor and smashed. Harry was standing up now. Crookshanks had streaked away under a sofa; Hermione and Ron were no longer smiling.

"You don't know what it's like! You — neither of you —you've never had to face him, have you? You think it's just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time you're sure you know there's nothing between you and dying except your own — your own brain or guts or whatever — like you can think straight when you know you're about a second away from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die —they've never taught us that in their classes, what it's like to deal with things like that — and you two sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up — you just don't get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn't needed me —"

"We weren't saying anything like that, mate," said Ron, looking aghast. "We weren't having a go at Diggory, we didn't — you've got the wrong end of the —"

He looked helplessly at Hermione, who was dealing with the urge to put Harry in his place about neither of them knowing anything about being in a life or death situation. Hermione couldn't help but think to herself that she couldn't remember the last time he was less than a foot away from three people who were shot and had any of those bullets gone astray she very well could have been killed. Or when was the last time Harry found himself stuck underneath the body of someone who weighed more than twice his own with bullets raining over the top of his head? But she didn't want a shouting match to erupt in the middle of the night. "Harry," she began softly, "don't you see? This… this is exactly why we need you…. We need to know what it's r-really like…. facing him… facing V-Voldemort."

Harry, still breathing heavily, appeared calmed. It was the first time she had ever said Voldemort's name. She suddenly realized how tired she was.

"Well… think about it," she said quietly. "Please?"

Harry nodded slightly.

Hermione stood up.

"Well, I'm off to bed," she said trying to make her voice sound natural. "Erm… 'night."

She turned and walked to her dormitory and fell asleep seconds after hitting the bed to dreams of small children walking and one always on a tree stump being ignored by the others. But as always the sun was in just the right spot to where only the general outline of the figures could be made out no detail, just blurry half-visible darkened figures.