'ELLO! This is my first fanfic EVER. Please R&R. Only constructive criticism please.

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Chapter 1:

"Oh, Harry!" The fairly screechy voice of Romilda Vane called out in what she supposed was a singsong voice.

Harry groaned inwardly. Hermione said that he should be nice to her but not to lead her on. How was that possible? Any time he looked at her she thought that he ways secretly burning with unprofessed love for her.

"Hi." Harry sighed and tried to rush passed her without making eye contact. No! She had a grip on his robes! There was no escape now! She was reeling him in!

"My aunt sent me these." She pushed a box into his hands. "Unfortunately, I can't stand the sight of them. But I'd like you to have them."

The box was full of chocolate frogs.

"Sorry, I still haven't gotten over the Caldron Cakes from last year yet." Harry pushed them back into her hands still avoiding eye contact. His gut was twisting unpleasantly. "Thanks, anyway."

" Don't worry." Romilda said, fluttering her eyelashes.

"HARRY!" Ron ran up, panting. "I've been searching all over the castle for you, mate. I need your expert advice on the Defense Against the Dark Arts essay." He put an arm over Harry's shoulder and began walking away from Romilda.

"Thank you." Harry said as soon as they were far enough away.

"Thank my sister." Ron's freckled face grinned. "Apparently, Romilda hasn't been to fond of me since she found out what happened to those Caldron Cakes. Anyway, Ginny asked me to rescue you. She felt you were in need of assistance."

"And you were needed, you have no IDEA, how much." Harry rolled his eyes. I swear she has a homing device implanted in me."

"What's a homing device?" Ron asked cocking his head.

"Never mind." Harry laughed.

Ron shrugged, "Oi! Hermione!"

"Hey!" Hermione came running up. "Have you two read the Daily Prophet?"

"Why? If there's anything important you'll tell us." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Honestly!" Hermione glared. "What is I stopped talking to you? Then how would you pass any of your classes or know what's going on in the world, Roonil Wazlib?" Hermione's voice took on an acid tone as she reminded Ron of an almost disastrous (yet hilariously funny) period when a spell-checker quill's spell had started to wear off.

"Well?" Harry was getting impatient. "What did the Prophet say?"

"Oh." Hermione looked flustered. She took out a paper "Here. It says: Former Hogwarts Headmistress, Delores Umbridge, had been released from St. Mungo's Hospital and had voiced a goal to regain the position. Several students have commended Madam Umbridge and said they hoped for her return. Today the governors have cast an almost unanimous vote to restore Madam Umbrige to the headmistresscy." Hermione's voice took on an air of gloom as she read the excerpt.

Harry's face was smiling.

"Harry?" Ron cocked his head. "Are you sane?"

"Perfectly" Harry grinned. "I don't think she learned just how vengeful students can be."

Ron grinned twice as wide as Harry. "Let the Umbridge Bashing begin!"

"Fred and George just bought a place in Hogsmead, right?" Hermione grinned wickedly.

"Yeah, but Hermione…" Ron's voice faltered.

"This is so unlike you." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Where that evil witch-with-a-b is concerned," Hermione's face glowed with a look of evil excitement. "I think you need to be a little different."

"Neville!" Harry crashed into the common room door. "We need your help with a potion!"

"P-p-potion?" Neville stuttered.

"Yes! We need you to try and make Felix Felicis."

"But everyone knows I suck at potions!"

"Yes! And we want you to screw this one up really bad!" Hermione urged.

"In fact," Harry got a mischievous glint in his eye. "I want everyone in this common room to experiment with potions and spells! We're going to need a hell of a lot of them!"