Ch. 6

Normally, the first night back to Hogwarts was filled with the students gossiping over what they did during the summer. However, this year, a rather somber dorm greeted Harry as he started to unpack by his bed. He figured it could have been that since Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff boy, had died last year, that no one was really in a talkative mood.

Harry and Cedric had been picked to be the Hogwarts Champions for the Triwizard Tournament last year. Harry's name had been added by a dark wizard disguised as Mad-Eye Moody in hopes of Harry winning the Tournament and being sent to where Voldemort was to be reborn via a Port Key set up on the trophy. It had worked, except Harry and Cedric had decided to tie for victory since they both felt that the other person deserved the glory. Voldemort had Cedric killed in front of Harry and it was only by sheer luck that Harry managed to escape and bring Cedric's body back to his parents at Hogwarts.

"Hey, Harry! How was your summer?" Dean Thomas asked. Dean and Seamus Finnigan had arrived in the room before Harry and Neville had. The two boys had stopped their conversation when Harry had entered, and Harry tried to not be paranoid over the reason why. After all, his mom was always saying that paranoia only led to pain and lonliness.

"It was really great. I spent the whole summer with Ron and Hermione. Two weeks of it was in America and then the rest here in England." Harry said. He took out his clothes and started to put them away as he said, "What about you two?"

"Mine was really good," Dean said. "Much better then Seamus' in fact."

"Oh? What happened?" Neville asked as he positioned and repositioned his Mimbulus Mimbletonia.

Seamus didn't answer at first. He seemed to be concentrating a little too hard to hang his new Quidditch poster up. When he did answer, he refused to meet anyone's eyes.

"Me mum didn't want me to come back."

"Why?" Harry asked, pulling out his pajamas.

"Well, because of you, Harry." Seamus said, his voice measured as if he really didn't want to have this conversation. "And it wasn't just you, it was Dumbledore too."

Harry frowned for a moment. What could he have done to make Mrs. Finnigan so angry that she would try to keep Seamus away from him. Suddenly, Harry's eyes widened as it hit him. "She believes the Daily Prophet, right? She thinks I'm an attention-seeking liar and Dumbledore's a senile old fool?"

Seamus nodded.

Harry sighed, rubbing one hand over his forehead. He could get angry, but that wouldn't solve anything. Besides, when presented with only one side of a story, sometimes it was hard to make a fair and balanced choice.

"Well, do you agree with her?" Harry finally asked. He had to know where his own dormmates stood on the issue of his battle with Voldemort.

Seamus shrugged. "We never did find out what really happened that night. The Prophet didn't really say anything and we only have what Dumbledore said to go by."

Harry sat down on his bed. "Honestly, I don't feel like talking about it much. I saw You-Know-Who be reborn. His servant who was with him killed Cedric, making Cedric his -" Harry paused and then mentally made a tally, "- fifth victim for his new reign. He also got two of my family members. Trust me, he's back."

"Then why isn't the Prophet reporting it?" Dean asked.

"Because the Ministry of Magic doesn't want to believe it. It's not like if they say that he's not really back and that I'm a liar and Dumbledore's a fool enough times it'll become true. It's only going to make the problem worse." Harry said. "I wish I could make the Prophet true. Believe me, my life would be so much easier if all of this was made up."

Just then, Ron entered the room. He stopped and looked at everyone's serious faces. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Harry said. He turned his back and started to pull down his sheets to go to bed.

"Say, Ron, do you believe that You-Know-Who is back?" Seamus asked.

"Of course I do. Why?"

"Because Seamus' mother believes the Daily Prophet," Neville said.

Ron frowned and his ears started to turn red. "Well, that's stupid. I would have thought your mother was much more intelligent then that."

"What's that supposed to mean!" Seamus cried.

"Ron, it's OK." Harry said, unhooking his arm holster. "Not everyone is going to believe me. It is a far-fetched story."

Ron stood there, seething. He wanted to jump to Harry's defense, but Harry didn't seem to mind that one of their dorm mates thought he was a liar. Harry seemed to be taking this whole thing very calmly.

"Anyone else have a problem with this?" Ron finally snapped. The boys in the dorm looked over at him and his very purple face.

"My parents are Muggle, mate." Dean said. "I didn't tell them anything about what was going on last year, and they don't get the Prophet."

Neville nodded. "My Gran says that it's the Prophet that's going downhill. She cancelled her subscription. We believe Harry and Dumbledore."

This seemed to put Ron at ease and made his way in little jerky steps to unpack his trunk. Ron was still a bit angry in the morning, causing tension between him and Seamus. He even turned that vivid shade of purple when Hermione let them know that Lavender Brown had been asking if the Prophet was telling the truth.

"Well, it's just like what Dumbledore said last year at the Leaving Feast," Hermione said. She then rolled her eyes at the blank looks she got from Harry and Ron.

"Hermione, I spent the Feast in the hospital wing with Sloane, remember?" Harry said. "I missed his speech."

"Oh, right," Hermione smiled. "He said that You-Know-Who's greatest gift is spreading discord and confusion and that we can only win through the bonds of friendship and trust."

Harry grinned. "I think mom has a shirt that says something like that at home."

"Say, Harry, why did Sloane have to spend that time in the hospital wing?" Hermione asked as they left for breakfast.

"Oh, he was starting his treatments to cure his heart. His father showed up to help Signor Dottore and mom with the spells." Harry said.

Ron stopped. "So, you know who Sloane's father is?"

Harry nodded. "But, it's not my secret to tell. Sorry guys, but I am sworn to secrecy."

He waved off their pleas to be told and took his seat at the Gryffindor table. When they got their schedules for the year, Ron moaned.

"Look at this," he complained. "History of Magic, Double Potions with Slytherian, Divination, and Defense! Binns, Snape, Trelawney and Umbridge. Talk about a bad Monday."

Harry grinned. "You should have gotten out of Divination like I did. Ancient Runes is a lot of fun."

Ron grumped. "Maybe, but you have Malfoy in that class, right?"

"True."

Knowing that at the end of their fifth year, they would be sitting through their O.W.Ls, or Ordinary Wizarding Level tests, Harry was determined to do better this year. His grades weren't too bad, but in order to move on to be a teacher, he might have to bring them up and take N.E.W.T. level classes for his last two years.

Hermione was rather impressed that Harry tried to pay attention to Professor Binns in History of Magic. Professor Binns was the oldest teacher in Hogwarts, being a ghost. According to the story, he fell asleep in the staff room and died peacefully, but his ghost got up and went to teach his classes as if nothing had happened. His droning voice was none to put the whole class in a stupor in ten minutes - five minutes in warm weather.

As they waited for Potions to start, Harry and Ron talked about how hard this year would be. They were having career advice this year to help prepare them for whatever job they wanted. Ron announced that he wanted to be an Auror while Hermione wanted to something she felt was worthwhile, like expanding her House Elf Liberation work.

When class started, Snape stood in front of the class, his gaze taking in the students.

"As you all know, this year is your O.W.L year. You will be expected to prove what you've learned in your classes with me and, moronic as some of you are, I expect you all to achieve no less then an 'Acceptable' on the exams or risk my displeasure."

Snape's dark gaze swept over the room, causing chills to go down several spines. "No doubt, after this year some of you will not be continuing with me. I only accept those students who achieve 'Outstanding' on their O.W.Ls in my N.E.W.T classes. However, we have a year before that happy moment, so whether or not you are planning on continuing with Potions, I want you all to concentrate and try to achieve the high-standard with which I expect of my O.W.L students."

Next to Harry, Ron looked ecstatic at the thought of not taking Potions after this year. Harry, however, had a sinking feeling that he would need to continue with Potions. He had been offered positions with several of the branches of the Mars family over the summer and was currently thinking of taking up the offer sent from his cousins in New Mexico. He could find a teaching job at the wizard's school there and help find a cure for Lycanthropy in his spare time. For that, he'd need Potions.

"Today's Potion is known as the Draught of Peace. It is a common potion that shows up at Ordinary Wizarding Level for calming anxiety and soothing agitation. Be warned: if you are heavy-handed in brewing this, you can send the person drinking the potion into a deep and often irreversible sleep." Snape said. "The instructions are on the board and the ingredients are in the store cabinet." The instructions appeared and the cabinet doors opened. "You have an hour and a half, so I suggest you get started."

Ron moaned that Snape couldn't have picked a harder potion to brew. Each step had to be done just right with the fire set just so. Harry grinned as he thought of the challenge it would be. He carefully read each line at least twice before proceeding with his next step.

With only ten minutes left to go, Snape's voice rang out in the silence, "By now, if you have done it right, your potion should have a light, silvery mist over the cauldron."

Harry checked his and was pleased to see that the mist over his cauldron was of a light silvery color. It matched Hermione's exactly. Next to him, Ron's was belching clouds of dark gray and he could see that Neville's was shooting green sparks. Snape started his rounds to view the potions and Harry saw the slight widening of his teacher's dark eyes when he stopped by his cauldron.

Snape was about to move on when Ron's dismayed cry rang out next to Harry. Harry turned to see what had happened. Ron's cauldron melted and his potion was currently oozing across the table - right for Harry's potion! Harry quickly reached for his rag to stop the flow, but it was too late. Ron's ruined potion and Harry's fire mixed, causing Harry's potion to be utterly ruined.

"Too bad, Potter," Snape said softly. "No points for you or Weasley." He waved his wand, causing the mess to vanish. Harry put his head down on the table. He wanted to scream that it wasn't fair, but that wouldn't solve anything. Maybe he could ask if there was a way he could do extra credit for at least half the points to keep his grade up.

Ron apologized all the way to lunch. Harry finally told him, in a dead voice, that he didn't blame Ron for what happened. In Ancient Runes, Sloane suggested that maybe Harry find a different seat in Potions class. After all, it wouldn't do to have his grades suffer if Ron melted another cauldron. Secretly, Harry agreed with him.

The boys parted ways and Harry and Hermione made their way to Defense. Ron greeted them at the door, still looking a bit miserable for what had happened. He was also miserable about the amount of homework that had already been assigned.

"Binns gives us a foot and a half on the giant wars, Snape wants a foot on the use of moonstone, and Trelawney wants us to keep a months worth of dreams in a journal!" Ron declared.

Harry shrugged. "Professor Bomin wants us to write an essay on the evolution of any one rune from the ancient meaning to its modern meaning and how does that effect the spell it's used in."

Ron winced. "Ouch. That sounds really hard."

They found their seats in Defense, waiting to see what kind of teacher Umbridge was. As it turned out, she was a rather strict disciplinarian. She expected that when she said 'Good afternoon' that the whole class answered her, and that any question was answered with a 'Yes, Professor Umbridge' or a 'No, Professor Umbridge'. She was also a stickler for raising your hand and got angry if you forgot.

"Now, wands away and quills out." Umbridge said. Harry bit back a groan. The order of 'wands away' never boded well for an interesting class.

"Copy down the objectives on the board. I realize that your learning has been rather disruptive with the constant changing of teachers. I am here to bring this class up-to-date with Ministry approved teaching methods."

The board had three objectives for the class. They were going to understand the principles of underlying defensive magic, learn to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used, and place the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

Once the class had copied the goals, Umbridge told them to read the first chapter of their course book, Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard. Harry took in the first few sentences and winced. The guy who wrote the book seemed to hate defensive magic in all forms. The last time Harry checked, merely talking to a person who has a wand trained on you wasn't always going to save your life. That really only worked in movies when it was the good guy talking to the wishy-washy henchman.

After a few minutes, Harry noticed that Hermione had her hand in the air. Umbridge was looking in the opposite direction, clearly ignoring her. As the minutes passed, several more students stopped reading, finding Hermione's mute attempt to get the teacher's attention far more interesting then the drivel they had to read.

Finally, Umbridge had no choice but to call on Hermione.

"Do you have a question on the chapter, dear?" Umbridge asked, her girlish voice was sickly sweet.

"No, Professor Umbridge. I have a question on your course aims." Hermione said.

"What is your name, dear?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I believe the course aims are clear if you read them carefully." Umbridge smiled, showing small pointed teeth.

"Well, I don't. There is nothing up there about using defensive magic. Isn't the whole point of this class to learn defensive magic and use it?"

While the other students looked back up on the board, Umbridge merely gave Hermione a little laugh.

"Using defensive magic? Why, my dear, this is a classroom. There will be no need for you to have to actually use defensive magic. Surely you don't expect to be attacked in class?"

"We're not going to use magic at all?" Ron cried out.

"Students raise their hands to speak, Mr. -?"

"Weasley," Ron said, his hand going up in the air. It was no use, though. Umbridge turned her back on him. Hermione and Harry raised their hands. Umbridge looked at Harry for a moment before calling on Hermione.

"How can we learn defensive magic in a class called Defense Against the Dark Arts if we don't use defensive magic?" Hermione asked.

"If you have the theory of how defensive magic works, then you can use defensive magic." Umbridge said. "However, this class is designed to teach you how to study defensive magic in a safe, risk-free environment."

Harry's hand remained in the air, but Umbridge ignored him. By now, several other hands were in the air.

"And your name is?" Umbridge asked, turning to Dean.

"Dean Thomas."

"What is your question, Mr. Thomas?"

"If we are attacked, in the real world, it won't be in a safe risk-free environment. Surely we should learn how to protect ourselves?" Dean protested.

Umbridge gave that simpering laugh of hers again. "Well, I can see why you children are so worried. I'm not one to criticize, but you have been exposed to several dangerous and irresponsible wizards in the past. Not to mention dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Professor Lupin, he was the best teacher we ever had!" Dean cried out angrily.

"Hand, Mr. Thomas!" Umbridge hissed. She then turned her back on him and was faced with several students with their hands in the air. Her eyes rested on Harry.

"Mr. Potter, what is it?"

"Well, Professor Umbridge, learning theory is all well and good, but if you don't practice what you learn, you will find that you can't perform." Harry said. "Please, bear this mind. Just reading theory and seeing pictures of what it's supposed to look like won't help us if we need to use defensive magic, not to mention the fact that we'll be having a practical exam for O.W.Ls this year. If we are not allowed to practice, we'll fail our exams."

"As long as you know the theory of defensive magic, you should do all right!" Umbridge seethed.

Harry shook his head. "Theory doesn't work in the real world."

"This is a school, Mr. Potter, not the real world!"

Harry started to open his mouth when Umbridge called on another student.

"Parvati Patil and shouldn't this class prepare us for the real world?"

"And just who do you children think will attack you in the real world?" Umbridge asked in a very honeyed voice.

Harry couldn't stop himself from saying, "Voldemort and his Death Eaters." All around him, the students reacted. Ron gasped; Lavender gave a little scream; Neville fell off his stool. Professor Umbridge, however, looked triumphant.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he had to bite his tongue to keep from commenting.

"Now, I know you students have been told that a certain dark wizard has returned. Let me reassure you, that is a lie. If you are concerned or someone -" here she glared at Harry, "- is scaring you with this fib, you can come to me. Now, finish your reading for the day."

Harry growled low in his throat and reopened his book. He was staring at the page in front of him when Umbridge walked up to him.

"I don't want to hear of you spreading this lie around anymore, Mr. Potter," Umbridge hissed. "There are no Dark Wizards on the loose."

"Ignoring a problem won't make it go away," Harry said.

"You're right, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said, giving Harry her most sickly smile yet. "Detention for a week, starting tomorrow after dinner."