Chapter 9: Not Quite Ready

Padfoot and Prongs took me out on a run through the forest to help me calm down after the incident on the train. I always feel so free as Fen - all my troubles and worries are gone. My powers don't act out at all... which makes me wonder, what if the solution is to just keep my emotions in check? I'll talk about it with Siri later, James wants to go over some Quidditch tactics with me before tryouts begin. He's taking this whole 'Captain' thing very seriously. If only he could do the same with other things.

Aslan and Blitzen ran through the forest most of the night, playing games of tag and hide-and-seek. At close to midnight, they fell asleep in the forest, awakening when light began to appear over the distant mountains. They walked back to Hagrid's, turning back into themselves as they exited the trees. They grabbed the cloak and Map and made their way back to Gryffindor tower without incident. They returned to their dorm room and were just putting away their things when everyone else began to rise.

They got changed with everyone else, exchanging a look when Finnegan dressed as quickly as possible before rushing down the stairs. Leo cast a swift colour-changing charm after him, smirking as his hair began to turn fluorescent green without him noticing. He and Harry exchanged a quick high-five before they finished getting ready and headed down the stairs with Ron. Hermione was waiting for them in the common room.

"You're all in a good mood," she remarked as they walked toward the portrait hole. "What's got you so – oh, really now?"

She was staring at the common room notice board, where a large new sign had been put up. Fred and George were advertising for people to test their products, offering money in return. Leo looked at it with vague interest before reminding himself that the twins would most likely try to prank him while he was testing it.

"They are the limit," said Hermione grimly, taking down the sign, which Fred and George had pinned up over a poster giving the date of the first Hogsmeade weekend in October. "We'll have to talk to them, Ron."

Ron looked positively alarmed.

"Why?"

"Because we're prefects!" said Hermione, as they climbed out through the portrait hole. "It's up to us to stop this kind of thing!"

"Yeah, let me know how that works out for you," Leo snorted. "Mrs. Weasley can barely control those two, so I doubt you'll have much luck either."

Hermione looked annoyed and changed the subject as they walked down a flight of stairs lined with portraits of old witches and wizards, all of whom ignored them, being engrossed in their own conversation.

"I noticed Seamus's hair was green," she said in a mild tone. "Bit of an odd choice, I think."

"Yes, well, maybe when he decided to be a git and call Harry and me liars last night, he decided to change his hair colour as well," Leo replied, matching her tone.

Hermione didn't scold Leo like he thought she would. Instead, she sighed.

"Lavender said the same thing."

"Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I'm a lying, attention-seeking prat, have you?" Harry said loudly.

"No," said Hermione calmly, "I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about you, actually. And it would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down Ron's and my throats, Harry, because if you haven't noticed, we're on your side."

It was quiet for a moment before Leo gave a low whistle.

"Wow, bet you feel like a right arse now eh, Harry?"

"Shut up," Harry grumbled before turning to Hermione. "Sorry."

"That's quite all right," said Hermione with dignity. Then she shook her head. "Don't you remember what Dumbledore said at the end-of-term feast last year?"

"I barely remember what he said last night," Leo rolled his eyes before looking thoughtful. "Something about how we should unite instead of fighting each other? Or am I thinking of the Hat from last night?"

Hermione looked momentarily surprised.

"Yes," she said slowly. "I'm surprised you actually paid attention, considering it was Dumbledore who was talking and you hate him."

"I don't hate Dumbles," Leo frowned. "He's a good sort, but I don't like how controlling he is. Besides, there're better people to hate – like Lockhart or Umbridge."

The other three snorted as they reached the foot of the marble staircase. A line of fourth year Ravenclaws was crossing the entrance hall, but they all stopped suddenly and stared at the four and hurried to form a tighter group. Leo ignored them but Harry looked frustrated at the sight.

"Can't believe you still hate Lockhart after all these years," Ron chuckled. "You gonna do to Umbridge what you did to him?"

"You'll find I can hold a grudge for a very, very long time," Leo smiled serenely. "As for Umbridge... well, let's just say she won't know what hit her."

The other three exchanged mildly disturbed looks at the blonde's evil expression as they followed the Ravenclaws into the Great Hall, looking instinctively at the staff table as they entered. Grubbly-Plank was chatting to Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, and Hagrid was once again conspicuous only by his absence. The enchanted ceiling above them was a miserable rain-cloud grey.

"Dumbledore didn't even mention how long that Grubbly-Plank woman's staying," Harry said as they made their way across to the Gryffindor table.

"You said Hagrid's supposed to be on a mission for the Order, right?" Leo whispered. "Maybe Dumbles doesn't want to draw attention to the fact he's still gone?"

Before the others could answer, a tall black girl with long, braided hair had marched up to them. Harry was the first to greet her.

"Hi, Angelina."

"Hi," she said briskly, "good summer?" And without waiting for an answer, "Listen, I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."

"Nice one," said Harry, grinning at her.

"Mazel tov," Leo responded, repeating the same words he had heard from his father.

"Yeah, well, we need a new Keeper now Oliver's left. Tryouts are on Friday at five o'clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person'll fit in."

"Okay," Leo and Harry said simultaneously, and she smiled at them and departed.

"I'd forgotten Wood had left," said Hermione vaguely, sitting down beside Ron and pulling a plate of toast toward her. "I suppose that will make quite a difference to the team?"

"Hope Angelina won't make me attend every practice," Leo responded in a mildly irate tone. "It took up a lot of time despite the fact I've only ever played one game."

With a whoosh and a clatter, hundreds of owls came soaring in through the upper windows. They descended all over the Hall, bringing letters and packages to their owners and showering the breakfasters with droplets of water; it was clearly raining hard outside. The familiar form of Apollo swooped down toward Leo, landing on his head with a scroll attached to his leg. He was taking the scroll and handing his owl a piece of bacon when a grey owl landed in front of him, carrying a copy of The Quibbler.

Apollo gave an indignant hoot and Leo hushed him before depositing a few Knuts in the owl's pouch and taking his magazine. The owl took off, Apollo swooping after him angrily. Leo unfurled Apollo's scroll first, frowning at the message written in his father's tidy handwriting:

What is the time and place a Marauder must never miss?

"What does that mean?" Harry frowned, reading over his shoulder.

"Later," Leo hissed, glancing up the table.

McGonagall was now moving along the table handing out schedules.

"Look at today!" groaned Ron. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts... Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted..."

"Do mine ears deceive me?" said Fred, arriving with George and squeezing onto the bench beside Leo. "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

"Look what we've got today," said Ron grumpily, shoving his schedule under Fred's nose. "That's the worst Monday I've ever seen."

"Fair point, little bro," said Fred, scanning the column. "You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like."

"Why's it cheap?" said Ron suspiciously.

"Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote yet," said George, helping himself to a kipper.

"Have you tried combining a Wiggenweld Potion with a Blood-Replenishing Potion?" Leo suggested through a mouthful of eggs.

"Yeah, Draco mentioned that too – but he says he's having a hard time getting them to work together," Fred replied.

"Hmm..." the blonde frowned in thought.

"And speaking of your Skiving Snackboxes," said Hermione, eyeing Fred and George beadily, "you can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor notice board."

"Says who?" said George, looking astonished.

"Says me," said Hermione. "And Ron."

"Leave me out of it," said Ron hastily.

Hermione glared at him. Fred and George sniggered.

"You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione," said Fred, thickly buttering a crumpet. "You're starting your fifth year, you'll be begging us for a Snackbox before long."

"And why would starting fifth year mean I want a Skiving Snackbox?" asked Hermione.

"Fifth year's O.W.L. year," said George.

"Fifth year's O.W.L. year?" Leo gasped, receiving nods all around. "I didn't study!"

"If you like, I can help you -" Hermione began eagerly.

"Oh, wait, never mind. Forgot I don't do that," Leo realized, returning to his meal.

The others snickered while Hermione stared at him, looking quite irritated. Thankfully, George came to his rescue before she could start lecturing him.

"Anyway, it's a nightmare of a year, the fifth," said George. "If you care about exam results anyway. Fred and I managed to keep our spirits up somehow."

"Yeah... you got, what was it, three O.W.L.s each?" said Ron.

"Yep," said Fred unconcernedly. "But we feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement."

"We seriously debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year," said George brightly, "now that we've got our O.W.L.s. I mean, do we really need N.E.W.T.s? But we didn't think Mum could take us leaving school early, not on top of Percy turning out to be the world's biggest prat."

"We're not going to waste our last year here, though," said Fred, looking affectionately around at the Great Hall. "We're going to use it to do a bit of market research, find out exactly what the average Hogwarts student requires from his joke shop, carefully evaluate the results of our research, and then produce the products to fit the demand."

"You're also here to help me chase Umbridge out too, right?" Leo frowned.

"'Course we are, mate," George said at once.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Fred grinned before turning to his twin. "C'mon, George, if we get there early we might be able to sell a few Extendable Ears before Herbology."

They walked away, each carrying a stack of toast. Harry stared after them, a nervous expression on his face.

"D'you reckon it's true this year's going to be really tough? Because of the exams?"

"Oh yeah," said Ron. "Bound to be, isn't it? O.W.L.s are really important, affect the jobs you can apply for and everything. We get career advice too, later this year, Bill told me. So you can choose what N.E.W.T.s you want to do next year."

"D'you know what you want to do after Hogwarts?" Harry asked the others, as they left the Great Hall shortly afterwards and set off toward the History of Magic classroom.

"Not really," said Ron slowly. "Except... well..."

He looked slightly sheepish.

"What?" Harry urged him.

"Well, it'd be cool to be an Auror," said Ron in an offhand voice.

"Yeah, it would," said Harry fervently.

"But they're, like, the elite," said Ron. "You've got to be really good. What about you, Hermione?"

"I don't know," said Hermione. "I think I'd really like to do something worthwhile."

"An Auror's worthwhile!" said Harry.

"Yes, it is, but it's not the only worthwhile thing," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I mean, if I could take S.P.E.W. further... What about you, Leo?"

"Dunno, never really thought about it," he frowned before shrugging. "Still time to figure it out though, I suppose."

They entered the History of Magic classroom, where Leo took his usual seat in the back, close to the door. Once Binns had taken roll and was engaged in the process of ignoring them and droning on forever, he prepared to make his exit. Hermione stopped him with a very stern look that promised she'd rat him out in a heartbeat if he tried to leave. Leo pouted before taking out his textbook, propping it up in front of him, and re-reading the scroll his father had sent him.

'The time and place a Marauder must never miss...' He frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Well, they're not supposed to miss the full moon – their friendship was formed around that. But where...? The Shrieking Shack! It's where they would always meet Moony! Leo grinned broadly, glad that he had figured it out.

He checked the time and almost banged his head on the desk. Only five minutes had passed with forty left to go. He stared at Binns boredly, listening to him drone on and on, his voice digging into his brain and almost giving him a headache. When the bell rang, Leo was the first to run out of the room, screeching 'Freedom!' with the sounds of laughter following him. He ran down the stairs, stopping in his tracks just before he toppled someone over. When he saw who it was, he wished he had kept running.

"Where are you off in a hurry to, Mr. Black?" Umbridge asked him in her high-pitched voice that almost made his ears bleed.

"Potions. Professor Snape gets ever so cranky if I'm not there super early," Leo replied dryly. "Why? Is it against the law now to want to get to class on time?"

"I don't really appreciate your attitude, Mr. Black -"

"And I don't really appreciate you sending dementors after me and my cousin – but here we are," Leo responded, smirking at her stunned expression. "See you later, Professor."

He moved around her, snickering to himself as he descended the rest of the stairs and met Draco at the bottom. Draco asked what he was laughing about and Leo told him, receiving an exasperated look in response.

"This is why you're not in Slytherin – no subtlety whatsoever -"

"Subtlety is for the birds."

Draco snorted, distinctly reminded that his Animagus form was a hawk. Leo then showed him the note he had received, explaining that they were supposed to meet the Marauders at the Shrieking Shack on the night of the full moon. Draco dug out the calendar they used for Astronomy and looked it over, pointing out that the next full moon was from Friday through Sunday this week. The only day that really mattered was the one in between, the day when the full moon was at its peak.

The bell rang and they proceeded down the stairs to the dungeons, queuing up behind everyone else. Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined them a few minutes later, the latter two bickering about something as per usual. The door creaked open and they filed in, the five of them taking a seat at the back.

"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him.

There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence.

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my... displeasure."

His gaze lingered this time upon Neville, who gulped.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye."

His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Leo rolled his eyes.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method" — Snape flicked his wand — "are on the blackboard" — (they appeared there) — "you will find everything you need" — he flicked his wand again — "in the store cupboard" — (the door of the said cupboard sprang open) — "you have an hour and a half... Start."

Snape could hardly have set them a more difficult, fiddly potion. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in counterclockwise directions; the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added. Leo was about to refuse to even attempt the complicated potion but changed his mind quickly when Draco reminded him that would be like turning down a challenge. He worked harder than ever after that.

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go.

Leo was quite pleased to find his was doing so and glanced around to see how his friends were doing. Harry's cauldron was issuing copious amounts of dark grey steam; Ron's was spitting green sparks. On the surface of Draco and Hermione's potions, however, was a shimmering mist of silver vapour, and as Snape swept by he looked down his hooked nose at them without comment, which meant that he could find nothing to criticize. He seemed quite displeased when he couldn't complain about Leo's either but managed a sneer as he arrived at Harry's.

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"

The Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly; they loved hearing Snape taunt Harry.

"The Draught of Peace," said Harry tensely.

"Tell me, Potter," said Snape softly, "can you read?"

"Yes, I can," said Harry.

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter."

Harry squinted at the blackboard.

"'Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.'"

Harry paled suddenly. Leo grimaced, that could only mean he had missed a step.

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"

"No," said Harry very quietly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No," said Harry, more loudly. "I forgot the hellebore..."

"I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco."

The contents of Harry's potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron.

"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

Leo glanced at Harry apologetically before bottling his potion, labelling it, and bringing it up to Snape. The man curled his lip up at him but said nothing as the boy turned away and strode back to his table to clean up. Harry dashed out of the class as soon as the bell rang, leaving his four friends to follow after him at a more reasonable pace. The four of them found him already eating in the Great Hall. The ceiling had turned an even murkier grey during the morning. Rain was lashing the high windows.

"That was really unfair," said Hermione consolingly, sitting down next to Harry and helping herself to shepherd's pie. "Your potion wasn't nearly as bad as Goyle's, when he put it in his flagon the whole thing shattered and set his robes on fire."

"Oh, no, that part was me," Leo informed her as he and Draco sat across from the other three. "Couldn't resist. Was hoping it'd catch Zucchini since he was right next to him – but no such luck."

The boys chuckled while Hermione looked disapproving. The five talked amicably for a bit before Harry and Ron went to Divination and the other three went to Ancient Runes. Professor Babbling spent the first half of class reviewing what they had learned the previous year before having them take notes. As always, Draco shoved parchment and a quill at Leo, staring at him sternly until he reluctantly began to write. Leo would've said that it was a relief when class ended, but then he recalled that he had to see Umbridge next.

He let loose a groan as he walked out of the classroom, bidding farewell to Draco and waiting for Harry and Ron with Hermione. The two complained about the amount of homework they had received on the way to Defense, Ron stating that Umbridge better not give them any. Leo didn't think they were that lucky.

When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Umbridge already seated at the teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Leo's loathing for her increased as she continued to wear the colour he had once used to annoy others. She took something sacred and destroyed it. He almost sobbed as he took a seat in the back next to Harry.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled "Good afternoon," in reply.

"Tut, tut," said Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her, Leo remaining silent and glowering.

"There, now," said Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order "wands away" had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Leo, who hadn't even bothered taking out his wand, didn't make a move for his quill, ink, or parchment. He grumbled a 'thanks' when Harry supplied him with some. Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

Defense Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles.

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:

Course aims:

the principles underlying defensive magic.

to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

For a couple of minutes, the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. Leo pretended to be writing, when in fact he was doodling a toad getting eaten by a werewolf that looked suspiciously like Moony. Harry glanced over at his paper and had to suppress a snort of laughter. When everyone had copied down Umbridge's three course aims she said, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

"I think we'll try that again," said Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room as Leo idly itched his nose with his middle finger.

"Good," said Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all with those pouchy toad's eyes. Leo glanced around as everyone opened their books and flipped to the proper page. He rested his arms on his desk and his chin on his arms, having not bothered to bring his book with him. Umbridge seemed to notice this.

"Mr. Black, where is your copy of Defensive Magical Theory?"

"Oh, well, you see, there's a funny story behind that," Leo replied smoothly, suppressing a grin. "I was flipping through it the other day when it just spontaneously combusted in my hands. It was quite startling."

"You expect me to believe that your book just decided to catch itself on fire?" Umbridge asked in a sickly-sweet voice that made Leo want to throw up.

"Not really," he shrugged. "Especially considering the Ministry has a tendency to avoid the truth when it's right in front of their face."

Everyone stopped and stared at him. Their expressions ranged from eager to curious to mildly amused. Hermione was frantically putting her finger to her mouth, trying to get him to stop talking. Leo didn't really see the point. The damage was already done if the furious look on Umbridge's face was anything to judge by.

"And what truth would that be, Mr. Black?" she asked in a dangerously soft voice reminiscent of Snape's.

"How far back would you like me to go?" he replied dryly. "We could start with the fact that you chucked my uncle into Azkaban – despite the fact that he was saying he was innocent – without a trial, kept him locked there for twelve years, and then had the world on the hunt for him for two years -"

"Sirius Black was proclaimed innocent and given a full pardon -!"

"Then there was that time I had to attend a disciplinary hearing after being attacked by dementors. As I recall, you and Fudge both refused to believe our claims even after you were shown the memory -"

"You and Mr. Potter were cleared of all charges -!"

"And I'll bet that just really got your goat, didn't it?" Leo replied with an evil grin. "You'd've loved to see Harry and I get chucked in Azkaban, but when that didn't happen you decided to follow us to the school. Your obsession with us is almost on par with Voldemort's -"

Ron gasped; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Leo with an angry red expression.

"Detention, Mr. Black!" she said at once.

The class was quiet, looking between the two. Umbridge looked like she was about to explode while Leo looked quite calm by comparison. His eyes were dancing the same way they had done when he insulted Lockhart in their second year. It wasn't as funny this time around.

"I believe," Leo said slowly. "I've made my point."

"And what point is that, Black?" Umbridge asked through gritted teeth as she dropped the formalities.

Her tone made it quite clear that the question was rhetorical and it would be in his best interest not to answer it. Hermione shook her head vigorously, begging him to keep his mouth shut. Ron and Harry were both quite pale as they stared at him, seeming to know that he was about to cross a line with the woman.

"That you and Fudge are blinder than the dragon beneath Gringotts," he responded coldly. "And your need for power and control has forced you to hide the truth from everyone. You're going to get us all killed."

Umbridge stared at him for a moment before she pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink, and started scribbling. Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that he could not open it. She rose to her feet and walked – Leo was surprised she didn't hop – towards him and thrust the note at him.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall," she barked.

He took it from her with a small shrug and left the room, not even looking back at his friends, and slamming the classroom door shut behind him. He walked very fast along the corridor, the note to McGonagall clutched tight in his hand. He made his way to McGonagall's office without incident and knocked on the door. A second later, her voice told him to enter. He did so, walking in to see her sitting at her desk.

"Black," she said, peering over her glasses at him. "What are you doing out of class?"

"Apparently, some people don't appreciate honesty, Professor," Leo sighed, walking over to hand her the note before taking a seat across from her.

McGonagall took it from him, frowning, slit it open with a tap of her wand, stretched it out, and began to read. Her eyes zoomed from side to side behind their square spectacles as she read what Umbridge had written, and with each line they became narrower.

"Well?" said McGonagall, rounding on him. "Is this true?"

"Doubtful," he frowned. "What does it say?"

"Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umbridge?"

"No. She did all the shouting."

"You called her and Minister Fudge blind?"

"Figuratively speaking, yes."

"You told her she and the Minister were going to kill everyone?"

"What - no! She twisted my words, she did," Leo narrowed his eyes angrily. "I said that her and Fudge's ignorance would get us killed, geez..."

She frowned at him for a moment.

"Have a biscuit, Black."

Leo took one from the tartan tin of cookies lying on top of one of the piles of papers on her desk. He nibbled on it carefully McGonagall set down Umbridge's note and looked very seriously at him. It almost felt as though he was being examined, as though she was looking for something. He wasn't sure if she ever found it.

"It says here she's given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow," McGonagall said, looking down at Umbridge's note again.

"That sounds like a poor decision on her part," Leo remarked, taking another biscuit after he finished his first. "I have a bad history with Defense professors."

"A history, I hope, you won't repeat," she stared at him warningly before sighing. "I'm sure whatever warnings I give you will fall on deaf ears, but I must ask you to be careful, Black. Professor Umbridge is quite unlike any professor you've had in the past."

"Well, I'm not exactly a run-of-the-mill student either, Professor," Leo grinned broadly. "It'll take more than an over-sized, badly transfigured toad to intimidate me."

McGonagall gave him another stern look, though Leo noticed the corners of her mouth were twitching slightly. Leo only smiled wider in response. McGonagall opened her mouth to say something else, but they were interrupted by loud shouting at the door. He instantly recognized Harry's voice as McGonagall rose to her feet and opened the door.

"What on earth are you shouting about, Potter?" she snapped, as Peeves' voice cackled gleefully. "Why aren't you in class?"

"I've been sent to see you," Harry's voice responded stiffly.

"Sent? What do you mean, sent?"

It was quiet for a moment. Leo assumed Harry had received a similar note to his. He stole another biscuit.

"Come in here, Potter."

Leo turned his head to see McGonagall striding into the room, Harry following her and looking quite mutinous. Leo waved at him, stuffing the biscuit in his mouth as the door closed behind his cousin. McGonagall stared at the dark-haired teen for a long while before she finally spoke.

"Is it true that you told Professor Umbridge He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?"

Leo almost choked on his biscuit.

"Yes."

McGonagall sat down behind her desk, frowning at Harry. Then she said, "Have a biscuit, Potter."

"Have — what?"

"Have a biscuit," she repeated impatiently, indicating the tin. "And sit down."

Harry sank into the seat next to Leo, looking quite bewildered as he helped himself to a Ginger Newt. McGonagall set down Umbridge's note and looked sternly at the pair.

"You both need to be careful."

Her tone of voice was not at all what they were used to; it was not brisk, crisp, and stern; it was low and anxious and somehow much more human than usual. Leo could only recall hearing it a few times before, most prominently during his second year.

"Misbehavior in Dolores Umbridge's class could cost you much more than House points and a detention."

"Like trouble with the Ministry?" Leo suggested, taking his fourth biscuit.

She nodded curtly. The bell rang for the end of the lesson. Overhead and all around came the elephantine sounds of hundreds of students on the move.

"The both of you have detentions together every evening this week, starting tomorrow," she informed them.

Leo was suddenly reminded that they were supposed to be meeting the Marauders on Saturday. I'll just have Draco tell them we'll be late. I'm sure Sirius, at least, will understand. Harry seemed much more upset about the detentions than Leo was.

"Every evening this week!" he repeated, horrified. "But, Professor, couldn't you —?"

"No, I couldn't," said McGonagall flatly.

"But —"

"She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will both go to her room at five o'clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember: Tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge."

"Not likely," Leo snorted.

"But I was telling the truth!" said Harry, outraged. "Voldemort's back, you know he is, Professor Dumbledore knows he is —"

"For heaven's sake, Potter!" said McGonagall, straightening her glasses angrily (she had winced horribly when he had used Voldemort's name). "Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It's about keeping your head down and your temper under control!"

She stood up, nostrils wide and mouth very thin, and he stood too. Leo stared between the two, taking another biscuit and nibbling on it quietly.

"Have another biscuit," she said irritably, thrusting the tin at him.

"No, thanks," said Harry coldly.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "Take one before Black eats them all."

Leo shrugged unabashedly as Harry took one.

"Thanks," Harry grumbled.

"Did either of you listen to Dolores Umbridge's speech at the start-of-term feast?"

"Yeah," Leo nodded slowly. "She and the Ministry are trying to interfere at Hogwarts and backtrack our education."

"Quite right, Black," she nodded at him. "Doing battle with Professor Umbridge is like battling with the Ministry itself. Despite how like your father you are, Black, you're not ready for that."

A/N: Apologies for the lack of update last Sunday. My cat had to have surgery on his tail and, honestly, it was a very stressful day all around.