Apart from the destruction of the diadem, the rest of my first weekend at Hogwarts was relatively mundane.
I spent most of Sunday morning completing what homework was left, and was very much looking forward to the Slytherin Quidditch tryouts after lunch. The cloudy weather from the last few days lingered, and the ground was damp as I made my way to the pitch, along with Montague and Miles Bletchley, the only other players that remained from last season.
The candidates showed up a few minutes after us, and Montague began organizing them into two groups; Chasers and Beaters, consisting of ten and six candidates respectively. He picked the first two Chasers and Beaters and we began the exercise, and after that the next two candidates from each group, and so on.
As for flying… it was amazing. When I kicked off in the first exercise, for a few blissful moments I forgot all my worries. All thoughts of homework, or OWLs, or Horcruxes completely left my mind. I even forgot about the tryouts until I heard Montague's shrill whistle, signaling the start of the trial.
After over a dozen exercises and three hours of mixing-and-matching, Montague blew the final whistle and we all returned to the ground. I was reasonably pleased with the results, as was Montague by the looks of it, since he didn't bark at anyone to get off the pitch during the trial or afterwards.
"I'll tell you all the results in a day or two," he told the candidates before heading off into the changing rooms. I followed suit, wanting to get back to the castle quickly. Not only was it getting dark and cold now, but dinner was in less than half an hour, and I was starving.
[…]
Later that night, I was sitting by the fireplace, bored out of my mind. This was the first night since term began where I hadn't had any homework to do. Prefect duties didn't start till ten, and it was currently eight thirty.
It was times like this that made me realize that Draco was actually quite lonely. None of the people he surrounded himself with were really friends. Crabbe and Goyle were more like henchmen, and not very good company, seeing as how neither of them ever really spoke.
There was also Pansy… but I really didn't wanna spend time with her at the moment. Besides, she was busy with homework right now. Zabini and Daphne were both acquaintances at best, and Zabini was also busy with homework while Daphne was… somewhere, I'm not sure, but she wasn't in the common room.
That left… Nott, who was sitting in a shadowy corner by himself, reading a book. I walked over to him.
"Hey, Theo," I said. "What're you reading?"
He didn't say anything, instead, just showed me the cover of the book.
"The Casebook of Leonidas Black: The Dogs of Bakersville," I read aloud. "Fascinating. Is that like Sherlock Holmes or something?"
"Huh?"
"Er… never mind," I said, cringing a bit at my slip-up. "Anyway, fancy a game of chess?"
"Why?"
"I'm bored, that's why."
He sighed. "Sure, fine."
"Excellent! I'll bring the board."
Halfway through the game, a sudden thought came to my mind. I already suspected that Nott knew of Voldemort's return and more so, he wasn't so psyched about it. Maybe I could… you know, get him on my side or something? It'd be nice to have at least one ally inside Slytherin…
"Say, Theo," I spoke in a low voice.
"Hmm?" he said, not looking up from the board.
"What do you make of all this, er… Potter mess?"
His eyes darted up to me. "What do you mean?"
"D'you reckon he's telling the truth?"
"About what?" he said.
"You know what… or rather, You-Know-Who."
"I- I- I dunno… sorry, I… have to go," he muttered and quickly got up, then all but ran into the nearest room and closed the door behind him.
"Oh, Theo that's the girls'-" I began, just before he came running back out and slamming the door behind him, narrowly dodging a hex from inside. "-bathroom."
Well, doesn't he just have the best poker face in the world, I thought as I watched Nott run into the dormitory. Why did even run anyway? Did he think I knew and supported Voldemort's return, and was afraid of me because of that? It's… understandable, I guess. But it complicated matters significantly.
I slumped back in my chair, pondering. Out of pure boredom, I decided to pick up the book Nott had been reading and give it a shot.
As it turned out, it was actually pretty good. I'll definitely have to check out the rest of this series.
A while later, the door of the common room opened and Montague walked up to me.
"Draco," he greeted me.
"Graham," I responded, putting the book down.
"Listen, those two blokes you hang around with… uh, Craig and Goyle?"
"Crabbe and Goyle," I corrected. "Yeah, what about them?"
"I was looking for them. I figured you'd know where they were."
"No, I don't actually," I responded. Weirdly enough, I hadn't seen them since before the tryouts. Maybe they had been in detention… but even then, they should have been back by now.
Double detention, maybe?
"Eh, they'll turn up," I said. "Why were you looking for them?"
"Ah, I was gonna ask if they wanted to be Beaters for the team," Montague replied.
"Wait- Beaters? But… they didn't even show up to the tryouts," I knew Crabbe and Goyle get selected in the books, and I know they were only selected for their physical size, but since they hadn't even been at the trials today, I thought that wouldn't happen.
"Yeah, but I figured they'd be good. I mean, have you seen them? They could probably send a Bludger flying a mile."
"Well, yeah but… look, you're the captain and it's your call, but shouldn't you be going for, I dunno, skill rather than just size? Because frankly, I don't think either of them are any good at flying."
"Uh… well, I'll think about it," he said, then walked off.
So… should I feel bad about sabotaging Crabbe and Goyle's chances of making the team? Eh…
Nah.
They didn't try out, so it's possible they didn't even want it in the first place. Plus, if they got selected, it would have been unfair for the people who actually tried out and flew well.
Moral crisis averted, I guess?
[…]
Monday came and went in similar fashion as the previous days, with gloomy skies and a whole lot of hard work. There were no outbreaks during Defense Against the Dark Arts this time, which was good, I suppose?
We continued practicing Vanishing Spells in Transfiguration. Most of the class was starting to make some progress now, and a couple of people had even managed to move on from snails to mice.
Not me, though, I was still lagging behind considerably thanks to my darn wand.
Fortunately, there was a Hogsmeade weekend coming up at the end of September, so only a few weeks to go till I could get a replacement.
Tuesday wasn't much different. The grind continued as our workload increased. We got back our checked homework assignments today; I managed to scrape 'Acceptable' on the Potions and Charms essays, a 'Poor' on the History of Magic homework, and an 'Exceeds Expectations' on the essay about the moons of Jupiter for Astronomy. Overall, not too shabby but still room for improvement.
Apart from that, the only thing noteworthy that happened on Tuesday was Montague announcing the new members of the team that night in the common room.
"Alright, quiet down, everyone!" he barked. "The new Chasers are… Blaise Zabini and Astoria Greengrass!"
The whole common room erupted into cheers. Or rather, the whole common room except for the ones that didn't make the cut for the team.
The selections weren't much of a surprise, to be honest. Zabini flew just fine, but was exceptionally good at dodging Bludgers. Astoria Greengrass, who was Daphne's younger sister and in her fourth-year, had been guaranteed from the start. She had outflown pretty much everyone else at the tryouts, and from what I gathered, the only reason she hadn't made the team before was because the old captain, Marcus Flint, tended to select his own buddies whenever he could.
Once the cheering died down, Montague spoke again, "And the Beaters are: Jason Myers and Bethany McLoughlin!"
Again, the room started cheering. Both of them were in their sixth-year, and they were pretty good. I knew that because Adrian had very nearly taken my head off with a Bludger, and Bethany had given one of the other Chaser candidates a bloody nose.
"Practice is on Thursday, five o clock, be there!" Montague reminded us.
The trouble began on Wednesday morning, with the arrival of post. On the very front page of the Daily Prophet, there was a large photograph of Umbridge, looking more toadlike than ever as she smiled widely from beneath the headline.
MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM
DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED
FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR
Ugh. This soon?
Well, now that I think of it, in the books it happened pretty early on in the year, so…
Whatever. I flipped through the article, it was the same thing from the books, all that crap about the 'falling standards at Hogwarts,' and 'the Minister's exciting plan for getting a grip on Hogwarts.'
That means classes are gonna be inspected regularly now, and also that the formation of Dumbledore's Army was drawing near.
The ringing of the bell reminded me that the first lesson of the day was also drawing near, namely History of Magic.
Christ, this morning just kept getting better and better.
[…]
After catching up on some sleep during History of Magic, we made our way towards the edge of the Forest, for Care of Magical Creatures, which was - by general agreement - one of the more enjoyable subjects in OWL year.
Naturally, that meant Umbridge was gonna show up, as part of her ongoing quest to suck the joy out of everything in a way that would make the dementors go out of business.
"You do not usually take this class, is that correct?" I heard Umbridge ask Professor Grubbly-Plank.
"Quite correct," she replied pleasantly, hands behind her back and bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm a substitute teacher, standing in for Professor Hagrid."
I saw Harry, Ron and Hermione look at me, then at each other uneasily. No doubt they'd be worried I'd snatch up this opportunity to tell tales about Hagrid, to a member of the Ministry like Umbridge, no less.
"I wonder…" Umbridge said softly. "The Headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information regarding Professor Hagrid's extended leave- could you perhaps tell me the cause of his absence?"
I noticed Harry edge ever so slightly closer to Professor Grubbly-Plank.
"Afraid not, sorry," Professor Grubbly-Plank replied breezily. "Don't know anything more about it than you do, to be honest. Just got an owl from Dumbledore, askin' if I'd like to do a couple months' teaching work. I accepted. That's about as much as I know. Well… shall I get started then?"
"Oh, yes, please do," Umbridge replied politely, scribbling a note on her clipboard.
Umbridge wandered amongst the students, asking them questions about various magical creatures. Most of them were able to answer just fine, so that was good.
After some twenty minutes of this, Umbridge returned to Professor Grubbly-Plank's side and said, "Overall, how do you, as a temporary member of staff – an objective outsider, I suppose you might say – how do you find Hogwarts? Do you feel you receive enough support from school management?"
"Oh, yes, Dumbledore's excellent," the professor replied. "Yes, I'm very pleased with the way things are run around here, very pleased indeed."
Umbridge made yet another note on her clipboard and went on, "And what exactly are you planning to cover with the class this year – assuming, of course, Professor Hagrid does not return?"
"Well, I'll take them through creatures that most often turn up in OWLs. Thought we'd cover Porlocks and Kneazles, make sure they can recognize Crups and Knarls… not a whole lot left to do, Professor Hagrid already gave them a good base."
"Well, you seem to know what you're doing, at the very least," Umbridge said, putting a sinister sort of emphasis on 'you', before addressing the rest of the class. "Now, I understand there have been injuries in this class previously?"
Pansy immediately pointed at me. "Yes, that was Draco," she said breathlessly. "He got slashed by a Hippogriff in our third year."
"A Hippogriff?" Umbridge said, scribbling frantically.
"Yeah, but… that was kinda my fault," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "I didn't listen to what Professor Hagrid told me to do."
Umbridge merely nodded and continued scribbling. I chanced a glance at Harry, Ron and Hermione. The three of them were looking rather confused at the prospect of me actively avoiding an opportunity to screw over Hagrid. Harry and Ron shrugged and turned back to their work, but Hermione continued looking at me for a bit longer, a curious expression on her face. At last, she gave me what I think was the tiniest of nods, then joined the other two.
That was good, I was making some progress with at least one member of the trio… I hope so anyway.
"Well, thank you very much, Professor," Umbridge said, looking up from her clipboard. "You shall receive the results of your inspection within a week."
"Jolly good," Professor Grubbly-Plank replied heartily.
[…]
That night, I was out patrolling the corridors again, looking for any curfew-breaking. Since that rarely ever happened, my mind was focused on another matter. Namely, how to get rid of Umbridge?
As I was pacing the hallways of the castle, pondering, I arrived not at an answer, but at yet another question.
Should I get rid of Umbridge?
Well, obviously she sucks, and is pretty tyrannical all things considered, but there was also the chance that maybe she causes something to happen – be it directly or indirectly – that is important to the overall story, something that in the long run proved beneficial. I'd have to consider that possibility… so that I don't unintentionally make things tougher for myself.
As I walked, I went through the plot of The Order of the Phoenix in my head. It was an admittedly tedious task, because dear lawd, that book was long.
After a while I was fairly certain the only thing good that was caused by Umbridge's actions was the formation of Dumbledore's Army. Apart from really boosting the general Defense Against the Dark Arts skills of its members, it also helped people like Neville and Luna feel valued.
So, the formation of the DA was the only thing, that I could think of, that would be good in the long run. Now, if there was something important that I missed, then… shit, I guess.
This means I'd have to wait till the DA was an established thing before I try to get rid of Umbridge. Maybe I'd wait a month or two, let them get several meetings in. And who knows, the DA might just carry on as a regular study group too after she's gone.
And as for actually getting rid of the old hag… that was simple, in theory anyway. If Dumbledore found out about the torture quills she was using on students, he'd probably take action in one way or another. The question was, would he be straightforward and just get rid of Umbridge? Or would he use the info as leverage to keep her in check, and by extension the Ministry's interference at the school? I wasn't so sure about that, admittedly, but I doubt he could make the situation any worse.
Now, if Dumbledore did end up sacking Umbridge, who'd be the replacement? He might bring in someone from the Order, because if I recalled correctly, the Ministry could only appoint a teacher if the Headmaster was unable to.
To be honest though, it was probably only a matter of time before Fudge passed a new Decree saying only the Ministry could appoint teachers. He might end up sending in someone he trusted even more, like… like… Kingsley Shacklebolt?
That'd be a pretty good scenario, actually.
So all that needed to happen, was for someone to tip Dumbledore off. Harry certainly wouldn't do it, and I don't really think anyone else in the school would be willing to go directly to the headmaster…
I'll figure something out.
[…]
(Two hours later, with Harry)
When Harry left his latest detention with Umbridge near midnight, his hand was bleeding. He wasn't sure if the words carved into the back of his hand would ever vanish now, but one thing he knew that certainly wouldn't vanish anytime soon, was his resentment of the old hag that was Professor Umbridge, and by extension, the reason she was even at Hogwarts.
Last summer, he had seen the death of Cedric Diggory at the hands of the greatest Dark wizard of all time; the man who had killed his parents and countless others. He had barely escaped with his own life that night.
Then, he had spent the entire summer in that god-awful house with nobody but his god-awful relatives to keep him company. Not a single letter, a single scrap of news from the wizarding world had reached him.
Then, out of nowhere, he had been attacked by two dementors. At least that had gotten him back to the wizarding world, which as he soon found out, had gone to absolute shit.
Everybody thought he was crazy; an attention-seeking nutjob with a hero complex, as the Daily Prophet put it. Did so many people honestly, genuinely believe that he would lie about Voldemort's return and the death of Cedric Diggory, or a Dementor attack, simply because he wanted the spotlight? Was it possible for so many people to be really that moronic?
If the Ministry had been even remotely competent, they would have believed him, or at least thought about what he was saying, or… anything, really. But instead, they had sent the old gargoyle to turn the only place he had ever really called home into an outpost of Fudge's office.
It was all so fucking unfair; it was driving him nuts. He hadn't asked for any of this…
He hadn't even realized he had reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower until the Fat Lady irritably asked him for the password.
The common room was empty, save for the only two people in the castle he wasn't displeased to see in his current mood. Ron and Hermione must have just gotten back from patrol duty. Ron had an unfinished essay in front of him while Hermione was stirring a bowl full of some yellow fluid.
"Here, Harry, put your hand in this," she said, passing him the bowl. "It's essence of Murtlap, it'll help with those cuts."
"What?"
"The cuts, on the back of your hand, Harry," Hermione said impatiently.
Harry saw no point arguing with her about it. He spent most of his time with Ron and Hermione, they were bound to find out eventually.
He placed his bleeding hand into the bowl and was instantly grateful for it; the pain and even some of his anger vanished.
"Thanks, Hermione, you're a life-saver," he said gratefully.
"When are you going to tell Dumbledore about all this mate?" Ron asked, looking up from his essay.
"I'm not," Harry said through gritted teeth.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. I'm not giving Umbridge the satisfaction of knowing she's got to me-"
"Got to you? Harry, if Dumbledore found out-" Hermione began but Harry cut her off.
"Yeah well, Dumbledore's got enough on his mind right now," he said bitterly.
"Blimey Harry, the woman's torturing you!" Ron said.
"Drop it, alright? I really don't wanna talk about it right now," Harry said harshly.
For the next few minutes, they sat in silence, and the only sounds in the common room were the crackling of the fire and the patter of rain on the window. Then suddenly, Harry put the bowl on a table and slid off his chair on to his knees, staring in to the fireplace.
"Er… you alright there, Harry?" Ron asked uncertainly.
"I think I just… saw Sirius's head in the fire," he responded.
"Sirius's head?" Hermione asked. "You mean, like when he wanted to talk to you during the Triwizard tournament? But he wouldn't do that now, would he? that would be too risky- Sirius!"
There in the middle of the dancing flames, was the grinning face of Sirius Black.
"I was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyone else had disappeared," he said. "I've been checking in every hour."
"Every hour?" Harry asked, half laughing.
"Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear. I think a girl, first-year by the look of her, may have caught a glimpse of me," he responded, then seeing Hermione clasp a hand to her mouth, quickly added, "I was gone the moment she looked back at me. Probably thought I was an oddly shaped log or something, I'll bet."
"Sirius, that's really risky!" Hermione said.
"You sound like Molly," Sirius said. "This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's letter without resorting to a code – and codes are breakable."
"You didn't mention you'd written to Sirius," Hermione said accusingly, turning to Harry.
"I- er… forgot," he said, truthfully. The run-in with Cho at the Owlery had sort of overshadowed everything else before it. "Don't look at me like that, Hermione, there was no way anyone could have ever gotten any information out of it! Right, Sirius?"
"No, it was excellent," Sirius said smiling. "Anyway, we better be quick in case we're disturbed. Now, your scar?"
"It hurt the night I had my first detention with Umbridge," Harry said. "You don't think it's because-?"
"No," Sirius said firmly. "Dumbledore said the scar hurts whenever Voldemort is feeling a strong emotion, didn't he? Now that Voldemort is back, it's bound to happen more often now."
"So you don't think it had anything to do with Umbridge that night?"
"No. I know Umbridge by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater," Sirius said.
"She's foul enough to be one though," Ron said.
"No argument there," Sirius said. "You should hear Remus talk about her."
"He knows Umbridge?" Harry asked, before remembering Umbridge's stance on half-breeds.
"Not personally, no," responded Sirius. "But she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation a few years ago that made it almost impossible for him to get a job."
Harry remembered how much shabbier Lupin had looked when he had seen him in Grimmauld Place over the summer, and felt his hatred for Umbridge rise even more.
"Anyway, what are her lessons like?" Sirius asked. "Is she training you to kill half-breeds or something?"
"No, Sirius, she's not letting us use magic at all!" Harry said.
"That figures," Sirius said. "Our latest information is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."
"Combat?" Ron asked incredulously. "What, does he think we're forming some sort of wizard army?"
"That's exactly what he thinks. He's getting more paranoid by the minute, thinks Dumbledore's training you all to overthrow him so he can become Minister," Sirius said with a grim smile.
"That has got to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Yeah, and you've known Ron for five years now," Harry said with a smirk.
"Shut up, Harry," Ron said, though he was also smirking slightly.
"So…" Sirius said after a moment. "What's the plan?"
"Plan?" Harry blinked.
"You expect me to believe you lot don't have some kind of scheme planned to give Umbridge hell?" Sirius asked.
"Well… me and Hermione did have an idea, a week ago," Ron said, looking at Hermione, then uncertainly at Harry. "Well, mainly Hermione…"
"Yes?"
"To learn Defense Against the Dark Arts properly ourselves, along with a couple other people." Ron said.
"But Harry will be the one that teaches us," Hermione said, looking anxiously at Harry. "Since he's had the most experience with… well, you know."
"Hey, now that's an idea," Sirius said. "Harry, what say you?"
"Look, I've been through with this with Ron and Hermione," Harry said. "I'm not that great at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I've just been lucky… I- I can't teach other people."
Upon seeing Sirius skeptically raise an eyebrow, and really not being in the mood for an argument, Harry decided to come up with another reason on the spot to get the three of them off his back.
"Besides, it's too risky. I mean, what if we get caught?"
"It's a study group, mate," Ron said. "Perfectly within the rules. I would know, I'm a prefect."
"I think this one might be considered a bit more rebellious, Ron. And you know what Umbridge is like. She'll make up a reason just to expel me, say I was plotting to kill Fudge or something!"
After a pause, Sirius spoke again, "Er… anyway, when's your next Hogsmeade weekend? I figured if we could get away with the dog disguise at King's Cross, maybe we could-"
"NO!" the trio said loudly together.
"Oh, alright, alright," Sirius said, looking displeased. "Just an idea, thought you'd like to get together."
"I would, more than anything," Harry said. "But I don't wanna see you get chucked back into Azkaban again!"
After another pause, Sirius spoke again, this time with an air of definite coolness, "You're less like your father than I thought. The risk would've been what made it fun for James."
"Look-"
"I have to get going. I'll write to tell you what time I can make it back into the fire, okay? If you can stand to risk it?"
With a tiny pop, Sirius's head vanished from the fire, leaving the trio in silence.
Harry got up and walked over to the window, gazing out into the grounds at the spot that he knew, by instinct, was Hagrid's cabin – even though he couldn't actually see it without the cabin's lights on. He thought about the words Sirius had said just before he had vanished.
The risk would have been what made it fun for James.
Sirius had been referring to his Hogsmeade visit idea getting shut down when he said that. But Harry felt that the words also extended to his own reluctance about teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.
To his own surprise, the more Harry thought about it now… the more he started to consider it. After all, why not? They had to learn DADA properly, and there was something about the fact that they would be doing it right under the old toad's nose, that made it more appealing to him…
But could he actually teach DADA? Well, Harry had his doubts. He wasn't nearly the master wizard Ron and Hermione thought he was; a lot of what he had done in the past was thanks to luck, or someone else helping him.
But there was also the fact that he had consistently, for the past four years, performed well at Defense Against the Dark Arts. There was definitely talent in him… and hey, if Sirius thought he was good enough to pull it off, then maybe he was.
After pondering for a few more minutes, he turned around to face Ron and Hermione.
"I'll do it," he said.
"Do what?" Ron asked cautiously.
"Teach Defense," Harry replied.
Ron pumped his fists in the air while Hermione beamed.
"So, er… what's the plan?" Harry asked.
"Well, we're gonna be meeting some people at Hogsmeade in a couple weeks," Hermione said. "People that are also fed up with Umbridge's 'teaching.'"
"Uh, how many people?" Harry asked.
"Just a couple."
"Right."
And with that, Harry returned to his dormitory.
[…][…][…]
Merry Christmas ya filthy animals, and a happy New Year!
Yeah, I know I'm pretty late. Also, sorry if this chapter felt slower. A lot of it was mainly setup for the next couple of chapters.
Anyway, hope you guys like the story so far. Let me know your thoughts.
Take care!