The Hogwarts High Inquisitor

Cas wasn't at breakfast the next morning, and Dean was almost glad of it when he saw the headline on that morning's Daily Prophet.

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM

DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR

'What's that supposed to mean?' Harry said.

Hermione read aloud the article.

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

' "The Minister has been growing uneasy about 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 don't approve of."

'This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school. As recently as 30th August, Educational Decree Number 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 an appropriate person.

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

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

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

'"- an immediate success, totally revolutionising the teaching of Defence 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 formalised with the passing of Educational Decree Number 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."

'The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.

'"I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation, ' said Mr Lucius Malfoy, 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 are 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 employment of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid and delusional ex-Auror, "Mad-Eye" Moody.

'Rumours 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 towards ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose our 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's alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page seventeen)'

'Did Mycroft know about this?' John asked Sherlock, aghast.

Sherlock shook his head and got up. 'I need to send him an owl. I'll be right back.'

'Use a school owl,' John called after him.

'I can't believe this,' Hermione fumed. 'It's outrageous.'

Dean ground his teeth, but Ron's face broke into a grin.

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

'Well, come on,' Hermione said, jumping up, 'we'd better get going, if she's inspecting Binns's class we don't want to be late.'

They all got to their feet, and Dean grabbed John before they all went upstairs.

'Hey, is Cas in the castle?'

'Erm…' John blinked rapidly, grabbing hold of Dean. 'No, he isn't.'

Dean nodded and paused in the Entrance Hall, caught between wanting to go down to the Shrieking Shack and keeping his promise to Cas. The promise won out and he headed up to History of Magic.

Professor Umbridge was not inspecting their lesson, nor was she in Snape's dungeon when they arrived for double Potions. Dean's moonstone essay was handed back to him with a large, spiky 'A' written in the corner. Dean was pleasantly surprised, but he knew he'd scraped the pass only by what Cas had written in it.

Snape wrote the instructions for a Strengthening Solution on the blackboard, but Dean couldn't read it, so he dug his Potions textbook out of his bag. Cas had already charmed it for him so he could read it, but it was still difficult without Cas to help him. His potion wasn't the clear shade of turquoise it was supposed to be by the time he was finished with it, but at least it was blue rather than pink, like Neville's was.

Dean stopped John again on their way to lunch to ask if Cas was back yet. John shook his head no, so Dean grabbed as much food as he could carry before hurrying down to the Whomping Willow.

'Cas?' he called out when he entered the Shrieking Shack. There was no dazzling white light, but some of the plants were smashed again, and a chair had fallen to pieces. Dean walked through the house, repairing everything as he went, and found Cas fast asleep on the bed. Dean knelt down beside him and gently shook his shoulder.

Cas started violently awake, and the bed frame cracked.

'It's okay, it's just me,' Dean said soothingly.

Cas looked around dazed. 'What - what time is it?' he croaked, rubbing his face.

'It's lunch,' Dean said, holding up the food he brought.

Cas stared at him for a moment, confused. 'But I - lunch?'

'That's right.'

Cas groaned loudly. 'That wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to go to Dark Arts. She's going to be angry at me.'

'Don't you have a note? I thought all the teachers knew you had to leave class sometimes.'

'I asked Madam Pomfrey not to tell her. I didn't want to give her any reason to suspect me.'

Dean bit his lip. 'So Madam Pomfrey knows about this?'

'Of course she does.'

'Okay, well why don't you get her to give you a note just saying you were sick today? It doesn't have to say why.'

Cas nodded and sat up, and Dean began sorting through the food.

'You want one of these? I don't know what they call these, but they're good.'

'Scotch eggs,' Cas told him. 'No, thank you.'

Dean offered snack after snack, but Cas rejected all of them, until Dean insisted he eat one thing. He took a few crackers and nibbled on them. Once he was sure Cas was calm, Dean elbowed him playfully. 'You were supposed to tell me if you needed me.'

Cas smiled. 'I didn't have time to come and get you. It can be very sudden sometimes.'

'Next time you should tell Sherlock you need me. He can tell John, and I can meet you here.'

Cas shook his head. 'Sherlock will ask questions.'

'So tell him to shove it,' Dean grinned. 'But, you know, I'm sure Sherlock can keep a secret. From what I hear, he kept the whole Seer thing a secret from John for a really long time, which is impressive, given that whole connection deal they have.'

Cas shrugged noncommittally.

'I'm not trying to pressure you, I just think it would be a good idea. Share the load, you know?'

'I appreciate your concern. We should get back.' Cas ate one more cracker and got to his feet, leading the way back up to the castle, repairing the bed frame on his way out.

'Let's study in the hospital wing after class today,' Dean said. 'I've got Divination and Dark Arts this afternoon, so it'll be nice to talk properly.'

'Fine by me.'

'See you later, then.'

Dean hurried away up to Divination and sat in his usual seat next to John. He was just pulling out his dream diary, when the cheery chatting that filled the room suddenly fell silent. He looked up and saw Umbridge climbing up through the trapdoor.

'Good morning, Professor Trelawney,' said Umbridge, with her wide smile. 'You received my note, I trust? Giving the time and date of your inspection?'

Trelawney nodded curtly and turned her back on Umbridge to hand out copies of The Dream Oracle.

Still smiling, Umbridge grasped the back of an armchair and pulled it to the front of the class, so that it was a few inches behind Trelawney's seat. She sat down, took a clipboard out of her bag and looked up expectantly, waiting for the class to begin.

Trelawney pulled her shawls about herself and surveyed the class.

'We shall be continuing our study of prophetic dreams today. Divide into pairs, please, and interpret each other's latest night-time visions with the aid of the Oracle.'

She made as though to sweep back to her chair, saw Umbridge sitting right beside it, and veered left towards Parvati and Lavender.

John flipped his book open but paid it no mind, watching Umbridge make notes instead, his eye twitching. Dean too opened his book, but Cas hadn't charmed this one for him, and its particularly curly font was too difficult for him to read.

'You have any good dreams lately?' Dean asked John.

'Not especially,' John shrugged. 'I keep dreaming about the Forest. I think something is going on with the centaurs, but I think I should stay away for now.'

'Yeah, centaur politics doesn't sound like something you want to get involved in.'

John nodded, absently turning a page as he watched Umbridge get up and follow Trelawney around.

'Now, you've been in this post how long exactly?' they heard Umbridge ask.

'Nearly sixteen years.'

'Quite a period,' said Umbridge, making a note on her clipboard. 'So it was Professor Dumbledore who appointed you?'

'That's right,' Trelawney said shortly.

Umbridge made another note. 'And you are the great-great-granddaughter of the celebrated Seer Cassandra Trelawney?'

'Yes,' said Trelawney, holding her head a little higher.

'But I think - correct me if I am mistaken - that you are the first in your family since Cassandra to be possessed of Second Sight?'

'These things often skip - er - three generations,' said Trelawney.

Umbridge's toadlike smile widened. 'Of course,' she said sweetly, making yet another note. 'Well, if you could just predict something for me, then?'

Trelawney stiffened, as though unable to believe her ears. 'I don't understand you,' she said.

'I'd like you to make a prediction for me,' Umbridge said clearly.

Trelawney drew herself up to her full height, her beads and bangles clinking. 'The Inner Eye does not See upon command!' she said in scandalised tones.

'I see,' said Umbridge softly, making another note on her clipboard.

'I - but - but… wait!' said Trelawney suddenly, in an attempt at her usual ethereal voice, though the mystical effect was ruined somewhat by the way it was shaking with anger. 'I… I think I do see something… something that concerns you… why, I sense something… something dark… some grave peril…' Trelawney pointed a shaking finger at Umbridge who continued to smile blandly, eyebrows raised. 'I am afraid… I am afraid that you are in grave danger!' Trelawney finished dramatically.

There was a pause. Umbridge's eyebrows were still raised.

'Right,' she said, scribbling on her clipboard once more. 'Well, if that's really the best you can do…'

'She's right,' John blurted out, causing everyone in the room to turn and stare at him. 'I'd be careful if I were you.'

Umbridge's gaze turned chilly. 'Is that a threat?'

'It's a warning.'

'Detention, Mr Watson. You will come to my office after class today.'

John only narrowed his eyes in response, and Umbridge turned away.

Trelawney spent the remainder of the lesson predicting that each and every one of Harry's dreams surely meant that he would die a gruesome and early death, and John watched Umbridge the entire time, though by his gaze, he seemed to be looking through her rather than at her. When the bell rang, Umbridge descended the silver ladder and John rubbed his eyes.

'Her threads are ugly,' John muttered, packing his bag up. 'Bright pink, some of them.'

'Right,' said Dean, bemused.

John was still frowning in disgust when they arrived at Defence Against the Dark Arts and were taking out their copies of Defensive Magical Theory.

Dean swallowed as he opened it. Cas had charmed this one as well, but its small font and blocky paragraphs were still intimidating.

'Wands away,' Umbridge instructed, and those people who had been hopeful enough to take them out sadly returned them to their bags. 'As we finished Chapter One last lesson, I would like you all to turn to page nineteen today and commence "Chapter Two, Common Defensive Theories and their Derivation". There will be no need to talk.'

Dean read agonisingly slowly, taking frequent breaks, until he noticed that Hermione once again had her hand in the air.

'What is it this time, Miss Granger?' Umbridge asked.

'I've already read Chapter Two,' said Hermione.

'Well then, proceed to Chapter Three.'

'I've read that too. I've read the whole book.'

Umbridge blinked but recovered her poise almost instantly. 'Well, then, you should be able to tell me what Slinkhard says about counter-jinxes in Chapter Fifteen.'

'He says that counter-jinxes are improperly named,' Hermione said promptly. 'He says "counter-jinx" is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make them sound more acceptable.

Umbridge her eyebrows, impressed against her will, and Dean hid a smirk behind his book.

'But I disagree,' Hermione continued.

Umbridge's eyebrows rose a little higher and her gaze became distinctly colder. 'You disagree?'

'Yes, I do,' said Hermione, in a clear, carrying voice. 'Mr Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, does he? But I think they can be very useful when they're used defensively.'

'Oh, you do, do you?' said Umbridge. 'I'm afraid it is Mr Slinkhard's opinion, and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger.'

'But-'

'That is enough,' said Umbridge. 'Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor house.'

'What for?' Harry burst out angrily, and Hermione kicked him under the desk.

'For disrupting my class with pointless interruptions,' Umbridge said smoothly. 'I am here to teach you Ministry-approved methods that do not include inviting students to give their opinions on matters about which they understand very previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more licence, but as none of them - with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects - would have passed a Ministry inspection-'

'Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher,' Harry said loudly, 'there was just the minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head.'

This was followed by the loudest silence, then-

'I think another week's detentions would do you some good, Mr Potter,' Umbridge said sleekly.

Dean started. He'd heard the stories about Professor Quirrell, of course, but it had all seemed so distant and unconnected to him at the time. Hearing it again now that he personally knew everyone involved was like a slap in the face.

The class was tense and silent for the rest of the lesson, and they all hurried out of the door, except John, who trudged after Umbridge to her office. He was followed at a distance by Sherlock, who did not make himself known to Umbridge.

Dean picked up food from the Great Hall again and hurried up to the hospital wing. Cas was already there, sitting with his legs crossed on the furthest bed from the door, bent over a book and a piece of parchment. Before Dean reached Cas, he could tell from the tension in Cas's shoulders and the tightness in his mouth that he was in a terrible mood.

'Hey,' Dean smiled, sitting on the bed opposite him. 'Sandwich?' He passed one over and Cas took it, but he just held it in his hand without looking at Dean. 'What are you working on?'

'Ancient Runes,' Cas muttered. He appeared to be struggling with a particular sentence.

Dean peered over at it. 'No wonder you're stuck. You're looking at the wrong Syllabary. These are Enochian, not regular runes.'

Cas finally looked up at him, surprised, then back down at his parchment. 'You're right,' he said, picking up the correct book instead. 'Can you read them?' he asked curiously.

'Not really, but I recognised some of the sigils. Demons use them sometimes, to leave threats and stuff.'

'Oh.' Cas gave him a guilty look and put down his quill. 'I don't really feel like studying today.'

Dean nodded, slightly alarmed. 'Okay, what do you wanna do? I'll come watch you fly, if you want.'

'All right.' Cas got to his feet, leaving his bag and books on the bed.

Cas was silent as they left the castle, but his fists were clenched tightly.

'What's wrong?' Dean chanced eventually, eyeing the Quidditch pitch as Cas walked right past it.

Cas just shrugged.

'Bad day, huh?'

'I suppose so,' Cas sighed, slowing as they approached a garden plot nearby Hagrid's house. 'Gabriel planted this with me,' Cas muttered, brushing the leaves of a small apple tree.

Dean grimaced.

Cas's fist closed around one of the slim branches and he tore it off, tossing it away.

'Cas…'

'How could he leave me like this?' Cas snapped off another branch and hurled it at the Forest treeline. 'It's not fair.' Cas suddenly stormed towards the Forest and Dean chased after him.

'Where are you going?' Dean asked.

'I don't want to be here.'

'I don't think you wanna be in there, either, man.' Dean resisted the urge to reach out and grab Cas. He'd never seen Cas this angry before. It was usually his fears that he lost control of, otherwise he was level-headed most of the time.

'Why not?' Cas said, not changing trajectory at all. 'John and Sherlock go in all the time.'

'Yeah but something's going on, John won't even go in now.'

'Maybe it's where I belong, with all the other creatures.'

'We've been over this, Cas.'

They reached the edge of the Forest and Cas whirled around to face him. 'Why else would Gabriel leave?'

'I don't know, Cas,' Dean said sadly.

Cas's eyes blazed blue and he punched a nearby tree. The trunk splintered and the shockwave sent Dean sprawling. Cas watched the tree crack and collapse, crashing to the ground. 'Do you still think I'm not dangerous?' Cas said as Dean scrambled to his feet.

'Yep,' Dean said. 'If you were dangerous, you would have hit me instead of that tree.'

Cas looked aghast. 'I would never hit you.'

'Exactly.' Dean brushed himself down.

Cas's fists clenched again. 'This is all ridiculous. I shouldn't be here. Not now that Gabriel can't stop me. None of you should be near me.' Cas walked off. 'Don't follow me, Dean.'

Dean scuffed his toes in the grass, watching Cas's retreating figure. He peered into the Forest once Cas was gone. It seemed a lot more foreboding now that even John wouldn't go near it.

Cas reappeared at breakfast the next morning and sat next to Dean.

'I want to apologise for yesterday,' he said quietly. 'I don't know why I was so angry.'

'Don't sweat it. It's okay to be angry sometimes. I don't blame you for it.'

Cas nodded and picked up a bunch of grapes to eat, without Dean's prompting, though he dropped it when Angelina Johnson shouted at Harry for once again getting detention with Umbridge.

Dean was able to cheer him up during Charms and went to Transfiguration afterwards with a smile on his face. He sat down in his seat, and his smile widened. Umbridge was sitting in the corner behind Professor McGonagall's desk.

'Excellent,' Ron whispered. 'Let's see her get what she deserves.'

Professor McGonagall marched into the room without giving the slightest indication that she knew Umbridge was there.

'That will do,' she said and silence fell immediately. 'Mr Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework - Miss Brown, please take this box of mice - don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you - and hand one to each student -'

'Hem, hem,' said Umbridge, employing the same silly cough she had used to interrupt Dumbledore on the first night of term. Professor McGonagall ignored her. Seamus handed Dean back his essay, and he frowned at the small 'P' in the corner.

'Right then, everyone listen closely - Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again, I shall put you in detention - most of you have successfully Vanished your snails and even those of you who were left with a certain amount of shell have got the gist of the spell. Today, we shall be-'

'Hem, hem,' said Umbridge.

'Yes?' said Professor McGonagall, turning around.

'I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec-'

'Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you were doing in my classroom,' said Professor McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Umbridge. 'As I was saying: today, we shall be practising the altogether more difficult Vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell-'

'Hem, hem.'

'I wonder,' said Professor McGonagall in cold fury, turning on Umbridge, 'how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk while I am talking.'

Umbridge looked as though she had been slapped in the face. She did not speak, but began scribbling furiously on her parchment.

Looking supremely unconcerned, Professor McGonagall addressed the class once more.

'As I was saying: the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be Vanished. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. This is, therefore, magic you cannot accomplish with your mind on dinner. So - you know the incantation, let me see what you can do… '

Umbridge did not follow Professor McGonagall around as she had Trelawney; perhaps she realised Professor McGonagall would not permit it. She did, however, take many more notes while sitting in her corner, and when Professor McGonagall finally told them all to pack away, she rose with a grim expression on her face.

Dean had Vanished most of his mouse. All that was left of it were a few quivering whiskers. John's, however, was still mostly visible, having only managed to Vanish its paws and tail.

As they all began to file out of the classroom, Umbridge approached Professor McGonagall's desk.

'How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?' Umbridge asked.

'Thirty-nine years this December,' said Professor McGonagall, snapping her bag shut.

'Very well,' said Umbridge, making a note, 'you will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time.'

'I can hardly wait,' said Professor McGonagall, in a coldly indifferent voice. 'Winchester, come up here a moment.'

Dean started and threw his bag over his bag over his shoulder, going up to Professor McGonagall's desk.

'Yes, Professor?'

'I don't want you to be disheartened by the grade you received today,' she said and his eyebrows shot up. 'This is already a marked improvement on your previous performance, so I want you to think of this as a first step, rather than a failure. You're doing very well.'

'Wow. Thanks, Professor.'

'You're welcome. Keep up the good work.'

Dean caught up with the rest of the Gryffindors and made their way down to Care of Magical Creatures. Umbridge was there already, to inspect their lesson. Dean stood as far away from her as possible, at a table crawling with Bowtruckles, and he spotted the red rash on the back of John's hand.

'What did she make you write?' he asked.

'"I must not make threats",' John muttered, feeding woodlice to one of the Bowtruckles.

Dean snorted. 'Was it a threat?'

John shrugged. 'Dunno. Felt true when I said it.'

Harry got detention once more for shouting at Malfoy, and he moodily stabbed at his dinner before going up to Umbridge's office.

'Where do you wanna study today?' Dean asked Cas as they left the Great Hall.

'Gryffindor Tower, I think. It's cold in Ravenclaw.'

'Sure thing.'

They climbed the stairs all the way up, but Dean held Cas back outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

'What is it?' Cas asked.

'I just wanted to tell you that I've been around a lot of crazy stuff. You know, monsters, Demons, all that. I know dangerous when I see it, and there's not an ounce of it in you. Okay?'

Cas's expression softened. 'I appreciate that.'

They unpacked all their books at the table by the window, away from everyone else, and quietly got to work.

Ron spread his out on the floor near the fire, frowning at how much he had to do, while Hermione watched him with a mixture of concern and amusement, and John and Sherlock just lay together on one of the squashy sofas.

Dean slowly made his way through his work, until a tapping sound on the window next to him distracted him. He looked up to see an owl sitting outside. He opened the window and it fluttered over to Sherlock.

'It's from Mycroft,' he said, sitting up and ripping the letter open.

The owl flew back out the window, which Dean closed behind it.

Sherlock quickly read the letter and tutted. 'He says Umbridge isn't his concern and he has far more important things to be doing than forcing the toad woman to teach us properly.' He handed the letter to John. 'See if you can see the important things he's meant to be doing.'

John took it and stared for a moment, then shook his head. 'He's hungry,' John said, giving it back to Sherlock. 'He didn't have dinner today.'

'Useless,' Sherlock muttered, throwing the letter onto the fire.

'I thought your brother was supposed to be helpful,' Ron grumbled.

'More helpful than your brother,' Sherlock snapped.

'You're such a git,' Ron fumed, balling up a piece of parchment and lobbing it at him.

'Dean,' Cas said quietly, drawing his attention back to his homework. 'I'll be right back, will you be all right for a few minutes?'

'Sure, where are you going?'

'The hospital wing. I'm just getting some Murtlap essence for Harry, I have a feeling he'll need it.'

'Okay.'

Cas got up and softly squeezed Dean's shoulder as he passed.

Static passed through Dean where Cas touched him and he shivered.

Cas returned with a large bowl, and eventually everyone but Ron finished their homework, but no one wanted to go to bed until Harry came back.

Hermione began pacing anxiously, while the rest of them settled by the fire. 'We've got to do something about Umbridge,' she said, chewing a fingernail. 'This can't go on.'

'We could always poison her,' Ron said, shoving away the work he'd given up on.

Hermione rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, but then the portrait hole opened and she took the Murtlap essence from Cas.

'Here,' she said, 'soak your hand in that, it should help.'

A look of relief flooded Harry's face and he sat down with Crookshanks in his lap. 'Thanks.'

'I still think you should complain about this,' Ron said in a low voice.

'No.'

'McGonagall would go nuts if she knew-'

'Yeah, she probably would,' said Harry. 'And how long do you think it would take her to pass another decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?'

'She's an awful woman,' said Hermione. 'Awful. We've got to do something about what a dreadful teacher she is. We're not learning any Defence from her at all.'

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

'Well,' Hermione said tentatively. 'You know, I was thinking today that maybe the time's come when we should just - just do it ourselves.'

'Do what ourselves?' Harry said suspiciously.

'Well - learn Defence Against the Dark Arts ourselves.'

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

'But this is much more important than homework!'

Everyone stared at her.

'I didn't think there was anything 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 for us out there. It's about making sure we can really defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year -'

'We can't do much by ourselves,' said Ron. 'I mean, all right, we can go and look up jinxes in the library and try and practise 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…'

'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 her.

Hermione heaved a very deep sigh. 'Isn't it obvious? I'm talking about you, Harry.'

'About me what?'

'I'm talking about you teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

Harry stared at her.

'That's an idea,' said Ron.

'Me?' said Harry. 'I can't do that, I'm no teacher. You've beaten me on every test anyway-'

'Actually, I haven't,' Hermione said 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, think about what you've done!'

'How d'you mean?'

'You know what, I'm not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me,' Ron smirked. 'Let's think… First year, you saved the Philosopher's Stone from You-Know-Who.'

'But that was luck, it 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,' Ron said, 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! 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 doing half the time, I didn't plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help. 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 it because I was brilliant at Defence 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 as Harry furiously stood up. 'You don't know what it's like! None of you have had to face him, have you? You think it's just memorising a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time 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 a nanosecond 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 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, 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, whose face was stricken.

'Harry,' she said timidly, 'don't you see? This is exactly why we need you. We need to know what it's like facing him… facing V-Voldemort.'

'Listen, Harry, I get it,' said Dean, watching Cas's clenched fists out of the corner of his eye. 'A lot of it is instinct, but you gotta start somewhere, and it's always better to have someone with experience show you the ropes. That really can mean the difference between life and death.'

'And Dean could help you,' said John.

'What?' said Dean.

'Yeah, Dean has experience too, so you wouldn't be doing it by yourself.'

'Wait, wait, I don't know if I can do that,' Dean said nervously. 'I mean, sure I have experience, but I've never killed a Basilisk or anything, that's pretty cool, how did you even do that?'

'With a sword,' said Sherlock. 'I was there, I saw him do it.'

'With a sword? That is so-' Dean cut himself off at Harry's expression.

'I think it would be a good idea,' Cas said quietly, giving Dean a small, encouraging smile.

Dean cleared his throat. 'I-yeah, I guess I could help, you know, if you wanted me to.'

'Just - just think about it,' said Hermione. 'Please?'

Harry nodded, finally calming down.

'All right, well I think we should all go sleep on it,' Dean said. 'It's late.' He began to pack away all of their books and whispered to Cas. 'Are you okay? Do you need to go downstairs?'

'I'm all right, thank you, Dean,' Cas whispered back.

'Okay, good,' Dean nodded. 'See you tomorrow?'

'I have Quidditch practice, but we can study afterwards.'

'Fine by me. I'll come watch you fly for a while. I got nothing better to do.'

'You could try to do some of your homework alone,' Cas said, smiling again.

'Yeah, but that's no fun.'

Cas just shouldered his bag and said goodnight.

Dean too went to bed, along with everyone but Harry, who stayed behind to clear up the bowl he'd smashed. He drew his curtains about his bed, and hoped that he wouldn't disturb the others with the nightmares that were sure to come that night.

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to ConstantineHolmes, Guest and Meep for the reviews!

Okay guys, really sorry for the long wait, I'm still kinda sick, so I've not been writing as much. I got my very own assistance dog, in fact! I do eventually want to increase my posting frequency to what it was, but I can't make any promises. Thanks so much for being so patient with me if you're still here! I hope I see you again soon.