A new mind, a new you.
The next morning, Harry got a letter from Remus Lupin.
'Dear Harry,
I am disturbed to hear you were found injured on the train.
Rest assured that if it was that Greengrass girl, we will be sending her family a strongly worded letter. Your aunt Andromeda assures me the letter will be quite effective. Pure-blood stuff.
Madam Pomfrey also summarised the state of your bits, often hexed by Greengrass. Should all that messing about have caused you any permanent harm; either impotence or sterility, the Black family's lawyers will be cruel and creative in getting revenge.
So, basically, don't worry, we're positioning some protections for you, and both of us wish you a speedy recovery from whatever that was.
Remus Lupin.
Steward for the house of Black.
P.S. Getting rents for the first time in a while for the family. Apparently tenants find being threatened by a werewolf steward of an old and notorious house like Black motivating.'
Harry read the letter again. He had no idea why he'd been injured on the train, or how.
But Greengrass knew, and that seemed like a pretty simple solution.
Harry simply waited till after lunch, when most Slytherin fifth years had a free period and Greengrass could be questioned.
He found Greengrass with Pansy, Davis and Moon in the common room, all sharing essay work, to avoid having do the assigned amount of work.
Harry walked a bit closer "Greengrass?" asked Harry carefully, wand drawn, and a protego ready to go.
Greengrass looked up from her parchments with a scowl. She looked annoyed, thought Harry.
"What?" she said curtly.
"I'd like a word. In some privacy." said Harry, and Greengrass blushed "No" she said "I'm not that stupid."
Harry felt almost obliged to contradict her, but settled for a compromise "We can er, talk over in the corner by the crazy painting."
Pansy had her wand out, and Greengrass picked up her wand, and pointed at it at him and stood. Harry itched with a feeling of impending curses, but played as calm as he could, and walked over to the uncomfortable chairs that migrated into the corner by the painting of the insane wizard in his study. People, mostly first years, tried talking to the painting, and quickly discovered the wizard was quite mad. He babbled on about having forgotten himself, and sometimes ran, Harry remembered out one door, and back in the door on the opposite wall, over and over. It reminded Harry of old cartoons on TV, and also, therefore, Dudley hitting him when he was little.
Harry pressed his lips together, and waited for Greengrass to get there.
"What?" asked Greengrass, wand pointed at Harry at point-blank range.
"How did I get injured on the train" asked Harry.
Greengrass blinked at him. "What?" she asked, but suddenly sounded more confused than pissed off, Her wand went down.
"I know I got injured, but I don't know how. You were there" said Harry.
"You don't remember?" asked Greengrass, with a slight frown. "You were on the train, Sue, Weasley and I came to confront you about being an arsehole, and you were your usual smug self, then had a fit. Sue had to stun you to get you to stop screaming. You've forgotten? Poison gas from the Death eaters?"
"I have holes in my memory" admitted Harry.
"Well, you can talk to the crazy wizard in the painting." said Greengrass.
"You bothered talking to him?" asked Harry "Sardini's a strange painting."
"You learnt his name?" asked Greengrass "I didn't know he knew his name."
"Sometimes" said Harry. "I have spent a lot of time in the corner of the room in the last few years."
"Well nobody expected you to be a Slytherin" admitted Greengrass.
"Because I could never be ambitious," said Harry sarcastically, "It's not like I'd want to, for example, do all the subjects, and live."
"We all wish you'd just drop dead" said Greengrass.
"And then everyone wonders why I take precautions" said Harry firmly.
"Scaring Theodore till he wets himself is not a precaution" said Greengrass.
"If he wasn't a little mini-death eater, I wouldn't bother" said Harry.
"And Crabbe and Goyle?" asked Greengrass pointedly.
"Sit quietly and say nothing, and I can take them later" said Harry. "Only Zabini's a threat, and he's mostly a prat."
"Blaise is completely a prat" said Greengrass, putting her hands on her hips.
"Well we can agree on that" said Harry.
"You're just idly planning to murder Crabbe and Goyle?" asked Greengrass.
"Of course not. I'm shocked you'd suggest it" said Harry. "Without fathers to teach them to be evil, they're too thick to bother with."
"And you're not just holding them in reserve as minions?" asked Greengrass.
"Oh please. I'm just trying to get an education without dying, even though the school is crawling with possessed teachers, trolls, basilisks, dementors, murderers, ridiculously dangerous contests, and of course, death eater plots to kill me" said Harry. "At least it's better than where I was" he added.
"With the muggles." said Greengrass dismissively, and Harry sort of noticed with her hands on her hips that she had um… developed hips since last year.
"Most muggles are quite reasonable" said Harry hastily "I was with people who ignored me utterly."
"Oh" said Greengrass, and she looked slightly – Harry couldn't recognise the expression. Like she was surprised and not sneering.
"Well, good practice for Hogwarts, there was always some bullying too," said Harry "Now you've told me nothing, but I suppose expecting you to remember what I said – "
"You said you had done some things you regretted… just before your fit" said Greengrass, and Harry couldn't help feeling a deep disturbance in his spine, as if he –
"I said I had regrets?" asked Harry, his tongue dry in his skull. "Oh. Well, that… was helpful of you, Greengrass. I will still hex you back if you hex me," he added mechanically, his brain reminding him of one simple thought 'Regrets are the one way out –'
"You said afterwards 'You can never know how much you've helped me'" said Greengrass thoughtfully "I think that makes us even."
"That makes me not hex you" corrected Harry.
"And you threatened me with a nifty organ twisting curse" said Greengrass, with a faint frown.
Harry smiled "Oh, yes" he said "Turnabout for hexes to the bits. Specific for witches that need a good lesson."
"As if" said Greengrass "You're in my debt now" Greengrass turned on her heel haughtily, her hair flying about, and strode back to her friends. Harry kept an eye out, ready to lift his wand and shield, in case she turned and fired… but all she did was walk away.
Greengrass, Harry realised uncomfortably, had an … attractive arse. When the hell had Greengrass gotten even vaguely good-looking. She'd been just a long nose and blonde hair last year.
Ten feet away, Greengrass stopped and half turned, turning her head theatrically to Harry "And don't wink at me, that's just creepy." she said, and went over to talk, under a silencing charm of some sort to her friends, and Davis looked over at Harry coldly and mouthed something.
Harry idly imagined hexing the whole lot of them, and sighed. If he tried, the sixth and seventh years would probably pulverise him.
Harry went to bed, not even bothering to scare Nott, and realised that while it had been a defensive thing in fourth year, if Nott really was wetting himself, Harry was… probably as big an arsehole as Dudley. Harry sat on his bed and took off his shoes and eyed Nott, rabbity and nervy. He looked, Harry realised uncomfortably like a young Harry trapped in a room with Dudley.
It was, Harry thought, all a matter of role-models. All Harry had was his Aunt, and dead uncle, who ignored him, and Dudley who liked to hit him… at least till Harry could pay Dudley off. Dudley had taken being given piles of sweets pretty well.
As Harry tried to get to sleep, he wondered about bribing people with sweets. It wasn't difficult, and there was no risk of detentions, and the only people going to Madam Pomfrey would be someone else.
Defence against the Dark Arts class finally came, and Harry filed in at the same time as the other Slytherin students, not with them per se. People tended to give him a nice little safety bubble, or themselves, it didn't matter.
The classroom had changed. Gone were the creepy bones Mad-Eye had decorated with… or had that been fake Mad-eye? And there weren't tanks of Kappas and other dark creatures, that Professor Lupin had decorated with, and no framed portraits of Gildeory Lockheart either. But the room did smell, of a cloying perfume like roses, but subtly a stench. Harry quite liked roses, he thought, as he went to the same desk he always sat at. The one he'd shared with Granger for a half-term, while she plotted her escape to Beauxbatons. Harry felt anger in his belly, and his eyes felt hot and itchy.
Harry looked at the teachers' desk. There was a humanoid toad in a pink twinset, with a black bow in her hair sitting there. The Gryffindors barged in noisily, covering up any noise Davis, Perks or the other girls might ever make.
The bell tolled for start of class, and the toad stood up, and in an annoying fake-little-girl voice said "Oh hello class, I'm Professr Umbridge and I'm so looking forward to teaching you all this year."
Then she stared at the class.
"Well?" she grunted after a wait. "Say good afternoon to me."
"Good afternoon, professor Umbridge" said perhaps a third of the class. Harry couldn't believe it, muggle teachers stopped this sort of stuff once you were seven or so.
"You can do better than that" she said her fake-little-girl voice "On the count of three… one two… three."
"Good afternoon, professor Umbridge" said the class, and Harry felt that everyone had just lost ten IQ points, just like that. He looked back to check on Crabbe and Goyle. They might need help breathing soon.
"Mister Potter, eyes front!" said Umbridge. "Wands away, get out your quills, and your copy of Slinkhard's 'Defensive Magical Theory'. We are going to begin, at the beginning, please read and take notes on chapter one, basics for beginners."
Harry stared in disbelief at the bloated sack of idiocy at the professors' desk. Slinkhard's book had, Harry had checked, absolutely no spells in it at all. Just… words.
Harry eyed the witch and decided to keep his head down for a bit, see what kind of psycho she really was.
He got out quill, ink, parchment, and Slinkhard, and started trying to make notes on the first chapter. The basics were… apparently, avoiding conflict, deciding when to flee, and strategies for fleeing.
Harry checked the book for either a table of contents, or an index. It had neither, and that was to be expected of a magically produced book.
"Excuse me?" asked Nott's voice. Harry wanted to see if the twerp had his hand up.
"Hand up before asking a question" said Umbridge. So that was a no, thought Harry.
"Yes, Mr ?" asked Umbridge.
"Nott, Madam Professor Umbridge" said Nott.
"What is your question Mr Nott?" asked Umbridge.
"There do not appear to be any spells in Mr Slinkhards book" said Nott.
"This course has been designed by top minds at the ministry" said Umbridge "You will not need spells in class."
"What about OWLS?" asked Davis from behind Harry somewhere.
"Hand" said Umbridge. Harry looked back and Davis lifted her hand.
"Miss?" asked Umbridge.
"Davis" said Davis "OWL examinations in defence include a practical examination."
"Given sufficient preparation, you will have no difficulty performing adequately under the controlled conditions of a practicum" said Umbridge.
"No practice?" asked Ron Weasley loudly "We're going into OWLS with no practical tutorials?"
"HAND!" said Umbridge.
Ron stood up "I'm leaving. My father's a director at the ministry. We need practical tutorials."
"Sit down Mr Weasley" said Umbridge, loosing her pretence of not knowing who at last some people were. Weasleys were pretty distinctive, thought Harry.
Ron headed for the door, book-bag in hand.
"Mr Weasley, I am the Senior undersecretary to the Minister of Magic himself. Don't confuse being the son of the least important Director in the whole ministry with the ability to influence my position."
"Aren't" said Ron "You supposed to be Defence Professor? That's two full time jobs. Sounds like you don't do one at all, and I'd say, neither." and Ron tried to open the door, which Umbridge had charmed shut.
Ron rattled the door by pulling on the knob. A quick finite would do it, thought Harry. He'd not realised that Ron's father was a director. The least important one, but still, he wasn't as big a nobody as Draco and most other Slytherin's made out.
"Detention, Weasley" said Umbridge "Get back to your desk, and do your work" she said in that irritating face-little girl tone.
Harry wanted to use an organ twisting curse on her on principle. Even if that was in agreement with Weasley. And that was a ghastly thought. The next chapter was called 'Conflict resolution' and started talking about 'finding common ground'
Harry snorted. Common ground with Voldemort, well… not trusting Dumbledore, liking oxygen, that was about it. He had, Harry realised, more in common with Weasley. Harry eyed Umbridge. Maybe this was all an elaborate ruse, to get students to find common ground. That would make Umbridge the smartest defence professor they'd ever had, Harry thought. Well, maybe not smarter than Voldemort, but Quirrell did most of the work in that duo.
Harry imagined teaming up with Weasley, and he couldn't help snorting softly.
"And what is so funny, Mr Potter?" asked Umbridge. Harry looked up at the teacher, who was getting closer by the second. She looked… like Aunt Marge, but a witch, thought Harry. Well, and had even worse fashion sense than Aunt Marge. The buried hatred for the Dursleys had Harry feeling light-headed.
"Slinkhard's such a good writer" said Harry.
Umbridge looked at him and clearly didn't believe him.
"Which particular part of basics for beginners had you snorting with amusement, Mr Potter?" asked Umbridge.
"Um, I'd read that, so I was reading conflict avoidance, and then Weasley didn't avoid a conflict." said Harry.
"So you feel, as a fifteen-year old that you are qualified to rearrange the fifth-year defence against the dark arts course?" asked Professor Umbridge cheerily.
Harry resisted the urge to suggest that he could probably teach the course off the top of his head, as long as nobody minded it being just plain old Dark Arts. People could call it 'Defence Against' if that made them feel better.
Unfortunately, the thought had Harry smiling.
"Oh, you do, do you" said Umbridge, and Harry tried very hard not to laugh.
"And I suppose you're going to tell us that we should prepare for war, because you-know-who is back?" asked Umbridge sarcastically.
Harry burst out laughing. She was vile and stupid and … honestly, Voldemort. He was nearly as dead as disco. "He's dead" said Harry "Stupid overconfident twat."
"Detention tonight Mister Potter." said Professor Umbridge.
"Oh come one. He died trying to kill me, aged fifteen months" said Harry "That's pathetic. I mean, he killed my parents, so yeah, I hated him, but … walking into a trap they made with a baby as bait."
"So you don't hate the dark wizard who killed your parents" asked Umbridge in that fake little-girl voice again.
"Well, a bit pointless, he's deader than Weasley's quidditch career" said Harry.
"Fuck you Potter!" shouted Ron.
"No thanks" said Harry sarcastically. "I Prefer girls."
"Potter, Weasley, get out of my classroom." said Umbridge, her neck reddish with anger, as she wrote two detention slips "Go to your heads of house immediately."
Harry packed, took his things, and detention slip from a suspiciously vindictive looking Umbridge and left the defence classroom, and Weasley left moments later, trying to slam the door, and failing; Umbridge knew a spell for that.
"Hey, Weasley?" asked Harry "You going to McGonagall?"
"Umbridge will tell McGonagall, Potter" said Weasley angrily. He seemed really steamed up.
"Good luck with that" said Harry "McGonagall doesn't know when you got tossed. You can take all of the double period to get there."
Weasley looked confused by that, as Harry took his detention-slip, and effectively, Hall pass on a slow walk vaguely dungeon-wards.
Harry waited, reading useful textbooks till Snape was finished with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws and went in with the note. Snape read it, and said "Disrespectful behaviour. Detention tomorrow."
"Professor Umbridge said tonight… Sir" said Harry.
"With Professor Umbridge tonight" said Snape "With me tomorrow night."
"Friday night" said Harry. Snape was such an arse.