A/N: I was so not okay yesterday but I am today. I'm going to update this now and work on getting all the other chapters edited and ready to go so I only have to update it rather than fiddle. It wouldn't be me without a bit of drama now, would it?
I'm also going to work on getting the majority of this work over on AO3 as well so keep an eye out for that. I know we are fewer than we were but thank you for hanging around. Much love.
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Seamus' mother's opinion seemed to follow Harry wherever he went. Consequently, Harry, Ron and Hermione spent as much time as possible outside but found that Hagrid's hut was shut up and the huge man was not on the grounds. On top of all of Harry's other worries, it was troubling to see the hut he loved visiting so much stand unattended.
"Where dya 'spose he is?" Ron asked at breakfast the following morning.
"I don't know," Hermione sighed, munching on her piece of toast, looking up at the empty seat at the Professor's table.
The owls swooped in, and Harry looked up in surprise as a regal looking screech owl landed between the toast and cornflakes, holding out its leg.
"Oh good," Hermione said, swallowing and scrambling for her bag.
"Hermione, who are you owling?" Ron asked, looking around the bird that had blocked his view.
"Pfft, no one," she scoffed. "But I thought it would be wise to know what's happening at the Ministry before it gets announced with a cough," she whispered, nodding up to the table of professors where the toad-featured woman was chewing daintily. "I read yesterday's; her appointment was due to Educational Decree #22. I found a Daily Prophet in the common room," she answered Ron's unasked question. "They did it on purpose."
"Good thinking," Harry said, nodding back to the owl, who was looking bored.
"Anything then?" Ron asked, picking bacon rind out of his teeth as she skimmed over the front page.
Hermione grimaced and read on, deliberately not looking at him until it was time to turn the page.
"No, but look at this," she folded it in half and showed them both.
"Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Gardens, Clapham, has appeared in front of the Wizengamot charged with trespass and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on 31st August. Podmore was arrested by the Ministry of Magic watch wizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak in his own defence, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban."
"Let me see?" Harry asked, leaning over. "I know that guy!"
"How?" Hermione asked. "He's," she looked around and dropped her head low. "He's part of the Order, but you weren't there when he came over."
"Sturgis Podmore? He's that bloke who looks like his head's been thatched, isn't he?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Moody showed me a photo, the night before last, of," he dropped his voice to barely a whisper. "Of the Order, the old one I mean, with my parents and Máthair and everyone."
"That was nice."
"Yeah," Harry muttered. He didn't say that he knew it was intended to be a nice gesture, but it had actually just made him sad and angry.
"Good Morning Gryffindors," Minerva said more cheerfully than Harry knew she felt. "Please stay where you are while I pass out your schedules, then you may get ready for class," she held up a hand as a First-Year rushed to speak. "If you know of anyone who has already left or is not yet here, let me know and you shall pass an extra timetable out to the missing person."
Hermione smiled as Minerva moved up the table and paused when she was level with them. She handed Ron's across the table, as usual, leaning on Harry's shoulder and rubbing his neck with her thumb lightly. Harry smiled as he looked down at his breakfast. She handed him his schedule but felt a wave of caution rush over him and looked up as Minerva moved away. He looked around with a frown and noticed that Umbridge was staring at him.
"Guys?" he muttered, staring back at her defiantly. "Let's go."
He saw Hermione do a much less obvious sweep of what was happening and stood up, glaring at Ron as he started to argue.
"Bring it with you," she hissed.
He seemed to understand something was amiss, so he grabbed the last of his bacon and trotted after them.
"What does it say?" Hermione said, looking around her.
"What?" Harry looked around too, wondering what she was talking about.
"Minerva gave you two schedules," Hermione said. "Don't you pay attention to anything?"
"Oh," Harry said, looking surprised as he realised that she was right. He examined it closely, turning it over in his hands. "Nothing," he said awkwardly.
"Well, there must be something we have to do to get it to show us," Hermione muttered.
"What is going on?" Ron asked, swallowing.
"Min -" Hermione paused as a group of Ravenclaws went past. "Harry's Máthair sent him a note."
"Whatss'it say?"
Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry continued to examine the parchment.
"Let's go back to the dorms so we aren't late," Harry mumbled, already on his way.
As they spoke the Gryffindor password, Harry felt the parchment warm slightly and he looked down in surprise.
"Trust Máthair," Harry grinned, showing Hermione as they walked through the hole.
They looked around the chaotic common room and found a secluded area where they could read Min's note.
Mo mhac, and my other darlings.
Ron's ears went pink when Harry grinned at him.
By now you've realised that all is not well. Be careful. Keep your tempers. Keep your heads down. This is worse than you think. It is imperative that you ignore her where it is possible.
I do not know when I will be able to see you all but we will find a time for tea or supper.
All my love, Máthair.
P.S. Burn this. Completely.
Harry looked at Ron and Hermione as they all understood that this new woman was more than a Ministry lackey. She was the enemy.
"Here Harry, let's do as she says."
Hermione produced the little jar they often carried her Bluebell flames in and she set the spell, offering it to him. He dropped the note in, and they watched the blue flame dance along its edges, making it float around the jar nonsensically.
"You understand her, Harry, don't you?" Hermione said, chewing her lip. "You have to be careful. They could be after Dumbledore, but they could also be out to get you," she grimaced in sympathy. "They already tried. Just," she frowned, her eyes betraying her worry. "Please be careful."
Harry nodded but was already wondering when he was going to have a normal year. The fact that Voldemort was back was terrifying and he could not believe the reluctance of the Wizarding world to believe it. He felt muted, and it was jarring. He hadn't felt this way since he lived with the Dursleys and somehow, in the world that had become his refuge, this was worse.
"Can't be much worse than Voldemort, surely," he said quietly, ignoring the twitch Ron gave.
"It's worse Harry," Hermione muttered, squeezing his hand. "Because she has permission to do as she likes and nobody can do anything about it."
He kept his head down all day. Snape was just as he expected him to be but Harry wondered how bruised his shin was from Hermione kicking him under the table so many times. After Potions, they all walked into Defence Against the Dark Arts carefully and quietly. Umbridge as a teacher was an unknown entity and they behaved accordingly.
As soon as she opened her mouth, they knew they were all in trouble. Even a few of the Slytherins were shifting uncomfortably as she demanded they greet her in that sing-song way. When she asked them to put their wands away, Harry's heart sank. They didn't have the time to read, Voldemort was back. They needed to train, to learn, to make sure they were prepared for when he made his move.
"Turn to page 5 and read Chapter One."
Harry, with gritted teeth, opened his book obediently, but after the first few pages, his concentration had all but escaped him. He glanced at Ron, who was staring blankly at the page and fiddling with his quill. He felt a modicum of relief that he wasn't the only one struggling with the basic, tedious content. He looked to his left and was surprised to see that Hermione hadn't opened her book at all, and he stared as she sat perfectly still with her hand raised.
It didn't take long for the rest of the class to lose interest in the pointless content and watch as their fellow student silently waited to be noticed.
"Yes?"
Harry sat dumbfounded as Hermione queried the course aims that Umbridge had put up on the board, and ultimately voiced the opinion that they all seemed to have.
"There is nothing about defensive spells," Hermione said resolutely, making Harry proud to be her friend.
Umbridge's reply turned Harry cold.
"We're not using magic?" Ron exclaimed loudly, furthering Umbridge's displeasure.
The vitriol that Umbridge spewed made Harry's blood boil. Calling Remus a dangerous half-breed produced a rushing noise in his ears. He was following the conversation as best as he could as one after another of his classmates voiced their displeasure and their support for using magic.
He heard his own voice speaking up above the din, and the to-ing and fro-ing culminated in him yanking his arm away from Hermione after screaming loudly and publicly about Cedric's death. The evil, ugly woman just sat there behind Moony's desk with a satisfied smirk on her face while he seethed.
"Come here Mr Potter, dear," she said so sweetly, he felt his lip curl.
She produced a roll of pink parchment and scribbled something on it, sealing it so he could not open it. She sent him out of her classroom and up to Minerva's office.
He didn't even make it to Godric's portrait before his Máthair found him. As he rounded the corner, he bumped into Peeves and the shouting match that ensued brought Minerva out of her office with a stern frown on her face.
"What is the meaning of this? Peeves? Shoo! Mr Potter, in."
He trudged up the steps to the office and stood in front of her desk, feeling all at once deflated. She had warned him and he had not kept his temper like she had asked.
"Harry?" Minerva said, meeting him and taking his shoulders in her hands. "Darling, whatever is the matter?"
He wordlessly held out the parchment and slumped away from the desk and onto the sofa, his head in his hands as Minerva read the note.
"Did you shout at Professor Umbridge?" she asked sternly.
"Yes," Harry spat, reeling it back in when he remembered who it was that he was speaking to.
"And did you tell her that Voldemort was back?"
"Yep," he grimaced.
"Did you call her a liar?"
"Yes."
"Have a biscuit mo mhac [my son]," she said, holding out a tin of his favourites.
"What?" he asked. She chuckled when he looked up at her and he took one without question.
"I warned you, but I am sorry that I could not do more to prepare you."
"Máthair, I'm so confused."
"I know Harry," she sighed, sitting beside him. "Darling, you need to be careful around her, she is more dangerous than you realise."
"You don't think she's a Death Eater do you?" His eyes bugged as the thought occurred to him.
"Heavens no," Minerva laughed. "As if they'd have her. But think of who she works for, who she reports to because I can tell you categorically that she does not report to Albus."
A shot of anger surged through him at the thought and the look on his face must have reflected that. Minerva put her arm around him as he understood what she meant.
"Did I stuff up?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she shrugged. "I'm sorry to tell you that you have detention every evening this week."
"What! But Máthair -"
"No," she said, cutting him off.
"But -"
"No Harry, I will not interfere, and you know why I cannot."
"Máthair," he sighed.
"Remember her speech?"
"Yeah?" Harry paused thinking back to what he and Hermione had deduced. "You were furious."
"I was, but did you listen? Did you hear what she was saying?"
"Yeah," he sighed again. "The Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts."
"Thank Merlin you and Ron have Hermione," she mused, pulling him back into her arms and holding him tight. "Please be careful mo mhac," she whispered, and Harry felt a shred of worry slip through her usually solid shield. "I'm not sure I can protect you from her if you don't."
"I'll try," Harry said honestly. "I promise I'll try."
