Quick note, I decided to have Harry troll the shit out of Umbridge until Dumbledore is going to be forced out of the castle.
The Keeper Of Worlds: While I have thought about doing that, I figured the Ministry will more likely begin open warfare.
xp3r1a: I've toyed with the idea of Harry having a pet snake, or him spawning a basilisk; you only need to have a frog sit on a chicken egg. I won't have him learn parselmagic, though. In any case, Harry's focus will be his Lightning Dragon Slayer magic. Anyway, I wouldn't consider the Unforgivable Curses standard; you only think they are because we've read so many fanfictions saying that.
qwe123: Influence from Batman? What do you mean?
sertry: I wouldn't say Snape's change was sudden. Harry showcased his power over Lightning over the summer. It is not a stretch that Snape was impressed by it. It is also not unreasonable that Dumbledore was getting through to him. And when Harry asked about chemistry, in the exact same way his mother did years ago, Snape had an epiphany; that maybe Harry was more like his mother. You'll find that a lot of the emotional changes of people who aren't Harry will take place outside of Harry's POV. I won't write about them, and I fully expect you to wonder just how it happened, without actually telling you. :P
After reading your many reviews, I've decided to go with option 4, until Umbridge has Dumbledore arrested. Then I'd switch to option 3. Open war on the Ministry.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
ooooooooooooooo
Lightning Dragon's Roar
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
By Zero Rewind
© 2014
ooooooooooooooo
"Hashirama's country was a shameful contradiction... Man seeks peace, yet at the same time yearning for war. Those are the two realms belonging solely to man." - Uchiha Madara (Naruto, Chapter 661)
Chapter 10: Threats
"Edge!" I shoved my hand through yet another unfortunate desk, shrapnel flying everywhere as my lightning coated hand jutted out the other side, unscathed. I shook my head. It needed to be much cleaner than this. My lightning needed to be sharper. I moved to another desk, and readied another attack.
"Edge!" It was slightly cleaner this time, but still unsatisfactory.
That's what I've been doing for the past 30 minutes; just using Edge, over and over. After my talk with Professor Snape, I went to have a light lunch, avoiding curious questions from Ron and Hermione— who would probably try to kill me for skipping class, even it was Divination— before finding myself a nice, abandoned class room to practice in.
It looked like it hadn't been used in ages, judging from the thick layer of dust that I had to clean up. Let it be known that I could make a decent housewife— or is it househusband?
"Edge! Pierce properly, damn it!" I swore as another desk was subjected to my impaling strike.
This just wasn't working. I wasn't really cutting through the desk. My hand was only bursting through the flimsy thing because of the brute force given to me from the amount of energy channeled into said hand. I unceremoniously sat down on one of the chairs, and began to think.
Didn't I shape my hand in the form of a knife, and force my energy to shape itself accordingly as well? When I had stuck my hand into a wall yesterday morning, it was like I attempted to stab a sword into it. The experience was very jarring and painful.
Maybe I was doing this all wrong. I already had the brute force and the speed behind the strike. I just needed to figure out how to drill through the enemies.
Wait...
"Of course!" I blurted out, eyes widening in happy realization. "I need to drill through them!"
I remembered Vernon using his power drill quite often, back in the day. The concept behind it was simple. Using his brute force, and a high speed spinning drill-bit, Vernon could pierce through the wall. Fuck, how did I not think of this before?
Like I said, I already had the brute force aspect down, so all I really needed to accomplish was the spinning aspect. I summoned my lightning to my hand, noting how easy it has become to do so, before gently placing it on a nearby desk. It made a small indent, but went no further. Where to go from here?
Spinning my hand was out of the question, since I could only twist it a hundred and eighty degrees back and forth. Trying it out made me wince in pain, my bicep not used to such erratic movement.
No, I needed to go about it another way. Perhaps if the lightning itself spun? I'd never done that before— spinning my lightning, that is. So far, I've mostly worked on calling it forth, and giving it a rough shape.
I lifted my hand so that it was right in front of my face, before concentrating. My electricity flared to life, as I channeled almost double the amount of power as before. I concentrated on the image of a drill bit, trying to will my lightning to assume that shape.
Surprisingly enough, the lightning obeyed, taking the form of long cone with many ridges adorning the side. Next, I made it spin. This was less easy, but I managed to get it done, though I felt the speed was lacking. I would have to work on that. For now, it would have to do. I'd already been shoving my hand through these desks without the spin motion, so there was no danger here.
I stood up, and went to an intact desk. The drill shaped lightning was spinning with a strange hum— alongside the regular crackling noise. It made for a strange tune.
"Please work... Edge!" I thrust my hand at the top of the desk, and it came out of the other side— with very little shrapnel! It was an almost clean, circular hole; light years better than my previous attempts. The lightning receded into my hand as I began cheering in success.
"Yes!" I celebrated, and removed my hand from the desk, wiping the sweat off my brow. I checked my watch— something Sirius had given me in the summer— and realized I had fifteen minutes until my Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I swore, before grabbing my book bag, and leaving.
"Let's recap." I murmured to myself, a habit I developed some time during this last summer. I finally figured out the trick to using Edge; I still needed to work on the spinning speed, though that would probably come with time and experience, to be honest.
The Breakdown Fist could definitely crack concrete right now, though I still had a way to go with that one; the problem was concentrating a fair amount of power into the exit point— my fist, in this instance. Again, a matter of experience.
I've also been capable of increasing my speed by infusing my muscles with my lightning. I'd say I was.. four times faster? Perhaps three. I didn't have any high tech equipment on hand to tell me the exact figures. I was forced to mentally count how many seconds it took me to cross from one side of the room to the other. It wasn't deadly accurate, but one had to work with what they had.
Anyway, this also had the added effect of increasing my reaction speeds. I could probably play professionally as a Seeker, or even a Keeper, if I wanted to. It's easy to block a Quaffle if time is slowed down considerably, wouldn't you agree?
So, what was left? I pondered this as I descended the stairs on the way to the Third Floor, where the Defense class was going to take place. I suppose I could work on my dodging skills... I could bewitch a few bludgers to make them target me. Add to that an obstacle course; that should help greatly improve my awareness in a battlefield.
I still had to work on my Roar, as well. I figured I'd save that particular spell up for last, because it was likely going to be the most energy intensive attack in my arsenal. It consisted of gathering all of my lightning into a single point— my mouth, before releasing it in one mighty roar, completely obliterating anything in its path. As much I wanted to try it right now, I did not believe I was ready for it. Not yet.
I ambled into the Defense classroom, noting that almost everyone was here, including Professor Umbridge, who was still wearing her disgusting fluffy pink cardigan, and a black velvet bow on top of her head. I took a seat next to Ron and Hermione, giving a small sigh in relief for not being late to this particular class. Who knew what kind of punishment Umbridge would try to force on me? Being the Ministry's stooge, she was probably tasked with bringing me and Dumbledore down.
"You stink." Ron said tactlessly after sniffing the air a few times.
"Thanks, mate!" I answered cheerfully, punching him lightly on the shoulder.
"I can't believe you skived off Divination, on the first day, too!" Ron grinned at me, before freezing, realizing his mistake. Behind him, Hermione looked shocked, before switching to an angry look. Was she gonna go all prefect on me, take points and assign detentions?
I shook my head at her, stopping whatever outburst was bound to happen.
"Now is not the time." I warned the girl in a dangerous tone of voice, giving her a significant look. She, possessing at least a modicum of common sense, nodded in resignation. More students began shuffling into the class, before the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the class.
"Well, good afternoon!" Professor Umbridge began, when students were all settled in.
She got a few halfhearted "Afternoon"s in reply.
"Tut, tut." Who does that? "That won't do. I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. One more time: good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge." I simply mouthed the words, glancing at my fellow students. Most of them looked exasperated, and with good reason. That was probably one of the worst ways to start a class I've ever seen; and I'd had classes with Quirrell and Lockhart!
"There, now. That wasn't too difficult, was it?" Umbridge said in that condescending, sugary sweet voice of hers. "Wands away and quills out, please."
She went to the blackboard, with her ridiculously small wand— there was a joke in there, somewhere— and tapped the board with it.
On it, the words "Defense Against the Dark Arts, A Return to Basic Principles." appeared. Basic principles, huh?
She then went on to speak about the fragmented education that we had, due to the fact of having four different wizards teach the class in the past four years. She then went on to say that we were far below the standard of the OWLs— I suppressed a laugh, at that.
"—We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved—" Ah, there was the key word: Ministry-approved. Big Brother is watching you, children. You have to obey the Ministry's every word, or you could find yourself in dire straits, you slaves
I kept my face impassive, as Umbridge continued to drone on about how this was all carefully made by experts at the Ministry. More of that pointless legal talk she liked to spew at everything that had a pulse.
A few minutes later, we had our books out, reading the first chapter of Defensive Magical Theory. I'd already tried to read this book, before deciding it was utter garbage, filled with submission/negotiation tactics and the like; in other words, letting the enemy win without putting up a fight. There was no way in hell that I would even consider doing such a thing.
It was a horribly boring experience. I wished I could take a nap, like I did during old Binns' class. Instead, I simply focused on the first sentence, reading it over and over, pretending I was understanding it.
I began to stroke my non-existent beard, and to 'hmm' in understanding and realization, pretending to be oblivious to the building snickers around me. I turned the page, and began 'hmm'-ing again.
"Mr. Potter?" Professor Umbridge's voice broke my 'concentration'.
"Hmm?" I slowly looked up from my book, seeing Umbridge with a look of annoyance on her face. I tried not to smirk in her face; that would give me away.
"Is something wrong, Professor Umbridge? You look a little flushed. Do you have a fever? I can take you to Madam Pomfrey, if you wish. She has some very effective cures against fevers." I said in false concern, giving her what I thought was an alarmed look. Ron was fighting back a laugh.
Hermione, who's had her hand up for the past five minutes, merely glowered at me.
"No, Mr. Potter. There will be no need for that." The woman automatically denied. "I am quite all right. I was going to ask you to lower your voice. This is supposed to be a silent reading period."
"Lower my voice? Whatever do you mean?" Play dumb, it always works! Her left eye twitched slightly. SUCCESS!
"You were humming the whole time you were reading." She informed me tersely.
"I— I was?" I pretended to give her a childish look of amazement at her revelation, kind of like when kids got to meet Santa.
"Are you sure, Professor?" I asked the woman, with a skeptic look on my face.
"Yes, Mr. Potter. I am quite sure." She was beginning to look exasperated. Better stop screwing around for a while.
"My apologies, then, Professor Umbridge. I will endeavor to be as silent as the night." I promised, before stroking my chin as I continued to 'read', nodding every other line, to the amusement of the class.
Umbridge said nothing, this time. She couldn't give me detention for an odd quirk that didn't really disrupt the class.
I gave a quick glance to my left, seeing that Hermione's hand was still up, her book not even open— wait, what? Hermione not reading a book? Preposterous!
She really wanted her question answered, didn't she? Sheesh. More time passed by, with everyone beginning to openly look between Hermione and Umbridge, just to see who would crack first, in this silent battle of wills.
As it were, Umbridge lost. Against Hermione, was there any doubt?
"Did you want to ask me something about the chapter, dear?" Umbridge pretended that she wasn't ignoring the girl up to this point.
"Not exactly, no." Hermione answered.
"Well, we're reading at the moment." Umbridge said sweetly, showing how inflexible her personality was. "If you have other questions, we can deal with them at the end of the class."
"I've got a question about your course aims." Hermione pressed on. Let it be known that she was one stubborn lady. With enough prodding, she could probably make Dumbledore— a man known for his unwavering patience— rip his hair out in frustration.
"And your name is...?" Umbridge prompted. I narrowed my eyes, having learned from a few Order members that people in the Wizarding world judged you by your last name. If it didn't sound like any 'pureblood' name they knew, that person would avoid you at all costs, in fear of dirtying his/her blood by simply being in your presence.
"Hermione Granger." Hermione answered. I wondered if she thought the same thing I did when that question was asked. For all her intelligence and book smarts, Hermione was sometimes very naive.
I noticed Umbridge's face darken in response; pureblood supremacist, detected!
"Well, Miss Granger, I believe that the course aims are perfectly clear if you read through them carefully." She said sweetly, motioning to the blackboard.
"Well, I don't." Hermione disagreeing with a teacher? I didn't think I could handle more surprises. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."
I glanced at the blackboard, reading the course aims for the first time. As usual, the bushy haired girl was right. The words 'defensive magic' appeared three times in the course aims, but the words I focused on were at the start of each line: 'Understanding the principles; Learning to recognize; Placing the use of defensive magic in context'. Essentially, it was all theory and no practice.
"Using defensive spells?" Umbridge laughed. "I can't imagine a situation arising in this classroom that would require you to use defensive magic. Surely, you aren't expecting to be attacked during your class?"
A few outcries erupted at that statement, with Ron being the most vocal.
"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. —?" Umbridge was addressing Ron.
"Weasley." And the ginger raised his hand. She answered by ignoring him.
She went on to denounce Hermione's view on what Defense Against the Dark Arts was supposed to be like, seeing as she was not a 'Ministry-trained educational expert'. An expert at what? Hiding from the truth? The Ministry was a bunch of cowards. Garbage.
For a moment, I wanted to stun her, before kicking her out of the castle.
However, I reined myself in. There was no real gain in doing that. Sure, I would feel better, but that would only last for a short time, before the Ministry brought the Aurors down on me. I wasn't ready for them. Not yet.
Let her talk, and dig her own grave. When the time came, I would be happy to bury her myself.
Umbridge kept giving the students non-answers, until Parvati asked her own, worried about the practical part of the OWL examinations.
The professor kept assuring her that studying the theory will prepare everyone for the practical bit of the test. I had enough.
"It won't be enough." I said firmly. It was probably the first thing I'd said after screwing around during the reading period. "And besides, what good is the theory going to be in the real world?"
"This is school, Mr. Potter." She disagreed calmly. "Not the real world."
"Are you saying we're supposed to do nothing to prepare for what's out there?"
"There is nothing out there, Mr. Potter." She said calmly, though I could see a hint of anticipation in her eyes. I saw it for what it was: she was trying to bait me into talk about Voldemort, so she could punish me.
Too bad I'm the mothafuckin masterbaiter! Silly toad, you're playing The Game, and you've already lost.
"Of course there is." I disagreed, faking an indignant angry look.
"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" She asked sweetly, lacing her question with an insult directed at my age. How unoriginal.
"Who?" I gave her an incredulous look. "Come now, Professor Umbridge. Dark wizards do exist. If they didn't, we would not need the Aurors to defend us."
"If there were no dangers in our society, Knockturn Alley would be a very safe place to pass through." I said with a smile. "Sadly, as it turns out, it is not safe." A few students laughed at that.
I cleared my throat. "As I'm sure you're well aware, two years ago, the infamous mass murderer Sirius Black escaped the Azkaban Prison." I ignored Hermione's gasp. Umbridge looked annoyed I was dangling the Ministry failure in front of her.
It sucked to use Sirius' example like this, but it was one of the few options I had. This way, I could stress the importance of learning defensive spells without getting a detention.
"He managed to infiltrate Hogwarts, and remain within its grounds for months on end." I said heavily. "Furthermore, the presence of the dementors increased the level of danger even more, since they did not care about who they attack. I think I recall many students in this very room visiting Madame Pomfrey after encounters with them."
At the mention of dementors, Umbridge's face switched to a panicked look, before going back to annoyed. Wonder what that's about?
"That's only one situation, Mr. Potter." Umbridge retorted, trying to take control again. "We have rectified the situation with the dementors, and Sirius Black will be caught by our elite Aurors sooner or later."
"With all due respect." I answered coolly, cutting off whatever tirade she was about to go on. "You have not rectified the situation, or do you not remember the trial in August, in which I was forced to defend myself for using the Patronus Charm on two dementors in Little Whinging— a region far from Azkaban?"
She looked at me in mute anger. Suck on that, bitch!
"Anyway, as to not needing to use spells. Suppose you wanted to travel the world; one of your destinations is the jungles of South America." I took a breath. "As you may have heard, many of the Wizard villages there are lawless, filled with murderers and thieves."
"And why, Mr. Potter, would any of you travel there?" Umbridge asked.
"To see the sights, of course." I answered easily. "Nature has a way of creating beautiful sceneries that must be seen in person."
"Of course." I continued in a loud voice, still not letting Umbridge speak.
"There is always another threat. A threat that would annihilate us in an instant if it wished to do so." I said gravely.
"What threat, Mr. Potter?" Professor Umbridge said as sweet as honey, incorrectly thinking I was about to announce Voldemort's return. She almost looked giddy.
"What threat?" I repeated with wide eyes. "Surely you know, Professor Umbridge? I believe the Minister interacts with them quite often, does he not?"
"Interacts with who?" Umbridge asked in confusion.
"Why, the Muggles, of course!" I answered with a smile. Hermione frowned, as did the other Muggleborns. Ron was looking at me skeptically.
There was a long silence, that lasted quite a while. Then Umbridge scoffed.
"Muggles?" She spat out disdainfully, all pretenses of sweetness dropped for a moment. "What can they do against us?"
"Quite a bit, I'm afraid. I mean no offense to Muggles, of course." I told the woman. The Muggleborns were mollified by this.
"First, it bears to mention that they outnumber us by far." I started. "The current Muggle population of the world is estimated to be around seven billion— give or take a hundred million. The population of Wizarding Britain is estimated to be around ten thousand." I revealed, making people's eyes widen.
"If they ever decided to declare war on us, we would not stand a chance. The wizards of the past were wise in creating links to the Muggle government: their smart decisions have protected our community for centuries."
I swallowed, before continuing.
"Their weapons, can match— and in some cases easily outshine ours— in pure destructive power." I said. "Take a gun for example. It was a small device that launches metal projectiles at the enemy at great speeds."
"Wouldn't the Shield Charm stop those?" Some nameless 'pureblood' asked in a haughty tone.
"If you're fast enough, I suppose." I gave them the impression that I was relenting, luring them into my trap. "On the other hand, do you know how fast these projectiles are?"
No one answered. Not even Hermione— she probably knew it was fast, but not the exact number. Hermione never answered a question in class if she didn't know exactly what the answer was.
"No one?" Some shrugged at my question. "Well, I'll put it in a way you can understand." I said, before clapping once. The class looked at me in confusion, while Hermione and some others were realizing the implications.
"Y-You're saying it's as fast as sound?" A student dared to ask, causing others to gasp at the revelation.
"Oh, goodness no." Some of them, including Umbridge sighed in relief. Good. Time to deliver the blow.
"It's actually three times faster than that."
Utter silence met my words.
"Fret not. It gets much worse." I said with a smile. "These weapons are but walking sticks, when compared to the sheer destructive power of their explosive devices."
"I'm sure you are all aware of the Second World War?" I asked, and got wry looks in answer. "Good, have you heard about the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki?"
I got some nods.
"For those of you who don't know, the United States retaliated against Japan in 1945, by launching a single bomb for each city. The bombs had a yield of fifteen thousand tonnes of dynamite. It was enough to destroy the entire city—" Well, it had only destroyed around 65% or something, but they didn't know that.
"Since then, the Muggles have managed to increase the destructive power of these bombs, by over a thousand fold. I have no doubt that they could destroy entire countries, if they were inclined to do so." I informed the class, staring at each and every student, before turning to Umbridge, a polite smile on my face.
"My apologies for the impromptu speech, Professor Umbridge." I said sweetly. "May I proceed in the reading of Chapter One?"
"...You may."
I began to scratch my chin and nod at the book, once more, ignoring the stares I was getting from my classmates.
ooooooooooooooo
Well, that was fun.
You know, I realized, when I first began writing this story, I got two reviews on my first chapter. Now, I have over 120... Thanks a lot for your support guys!
I'm gonna take a breather for a little while. I've been updating almost nonstop, haha.