Harry knew from the moment Umbridge laid eyes on him that he wasn't acting at all as she had expected.
He could only guess what the likes of Fudge had whispered in her ear, especially if he still had Lucius Malfoy behind him, hands on the throne but not sitting upon it. The official word was that the head of House of Malfoy was being investigated for the claims made against him by Harry that he was a willing member of Team Nocturne. Yet despite so many people having seen him standing at Voldemort's side and fleeing with him after the Pack and the Johto Hoods had come so close to ending the spirit there were still many in Avalon that believed that it simply wasn't possible for the great and noble Lucius Malfoy to be a member of Nocturne. Lucius, Harry had learned, was claiming that the men that had attacked Harry were delusional fools that believed they could resurrect Team Nocturne. He'd even had the balls to claim that it hadn't been him at the graveyard at all and rather it had been a fake, a man who looked similar enough to him so that in the dark and chaos of battle everyone believed that the noble and kind Lucius Malfoy who was so willing to donate to charities and was a patron of the arts was a member of that vile organization. The fake even happened to have Lucius' rare pokemon… a lucky break, truly. The fact that he had claimed the very same thing during the war and that was how he'd escaped prison wasn't lost on Harry and his allies, though it was lost on too many in Avalon.
"At least this time his 'alibi' has an ounce of credibility," Remus had snarled when they'd discussed the matter after Tonks had informed them of the gossip around the ministry. "During the war he claimed that he had been held captive during the entire thing. Locked up in Riddle's underground bunker outside of Gaheris Corner, being starved and beaten, forced to create propaganda videos where he claimed he supported Nocturne… which was why the moment the war was done he traveled to Alola for several months so he could 'recover'. Very private resort, with doctors who ensured that when he finally did resurface he looked so healthy you'd never have suspected that he'd been a prisoner of war."
"And no one questioned how then that toerag Draco could be his son, since according to the timeline when the blond twit was conceived his father should have been in a cell?" Lance had questioned, still bitter over how Draco had reacted around Cynthia and Diantha.
"Avalonians are idiots, Lance," Clair had snarked, "I'm surprised they are able to figure out how to reproduce… most of it is probably things slipping in by accident…"
Jack had smirked and his accent had changed from the typical Johto brogue to Avalon's Estuarty accent. "Oh, I say Clair, it appears my unmentionables have slipped into yours."
"How odd," Clair said, mimicking Jack's accent. "Whatever shall we do?"
"I suppose we must finish though I do find this all very unnecessary. Tea and crumpets!"
Those from Avalon hadn't taken kindly to that… or the laughter from the Johto contingent.
Unfortunately their mockery of the intelligence of most Avalonians seemed to have merit. Public opinion, from what Harry had gathered, was firmly split 50/50 concerning if Lucius was truly a member of Team Nocturne… and those that thought he was were more motivated by jealousy than facts. Thus rather than hide away in his mansion he was able to move about freely without a care. Not that Harry believed Lucius didn't care what was being said of him; no, he knew that the Head of House Malfoy was remembering ever ill word and dirty look he was getting and plotting his revenge when the rumors about him had died down and he was able to move into the shadows once again. He wasn't a man that brushed aside insults and mockery.
The only place that Lucius Malfoy had been keeping a low profile was the Ministry. While Fudge couldn't be so brazen as being seen with someone being investigated for being an Admin for one of the most wanted terrorist organizations in the world that didn't mean Fudge would turn away from his richest backer. He couldn't be seen publicly with the man and the best he could say in his defense was that he was sure the truth they all wished to hear would come out, but when no one was around? Oh yes, Harry knew even without proof that Lucius Malfoy was still the man behind the throne, helping to ensure that Fudge remained in power.
And that could only mean that Umbridge had heard all about Harry from a Prime Minister who saw him as little more than a trouble maker and a Lord who held a grudge whose son thought him to be a loudmouth braggart with no impulse control (Harry knew that much as Draco had very subtly told him at breakfast a few days ago that his father had warned Umbridge that Harry was a loudmouth braggart with no impulse control).
He'd almost been able to read her thoughts when she'd seen him in Dumbledore's office. 'This isn't the brash, angry young man I was warned about! The one who was spitfire and venom, with no ability to hold his tongue or his temper.' She had expected someone overly filled with anger who didn't take any insult no matter how slight and whose flight or fight reflex was firmly in fight. Someone who when shoved would shove right back. A child who focused only on the now and did not bother to think even a single step ahead. In her mind (and sadly Harry had a feeling in the minds of many of those in Hogwarts) he was reckless and willing to rush headlong into any situation. The worst stereotypes of Gryffindors and Johtoians rolled into one package.
'But that isn't who I am,' Harry thought to himself as he sat in the second row of the history classroom, the BINNIS Projector cold and quiet after having been unplugged. 'That was my father… but not me.' He'd heard from Remus and Sirius tales of his father and of Peter Petrigrew and their days as the Marauders. And while he laughed at his father's actions… he saw that while he might resemble his father he was not him in spirit. His father had been brash and he had been bold and… he had been a bully early on. One that Harry wondered would have focused on him much as Dudley had.
Nor was he his mother. Lily Evans may not have played pranks but that didn't mean she was some calm and controlled woman. No… as a girl his mother had been as fiery as her hair. Even Remus had admitted that Lily would react first if pushed and it had been common for her to leap from her seat and scream insults at those that mocked her with such an intensity the walls of Hogwarts seemed to shake. It got her in trouble but she kept doing it each and every time. His mother had been brilliant, smarter than Harry was, he knew that, but her temper had been far more fierce than his.
'I have my father's looks and my mother's eyes but I'm not either of them. I am Remus' calculating mind and Sirius swagger. Lance's determination and Jack's hunter instinct. Jonas' cunning and Lugia's inner strength.' For a moment he felt the sensation of the bits of soul he'd gained from Leafeon during the Long Talk and Hedwig from their Magnus bonding and he forced them down deep inside. He was a Mightyenya among the Mareep, able to hide and play his part until it was time to strike.
Thus Harry didn't nothing but smile politely as Umbridge walked into the classroom, a small little handbag clutched in her gloved hands, a pillbox hat that matched her muted pink jacket and long skirt perched on top of her lightly curled and short hair. Her doll-like eyes (more because of the lack of emotion and not because of any cuteness or childishness that might have been found in them) gazed over the room and despite the feeling of thousands of little insect legs crawling along his spine as she paced with her Medusa-like gaze upon him he did not reaction in the slightest. She too didn't react save for a slight twitch in her lips; they were playing a mental game of Driftveil Hold'em and the pink Seismitoed had just revealed her tell. Harry instantly knew that she was annoyed that he was being so polite but that was mixed with approval of the respect he was giving her… and frustration because she couldn't tell if he truly did respect her. He only hoped that the rest of the Gryffindors were doing as he had recommended and were sitting straight-backed and at attention.
"Hemhem," Umbridge said, flashing them a smile that made the ones on canvases that hung in Hogwarts seem more real, "good morning class."
"Good morning Professor Umbridge!" the Gryffindors said loudly and cheerfully, the Slytherins looking at them in confusion with only a few quickly catching on and joining in.
"…come now, we… we can do better than that," Umbridge said and once more the Gryffindors gave their greeting with the Slytherins joining in. Still, it was clear to even the likes of Draco's bookends Crabbe and Goyle that she hadn't expected the Gryffindors to be the polite ones and the Slytherins to need the push. "Now then, I believe that it is time for us to give the Pledge of Allegiance." She pressed a button on her desk and on the projector screen behind her the words to her newly created pledge flashed for all to see. "Please stand…"
As one the Gryffindors rose, followed shortly by the Slytherins. Still, before they could begin Goyle opened his mouth and said, "We have a pledge?"
"50 points from Gryf-" Umbridge caught herself before letting out a tittering laugh that grated on Harry's nerves. "I'm sorry… I meant 15 points from Slytherin for talking out of turn. One must remember to raise their hand and wait to be called on, young man." Harry wondered if it had been someone like Draco if they would have gotten points off at all; the Goyle family was, after all, merely shop owners who didn't even have a store in Galahad and thus weren't someone that Umbridge needed to kiss up to. It was only because of them being Slytherins that saved them from a mountain of points being taken off. "And it is something that has fallen out of practice that I wish to bring back. We must honor tradition, after all, lest we forget we are Avalonians and begin acting like savages… or worse, Johtoians." The Slytherins laughed at that while the Gryffindors merely remained quiet even as Umbridge stared right at Harry.
"Rogues. Thieves. Killers. Conmen. Tricksters. Murderers. Charlatans. Usurpers. Robbers. Criminals. Slayers. Terrorists. Assassins. Many of these words have been pinned upon my family and my bloodline," Jonas Kenway had told him. "Other regions look down upon us; the rich and powerful scorn us; the powerful sneer at us. They claim that the House of Kenway has no honor and no sense of tradition. That's ok. They're right, you know. Each and every one of them. We are exactly what they think of us but unlike them, we don't hide our faults and our dark history… we embrace it."
The message had been clear: don't go fighting a battle for the Kenways when they honestly didn't give a shit what the likes of Dolores Umbridge thought of them. There was a brazenness to such thought that appealed to Harry. He'd spent so much time dealing with the whispers and the gossip about him that the idea of just letting everyone do it and ignoring it all actually was rather enticing. As such when Umbridge looked at him after her little jab he stared right back at her without a reaction knowing that it was far more painful for her to see her dig do nothing than it was painful for him to sit there and take it. Especially when the Kenways would take being called 'savages' by the likes of Umbridge as a sign they were doing something right.
"I know that for the last few years you have been educated by the BINNIS Program and while many applaud innovation such as that it takes just as much bravery to say something isn't working as it does to try something new. Just as it is courageous to move forward it is just as courageous to look back and to see that sometimes the old ways are the best ways. A computer... teaching children such as you... it is simply perverse." She folded her hands in front of her and attempted what might have been a smile but could have just been her human disguise being sucked into her maw to reveal the reptile that lay hidden within. "No, what you children need is a guiding hand, one that can direct you along the right path and ensure that your eager young minds are filled with proper knowledge."
Umbridge shook her head, clicking her tongue in annoyance. "They say that history is written by the winners... as it should be! If one wins a war or conquers a land it is because providence has shined down upon them! It was their destiny and right to rule! Because they are just... because their way is the best! Oh yes, there are some bleeding hearts who wring their hands and wonder what might have been if this person or that had been victorious but it doesn't matter because they weren't! The just win in the end and thus it is only right for them to write history."
Harry mentally rolled his eyes, wondering just what mental gymnastics Umbridge did to handle such trite. For while it was easy for her to claim that the Ministry was in power and thus were noble and just he doubted very much she'd claim the same about the Johtoians. No, far more likely she would believe that their rule was merely a bump in the road that was history and soon there would be the proper course correction. He could almost hear her simpering 'little girl voice' proclaim in the same breath that Fudge was a great man because he had power and that proved he was right for Arceus would never allow a wicked man to wield such strength... and then state that Jack and his like needed to be removed from power for the greater good of all.
"People wonder why he scorns the crown," Clair had told him after Lugia had once more brought up 'The Promise' and Jack had stormed off the moment his mentor wasn't in earshot. "They wonder how he could be so repulsed by the promise of power. It is because he's seen what that power does to others. How it corrupts. How it twists and transforms. How it is so easily abused. The Kenways weren't Gym Leader but still even before the war they commanded the respect of Johto just as much as my family did. Jack loves history but he also fears it because he looks upon the past and sees with horror how good men with good intentions because the very creatures they sought to slay."
Umbridge shook her head in disappointment. "When I was a child history was facts; hard, solid, something you could truly build a foundation on. Now too many want to make history liquid, concerning themselves with this group or that and wringing their hands in fear that they might insult someone if they dare to teach history as it should be taught! Brave explorers have their names dragged through the mud as bleeding hearts whine about how they made their discoveries. Unova was discovered by Columbus but no one wants to admit that now in fear that the red... that the natives of Unova will take offense and thus what should be seen as a grand and noble man who discovered those wild and savage lands is instead painted as something far more... human. Made less by lesser men. Great trainers are seen as abusing their Pokémon... and there are those that want to actually focus more on the Pokémon than the people! Pokémon... put on the same level as us..."
Umbridge gathered herself before plastering a false smile on her lips. "My hope is to provide all of you with true history, proper history. The way I learned it. Not the ugly muddiness that it has become but the shining facts of the heroes of Avalon and the dark and vile truths of those that wished to destroy our great nation. To properly educate you all and force out of your brains all the silly nonsense that so many whimpering second-guessers wish to force into your delicate minds. To instill a sense of pride that you are part of the Avalon Empire... and not feel shame about things that may or may not have happened to insignificant people from far off lands who are long dead." Nodding to herself Umbridge walked over to her desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. "To properly start though I must gauge just how much you truly know about Avalon... and how much clutter and garbage has been forced into your minds by radicals who see education as little more than their way of forcing their views upon you. Let us begin with one that is simple... Mr. Malfoy, when was the Ministry of Avalon founded."
Draco with a smirk and a squaring of his shoulders said in a loud, clear voice, "1302, Prof. Umbridge! It was created by the first Lords of Avalon, which included Lord Fornax Black."
"10 points for Slytherin for such knowledge and another 20 for going above and beyond. Now..." Umbridge paused, seeing Hermione's hand raise up and her lips puckered for a moment. "Did you have a question, Miss Granger?"
"Actually, Prof. Umbridge, it was Lord Pictor Black who led the forming of our ministry. Lord Fornax Black, along with Lords Horatio Potter and Neville Longbottom, was the one who donated the funds to see the building of the current Ministry building back in 1624."
"Please Granger, don't embarrass yourself!" Draco said snidely. "Like a Potter would ever be allowed to work with Lord Black and now you think Fatbottom over there…what, time traveled to help? Lord Fornax is my ancestor and I know..." Draco, with all the subtly of a Snorlax perfomring ballet, looked down at his arm, his shirt sleeve rolled up and some dark scribbles visible, "that Lord Fornax was the man who paid for the building of..." Draco paused, his cheeks turning crimson as his mistake was revealed to all including himself.
"It's all right, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione said, only a tiny bit of disgust in her voice at showing Draco respect; Harry had warned them that Umbridge would see anything else as an insult to herself, as she saw the Slytherins (mostly through their parents though there was a bit of loyalty to her old house) as the best and brightest and most noble in Hogwarts. "Both Lord Fornax and Lord Pictor were great men who helped in building our wonderful ministry into the notable institution it currently is."
Neville nodded. "And as for Lord Neville Longbottom that was my anscestor, Neville the First. I am Neville the 12th. Apologizes, Prof. Umbridge... I didn't mean to overstep and interrupt. I am sure you were about to correct Mr. Malfoy."
It was clear from the slight twitch at the corner of her left eye that Umbridge didn't know how to handle Hermione and Neville showing up Draco while also praising the ministry. Harry could practically see the wires connecting in her mind: if she punished the two then she defeated her entire argument that only she could teach the students of Hogwarts true history. Giving into her desire to punish the 'uppity dentists' daughter' would only injure her credibility and with the knocks that had taken thanks to Dumbledore cutting off her original plan at the knees she couldn't afford to push her luck... at the moment. And she certainly couldn't go after Neville; his parents had been ministry workers who had suffered greatly and his gran was one of the most powerful voices in Avalon and the Council of Gym Leaders.
"A point to Gryffindor for their knowledge of history but I would remind you all that I am the teacher and I will make corrections... as I was ready to do." Her smile back in place Umbridge called on several more students, all Slytherins and all the brightest ones (she wasn't going to risk calling on the likes of Crabbe and Goyle and having to deal with telling them they were wrong; Harry was willing to bet that those two wouldn't ever have to answer a question all year) and the most connection (which meant Pansy and Daphne got most of the focus for falling into both categories while Blaise, Theo, and especially Tracy were ignored while Draco was called sparingly due to his earlier embarrassment). Finally though she decided to call on a Gryffindor and it wasn't a surprise that she avoided Ron and Neville, as both had guardians who were gym leaders. "Thomas, what ended the last Avalon Civil War?"
Dean's head twitched, it clear he wanted to look to Harry and silently ask what Umbridge was playing at but just as quickly realizing that such a move would not end well, as it would alert the blob in pink that Harry had taken command of the Gryffindors and not just his Pride. So instead Dean said as casually as he could, "The defeat of Voldemort by Lilly Evans-Potter on October 31st, 1981."
"I'm afraid that is quite wrong; 10 points from Gryffindor." Placing her hands behind her back Umbridge began to pace about the classroom. It was clear that she was trying to project an air of strength and power but instead it just made her look like an overweight Piplup waddling about. "The legend of Lily Evans is a popular one in Avalon but just because something is popular doesn't mean that it is true. Ignoring the fact that it is clear that it was James Potter who clearly dealt the mortal blow to Voldemort and it was his wife, who cowered in her child's room while that brave gym leader fought against the head of Team Nocturne, merely is given credit because it is more "politically correct"-" Harry could hear the airquotes in Umbridge's speech, "-the fact of the matter is that Team Nocturne was already on its last legs thanks to the Ministry. It was not some fantastic battle that most likely never happened between the figurehead of Team Nocturne and some non-descript woman who won the day; oh no, it was our ministry who rounded up the Nocturne Agents, who convicted them and ended their threat. They should receive the praise... not a woman who by all accounts should have been nothing more than a footnote in history."
Umbridge had stopped before Harry's table as she delivered her speech disparaging the death of his mother but he refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing him get angry. That's what she wanted... to make him mad and careless. Oh, he was enraged and when he got a chance he planned to merge with Hedwig, fly to one of the Forbidden Islands, and battle some rare Pokemon until tales of his stress relief were told for ages among the halls of Hogwarts. Umbridge had achieved her first goal but the second he refused to award her. After all, it wasn't the legend Harry cared about but the woman she was and he knew that if she were still with him his mum would tell him to refuse taking Umbrdige's bait.
"Prof. Umbridge," Draco said, a sneer clear in his voice as he turned and looked right at Harry, "a lot of people claim that Lily Evans was the most beautiful and intelligent trainer of her generation. Isn't it possible that those are just as much embellishments and she was as ugly as a Garbodor and as dumb as a Slowpoke?"
Harry saw Ron make to stand up to defend Harry's mum only for Seamus to clamp down on his calf and squeeze till Ron settled down.
Neville though wouldn't be silenced and cleared his throat. "I suppose the one thing that's nice, Mr. Malfoy, is that we actually have a living witness who can confirm or deny such claims. You can even ask him when you return to your common room..."
Draco's brow furrowed in confusion. "What you are talking about, Longbottom? Who knew Evans?"
"Your Head of House... Prof. Snape." Neville smiled innocently but Harry could tell his friend was enjoying his revenge on Draco for all his snide little remarks and snotty insults. "I'm sure he could answer all your questions… if you're willing to ask."
"Oh, I will, Longbottom! I'll ask him how ugly and retarded she really was!" Draco said, clearly thinking Neville was insinuating that Draco was a coward. Harry almost felt sorry for Draco as he could only imagine what Snape would do to Draco when the little twit insulted his Head of House's beloved adopted sister right in front of him.
"Mr. Longbottom, 10 points from Gryffindor for interrupting!" Umbridge said before turning to Draco and, with clear reluctant, added, "I was going to award you points for your observation but due to your... choice of words... I will not be able to do so." Draco gaped at that but for once decided not to push his luck and instead shut his mouth. "Now then, Mr. Potter... let move on to international history. More recent history, in fact. Tell me, what was the cause of the Johto/Kanto War?"
"People always make the same mistake, Harry," Jack had told him just before they'd parted ways. "It isn't enough to beat you... they want you to know that they've beaten you. To rub the salt in your wounds and to stand over your broken form and laugh at your gall. They can't help themselves. In most minds achieving the victory isn't enough... you want your enemy to admit that they were right and you were wrong. And more than that they want such an omission to hurt you worse than a thousand stabs. They want you to buck and to fight and to battle and only in the end with disgust and loathing in your voice to hear you admit defeat.
"But see what their taunts and their mocking truly are: an opportunity. A chance to change the game, to flip it on its head. Be the wounded Girafarig, playing the predator until the moment when you can lash out and strike. Let them mock you. Let them mock me. Your parents, your friends, your ideals and dreams. Let them tell their jokes. Merely play along, waiting... turning all the anger inward so that it becomes the kindling for an inferno that will light up the world. And then, when you do... don't make the same mistake they did. Not make them admit they were wrong. Just slit their damn throats. It might not be as pleasing... but you'll sleep better."
"Jack Kenway caused the war, Prof. Umbridge."
It was clear she hadn't totally expected that but still Umbridge decided to try and make a crack that would reveal what Harry was truly thinking. "I did not mean who declared the war, Mr. Potter. I meant what started it."
"I was referring to that. Jack Kenway refused to handle the Pokémon League Massacre properly and within the laws of Kanto and Johto. That caused the war."
"...is that so?" she asked, probing his verbal defenses.
Harry shrugged. "The war would have never happened had Jack listened to Lance Blackthorn and returned to the Pokémon League with him. They would have investigate the issue and brought the guilty parties to justice, as well as determine just what crimes, if any, were committed, and then he would have been able to take his place among the Kanto Elite 4 and rendered the changes he wished legally and without bloodshed. The war would have never started had he just obeyed the laws of the Kanto Ministry."
He could see that Umbridge didn't buy a word he was saying. Oh, she believed what he said... but she didn't believe that he believed. But once more she found herself unable to push and instead was forced to brush aside the point and move on. "Very true, Mr. Potter. Jack Kenway and his Sons caused untold damage that could have been avoided had he simply listened to the Ministry. Much like the Order of Moltres." Harry's brow furrowed and Umbridge smiled. "You disagree."
"No, professor," Harry said. "I've just never heard of the Order of Moltres."
"Oh, come now, you must have... your parents were founding members... or at least that is what those that idolize them claim."
Harry though just his head, not needing to pretend he was confused. "Professor, until I was 11 I was led to believe my parents were drunks who died in a car accident."
Umbridge pursed her lips. "Yes... Little Surrey. I'd forgotten you grew up among those backwater inbred guttersnips. Leave it to them to claim that a Gym Leader was a drunk." Not saying another word Umbridge turned to Daphne Greengrass and asked her another question about the Great War. But Harry didn't hear a word of that, nor any other as class went by. He knew he should be paying attention but he couldn't. His mind was focused on the Order of Moltres...
...and why Sirus and Remus had never told him about it.
~MC~MC~MC~
Author's Notes: Due to the delay in this chapter coming out I am going to leave you a sneak peek at what is coming next time.
"Wolves At the Gate Part 1: While Harry is at Hogwarts his adult allies haven't be lax. And for one Nocturne Admin he is about to learn what it is like to be hunted by a true predator."