Harry hated empty words. It was one of the only things he and Vernon Dursley had had in common. His uncle had always ranted and raved whenever someone gave empty platitudes about this or that. "Like a donut without sugar!" he declared more than once when he'd merely gotten words of encouragement rather than help when it came to a project. They didn't mean anything, didn't give you anything, all they did was waste time. Vernon was a man who wanted concrete answers, not hollow apologizes and promises. Once, when Harry had been five, a repair man had come to fix the central air only for the whole system to peter out after a day. When Vernon had finally reached him on the phone he'd only to gotten a weak apology for the issue and a promise he'd been over "at some point" to fix it. His uncle had screamed so loud into the phone Harry had half thought that the repair man would have been able to hear the bellows across all of Little Surrey. He'd made it clear he wasn't interested in "maybes" and "oops" and he wanted results. When he'd gotten off the phone he'd been so mad he even snapped at Dudley and Aunt Petunia while Harry had hid in his cupboard.

As he'd sat in the Headmaster's office, listening to him give out empty warm wishes about Ginger and asking everyone to keep her in their thoughts and prayers Harry felt like mimicking his uncle right then and there.

When the House Heads had finally shown up to where Harry was with the unconscious Ginger Poppy had already been called and it'd been quickly decided that Ginger had to be airlifted to an actual hospital. Harry had stayed with her and her Pidove the entire time and had wanted to go with them but had been denied by McGonagall, who wanted to know everything that had happened. He'd only half begun the story when Prof. Sprout had also asked him what he remembered about the 'accident' and Harry had begun again, but not before loudly proclaiming it was a suicide attempt. He'd only gotten to hearing her crying when Flitwick had spoken up wanting answers and by that point it had been decided by all it was better just to have the entire conversation in Dumbledore's office. Of course the Headmaster had been delayed arriving as he had received a call from the hospital concerning Ginger and that meant Harry had to deal with being around people who were staring at him anxious to hear his tale.

Including Umbridge.

The odious blob of pink was sitting there with a look of concern that would have only been more fake if it had been found on a Krookodile. It made him all the more angry because if she had at least been gloating then he would have been justified in showing her just how hard he could backhand someone... with his prosthetic. But no, the Ministry toady was trying to look worried and Harry knew that all the other professors were buying it. Or at the very least willing to let her get away with it. Some though he was willing to give a pass; Prof. Slate was clearly in his own world, the worry on his features making it clear that even though he nodded at times when someone asked him something he truly wasn't listening to them. And Prof. Vector looked so lost by everything that a bomb could have gone off and she wouldn't have noticed it. But the House Heads? They had to know what a fraud Umbridge was and yet they ate up her sad little looks with a spoon and then licked it clean.

When Dumbledore had returned he had informed them that Ginger would pull through but it had been decided, in the best interest of the young girl, that she be removed from Hogwarts. Her parents were discussing things and though Dumbledore said nothing was set in stone it looked like the removal would be permanent and that Ginger and her family would leave the region so that Ginger could get an education somewhere where the stigma of her 'accident', as Dumbledore called it, didn't followed her. He'd then asked Harry for his side of the story and he'd been all too happy to give it.

"Hemhem," Umbridge said said, cutting him off as he had gotten into what Pidove had told him. "I think that is quite enough, child. After all, what good is the rest of your story when you have no way to prove it?"

"Other than the fact that it gives the reason why Ginger tried to killed herself?"

"Again, what you say can't be proven." Umbridge tittered. "After all, none of us can talk to Pokémon like you. Is unnatural. So you could be making it up."

Harry glowered at that. "I would be willing to undergo a psychic reading."

"Preposterous."

Harry smirked at that. "It wasn't when the Minister had one done to Hermione Granger back during our Second Year. But I suppose that's the difference, isn't it? Ginger's parents aren't giving money to Fudge's campaign like the Malfoys can so who cares about the truth now."

"That is Minister, Fudge, boy," Umbridge stated. "You will show him the respect he has earned."

"I think that's exactly what I've been doing."

Umbridge's mask slipped for just a moment, the foul hateful creature that she was revealed to the world, before she forced herself to hold her composure and stare Harry down. "You are being foolish, young man. Those two situations were entirely different. Clinging to your little lies only makes you look small and petty. I do not know what I did to make you seek to harm me but I will not stand for such attacks."

"Then have my mind read and let's settle this. And have Pidove's mind read too. I'm ready to have it done right here, so long as a reputable psychic we both can agree on is brought in. Or does it need to be done in front of the whole school while Lucius Malfoy holds Fudge's di-"

"I assure you there is no need for that," Dumbledore said, cutting Harry off politely yet firmly with the raising of one hand. "There is no need for any of this disagreement. We all care about Ginger and her health and that is all that matters. Now, Prof. Sprout, I-"

But Harry wasn't done. "No, that isn't the only thing that matters. I'd think you'd want to make sure that more of your students weren't driven to suicide because a professor told them their Pokémon would be taken away from them because she is on some petty vendetta!"

Umbridge huffed at that. "If the young lady believed that then it isn't our fault. An unstable mind will come up with all sorts of crazy thoughts based on the most innocent of comments. Who knows what was said to her to make her believe such things."

"True," McGonagall said, clearly hoping that if she agreed with Umbridge she could get things back on track.

But this time it was Umbridge who wasn't done, for with the sweeties of voices loaded with the most vile of poisons she added, "It is very likely the girl wasn't right in the head to begin with. It is common with people of her... breeding... after all. Perhaps she knew that because of her imbalances her Pokémon would be safer out of her hands. And of course she is proven correct, as the Ministry may very well need to intervene and place her Pokémon in a more stable home."

Only Flitwick reaching across the gap and grabbing Harry by the shoulder and forcing him to remain seated kept him from killing Umbride right there. He could see it… see it so clearly. Rushing her, pressing his palm against her flabby throat, and firing off a Pokemon and letting a surprised Vegeta emerge to find him dripping in blood as the bitch fell twitching to the ground. Bitch. Umbridge. Umbitch. Harry rather liked that. Not as much as seeing that title carved onto the wood plank Harry would use as the marker for her pauper's grave-

But forced into not enacting on his first desires he instead leveled her with a cold stare, tilting his head slightly as he took her in. The pathetic, small, vile little thing she was. Maybe not in size (because despite what he was sure she would claim the last time she'd been even near a Size 3 was went she'd declared that to be how big she wanted her value meal to be) but in spirit. And that only angered him all the more, that such an insignificant woman could do so much damage and no one had stood up against her and made it clear that her vanity games had come to an end.

"I would suggest, Madame Umbridge, that you be very selective with the words you choose to use, especially in front of certain people."

"Is that a threat, Potter?"

"Not in the slightest," Harry said before McGonagall, who'd opened her mouth to scold him, could get a word in.

"Good," the ministry lackey stated. "Because if you did threaten one of your professors then we might need to look into YOUR mental state… for your own safety, of course."

"Of course. I merely didn't want someone to get the wrong idea. Lump you in with the wrong people by accident by spouting Nocturne idealogy. After all… the filth of Avalon seems to be dropping like flies recently and I would hope no one confuses you for one of their number."

Umbridge went a shade of purple that didn't match her outfit at all but before she could respond Dumbledore spoke up. "I think, now that we have all the information from Mr. Potter, that it might be best to get some of you back in the halls and classrooms. I would hope our students wouldn't take advantage of such a situation but of course children can be shortshighted in what they do. I think we'll be fine with the Heads of the Four Houses remaining while I finalize a few small things with Mr. Potter." He smiled his gradfatherly smile that seemed to always put people at ease. "If anyone asks of what happened please keep your answers short; out of respect for the dear girl I don't want more information than what is needed leaked out."

Umbridge sat for a moment more, clearly hoping that she would be given special privilege to remain, but when Dumbldeore merely continued to stare pleasantly at her she finally rose, shooting Harry a dirty look when she knew no one else was looking before sticking her nose in the air and trotted off as fast as her stumps could care her.

Harry was willing to wager that Umbridge was already going to be putting in a call to the ministry in hopes of doing more damage to Ginger while at the same time minimize any potential trouble she might be in. Most likely, Harry reasoned, she would spin tales of him being irrational and thus whatever information he did get out would be colored by her story. It was irksome but he wasn't willing to storm out of the Headmaster's office without his approval to stop her; especially when that would only prove her point.

Once they were alone Harry said, "What exactly is the game here? Why are you allowing her to get away with this?"

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall stated, "I think you are a tad confused."

"I'm more than a tad. That woman almost caused a first year to DIE. Why isn't she being shown the door? Why haven't the Aurors been called?"

His Head of House narrowed her eyes at him. "We are not here to discuss Prof. Umbridge, Mr. Potter. We are here to discuss you and your attitude. You seem to be functioning under the delusion that you have a role in this. You do not."

"I don't have a role?" Harry snapped. "I gained a role the moment I dove into that lake and pulled Ginger out of it while all of you were sitting here sipping tea with the woman that caused this entire mess!" He looked at each of the professors in turn, Sprout shifting in her seat, Snape looked at him with utter disapproval (though he hide it well), Flitwick unable to settle on chastised or annoyed, McGonagall in a black fury, and Dumbledore completely unreadable. "You would have a child dead if it weren't for me so don't sit there and try and claim I don't have a stake in this! I can't keep fishing corpses out of Black Lake!"

It was Sprout who answered. "What you did was commendable, Mr. Potter. You saved a fellow student and none of us have forgotten that. However, you can not forget that you are a student as well. You are right that we should have been there to stop it… I will personally be looking into if any of my students knew about the young girl's emotional state and failed to report it. But while you have done your part it is time for you to allow us to do ours." She leaned forward and said sweetly, "You have to trust us to handle this."

Harry stared at her for a moment before he did the only thing he could: he broke out into laughter. It was a joyless laughter, one that hurt even his own ears, but laughter none the less. He fought to gain control of himself as he looked at the naïve fools and his chuckles tapered off into breathy huffs.

"Trust you? I'm sorry but I've learned that trust is earned, not merely handed out for free. And Hogwarts has done little to earn my trust."

"You can not allow one event-" Flitwick began only for Harry to cut him off.

"One event? Have… have you been teaching at a different school these last five years?" He leaned back in his seat and scoffed. "One event! Would you like to go chronologically or should we do a Top Ten List?" Harry began to tick off the points. "My first year a Golurk was unleashed in the school and nearly killed me and my friends. A magical mirror known to drive men mad was placed in the school and I was able to EASILY find it. A dangerous device was kept in a school full of children... and rather than not speak a word of it instead you lot placed it on the third floor and then told everyone "Don't go into the locked room on the bloody third floor'! You have taught teenagers HOW long?" Harry looked about and shook his head. "And ignoring all that... Voldemort was hired to teach me how Pokémon Battles worked. The man could have walked up and snapped my neck-CEREK!-any time he wanted. Thank Arceus he wants me alive because he wants to wear me like a god damn condom."

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall exclaimed, scandalized.

But Harry wasn't done. "Second year I had to rescue my first two firsties from a gang of bullies because the Head of the House of Intelligence didn't realize he had a gang in his midst. Then a legendary Pokémon was unleashed and began putting people into comas and the school stayed open. The only time the authorizes were involved was when Lucius "What Stupid Thing Did Draco Do Now?" Malfoy bought off the Minister to attempt to frame Hermione for the entire thing. Then Luna was in danger, again, and Neville and I went to help her only to discover that the Battle Instructor that year was slightly better than Voldemort in that he merely mentally raped students to do his bidding. Oh, and he did the same to good honest people and took credit for their achievements. Funny how I never saw a report about that in a paper or holocast, almost as if it were quietly covered up. I still nearly died, along with Luna and Neville, fighting Voldemort again... this time he was posing as a teenage girl so that's slightly better than bloody Quirell. Still, nearly died and then you lot stood by while Lucius Malfoy attempted to steal Zygarde from me.

"Third year saw Sirius' insane brother try to kill me several times. I also think that's when I nearly died in a Gauntlet Match but it could have been earlier; the number of times I've nearly died have caused things to kind of run together into a muddled mess of screwed up. Now, first he tries to kill me during my first visit to La Fey's Landing and then he pretty much murdered the entire school and I got to watch everyone die." He held up a hand when Sprout opened her mouth. "Time travel. Undid that shit. I will give you one point in that Prof. Snape actually did work to help me out so thank you Prof. Snape for being a decent human being." Snape, for his part, merely raised a bemused eyebrow at that, too startled by Harry's rant to say anything.

"Now we move on to Fourth Year. Oh boy, where to begin. Maybe the fact that the safest I was during that year was with the revolutionaries half of Avalon want to see arrested for war crimes while they bare-chested wrestled on one of the Forbidden Islands? And it only sounds a touch gayer than what it really was. Voldemort attacked the Gauntlet World Championship and Fenir Friggin' Greyback singled me out but no attempt was made to beef up security here until Missingno itself nearly made my mind dribble out of my ears. Remember, when I was forced to participate in a contest I didn't enter? Then we had the incident where Gabrielle died... the fourth little girl I had to save and the first one from a lake. Then I get teleported away to a commentary where Greyback-" Harry ripped his sleeve down and tore at the synthetic flesh on his hand, wincing as the pain receptors flared for a moment as he revealed the metal underneath. All five professors blanched at the reminder of what Harry had gone through. "-well, you know. Then I get saved only for half of Avalon to look at the people that wanted to kill me moments ago and say, "Hey, wanna be besties?".

"So let's get to this year. The Ministry is looking for any reason to lock me up or declare me insane. They have their mouthpiece Rita Skeeter publishing hit pieces on me. And you not only welcome that stooge Umbitch into the school but you let her get away with whatever she wants! Have... have you heard of the things she's said? How she's mocked my parents? My mother? Or my friends? My mentors? How she singles out me and anyone who might side with me and needles us day in and day out, in hopes of getting a reaction from us? I wonder what advice you'd give? Probably," He adopted a horrible imitation of McGongall's accent, ""Keep yar head down there, Mr. Potter! Just let her do whatever she wants and maybe if you are good she'll only emotionally scar ya! And don't go down that hallway, Filch hasn't cut down the latest body handing from the noose!"" He could see that his head of house was fuming... but she also couldn't verbally deny what he'd said. "And you wonder why I don't trust you lot one fig?"

Harry went silent, rolling up his sleeve to cover the wound he'd made. He knew that Remus and Sirius were going to be pissed about what he'd done and that he'd need to arrange a visit to Poppy to get the synthetic skin fixed; they had supplied her with some in case he did get hurt but he knew his guardians hadn't expected him to rip his own false flesh off.

"A week's detention and 100 points from Gryffindor for your attitude, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said sternly.

Harry just laughed. "Go ahead. Gryffindor is already a joke with you as the Head of it."

"Potter..." Snape warned, finally deciding to speak up. Dumbledore looked to be utterly lost at what to do, floored by the eruption of bile that Harry had fired at them. Clearly the old man hadn't realized how much Harry had been bottling up. Sprout and Flitwick seemed just as befuddled on how to act, all at once embarrassed, angered, shame-filled, and annoyed.

"Two weeks, another 100 points, and you've just lost La Fey's Landing privileges," McGonagall declared.

Harry though remained defiant. "Save a girl's live and I get not a single point. Speak ill of Umbridge and get punished. I'd say that meant I was safe from being murdered but at this point I wouldn't be surprised if Voldemort tried to shank me in the shower! You keep docking all the points you want... you aren't a Gryffindor, not anymore."

"A month of detention-"

"You are a coward, Minerva McGonagall. Along with the rest of you. If you truly cared about your students you'd be fighting to protect them, not meekly ducking your heads so you didn't need to deal with a ministry toadie."

"You are off the Gauntlet Team, Mr. Potter! Would you like to go for more privileges lost?"

Dumbledore now chose to speak. "Minerva, perhaps we might-"

"Why is it the only person you have the guts to stand up to is a student?" Harry asked.

"Your Battle Club is officially disbanded and if your friends attempt to reform it they can join you with a full lose of privileges. You will be escorted to and from class and you will be placed in isolation while in the tower. That includes meals."

The threat against his friends was the final straw. Harry's eyes flashed and a wave of Speaker's energy ripped through him, making all the professors tremble despite their best efforts. it took all of harry's willpower to tap down the explosion and even then part of him just wanted to let his mask shatter and show them the monster he truly was. But instead he pulled it all back in, drove the anger deep into the furnace that was his heart, slammed down door upon it, and allowed a coldness to fill his veins rather than the heat. There was no mistaking his calmness for being cowed by the Pokémon Care Professor or regret for his words. No... everyone that was in that room could see that his rage had merely twisted from a raging inferno that had no direction or guidance to an icy lance.

"You told me during my first year that you knew my parents. That you cared for them very much. What do you think they're saying about you right now?"

McGonagall went white as a sheet at that before turning beat read but before she could open her mouth Dumbledore cleared his throat, demanding the attention of all. "Mr. Potter, go at once to your dorm room and do not stop until you are there." He tone was colder and firmer than Harry had ever heard it before. "I will be contacting Remus and Sirius about your behavior, which has been appalling and far below your maturity, and discuss with them further punishments."

"Umbitch drives a child to kill herself and I'm punished." Harry stood up and scoffed. "Typical. Protecting monsters and abusers is what you're good at, isn't it? If I slit someone's throat would you then decide that I should be treated with kindness?"

"I am trying to help you, Harry."

"Like you helped me by leaving me with the Dursleys?" Harry asked, not bothering to look to see if his blow hit the mark, walking over to the window and throwing it open, cold air hitting them. Before any of the professors could stop him Harry leapt out, Sprout letting out a cry of panic only for Harry and Hedwig's Noctowl form to rocket upward and wing away from the school, a final act of defiance.

Dumbledore's office was quiet for several long moments, only the sound of Sprout's gasping breaths filling the air, before Flitwick said with morose acceptance. "We just lost Mr. Potter forever. The Minister and Madame Umbridge will have a field day." In a softer voice he said, "Damn all of us. Damn us all."

McGonagall whipped around and glared at the dwarf. "We lost HIM? He isn't the victim him... the way he spoke, the way he acted... ooohhh, I haven't been spoken to like that since I was a wee lass and that impudent boy is certainly not my da! When I see him again-"

"Now now," Dumbledore said, trying to calm everyone down. "Tempers are hot-"

"Minerva, would you stop and think for a moment?" Snape cut in. "You are about to fall into the exact same trap all over again." He waited to ensure that she would actually listen to what he had to say. It was a near thing, her deciding to let him speak without interrupting, but she remained silent and Snape continued on. "You have now nearly wiped out completely all of Gryffindor's points for the year, crippled their Gauntlet Team, closed down a popular club despite the fact that the other five heads of it did nothing wrong, then threatened said students, and come as close as you legally can to putting Mr. Potter in solitary confinement. Even for you, Minerva, that was extreme. Even for me, the Golbat of the Dungeons, that was extreme."

It was an odd thing to see McGonagall's face twitch, her mouth opening and closing like a Magikarp's, as she processed just how much punishment she had dealt out to Harry in her rage. The wheels were turning in her head, the implications of her orders falling upon her like body blows, one after another after another.

Snape though was more than willing to give voice to them. "Had you merely punished Mr. Potter you might have been able to turn this around. But to harm your own house so greatly? And then threaten his closest friends? In the name of Umbridge… and don't try and claim you had other reasons, your students won't care. You've fallen into a deep pit and it will be quite hard to dig yourself out."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Oh, not that hard. Things are said in the heat of the moment. We can easily ignore the more extreme demands, give back privileges when Harry properly behaves and sees reason-"

"No, she can't," Flitwick said, Snape nodding slightly in approval. The man, in his youth, had been a professional Trainer who had won several League Championships and Elite 4 challenges and it had only been his passion for Pokeball Making that had seen him not take the Battle Instructor position. Of course he would be the first after Snape to see the traps that now lay on the board. "If she backs down now she loses all authority. She might as well retire now, because every student will walk over her. And if you act instead, Albus, then you undercut her authority."

"But the punishments can't stand!" Sprout proclaimed. "Mr. Potter is a leader amongst the Gryffindors! They will rally to him in this!" It went unsaid that McGonagall's standing with her house was already in tatters thanks to the events of the 2nd and 4th year. First her allowing Hermione to be targeted by the Minister, and then her lack of support for Harry when he had decided to actually compete. "If they are enacted then it will take at least a generation of students to come and go before you'll be able to rebuild your reputation!"

"And no matter what you do you've lost Harry," Snape stated. "He will never forgive you for trying to use his friends against him. Even should you admit fault he won't offer forgiveness."

"And what would you have had me done?" McGonagall snapped, frustration and heartache causing her to lash out at him.

Snape looked at her with utter dryness and control. "I would have let Mr. Potter continue his rant before informing him, in measured words, that he should go at once to his dorm and I would speak with him later. I'd then allow him to calm down and the full weight of how he'd acted crash down upon him. He isn't evil, he is passionate, and those with passion feel the extremes of all emotions. Rage... and guilt. Then, and only then, I would have explained to him how greatly he failed, how his actions only hurt his cause, and then given punishments. You swung your sword at the inferno though and it melted and now when Mr. Potter cools down his heart will be hardened with steel. He will have no need to feel regret and any attempt to make him do so will only cause the blaze to return."

McGonagall snorted at that in a very undignified manner. "It's easy for you to say that after the fact."

"I say it because I've seen you do it before when I was a student."

"James was brash, Severus, but he never talked to me like that-"

"But Lily did."

All the fight left McGonagall in that moment. Those three words ripped them away as the memories and the past washed over her. She suddenly found herself nearly 30 years younger, watching as a young red head with burning green eyes like emeralds lit by candles stared up at her in defiance, arguing her point and refusing to back down, mocking her and calling her names that she'd only learned from Tobias and the other ship captains. Refusing to admit she was wrong, that she'd made a mistake, promising that no matter what punishment she got she'd never admit she was wrong.

"Oh god," Sprout said, clearly remembering similar situations as McGonagall.

In a softer voice, the most compassion he could muster, Snape said, "We've all made the same mistake. We look at Harry with his unruly hair and glasses and scrunched up face and see James. But while he might look like him made small it is Lily's spirit that burns in him. Her desire to always fight for what she saw as right, to protect those she cared for, to sacrifice everything for justice. Would Lily back down now? Or would she do something far more drastic." With that he rose and turned to Dumbledore. "Headamster, I am going to contact Remus and Sirius. I feel, with how Mr. Potter left us, the little fool won't be in his room tonight. They will need to know that he has done a runner."

"You think he'll flee Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked worriedly. "No, I can't accept that."

"And you are right to. He won't go far... not when he believes that Umbridge is a threat. But he can turn into a Pokémon well suited for the cold winds of Avalon... he won't need a bed for tonight at least."

~MC~MC~MC~

On the astronomy tower Harry sat and brooded. He'd sent Hedwig to go find Leon and tell him to work together to gather things from his room that he might need. He didn't know how long he was going to place himself in exile but he wanted to be prepared. With Dobby and Ludwig he'd be perfectly fine, able to gather whatever he needed, but already he was plotting out how to handle the situation he found himself in.

'Maybe stay on one of the Forbidden Islands. Practice my Speaking and Magnus powers...' His planning was interrupted by his dex ringing and he groaned, realizing that someone must have contacted Remus and Sirius and he was in for a chewing out. He opened the dex to send it to voicemail only to blink when he saw it was from Jasmine. "Hey," he said, answering the call and sending out the holocast. "Glad you called I need to-"

Harry froze.

The holocast of Jasmine stared back at him.

She was sobbing.

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: So… originally, as I told many reviewers, the plan was to cut from Harry and Hogwarts and go to a two part Wolves At The Gate chapter. But so many of you wanted me to show what Harry would do next that I had to rush out this chapter and push the Wolves chapters to the next two I post. Luckily the plan for the end of this chapter, with Jasmine contacting Harry in tears, worked perfectly as a cliffhanger before we flash back to the night before and see just what happened.

Let's just say that if Harry was angry at the Ministry before…

A few of you will have issues with Harry lashing out at the professors. Here is my answer: this is Harry's greatest flaw. His rash temper. It makes him lash out when he should pause and listen. That is why Harry is more Gryffindor than Slytherin… he can be calm and collected but in the end his anger and passion will always win out.