Hello! Thanks for all the new reviews and followers – to answer a few questions, yes I have read the books, it's just simpler to get quotes from movie, and yes the new characters will be re-appearing soon! Sorry to those who don't like new characters! Chapter eighteen here, this one shows Draco and Severus' conversation, and then the second day at classes and Harry's detention with Umbridge!
Enjoy :)
Draco stood still for a moment, at the door of his godfather's classroom. He could remember coming here for his very first potions lesson, four years ago. He was in awe of how 'Professor Snape' had controlled the classroom, and showed up that ignorant Potter boy, who had refused to be his friend. He remembered thinking that Harry had deserved it.
"Draco," Severus eventually began, after the silence started to become awkward, "I had a feeling you would come and see me, privately. I am surprised it took so long."
"I needed the weekend to think." Draco told him.
"You had the summer." Severus replied, moving his papers before leaning back in his seat.
"I didn't know everything then." Draco sneered, "I didn't know about Potter."
"Draco, I'm not stupid." Severus stated, "I know your father's position in… well, certain circles, shall we say. I knew that you would be told the details. I assumed any contact after my withdrawal from Voldemort's forces would be ignored."
Draco shuffled slightly, looking at the floor, "Why?" He asked finally.
"Why did I take Harry in?" Severus asked for confirmation of his godson's question.
"No," Draco said, "Why did you leave him?"
Severus furrowed his brow, "You are asking me why I withdrew from the Death Eaters? I thought that would be obvious. I couldn't both be a spy and take Harry in."
"So you never believed in him, or his ways." Draco said, walking further into the room, near to where Harry had been sat minutes before, "You never truly answered to him. You were working for Dumbledore this whole time?"
Severus' eyes softened slightly, "No, Draco, not exactly. I was true to him once, but that was a long time ago. After a while, his brutality became very real, very personal. At the end of the first war, I became a spy for Dumbledore."
Draco collapsed into one of the seats, "And Potter…" He practically spat the name.
"That was never the plan. This summer was never planned." Severus told him, coming around from his desk to seat nearer to Draco, on one of the work stools, "Harry needed to stay at Hogwarts, and as Dumbledore said at the welcome feast, he needed a guardian."
"But why you?" Draco said exasperatedly, "You hate him!"
"I was wrong." Severus said softly.
Draco looked up and locked eyes with his guardian, and saw that he was telling the truth. He sighed, "My father is furious. He crashed about the manor for days after your betrayal to the Dark Lord."
"Was Lucius the one who told Voldemort? About Harry and I."
"No," Draco said quietly, "He called an emergency meeting with the entire inner circle. Father was told then, that you had betrayed the Death Eaters. That you had taken Harry Potter into your home, and your protection. That you had never been a loyal spy for him, but for Dumbledore. That you had double-crossed us all. Someone in the Ministry had overseen the paperwork, and alerted him."
"And then Lucius told you."
"Mother did. She thought I needed to be let down gently."
"Ah," Severus nodded, knowing of Narcissa's kind heart, "I suppose you did."
There was another long pause. Draco stared at his hands, shuffling on his seat. Severus looked over his godson, examining him. His eyes had sunk a little deeper in their sockets; his cheeks were slightly shallower than before the summer. He had grown taller, again, and his blonde hair was shorter at the sides. He twitched and fidgeted more, but that may be because of the conversation.
"I think you may be the only one to do it." Draco said suddenly.
"The only one to do what?" Severus asked.
Draco rubbed his hands on his trousers, "To get away from him alive."
Severus smiled sadly, "Yes, I suppose I might be. It's not impossible, you know."
"What's that meant to mean?" Draco said angrily.
"It just means," Severus looked at him imploringly, "That you seem angrier about me taking Harry into my home, than you are about me abandoning Lord Voldemort."
Draco opened his mouth to argue, and then slowly closed it, "He's Gryffindor's golden boy. He's… He's just Potter, for Merlin's sake." He spat, "He's arrogant and pompous."
"Look who's talking." Severus quipped, and Draco snorted.
"I am a Malfoy." He said in explanation.
"You are a person, who can make their own decisions, and their own way in life." Severus told him, "You can make your life what you choose it to be."
"My life is already decided." Draco stated firmly.
"No, it isn't." Severus stood and grabbed Draco's shoulders, shaking him slightly, "I can help you Draco. You've seen how I escaped the Death Eaters; you've seen it's possible. This is your father's life, he chose the darker path, but you don't have to. You could live the life you really want. The one I know you really want."
Draco pushed him off and stood up quickly, "I should go. Father would be angry if he knew I was speaking to you."
As he went to leave, Severus called after him, "You are always welcome to speak to me, Draco. Please come and speak to me."
Draco paused at the exit, hand on the door. He looked back at his godfather, let his eyes drop to the floor, and then left.
Severus sighed, and walked back around the tables. He crumpled onto the chair by his desk, head in hands. After marking a few more papers, he realised it wasn't distracting him, so he left for his chambers. Once there he summoned Binky to get him a whiskey. He drank it in one go.
Sitting on the sofa, his head was amassed with thoughts. He worried for Draco, in a family so fascinated and embroiled in the Dark Arts. The young teenager was much like him at the same age, trying to make the decision of which path to take. Draco was just as confused, seeing which side he really wanted to be on but not knowing how to get there.
He drank another whiskey, before making his way to bed. He drank a hangover potion on the way. Two whiskeys wouldn't usually have any effect on him, but he had a full day of classes tomorrow and didn't want to take that risk.
One thing he knew for sure, he needed to look out for two young teenage boys now.
HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP
The second day of class' was just as eventful as the first, for most. The timetable was fuller on a Tuesday than it was on a Monday, so the fifth year's six hours of schooling instead of four, starting with double transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.
"This year will be harder than anything you have faced so far in your academic lives." She started the lesson by saying, and Ron slid down in his seat next to Harry, "The OWL's are designed to test your skills to the maximum of your magical knowledge. They are not something to be flippant about. Am I understood?"
"Yes Professor McGonagall." The class chorused back. No student in Hogwarts history (except perhaps James Potter and Sirius Black) would dare disagree with Minerva McGonagall, the woman who had dealt with adventurous and often foolish Gryffindor's for the last Merlin's knows how many years.
"Excellent. The first two semesters of this year will be focused on learning new fifth year spells. In the final semester leading up to your examinations, we will be revising spells from the past four years as well as your new curriculum to ensure maximum coverage and preparation. You do, of course, have your new study partners do help you with revision throughout the year." Professor McGonagall's eyes flicked over at Harry and Ron when she said this, before she carried on, "We will be beginning this year by learning about vanishing curses. Please retrieve your fifth year textbooks, and open them to the first chapter."
The next two hours were spent learning the theory of vanishing spells, since they were complicated aspects of spell work. At the end of the lesson, as everyone was packing up, Professor McGonagall asked Harry to stay behind.
"It's only the second day but I think I'm making a habit of this." Harry told his teacher sarcastically.
"Ah yes," Professor McGonagall nodded, "I heard you received detention from Professor Umbridge."
"I'm serving it tonight." Harry informed her.
"It was a wise choice to tell Professor Snape before Professor Umbridge got the chance to. I do believe she began to seek him out before dinner, to see if she could beat you to it." She looked down at Harry slightly disapprovingly, "It is only the second day of classes, Mr Potter; do not make a habit out of receiving detention. I am still head of your house, this is my warning."
"Understood, Professor McGonagall." Harry bowed his head.
"However, Mr Potter, that is not why I asked you to stay behind. I was wondering if you could tell me how your study partner is."
"Jane?" Harry asked, "What about her?"
"Is the new system suiting your needs as a student? Have you had any problems?"
Harry replied, "I've had no problems. Jane and I get along fine, and I think we can help each other with our worst and best subjects." He paused, "Professor… Is this because Jane is a Slytherin?"
"Do not accuse me of house prejudice." Professor McGonagall said sharply, "I am simply concerned about you, as a Gryffindor. You have not been, in the past, on friendly terms with many members of the Slytherin house. Truthfully I was not sure if you should be paired with one, as it may cause too many problems."
"It hasn't." Harry said honestly, "We get along fine."
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips slightly, but nodded, "Very well then, be on your way. Do you have a class next?"
"Yes, potions."
"Well the walk to the dungeons is a trek, you'd better hurry. Would you like a note to explain for late arrival? Or will your friends have already explained for you to Professor Snape?"
"I'm sure it will be fine, Professor." Harry smiled at her, shouldered his bag and left the transfiguration classroom.
He sprinted down the long corridors, which were practically empty now as most of the students would have already reached their next lessons. He waited impatiently for the stairs to move into the correct place, and almost stumbled on one when he jumped too soon. When he arrived at the dungeon classroom, he knocked on the door before entering, as he knew Severus encouraged politeness, especially when one had been tardy.
He opened the door, and found the class staring back at him.
"You are late, Mr Potter." Severus said, without looking at him. He was waving his wand at the chalkboard, detailing the details of their exams at the end of the year. One practical, unknown time limit, one theory, two hours long.
"I am sorry, Professor Snape. Professor McGonagall wished to speak to me after the lesson."
Severus turned to him, mouth open to retort, and then he slowly closed it. His eyes narrowed slightly, clearly trying to make a decision. The class waited with baited breath, to see how many points he would take from Gryffindor house. It was usually ten or fifteen, for a Gryffindor's tardiness. A Slytherin's tardiness would issue a warning.
"Sit down Mr Potter, quickly." Severus finally replied, and then turned back to the chalkboard.
The students stared slightly open mouthed at their teacher's back, and then the whispers of 'bias' and 'favouritism' started. Harry sat next to Hermione, who raised her eyebrows at him.
"I did not ask anyone to begin chatting." Severus raised his voice, cutting over the low chatter, which quickly died out, "Let's begin. These are the details for your potions OWL's, which will take place at the end of the year. You will receive timetables for the examinations in March, not before. If the potions exam is later than other subjects, that is no excuse to put your potions revision on the backburner. I hope that is understood. Anyone wishing to enter a NEWT level potions class with need an Outstanding in their OWL exam."
Harry had just finished salvaging his books from his bag, and opened his notebook to make notes on what Severus was saying, as Hermione was next to him. They were sat on the front row of the class, so Harry couldn't see anyone else, but he didn't hear many other people scratching away with their quills.
"As with many other subjects, the first two semesters will be spent learning new material, and the third will be spent revising. The two hour lesson we have now, on a Tuesday, will be spent on practical work. Your single lesson on a Thursday period four will be spent on theory."
Harry paused to dip his quill into the ink pot he had brought with him, and he took the moment to see if anyone else on his row was writing. Hermione was busy scribbling an exact copy of Severus' speech, whereas (in the usual complete contrast) Ron and Seamus were sitting slumped on their stools, completely disinterested.
"The fifth year curriculum includes learning the properties of various dangerous ingredients, such as Moonstone, commonly used in the Wolfsbane potion, and learning the varieties of Venom Antidotes. These are the kinds of things you will learn in our theory-based lessons. In practical lessons, you will be attempting potions such as the strengthening solution, and the draught of peace. Every third Thursday lesson there will be a test to determine the end of year revision topics, so I just you start preparing for those."
Harry's scrawl across the page was shorter, but very precise. He made a note of the tests, and could see Hermione doing to same. He made a mental note to ask her if he could borrow the revision cards she made for first through fourth year potions; he knew she would have kept them.
"Any questions?" Severus asked, after a pause, Harry raised his hand, "Yes, Mr Potter?"
"Sir, Professor McGonagall is compiling a list of the usual first through fourth year topics in transfiguration that are covered in the OWL exams. Would there be a possibility of receiving a similar list for potions, so that our revision could be more focused?" Harry asked, with his hands folded on the table. Hermione nodded her head in agreement, Ron rolled his eyes.
"Mr Potter I do not like my teaching being compared to that of other teachers." Severus said sternly, and a few Slytherin's sniggered, "However, if anyone would like a list of the topics I advise you revise, I will endeavour to compile one for you before the Thursday lesson."
"Thank you Professor Snape." Harry replied, respectfully, and made a note on his page to remind him.
Hermione raised her hand, slowly, "Professor Snape?"
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Could you also include any books not specified on the textbook list, that you would encourage us to read for further knowledge?" Hermione's voice was nervous as she spoke to Professor Snape. She had been a lot less verbal in his classes from any other, since second year, when she had come to realise he did not appreciate her intelligence as the other teachers did.
Severus nodded, without a verbal response, and Hermione lowered her hand. He began to turn to the chalkboard, but then faced them again, "Five points to Gryffindor, each, for displaying worthwhile concern for your revision."
There was a slight intake of breath around the classroom, and one of the Slytherin's even made to dispute before his friend shoved him in the ribs. They had all been at Hogwarts for four years, and no one could remember a single time that Professor Snape had awarded a Gryffindor house points.
The next two hours were very silent, but at lunch there were a lot of whispers about what had happened. The news spread like wildfire; Severus Snape had awarded Gryffindor house points. Students stole glances at Severus and at Harry, and they each heard the word 'favouritism' more times than they could count. Minerva asked Severus about it at the head table, and he simply said he had awarded points where due, before returning to the task of stabbing his food.
Hermione was in shock. Potions had been the only lesson she had never received house points in. She whispered to Ron that it was only because of Harry, "You know what Professor Snape is usually like with me in class… It was Harry's question, anyway."
"Or maybe it doesn't matter that it was my question, or that I'm his ward," Harry practically growled, when he had just about had enough, "Maybe it's because Severus has changed, and you just can't see it."
They had a single lesson of Care of Magical Creatures after lunch, and then a single lesson of Herbology. The walk between the two was short, but the trio didn't particularly speak after Harry's outburst. They listened to their teacher's start of term lectures, like in all their other lessons, and took more notes. Harry didn't need either of these classes to become an auror, but he decided he wanted to aim for an Exceeds Expectations in each of them.
At dinner, there was an awkward silence between them, before Hermione started talking about their Potions work. Harry joined in and Ron made some 'hm' noises. They smiled at each other, and it was clear that the brief argument from earlier was behind them. After they had eaten, they walked up a few flights of stairs together, before they had to go their separate ways. Ron and Hermione were going back to the common room, and Harry was going Umbridge's office.
"Just do what she says, and get out there."
"I know Hermione, I'll be fine. I'll see you later."
From there, it didn't take Harry long to get to the defence classroom, climb the staircase and knock on the door. He knocked on the door, and heard the woman inside tell him to come in. The first thing he was pink, and then cats. Professor Umbridge had the walls lined with plates, decorated with moving cats of all different breeds. It was rather creepy, in his opinion.
"Good evening Mr Potter." Professor Umbridge said, from her place behind her desk, she nodded towards the other seat, next to a smaller desk, "Sit."
Harry walked a little further into the room, noticing the pink chairs, pink tablecloths, and pink sugar by Umbridge's pink cup of tea. He wondered how all the same colour didn't drive her insane. He closed the door behind him, making sure it was shut properly.
"You're going to be doing some lines for me today, Mr Potter." Umbridge told him, and he reached into his bag to get his things. He retrieved a quill and some ink, and placed them by the parchment provided on the table.
He saw Professor Umbridge twitching slightly, by her desk, her finger on one of her own quills, "Is anything the matter, Professor?" He asked her, in the most polite tone he could manage towards such a ghastly woman. He rehearsed Severus' lecture in his head.
Umbridge ignored him for a second, and picked up the quill by her fingers. It had a long, dark red feather, which curled at the end. She stroked it very delicately, before clearing her throat. She looked troubled by something, conflicted, but instead she said, "Mr Potter, I want you to write 'I must not tell lies'."
"How many times?" Harry asked, when she did not specify.
Again Umbridge looked slightly conflicted, clenching her fist around the red quill, "Fill both sides of the parchment, please, Mr Potter, then I will give you another one."
Harry picked up his quill and did as she asked. As he wrote, he could feel the burning gaze of his Professor, but he didn't look up at her once. With what he was writing being only a short sentence, he finished quickly. He looked up and met Umbridge's gaze. Silently, she took the parchment off him, and handed him a clean one. He repeated the line until both sides of this parchment was full, and then she handed him a third.
When the third was full, she did not hand him a new one. She looked at him for a moment, chest rising as if she had done strenuous exercise, hand still clutching at the red-feathered quill.
"Would you like me to write any more, Professor Umbridge?" Harry asked her.
"No, Mr Potter. Not for now." Umbridge replied, "Did you deserve this detention, Mr Potter?"
Harry stared at her, "Yes, Professor Umbridge."
"That's right." Professor Umbridge said, her grip on the red quill quivering slightly, "Because deep down, you know, you deserve to be punished." She smiled slightly, "Don't you, Mr Potter?"
Harry remained silent. Professor Umbridge smiled slightly, but almost like she was in pain. She finally let the grip on the feather quill go, and it clattered onto her desk. Harry watched it drop.
"Go on." Umbridge whispered.
Harry stood quickly, shoving his quill and ink into his bag without much care. He thought he had closed the ink pot, but he didn't check. He didn't even mind if all his books were covered with ink by the time he got to the common room, he just wanted to leave. He slung his bag over his shoulder and made for the door. Umbridge said nothing more, but her eyes were on him as he shut the door.
He breathed out a sigh of relief, raced down the staircase and out of the classroom. When he made it to the common room, he didn't see his friends, so he went straight up to the doom room. Ron was sat on his bed, talking to Dean on the other side of the room.
"Short detention mate!" Ron said, "You were only gone an hour, thought you'd be way longer. What'd she make you do?"
"Lines, three pieces of parchment, front and back. I had to write 'I must not tell lies'."
"Load of rubbish." Ron snorted, taking a piece of candy from his bedside table and popping it into his mouth, he spoke while eating it, "Hermione went down to the library to see if they had anything on venom antidotes, wanted to get a head start on the potions curriculum. Bloody mad that one."
"Tell me about it." Dean said, nodding in agreement. He had been in their potions classes for the first two years of Hogwarts, and remembered Hermione's enthusiasm for learning, and getting ahead of her classmates.
"What's Umbridge's office like?" Ron asked, eating more candy.
"Pink, everywhere, and loads of cats." Harry laughed, and Ron and Dean laughed with him, "Though, she held onto this quill the whole time. Like, really held onto it, not letting it go. It had a really long red feather on the end of it. I almost thought she was going to make me write with it."
"Weird." Ron commented, "Red feathered quills are usually quite expensive in Scribbulus."
"Maybe it's just a prized possession." Dean remarked, "Something that someone special gave to her."
"Yeh, like Umbridge has anyone who is 'someone special' in her life." Ron snorted.
Harry smiled, rolled his eyes, and lay down on his bed. There was something about that red quill had made him pause. Something had drawn his eye to it, and it wasn't just Umbridge's grip on it. The way she acted while holding it, like a long life, almost protective, almost obsessive.
He wrote a quick note to Severus saying his detention had gone fine, and a simple piece of information about the Dursley's, and then sent it off. He would ask Severus about the red quill, just to see if there was anything more to it. He was probably just being paranoid.