Hey everyone! Hope you are all doing well, enjoying life and keeping happy! In my last update I did say chapters would not be as frequent now I am at University but believe me, I am doing my best. My course is very full on and I also have a part time job, try to stay with me! I really loved writing this chapter because I featured Professor McGonagall's inspection (page 286 of OOTP, easily one of my favourite scenes in all the books), and Dumbledore's Army being formed! Warning, lots of book extracts, next chapter will be more of my own!
Enjoy and please review :)
On Saturday morning, Harry woke up rearing to go. He did not sleep in, as Severus suggested he might, but instead got up early and spent some time painting in order to clear his mind. He had spent time with the chalks, charcoals and pencils that Severus had gotten him, and enjoyed them each, but painting had remained his favourite. He found it relaxing, to lazily choose which colours would match what he wanted to display best, and then watch it create a picture on the canvas, bit by bit.
He did not spend long with it this morning, however, simply painting the background colours for something he would work on later, and left it to dry naturally. He found it had a more pleasing effect when he knew it had dried in time, and not with magic. He washed his brushes and palettes (Severus had added a small sink into the room upon Harry's request, as he found it more relaxing to wash the brushes by hand) but dried them magically, placing them back into their storage places.
He dressed in a casual green t-shirt, with a muggle brand written across the front, and black jeans. He positioned his favourite black beanie over the back of his unruly hair (which he preferred to leave away from gel on the weekends) and went into the kitchen in time for breakfast.
Severus was clearly surprised to see him up, but made no comment and served him some porridge. Harry added fruit and honey, ate happily, and drunk his nutritional potion. Severus told him that it wouldn't be long until he could stop taking them, probably by November.
"What are your plans for today, Harry?" Severus questioned, as they finished off their breakfast. He was not in his usual teaching robes, but average muggle clothing (something Harry was still getting used to), indicating that he would be spending the day inside, most likely marking papers and homework assignments.
"Well I did some painting this morning, just some light background work for something I am planning." Harry told him, finishing off the slices of kiwi fruit in his bowl and purposefully not being very specific, "I'll probably head back to Gryffindor Tower after this and do some work before lunch; then it is Quidditch practise this afternoon. We have our first game next week."
Severus hummed and nodded, "Will you be mentioning your time in the Slytherin Common Room to those in Gryffindor?"
Harry groaned, "I'd probably start an uprising, honestly. I think it is better left unsaid. I will say I was with you for the evening, which is not necessarily untrue."
"It is not untrue, but I would be careful Harry, we have discussed your friends' eagerness to play the hurt victim before. If they find out from someone else, I believe you'll have an over-reactive brood on your hands." Severus cautioned his ward, clearing the table with a few flicks of his hands. Harry watched and then nodded.
He made his way slowly to Gryffindor Tower, with even more of Severus' words playing on his mind. His comments from the night before, regards Harry's want of a defence club akin to their second year, had not quite slipped away from Harry's interest yet. He needed to find the right way to bring it up to Ron and Hermione.
As it happened, both of them were already in the Common Room when he arrived back. They were sat comfortably with Ginny and the twins, clearly waiting for him to return. Their heads flicked quickly in his direction when he came in, and he wondered immediately if they knew.
"We thought you would come back after dinner last night." Hermione started by saying.
"Well," Harry replied defensively, "I wanted to spend some time with Severus."
"We assumed so, and then we got your note." Hermione nodded. She searched in her jacket pocket, and then held the very same note up, "Thank you for sending it, we did start to get worried as curfew got nearer."
"I thought you might." Harry muttered, remembering his conversation with Severus. They had discussed, several times, the control that Hermione seemed to like having over both of the boys – him and Ron. Harry had never particularly seen it before Severus pointed it out so clearly. It was the way she watched their movements, made sure she knew what they had studied, small things.
She had begun to get annoyed that Harry was now beating her in a couple classes. The look on her face when Harry surpassed her in a Charms test had told him everything he needed to know, and then how she had tried to paint over it with a smile.
"Wow Harry, your score is higher than mine." She had commented, without actually congratulating him on the impressive mark. Harry was surprised she would still study with him in the evenings, and encourage him to keep his academics up – he was waiting for the moment when that stopped.
He sat down on the armchair closest to the fire, which was unoccupied. He crossed his legs underneath him, just as Crookshanks jumped into his lap. He petted the ginger half-cat-half-kneazle furball, and looked up to his friends nervous gazes, "What?" He asked.
Hermione cleared her throat, the others did not look at them, while Harry's look became sharp, "Harry… We're not accusing you of anything –"
"Always a great start to a conversation, Hermione." Harry said hotly, suddenly pushing Crookshanks off his lap. He stared at her while she fidgeted, but seemingly she regained confidence and crossed her arms before she spoke.
"Harry, quite a few members of Gryffindor aren't very happy that you spend so much time in the dungeons." She said, firmly, "Seamus was talking about it last night, in here, to people. He noticed you weren't with us, and loudly asked where you were, since you weren't in the dormitories either."
"I hope my friends had the good sense to tell him where to go, then." Harry replied angrily, and Hermione lowered her gaze, no one else would look at him either, "Evidently not."
"Well that's not really our place Harry." Hermione snapped.
"What, to defend me?" Harry replied, "I would say that is exactly what friends are meant to do, not whatever this is."
"We're just trying to warn you –"
"Warn me against what? Seamus?" Harry grabbed his bag off the floor and stood, "Hermione, I know what house I belong to, and it isn't Slytherin, but I won't give up having a relationship with the only father figure I have right now, just because Seamus doesn't like it!"
"Oh for Merlin's sake Harry don't be so bloody dramatic!" Hermione shouted after him, as he climbed the stairs to the boy's dormitories, "We're just trying to help!"
Harry slammed the door to the bedroom upstairs when he entered, drowning out whatever words Hermione said after that. He couldn't stand her lectures that were 'supposed to help'. He saw them as controlling – and he would not have his relationship with Severus controlled.
He ran a hand through his hair, slumping onto his bed. He hadn't been in the common room two minutes before that disagreement had broken out. He knew being taken into wardship by the potions master would cause problems, but never to this extent, not with Hermione. Ron, Ginny and the twins didn't involve themselves so much, and Harry much preferred them for it. Hermione couldn't seem to help herself.
He reached under his bedside table for his book on meditation, and shut the curtains so he could read in peace. Professor McGonagall had recommended this particular book to her during his stay at Hogwarts that summer. She had advised he learn the art, in order to control his anger issues better. He had accepted the advice, and he thought he might need a recap after the clash with Hermione.
It would at least keep him busy until Quidditch.
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Harry hardly spoke to Hermione the whole weekend or through Monday's lessons. It wasn't until Tuesday that he forgot about being cross with her. They entered Transfiguration first period, and saw Professor Umbridge sitting with her clipboard in the corner of the room.
Ron sniggered. Harry knew his friend had been hoping that they would get to see the interaction between the two Professors. Ron thought Umbridge would get what she deserved in this class, whereas Harry wasn't sure. He just hoped Professor McGonagall wouldn't lose her job at the school; she was easily one of the best teachers at Hogwarts.
Professor McGonagall, at that point, marched into the room, not paying Professor Umbridge any heed. Silence fell as she began to instruct the class, asking Seamus to hand out the homework from the previous week, and asking Lavender Brown to take a box of mice around the class and hand one to each student.
"Hem, hem!" Professor Umbridge coughed from the corner of the room. Professor McGonagall still payed her no heed. Seamus practically threw Harry's essay back at him, and Harry saw he had received an 'O', thirty-six out of forty. He grinned, turning it upside down so Hermione couldn't see. Professor McGonagall continued intrusting the class.
"Right then, everyone, listen closely – Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention – most of you have now successfully Vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have got the gist of the spell. Today, we shall be –"
"Hem, hem." Professor Umbridge repeated her cough.
"Yes?" Professor McGonagall finally asked, at the interruption.
"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec –" Professor Umbridge did not get the chance to finish her sentence.
"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom." Professor McGonagall said, in a tone that made Umbridge seem certifiably ridiculous for even asking such a question, "As I was saying: today, we shall be practising the altogether more difficult Vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing spell –"
"Hem, hem."
"I wonder how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods," Professor McGonagall snapped, and turned on Professor Umbridge, who looked quite taken aback at the fury in her colleague's voice, "if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit to talk when I am talking."
Looking as if she had been slapped, Umbridge silently straightened the parchment on her clipboard, and began to write, furiously. Meanwhile, completely unbothered by that response, Professor McGonagall continued her address to the students (many of whom, most noticeably Ronald Weasley, were trying to contain their laughter and glee).
They were set to work on the Vanishing spell. Harry noticed that Umbridge did not follow McGonagall around the room, and that made him chuckle. By the end of the lesson he had successfully Vanished his mouse, the first in the class, to McGonagall's pride. She awarded Gryffindor twenty points, saying that was one of the fastest times anyone had ever managed it in. Hermione looked furious.
When Professor McGonagall finally told them to pack away, Harry saw Umbridge rise from her chair too. Ron had Vanished all but his mouse's tail, and Lavender looked about to gag as he dropped it into the box she was carrying. As they went to file out of the class a couple people clapped Harry on the back for the points he had won. After which, Harry and Ron fell back to eavesdrop on Professor's Umbridge and McGonagall.
"How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Professor Umbridge asked.
"Thirty-nine years this December." Professor McGonagall replied, abruptly. She snapped her bag shut, making it clear to the other woman that she wanted to leave.
"Very well," said Professor Umbridge, making a note, "You will receive the results of you inspection in ten days' time."
"I can hardly wait." Professor McGonagall told her sarcastically, and then without looking at Umbridge for a reaction, spotted Harry and Ron still lingering by the door, "Did you need to speak with me, boys?"
Ron hesitated at the question, unsure of what to say, but Harry quickly nodded at the transfiguration Professor. He whispered to Ron that he would catch up, so Ron shrugged, and left. Umbridge brushed past Harry with a sweet smile on her way out, and Harry walked to the front of the class.
"Yes, Mr Potter? Don't you have another class to be getting to?" Professor McGonagall said, collecting papers together on her desk.
"Yes, Professor McGonagall. I just wanted to say thank you for the recommendation of the meditation book, I finished reading it over the weekend and found it very useful." He said, shuffling on the balls on his feet.
The Head of Gryffindor house stopped moving, and smiled at him, faintly and tiredly, "I am pleased to hear it, Harry, for your own sake as much as anyone's." Her eyes flicked towards the door, "It would not do you well to continue with an angry stance, not this year."
"No, I agree." Harry looked sheepish; he knew his anger had been prevalent in the past, "Severus made that clear to me as well. I just wanted to say thank you."
"You are very welcome, Harry." Professor McGonagall said, "Be careful with using Professor's Snape's first name, and be quick to get to your next class. Go on."
Harry nodded and left, but ended up lingering at the door again, "Professor?"
"Yes, Harry?" Professor McGonagall looked up, seemingly exasperated.
He grinned, "Great class today."
Professor McGonagall had the slightest smirk on her face as Harry left, and he swore he heard a light chuckle too.
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Harry had double potions after that, where Severus had scolded him for being late. After lunch, they had a single lesson of Care of Magical Creatures, which was also inspected by Professor Umbridge. She seemed quite happy with their substitute teacher, Professor Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank, though disappointed she could not tell her more about Hagrid's absence from the school.
"'Fraid I can't." She had said breezily, "Don't know anything more about it than you do. Got an owl from Dumbledore, would I like a couple weeks' teaching work. I accepted. That's as much as I know. Well… Shall I get started then?"
Malfoy, of course, had jumped at the opportunity to disgrace Hagrid during that particular inspection. When Umbridge had asked about injuries in the class, he had practically dived forward, saying he had been 'slashed' by a Hippogriff in third year.
Umbridge, of course, had been incredulous, and scribbled a furiously large note on her clipboard. Harry had bitten his lip, dug his nails into his thumb and counted to ten. Ron and Hermione had watched him carefully, wondering whether he would smack Malfoy when the Slytherin smirked in their direction.
When they had returned to the Common Room that evening, Hermione was more sympathetic than critical, and Harry felt himself forgive her for what she had said several nights ago. He still did not believe his friends' should have control over his time, but Hermione had not mentioned it since, so Harry let it go.
They gossiped, for a while, about the inspections. They kept their voices down, though gradually everyone left for dinner and their rooms.
"She's such an awful woman," Hermione said, in a small voice, "Awful, really. You know, Ron and I were saying, we've got to do something about her."
"I suggested poison." Ron said begrudgingly.
"I have access to a large supply." Harry said, bemused.
"No…" Hermione sighed, "I mean, something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and how we're not going to learn any Defence from her at all."
"Well, what can we do about that?" Ron huffed, stretching his arms, "'S too late, isn't it? She's got the job, she's here to stay. Fudge will make sure of that."
Harry piped up, thinking of a conversation he had on Friday night, "I was talking to Severus about this. I was asking to borrow some books of his, about Defence, so I could start teaching myself the topics… He gave me an idea, you know, about taking that a little further."
"What'd you mean?" Ron sat up, staring at him oddly. Hermione was leaning forward, and somehow Harry thought that she and Severus had had the same idea.
"Well, starting a club, of sorts." Harry shrugged, feeling nervous, "Something to the like of our Defence class in second year, I suppose, with Lockhart and the duelling. We need something so we can actually take time to practise our practical skills."
"Exactly Harry!" Hermione beamed, and Harry thought for once the pair of them were on the same page, "That's just what I was thinking! We can teach ourselves how to duel."
Ron groaned, "Come off it, the pair of you. You want us to do extra work? D'you realise how far behind I am already?"
"Well then you should keep up to date with your homework, like Harry and I." Hermione said hotly, "Speaking of which, Harry, what did you get in the Transfiguration homework?" Her eyes were wide, testing.
"It doesn't matter." Harry dismissed, and Hermione looked disappointed, then suddenly pleased. She probably thought Harry had done badly, and didn't want to talk about it - that meant, to her, she had probably beaten him. Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes at her obvious and childish behaviour. She was stupidly academically competitive.
Hermione carried on, "Anyway, Ron, this is so much more important than homework!"
"I didn't think there was anything in the universe more important than homework." Ron said.
"Don't be silly, of course there is." Hermione said feverishly, and Harry saw her face light up.
"Yes, Hermione's right." Harry cut across her. She looked annoyed, but Harry knew Hermione's kind of inspiration was not Ron's kind of inspiration, "Think about it Ron. It's not just about the academics, and learning what we need to know, it's about Umbridge. If we did this, we'd be showing just what we can do, and right under her nose. It would be showing her just where she can stick all of those proclamations of her, her 'high inquisitor' title and all."
Ron sat up in his armchair, instead of lounging across it, "Yeh… Yeh it would!"
"And of course," Hermione pointed out, going back to her own point and Harry almost groaned at her, "It's about preparing ourselves for what is out there. It's about making sure we can really defend ourselves. The war is getting closer and closer, we can't waste a whole year not learning any Defence."
Ron slid back down in his chair, looking defeated, "We can't do much by ourselves though, hm, let's be honest. We're just students; we can't set up a proper club. I mean, all right, we can go and look jinxes up in the library and try and practise them, I suppose."
Harry slid down in his chair too, knowing that Ron was right… But Hermione was nodding.
"No, I agree, we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," she said, "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we are going wrong."
"If you're talking about Remus or Severus …" Harry began.
"No, no, I'm not talking about Remus or Professor Snape." Hermione said, "Remus is much too busy with the Order, the most we could see him was during a Hogsmeade weekend, and that's not nearly often enough. Professor Snape, on the other hand, would lose his job if we got caught. We all know this is not going to be sanctioned or approved of by Professor Umbridge. No Hogwarts teacher can be involved or they would be sacked."
"Who, then, exactly?" Harry asked, exasperated. Hermione clearly had an idea, and she was taking a long time to get to her point.
"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione said, heaving a great, long sigh, "You should be our teacher, Harry."
Harry stared at her for a second, and watched Ron sit up in his seat again. He chuckled then, humourlessly, trying to gauge whether Hermione was joking. Neither she, nor Ron, laughed with him.
"You can't be serious." Harry deadpanned, staring between them.
"It's a good idea." Ron commented.
"What?"
"You, teaching us Defence. It's a good idea."
"But…" He stuttered, not taking them seriously, "But I'm not a teacher. I wouldn't know how."
"You're the best in the year at Defence Against the Dark Arts." Hermione said, slightly coolly.
Previously, Harry would have rejected the very idea, especially when it came from Hermione, but he knew right now it was true. Even with Umbridge as a Professor, he was beating her. Severus had quickly shown him what kind of answers Umbridge wanted, ones that fell strictly within the Ministry guidelines, and the pink-clad teacher had therefore had to give him remarkably good marks.
"Not in previous years –"
"You beat me in third year – the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew the subject." Hermione said, and her tone was incredibly aggravated, "Besides, Harry… I'm not just talking about our, your, test results. Think about what you've done."
"How d'you mean?" Harry said, nervously. He had a good idea of what the pair of his friends were about to start spouting, Severus was trying to make him see his accomplishments all the time – despite most of them involving rule-breaking that the Professor did not approve of.
Ron snorted, "Let's think shall we… First year, you saved the Philosopher Stone from You-Know-Who, aged eleven."
"That wasn't –"
"Second year, you killed the Basilisk and destroyed Riddle."
"Well if Fawkes hadn't –"
"Third year," Ron continued, raising his voice, "You fought of all of those Dementors, at once, to protect Hermione and yourself and the other you and Sirius."
"That was because of the time-turner –"
"And last year!" Ron practically shouted, "You fought off You-Know-Who again, and won the Triwizard Cup, all at once!" When he was done, he heaved a great sign and collapsed down into his chair.
Harry felt as if, had it not been for Severus discussing these very subjects with him and the fact he had been practising meditation, he would have burst by now. Ron and Hermione were smirking at him, which only ceased to make his anger climb even higher. He took a deep sigh, and dug his nails into his thumb.
"Just… Please just listen to me for a moment." He pleaded with them, "It sounds wonderful, great, when you say it all like that. Of course I am proud of those things, but so much of it involved sheer, dumb luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time, and I never planned any of it. It was impulse, whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help…"
Hermione's expression softened and she leaned over to grab Harry's hand, "You still did it, though." She said quietly, "You still did all those things."
"Look, Hermione… I appreciate your comments, but don't act like you know better than I do." Hermione retracted her hand at his words, "I was there, and I know what went on. I didn't do any of that, any at all, because I was brilliant at Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Harry…"
"It's true." He insisted, "I got through all of those things, every single one, because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right. It was all a big blunder, an accident; I didn't have a clue what I was doing."
His friends stayed silent.
"You don't know what it's like, having to face him. Neither of you do, you've never had to do it. You think it's just memorising a bunch of spells at throwing them at him, like you're in class?" Harry ran his hands through his hair, but couldn't stop himself from going on, "You are a nanosecond away from being murdered, or tortured, or watching a friend die, facing the man who made you an orphan, facing a man who wants to murder half the world… You think you can think straight? You can't learn that in classroom…" He was about to go on, to talk about Cedric, but found that he couldn't. He stopped short, and covered his mouth with his hands, elbows on his knees.
"Harry," Ron said quietly, looking rather helpless, "We weren't saying anything like that… It's just, well…"
Hermione cut in to help him, "All of what you just said, Harry, is true… That's why we need you. What we get in class, what grades we get, it doesn't matter in the real world. We need to know what it's really like… facing… facing him… facing V-Voldemort."
Harry looked up at the use of the name, but didn't respond to their comments.
"Harry," Ron cleared his throat, "You said you had talked to, uh, Professor Snape. Did you mention starting a club in particular? Even if he wasn't the teacher… Do you think he'd help us?"
"Professor Snape can't be involved in this." Hermione said sharply, her voice no longer soft and trying to calm Harry, "He'll be sacked."
"Well we aren't planning on getting caught, are we?" Ron said snidely, crossing his arms, "Harry?"
Harry nodded, silently, and then said aloud, "I think he would help us, supply us with books that we couldn't get otherwise, advise us on what spells to practise. I think he would help. He could give us information on Umbridge, being a teacher, what her schedule is like, when we're least likely to get caught. Nothing that would directly relate him to us, nothing that could get him sacked."
Hermione shuffled a little, "I suppose that would be alright, if you are sure Harry, and you ask him first. We could write to Remus and Sirius as well, see if they can send us any advice… Are you talking to Sirius yet, Harry?"
Harry shook his head, and Hermione said nothing more on the subject. It was still an uneasy topic.
"Well, that doesn't really matter, if we've got Professor Snape helping us." Ron said confidently.
"Just," Harry hesitated, and his two friends returned their gazes to him, "Just give me some time to think about it, alright? I'm not too sure about this whole teaching thing, really…" He trailed off.
He still wanted to call them crazy for the idea. He knew they needed something akin to this, that was why he had brought it up, but it still seemed stupid and out of reach… A year ago he would have been all for it. That was before Severus had knocked some sense into him, but Severus seemed supportive of this particular brand of rule breaking. They really did need to learn some practical defence…
"Just give me some to think about it." He repeated, firmly.
Hermione and Ron shared uneasy looks, but Hermione seemed defeated, at least for tonight, "Alright," She conceded, "Just… Just really think about it, Harry, please. Don't put it completely out of your mind and forget about it. You seemed happy with the idea before we mentioned you teaching, but I really think that's the best option we have… Please think carefully about it."
He nodded at her, and left the room to go to bed. He slept restlessly, and woke up several times throughout the night with his scar feeling prickly. He tossed and turned, and thought of everything they had spoken out. Eventually he fell asleep, and in the morning, he wondered what his dream of the long corridor and the locked door meant.