Much thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapters, better things ahead. please enjoy! ~F
Chapter Five
The First Day
Hermione noticed immediately that Harry was in a bad mood as he, Ron and Will came down from the boy's dormitory the next day. She had to run to catch them as they made their way across the common room.
"What's the matter?" she asked, "You look absolutely… Oh for heaven's sake!" she had just seen the Gryffindor notice board as they passed it. There was a large new sign pinned up over several others.
'Gallons of Galleons.
Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings? Like to earn a little extra gold? Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room, for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs. (We regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk.)'
"They are the limit," Hermione said grimly, pulling the notice down roughly, revealing the Hogsmeade weekend dates underneath it. She then turned to Ron, "We'll have to talk to them you know."
Ron looked alarmed at the idea. "Why?"
"Because we're prefects!" Hermione exclaimed, as they all climbed out of the portrait hole. "It's up to us to stop this kind of thing!"
Ron refused to say anything, so Hermione turned back to Harry, "Anyway, what's up Harry? You look really angry about something."
"This boy, Seamus I think, reckons Harry's lying about… You-Know-Who…" Will said, when Harry didn't respond himself.
Hermione sighed, "Yes, Lavender thinks so too," she commented gloomily.
"Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I'm a lying, attention-seeking prat, have you?" Harry snapped.
"No," said Hermione calmly. "I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about you, actually. And it would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down our throats, Harry, because in case you haven't noticed, we're on your side."
There was a short pause.
"Sorry," said Harry in a low voice.
"That's quite alright," Hermione responded. The four of them walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall in silence, but Hermione caught a lot of nonverbal by play that occurred between Harry and Will.
The sidelong glances, slight blushes and false disinterest clearly screamed that something had definitely been going on between them. Hermione guessed that it had to have been during their summer time at Grimmauld Place, as they hadn't been at Hogwarts for two days yet, and the way Harry shifted nervously when he caught Will's eyes reminded her of the way Faykan had reacted to Harry during the spring term of the previous year… but, if that was so… then again, adding this to what Hermione had seen when Will had tried to tackle the boggart in the drawing room…
Something was definitely up with the two boys. Hermione was certain of it now. Will was afraid of Harry rejecting and scorning him about something, and Harry was slightly uncomfortable in the boy's presence. She would get to the bottom of this; Hermione swore to herself that she would protect Harry from having his heart broken, again...
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Harry frowned as they followed a group of fourth year Ravenclaws into the Great Hall. The younger children had bunched together when they saw him, as though frightened he would attack stragglers. "Dumbledore didn't mention how long Grubbly-Plank was staying, did he?" Harry asked absently as they sat at the Gryffindor table and started to pile food onto their plates.
"No, he didn't," Hermione answered, "probably to not draw attention to Hagrid's absence."
"What do you mean, draw attention to it?" Ron asked, half-laughing. "How could we not notice?"
But before Hermione could answer, Angelina Johnson had walked over to talk to Harry about Quidditch. Unfortunately for her, Harry was distracted and only heard that she was the new captain, and that tryouts to replace Oliver Wood were going to be on Friday. "Ok…" Harry said vaguely, focusing more on Will, who had just pulled out a clay pipe and was currently stuffing it with some herb as he listened to their conversation.
"Um… Will." Hermione said, watching him, "Are you really going to smoke here?"
Will glanced confusedly at her for a moment, "Why not?" he asked, putting the small bag of herbs back into his robes, "It's not against the rules is it?"
Hermione thought for a second, "Well, not that I'm aware of, but it's really unhealthy…"
Will simply shrugged, and put the end of the pipe in his mouth, lighting it with his wand before pulling a bowl of porridge toward him. Soon, small smoke rings were sailing over the heads of the Gryffindors, and many students were watching Will with confused looks. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were giggling behind their hands as they watched.
With a whoosh and a clatter, hundreds of owls soared in through the upper windows. They descended all over the Hall, bringing letters and packages to their owners and showering the breakfasters with droplets of water; it was clearly raining hard outside.
Hedwig was nowhere to be seen, but Harry was hardly surprised; his only correspondent now was Sirius, and he doubted Sirius would have anything new to tell him after only twenty-four hours apart. Hermione, however, had to move her orange juice aside quickly to make way for a large damp barn owl bearing a sodden Daily Prophet in its beak. Will also received a letter, which he pocketed instead of opening immediately, opting to finish his breakfast.
"What are you still getting that for?" Harry said irritably, staring at the newspaper in Hermione's hand, thinking of Seamus and his mother as Hermione placed a Knut in the leather pouch on the owl's leg.
"It's best to know what the enemy is saying," Hermione replied darkly, unfurling the paper and disappearing behind it, not emerging until the three boys were finished with their food. "Nothing today, about either you or Dumbledore or anything."
Professor McGonagall was now moving along the table handing out timetables. Ron complained immediately about their Monday lineup, History of Magic, followed by double Potions, Divination, and finally double Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"That reminds me," Hermione said, turning to Will, who was cleaning his pipe out with a knife, "What extra classes did you choose Will?"
"Oh, um…" Will said sheepishly, "Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, I guess…"
Harry caught Wills eyes as he spoke, and could have swore he saw them flash blue before retuning to their cloudier shade. Shaking himself slightly, he changed the topic, "D'you reckon it's true this year's going to be really tough? Because of the exams?"
"Oh, yeah," said Ron. "Bound to be, isn't it? O. are really important; affect the jobs you can apply for and everything. We get career advice, too, later this year, Bill told me. So you can choose what N.E. you want to do next year."
"D'you know what you want to do after Hogwarts?" Harry asked the others, as they left the Great Hall shortly afterwards and set off towards their History of Magic classroom.
"Not really," said Ron slowly. "Except... well..." He looked slightly sheepish.
"What?" Harry urged him.
"Well, it'd be cool to be an Auror," said Ron in an off-hand voice.
"Yeah, it would," said Harry fervently.
"But they're, like, the elite," said Ron. "You've got to be really good. What about you, Hermione?"
"I don't know," she said. "I think I'd like to do something really worthwhile."
"An Auror's worthwhile!" said Harry.
"Yes, it is, but it's not the only worthwhile thing," said Hermione thoughtfully, "I mean, if I could take SPEW further..."
Harry and Ron carefully avoided looking at each other.
"Do I really want to know?" Will asked them tentatively in a mock whisper, and both Harry and Ron laughed.
History of Magic was as boring as it always was. Harry only paid attention long enough to see Will pull out the letter he had received at breakfast and start writing a response before his brain disengaged and he starting to play hangman with Ron on a spare piece of parchment. Hermione shot them both filthy looks the entire class out of the corner of her eye.
Hermione berated them as they left the lesson, threatening to withhold her notes for them to copy off of, but at that time Cho Chang walked up to Harry.
"Hi Harry," Cho said, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Uh… yeah sure." Harry replied, slightly confused. Wondering what they wanted, he followed them off to a small alcove while Ron, Hermione and Will waited patiently.
"Harry, I got a letter from Cedric… Cedric Diggory,…" Cho explained, and Harry nodded. He had briefly met Cedric the summer before last, right before the World Cup. "Anyway," Cho continued, "He just wanted to tell you that I, I mean we, both support you completely with You-Know-Who being back, and him murdering Faykan Undol the night of the Third Task. I wanted to tell you last night on the train, but it looked like it wasn't a good time to talk to you then."
Harry felt his heart rise the tiniest bit in his chest. Knowing that there were people that still believed him to be sane felt really good, "Thanks…" he said, and the bell rang, and they had to separate to make it to their lessons. Harry held on to the good feelings all the way down to the cool dungeons and Snape's potions classroom.
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Severus slammed the door behind him, startling the class of fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins into silence. "Settle down," he added coldly, for good measure.
It wasn't necessary for him to call the children to order, as they had clearly learned from five years experience to quiet as soon as the door was closed. Striding to the front of the class, Severus noted Harry, Granger, Weasley and Draco sitting at the front two tables while Faykan waited for him in the conveniently placed chair next to the teachers table.
"Before we begin today's lesson," Severus said, his eyes sweeping the classroom, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will all be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some members of this class undoubtedly are," he glanced at the more problematic students: Finnigan, Longbottom, Crabbe and Goyle mainly, "I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L or suffer my… displeasure."
"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me, as I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye." Many of the Gryffindor students smiled at his words.
"But, we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," Severus added softly, and the grins and smiles vanished slowly, "so, whether or not you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L students."
Severus continued, outlining the potion the class was to attempt to brew, the Draught of Peace, and designated them to the blackboard and the storeroom for their ingredients and directions.
In the commotion as the students set about gather their materials and lighting their cauldrons, Severus sat behind the desk, next to Faykan. "So, Master, what are we going to do during these classes… aside from advance potion brewing as a cover?" He said with a small smile.
"That I will leave up to you to decide, but for today we will, as a cover, create a batch of Athelas Restorative Potion, and you can help me to see what improvements can possibly be made with it," Severus answered.
He then slid the list of steps and ingredients he had used to make the potion that currently stocked the Hospital Wing over to the boy and began making his usual rounds through the room, pausing to inspect several students here and there. Draco and Harry were doing perfectly, as well as Weasley, although the latter's success was probably more due to Granger. Both potions were giving off the correct silver vapour ten minutes before the lesson was to end.
Severus held Faykan back as the class cleared out for lunch, to take a detailed observation of his potion, and to discuss some more private aspects the boy's plans. "So," Severus said as he drew out a flask of the blue-green potion to inspect, "How go your plans to reveal yourself to your friends?"
"With difficulty," Faykan replied, taking out a piece of parchment and adding a few lines to the end of what looked like a letter. "Harry, for one, is starting to occasionally see through my glamours, and Hermione is becoming suspicious of the way Harry and I act with each other."
"Well," Severus said, watching Faykan out of the corner of his eye, "I did warn you what might happen if you stayed at Headquarters…"
"I know!" Faykan said sharply, "But I had to see if he was alright, no matter the cost, even if I did risk exposing myself too early. I almost did too…"
Severus grinned slightly, "Was it worth it?" he asked pointedly. The boy frowned slightly, but then smiled sheepishly, "yes…"
He rose from his chair, folding the parchment as he did so, "Mail this up to Dumbledore for me, in about two or three days, stage two of my devious scheme is about to commence, and judging from the Dark Lord's recent surge of magic, its not a moment too soon."
With that said, Faykan left the folded parchment on Severus' desk, and made his way to the door, "Oh, about the potion, I do have a few ideas, but we'll need to wait till the weekend to attempt them." He said before exiting to the dungeon corridors.
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Harry angrily stormed up the marble staircase toward North Tower. Hermione and Ron had been arguing again about something stupid and Harry had had enough. He wondered why they couldn't just give it a rest sometimes. His anger blazed within him, and the sight of their shocked faces when he left them in the Great Hall gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.
He sat under the trapdoor outside the Divination classroom for around fifteen minutes before he heard someone climbing the stairs. He turned to find Will mounting the final landing before the trapdoor, and the boy smiled as he saw Harry, "Ron and Hermione said you might be here."
Harry felt his heart skip a beat when Will sat next to him on the stone floor. There was simply something that was eerily familiar about the boy, something that Harry felt both attracted and repulsed by, and he had no way to sort out his feelings with him sitting so very close to him.
"Do you want to talk about it? The way your temper seems to be on the surface these days?" Will asked quietly, taking Harry's hand in his own.
Sparks flew up Harry's arm as they touched, but he still shook his head, "No, I really don't."
Will nodded, "Then we don't have to." And he leaned back against the wall, absently rubbing his thumb over the back of Harry's hand, sending waves of warmth coercing through Harry from his arm. "So, how about that Potions lesson?" he said, changing the subject.
Harry shrugged. He was far too distracted by his inner turmoil concerning Will holding his hand to respond. On one hand, he wanted to pull his hand away from the boy as fast as he could, while on the other, he wanted to seize Will by the shoulders and demand him to explain why he was so familiar to Harry. The raging emotions were driving Harry mad. Suddenly, Will was kneeling right in front of him, staring at him with those cloudy blue eyes. They bore right into Harry, as if they could see into his own conflicted mind. Then he smiled, smiled!
"I know what it is you feel about me Harry." Will said flatly, "the fear and uncertainly of who I am and the memories of you dead friend." Will put his free hand on Harry's shoulder, offering comfort, while the other brought Harry's hand to Will's chest, signaling camaraderie, as he continued to speak "You should not let your heart be so troubled by these things, Harry. Death is an illusion, for those who die do not truly ever leave us. You of all people should know this…"
Harry stared into the eyes of Will Stanton, a boy he hardly heard speak, but felt like he knew better than any person alive right now. The taller boy leaned forward, until their foreheads were almost touching, "I need to tell you something… something very important Harry," Will whispered, so softly that Harry had to strain his ears to hear him, "I'm not who you think I am… In fact I've never been who you thought I was…" Will looked very nervous and took a short deep breath before speaking again, "Harry, I need to tell you the truth. Harry, I'm…"
But just at that moment, the bell for lunch to end rang, and the trapdoor to Trelawney's classroom banged open, startling both boys. Before Harry could even blink, Will had flown up the ladder and into the room. When Harry followed, he found Will sitting at one of the nearer tables, chatting quietly with Professor Trelawney.
Sighing, Harry took his usual seat in the back, nearest the window, and waited for the rest of the class to file in over the next five minutes. Ron went straight over to Harry, and informed him that he and Hermione had stopped arguing, but were concerned about Harry taking his temper out on them all the time, but Harry was still watching Will, and merely grunted to say he was listening.
Lavender and Parvati had sat on either side of the boy, and were giggling obnoxiously. Some kind of irritated creature was raging inside Harry chest while he watched Lavender ask to read Will's palm for him; clearly it was an excuse to touch other boy, but all Harry wanted to do was finish their strange and awkward conversation prior to the lesson. At least Will looked as uncomfortable as he felt. He was bright red and sneaking glances over to Harry and Ron's table, but couldn't escape before the class started.
Professor Trelawney set them to interpreting each other's dreams, using the books she had spread across the room, 'The Dream Oracle,' while she herself alternated from wandering the room answering questions, to sitting at the table with Will, Lavender, and Parvati and instructing them through the assignment.
Harry had no desire to work on what his dreams meant, as he already knew what the consistent dream of the graveyard meant. He was much more interested in trying to puzzle out what Will was talking about just before the class. What had he been about to say?
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Hermione was glad to see that Harry was no longer angry when he, Ron and Will returned from Divination. Unfortunately, she also noticed the large increase in the amount of tension between Will and Harry. What on earth could those boys be up to? Sadly, now was not the time to investigate, when they had to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts for their first class with Professor Umbridge.
When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Hermione wondered fleetingly if the effect of looking like a toad was intentional or simply coincidence.
"Well, good afternoon!" she said, when finally the whole class had sat down. A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply.
"Tut, tut," chided Professor Umbridge, as if she was speaking to little children. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her, dully.
"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Hermione silently pocketed her wand, and picked up the quill she had placed on her desk for her to take notes with. Professor Umbridge continued to lecture, telling them that they were unfortunately far below the O.W.L standard placed by the Ministry.
"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."
She rapped the blackboard with her short wand, and a message appeared on the board.
'Course Aims,
1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.'
For a couple of minutes the room was filled with the scratching of quills on parchment. Something about what they had copied was bothering Hermione, there was nothing about actually practicing spells used for defense.
"I should like you to turn to page five and read 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk." Professor Umbridge said before settling herself in the chair behind her desk, watching them each in turn with her large pouchy eyes.
Hermione raised her hand. The Professor, of all things, pretended not to notice her trying to ask a question, and refused to acknowledge her until over half the class had stopped reading to watch. "Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked, pretending to have just noticed her.
"Not about the chapter, no." Hermione replied.
"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."
"I've got a query about your course aims," insisted Hermione.
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. "And your name is?" she asked.
"Hermione Granger," Hermione said.
"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully" said Professor Umbridge in a voice of patronizing sweetness.
"Well, I don't," Hermione said bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."
There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.
"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
"We're not going to use magic?" Ron exclaimed loudly.
Umbridge reacted swiftly, frowning and turning toward Ron, "Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.…?"
"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.
Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Harry, Will and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Will.
"Yes, Mr.…?"
"Stanton…" Will said flatly.
"Stanton… You wanted to ask something?"
"Yes," said Will. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to learn not only when to use defensive magic, but how to?"
"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Mr. Stanton?" asked Professor Umbridge, in her falsely sweet voice.
"I don't see how that matters..." Will said, but Umbridge interrupted him by clearing her throat.
"Hem, hem… Oh, but it does, as I'm afraid that since you are not one, you are therefore not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way…"
"What use is that?" said Harry loudly. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a…"
"Hand, Mr. Potter!" sang Professor Umbridge. Hermione noticed that she seemed more incensed that Harry had spoken at all rather than he spoke out of turn.
This 'discussion' continued on for several minutes, Dean Thomas chipping in to support Harry unfinished statement, and Parvati mentioning that they had to do practical demonstrations of the spells for their O.W.L.s But Umbridge would not be swayed.
"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," replied Umbridge dismissively to this.
"Without ever practicing them beforehand?" said Parvati incredulously. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"
"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough…" Umbridge tried to say.
"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" said Harry loudly, his fist in the air again.
Professor Umbridge looked up. "This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.
"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?" he retorted.
"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter." Umbridge chided.
"Oh, yeah?" said Harry, fury etched in every word.
"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" enquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.
"Hmm, let's think..." said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice. "Maybe... Lord Voldemort!"
Ron gasped; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."
The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry.
"Now, let me make a few things quite plain." Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned towards them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk. "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead…"
"He wasn't dead," said Harry angrily, "but yeah, he's returned!"
"Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."
"It is NOT a lie!" shouted Harry. "I saw him, I fought him!"
"Detention, Mr. Potter!" said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners'."
Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk. Harry, however, stood up, hands clenched and white. The light in the room diminished slightly, elongating and deepening the shadows around the classroom. Everyone stared at him; Seamus Finnigan looked half-scared, half-fascinated.
"Harry, no!" Hermione whispered, tugging at his sleeve, but Harry jerked his arm out of her reach.
"So," he said, his voice dripping with anger and venom and shaking with rage, "according to you, Faykan dropped dead of his own accord?"
There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night Faykan had died. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.
"Mr. Undol's death was a tragic accident," she said coldly.
"It was murder," roared Harry. A powerful ripple of magic was sent through the room, causing the glass windows to rattle violently. Harry was shaking. "Voldemort killed him and to deny it makes you and you precious Minister a liar as well as a fool!"
Professor Umbridge's face was quite blank. For a moment, Hermione thought she was going to scream back at him. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear."
Harry kicked his chair aside with such force it slammed into the nearby wall, strode around Ron, Will and Hermione and up to the teacher's desk. Everyone could feel the pressure of his magic as it flowed off of him in waves, setting their teeth on edge and making many people sweat.
Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and started scribbling. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand, sealing it.
"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear," said Professor Umbridge, holding out the note to him.
Harry took it from her without saying a word, turned on his heel and left the room, not even looking back at Ron and Hermione, slamming the classroom door shut behind him.
Umbridge smiled as Harry left, and then directed the class back to their reading. When she made to go back to her chair, however, she stumbled on something and ran hard into her desk. Hermione noticed Will glaring wickedly as he leaned forward and pretended to read the very boring and overly basic book.
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Draco entered the Room of Requirement to the sounds of Hermione shouting. He had heard all the insane rumors during dinner about Harry shouting at Professor Umbridge during the Gryffindor's first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but decided to wait till the evening to get the truth directly from the source.
"How can he let that horrible woman teach us? And in out O.W.L. year too!" she was shouting as he entered. The room was very subdued today, almost looking like a regular common room instead of their usual training room. Apparently Harry didn't want the extra reminder of Faykan's death.
"Well, we've never had great Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we?" Harry replied to her. "You know what it's like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job; they say it's jinxed."
"Yes, but to employ someone who's actually refusing to let us do magic! What's Dumbledore playing at?"
"And she's trying to get people to spy for her," said Ron darkly.
"Of course she's here to spy on us all, that's obvious, why else would Fudge have wanted her to come?" snapped Hermione.
"Don't start arguing again," said Harry wearily, as Ron opened his mouth to retaliate. "Can't we just... let's just do that homework; get it out of the way..."
"Hello," Draco said finally, announcing himself as he dropped into another squashy armchair near his Gryffindor friends. "So," he said casually, as they all pulled out their respective homework, "Is anyone going to be kind enough to fill me in on what's been going on since last summer. We couldn't really talk on the train with Longbottom right there…"
So Hermione spoke, explaining Harry's attack by dementors over the summer, their short stay at the mysterious headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, up to their class with Umbridge. Harry himself remained silent the entire time, but Draco could see a vein pulsing in his head during certain parts of Hermione's tale. It vanished immediately when Hermione mentioned how Will was brought into the picture by Professor Snape, and Harry struggled to hide his rather odd expression, something like a confused smile. This intrigued Draco, and he wondered what might have occurred between the unknown quantity of Will Stanton, and Harry.
Furthermore, he was just as interested as to why his godfather would choose to take an apprentice now, of all times, and allow him into the headquarters of the Order. It seemed very out of character for Professor Snape, cold calculating man that he was who preferred the Slytherin way of working alone to accept someone to learn from him and help with his experiments.
Perhaps it was time that Draco start to throw his weight around as the Potion master's godson and investigate the mysterious new Gryffindor himself.
"Where is this Will right now?" he asked, just to keep the conversation going.
"I think he mentioned wanting to walk around the grounds for a bit," Ron commented, "he mentioned something about a tree… Rowan I think…"
Potential Spoilers Ahead, You have been Warned!
So, Umbridge is here in full terrible form. but it seems that she's earned the ire of Will Stanton, aka Faykan Undol. there will be a great deal of this madness to come, with him exacting a more glorious vengeance upon her than Peeves ever managed in canon. a bit of personal pleasure in torments a horrible person, albeit a perfectly written antagonist. subtle inclusions of Will hunting specific materials, for those who have/are read/reading Dark is Rising, you may be recognizing what he is up to, although I feel it was somewhat obvious from the onset. more to come, and I am very pleased with progress that has been made with not only fanfiction as well as project Raven's Flight. until next time! ~F