Their very last class of the term was Philosophy. Umbridge had a special look on her face. Ever since she had been appointed High Inquisitor, she had been roaming the corridors looking for misbehavior and in class, she was looking at them all like property. Her ideas, thankfully, were not shared by every one. She had based her whole theory on the awful book she made them read, and the book was only propaganda and had little facts in it.
"Good morning children" She greeted them.
"Good morning Professor Umbridge" Replied dully the class, already bored by the simple greeting. They all began opening their book. Umbridge cleared her throat loudly and they all looked up.
"I think you are in possession of all the facts now. I was thinking we could have a small debate for our last class. I think it appropriate for you to think things over during the holidays." She went up to the board and waved her wand at it. It began writing on its own.
"The topic of the day will be the events of last summer and the manipulation of the facts. Can anyone remind us of what transpired last year at Hogwarts ?"
The class stayed silent. Seamus was looking ready to jump up and strangle Umbridge. Him and Harry had made up. They had sat silently and were both in agreement that they behaved poorly and apologized to each other. Seamus had been listening to Harry's side of the story and had admitted that it did made more sense than what the Ministry was saying.
"No one ?" Umbridge asked again. She then pretended to pout like a little girl and began.
"Very well. I will be telling the story. Last year, a dreadful accident occurred. A young boy died. Cedric Diggory, a real tragedy." She pretended to brush away a tear. Harry began to feel his blood boil again. He tried to keep calm. He even started the breathing exercises Osborn had taught him. He usually only had to use them at the end of Umbridge's class. This could not be good.
"This accident" Umbridge continued. "This accident, was used by ill intent persons to claim the return of a certain Dark Lord from the dead. Now I realize many of you would have been moved by the event, and were prone to believe everything that was said at the time. Do you really believe those lies still ? Raise your hand if you do." The class did not react, but Harry felt the urge to curse the toad of a woman were she stood.
"I thought as much" She said smiling. "I guess the book I gave you made you open your eyes to the truth. Even those who were instigators of the lie. Isn't this right Mr Potter ?" She said looking at Harry. The whole class was staring at him now. Harry did not answer. To be honest, he didn't know how he could answer without shouting or cursing her. Apparently, being silent was not the answer Umbridge expected because her smile faltered.
"You don't want to answer me Mr Potter ? Have you finally realized that you are not as special as you once believed ? Have you realized that your celebrity is based on a lie ? Or are you saddened by the fact that no one pays attention to you anymore? Or even that your parents.."
Harry never heard the end of that sentenced because his scar suddenly began to hurt. It was like his skull was splitting in two. He could not see or hear anything other than the cold, high pitch laugh of Voldemort, apparently very amused by something. The laugh began to fade away, and slowly, Harry came back.
"Potter. Get up this instant." Umbridge was saying. She was standing over him. When Harry opened his eyes, she smiled once more.
"Detention Mr Potter. Maybe it will make you understand that you are nothing and no one, and that your attention-seeking behavior is not something I allow in my classroom."
Harry saw red. He felt incredibly tired. Ron helped him back on his feet and he grabbed his bag pack and left the classroom. He began running. He did not know where to go. He just wanted everything to be over. He was just a boy, a fifteen year old boy. How could he defeat Voldemort when hundreds of people tried and failed. He wanted to talk to Sirius, Sirius would tell him everything was going to be okay. But he couldn't talk to Sirius. Umbridge was watching the owls. He was all alone. Come to think of it he had always been alone. No one had ever cared for him. Maybe that was why he was so important. If he died, nobody would miss him, nobody would care. Ron and Hermione would be sad of course but they would get over it. His run brought him to the grounds in front of Hagrid's cabin, still empty. Harry sat on the stairs and tried to regain composure. The cold was making his fingers go numb but he did not care. The cold never really bothered him, he had spent too many nights outdoors at the Dursley to care if he was cold.
After a while he decided to go back to the castle. He did not want to worry Ron and Hermione. They would be looking for him. Harry wanted to cherish those moments with friends. He probably would not live long enough to finish Hogwarts anyway, he just had to cherish the moments he had while he still could. Harry had always known he was going to die young since he had joined the Wizarding World. It took time for the realization to sink in, but today it had. He had finally understood he was not going to grow old and die peacefully. He had been marked as a baby, and he would die as a boy. That was clear to him now. And it was okay. The quicker he would die, the quicker all that pain he felt will go away. That's what he was going to do. He was going to die and take Voldemort with him. That way, nobody else had to die and he would be the hero the Wizarding World wanted.
When Harry arrived, Hermione hugged him tightly.
"We were so worried about you Harry. That woman really has no right to say what she says. Was it You-Know-Who again ?" She asked him
"What's going on with him ?" Ron asked him.
Harry smiled slightly.
"Nothing much. I don't really see anything. It's just flashes of white and him laughing. He must be really happy about something." He then turned to his plate and began eating. He would need strength to face Umbridge tonight. At the thought he turned to the staff table. He could have sworn he saw Snape nodding at him.
At seven sharp he was standing in front of Umbridge's office. He knocked and enter, she barely even looked at him and he began writing his lines again. This time, she made him write until midnight. His hand was swollen, red and blood began staining the page. When she told him he could go, he left without a word and put on his Invisibility Cloak to walk back to the Tower. As he entered the corridor where he had hidden from Snape, he thought back to the nod he had given him. Snape did tell him to come and see him if Umbridge made him use the quill again. Too tired to think, he began walking towards the dungeons. He knocked on the office door and was not surprise when he heard Snape barking "Enter". Only the dungeon bat would stay up this late. Harry entered with the cloak and closed the door. Snape was working at his desk and looked up. He couldn't see Harry of course but he began roaming through his shelfs and put the essence on the desk. Harry finally let go of the cloak and sat to put his hand in the bowl. He felt immensely tired. Snape did not even talk to him, he kept on working. The silence was soothing somehow. Harry could only hear the faint sound of a quill on paper. His head began falling, and he was quickly asleep on Snape's desk.
Harry was slithering on the floor.
His body felt smooth, powerful, and flexible. He was gliding be- tween shining metal bars, across dark, cold stone. . . . He was flat against the floor, sliding along on his belly. . . . It was dark, yet he could see objects around him shimmering in strange, vibrant colors. . . . He was turning his head. . . . At first glance, the corridor was empty . . . but no . . . a man was sitting on the floor ahead, his chin drooping onto his chest, his outline gleaming in the dark. . . . Harry put out his tongue. . . . He tasted the man's scent on the air. . . . He was alive but drowsing . . . sitting in front of a door at the end of the corridor . . . Harry longed to bite the man . . . but he must master the impulse. . . . He had more important work to do. . . .
But the man was stirring . . . a silvery cloak fell from his legs as he jumped to his feet; and Harry saw his vibrant, blurred outline tower- ing above him, saw a wand withdrawn from a belt. . . . He had no choice. . . . He reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times, plunging his fangs deeply into the man's flesh, feeling his ribs splinter beneath his jaws, feeling the warm gush of blood. . . .
The man was yelling in pain . . . then he fell silent. . . . He slumped backward against the wall. . . . Blood was splattering onto the floor. . . .
"Potter... Potter answer me this instant !" Snape was shaking him awake. Harry felt cold sweat on his forehead. His scar hurt. He needed to tell Snape.
"Mr Weasley. He's been attacked... You have to believe me" Harry was trying to master his breathing. He needed Snape to understand. To his relief, Snape appeared to understand. He grabbed Harry by the arm, making the blanket covering his shoulder fall to the floor. That was strange, he did not remember having a blanket. Snape threw some Floo Powder in the fireplace and yelled "Headmaster's office!"
They both stumbled as they left the fireplace. Dumbledore stared at Snape as Harry began telling the story. Dumbledore simply nodded, careful not to look directly into Harry's eyes. He called the portraits to life and instructed them to go and find Arthur Weasley. He then called McGonagall, telling her to warn the Weasley children. They all quickly arrived by floo. All looking intensely worried. Dumbledore made them all floo to Headquarters, and they were greeted by a tearing Mrs Weasley. She quickly embraced her children and told them not to worry. Mr Weasley had apparently been found in time, thanks to Harry and they were all waiting to go and visit him at St Mungo's.
"Harry dear, how can we even begin to thank you" Mrs Weasley told him, hugging him tightly. She was crying, relieved to know that her husband was going to be all right.
They all went to see Mr Weasley at St Mungo's the next day. He was a bit paler than usual, but over all seemed all right. He would be discharged in time for Christmas.
Christmas at Grimmauld Place made Sirius happy. He was obviously thrilled to have so many people around him. It made a nice change from staying alone in the house. The festivities almost made Harry forget his nightmares. But the holidays were passing way too fast for his liking. Snape came along a few days before the start of term to inform Harry that he was going to be learning Occlumency from him. A subject that apparently was going to allow him to stop Voldemort from invading his mind. Harry did not know how to feel about this. On the one hand, being able to cast Voldemort away was something he was looking forward to, on the other hand, Snape was not his favorite person. Although he had been rather civil with him lately.
"Well you'll just have to wait and see Harry. And I think it is very important for you to learn this." Hermione had told him. Harry tended to agree with her. He would just have to trust Snape. This would not be easy.
A/N: I borrowed the part about the Snake's attack directly from the book. I could not find a more effective way to describe it. As always, read and review!