Look! Guys! Guys, look! It's a new chapter! A whole new full length actually completely complete chapter! I know it's been forever since the last chapter, but yay! And hopefully (Yes, I know, I say this every chapter) the next chapter will be done quicker, and I hope to focus a bit more on River and Rory because I love them and I feel like I've been neglecting them and focusing more on the other characters. Also, I feel like no one reads these, so to see how many of you read these (and if I should continue putting them in or if they're just kind of a waste of time) everyone who read this answer this question: Would you like to see the Doctor, Amy, Rory, or River try out for the Quidditch team? If you would, please say so and I will make it happen (I think Amy would be a beater, don't you?) Anyway, you're probably all completely bored with my mindless babble at this point anyway, so enjoy your chapter!

River, Rory, Ron, and Harry all sat down at a round table in the divination classroom. The Doctor had Muggle Studies and Amy and Hermione had Ancient Runes.

The four pushed open the trap door that lead to Madame Trelawney's room and were assaulted with the familiar perfume and stuffy feel of the room. The curtains were drawn and the fire crackled merrily in the hearth. They took their seats at a table, and a few minutes later were once again immersed in the dull world of Divination.

YesIKnowIShouldn'tDoTheseSceneJumpsButI'mGoingToAnyway,SoHa

"Do you lot realize how much homework they've given us?" Ron exclaimed as the group strode down the hallway. "Binns set us a foot and a half long essay on giant wars, Snape wants a foot on the use of moonstones, and now we've got a month's dream diary from Trelawney! Fred and George weren't wrong about O.W.L.s year. That Umbridge woman better not give us any…"

When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated art the teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow atop her head that made her look like a large toad with a fly perched on its head.

The class was quiet as it entered the room, for Professor Umbridge's classes were uncharted territory, and her teaching methods unknown.

"Well, good afternoon!" She said when the last student took their place.

A few people mumbled back, "Good Afternoon."

"Tut tut," said Professor Umbridge, "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 in unision.

"There, now." Umbridge said sweetly, "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

The class exchanged looks of gloom and confusion; the order "wands away" had never been followed by a lesson they found interesting. Harry shoved his wand black inside his bag and pulled out quill, ink, and parchment. He glanced to his left and saw that Amy was doing this as slowly as possible, probably giving Umbridge time to change her mind.

Umbridge also saw the stubbornly sluggish movements and cleared her throat. "Today, Miss…"

"Pond." Amy said. "Amy Pond." But she did as she was told. Umbridge opened her handbag and extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

Defense Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" Stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. Year.

"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 courts of defensive magic this year. Copy Dow the following, please."

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:

Course aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic,

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

For a couple of minutes the only sound filling the room was the scratching of quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she said, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

"I think we'll try that again," Professor Umbridge said, "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or 'No, Professor Umbridge."

"Yes Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.

"Good," said Professor Umbridge, "I should like you all to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. He felt his concentration sliding away from him; he had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first five words. In front of him Ron was absentmindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. Harry looked right and received a surprise to shake him out of his torpor. Hermione had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. Instead, she had her hand held straight in the air and was staring intently at Professor Umbridge. Umbridge was attempting to avoid Hermione's gaze, but more and more students were looking up at the famous Hermione Granger with confusion.

Eventually, Umbridge, with a sigh, realized she couldn't continue to ignore Hermione.

"Yes, Miss…?" The professor asked.

"Granger, ma'am, Hermione Granger. I'm sorry, but there's nothing in the book about actually using defensive spells."

"Using spells?" Umbridge asked, "Why would we need to use spells?"

"Well, isn't the whole point of the O. to see if we can perform magic in the real world?" Hermione asked.

"This, Miss Granger, is a classroom. Not the real world." Umbridge said. "Besides, if you study the theory hard enough, I believe you will have enough understanding to pass your exams."

"Yeah, well what good is theory going to do us when we're attacked?" Harry asked.

"Attacked?" Umbridge said in her sickeningly sweet tone. "Who would want to attack you? You're children."

"Um, I don't know?" Harry said with mock confusion. "Maybe… Lord Voldemort?"

A wave of hushed whispers passed through the crowd. Umbridge quickly silenced it.

"Now," she said, beginning to stride through the rows of desks, "I know there have been rumors that a certain dark wizard is back. And I am here to tell you that that is all they are. Rumors and stories."

"Oh," Harry said, "So you're saying Cedric Diggory just dropped dead of his own accord?"

"Harry…." Rory said from behind him in a tone that said to stop, but Harry ignored him.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident." Umbridge said firmly, her smile beginning to slide off her plump face.

"It wasn't an accident, it was murder! I was there, I saw it!" Harry began to protest.

"Enough!" Umbridge raised her voice. "Come here, Potter. Detention."

Harry followed the old toad back to her desk, where the professor sat down, took out a quill, and wrote something down on a piece of parchment. She then sealed it up and handed it to Harry.

"Take this down to Professor McGonagall immediately, as she is your head of house. You will also be coming to this classroom directly after dinner for the rest of the week."

There was a tone of finality to her statement, and a look from Hermione told him to let it be. So, Harry turned, walked out of the door, and began down the hallway. When he was practically directly outside of McGonagall's office, Harry was stopped by a completely unwelcome character.

"Oh! Why it's Potty Wee Potter!" Peeves cried out as he hovered above Harry.

"Leave me alone, Peeves." Harry said, glaring at the ghost.

"Ooh, Crackpot's feeling cranky? I can fix that up real quick, with a small ballot I wrote myself! Eh hem…

Oh, most think he's barking, the Potty wee lad,

But some are more kindly and think he's just sad,

But Peevesy knows better, and he says that he's mad-"

"Shut up!" Harry roared.

"What in Merlin's name is all this noise?" McGonagall said as she emerged from her office. Peeves blew a raspberry and flew off quickly, leaving the two, and turning McGonagall's attention to Harry.

"What is it, Potter?" She asked. Harry held out the parchment.

"Professor Umbridge sent me down, Professor." Harry answered. McGonagall took the parchment and lead him into her office. During that time, she opens the message and sat down at her desk. Harry sat in the seat directly across, as the old professor sighed.

"Is this true?" She asked, looking him dead in the eyes.

"Is what true?" Harry asked.

"Is it true that you disrupted her class?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes." Harry answered.

"You questioned her teaching methods?"

"Well, yeah."

"And you told her that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?"

"Yeah."

McGonagall sighed once more, removing her glasses and massaging the bridge of her nose before looking up.

"Have a biscuit, Potter." She said.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, confused.

"Have a biscuit." She gestured to a platter of biscuits that sat at the far side of her desk. Harry reached for one as McGonagall replaced her glasses.

"Harry." She said, "You must be careful with what you say to Professor Umbridge."

"But-"

"No, listen to me. Professor Umbridge is trying to find anything that will agree with her and Cornelius Fudge's views that you and Professor Dumbledore are mad and Voldemort is back. You are giving her the ammunition she needs to completely interfere at Hogwarts."

"Professor, I-"

"Not now, Potter. Now go back to class. And you will serve your detentions with Professor Umbridge un aggressively, and will respect her in her own classroom."