The Prince-Who-Lived

Chapter Thirty-One

"Is it that unsurprising it was the twins who taught me?"

"Yes." Harry reassured Neville, staring absently at the canopy over his bed in their dorm. "They come up with the weirdest things. Why'd you use it in front of Umbridge?"

Neville just shrugged, lying back in his bed. "Because I could? It's not that dangerous. It's only a bunch of sparks, and it's a part of the spell that they can't set anything a-light. They're using it for their magical fireworks line."

"Magical fireworks … they really are trying to outdo Zonko's, aren't they?"

"Yeah. They don't talk about it much with anyone else."

"They seem to do so with you." Harry fished.

Neville snorted. "I listen. They think I don't when I'm playing chess with Connor or Ron, but I do and I have good ears."

"Is that why you always lose to Ron?" Harry asked, feeling his eyes begin to slip shut. Neville's quiet laugh suggested he felt about the same.

"No." He yawned. "Ron's just that damn good. I've stopped trying half the time because it makes such a good chance to eavesdrop and I don't really lose any more than I would otherwise."

IIII

The next morning was as grey and wet as the previous one. Classes to come were Charms and Transfiguration. Neither was all that exciting. Umbridge had apparently chosen to investigate one class for each week, starting with Defence. It came as no surprise to anyone. It did, however, mean that most of the O.W.L. lectures were unmitigated, and both Charms and transfiguration were both quite firm on their insistence that they study thoroughly. The review of the summoning charm was mildly boring – Harry had accomplished that quite well three years before, and Neville was just as bored – but Vanishing spells proved to be escaping Harry's grasp the entire lesson. He finally managed it at the very end due to Neville's coaching after he'd finished his within twenty minutes. Hermione worked with Ron, and reassured him he'd be able to finish the vanishing next time – he'd managed to get rid of the shell, but the poor snail now resembled half a slug.

Lunch was spent tackling that day's homework. While Harry, Neville and Hermione did not really need to practice vanishing spells, the Charms work was plenty to occupy them in the mean time. Ron did the work as well, but occasionally he would move his finger in mimicry of the vanishing spell motions, mouthing the words, much to Neville's discomfort as he was sitting across from him. Much snickering accompanied the work, interspersed with Hermione snapping at them to focus, and then debating a point with Neville, much to Harry and Ron's benefit.

After lunch, it was Bowtruckles in Care of Magical Creatures. Professor Grubbly-Plank was surprised to see Harry's hand beat Hermione's into the air as he gave the accurate answers about them to her, and then it was the challenge of keeping Ron from trying to go after Draco. Blaise gave a small amount of aid in taking the space between Ron and Draco, and turning a deaf ear to Ron's hissing anger. Harry dragged him back with him to his own space and easily held the bowtruckle while the others drew it, taking his own turn and quietly reminding Hermione on how best to hold it for him. For magical creatures, Hermione listened to Harry's experience.

Care led into Herbology, which was another O.W.L. lecture and essay, and thus Harry led Hermione, Neville and Ron up to the library to work on it after dinner. It was fairly easy for Harry to finish.

Wednesday came about with Arithmancy with Hufflepuff first, and several equations to work on. After class Susan and Hannah tailed them to the courtyard where Ron met them with a brilliant blush. Harry wasn't faring much better.

"Ron!" Hannah gushed. She gave him a brilliant smile, which didn't help the red colour of his face, and ran over to awkwardly shake his hand. She then turned back and coloured upon seeing Susan's raised eyebrow. She immediately dropped Ron's hand, stepped away from him a bit and turned back to talking to Harry. "Ernie is firmly in agreement with you, Harry, in supporting Dumbledore."

The phrase made Harry's insides squirm. He did not support Dumbledore; he didn't trust the man in the least. But in order to support Alan right now, he needed the façade of Dumbledore's stance to keep him on the side he wanted to be. It still didn't sit right with him to try and deny his father and let everyone know that it was Alan who held his allegiance. The thought convinced him he was not going to be eating lunch today; he was not feeling well at all. He merely nodded to Hannah's insistence and smiled. "That's excellent Hannah. Thank him for me."

Susan spoke next. "Kevin said that he caught Theodore on the way out, and expressed that he believed what Alan and Dumbledore were saying. He was a little scared, though, as when he stopped Theodore, a whole bunch of the Slytherins stopped and stared at him as well. He said Theodore seemed to appreciate his saying that, though, and thanked him before excusing himself."

"It was probably defensive of them." Harry shrugged, knowing full well it was. Alan had called them mother hens, once, in irritation. It sounded like an old complaint. "The houses have never exactly been supportive of Slytherin."

"They haven't." Susan allowed. "It's … really rather silly, you know?"

"Isn't it just?" Harry offered quietly. It made something tighten to hear her say something he'd wished for years he had the courage to say. Susan smiled back for a long moment, and Harry almost wondered where the cotton that filled his head had come from before someone loudly cleared their throat behind him. He blinked, and then jumped when the bell rang. Susan was a brilliant red, and Harry swallowed and shrugged before he left quickly in the direction of Transfiguration. He didn't even look before he threw a rude gesture over his shoulder at Neville. He ignored Hermione's angry hiss, and the soft laughter Neville allowed.

Transfiguration went fine, but lunch was filled with another trip to finish off homework in the library. Harry got to hear a bit more of Neville's creative cursing as even he slogged through all the work they were given with a bit of difficulty. It wasn't often Neville struggled on homework. Once more, however, Neville and Hermione's discussions were a blessing to Harry and Ron as they listened raptly, and gleaned what was needed from them.

After lunch was Herbology, with finished homework being exchanged for more homework in turn, followed by Care of Magical Creatures and supper. At the end of the day they had more homework than Harry ever wanted to see piled up ever again. He wasn't sure he wanted to add Quidditch practice to it, but, sighing, saw no way out of it. There wasn't a chance in Hell he'd give up Quidditch. He supposed it just meant that getting together with Alan was going to be a challenge and a half.

He perked up when Neville came back from prefect duties with a small note that Blaise had given him. Alan asked about whether he'd be able to find his way to the Chamber Sunday afternoon. Harry thought about his work and schedule, and then nodded slowly to himself, and to Neville as well who was watching for his reaction. Neville easily subsided into the piled homework with Harry once that was cleared.

IIII

Sunday couldn't come soon enough. Friday was the token Keeper tryouts. Only one other did as well as Ron, and she was more interested in Charms Club than Quidditch, so Ron quite proudly took to the spot and to practice. Some of Draco's group tried to occupy the stands and throw taunts, but hadn't counted on being ousted by a doubled up group of prefects from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff not far into it. Since they'd been threatened by 'off-target' quaffles several times, it didn't take much convincing. Hannah and Ernie had been only too happy to help. Ron's enthusiastic wave to them made him miss the quaffle.

Sunday afternoon had Harry and Neville finishing their required homework hours before, and moving straight to the Chamber after lunch. They arrived before Blaise and Alan, and Harry pulled out the book in question and sat Neville down immediately.

"What is it with this incantation?"

Neville sighed, and huffed. "You're supposed to finish the meditation first, you know."

"Doesn't mean I can't learn theory. What's with it?"

Neville shook his head and leaned over to explain. "It's a basically aimless self-transfiguration in and of itself. Saying it without the meditation would be ugly. Once you've meditated, you say it and it draws upon the concept you'll have built with the trance to complete the change. You need to stay in form for at least an hour to let it settle, and then you can change back and forth at will as it will have settled into your mind as a basically silent, wandless spell that merely needs a direct thought to trigger it."

"So I can memorize it without having completed the trance, I just shouldn't say it without having done so?"

Neville rolled his eyes. "If you want to put it that way, yes, technically you can. But really, I'd rather you didn't so you don't make a mistake or something. It's a wandless spell, so even speaking it out loud could trigger if you're focused enough on it, hence why they tell you to not memorize it without the trance having been completed. Hell, you could activate it just by thinking too damn hard."

Harry rolled his eyes and let Neville pull the book away with a sour expression. He watched him mouth the words as he looked it over; Neville was at that stage of the transformation. Harry hadn't found the time for the trance yet. Alan had reportedly finished his transformation entirely, but hadn't shown them it yet. Blaise was apparently at the same stage as Neville, and wanting the book, which was why they were meeting. Harry felt a faint twinge that Daphne wasn't coming, but it scattered when he had a quiet thought of Susan's long plait.

Harry paused and wondered what kind of airhead he was turning into that he was thinking of girls like that.

Alan's arrival saved him from further headaches as he smiled at him. Blaise frowned back, which made him laugh, but Alan just shook his head quietly and took his usual seat, at the head of the table, Harry to his right, with Neville to his right, and Blaise to his left, and apparently grouchy about it. When placed with only the Slytherins, Blaise took Alan's right. He did not like the insinuation that Harry was more trusted than him. Harry's small smile whenever he glared at him didn't help matters any. Alan finally sighed.

"Enough, both of you. I'm tired of that; it's old."

Harry laughed, and Blaise affected a hurt look for only a moment before apparently remembering that Harry and Neville were there and abandoning it. Neville gave him a small, meaningless polite smile before sliding the book over and nodding to Alan before walking away from the table a distance. Alan stood and leaned against the table to watch with the others. Neville merely closed his eyes, and mouthed silent words for several long moments. Harry saw watched, stunned, as Neville melted into colour, blurred, and then solidified in moments, settling into a fine dun stallion, with the particular specifics of an Arabian. Neville tossed his head and whickered happily, stomping his feet.

"That … was … wicked." Harry offered.

Alan was watching with a small smile, and then Neville tossed his head and suddenly bolted towards the door, skidding to a stop just before it and turning and running the length of the room, hooves pounding sharply against the stone. It was magnificent to see, and behind Harry he heard a soft, "Oh, Merlin."

Harry doubted Blaise would ever normally say that about Neville, and made a point to remember it for future blackmail.

Neville finished the length and pranced back proudly before walked straight over to Alan and nudging his shoulder. Alan laughed, "What, are you looking for, a carrot?"

"No," Harry offered, "he's probably looking for the same thing I am. What on earth does your Animagus look like? How'd you find the time and incantation anyways?"

"Simple." Alan brushed it off. "I asked my dad. Didn't tell him where I'd found it first, but I told him I was finishing it off and he assumed I got it from Geoffrey and found me a book to finish it off with. Different book, but the same method." Neville head butted him again and Alan rolled his eyes. "Fine, alright already."

Neville stepped backwards and whinnied again in victory as Alan frowned playfully and then melted into a small dark cat, with large ears, a tufted tail, and spots. Harry couldn't help but laugh quietly, but that turned into a shriek as Alan jumped on him and clawed his way up Harry's robe to end up on his shoulder. Harry cursed and laughed.

"Alan, you're such a pain in the neck."

Alan took the comment as an opening and gently extended his claws to prick Harry's neck. Harry quickly back-pedalled.

"No need to prove it, damn it all! Hey, Neville, since you're stuck like that for an hour, can I catch a ride?"

Neville tossed his head and minced in place for a moment before he nodded. Harry grinned and stroked Alan before he then tackled the problem of how he was supposed to mount a horse bareback. He'd never done much horseback riding. In fact, it had probably amounted to only two or three times in his life. Fortunately he remembered something of it, and managed to guess his way into holding on as Neville simply walked around the room, trotting and nearly knocking Harry off several times. Blaise watched with a shake of his head, buried in his reading.

By the end of the hour, Alan had kicked Harry off partway through and tried riding on his own. He was quite a bit better, owing to having pestered an uncle into actual lessons, but Neville actually managed to knock him off partway along. He seemed to find it an amusing game. Alan was fine, but treated them to some very creative cursing. He'd managed to hold on enough to slide off rather than fall off, but the result was the same. Neville was inordinately pleased with himself.

Alan came back to the table and grouched, "We need to get that brat some tack so we can ride properly."

A snort came from behind him, and then he paled and skipped aside as Neville sent a kick past his side. Harry gave a shaky laugh.

"I don't think he likes the idea. Although it is practical."

Blaise snorted across the table. "Alan, if you even consider that with me, I will not speak to you."

Harry perked. "I never heard what your Animagus was."

Blaise ducked his head back to looking at the book, scratching his cheek gently. It was clearly evasive. Alan cleared his throat, and Blaise finally spoke up, "I'm a Shetland pony."

Harry smiled and nodded. "No wonder you're so antsy about Neville. You're both arrogant pureblooded horse breeds. That's a recipe for disaster."

"You mean them both being pureblood isn't recipe enough?" Alan drawled. Harry snorted, and then they heard Neville trot over once more and very suddenly blurred back into being himself beside the table. He yawned and stretched. Harry felt once again annoyed – Neville had continued to grow, and was now seven cms taller than him. This was, of course, ignoring the fact that Alan was now of a height with Neville as well and not done growing, and that Blaise was currently the tallest of them as well. Being the shortest of his male friends did not please Harry, but he stuck with it and just sighed.

"I suppose it would be, wouldn't it?"

"Of course that isn't the reason for our argument." Neville laughed. "We're just both smart, skilled, good-looking young men and both of us think we're the best and just have to prove it."

Harry put his head into his hands. "I've never bothered competing with you Neville. Your head's big enough."

"Of course it is." Alan agreed. Neville just laughed quietly and then watched as Blaise stepped back from the table and spoke the incantation. His form blurred and a small black Shetland pony stood where he previously had. Neville smiled.

"Well done, Blaise!" He clapped shortly, and then grinned. "But I can still outrun you."

Blaise shook his head and trotted primly off to circle the room, ignoring Neville's comment. Alan watched him go with a warm smile, and turned back to Harry. "You complained you haven't done your trance yet?" Harry shook his head quietly. "You think it'll take a while?"

"Yeah." Harry sighed. "I should probably find a Saturday for it, and then just transform Sunday. It doesn't say you can't do it immediately thereafter." Harry flipped through the book idly. "So it should work fine. I can learn the incantation easy, I've already gone over it."

"Harry, the incantation without the trance is dangerous." Alan cautioned.

Harry slammed the book shut. "I know! Alright? Neville already lectured me on it. I just want this finished, even if I'm some freak of nature without being natural."

Alan blinked quietly, and sat down beside him with a wry smile. "Hey, the Animagus isn't unnatural no matter what it ends up being. You said Sirius was non-standard –"

"I don't want to be anything like my father or his damn friends." Harry growled.

Alan bit his lip. Harry could see it, knew he was being unreasonable, didn't know why, and didn't give a damn. On his other side, Neville was sitting with a frown between his eyes, a cautious look on his face. He didn't expect Blaise to bite his elbow, and yelped as it connected.

"Dammit Blaise! Let me go!" Harry growled. He didn't fight, though, as Blaise had a firm grip on his elbow with his surprisingly sharp horse teeth. Blaise let go and then tossed his head, standing sideways to the table. Harry didn't catch it, but Neville clued him in with a sardonic comment.

"Trying to get him to ride you? I never thought you'd play beast of burden."

Blaise kicked Neville's chair hard enough to knock it back a pace. Neville shut up. Harry turned firmly away.

"I don't want to ride, Blaise." He tried to slump onto the table, but stopped with a scream as Blaise bit him hard. Harry turned on the Slytherin with a foul burst of vocabulary, and was met once again with an implacable eye and an invitation to ride. Harry growled, "Are you not going to leave me alone until I do get on?"

Blaise firmly nodded. It was so funny Harry felt his lips curl unwillingly. "Fine." Blaise was insisting on being ridden. He'd thought Blaise wouldn't let anyone even try. Talk about a day of firsts for the pureblood.

It was easier to mount Blaise's back than Neville's, as Blaise was a much shorter horse. It felt different as well, mostly in the difference of build between the smaller, hardier Shetland and the taller, leaner Arabian. He wondered passingly how he might have horse hair stuck to his pants and his chances of explaining it away, but then Blaise set off for the far wall at a firm trot and Harry focused more on trying to figure out how to ride comfortably while bareback – the pace was completely different from Neville's. Partway along, he noticed his arm was still stinging where Blaise had bitten him, and took the chance to examine it. He found to his surprise that the bite had drawn blood.

"Thanks Blaise." Harry drawled. "I always wanted to explain how I managed to get bitten by a horse while at Hogwarts."

Blaise made a soft wicker and rolled his back before moving into a quick gallop back to the others, Harry holding determinedly onto his back. Blaise slowed as he approached, and then, once alongside, made an awkward jump that dislodged Harry from his back and dropped him onto his backside. Harry swore, and Blaise took off running. Alan laughed quietly over Harry's irritation, and then looked at him cautiously.

"Feel better?"

"If you mean, did riding Blaise take my mind off being a self-pitying jackass, then yes."

Alan paused and then nodded firmly. "Good to hear."

Harry gave him a rude gesture in return.

IIII

At the end of Blaise's hour, they were all mostly talked out and pleased with everything. Harry had agreed to slot his transformation for the next week, using that weekend for the trance and the incantation, if he were ready for it. Alan still wanted to acquire two sets of tack, and had warned both associates. Blaise and Alan were still arguing when they headed up the stairs of the tunnel and out. Neville and Harry waited several minutes, and then left themselves, Harry arguing the benefits to Neville. Finally, he acquiesced.

"Fine, you can get it for me if, and only if, you talk our parents into getting us both horseback riding lessons."

"Why do you need the lessons, Neville?" Harry wondered, confused. "You're the horse!"

Neville snorted. "I need to know what each signal means, so since I can't bloody talk we can still figure out what's going on. And having it silent would be very beneficial, especially with how dark I am. Good for hiding."

Harry turned back to the sink and closed it, turning to give Neville a wry grin. "Always glad to hear the Slytherin at work."

"I echo the sentiment." Neville shot. His gaze was calculating, but Harry merely smiled and winked at him, unoffended. He liked being called a Slytherin now, and quickly he pulled the door open and bowed Neville out. He followed, and walked into him where Neville had halted. A glance up, although it was actually shorter than him, stopped his breath. Umbridge was standing with a triumphant expression on her face, holding firmly to the arms of a furious Alan and Blaise. She let go and clasped her hands before her.

"I wonder what two upstanding young men, and a prefect at that, were doing wandering a girl's bathroom, hm?"

Harry paused, and then shrugged awkwardly, walking to stand beside Neville rather than behind him. "I'm sorry Madam Umbridge, but no girls use it anyways and ever since second year, Myrtle has been stalking me if I don't visit her every once in a while. I felt it better to attend to her rather than have her showing up at inopportune times. Neville just tagged along."

"Boys still should not be in the girl's bathrooms. I think three nights detention would remind you. You can serve it at the same time as these two." She indicated Alan and Blaise with a glittering hand. "You seem to be all in the same boat." She gave them a questioning look, and then smiled thinly. "You haven't been getting into things you shouldn't, have you Mr. Potter? You were the one who opened the Chamber before, were you not?"

"That was Voldemort, actually, that year." Harry said the name with relish at her squeak. "I just got Ginny out."

He knew it was a mistake even as he'd opened his mouth, but he squashed his anger at himself immediately thereafter and just resolved to take the punishment he knew would be coming. He would not debase himself and lie to suit her self-delusion.

She almost seemed to swell with indignation. "And do you boys also believe that? Mr. Longbottom?" She fixed Neville with a beady eye, and found him looking almost bored.

"Well, Ginny wasn't anywhere else, someone had supposedly been taken down there, the chamber opened at parseltongue and the claims were that of the Heir of Slytherin. I know Harry isn't so deluded as to do anything quite that stupid, so what else should I believe? It was Voldemort." His voice trembled on the last note, but he spoke it determinedly.

Harry felt inordinately proud of Neville right then. He rarely used Voldemort's actual name, well, self-proclaimed title, without mocking it.

Umbridge seemed at a temporary loss before she finally straightened and announced. "You will each be in detention with me every night this week. All of you, together. Five o'clock sharp. I will accept no excuses." She turned and left back to the entrance hall, looking nervously over her shoulder as she did so. She turned hurriedly back and continued along, leaving them alone in the corridor, glaring at the end of the hall. Harry sighed, and blandly spoke up,

"What did she get you for?"

"Rudely running into her." Alan returned in the same bland tone. "And then she told me I could always come speak to her, and where had I been that I hadn't, don't I want justice for my injuries? I broke and told her that she wouldn't do anything about Voldemort anyways, as she was thoroughly deluded and she gave me detention. Blaise argued; she gave him detention for back talk and then you two walked out of the bathroom. Nice argument." He gave a short nod, and then swiftly both Blaise and Alan turned and walked back down to the dungeons. Harry looked at Neville and went to climb to the common room. They both sighed.

"Neville?" Harry asked. Neville gave him a querying noise but kept walking. "Are you sorry about me getting us both in detention?"

"No." Neville answered. He sounded completely sure of himself. "She needed someone to look her in the face and tell her to fuck off. Better us than someone else. We're in this war, no matter what. And with her against us, it makes her someone to be brought down. Ron would agree with me."

Harry smiled weakly and chuckled. "I suppose so. What do you think she'll have us do?"

"Whatever it is, she's got to have some kind of twist to make things horrible or something. She almost seemed pleased to get us in for something"

Harry grimaced. "Wonderful."

"Yeah …"

Harry let it go and opened the door to the common room. He felt there was something that did not bode well for the next week …

Coming into the common room, however, they were met with a grim-faced Ron who immediately took them up to their dorm. Hermione was waiting on Neville's bed with a furious expression. In her hands was a letter. Ron answered their curious looks, as Neville sat beside Hermione, his hand on her knee as he looked over the paper.

"It's a letter from Percy. That horrible git doesn't believe Dumbledore. Says that Dumbledore must have Alan lying about what happened. He's been like that ever since Fudge picked him up from under Templar; especially since Templar became a member of the Order."

"Does he think Dumbledore would have anyone torture someone else?" Harry growled.

Ron's face darkened. "No, he thinks Alan is lying about being injured. He –he wasn't there, at the third task. He didn't see Alan covered in blood, and he won't believe any of us when we tell him about that."

Harry's eyes darkened as he thought about when he'd watched Koreol carry Alan up to the castle, Alan's chest covered in blood. He honestly thought that was a memory only matched by when Alan had been dying of basilisk poison. Percy didn't believe in that. Harry hoped for a moment that he would not run into Percy anytime soon; he'd curse the damn bigot. Neville spat a curse, looking up from the letter.

"Ron, your brother is a-" Hermione made a token protest noise at the choice of phrases, but didn't try to stop him speaking, or argue otherwise. That said more about the content of the letter than Neville's reaction. "How can he write that? That, drivel, shit, horse pucky? What kind of idiot does it take to not see what is in front of his nose?"

"Perhaps the kind inclined to marry Umbridge?" Harry dryly commented.

"Oh, don't say that Harry!" Neville cried. "I'll be likely to curse her as soon as I see her tomorrow, and that won't do me any good in getting those damn detentions finished."

"Neville Longbottom!" Hermione shrieked. Harry was amused to see him immediately duck and raise his hands to try and placate her. "What were you doing that you got a detention? You're a prefect!"

"Harry was visiting Myrtle and Umbridge caught us coming out of her loo, alright? And then she insinuated that Harry had opened the Chamber second year, got pissed when Harry told her it was Voldeshins and then didn't like it when I backed him up. So, yeah, we've got detention all next week for 'lying'."

Hermione swelled in fury. Harry could almost see her hair begin to stick up and frizz. He almost felt in awe of her, and easily understood why she and Neville seemed to fit together so well. While she was harder to antagonize than Neville, she could get just as angry as he could when her sense of right and wrong was violated. Harry suspected Umbridge had just done that unforgivable sin. It was a very amusing sight; he was hard pressed to keep a smile off his face, which probably would have prompted her to light into him as well.

"That horrible woman!" Hermione shrieked. "How could she call that a lie? If she says Harry opened it, then Harry petrified his best friends and threatened the life of practically his little sister! Harry isn't evil or mean or cruel, and if she can say that, I hope she rots in Hell! That's despicable, she should be thrown out on her ear! I can't stand people like that! It's evil!"

Neville quickly placed his hand over her mouth for a moment and whispered something in her ear. She immediately calmed down, but her mouth was as thin a line as McGonagall's went when she was offended. Harry had to fight back the urge to laugh. Now that she was calm, Harry sat down on his bed and sighed. "Is anyone willing to help me double-check my Transfiguration essay? I don't want to have McGonagall munch on me."

IIII

The next day was better than had been expected. History of Magic was as much of a bust as they had thought, but it was blessedly Umbridge free. Harry wasn't looking forward to Potions, but he hadn't thought it would be anything troublesome. Unexpectedly, it was worse.

Walking in, Harry felt his mouth twist as he found Alan and his not taking their normal front seats but instead sitting at the far back. A look to the front proved why: Umbridge was talking quietly with a thin-lipped Snape at his desk. Harry pulled the others with him to spots just adjacent to where Alan and his were. Umbridge looked up at them and gave a sickly sweet smile. Harry glowered back and wished the class would move along.

Snape started with a fixed scowl on his face. Most of the rest of the class was already off balance due to the abrupt change in seating of those around them, and quite of few of them were not in favour of Madam Umbridge, much less her effect on the already snarky Potions master. Snape, for once, agreed with his students, but only someone who was looking for it would see it. Harry was looking.

Their papers were returned abruptly, and Harry was mildly shocked to see an E scratched onto the top corner hard enough to tear the paper. Most notably, he'd apparently had marks taken off mainly for the incorrect answer of putting his last name down as 'Potter'. Harry would have been offended had he not understood the very amusing sentiment. He wondered what Snape would do if he signed the next one 'Evans'. Would that get him an O?

"I have awarded you the grade you would receive were you to turn this paper in for your O.W.L. examinations. This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect from your examinations."

If that was the case, Harry felt the O.W.L.s might be marginally easier than they were painted. Marginally, as that essay had been hideous. Neville looked, predictably, disappointed. The brat liked tests. It was abnormal.

"As a general standard, the work I received was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect a great deal more effort on this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detention to those dunce's who get D's."

Draco smirked for several moments before he glanced to his sides. Harry fought down a snicker; most likely Draco would lose his bookends were that to happen. Lavender, in front of Harry, looked pale. Hermione glanced around Harry to see what grades they'd gotten and looked startled at Harry's E. She tilted her own paper to show an A, and Neville smiled. He'd gotten an E as well. Ron looked a bit pale at Hermione's questioning glance before he tilted over a P. Harry shook his head and pulled out a spare parchment, scratching a quick note of 'I'll give you some help with the next one; I've got a good grounding on it, and books' and sending it across the desk. Ron received it with a look of relief, and then squeaked at the sound of a gentle 'hem hem'

The note disappeared into his bag before he noticed she was still at the front of the room. Harry approved, and turned his attention forward. She said something too quiet for him to hear this far back, and then Snape spoke clearly enough for all of them to hear.

"Madam Umbridge, I believe my teaching normally does not allow for unauthorized interruptions from anyone, so while I am, of course, perfectly willing to answer your questions, I do not approve of you asking them in the middle of a class."

"Would you treat the Headmaster this way, Professor Snape?" Mrs. Umbridge twittered.

"Yes, I would resent an interruption even from him and would dearly hope he'd only do so in the most dire of circumstances." Severus finished, before he turned back to the class and instructed them to prepare a strengthening solution. It was almost easy compared to the last assignment, and Harry quickly finished it, ending up pleased with the turquoise colour that was just a tad too blue to be perfect, unlike the almost mirror images of Neville and Hermione's. He rolled his eyes at Neville's smug grin, and simply handed it in, grateful to get out of the class, and feeling a tad bit sorry for Severus and his misfortune of having to deal with Madam Umbridge for however long she remained in his class.

Lunch came about in a happy mood. Harry reassured Ron of his aid, and then smiled at the others and left with Neville for the library. They would have no time in the evenings if Umbridge were as petty as they suspected she was, and needed badly to get to work on the homework. Ron came to them shortly afterwards with Hermione and all of them worked on Snape's essay, throwing tips to Ron at odd times. He was upset that Harry didn't have the book on hand, but subsided when Harry promised to get it to him the next morning – there was no way in Hell he was letting Ron into his trunk. He didn't even usually let Neville in.

His free period was put to use in finishing all the homework he'd had thus far, and double-checking the essay they'd had for Defence. He was looking forward to having class with Geoffrey once more, hopefully without the encumbrance of Madam Umbridge.

IIII

"'Exemplary design for distracting one's opponent and managing small damage as well.'" Neville repeated with a wide grin. Harry finally sighed and turned to swat his friend. Neville yelped, cursed, and then glared at Harry's dry smiling return.

"Stop quoting him, please?"

"Just because you were too chicken to try –"

"Doesn't mean you need to keep rubbing the fact that you did and succeeded in our faces, alright?" Harry finished. He wasn't as angry as he sounded, really, but hearing it three times in a row wasn't leaving him tolerant. "If you're that fucking nervous about detention with Umbridge, just give it a rest, or find something else."

Neville shut up. Harry was surprised he'd actually been right. Both of them settled back into their supper, missing the worried exchange Hermione and Ron had over their heads. It was after Defence class. Geoffrey was expansive and funny as a teacher when not tied down by Umbridge, and he'd spent a large portion of class breaking down the otherwise short duel between himself and Neville and describing the particular benefits and disadvantages of the spells used. Neville had spent most of the class in startled silence at the amount of praise he was receiving. Unfortunately, the silence had not lasted outside of the class, and, as Harry had pointed out, nerves had made it mildly worse. For himself, Harry was beginning to brood about the detention. Neither of them was expecting just a run-of-the-mill detention.

"Harry, it's ten to. She's up a floor, so we'll need the time to walk. Don't want to be late." Neville announced.

Harry sighed and nodded. Gathering his things, he stood and walked to meet Neville at the end of the table, looking up in time to see Blaise and Alan walking out the door. They followed them in silence, finding their way to the office that had been set aside for Madam Umbridge. Blaise and Alan were already waiting by the closed door, but they both gave Harry and Neville brilliant smiles as they approached. Harry felt like smacking them. They were being Slytherin – they were going to make the Gryffindors knock. Harry felt a desire to try and outwait them, to see which one of them would step up first to make sure they weren't late. Fortunately, Neville seemed the notice the standoff and stepped forward, knocking quietly.

A sugary, "Come in," floated out, and Neville looked back at the others with a strained expression, opening the door and holding it with a raised eyebrow. Harry paused for a second, before he walked in with a frown, and stepped to one side of the door just inside, feeling nauseous. Neville did the same; in fact, his expression of disgust was identical as well. Harry had never seen this many doilies in his life. He couldn't think of any doilies his own mother used offhand, but this … this was undoubtedly too damn much.

"Good evening, children."

Harry's attention moved to the overwhelming floral decoration in the middle of the room and realized with a start that it was Ms. Umbridge standing there. She'd blended into the tablecloth behind her as she was wearing a robe in a similarly lurid floral design. None of them vocally responded; instead, as one, they all stiffened in place. Harry knew he definitely did not like being addressed like a child.

She frowned. "When I address you with 'good evening' you are expected to respond back. Now, let's try that again. Good evening, children."

Harry wondered if she'd ever tormented other children with her presence. He really couldn't manage to figure out how to respond to her without digging himself deeper than if he didn't open his mouth at all. An incoherent murmur came from Blaise, but none of the others tried to speak.

Madam Umbridge swelled again; Harry found an irreverent wish that she would explode, but all she did was smile with a painfully sweet expression and announce, "Twenty points from each of you, and you'll have a special detention Saturday. Shall I make it one more, or … 'Good evening, children.'"

'She's like a dog with a damn bone,' Harry irreverently thought, and then, imagining pleasantly that she was drowning in one of Snape's nastier concoctions, managed a strained, "Good evening, madam." Beside him, Neville managed about the same amount of sincerity. Alan's sounded genuine, and Harry made a point to ask him how on earth he'd managed it as Blaise sounded formally polite.

"Much better." She smiled sweet enough to rot your brain, and then indicated the four desks around her. "Well then, if you'll just sit down we can get started on your detention. Oh, and no no no." She stopped them when they moved towards the desks, and smiled warmly. "I have special seats in mind for each of you. Mr. Potter, here," She indicated the seat to the right of her desk, "And Mr. Prince, here." It was the seat opposite Harry's, on the other side of her desk. "Mr. Longbottom beside Mr. Prince, and Mr. Zabini, beside Mr. Potter. Thank you."

Blaise sat at the indicated desk quietly. He seemed to be treating this as a pureblood reception, and was exhibiting typical pureblood manners. Harry fought to copy him, but wasn't having as much success as even Neville managed. Alan simply appeared emotionless as he sat down.

Once they were all settled, she set a black, wickedly sharp quill above each of their parchments. Harry eyed his with trepidation. He knew he should know what that quill was, but it was escaping him at the moment with a thread of disbelief. Alan's startled expression wasn't helping matters any.

"You'll each use my quill to write your lines." She ordered. "Three of you will be writing, 'I must not tell lies'. Mr. Zabini, you will write, 'I must not defy authority'."

Neville was the one to challenge her, but he managed to sound politely inquisitive. It was a dangerous sound from him. It meant he suspected something. "How many times?"

"Oh, however long it takes for the message to sink in."

The quill placed itself with a sharp pang of fear. It was a Blood Quill. It use was controlled. It could be used to sign contracts that required the people be magically bound to hold the terms. While using it for lines wouldn't bind anything, it was effectively torture, and potentially could do permanent harm. With how she'd phrased that, she was hoping for it.

Harry didn't know what to do. He did not want to do this, but could he fight Umbridge on her own turf? He could just get himself in trouble if he didn't have enough clout to fight her and win, and he didn't want to deal with that. He wanted to stay in the school.

If he wouldn't fight and risk it, then he had to write. Beside him, Blaise was already dutifully scratching out lines, his face impassive as red words etched themselves onto the back of his hand as he kept writing.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked up at Madam Umbridge. Behind her, he could see that Neville and Alan were watching him intently. Harry smiled a sugary sweet smile at Madam Umbridge and wished upon her a painful death as he said, "Just wondering why you're intent on torturing me is all, but I answered my own question and will get to work immediately."

He picked up the quill and looked away from her without another word. Even the loss of ten more points didn't faze him. He couldn't write if he couldn't have at least one real reason for the punishment.

I must not tell lies

It was an eerie feeling to cut the words into the back of his hand and to see the ink gleaming black in the light in her office, as the clock ticked loudly and consistently for hours. It was almost absurd to be writing lines in his own blood while numerous fluffy, Technicolor kittens gambolled innocently upon ceramic plates. Harry began to just plan how to get the twins to destroy her office when finally he heard her stand up from her desk again. He'd wished each time she stood that she would announce the torture was over – he didn't want to take notes tomorrow at all – but she hadn't yet. He still, however, hoped …

"There now. Let's see your hands." She asked. Harry gratefully dropped the quill and held his out towards her with a mutinous expression he could not control. Even Blaise looked pained. She looked over them, and tutted quietly.

"Not much of an impression on any of you, I fear. Well," She grinned pleasantly. "I'll still be seeing you tomorrow night, won't I? You may go."

Harry quickly grabbed his things and moved out of the office. Once he was past the door, he didn't pause but simply ran down the hall. Neville hollered something behind him, but he didn't stop, didn't pause, and headed downstairs and out a side passage that was almost unknown. Once out in the night air, he hit the lawn running hard. Behind him, the door slammed, and then suddenly Neville was beside him, in his Animagus form, tossing his head and whickering loudly. Harry simply shook his head and went to the broom shed, rattling the locked doors. He kept his firebolt there for convenience, but had forgotten that the locks used this late at night were stronger than they were in the day. He was surprised when the door sprang open.

"Ah, that's what you need."

Harry jumped, looking back to see Neville standing quietly behind him, human once more, his face open with understanding. Harry nodded without words, and quickly pulled out his broom, mounting it without a second thought and launching into the night air. He needed to forget, to move on. Umbridge was a horrible, evil woman, and he needed past her. The only escape he could imagine right now was to fly.

A/N: And we have Evil Umbridge. Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

Fire & Napalm