6/26/14
Hey!
It was close, but I was able to get this up today like I promised, yay! I will have at least one chapter up a week, and more if possible. I am having a lot of fun writing Rose, and lending her my disdain of Delores Umbridge, even though she is my favorite Harry Potter villain.
The next chapter will be Rose's POV, but chapter 6 will be Draco's POV, as promised to a reviewer. I am open to suggestions from reviewers or PMs. I have several ideas but love fresh imaginations too, and besides, reviews make me happy. ;)
I will have the next update up no later than July 3, and I might put one up a day early the next week as a birthday present from me to all of us since I turn 18 next Wednesday.
Thank you everyone who reads my work. I love you, and promise to have a fic up soon for all of us ONCErs out there. (My favorite show and one I've wanted to work with for a wwwwwhhhhhiiiiillllleeeeee...) Captain Swan all the way. My mom is SwanFire. sigh.
TTYL
Sophie.
P.S.
Due to some family trouble I will not be able to get the next chapter up by Thursday, but it, and hopefully the next one too, will be up by the 9th.
Rose POV
The Great Hall was crowded with students both new and returning when I finally made it to my house's table. There was vast empty seat beside Harry that I was seriously considering stealing. The students sitting on the side opposite the void were squished, obviously trying to avoid Harry.
Harry had his gaze locked on Seamus Finnigan, who was on the edge of the gap and glaring at him from time to time. I slid between them, breaking the staring contest and shielding Harry from Finnigan's disdain. I knew that he was one of the people who didn't believe us. His mother worked at the Ministry, and they had been fed the lies spouting from the establishment.
"Hey, are you okay?" I asked Harry, laying my hand on his arm, concern lacing my voice.
"There isn't much you can do for me, Rose." He snapped, turning his attention back to his food. I was taken aback. It was rare for him to snap at people, except Draco; and I had never heard him do it to any of us.
I had filled my plate and started enjoying the feast when our Headmaster took his annual place at the wax covered, owl shaped podium. All of the students, myself included and Harry somewhat reluctantly, turned our attention to the gray haired, wizened old man as the room quickly went silent.
"Good evening, children. Now, we have two changes in staffing this year. We're pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who'll be taking Care of Magical Creatures while Professor Hagrid is on temporary leave." Many students, especially those from Hufflepuff and my house audibly displayed their disappointment.
I habitually scanned the Teacher's Table. Hagrid's massive seat was empty, a new seat placed next to it was taken up by a slight witch with ratty brown hair in a bun under her weather beaten mottled brown hat. Professor McGonagall sat in her usual place between Hagrid's chair and Professor Snape. A smile graced her face as she watched the headmaster. Our black haired Potions Professor stared pointedly at me. I looked away from him to the woman sitting in the Defense Against the Dark Art's Teacher's dark chair.
The plump woman looked out of place and, quite honestly, outrageous. Dressed in a furry, bubblegum pink get up with a rosy crocheted monstrosity of a hat, she looked rather like Pigmy-puff, a small furry animal that Fred and George had started breeding over the summer which happened to often be pink. Her dark hair was strictly curled close to her rectangular face and she held herself as if she were an exceptionally important person and the rest of us were imbeciles who were fortunate to share the room with her. I immediately disliked her.
The headmaster continued. "We also wish to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Delores Umbridge." At that moment, the woman giggled slightly: a high, bubbly sound. "And I'm sure you'll all join me in wishing the professor good luck. Now, as usual, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you..." He was suddenly cut off when Professor Umbridge cleared her throat and lifted a revoltingly pink bag off of the floor by her feet.
The room grew so quiet you could hear a pin drop as everyone sat in shock that the new teacher had so inappropriately broken protocol. One of the principle unspoken rules of the school was that no one - student or staff – ever interrupted the Headmaster when he or she was speaking. That action was considered the pinnacle of disrespect, and her use of it caused me to detest her even more.
As the Headmaster and the rest of the school stared at her in disbelief, the professor rose slowly from her seat, relishing the attention that we were paying her; before sliding out of her seat and sauntering to the edge of the dais. Her bow adorned pink heels thudded annoyingly on the wood as she took the spot in front of the Headmaster's podium that no teacher before her had ever stood.
Harry, recognizing the pink woman, whispered. "She was at my hearing." Hermione and I both turned to look at him. "She works for Fudge."
Professor Umbridge spoke in a high grating voice that set my teeth on edge. It wasn't fair for me to judge the woman before I had even truly met her, but just about everything about her agitated me, and I sensed something off about her. I had a feeling that we hadn't seen most of how she acted yet. "Thank you, headmaster, for those kind words of welcome. And how lovely it is to see all your bright, happy faces smiling up at me." She explained slowly, her voice dripping with condescension as she spoke to us as if we were but mere simpletons. "I'm sure that we're all going to be very good friends."
I rolled my eyes and joined Fred and George as they countered her. "That's likely." Many of the students giggled and Umbridge shot us an aggravating grin reserved for misbehaving toddlers before she began pacing side to side. "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this historic school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected, and prune practices that ought to be prohibited." She whispered the ending of her extremely dull speech and strode back to her seat at the table.
The Headmaster bade us clap, and half of us did halfheartedly. "Thank you Professor Umbridge. That really was quite illuminating." He drawled, just as bored with it as we were. He continued stating the customary announcements.
"Illuminating? What a load of waffle." Ron said disdainfully, glancing at all of us.
My subsequent eye roll and heavy sigh signaled that I agreed with him.
"What's it mean?" Asked Harry.
Hermione whipped her head in his direction. Her hair would have slapped him had it not been secured by a black barrette."It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts." She returned. Her statement matched my feelings exactly.
Eventually, I couldn't stop myself from glancing over my shoulder toward Draco, who sat at the table behind me. He was staring intently at me. It made me uncomfortable, and he had the strangest look in his eye: one of determination, and something else that I couldn't describe.
Many of the students had already reached the Common Room by the time we were finished. Hermione and Ron gone, Harry and I walked together to the Gryffindor dormitories while trying to deflect the glares and jeers thrown at us. "Ignore them Harry." I ordered, steering him away from a group of Slytherin seventh years who jabbed at us.
"What is their problem?" Harry spat.
I felt that it was wisest not to answer him. He was venting and didn't need a comment from me.
The portrait that guarded our House, normally called by her affectionate nick name "the Fat Lady," but who I knew as Lady Matilda, greeted us before Harry spoke the password. "Be warned, many in there aren't happy about you two."
"Thank you." I answered politely and braced myself as the door opened and we stepped into the cavernous room. Our housemates looked up as Harry and I walked in and we scanned the room wearily, wanting to get to our rooms unharmed.
A radio quietly told us of another made up news story and the volume in the room grew quieter as the boy beside me and I navigated the throngs of students crowding the room. Many held the Daily Prophet, including Seamus who peered at Harry. Dean smiled at us.
"How was your summer?" I asked, staring at the dark skinned boy and attempting to dispel the tension that surrounded us.
"Alright." Dean nodded. "Better than Seamus', anyway."
Seamus threw his paper down on the coffee table and stood up, confronting us. "Me mum didn't want me to come back this year."
"Why not?" Harry inquired calmly beside me. We both knew that the accusations were coming, and they wouldn't just be aimed at Harry.
"Let me see. Uh, because of you two." Seamus taunted. "The Daily Prophet's been saying a lot of things you both, Harry, and about Dumbledore as well."
Harry's calm attitude evaporated as he retorted. "What, your mum believes them?"
"Well, no one was there the night Cedric died."
"I guess you should read the Prophet, then, like your stupid mother. It will tell you everything you need to know." Harry snapped, stepping forward and voicing his hatred of the paper.
"Harry!" I cried, reflexively grabbing his arm to try and restrain him.
"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that! And you..." the Irish boy turned to me, making the argument personal.
Harry cut him off, stepping in between us. "Don't drag her into this, Seamus. This is between you and me."
"Ooh." Seamus mocked. Harry and I both wore identical masks of confusion. "I see how it is." I gathered what Seamus was implying quicker than the boy defending me did.
"We are not together Seamus. We're just friends." I asserted, moving beside Harry instead of behind him.
Harry, sensing that Seamus was leading him off topic, drew the conversation back on course and said, "I will have a go at anyone who calls us liars!"
Suddenly, Ron came to our aid. "What's going on?"
"He's mad, is what's going on. And his girlfriend is too." Seamus shot at me.
Harry tried to step in front of me again. I stopped him. "I can take care of myself." I whispered. I stood defensively, my hand itching for my wand. That meant I was very angry, but I didn't let anyone see it on my face.
"Do you believe the rubbish he's come out with about You-Know-Who?" Seamus spat.
Ron took the empty place beside Harry, and Hermione suddenly appeared next to me. "We do." Hermione affirmed.
"Does anyone else have a problem with us?" Ron challenged. When no one else assaulted us, we strode up to our respective dormitories.
I collapsed on my bed and held my head in my hands. I wanted to throw something, or better yet, jinx it into oblivion. I ended up shredding my pillow and repairing it immediately, but not before Hermione and Ginny walked into the room and were assaulted by flying feathers. Hermione took the place next to me, causing my bed to creak loudly on account of its new occupant. She wrapped her arm around me and I leaned into her comforting hug. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I lied. They didn't buy it.
"I'm sure you are. The pillow just exploded on its own, right?" Ginny challenged. I was tempted to bite my lip before she sat down next to me.
"If you want to talk..." Hermione offered.
"What is there to talk about?" I fumed, shooting up from my seat. I composed myself after seeing their shocked expressions. "I'm fine, really. I'm just... tired." I said, containing my anger and annoyance as much as I could.
"Ok." Hermione answered, getting off of my bed and giving me space. I counted - one, two, three, one, two, three – over and over again to calm myself down.
My mother had always told me to contain my emotions, risking letting my gift slip if I didn't. If I didn't show that I had it, how could it be used against me or people I loved?
The calm one, I was always the mediator; the eye of the storm, so to speak. Sometimes it was real, but normally it was a well built facade: a nearly impenetrable and carefully constructed mask that I wore whenever I was in the middle of a confrontation, knowing the consequences if I didn't.
Seamus had come close to destroying my facade earlier, and I had wanted so much to take out my wand and do who-knows-what to him. If I had, my gift probably would have worked of its own accord, and healed him, along with anyone else in the room who had so much as a pimple. That instance was one of the many times my iron grip on my emotions had been tested. I had never lost it, but I knew that that could change at any time. I had to keep it together for everyone's safety, as well as mine. I sensed that the new teacher would considerably test me, and would be a problem, but I had to handle it and keep my powers a secret.
My sleep was light and troubled, the things I was mulling over keeping me half-awake the entire night, and I woke up tired and achy. It was exactly how I needed to be on my first day with a new teacher.
My roommates were all still asleep, the first shades of dawn barely appearing through the arched window. I felt safe enough to exercise the tiniest tangible bit of my powers. I slightly loosened control of it, and violet sparks seeped out of my fingers, slowly crawling across my skin and banishing the aches, pains, and lack of sleep from my body.
Satisfied that I was well and my roommates were none the wiser, I got dressed and quietly sneaked downstairs, instantly penning a letter to my mother and told her everything that had transpired since I had arrived at Hogwarts.
I found myself sitting with Hermione to the front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. One of the Patil twins folded a small paper airplane, the other enchanted it, transforming it into a bird; and sent it soaring across the room. Many of the students attempted to hit or catch the toy, until it suddenly caught fire and drifted down to Pavati's desk, red and smoldering.
We all looked behind us, disappointed and annoyed that our fun had been unceremoniously quashed. The nauseating witch, dressed in an unflattering mermaid style dress in a drab shade of orange and still wearing that deplorable pink wool sweater, stood by the outside door, a smug expression contorting her rectangular face.
"Good morning, children." She said sweetly, in no way trying to hide the contempt and condescension from her voice. She walked down one of the aisles, flicking her particularly short wand to and fro as words spelled on the board. Many of the students gaped at her disconcertingly. "Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations. O-W-Ls. More commonly known as OWLs." She carefully emphasized the word "Ordinary." "Study hard and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and the consequences may be severe." She giggled again, and I felt bile rise in my throat.
She flicked her wand and a few enormous stacks of brand new books floated toward us. One of the books plopped in front of me and I glanced at the childish cover. Dark Arts Defense, Basics for Beginners stared back at me. Hermione, always the bookish one, instantly flipped through the volume while I pushed mine disdainfully away. "Your previous instruction in this subject has been disturbingly uneven. But you'll be pleased to know, from now on you will be following a carefully structured, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic. Yes?"
Hermione had her hand raised, a bewildered look on her face. I began to grudgingly flip through my book. "There's nothing in here about using defensive spells?"
"Using spells?" Umbridge laughed. "Ha-ha! Well, I can't imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom."
"You aren't going to let us use magic?" I asked, astonished. Even a brain-washed Ministry woman as detestable as this couldn't possibly deny us the use of the very thing we were here to learn.
"You will be learning about defensive spells in the secure, risk-free way." The professor explained.
"What use is that?" Harry challenged. "If we're attacked, it won't be risk-free."
"Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class!" She ordered, silencing Harry.
"It is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge of defensive magic would be sufficient to get you through your examinations, which, after all, is what school is all about."
"But how is theory going to prepare us for what's out there?" Harry retorted.
"There is nothing out there dear. Who do you imagine would want to harm children like yourselves, hm?"
"We won't always be children." I snapped. The teacher sent me a warning glare, but I didn't care.
Harry continued. "Oh I don't know. Maybe Lord Voldemort."
The room quieted and Umbridge stopped, obviously terrified. "Now, let me make this quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark Wizard is at large once again. This is a lie." She explained very slowly, at the end standing by Harry.
"It's not a lie. I saw him. I fought him." Harry exploded.
"Detention, Mr. Potter!" she answered turning away from Harry and nearing me. I took my chance.
"Then you believe Cedric Diggory died for no reason?"
The professor turned, not expecting to be attacked from two sides. "Cedric Diggory's death was but a tragic accident."
"It was murder!" I shouted.
"Voldemort killed him. You must know this!" Harry finished.
"Enough!" Umbridge screeched. I was almost completely sure that I had bought myself detention, but I wouldn't allow her to attack Harry without a defense on his side.
"Mr. Potter, Ms. Braddock, seven thirty, my office." she giggled.