Author's Note: First, thank you for reading and reviewing and for all of the PMs. Second, it should be interesting to see how Harry reacts now that he is back in classes and applying himself while going through such an incredibly hard time. We have all been there – well not having your first romantic interest being taken out by Dementors (I hope) – but going through the motions as you try to deal with the pain or loss that you feel inside and being more or less numb to most, if not everything around you. My goal will be to slowly bring him back and come to terms with how he felt about Cedric and his future (and Charlie, though he doesn't know it yet!).

Anyways, it should be fun to see how Umbridge behaves this time around and what Severus thinks about a more studious Potter.

Finally, thanks to A Week of Sundays for the 50th review! I will do my best to work the request into this story.

Posted 8/12/15

Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!

Harry opened his eyes slowly, dreading the return of his depressed feelings and the sense of hopelessness that had enveloped him. It was Monday morning and today would start his O.W.L. year, but that was a distant thought against the tightness in his chest. What little sleep that he had been able to get this weekend had been restless and unsatisfying. His dreams now centered on Cedric because his barrier that had kept those thoughts at bay had been broken; and he was constantly reliving multiple other ways in which he had failed to save his boyfriend. Oftentimes, Dementors got him in the end, but other times, it was something else. But he would still be just a second too late to keep him alive.

Alive: that was something he had trouble processing now that he could think about Cedric getting kissed. His body was still functioning, but his soul – that part that made him Cedric – had been removed. In some ways, that was exactly how Harry felt right now.

He turned over onto his other side, knowing that it would be pointless for him to try and go back to sleep. The sun was rising anyways and without the aid of exhaustion, he knew that he would just lie there.

Time seemed to move incredibly slowly for him, as if each second had been lengthened just for him so that he could and would suffer more. Sometimes it was hard for him to think of making it through the next hour without his grief consuming him, but somehow he had found a way to not give in completely. So far, anyways.

Everything that he had ever experienced had given him the foundation to be able to withstand this tragedy. Even though it had nearly broken his spirit and resolve, there was still fight left in him - some small measure that it seemed would always be a part of him - or else he would have given up long before losing Cedric.

He threw the covers off of him and got himself ready for the day. He was up far earlier than the others, and gathered his belongings for the first day of class and ventured down to the common area to wait for Hermione and Ron to get up.

They had alternated between giving him space and trying to support him all weekend, and while he appreciated it, sometimes their presence only made it harder. How they acted around him was a constant reminder of his state as if he was looking into a mirror, not being able to forget what had happened for even a moment.

But he knew deep down, from years of experience, that not having them there would have been even worse – and he could only hope that someday, the future would be kinder to him. But right now, he didn't feel like the pain would ever go away.

So, he continued on, indifferent to many things as he pulled out a new book and read on one of the couches until his friends woke up and joined him.

The Great Hall was full of energy; students were having a hard time sitting in their seats and kept comparing their schedules amongst their friends. It was always an exciting time to see what period you had off and if your friends also had that time period free as well – which usually only happened when you took the same core classes and electives. However, the dreaded part of getting your timetable was seeing which day you would come to loathe, fear, and basically come up with any excuse to skive off on; and, for the majority of the school, it tended to fall on days when you had your double block of Potions.

Hermione had already committed both hers and then Harry and Ron's timetable to memory. First, they would start with Transfiguration and then their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with their new professor – Professor Umbrella or something. Harry hadn't really been paying attention to Hermione's comments about the pompous and arrogant speech she had given after she had interrupted the Headmaster during the Welcoming Feast. It turned out that Hermione had been one of the only people to listen to the entire thing; apparently, the woman had a knack for forcing your attention on anything but her. Which didn't exactly bode well that she was teaching a class.

Of course, after lunch, they would have a double block of Potions. Harry had a feeling that Mondays were not going to be his favorite this term and had already found his already paltry appetite shrinking for lunch on Mondays if he had to face Snape afterwards.

From there, Harry and Ron would get a free period while Hermione took Ancient Runes and then they would all had Astronomy that night. So, Mondays were basically the worst day for them but at least they would get it over with early in the week; the worst was when Astronomy happened on Friday nights.

And, obviously, they would be paired with Slytherin for the majority of their classes because they got along so well together.

"We better get going," Hermione announced. She didn't want to be late and miss out on anything. Ron quickly stuffed the rest of the toast in his mouth, having more of an appetite now that Harry was at least not in denial anymore.

They were one of the first groups to arrive to Transfiguration and sat towards the front on the right side of the aisle.

It didn't take long for the rest of the seats to fill up. Meanwhile, the trio started to get their books out and laid out the rest of the material that they had gotten used to needing for McGonagall's classes. One of the good things about getting there early was that Malfoy and his cronies had arrived nearly last and so were forced to sit in the back of the room. This suited Harry just fine and he was able to at least feel some small measure of comfort that they were about as far apart as they could be.

Just then, McGonagall entered and flicked her wand about the room to shut the doors and reveal a clean chalkboard in the front of the room.

"Welcome, students. Now then, as you all know this is an important year for you, for you will take your Ordinary Wizarding Levels this June. The grades that you receive will determine what classes you can continue with for your sixth and seventh years, and so it is of the utmost importance that you apply yourselves. Ultimately, the classes you can continue on in determine what N.E.W.T. exams that you can take -which we will worry about when the time comes - but know that they determine what jobs you can apply for upon leaving Hogwarts."

Nearly every pair of eyes was focused intently on McGonagall; even the slackers among them knew that this was not the time to start daydreaming. Hermione was furiously scribbling away each and every word that the professor said, lest she miss a single word and fail all of her exams.

"Also, your head of house will be meeting with each of you in the month before the winter holiday to discuss your general interests upon leaving Hogwarts. This will also provide you with valuable feedback on your academic performance leaving you enough time to hopefully correct a weak subject that your career interests demand."

She looked around the room, her features stern and professional, making sure that everyone was paying attention. Minerva McGonagall regarded all of her students equally, no matter the house, and to her, the most important thing was that they received the same education and opportunities.

"Anyone have any questions before we begin today's lesson?" Her eyebrow rose ever so slightly.

"Good. Today, we are going to start with a review of the first term's syllabus. After that, our next lessons will focus on a brief review of past years before starting the new material. I should warn you that the amount of homework will increase this year, so don't fall behind."

That statement was enough to make about half of the class moan, but Harry and his friends, at the behest of Hermione, had already been forewarned about the year and were already expecting to put in a solid effort for reasons not entirely related to school.

The only other sound for the rest of the period, besides McGonagall laying out what else they could expect for the year ahead, was the scratching of quills on parchment.

The rush of excitement that had come with the starting of the year was over for most of the fifth year students as they trundled along to their next class, hoping against reason that they wouldn't be assigned more homework on the first day. Was nothing sacred anymore?

They entered the Defense classroom as a massive blob and had to move relatively quickly to secure seats near each other. Only after they had been seated did they notice the atrocious styling of the classroom in which the colour pink had apparently exploded and covered nearly everything. It hurt the eyes to stare at any one spot for long, and most students were resigned to focusing on their non-pink textbooks, which weren't that appealing either.

Harry had already read the real book that other years had used and had only read through this one because he had run out of material to read one night when he couldn't sleep. In fact, he had subsequently found that this book was so singularly mind-numbingly dull that it was the only other thing capable of making him tired, and thus capable of sleep, besides exhaustion.

Along with what he knew the general syllabus of the class to be, he at least had the book that Remus had given him for his birthday. Either way, it looked liked they would be getting nothing out of this class or from this professor, who stood before them as if expecting their praise.

"Hem Hem," she giggled in a very disturbing way to get their attention.

"Good morning class," her carefully controlled voice sounded, infused with just a dash of fake sweetness.

An array of out-of-sync mumblings was given in response.

"Tisk, Tisk," she said, this time with a little more of her distinct condescending tone.

"That won't do at all, children. Now, when I say, Good morning to you, I expect a response of Good morning, Professor Umbridge, in response. Let's try again, shall we?"

"Good morning class," her eyes sparkled at her perceived power of them.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," the class returned without any enthusiasm.

"That's it!" She smiled widely. Dolores loved telling others what to do and how to do it, no matter how big or small the request was, and she loved it even more when people did what she said.

"I'll be here for just this year, though I'm sure we will all become very good friends. And who knows, it's possible I may see some of you at the Ministry after you are done with your schooling. I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, you know, and I could put in a good word for you to the right person in the right department."

Her smile grew even wider at the thought of them becoming beholden to her for favors.

"But first," she tittered in a way that disturbed Hermione at her very core because professors and holders of knowledge shouldn't act this way in her mind.

"We need to pass our O.W.L.s. I see that I am the fifth professor you have had in as many years – you must all be so very far behind. But don't worry, we are going to follow a Ministry-approved syllabus this year to bring you all up to speed."

Her toad-like eyes scanned around the classroom and watched them all open their textbooks following the instructions that she had placed on the board with a swish of her wand. Several students had gotten the distinct impression that she actually was a toad and became curious if she ate like one and made the mental note to see how she ate at lunch.

Hermione had read the book as well, but was expecting to be given something more considering the very important tests that they were going to be taking at the end of the year. So, she raised her hand when she saw that no other material was forthcoming.

"Yes, miss …?" Dolores' perfect façade showed the slightest signs of cracking at someone daring to ask her a question.

"Granger, Hermione Granger," she began. "I was curious about the syllabus for this course. I have already read the entire book and there is nothing in here about using defensive spells."

But Umbridge jumped in before Hermione could really get going.

"Using spells? I'm afraid I don't understand. We are going to be learning theory in this classroom and then you will apply that at the end of the year. If you understand the theory, you should be fine."

Hermione's left eye twitched ever so briefly as her brain failed to comprehend the bullshit explanation it had just been given.

She moved to raise her hand again but found that in her momentary, and narrowly avoided aneurysm, that someone else had asked a question.

Dolores Umbridge had expected to come in and provide a solid, if albeit rudimentary, instruction as this wasn't her strongest subject. Some students would fail, of course, but the blame would be put on them for not working as diligently as she would stress throughout the year. The students that did scrap by an acceptable or higher on their O.W.L.s would be praised and she would focus on herself being instrumental to their success when she went back to the Ministry. She knew the average grade that students tended to achieve on their exams, and besides an anomaly just over a year ago when that half-breed taught, she was sure that her approach would be sufficient to get slightly higher than the average.

"Yes, Mr. …?" she called, the sugar in her voice starting to fade.

"Draco Malfoy," the blond shot back, somewhat bemused that he wasn't immediately recognized for the little prince his father had convinced him that he was.

"I was hoping that we would learn the Patronus Charm, on account of the tragedy," he looked over with mock sympathy at the trio, "that occurred this summer."

Harry was white-knuckling his desk. That painful and endless hole in his chest got deeper even as the rest of his chest got tighter, as if someone was wringing his insides and stretching them simultaneously.

Hermione wanted to punch the little weasel again for bringing this up, whether it was actually a good suggestion or not.

Dolores was taken aback somewhat by the event she had orchestrated being brought up, but she recovered quickly. She should have seen this coming.

"That was a tragedy," she lied, incredibly disappointed in the outcome of not silencing Potter.

"But the Patronus Charm is incredibly difficult to teach and would take too much time away from your O.W.L. preparations. Also, I doubt that any of you have the mental fortitude for that spell yet. What happened to Cedric Diggory," she paused after seeing Harry struggling to keep his face neutral, but the sweat on his brow gave him away.

She was curious about his reaction to Cedric, she hadn't realized they were such good friends but that the tournament must have brought them together seeing as how they were both Hogwarts Champions. Perhaps she would be able to use this on the little liar.

During the pause, she acted as if she was heartbroken over the event with the Dementors.

She finished, "and one that is not expected to happen ever again. The Ministry is looking into ways to deal with rogue Dementors, so that nothing that happened to Cedric Diggory-," she emphasized especially for Harry. She was delighted to see him grimace this time.

"- will ever happen again."

After that, the students asked a few more questions before finally being silenced and forced to do their assigned readings. Harry had retreated into his mindscape immediately after the second mention of Cedric, for he knew that he could not sit there and listen to that conversation without him reacting in some way. He was still aware of vague voices, as he had gotten better at keeping himself aware of what was going on in, both in his mind and the world around him, but he didn't have to be constantly reminded of Cedric in here – more so than what he already thought about.

Hermione, and even Ron, had picked up on the slightly abnormal way in which she had said Cedric's name. Then, they noticed the way her round eyes glanced at Harry. Both knew how unpleasant this must have been on their raven-haired friend and Hermione saw his green eyes glaze over ever so slightly, indicating that he had gone into his mindscape – likely to escape the present conversation. It had been hard for her to see the unmistakable look of pain on his face and not be able to do anything about it.

She shook her head; they should have expected someone to say something about the Dementor attack in this class – and they should have expected Draco to do something, knowing as he did how much they affected Harry. Her mind furiously began to think of situations that could arise in Potions. Ultimately, she concluded that there was too many that could happen without the Dementor event being brought up and she just hoped that they would be able to get through this day intact.

The bell sounded and they made their way to the Great Hall, where any appetite they may have had was overshadowed by thoughts that their next class was in the dungeons. Even Hermione, who usually looked forward to all of her classes, was hesitant about Potions because of the added strain their Defense class had had on Harry. Who knew how much worse it would get under Severus Snape? Hermione did realize that he could be slightly biased towards Harry and had even thought about him missing class to go see Madam Pomfrey for a headache or another ailment, but she knew it would be worse for him in the long run.

Reluctantly, the Golden Trio took the dreary steps to see how much worse the day would become.

They wouldn't have to wait long.

Severus had already provided assigned seats for the students this time around.

"Where you sit will be your seat for the remainder of the year, as will your partner who will share your table," he said slowly, pronouncing each syllable as if he were savoring it. His eyes never left Harry as he watched him sit next to Longbottom who was clutching his bag nervously.

"Luckily, for most of you dunderheads, this will be the last year that we will be together, for I only take students with an Outstanding on their O.W.L.s."

The corners of his mouth made a slight uptick and he was staring directly at Harry.

He continued his brief introduction to the year.

"This year will be hard and the workload will increase drastically, as you no doubt have already found out."

Even the Slytherins looked slightly worse for wear at the thought of all the work before them.

"But, don't think that just because you will perform poorly on your exams doesn't mean that you will perform poorly in my class. I still expect you to try and not be the dunderhead that you are on the inside."

This time, his gaze settled on Neville, who gulped.

"Now then, here is your assignment for the day, which I will be grading as if it were for your O.W.L. mark."

The majority of the unhappy faces were from the Gryffindor side of the room, who were all thinking the same thing: how much lower were their grades going to be this year?

"Begin." Snape instructed and the class began to lite their cauldrons and retrieve the necessary ingredients for what they were brewing today.

"Hey Neville," Harry said, lacking energy but grateful that he hadn't been paired with a Slytherin. He wasn't completely thrilled with how his year had started off but he was too depressed to even care, and found that Snape didn't bother him as much anymore. He was a bully and Harry had far bigger things to worry about than someone who obviously held a grudge against him.

"Hiya, Harry," Neville offered weakly, already having dropped some of their ingredients on the floor.

"I'll start the dicing and you prepare the solution, all right?" he asked, even as he moved towards the cutting board.

To Harry it was not as difficult as he had once found Potions to be. After spending a good majority of the time reading and rereading past material, where he had focused on the properties of the ingredients and the essentials to proper potion making, he found it to be quite enjoyable. There was a subtle rush that came with treating everything properly and reminded him of cooking and how, at least when Petunia wasn't trying to bludgeon him with a frying pan, it could be peaceful and soothing.

He found that it suited how his mind functioned now, and was rather looking forward to seeing what he could do this year. It was the one positive thing that he had going for him.

Just as Harry was about to instruct Neville to begin adding the powdered moonstone while stirring the slightly acidic starting solution, he had to reach out quickly and forcibly restrain Neville's hand after he had caught sight of what he had been doing out of the corner of his eye.

"Neville, you can't add the powdered unicorn horn until the very end, let alone combine it with something that reacts so violently as hellebore syrup. Those two added at the same time could have caused a serious explosion."

He had made ever effort to keep his voice neutral, but Neville was still staring at him like he was waiting for the hammer to drop.

"Neville, what's wrong? I'm not going to yell at you?" He asked, removing his hand from Neville's who then set the ingredients down separately on the table.

Neville was still slightly fazed, but responded to Harry.

"I guess I just always assume that people are going to yell at me." His eyes dropped down to stare at the floor.

Harry now felt worse for a completely different reason. How had they never noticed Neville's difficulties with school before?

'Perhaps because you never took it that seriously either,' he told himself.

Suddenly, Harry had an idea and tested it out, knowing that they still had plenty of time to complete their assignment.

"Here is the text, read the instructions back to me," he said both gently and softly so that others in the class didn't overhear them.

Neville squinted at the lines and read them very slowly, but he still missed several words and had gotten the order of ingredients wrong.

It reminded him of someone in his primary school who had been doing even worse than he had been at the time.

"Neville, I think you may be dyslexic. It causes some people to have difficulty learning but it doesn't mean that you are not any less intelligent. I knew a kid who was dyslexic before I came here, and he had the same troubles that you seem to have. I don't know why I never noticed it until know," he put forth, trying to gage Neville's response to his suggestion.

"Is there anything that I can do? What happened to that kid?" Neville asked, never having considered before that he was the same as the others. He had always assumed that there was something wrong with him.

"Of course! We just have to tailor the learning to you. I'm sure Hermione – or her parents could find out more – we can ask her after class."

A rare smile appeared on his face and his features were more relaxed than Harry had ever seen them.

"So, back to the potion, only this time I will read the instructions to you and tell you what I know about them," Harry said, but he managed to feel just a small amount of happiness before his depression consumed it at how happy Neville had looked. It had briefly given him something to think about that was positive and didn't involve reading.

"All right, Harry" Neville said, as they began making the Draught of Peace.

Unseen in all of this was Severus Snape lowering his wand; he had been ready to cast a protective bubble limiting the severe explosion he knew would be imminent with Longbottom attempting anything to do with a cauldron. He had then been ready to jump in and berate the boy for his stupidity when Potter had started talking and done a reasonable job in handling the situation. He sat back in his chair and watched them make a perfect potion, and he started to look at Harry Potter very differently.

Let me know what you think! The part with Neville just happened as I typed – but it makes so much sense!