AN: Hello, all, here's another chapter for you! I had this one about a third done for at least a two weeks now but I had no idea how to progress the story. Hopefully, I haven't failed in making it good.

By the way, if you're a fan of Percy Jackson and Harry Potter crossovers, you could give my answer to "Harry, The Twice-Blessed Half-blood" challenge a look-see. I know I should focus on what I already have up but I've never done a challenge before and really wanted to try it.

C:

The day after the first wave of students dealt with the new professor was met with irritation from those that had already landed in detention with the vile woman and frustration for those that had managed to hold their tongues despite her worthless lesson. On the Gryffindor side of things, she was hated almost as much as Snape, quite an accomplishment considering the Potions professor had years to achieve their detestation while she had only taken a few hours. She didn't have many fans in the other Houses either.

The night before, at dinner, many an assessing look was sent Marie's way. It seemed that Fay's questioning about how they were to defend themselves from Voldemort reminded them once more about Marie's claim of the Dark Lord's return. They spoke in indiscreet lowered voices, poking at her temper as if they were tempting her to explode at them so they could get a first-hand account. This demonstrated exactly why they were in the House of the brave; Marie was famous for her explosive rage and yet they poked at the sleeping lion.

Despite their efforts, Marie kept her temper, ignoring them in favour of thinking up ways to get rid of Umbridge. Her plots fell into the realm of fantasy almost immediately, drifting through daydreams of transfiguring Umbridge into a frog and selling her to a French restaurant. Marie left the Great Hall with her best friends on her heels, not even bothered by the sneering at her detailing of what happened after the Third Task. Yes, she had been irritated for a split-second, but that was before she remembered that the people discussing her were the same people that convinced themselves that a twelve-year-old muggle-raised half-blood had somehow gained control of a monster older than the Holy Roman Empire, and had tried to commit genocide against people like her own mother with it.

The morning after was met with less 'covert' discussion on the topic of Marie, Cedric, and their sanity, but the side-glances remained. If Marie wasn't so used to it, she'd be as miserable as Cedric currently was; he really wasn't used to being shunned

Speaking of miserable Hufflepuffs, Marie had promised Sally-Anne that she'd talk to the other girl's friends for her.

Marie stood from the Gryffindor table with a quick word to her friends that she'd be back and strolled over to Megan Jones and Leanne Runcorn, coincidentally, not two seats over from where Cedric was sitting. She sent the Head Boy a friendly wave before addressing the two brunettes that regarded her cautiously.

"Mind if I sit?" asked Marie, gesturing at the space in front of them. "I've got a message from Sally-Anne."

The two girls looked wary before perking up at hearing 'Sally-Anne.'

"Sally-Anne? You've talked with Sally-Anne?" said Runcorn. She looked hopeful but doubtful. She motioned for Marie to sit. "I never heard her say anything about knowing you."

"We've never really talked to any Gryffindors in our year," added Jones.

"She moved nearby after third-year," Marie said, waving an idle hand. "It's a muggle neighbourhood so we started to hang out."

"Why didn't she come back?" asked Jones, her brows furrowing. "Why hasn't she owled us at all?"

"That's what she wanted me to talk to you about. She told me to tell you that she's sorry but her mum's pulled her out of Hogwarts because she thinks it's too dangerous, and that her mum won't let her use her owl for anything but mail-order and things like that."

"Are you serious?" said Runcorn. She looked incredulous. "But how is she supposed to take her O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s?"

The other Hufflepuffs nearby had paused in their conversations, unabashedly listening in.

"Well, she's homeschooling through an owl-correspondence program so I guess she'll take them that way as well." Marie shrugged. Honestly, she wasn't too concerned about Sally-Anne taking her tests or not. She doubted that the other girl would be the only witch in the world who didn't take O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s; she could easily get on in the Muggle world with everyday magic making sure she lived comfortably.

"You can't do the practicals through the mail!" cried Runcorn.

"Look, it'll be inconvenient, but if she's really bent on taking the tests, she could just take them after she comes of age. There's no law saying you have to take them while you're still in school, is there? Goodness, I'd thought you lot would be more upset about not seeing her again part instead of the odd schooling part."

The two flushed and made awkward faces.

"We're just concerned for her future," Jones protested. "Not many respectable places will hire you if you don't have at least your O.W.L.s."

Marie's lips curved upward slightly in bemusement. "I thought this was the Hufflepuff table, not Ravenclaw."

Jones puffed up in indignity. She was one of the ones that had worn those stupid 'Potter Stinks' badges the year before and it was clear her self-righteousness hadn't died down any. The girl snapped, "Just because we're not in the House for the nerds doesn't mean we're not intelligent! We work for what we get unlike some people!"

"Megan!" Runcorn gasped, shaking the other girl's shoulder sharply.

The eavesdroppers glanced away in embarrassment, taken aback at Jones' bluntly rude statement. Many turned away directly and pretended to continue their previous conversations.

Marie's lids lowered to half-mast and she rested her cheek against her knuckles, appearing for all the world as if the other girls were putting her to sleep. This was another reason she was putting little stock in the importance of what the other students thought of her, so many of them jumped to conclusions before they could even finish processing a thought and ran head first into an opinion without sitting down to figure out if it was reasonable.

She regarded them indifferently for a moment.

"So quick to jump to offense," said Marie, her tone distant and bored. "So fast to insult." She took in the haughty brunette's stiff expression. "Buying into stereotypes and looking down on people isn't very nice, you know; you sure you fit in among those that are supposed to be kind and unbiased?"

"What would you know?" said Jones, upper lip curling in derision.

"Megan," Runcorn said again, disbelief written on her face.

Marie's face didn't change. "With mood-swings that violent, I'd have pegged you as a Gryffindor. Or was it because you only reveal how you really are with a crowd of back-up that the Hat shipped you off to the only House that was accepting enough to deal with a two-faced coward?"

"What did you just say to me?" Jones shrilled, her voice raising.

Marie glanced up to the teacher's table, but it was too loud in the Hall that none of them noticed the disagreement happening at the Hufflepuff table. She looked back at the now fuming Jones.

"Hard of hearing as well, are you?" Marie said, getting up from the table. "They must make them more patient here than I thought."

Jones got to her feet as well though Runcorn tried tugging her back into her seat. "What, running away now?" A catty expression spread across her face. "Where's all the Gryffindor courage?"

Marie tilted her head back at the taller girl, effectively looking down her nose at Jones. "What am I supposed to be running from? Are you going to do anything besides talk smack?"

Jones snarled at Marie, an ugly expression on her face. Runcorn looked terribly upset and embarrassed at the situation, sending Marie a wobbly apologetic look.

"Message delivered," said Marie, shrugging a shoulder. "Mission complete. Why the hell would I stick around?"

"You're so full of it, Po—!"

"Settle down before I start handing out detentions," a stern voice chimed in.

Cedric was stood up from where he had previously been sitting, a displeased look on his face. He had been staring off at the far wall aimlessly before Marie made her way over.

He gave Marie a flat look. "Why are you causing trouble?"

Marie huffed, crossing her arms. "What trouble have I caused this time? Merlin, I come over to deliver a message between friends out of the goodness of my heart and there you are looking at me like I'm the Antichrist."

"'Goodness of your heart'," Jones scoffed, crossing her arms as well.

Marie sent the other girl a sharp look. "Yes, Jones. 'Goodness of my heart.' I certainly didn't have to come over here and put up with your PMS, but I did, because Sally-Anne asked me to do her a favour. You think I owe it to you to or something?"

"You insinuated we were dumb because we're Hufflepuffs! You came over and insulted us!"

"I certainly did not. You only took it that way 'cause you believe in those prejudices; don't think I missed you calling Ravenclaw the House of nerds!"

"Alright, alright!" said Cedric, raising a hand in a stopping motion. "That's enough of that. Jones, sit down and calm yourself. Marie, go do something else before you cause a riot."

Marie scoffed before smiling wryly at her friend. "Let's start a riot! A riot! Let's start a riot!"

Cedric snorted. "Go on then!" He waved her off.

Marie considered sticking around a bit longer just to be contrary but spotted Luna entering the Hall at the same moment, so decided to write it off as a bad job. Marie caught up with Luna halfway from the Ravenclaw table and invited the girl to sit with her and the rest of her friends at the Gryffindor table.

"Finally!" said Marie, guiding the blonde girl over arm-in-arm, pointedly not looking back at Jones. "Some intelligent conversation! I'm beginning to see what you mean about that Wrackspurt infestation, Luna."

Luna nodded solemnly. "There's only so much we can do when the ones afflicted refuse to accept they have a problem."

Marie wasn't sure why Ron and Hermione got into the most stupid of arguments. If it wasn't about homework and Quidditch, it was manners and house-elves. House-elves of all things! Marie wasn't sure why Hermione got on them about treating house-elves properly (or better yet, setting them free) when neither Marie nor Ron's family were in possession of any house-elves.

This particular instance of carrying-on about house-elves was instigated by Hermione working herself up into a froth about the Twins testing their products on the first-years, thus becoming too bothered to do homework.

She had wrenched her bag open; Marie thought she was about to put her books away, but instead she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects, placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace, covered them with a few screwed-up bits of parchment and a broken quill, and stood back to admire the effect.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing?" said Ron, watching her as though fearful for her sanity.

"They're hats for house-elves," she said briskly, stuffing her books back into her bag. "I did them over the summer. I'm a really slow knitter without magic, but now I'm back at school I should be able to make lots more."

"You're leaving out hats for the house-elves?" said Ron slowly. "And you're covering them up with rubbish first?"

"Yes!" said Hermione defiantly, swinging her bag onto her back.

"That's not right," said Ron angrily. "You're trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You're trying setting them free when they might not want to be free."

"Of course they want to be free!" said Hermione at once, though her face was turning pink. "Don't you dare touch those hats, Ron!"

Ron, of course, cleared off the rubbish on the hats so they were fully visible as soon as Hermione had disappeared into the girl's dorm. "They should at least see what they're picking up," he said firmly.

Marie personally agreed with Ron. She certainly didn't believe in forced servitude — it hit a bit close to home after her younger years with the Dursleys — but she didn't agree at all with deceiving someone into doing something 'for their own good.' It smacked of a god-complex and a disregard for other people's opinions.

Hermione meant well, but often acted as if she was a parent and everyone else in the world were her infant children that needed her guiding them by hand. This was the reason Marie planned to stop leaning on Hermione for homework assistance; Marie was perfectly capable of handling her assignments herself and maybe it would help her friend ease up on the mother-henning.

She had thought the fuss about the house-elves would die off after the night before, but when Hermione came down to breakfast looking pleased with herself, Ron just had to ask. They had a full schedule that day and it was pouring outside, and the only bright side was that there was no Potions that day; Ron had been peeved that someone was in a good mood while he was visibly bothered.

To his inquiry, Hermione had said, "The hats have gone. Seems the house-elves do want freedom after all."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Ron told her cuttingly. "They might not count as clothes. They didn't look anything like hats to me, more like woolly bladders."

Marie face-palmed and smacked his shoulder but the damage was done. Hermione did not speak to him all morning.

By the time Marie showed up to her detention that night, she had a splitting headache. The day had been just short of horrendous. Ron and Hermione weren't talking to each other. They had double Transfiguration and double Charms, both preluded by a speech on the importance of O.W.L.s and how everything would become far more difficult for them this year. Whoopi-fucking-doo. If that was not enough, Hagrid was still missing (they had noticed his lack of presence when he didn't show up to the Feast) and that Grubbly-Plank woman was substituting again. Nothing against the woman, but Marie didn't appreciate the way many of the students acted as if they were glad Hagrid wasn't there.

Perhaps worst of all was when Umbridge came across students talking about what Cedric had said to them earlier in the day about Voldemort. She'd seemed to freeze in a state of unmoving frenzy before she stuck a detention on each of them, even extending Marie's detention into a week's worth even though Marie hadn't even been part of the conversation. Marie's protests were met by dear ears.

If all that wasn't enough, Marie had got bitten by a bowtruckle, Luna and Hermione had gotten into a stare-off about the validity of the creatures Luna talked about, and Angelina Johnson got on her case about getting a detention when she was supposed to be at the Keeper tryout. That last part really got Marie's goat.

"How can you even blame that on me?" Marie exclaimed, tossing her hands in the air in exasperation. "That woman was handing out detentions like they were coupons at a buffet! All I did was ask why she didn't want us doing practicals and she slapped one on me like a Shinto priest exorcising an evil spirit. You should have heard the amount she gave to Fay Dunbar!"

Angelina wasn't appeased. "Didn't I tell you I wanted to do a tryout with the whole team, and find someone who fitted in with everyone? Didn't I tell you I'd booked the Quidditch pitch specially? And now you've decided you're not going to be there!"

"I didn't decide not to be there!" cried Marie, stung by the injustice of these words. "I got my detention extended by that Umbridge woman for literally just standing there! Not even Snape has sunk so low! Don't act as if I'm blowing you off for the hell of it; one mention of Voldemort and she was ready to crucify us!"

"Well, you can just go straight to her and ask her to let you off on Friday," said Angelina fiercely. "And I don't care how you do it, tell her You-Know-Who's a figment of your imagination if you like, just make sure you're there!"

She stormed away.

"Snarly bitch." Marie muttered, getting a reprimand from Hermione. They entered the Great Hall. "I think we'd better check with Puddlemere United whether Oliver Wood's been killed during a training session, because she seems to be channeling his spirit."

"What d'you reckon are the odds of Umbridge letting you off?" said Ron skeptically, as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Snape would sooner come out of the closet," Marie said plainly, not even acting glum. "Angelina's going to have to suck it up because there's no way in hell I'm crawling to that monstrosity and begging for any favours. Not that she would either way."

Marie resolved to send Ron with an apology note and a bar of chocolate for Angelina when she headed out for her detention on Friday. Ron was going to the tryouts anyway since he wanted to be Keeper so he was the logical sacrifice to offer to Angelina to take out her anger on.

When she arrived at Umbridge's door, she plucked her Seeing-Eye from the air and tucked it back into her robe-pocket. There were those that tried to get her in trouble for having it with her (Malfoy and Snape for example) but Professor Sprout's note proved its worth greater than gold. A slight smile on her face despite her headache, she knocked on the door and entered.

She had known the Defense Professor's office well after learning with Remus and the fiasco with the fake Moody, but the room had become completely unrecognisable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolour kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These were so foul that Harry stared at them, transfixed, until Professor Umbridge spoke.

"Good evening, Ms. Potter."

Marie started and looked around. She hadn't noticed Umbridge at first because she was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blended only too well with the tablecloth on the desk behind her.

Marie watched her steadily. "Evening."

"Well, sit down," Umbridge said, pointing toward a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for Marie.

"Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Ms. Potter. No, not with your quill," she added, as Marie bent down to open her bag. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."

She handed Marie a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point.

"I want you to write 'I must not spread lies,'" Umbridge told Marie softly.

"How many times?" Marie asked, with a creditable imitation of politeness. This uppity, fascist bitch. Marie had never even said anything about Voldemort herself!

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," said Umbridge sweetly. "Off you go." She moved over to her desk, sat down, and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking.

Marie raised the sharp black quill and then realized something was missing. "You haven't given me any ink." Seriously, how stupid was this woman?

"Oh, you won't need ink," said Professor Umbridge with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was this quill self-inking then? She sighed internally. Whatever.

Marie placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not spread lies.

She let slip a gasp of surprise at the sudden pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Marie's right hand, cut into her skin as though traced there by a scalpel — yet even as she stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth.

What the hell? What the fuck just happened?

Marie looked around at Umbridge. She was watching Marie, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile.

"Yes?"

Was that bint even serious? She just gave Marie a quill that inflicted injury on her as well as used her blood as ink! This had to be illegal! Wizard put more worth on their blood than Muggles and Marie knew damn well that such a thing was illegal in the Muggle world.

Marie got to her feet at once, her eyes never leaving Umbridge.

The evil woman tensed and frowned. "What are you doing, Ms. Potter? Sit down and continue your lines at once."

She was serious! She actually expected Marie to go along with it as well!

Marie snatched up her bag and moved to the door, the wretched quill still clenched in her hand. She was going to McGonagall at once and she was going to call the DMLE!

"Where do you think you're going, girl?" said Umbridge, getting to her feet as well.

She moved to follow after Marie but Marie pulled out her wand faster than blinking and aimed it straight at the bitch's face. They both stood stock still, Marie glaring in outrage, Umbridge in offended self-righteousness.

"Put away that wand at once! I'll have you expelled for threatening a professor!"

"And I'll have you tossed in prison for injuring a student!" Marie countered, her wand not wavering once. "You think I'm going to sit here and cut myself open because you told me to? You're mental!"

Marie began to walk backwards to the door, not letting Umbridge out of her sight. When she got to the door, she sent a kick to it, forcing it open. She called out, "Dobby!"

With a pop, Dobby appeared. "Marie Potter, Miss has—!" He stopped short, taking in the scene. His ears drooped. "Marie Potter, Miss is needing help?"

Marie did move her gaze away from the pink professor. "Yes, Dobby, I could really use your help, if that's alright. You see, I'm having a bit of a disagreement with Professor Umbridge here, and I'd feel a lot safer if you could bring some more Professors here." Umbridge twitched at the admission. "Professors McGonagall and maybe Sprout would be ideal. Anyone you could get to the quickest, really, as long as it's not Snape."

Marie's eyes darted when Dobby popped away and that was when Umbridge chose to strike.

"St—!"

"Mitto!" Marie barked. Umbridge's wand went flying at the disarming spell. "Sopio!" The woman tried to dodge but Marie's spells didn't come with coloured lights.

Umbridge dropped to the floor in a dead faint. Good lord, those spells Marie had learned at Sirius' house really worked!

Wand still at the ready, Marie walked over to the knocked-out woman and cast the Rope-binding Spell on her. Not five seconds later, the horrible beast was trussed up like a pig.

Less than a minute later, Professors Sprout and Flitwick were popped into the room. Dobby beamed at Marie and disappeared once more. Marie double-took just as Dobby disappeared. Had he been wearing a stack of hats?

"Merciful Merlin," said Sprout looking highly discombobulated. "What—? Miss Potter!" She had just noticed the scene before her.

Flitwick had been gaping since he arrived. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Sorry about this, professors," said Marie. "I asked Dobby to bring you here because Umbridge was completely out of line. Please tell me this is illegal." She held out the repulsive quill.

It was Flitwick that got to it first, looking appalled. "Merlin's beard! This is a Blood Quill! Why on earth do you have this?"

Marie jerked her head at the tied up teacher. "She gave it to me to write my lines. When I stopped, she told me to keep at it."

"A Blood Quill!" Sprout breathed, disbelief on every line of her face. "These have been illegal outside of controlled use in contract signing by Gringotts for almost a hundred years already! How did she even get her hands on one?"

"So, it's completely illegal of her to make me write lines with them?" Marie clarified.

Professor Sprout jerked. "Goodness! You mean to tell us you actually wrote with it? What did you write?!"

Marie picked up her parchment and gave it to the frantic professors.

"Thank Merlin for small mercies," Flitwick exclaimed. He breathed out a sigh of relief. "I feared the worst."

"What do you mean?"

"Ms. Potter, there's a reason it's only allowed for contract signing!" Sprout nearly shouted. "Writing in your own blood is as binding as it can get. Think of what would happened had you written 'I will not breathe.' You would be physically unable to draw breath ever again!"

Marie paled at the realization of how closely she had been to death. That damned woman nearly killed her!

"You understand now," Flitwick added. "It's very fortunate she formatted the statement with 'must' instead of 'will.' 'Must' makes it a guideline instead of vow."

The three stood in silence for a moment, their eyes on the tied-up bundle on the floor.

"Well," Sprout said finally, a resolved look on her face. "We'll be taking her to the Headmaster at once and floo the DMLE. Merlin willing, she'll be out of the school by nightfall."

The professors did just as they said, hitting Umbridge with stunner to prevent her from waking and levitating her out the door.

As they left, Professor Sprout tucked the Blood Quill in her apron pocket and addressed Marie. "Ms. Potter, I suggest you visit Madame Pomfrey to have your hand looked at before your return to your common room. When you get there, please tell Professor McGonagall that we'd like her with us in the Headmaster's office as well."

Marie watched them go blankly, almost unable to believe that such a thing just happened. Her Defense professor almost killed her! Granted, it was basically the done thing by now what with imposters, dark wizards, and dangerous beings trying their hand at teaching, but technically Umbridge had been the one that actually came the closest to offing her. And that was with a werewolf and a dark lord in the running as well.

She took a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. Damn it all to hell, it was on the second day of school as well.

"Dobby?"

The house-elf appeared again, this time more concerned than enthusiastic. Now that she got a good look at him, she could see that he was indeed wearing a stack of hats hats. The top most two looked to be the ones that Marie had seen Hermione leave out the night before.

"Marie Potter, Miss is needing more help?"

Marie thought about asking about the hats but decided to save it for later. "No, Dobby, I just wanted to thank you for being such a good sport and giving me a hand. I really owe you one."

Dobby shook his head furiously. "Oh, no, Marie Potter, Miss! Dobby is always happy to help Miss whenever she is needing it!"

"Dobby . . ." Marie put a hand her shoulder. "She had me writing with a Blood Quill. I see you know what that is." Dobby gaped in horror at her words. "Not to worry, I didn't write anything binding, I just wanted you to understand why I'm so appreciative. We really dodged a Killing Curse this time 'round."

"A-a-a B-b-bl-bl—" Dobby couldn't even get the words out.

"That's right," Marie agreed. She hitched her bag up to her shoulder again and beckoned to Dobby as she walked out the door. "Now, I'm off to tell McGonagall that the other professors want her. I'd love your company if you're free, we haven't really talked since the Second Task last year."

Dobby perked up again, bouncing as her bounded his way to her side. "Oh, yes, Miss! Dobby as plenty of time! Headmaster Dumbly-door has made it so all elves are taking breaks!"

Well, that would hopefully please Hermione.

"Mind if I ask about Winky?" said Marie as they walked. "Oh, by the way, how are the other elves feeling about Hermione's hats? She said the ones she left out last night were gone and I can see you're wearing them."

Dobby was still smiling, but his ears drooped a little. "None of the other elves will clean Gryffindor Tower anymore, not with the hats and socks hidden everywhere. They is finding them insulting, Miss. Tilly was picking up books and cried to Mackmack when she found a mitten. They is telling Dobby that Dobby must be cleaning Gryffindor Tower by himself unless Miss Grangy stops."

Marie's stomach sunk. It was worse than she had feared.

Hermione reacted as badly as Marie had expected.

After returning to the Tower far earlier than anyone had expected of her and then blowing them off to talk to McGonagall of all people first, her friends were suitably curious as to what had happened. Especially when McGonagall had bustled out of the Tower immediately afterward with a pinched look on her face none had seen on her since the Dementors attacked the Quidditch pitch.

Marie had told them what happened in plain words, commenting that she gave Umbridge props for continuing the tradition of trying to off her so early in the game.

"All the others waited until the end of the year," Marie had said, channeling all the nonchalance of Charlie Weasley as he talked about wrestling an adolescent dragon. "A little eager but I suppose waiting didn't work out for the others."

Ron poked at her for acting so blasé about it. "Honestly, the way you're describing it, you'd think it turned out she just didn't have the right N.E.W.T.s for the position."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't. Didn't exactly give off a sense of competence, did she?"

"Oh, you two!" Hermione joined in. "This is serious business! I knew she was corrupt but I didn't think she'd think she'd do something illegal. Isn't that just stomping all over her 'obey the government' spiel?"

Marie's following conversation with Dobby didn't go over well either. Hermione didn't take kindly to the house-elves undermining her efforts.

"Of all the ridiculous things!" Hermione cried. "Why are they fighting it?"

Ron grunted. "I told you it wasn't right. Why would they thank you for trying to trick them?"

Hermione glared at him in response, already opening her mouth to answer back.

Marie, already tired from the long day and the fiasco of a detention, didn't have enough patience to listen to them go at it again. Before Hermione could say anything, Marie cut in, "Hermione, you do realize that you giving them hats isn't actually going to do anything, right?"

Hermione's mouth snapped shut. She blinked. "What?"

"I'm saying that you making them clothes and hiding hats and socks and whatever every is useless because they're not your house-elves. The clothes have to come from the one they consider their master."

The bushy-haired girl got a fanatical glint in her eyes. "Are you saying that Dumbledore has to—?"

"I'm saying you should stop because you're not doing anything but making more work for Dobby, and even if he likes it fine, that's sort of the opposite of what you want, right?"

"Don't be ridiculous! I'll just take to Professor Dumbledore and—"

"And what?" said Ron. "Convince him to get rid of the things doing all the cooking and cleaning that needs to be done? You're mental!"

"You could stand to do your own laundry, Ronald!"

"We're at school, Hermione! What time do we have to cook and clean in between all our homework and projects?"

"Another thing," said Marie, raising her voice a bit to distract the two from their argument. "I'm pretty certain they can actually leave whenever they want if they wanted to."

"What are you talking about, Marie? They're slaves; indentured servants at best! Slaves don't leave whenever they want to!"

Marie shot her a look. "Shut up a minute, would you? Listen, Dobby went to Dumbledore to ask to work in Hogwarts, he wasn't captured and shackled to the school. That means that house-elves know that if they want something to do, Hogwarts is a good place for it. From what I've seen, those elves asked to work here, they weren't forced. Sure, Dobby asked for pay, but it's far less than what Dumbledore offered him and he's not actually doing anything with it besides buying socks; his food and living space is provided for him.

"During your research of them, did you read about any sort of magic or law forcing the house-elves to stay with the families they serve?"

Hermione had no answer for that though she did look considering.

At having the other girl listening for the moment, Marie decided to get all the thoughts she'd put into the matter all out on the table.

"You know, outside of social conditioning, I think they can do what they want. From what I've observed with Dobby, the obedience he gave the Malfoys was because of abusive conditioning. It's like training a baby elephant not to escape by tying it to a metal post so when it's grown it won't try to escape even when the metal post as been exchanged for wood; technically they can leave, by they've lost the will to try anymore. That's an extreme case of course.

"I've heard the other elves talk about their previous families and a lot of them just go on and one about how good things were. From what I've seen of them, most are treated in a way that they wouldn't want to leave in the first place. It's like taking care of a kitten from birth so when they're grown, even when the doors are wide open, they don't feel a need to leave.

Marie saw Hermione ready to protest but barreled on so there would be no space for interjection.

"I mean, think about it: There's nothing magical about the clothes, it's just a statement saying that they're not wanted anymore. 'You're no good anymore; leave.' It's basically the house-elf form of a pink-slip. Who wouldn't be devastated by the people they've invested time and effort into saying that they're crap at their job and that they should get out?"

"It's not the same at all!" Hermione cried, smacking the table for emphasis. "They've been brainwashed into thinking all they should want is to work and that they shouldn't get anything in return for it! They've been made to believe that they have no worth outside of being slaves!"

Ron and Marie exchanged looks.

"Dobby knows full well he can do a lot more than keep house," Ron pointed out. "Did his damnedest to get Marie out of Hogwarts to keep her safe, didn't he? He tried to keep his hero safe because he chose to, not because he was told to. And Marie didn't tell him to send Malfoy Senior flying down those stairs but he sure did that too."

"And Dobby's a free elf now! He saw an opportunity to be free and he took it!"

"And ran straight to Dumbledore so he could be put to work!" Ron countered. "He even haggled down the price Dumbledore wanted to pay him! They like working! It's just how house-elves are!"

"That's the most absurd thing! Why would anyone want to work under someone instead of being free?"

"You do understand that they aren't human, right, Hermione?" said Marie, crossing her arms. "What sounds silly to you makes sense to them because they don't think the way a human would."

Hermione couldn't have looked more aghast if Marie had stabbed Crookshanks in front of her.

"Marie Potter, how could you say such a thing! Just because they're not human doesn't mean they're not people; they have a mind just like anyone else!"

"Stop jumping to conclusions! I know very well they're people; Dobby's my friend, isn't he? I meant that of course they're going to think differently. A crow isn't going to think like a dolphin, is it? Why would house-elves think about things the same way a human would?

"Look, do you remember that story about the shoemaker and the elves?"

Hermione nodded.

"Then you'll remember that the elves came and helped out because they wanted to. The shoemaker didn't do anything to make them stay, they did because they chose to. He woke up one day and there were elves taking care of the shoe-making for him. In return, all he had to do was treat them kindly and leave out things for them to eat.

"Remember how later on, when the shoemaker's wife left out clothing for them as payment instead of the bit of food, they left and never came back? Wouldn't that mean that receiving payment is an insult to them? Wouldn't you feel horrible if the people that you've treated like family suddenly threw money at you for something you did for them because you loved them? If it was me, I'd feel cheap.

"That's a muggle story and it's not the same," said Hermione, crossing her arms.

"You only ever read text-books and non-fiction in the library. I found a wizarding variation of that story in the Magical Creatures section."

"It's still just a story, Marie."

"Fine then, let's talk about the practicalities of setting them free. Where would they even go? House-elves don't exactly how their own settlements. You set them free and they'll be homeless."

"They can buy homes with the money they make when they ask for pay!"

"Since you're so insistent that house-elves are like humans, let me ask you this: Would you hire a homeless person to do anything in your home? Maybe if you're really trusting you'd take them in and let them care for your lawn and stuff like that, but you wouldn't give them money for it, you'd let them work for a room and food. How is being set free and then working for a room and food any different from what they have now besides being technically homeless?"

Hermione had no answer to that.

"And as to the question of where would they go, they would go to a place where they can work in exchange for food and a place to sleep, likely; exactly like where they were just tossed out of. Exactly as any homeless human, just like I said before.

"Isn't that what any person chucked out of their home would do when they have nothing else?" By this point, Marie was good and worked up. "What you're recommending is like kicking out a little kid while saying 'I love you so much, dear, so I'm not going to confine you the only place you've ever known. Be free! Go out and work for money so you can buy a home instead of staying with someone and taking care of them because they're your family.' Why do you think Winky's so upset? The Crouches were her family and she loves them still! Sure, they were mean to her, but they were all she had!

"That's the payment that they want, Hermione. They don't want gold for things they have no use for, they want to take care of the place they call home and to be called part of the family! Giving them clothes and telling them they should work for money would be like me telling you while you were taking care of your sick grandmother that you're a failure at nursing and you'd be better off getting a paying job in a different position!

"Now, do you understand why they don't want to be set free?"

Neither Hermione nor Ron had an answer to that.

AN: Bet ya'll didn't see any of that comin'! I have to admit, the scene with Umbridge came out of nowhere. It's actually a bit inconvenient as the little planning I had I my head involved having Umbridge stick around till the end of the year. It's only the second day of school! WTF. Sigh/ I'll just have to figure it out.

I also hope you found Marie's thoughts on house-elves worthy of consideration. There's been a lot of different ways of dealing with them in fanfiction along with lots of explanations of why they do what they do and I hope you find my thoughts at least a little understandable.

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