Harry stood on the platform 9 and ¾. Remus and Sirius were with him. The first was giving a stream of recommendations, while the second was under his dog form and stood by his side. As Harry absent-mindedly nodded his head at whatever Remus had been telling him he caught the eye of the black dog. Padfoot attempted to roll his eye which resulted in him having a funny expression on his face. The raven haired boy quickly looked away in an attempt to repress the laugh that was rising in him.
His eyes fell on the Weasleys. They were a little further away and were saying goodbye. Hermione was with them. The girl caught his eye for an instant before she quickly turned away a fearful look on her face. Harry's smile vanished. It had been like that ever since they had witnessed his transformation. He hadn't thought they would react that badly, but it seemed that they didn't care anymore that he was the same Harry they had always known. They could only see a monster in him now. Hermione and Ron were scared of him. He had seen it in their eyes. In Hermione's there was guilt and in Ron's disgust. Mr and Mrs Weasley had feared for their children and rejected him. Harry could understand that. He knew what overwhelming instinct felt like and he also knew that all races had the instinct to protect their cubs. It was natural: cubs were the future of the pack, killing them was annihilating that future. Of course it hadn't been Harry's intention to kill any of them, but they had perceived his power and felt the potential danger he could represent. Ron and Hermione's fear had hurt more. It felt like betrayal.
Ginny and the twins seemed to be unsure as to where they stood. For lack of better knowledge, they had followed their parent's will and had avoided Harry to the best of their ability. The only Weasley whose reaction had been different was Charlie. The young man had left the day after Harry's birthday, but for the little Harry had seen him after his transformation, he had only smelled curiosity seeping from the red-haired. Harry wasn't quite sure if he was surprised or not. On one hand, he was surprised that Charlie didn't seem to fear him. On the other hand, he had known that Charlie was mad about Magical Creatures and he understood he was now one of them.
Seeing his dark look, Remus, who had seemingly finished with his recommendations, pulled Harry in a quick hug.
"Don't mind them. They'll come round eventually." He said gently.
Harry turned to him and smiled sadly.
"Thanks Remus." He replied. "And Padfoot." He added caressing the dog's head.
Remus' eyebrows rose in incomprehension.
"What for?" asked the werewolf.
"For sticking with me even though I've changed. I really don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't."
Remus' face darkened and Harry anxiously starting thinking about how he had offended the man. Noticing his fretful eyes the lycan showed a reassuring smile.
"It's okay I'm not angry. But Harry you should know we would always stick by you no matter what. You know that don't you, cub?"
Harry smiled. Remus had taken to calling him cub more often. It was nice in a way.
"I know thanks."
With one last hug to Remus and a lick from Padfoot, Harry climbed into the Hogwarts Express. He set out to find an empty compartment. He knew he wouldn't have to worry about his…disagreement with Hermione and Ron being made public just yet as the both of them had been made prefects this year. As such they would be in the prefect's compartment so nobody would find it strange that Harry wasn't with them. Harry was thankful for that. He was pretty sure that Ron would start spreading nasty rumours about his former friend as soon as he could. He was grateful that he could at least enjoy a quiet train ride before things started getting hectic.
He noticed Neville and Luna in one carriage and was going to ask if he could sit with them when he spotted Ginny. The red haired girl met his eyes and turned away blushing. Harry could smell her fear, and from her obvious discomfort as well as the staring from Neville and Luna, it seemed she had already told them everything. Harry's face turned into a cold mask. With a stiff nod to the three of them he left. As he walked away from their compartment he heard Neville calling his name but he didn't stop walking.
When at last, he found an empty compartment, at the far end of the last carriage, he collapsed on the seat. He buried his face in his hands and allowed himself to break. He hadn't thought that Ginny and the twins might tell anyone about his transformation. He didn't know how he was going to deal with all this. People were going to react badly. Of course they would. Humans are afraid of what they don't understand and they wouldn't understand what he was. Hell, HE didn't understand what he was. Sirius and Remus had accepted him because their animal instincts had convinced them that he was trustworthy and they had accepted him as part of their pack. Well, at least he knew he wasn't dangerous. But the others wouldn't know that. And if they reacted like the Weasleys then even if they were told the truth they wouldn't want to hear it and insist that he was dangerous.
He lifted his tearless eyes towards the window. No he really didn't know how he was going to deal with this. Maybe he should talk to Dumbledore. The old headmaster would surely be able to give him some advice. Maybe he even knew what Harry was. The thought cheered him up a little. If anyone knew, it had to be Dumbledore. Sometimes Harry thought the old man knew everything, surely he would know about this too.
Harry watched glumly as ten first years were sorted in Gryffindor. He was sitting at the far end of the table next to the first years. Nobody had seemed to want him near them. Neville had sat next to him but hadn't said a word. Probably because Harry was doing his best to ignore him, as he was ignoring the glances and whispers of the other Gryffindors. Even some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws seemed to have heard the rumours and were spreading it into their one house. Harry sat through this, a cold expression firmly set on his face. As he glanced across the hall where his long time enemy sat at the Slytherin table, he couldn't help but notice how similar his current expression must have been to the glum one he saw on Malfoy's face.
The raven haired boy shrugged internally. Why should he care anyway? It didn't matter what anyone thought, not anymore. He flicked his green gaze to the staff table. Snape was staring at a woman Harry had never seen before who sat on the other side of the table. His contempt was clear. He had the kind of expression he usually reserved for Harry. The boy examined the woman who had caught the Potions master's attention. She was a small, chubby woman, with small black eyes. She had a disgustingly sweet smile etched on her face and she seemed to have a passion for pink, as it was the only colour she was wearing. Harry suddenly felt the urge to growl. This woman was bad news.
He turned to Dumbledore in the hope of getting an answer to his silent questioning. However, the old headmaster seemed to purposefully avoid his gaze. The gesture made Harry frown. So Dumbledore was abandoning him as well. The green eyes narrowed as Harry bared his teeth. He must've had a beastly expression because all the nearest students, save Neville (who still looked extremely uncomfortable), backed away with fearful shrieks. Harry turned to them, increasingly annoyed. As the scent of fear filled his surroundings he felt anger rise in him. This was absolutely ridiculous! With this thought in mind, and anger filling his eyes, he proceeded to stare them down.
Harry missed the first part of the headmaster's opening speech. In fact, he didn't realise it had started at all until a high pitch cough sent shivers down his spine. He turned to the staff table. The smallish woman had stood (which didn't make much of a difference height-wise) and was walking to the front where Dumbledore stood.
"Thank you headmaster for those kind words of welcome." She started in a girlish voice. "And how lovely to see all your bright happy faces smiling at me." Harry turned to look around. As he had thought, none of the students were smiling at her, and the happy faces had been ruined by the news about Harry Potter becoming a blood thirsty monster. "I'm sure we will all be good, very good friends." Harry heard the Weasley twins mutter 'Not likely', which made quite a few Gryffindors laugh. "The ministry of magic," continued the woman. "has always considered the education of young wizards and witches to be of vital importance. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prohibit practices that ought to be prohibited."
On these last words, she laughed girlishly and went back to sit behind the staff table leaving the Great Hall in stunned silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione saying something to Ron. No doubt, the young witch had understood the meaning of the woman's words. She was going to interfere with Hogwarts in the name of the ministry. Harry felt cool fury wash over him. How dare she interfere on his territory? She had no right and he would make sure she understood that! But it's not my territory and she's from the ministry. Harry's inner voice told him. He forced himself to calm down. Eyes still fixed on the toad-like woman he addressed Neville, his voice as cold and sharp as a blade.
"What did he say her name was?"
"U-Umbridge. Dolores Umbridge." said the boy, shivering under the anger exuding the emerald eyes.
Harry gave no sign of having heard the reply and he continued staring at the woman for a while even after the food had appeared on the tables.
Tensed silence met Harry when he marched through the Gryffindor common room that morning. He had spent the last two days glaring intensely at whoever was whispering at him or drawing back when he came close. Thus, most of the students didn't dare so much as move when he was around. Some of them swore that when he had glared at them his eyes had changed into an animal's eye. Of course, there was a possibility that it did happen; after all, Harry didn't have a mirror in front of him whenever he glared at someone, so he couldn't be sure. It didn't matter though, as the whole school was buzzing with rumours about him anyway, no one would be able to tell if it was true or not.
Harry walked through the corridors gazing coldly at his surroundings. In the two days he had been at Hogwarts, he could not remember a time when he hadn't had his cold mask on. Strangely enough he had grown accustomed to it. It was also very effective. In fact, The Slytherins were the only students who weren't affected by it. But then again, they didn't bother with the rumours.
Today was to be his first class with Dolores Umbridge. Harry surprised himself by looking forward to it. He was pretty sure that he would hate the woman. However, he was also sure they would have an argument some way or another and then Harry would be able to release some of the anger that had been piling up.
The class was completely silent as they entered the classroom, which reminded Harry of her speech in the Great Hall. Umbridge was already there, in her pink cardigan and a black velvet bow on top of her head. For a few seconds Harry thought she was a pink toad with a great fly perched on its head. As he made his way to a far corner of the classroom, he speculated on the chances of him just having a prophetic vision.
"Well, good afternoon!" she said, when finally the whole class had sat down.
A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply, with very unconvinced voice. Harry just stared at her.
"Tut, tut." said professor Umbridge making Harry feel a sudden urge to slap her. "That won't do, now, will it?" Harry couldn't see why: he felt it was perfectly normal that nobody would want to say 'good afternoon' to an overgrown pink toad. "I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge." chanted the class.
Harry was firmly reminded of his primary school years.
"There, now." said Professor Umbridge in a sweet voice which caused Harry to feel slightly sick. "That wasn't too difficult, was it?" The raven haired boy wanted to tell her it had caused a deep pain in his very soul but thought it would be better to observe a little longer. "Wands away and quills out, please."
Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Harry frowned but complied. He shoved his wand inside his bag and pulled out quill, ink and parchment. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, which was a very ugly knitted bag, needless to say, pink, and extracted her own wand. The wand was very similar to its owner: unusually short. She tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:
Defence Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year.
You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."
She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by the 'Course Aims'.
Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
As the room started to fill with the sound of scratching quills on parchment, Harry raised his hand.
"Yes, Mister Potter?" said Professor Umbridge.
"I was just wondering," started the green eyed boy in a seemingly interested voice. "When you say 'theory-oriented', does it mean we will not be performing any magic in class?" he asked.
"That is exact, Mister Potter. We shall be focusing on the sole theory of the spells. I hope you will not raise any objections?" she said sweetly.
Harry recognised the trap for what it was. She was trying to make him angry; instead he plastered a big smile on his face.
"Oh no, not at all!" he replied joyously. "I was simply checking that 'Ministry-approved', indeed meant 'striving to be incompetent'."
He then started dutifully noting the Courses Aims, leaving the Professor gaping at him with pure shock written on her face. Harry heard the distinctive sound of stifled laughter around the room. Professor Umbridge soon recovered from the shock and chose to ignore the insult.
"Has everyone got their copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?" she asked, her voice having lost its initial sweetness.
Silence met her question.
"I think we'll try that again." said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like to reply, 'Yes Professor Umbridge' or 'No, Professor Umbridge'. So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
"Yes, Professor Umbridge." rang through the room.
"Good." said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read 'Chapter One, Basic for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."
Of course, Harry thought there WAS a need to talk. He was about to raise his hand to make a comment when he noticed Hermione's hand already in the air. The girl hadn't even bothered opening her book which was rare; she usually obeyed the teacher's orders. Professor Umbridge was resolutely looking in another direction, so Harry decided to feign concentrating on the reading. It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. At least, Harry thought, once he would have read the chapter he wouldn't need to ever look at it again.
Seeing that half the class was now looking at Hermione's silent attempt to catch her attention, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she couldn't ignore the situation any longer.
"Did you want to ask a question about the chapter, dear?" she asked as if she just noticed her.
"Not about the chapter, no." said Hermione.
"Well, we're reading just now." said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of the class."
"I've got a query about your course aims" said Hermione.
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.
"And your name is?"
"Hermione Granger." said Hermione.
"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully." said the woman in a voice of determined sweetness.
"Well I don't. Is there any reason that we shouldn't be practising the spells?" asked Hermione her voice rising.
"Using defensive spells?" laughed Professor Umbridge. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
"But surely, the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?" continued Hermione.
"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger? Because if you're not, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what 'the whole point' of my class is. You are going to be taught in a secure risk-free way…"
"Surely, you realise that they are trying to prepare us for the future, Hermione?" cut in Harry with the edge of a snicker in his voice.
Hermione as well as the other students stared at him, not sure how they should react. Professor Umbridge also seemed stunned for a few minutes. She had probably noticed the irony behind his words, but as it hadn't been obvious she couldn't say anything.
"I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school." she said trying hard to regain her authority. "But you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this school, very irresponsible indeed – not to mention extremely dangerous half-breeds." she finished with a nasty laugh.
Harry felt anger boil inside him. His magic rose like a cold fire around him and his eyes hardened.
"If you mean Professor Lupin, he was the best teacher we ever had." said Harry in a deathly silent voice.
A collective shiver ran through the room as the temperature seemed to fall. Umbridge gulped but quickly regained her composure and attacked.
"You have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate for your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day…"
"As we are." cut in Harry coldly.
Professor Umbridge made to retort but a glance at the emerald steel of the boy's eyes shut her up.
"Professor Lupin, unlike the cowards of the Ministry, had the courage to consider the possibility of Voldermort's return. He has taught us spells that will be of great help when we are faced with the harsh reality of the world."
Harry's gaze had not left the professor's pale face. His icy voice carried through the room. All the other students seemed transfixed into a kind of fascinated terror.
"Voldemort has returned. War is coming. We will not survive it with theory only."
The silence hung in the room for a while; then Umbridge broke it.
"You have been informed, that a certain dark wizard was at large once again. This is a lie." she said breathing heavily and purposefully avoiding Harry's stare.
"Of course, it is." said Harry causing shock amongst his fellow students. "Cedric Diggory just dropped dead of his own accord."
The raven haired boy watched the toad-like woman who was watching him, deep loathing in her eyes and lips tightly pressed together.
"Oh, no! That's not it, is it?" continued Harry, his voice falsely sweet. "I was the one who killed him wasn't I? Of course it was. After all, it could only be me, the Big-bad-dangerous-half-breed!"
The room gasped and Umbridge turned slightly green. Harry offered her a predatory smirk and leaned back in his chair.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mister Potter. And you will serve detention with me for a month." said Professor Umbridge.
At that moment, the enchanted bell rang, signalling the end of the class. All the students fled the room. Harry soon was the only one left. He slowly put his things back inside his bag, feeling the insistent glare of the Ministry official on his back. He slung his bag on his shoulder and walked towards Professor Umbridge. He ignored the woman's flinch and stopped in front of her.
"With all due respect, Professor; if you ever talk badly of my pack brother again or any other magical creature for that matter; I will make you regret you were ever born." he said quietly.
"Is this a threat, Mister Potter?" asked Professor Umbridge in a shaky voice.
"Yes. It is." said Harry matter-of-factly. "Goodbye Professor." he said as he walked away.
"You're late, Potter!" said Professor Snape as Harry entered the Potions classroom. "I dare say that will earn you a detention." spat the elder man.
"I'm sorry Professor." replied the raven haired boy with all the politeness he could muster. "Professor Umbridge already gave me detention for the month."
Snape raised an eyebrow.
"And why would that be?" he asked.
Harry smirked.
"I contested her opinion concerning Voldemort's return, Sir. Unfortunately, she seems to dislike me." he said a hint of evilness in his eyes.
Snape narrowed his eyes.
"I see. Well that is truly unfortunate, I'm sure." drawled the Potions Master. "Five points from Gryffindor. You may go to your seat, Potter."
Harry raised an eyebrow in silent astonishment. He would have thought Snape would take more points than that and possibly give him detention for the following month. In fact, it was the first time he had seen Snape take less than ten points from a student.
"Thank you, Sir." said Harry.
Maybe they would be able to reach a truce thanks to their common hatred for the Defence Professor. This year might be more interesting than he had expected.