Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.
Hey all, and thanks for your comments!
To my one reviewer, I'm sorry you have to have an eye operation. Good luck with it, I hope it goes well.
As to how many chapters there will be in this story, I am estimating over 100!
And to another reviewer, I would love to see this fic turned into a movie also! Thanks so much for saying that, it makes me feel great!
As for Sirius being a Defense teacher, I love the idea of it! You never know, I could use it for either sixth or seventh year!
Okay, here's the next chapter!
Chapter 49: Ron Versus Umbridge
The next morning, Harry showered and dressed. It was good to be back at Hogwarts again; he was really glad Sirius and Remus had let him come back. He said good morning to his dormmates, who answered in kind. "How were your summers?" he asked.
"Mine was good," said Dean. "My family and I went to America."
"Cool!" Harry exclaimed. "What was it like?"
"It was awesome," Dean replied. "They have a wizarding school over there too, you know. Salem Institute."
"That's neat," said Harry. "How about your summer, Seamus?"
"Erm ..." said Seamus, looking uncomfortable. "It was all right, except me mam didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts."
"Why not?" asked Ron, sounding surprised.
"Well," said Seamus slowly, "she believes Dumbledore's gone a bit barmy, you know? Spouting all that stuff about You-Know-Who being back."
Harry felt anger bubble up inside him. "She believes Dumbledore and I are lying?" he asked, trying his best to keep his temper under control.
"Yeah, basically," said Seamus.
"And you agree with her?" asked Ron furiously.
"Listen, you've got to understand," pleaded Seamus. "None of us, except your close friends, Harry, know what happened the night Diggory died. You just came back crying, holding his body, claiming You-Know-Who killed him."
"Well, he did," said Harry in a monotone.
"I can't believe you think Harry's lying," said Ron angrily. "He'd never lie about something like that."
"Well, where was your support when he needed it last year? You thought he was lying about the Goblet of Fire," Seamus snapped back.
"That was a low blow, Seamus," said Neville.
Ron said nothing to this, but just glowered at Seamus. "Come on, mate," he said to Harry. "Let's get out of here."
Harry was more than happy to go along with Ron's suggestion. Images of Cedric's lifeless body that terrible night kept flooding back to him, Voldemort's high, cold laughter ringing in his ears. He and Ron walked down the stairs to the common room, where they met Hermione and Ginny. "Harry, what's the matter?" said Ginny at once, looking concerned. "You look really upset."
"And Ron, what's got you so angry?" asked Hermione.
"Seamus thinks Harry's a big fat liar when it comes to You-Know-Who's return," said Ron, still glowering.
"Oh," said Ginny, squeezing Harry's shoulder in comfort. "I'm sorry, Harry."
"Just ignore him, Harry," said Hermione, not wanting to say that Lavender Brown had confronted her about the same thing. "Oh, no," Hermione then exclaimed, staring at the wall in the common room. A sign had been posted there, advertising Fred and George's Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and for anyone who wanted extra gold to help test their products. "We're prefects, Ron," said Hermione importantly. "We'll have to talk to your brothers about that advertisement."
"I'm not getting involved," grumbled Ron. "They can do what they like."
"Ronald!" said Hermione crossly. "We can't let them test their products on students! It's unethical!"
"Oh, whatever," said Ron. He and Hermione bickered about this all the way to the Great Hall.
During breakfast, Dumbledore announced that Remus would be coming to the school a few hours a day to talk to anyone who needed to let out feelings about last year's events. Everyone was happy about him coming back except some of the Slytherins, Draco Malfoy among them.
When Professor McGonnagall handed out timetables, Ron groaned and looked furious again. "We've got the worst day imaginable," he fumed. "Binns, Slughorn, Trelawney, and Umbridge."
"Slughorn might not be that bad," said Hermione soothingly. "And you have no idea what Umbridge'll be like."
"Well, if she waffles on like she did last night," said Ron sullenly, "it'll be unbearable."
After breakfast, they trooped to History of Magic, which was the dullest subject ever taught at Hogwarts. Binns droned on and on about goblin rebellions, causing many members of the class to doze off within seconds. Hermione kept poking Ron in the shoulder, trying to wake him up. Harry, however, was not asleep, but kept having flashbacks to the night of the third task. He'd kept on getting interested looks from other students last night and this morning at breakfast, and was heartily sick of it. He'd had to watch as his big brother was murdered in front of him. Why couldn't people just leave him alone?
After History of Magic, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione went outside for break. There they met Cho Chang, whose face was red and blotchy from crying. "What's the matter, Cho?" Harry asked softly.
"Umbridge," sniffled Cho. "She gave me a really hard time about Cedric. Kept trying to get me to believe that his death was not caused by You-Know-Who."
"What a bitch," said Ron savagely. "See, I told you, 'Mione, she'll be horrible."
"What was the rest of her class like, Cho?" asked Neville, putting an arm around her.
"She just made us read the stupid textbook," said Cho miserably. "And she told us not to talk. There's nothing in the book or the course aims about using defensive spells."
"That is so not right!" exclaimed Ron.
"No, it's not," Cho replied. "When've you got her, you four?"
"This afternoon," said Hermione promptly.
"Oh, joy," said Cho.
The four tried to cheer Cho up for another few minutes, but then it was time for them to go to Potions. With sympathetic looks, they bade her goodbye and went down to the dungeons.
"This'll be interesting," said Neville. "No Snape. I'll probably do better without him around."
"Me, too," agreed Harry.
When they walked into the dungeon, Slughorn was already there, sitting behind his desk. He beamed at Harry and his friends as he saw them.
"Why, hello, hello, hello!" he boomed once everyone had sat down. "As you all know, my name is Horace Slughorn, and I am your new Potions Master. This year is a very important year for you all, for in June you will be taking your O.W.L's. These are examinations that are of extreme importance, because their results will provide you with the sort of careers you should go for after Hogwarts.
"I am very excited to be teaching you all," he said, grinning at Harry and making him flush with embarrassment. "The potion we will be making today is called the Draught of Peace. It is a rather simple potion, and everyone should know how to make it. The instructions are here on the board," he said, flicking his wand and making them appear. "Partner up now, everyone! Begin!"
Harry and Neville partnered up, as did Ron and Hermione. As the lesson passed, Harry and Neville grinned at each other, for they were finding it much easier to complete the potion successfully than they had in Snape's class. There was no overgrown bat looming over them, telling them how bad their potion was and docking points from Gryffindor. Harry looked over at Malfoy, who was partnered with Pansy Parkinson. He had a scowl on his face; it was plain to see that Slughorn was not to his liking.
When the man himself came over to inspect Harry and Neville's potion, he smiled widely. "My predecessor told me you were not good at this," he bellowed. "But my, was he wrong! Excellent, excellent! Potter, your mother was a smashing hit at Potions as well. Extremely talented, she was. Five points to Gryffindor!"
Harry valued this new information about his mother, but wished Slughorn would stop looking at him as though he were a genius. He couldn't wait for the class to be over.
When it was, the four made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. There they met Ginny, who chatted about Care of Magical Creatures. She said Grubbly-Plank was a great teacher.
"She can't be better than Hagrid," said Harry. "Surely."
"She really knows what she's doing, though," said Ginny. "How were your classes?"
"Binns was boring," groaned Ron. "And Slughorn was ... interesting. Won't leave Harry alone, though."
"Just ignore him," said Ginny. "He has to be better than Snape, though."
"Yeah," said Neville. "At least I got my potion right this time."
"Good for you, Neville!" said Ginny proudly. "See, I told you you could do it!"
After lunch, Harry, Ron, and Neville made their way to North Tower for Divination. Harry felt mounting dread; of course Trelawney was probably going to predict his death again.
Sure enough, when they ascended to the classroom, Trelawney gave him a tragic look. The whole lesson was on dreams this time; she explained about how you could predict the future from a dream you had. She handed out a book called The Dream Oracle, and proceeded to tell the class to divide into groups of two and predict each other's futures from their dreams.
Harry didn't want to do this at all. He knew very well what his dream about his big brother's lifeless body meant. But he and Ron managed to make the class amusing by Ron telling Harry what his own dreams had been about. He seemed to know that Harry was reluctant to tell him his.
"You're going to be eaten by the giant squid," declared Harry in a misty voice when Ron explained that last night, he'd dreamed about playing Quidditch. From the desk beside them, Lavender and Parvati glared.
After Divination, they met up with Hermione. With butterflies in their stomachs, they made their way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. When they arrived, Umbridge was already there, sitting at her desk with the fluffy pink cardigan still in place and the bows still adorning her hair.
Once everyone was seated, she trilled, "Good afternoon, class!" There were a few muttered "good afternoons" from some of the students. "Oh, no, no, no!" said Umbridge. "That will not do at all! When I say good afternoon to you all, you will say, "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge!" Okay, let's try that again. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the class replied.
"That's better," said Umbridge sweetly. "All right, wands away and quills out, please."
There were some groans from the class as everyone put their wands away and got out parchment and quills.
Umbridge tapped her own wand to the blackboard, and words appeared there:
Defense Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
"Well, this subject has been rather disrupted over the years, has it not?" said Umbridge in her sweet voice. "The constant changing of teachers has not been a positive thing. Also, many of these teachers have not followed a Ministry-approved curriculum. Fortunately, this problem is now being rectified. Copy down the following, please."
As she tapped the blackboard with her wand again, the first message disappeared and was replaced by:
Course Aims
1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
Once everyone had copied the course aims down, Professor Umbridge asked them if they all had a copy of their textbook. Some nods and mumbles of ascent came from the class, to which Professor Umbridge trilled, "No, no, no, no, no! That is not good enough! When I ask a question, you will answer, "Yes, Professor Umbridge," or "No, Professor Umbridge." Let's try that again. Does everyone have a copy of the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook?"
"yes, Professor Umbridge," the class replied.
"Good," said Umbridge. "I would like you all to read the first chapter, which starts on page five. There will be no need to talk."
Harry opened his book and began to read. The work was extremely dull. A few minutes later, Harry looked up and saw Hermione's hand in the air. Umbridge was completely ignoring her. As the minutes continued to pass, more and more people looked at the scene in front of them.
Eventually, Umbridge turned to Hermione. "You wanted to ask a question about the chapter, dear?" she said as though Hermione had only just raised her hand.
"About the course aims, Professor," said Hermione. "Another student told me this earlier, and she's absolutely right. There's nothing in the course aims about USING defensive magic."
"And your name is?"
"Hermione Granger."
"Well, Miss Granger, you ask me why we aren't USING defensive spells?" said Umbridge with a tiny laugh. "Well, I can't imagine any incident in my classroom which would require you to USE defensive spells. Do you really expect to be attacked during class?"
"We're not going to be using magic at all?" Ron asked loudly.
"Students raise their hands when they want to speak in my class, Mr. ..."
"Weasley," said Ron.
"Right," said Umbridge. Ron raised his hand, but she ignored him. Hermione raised her hand again, and Umbridge said, "Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"
"Yes," said Hermione, straightening up in her chair. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to use defensive magic?"
"Are you a Ministry-trained expert, Miss Granger?" asked Umbridge in her sugary voice.
"No."
"Well, in that case, it is not for you to decide what the "whole point" of any class is," said Umbridge. "For this particular class, you will be learning about defensive spells in a risk-free environment."
"What use is that?" blustered Ron.
"Hand, Mr. Weasley!" Ron once again threw his fist in the air, but Umbridge totally ignored him. "Yes?" she said, turning to Dean. "Your name, please?"
"Dean Thomas," said Dean. "And if we're attacked, it's not going to be in a risk-free way."
"I repeat," said Umbridge, smiling widely, "do you expect to be attacked in my classroom?"
"No, but ..."
Umbridge talked over him. "I don't mean to criticize the way things have been done," she said, "but I hear you have been taught by many incompetent teachers, including a dangerous half-breed!"
Harry felt anger churn inside of him; how dare Umbridge speak about his guardian like that! But he kept himself from speaking out; he didn't want to draw any attention to himself.
"If you mean Professor Lupin," said Ron, "he was the best we ever ..."
"HAND, MR. WEASLEY!" sang Umbridge. "Yes?" she trilled, turning then to Parvati.
"My name's Parvati Patil," said Parvati. "Aren't we supposed to know countercurses and stuff so we can do them on our O.W.L?"
"Yes, Miss Patil, but you will be studying only the theory," said Umbridge. "That will be sufficient for you to be able to perform them correctly on the day of the exam."
"That's not right!" exclaimed Ron, his fist in the air again. "So you mean to tell me, we're not going to be prepared for the real world, for what's waiting out there?"
"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Weasley," said Umbridge quietly.
"Oh yeah?" Ron said sarcastically.
"Yes," said Umbridge. "Who do you think wants to attack children like yourselves?"
Harry felt a burning need to answer this question, but once again, he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Images of Cedric falling plagued his vision as Ron said, "Hmm, let me think. ..." in a mock thoughtful voice. "Well, how about YOU-KNOW-WHO?"
There was a long silence, and Umbridge stared at Ron with a look of satisfaction on her face. "Ten points from Gryffindor," she said sweetly. "Now, let me make one thing clear. You have been told that a certain dark wizard has returned from the dead. This is a lie."
Harry kept his head down and his fists clenched in order not to shout at Umbridge. Ron, however, had no compunctions about doing just that. "It is not a lie!" he roared. "Harry saw him, he fought him!" Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards his friend, but wished at the same time that he'd keep his mouth shut. He didn't want Ron getting into trouble because of him. Unfortunately, Umbridge seemed to have read his thoughts.
"Detention, Mr. Weasley!" she shrilled. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock, in my office. If anyone is telling you fibs about reborn dark wizards, I'd like to hear about it. I'm here to help. I am your friend. Now please, kindly continue your reading."
But Ron, anger seizing a hold of him, had stood up. The whole class gazed at him, Hermione giving him pleading looks. Harry's head was still down, praying that his friend was not going to cause a huge scene.
"So," said Ron, "what about all those Death Eaters who escaped from Azkaban last year?"
"They have no leader, Mr. Weasley," said Umbridge sweetly. "You-Know-Who is a deformed creature. He is not strong enough to lead them. They will not attack anyone without him."
"So according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own free will, then?"
"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic occurance, to be sure, but it was an isolated incident."
"It was You-Know-Who himself who murdered him," said Ron angrily. "Harry saw him return and kill him, and you know it."
Harry felt despair bubble within him. He knew Ron was trying to defend him, but this was the wrong time! He was only going to cause more trouble for him! Please, please, please stop! Harry chanted to himself, once again seeing his big brother's lifeless eyes staring, staring, staring at the sky.
For a moment, it seemed as though Umbridge was going to scream at Ron. But then she said in her softest, sweetest voice, "Come here, Mr. Weasley, dear."
Ron furiously strode to her side. Umbridge got out quill and parchment and scribbled a note on it. "Take this to Professor McGonnagall, dear," she said.
"Fine!" said Ron. "Good riddance!" And with that, he stormed out of the room.
"Well, he won't be back," said Umbridge triumphantly. "Now, please continue your reading. I want no more interruptions."
The class was so shocked, they did just that. Harry went through the rest of the period in a daze. Everywhere he looked, he saw lifeless gray eyes. Everywhere he turned, he heard Voldemort's voice. Once the lesson was over, he stumbled out of the room, Neville and Hermione following. The three had nothing to say to each other; they were still in a shocked stupor after what had happened. What in the world was going to become of Ron?