Chapter 18:

"It's no surprise he'd get nicer." Alicia muttered to the two as they proceeded up the stairs. "I bet something about the Order… probably learning of Sirius, has made him nastier." she muttered.

"Still that seemed more unfair than usual." Hermione thought as they entered the Great Hall.

The three spotted Harry and moved over to him to join him as he'd already began eating his lunch. The ceiling had turned an even murkier grey during the morning. Rain was lashing the high windows.

"That was really unfair," said Hermione consolingly, sitting down next to Harry and helping herself to shepherd's pie. "Your potion wasn't nearly as bad as Goyle's, when he put it in his flagon the whole thing shattered and set his robes on fire."

"Yeah, well," said Harry, glowering at his plate, "since when has Snape ever been fair to me?"

Neither of the others answered; all three of them knew that Snape and Harry's mutual enmity had been absolute from the moment Harry had set foot in Hogwarts. There was no point as to consoling the boy as it didn't change anything.

"I did think he might be a bit better this year," said Hermione in a disappointed voice. "I mean… you know…" She looked carefully around; there were half a dozen empty seats on either side of them and nobody was passing the table. "… Now he's in the Order and everything."

"I don't think that changes anything." Alicia said as she poked at her pie.

"Poisonous toadstools don't change their spots," said Ron sagely. "Anyway, I've always thought Dumbledore was cracked trusting Snape, where's the evidence he ever really stopped working for You-Know-Who?"

"I think Dumbledore's probably got plenty of evidence, even if he doesn't share it with you, Ron," snapped Hermione.

"Oh, shut up, the pair of you," said Harry heavily, as Ron opened his mouth to argue back. Hermione and Ron both froze, looking angry and offended. Alicia sighed, closing her eyes "Can't you give it a rest?" he said. "You're always having a go at each other, it's driving me mad." And abandoning his shepherd's pie, he swung his schoolbag back over his shoulder and left them sitting there.

The two were silent for a minute as they watched him go.

"He's got to stop doing that." Hermione said turning to Ron

"What?" he asked

"Taking his anger out on us. It's not our fault how people are treating him." she believed and she gave him an expected look "Tell him." she said

"Why?"

"Cause it's true!" Hermione snapped.

"Yeah well you two arguing every few seconds over silly little things like toadstools is not helping." Alicia butted in and they turned to her. "How do you expect him to feel? And who else is he going to take his anger out on? If Dumbledore was ignoring you, everyone was whispering behind your back, calling you a lier, thinking you're an attention seeker and more you'd burst every second as well." she admitted

"But it's not fair…" Hermione began

"Since when is anything fair to Harry?" Alicia offered

"You're doing alright." Ron believed

"No. I'm waiting for Quidditch, where I can bash everyone's heads in." Alicia hissed before she too got up and stormed from the Great Hall, being watched by many people eating their lunch.

"Hey," Alicia came to a sudden stop as she saw Ginny, Michael and Anthony entering the Great Hall.

"Oh, hey."

"What's up?" Ginny asked her looking worried

"Oh we just had Potions." Alicia shrugged "Usual." as they looked understanding, annoyed by the thought. "I've got to get to Arithmancy, I'll talk to you later." she waved as she walked around them and then up the stairs to continue to her classroom.

Alicia said very little to Hermione in Arthimancy, the girl however glanced at her several times as they took their notes and listened. They walked in silence to Defence Against the Dark Arts and then sat beside one another within the classroom, others sitting around them. The two boys appeared from Divination and sat on Alicia's left beside one another.

The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew yet how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled "Good afternoon," in reply.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her.

Alicia already hated her, she was treating them like five years olds. Why would they want to greet her?

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? 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. Alicia did as she was told, glancing at Umbridge as she did so. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and 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 O.W.L. 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:

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.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she said, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you 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, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Alicia didn't move and she just stared at the women as Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all with those pouchy toad's eyes.

Everyone else removed their books and opened their pages. Alicia turned to Hermione beside her.

"Have you read it?" she mouth and Hermione nodded before nodding to the blackboard.

"Theory?" Hermione mouth back and Alicia pulled a face before turning to the blackboard. She glanced at Hermione and nodded her head as Hermione had. Hermione responded by simply raising her hand into the air and staring at Professor Umbridge. The two saw Harry turned to them surprised and both shook their heads as Hermione waited. Professor Umbridge however, looked in a different direction and seemed to be ignoring Hermione, who stared at her waiting.

After several more minutes had passed, however, Harry was not the only one watching Hermione. The chapter they had been instructed to read was so tedious that more and more people were choosing to watch Hermione's mute attempt to catch Professor Umbridge's eye than to struggle on with "Basics for Beginners."

When more than half the class were staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, as though she had only 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 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 Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.

"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "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?"

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron ejaculated loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. — ?"

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.

Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Harry, Alicia and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice.

"No, but —"

"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way —"

"Since when is there any risk within a controlled classroom?" Alicia demanded looking at the women harshly.

"Hand, Miss Evans."

"Miss Potter." Alicia corrected and everyone looked at her either sternly, doubtfully or muttered to one another, a few even looks surprised by Alicia's sudden confidence in the words, as Umbridge stared at her for a minute, pursing her lips.

"What use is that?" said Harry loudly, stealing Umbridge's gaze. "If we're going to be attacked it won't be in a —"

"Hand, Mr. Potter!" sang Professor Umbridge.

Harry thrust his fist in the air. Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him again, but now several other people had their hands up too.

"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge said to Dean.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Dean. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free —"

"I repeat," said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"No, but —"

Professor Umbridge talked over him.

"I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed — not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

Alicia gave the women a deadly look, so much so that Hermione nudged her, giving her a stern look to discontinue her disapproval.

"If you mean Professor Lupin," piped up Dean Thomas angrily, "he was the best we ever —"

"Hand, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying — you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day —"

"No we haven't," Hermione said, "we just —"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"

Hermione put up her hand; Professor Umbridge turned away from her.

"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you —"

"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" said Dean Thomas hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads —"

"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" trilled Professor Umbridge. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?" she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.

"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," said Professor Umbridge dismissively.

"Without ever practicing them before?" said Parvati incredulously.

"Theory cannot have us practicing the wand movements required correctly!" Alicia said strongly

"Hand, Miss Evans!"

"Potter!" Alicia snapped back again.

"Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?" Parvati continued

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough —"

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" said Harry loudly, his fist in the air again.

Professor Umbridge looked up.
"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.

"School's supposed to prepare us for the real world!" Alicia believed, her hand was in the air as she spoke and Umbridge looked from her to Harry as he spoke again.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."

"Oh yeah?" said Harry. His temper, which seemed to have been bubbling just beneath the surface all day, was reaching boiling point.

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.

"Hmm, let's think…" said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice as he turned to Alicia who looked just as frustrated with the toad-like women.

"Maybe Lord Voldemort?" they two of them chorused.

Ron gasped; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, Miss Evans."

"Potter!"

"Another ten points." Umbridge said turning to Alicia who was fuming.

The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry and Alicia.

"Now, let me make a few things quite plain." Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned toward them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk. "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead —"

"He wasn't dead," said Harry and Alicia angrily, "but yeah, he's returned!"

"Mr.-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."

"It is not a lie! Who the hell gives you the right to say that?!" Alicia snapped angrily, actually on her feet as Harry shouted "It is NOT a lie! I saw him, Alicia and I fought him!" he pointed to the girl.

"Detention, Mr. Potter! Miss Evans!" said Professor Umbridge triumphantly as Alicia corrected her again angrily. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners.' "

Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk again. Harry, however, stood up beside Alicia, who didn't move. Everyone was staring at him; Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated.

"Harry, no!" Hermione whispered in a warning voice. "Alicia," Hermione tired but the girl ignored him.

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?" Harry asked, his voice shaking.

There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night that Cedric had died. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," she said coldly.

"And Accident!?" Alicia snapped "How the hell does someone just die accidentally?"

"It was murder," said Harry. He was shaking in his anger. "Voldemort killed him, and you know it."

"What else could have caused such a tragedy?" Alicia demanded "Are you going to say it was an accident that rogue dementors had attacked Harry over the summer?" and the entire class gasped as they looked at the twins. Many looked frightened at the concept. "I expect next you'll start to pretend that didn't happen as well. As well as the fact that the Ministry held an entire criminal trial in front of the entire Wizengamot for defending himself in such a situation."

Professor Umbridge's face was quite blank as many of the class were looking at each other surprised that such an event had occurred, with no news being expressed about it. Hermione and Ron were looking at the two, also surprised Alicia had brought up the event.

The twins just stared at the women and for a moment it looked like Professor Umbridge was going to scream at the two of them. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear. Miss Evans." Harry kicked his chair aside and strode around Ron and up to the teachers desk. Alicia didn't move. Everyone was holding their breath as they watched the two.

Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink, and started scribbling, hunched over so that Harry could not see what she was writing. Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that he could not open it.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear," said Professor Umbridge, holding out the note to him. "Miss Evans." again Alicia didn't move. "I asked you dear to come here."

"No. You asked Miss Evans to. If you wish for me to comply I'd appreciate it if you'd address me correctly." she said strongly, her eyes angry and hard.

"Miss Evans," Umbridge began again but Alicia still didn't move. Umbridge watched her and her eyes held a certain edge in which it could been seen that her patients was wearing thin. Instead of addressing Alicia properly, Umbridge simply wrote out another pink piece of paper and then she herself got up from her seat and walked to Alicia, handing her the letter. "Accompany Mr Potter, Miss Evans." she said and Alicia glared at her toad-like face.

Harry, whether in his anger or in worry for his sister of some sort, grabbed Alicia and pulled her from the room as he left without saying a word or looking at anyone. He slammed the door behind him and Alicia shrugged her arm from his grip.

Neither of them said a word as they walked quickly down the corridor, their footsteps being the only sound around them.

Unfortunately, they walked slap into Peeves the Poltergeist, a wide-faced little man floating on his back in midair, juggling several inkwells.

"Why, it's Potty Wee Potter!" cackled Peeves, allowing two of the inkwells to fall to the ground where they smashed and spattered the walls with ink; Harry jumped backward out of the way with a snarl.

"Get out of it, Peeves."

"Oooh, Crackpot's feeling cranky," said Peeves, pursuing Harry along the corridor as Alicia grabbed his arm and just pulled him along ignoring the poltergeist. Harry leered as he zoomed along above him. "What is it this time, my fine Potty friend? Hearing voices? Seeing visions? Speaking in" — Peeves blew a gigantic raspberry — "tongues?"

"I said, leave me ALONE!" Harry shouted but Alicia turned around and flicked her wand. A giant gust of wind blew from it and Peeves went flying down the corridor with a shout as Alicia's expression was murderous.

A door to their left flew open after Harry's shout and Professor McGonagall emerged from her office looking grim and slightly harassed.

"What on earth are you shouting about, Potter?" she snapped looking at them both "Why aren't you both in class?"

"We've been sent to see you," said Harry stiffly.

"Sent? What do you mean, sent?"

Both of them held out the notes from Professor Umbridge. Professor McGonagall took it from them, opening Harry's first with a frown. She slit it open with a tap of her wand, stretched it out, and began to read. Her eyes zoomed from side to side behind their square spectacles as she read what Umbridge had written, and with each line they became narrower.

She opened the other before turning to them.

"Come in here, Potter."

They both followed her inside her study. The door closed automatically behind him.

"Well?" said Professor McGonagall, rounding on him. "Is this true?"

"Is what true?" Harry asked, rather more aggressively than he had intended. "Professor?" he added in an attempt to sound more polite.

"Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umbridge?"

"Yes," said Harry and Alicia.

"You called her a liar?"

"Yes."

"You told her He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?"

"Yes."

Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk, frowning at Harry and at Alicia, the girl of which had her arms crossed.

Then she said, "Have a biscuit, Potter."

"Have — what?"

"Have a biscuit," she repeated impatiently, indicating a tartan tin of cookies lying on top of one of the piles of papers on her desk. "And sit down."

Alicia sat down but did not touch a biscuit. Harry sank into a chair opposite Professor McGonagall and beside Alicia, helping himself to a Ginger Newt.

Professor McGonagall set down Professor Umbridge's notes and looked very seriously at the two.

"Potter, you both need to be careful."

Alicia rose an eyebrow as Harry swallowed his mouthful. Professor McGonagall's tone of voice was not brisk, crisp or stern, it was low and anxious, somehow much more human than usual.

"Misbehaviour in Dolores Umbridge's class could cost you much more than House points and a detention."

"What do you — ?"

"Potter, use your common sense," snapped Professor McGonagall, with an abrupt return to her usual manner. "You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting."

The bell rang for the end of the lesson. Overhead and all around came the elephantine sounds of hundreds of students on the move.

"It says here she's given you both detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said, looking down at Umbridge's note again.

"She only said tomorrow!" Alicia returned frustratedly

"Every evening this week!" Harry repeated, horrified. "But, Professor, couldn't you — ?"

"No, I couldn't," said Professor McGonagall flatly.

"But —"

Alicia didn't bother to argue but slumped in her seat.

"She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will go to her room at five o'clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember: Tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge."

"I was just angry she didn't address me properly. She cannot deny who I am, all of the Ministry knows about that… most of them anyway." Alicia said

"But I was telling the truth!" said Harry, outraged. "Voldemort's back, you know he is, Professor Dumbledore knows he is —"

"For heaven's sake, Potter!" said Professor McGonagall, straightening her glasses angrily (she had winced horribly when he had used Voldemort's name). "Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It's about keeping your head down and your temper under control!" Professor McGonagall looked at Alicia, she knew better than anyone her temper flared more than Harry's.

She stood up, nostrils wide and mouth very thin, and he stood too.

"Have another biscuit," she said irritably, thrusting the tin at him.

"No, thanks," said Harry coldly.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped.

He took one.

"Thanks," he said grudgingly.

"Didn't you listen to Dolores Umbridge's speech at the start-of-term feast, Potter?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah…she said… progress will be prohibited or… well, it meant that… that the Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Hogwarts."

"And that it seems Umbridge is actually trying to limit our abilities for some reason."

Professor McGonagall eyed Harry for a moment, then sniffed, walked around her desk, and held open the door for him.

"Well, I'm glad you listen to Hermione Granger at any rate," she said, pointing him out of her office.