Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter, of course I do - can't you tell from the writing style? I mean, it's not like it's completely different to JK's or anything. She clearly just stole the whole idea from me, I'm not just toying with her character. However, due to legal reasons,, if you see anything in this chapter that is recognisable, it is hers or paraphrased from the Order of the Phoenix book.
Chapter Three
Ron and Hermione, along with the rest of the Gryffindors, were eyeing him warily as he sat down - still cradling his cup of coffee.
"Sorry about that," he muttered. "Ignore them…they're…"
"Baby Death Eaters?" Ron offered. Harry shot the red head a look, before conceding with a wry grin.
"And rather temperamental."
They were still staring at him. So was everyone else; when they weren't gawping at the time travellers. Snape and Dumbledore seemed particularly intent in their observation. Snape's face was twisted into a stony composition, unyielding to any slip of emotion that may shed light on his inner most thoughts. Tunnel black eyes were fixed on him, unwaveringly, with only the slightest glances directed at Tom and Zevi in turn.
Harry tried to enjoy breakfast and the company of Ron and Hermione the best he could under the scrutiny. His nerves were growing fraught though. He couldn't wait for lessons to begin. Which, he soon discovered, was saying something.
A pink, dumpy toad-like woman had rose at the staff table, requesting silence. At breakfast. Nobody made announcements at breakfast, although, he supposed the normal routine of opening feasts had been warped last night so the woman hadn't really had the opportunity. Still. Who was she to be making speeches anyway? She was the new DADA teacher - she had to be. Surely whatever she had to stay could wait for her first lesson?
Which, incidentally, was the first lesson of the day. Gryffindor's and Slytherins. Why was it that those two houses were always paired for the most volatile subjects? DADA, potions, flying…it was like someone was looking to make sparks fly. He sighed softly as the room fell into a slightly bewildered silence.
"Hem hem," the professor coughed, smiling with a saccharine sweetness.
"Well, I must say that it is simply lovely to be back at Hogwarts, and see such happy little friends," her voice tightened barely noticed. "Even though it seems that certain procedures have changed." Her eyes swept over the time travellers edgily. "I hope that we can all be the best of friends, I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all," she smiled. Some students looked away from Harry for the first time, blessedly, to exchange barely concealed smirks and grins.
"I'll be friends with her if I don't have to borrow her cardigan," Parvati whispered to Lavender; leaving them both to lapse into silent giggles.
"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed through careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them for ever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."
Umbridge paused to make a little bow to the other teachers, none of who showed any inclination to return the gesture. Harry saw McGonagall and Sprout exchange significant looks, and glanced at Tom, who's expression was unreadable. The toad continued.
"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged."
Harry felt his blood run cold. Oh no. Ron looked like he was drifting into sleep, his cheek slipping against the palm it was propped against. Hermione looked outraged. The students were all breaking into murmured conversations, and those that didn't remained glassy-eyed. She droned on much to the same vein.
"…intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning where we find practises that ought to be prohibited."
She sat down. Dumbledore clapped, the staff and the students followed. Harry felt a surge of hatred and disgust swell in his chest at the pink clad women. Ron seemed to prop to attention as breakfast slowly continued, though there was now little time left for eating.
"What was that all about?" he mumbled around his bacon. "Did either of you get a word of that? It had to be about the dullest speech I ever heard and I grew up with Percy."
"I think that was the point," Harry muttered darkly. "Students are notorious for not paying attention." For a moment, they both looked at him like he'd grown two heads. He realised that a year ago he would have zoned the whole lecture out as tedious waffle.
"It means, Ronald," Hermione explained through gritted teeth, though she still looked slightly caught off guard. "That the Ministry are interfering with Hogwarts."
He, Ron and Hermione stood outside the Defence classroom. There was a low mumble among the students, that grew hushed as the time travellers approached.
Tom looked rather grim, though Harry figured he might have been imagining it or projecting his own emotions on the other. Tom didn't have as much reason to loathe Umbridge, she seemed to follow the same line of exclusivity for magic as he did. Their eyes met for a moment, but before either of them could speak that annoying, breathy voice called them into the classroom. Tom reached over to snag his arm, yanking him over to the 'Slytherin side' of the room. Ron looked disgruntled. Harry raised his eyebrows. Umbridge was eyeing them both, her lips pursed.
To prove a point, he did sit with Tom, but he made sure they were near the centre of the room and hailed Ron and Hermione to sit in on his other side. He wasn't sure if they looked relieved to not be ditched or unnerved at being so close to the snakes. Tom's lips were curled slightly in amusement and something else.
"Wands away please," Umbridge requested, swishing her own stubby wand at the board. Defence against the dark arts; a return to basic principles.
Harry almost groaned aloud. Not to sound arrogant or anything, but he'd already done his OWLs, he'd trained excessively for a year, he did not need nor desire a return to basic principles. The lessons were going to be vaguely monotonous anyway, now they were going to be the new History of Magic minus the nap option.
Books by Slinkhard were passed around, and course aims appeared upon the board. He skimmed over the text without enthusiasm. Tom had the barest look of disdain of his face that said it all. Harry had a feeling that the young Dark Lord didn't even want to touch their books, let alone study them.
"I want you to read the first chapter, Basics for Beginners. There will be no need to talk."
There was a rustling of pages and he exchanged looks with Tom. Neither he, Harry nor, to Harry's shock, Hermione had even made a move to start the exercise. He didn't think he'd ever seen Hermione neglect to read a book when told. The situation was dire.
His best friend was regarding the professors fixedly, her hand in the air. Silence reigned. Tom was leant back, his eyes appraising the bookworm. For now, at least, he seemed content to see how this would play out in true Slytherin fashion. Harry took a different approach. A bad one, but after a morning of sleep inducing speeches, stress and staring, his temper was more than a little compromised.
"Hangman?" he asked Tom, offering a pen. Umbridge's gaze snapped to him. Tom shot him a reproving look, but his eyes sparkled with ill disguised mirth. The rest of the students all stilled, eager, finding the brewing storm to be a much more interesting subject of perusal than the text…no they couldn't even be called textbooks…murdered trees before them.
"Mr Potter," Umbridge began, simpering.
"Professor," he greeted in return, pleasantly, cutting her off. Her eyes hardened. His Slytherin's appeared both despairing, and highly entertained. Hermione was wide eyed, her hand still frozen in the air.
"Is there a problem?" the professor enquired, her voice definitely holding an edge now. He grinned, lazily.
"Not at all professor, why do you ask?"
"You are not reading," she stated. "Do you find the text too difficult?"
"Yes professor," he replied promptly. "I can't get past the turning pages part, professor. Every time I try I just get this lethargic feeling of doom and exhaustion - it's all just so pointless and boring you see. My self preservation will not allow me to follow your instructions, as it realises the futile incompetence of Slinkard would only drive me to suicide."
Ron was had a look on his face that suggested that he thought Harry had gone mad. Most the class was stifling giggles. Umbridge seemed as if she wanted to murder him.
"Detention," she snapped. Harry widened his eyes innocently.
"What for, professor? I was merely answering your question. I thought you were supposed to help us!"
"Insolence," she spat.
"Ah, yes, that," he mused cheerfully. "I suppose I was rather rude. Don't take it personally. I've been told it's my natural state of being. Well, maybe you should take it personally…." he picked the book up for the first time. "But it's fine, really. I can't discriminate you for being stupid enough not to be able to tell crap from a textbook. I've heard ministry teacher training is appalling…do they even have that?" He paused, scanning the class. "Does anyone know?"
"For a week," Umbridge added, her nostrils flaring. "How dare you -" she spluttered, before sucking in a breath, presumably to calm herself. "Read the first chapter everyone. The next person to speak shall join Mr Potter here in a week long detention."
"Potter Evans," he corrected in a helpful tone of voice.
"Two weeks!" she screeched. The class were muffling their entertainment, into sleeves and the murdered tress. Harry tilted back his chair, folding his arms, unspeaking.
He didn't pick up his book.
And the lesson passed.
Success.
A/N: Chapter three of the rewrite. Do you guys think I should post it as a separate story? Please tell me what you think (of the idea and the chapter - any improvement?)