"This," Minerva said, staring across her desk at Potter, "says you were disrespectful and disruptive, have a clear problem with authority—"
"Umbridge's authority," Potter said unhelpfully, and she pursed her lips.
"—demonstrated an inability to put aside personal issues and grievances that are non-conducive to effective learning, and further encouraged irreverent behaviour from other students in the class." She set aside Dolores' message. "I assume, from your lack of outrage, that this is all true?"
"True enough," Potter said.
"It also says you have detention with her every night for a week, starting tonight." Potter's jaw set, but he only tipped up one shoulder. "Would you like to explain yourself? I was under the impression you understood exactly why Dolores Umbridge is at Hogwarts, and were going to be careful."
"Things change," Potter muttered, then sighed and leaned back in his chair, frowning. "She's not going to teach us to defend ourselves."
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Potter," Minerva said, after a moment. "Is this an opinion of yours, or something she said—"
"Both," Potter said. "Her idea of us protecting ourselves is to call qualified Ministry professionals like Aurors every time we're up against something Dark, and wait for them to come and help."
Minerva opened her mouth, then closed it again:
"I see," she said after a moment. It was not hard to see why such a recommendation would sit poorly with Potter, nor could she find it in herself to blame him; how could she, when he'd been the one who'd had to step up, who'd suffered time and time again because no one—Aurors, or them as teachers, or even an adult who'd completed their schooling—had been able to reach him or help him.
"I couldn't say nothing, Professor," Potter said.
"You could have," Minerva said.
"No," Potter said. "Not when her advice is going to get people killed."
"Encouraging people to fight could get them killed, too," Minerva pointed out gently.
"I don't want to encourage people to fight," Potter said, frowning. "If they don't want to, they shouldn't have to, but they might not have a choice. And if that happens, then they should know how to fight back or get away." He lifted his chin, as if expecting her to disagree.
"And if Dolores Umbridge continues to disagree with you on that, am I to presume you will continue to challenge her?" she asked.
"Someone's got to," Potter said. He seemed a little sorry, though she suspected it was more in anticipation of her disapproval than it was for his attitude toward Dolores. "Though I doubt I'll be the only one."
If it were any of her other students, Minerva would have simply said that was foolish and would not be tolerated and been fairly confident that their trust and respect for her as an authority figure would lead to their compliance, even if it didn't necessarily mean they agreed.
Potter was different.
Potter, in her experience, was never guaranteed to comply with authority even if it was held by someone he trusted and respected—and she thought he did her. Potter liked to understand, expected to, even, since that was how Dumbledore and Black dealt with him. Today, with what was at stake, Minerva needed him to.
She reached for the tartan tin on her desk and slid it toward him.
"Have a biscuit, Potter." Potter stared at it, then her.
"What?"
"A biscuit. Have one." She summoned her teapot, filled it with water, and set it to boil with a tap of her wand. Potter gave the tin a wary look but reached for it, only to struggle one-handed and have to draw his wand. It popped open and he helped himself to a ginger newt. Minerva passed him a steaming cup and box of teabags, then selected her own biscuit.
"I take it I'm not in trouble?" Potter said, choosing a teabag.
"You are with Professor Umbridge," Minerva said crisply.
"But not with you," Potter said.
"Not right now, no," she replied, dunking her teabag.
"I don't suppose you're going to help me get out of detention, then?" Potter asked, a little hopefully. He was still holding both his biscuit and his teabag.
"Absolutely not," Minerva said. "As your teacher, Professor Umbridge is perfectly entitled to discipline you as she sees fit for misbehaving in her classroom." Potter didn't look surprised or even disappointed. "I will not allow her to treat you unfairly, but if you're setting out with the intention of provoking her, Potter, there's nothing I can do."
"Nothing you're willing to do, you mean," Potter said. He cocked his head to the side. "And what if I do—continue to provoke her, I mean? Would I be in trouble then?"
"I would strongly discourage it," Minerva said, pursing her lips.
"That's not a yes," Potter said.
"Do you remember the day Miss Granger punched Mr Malfoy, back in your third year?"
"Yeah," Potter said, and looked absurdly fond. He finally dropped his tea bag into his cup, and gave his biscuit a sniff before taking a tentative bite.
"Do you remember what I told you then?" Minerva dipped her own biscuit into her tea and took a bite.
"Er…" Potter thought for a moment. "I'm pretty sure you took points." She looked down her nose at him. "And… and you said something about me being noticed, I think. About having to set a good example."
Minerva was actually rather pleased that had stuck.
"I did," she said. "And that is more true than ever. You are a fifth year student now, and well known. People still notice you. People watch you—"
"Let them learn something from that for once, then," he said. "Let them see Umbridge for what she is."
"And when they take it upon themselves to emulate you?" She asked. "You understand the very real threat she poses, but others may not and may follow you regardless. Only where you have a reputation and connections which will offer you a small amount of protection—as well as options should those fail—they may not. And regardless of what Professor Umbridge is or isn't teaching them, I assure you they are much safer here at Hogwarts than they would be expelled and wandless."
"So we're supposed to do nothing?" Potter said, looking frustrated for the first time.
"Precisely what do you expect will come from antagonising her, Potter?" Minerva asked, growing a little frustrated herself. "Surely you do not actually believe she will change her opinions and her curriculum simply because you've badgered her enough."
Potter opened his mouth, then closed it, and folded his arms.
"No," he said. "But what about you, and the other teachers? Maybe Dumbledore's hands are tied where the Ministry's concerned, but couldn't you get her to… y'know teach?"
"Given she's here to oversee the quality of our teaching, I very much doubt she'd be receptive to that," Minerva replied tartly. "Nor do I feel it would be wise to push boundaries where she is concerned." Potter had something akin to betrayal on his face, and disappointment in his scent. "Don't look at me like that, Potter—"
"You're a member of the Order," he said, though had the sense to keep his voice down. "You—"
"First and foremost, I am a teacher and a Head of House," she replied crisply. "If the Headmaster is removed from Hogwarts—as the Ministry intends—then his role falls to me, and I must be here to take it on—"
"Surely you don't actually believe she'd let you have Dumbledore's job just because you're the current Deputy," Potter said, in the same tone as she'd used earlier.
"His role, Potter, not his title," she said tiredly, helping herself to another biscuit. She offered him the tin and he took another ginger newt. "Someone must remain to support and care for the students and the other staff. What would happen to Mr Runcorn, for example, if his departure from the Hogwarts grounds was mistimed, and what would happen to the students in the school? How would Severus carry out his responsibilities for the Order if he was having to explain away every absence because there was no one to cover for him here? And at least while we still teach, our students will learn something." Potter frowned as he chewed, but it was thoughtful. "Protection takes many forms," she said. "And this is how I can best offer mine."
"Yeah," Potter said, nodding. "Okay." He frowned again, apologetic this time: "But… that doesn't change the fact that no one here's learning any defensive magic—"
"And why should the only place a student can learn defensive magic be Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons?" Minerva asked exasperatedly. Potter blinked and then frowned; he smelled like he was thinking hard. "Plenty of the other subjects we teach here at Hogwarts can have defensive applications," she continued.
"I— yeah…" Potter gave her a considering look but when she arched an eyebrow, did not elaborate on whatever he was thinking. "Can I go?"
"You may," she said, after a moment of studying him back; she decided not to press for an explanation. "As long as you promise me you will take this seriously, Potter."
"I will," Potter said. "I am." He smiled in a way she thought he intended to be reassuring. It wasn't particularly, not when the smile was all Black, all grim resolve. Minerva sighed and shook her head.
"Do not forget your detention tonight," she said, "or any other night this week, for that matter. Seven o'clock, Potter."
"Was starting to worry McGonagall might've killed you," Ron said casually as Harry sat beside him and opposite Draco at the Gryffindor table. Though his tone was light, he gave Harry a careful once over and relaxed, though only a little; his shoulders still looked tight, and there was a rather angry set to his mouth.
"Nah," Harry said. "I think she wanted to, at times, but she was pretty good about it, actually. We had tea and biscuits." He grinned at the disbelieving look on Ron's face, then glanced around. "Where's Hermione?"
"Library," Draco said, turning the page of his Potions textbook.
"What for?" Harry asked.
"Didn't ask," Ron said. "You wouldn't have either, if you'd seen her." He looked at Harry again and shook his head. "Biscuits… The only person I've ever known to get biscuits from McGonagall is Ginny, and that was when they were having those check-ins after the Chamber and she was really… Though, I s'pose you probably weren't too happy when you showed up."
"I'm all right, actually," Harry said. Ron stared at him and then laughed. It was a rueful sound:
"I'm glad one of us is, then," he said. "Because I'm not, and Hermione's not—"
"I am," Draco said. "Granted, I didn't learn anything about Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I still learned something—"
"That Umbridge is a complete cow?" Ron suggested darkly.
"Not just that, but she's a complete cow who doesn't want to risk upsetting my father by upsetting me," Draco said. "So at the very least, you can all live vicariously through me and the things I can get away with saying to her."
"Are you taking suggestions?" Ron asked. "Because I've got a few things I think she needs to hear, and if you can do it it'll save me a detention or two—"
"Or seven," Harry said.
"Seven?" Draco asked, humour gone. "Is that what you've got, Potter? Seven detentions?"
"A week's worth," Harry said grimly.
"Including the weekend?" Ron asked. Harry nodded. "That b—"
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't finish that sentence," Cedric said, coming to stand just behind Draco so he could look at Ron and Harry. "I'd be obliged to take points for you talking poorly about a member of Hogwarts' staff, even though I personally think it was going to be a completely justified descriptor." The irritation and indignance that had been forming on Ron's face twisted into a grin, and Cedric grimaced:
"Had her second lesson. And obviously you've had her…"
"Yeah, last," Harry said.
"It's a joke," Cedric said, putting a hand beside Draco on the table so he could lean forward. "The Ministry knows he's back—they've acknowledged it—but they're not doing anything to fight him themselves, and they're trying to remove the best protection we have—" Cedric looked up to the Heads table, at Dumbledore's chair. It was empty—as were all the other staff seats—since dinner wouldn't start for another half hour, but it seemed a bit like an omen. "—without providing an alternative, or teaching us how to properly defend ourselves. I stuck around after the lesson to talk to her about it—not quite so bluntly, of course—she essentially told me that the Ministry knows best and the Ministry's in charge here now, and told me that if I want to keep my badge I'd best go back to being Hogwarts' Champion as opposed to Dumbledore's Champion." Harry felt a surge of fondness for Cedric Diggory, who frowned at him. "Why are you smiling? There's no way you're any happier about this than I am—"
"Hi, Cedric," Ginny said, sliding in beside Ron only to immediately lean around him to see Harry.
"Hi, Ginny, nice to see you too," Ron muttered. Ginny ignored him.
"Apparently you declared yourself a Dark wizard in Defence," she said, looking at Harry.
"Potter a Dark wizard?" Cedric asked incredulously, as Draco started to laugh.
"I— that's not exactly what happened," Harry muttered, though he could see how what he'd said could have been interpreted that way. "Where'd you hear that?"
"Bathroom," Ginny said. "Some of the Slytherin girls from your year were talking about it at the mirrors—seemed to think it was funny."
"You say that like it's not," Draco said, mouth twitching.
"It is a little," Ginny conceded, "and they run in circles who have it on very good authority that it's not true… but it's a dangerous rumour." She tugged at her left shirt sleeve and Harry immediately understood the insinuation; if anyone were to catch sight of his Mark before Bill could remove it, the rumours about him being Dark would be considered confirmed, and they'd stick. "How bad was the rest of it?"
"Awful," Ron said darkly. "We lost about fifty points and Harry's got detention for a week."
"A week?!" Cedric looked both horrified and impressed. "Merlin, Potter, what did you say?"
By the time Harry, Ron, and Draco had recounted the lesson to Cedric and Ginny, the Hall had started to fill with students ready for an early dinner, rather than just those who'd opted to stay downstairs—mostly Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Hermione came in with Padma and Terry—who must also have been in the library—but split away and beelined for them as soon as she spotted them.
"Hello, Cedric," she said, making Ron groan and throw his hands up. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, then her eyes continued on to Harry. "Was Professor McGonagall—"
"Gave me tea and biscuits and told me to take this seriously," Harry said wryly. Hermione smiled a little at the word biscuit.
"Are she and the other teachers going to do anything?" Cedric asked. "Professor Sprout said there wasn't much she could do, but McGonagall's part of the Order—"
"She'll make sure we're treated fairly," Harry said, "but otherwise she can't do much. Or won't do much; she can't risk getting sacked."
"S'pose someone's got to hold Hogwarts together once Dumbledore's gone," Ron muttered.
"Yeah, that's pretty much what she said," Harry said.
"We're on our own then," Hermione said briskly. She didn't sound particularly surprised. "I double checked what Umbridge said about having to attend Defence until we've sat our O.W.L.s and she's right." Hermione made a face, like saying so tasted bad. "And then I looked into O.W.L.s to see if there's any way we might be able to sit them early—"
"You want to sit your O.W.L.s early?" Ron asked. "Who are you and what've you done with Hermione?"
"If it meant getting out of her lessons, I'd sit them tomorrow," Hermione sniffed. "I doubt I'd get the grades I want, but I very much doubt I'm going to get them from reading Defensive Magical Theory either, and I suppose there's always the chance to make it up at N.E.W.T. level."
"Blimey," Ron said, staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. Cedric, too, looked rather shocked.
"I didn't realise you could sit O.W.L.s outside of Hogwarts," Draco said.
"Of course you can," Hermione said. "How do you think homeschooled students do it? That's what Matt did—he never came to Hogwarts, he just learned from Remus."
"Could you sit them tomorrow?" Harry asked.
"No," Hermione sighed. "O.W.L.s can be sat at the Ministry in late August, in December, and in March, and then at Hogwarts in June—"
"Plenty of time to get ready if they're not until December," Harry said. "We could practice like we did for the Tournament last year. Teach each other." Why should the only place a student can learn defensive magic be Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, McGonagall had said, and though she'd meant it differently than Harry'd taken it, it didn't change the fact that she'd been right.
"That's actually what I came over here to talk to you about, Potter, before we got sidetracked," Cedric said. "I'm not keen to sit my N.E.W.T.s early—" He smiled at Hermione. "—but I do want to pass them, and I also don't want to die the second I leave school… or anytime before then, for that matter." Cedric was silent, and Harry could smell that he was trying to figure out how to word what came next: "The training we did at headquarters over the summer was brilliant. If Lupin—or Black, or anyone, really— could… I don't know, run a session in Hogsmeade, or… Merlin, even just give instructions through the Floo while we practice in our common rooms, that'd be worth it."
"I'd actually landed somewhere similar," Hermione said. "But we're going to want to train more regularly than on Hogsmeade weekends, and I expect Umbridge will be watching the Floos for exactly this sort of thing so I don't think we can rely on Sirius or Remus… And Remus can't leave the house anyway." She glanced fleetingly at Harry, then at Cedric, then bit her lip. "I hadn't really factored in anyone but the four of us—and maybe Ginny if she wanted the extra training—but I was going to suggest we train ourselves, but that Harry takes the lead, since Defence is sort of your—"
Harry laughed and Hermione winced.
"It's not a bad idea, mate," Ron said.
"No," Harry said, and Hermione relaxed at his tone. "It's not. I was going to suggest we start training again like we did for the Tournament but maybe not just us this time. We can bring in Order members for sure, assuming they want to, so that's us and Fred and George… but Umbridge isn't going to teach anyone anything useful, and that's the real problem, isn't it? We do have the Order, and we know what we're up against, but what about people like Blaise? Or Luna? Or Runcorn?"
"You want to open it up," Hermione said.
"I mean, yeah," Harry said.
"We can't teach the whole school, though," Ron said.
"Not unless Granger could get her hands on another timeturner," Draco said, and Cedric glanced between them, amusement morphing into disbelief when he seemed to realise they weren't joking.
"Should've thought to grab one when I was in the Department of Mysteries," Harry sighed. Ginny snorted. "Point is, if people want to learn and the Ministry's not going to let them… we should."
"Would you want to sit O.W.L.s early, then?" Hermione asked, a little timidly. "Or should I shelve that—"
"I will, if I can," Harry said; if he passed, he'd have more time to work with Dumbledore and the Order on finding and hopefully destroying horcruxes, which was a much better use of his time anyway. Hermione beamed at him. "You two?"
"We're going to be studying with you lot anyway, so we might as well," Ron said, after sharing a look with Draco. "And if it gets me out of lessons with Umbridge, I'm in."
"And a curriculum?" Cedric asked.
"It'll have to combine O.W.L. and N.E.W.T level content if it's going to be useful to us as well as you and the twins," Hermione said thoughtfully. "And we'll need things for the younger years, I suppose…"
"As long as it's practical," Ginny said. Harry nodded.
"I reckon we've already got half a curriculum," Ron said. He glanced at Draco again and his grin was sly. "Apparition and portkeys, countercurses, wandless magic… instant communication—probably patronus messages like the Order use, assuming we're able to actually cast them."
"Sure," Ginny said. "But don't forget duelling and a mix of offensive and defensive spells."
"Yeah, and some of the shielding and elemental stuff we did last year," Ron said.
"We'll need some stuff about the sorts of creatures Voldemort uses. Werewolves—" Harry grimaced, unable to believe what was coming out of his mouth; he thought back to how angry he'd been with Mad-Eye back in third year for teaching them how to hurt a werewolf, and here he was proposing the exact same thing. "—since the pack's sided with him, and dementors, and inferi and things."
"Basic Occlumency might not be a bad idea," Draco said.
"And throwing off the Imperius curse," Hermione said. She chewed her lip. "Though I suppose that means one of us is going to have to cast the Imperius curse, which is properly illegal—"
"It's all right," Harry said, "I'm already a Dark wizard, remember?" He grinned as the others let out various snorts, sniggers, and giggles. "We should cover healing, too."
"This could be brilliant," Cedric breathed, looking around at them all. "Assuming we can actually find someone to teach all of that."
"Harry can do most of it," Hermione said. "Or at least knows enough to get us started."
"All right," Cedric said slowly. He looked impressed, but less surprised than Harry had expected. "Then we'll just need somewhere we can go to do all this, which is going to be easier said than done. I remember how hard it was to find somewhere to practice for the Tournament…"
Harry swapped looks with the others:
"We've got that covered too," Ron said after a moment. "It's—"
"Shh," Hermione said.
A hush fell over the Hall as conversations softened or stopped entirely; the teachers were drifting in en-masse—which probably meant there'd been a staff meeting. Umbridge was with them, and her eyes did a sweep of the patchily occupied House tables before they found Harry.
Around Harry, Draco's face went politely neutral, Hermione attempted something similar but her eyes were angry, Ron was outright scowling, and Ginny seemed to be taking Umbridge's measure. Cedric straightened and made a we'll talk later sort of face, then strode off to Hufflepuff; knowing he was friendly with Harry probably wouldn't do him any favours in her eyes, and while he clearly disapproved of Umbridge, Harry didn't think he was ready to outwardly antagonise her.
Umbridge took in their reactions and smiled; it was both dangerous and a little smug.
Harry looked her in the eyes and smiled right back.