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This story is a collaboration work between Avoranger and Cal the Wandcrafter!
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"Harry," Daphne's voice whispered like a caress, her words coated with saccharine sweetness. Her smile stretched wide, encompassing the expanse of a Quidditch pitch. It was a smile Harry knew intimately, the one that had ensnared him from the very first moment he laid eyes upon her. Unbeknownst to his brain, his heart began to gallop within his chest, a wild stallion breaking free.
Yet, Harry's senses jolted him, and he cast a scrutinising gaze upon Daphne Greengrass, a mere fifteen summers young. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, attempting to regain his composure. He vigorously shook his head, as if physically dispelling the impish thoughts that swirled around Daphne, and took a deep breath, drawing in courage and steadying his racing pulse.
Meanwhile, Daphne couldn't suppress the trace of a playful smirk that danced upon her lips, tickled by Harry's flustered reaction. "Oh, what a pity," she lamented, her voice tinged with a forlorn melody. "I've already extended an invitation to Astoria and Draco for a delightful double date. I know how much you wanted to introduce Draco to Mission Impossible."
Harry remained in a daze, his mind a tempest of confusion and disbelief. Daphne fought to restrain a giggle, finding amusement in his bewildered countenance. She shrugged nonchalantly, her movements graceful, and turned to leave, hoping to sweep this encounter beneath the cloak of awkwardness. However, Harry's hand, strong and determined, reached out and captured her wrist, halting her in her tracks.
"Daphne! You're... you're here? How?" Harry's words stumbled out, his surprise evident in his wide-eyed gaze. He couldn't believe his eyes—it was as if he were seeing a ghost. But there she stood, unmistakably Daphne. His mind swirled with a whirlwind of emotions, struggling to make sense of her presence. Wasn't she supposed to be safe in the future? Was this some sort of illusion?
Daphne spun around, glancing around nervously to ensure they were alone and no one was listening in. "Harry, quickly, come with me!" she urged, her voice tinged with urgency. She pulled him into an empty carriage, casting a few protective charms before securing the door. Alone at last, the tension in the air seemed palpable.
Harry couldn't hold back any longer, and he pulled Daphne into a passionate kiss, surprising even himself with the intensity of his longing. They clung to each other as if afraid to let go, caught up in the whirlwind of emotions that had been building between them.
"How is this possible?" Harry finally gasped as they broke apart, his eyes locked onto Daphne's, searching for any hint that this might not be real. He held her hand tightly, as if afraid she might vanish if he let go.
"It's really me, Harry," Daphne reassured him, her smile soft and genuine. "I'm your Daphne."
"But you should… the explosion… how are you here?!" Harry protested, his voice choked with emotion. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, trying to process everything.
Daphne's expression softened, and she reached up to cup his face tenderly. "It's hard to explain, but somehow, we both survived the explosion," she explained, her voice filled with wonder. "It's nothing short of a miracle, I know."
Harry's eyes widened, still struggling to wrap his head around the inexplicable turn of events. "How... how is that even possible?" he wondered aloud, yearning for answers that seemed beyond comprehension.
Daphne's expression turned serious as she spoke. "Harry, I messed up big time. Remember that evidence I took from the Unspeakable department a few days ago? Well, turns out it was a half-repaired time turner just lying around outside the experimentation areas. I completely forgot to put it in the evidence room for the upcoming disciplinary hearing. And you won't believe it, but it was still in my purse when the bomb went off. If only I hadn't forgotten, we wouldn't be in this mess right now."
Harry's grip tightened around her hand, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Don't worry about it, Daph. We have each other now. I can't believe it," he whispered, burying his face in her hair. "I thought I lost you forever."
Daphne hugged him back, tears streaming down her face. "But we're together now, Harry," she whispered. "That's all that matters."
"It's not your fault, Daphne," Harry said sympathetically, looking into her eyes, but couldn't stop the teasing smile that graced his face. "Even the most diligent people can get forgetful when they're exhausted. Maybe those all Aurors you called lazy were just tired too."
Daphne managed a half-smile and playfully swatted Harry's shoulder. "Don't compare me to them, please!" she protested.
Harry chuckled, but his expression quickly turned serious again. "Honestly, I thought all this time travel stuff was just some prophecy Boy-Who-Lived nonsense," he admitted. "I'm just relieved it wasn't my fault this time."
Daphne nodded, her blonde hair falling around her face. "I don't know exactly what the Department of Mysteries is planning with the time turners," she said thoughtfully. "But I do know they've been working on them again."
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. "But I thought they promised never to make them again!" he exclaimed.
Daphne shrugged. "I guess they changed their minds."
There was a moment of silence as Harry absentmindedly drew circles with his finger on the back of Daphne's hand. "Damn I hate time turners… Where did you even find it?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.
"I came across it in Unspeakable Hudson's cubicle, if my memory serves me correctly. I hadn't managed to find out his true name yet - you know how the Unspeakables are, incredibly mysterious and fixated on their code names. He was deeply engrossed in carving something onto the time-turner, although I couldn't make out what it was. When I approached him, he almost dropped the carving tool and let go of the time-turner. Acting on instinct, I quickly cast a summoning charm to grab it before it could fall." she paused and adjusted herself into Harry's arms, snuggling her head against his shoulder. "After briefly suspending it in mid-air, I secured it inside an evidence bag and stowed it in my satchel. This particular time-turner, though... it was larger than the usual ones," she recalled, reminiscing about the item she had seized. "I believe it may have reacted differently to the explosives," Daphne interjected, making an educated guess.
"What do you mean? I saw plenty of them explode and shatter during the end of 5th year at the Department of Mysteries, and they simply turned to dust. This time-turner didn't seem to do anything like that?" Harry replied sceptically.
"Oh, I remember my father telling me a story about that. He used to mock the Unspeakables relentlessly for it." She paused and attempted a poor imitation of her father. "'How could they let an outsider effortlessly infiltrate their department? Only IA has the authority to make sudden, unexpected moves, and they throw a fit every time we try it!' He couldn't believe what you pulled off for weeks."
Harry's eyes widened as he looked at his companion with newfound respect. "I had no idea your father was also in Internal Affairs!" he exclaimed.
Cyrus Greengrass, known to Harry as a staunch politician with conservative values and a sharp business mind, had once confided in him about a fateful encounter with the Dark Lord himself. Voldemort had attempted to recruit Cyrus into his ranks, promising him power and prestige beyond his wildest dreams. For a moment, Cyrus had been tempted by the allure of ultimate power, but he ultimately decided that there were more important things in life than ruling through violence. As a shrewd businessman, Cyrus knew that the wizarding world depended on a functioning economy in order to thrive. He believed that if he were to throw his lot in with Voldemort, the resulting chaos would destroy the economic sector, and ultimately lead to the collapse of British wizarding society. And so he had refused the Dark Lord's offer, at great personal risk.
Surprisingly, Voldemort had not immediately killed Cyrus for his refusal, as he was wont to do with those who dared to defy him. Instead, he had ordered a few of his Death Eaters to do the deed and tried to make it like an accident. But Cyrus was not so easily taken down, and knew well the consequences if he refused Voldemort's offer. He had hired his own assassins to take out any would-be killers, and in the end, it was Voldemort's lackeys who paid the price. Cyrus had stayed out of the fray during the war, believing that his skills were better put to use in maintaining the economic stability of the wizarding world. "If there's no one who manages, maintains and keeps the economic sector running in times of crisis, what will we have left after the war is over?" he had said to Harry, his voice tinged with nonchalance. "If the British wizarding world collapses other than because of war, who's going to bother, young Harry?"
Harry had to admit, Cyrus had a point. And in the end, the British wizarding world had slowly but surely rebuilt itself after the war. "I always believed that you would beat him," Cyrus had said to Harry, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Harry nodded, remembering the moment when Voldemort had finally been defeated. "Well, he lost his job when our stupid Minister disbanded IA and the department was replaced with a High Inquisition, with Umbridge acting as the head," She huffed, irritatedly.
"So that would mean later this year?" Daphne nodded, her long light golden blonde hair swaying with the movement. Harry let out a deep sigh, his emerald green eyes clouded with frustration. "I don't want to have anything to do with Umbridge anymore," he groaned, running a hand through his messy black hair. Daphne gave him a sympathetic look, her blue eyes filled with concern.
"Sorry, Harry," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Harry shook his head, his expression determined.
"It's not your fault, Daph," he said, pulling her into a warm embrace. "I'll try to avoid her this time," he promised, hoping to ease her guilt. But Daphne's intuition told her otherwise.
"I still can't fathom why the time-turner transported us to this year," she shrugged, her delicate shoulders lifting up and down.
"But on the bright side—" Harry began to say before they were interrupted by a loud knocking on the compartment door. Daphne's eyes widened in alarm as she looked at her watch.
"Merlin's beard!" she exclaimed in a hushed voice, turning to Harry. "You brought your invisibility cloak, right? Put it on quickly and stay quiet. I'll handle them," she instructed, her tone urgent.
Harry quickly slipped on the cloak, his heart beating faster with anticipation. Daphne straightened her skirt and fixed her hair before opening the compartment door.
"Please don't lock the doors of the carriages until it's time to get changed into your school robes," a prefect in Ravenclaw robes said in an authoritative tone, his frown deepening as he looked around the compartment. "Are you alone?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"Yeah, is that a problem?" Daphne answered coolly, her arms crossed defiantly across her chest as she tried to project an air of nonchalance.
"No, there's no problem. Don't lock the door again," he warned, before finally leaving her compartment.
Daphne rolled her eyes in disgust at his patronising tone, her irritation palpable. She closed the door with a bit more force than intended, wincing as she did so. "Oops!" she muttered under her breath, hoping against hope that they had not been discovered.
"He's gone?" he asked, pulling off his invisibility cloak with an exasperated sigh. Daphne nodded from the backseat.
"Let's meet up at the castle. We have much to discuss," she proposed. Harry readily agreed - their conversation on the train was merely the tip of the iceberg.
"When shall we meet?" Daphne mulled it over for a moment before inquiring, "What do you think about a few days from now?"
"Sounds good. I'll find a way to tell you the details," Harry promised. He furrowed his brow as he noticed the urgency in Daphne's expression. "What's wrong?"
"I left Tracey unattended. I just told her I needed the loo. We've been gone for an hour, Harry. Aren't your friends concerned about your absence?" she fretted.
"Perhaps you could offer Tracey a bribe from the food trolley to keep her quiet," he suggested, shrugging.
"Why, Harry Potter," Daphne exclaimed, feigning shock. "I can't believe you would suggest bribing a ministry employee!"
"Technically you two aren't Ministry employees yet. And we both are guilty of bribing Susan with a pint or two to swap around lunch schedules," he explained with a sheepish grin. Daphne giggled, and Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of longing as he gazed at her. "It's good to see you again. I thought I was going to be alone."
She playfully rested her hand on his leg, a mischievous smile on her face. "Seriously, Harry, I can only imagine the trouble you've gotten yourself into while I was away." There was a certain sparkle in her eyes that Harry instantly recognized, causing him to sigh and smirk simultaneously.
"Come on, Daphne," Harry said in a light-hearted tone, "I can see that mischievous glimmer in your eyes. What's your grand plan for me this time?"
Leaning in closer, Daphne's face lit up with a mischievous grin. "Oh, Harry, my dear, I couldn't help but notice how you spoke during your trial. Dad showed me the memory of it, and it was like you had suddenly transformed into this eloquent lawyer, all fancy with your words and flowery expressions."
Raising an eyebrow, Harry's voice carried a hint of amusement. "Are you trying to say that my defence wasn't up to par?"
Daphne burst into laughter, her voice carrying a melodious and light-hearted tone. "Oh, no, Harry, not at all! Your defence was absolutely brilliant! I could almost visualise the dramatic lighting and hear the suspenseful music in the background. It felt like you were auditioning for a lead role in a courtroom drama. Law and Order: Wizard Victims Unit."
Harry joined in the laughter, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, Daphne, I must admit I've never daydreamed about becoming a lawyer, but I've certainly replayed that trial in my mind countless times. I suppose you were expecting me to take a more rugged and straightforward approach?"
Daphne playfully nudged his shoulder. "Oh, come on, Harry. You know me too well. I was expecting you to pull out your wand, wave it dramatically, and say, 'I solemnly swear I am innocent!' with a flash of light."
Harry chuckled, a sparkle in his eyes. "You're lucky that I didn't take your advice then. I can only imagine Madame Bones' reaction if I had started waving my wand around in the courtroom."
Daphne leaned back, a satisfied smile on her face. "Ah, yes. The reactions would have been priceless. 'Mr. Potter, if you would please refrain from spellcasting in the courtroom.' I can hear it now."
Harry shook his head, his smile widening. "You're impossible, Daphne. But I wouldn't have it any other way."
Daphne's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Of course not, Harry. You love my endless teasing. It keeps you on your toes."
Harry's laughter filled the compartment, mixing with the sounds of the train. "Well, it certainly keeps life interesting, that's for sure."
"I missed you, Harry. When I woke up, I thought I'd never see you again, that we'd never be able to tease each other like this again," she confessed, looking at him with affection.
"I missed you too, Daphne," he replied, returning her gaze. She planted a sweet kiss on his cheek, and Harry beamed at her.
"See you later, Harry. I really do have to get back to Tracy before she becomes suspicious." Daphne bid him farewell before vanishing from sight with an invisibility charm. Harry waited a few minutes before exiting the compartment, only to be greeted by Hermione's frantic voice.
"Harry! Where have you been? We were worried sick!" she scolded him. Harry flashed her an innocent grin.
"Oh, hi Hermione!"
Ever since returning to the past, Harry felt like he was experiencing a whole new world, noticing things he had never seen before. His perspective had broadened, especially in his role as an Auror, where precision, foresight, and sensitivity were crucial.
Umbridge's speech was as monotonous and boring as he remembered. The difference now was that he didn't need Hermione to decipher the Ministry minion's intentions. Instead, he silently admired Daphne's lovely face from a distance. Her expression conveyed both seriousness and disgust, and in Harry's opinion, she looked incredibly cute. He had to suppress a silly laugh, feeling like he had fallen in love with her all over again, like a giddy teenager. He coughed a few times to avoid arousing suspicion from Hermione and Ron.
When Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room for the first time in his fifth year, Seamus confronted him once more about the Prophet, and as he looked around the room, he noticed a variety of expressions directed at him. Some supported Seamus, but others appeared frightened, choosing to remain silent to avoid drawing attention. There were also those who supported Harry, though Ron and Hermione seemed to be exceptions, as they seemed more occupied with bickering with one another.
Over the weekend, Harry eagerly anticipated seeing Daphne again. He had already made plans to contact her and arrange a meeting. However, his plans had to be put on hold because Angelina, the new Quidditch team captain, scheduled a meeting for the Gryffindor team's main members to discuss the upcoming school year and determine if any positions needed new members. Harry obediently attended the meeting, providing input and suggestions as necessary.
In general, his days were uneventful until Monday morning, the first day of the school year. Walking with his friends down the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry half-listened to Hermione and Ron arguing… yet again.
"-Ron!"
"What are you two arguing about?" Harry interjected, slipping between them and walking in the middle.
"Bloody hell, Harry!"
"What? Surprised that I've gotten tired of being the third wheel all this time?" Harry feigned surprise in a mocking tone before picking up his pace. "Well, I'll leave you to it then," he said with a charming smile while waving his hand and adjusting his book bag on his shoulder. "Bye!" he called out cheerfully.
But his friends quickly matched his steps. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry! Ron's just being stupid!" Hermione protested from his left.
"Hey!" Ron exclaimed, a hint of offence in his tone.
Harry's cheerful demeanour quickly soured and flattened when they were halted in the middle of the aisle by a group of Ravenclaws. Among them was Cho Chang, who beamed sweetly at Harry. He nodded in response, a mere formality.
"Good morning, Cho," Harry greeted, trying to be polite. "Excuse us, but we have to eat quickly. Ron and Hermione have prefect duties they need to get to. It was nice to meet you this morning. Have a pleasant day!" he said too formally for Hermione's taste, as he pulled her along. Ron followed, confused. Cho was apparently confused as well, as she justed nodded with a look of bewilderment on her face.
"What's the matter, Harry? Don't you like Cho Chang?" Hermione asked, looking bewildered. She took a seat next to Harry, who had already begun loading his plate with food.
"Eat, Hermione," Harry ordered.
"You still haven't answered my question," Hermione persisted, growing annoyed. Harry chewed and swallowed his bacon before turning his head towards Hermione. He placed a plate and a bowl in front of her.
"Would you like cereal with milk or the usual bacon and eggs?" Harry asked, taking charge of her breakfast choices and ignoring her.
"Harry!" She snapped with a hiss, causing him to wince.
He sighed before responding, "Did I ever admit to fancying Cho Chang?" he asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically while Hermione frowned.
"But last year? You couldn't take your eyes off her. You even asked her to the Yule Ball, remember?"
"Did I?" He pretended not to remember, making a pensive gesture.
"Yeah, mate, you were devastated when she rejected you and decided to go with..." He hesitated, not daring to finish his sentence, but Harry raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.
"Is that so? Hmmm, maybe I'm just over her," Harry shrugged and returned his attention to his breakfast.
"You're being cruel, Harry! That's not nice. Don't you feel sorry for her?" she pressed again.
"What? I barely knew her. We never even had a conversation longer than three sentences as we passed each other in the corridors," he replied irritably. "Are you trying to guilt-trip me into being a rebound boyfriend? That's not very nice of you. I expected better." He looked at her slyly, as Ron glanced between the two of them in an amused confusion at the verbal back and forth.
Her face reddened, and as she began to protest, she saw the disapproving look he gave her. Instantly, she closed her mouth, unable to find any words to argue further.
He sighed, "Now eat! What do you want?" he said in a tired tone, laying it on thick in the hopes that Hermione would simply drop the topic.
"Cereal," she said in a small voice. Harry picked up the cereal jug and poured it into her bowl, adding some milk and strawberry slices.
"Eat! We have a long day ahead," he urged. Reluctantly, she picked up the spoon and started to eat. Ron, who had been watching Harry's actions with their female best friend, snickered silently, but he quickly stopped when she glared at him. Harry just shrugged and returned to his breakfast, while Ron grinned mischievously at him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daphne walk into the Great Hall with Tracey, looking giggly and beautiful as ever. He hid his smile behind his breakfast.
Suddenly, their house head, McGonagall, interrupted his thoughts. "Here is your schedule," she announced, extending a parchment to him. Harry read it promptly, but his mood plummeted at the sight of his classes for the day. Defence Against the Dark Arts was one of them, and he winced, already feeling the dread settle in.
Harry had just made the brisk jog from Charms and stepped into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom - fortunately it was the last class for the day - and a shiver ran down his spine. The once imposing space had been transformed into a sickly-sweet haven of pastel pink. The walls were draped in frilly lace, accenting a vibrant pink wallpaper with portraits of kittens adoring the walls, much like he remembered her personal office once being. It was as if a fairy had vomited its saccharine essence all over the place.
As Harry took in the absurd surroundings, his eyes settled on the source of his discomfort. Professor Umbridge sat at her desk, her toad-like face twisted into a sickeningly sweet smile. A decorative plate adorned her desk, boasting her impressive title as Senior Undersecretary to The Minister For Magic.
It was different this time, Harry noticed, a small change, but enough to put him on edge. Before, only her personal office had been decked out in such garish decor.
As soon as Harry entered, she looked up and fixed him with a stern gaze. "Good morning, Mr. Potter," she said in a falsely sweet voice. "And how about a proper greeting, one that shows respect for your teacher and your fellow classmates?"
Umbridge's words were like a slap in the face, and Harry felt a surge of anger rise up inside him. 'So this is how she is going to play it. Singling me out more so than last time. I must have really made her mad'. Nevertheless, he swallowed his pride and forced out a stiff, formal "Good morning, Professor Umbridge," before taking his seat in the classroom. She smiled and nodded at him. "Very good, Mr. Potter. I'm glad to see you are able to be respectful towards your superiors. As Mr. Potter had said, "I am Professor Umbridge, and I will be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year," she declared, her voice as sugary as her surroundings. "Today, we will not be practising any spells. Instead, we will be reading from this book. I am aware it is not the book listed in your Hogwarts letter, and as such I will be providing the books free to the class." Umbridge held up a thick, leather-bound tome, its cover emblazoned with the title "Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Critical Analysis." It was different from the book they had used in the previous timeline, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what it meant. Why the last-minute change? What was Umbridge up to?
As he delved deeper into the pages of the book, he could not help but notice the subtle yet insidious threads of propaganda woven throughout its first chapter. The tome proclaimed that the concept of self-defence was nothing but a foul and heinous act, one that should be shunned by all those who cherished the light. It further insinuated that those who dared to hone their defensive skills were nothing but deplorable miscreants, destined to join the ranks of the darkest of wizards, as it showed a disdain and disrespect for law enforcement.
But that was not all. The book went on to suggest that the only safeguard against the evil forces that lurked in the shadows was the Ministry of Magic, a claim that defied all logic and reason. For he knew, as did many others, that the Ministry's ineptitude and corruption were the very reasons why the dark arts were thriving in the first place.
He closed the book with a sense of unease, his mind racing with thoughts of unfamiliarity snaking its way through his mind. He had a feeling that this was a result of his trial, and on a hunch he opened to the front page. Sure enough, on the byline was a girlish cursive, stating "Dolores Jane Umbridge." He inwardly groaned, wondering to himself when she even managed to write the damn thing.
As he read on, he discovered even more examples of propaganda woven throughout the text. The book claimed that Muggles were a danger, incapable of understanding magic at all. It suggested that the only way to protect the magical world was to keep it hidden from Muggles at all costs, and that any attempts to bridge the gap between the two worlds would lead to chaos and destruction. To her credit, the book was masterfully written, and referenced many historical texts that Harry vaguely remembered from Binn's class… and all of them where all at 300 years out of date. But the book was not done yet. It went on to suggest that certain magical creatures, such as werewolves and giants, were inherently violent and dangerous, and that they should be feared and shunned by all those who wished to live in peace. It painted them as savage beasts, incapable of reason or compassion, and suggested that the only way to deal with them was through force and subjugation, and explained how only through the actions of the Ministry could the threats of the dark forces be defeated. It was as if Umbridge had sprinkled in 5% truth and 95% fiction, and wrote in just enough citations and references to make it seem legit - a true masterpiece of propaganda.
Harry closed the book and looked to the side, spotting Daphne out of the corner of his eye. She looked equally as disgusted at the text, and the only clue behind her stoic demeanour was the slight narrowing of her eyes that was imperceptible to anyone who hadn't dated the girl for years. Unfortunately as he stared, Umbridge had swooped down in a hawk-like fashion to take advantage of the situation. "Mr. Potter, since you do not seem to be participating in your self study, perhaps you would like to stand and read the first chapter of the book aloud?" Inwardly he had to resist the urge to puke, it was like Lockheart all over again, but even worse. "Come now, Mr. Potter. We don't have all day, and I will not stand for a misbehaving student wasting the valuable learning time of the class."
Ignoring the snickering he could hear from Draco in the back of the class, he stood and began to read, "As a wizard, you may believe that self-defence is a necessary skill to master in order to protect yourself from harm. However, the truth is that relying solely on self-defence is a dangerous and misguided approach. In fact, the idea of relying on self-defence has been linked to the rise of lawlessness and the spread of dark magic and vigilantism. The Ministry of Magic is responsible for protecting wizarding communities and enforcing laws that keep us safe. When individuals take it upon themselves to engage in vigilantism or self-defence, they are undermining the authority of the Ministry and risking the safety of the entire community.
Furthermore, relying on self-defence can lead to a cycle of violence that only perpetuates itself. Instead of trusting in the Ministry, usage of violent techniques can lead to a culture of fear and paranoia, where everyone is constantly on guard and suspicious of each other. This kind of mindset can cause people to isolate themselves from their communities and become more vulnerable to dark magic and manipulation. It can also breed a sense of individualism and selfishness, where people are only concerned with their own safety and not the safety of others. When one person uses force against another, it can lead to retaliation and a never-ending cycle of retribution. This is why the Ministry encourages peaceful conflict resolution and urges individuals to seek the assistance of trained professionals in cases of danger or threat.
Moreover, relying on self-defence can also have unintended consequences. For example, if you engage in a spell duel with a dark wizard, you may inadvertently reveal your own weaknesses and vulnerabilities, which they can exploit in future encounters. It is much safer and wiser to rely on the expertise of Aurors and other trained professionals to handle dangerous situations…" Harry paused, letting out a snort of disgust. "I'm sorry professor, but this makes no sense. What are we expected to do when a dark wizard is attacking, and the aurors are nowhere around? Are we supposed to just let ourselves be killed?"
"Mr. Potter!" exclaimed Professor Umbridge, her voice dripping with feigned shock. "Surely you cannot condone such violent behaviour! The Ministry of Magic is tirelessly working to ensure the safety of our citizens!"
But Harry was not deterred. "But Professor," he countered, "what if we were to face an attack from a dark wizard? What if they were to break into our homes and threaten our families?"
Umbridge's smile turned sickly sweet as she addressed Harry. "Why, Mr. Potter, I must say I am quite surprised by your line of questioning. Surely, as law-abiding citizens, we have nothing to fear from dark wizards. Unless, of course, you have some personal reason to believe otherwise?"
But it was Daphne who rose to Harry's defence. "Excuse me, Professor, but Potter does have a very good point." she interrupted. "What about Sirius Black? He managed to sneak into the Gryffindor tower with a knife just two years ago and nearly attacked a student. Then at the end of the year, he attacked one of the Weasleys, then escaped after the Ministry caught him." Harry felt a flicker of gratitude towards Daphne. She was trying to shift the focus away from him, and he appreciated it more than he could say.
Umbridge's face turned a sickly shade of pink at Daphne's comment. "Miss Greengrass, that is a completely different situation. Sirius Black is a dangerous criminal who is currently on the run. But I assure you, our esteemed Minister of Magic has personally assured me that he will be captured by Christmas. You have nothing to fear."
"Well, what of Professor Quirrell in our first year? Rumour has it he sought an artefact to aid a dark wizard. Or, perhaps you recall the imposter who impersonated Professor Moody last year?" Her voice dripped with the glacial chill that she had been infamous for. "My father informed me that Fudge had him Kissed on the spot before the aurors even had a chance to interrogate him."
Umbridge bristled with indignation at these accusations and turned on her. "The Minister himself apprehended the impostor last year and acted valiantly to protect the students and guests of Hogwarts. He was a true hero. As for Quirinus Quirrell, it bespeaks Professor Dumbledore's inadequacy to govern and ensure the safety of the school. If the Ministry had been in control, such a calamity would have been averted altogether, as we maintain a steadfast pledge to keep the children of Hogwarts safe from harm."
Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at Umbridge's ridiculous confidence. He knew better than to trust anything that came out of her mouth. "With all due respect, Professor, I'll believe it when I see it –"
Before he could say anything, however, Umbridge was already moving on. "As for you, Mr. Potter," she said, turning her gaze back to him, "I will not tolerate such insubordination in my classroom. You will serve detention with me tomorrow evening, and I expect you to listen to my orders from now on."
Harry gritted his teeth. He knew that Umbridge was just trying to assert her authority over him, but he didn't have much choice in the matter. With a resigned sigh, he nodded his agreement and waited for class to end. He had a feeling that this was only the beginning of his troubles with the Ministry.
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, Umbridge had already dismissed the class. As the other students filed out, Harry stayed behind to pack his things. Daphne lingered by his desk for a moment, her expression sympathetic.
"I'm sorry about that," she said quietly. "She's just...well, you know."
Harry nodded, his jaw clenched. "Thanks, Daphne. I appreciate it."
She gave him a small smile before hurrying out of the classroom.
Daphne stormed out of Defence Against the Dark Arts, her wand still crackling with anger. Tracey scurried after her, her usually cheerful face etched with concern. Before they could make it to the stairs, Pansy Parkinson appeared out of nowhere, her sharp nails digging into Daphne's shoulder.
"What are you playing at, Greengrass?" Pansy hissed, her eyes flashing with fury. "Defending Potter like some kind of Gryffindor traitor?"
Daphne narrowed her eyes, her pulse racing. She was still seething from Harry's reckless behaviour in class, and Pansy's accusations only added fuel to the fire.
"What business is it of yours, Parkinson?" Daphne spat, her arms folded across her chest. "Umbridge is wrong, and someone needs to stand up to her."
Pansy sneered, her lip curling in disgust. "You're ruining Slytherin's reputation, Greengrass. Standing up for that mudblood-loving fool."
Daphne's eyes glittered dangerously. "And you think taunting the other Houses with your filthy language is good for our reputation?" she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're the one who's bringing shame to Slytherin, Parkinson. The house of status and prestige is reduced to throwing petty insults and slurs."
As the two girls glared at each other, the passing students paused to watch, their whispers echoing in the corridor. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife, and everyone could sense that something big was about to happen.
"I think you are mistaken on who is the disappointment. We are maintaining our purity, and making sure we don't get swayed by filthy half-bloods and Mudblood-" Pansy proclaimed, before her words were interrupted by a loud, echoing slap from Daphne.
The onlookers watched in amazement as Daphne fearlessly confronted Pansy. "Watch your tongue! Although I am pure-blood, I still have pride and principles. Did your mother not teach you any manners, Pansy? Or did she never wash your mouth out with soap? Shall I do it for her?" Daphne's words were as sharp as a razor, and Pansy could feel the sting on her cheek.
Daphne's eyes glinted with righteous anger, and Pansy could sense the danger lurking in her voice. "Do not dare say that word to me again, or you will regret it!" Her threat hung heavy in the air, causing Pansy to flinch away, slightly cowering in fear. "You are 15, almost 16, Pansy. It's time to grow up."
However, their confrontation was short-lived as Professor McGonagall appeared on the scene. Daphne remained undaunted, still seething with rage.
"What is going on here? It's your first day and you're already causing a disturbance!" scolded McGonagall in her stern voice. Although Daphne missed her professor's voice, her fury continued to rage.
"Greengrass started it, Professor!" Bulstrode interjected, earning a glare from Daphne. Her cowardice only served to disgust Daphne, and she cursed under her breath.
"Ten points from Slytherin, each of you!" exclaimed McGonagall, Daphne's heart sank as she realised that their House had already lost an extraordinary amount of points, possibly even falling into negative territory. Gritting her teeth, she fought back her anger, unwilling to challenge Professor McGonagall's decision. With a stiff nod, she accepted the punishment that was to come. "Three days of detention with me, starting tomorrow after dinner!" McGonagall declared firmly, shooing the students back to their classes. Her commanding voice successfully dispersed the crowd, including the Gryffindor trio who had been observing the heated exchange from within the Slytherin House, a rare occurrence indeed.
Harry, though inwardly beaming with pride for his beloved, refrained from outwardly expressing his happiness, feeling guilty for being the cause of her anger. It was his fault, after all, for foolishly falling for Umbridge's goading words. Harry felt incredibly dumb - if it weren't for him, Daphne wouldn't have had an altercation with Pansy on their very first day, resulting in the loss of so many precious house points. He had already lived this day once, so he knew he should have expected something like this. He knew he had to make it up to her somehow.
"It's a shame it didn't escalate into a proper catfight," remarked Ron, finding amusement in the spectacle of Slytherins brawling in public.
"Ronald, it's highly inappropriate for them to engage in such behaviour," scolded Hermione, disapproving of Ron's flippant attitude.
"But it's so rare to see two Slytherins fight! I doubt we'll witness something like this again, especially when it involves Parkinson and... er... who was the other girl?" Ron stared blankly at Hermione's exasperated expression.
"Daphne Greengrass. Honestly, Ron, we've been in class with them since our first year!" Hermione huffed before storming off, leaving Ron behind.
"What's got her knickers in a twist?" Ron protested, perplexed by Hermione's sudden annoyance.
"Think, Ron. I'm sure you can piece it together," Harry interjected wearily, before following Hermione's trail.
However, before he could catch up to her, Professor McGonagall intercepted him with a stern summons, "Mr. Potter, you are to come with me to my office immediately." Harry gestured for Ron to go ahead without him and quickly adjusted his book bag before trailing after the future headmistress.
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