A/N: A bit more Daphne in this one. Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! Also, any recommendations for food/ activities at Harry Potter World in Orlando would be greatly appreciated. When I went a few years ago, I just kinda stumbled around blindly for a few hours with my mouth wide open in wonder.
Chapter 14
September 1, 1995
Harry grabbed his broom immediately after the welcoming feast, wanting a chance to clear his mind before curfew. Hedwig joined him as he cruised around the grounds, something she'd done often over the summer when he wasn't too exhausted to go for a night-time fly.
The speech Umbridge gave after the feast left a sour taste in Harry's mouth, and he felt like he needed space to think. Hermione was the first to catch on to the new professor's meaning, and she, Neville, and all four Weasley's were currently discussing the witch in the common room. None had objected to Harry's desire for air, besides Hermione telling him to be careful.
He and his faithful companion circled the lake, Harry catching a few glimpses of the giant squid hunting for his dinner. As they followed the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he angled his broom towards Hagrid's hut. His friend was currently on a mission to the giants, something that Dumbledore suggested at the beginning of the summer, but Harry brought his mirror with him and figured he'd check in on Sirius and Remus. He quickly found a seat on a low stone wall, and called his godfather.
"Harry!" Sirius cheered when his face appeared. "Remus is here, too. How was the train?"
"Uneventful. Had a run in with Malfoy, but he didn't cross the line."
"I'm sure Lucy warned him to stay civil."
"Or he learned something from the duel," Remus added, out of the frame.
"First time for everything, I guess," Harry said dryly. "Umbridge made a speech."
"Was it fascinating?" Sirius asked sarcastically.
"Just 'Ministry good, Hogwarts bad,' bullshit. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard while burning alive."
"I despise the woman," Remus said. "But give her class a shot, so we know what she's saying at the very least."
"I will," Harry promised. "First thing Monday morning. Can't wait. What's going on over there?"
"In the 10 hours you've been gone?" Sirius asked with a teasing grin. "Not a whole lot. Amelia moved into her new place, and she has a list of aurors that have reached out to her in support. It's not many, but something to think about."
"You seem down, Harry," Remus said, concern in his voice. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," he replied with a sigh. "I just feel like the last few days, I couldn't wait to be back here. But now that I am, I just want to be back home."
Sirius gave him an understanding look, but Harry felt silly for mentioning it. "I get it. This summer was amazing, and it's hard to let everything go. And I gotta tell ya," he whispered conspiratorially. "I think your secretary has already been slacking on the job."
"I have not, Padfoot." The frustrated man must have wrestled the mirror out of Harry's hands, as it blurred for a moment before Remus' face appeared. "I have all the important notes from the day. Nothing pressing, and we'll go over it on Sunday. Sirius is the one that caught the house on fire."
"It was just the stove," Harry heard the man shout indignantly, before the mirror went blurry again.
When it finally quit moving, Harry was staring at the ceiling of the den, sounds of grown men wrestling coming from the object. Harry chuckled at the antics of the pair, waiting patiently for Remus to prove victorious. It didn't take long, and with another moment of blurriness, he was soon looking at the face of the expected winner.
"Sorry about that Harry, I had to deal with a child."
Harry grinned at him, knowing Sirius was likely pinned beneath, as Remus' lycanthropy made the man unnaturally strong. Sirius never stood a chance, but that didn't stop him from trying to wrestle his friend a few times a week.
"You idiots have fun. I'm gonna head back up to the common room, I guess."
"It'll get easier," Remus said with a smile, before turning the mirror around to show a very red Sirius lying squashed into the floor.
"Miss you, kiddo," the man wheezed, clearly having trouble breathing.
"I miss you guys, too. Stay out of trouble." Harry closed the connection, putting the mirror back in his bag.
He sat in silence for a minute, appreciating the cool night air. Hedwig flew down from her perch on top of Hagrid's hut, landing on his shoulder before nuzzling Harry's cheek. The rather morose Gryffindor chuckled at the empathetic bird, stroking her soft feathers lightly.
"I guess this is home for a bit, girl," he whispered, though for the first time, it didn't feel like it.
Hedwig gave a soft hoot in response, nuzzling his cheek once more.
—
September 4, 1995
"Good morning, class!"
There were a few muttered replies, but the majority of the gathered Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth years seemed entirely uninterested in responding to the sickly sweet greeting.
"Now, now," Professor Umbridge simpered. "I expect participation from my students. Now let's try that again. Good morning, class!"
Around half of the students returned the greeting the second time around. Umbridge, either not noticing or knowing that's the best she would receive, moved on.
"There have been many nasty rumors being spread this summer, so I would like to start by saying that you are all perfectly safe," she said, attempting to meet the eye of each student. When her gaze fell upon Harry, her annoying little smile dropped, but she didn't address the teen.
"You have nothing to fear here in the castle, and nothing to fear outside of it."
Harry rolled his eyes, knowing this was going to be a rough start to his week going forward. Unfortunately, he was a bit more obvious than he intended.
"Do you have something to add, Mr. Potter?" she asked sweetly.
"No, Professor," Harry answered dully. "I'm sure the world is sunshine and rainbows."
"Mr. Potter, judging from what I saw from you last month, your behavior may be the most dangerous thing to our world at the moment."
Harry, not knowing or caring if she was referring to his duel or his actions in the Wizengamot, merely shrugged.
"I'm sure you know best, Professor."
"Do you not agree?" Harry knew the woman was trying to get a rise out of him, and though she may succeed, it wouldn't be to her liking.
"I believe my actions have been controversial perhaps, but entirely necessary." His monotone answer clearly frustrated the woman.
"What took place on the Quidditch pitch a week ago was abhorrent," she spat, her tone no longer obnoxiously pleasant. "Your parents would be ashamed."
That might do it. "Is that so, Madam?" he asked icily, the students around him shocked by the woman's claim.
Daphne, sitting at the table in front, glanced at him over her shoulder, her expression expertly neutral. And Hermione, from her seat at the front of the room, shook her head at Harry pleadingly.
"Of course it is. No parent would want their child to act like such a monster. You humiliated a pillar of this community for no other reason than an immature ego."
"I could have killed that pillar, as he attempted to do to me. Would you respect me more if I had?"
"Mr. Potter," the woman countered heatedly, her control slipping further. "Corban Yaxley is an honorable man, and did no such thing!"
"There are at least six students seated in front of you that saw it with their own eyes. I'm not sure who decided on the way the Ministry would address the incident, but they need to find another career."
His guess on the identity of that person was proven correct, as the woman flushed in anger and embarrassment.
"Cornelius Fudge and his Ministry are dedicated to the truth. If anyone disagrees with their statements, then they are clearly deluded."
"Someone is," Harry muttered under his breath before smiling at the woman. "You must be right, Professor. I apologize unreservedly. Perhaps we may begin our lesson, as we're all looking forward to learning from the Ministry's expert very much."
"The lesson begins when I say it does," the woman snapped.
He didn't blink an eye, merely maintaining his polite smile. Seeing she wouldn't be able to provoke him further, Umbridge shook herself slightly and pasted the smile Harry had stolen back on her face.
"You may put your wands away. You will not need them in this class."
"We won't need wands?" Seamus Finnegan blurted in confusion.
"Raise your hand if you have a question, please." Students around the room did so immediately. Umbridge looked annoyed, but called on Daphne.
"Yes, Miss Greengrass," she simpered.
"Professor, will we be strictly studying theory in this class?" the girl asked politely.
"The Ministry's curriculum shall be sufficient to prepare you for your exams, and we have carefully chosen a textbook that will help you do so. Outside of the exam and a few pre-approved assignments, I don't see any reason for you to cast defensive magic."
"What if Potter challenges us to a duel?" Blaise Zabini quipped from his left, drawing a laugh from Harry and giggles from some of the other students.
"Detention, Mr. Potter," the woman practically squealed. "I've had enough of your outbursts!"
Harry chuckled at the irony, but gave the woman a sarcastic bow from his seat.
"You may all turn to chapter one in your textbooks and begin reading."
The rest of the class was spent in silence, the toad sipping tea at her desk while watching her bored students. After the required ninety minutes they were released from the massive waste of time, and Harry collected his things, ready to be rid of the woman.
"Sorry for that, Potter," Zabini muttered as he turned to leave, surprising him.
"She'd have found another way," Harry answered with a shrug, watching the teen as he caught up with his classmates.
"What was that about?" Hermione asked as she approached, not used to seeing Harry speak to Slytherins without insults being traded.
"He just apologized for making me laugh," he answered confusedly. Harry followed as Ron and Hermione led the way to the Charms classroom.
"Must be a cold day in hell," Neville offered from behind.
"Must be."
"That woman is despicable," Hermione huffed, clutching her textbook to her chest. "I can't believe what she said about your parents!"
"I expected it," Harry said calmly. "She's so far up Fudge's ass that she's convinced herself I'm the enemy. Should be a fun year."
"It might be if you don't mention Fudge's ass again," Ron responded.
"Boys!" Hermione yelped indignantly. "Language!"
The teens merely grinned at each other over her head.
—
September 8, 1995
The rest of Harry's classes started normally, which he was thankful for. Professor Grubbly-Plank was filling in for Hagrid again, and they started with bowtruckles. Charms and Transfiguration had been a breeze, both professors mentioning his marked improvement. Herbology was still dirty, and Potions was headache inducing, per usual. Snape, at least, seemed to single Harry out less, and had even accepted his completed work so far without comment. His work with his mother on the subject had evidently paid off.
Defense, however, was a lesson in nothing but futility. The first few minutes of class were spent with Umbridge trying to get under Harry's skin, unsuccessfully, and the rest of the period was spent staring unseeingly at a page in the textbook. The only silver lining was that Harry's way of dealing with the woman was infuriating her.
Both Wednesday and Friday morning, Harry had done nothing but smile sweetly at the woman. Not answering a question, or responding to a remark, only staring at her until she assigned the reading, and he'd already lost fifty points for the behavior. He then spent the remaining time working on his Occlumency shields, something he'd been neglecting. If he stuck with the class for much longer, it would take every skilled Legilimens in the world to get through his defenses.
Harry trudged to the same classroom after dinner on Friday, as the woman had instructed him to meet her in her office for his detention.
It was horrifying. As he entered he was almost blinded by the bright pink wallpaper and furnishings, barely noticing the nauseating little plates with painted kittens mounted to the wall. The woman at the desk matched her office, and Harry thought the decor and the woman alone were sufficient punishment. Umbridge, however, disagreed.
"Take out a sheet of parchment. You'll be writing lines," she said, with a smile that almost saw his dinner returning.
"No," he answered calmly, plopping heavily into a chair.
"Excuse me?" The woman looked like a flashbulb had gone off in her brain.
"I said no," Harry repeated slowly.
"I don't understand, Mr. Potter," the woman said, her smile faltering.
"It's not that difficult, madam. I can map it out for you on the chalkboard if you wanna head into the classroom."
"You will do as I say, Potter." Umbridge spat, vibrating with anger. Her voice was as dangerous as her bright pink, five foot frame allowed.
"Nah." Harry replied casually after a moment of thought. "I'd prefer to be on my way, actually."
"I warned Cornelius you would be trouble," the woman muttered, half to herself. "A halfblood in a Faithful Eight seat. It's a travesty."
"Kinda like someone teaching Defense who barely scraped an 'acceptable' on her OWL," Harry muttered, completely to her.
"How dare you? I will have your respect!"
"For dessert?" Harry asked in feigned confusion.
He almost laughed at the woman's expression. He wasn't sure anyone had ever been this mad at him, and that was saying a lot. The woman stood, towering all of three inches above him while he remained seated.
"I'll go to the Headmaster if…"
"Please do."
"I'll have you expelled!"
"That would be the Headmaster's call, madam. I'm sure he'd join us if you asked."
The toad seemed to have minimal knowledge of her limitations at least, as she took a breath and shook her head. After a moment, she brightened at a new idea.
"I'll just get the Minister on the floo, shall I? We can see what he has to say about the matter."
"And what's the best possible outcome, Dolores? Let's say he manages to get me expelled, which is an achievement above his reach." Umbridge made to interrupt, but Harry interrupted her with a raised hand. "Ah ah ah, let me finish."
Harry allowed his magic to swell, a skill he'd been practicing, little painted cats on rattling plates scattering wildly.
"If he manages it, guess where I'll spend all my newfound time? On the steps of the Ministry with the protestors. A sign in my hand, answering every reporter's question asked of me with 'the Minister expelled me for not writing lines'. I hear there are representatives from papers around the world covering the unrest. Is that your plan?"
"Your wand will be snapped!" Umbridge countered firmly, though she was obviously wary of the smothering magic.
"You really are an idiot," Harry responded softly, shaking his head. "I'm an adult, Dolores. Recognized as such by the government and magic. I am a permanent member of the Wizengamot, and the last remaining member of a Faithful Eight family. Each one of those things means you have no real authority over me.
"In fact, many of the things you've said to me over the past week could be considered slanderous. 'Arrogant, insolent, a travesty, abhorrent, a monster'… those are offensive words, madam," Harry said dangerously, with much more success. "You've seen what I do to those that offend me. And Yaxley never brought my parents into it.
"Just imagine what I'd do to protect the memory of my father who gave his lifefighting an actual monster to protect me and my mum. Or my mother who sacrificed herself to protect me from Voldemort." Harry smirked evilly at the violent flinch the woman made at the name, and he pushed further with his magic.
"Just imagine what kind of humiliation Cornelius would suffer at my hands."
"Cornelius?" the woman asked in a confused, fearful stupor, her eyes tracking the decorations falling from the office walls.
"Of course, Dolores," Harry said calmly, forcing his magic to return to normal. "I wouldn't dare to challenge the Hogwarts Defense professor to a duel. Luckily, you work for the Minister. He is ultimately responsible for your behavior. I assume he would name a champion to fight for him, but I would make sure my message was delivered to the public clearly."
"He would kill you," Umbridge argued softly, refusing to give up the fight.
"Yaxley said the same," Harry countered, waving the comment away. "I'll explain how we move forward from this, and you will not interrupt me." He waited until the stunned woman finally nodded.
"At the conclusion of this conversation I shall leave to enjoy my weekend. For the rest of your assuredly short time in this school, you will not speak to me unless necessary. You will not call on me in class. You will not approach me in the corridors.
"In return, I won't speak out in, nor disrupt your class unless necessary. And I won't publicly ridicule your absurd sense of self-worth. You can continue the little fantasy you're building, but I'll be watching you closely.
"But hear me when I say this," he finished, allowing his magic out to play once more. "If you choose to not follow my instructions, you won't like the repercussions. Am I clear?"
"Are you threatening me?" Umbridge asked stubbornly, despite her obvious fear.
"Of course not," Harry replied easily, grabbing his bag. "That would be against the law. I've merely had a premonition."
Harry walked out of the office, half expecting a curse to his back. When none came, he moved through the classroom, loudly whistling the Hogwarts school song.
—
September 14, 1995
Harry hoped the weekend that followed was going to prove typical. He spent time training, studying, and flying, but made sure to include time for just hanging out with his classmates. Ron and Hermione were on a date to the kitchens for dessert when he got back from his detention, but he told Neville the story over a game of gobstones. The teen was dumbstruck, eventually just shaking his head saying, "I can see why Gran loves you.'
Saturday, the Gryffindor quidditch team decided to have an impromptu practice, which turned into a scrimmage as other students were on the pitch flying around. Ron was able to play keeper for Harry's team, and performed solidly. Angelina even asked Harry if he was planning on trying out, and Harry was happy to confirm. He managed to catch the snitch every game, with Ginny being the only slight test he had.
Today, Harry was in his office at the Ministry, waiting for the session to begin that would announce the new members of the Wizengamot. Sirius and Remus sat across from him, filling him in on everything that happened since they spoke on Sunday.
"The village has two new families," Remus explained. "The Jacksons and the Millers both signed the contract and joined us this week."
"Are they okay?"
"Yeah, they're fine. The Millers are new money, extremely wealthy, and their wards were tested a couple of times, but it wasn't Voldemort. The wards held, but they didn't want to risk it. Chris Jackson is a trainer for the Ballycastle Bats, and was approached by a stranger while at work. He's actually friends with Jim Griggs, who told him to owl the Manor. Things moved fast, but he and his family moved in yesterday."
"Any idea why he was targeted?"
"Connections, probably," Sirius answered. "He's not especially powerful or wealthy, but he's floated around the league for a decade and has relationships with players and owners."
"Damn," Harry said, not expecting this scenario. "So he quit his job?"
"No," Remus answered while rolling his eyes. "Lord Black here made him an emergency portkey to and from so as to 'not disrupt the season'."
"Hey! It's important!"
"Yes, Lord."
Harry laughed at the pair, glad to see their bickering in person. "What about the aurors that reached out to Amelia?"
"Robards is in," Sirius answered. "He's thoroughly unimpressed with Fudge's recent decisions, but we were waiting to talk to you. Since everyone got shifted up when Amelia left, he's the new Head Auror. The oaths he had to take for the office will interfere with our oath, so we figured we'd keep him as an unofficial contact until things change."
"You're sure about him? I know he won't be told anything we don't want getting out, but you're sure he's not trying to get close for a reason?"
"Amelia's sure. And we decided the risk was worth the reward in this case. He won't know enough to bury us if that's what he's after, but his information to us could be vital," Sirius answered. "And I knew him before Azkaban. He's a good man. There are a few others that Amelia is still in contact with, but nothing firm."
"Good enough for me," Harry responded easily, trusting the man's opinion. "How'd it go with Narcissa and Andromeda?"
"Fucking painfully," the man whined. "I reinstated Andromeda and her family, but figuring out what Cissy's deal is was like pulling teeth. I left the lunch without a clue, but Andi wrote after and said she eventually got through to the stubborn woman."
"And?"
"And she's not happy with recent events. She believed Voldemort was dead, and isn't prepared to play second fiddle to a terrorist again."
"Really?"
"Really really. She knows Draco is lost to her, so she's been pretty depressed, but from what Andi said she may be looking for a quick exit soon."
Harry took the time to think this through, not wanting to rush anything. "Could you ask Andromeda to stay in touch with her? Sister's reconnecting or whatever?"
"She already promised she would," Sirius answered easily. "When I feel more sure I'll have Charlie assign an elf to her."
"Make sure she knows Draco isn't an option," Harry said seriously. "That idiot is his father's son."
"From what Andi said, she knows it. Oh, and Harry," Sirius said with a wink and a grin. "Andi's daughter is an auror and a metamorph. Worth looking into."
"For me or the team?" Harry asked, shaking his head at the man in disbelief.
"The team," he answered before smirking. "Or both."
"Sirius… just… stop. I'm not interested, but if she's worth approaching for the team, feel free to do so."
"Have you seen much of Greengrass' girl?" his godfather offered instead.
"Of course I have," Harry responded frustratedly. "I'm in three classes with her."
"She's a looker. You two would have the whole light and dark thing going."
"Moony," Harry began, not wanting to give Sirius any ammunition. "As my secretary, would you please slap Sirius on the back of the head?"
"Adjutant," the man replied sternly before doing so with a grin.
Sirius pouted, so Remus took over again.
"Albus and I have kept meeting about ways to remove Hogwarts from Ministry control," he began with a grimace. "The easiest solution would be to give Umbridge a chance to cross the line. You could then take that to the Wizengamot as proof of Ministry malfeasance to get them to amend the charter. Anything else would take much longer."
"Keep brainstorming, but giving the witch a little rope shouldn't be difficult," Harry said, an evil smirk spreading on his face.
"I wanna see the memory," Sirius said, quickly ending his pout.
"Of course, Pads. Albus thinks the Ministry will step things up soon. He's not sure what Fudge will do, but apparently Umbridge has been in the Minister's office bitching every night this week."
"You'll deal with it when it comes," Remus said unconcernedly. "If it proves to be too much, you can always come home."
"I think the threat of what would happen if I did terrified poor Dolores."
"I'd imagine. After the Gringotts attack and the duel, you're the 'golden boy' again."
"Yeah, but for how long?"
"So pessimistic," Sirius teased. "Even if they turn on you, it doesn't matter in the long run."
"It will to the families that decide not to reach out for help."
"Fair enough," the man conceded, looking at his watch. "About that time, kiddo."
"Are you coming back to the house after?" Remus asked.
"Afraid not. Albus suggested I make my time away as short as possible to not make waves."
"I'll tell Amelia and the Weasley's you asked about them."
"Thanks, Moony. Also, start thinking about how to word a new contract."
"For who?"
"We're going to need fighters eventually. People I trust to have my back, but maybe not my personal secrets."
"You thinking the Davies'?"
"Yeah, but I'm not willing to make that decision until I speak with them further."
"I'll do it this week."
"Thanks, Moony," Harry said seriously.
—
The Wizengamot session was relatively smooth, with Arthur and Craggy respectfully taking their seats. Arthur sat next to another department head, while Craggy sat with Lucius and his party. The only real motion of substance was a promise to address the now empty Nott seat, and to figure out the Yaxley seat at the next session.
Harry thought about bringing up the fact that it was now obvious that Voldemort had returned, but had been warned by Albus the week prior that the votes to address it weren't in their favor just yet. The thought was infuriating to the teen, but he trusted Albus would make his move at the earliest opportunity.
He was one of the first to congratulate Arthur, shaking the man's hand happily. Arthur was very excited, and promised to do his best, which had always been enough for Harry. After a quick hug for Sirius, the young Lord made his way back to Hogwarts, looking forward to his bed.
—
September 15, 1995
News of Yaxley's death came with breakfast the next day. The owls swept in with special editions of the Prophet, which claimed the cause was suicide, due to recent 'trauma'. Harry knew better, as did those that mattered. The article alluded to Harry without outright naming him, and he was once again the subject of stares from his schoolmates. His eyes found their way to the Slytherin table, and he caught Daphne looking at him with concern before turning back to her usual mask of indifference.
He decided to ignore the students' attention, knowing any reaction he had would just fan the flames. Ron, Hermione, and Neville attempted to distract him throughout breakfast and on the way to 'Defense', but Harry was feeling pretty low as he entered the classroom. He'd known what the likely repercussions of his actions would be, but he couldn't help but think he would have been smarter to demand Yaxley swear to submit himself for questioning.
The Ministry would've probably swept it under the rug, but knowing Amelia better now, he realized she would have always leaked the information, something he wished he'd known the day of the duel. Cursing the timing of it all, Harry dropped heavily into his seat at the back of the room. Neville took the seat next to him to his surprise, as he'd sat alone for the first few classes.
Umbridge swept into the classroom, her eyes red, and Harry knew his rules for the woman were about to be tested.
"Today," the woman began seriously. "We all see what poor choices can lead to. Lord Yaxley was the victim of someone else's poor choice. For those of you that knew him, I want you to know my office is open to you."
The woman locked eyes with Harry, who was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her words had been accusatory, but not overtly so. Surprisingly, the woman cleared her throat with a disgusting "Hem, Hem," and moved on.
"Next month you will all be doing oral presentations on a spell of your choosing. The presentation must be seven to nine minutes long, and will inform your classmates of the history, etymology, and uses of the spell. You will be required to demonstrate the spell only once, and I encourage you all to choose from the first four chapters of the textbook."
Daphne raised her hand from the table in front of Harry and was acknowledged. "Professor, what if we all choose the same spell?"
Clearly not aware of the possibility, Umbridge hesitated for a moment. "I will give you all twenty minutes to look for three spells that interest you, and afterwards I will go down the roster and we'll name them aloud. If all three of your choices are taken, I will drop your name to the bottom of the roster to provide time to look again. If it is a spell the Ministry deems important, I may allow multiple students to research it. Please begin."
Harry didn't bother opening his textbook, and didn't plan to complete the assignment. The only reason he remained in the class at all was because of the woman's evident agreement to his instructions, and a desire to know what she was teaching. So far the answer was nothing.
The assignment actually surprised him, though, as it seemed like it could be beneficial to the other students. Even if the first few chapters of the book covered nothing but household and cosmetic charms, it was something new besides reading from the dry textbook everyday.
When the time was up and the roster call began, the first few students had their choices approved by Umbridge immediately. The first problem she encountered was from Hermione, of course. When her name was called, the girl chose a diplomatic argument.
"Professor, I'd like to research the Patronus charm. It's a purely Light spell, and Ministry approved. I'd like to work in the Ministry one day, like you have, and I feel researching the spell would be beneficial to my future resume."
Harry hid a smile at the girl's subtle manipulation of the woman, making a note to ask her for lessons.
"Miss Granger, the Patronus spell is as Light as they come, and very important to know, but devilishly hard to cast. The only people capable of casting a Patronus in this castle are the teachers, and I'm sorry to say that we are simply too busy to help you to master the spell."
Harry watched as Daphne's hand immediately rose in front of him.
"Miss Greengrass?" the obnoxiously 'pleasant' woman acknowledged.
"Professor, I also chose the Patronus charm. My father has often had cause to visit Azkaban to interview its occupants, and he's spoken of its importance. Could I ask him to help me with the spell at the coming Hogsmeade weekend?"
"Your father is a great man," the woman answered, clearly choosing to schmooze Daphne instead of holding a grudge towards her father. "But I'm afraid one session will not be sufficient for you to master the spell. If there were a way for you to learn it, I would allow the both of you to do so. Unfortunately, that isn't realistic."
An idea popped into Harry's head, and he quickly scribbled a note and passed it to Neville. The teen read it and raised his hand immediately.
"Mr. Longbottom?"
"Madam, if we were able to find a student with the ability to cast the spell, could Hermione, Daphne, and myself do our presentation on the Patronus?"
"Mr. Longbottom, I assure you it just isn't possible. It's not a spell for school children."
"Yes, ma'am," Neville replied respectfully. "But if there's a student capable, maybe someone doing independent study on the spell, would we be allowed? I'd like to follow in my parents' footsteps as an auror for the Ministry, and the Patronus would be important to know."
Harry was blown away by his friend's improvisation, and smothered a grin.
"Mr. Longbottom, your parents were two of the Ministry's best. If you can find a tutor, I'll allow it." she finished with a condescending smile, certain they wouldn't be successful.
Ron quickly raised his hand as he caught on, and was acknowledged. "Could I be added to that list, please? I'd like to become an auror as well."
Umbridge wrinkled her nose slightly in his direction before nodding. "Mr. Weasley, if any of you can find such a student capable of casting a corporeal Patronus, you are welcome to try. However, the time spent in your search will take time away from completing your presentation of another more appropriate spell. I appreciate the interest you four are showing, but I suggest setting your sights on something more manageable for fifth years."
Harry waited a beat to make sure no other students asked to join the group. When no hands were raised, and Umbridge began to move on, he drew his wand. "Expecto Patronum," he whispered, thinking of his time spent with his parents, and Prongs scampered through the room.
Umbridge clutched her heart as she leaned against her desk, searching to see who cast the animal. When her eyes finally found Harry's he sent her a pointed look, daring her to complain. She seemed to waffle back and forth for a few moments, before finally conceding.
"If Mr. Potter is willing to help you four, you may present on the Patronus charm," she growled frustratedly.
Harry smiled, dismissing his Patronus and returning his wand to his holster. He ignored the looks from his peers who were as ignorant of his ability as Umbridge, and put his head down on his desk. The rest of the roster was called, and with everyone still distracted, none but a handful noticed his name wasn't called.
As class ended Harry's new apprentices approached. Umbridge retreated to her office, but he quickly gestured the four out into the hallway, not trusting the classroom to be clear of eavesdropping spells. He motioned for the group to keep their silence until the other students left, and saw Daphne wave her friends away casually.
"Neville, that was brilliant!" Hermione said brightly, smiling in his direction.
"I just read a slip of parchment," he responded.
"No," Harry disagreed. "You took my idea and ran with it. I was impressed, too."
Neville blushed at the praise, but was saved from responding by an eager Daphne, her normal public indifference nowhere to be seen.
"You can cast a Patronus?"
"Obviously," Harry responded with a grin. "Since third year."
The girl smiled brightly in sudden recognition, and Harry's stomach somersaulted.
"That's what you fired at Malfoy when they tried to interrupt the quidditch match," she said confidently.
"Thanks for being a fan," Harry countered teasingly.
"Fan of the game," Daphne corrected warningly, a slight tinge of pink on her cheeks.
"Don't be ashamed," Harry replied jokingly, ignoring the warning. "I'm worth watching."
"Oh you're definitely worth watching, but not in the way you seem to believe."
"I'll take what I can get. You sure you wanna work with these three knuckleheads?"
"It's not them I'm worried about, Potter," she smirked. "My father only warned me about you."
"He was right to do so," he agreed, his expression matching hers. "Are you going to listen?"
"I rarely do."
The others were shocked by the normally aloof Slytherin, but Harry almost expected her response. He couldn't help but smile at the girl, excited by the unexpected scenario.
"I accept your humble requests," he said pompously to the group. "I shall bestow wisdom upon you, and will accept candies and treats as recompense."
Ron rolled his eyes. "You think it's too late to switch spells?"
—
At dinner Hermione took a deep breath and looked across the table at Harry.
"Can we take a walk when you're finished?"
"I think you missed," he answered teasingly. "Your boyfriend is the gangly one sitting next to you."
"I know where my boyfriend is, Harry Potter. It's not him I want to speak to."
"You sure he won't get jealous?"
Hermione gave Ron a warning look. "If he does, he'll regret it."
Ron swallowed his mashed potatoes with difficulty, calmly looking at Neville who was sitting next to Harry.
"Mate, how am I in trouble? I said nothing."
"Innate ability, maybe?"
Hermione and Harry laughed at the response as Ron turned back to the pair. "Go take a walk. Go for a fly. Go do whatever, and leave me to my food."
Hermione smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Harry grinned at the pair, following her as she stood to leave.
"If I'm not back by curfew, call the authorities. Remember, Hermione Jean Granger. About 5 foot 5, bushy brown hair..."
"Move it, Potter."
"Really bossy," Harry continued in a whisper to Ron and Neville. "Tell Hedwig to avenge me."
Ron chucked a roll in response, which Harry caught and happily took a bite of before heading towards the doors. Hermione was waiting beyond them, hands on her hips.
"Where to, mi'lady?" he asked with an elaborate bow.
"Just walk," she answered, unable to maintain her stern look.
The two meandered in silence for a few minutes, though Harry could almost see the wheels in Hermione's head spinning. It was a dreary day outside, so their options were limited, until he remembered a conversation with Dobby over the summer.
"This way," he said as he led the way to the seventh floor. When he found the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy the elf had described, he stopped dramatically.
"Ta-da!"
"Harry," Hermione offered confusedly. "I think you may need Madam Pomfrey."
"Just trust me," he countered with a grin. "I want you to walk back and forth past ol' Barney here, and think of a place where you feel happy."
Hermione, though skeptical, followed his instructions. After the third pass, a door began to appear in the wall opposite the tapestry, and her head whipped around to look at Harry in shock.
"What is this place?"
"The Room of Requirement. Dobby told me about it, but I haven't had a chance to check it out."
He opened the door confidently, stepping into what appeared to be a muggle park. The sky was clear, the sun shining brightly, and in the middle of the room a small playground was surrounded by a variety of benches and picnic tables.
"Where are we?" Harry asked gently, seeing his friend was overwhelmed.
"This is the park in my neighborhood," the girl answered with wonderment. "Me and Dad walk down here every evening while Mum cooks. When I was younger, Dad and I tried to help her with dinner, and she banned us for messing around. We've done it ever since. It's my favorite thing about being home."
Harry was silent, letting the girl get her bearings. After a few long moments, her eyes cleared a bit, and she turned to him.
"How?"
"I don't really know. Dobby said the elves use the room for storage, but it can become whatever someone needs. He thinks it's been here since the founders."
"This is amazing! We need to start doing our training here! We can turn it into the basement at the Manor."
Harry nodded. That had been his intention, but with everything else going on, he'd forgotten about the conversation with his friend.
"The magic is unbelievable," Hermione whispered, still obviously amazed by the room.
She slowly made her way over to the swings, carefully sitting in one, unsure of its ability to hold her weight. When it did, she beamed at her friend.
"It's real! Come swing with me!"
"Real might be too strong a word," Harry replied as he joined her.
They swung back and forth for a few minutes, enjoying the nostalgia. After they both had their fill, they let the swings lose momentum until they were almost stationary.
"Thank you for bringing me here, Harry," Hermione said with a happy smile.
"Thanks for trusting me. Shall we move on to the yelling portion of the evening?"
"I'm not going to yell at you," she huffed, causing him to chuckle in response. "I just want to know what's going on with you and Daphne."
Harry expected the question, but was hesitant to even put words to what he felt from the few interactions he'd had with the girl.
"There's nothing going on."
"Right," Hermione said skeptically. "Harry, in our four years of friendship, I've never seen you flirt once until today."
"I wasn't flirting!"
She laughed at his indignation, not bothering to respond.
"I've said like fifty words to the girl in my life, Hermione," he continued defensively.
"That doesn't change the fact that you were flirting, or that she was flirting back. When I asked Ron about it he just rolled his eyes! Something is going on."
"She was flirting with me?" he asked in surprise.
"'My father warned me about you, Harry'," Hermione mocked breathily. "'But I don't plan to listen. Take me away from this place. I'll go anywhere with you'."
"You and I remember the conversation very differently."
"She was so obviously flirting! Though, I'm not surprised you didn't notice."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that on any given day so far this year you've had no less than three girls bat their eyes at you, you idiot. They come to ask you for the bacon, or they brush your arm on the way through a doorway. Half the girls in this school have been flirting with you since you stepped off the train!"
"But… why?" Harry asked, completely confused.
"Do I need to give you the talk?" Hermione asked with a smirk.
"NO! Please no. I mean why are they flirting now?"
"Harry, you're the most talented wizard I've ever met, but what you know about girls wouldn't fill a thimble."
"Rude."
"Accurate. Let's think about this," she responded, raising a thumb. "You're a Lord all of a sudden," she raised another finger. "You're the Triwizard champion." Another. "The Boy-Who-Lived. You proved to the world how far you'll go to protect your honor. You showed mercy afterwards. You're an incredible quidditch player. You're as rich as Midas. You've grown five inches since last year. You're quite attractive. And you're a genuinely good person."
Harry listened to the girl's rant which only stopped when she ran out of fingers. Uncomfortable with the list, he tried to laugh it off.
"I didn't know you cared."
"Shut it, Harry. Of course I care, you're like a brother to me. I'm being serious."
"Okay!" he conceded awkwardly. "But the way you say those things makes it sound like the girls are all flirting with me because of what I am. There's not a girl here that actually knows me other than you."
"I'm not saying that," she backpedaled slightly. "I'm sure some of them are probably thinking about your power or your money. But I'm also sure some of them are actually interested in you as a person."
"This is silly, Hermione. I don't have the time or energy for dating."
"Harry," she responded gently, turning in her swing to face him head on. "Can I ask for you to be absolutely honest with me for a second?"
"Of course."
"In the few interactions you've had with Daphne, what did you feel?"
"Why do you want to know?" he whined, not wanting to answer.
"Because you're my best friend, dummy. I want to know about what you're going through more than just summaries of what's going on at the Manor. I want to know about how you're coping with stuff, or how you're handling Umbridge. I want to know how you're feeling about life, and if you're overwhelmed. I don't want this to be a business relationship, I care about you too much to not want to know."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck, not wanting to be open about this, but not wanting to hurt his friend either.
"Hermione, you and Ron have been with me since first year. You, especially, have stuck with me through everything that has mattered in my life. This isn't a 'business relationship'. You said I'm like a brother to you, and that's definitely a reciprocated feeling. You, Ron, Sirius, and Remus are the closest thing I have to a family."
"But you don't want to answer the question."
"Because I don't know! Not because I want to keep it secret," Harry said frustratedly. "Ever since I saw her at the bookstore in Diagon, she's rattled me. I can't seem to stop freezing up when we make eye contact. We spoke on the train, and I wanted it to be for longer. And when I was joking with her earlier, my stomach was doing flips."
"Sounds like you do know, to me."
"But I don't know her, Hermione. I've only spoken to her three times in my life. I trust her dad completely, but I don't know her at all. All I know is that she's beautiful, and people are intimidated by her because of the coldness she gives them when she's approached."
"That's an unfair characterization, but I'll admit she does have that reputation. One more question, how do you feel about working with her on the Patronus?"
Harry's stomach gave a lurch, and he glared at it in betrayal. That was all the answer Hermione seemed to need, as she burst into laughter. His glare shifted to the hysterical girl, but was completely ineffectual. If anything it furthered her hilarity.
Harry kicked off with his feet, swinging angrily, which only seemed to send his friend off the deep end. Hermione had tears streaming from her eyes, almost sobbing with laughter. After a frustrating couple of minutes, she finally started pulling herself together, sniffling and hiccuping as she did.
"Harry…" she wheezed eventually. "It's hard to be intimidated by someone swinging on a swing set. You look so ridiculous!"
As his friend had a laughter relapse, Harry finally saw the humor in the situation. Over the summer Sirius had tried to angrily sip a milkshake through a straw, and it was the dumbest thing he'd ever seen. Not to mention when he tried to angrily eat a muffin. He made a mental note to add 'swing' to his list of things not to do while trying to be angry.
He finally shared in the girl's laughter, slowing his momentum as he did. They both slowly composed themselves, moving to a nearby bench.
"I know Daphne a bit better than you do," Hermione eventually offered. "She's been my partner for a few projects in Runes, and though I wouldn't call her a friend, she's never been rude to me. She's absolutely brilliant. She's been third in our class every year."
"Losing to you," Harry smirked, proud of his friend.
"But I bet she doesn't spend every waking hour studying like I've had to," Hermione admitted.
"Daniel mentioned after the attack on Gringotts she started training every day."
"Then I'm sure she's also extremely capable. Like I said, I don't know her well, but from what I do know, I doubt she's after your fame. She seems content to fade into the background as much as her looks will allow."
Harry nodded, having noticed the same the last few weeks.
"Her family is rich, and has their own Faithful Eight seat, so I doubt she cares about that. And after we split from her in the hallway earlier, I glanced back. She was watching you with a very confused look on her face."
"So what are you saying?" he asked, nervous energy coursing through him.
"I'm saying I think she likes you too, and could be a good match for you."
Harry stood and began to pace back and forth, thinking quickly. He couldn't ignore the wild hope he felt at the idea, but he also didn't want the distraction of a girlfriend, or to put Daphne in danger by associating with her.
"Hermione, it doesn't matter," he realized. "Voldemort is after me. His band of dumbasses, too. I can't do anything about it even if I do like her. I can't make her a target."
Hermione sighed at the stubborn look on his face, but nodded seriously. "I figured we'd get to that eventually, and I don't think you're wrong to think about it. I'm not telling you to propose to the girl tomorrow, I'm only saying to let yourself get to know her. It's fifty fifty that you might not want to pursue anything even if you felt you could. Maybe she's a closeted bigot, or laughs like a donkey."
Harry smiled at the image, but knew it was unlikely. He felt sick to his stomach all of a sudden, but he knew he was right to not pursue her.
"She's also a Slytherin," Hermione added, shocking her friend.
"Hermione Granger," he jokingly gasped. "You've been hanging out with Ron too much."
"I don't mean it that way," she said, rolling her eyes. "I mean it in regards to the politics of the school. Being the Great Harry Potter's girlfriend wouldn't make her life in Slytherin any easier. Dating any Gryffindor would cause problems."
Harry knew she was right, but couldn't help but think of his ancestors.
"Charlus and Dorea did it," he muttered before he could stop himself.
"And maybe you will, too," Hermione responded with a slightly victorious smile. "Just don't shut the idea down until you get to know her. If your initial feelings are correct, she wouldn't thank you for making decisions for her."
Not liking how conflicted he felt, he didn't respond. Hermione seemed to understand, and after a few moments the pair returned to their Common Room, Harry deep in thought the entire journey.