Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the related characters. The Harry Potter series is created by JK Rowling. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story… As always…
For reading convenience, the bold parts are excerpts from the original version.
Chapter 1
For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she said, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.
"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge, "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
"No, Professor Umbridge," said the class in unison.
Professor Umbridge froze. She gazed in shock at the assembled class, then at the neatly stacked books of Defensive Magical Theory in front of each desk. Then her blank expression turned into a kind of fury that she tried very hard to control.
"But you have got them!" she said in a voice bursting with unsuppressed anger, "You have…"
"Yes, we have," said Hermione fiercely, her hand in the air, "But your rules do not instruct us to answer honestly or dishonestly. You just tell us to answer you in such ways."
Professor Umbridge was now positively swelling in rage, the bow on top of her head quivering as she pointed a similarly quivering hand towards Hermione.
"But if your eyesight is not as poorly as we all think, given that you are well capable of distinguishing between having books and not having books," continued Hermione, "It seems to me a downright waste of time to be asking students useless questions and demanding a uniform answer, don't you think?"
Many of the class murmured in agreement, even Seamus.
It seemed that Professor Umbridge did not want to get into trouble at her very first O.W. L. class. She did not shout but said coldly, "Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger. Now, if we have finished discussing pointless issues, let's move on to class. I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."
…
There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.
"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh, "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
"Of course we are," said Ron in an audible whisper beside Harry, "With a lunatic like you teaching us."
Professor Umbridge, with a great effort it seemed, ignored him, "I would like to remind you that students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class."
Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione.
"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"
"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"
"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice.
"No, but -"
"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way -"
"What use is that?" said Harry loudly. "If we're going to be attacked it won't be in a -"
"Hand, Mr. Potter!" sang Professor Umbridge.
…
"I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "But you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "Extremely dangerous half-breeds."
"Like you, perhaps?" said Ron, louder still, "A crossing between a toad and a hag?"
His voice was drowned by Dean, who piped up angrily, "If you mean Professor Lupin, he was the best we ever -"
"Hand, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying - you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day -"
"Please, Professor, could you explain why you are confident of that fact? Could you explain why you are so sure that we have been frightened into believing that we are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day?" asked Hermione in a mock eager voice, "Or, unless I'm much mistaken… Are you a Legilimens?"
Many of the class clapped their hands to their mouth very cooperatively to Hermione's words, shrieking in fake surprise and smiling to themselves.
"Excuse me?" said Professor Umbridge.
"Oh, of course!" said Hermione, her voice almost as sweet as Professor Umbridge, "Surely our dear Professor Umbridge would be a Legilimens of course… Though not a very good Legilimens, because you read wrongly. We don't believe that we are likely to meet Dark attacks every day for if we do, we won't feel secure enough to go to your class," she put a heavy emphasis on the last two words.
"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"
Hermione put up her hand; Professor Umbridge turned away from her.
"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you -"
"Well, he turned out to be a Death Eater - like you - didn't he?" said Dean Thomas hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads -"
"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" trilled Professor Umbridge.
…
"You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead -"
"What's his name? Say it!" said Harry angrily, "Or are you too afraid to say your master's name?"
"Mr.-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."
"Prove it!" said Harry, "How can you prove it's a lie?"
"Detention, Mr. Potter!" said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners.'"
…
"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," she said coldly.
"I repeat, prove it!" said Harry, "How can you prove it's a lie? If you can't, that consequently leads to the conclusion that the Ministry of Magic is nothing more than a bunch of lying hypocrites!"
Professor Umbridge opened her mouth to speak, but Harry talked over her, "The thing is, you can't! Because the only witness to that incident is me! And I saw him murdered! I saw him! You have no witness, no evidence whatsoever to support your rubbishy theory."
"The only evidence you have is your word, Mr. Potter, and we can very well believe that you're lying -"
"Whereas you have no evidence! It's one to zero - oh yes, I forgot, you can never count on a Death Eater's brain."
"There is no other information to support your theory, Mr. Potter."
"No other information? There is a whole lot of information out there! The Portkey Cup, for instance. You can check the Triwizard Cup and perform Priori Incantatem and to where it took me last June! You can have a look at my wand and see the spells it cast and to whom they were cast! And there is Barty Crouch, but yes - he's been kissed by the dementors of your beloved Fudge! But there is another way, isn't it? We can extract his memories and see what he had done last term and what he had said under Veritaserum! Hermione's looked it all up! Memories are stored in the mind, you idiot, not in the soul, so he would still possess the memory of his confession even after your hasty attempts to cover up the truth! Let us see then, what his memories will tell us - and whether it confirms my words, or yours…"
"You may wonder," continued Harry amidst the unnatural silence of the classroom, "Why I'm telling you all these. Why would I remind you of the remaining pieces of evidence that you hadn't yet erased? My answer is this: there are none so blind as those who will not see. You know the truth and so does the Ministry, but you refuse to acknowledge it. Nothing, not even tonnes of proofs or hundreds of witnesses can persuade you to see what is truly out there."
Nobody spoke for an entire minute. Professor Umbridge was shaking, her eyes bulging as she glared at Harry.
"Now, before you all come to the statement that the Ministry's the one that lies, I felt obliged to say this, because I simply could not stop pondering why - why would a high-ranking Ministry official like Professor Umbridge go to such length to cover up the crimes of an absolute Death Eater; why would she and Fudge make themselves so busy and devoted to protecting Voldemort from the public's view; why would they utilise so many different approaches to discredit a man called Albus Dumbledore and a boy called Harry Potter?
"Are they against us? Or, are they for Lord V-"
"Shut up!" screamed Umbridge, "Shut up! Potter! How dare you!"
Harry stood his ground, staring down superiorly at Professor Umbridge, who pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink, and started scribbling, hunched over so that Harry could not see what she was writing. Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that he could not open it. She threw the parchment at him.
"Take this to Professor McGonagall, Potter!" said Professor Umbridge, gritting her teeth.
He took the parchment. The room was very quiet.
"But I don't think I want to, Professor Umbridge."
"What is this?" shrieked Umbridge, her expression twitching from anger to disbelief.
"Incendio!"
The parchment caught fire instantly under Harry's wand. Illuminated by the firelight were Harry's disdainful sneer, Professor Umbridge's exasperated face and cheers of the students. Less than a second later, the piece of parchment curled into ashes and fell to the ground.
"Detention! How dare you, Potter! I'm going to give you a week's worth of detentions!"
"Now that we've all seen how the Ministry's lying for their own good, bullying questioners to hold their tongues and pretending to be a generous and reliable government? Well, Professor Umbridge, your detention threat just proves my point to a greater extent," said Harry, shrugging, "Oh yes, I forgot, you can never count on a Death Eater's brain."
"Potter! You -"
But the rest of her sentence was never heard. Every single member of the class had got to their feet, applauding heartily at Harry's words and shouting insults at Umbridge as the bell rang, barely recognizable over the noises.
In the confusion of leaving the classroom, Harry felt someone, or rather, something, close around his throat. He turned around to see Professor Umbridge, seething with frustration, dragging him along with her.
"You are going to see Professor McGonagall whether you want it or not!" she bellowed in his ear. Harry saw Ron and Hermione running at him, but held out a hand to stop their progress as he mouthed, "It's ok!"
…