CHAPTER 30: A VISIT TO MADAM PUDDIFOOT'S

Harry gazed at the elegant red and gold curtains that billowed gently in the breeze from the open window. A fleeting thought crossed his mind, tempting him to enchant them into shades of silver and blue, his favorite colors. But he quickly dismissed the idea, not wanting to give Seamus any additional ammunition for his ongoing feud with Ron. Their incessant arguments were already grating on everyone's nerves. He hastily donned his robes and settled into a chair in the Gryffindor common room.

Nev, with his disheveled hair and a bag slung over his shoulder, descended the stairs, precariously clutching a pile of books in his arms. He took refuge in the arm of Harry's chair, setting his belongings in order. "Seamus and Ron are at it again," he reported, his voice weary. "They were engaged in a heated debate on the Hogwarts Express, and now they're in the bathroom, shouting at each other."

"About the Daily Prophet, I presume?" Harry asked, stifling a yawn. "Does Seamus genuinely believe everything in that paper?"

Nev shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure if he believes it, but his mum aligns with the Ministry's perspective and trusts the Prophet. Ron, in his less tactful moments, insulted her and anyone who subscribes to its content. Seamus couldn't let that slide."

"Well, at least it's not about me this time," Harry mused.

"They didn't seem too concerned about what the Prophet said regarding you," Nev added. "Ron did mention that his mum was upset, but he couldn't care less about their words. According to him, it's none of his business, especially since you two aren't friends anymore."

"That might be the smartest thing he's said recently," Harry quipped, clearing some space for Nev's books on the chair's armrest.

"Second smartest," Nev corrected, chuckling. "He does believe in Dumbledore and, by extension, that you were coerced into the Triwizard Tournament by Voldemort, rather than being duped by some dark wizard."

'You said the name without stuttering,' Nev observed.

'It gave Gran an awful shock,' Nev slumped into a chair. 'She was rambling on about how corrupt and inept the Ministry had become, how there was no valid reason for me to read anything in the Daily Prophet if it was essentially promoting You-Know-Who. I corrected her, mentioned the name, and she fell silent before promptly renewing the subscription.'

'She must have realized you knew what you wanted, Nev,' Harry remarked.

Ron, wearing a thunderous expression, stormed through the common room.

'Do you think I should say "I told you so" to Ron?' Harry joked.

'Not unless you want to start a fight and cause trouble.'

'I'm only kidding, Nev,' Harry assured him. 'It would be unwise to sow discord between myself and someone who's fighting one of my battles on my behalf.'

'Breakfast?' Nev asked.

'Definitely. We've got Snape with the Slytherins first thing again. I need a full stomach to deal with that.'

As Harry descended the staircase toward the Great Hall, other students seemed to part like a sea, making way for him. Neville stayed by his side, and most of the older students opted to ignore him. However, the younger ones, those under fourteen, scattered like pigeons fleeing a hawk.

"Such gullible idiots," Harry mused as he settled at a table near the hall's entrance.

'So where were you on the train this morning then?' Neville asked, helping himself to the toast rack.

A few of the more anxious Gryffindor first-years scurried past them near the doors, huddling together as they passed Harry.

'I chose to travel alone,' Harry explained. 'I didn't fancy sharing a compartment on the train with any of that bunch, so I kept to myself.'

Nev nodded. 'I'm impressed you managed to stay hidden throughout the entire journey. I'm pretty sure Malfoy was on a wild goose chase looking for you the whole time.'

'I would've been more conspicuous,' Harry said, indicating the several meters of empty space surrounding their table. 'And let's be honest, Malfoy's absence didn't exactly dampen the spirits on the train, did it?'

Nev playfully wagged his finger. 'Well, nobody wants to sit next to a dangerous murderer, Harry.'

Harry snorted. 'Then why are you here, Nev? Safety in numbers?'

Hermione squeezed herself into the seat next to Harry, her bushy hair in a wild tangle that looked like she'd just been electrocuted. 'What happened in the maze?'

'Good morning, Hermione,' Harry greeted her, raising an eyebrow. 'What's piqued your interest?'

She gasped. 'Viktor died in there.'

'So I've heard,' Harry replied, sympathy tinging his expression. 'I'm sorry, Hermione. I know you and he were friends.'

'The Daily Prophet is keen to suggest that you were responsible,' Hermione continued.

Nice try.

'I'm not giving that paper the time of day. Honestly, I've seen more truth in Professor Trelawney's weekly death predictions,' Harry sighed. 'I didn't witness Krum's death. I'm sorry.'

'No, it's okay, Harry,' Hermione said, nibbling at her lip. 'I just... I need to know what happened. Dumbledore said Voldemort was responsible, the Ministry blamed Ludo Bagman, but neither of them could have possibly cast the curse themselves.'

She won't let this go until she hits a real dead end or believes she's found an answer. Harry considered his options. Maybe Cedric will steer her away from this inquiry, or she'll run into a dead end on her own.

'Have you thought about asking Cedric Diggory?' he suggested. 'He's the only other champion who might be able to provide some insight, although I'm not sure how much he'll remember. I stunned him when I rushed to investigate the screams.'

Hermione paled. 'Screams?'

Harry swallowed the icy lump that had formed in his chest. 'The Beauxbatons champion. Someone had cast the Cruciatus Curse on her.'

"Oh," Hermione said, some color returning to her face. "Not Viktor."

A shiver coursed through Harry's veins. 'Ask Diggory. The Ministry is advised by Malfoy's father, and he's probably not the only Voldemort supporter in their ranks.' Harry cast a sidelong glance at the distant, pink figure of Professor Umbridge.

Hermione followed Harry's gaze, a sense of foreboding washing over her.

So it begins.

She poured herself a glass of water and tried to change the subject. 'So, Harry, how was your summer?'

Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

'Sorry,' she muttered.

'It was surprisingly tolerable,' Harry replied.

'Your relatives?' Hermione asked.

Harry grinned. 'They weren't any trouble at all.'

They did try once or twice. Harry allowed a broad smile to creep across his face as he recalled Vernon's quality alone time with the asp in the cupboard under the stairs and Dudley's horror as his steak transformed into a pool of maggots. Aunt Petunia should've really thanked me for that, I think it helped his diet more than any number of grapefruits ever could.

'That's good,' Hermione said. But then she spotted Cedric and hurriedly left the table.

Bye, then. Harry helped himself to more eggs.

'What did happen in the maze?' Nev whispered.

'You don't want to know, Nev,' Harry said. 'I'd rather not talk about it, I'm afraid.'

'Fair enough.' Nev balanced slices of tomato on his toast and took a bite. He groaned as he glanced at the clock. 'Potions...'

'Potions,' Harry echoed. He rushed to finish the last few forkfuls of eggs, gathered his bag from under the bench, and followed Nev to the potions classroom.

'Ah,' Snape's murmur echoed from the back of the dungeon as they found their seats. 'At last, we have the privilege of Mr. Potter's company again.' He strode down the aisle between the desks, tutting under his breath. 'This June, you will all be sitting an examination in which you'll prove just how much you've learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Some of you...' Snape's eyes drifted past Nev to rest on Harry. 'Some of you have not spent all of the last four years as wisely as they could have done.' He waved his wand at the board, revealing the recipe for the class.

The Draught of Peace.

'Partner up,' Snape drawled. 'And I suggest due diligence in the preparation of this particular potion; it requires a delicate touch.'

'Come on, Nev,' Harry began to arrange his things across the desk between them.

'You want to work with me?' Nev squinted at him. 'In potions?'

'Why would I choose anyone else?' Harry asked.

'I'm terrible at potions,' Nev admitted.

'You don't think well with Snape looming over you,' Harry said. 'There's no way he'll be able to pass up commenting on me, so if we're together, that means I'll draw all his attention.'

'Ok, then,' Nev agreed, reaching for the moonstone.

Harry caught Nev's hand. 'Make sure everything happens exactly as it says on the board. I don't think Snape was joking about due diligence.'

Nev gulped but began to add the powdered moonstone in small sprinkles as he stirred. The potion shifted to a bright purple, almost like a shade of purple that reminded them both of Vernon on the verge of an explosion.

Nev's hand hovered near the syrup of hellebore.

'Let it simmer,' Harry whispered.

Snape stared at the pair of them from his shadowy vantage point at the back of the room, an enigmatic expression on his face. Harry ignored him.

A startled yelp echoed across the lab. Ron and Dean hastily retreated from a potion that was spitting bright violet sparks and hissing loudly. The bowl of powdered moonstone sank into the cauldron.

'That will be zero, Weasley, Thomas,' Snape sneered and vanished the contents. 'Apparently, when I instructed you to be careful, you believed yourselves above listening.'

The potion in front of Harry flared pink. Nev stopped stirring and stared at it, puzzled. He shifted his gaze back and forth between the instructions and the cauldron.

Is he truly so surprised that it's working? Harry began grinding porcupine quills into a fine powder, leaving Nev in charge of keeping the potion simmering.

Snape drifted over to loom over them. 'Longbottom, you've found yourself a new partner.'

'Add these, Nev,' Harry said, passing the porcupine quills across, and then he stepped between Nev and Snape, making a show of retrieving the powdered unicorn horn.

Snape fixed Harry with a piercing stare, then turned on his heel and stalked to the front of the class.

Their concoction transformed into a thin, ivory-hued liquid that, when Harry or Neville occasionally forgot to stir and it grew too hot, thickened just enough to release the faintest shimmer. Around them, the rest of the class either sat on their hands or continued to add more porcupine quills to their yellow-tinted potions.

'We did okay,' Harry commented, glancing around. 'A bit better than most.'

Malfoy's potion had reached a similar state as theirs, though it had a peculiar glow and appeared more yellow than white. Hermione's glimmered just as the recipe prescribed, but it remained an odd silvery-grey.

It looks a bit like Bertha Jorkins' hand.

'If you are... finished,' Snape's eyes scanned the class, briefly pausing on Harry's, Hermione's, and Malfoy's potions. 'Bring a flask of your potion to my desk.'

'I'll do it, Nev,' Harry offered. 'You start tidying up.'

He filled one of the flasks with extreme care. After all, Nev had managed to accidentally weaponize a Pepper-Up Potion, so it was best to exercise caution with this one.

Snape slid the flask across his desk to join Hermione's and Malfoy's. 'Remain behind, Potter. I need to ensure your latest burst of excellence hasn't dragged your grade down below its usual level of mediocrity.'

Well, it wouldn't be a Potions class without detention or lost points.

Harry leaned against the corner of the bench nearest Snape's desk, waiting for the rest of the class to leave.

'Why did you partner with Longbottom?' Snape demanded.

Harry kept his face impassive. 'He's my friend.'

'Well, despite your choice of potions partner, your brew is marginally better than the only other two I shall spend my time grading.' Snape's tone shifted to something almost neutral. 'It seems you might have a chance to continue learning from me after this year, so long as you keep Longbottom from destroying your work.'

'Perhaps, sir,' Harry replied. 'You might consider not looming over him as he works; he doesn't need to be intimidated.'

Snape's eyes flashed. 'I've kept you behind, Potter, to inform you that you need to be much more careful. The headmaster believes you'll play a crucial role in the upcoming battle against the Dark Lord. I've cautioned him not to expect too much from a child, but he insisted. The headmaster wanted me to gently remind you that apparating around your house and vanishing every other day is not a good idea.'

Harry scowled. How did he know? And why tell Snape of all people?

' I will tell you that not only is it not a good idea to risk the wrath of the Ministry, but it's a dreadful notion to act so irresponsibly in the face of the Dark Lord's return.' Snape circled around his desk, pulling out a thin parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. He sneered as he handed it to Harry. 'Black sends his love. He would have risked his life sneaking out to see you if we hadn't promised him a way of communicating. So take this. It's an enchanted mirror, two-way. Simply speak Black's first name to activate it, and if he's near the mirror, which I'm sure he will be at all times, you'll get a response.'

'Thank you, sir,' Harry said, accepting the parcel and slipping it inside his robes.

'And, Potter,' Snape's demeanor returned to its usual neutrality. 'Next time you want to distract the Dark Lord, it would be wise not to do so by claiming to have killed his more valuable servants.'

Harry's gaze snapped up to meet his professor's dark eyes, and he emptied his thoughts.

'We both know that you lied to the Dark Lord, but he seems to believe you, despite any advice to the contrary.' Snape leaned across his desk and grabbed Harry's wrist, his fingernails digging into Harry's skin. 'Do you understand, Potter? He is taking you seriously now.'

Harry tugged his arm free. 'He wasn't before?'

'Get out, Potter.' Snape's tone remained devoid of anger.

Time to head to Madam Puddifoot's. Harry made his way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I'm already late, so I suppose her behavior will give me a clue as to why she's here.

He slipped inside. 'Sorry I'm late, professor. Professor Snape needed to speak to me.'

The squat, pink-draped woman looked up from the front. 'Mr. Potter...' She simpered. 'Do you have a note?'

'Sadly, the professor neglected to burden me with one,' Harry replied, offering a smile as he took a seat at the back next to Nev.

'That will be ten points from Gryffindor for lying, Potter,' Umbridge's high, girlish voice grated on Harry's nerves. 'Lying is a terrible habit to get into.'

He stifled a wry smile. Ten insignificant house points wasn't a high price to pay for gaining insight into why she was here.

'As I was saying before Mr. Potter started spinning tales, your education in this subject has been woefully fragmented. A new teacher every year, all of them poor choices, and a haphazard curriculum that shows no consideration for the Ministry's guidelines on what you ought to understand.' She tutted, pulled a short, thick wand from her handbag, and gave it a sharp flick. The stack of books on her desk leaped into the air and floated around the room before thudding down before every student.

Defensive Magical Theory. Harry flipped through a few pages filled with childish illustrations and dense text. Well, anyone without outside help or a great deal of natural talent can say goodbye to their OWLs.

'I have a question?' Hermione raised her hand and stared at her open copy.

'Is it about the book, Miss...?' Umbridge adjusted her lurid pink cardigan.

'Granger. And not entirely.'

'If it's not about the book, perhaps you can wait until the end to see me.'

'My question pertains to the aim of the course,' Hermione said. 'It's our OWL year, Professor Umbridge, and I'm not convinced this book will be sufficient to enable us to pass.'

Well, at least she was clever enough not to directly challenge Umbridge in her own classroom. I doubt many others could have framed it as skillfully.

'The Ministry has sought the counsel of several highly experienced witches and wizards, Miss Granger, so there's no need for concern. I can assure all of you that this year will be unlike any other, where you have been exposed to some very hazardous creatures.'

Harry had the sinking feeling she wasn't referring to Grindylows and Boggarts. A chill ran down his spine. A bigot, and probably a pure-blood at that.

'There's no mention of using magic in the book,' Dean called out. 'What are we going to be doing?'

'Please raise your hand if you wish to speak...'

'Dean Thomas.'

'Why on earth, Mr. Thomas, do you believe you would need to use dark or dangerous spells in a classroom?' Umbridge tittered. 'It's quite absurd.'

'How else are we going to be prepared for what's out there?' Ron asked.

Ah, here we go. Harry concealed a smile. Umbridge is about to launch into her manifesto.

'Please raise your hand, Mr. Weasley,' Umbridge snapped.

She recognizes the pure-bloods, then. Harry leaned back in his chair. She's going to make herself very unpopular very fast.

'There's nothing out there,' she plastered a saccharine smile across her pallid face. 'The Ministry is merely concerned for the safety of the children of our society.'

'Then they should teach them defensive magic and let them practice it,' Ron burst out. 'Or You-Know-Who is going to wander across this country killing whomever he pleases, isn't he?'

'Ten points from Gryffindor,' Umbridge hissed. 'I will not tolerate such language or such lies in my classroom. The rumors and fear-mongering of a few questionable individuals are not to be entertained. The Ministry has clearly stated the truth of events.'

Every eye in the classroom turned to him.

Oh no. I don't need to bail Umbridge out of this hole. She can make a mess of it by herself and go back to waiting tables on Valentine's Day in Hogsmeade.

Harry grinned. 'I agree. You shouldn't swear in class, and listening to baseless rumors is inadvisable. It's obvious that to dismiss the rumors, we simply need to find evidence that they aren't true. I'm sure the Ministry is doing its utmost to discredit them.'

Hermione pursed her lips, then gave Harry a small nod. A slow ripple of realization crossed the classroom.

Umbridge's eyes blazed as she maintained her smile. 'Turn to the first chapter of your books, please.'

Harry opened the book to a point about midway through the first chapter and ran his hand along the spine to keep it open. He'd have to ask Salazar about Legilimency. He needed to practice it somehow.

He turned a few pages further and slipped his wand up the inside of his sleeve, catching it when it fell. Small surges of warmth shivered up his arm each time he touched it. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Ron, Dean, and Hermione muttering while Umbridge glared at them.

I'm not first in the line of fire now. And I imagine there'll be quite a few who realize that my enemy's enemy is my friend.

'There's no way I'm going to pass the OWL exam in this class now,' Nev fretted.

'You won't learn anything useful here, but I promised to help you, didn't I?'

'You'll help me pass?' Nev abandoned his book to stare.

'Of course, Nev. But we'll have to find alternative ways to learn what we need.' Harry glanced over at Umbridge, who was busy chattering about Bowtruckles. 'It's clear she's not going to be of much assistance.'

'But the exams...' Nev began.

'We'll cross that bridge when we come to it,' Harry assured him. 'And we have quite a lot of time before the OWLs. In the meantime, we'll study on our own.'

Harry tapped the book's pages. 'Of course, I will.' He turned back to the pages of Umbridge's textbook, flipping through the last few to the end of the chapter. 'We can go up to the Room of Requirement again, Nev,' he muttered. 'We need to find a copy of the curriculum first, though. I've learned a lot of practical spells, but I don't know everything about dark creatures and the like.'

'I'll ask Hermione,' Nev said. 'She'll know—'

Umbridge stood up from the front, peering at the back of the class. 'No whispering! Anyone who's whispering is in detention.'

Harry snorted under his breath. Madam Puddifoot's probably a better teacher.

Step into the world of PEVERELL_MAGIC on P.a.t.r.e.o.n! Experience where tales unfold, magic ignites, and the future takes shape.

For exclusive support and early access to upcoming chapters, join us at PEVERELL_MAGIC on P.a.t.r.e.o.n.

Note: Get the scoop a day before anyone else! Updates release on P.a.t.r.e.o.n before they hit FanFiction. Join us for free to read ahead!