KEYnote: There are direct quotes and altered quotes from the book.

Extended Version: I'm still dyslexic folks and life is being a bit shitty right now and I'm not using a beta for this because I do want it out eventually.

French Version: The lovely Eohwel translated Plus Facile Que de S'endormir and presumably edited this story, I highly recommend it. If anyone wants to translate my work into another language, please contact me so I can share it and remember to link me in the summary :D

Chapter 5 - Trouble On Purpose

They received their timetables at breakfast, Harry glanced at his before slipping it into his bag. Monday was Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Arithmancy, in place of Divinations. Harry hadn't told either Ron or Hermione that he had switched classes, he expected a fight and he just didn't want to explain himself.

Keeping things from them was far easier than lying to them outright.

"That's the worst scheduled day ever," Ron groaned.

Harry sighed.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked.

He looked up at the head table, Umbridge was watching all the students like a frog gaging the distance of a fly it intended to eat. "Just another miss for DADA."

"You don't think we will learn anything from her?" Hermione asked, almost glaring up at the pink toad.

"Hermione," Harry said, "you've read that book. That bit about counter curses. It would be better to just to skip her class."

"You can't skip class, Harry," she said instantly. Then she paused, giving him a strange look.

Ron was the one to ask, gaze narrowed, "You read the book?"

"I skimmed it enough to know it less informative than the Lockhart books, and at least those were entertaining and based on real events, sans Lockhart himself."

"It isn't the best of books, but it has some substance," Hermione defended, as she would likely defend any published book.

Harry suddenly didn't feel like eating. Only habit forced him to finish what little was left on his plate and got up to leave.

oOo

"Does Harry– does Harry seem off to you?" Ron asked Hermione whose eyes, along with many, many others watched the raven haired boy leave.

Hermione nodded, "He was different after the last task and at Grimmauld Place but the changes were not that noticeable until–"

"Until he started being polite to Malfoy," Ron interjected bitterly.

"Maybe, it's a good thing, Ron," she placated.

"Or maybe there's something wrong with him."

Hermione frowned at her plate, her mind trying to put a reason to the million little things that were different about their best friend.

Maybe something more has happened at the graveyard that he hadn't told them about.

oOo

Harry sat in the common room reading a Potions Theory book which he was starting to realize was more like baking than anything else. You had a lot more freedom when you were cooking meals, but if you were making a cake and you left out baking soda, the whole thing was ruined. It was with this mindset that Harry read the tips on the proper ways to handle plants and adding certain liquids to potions.

He would force Snape to give him an outstanding even if it took destroying reality to get it.

Harry took off his shoes and curled up in the armchair, leaning towards the fire. His body felt cold, he always felt cold nowadays. Even in the heavy heat of summer. He didn't know why but he couldn't get warm as if his bones were in a cooler.

He noticed in a dim sort of way that people were coming into the room. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Fred touched his shoulder.

"Harry?" Fred asked.

"You alright?" George asked.

"Yeah, you startled me is all," Harry said, closing his book, as he was just rereading it at this point anyway.

"What are you reading?" George asked.

Harry showed them the cover.

Fred laughed, "You trying to get a leg up in potions?"

"I think I want to be good at this subject just so I can spite the old bat."

George grinned, "We have a few books we can lend you that helped us."

"That would be awesome, this book is just tips on how to handle different materials."

The twins looked down at the book in unison.

"Is it any good?" they asked.

Harry nodded and handed it to them, "You can borrow it if you like, I have already finished it. I was just looking over a couple of the more detailed descriptions."

"Thanks, Harry," George said.

"You're a great friend," Fred said.

"What did you do, Harry?" Ron asked, coming up behind them.

"So suspicious, ickle-prefect," Fred said, turning on his younger brother.

"With that tone, it makes it sound like you think we are up to something," George added with a sly smile.

"You two are always up to something," Hermione pointed out.

Harry stood, stretched, and headed up to bed while Ron and Hermione were still bickering with the twins.

oOo

Harry's dreams were strange.

He stood in front of the mirror of Erised, staring at his scar.

It burst open, blood poored down one side of his face. It didn't hurt as the dark blood masked over half his face nor when it got into his one eye. However, that green eye turned to red.

Both his eyes gleamed unnaturally in the darkened space, glowing from the mirror.

One eye like Voldemort's and the other shining emerald like his boggart mother's.

oOo

Harry lurched out of bed, panting slightly though he luckily didn't wake anyone. He got dressed and went down to breakfast early, slipping out with the quietness living with Dursleys had beaten into him.

The hall was mostly empty as it was barely six a.m. but among the students at breakfast, Draco Malfoy was one of them sitting alone at the Slytherin table.

Harry thought of the Sorting Hat's warning and remembered how staying divided literally brought down the school.

Screw it, Harry thought, it's not like he is a Death Eater yet. That was next year. Besides, Draco had protected him against the snatchers.

Harry made a beeline for the white haired Slytherin. He sat down at the table and waited for Draco to look up at him.

He did, and his pale eyes widened at Harry Potter's appearance.

"Good morning," Harry said, cheerfully.

"Good mor-" Draco had to stop himself, it looked as though he had to bite his tongue. "Did you get hit in the head or something? This is the Slytherin table."

Harry grinned, "I almost sorted into Slytherin, you know."

Draco gaped at him as if the world had fallen down around his ears. He spluttered, "What!?"

Harry smiled, "I begged the Sorting Hat not to put me in the same house as you and the man who murdered my parents."

oOo

Draco blinked, at a loss on how to handle this more amenable Potter.

Draco figured it was some type of ploy to get at him so he asked, "What do you want?"

"What do you think about a DADA club? You said so yourself that the book was useless."

Draco felt like he was in an alternate universe, "My father said–"

"Your father doesn't work for the Ministry, and news flash Draco, but the Ministry doesn't want us learning magic that can be used against them."

Draco frowned, "You want to start a club and get a professor to teach an extra class?"

He remembered Lockhart's club and how 'well' that had gone.

"No, I'll teach it. I have a feeling Umbridge isn't going to let us use magic in class," Harry said.

"And I feel like you are mental and Umbridge isn't going to like you teaching her subject outside of class," Draco shot back.

"Then we do it in secret," Harry supplied. "I know a place."

"And you think you can teach me anything, that your bette–"

"I am the best student in the school for DADA. It is my subject, you, on the other hand, are the dumb-arse who taunted a hippogryph after Hagrid told you they were proud creatures who never forgive insults."

Draco flushed and glared, "Get lost, Potter."

Harry shrugged, "We have DADA today, let me know when you decide you want to pass your OWL's."

Draco fisted his hands and looked around the room. There was no one at the Slytherin table, but the smattering of students at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables had all been watching.

At the head table, only professors McGonagall and Flitwick were there to witness the oddity of Potter.

In all honesty, Draco would have loved to have been friends with Potter. His friends only hung out with him because their fathers had commanded them to when they were little.

oOo

Harry went back to the Gryffindor table, finished a piece of toast and an apple for heading down to the dungeons. He had some extra time to read the twin's potions book they had lent him before heading down to the dungeons.

Their first potions classes ended with Harry and Draco getting their potions close to perfect. Hermione's potion was probably a distant third in the class.

Harry smirked as Snape frowned down at his as described simmering potion.

oOo

Severus looked between Granger's potion and Potter's, Potter's was the better of the two. Which was impossible, Potter was hopeless in this subject unless Granger was cheating for him, however, Granger was far too vain to let Potter achieve a better grade than her. Weasley wasn't of any help, his potion was toxic. No, the only student in the class who could have achieved this was Draco, who Severus sometimes tutored in the summers. Draco and Potter would never work together, meaning Potter had somehow gotten better at potions.

Snape turned his wrath on Weasley.

Mocking Potter's abysmal potions skills was typically the highlight of his day.

oOo

"What was that?" Ron asked, spitting mad. Sure, Snape had picked on him before, but he had never been the professor's primary focus, that was either Harry or Neville.

"I am not going to fail his class," Harry said.

"Your potion was better than Hermione's," Ron said.

Hermione's mouth tightened, "I have to get to Ancient Runes."

Harry sighed.

"You knew she would react like that," Ron accused. "I just don't understand how you could have done better than her in the first place."

"I studied over the summer."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Because what else was I supposed to do locked up at the Dursleys, Ron? In case you're not aware you and Hermione are my only friends. How many letters did we exchange? How much did you hear from me? Did you ever stop to think what it's like to have no one to talk to other than an old lady across the street who only talks about her cats? The most human interaction I get is my Aunt and Uncle ordering me to do chores and make them food. So, yeah I read books and did my summer homework. Sorry to disappoint you," Harry snapped.

Ron flinched.

Then asked as Harry began to turn down a different corridor, "Where are you going?"

"Arithmancy, and don't worry about telling Trelawny, she must have seen it coming."

Ron stopped and watched his best friend walk alone down the hall into the mass of other students. Harry had changed and Ron wasn't sure he liked the new Harry.

oOo

Arithmancy held in a bright large windowed room. The tables were low and square and there were four pillows at each.

Harry smiled when he saw Luna who had spotted him the second he walked into the room.

"Harry," she greeted.

"Harry?" Susan asked, whipping her head around. "Hi, Harry!" she cheered.

"Hi Susan, hi Luna," Harry said, taking his seat between them.

"Thank Merlin, I am not the only one from our year who switched electives. Of course, I switched last year so I had to do the first class," Susan said.

"I covered the first years work over the summer, Flitwick graded the homework and Professor Vector sent me the tests. I got the okay to only go back the one year," Harry said.

"I got to move forward a year," the Slytherin girl with golden-blonde hair said across from Harry.

"Harry," Susan began, "this is Astoria Greengrass. Astoria this is-"

"Harry Potter, I'm aware," she said coolly.

Harry smiled, "You and your sister sound alike."

She glared at him, "How would you know? you hate Slytherins."

"No, I dislike Draco and his two shadows, and sometimes Pansy and Millicent. Your sister is nice though," Harry said.

"My sister isn't nice. She's awesome but she isn't nice."

"Well by nice, I mean she isn't loud and annoying," Harry corrected himself.

"Because that isn't the exact definition of a Gryffindor?" she shot back. "You are the attention hogging Boy Who Lived."

"Hey, I never asked to be famous for surviving my parents getting murdered, I would gladly trade my fame for my mother's life," Harry snapped.

"Like you can even remember her," Astoria said, not letting go of her advantage.

"I remember her screaming for my life and what it looked like when Voldemort hit her with the killing curse. Trauma sticks with you."

Astoria looked away, her cheeks flushing. "Sorry," she muttered.

"My parents were killed by him too," Susan said softly.

They were all spared further discussion on the topic of dead parents as Professor Vector took control of the class.

She was a stern witch and though her class seemed to be a numerical way of predicting the future, her class began to go into wards, in numerical architecture that aligned with the stars, like tombs in Egypt or mosques in the Near East. With Arithmancy, numbers and patterns had power.

Hermione was right about it being a far better class than Divinations. The groups of four worked together on a circular diagram on their table. Between the four of them, they did really well.

Professor Vector gave Harry an approving nod, "You'll catch up quickly with this group and your presence evens out the class so now every table has four. Splendid."

As they were leaving class Luna said to him softly, "On the train, your shield charm…"

"It was instinct," Harry said.

"You cast it without speaking a spell," she said.

Harry missed a step.

She smiled at him, "I don't think the others noticed."

They parted ways when they got to the great hall for lunch.

oOo

"You dropped Divinations?" Hermione asked as soon as he sat down.

"Didn't Ron tell?" Harry asked, pulling a few slices of apple onto his plate.

"Yeah, he said you've been studying all summer," she said.

"I didn't think you would have a problem with that," Harry said without looking at her.

"You hate studying."

Harry looked up at her then, "Like I told Ron, I hate living with the Dursleys and I had nothing better to do with my time."

She opened her mouth to protest.

He cut her off, "Hermione, give it a rest. Can't you just be happy or proud or something other than upset I didn't tell you every aspect of my life."

She nearly bit off her tongue, "That's not fair."

"And it's not fair for you to be mad that I did better than you on one potions assignment either."

None of the three of them talked to each other through the rest of lunch.

oOo

Harry settled in to do his his Arithmancy homework having transfigured the textbook to look like the DADA book.

Like last time Hermione raised her hand.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" Umbridge asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no."

"Well, we're reading just now," Professor Umbridge said with a sanguine smile. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," Hermione forged onwards.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. "And your name is?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," Professor Umbridge said her voice falsely sweet.

"Well, I don't," Hermione said bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

Harry hid a smile as everyone except him looked up to the black board.

"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?"

Because that had never happened before, mused Harry silently as he thought of Lockhart's pixies.

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron exclaimed loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. -?"

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.

Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Hermione immediately raised her hand 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," Hermione said. "Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" Professor Umbridge asked with condescension.

"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 programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"

"Because Hogwarts is known for being risk free?" Harry snorted, he couldn't help himself. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a–"

"Hand, Mr. Potter!" sang Professor Umbridge.

Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him, but now several other people had their hands up, too.

"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge said to Dean.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Dean. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free."

"I repeat," Professor Umbridge said forcefully though kept her smile plastered on. "Do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"Yes," Harry said, garnering a number of laughs from his classmates.

Professor Umbridge scowled at him. "I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her mouth wider, "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."

"If you mean Professor Lupin," piped up Dean angrily, "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-"

"No we haven't," Hermione said, "we just-"

"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 maniac, didn't he?" said Dean hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads."

"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" trilled Professor Umbridge. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?" she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.

"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," said Professor Umbridge dismissively.

"Without ever practicing them beforehand?" said Parvati incredulously. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"

Draco caught Harry's gaze from across the room.

He looked torn.

Harry was the only hope anyone here had of passing their tests if they weren't already great at the subject.

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough-" Professor Umbridge looked up and met Harry's gaze. He still loathed this woman, Lucius Malfoy was the height of morality compared to her. "There will be no need to try the spells before the test, the theory will suffice."

Harry had bite his cheek but he was able to keep his temper. Umbridge had made Harry's life a living hell once and he fully intended to repay the favour. Regrettably, he would not be able to accomplish that here and now, but her time would come.

Eventually, the class settled down, resigned to reading listlessly from the book.

Draco came up to Harry after class as he was walking out with Ron and Hermione.

Draco said two words before disappearing back into the crowd, "I'm in."

"I know I keep asking this, but what was that?" Ron asked.

Harry grinned, "Trouble."

And this time, he would be causing the trouble on purpose.

If the professors thought he was mischief making before, they would be in for a rude awakening.

oOo

AN: Thoughts or songbirds?