CHAPTER 15 – EVASION OF DETENTION
The remaining days of the week unfolded with an unexpected calm settling over the close-knit group of friends. Harry ventured into his second potions class of the week, his mind buzzing with questions about Fleur's encounter with Snape. He couldn't help but wonder whether the stern professor had been reprimanded by the Headmaster or if Fleur had, fortunately, managed to escape any further punishment. To their collective relief, it seemed that Dumbledore's intervention had yielded results, as Snape's behavior underwent a noticeable shift. Apart from the occasional menacing glare, Snape, surprisingly, kept his distance from Harry and the other Gryffindors. He chose to remain mostly silent during class, reserving his interactions for essential instructions. This newfound development brought palpable satisfaction to the Gryffindor contingent, with Neville and Harry, in particular, sporting the most ear-to-ear grins.
As the week progressed, Fleur and Harry found themselves in receipt of a letter from Fleur's father, who expressed a polite interest in how their first week at Hogwarts had transpired. Beneath the surface of the words, it was evident that he was keen to inquire about specific professors, especially in regard to the potentially challenging situations Fleur had encountered. Fleur, in her reply, offered a mostly positive account of their initial experiences. She reassured her father that despite a few close calls, she and Harry had managed to navigate through the intricacies of their first week without any major incidents. Fleur subtly hinted that Harry's composure and restraint in dealing with certain faculty members, notably Snape, had prevented the situation from escalating further.
In Jean-Sebastian's letter, his mounting frustration with the inaction of Minister Fudge in the face of Voldemort's return was palpable. The group of friends had been closely monitoring The Daily Prophet, and it was evident that the Minister was stubbornly clinging to his denial of the Dark Lord's resurgence. He adamantly refused to heed anyone who tried to convince him otherwise. Consequently, the recruitment and training of Aurors remained at inadequate levels, and the Ministry's forces were falling significantly behind the well-organized Death Eaters. The Death Eaters, in stark contrast, were sparing no effort in honing their skills and bolstering their ranks. Although Jean-Sebastian didn't explicitly state it, Fleur couldn't help but infer that her father had been maintaining a continuous dialogue with Dumbledore regarding the dire situation. However, his position as an ambassador left him little room to exert pressure on Fudge, a frustration he undoubtedly felt.
Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, the infamous Dolores Umbridge was seen engaged in conversations with some of the more radical Slytherins, with Draco Malfoy at the forefront. After a thorough discussion among the friends, their consensus was that Umbridge seemed to be cultivating a rapport with the Slytherins, possibly promising rewards for information and cooperation. So far, there had been no tangible outcome from this cozying up, but Harry, in particular, was deeply concerned. Whatever motive Umbridge had for courting favor with the Slytherins, it appeared to be a prelude to her future plans. Interestingly, despite the assumption that Severus Snape might align with Umbridge's principles, the reality was quite the opposite. He actively avoided her, as if she carried a contagious disease, and their interactions, when absolutely necessary, were characterized by curt, minimal conversation.
The weekend brought the first official Quidditch practice for Harry, Fleur, and Ron, with Fleur not yet securing a spot on the starting lineup. However, she discovered that she relished the practice sessions and, even more so, the sense of camaraderie among the team. While she might not possess the skills or the familiarity with her teammates that Katie, Angelina, and Alicia had, Angelina herself commented that either Fleur or Ginny could serve as impressive substitutes when needed. The Quidditch team exuded immense confidence in their upcoming quest for the Quidditch Cup; on paper, none of the rival teams seemed to match up to their formidable prowess.
Unquestionably, Ron persisted in his endeavors to get closer to Hermione, seemingly oblivious to her lack of response, which did not align with the behavior one might expect from a young woman open to courtship. It was possible that Ron's determination to win her over led him to be willfully oblivious to her disinterest. Hermione, not desiring to create a scene or inflict emotional pain, found herself in a precarious situation. She feared that Ron's relentless pursuit might eventually force her to address the issue, and she was unsure of how he would react. Knowing Ron's temperament, she doubted that he would take it well.
In the next Monday's potions class, Harry remained committed to keeping his head down, focusing on his brewing tasks, and steering clear of attracting Professor Snape's attention. While his confidence in his potion-making skills had grown, owing to his overall increased self-assuredness and the improved classroom atmosphere, he was far from certain that Snape would ease up on him. Regardless of any potential developments between Snape and the Headmaster, Harry was convinced that maintaining a stance of avoidance was still his safest approach.
On that particular day, Snape, for the most part, refrained from direct interactions with Harry. However, Harry couldn't help but notice Snape's malevolent gaze fixed upon him, accompanied by the customary sneer, at various points during the class. The persistent scrutiny was undeniably irksome, and Harry felt a strong inclination to confront the greasy bat about it. Nevertheless, the cautions to avoid offering his enemies any leverage were etched firmly in his mind, dissuading him from initiating a confrontation.
Regrettably, Snape did not share Harry's restraint. As the class drew to a close, students began gathering their belongings and preparing to exit the classroom when Snape's contemptuous voice cut through the air.
"Potter! Stay after class. I have something to discuss with you," Snape's voice sliced through the air, freezing the classroom.
Harry shared a quick glance with Hermione, who whispered that she, Neville, and Ron would be waiting outside for him. He acknowledged her with a nod and settled into his seat, watching the other students exit. Malfoy, who had been wearing an almost gleeful expression, couldn't conceal his satisfaction as he departed. Once the classroom was empty, Harry sat at his desk, resolute and prepared for whatever Snape had to say. The professor, however, seemed in no hurry to initiate the conversation, opting to fix his gaze on Harry with disdain and contempt. Harry maintained his composure, refusing to be discomfited. He had no intention of instigating any altercation that might provide Snape with an excuse to administer the punishments he seemed to relish.
After a prolonged silence, Snape finally moved, stepping closer to Harry's desk. "So, you found it necessary to complain to the Headmaster about me."
Harry responded without hesitation, "I did."
The professor's tone took on a taunting edge. "And now I suppose you wish special treatment in my class, the same as you receive in any other class?"
Harry's restraint was tested, but he managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. "I do not, sir. I expect to be treated the same as any other student."
"Your arrogance knows no bounds, Potter."
Harry countered, "How can it be arrogance to expect to be treated the same as anyone else?"
Snape's response was silence. He continued to glare at Harry, his hatred and contempt overtly evident. These emotions were reciprocated by Harry with an equal, unyielding intensity.
"I have done nothing to earn your hatred, Professor," Harry stated firmly, ensuring he didn't offer Snape any additional ammunition to use against him. "All I ever did was to show up on my first day of classes. You appeared then to already dislike me before you even knew me. Why?"
Snape's reply came with a venomous tone, "You are too much like your father. He was a blight upon this school, always running wild with those friends of his, always strutting around the school like he owned it."
A sarcastic retort escaped Harry's lips, "Sounds like a certain blond ponce I know."
"Don't interrupt me! We were speaking of your father and no one else," Snape snapped.
Harry's voice dripped with scorn, "Oh really? I thought we were talking about me? I asked you why you hated me from the beginning, and you talk about my father's arrogance and how I mirrored him, but you did not even take the time to get to know me before you made that judgment."
Snape's eyes narrowed, and though Harry knew he had scored a significant point, he also knew that the professor would never admit it. Nevertheless, Snape's silence allowed Harry to press on.
"I'm afraid I cannot know how much like my father I am. You see, he's dead!" Harry's voice carried a note of frustration and pain. The admission that his parents were no longer with him had always been a sore spot, but he forced himself to be blunt with his unyielding professor. "I was too young to know my father when he died. So, you see, Professor, any resemblance between my father and me is a result of genetics and chance—nothing more."
"Believe me, Potter, you are just like your arrogant father," Snape maintained, his demeanor unyielding.
Harry rose from his seat, his gaze unwavering as he locked onto the professor. "Professor, may I speak bluntly?"
A raised eyebrow greeted his question. "Are you not doing so now?"
"In a sense. But I'd like to be able to speak my mind as openly as you are doing right now. No detentions, no point deductions—just you and me, clearing the air."
Seeming intrigued, Snape regarded him with contemplation. "Very well then. Everything said in this room is completely off the record until further notice, or until you leave the room. Now, I believe you have something to say?"
"Yes, sir," Harry responded with a firm nod. "It may come as no surprise to you, but I hate you as much as you obviously hate me. But where I am forced to show you respect as a professor—which you have in no way earned, I might add—you feel free to belittle me and behave as though I am something disgusting you wiped from your shoes. You are a vile, bitter, and contemptuous man, with very few redeeming qualities, and your abilities as a potions master in no way compensate for your utter failure as a professor. Your behavior is atrocious, and in the Muggle world, you would have lost your position years ago. You have disliked me because of something which happened between you and my father before I was even born, and you have never once attempted to look past my resemblance to my father and see the person I am, rather than what you thought I would be."
"What you continue to fail to understand is that I don't know who my father was as a person, and as such, I can hardly emulate him, whether I want to or not. He may have been an arrogant git like you say. He may have acted like he owned the school and everything in it. In fact, he may have acted like the very world owed him everything on a silver platter. I wouldn't know. I can tell you that he could hardly be worse than that little Pureblood idiot you are so intent upon protecting, so it seems to me that on top of everything else, you are a hypocrite as well as a bully.
"The point of this discussion is that I've had to put up with every bit of abuse that you thought you could get away with ever since I came to this school. I will not continue to do so. One way or another, your treatment of me will cease, or I will do everything in my power to see you lose your precious position, and I expect that an entire generation of Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw students will laud my name after you are booted from this school in disgrace!"
Silence enveloped the room after Harry's impassioned outburst. While he had an urge to break it, he had said his piece and decided to await Snape's response. The outburst, after all, couldn't worsen their relationship any further. Snape's demeanor had, in fact, softened slightly, and he regarded Harry with a speculative eye.
"I suppose there is no disputing your courage," Snape finally conceded.
"I would imagine that is why the hat placed me in Gryffindor," Harry responded wryly.
Harry made a deliberate choice not to mention that he had asked the Sorting Hat not to place him in Slytherin. He couldn't predict how Snape would react to that piece of information. It could elicit anything from the professor dancing with joy that he hadn't ended up in Slytherin to an entirely different reaction.
"Quite," Snape responded.
After scrutinizing Harry for a few more moments, Snape seemed to reach a decision. "Very well then, Potter. As long as you keep your nose clean in class and complete your assignments with a certain level of competence, I shall leave you alone. Will that suffice?"
"What about Malfoy?" Harry inquired.
"What about him?" came the curt response.
"Come on, Professor, you are not blind. Malfoy is a thorn in my side whenever he gets the chance. He taunts me and my friends, attempts to get us in detention, and tries to sabotage our potions whenever he thinks he can get away with it. Given that you are teaching this class, he thinks he can get away with it whenever he pleases. I can keep my head down and do my best in class, but I can guarantee that if Malfoy tries something, my response won't be to his liking. I won't allow that little troublemaker to harm any of my friends any longer."
"You are lucky that this is all off the record, or you would have cost Miss Granger some of her hard-earned points."
"That's why I asked," Harry retorted. "I wouldn't be this blunt if I wasn't sure it was off the record, would I? I'm not that foolish."
Snape snorted. "Although I hate to admit it, it's rather Slytherin-like behavior, Potter. I'll address Mr. Malfoy."
"Very well, Professor."
With a nod, Harry slung his backpack over his shoulder and strolled out of the room. He couldn't help but notice Snape's intense gaze following him as he exited.
"What was that all about?" Hermione inquired when he rejoined his friends.
"Not much," Harry replied with a wink. "Just clearing the air a bit with the Professor."
"Did you punch his lights out?" Ron asked with a grin.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Perhaps you should do that, Ronald, if you want to have detention for the rest of your time at Hogwarts."
"It might actually be worth it," Neville added. "At least it would be satisfying."
The group shared a laugh as they walked down the corridor.
"I agree with Neville," said Harry. "But no, I didn't punch him. Like I said, we cleared the air a little. Hopefully, we'll have less trouble with Snape from now on."
By the time the fifth years arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom later that afternoon, Harry had shared the story of his discussion with Snape with all of his friends. Fleur, in particular, seemed extremely pleased with the turn of events. However, Harry requested that those who knew the precise details of the confrontation keep it under wraps. He didn't want Snape to think he was openly discussing their private dealings with everyone. Harry sensed that his newfound truce with the potions professor was still delicate and needed to be handled with care.
Malfoy, on the other hand, appeared puzzled. He had clearly suspected something was amiss when Harry was asked to stay behind after class, but seeing Harry laughing with his friends instead of seething at his treatment was clearly not what he had anticipated. As they left the hall, Harry noticed a look of discontent on his nemesis's face, which deepened further when Harry gave him a nonchalant salute. At that moment, Harry realized he still hadn't heard Malfoy's reaction to being assigned to detention with him. This situation couldn't be putting Malfoy in a good mood. Harry assumed that Snape had instructed the blond student to accept the detention and keep quiet, though he was surprised that Malfoy had complied, if that were the case.
One of Harry's Monday classes showed signs of improvement, but the other dreaded class, which used to be his favorite in previous years, continued to incite frustration.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was still as dull as it had been in the previous week. Umbridge persisted in her insistence that the students put their wands away as soon as they entered the classroom, and she continued her lectures directly from the textbook. While the subject matter still held some interest for Harry, despite the less than stellar textbook, he couldn't help but feel that Defense was fast approaching the same level of mind-numbing tedium as History of Magic.
However, what had changed was Umbridge's apparent disregard for him, even when he attempted to speak, which was a rare occurrence. It was approaching the end of the class when Harry raised his hand to ask a question for the third time and was once again ignored. Instead, Umbridge called on Hannah Abbot to answer the question she had posed. Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who responded with a knowing smirk.
"Seems like someone's employing a new tactic," Harry whispered.
"It does seem that way," Hermione agreed.
Their brief conversation, however, caught the professor's attention. She looked at Harry with her insincere and infuriatingly saccharine smile and asked in her high-pitched voice, "Did you have something to say, Mr. Potter? Did I not instruct the class to raise your hands when you have something to say? Perhaps you'd like to share with the class what you and Miss Granger were discussing?"
Harry grimaced and replied, "I was simply pointing out that I haven't had the chance to answer a question yet in this class, Professor."
"Well, Mr. Potter, had I known you were so eager to participate, I would have called on you sooner."
"Thank you, Professor. It's reassuring to know that I am a valued member."
Umbridge regarded him suspiciously before breaking into her cloying smile once more. "Indeed, Mr. Potter. However, there is still the matter of you speaking out of turn, and I'm afraid you and Miss Granger will have to serve detention. It appears I must demonstrate that I desire discipline in this class."
Despite his strong desire to respond to the woman, Harry held his tongue and remained silent. He suspected this was all part of Umbridge's plan to provoke him, and although he wasn't sure if this detention would be one the Headmaster would overturn, he felt it was wise to inform Dumbledore about the situation.
"Very good, Mr. Potter. It seems you can control your troublesome tendencies when you choose to. Perhaps we can still mold you into a proper wizard."
Even this comment failed to elicit a reaction from Harry; Umbridge's opinion held less value to him than that of a flobberworm. She seemed somewhat disappointed that she couldn't provoke him further. However, her sudden shift to a show of studied nonchalance made him instantly suspicious.
"You will serve detention..." She trailed off, tapping her wand on her chin in what Harry was certain was a feigned display of considering the situation.
Her face suddenly brightened with glee. "Yes, your detention will take place on Thursday, just before dinner." She practically sneered at Harry. "As I will be away from Hogwarts that day on Wizengamot business, you will serve your detention with Professor Snape, and I will make sure he has something... suitable for both of you to do."
"But that's the day of Sirius's trial!" Harry blurted out, immediately grasping the motive behind the woman's actions. "I've been given permission to attend with Professor Dumbledore."
"Now, now, Mr. Potter," Umbridge cooed, "we can't have students who have detention scheduled leaving the school for an obviously unnecessary field trip—it wouldn't be fair to the other students."
"It's not fair for you to assign detention on a day that means so much to me," Harry retorted.
"Perhaps one day isn't enough for you," Umbridge said sweetly. "You and Miss Granger will serve your Thursday detention with Professor Snape, and then you'll serve Friday, Saturday, and Sunday with me."
Harry's anger surged, and he was on the verge of launching into a tirade against the woman. However, Hermione's presence beside him, along with her reassuring hand on his shoulder, reminded him to keep his composure. He turned away from Umbridge, adopting an emotionless mask, and ignored her for the remainder of the class. She didn't call on him either, though she cast several smug glances in his direction before the bell rang.
As the class concluded, Harry slammed his textbook into his bag and stormed out of the room, barely noticing his friends trying to catch up with him as he walked through the corridors of Hogwarts.
"Harry, could you slow down for a moment?" Hermione shouted.
He came to an abrupt halt, almost causing Hermione to crash into him.
"Where are you going?" she demanded once she had regained her balance.
"Dumbledore," Harry replied curtly. "What she did wasn't fair, and I'm not going to let her get away with it."
Turning to Neville and Ron, who had rushed to catch up, Harry motioned for them to go ahead. "Go with Hermione to the Great Hall. I'll be there after I speak with the Headmaster."
Ron and Neville nodded, but Hermione dug in her heels. "No way, Harry. You'll need someone to back you up, and I'm coming too."
Harry's initial reluctance to have help from Hermione was outweighed by the comfort he knew her presence would bring. He nodded briefly to her and then turned to march down the hallway leading to the Headmaster's office.
Once they were granted access to the office, they entered, earning a raised eyebrow from the elderly Headmaster.
"I assume something else has happened," he inquired in a calm manner. "Is this going to be a regular occurrence, Harry?"
"I hope not, sir," Harry replied with a tight grin.
Dumbledore observed Harry for a few moments. "I conducted some inquiries earlier, and aside from the rumored discussion with Professor Snape, nothing of note took place in your potions class. Can I assume, then, that your current issue has nothing to do with potions?"
"Yes, sir," Harry confirmed. "There was an incident in Defense, and Umbridge assigned me an unfair detention that I'd like you to review."
Nodding, Dumbledore said, "Very well, please continue."
Taking care not to omit any details and providing the Headmaster with a comprehensive account of the incident, Harry described the confrontation with the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The entire story was conveyed in just a few minutes, and when he had finished, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, contemplating the situation.
"Unfortunately, Harry, there's nothing I can do about the initial detention. It is within a professor's discretion to run their class and enforce discipline as they see fit."
"But, sir," Hermione protested, "that's utterly unfair and an excessive punishment for whispering in class."
"I don't disagree with you, Miss Granger," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Technically, she has the authority to assign detention. However, that doesn't mean we can't modify the terms of that detention."
Feeling some relief at the implication that he wouldn't miss Sirius's trial, Harry inquired, "You mentioned the first detention. Is there anything you can do about the other ones?"
"That's an entirely separate matter," Dumbledore stated with unwavering resolve. "While one might argue that your protests could be interpreted as backtalk, considering the stress of the situation, it's reasonable to assume your response was a result of the circumstances. So, we will summon Professor Umbridge to listen to her explanation, following which I'll reach a final decision. It's undoubtedly in our best interests to spare you from a detention with the professor for now, don't you think?"
Harry readily concurred, a playful grin on his face, as he observed the Headmaster moving toward the Floo connection. Dumbledore tossed a generous pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace, clearly calling for Professor Umbridge's office. After a brief pause, the fiery visage of Professor Umbridge, looking even more preposterous than her norm, materialized amidst the flames.
"Ah, Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore greeted her warmly. "Would you kindly step into my office for a moment?"
A moment later, the Headmaster stepped away from the fireplace, making way for the Defense professor to emerge. She promptly noticed the students seated, all facing the Headmaster's desk, and promptly donned her trademark, albeit insincere, simpering expression. However, it was evident to Harry that she was far from pleased to see them.
"Yes, Headmaster? Is there a problem?" she inquired in her characteristic, saccharine tone, though beneath the facade, her displeasure was palpable.
"I'm afraid there is, Professor," replied Dumbledore as he settled back into his chair. "Mr. Potter has approached me to request an appeal regarding the detention you assigned to him during Defense class. As part of my inquiry, I've summoned you here to understand your reasons behind assigning this detention."
Umbridge's gaze sharpened, and she responded, "I was not under the impression that I needed to justify my decisions to fifth-year students."
The Headmaster calmly explained, "Indeed, you don't owe such explanations to the students. However, when a student initiates the appeals process, you must be accountable for your actions to me. Mr. Potter has provided his perspective on what transpired in your Defense class, and now it's crucial that I hear your rationale before making a judgment."
With her trademark sweet smile back in place, Umbridge nodded, saying, "Of course, Headmaster. Very well, I assigned a detention for disruptive behavior in class. I've been diligently working on instilling discipline within my class, and these two students were, indeed, speaking out of turn."
Dumbledore acknowledged, "Yes, Mr. Potter has admitted to whispering in class."
Umbridge questioned, a hint of smugness in her tone, "Then why are we having this discussion?"
"Because you subsequently assigned another three days when Mr. Potter protested, not to mention you specifically assigned the original detention on the day you knew Harry would be absent from the school to attend his godfather's trial."
Umbridge retorted, her voice dripping with disdain, "I assure you I did no such thing, Headmaster, and I resent these two students," the word was almost sneered, "implicating otherwise."
Dumbledore's response was resolute, "And I assure you, Professor, that I am perfectly capable of making the connection myself without Mr. Potter or Miss Granger's assistance. Do you have anything further to add?"
With an air of finality, Umbridge replied, "Not at all, Headmaster. I observed a violation of my classroom rules and reacted accordingly. As for Mr. Potter's subsequent detentions, I will not tolerate any cheek in my class."
Dumbledore nodded and spoke, "Very well then. While I may believe that the punishment for whispering in class is excessive, I agree that it falls within your rights to assign the level of punishment you deem appropriate. However, insisting that Mr. Potter attend a detention on the day of his godfather's trial, thus preventing his attendance, is excessively harsh. Therefore, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger will instead serve their detentions this evening with their head of house, and not with Professor Snape."
Umbridge's discontent with the Headmaster's decision was palpable, yet she maintained her smile as she replied, "Very well, Headmaster. However, as I am available tonight, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger may serve their detentions with me."
Dumbledore's response was firm and unwavering, "I have already made my decision, Professor Umbridge. You will abide by it."
As Umbridge seemed poised to interject, Dumbledore continued, addressing the issue of Harry's subsequent detentions, "As for the matter of Mr. Potter's subsequent detentions, there is no factual basis for those detentions to be assigned, especially considering the emotionally charged nature of the subject being discussed for Mr. Potter. I hereby reverse those detentions."
Umbridge's tone turned venomous as she hissed, "This is one of the reasons I was sent here, Headmaster. Your continuous and overt favoritism toward Mr. Potter and his friends must cease immediately!"
She further threatened, feigning indifference, "Or perhaps I should discuss your blatant bias with the Minister."
Dumbledore's eyes briefly flared with intensity, but he refrained from responding to Umbridge. Instead, he turned his attention to Harry and Hermione, asking, "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I believe we have resolved the matter you brought before us. Is there anything else you would like to discuss at this time?"
"No, sir," Harry replied, casting a quick glance at Hermione. It was evident that the ensuing conversation between the Headmaster and the Defense Professor was meant for their ears to be kept out of.
"Very well then. You may leave. Please report to Professor McGonagall at seven this evening for your detention. I will ensure she knows you are coming," Dumbledore instructed.
Accepting the instructions, the two teenagers rose from their seats and left the room. As they made their way down the corridor beyond the gargoyle guardian, Harry couldn't help but tease Hermione with a grin.
"Looks like someone's in trouble," he sang out in a playful voice.
"Harry!" Hermione scolded, though her own grin betrayed her. "That's the kind of attitude that landed us in the Headmaster's office in the first place."
Harry shook his head. "It seems like she's really determined to get me into detention. We'll have to tread carefully."
Hermione nodded in agreement, and together they headed towards the Great Hall.
Once the door had closed behind the departing students, Albus let the façade of congeniality slip from his face. He fixed a stern, disapproving gaze on the Defense Professor, making it clear that his dislike for the woman was no secret to him.
"Madam Umbridge, must I remind you that I am the Headmaster of this institution?" Dumbledore asserted firmly.
"A Headmaster who has perhaps passed his prime," Umbridge retorted with a sneer that could have rivaled Snape's. "And you will refer to me as 'Professor Umbridge,' Headmaster."
Dumbledore snorted with a touch of disdain. "In public, perhaps, when I have no other choice. In private, however, I will not address you with an honorific you have not earned."
Her anger evident from the flaring of her nostrils, Umbridge struggled to come up with a response. Dumbledore's statement was, after all, an unassailable truth.
"Let us not obfuscate, Madam," Dumbledore continued after letting her stew for a moment. "You are not in this school to improve the quality of education or the overall atmosphere, regardless of whatever platitudes you are attempting to force upon the student body or the public at large. You are here with the specific intention of marginalizing Harry and undermining my credibility, all due to your narrow worldview and the Minister's short-sighted fear that I might seek to replace him. You should remind Minister Fudge that I could have assumed the position of Minister when Minister Bagnold retired. I declined it then, and I do not desire it now, as I already have enough responsibilities on my plate."
"However, I am, and will remain the Headmaster of this school, and as such, I bear the responsibility not only for its administration but also for matters such as the adjudication of appeals. My judgment stands, as I have previously stated. In the future, if you deem it necessary to make an example due to minor breaches of your classroom rules, I recommend deducting house points from the offenders. For an offense such as the one brought to my attention today by Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, assigning detention is excessively severe."
Despite her palpable fury, Umbridge simply nodded tersely. "Very well, Headmaster, but be forewarned that if you persist in openly protecting troublemakers like Mr. Potter, you might find yourself removed from your position."
"And let me be clear," Dumbledore responded, "that continued attempts to target Mr. Potter or any other student in this institution will result in your removal, Madam Umbridge. Given the doubts surrounding your competence in the subject you teach – you don't even hold a NEWT in Defense! – I doubt anyone other than your favored Minister would protest such an action. Do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly," snapped Umbridge.
Without exchanging further words or even a single glance, Umbridge promptly retreated to her office via the Floo network, leaving Dumbledore to contemplate the predicament she presented. The necessity of having her presence at Hogwarts was a bitter pill to swallow, and at that moment, he realized he had no choice but to accept it. Despite his words to her, he knew that he required an airtight reason to remove her from the school, thereby enabling him to replace her with a professor of his own choosing. He had someone in mind for the role, but the timing wasn't quite right yet. Nevertheless, he would not hesitate to act if a valid reason for her removal emerged.
As he ruminated on the matter for several moments, Dumbledore fretted over the situation. He certainly did not need Jean-Sebastian's intervention, which would undoubtedly transpire if Umbridge couldn't be kept in check. Perhaps, in the future, it would be prudent to allow Harry to serve a detention with her, carefully monitored, to discern her true intentions. Currently, he wasn't entirely certain about what Umbridge had in mind, but he wouldn't put it past her to go too far. That might provide the leverage he needed to have her removed.
After a few more moments of contemplation, Dumbledore released a weary sigh and rose from his chair. Popping a lemon drop into his mouth, he left his office and made his way towards the Great Hall, his mind tirelessly mulling over the problem as he walked.
As Hermione and Harry settled down for dinner, Hermione couldn't help but wrestle with the issue that Defense Against the Dark Arts had become this year. It was clear that this year's class was proving to be even more challenging than any previous year, a remarkable feat given the history of Defense Against the Dark Arts instruction at Hogwarts. How were they going to pass their OWLs with Umbridge in charge? She mulled over the problem, desperately seeking solutions, but none seemed forthcoming. A part of her wished to propose the idea of having a competent adult provide weekend tutoring to help bridge the gap, but witnessing Umbridge's teaching style and the Ministry's strict stance against students practicing potentially dangerous spells made her realize the futility of such a suggestion. Furthermore, Dumbledore appeared to caution against directly opposing Umbridge at the moment, so any plans they made would need to be conducted in secret.
Hermione tried to push these thoughts aside and focus on her friends' conversation, but it seemed her thoughts mirrored the topic at hand. Harry had apparently shared the details of the confrontation in Defense with Fleur, as well as the subsequent meeting in the Headmaster's office, and she looked quite concerned.
"What can we do about Umbridge?" Hermione heard Fleur inquire. "I'm taking NEWTs this year, and it's going to be nearly impossible to pass the practical exams if we can't practice the spells beforehand."
"We have OWLs to think about," Hermione said, her lip chewed in frustration.
"And don't forget about Voldemort's return," Ron added. "At this rate, we won't even have enough knowledge to defend ourselves."
"We did learn a few things from Moody this summer," Neville interjected.
Ron countered, "True, but we haven't had much opportunity to put it into practice."
Neville raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture and returned his attention to his meal.
"We all understand the problem, Ron," Hermione stated. "Now we need to find a solution."
A dreamy voice interrupted their conversation. Hermione looked up to see Luna standing behind Harry, wearing her usual dreamy smile. Harry turned to her and, with a warm smile, moved closer to Fleur. "Would you like to join us, Luna?" he asked.
With a smile, Luna took a seat beside Harry and greeted the entire group. "Thank you, Harry. It's a bit unsettling being the only non-Gryffindor in our group, but the Ravenclaws aren't particularly fond of me. I'd much rather eat with all of you."
"Then the Ravenclaws are missing out, Luna," Neville said seriously from her other side. "You're welcome to join us anytime."
A collective murmur of agreement rippled through the group. While it was uncommon for students to sit at tables other than their own, it was certainly not forbidden. They all genuinely liked Luna and considered her a friend, so everyone welcomed her presence.
"Besides, the nargles told me you were discussing a particular problem," Luna added.
Hermione struggled to stifle an eye roll. She genuinely liked Luna, but her whimsical nature and preoccupation with mythical creatures could be quite exasperating at times. This was a serious issue they were grappling with, after all.
"We're trying to figure out what to do about Defense," Harry explained. "We have important tests at the end of the year that we won't pass if we can't practice."
"And we need to practice the kind of combat Professor Moody taught us," Neville chimed in.
Luna casually offered a suggestion as she filled her plate with food, "Why don't you start a defense club?"
Hermione looked at Luna, puzzled. "A defense club?"
Luna nodded, her dreamy expression unwavering. "Yes, anyone can start a club with permission. In this case, I think you'd probably want to keep it a secret from all the staff, and I wouldn't blame you. It would give us the chance to learn the spells we need and improve our ability to protect ourselves."
"Umbridge wouldn't like it," Harry pointed out, highlighting the obvious problem.
"Who says she has to know?" Fleur countered. "If we only invite specific people, she'd never even have to find out that it exists."
Hermione's excitement was building as she began to envision the possibilities. "That's a good point. And Harry, you could lead it."
The consensus of agreement regarding Hermione's proposal didn't extend to its intended leader. Harry blinked in surprise and then regarded Hermione with a puzzled expression.
"Why me?"
Hermione offered a straightforward response, knowing simplicity was her best approach with her friend. "You're the best at Defense, Harry. You pick up spells after just a few tries, and you're excellent at helping others learn as well, which shows you have a talent for teaching."
Harry still appeared skeptical. "I'm not so sure about that, Hermione. Besides, if we were to create a club, I think it would be best to have someone in a higher year run it; they have more experience than I do."
Fleur, however, disagreed with Harry's attempt to deflect the suggestion. "Don't look at me," she objected, recognizing where Harry was trying to divert the idea. "I can hold my own in Defense, but Hermione's right—no one can match you, either in sheer power or understanding."
Harry's noncommittal shrug signaled an end to the discussion, and Hermione, despite her inclination to push the matter further, sensed from Harry's demeanor that now was not the right time. He could be quite stubborn, and it seemed this was one issue where he would stand his ground. They would need to revisit the topic at a later time. For the moment, the two Gryffindors had detention awaiting them, so they finished their dinner and bid farewell to their friends before making their way to Professor McGonagall's office.
The very next day was Hermione's birthday, and as Fleur's birthday was just a few days away, they had decided to have a joint celebration. They even invited Luna to join them in the Gryffindor common room for the occasion. Although Hermione knew that Harry would never forget her birthday—his memory of such occasions had always been impeccable in their previous four years at Hogwarts—the fact that their other friends came together to make her birthday special touched her deeply. Fleur, too, seemed to appreciate the gesture, as her warm smiles and words towards Harry indicated.
They sat in a cozy corner of the common room, enjoying butterbeer and snacks while sharing a birthday cake that the ever-enthusiastic Dobby had prepared. Hermione had received thoughtful presents from most of her close friends, but none were as personal as the ones she received from Harry and Fleur.
Harry had thoughtfully chosen a set of personalized etching tools for her Runes class, knowing how much she enjoyed it. Each tool was meticulously handcrafted, and the entire set was stored in a beautiful lacquered case made of dark cherry wood, with her name elegantly surrounded by delicate electrum filigree on the lower right corner of the case. Harry playfully remarked that it was also a token of appreciation for her assistance in helping him understand Runes, revealing an unexpected aptitude for the subject.
Fleur received a beautiful French charm bracelet from her new friend, complete with several charms. Among them was a stylized heart charm inscribed with the words 'Toujours Amies,' which meant 'Forever Friends.' It was an exceptionally thoughtful gift that moved Fleur, prompting her to express her gratitude with teary eyes and a warm embrace for Hermione.
Fleur, in turn, also received a selection of gifts, although not as many as Hermione, likely due to the fact that she had only been part of the Gryffindor community since the beginning of the school year. Nevertheless, all of their friends had taken the time to find presents for Fleur, with the most notable being the elegantly crafted white gold locket in the shape of a stylized heart that Harry had gifted her. Hermione reciprocated Fleur's thoughtful gesture with a pair of designer jeans she had noticed Fleur admiring during a shopping trip.
The bond between Hermione and Fleur was growing stronger, and they were becoming close friends. Hermione was also grateful that Fleur hadn't pressured her to accept the arrangement she had proposed on the last day of summer vacation. Instead, Fleur allowed Hermione to consider it at her own pace, while always being available to talk if Hermione wished to discuss it.
Hermione's birthday celebration turned out to be the best she had ever experienced. She stayed up quite late with all her friends, engaging in lively conversations, laughter, and, for once, she let go of her worries about homework and classes in favor of enjoying the company of her friends. It didn't hurt that she had already finished everything due for the week.
As the night progressed, more of their friends decided to call it a night, leaving Hermione with Harry, Fleur, and Ron. Ron's behavior throughout the evening, marked by his unusual silence and intense watching of Hermione, gave her the impression that tonight might be the night he would finally step off the fence and express whatever intentions he had toward her. Hermione didn't want to hurt Ron, that was the last thing on her mind, but his persistent but ultimately futile efforts to make her notice him had begun to wear on her. She welcomed the opportunity to set things straight.
It seemed Fleur had also noticed Ron's intentions. She winked at Hermione when the two boys were engrossed in their conversation and clearly not paying attention. Then, she stood up and pulled Harry to his feet.
"I think it's time to head to bed," Fleur suggested.
Harry smiled and nodded before turning to Ron. "Are you coming, Ron?"
Ron's incoherent stammering and nervousness almost had Fleur and Hermione on the verge of giggles. He struggled to articulate his thoughts, leaving everyone in suspense. "That's… Well, what I mean to say is… erm…" Ron stammered, causing his cheeks to flush with embarrassment. "I have… something… Yeah, something to… to ask Hermione," he eventually managed to say.
Harry, always a bit slow on the uptake when it came to matters of the heart, finally picked up on the situation and slyly grinned at Ron. "Oh, okay. If I don't see you before I go to sleep, have a good night."
Mumbling an agreement, Ron watched as Harry and Fleur headed off together, parting ways at the stairs leading to their respective dormitories.
Now alone with Ron, Hermione patiently waited for him to gather the courage to make his move. However, Ron seemed to fidget and cast surreptitious glances in her direction.
"Yes, Ron?" Hermione prompted gently. "You had something you wanted to ask me?"
"Umm… Yeah," Ron replied hesitantly. "You know… we've been friends for a few years now, and I really… umm… I really like you, Hermione. And I kind of thought, what better day to… ask the girl you… like… to be your girlfriend… What better day than on her birthday?" He finished his words in a rush, his cheeks reddening even more.
Hermione found Ron's gesture to be genuinely sweet. She appreciated the effort he had put into expressing his feelings. But regardless of how much of a gentleman he was trying to be, Hermione wouldn't let her own feelings be swayed.
"Yeah," Ron said with a grin. "I figured it would be a good idea, though the b—"
He stopped suddenly, and his cheeks tinged with pink. Hermione couldn't discern what he was about to say, but it seemed like he might have received advice from someone else. Regardless, it didn't matter. If someone was influencing him, they didn't understand the true situation.
"So, now that you're my girlfriend, can I kiss you or something?" Ron asked, trying to lighten the mood.
Hermione was taken aback by his request. "Hold on, Ron!" she exclaimed, causing him to look puzzled, not sure what he had done wrong.
"I'm sorry, Ron," she continued more gently, "but I have to say no."
"What?" a bewildered Ron asked, looking as if he'd been caught off guard.
"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione repeated. "I understand your feelings, but mine aren't the same. I see you as a close brother, but nothing more."
Ron's mouth moved wordlessly for a few moments, but a telltale reddening of his neck and ears indicated that he was becoming increasingly upset.
"A brother?" Ron demanded, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "I've been acting like as much of a gentleman as I can, trying to learn what you like, how to make you happy, putting myself on the line here, and this is how you treat me?"
Hermione sighed, fully expecting Ron's reaction.
"Ron," she said gently, "I'm sorry, but I can't return your feelings."
Ron struggled to control his anger, and when he finally spoke, his words were tinged with frustration. "It won't happen, you know." He nearly forced the words through his clenched teeth, visibly upset.
Hermione, taken aback by his words, tilted her head to one side. "I'm sorry?"
"Harry is already taken, Hermione, but it seems like you still have designs on him. You may as well give up your fantasy—he has no way to get out of his betrothal, so he'll never date you."
"You think I'm holding out for Harry," Hermione repeated slowly.
"It's obvious," Ron replied nonchalantly. "I've seen you watching him, you know. You and I can be really good together, Hermione, and you have no chance with Harry. I think you should go out with me."
Hermione's jaw dropped slightly in astonishment at the unexpected turn of events.
Hermione chose not to bring up the possibility of a multiple marriage, nor the fact that Fleur was already trying to encourage her to enter into a relationship with Harry. Mentioning either of those points would only make Ron even angrier and less willing to accept her rejection.
"Oh Ron, the reason I don't want to date you has nothing to do with Harry," Hermione said firmly. "I am well aware of the marriage contract, and I know that Harry is bound to it. I'm not hoping for a relationship with Harry when he's already with Fleur. Harry is too honorable to cheat on her, and I wouldn't do that to Fleur either."
"Then why won't you go out with me? I'm just as good as Harry," Ron protested, his voice taking on a slightly whiny tone as he attempted to persuade her into a relationship.
"I've already told you, Ron. I don't think we're compatible. And you shouldn't compare yourself to Harry. It's clear that you still have some jealousy issues with him," Hermione responded.
"I'm not jealous of Harry," Ron vehemently denied, his voice growing louder.
"Ron, please, just hear me out," Hermione implored, leaning closer to him and lowering her voice. "I think a lot of your behavior around Harry, especially since the Triwizard Tournament, has been influenced by your jealousy. You shouldn't be jealous of him—he doesn't want his fame or any of the things that come with it, you know."
"You just have to bring up the tournament again, don't you?" said Ron, a touch of irritation in his voice. "I already said I was wrong—what more do you want?"
"I don't want anything, Ron," Hermione replied calmly. "I wasn't the one hurt when you called Harry a liar. You may think it's water under the bridge, but I can tell you that Harry still doesn't fully trust you like he used to. You never really discussed the situation or apologized to him, and I think you should, so you can both finally put it behind you."
"But… But… Harry told me to forget it!" Ron protested.
"But that's just Harry, Ron," Hermione pointed out. "You know how he is. Despite what he said, he was still hurt by it, and you owe him an apology."
Ron's eyes narrowed. "You've been talking with Harry about this stuff behind my back?"
"No, Ron," Hermione responded firmly. "I know how Harry feels, but he has never told me."
"You're changing the subject," Ron accused.
"I think it's more accurate to say that I've shifted the focus, but I think you needed to hear this," said Hermione, her voice resolute. "Regardless, my feelings for any of my friends are my private concern and are not up for discussion."
"Ron," she repeated, kindly, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I have no romantic feelings for you. We are quite different, and we wouldn't make a good match. Please try to move past this so we can continue to be friends."
Ron, however, was not willing to let it go without a final word. "What do you mean we wouldn't be a good match?" he demanded.
"Think about it, Ron," Hermione said, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "We argue and bicker all the time, we have very little in common, and we don't enjoy doing the same things."
"But everyone says our arguing makes us sound like an old married couple."
Hermione shook her head. "They don't really know what they're talking about. Successful relationships are built on love and mutual respect, not constant arguing. Have you seen your parents argue all the time like we do?"
"Well, Mum and Dad argue," Ron replied defensively.
"Of course they do! Every couple has times when they don't agree," Hermione explained. "But their arguing doesn't define their relationship. Our relationship isn't the close, affectionate one that couples should have. If we argue this much now, it would only get worse if we started dating. We'd probably break up eventually, and that could even ruin our friendship."
At his look of incomprehension, Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "Ron, can you even imagine us being married to each other? What would you do if you came home one day, and I wanted to discuss the latest Arithmantic formula I was working on? And you know how little I care about Quidditch. Do you really want a wife who couldn't care less about your favorite sport?"
A contemplative look appeared on Ron's face—for the first time, he seemed to be thinking about Hermione's words rather than just what he wanted. It was a promising start, Hermione thought.
"Anyway, thank you for asking, Ron, but I don't think it's a good idea. I hope we can still be friends."
With that, Hermione bid her friend good night and headed toward the stairs to the dormitories. She hated hurting him, but she knew it was for the best.
As she stepped onto the stairs and made her way up to the fifth-year girls' dormitories, she was surprised to find Fleur sitting on the landing, watching her approach with an expression of sympathy.
"He asked?" Fleur inquired quietly.
Hermione nodded, her tears beginning to flow.
"Ah, mon amie," Fleur said, drawing Hermione into a comforting hug. "It is difficult, but you have done the right thing. He is a good friend, n'est-ce pas?"
"Usually," said Hermione while dabbing at her eyes. "He can be a little flaky at times, but at the end of the day, you always know he'll be there."
"Then, if he is a true friend, he will accept your decision and allow your friendship to remain intact. If he is not…"
Fleur's final thought remained unvoiced, but Hermione knew what she was about to say, and it didn't make it any easier to hear. Nevertheless, Hermione knew the older witch was correct.
"Thank you, Fleur, but I think I'd like to go to bed now."
"Sleep well," Fleur said, kissing her softly on both cheeks before she departed to her own dormitory.
As Hermione entered her own room, she reflected that the day had generally been a good one. Regardless of the way it had ended, she had faith that Ron would come to his senses and get over his disappointment. It might take some time, but he would eventually get there.
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