Chapter 32 - Year 5, part 3

Authornote:
This chapter contains a scene that I have ripped directly from the internet - more or less copy-pasted - so, to whoever made this: I applaud you.

If you know, you know.

Here's a link if you want to be spoiled.
.dk/pin/883620389371871014/

…

September 7th, 1995

The school had been buzzing for the entire week, but apparently, Hermione had been too caught up in her own head to really notice it. The issue was that it wasn't a good buzzing. It was the kind of buzzing that comes from being too close to a nest of angry wasps. the part where you know that there's something wrong, even if you don't know how bad it will actually get.

For now, the buzzing was the students milling around the hallways, whispering questioning around themselves about whether or not it could really be true.

It had never happened before - not in the degree that was happening now. But still, how bad could it be?

The Gryffindors were about to find out, as they walked cautiously into the Classroom of Defence against the Dark Arts.

Professor Umbridge in her fluffy pink cardigan, stood primly by the blackboard, her back straight and a too-sweet smile on her lips. She looked almost like she was ready to have dessert before even touching the main course.

Hermione wanted to vomit.

But then again, how bad could it possibly be? She then momentarily thought back on the other teachers that Dumbledore had assigned to teaching them DADA, and suddenly wasn't so sure anymore.

Plastering a neutral look on her face despite the ice flooding her veins, she sat down at a table next to Neville, and awaited the beginning of class.

Soon enough, she welcomed them to her class. But then, apparently, they hadn't greeted her 'properly' and she reprimanded the lot of them and told them exactly how they should answer her greeting.

"Good afternoon professor Umbridge." Echoed mechanically and emotionlessly throughout the room, and Umbridge smiled brightly in response. So that's what she wanted? Obedience and submission? If that was true, this might just be the first time that Hermione had successfully caught onto a teacher within the first few minutes of class.

She wasn't entirely impressed by the revelation.

"That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and books out, please." She said sweetly and pulled out a short wand which she proceeded to tap on the backboard to conjure the name for their defence book.

At least she said 'please'. Hermione thought sourly, not like the tone of their professor even the slightest. But even as all other students in the class started exchanging looks of incredulously, she remained seated and unmoving.

A DADA lesson without the use of a wand? This was beyond strange. That Umbridge then wanted them to read a damn chapter like they were in elementary school? That simply wouldn't do. She could read, of course. In fact, she had already read the entire book - it hadn't been interesting enough for a re-read. Or difficult enough for it to be needed.

Around her, her classmates started withdrawing their books and began reading the chapter - but Hermione did not.

No, Hermione instead openly stared at Umbridge who in turn obviously ignored her.

Hermione noticed that her friends were starting to put down the books - each of them looking more tired than they had when they arrived. I know, it's a good bedtime-story. She thought in sympathy for them.

No sooner had Harry lifted his focus to her, before many of their other classmates did the same. She could feel too many eyes on her person, and on a normal occasion she would have hated it. but right now, it empowered her to continue.

When Umbridge finally stopped ignoring Hermione, she had been staring openly at the 'teacher' for maybe 15 or 20 minutes.

"Is there a question about the chapter, dear." Again, the voice of someone talking to a child.

"No. I understood it perfectly fine."

"Then your question can wait for after class, miss…?"

"Granger. And no, since I expect to be able to learn something in your class, it most certainly cannot wait."

Umbridge's eyebrows went to the roof in obvious shock. Neville shifted uncomfortably beside her and Hermione understood very well why, it just wouldn't make her stand back.

"I have a query about your course aims." Hermione said quickly, wondering how far she could push this before the pink fluff in front of her imploded. "There's nothing written up there, or in the book, about using defensive spells."

"We're not going to be using magic?" Ronald Weasley gasped from the back of the class.

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

"Weasley."

She saw Harry and multiple other students thrust their hands up into the air, but Hermione's remained down. she had made her point, and now it was up to the toad to get a hold of herself before she exploded all over the class. Maybe Hermione did feel a little bit guilty about starting a fight and not finishing it, but she would just have to bid her time.

Umbridge then went out of way to snipe down Hermione about having questioned the course which had, apparently, been decided by wizards much older and cleverer than a small school girl who had no prior knowledge or qualifications on the matter. It was only when she started talking about learning in a 'secure, risk-free way' that Harry put himself into the equation.

"What use will it be? If we're going to be attacked it surely won't-"

Umbridge looked to be nearly shaking with rage. "Mr. Potter, do you expect to be attacked in my class?"

"Yes." Harry, Daniel and Hermione answered instantly. You would be able to hear a pin drop to the floor, as Umbridge looked to be noticeable taken aback.

"Wh-what?"

"Well, I mean, I'm running four for four. It's really just a matter of time." Harry stated immediately with a shrug.

"Mr. Potter-"

"Quirrel tried to choke me - while having Voldemort —" Harry said and loud gasps were heard throughout the room "—in the back of his head; Lockhart tried to wipe my memories. Then there was Lupin - even if it was only by accident since he forgot his potion. I mean, I've lived with him for most of my life and he's never attacked me before, so -"

"Mr. Potter-" She interrupted, thoroughly angry, but Harry wouldn't let her.

"And then Moody turned out to be an escapee in disguise that the ministry couldn't catch."

"POTTER!" She screamed, as she flared directly for his table with her face so red it almost complimented her hideous sweater.

"So, yeah, I figure there's 100% chance you'll attack me in June, 50/50 that you'll try to kill me, with 25% chance of using an unforgivable." He shrugged, before turning towards Hermione. "Did I get the math right?"

She shrugged, and leaned back casually in her seat, crossing her arm in front of her chest as she did. "Yes. Though, I'd probably guess 50/50 on her already trying to get you out of the way some time before Easter, as opposed to only in June."

"DETENTION!" She screamed at Harry, her wand drawn right into his indifferent face, when he chose to look down to inspect his fingernails, her wand turned towards Hermione. "Both of you! For two weeks!"

Well, there went her evenings with Draco, Hermione thought sourly, even though she would have done it all over again if she had to.

Hermione looked Umbridge dead in the eye, as she leaned forward on to her table and thus closer to the wand pointed at her forehead. Lifting her hand, she chose a very specific middlefinger, raised it, and scratched her temple.

Umbridge frowned in confusion, and Hermione snickered inwardly about the fact that their professor apparently didn't know what Hermione had just done. "I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention, extremely dangerous half-breeds."

Dean Thomas tried to come to Remus's defence, but was instantly made quiet by Umbridge as she yelled for 'hands!' before trying to regain her control over the class by once again addressing them as small 7-year-old children, as she told them about the uses of complex, inappropriate and potentially lethal spells. Well, Hermione couldn't argue with that - but they had been taught by a damn convict for an entire year. A convict who seemed set on teaching them how to handle being attacked by both the Imperius and the Cruciatus curses.

Hermione tried to tune the rest of the discussion out after that, since it went back and forth with their professor attacking them and trying to make them sound like lesser beings who didn't know what happened around them - while the entire class seemed hellbent on proving her wrong.

Then Umbridge decided to do the one thing that set her apart from most other ministry workers trying to avoid a fight between heaven and hell. She chose chaos.

"You have been led to believe that a certain dark wizard —" she nearly spat the words "has come back from the dead." Harry tried to interrupt her since he had actually been there and seen what he fully believed to be the resurrection of Lord Voldemort. The toad simply ignored him, just as he had chosen to ignore her beforehand. "But that is faulty. It is a lie, to make you scared, and open to manipulation."

"Like you're doing now?" Harry inquired, which resulted in him instantly losing 10 points. Harry looked like he almost couldn't care any less - almost.

"Three weeks, Mr Potter. Unless you want to lose any more points for your precious house, I would advise you to hold your tongue!" She sneered, and just like that, she managed to turn an entire house against her - a house that included Mr. Harry James Potter.

…

After class, Harry went directly to Professor McGonagall with a personal note from Umbridge, so Harry didn't get a chance to speak to his friends until halfway through dinner.

"Soo…?" Neville inquired without actually asking the question they were all dying to ask.

"So - what?" Harry asked as he sat down and started piling his plate.

"Shut up Harry - what did she say?" Daniel asked with little to no nonsense.

"She… told me to have a biscuit. It was very odd to say the least." He said, frowning, before telling them all about his conversation with McGonagall.

"So, you need to listen more to what I'm saying, and we need to be careful around the bitch. Is that correctly understood?" Hermione asked, completely exasperated by the constant amount of utter bullshit that was constantly thrown their way.

"Yeah. Basically." Harry said, violently stabbing a potato.

"I'm going to kill her." Hermione stated matter of factly, as she looked towards the Teacher's table with narrowed eyes.

…

September 8th, 1995

It was almost a pleasure to leave the Gryffindor common, meeting up with half of their DADA class in front of the classroom to do detention.

Even though they were about to feel this particular backlash of their decisions, Harry had felt it all day in the form of whispers and stares that followed him around, everywhere he went. No one, it would seem, believed him when he said, time and time again, that Voldemort was back.

There were even Gryffindors from their own year, who right out refused to believe him.

She had both seen and heard William taking his defence on multiple occasions in the Great Hall, but he couldn't always step in. Also, Harry had been adamant that Wills shouldn't ruin his last year by defending someone that had always been the talk of the town.

That didn't mean that Hermione had to like it. Or, that William would stop defending him simply because Harry didn't like it. Damn Hufflepuffs.

Someone at the front of their group knocked on the door. She couldn't directly see Umbridge as the door opened, but she swore she could have vomited on the floor just from the sound of her sugar-sweet voice.

"Ah, Welcome - come in. Take your seats." The door opened wider, and slowly, the students all walked inside.

The room, in itself. Looked exactly like it had had the day prior. In fact, the only thing that had changed was the seating-arrangement.

Where before, they would always sit at conjured double seats - now they were singular. All spread out around the room, like they were about to take some kind of test.

She, Harry and Daniel shared quick looks, before taking seats as far back as possible. Well, as far back as possible considering that there were about ten people sitting in a room that couple easily hold like 30 or 40 people.

As she sat down, a rolled-up piece of parchment materialized in front of her.

"For the next three and a half hours, you will be doing lines. In front of you is a piece of parchment with the line on that you will be repeating. Enjoy!" Umbridge ended her little rundown with what sounded almost like a jubilant laugh. Enjoy? Who was she kidding?

Hermione once again felt like she was being berated like a mere child. She hated it.

Frowning up the toad, Hermione blindly grabbed the parchment to see what utter nonsense she would be repeating.

It was so stupid, that she almost laughed. She probably would have, if she wasn't absolutely certain that she would be rewarded by more detention than she already had.

But this? This was hilarious.

I do not know better.

Was this supposed to be some kind of joke?

Looking up from her parchment, she side-eyed Harry, and found him doing exactly the same.

"What the hell?" He mouthed at her, and she just shrugged her shoulders because she really had no idea.

Then she looked down again, picked up a pen from her bag, and started writing.

When the three and a half hours finally ran out, the friends could agree that it had probably been the most boring detention ever. To have spent their Friday night on it, was even worse.

…

September 9th, 1995

"Well, I mean… Getting detention on your very first DADA class is almost an achievement in itself." Theo laughed as he finished writing something in his essay.

"You're so funny. It's almost like I'm proud of it." She dead panned, rolling her eyes at her friend.

"Come on, Hermione, it's fun." Theo laughed again, not catching her irritation. Or maybe he was just plainly ignoring it?

"Yeeeah, what fun!" She said, icily and ironically, "Having to write 'I do not know better', for three and a half bloody hours, for two fucking weeks, is just so fun, Theo." She was looking him dead in the eyes, as she took a chocolate bar from her bag, opened it and took a bite - all while maintaining constant eye contact with him.

She could kill him. She really could. Without a question.

Theo's eyes narrowed slightly as he took her in, before turning completely towards Draco. "Mate, can I see your Herbology essay - mine's a mess."

Draco gave a small laugh, "Not a chance." Theo groaned loudly, muttered something incoherently, and repeated his question to Daphne who pulled out her essay and started drilling him until he got the correct answers.

"I know it sucked about detention and all, but I'd have loved to be a fly on the wall in your class. Everyone talks about how Potter gave her a proper run for her Galleons." Draco said quietly beside her. As she looked up at him, he was smiling down at her. Like it was… fun.

"Well, it's not exactly enjoyable to watch Harry naming all of the professors who have tried to kill him through the years. Seeing her get more and more red in the face was kind of fun, though, but the reasons why? Not so funny." She grimaced.

He blanched. "Oh. I… No one talked about what he actually said to her. Just that she looked like she was about to explode. I'm sorry - I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." She sighed, now understanding what he had thought it was fun. "It's okay. People only say what they want others to hear, I guess." She shrugged, and turned back to her equations. Sighing once again when she found the numbers dancing around the paper in front of her.

What a day.

Moments later she felt his hand on her arm, caressing all the way down from her elbow until he grabbed her hand. "Please don't be mad at me. I can't stand it." He whispered, and when she looked up at him, he looked sad.

"I'm not, Draco." She whispered back with a soft smile and intertwined her fingers lazily with his. "I just don't get why people keep running around, spreading half-truths about a boy who's done nothing but try to survive for his entire life. He's having a hard enough time as it is - adding to it, isn't fair."

"Is he… Is Potter alright?" Hermione had completely forgotten that someone else happened to be in the same room as them, until she heard Theo's voice.

"He…" She frowned, wondering how she should word her thoughts, while also contemplating how much she could actually say without betraying Harry's trust on the matter. "He started having some really bad dreams just before the Quidditch Cup, that freaks him out a lot, and they've started picking up again. I mean, having the dreams in themselves is really hard on him… But they appear to be hyper-realistic, and he can't always distinguish between whether they're memories or his mind playing tricks on him. Horrible, horrible tricks, I'd like to point out. Then there's the part where he still struggles with the aftermath of the tournament. Also, his hero-complex and Umbridge isn't helping him. So, it's a bit much for him, really." she said sadly, focusing on Draco's hand and the lines on his knuckles, as she told them about her best friend's troubles.

Grazing her fingers over his smooth skin felt calming. The only things that could really compare in any way, were sleeping next to William, and that definitely wasn't the same!

Theo hummed in acknowledgement, but it was Daphne who spoke. "There sure is a lot on his shoulders. Will you - will you tell him that we offer our assistance, if he needs it?"

It was at this moment that Hermione realized that maybe the world wasn't split into bad or good people. Maybe, it was split into regular, compassionate people - and Umbridge's.

"Sure, Daphne, I'll let him know. Thank you."