Chapter 132: Hermione's Plan

The worst part Harry's second week's worth of detentions, just as George had predicted, Angelina's reaction. She cornered him just as he arrived at the Gryffindor table for breakfast on Tuesday and shouted so loudly that Professor McGonagall came to the table as well.

"Miss Johnson, how dare you make such a racket in the Great Hall! Five points from Gryffindor!"

"But Professor, he's gone and landed himself in detention again!" yelled Angelina, pointing at Harry accusingly.

"What's this, Potter?" said Professor McGonagall sharply, turning Harry. "Detention? From whom?"

"From Professor Umbridge, ma'am," muttered Harry, not meeting Professor McGonagall in the eye.

"Are you telling me," she said, lowering her voice so that the group of curious Ravenclaws behind us could not hear, "that after the warning I gave you last Monday you lost your temper in Professor Umbridge's class again?"

"Yes, ma'am" Harry muttered, speaking to the floor.

"Potter, you must get a grip on yourself! You are heading for serious trouble! Another five points from Gryffindor!"

"But-what-? Professor, no!" Harry said furiously. "I'm already being punished by her, why do you have to take points as well?"

"Because detentions do not appear to have any effect on you whatsoever!" said Professor McGonagall. "No, not another word of complaint, Potter! And as for you, Miss Johnson, you will confine your shouting matches to the Quidditch pitch in future or risk losing the team captaincy!"

Professor McGonagall strode back towards the staff table. Angelina gave Harry a look of deepest disgust and walked away. Harry slumped down on the bench beside me, fuming.

"She's taken points off Gryffindor because I'm having my fucking hand sliced open every night! How is that fair, how?"

"I know, mate," I said sympathetically, tipping bacon on to Harry's plate, "she's bang out of order."

Hermione said nothing, but the look on her face told exactly how she felt.

"You think McGonagall was right, do you?" said Harry angrily.

"I wish she hadn't taken points from you, but I think she's right to warn you not to lose your temper with Umbridge," said Hermione.

Harry did not speak to Hermione all through Charms, but when we entered Transfiguration, all of that went out the window. Professor Umbridge and her clipboard were sitting in a corner, and Harry and I exchanged excited looks.

"Excellent," I whispered as we sat down in our usual seats. "Let's see the toadstool bitch get what she deserves."

Professor McGonagall marched into the room without giving the slightest notion that she knew Professor Umbridge was there. I grinned. I was already entertained, and she hasn't even said a word yet.

"That will do," she said and silence fell immediately. "Mr. Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework. Miss Brown, please take this box of mice-don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you-and hand one to each student-"

"Hem, hem," said Professor Umbridge, with the same silly little cough she had used to interrupt Dumbledore on the first night of term. Professor McGonagall ignored her.

"Right then, everyone, listen closely-Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention-most of you have now successfully Vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have got the gist of the spell. Today, we shall be-"

"Hem, hem," said Professor Umbridge.

"Yes?" said Professor McGonagall, turning to face the annoying lump in the chair.

"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec-"

"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom," said Professor McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Professor Umbridge. Harry and I clenched our cheeks to keep from laughing, and some of the students exchanged looks of glee.

"As I was saying: today, we shall be practising the altogether more difficult Vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell-"

"Hem, hem."

"I wonder," said Professor McGonagall in cold fury, turning on Professor Umbridge, "how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking."

Oh Merlin, this was Christmas!

Professor Umbridge looked as though she had just been slapped in the face. She did not speak, but straightened the parchment on her clipboard and began scribbling furiously.

Looking very much unbothered, Professor McGonagall continued speaking to us.

"As I was saying: the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be Vanished. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So- you know the incantation, let me see what you can do ..."

"How she can lecture me about not losing my temper with Umbridge!" Harry muttered to me under his breath, but he was grinning.

"Just let the magic happen, mate. Just let the magic happen."

Professor Umbridge did not follow Professor McGonagall around the class as she had followed Professor Trelawney. She realised Professor McGonagall would chew her fucking head off. She did, however, take many more notes while sitting in her corner, and when Professor McGonagall finally told us all to pack away, she rose with a grim expression on her face.

"Well, it's a start," I said, holding up a long wriggling mouse-tail and dropping it back into the box Lavender was passing around.

As we filed out of the classroom, Harry nudged me, and I nudged Hermione in turn, and the three of us deliberately fell back to eavesdrop.

"How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Professor Umbridge asked.

"Thirty-nine years this December," said Professor McGonagall, snapping her bag shut.

Professor Umbridge made a note.

"Very well," she said, "you will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time."

"I can hardly wait," said Professor McGonagall in a sarcastic voice, and then she strode off towards the door.

"Hurry up, you three," she added, sweeping us out before her. I could have sworn she gave us a small smirk.

"I've forgotten how much I really enjoy that woman," I said to Hermione, who laughed.

When we walked down the lawns towards the Forest for Care of Magical Creatures, the toad had hopped her ugly ass down there too, standing beside Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"You do not usually take this class, is that correct?" we heard her ask as we arrived at the trestle table where the group of Bowtruckles were scrabbling around for woodlice.

"Quite correct," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, hands behind her back and bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid."

Malfoy looked way too interested in their conversation. The three of us exchanged worried looks. If Umbitch talked to the Slytherin lo, Hagrid would be done for.

"Hmm," said Professor Umbridge, dropping her voice. "I wonder. The Headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information on the matter, can you tell me what is causing Professor Hagrid's very extended leave of absence?"

Ferret Ass look up eagerly and watched Umbridge and Grubbly-Plank closely.

" 'Fraid I can't," said Professor Grubbly-Plank casually. "Don't know anything more about it than you do. Got an owl from Dumbledore, would I like a couple of weeks' teaching work. I accepted. That's as much as I know. Well ... shall I get started then?"

"Yes, please do," said Professor Umbridge, scribbling on her clipboard.

Umbridge wandered amongst the students, questioning them on magical creatures. Most people were able to answer well. At least the class was not letting Hagrid down.

"Overall," said Professor Umbridge, returning to Professor Grubbly-Plank's side after a lengthy interrogation of Dean, "how do you, as a temporary member of staff-an objective outsider, I suppose you might say-how do you find Hogwarts? Do you feel you receive enough support from the school management?"

"Oh, yes, Dumbledore's excellent," said Professor Grubbly-Plank heartily. "Yes, I'm very happy with the way things are run, very happy indeed."

Umbridge,looked as if this was not the answered she wanted. She made a tiny note on her clipboard and went on.

"And what are you planning to cover with this class this year? Assuming, of course, that Professor Hagrid does not return?"

"Oh, I'll take them through the creatures that most often come up in OWLs," said Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Not much left to do. They've studied unicorns and Nifflers, I thought we'd cover Porlocks and Kneazles, make sure they can recognize Crups and Knarls, you know."

"Well, you seem to know what you're doing, at any rate," said Professor Umbridge, making a very obvious tick on her clipboard. "Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?"

Malfoy almost came on himself with his excitement to answer the question.

"That was me," he said. "I was slashed by a hippogriff."

"A hippogriff?* said Professor Umbridge, now scribbling frantically.

"Only because he was too stupid to listen to what Hagrid told him to do," said Harry angrily.

Both Hermione and I groaned. Harry just couldn't keep his bloody mouth shut.

"Another night's detention, I think," Umbug said softly. "Well, thank you very much, Professor Grubbly-Plank, I think that's all I need here. You will be receiving the results of your inspection within ten days."

"Jolly good," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and Professor Umbridge bumbled her ass back to the castle.

"Harry, what the hell." I said, as we left class, heading for the castle.

"I know, I know, I just...oh never mind " said Harry, branching off from Hermione and I, heading for detention.

"He has got to learn to control himself, or Angelina is gonna tie him to the goalpost and pelt Bludgers at his ass." I said to Hermione as we headed to the common room.

"He just gets so angry." she said. "I hate the witch too, but I try my best to bite my tongue."

"You didn't a couple days ago," I said with a wink.

Hermione blushed. "She's just so impossible, isn't she? She brings out the worst in people and believe me when I say that I was holding my tongue very tightly."

I laughed as Hermione gave the Fat Lady the password and we climbed into the common room. "Really Noe? Was Hermione going to say a dirty word?"

"Maybe not that bad."

"Awh come on, say a dirty word," I encouraged. "Say 'Fuck off, Umbitch!'"

"Ronald Weasley, I will not!" said Hermione, as we sat down on the couch in front of the fire.

"Come on, say it. It's so easy. Matter of fact, say 'Fuck you, you simple ass fucking tosser of a bitch.' I guarantee you, it'll make you feel great."

"You're trying to corrupt me," laughed Hermione. "Why is your mouth so filthy?"

"Because I have five older brothers."

We stayed up past midnight waiting for Harry to come back from detention. When Hermione and I saw his hand, which was bloody and raw, it took everything in me not to go to her office and hex her. Hermione held back tears.

"Here," she said anxiously, pushing a small bowl of yellow liquid towards Harry, "soak your hand in that, it's a solution of strained and pickled Murtlap tentacles, it should help."

Harry placed his bleeding, aching hand into the bowl and looked as if he had found instant relief. Crookshanks curled around his legs, purring loudly, then leapt into his lap and settled down.

"Thanks," he said gratefully, scratching behind Crookshanks's ears with his left hand.

"I still reckon you should complain about this," I growled.

"No," said Harry flatly.

"McGonagall would go mental if she knew-"

"Yeah, she probably would," said Harry dully. "And how long do you reckon it'd take that fucking bitch to pass another decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?"

"Harry..."

I opened my mouth to retort but had nothing to say. He was right. All she would do is come up with some bullshit to get people in trouble.

"She's an awful woman," said Hermione in a small voice. "Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in ... we've got to do something about her."

"I suggested poison,"

"I told you no already, Ronald. I mean, something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and how we're not going to learn any Defense from her at all," said Hermione.

"Well, what can we do about that?" I said, yawning. "It's too late, isn't it? She's got the job, she's here to stay. Fudge'll make sure of that."

"Well," said Hermione. "You know, I was thinking today that...that maybe the time's come when we should just...just do it ourselves."

"Do what ourselves?" said Harry suspiciously, still floating his hand in the essence of Murtlap tentacles.

"Well-learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves," said Hermione.

"Come off it," I said. "You want us to do extra work? D'you realise Harry and I are behind on homework again and it's only the second week?"

"But this is much more important than homework!" said Hermione.

Harry and I eyeballed her.

"I didn't think there was anything in the universe more important than homework!" I said in actual awe at her.

"Don't be silly, of course there is," said Hermione. "It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge's first lesson, for what's waiting for us out there. It's about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year-"

"We can't do much by ourselves," I exclaimed. "I mean, all right, we can go and look jinxes up in the library and try and practice them, I suppose-"

"No, I agree, we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," said Hermione. "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong."

"If you're talking about Lupin ..." Harry began.

"No, no, I'm not talking about Lupin," said Hermione. "He's too busy with the Order and, anyway, the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and that's not nearly often enough."

"Who, then?" said Harry, frowning at her.

Hermione heaved a very deep sigh.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said. "I'm talking about you,Harry."

There was a moment of silence, and somewhere in the room, a cricket chirped.

"About me what?" said Harry.

"I'm talking about you teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts."

It sounded almost barmy, but it also made a lot of sense. It was actually brilliant. Harry looked at Hermione, and then at me, as if he was about to protest.

"That's an idea, mate." I said

"What's an idea?" said Harry.

"You teaching us to do it."

"But ..."

Harry was starting to look amused, as if Hermione and I were joking.

"But I'm not a teacher, I can't-"

"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione.

"Me?" said Harry, grinning even more. "No, I'm not, you've beaten me in every test-"

"Actually I haven't," said Hermione coolly. "You beat me in our third year-the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew the subject. But I'm not talking about test results, Harry. Think what you've done!"

"How d'you mean?"

"You know what, I'm not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me," I said to Hermione, who grinned and shook her head. "Let's think. First year-you saved the Sorcerer's Stone from You-Know-Who."

"But that was luck," said Harry, "it wasn't skill-"

"Second year," I interrupted, "you killed the Basilisk and destroyed Riddle."

"Yeah, but if Fawkes hadn't turned up, I-"

"Third year," I interrupted again, louder still, "you fought off about a hundred dementors at once-"

"You know that was a fluke, if the Time-Turner hadn't-"

"Last year," I said, almost shouting now, "you fought off You-know-Who again-"

"Listen to me!" said Harry, almost angrily, because Hermione and I were both smirking now. "Just listen to me, all right? It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I didn't plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help-"

We were still smirking, which really wasn't helping with Harry's moor. But it was somewhat amusing watching him doubt himself when Hermione and I both knew he was brilliant.

"Don't sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn't I?' he said heatedly. "I know what went on, all right? And I didn't get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because (Hermione and I were laughing) help came at the right time, or because I guessed right-but I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing-STOP LAUGHING!"

The bowl of Murtlap essence fell to the floor and smashed as Harry stood up in irritation. Crookshanks streaked away under a sofa. Hermione and I stopped laughing

"You don't know what it's like! You-neither of you-you've never had to face him, have you? You think it's just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time you're sure you know there's nothing between you and dying except your own-your own brain or guts or whatever-like you can think straight when you know you're about a nanosecond from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die- they've never taught us that in their classes, what it's like to deal with things like that-and you two sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up-you just don't get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn't needed me-"

"We weren't saying anything like that, mate. We weren't having a go at Diggory, we didn't-you've got the wrong end of the-"

I looked helplessly at Hermione, whose face was stricken.

"Harry," she said timidly, don't you see? This ... this is exactly why we need you ... we need to know what it's r-really like ... facing him ... facing V-Voldemort."

That was the first time she had ever said his actual name. I really admired her bravery, because I still couldn't bring myself to say it.

"Well ... think about it," said Hermione quietly. "Please?"

Harry nodded, looking exhausted and over it. Hermione stood up.

"Well, I'm off to bed. Erm ... night."

"Coming?" I said awkwardly to Harry, as I had gotten up to go to bed too.

"Yeah," said Harry. "In ... in a minute. I'll just clear this up."