Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the related characters. The Harry Potter series is created by JK Rowling. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story… As always…
For reading convenience, the bold parts are excerpts from the original version.
Chapter 4
This pronouncement was followed by one of the loudest silences Harry had ever heard. Then -
"I will ask you one more time," said Professor Umbridge very quietly but obviously through gritted teeth, "What are you here for?"
"Discussion," replied Hermione lightly, "As we have told you. In any case, many of the other students have their questions as well. Neville here, for instance -"
"So," Umbridge spoke again, her voice more dangerous than ever, "You, you support him, don't you? You are all against me, and the Ministry, don't you?"
"Yes -"
"Yes -"
"Yes!"
Harry heard their voices, all of them. Ron's, Hermione's, Neville's, Dean's (he thought of Seamus for a moment but pushed the idea out of his head), Fred and George's… Their voices drowned Umbridge's cries and yells and echoed within the confined space of the office, as well as in the hollow space inside Harry's heart. He had never believed that there were so many of them. He had never believed that they would stick up for him and for his testimony, that they would be arguing here with Umbridge and with the forces that lay behind her. He felt happier and more supported than ever. They were not capable of fighting Voldemort with him, perhaps, but they at least stood beside him on the opposite side of Umbridge. It transpired to him, all of a sudden, that he was not alone in this battle.
"You should have realized, Professor," came Neville's low yet defiant voice, "What might be waiting for you at this school when you set foot in it. You should have thought better of us. You should have known and understood that although some of us chose easy over right, the rest of us recognized the truth, and would continue to uphold it until the end. There might be more on the other side at the moment, but as everything goes on, there will be more of us. This, we are sure."
Nobody spoke for some time. Then Hermione suddenly cried, in an extremely unconvincing tone of surprise, "Oh my goodness, the afternoon lessons have already started. Dear dear, I didn't even notice. What a pity!"
The door suddenly creaked open and Harry leapt back in shock as the entire party filed out behind Hermione, all looking exceptionally pleased. Harry caught a glimpse of Umbridge by the table. He did not see her face but he was certain that if he had, it would have been the angriest he had ever witnessed.
"Harry!" Ron rushed up to him and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak as the office door shut again, "How did I do?"
"Wonderful," Harry couldn't help ginning, "Tell me, is this all improvision, or is this prepared speech?"
"Half-half," said Neville, who was also smiling, though rather nervously, "I thought you'd realized it when I started on the 'easy over right' thing. That obviously isn't something I could think of."
"You were excellent," said Harry, beaming around at them, "You were all excellent! Of course, as your opponent's someone like Umbridge, you really couldn't expect failure, right?"
Everybody laughed.
"Always the same thing - you can never count on a Death Eater's brain."
…
"But -" Hermione began.
"That is enough," said Professor Umbridge. She walked back to the front of the class and stood before them, all the jauntiness she had shown at the beginning of the lesson gone. "Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor House."
There was an outbreak of muttering at this.
"What for?" said Harry angrily.
"For disrupting my class with pointless interruptions," said Professor Umbridge smoothly. "I am here to teach you using a Ministry-approved method that does not include inviting students to give their opinions on matters about which they understand very little. Your previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more license, but as none of them - with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects - would have passed a Ministry inspection -"
"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher," said Harry loudly, "there was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head."
This pronouncement was followed by one of the loudest silences Harry had ever heard. Then -
"I think another week's detentions would do you some good, Mr. Potter," said Umbridge sleekly.
"Oh really?" said Harry coldly.
"Yes, and this time I am going act upon my own authority, Mr. Potter," said Umbridge smugly, "Speaking to your head of house apparently has no effect on correcting your behaviours, so…"
"Has it ever occurred to you," said Harry, stressing each syllable as he looked at Umbridge with the fiercest stare he could muster, "That probation actually means something?"
"What are you saying?" interjected Umbridge, panic creeping up her cheeks.
"Probation!" said Harry impatiently, "Professor McGonagall, or shall we say our Deputy Headmistress, declared that you were on probation last Tuesday evening. Therefore, you are deprived of certain teacher's powers which include deducting house points and handing out detentions."
Everyone looked stunned at hearing this, especially Hermione.
"Yes, yes, I've looked it up," continued Harry, "Your detentions are not binding ever since that moment, which means I have it within my rights not to accept them."
"And, you -" said Umbridge, leaning towards Harry, "You mean -"
"Yes!" said Harry firmly, "I refuse to attend your detention!"
"Oh, you do, do you?"
Harry did not answer. He merely stared at Umbridge, eyebrows raised. He could feel the rest of the class's rapt attention in the air. Umbridge's face worked furiously while Harry tried with all his might to keep his own as calm as possible - after all, he wasn't really sure about how probation worked. A quick look over the library during break and without Hermione's help hadn't been enough for him to gain a detailed understanding, but he got the gist anyway.
The silence spiralled horribly between them, broken at last by Hermione's quiet voice, "Um, what should I do then, Professor? I've read the whole book after all. And I do believe that jinxes can be very useful when they're used defensively."
These last two sentences, Harry was certain, were meant to get him out of the deadlock with Umbridge, who by the looks of it felt the same. With the appearance of someone struggling to bring the conversation back onto a plane she understood, Umbridge hitched her iconic toad-like smile back onto her face and turned to Hermione, "Well, I believe, as the Ministry do, that Defensive Magical Theory, a detailed and thorough theoretical analysis of magical defence written by an authoritative specialist and examined by the Ministry of Magic, should deserve much more perusal than you have given it by now, Miss Granger. What I ask you to do next is to read the textbook through again, and not to further interrupt the flow of my lessons with your personal and highly childish inquiries."
"Wow, that's something," said Ron lazily, coming out of his reverie (he had remained unusually still over the past ten minutes), "Tell me, can you remember what that bloke Slinkhard says about counterjinxes in chapter fifteen? Or what he says about the derivations of common defensive theories? Or what the first word of page 267 is?"
"'Above'," murmured Hermione automatically.
"See, You can't, but, Hermione can. You don't even know the book better than she does. Mind you, you're a professor. So, stop saying she hasn't given this pile of rubbish the perusal it deserves."
Umbridge turned slowly to Ron. "Mr. Weasley, are you by any chance questioning the methods with which I deliver my classes?" she asked, "Are you expressing doubts over the way that I teach my students? Are you having concerns about my expertise?"
"It might have escaped your notice but somehow I am" Ron replied calmly, "We are sick of reading the stupid textbook over and over again. We are sick of listening to all those foolish claims that contain the buzzword 'Ministry'. We are sick of you as well. Come on, leave us alone, and let us do something more meaningful."
The rest of the class whispered in agreement. Neville, Dean and Parvati nodded particularly hard.
"I repeat, as I have said during our first lesson, you are not a Ministry-trained educational expert. Nobody here is except for me," said Umbridge dismissively, "You, as young and innocent pupils, have not had the experiences required to speak your mind or your opinion against more qualified figures in the field of magical education or Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Yet it is my knowledge," said Harry, his hand in the air once more, "That none of these 'experts' you mentioned have had experiences with confronting Lord Voldemort, slaying Basilisks or chasing off Dementors, have they?"
The class gave a collective shudder at hearing Voldemort's name.
"These heroic incidents, if indeed they are true rather than non-existent, are not related to our class, Mr. Potter," said Professor Umbridge, voice restored to its usual sweetness.
"Not related to our class?" said Harry, temper and voice rising together, "It is related to everyone sitting in this classroom! Do you know what it feels like to have Voldemort" - again they flinched - "staring at you from the back of someone's head? Do you know what it feels like to have his memory tormenting me even though he's in exile? Do you know what it feels like to have to face him last June? To watch him reborn? To be a part of his rebirth? To see my classmate die? To be tied to that tombstone and nearly killed? You owe me!" and Harry, having lost his temper completely, sprang to his feet, "You!" he jerked his finger at Umbridge, "You owe me because if it hadn't been for me, you would all be living under his tyranny! Or is that what you want, you Death Eater?"
He glared at Umbridge with as much force as he could possibly summon. She backed away several paces and nearly bumped into the wall, shaking her head frantically.
"Aren't so brave and dignified now, hey?" he jeered as Umbridge stood frozen in disbelief, "So, why would it be like this? Why would the Ministry be so intent on turning me into a laugh? Why would you be so interested in getting me into trouble and detention? What have I got to do with all of you? I don't volunteer to fight Voldemort!" - Umbridge even forgot to flinch - "I don't volunteer to be the one all these things have happened to! But I was, and I SAVED YOUR NECK!" he waved his arms wildly around and Umbridge winced, "How dare you speak of my sufferings as if they were nothing more than mere fiction? How dare you mention my past with that kind of indifference and aspersion? How dare -" he banged his fist onto the table before him, "you" - he kicked the table over with a crash - "do that" - he picked up his textbook from the mess at his feet - "in front of me!" He hurled the book at Umbridge, whose eyes widened in fright as she ducked to avoid a direct collision.
She didn't manage it. Harry's copy of Defensive Magical Theory hit her squarely on the forehead and bounced off onto the ground.
"Whoops," he said softly, "let's hope she hasn't got a scar on her forehead or we'll be asked to worship her next."
And Harry, who by now was positively astounded by his nerves, turned on his heels and marched out of the classroom, leaving Umbridge's indistinguishable shrieks of pain and humiliation in his wake.