CHAPTER 71: FRACTURED AUTHORITY

As he reached Flitwick's classroom, he paused outside the door, taking a deep breath to compose himself. The day had barely started, and he already felt like he'd gone through a war zone. But he couldn't let any of it show. Not here. Not now.

Pushing the door open, he slipped into the classroom, hoping to blend into the background without attracting any attention. Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Flitwick's cheerful voice rang out as he looked up from the front of the room. "How nice of you to join us. Care to explain why you're late?"

Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and he fought the urge to yell in frustration. This was absurd, even for Umbridge. How could she twist the situation so blatantly in Cho's favor? He knew the woman hated him, but punishing Susan too was beyond unfair.

"That's not what happened!" he snapped, taking a step forward. "Susan was trying to stop Cho from hexing me. You saw that!"

Umbridge's simpering smile never wavered. "Oh, Mr. Potter, I'm afraid your version of events doesn't align with what I saw. But don't worry," she added in a patronizing tone, "you'll have plenty of time to reflect on your actions during detention tonight. Perhaps it will teach you the importance of restraint."

"Restraint?" Harry echoed, his voice rising. "Restraint while being attacked?"

Susan, meanwhile, had turned a deep shade of red. She looked like she wanted to argue, but the rational part of her knew that crossing Umbridge in any way would make things worse.

"I will be reporting this to Professor McGonagall," Susan said, her voice low but firm. "As a prefect, I am obligated to ensure that rules are upheld fairly."

Umbridge's smile faltered slightly, but only for a moment. "You do that, Miss Bones. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be most interested in hearing your… interpretation of events. But in the meantime, I suggest you both head to your next classes before more points are deducted."

Harry opened his mouth to protest again, but Susan shook her head ever so slightly, silently urging him to stop. He gritted his teeth, biting back whatever retort was on the tip of his tongue. This wasn't over, not by a long shot, but for now, arguing would only dig them into a deeper hole.

Cho, meanwhile, looked positively triumphant. With her wand now safely back in her hand, she didn't even bother to hide the smug grin on her face. She gave Harry a final, derisive look before turning on her heel and walking away.

"Good luck in detention, Potter," she sneered over her shoulder.

Harry's jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He wanted to shout, to hex something, but instead, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and forced himself to breathe.

Umbridge gave one last, infuriatingly sweet smile. "Have a good day, Mr. Potter. Miss Bones. Do try to stay out of trouble, won't you?"

With that, she turned and strutted down the hallway, leaving Harry and Susan standing there, seething.

"I can't believe this," Harry muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Detention, and for what? Trying not to get hexed?"

Susan sighed, shaking her head. "You know how Umbridge is. She doesn't care about the truth, only what benefits her narrative. She's been out for you since day one."

"Yeah, well, she's going to have to answer for this," Harry grumbled. "McGonagall won't stand for it."

Susan looked thoughtful for a moment. "True. But we need to be careful how we handle this. Umbridge is gaining more influence by the day, and the last thing we need is for her to start singling us out even more. Especially you."

Harry nodded, though his frustration remained simmering just beneath the surface. "Yeah, I get that. But I'm not going to just sit back and take it."

"Neither am I," Susan agreed, her eyes hardening with resolve. "We'll take this to McGonagall and let her handle it. But in the meantime…" She glanced at the clock on the wall. "We'd better get to class before we end up in even more trouble."

Harry sighed. "Right. Flitwick's already going to give me an earful for being late."

They turned and began walking toward the Charms classroom in silence, both lost in their thoughts. As they approached the door, Harry couldn't help but glance over at Susan.

"Thanks, by the way," he said quietly. "For stepping in back there."

Susan gave him a small, tired smile. "Anytime, Harry. We've got to stick together, especially with Umbridge and people like Cho gunning for us."

Harry nodded, feeling a flicker of gratitude toward his friends amidst the swirl of frustration and anger. At least not everyone was against him. The weight of the last few weeks had begun to bear down on him—Voldemort's return, the Ministry's denial, and now this ridiculous farce led by Umbridge. He pushed these thoughts aside as they made their way to Flitwick's classroom, determined to focus on what was in front of him. Together, they pushed open the door as quietly as they could, slipping inside like shadows cast in the fading light of the day.

But Harry knew deep down that this was just the beginning. The real battle wasn't with Flitwick or even the constant threat of Voldemort lurking in the shadows. No, this one was far closer to home—and somehow more insidious. Dolores Umbridge wasn't just another teacher. She was a weapon sent by the Ministry, one that wielded the law like a blunt instrument, bludgeoning those who dared to speak up or resist. She had drawn blood from Harry and his friends, and now she would pay for it.

Watching Cho Chang leave the room with that sneer etched across her face, Harry felt something inside him snap. He had held his tongue before, out of a sense of obligation, out of restraint. But he was done now—done staying silent about Voldemort, done being bullied. If Umbridge thought she could continue tormenting him and his friends with impunity, she was sorely mistaken.

His voice was sharp as he turned to face her, his eyes blazing. "Clear, is it?" Harry snapped, not caring that the entire room had gone silent, all eyes fixed on him. "Well then, I'd like to Floo-call my guardian, Lord Sirius Black, and ask him to view our memories. He's a Hit-Wizard, Professor. He knows the law far better than some Ministry Undersecretary playing schoolteacher." His words dripped with barely concealed contempt. "Or did Minister Fudge secure you an Auror post too, Professor?"

The color in Umbridge's cheeks deepened, her frog-like eyes bulging as she stiffened. "Ten points from Gryffindor for insolence!" she squeaked, her voice trembling with fury. "And for your information, Pensive memories are not acceptable as evidence in school matters."

Susan Bones, standing beside Harry, jumped in without missing a beat. Her voice was cold but steady, cutting through the tension. "But this isn't a criminal case, is it? We're discussing a school matter, which means Pensieve memories are perfectly acceptable as evidence."

Harry stepped forward, narrowing the gap between himself and Umbridge. His eyes glinted with a dangerous calm, something that sent a shiver down the spines of those watching. "Professor Umbridge," he said, almost too softly, "wouldn't you like to come with us to Professor Dumbledore's office? He is, after all, still the Headmaster of this school."

Umbridge flinched at the mention of Dumbledore's name, her knuckles white as she gripped her wand. "That's hardly necessary," she said, though the quiver in her voice betrayed her.

"Oh, I think it is." Harry's tone was darker now, simmering with a quiet rage that threatened to boil over. He could understand Fudge's paranoia, even Cho's misplaced anger. He could tolerate the fears of those who saw him as dangerous, touched by the darkness of his connection to Voldemort. But this? This toad-like woman using her authority to punish him and his friends simply because she could? That was something he would not stand for.

He took another step closer. "Say, Professor, did I hear correctly that Dumbledore placed you under probation? You've already failed to protect students from attacks—Malfoy hexed me in the hallway, and I ended up in the Hospital Wing with broken bones, despite following the book you recommended." His voice grew icier with each word. "And now, once again, another student attacks me, and you draw the wrong conclusions."

He let a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. "Tell me, Professor, is that enough to send you packing back to the Ministry?"

Umbridge's face contorted with rage, her hand shaking as she pointed her wand at him. "Don't you dare look so smug, Harry Potter!" she spat, her voice trembling with venom. "You may think you've won, but you cannot fool me. I know exactly what you are—a freak. I'll see to it that you're expelled from Hogwarts, mark my words. And when I'm through, not even your godfather, nor her aunt," she added with a venomous glare at Susan, "or even Albus Dumbledore will be able to save you."

Harry tilted his head slightly, studying her. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the fear barely concealed beneath her blustering threats. She was terrified of him—terrified of what he represented. And that was something he could use. He stepped even closer, his posture completely relaxed, his face impassive.

"Oh, I don't doubt it," he said softly, his voice a low whisper that sent a chill through the room. "But the question is, Professor—do you understand what you're up against?"

For a moment, the silence in the classroom was deafening. The only sound was the rapid beat of Harry's heart as he stared down Dolores Umbridge. Her wand wavered slightly in her hand, the knuckles turning white as her composure cracked. Harry could see it—the uncertainty flickering in her beady eyes. She had expected rebellion, yes, but what she saw now in Harry was something far more dangerous. He wasn't just a rebellious student anymore. He was a force to be reckoned with, and he wasn't playing by her rules. Not anymore.

Of all the things he had said, this—this moment, this confrontation—shocked her the most.

"Your Minister tried to paint me as a murderer." Harry's voice was low, calm, but it carried the weight of truth that made the hairs on the back of Umbridge's neck rise. "Instead, I became the Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

He took another step, closing the gap between them, his eyes never leaving hers. The tension in the room mounted as students exchanged nervous glances, wondering just how far this would go.

"Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater," Harry continued, his voice steady, unwavering. "And despite what happened at the trial, we both know who was truly responsible for Cedric's death. You can claim I'm lying, Madam Umbridge, but when the truth comes out—when the Dark Lord resurfaces—can you even imagine what will happen to your beloved Minister?" His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, and even the students who had no idea of the political undercurrents felt a chill.

Another step. His power crackled around him, subtle but palpable.

"And more importantly," Harry said, his voice soft but cutting like a knife, "can you imagine what will happen to you?"

Umbridge's confident mask slipped further. Her carefully cultivated air of superiority was fading fast, replaced by something else—something that looked a lot like fear. She swallowed hard, her lips trembling as she tried to regain control of the situation. "You—you're lying!" she stammered, her voice shrill, as though shouting the accusation would make it true. "He's not back! You're just a—a lying—"

"You should hope that I am," Harry hissed, his words sharp enough to cut. His eyes burned into hers, filled with the weight of everything he had endured—Voldemort's return, Cedric's death, the Ministry's lies. "Because if I'm not, it'll be you on trial for obstruction. And when that time comes, I'll make sure you're carted straight out of Hogwarts and off to Azkaban, Madam Umbridge."

He took one final step, standing just inches from her now, his breath steady, his body thrumming with barely restrained power. Harry let it flare out, letting her feel it—the raw, unfiltered energy he had spent the last year trying to understand and control. The same power that came from the Peverell family magic, from his connection to Death itself.

Umbridge's face drained of all color. Her lips parted in a silent gasp as she took an instinctive step back, trembling. "M-Monster..." she whimpered, the word slipping out before she could stop it.

Harry's expression didn't change. "You create your own demons, Madam Umbridge," he whispered, his voice eerily calm. "Please, do remember that."

The pink-clad woman stumbled back, her hands shaking as she fumbled to turn and flee. But before she could scurry out the door, Harry's voice rang out once more.

"Oh, and Madam Umbridge," he called after her, his tone almost casual now, as though he were discussing the weather, "neither Susan nor I will be attending any more of your detentions. And we expect the points you took to be restored—taken from Cho Chang instead, where they belong. After all," he added with a faint smile, "you are a professor. It's your job to do the right thing, isn't it?"

Umbridge shivered, her shoulders hunched in defeat as she hurried out of the classroom, the door slamming behind her with a resounding echo.

The moment she was gone, the tension in the room broke like a dam. Harry let out a long breath, feeling the adrenaline drain from his body. His heart was still pounding, but the surge of power he had felt moments before was beginning to ebb away.

"Well," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair, "that went well."

Susan let out a nervous chuckle, glancing at him with wide eyes. "If that's your definition of going well, Harry," she said, still breathless from the confrontation, "I really don't want to be around when things go badly."

Harry smirked, shrugging slightly. "No," he said, glancing at her, "you probably don't."

Susan's expression softened as she studied him, her brow furrowing slightly. "You do realize she's going to come after you even harder now, right? Five galleons says she's on her way to report all of this to the Minister as we speak."

Harry shrugged again, his expression unreadable. "Let her," he said calmly. "It doesn't matter. I'm a registered Warlock and the Lord of the Potter family. If she's afraid of my family magic, that's on her—not me." He gave Susan a knowing look. "Besides, Pensive memories aren't admissible in court, right?"

Susan laughed, shaking her head. "That's true enough," she said. "But you're still cutting it close, Harry." She glanced at the clock, her eyes widening. "Weren't we supposed to be going to Charms?"

Harry's eyes widened in realization. "Bugger!" he exclaimed, grabbing his bag. "Flitwick's probably already started! He's definitely going to deduct points for being late."

"Well," Susan grinned, slipping her arm through his as they began walking toward the Charms classroom, "good thing you've got a prefect on your side."

Harry chuckled, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. "Point taken."

As they walked, Susan's smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful frown. She glanced sideways at him. "Hey, Harry, I've noticed you don't attend Defense Against the Dark Arts classes anymore. Is that because of this... Warlock thing?"

Harry nodded slowly, his smile fading as he considered Susan's words. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice subdued. "It's part of it."

Susan's face fell, and she went silent for a moment. Harry could sense her frustration and concern bubbling beneath the surface. She glanced around, her gaze darting nervously. "Fine. Let's just go."

Harry wasn't about to let her off the hook so easily. He'd seen the way she had stepped up to help him without hesitation, and he appreciated it. He wasn't about to ignore her troubles, especially when she seemed so on edge. "What's the matter, Susan?" he asked, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "You've been a big help today, and I want to make sure you're okay."

Susan hesitated, biting her lip nervously. "It's just… It's been three weeks since Umbridge took over DADA, and she's barely taught us anything. We just sit there reading that ridiculous book of hers. If this keeps up, I'm worried I might flunk my OWLs."

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing at her. He had just seen her cast a flawless Protego with barely a flick of her wand. "Flunk? You? I doubt it."

She blushed, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. "Alright, maybe not me, but my friends for sure. Hannah, Megan, Ernie... and there are other students from different Houses who are struggling too. Like, I was talking to Hermione, and she's practically going mad about her DADA OWLs. I thought she might have mentioned this to you."

Harry's brow furrowed. "About what?"

Susan narrowed her eyes, giving him a pointed look. "You're not messing with me, are you?"

Harry shook his head, trying to show that he was genuinely confused. "I haven't exactly been living in Gryffindor Tower, you know."

And that was the truth. He had been swamped with his own personal concerns—his studies, his training, and the added complexities of his relationships with Fleur and Daphne. His recent discovery of the Chamber of Secrets had only added to his already tight schedule. He still had Ron sitting next to him in some classes, and Daphne had begun taking up his partner spot in Potions. With all that on his plate, he had drifted a bit from Hermione.

He wasn't quite sure where the fault lay—whether it was his own busyness or Hermione's preoccupation with her studies. Either way, he could sense a growing distance.

Susan's expression softened a little, but she still looked worried. "Hermione's been losing her mind over this. I thought you'd at least know something. It's like Umbridge is deliberately sabotaging us."

Harry sighed, feeling a pang of guilt. "I guess I've been a bit out of the loop lately. I've had a lot going on, and it seems I missed some things."

Susan nodded, her eyes showing a flicker of understanding. "Yeah, I get it. It's just... we need someone to stand up to her, someone who actually knows what's going on. I thought maybe you could help rally the others, especially since you've been through so much already."

Harry considered her words. The pressure of the situation was mounting, and he could see how it was affecting not just his friends but also the entire student body. "Alright, Susan," he said with a determined nod. "I'll talk to Hermione and see what's going on. If Umbridge is making things worse, then we need to address it. We'll figure out how to support each other through this."

Susan gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Harry. I knew you'd understand."

As they began walking toward their next class, Harry couldn't help but reflect on the tangled web of his current life. The responsibilities, the relationships, and the constant fight against the rising darkness were beginning to take their toll. But seeing Susan's concern and hearing the distress in Hermione's voice had reminded him of the importance of unity and support among friends.

"Hey, Harry," Susan said, breaking into his thoughts, "do you still plan to attend the Charms class?"

"Bugger!" Harry exclaimed, glancing at the clock. "I forgot! Flitwick must have already started. I'll probably get a lecture about punctuality."

Susan grinned, nudging him playfully. "Well, lucky for you, you've got a prefect on your side."

Harry smirked, the corner of his lips curling up. "Point."

As they walked together, Susan's smile faltered slightly, replaced by a thoughtful frown. "By the way, Harry," she said cautiously, "I've noticed you haven't been to DADA classes lately. Is it because of... well, everything going on with you? The Warlock stuff?"

Harry nodded, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "Yeah," he said quietly. "It's part of it. There's a lot happening, and it's taking up more of my time than I anticipated."

Susan gave him a sympathetic look, and for a moment, they walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The weight of their conversation hung heavily between them. Harry knew the road ahead would be challenging, but with friends like Susan, he felt a glimmer of hope amidst the growing darkness.

"Why don't you tell me what's troubling you?" Harry finally asked, his voice gentle.

Susan bit her lip, her brows knitting together in frustration. "I told you. All my friends are afraid they'll flunk their OWLs. Without actually learning how to cast spells properly, we'll be sitting ducks when it matters."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Your aunt is the Director of the DMLE. Surely she can—"

"Do nothing," Susan snapped, her voice sharp and laced with irritation. It was clear this was a sensitive subject for her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "...Sorry. I've talked to Auntie, and even she can't do anything. She says Fudge isn't breaking any laws here, so her hands are tied. You remember Griselda Marchbanks?"

Harry nodded. Marchbanks had been the acting Chief Warlock at his trial—neutral, not overtly supportive or antagonistic.

"She's— was the Head of the OWL Exams Authority," Susan continued, her tone bitter. "But she got struck with Dragon Pox and had to resign. Fudge appointed Alecto Carrow in her place, and Auntie swears that woman is worse than Umbridge."

Harry frowned, taking in the gravity of Susan's words. To him, Umbridge was already worse than Voldemort in many ways. The thought of someone even worse was unsettling.

"Thing is," Susan said, "Carrow has changed the OWL syllabus to fit with Umbridge's nonsense. So, while we might technically pass our OWLs, it's like we're being set up to fail. None of us will be fit for the DMLE or the Auror forces, no matter how many Outstandings we get, because we'll have learned nothing."

They had reached the Charms classroom, but Harry barely noticed. His mind was racing, processing everything Susan had shared.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice earnest.

"Teach us," Susan said, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that was both pleading and determined. "Teach us what Umbridge won't."

Harry was taken aback. "Teach—"

"You don't have to answer right away," Susan interrupted softly. "But think about it, will you?"

With that, Susan pulled her arm out of his and walked into the classroom. Her expression was a mixture of hope and resignation. Harry watched her go, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside him.

The idea of teaching his fellow students was both daunting and compelling. He had always felt a sense of responsibility toward his friends and the magical community. But with everything else on his plate—his training, his studies, and his personal life—he wasn't sure how he would manage it.

As he stood there, lost in thought, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the challenge ahead. His own struggles seemed to pale in comparison to the broader issues his friends were facing.

He entered the classroom, his mind still on Susan's plea. The thought of standing up against Umbridge and helping his peers learn what they needed to succeed was a heavy burden. But if there was one thing Harry had learned, it was that sometimes, the greatest battles were fought not just in grand confrontations, but in the quiet moments of support and solidarity.

As he settled into his seat, he glanced over at Susan, who was already engaged in conversation with other students. Harry resolved to think about her request carefully. After all, if there was ever a time to stand together and support each other, it was now.

And as he prepared for Charms class, he knew that whatever decision he made, it would be one that he couldn't take lightly. The fight against the darkness was not just a matter of confronting enemies; it was also about empowering those around him to face their own challenges.

Harry settled into his seat as Flitwick began the lesson. Despite his best efforts to focus, his mind kept drifting back to Susan's plea. The pressure of the situation weighed heavily on him. He glanced at Susan, who was diligently taking notes, her expression a mix of concentration and concern.

Flitwick, with his usual enthusiasm, launched into an intricate explanation of advanced levitation techniques. The charms professor's energy was a stark contrast to the dreary atmosphere that had settled over the school. Harry admired Flitwick's dedication, but he couldn't shake the sense of urgency about Susan's situation.

As the lesson progressed, Harry tried to immerse himself in the task at hand, practicing the charm with precision. He managed to keep his mind from wandering too much, but the thought of potentially taking on the responsibility of teaching his peers was never far from his thoughts.

The class ended, and Harry gathered his things, trying to decide what to do next. As he walked out, he spotted Hermione and Ron waiting for him by the door. Hermione's face was creased with worry, and Ron's usual carefree demeanor was noticeably subdued.

"Harry!" Hermione called out as he approached. "We need to talk."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

Hermione glanced around, ensuring they weren't overheard. "It's about the DADA classes. Susan mentioned something that I think you should know. Umbridge's teaching—or rather, her lack of it—is affecting all of us."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Susan told me about it. She also asked if I would consider teaching some of the practical skills that Umbridge isn't covering."

Ron's eyes widened. "Teaching? That's a big ask, Harry."

Hermione looked at him seriously. "It's not just about teaching, though. It's about making sure we're all prepared. We're not just talking about OWLs here. If something happens, we need to be ready."

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know. It's just... there's so much going on. My training, my studies, and everything else. I'm not sure how I'd manage it."

Hermione's gaze softened with understanding. "I get that. But maybe if we all pitch in, it won't be as overwhelming. You don't have to do it alone."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah, if it's really that bad, we should help each other out. It's not just about us; it's about everyone who's struggling."

Harry considered their words. He knew they were right. The responsibility of preparing his peers was daunting, but it wasn't something he could ignore. The sense of solidarity and the need to act against the incompetence and malevolence of Umbridge was growing stronger.

"Alright," Harry said finally, his voice resolute. "I'll think about it. But I'll need to figure out a plan—how to balance it with everything else and how to make it work for everyone."

Hermione smiled, relief evident on her face. "Thank you, Harry. I know it's a lot to ask, but it means a lot to us."

Ron clapped Harry on the back. "And if you need any help, just let us know. We're in this together."

They began walking towards their next class, and Harry felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but with the support of his friends, he felt more confident about tackling the challenge ahead.

As he walked, he couldn't help but think about the larger battle they were all facing. The struggle against Umbridge and her misguided methods was just one part of it. The looming threat of Voldemort and the darkness spreading through the wizarding world made their efforts even more critical.

Determined to make a difference, Harry resolved to take Susan's request seriously. He would need to find a way to balance his responsibilities while also helping his peers. It was a heavy burden, but it was one he was willing to shoulder if it meant standing up for what was right.

And as he entered the classroom, ready to face whatever challenges awaited, Harry felt a renewed sense of hope. In the midst of the darkness, the strength of friendship and the willingness to stand up for one another were beacons of light, guiding them through the trials to come.

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