The Toad's Gambit
A/N
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This Chapter is dedicated to Bryan Davis. Thank you for your support, it is truly appreciated x
Dolores Umbridge Named Hogwarts High-Inquisitor
By Barnabus Cuffe
In what some may deem a rather bold and unprecedented move, Dolores Jane Umbridge, once the Senior Undersecretary to Cornelius Fudge and now the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has been elevated to the position of High-Inquisitor after only a week of teaching.
Now, you may be wondering just what such a lofty position will entail and I spoke to the Minister himself to learn just that. As the one who championed the idea, he had this to say;
" It is no secret that standards at Hogwarts have been slipping these past years and I felt that it was my duty intervene. We trust the school to educate our children to the highest possible standard, and currently, they are failing to do so. Thus, I felt it prudent to take certain measures to raise attainment, to ensure our children are educated to an exceptional degree and we are producing the very best the wizarding world has to offer."
Such a thing has never been implemented. For centuries, Hogwarts has stood as a single entity without what many would consider interference from the Ministry of Magic. Though the bill put forward by our Minister was passed by the Wizengamot, it was far from unanimous with only slightly more than half agreeing to the measure.
Lord Boot, whose son attends Hogwarts, had this to say.
" I have no idea what the Minister is playing at. My son has only the highest praise for the staff he is under the tutelage of and this makes no sense. To me, this is nothing more than a continuation of the smear campaign against Albus Dumbledore we have seen over the summer months. I do not believe Dumbledore would let the standards of the school slip and I do not support the Ministry intervention."
When confronted with the view of Lord Boot and many of his peers, the Minister had this to say.
" It may appear that we are attempting to exert our will over the school, but that is not the case," he denied firmly. "Our only wish is that the children are being educated sufficiently."
When pressed as to what the role Madame Umbridge has obtained will require, Minister Fudge elaborated.
" Madame Umbridge will primarily carry out inspections on her colleagues to ensure the teaching standard is acceptable. All her findings will be submitted to myself and the Head of the Magical Education Department for review before any necessary action is taken. Along with this, she will be given powers to stage intervention where standards are not met and act accordingly to ensure changes are made. This should not be viewed an imposition, but as progress and an opportunity for betterment."
It remains to be seen what the impact of the role will have, but it is already proving to be quite controversial with the Wizengamot seemingly torn on the matter.
The powers granted to Madame Umbridge will come into effect this very morning and Wizarding Britain will wait for further news with bated breath.
Harry discarded the paper with disgust. He wouldn't trust Umbridge to inspect the contents of a toilet, let alone other, much more competent Professors than herself. Whatever was happening, he did not like it. Umbridge was an odious woman who undoubtedly had an ulterior motive.
Where the idea came from, he couldn't be certain, but it was not from the Minister. The man was too much of a fool to concoct this himself but Umbridge was not. She was an unpleasant creature but had some innerworkings, something she had proven during his trial, though she certainly was not as clever as she believed. She had too little control over her temper and he had no doubt that she would be exposed as incompetent before long.
Not that he need concern himself with whatever the woman was up to. He was not attending classes in the traditional sense and would have no reason to encounter her.
As agreed upon with Flitwick and McGonagall, he was self-studying in preparation for the remainder of his NEWTS with much of his focus on his apprenticeships. They of course required much attention, though he was not neglecting the former. If anything, he was working herder than he ever had so that he did not fall short of the grades expected of himself and his mentors.
He did have to meet with Snape once a week to be observed and instructed in his brewing, but the other professors were seemingly content with his methods in their subjects, asking only that he keeps them informed with what he was covering and occasionally requesting a demonstration from him in theory or practical work.
For the life of him, he could not understand what Fudge was thinking involving himself with the school. From what he had seen, each professor he had encountered were more than capable of teaching and Umbridge did not seem to be qualified to assess them. She didn't seem to be qualified for much if the whisperings about her lessons he had heard held truth.
With a shake of his head, he thanked the elves for his breakfast and headed to the Great Hall to submit some charms work to Flitwick. It wasn't due until Wednesday, but he had finished it and was keen to be rid of the headache-inducing assignment.
Charms theory was difficult, but he found that he enjoyed the complexity of the branch. It pushed him further than he had been pushed before and he was relishing it. Even having been left with a pounding head and no longer wishing to ponder this particular piece of work, he had thrived under the challenge.
He frowned as he arrived to a packed Entrance Hall, the students having risen for breakfast seemingly being intercepted by an unusually jubilant Argus Filch who wore a smile that did not suit his cantankerous demeanour.
"She's going to make changes around here. No longer will you little brats get away with whatever you want," he announced gleefully as he shoved is way through the crowd with Mrs Norris in tow.
The students fell silent for a moment as they read the framed notice he had nailed to the wall.
"Educational decree?"
"High Inquisitor?"
Harry worked his way to the front of the ensemble and snorted as he read Umbridge's first declaration of power.
Educational Decree Number One
Defence Against the Dark Arts classes are now compulsory for ALL students from first through fifth year.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge
High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"Defence is already mandatory until sixth year," Hermione pointed out from close by.
Harry grinned at the unsubtle shrewdness of Umbridge. For reasons only known to her, she wanted him in her class, and he was only happy to oblige.
Tom would advise caution were he still here, but Harry had no such intention to play the asinine games of the woman. Since she was taking such an interest in him personally, he would return the favour.
To him, caution was reserved for those that posed a threat to him. Umbridge and the Ministry were no such thing. There was little they could do to destabilise his life other than throw him into Azkaban and he would certainly not allow that to happen. They could expel him, but again, that would be little inconvenience to him. He didn't have to be a student at the school to apprentice under Flitwick and McGonagall. It was their prerogative to whom they would tutor outside of class hours and that was not something the Ministry could not interfere with.
No, Dolores Umbridge may believe that she had gained a victory of sorts with her actions, but he would have the last laugh. He would take pleasure in driving the woman insane.
She had all but asked for it, after all.
(Break)
"Mark my words, Albus, this will end badly."
Dumbledore nodded his agreement.
He had done all he could to keep Harry and Dolores separated. She, however, had different ideas and had acted accordingly to nullify his efforts. To her credit, she had orchestrated the start of her coup expertly, using the situation she found herself into her advantage in obtaining her new position.
Very few could truly object to the betterment of education, as shown by the majority of the Wizengamot.
"There is little I can do, Minerva," he sighed. "If I were to oppose her appointment, it would only add credence to what they have been claiming. Worry not, I'm sure Harry can manage her company for a few short periods a week."
"I only worry for his future, Albus, not dealing with that woman. He will eat her alive if she attempts to make his life anymore difficult than it already is."
Dumbledore hummed as he nodded, his beard twitching in amusement. He was not one to take joy from the misery of others, but Dolores was proving herself to be rather irksome and he found it difficult to have any sympathy for her.
It would be to her own detriment that she had learnt nothing from her previous encounter with Harry. He did not hold the same respect for the Ministry as her, nor did he seem to care for her either. Why would he? She had been but a secretary when they had met.
"That is what you're hoping for," Minerva said in disbelief.
"I would wish no such thing upon any, however, it is out of my hands. I am sure Mr Potter will treat Madame Umbridge with the utmost respect her position deserves. She is a Professor, after all."
"We both know that is not going to happen. I will not have her provoke him."
"Minerva, Harry must learn to temper himself. I can think of no better opportunity for him to do so. If I believe it is getting out of hand, I will intervene."
Minerva pursed her lips.
She would enjoy nothing more than to see the woman attempt whatever she planned against the boy. If she thought the dressing down she received in the Wizengamot had been unpleasant, she had seen nothing yet. Harry Potter was not one to do things in half measures and that was what concerned her.
How far would he go to ensure she no longer bothered him in her petty way?
(Break)
He pushed the thoughts of Dolores Umbridge aside, his undertaking of the evening requiring focus. Although he knew where to find and how to retrieve the horcrux, the task would not be a pleasant one. Nothing involving Voldemort would ever be a pleasurable experience in his estimation. The monster that had been born from his mentor was not one to take lightly and everything he did was done with malice. Even the protections placed were none too kind, even for the most exceptional of wizards.
Very few would survive an encounter with them, and though he had the needed knowledge, he was nervous. If a single mistake was made, it would mean the end for him.
First, however, there was a conversation to be had with a certain veela who would be displeased by the development the day had brought. She had only been placated with knowing Harry would have little reason to be around Umbridge. Now, she would be very unhappy that the woman had all but forced his attendance to her classes.
With a sigh, he tapped his orb with the tip of his wand and waited for her to answer.
Her face swam into view only a moment later, eliciting a stab of longing within him.
It was an odd feeling. Never had het met any he had missed when he was not around them, and since their excursion to his home where he had explained the presence of Tom, it had only become deeper.
She had not judged him, had not chastised him for the seemingly foolish actions of a seven-year-old. She had tried to comfort him, had accepted that part of him, something that meant more than ever thought it would. Not that he had much considered telling any of his inner mentor. With Fleur, it had simply happened, and he felt all the better for it.
If she could accept that, there was little that would turn her away. For the first time in his life, he almost felt as though he had met someone that understood him somewhat, someone that had shared part of his journey with him and wanted to still, despite the peril involved.
Her face lit up in a bright smile as she gazed upon him.
"Is it silly that you only left yesterday, and I want you back?" she asked.
He returned the gesture, feeling the weight bearing down on him lift.
"No, it's not silly."
Her smile faded, turning into a frown.
"What is wrong 'Arry?"
"Umbridge is doing everything she can to make sure I have to spend time with her. She has somehow made it mandatory for me to attend her lessons, well, the Wizengamot have given her power to do what she sees fit to raise the standard of education."
Fleur huffed irritably, her nostrils flaring. Harry had learnt that veela were protective creatures. It was still something foreign to him; that feeling of having someone who cared enough to share his problems.
"What will you do?"
"I'm not going to take any crap from her," Harry answered. "If she wants to have me in her lessons, she will get the best of me she can hope for."
Fleur shook her head in amusement, knowing what that side of Harry could be like.
"Why do you stay there, 'Arry? You could apply to do your exams 'ere. There is no reason for you to be there always."
Harry nodded.
"I know, but Hogwarts was the first place that felt like a home," he replied quietly. "She is invading it and I can't let her."
She offered him a sad smile.
"So, you will get rid of 'er?"
He shrugged.
"How things are, I don't think anything short of killing her will work. As much as I don't care for her, she's not worth it, but I can make her life hell."
Fleur sighed.
"Why do I 'ave a feeling that you are going to be in trouble?"
"Because I probably will."
She giggled.
"Well, you do what you 'ave to, 'Arry. I do not want to see you upset. I do not like it."
He nodded.
He didn't need permission to do what he would, but it was nice having her support.
"I will," he assured her.
"Good, now, 'ow 'as the rest of your day been?"
"Busy," he chuckled. "McGonagall wants me to write a thesis on the Animagus transformation process."
"That sounds…fun."
Harry snorted.
"It will take me up until Christmas before I'm even ready to begin writing it. There are so many theories and methods I need to analyse."
"She is really pushing you, non?"
"She always has," he replied with a shrug.
"Is that not something you are interested in? Being an Animagus?"
He frowned at the thought. It had crossed his mind over the years and would be a challenge.
"Maybe," he answered. "My father was one. He managed it when he was the same age as me."
Fleur's eyes widened at the revelation.
"That is very impressive, 'Arry. 'E must 'ave been excellent at transfiguration."
"He was," Harry agreed. "I'll have to think about it once I've finished my latest assignment and decide if it is worth it. I wouldn't want to go to much effort just to be a bloody goldfish or something like that. You'd probably pluck me out of the pond and eat me."
She laughed and nodded.
"It is possible, or you could be a large cat and try to eat me."
He grinned at the thought of a large bird that could throw fire and a cat squaring off. It was amusing, though not something he wished for. He had no desire to experience the heat of her fire again.
"I'm going to retrieve another one tonight," he said, changing the subject.
Her face fell, knowing immediately what he was referring to.
"Is this one dangerous?"
"It could be. I don't know if he has been there to check on it and add any protections. Even if he hasn't, I doubt I will enjoy the experience."
Se shook her head unhappily.
"Then let me come with you, 'Arry. Please, I do not like the thought of you doing something like this without 'elp."
"There's not much you can do…"
"Then I will do what I can," she said stubbornly.
Harry released a deep breath as he nodded.
"Okay," he agreed, "but you have to listen to me. If I tell you to do something, I need you to do it. These things are dangerous, and that is without the protections around them."
"I know, 'Arry. I just want to be there for you, oui?"
He offered her a grateful smile.
The burden of what was to come was not one easily carried. Even her presence would be a welcome reprieve from some of it.
"I will come and get you. Just give me ten minutes."
She nodded and he ended the call before gathering anything he could think of he might need. He was dreading being at the mercy of Voldemort's work, but a small part of him was relishing the task, a small part of him he had never been able to curb.
Perhaps there was something about him that enjoyed risk? His father had been the same way. Maybe there was more of his parents in him than he believed, something he had not focused on much with Tom guiding him.
Risk was not a trait of his mentor. Tom was pragmatic and logical, not one to delve into the unknown without certainty, though his certainty had cost him dearly in his formative years, thus, Harry had a Dark Lord vying for his blood.
He shook his head of the thought.
Before the night was out, he would be one step closer to putting an end to him, of that, he was certain.
(Break)
Fleur hurriedly tied her hair into a ponytail before dressing in warm clothes. She would never forget the cold British weather, though that was the least of her concerns for this evening.
Immediately, she felt out of her depth. She knew not what she and Harry would face and that did not sit well with her. However, she took comfort in the knowledge that Harry did know, if of course, nothing had been disturbed. There was always the chance that someone as unpredictable as Voldemort could have altered the problem they would be facing.
Still, she would rather be there with Harry than waiting for a call that may one day never come. That was not a prospect she ever wished to face, but one that haunted her daily.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she took her leave from the house. Her parents would be sleeping at this late hour and she saw no reason to disturb them. They would unlikely be happy with what she was doing, but they would understand.
With that I mind, she made her way across the expansive grounds and arrived at the ward-line only a moment before Harry.
Immediately, she closed the distance between the two and wrapped her arms around him, still marvelling at the resilience he had shown throughout his short life.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.
She nodded against his chest. She never would have believed that beneath his somewhat prickly outer, there was someone as caring. She would not have been able to blame him if there wasn't. With the upbringing he had experienced, such a thing was not something he had learned from his relatives.
"Let's get this over with then."
(Break)
It was hard to imagine the dilapidated shack they found themselves looking upon had once been the home of one of the most stalwart pureblood families, so stalwart, that they had faded almost into nothingness, their final years spent impoverished and inbred.
The Gaunts were an example of the foolishness of the pureblood doctrine that Voldemort was spewing. Were he to be successful in his endeavours, this would likely be the fate of many families.
They could perhaps thrive for several generations to come, but eventually, when the blood mixed enough, squibs would be born. He couldn't fathom how they did not understand that. So deep had they immersed themselves in the belief that they were superior.
He shook his head at the thought. People could really be dense when facts did not tie in with their narrative.
"What is this place?" Fleur questioned.
"This is the family home of the Gaunts. They're all dead now."
"The Gaunts?"
Harry nodded.
"Voldemort's mother was a Gaunt and his father lived in the manor on the hill. That was also where we were taken the night of the third task."
She shivered as her gaze shifted towards the enormous house.
"But that is a muggle 'ome!"
"So, you see the irony?"
"'E is a half-blood?"
"He is. Not that he wants to admit it to anyone, nor would it make any difference. He is a descendant from Slytherin himself. That would mean more to the idiots that fall to their knees before him than the other blood that runs through his veins."
Fleur merely shook her head. The wars in Britain made little sense to her. All that did concern her was that Harry would emerge on the other side, intact and able to live his life without being plagued by Dark Lord's and other unpleasant people, though many of them would remain even when Voldemort was gone. To her, she could see no reason why any would want to live in such a prejudice society. France was by no means perfect, but the problem was not the same as it was here.
"Are you sure it is in there?"
"It's there," he replied nervously. "Can you not feel it?"
She shook her head. She could feel nothing other than the chill in the September air.
"What do we have to do to get in?"
"For me, getting in is not the problem," he answered as he drew his wand. "It's what could be inside that worries me."
Fleur watched as he waved his wand in intricate patterns and hissed gently. There was something unnerving about the language of the snakes and more so the overwhelming of dread she felt as an illuminous green dome formed over the shack. She had been truthful when she had said she felt nothing only a moment prior. Now, however, with the wards in view, a deep sense of hopelessness and despair filled her.
"What is that?" she whispered as the dome faded and the feeling remained.
Harry sighed almost sadly.
"That is the feeling of a broken, tortured and malicious soul."
Fleur looked between the shack and the boy who was seemingly unaffected by what was in the air.
"It is 'orrible."
He nodded as he began heading towards the door which was adorned by a large snake that had been nailed to it.
"Do not touch anything inside. What we are here for has a very powerful compulsion charm and rotting curse imbued within it. Even if it brushes against your skin, it will kill you. There is no cure."
She could only nod nervously, doing her best to ignore the dread that only strengthened the closer they had come.
The inside of the home had fared no better than the outer. The furniture, walls and ceilings had decayed from the absence of people to maintain it. Not that she could imagine any wanting to live here. Even without whatever had been left, the house was neither warm nor welcoming.
"His mother lived 'ere?"
"Merope Gaunt. She fell in love with his father and used potions to ensnare him," Harry explained, his eyes closed as he felt for anything unexpected. "When she stopped giving them to him, she was already pregnant, and he left her. She died giving birth to Tom."
"What 'appened to 'im?"
"He grew up in a muggle orphanage, believing both his parents were dead. He didn't have a happy childhood and it only got worse when he went to Hogwarts. Even then, being a half-blood with a muggle name in Slytherin was not good. Tom slowly became what he is now, his ambitions growing the more embittered he became. He said himself, becoming Voldemort was never the intention, but it happened. He made mistakes and lost himself down a very dangerous rabbit hole. I'm not making excuses for him but if he had someone to turn to, it may never have happened."
Fleur could only nod. She would not pretend she could understand such a thing, but Harry could. The story of Tom was eerily reminiscent of the boy stood next to her in some ways, though Harry had not become him.
She maintained her silence as he set to work, casting spell after spell before stilling, his eyes closed once more as he levitated a floorboard away from where it had been fixed to the others.
"This is where it gets dangerous," he muttered. "I'm going to put a shield around you to negate the effects of the compulsion."
Even before she could answer, he had waved his wand in a pattern she did not recognise and a yellow bubble that pulsed with his own magic formed around her.
Still, she had a very strong urge to reach out and put on the ring that emerged from the hole, so much so that she felt the avian side within her stirring in protest at the influx of encouraging magic.
Much to her relief, it vanished as a burst of unbearable heat filled the room and an agonising scream rent the air. For a harrowing second, she had believed it had come from Harry, but when she opened her eyes, there he stood, unharmed.
"Is it gone?" she asked.
She saw the bobbing of his throat as he nodded, his eyes focused on a small pile of ash that was all that remained of the ring. The shield around her collapsed and the smell of burning invaded her senses, though the less welcome feeling of dread had thankfully vanished.
"Are you okay?" she asked, approaching him.
"It's hard," he mumbled. "I sometimes wonder if what I'm destroying is part of Tom or if it is Voldemort in there. I know it probably sounds insane, but there's very little difference in how they felt."
"Tom felt like that?"
Harry frowned thoughtfully.
"He did, but I suppose that all I ever knew was that feeling, it didn't bother me. It wasn't until he was gone that I realised how malignant the magic was even if that part of him wasn't. I'll never understand what happened to him being part of me or me him. Did I make him a better person, or did he make me a worse one?"
"Does it matter? Whatever 'appened made you who you are, 'Arry," Fleur responded. "You do not feel like that. You are not cruel, and you do not want to murder people, do you?"
"Only those that have wronged me," he answered honestly, "and I can be cruel. There are people I have met that I could hurt and enjoy it. Does that make me like him?"
Fleur shook her head.
"Non, 'Arry, it does not. You only wish to 'urt those that 'ave done the same to you. Do you wish to 'urt anyone for no reason other than you would enjoy it?"
He frowned as he shook his head.
"No."
"And that is what makes you different," she assured him.
"No, I'm not so different. If I didn't have Tom, I could have turned out just like him. Maybe I still could."
"You will not, 'Arry!"
"How do you know?"
She took hold of one of his hands, his uncertainty causing her heart to sink.
"Because that is not who you are 'Arry. The 'Arry I know is the one I see in France, the one who 'elps Gabby build sandcastles, who 'elps my mother put out the plates for dinner and the one who smiles at me like I am the most important thing in the world. You are like 'im in some ways, but you are so different. You are kind and sweet also."
"Is that enough?"
She nodded.
"If you want it to be."
He smiled; his worries assuaged for the time being.
"Sorry, I just get confused when I feel those things near me. It's so familiar and hard to ignore how much better I felt having Tom with me. Sometimes, I feel empty without him, like I will fail without him."
"Well, you 'ave me now, 'Arry. I will make you feel better and fill that emptiness with whatever it is you need."
Harry released a deep breath as he pulled her into his arms.
At times, he did feel as though the absence of Tom was an absence of part of himself. He was very much aware that he was on a journey to discover just who he was without the presence of the other, though the absence was not without something to fill it.
"We should probably get you home," he whispered.
She nodded against his chest, yet held tighter to him, and remained there as he activated the portkey.
(Break)
It was only the second week into the school year, and yet, she already found herself longing for the ease that the summer brought. She loved Hogwarts, loved the challenges that the study of magic brought, but this year was proving to be different. The workload had doubled in all her subjects, there were whispers of the return of the most feared Dark Lord in recent history, and then, there was Dolores Umbridge.
Hermione prided herself on her ability to cope with subjects that most could not. Defence Against the Dark Arts had quickly become one of those and even she was struggling. Worse yet, it was her OWL year, and much could hinge on her success in the class. With it being a core subject, a failure or poor grade could have a detrimental effect on the careers she could pursue when she had finished at the castle. All because of one incompetent and intolerable woman.
"Are you sure about this?" Neville asked.
She nodded as she finished her last mouthful of porridge.
"If we don't do something, we will fail."
The blonde nodded his understanding. He found the class difficult when they had an able professor. Under Umbridge's tutelage, there was no chance for him to receive a passing grade.
"Alright, I'll have a word with Dean and the others and see if they're up for it. You'll have to speak to Lavender and Parvati."
"What about the rest of the students? I think we should get as many people as we can involved. If we get some of the seventh years, they'll be able to help us. Fred and George will do it."
"Merlin, you must be desperate if you want to learn from the Weasley twins," Neville muttered.
"They know their stuff. I'll speak to Ron about it. We have our prefect duty tonight."
Neville nodded.
"We will need to get everyone interested to meet up."
Hermione bit her bottom lip thoughtfully.
"It's a Hogsmeade weekend," she pointed out. "We can get everyone to meet somewhere there."
"That could work," Neville replied. "You'll have to get the word out. You see more people than me."
"I will, but I think we should leave the Slytherin's out. We can't trust Malfoy or Parkinson. They will do whatever they can to get any of us in trouble."
Neville frowned.
"Malfoy's been quiet this year. Usually by now he's terrorising the first years and making an arse of himself."
"I think after he tried to threaten Harry, he learnt something," Hermione returned with a shrug.
"He did what?"
"I thought you would have heard by now. He tried to throw his weight around on the train with Harry and it didn't work. He cast some spells around them and said something. I don't know what, but Malfoy was scared. Harry headbutted him and left on the floor."
Neville was awestruck by what he heard but snapped out of it with a drawn-out whistle.
"Bloody hell, I wish I could have seen that. The git has had it coming."
Hermione shook her head.
"Anyway, we should probably be going. We don't want to be late again."
Neville groaned as he stood and the duo exited the Great Hall along with other students they shared the class with, all dragging their feet so they would arrive not a second before they needed to be there.
It was clear than none enjoyed the classes. If they were reading something useful, it may perhaps be somewhat bearable. Alas, they were subjected to the ramblings of Wilbert Slinkhard, a man who seemingly had as much experience as their current Professor.
Hermione had read it over the summer and had thought it a work they would be critically analysing. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine it would be the core text for the year and be expected to take his word as gospel.
She was no expert in defence, but even she knew that any approaches to the art the man offered would be folly and likely get one killed if they chose to implement them in any situation that called for self-defence.
Still, she took the smallest glimmer of comfort she could that today was only a single lesson. The double on Friday she would worry about when the day arrived.
The three hours a week they spent with the woman were the worst imaginable. When they were not reading in silence, the woman spent the time praising the Ministry, the Minister and the work he was doing to ensure they were educated correctly.
If what they were experiencing was what the Ministry deemed fit, she wanted no part of it.
"It looks like my new favourite person has decided to show up," Neville whispered, pulling her from her thoughts.
She looked up to see Harry Potter leaned up against the wall, his head shaking as he perused his own copy of Slinkhard's work. He had not been in their first lessons the previous week, so why was he here now?
Her eyes widened in realisation as Educational Decree number one came to the forefront of her mind. Had Umbridge put that ridiculous rule in place just to get him here? If so, then why?
According to Neville, he already had his OWL. There was no need for him to attend this class. There must be something else afoot.
"Hello, Harry," she greeted him as they approached.
He nodded as he huffed and placed the book back in his bag.
"Is she really making you read that crap?"
Neville snorted.
"You've got an hour of that to look forward to."
Harry grimaced and entered the classroom. He took a seat at the back, away from the rest of the students and they took theirs in the middle, thankfully having forgone taking seats at the front where she would usually insist on sitting.
Only a moment after the class had settled, Umbridge entered the room clad in her customary pink cardigan complete with a pink bow in her hair. Today, she somehow stood taller than what her squat frame should allow as she stood at the front of the room.
"Hem hem. Good morning class."
"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," they parroted, though much less cheerily than the woman.
"You will turn to page thirty-four and read, in silence."
With an audible groan, the students removed the copy of their books and began the arduous task of absorbing the information provided by Wilbert Slinkhard.
It could only have been two minutes into the lesson when Umbridge cleared her throat once more, garnering the attention of the room.
"Mr Potter, do you believe yourself above your peers?"
Hermione looked up to see Harry reading, but it was not the required text.
"Not at all, Professor," he answered.
"Then why are you not reading the correct book? Are you so lacking that you cannot follow a simple instruction?"
Hermione gasped as the rest of the students looked on.
"I am only following your own advice, Professor," Harry returned. "You are quite firm that the Ministry is never wrong, and I am trying to live by that example."
Umbridge narrowed her eyes at the boy.
"You are disobeying my order."
"Because you no longer work for the Ministry," Harry replied with a shrug. "As of last week, you are employed by Hogwarts. I am simply following the example of current Ministry employees who are not very flattering towards Mr Slinkhard's work."
Umbridge frowned, evidently confused.
"What on earth do you mean, Potter?"
"Well, to quote Gawain Robards, the current Head of the Auror department; 'Wilbert Slinkhard's work is only fit for wiping your backside with if caught short'.
"Excuse me?" the woman all but shrieked as the class broke into fits of laughter.
"His words, Professor, not mine."
"How dare you? I will…"
Harry broke her off with a deep sigh.
"Is it the Ministry I am supposed to listen to or yourself?"
"In this classroom, you will listen to me. We are one and the same!"
Harry shook his head at the woman.
"In this case, I think I will listen to an expert in the field. A fine example of a defence practitioner and valued member of the auror force. I think his expertise outweighs your own, Professor. Unless the Ministry made a terrible mistake in employing him in the first place, I don't think he only achieved a D in his defence OWL. No, that was you, wasn't it?"
Umbridge reddened and trembled with rage as she stared at the boy who remained composed in his seat.
"That will be a detention, Mr Potter. Never have I experienced such rudeness from a student."
"That's because you've only been a teacher for just over a week, a job you're not qualified for, might I add. I'm sure the worst is yet to come."
The class watched the back and forth between the two in a mixture of nervousness and amusement.
"You will be in my office at eight o'clock this evening. Do not be late."
"That is something you will have to take up with Professor McGonagall," Harry returned with a shrug. "I will be with her then."
"You will be here or so help me I will…"
"You will what, exactly?" Harry questioned as he stood his eyes boring into her own.
To Hermione, any amusement she felt vanished the moment he did so, and the mood of the other students shifted also.
Umbridge faltered under his stare, her eyes widening in surprise. She shook herself from her stupor a moment later.
"Sit down, Potter. I will be discussing your conduct with the headmaster. The rest of you, get on with your reading."
With that, she pointedly ignored Harry for the rest of the lesson, and he took his leave immediately as they were dismissed from the room.
"Bloody hell, I thought that was going to turn ugly," Neville muttered.
Hermione nodded.
"Do you think we should ask him to help us? I mean, he does already have his OWL?"
Neville shrugged.
"You can ask him if you want. I've never even spoken to him."
Hermione nodded. He would be a very useful person to have on board. The fact that he seemed to already despise Umbridge would only help her in convincing him.
(Break)
True to her word, Umbridge had taken up her grievances with the headmaster, who in turn had brought it to the attention of Professor McGonagall. The transfiguration mistress had been far from impressed with him, but her chastisement had lacked sincerity. In essence, she had told him to be careful but had not outright condemned his actions, something he found to be rather amusing.
However, she had informed him that he would have to complete a detention with the woman and warned him to do so without further incident.
He had made no promises. Umbridge would cross him at her own peril and he would not deviate from his rebuttal.
He gently petted and hissed to one of his snakes that had coiled itself around his arm. This one had grown considerably in the months that it had come into his ownership, and judging by the prominent bulge in its' stomach, had fed again very recently.
" You are getting bigger."
" There are lots of juice rats in the dungeons."
Harry chuckled as his attention was brought to the orb he kept next to his bed. He had finished later than usual this evening and thought that Fleur would already be asleep at the late hour. Evidently, she had merely missed his call.
"Sorry, 'Arry, I was catching up on some reading Madame Alerie gave me."
He waved off her apology. He understood the amount of reading that was required for charms.
"How're you finding it so far?"
It was only her first day of study, but even his own had been rather overwhelming from the get-go. Fleur, however, was positively beaming.
"It was so much fun. I'm going to enjoy it."
He smiled at her enthusiasm. He had a similar love of charms, could sense the familiar excitement being exuded by the girl.
"I'm glad," he offered.
"And 'ow was your first lesson with Madame Umbridge?"
Harry sighed as he shook his head.
"I'll be keeping a close eye on her."
Fleur frowned questioningly.
"I saw something in her today, more than I thought there was to her. I knew she was loyal to Fudge but it's worse than that."
It had been but a glimmer of her true nature, a glint of something he had known well as a child. He had become something of an expert in spotting those who housed spite and vindictiveness and those that would act upon such. Dolores Umbridge was one of those people, though he knew not what bounds were held, if any.
It concerned him, not for himself so much. Were she to try such tact with him, he would feel no guilt in exacting upon her what she would to others. No, it was what she could do to the other students here that concerned him, those too afraid to speak up, those who could not fight back.
"What do you mean, 'Arry?"
"There's a viciousness about her. If she thinks she can get away with it, there's very little she wouldn't do to get what she wants."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to keep a very close eye on her and see what she does. Oh, and I will be late on Friday. I have a detention with her."
"And how did you get that?" she asked amusedly.
"I only pointed out that she's contradicting herself and that she's not qualified to teach the subject," he answered with a shrug.
Fleur sighed as she shook her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"I suppose you did it in your own charming way?"
"Well, if she thinks that was charming, she hasn't seen anything yet."
Fleur giggled.
"Hmm, maybe it is you that 'as a little spite and vindictiveness, non?"
"Only to those that deserve it."
"I know, 'Arry, just be careful."
"It's her that needs to watch her step. I'll make sure that even Fudge can't dig her out of the hole she finds herself in she doesn't."
Fleur could only nod.
He meant what he said. Harry was not one to make idle threats, he lacked the subtlety for that. It was one of things she admired about him. He was very much like her father in that way, though now he was older, he had a much cooler head.
"Anyway, I will be with you by seven, no matter what she says."
"Good. It will be me she 'as to deal with if you are late."
He chuckled. He wouldn't want to be Umbridge if she somehow got on the wrong side of Fleur.
" I will speak to you tomorrow."
" We still need to work on your pronunciation, 'Arry," she replied with a grin. "I will speak to you tomorrow."
He narrowed his eyes at her as she ended the call and he placed the orb back on his bedside table.
He frowned in thought as he petted the snake that was contentedly still wrapped around his arm.
" I need you to watch the woman in pink, she could be a danger to us."
" Would you like me to bite her?"
" No," Harry replied with a laugh, "Just watch her for now. Find another to help you. It is a very important job."
The snake merely hissed as it uncoiled itself and Harry let it out of the room to carry out the task it had been given.
There was something off about Umbridge and he was determined to curb her influence within the school. People like her had no business being around children.
(Break)
She had risen with the sun, having had an uneasy night sleep. She was worried for Harry, worried about those that would do him harm and worried that his attention was focused on so many things that he would miss when one tried to act against him.
As such, she had slept little, had restlessly pondered a plethora of scenarios where an unseen enemy would take advantage of any lapse.
She hated him being in Britain, hated him being there alone where she was not at hand to help him where she was needed.
She understood his own need to be there for the time being and maybe he would leave when his NEWTS where finished, but that was months away. Anything could happen in the interim.
" Good morning, my little flower," her father greeted as she entered the kitchen.
It was early yet, and Gabrielle and her mother were not yet awake. Sebastien had been going to the office earlier this past week and returning later than usual. He was a busy man for the most part, just seemingly busier recently.
" Are you working early again?" she asked as she took her seat and helped herself to some fruit.
He nodded as he took a sip of his coffee.
" There is much happening, but that doesn't mean I don't notice when you sneak out late at night."
" Sorry, papa. 'Arry needed my help…"
" I figured as much," he said dismissively. "Just, be careful, Fleur. I trust you to not do anything foolish and I know he would not put you in danger but that does not stop me worrying."
" I know," she sighed.
Sebastien offered her a warm smile as he shook his head. He knew there was little he could do to prevent her going to him if he asks. Not that he would try.
" How was your first day with Madame Alerie?"
The girl brightened immediately, and he found himself longing for the days where so much wasn't hanging over her and the boy who was stubborn to a fault.
" I loved it, papa. I'm going to really enjoy studying under her."
Sebastien smiled at her eagerness. He was pleased she had found something she was passionate about.
" Speaking of which, isn't it almost time you left?" he questioned, nodding towards the clock.
Fleur's eyes widened as she took note of the time.
" Merde, I will be late," she cursed as she shot to her feet and all but ran from the house, the sound of her father laughing trailing behind her.
She apparated as closely to Beauxbatons as she could the moment she crossed the ward lines around the house. With only a minute to spare, she reached the office of her mentor, her chest heaving from the exertion of being on time.
" Come in, Miss Delacour," the woman bid as she knocked.
She entered to find the professor poring over a stack of parchment, her head shaking as she wrote corrections on the work in front of her.
She was a younger woman, a brunette with brown eyes that positively sparkled when she was talking about her chosen subject. Fleur liked her. She was rather fun and had never expressed any distaste towards her because of what she was.
" I should not say this as a Professor, but I do wish at least half the students here showed half the effort you did," she mumbled as she pushed the stack of parchment to one side. "Now, there is much work to be done, but we must first discuss what you will do to supplement your learning. I would suggest a volunteer post. I did mine at a hospital and it was very rewarding."
" A volunteer post?"
Madame Alerie nodded.
" We can hold a session two times a week in the evening where we can work together. Anymore than that, you will find yourself overwhelmed and that is the last thing I want. This is why we allow for up to five years to gain your mastery."
Fleur nodded her understanding. If every day was like the previous one, it would become exceedingly difficult to manage.
" What other things could I do?"
Madame Alerie pondered the question for a moment before nodding.
" You could also find a position in a shop that specialise in charmed items, at the Ministry working in one of the departments or even in a school as a Professor's assistant."
The last suggestion piqued her curiosity immediately.
" Would it have to be here?"
The woman shook her head.
" Non, I would recommend another school if you can find one. You have only just graduated from here and it would be good for you to experience another."
Fleur nodded, an idea forming that would solve two problems she faced at once.
(Break)
He was paying much more attention to the woman from his place at the back of the class. Thus far, she had only offered him a triumphant grin, seemingly proud of herself that she had managed to get her way and have him in a detention that would take place this evening.
She had again resorted to ignoring him, but he was not of a similar disposition. His eyes barely left her squat form nor her expression. He studied her intently, looking for any further clarification of what he suspected. Though nothing was apparent, her ability to conceal such proclivities was likely how she had remained undetected for so long.
Perhaps it was only children she had such urges towards. To Harry, it mattered not. Such festering maliciousness could not be left unchecked. He would not allow it to be so.
Whatever the reason, she did not attempt to provoke him as she had in the previous lesson, seemingly to the disappointment of the other students who almost expected it and would occasionally look between the pair almost encouraging it.
Nothing would give him greater pleasure, but he would not instigate, not until he was certain, not until there was no escape for her.
(Break)
Hermione followed Harry from the room with Neville in tow, keen to speak to the other boy. She had tried to find him over the past couple of days, to no avail. He remained as elusive as he had always been, much to her chagrin.
She had discussed her idea with the girls she shared a dorm with, who all agreed that something needed to be done about their lack of education. They had all agreed to attend the meeting she had set up for the next day along with many others. How many? She could not be certain, but she expected a reasonable showing.
"Harry," she called to get his attention.
He stopped and turned, a frown marring his features at the unusual interception.
"Could we speak to you, quickly?" she asked gesturing between herself and Neville.
"You already are," he returned dryly.
Hermione huffed and shook her head.
"I meant in private."
His frown deepened as he nodded and led them into a nearby classroom. Once they had entered, he drew his wand and cast a series of spells, some of which she did not recognise.
"I'm assuming you do not want this to be overheard?"
Again, she shook her head.
"We are holding a meeting tomorrow in Hogsmeade about what can be done about Defence Against the Dark Arts. I was hoping you would come."
"A meeting?"
"Us and some other students. We're worried we will fail if we don't get the help we need to pass our OWLS."
Harry nodded his understanding.
"And you don't want Umbridge to find out."
"No. I was hoping you'd be willing to help out. You already have your OWL."
Harry released a deep sigh as he shook his head.
"Listen, I already have a lot on my plate. I am completing two masteries and have my own problems with Umbridge, but I can give you some advice."
Hermione was disappointed by his dismissal but nodded, nonetheless.
"Do not underestimate Umbridge. She's a horrible cow and will not take it well when she finds out what you're doing, and she will. Secrets do not stay that way for long here and there will be at least one person that will throw you all under the bus if they are caught doing something they shouldn't be or if doing so will benefit them."
"They wouldn't…"
"They would. You have too much faith in people, but you do what you need to. Believe me, I want her gone more than anyone, but you have to be careful. If I was you, I would weather it for now. Something tells me she will not be here for long."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing at the moment, it is just a feeling I have," he answered cryptically.
"That doesn't help us now. We need to do this."
He released a deep breath.
"Then I wish you luck. I won't say a word to anyone, of course, but I wouldn't put my trust in any I don't know."
With that, he undid his spells and took his leave.
"Well, that went well," Neville sighed.
"I thought he would help us."
"Come off it, Hermione. It's as he said, he has a lot going on already and if what he's saying about You-Know-Who being back is true, the last thing he should be worrying about is us."
"I know, I just…nevermind."
"We will be fine," Neville assured her. "If we can get just a few seventh years to do it, it will work."
Hermione nodded uncertainly, Harry's words bringing doubts to the forefront of her mind.
"What if she does find out?"
Neville shrugged uncertainly.
"What's the worst that could happen?"
Hermione frowned. Already Umbridge was causing problems and would likely do so even more if they were to be discovered. It begged the question as to just how far she would be able to go before she went too far on her power trip?
(Break)
"You will be writing lines for me this evening, Mr Potter," the defence professor informed him.
He merely shrugged and took a seat as he removed a quill and ink from his bag.
"There is no need for your own equipment. You will be using a quill of my own," she explained as she opened one of the drawers behind her desk and seemingly hesitated for a moment or so before selecting a tool for him to write with. "Merlin only knows what charms you have placed on your own to cheat your way through."
Harry snorted, fighting the urge to shudder as she handed him the quill.
"And what would you have me write, Professor?" he asked, emphasising her title more than necessary.
Her nostrils flared and cheeks reddened as she glared at him.
"I have no right to disrespect Professor Umbridge."
Harry set about the task, feeling her eyes boring into him as he carried out the pointless work. Her stare began to grate on him after a while and as he finished his first sheet of parchment, he met it with his own.
"You seem to have taken a rather concerning, personal interest in me."
He noticed her square jaw tighten and he took no small amount of joy in how easily he got to her.
He had promised himself that he would be more careful, cautious with the woman, but being in her presence irked him so. There was something about her that bothered him and he could not curb his insolence.
"I take an interest in any that are a threat to the Minister."
"It was Fudge that started all of this," he hissed. "He only had to do his job, but the bloody idiot cannot even do that."
"How dare you…"
"Oh, piss off, you dribbling shit-for-brains," Harry cut in, having had enough of the woman already. "Fudge is a useless bastard that will get a lot of people hurt or killed. You're just as useless as him."
She shook with rage as she stood, her hand twitching towards her wand, only to find that Harry already had is in hand as he stalked towards.
"You wouldn't dare," she said defiantly, "I will have you expelled, boy."
He grinned in response and shook his head.
"Then you do that if you want. I really couldn't care less," he returned. "But if you do, just remember that I will be out there where you cannot keep an eye on me and what I am doing. Such a threat to the Minister, with none to watch what I am doing. Who knows what I may do next?"
Her eyes widened in realisation.
"As far as I'm concerned, you and Fudge can both fuck yourselves. It's as I said back in July. Do not think to turn to me when the truth can no longer be ignored. So, you do as you wish but you will never break me, and you will never get the better of me. Do you want to know why?"
Umbridge could only nod, her trembling no longer from rage.
"Because I do not fear what you or the Ministry can do to me and I will make it my point to do everything I can to make your life hell."
With his final words spoken, he gathered his things and left, the slamming of the door shaking Dolores Umbridge from her stupor.
Cornelius had been right; the boy was deranged, so much so that he had dared to threaten her and him.
She could not let that stand.
Taking a few moments to compose herself, she pondered what could be done about the boy and drew a blank. There was only one person that she could turn to with this matter. As such, she threw a handful of floo powder into the fire and called on him.
"What is it, Dolores?" Cornelius asked as his face appeared in the emerald flames.
"It is, Potter, Cornelius. He is just as unhinged as you thought."
The Minister huffed.
"Then bloody well have him expelled and be done with it. I will speak to Lucius in the morning and get his support."
"No!" she exclaimed. "If we do that, we can no longer keep watch on him. Merlin knows what he will get up to."
Fudge frowned.
"That is some good thinking, Dolores," he praised. "What would you have me do?"
"I need more influence within the school. I need Dumbledore gone and then I can do what needs to be done with the boy."
Cornelius shook his head.
"Impossible. The uproar it would cause would be astronomical, as things are."
"Cornelius, something must be done!"
"Then use your initiative," he fired back. "I placed you there because I thought you were capable. Have I made a mistake?"
"No, Minister."
"Good, now use your brain, Dolores. I'm sure you can come up with something to get the boy in line."
His face vanished and Dolores returned to her chair, her eyes drifting to the drawer where she kept her special quill. She had been sorely tempted to use it this evening but had fought the urge to do so. It would work on some of the less defiant students, but it was too soon for Potter. She needed to break his spirit before, but how?
She would need to ponder it, find a way to use the powers she had to put him in his place.