On the Monday morning of their second week at Hogwarts, Harry was unsurprised when Draco skipped the Slytherin table altogether, in favour of sitting next to Harry with Gryffindor. Apparently, the rest of the table weren't overly surprised either, and no one so much as looked up at the addition of silver and green. Even Ron had simply budged up, and mindlessly passed the coffee pot when Draco asked for it.
"Morning Draco," Hermione said brightly, spooning porridge into her mouth as she skimmed the textbook in her hand.
"Morning Granger," Draco said back, significantly less chirpy, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
"You know, I've been thinking - you should really start calling me Hermione," she said, "It's weird that you call me Granger, when I call you Draco," she pointed out with a small frown, sipping at her tea.
Draco looked dumb struck for a moment, and Harry couldn't quite decide if it was because he was touched at being given permission to use Hermione's given name, or because he'd forgotten she even had one, "It's not weird - I call him by his surname too," he inclined his head in Harry's direction, and at this Hermione put her book down.
"Yes, and that's strange as well," she said shrewdly, "Just call me Hermione, Draco. It won't kill you,"
"It might," Draco muttered into his coffee.
"Don't worry," Ron said around a mouthful of beans, "You can keep calling me Weasley,"
Draco inclined his head, looking genuinely grateful as he buttered a slice of toast, first offering it to Harry, and then finally stuffing it in his mouth when Harry waved him away. Harry glanced up curiously at the rafters of the Great Hall when the morning's post arrived, but turned back to his breakfast when he didn't spot Hedwig's distinctive plumage amongst the arriving owls.
Harry had been halfway through clearing his plate, when Fred and George suddenly sat down with them, and shoved the Daily Prophet under his nose - Draco offered them a reproachful look and slapped him firmly on the back when he nearly choked in surprise on the scrambled egg he had been eating.
"Have you seen this?" George said excitedly, "On page three?" Harry leant forward curiously to read:
'ACCUSATIONS OF IMPROPER CONDUCT BY HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR: THE MINISTRY'S RESPONSE:
In a surprise move at the end of August, the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, announced the appointment of Dolores Jane Umbridge as the new Hogwarts' High Inquisitor, a role that offers the Ministry previously unprecedented levels of oversight and control at the world-famous school. However, the appointment has been overshadowed by malicious accusations by select students, of abuses of power, and the unlawful monitoring of students post. In order to put our reader's minds at ease, The Daily Prophet has approached the Minister for Magic for reassurances about these outlandish accusations.
"The accusations of abuse were made by a singular disgruntled student," said Minister Fudge, "who has brought this accusation forward in response to being assigned a detention by Professor Umbridge. This is a clear attempt by that individual to try and weasel out of their punishment, by unfairly targeting the reputation of a member of staff and taking advantage of the novelty of her new position. The Ministry take such pernicious and litigious accusations very seriously, but until this matter has been resolved by the Ministry's legal team, I am unprepared to comment further, other than to place my full support behind Dolores in this matter."
The Minister also commented on the accusation that the mail entering and leaving Hogwarts is being interfered with unlawfully:
"This is a matter that has been blown completely out of proportion. Routine monitoring of the post coming in and out of Hogwarts has always taken place. This is, and always has been, in the interest of safety - I am sure the Prophet is aware of a certain high-profile student that attends the school. If we were to take this student as an example, recent comments they have made would no doubt inspire some sick individuals to try and take advantage of the postal system in and out of Hogwarts, to try and send them nefarious packages that may cause them, and their schoolmates harm. The Ministry has a responsibility to the safety of all students who attend Hogwarts School, and I will not apologise for this in order to avoid bad optics."
The Daily Prophet thanks the Minister for Magic for responding to this matter with such candour and allowing us the opportunity to reassure our readers.'
"Is he joking!" Ron scoffed, "If all that rubbish about it being normal to monitor the post was true, then none of those awful letters would have gotten through last year would they!" he cried, his voice loud and carrying, and Harry noticed more than one student look over their shoulder curiously, "If they were screening it all, they did a shit job of it didn't they - didn't catch that letter with bubotuber puss that Hermione was sent did they?" more people were looking their way now, many of them on page three of the Prophet.
"Wouldn't have gotten my Firebolt either," Harry added, deliberately speaking louder than necessary, "If they were really monitoring the post, then surely that would have been stopped before it got to me? Right? Since everyone was so concerned about Sirius Black coming to murder me," more and more students had paused to listen, shushing their neighbours in order to hear better.
"Exactly Harry!" Ron half shouted, though Harry thought he was genuinely outraged rather than trying to gain the attention of their fellow students like Harry was, "Do you remember poor Hermione's hands?" Ah, that was why he was so angry, "Either, they're fucking liars, and the post has never been monitored before, or they're all total shit at their jobs, and they're letting dangerous letters get through!"
"If they were monitoring it last year, they didn't catch the bottle of Firewiskey that Montague was sent," Draco added, sneering at the Quidditch captain across the hall and ensuring that his voice carried.
"It's a fucking joke!"
"Mister Weasley," McGonagall said sharply having been drawn over by their outraged, half-shouting match, "You will desist using such foul language immediately! This is a school, not a pub! And you will lower your volume too – five points from Gryffindor!"
"But Professor! Have you read this absolute rubbish!"
She scowled, "Yes Weasley, I possess the ability to read, you shall be glad to know. Now, please continue your conversation in a manner more befitting a Hogwarts student, or I shall be forced to assign you a detention," she turned back to the faculty table, and the hall that had fallen nearly entirely silent to try and listen, was suddenly full of murmured conversation again.
"They definitely don't normally monitor the post," George muttered to Harry, "Me and Fred get illegal stuff posted in all the time," Harry grinned at him.
"I particularly enjoyed the implication that a hoard of people are secretly sending horrendous things in the post to Harry, and that out of the goodness of their hearts, the Ministry has been intercepting them," Draco commented, taking the paper from George with an amused smirk, "Do you mind if I do the crossword?" he asked, folding the paper in half and producing a quill.
"Do we look like the sort of people who do crosswords, Malfoy?" Fred scoffed.
"You don't look like the sort of people who can read at all, to be honest," Draco expertly dodged the slice of toast that was thrown in his direction, "I take it that I have your permission?"
"I'm impressed by how quickly Cho spread the word around," said Harry, chewing on his last bit of bacon.
"Cho?" Hermione said curiously, and she hummed thoughtfully after Harry told the table what had happened on Saturday morning, "I wonder what Umbridge thought she would find in your letter..."
"Probably thinks I have a connection to Snuffles," Harry said lowly.
"But why?" she mused.
"My father, most likely" Draco supplied distractedly, nibbling the end of his quill as he filled in the crossword puzzle, "No doubt that rat told him and the others all about Snuffles and Harry - who invented the blasting curse, eight letters, starts with 'T'?"
"Alberta Toothill," Hermione supplied.
"Perfect - thanks Granger,"
"Hermione," she said meaningfully, and Draco wilted slightly and said:
"I just don't think I can,"
Harry didn't even attempt to stay awake during History of Magic, transfiguring his quill into a pillow the second he had sat down. Hermione let out a little sound of surprise, and then seemed torn between being impressed by the transfiguration, and scowling in disapproval when he punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape, before snuggling into it on his desk. He drew a line at conjuring a blanket though, but only because he thought Professor Binns may actually have noticed that. He couldn't understand how anyone other than Hermione ever succeeded in this class – how had Umbridge even managed to inspect it? How do you put a ghost on probation?
Draco met them on their way to potions, a slight skip in his step, and soil smeared just under his jaw.
"Why are you so happy?" Harry asked suspiciously, pausing to allow the Slytherin to catch up so they could fall into step with one another.
"Just had a load of Ravenclaws quizzing me about Umbridge and Filch in Herbology - Cho must have spoken to them or something. They were all quite outraged," he said cheerfully, "Sprout got involved as well, for a bit, before she realised the chomping cabbages had started tearing one another apart,"
"Good! So they should be," Hermione said firmly, "We need people to start getting angry! And we need them to write to their parents too - we need them to be angry more than anything,"
"You've got dirt on you," Harry pointed out, using his finger to swipe through the soil on Draco's skin where his neck and jaw met, "Look,"
Draco leant back to try and avoid him, "Do you mind," he snapped, using the back of his own hand to wipe the remnants from his Herbology class away, "Why is your hair all flat on one side by the way?"
"Because Harry slept through the entirety of History of Magic," Hermione supplied tartly while Harry tried to fluff his hair back up.
"Better?"
Draco smiled and said, "No," but made no effort to try and help.
They joined the queue outside of Potions just behind Pansy, who reluctantly turned to the group to greet them, "Good morning," while she no longer looked like she was being held at knife point, she definitely looked like she'd swallowed something sour; in front of her, Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles threateningly, and Theodore Nott gave them a slight scowl too, but his heart was very obviously not in it, "I see you've gained the Minister's attention Draco," she said coolly, "possibly not your best idea,"
"Fudge can sit and swivel, Pans - this time next year he'll be firmly out of office, and I'll be here, queuing up outside a classroom, preparing for the long life of success ahead of me, while he cries into his fire whiskey at The Leaky Cauldron,"
"My gran doesn't even think he'll last that long," Neville had arrived quietly behind them, and nervously inserted himself into the conversation, "Apparently, there are whispers in the Wizengamot about forcing an election - I don't think Umbridge has gone down as well as he thought she would,"
"So, we could have a new Minister soon?" Hermione said with interest, but Pansy snorted.
"I wouldn't bet on it - if they want a new Minister, they won't force an election until they're sure he'll lose. Otherwise, they'll get stuck with him for another seven years," their conversation was interrupted by the opening of the classroom's door.
When they had all taken their seats, Snape walked up and down between the rows, handing back their homework. Harry was pleasantly surprised to find his essay had received an A - he was certain that he'd deserved an E, but he had expected a P from Snape just for the sake of it. Draco had received an O, but his attention was focussed on Harry's paper, his eyes zipping back and forth as he read Harry's essay over his shoulder.
"That's definitely worth more than an A," Draco said firmly, "Snape really doesn't like you, huh,"
Harry only shrugged, "He's done worse, at least he passed me,"
At the end of the class, Harry had produced a perfect caldron full of strengthening solution and had been carrying his sample up to the front of the class, when Crabbe suddenly stood up in front of him. Harry was unable to react quickly enough to prevent his glass flagon from falling to dungeon's stone floor and smashing. Crabbe smirked cruelly, and the class held their collective breath.
"Whoops,"
Harry rolled his eyes, vanishing the mess on the floor, and very pointedly collecting himself a new flagon. While maintaining eye contact with the Slytherin, he wrote his name on it, decanted another sample of his potion, and headed back to the front of the class, "No worries," he said brightly, "No harm, no foul,"
Crabbe scowled, clenching his fists and looking like he wanted nothing more than to punch Harry square in the face. Unsurprisingly, while the class were exchanging curious looks with on another, Snape acted as if nothing at all had happened, his dark eyes following Harry as he deposited his sample, and staying with him as he made his way back to his station to collect his bag and leave the class.
Draco scrambled to catch up with him as he ascended the staircase out of the dungeon.
"You sure Crabbe isn't a lost cause?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"No," Draco admitted, "but worth trying to persuade him not to grow into a completely evil git, if we can help it. Not that I imagine either he, or Goyle have the mental capacity to be the next Dark Lord,"
"What happened to Goyle last time?" Harry slowed a little, so their pace was more of a casual stroll.
"Not sure to be honest, I cut ties with him pretty much immediately after the battle of Hogwarts. I heard he married some pure-blood witch in America and moved out that way, but that's all I know. Be careful of them though," Draco warned, "Magically they're not much of a threat, but they're perfectly capable of ambushing you and trying to kick the shit out of you,"
"Surely you're in more danger of that, than me - you share a dormitory with them,"
Draco gave him a grim smile, "They already tried, but don't worry, they won't be trying again any time soon,"
"They tried to beat you up?" Harry cried, "When was this? Why didn't you tell me?!"
Draco waved away his concern, "It was the last day of term - calm down, calm down. It's all fine - I was expecting it, so when they tried, I jinxed them to within an inch of their life and put them in a full-body bind. I don't actually know when they were found, but they certainly weren't on the train home,"
They parted ways at the Grand Staircase when Draco headed off for Arithmancy, and Harry went back to the Gryffindor common room.
Harry spent his free period in the boy's dormitories, cursing the stupid quill that simply wouldn't climb the distance from the floor to the top of his mattress when he summoned it from Ron's bed. He gave up, and resigned himself to making notes that would actually be useful from his History of Magic textbook. Whatever romanticised feelings he'd had about school as an adult were slowly melting away. He'd clearly forgotten how soul destroying preparing for his OWLs had been, and how frustrating it was to be forced to concentrate on something you had no interest in. By the time the school bell rang, Harry was feeling somewhat despondent about having three more years of schooling left.
Harry found Ron and Hermione waiting for him outside of the Defence classroom, whispering furtively to one another. They glanced up at his arrival, and Ron's eyes narrowed darkly.
"Mate," he started, "That class was a nightmare,"
Harry blinked in surprise, "What? Divination? Why?"
"Trelawney was in a foul mood - kept going on about how she'd been disrespected, and no one appreciated the years of her life she'd sacrificed to the school. Lavender managed to get it out of her that Umbridge has put her on probation, and she spent the last half of the lesson crying," Ron sounded particularly bewildered at this, "Then she disappeared into her office, and I don't know what she was doing but it sounded like she was chucking things around the room. And then, she dismissed us ten minutes before the bell, but she shouted it through the door rather than coming out. Lavender and Parvati stayed behind to try and make sure she was okay,"
"She's been put on probation already?" Harry said incredulously, "But it's only been a week - how many lessons of hers could she have seen?"
"Well it's doesn't take much to realise that Trelawney's an old fraud," Hermione scoffed, "Oh don't look at me like that," she snapped at Ron's reproachful expression, "You know I'm right - I do agree, she shouldn't be made to cry about it though," she admitted.
"I wonder if anyone else will be put on probation," Ron said nervously.
"I bet you Hagrid will be, when he comes back," Harry murmured, "He could be the best teacher going and it wouldn't matter - he's half giant after all, so she'll hate him. Did you guys hear her trying to get out of Flitwick, if he had any non-human ancestry?"
Hermione scowled and nodded, "I heard her - it's disgusting bigotry. I hope she doesn't try and get rid of him,"
"I'm sure she won't Mione'," Ron reassured her, "He's got years and years of experience teaching, and he's a Charms Master too,"
Hermione didn't look any less unsure when they entered the class and took their seats. Umbridge was at the front of the class, sat behind her desk, her hands folded in her lap. Harry noticed, with disappointment, that her hair appeared to be finally lying flat once more. She must have discovered the jinx.
"Wands away!" Like many other students, Harry hadn't bothered taking his out, "Chapter Two, Common Defensive Theories and their Derivation. There will be no need to talk!"
Harry opened his book, but noted with interest that the desk he was using was covered in a thin layer of dust still, and a cursory glance around the classroom revealed that all the surfaces within his sight were also covered in dust. So, she hadn't discovered the jinx? Or had she discovered it, but only on herself? Harry looked more closely at Umbridge, leaning forward to peer at her hair, and then he realised what she had done, and had to duck his head down quickly to cover his grin. She hadn't discovered the jinx at all. Instead, she had resorted to using a thick gel or pomade to try and tame her locks and had created a kind of thick shiny helmet out of her hair, like the kind that Dudley owned, but refused to wear when riding a bike. Strangely, she'd still put her pink head band on top, but Harry wasn't sure what she thought it was adding to the look.
Harry glanced over at Ron to share a grin of amusement, but found him sat extremely straight in his chair, his hand held straight above his head. Harry frowned in confusion, and looked over to Hermione, to find she was doing the same. He looked repeatedly between the two of them, wondering if this had been coordinated, and if so, why hadn't he been included. His attention was drawn back to Umbridge at the sound of her clicking heels as she crossed the room to stand in front of Hermione.
She leant forward, and said very quietly so that only Hermione could hear, "What is it Miss Granger?"
"I've already read Chapter Two," Hermione announced loudly and pointedly, projecting so that her voice echoed around the classroom.
"Well then, proceed to Chapter Three,"
Ron had apparently grown fed up with being ignored, "We have Professor," the entire class had given up any pretence of reading the book now, "We've both read the whole thing,"
Umbridge scowled, "Hand up, Mister Weasley. Five points from Gryffindor," Ron scowled, and determinedly stuck his hand back up in the air, "In that case, you should be able to tell me what Misterr Slinkhard thinks about counter-jinxes in chapter fourteen, Miss Granger,"
"He thinks that they're improperly named - and that people just call their jinxes, counter-jinxes to make them sound more acceptable. I don't think Mister Slinkhard likes counter-jinxes very much. I disagree though,"
Umbridge's eyes narrowed, "You do?"
"Yes - I think they can be quite useful if used in a defensive capacity,"
Umbridge had a barely suppressed sneer now, "Well, in this classroom, it is Mister Slinkhard's opinion that matters - not yours," Dean had his hand up now as well, but Umbridge ignored him and Ron both, "Five points from Gryffindor, for disrupting my class, Miss Granger," even the Ravenclaw's muttered amongst themselves at this, "Your previous teachers may have allowed you licence to ask pointless questions to derail their class, but I shall not. And as none of them would have passed inspection, except perhaps Professor Quirrell, my teaching style shall not be informed by -,"
"I'm sorry," Ron said loudly, "But did you just suggest that Quirrell was our best Defence teacher? The bloke with an unfortunate parasite in his turban?"
"Mister Weasley -," Umbridge snarled, but Dean had grown tired of being ignored as well.
"Professor Lupin was an amazing teacher! Better than any Defence Professor we've ever had!"
Umbridge scoffed, "I hardly think a dangerous halfbreed is a good example of a suitable teacher!"
"There's nothing wrong with being a werewolf," Hermione snapped.
"Yeah! It's not his fault that he got bit when he was a kid," Ron added with fervour, "and he never hurt any of us!"
"He's the only reason we know anything about this stupid class," Dean continued, giving Umbridge an obviously reproachful look.
"That is quite -,"
"And what are we meant to do in these classes, now that we've finished the book," Ron interrupted, his face turning faintly puce and making his hair appear even more ginger by comparison, "Sit here in silence and just think about defensive spells?"
"Mister Weasley!"
"We're definitely going to fail our OWLs," the silent Ravenclaw's shifted uncomfortably at Hermione's proclamation, and Harry heard one of them whisper 'Are we really going to fail?'.
"Who cares about OWLs!" Ron was near to shouting, and looking liable to stand up at any moment, "What are OWLs going to matter when we're all murdered by some Dark Wizard when we leave school?" Ron pounded his fists against his desk and was abruptly on his feet.
"What's it going to matter if we can't keep ourselves safe?" Dean was actually shouting now and had jumped to his feet too.
Hermione, more calmly, stood and said, "What's it going to matter when You-Know-Who tries to kill us all?"
"ENOUGH!" Umbridge screeched, sparks flying from her wand and silencing the class with an enormous bang. For a moment, Umbridge just stood there, panting furiously, her hands clenched into tight fists by her sides, and her eyes darting between the three students who were stood and staring defiantly back at her. She turned suddenly, and marched back to her desk, pulling a piece of parchment free, and scribbling out a note quickly, before turning back to the class, "Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, Mister Thomas - you will take this note, and you will leave my classroom, and go directly to your Head of House," there was a split second where nobody moved, before Ron roughly pushed his chair back, grabbed his bag, and strode forwards to snatch the note out of Umbridge's hand. Hermione and Dean followed him silently out of the classroom.
Harry was starting to think that he had been less disruptive to these classes than Umbridge had originally accused him of being.
Harry ended up sitting with Ginny at dinner, as neither Ron, Hermione, or Dean had reappeared after the end of class - he presumed they had quickly scoffed some dinner and gone straight to detention.
"That's crazy," Ginny said, her voice full of awe as she twirled spaghetti on her fork, "All three of them? Even Hermione?"
"Yup," Harry said with a pop, "I don't know for sure that they got detention, but they're not here, and they were basically all shouting at her,"
"You know, I'm surprised it's not you who's busy shouting in class," Ginny said contemplatively, "You really grew up over the summer," she finished quietly, but Harry only shrugged.
"Shit happened, I guess," he was saved from having to find more to say by Draco, who demonstrated his impeccable timing once more by sitting himself down heavily next to Harry. Draco barely spared a moment to say 'hello' before he was spooning salmon and dauphinois potatoes onto his plate. Harry's eyes flashed in surprise when Blaise also seated himself at the table, though he did it with significantly more gravitas.
Ginny eyed him curiously, "Hello," Ginny said, holding out her hand, "Don't think we've met," Harry watched feeling mildly confused when the Slytherin considered her hand for a moment before shaking it.
"Blaise Zabini," Harry was struck, not for the first time, by the Slytherin's smooth, deep voice.
"Ginny Weasley,"
"Pleased to make your acquaintance,"
"Likewise," it was only now that they released one another's hand. Oh, Ron was not going to like this.
"Where's Weasley and Granger?" Draco said absently, clearly not seeing what Harry was seeing.
"They took a leaf out of your book and started shouting at Umbridge in the middle of class,"
"They didn't," Draco crowed, looking strangely pleased, "You're telling me that Granger got herself into trouble?" Harry nodded, "So, have they got detention?"
"Probably - they got sent to see McGonagall with a note, but I haven't actually seen them since,"
"I never thought I'd see the day," Draco chortled, "Do you think it's me? Do you think I've been a bad influence?"
"Or a good influence," said Ginny, tucking her hair behind her ear, and discreetly looking at Blaise out of the corner of her eye, "Finally got her enjoying a bit of healthy rebellion,"
"She picked a good time," Harry admitted, trying not to watch Blaise, as he watched Ginny. His attention was caught by Draco putting a plate at his elbow. He looked down to find a slice of treacle tart.
"It's the last one," Draco explained with a shrug, and Harry found himself suppressing a pleased smile, his eyes catching on the flick of Draco's hair that was hovering just in front of his face as he ate his dinner. When he turned back to watching Ginny and Blaise, he found he was the one being observed now. Ginny flicked a knowing look between them.
Tuesday morning found Draco practically grilling Hermione over her first ever detention, "You never forget your first," he said with a sly grin.
But Hermione only rolled her eyes and tucked into her cereal, "Oh, shut up," she snapped, "Like you're some veteran of detentions. And it's been fine - it's with McGonagall, not Umbridge, and she's not even really punishing us,"
"I think she was weirdly proud to be honest," Ron said cheerfully.
"I don't think she was proud, Ron - she told us to keep our heads down and not draw attention to ourselves," she reminded him.
"Yeah - but she offered us biscuits as well," he said triumphantly, as if that was some kind of secret code to McGonagall's true feelings on any given topic.
"What's she getting you to do then?" Ginny asked curiously, and Harry pretended not to see when she glanced over at the Slytherin table.
"Just doing our homework," Hermione said with a shrug.
"OI!" they all jumped, and warily looked down the length of the table to find Angelina marching furiously towards then, "You!" she pointed threateningly at Ron, who audibly gulped, "What's this about you having detention? You've only been on the team a week and you're already going to be missing practice?!"
Ron's mouth flapped silently for a moment before he managed to speak, "Y-yeah, sorry Angelina - but it's only Friday! I'll be there on Saturday!" He said desperately.
"You better be Weasley, or we'll be finding ourselves a new keeper," she said dangerously, flicking her long hair over her shoulder and marching away just as quickly as she'd come.
"She might actually kill me, before the year is out," Ron said, mournfully stirring his porridge.
In Charms that morning, Flitwick had nearly toppled over in excitement when Harry successfully demonstrated his nonverbal summoning charm. When Harry had demonstrated it again on a particularly heavy book on the other side of the room, he actually had fallen over.
"Brilliant Mister Potter! Simply brilliant!" he'd cried once he was back on his feet again, "Twenty points to Gryffindor!"
Transfiguration that afternoon, was significantly more exciting than Harry had anticipated. Perched on a chair at the back of the classroom, her clipboard clutched in her hands, with her wild hair being suppressed by her makeshift helmet of gel, and accessorised by a pink beret, was Professor Umbridge. Harry didn't disguise his grin of glee this time, and instead waved enthusiastically at her as he took his seat next to Ron. She was clearly unsettled by this, her gaze flicking around the classroom as the students seated themselves, but constantly returning to Harry.
"That will do," McGonagall said sharply as she strode into the room, completely ignoring Umbridge in the corner. Harry watched in amusement, expecting events to unfold much as they had before - he was surprised therefore, when McGonagall said, "Miss Brown, please take this box of mice - don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you - and hand one to each student, except for Mister Potter -," Harry sat up straighter at his name, confused, and barely listening when Umbridge interrupted McGonagall, and was summarily put in her place much as she had been before.
Harry watched in trepidation as McGonagall approached him, her hands clasped together, and a strangely expectant smile on her face.
"Mister Potter," she said lightly, and Harry noticed that she had positioned herself so that Umbridge had a clear view of Harry's desk, "As you have thus far been extremely successfully with vanishing animals, I thought we might test the extent of your abilities, so I might know where best to stretch your skills,"
Harry slumped, and reluctantly said, "Yes Professor," by the end of the class, McGonagall and conjured, and then had Harry vanish: a rabbit, a hawk, a cat, an iguana, a goat, and finally, a frankly horrifyingly huge Great Dane, "Please don't start conjuring ponies Professor," Harry had begged quietly, and McGonagall had finally nodded, and offered Umbridge (who had been furiously scribbling on her clipboard in the corner) a smug smile, before turning her attention elsewhere.
"Twenty point to Gryffindor Potter - now, if you wouldn't mind assisting Weasley in vanishing his mouse,"
Draco, and an obviously very reluctant Pansy, joined them for lunch.
"We might as well eat with you guys," Draco explained, "'Scuse me," a fourth year shot Draco a disgruntled look, but reluctantly shuffled their way down the table so that Draco could sit himself down next to Harry, "Since we've got Care of Magical Creatures together," Pansy had seated herself next to Ron, and delicately served herself some soup, as if she were worried there was something contagious at the table and if she were too heavy handed, she would catch it, "Good morning?"
"We had Umbridge watching McGonagall," Harry answered when it became apparent that Hermione was too busy with her reading material, and Ron was too busy eyeing Pansy nervously.
"She was in our Herbology class last week - it was great. Sprout cracked out the Mandrakes for the lesson," Draco said smirking, "They don't even come up in OWLs I'm pretty sure - Umbridge looked like she was gonna' shit herself. Spent the whole time holding her earmuffs on to her head,"
"What I want to know," said Hermione, glancing up from her book, "is where on earth she's getting the time to sit in on all these lessons. Surely, she has classes of her own,"
"No idea," Draco said dismissively, "Probably skipping out on the first years class - guessing they're just reading a book as well, so all she needs is to tell Filch or someone to baby sit them,"
Hermione scowled, outraged, "She's helping to ruin an entire generations education!" she cried, outraged, "This can't stand - we have to do something about this!"
"Like what Mione'," Ron said, finally tearing himself away from supervising Pansy as she ate her soup, "Can't exactly get her sacked can we," he inclined his head towards Draco, "she tried to torture this one and all that happened was she stopped being allowed to host detentions,"
"And The Ministry put out an article defending her, and discrediting Draco," Harry added.
"It's just so wrong," Hermione muttered, returning to her book.
Having clearly exited the conversation, Harry turned his attention back to Draco, and was surprised to find that Draco was eyeing him closely, "What?" he said slowly, and Draco pursed his lips for a moment, before shaking his head and returning to his lunch without another word.
By the time they had walked themselves down to Care of Magical Creatures, and all five of them were gathered around a Niffler, each taking it in turns to hide a fake galleon on their person for it to find, Hermione had worked herself up into an apoplectic rage.
"It's disgusting! If you told me that the Minister was working for You-Know-Who himself, I'd believe you," she snarled, poking a hole through her parchment as she haphazardly sketched the Niffler as it sprinted about between them, "But no - no, rather than being a Death Eater, he's just so unbelievably incompetent that he's sabotaging any chance we have of triumphing against him. He should be in Azkaban - it's positively criminal!"
"What are you expecting any of us to say, Granger?" Pansy finally snapped, making the Niffler that had been investigating her pockets jump back in alarm, "There's no point sitting here and raging when there's nothing any of us can do! Or are you expecting us all to take up arms, and march on the Dark Lord,"
Hermione scowled, "Obviously not," she shot back.
"And what are you expecting us to do about Umbridge? She's a teacher! There's nothing we can do - they don't just sack teachers because nobody likes them. If that was the case, they'd have gotten rid of Binns years ago!" Pansy threw her hands up in the air in despair.
"What if," Draco said slowly, absently scratching the Niffler behind the ears, and glancing nervously at Harry, "What if there was something we could do?"
"Like what? Poison her?" Ron snarked, "If there's a way you think we can get away with it, I'm all for it,"
Draco hesitated though, his grey eyes locked on Harry's. Harry knew exactly what he was thinking, and he honestly couldn't say if it was a good idea or not. The DA had been excellent, and had probably helped a good number of his year group pass their OWLs. But it was also potentially a whole heap of trouble they didn't need - both in terms of sneaking around the school and trying not to get caught, and dedicating more of their time to school related activities.
"If we just wait, she'll leave eventually anyway," Pansy grumbled, "The Defence post is meant to be cursed, isn't it?"
Draco was still looking at him, and Harry was still thinking. He thought of the original end of this school year, of all of the skills they'd learnt being put to the test against the Death Eaters and, ultimately, saving them all from certain death. He thought of the final battle of Hogwarts, and all of his friends who might have died if they hadn't had that extra year of education in defensive magic. Harry pursed his lips and knew suddenly what side of this argument he would land on. He nodded discreetly, and Draco finally spoke.
"We could always try and teach ourselves," he said casually, opening his cloak to give the Niffler better access as it investigated his pockets looking for something shiny.
Ron scoffed, "What, like go to the library and try and just learn from books? That's basically what Umbridge is trying to get us to do!"
They were interrupted by the school bell ringing in the distance, but Harry didn't miss the contemplative look on Hermione's face as they made their way back up to the castle.
He and Draco walked side by side, a little distance between them and the other three.
"Sorry," Draco muttered, "I didn't mean to spring that on you, but it only just occurred to me,"
Harry waved away his apology, "Don't worry - it's probably a good idea, but we need to discuss the details of the direction we want to try and steer this. Hermione will probably latch onto it and bring it up with me by the end of the week - head to the Room at the weekend? To figure something out?"
Draco smiled and nodded, squeezing Harry's shoulder, his touch lingering for a moment, "Sounds good," finally, he let his hand fall, and they finished the rest of their trudge in a comfortable silence.
On Wednesday, walking into the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione, Harry could already see Draco waiting for him at the Gryffindor table. Harry couldn't suppress the small smile that the sight of Draco's platinum blonde hair inspired. When Draco noticed their approach, he raised a hand in greeting and indicated to the spot next to him. A cup of tea was sat ready and waiting for Harry.
"Hey," Harry greeted cheerfully, while Ron and Hermione were comparatively sluggish in their morning greeting, "This for me?" Draco nodded, sipping his own hot drink delicately, "Thanks!" Harry was still smiling to himself as he piled bacon onto his plate.
"Why are you so happy?" Ron grumbled, spooning an unhealthy amount of sugar into his coffee, "I don't even know why you get up to early on Wednesdays," he complained, "You have a free period first thing!"
"No reason," Harry said lightly, but he flushed despite himself.
There was definitely a reason he still got up unnecessarily early on a Wednesday morning, and the reason was currently sat next to him, sifting through the fried eggs available, trying to pick one that was up to muster. But he wasn't prepared to tell Ron that - hell, he was barely able to admit it to himself. And so, he continued preparing his breakfast, decidedly not thinking about why he was up at seven in the morning when he could have slept for at least another two hours.
"I got another letter from Themis by the way," Draco said, distracting Harry, who perked up eagerly, "Still nowhere near being finished with the transfer of ownership," he said, his lips downturned, "Apparently the Minster has got himself involved now," he added bitterly.
"Is he going to be able to stop the transfer?" Harry asked anxiously, but Draco shook his head.
"No, no - goblins don't give a fuck what any wizard has to say, Minister or not. Shows that my father still hasn't stopped trying to interfere," he scowled.
Harry lowered his voice to a whisper, "Do you think he knows what's inside? Do you think he's told Voldemort?"
Draco shook his head warily, "No, I don't, otherwise they'd have just broken into it by now, wouldn't they - he's done it before after all," Harry nodded in agreement, but didn't feel reassured. If Voldemort got the cup, he didn't know what they would do.
He was distracted by arrival of the morning's post and peered up into the rafters hoping to spot Hedwig amongst the greys, and browns, and blacks. He straightened eagerly when her shock of white feathers came into view but frowned in concern at the strange lopsided angle of her flight. As she began her decent, he realised abruptly that she was about to crash land into the middle of the table. It appeared however, that Draco had noticed the same thing a split second before Harry, and he half dived over the table to catch her before she landed headfirst into the beans, letting out a little oof as she collided with his chest.
"Hedwig!" Harry cried urgently, hands reaching out for the snowy owl cradled in Draco's arms. Draco carefully passed her over, as if they were exchanging a baby between them, "Oh, Hedwig, what happened to you?"
Draco grimaced, "I think she was attacked," her flight feathers on her left wing were sticking up at an awkward angle, and the feathers around her talons were stained a red brown with old blood. Draco gently stroked the top of her head with his finger, and she gave a sad little hoot in response.
"Is she okay?" Hermione said in concern, leaning forward.
"I bet it was Umbridge," Ron said darkly, glaring up at the dumpy witch and her helmet hair at the faculty table, "Do you reckon she got your letter?" in response, Hedwig obediently stuck her leg out to demonstrate the still attached letter. Draco undid the twine around her leg delicately, and revealed two letters, before pushing them into Harry's cloak pocket for him.
"Professor Grubbly-Plank is having breakfast, Harry," Hermione said, "I'm sure she would help,"
Harry nodded, and carefully clambered to his feet, trying his best not to jostle Hedwig. He was pretty sure she would have been able to perch herself on his shoulder like normal, but for the moment he could barely stand to be parted from her, reminded of the cruel and needless way she had died in their past life. Instead, he cradled her to his chest and cooed at her like he had his children when they were babies.
"Is that your owl Harry?" he glanced up at Cho as he past the Ravenclaw table, and nodded, his expression tight and grave; Cho gasped and was immediately on her feet, "Is she okay?" she asked urgently, "Oh look at her feathers," much like Draco, Cho reached out a hand and gently stroked Hedwig's cheek, and the owl preened just a little, clearly enjoying being doted upon, "What happened?"
"I don't know - but I have my suspicions," he glanced meaningfully in Umbridge's direction.
Cho followed his gaze, and scowled, "Do you think she did this?" she hissed, and Harry nodded solemnly.
"The last time I saw Hedwig was when I sent her with a letter on Saturday,"
Cho shook her head in disbelief, "That's disgusting," she said horrified, "That she would do this to your poor owl!"
"What happened to your owl, Harry?" said Padma; it appeared Harry had accidentally gained a circle of concerned Ravenclaw girls, that included Luna, but also many students he didn't recognise, "Oh, bless her!" the girls crowded closer, and Harry was sure now that Hedwig was milking it, her hoot taking on a distinctly more pathetic edge, and practically swooning in Harry's arms as the girls gently petted her plumage.
"We think she targeted her," Cho said meaningfully, discreetly nodding in Umbridge's direction, and a girl Harry didn't know, but he thought she might have been called Eliza, gasped.
"No!"
"You poor thing," Luna said softly.
"Did she get your post, Harry?" Cho said sharply, and Harry shook his head to the negative, "Good,"
"Girls, girls," McGonagall had appeared to disperse the small gathering that was now obstructing any student who wished to pass between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, "What's going on?" her eyes found Harry, and narrowed, "Potter?"
"It's my owl Miss," Harry said pleadingly, and as if on cue, Hedwig gave another weak hoot, and the girls aww'd, "I think something has attacked her - I was going to see if Professor Grubbly-Plank could help,"
McGonagall's eyes narrowed at the implications associated with Harry's post being stolen, and she nodded brusquely, "With me then, Potter. Back to your seats please ladies," reluctantly, the girls parted to allow them to pass, "Wilhelmina, I'm sorry to interrupt your breakfast,"
Professor Grubbly-Plank looked up in interest at their approach, and waved away McGonagall's apology, "Not at all, how can I help?" she spotted Hedwig in Harry's arms, and her eyes flashed curiously, "Is that an owl?" she pushed herself from her seat and walked round the table towards them.
"Yes, Professor - she's injured," he held Hedwig out so she could be more easily inspected.
"Hmm, unusual - looks like something attacked her," behind Professor Grubbly-Plank, Umbridge choked a little on her tea, and tried to clear her throat delicately, but missed the mark, "Pass her here than, Potter," Harry handed her over, and Professor Grubbly-Plank gingerly inspected her left wing, "I think she'll be alright in a few days Potter, don't worry, I'll look after her. Where was she flying from?"
"London," he and McGonagall shared a meaningful glance, but Grubbly-Plank only hummed.
"Well she won't be travelling such long distances for a few weeks, I would think, but otherwise she'll be fine. I'll look after her, don't worry," and with that, Professor Grubbly-Plank left the hall, still carefully inspecting Hedwig for injuries, and taking hold of the tip of her wing to slowly open and close the appendage.
McGonagall carefully stepped them forward so they were further out of Umbridge's hearing, and muttered out of the corner of her mouth, "Was your letter taken?"
"No, Professor," Harry answered, his voice just as quiet, and McGonagall released a sigh of relief.
"Good - you should bear in mind Potter," she said seriously, "that the lines of communication in, and out of Hogwarts, are being monitored. I suggest that you avoid using your owl for the foreseeable future - she is very distinctive,"
Harry nodded, glancing over at Umbridge who was very deliberately looking anywhere but their direction, "Yes, Professor."
Harry waited until he was back in his dorm to look at the letters that Umbridge had tried to steal.
The first, was from Sirius.
'Dear Harry,
I'm managing - dear old mum is enjoying letting me know how she feels about me every now and then, but nothing I can't handle. It's been very quiet since the first though, so still trying to get used to it.
I've read about this High Inquisitor - just carry on the way you are, and don't get yourself into any trouble. I hope Draco's okay - I heard about that as well. Just steer well clear if you can.
I passed on your message to Moony, and he's going to write as well I think.
How are you doing in class? Have they scared you half to death about your OWLs yet?
Missing you lots,
Snuffles'.
And the second was from Remus.
'Dear Harry,
How are you? I imagine you've had an eventful first week back, especially as you're now in your OWL year. Just try to keep your head down, and work hard. Fifth year always sends a few people a bit crazy, but you just need to keep it in perspective - you're a perfectly capable wizard, and OWLs aren't the be-all and end-all of your entire life. Perhaps you should pass that advice onto Hermione as well, as I imagine she is feeling the pressure.
Pass my regards onto Draco - I heard about that business with the High Inquisitor. I'm sure he's taking care of himself, and you, but if he needs anything, always know I will try my best.
All my love,
Mooney xx'.
Harry stared at Remus's letter, his fingers tracing over the last sentence contemplatively; 'taking care of himself, and you,' and Harry realised how true it was. Harry didn't think he'd gone a day since getting back to school, where Draco hadn't done something to look out for him, whether that was by giving him pre-buttered toast, making his tea, saving him desert, or opening a door for him. Or, he thought in amusement, saving him from Cho when the need arose. Swallowing against the sudden flutter in his stomach, Harry stuffed the letters into his bag, and abruptly pulled his History of Magic textbook free, and tried to distract himself by reading about Goblin Rebellions and Giant wars.
On Friday evening, Harry had settled himself in front of the common room fire to complete his homework while he waited for Ron and Hermione to return from their final detention with Professor McGonagall. Quidditch practice that evening had been especially brutal, as if Angelina were trying to psychically communicate her displeasure with Ron to him, by driving the rest of the team as hard as possible. Harry certainly hadn't gotten away with lazily floating about the Quidditch pitch this time and had instead had to deal with Angelina pelting golf balls about the pitch for him to catch. One or two of them had collided rather painfully with Harry's head. He wasn't quite sure what that was meant to be training him to do, if he was honest, as he didn't think anyone had ever won a Quidditch match by head butting the snitch.
They returned around nine o'clock - much later than he had expected.
"She kept you late," he complained, and Ron scowled, while Hermione looked unbothered.
"Mione' asked if we could stay until we'd finished out homework," he said darkly, and Hermione tutted.
"Oh, don't complain. We were nearly done with everything, and now at least you haven't got to worry about any homework on the weekend," he rolled his eyes, and something suddenly occurred to Harry.
"Ron, you know you told Umbridge you'd read the entire book - when did you manage that?"
"Last Saturday," Ron answered flippantly, collapsing on the sofa by Harry before qualifying, "Well, not all of it, but pretty much most of it. I figured Hermione would be the one answering questions," he said with a shrug, "You were with Malfoy most of the day, so needed to find something to do, didn't I,"
"I'm right here you know," Hermione said tartly, sitting down on Harry's other side, "and speaking of Draco, I've been thinking about what he said," she said slowly, and Ron frowned in confusion, but Harry knew exactly what she was talking about.
"Said about what?"
"About us teaching ourselves," she looked nervously out of the corner of her eye at Harry, "What we really need, is someone who can teach us - because there's no way we're ever going to learn anything in that awful class, and books can only take us so far. We need someone who can demonstrate these spells and tell us where we're going wrong. And it's about more than just passing our OWLs," she continued, "It's about being prepared for what's waiting for us out in the world. We're not going to stop any Death Eater's from murdering us by telling them all of our theoretical knowledge on defensive magic," she scoffed, "and if we're going to be ready to face… to face V-Voldemort," Ron let out a little gasp when she finally stuttered through the name, "then we need to prepare ourselves,"
"But, Hermione, who are we gonna' get to teach us?" Ron asked incredulously, "The other teachers hardly have time - and," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "the order definitely don't,"
Hermione bit her lip, "Actually, I was thinking you might, Harry," she said hesitantly, and Harry pretended to be surprised.
"What?"
"Oh! Actually, that makes total sense," said Ron enthusiastically, "You're really good at defence! Always have been,"
Hermione nodded vigorously in agreement, "Exactly, and you have actual real-life experience of facing the dark arts too - all of the things you've done! The stone, the basilisk, fighting off all of those dementors,"
"This could be really good, Harry," said Ron, turning to him with a grin, "You'd could be so good!"
"I… I don't know guys," Harry said hesitantly, and unlike his earlier surprise, it was the truth - he really didn't know if it was a good idea, but all of his reasons against it were things he couldn't tell them about, "Would it just be you guys?"
"Well," Hermione drew the word out, "I was thinking, we could maybe, make a kind of club? For anyone else who wants to come and learn - the whole school is missing out on the opportunity to learn how to defend themselves after all,"
"The whole school? " Harry cried, genuinely aghast - a whole school DA was a terrible idea!
"Okay, maybe not the whole school," she conceded, "Just people who are interested, and who we can trust," Harry chewed his lip contemplatively, "Just, maybe have a think? It could be be amazing Harry," Harry offered her a tight smile, and nodded.
He definitely needed to speak to Draco.