Chapter 14: Fourteen: Classes
Monday morning and the first day of classes drew a groan from the fifth year boys. It got even worse when they were given their schedules. First thing Monday morning was double Potions with the most hated Professor, Snape. As they made their way down to the Common room, Harry followed quietly as his roommates argued about something.
"Will you look at this?" Hermione brandished a piece of parchment in Ron's face. Harry caught sight of it and nearly laughed aloud.
GALLONS OF GALLEONS!
Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?
Like to earn a little extra gold?
Contact Fred and George Weasley,
Gryffindor Common room,
for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs
(WE REGRET THAT ALL WORK IS UNDERTAKEN AT APPLICANTS OWN RISK)
"Something must be done. We will have to speak to them," Hermione continued, not seeing the look of alarm that spread across Ron's face.
"Why?"
"Because we are Prefect's, we have to set an example," Hermione replied, simply making Harry smile as she gathered up the first years, herding them out of the portrait down towards the Great Hall. Harry walked alongside them as the first years peppered him with questions. There were ten Gryffindor's this year, four boys and six girls. Hermione grinned at the flock surrounding him.
"Harry, you were the youngest seeker in 100 years, right?" Mark Evans asked.
"Where did you hear that?"
"Miss Hermione told us, said you were the best that's ever been here," Rhianne, a first year girl replied with a slight sigh. Hermione tried not to laugh at the dreamy look on the girl's face. The bookworm could already tell the young girl had a crush on Harry. Harry, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes at his best friend, who smirked at him.
"I am not sure about the best, but you will have to wait until the second year to try-out for the Quidditch team," Harry got some groans and sighs at that proclamation as he went on to explain some of the dynamics of the game. After breakfast, the fifth year Gryffindors made their way down to the dungeons where they met the Slytherin's.
"Are you going to fail again this year?" Blaise Zambini taunted. Harry just gave him a look like the boy was beneath him, which seemed to infuriate the Slytherin even more. Harry wondered if Draco was right? Was Zambini merely playing a part like Draco? Or was he truly horrible?
"Enter," Snape snapped like he was already having a bad morning. Maybe he did not want Gryffindor's either on Monday morning, Harry thought with an internal laugh, "Now this is your O.W.L. year. Happily, I shall be getting rid of most of you by the summer as most will not pursue NEWT-level potions. Until that joyful day, you will work to my high standards, or I shall make you wish you were never born."
"I wish Snape had never been born," Ron mumbled, for the moment forgetting he was not talking to Harry. Snape heard him, though, giving the redhead a glare.
"Professor McGonagall in her infinite wisdom would like for you all to be partnered with someone from another house, you shall remain with that partner for the rest of the year," Professor Snape explained, earning a small sigh from Harry, "Hermione Granger, Theodore Nott; Lavender Brown, Vincent Crabbe; Parvati Patil, Tracy Davies; Ron Weasley, Blaise Zabini; Neville Longbottom, Daphne Greengrass; Seamus Finnigan, Pansy Parkinson; Dean Thomas, Millicent Bulstrode, and Harry Potter with Draco Malfoy,"
Snape grinned maliciously as he finished the names, not realising Draco had become friends with Harry. Harry snatched up his bag and equipment for show, dumping them on the table next to Draco.
"Malfoy!" Harry huffed. Though they had already made in-roads in the eyes of the school, it did not hurt to make people think they were not friends at this moment. Lucius Malfoy was still a danger until Sirius annulled the marriage.
"Now that we are all comfortable," Snape said sarcastically, "you shall be making Amortentia today."
"That's a NEWT-level Potion," Hermione whispered.
"Five points for speaking out of turn, Professor Dumbledore feels that you are up for the challenge. Now can anyone tell me what it is?" Snape snapped at the witch.
"A love potion!" Hermione called out.
"Calm down," Draco murmured, seeing Harry grip the table, his hands going white.
"Please put your hand up, Miss Granger. That will be another five points from Gryffindor. Now can anyone else tell me what it does?" Theodore Nott, the lanky dark-haired Slytherin, put his hand up.
"Yes, Mister Nott."
"Amortentia is a love potion, a potent one," he explained, sounding bored. "Amortentia does not create true love. But it does cause a powerful infatuation or obsession."
"Five points to Slytherin," Snape replied almost cheerfully for his usual dour self, then looked at them a bit vindictively, "Now I already have some of it made up, Amortentia smells different for everyone, please come up here."
"He is going to try goading you, remember what Sirius said," Draco spoke in the noise of everyone getting up. The small group crowded around the cauldron, which appeared to have a mother-of-pearl sheen to it. Snape looked around the room, then his eyes landed on Hermione and indicated for her to step forward. She brushed the hair out of her face and breathed in deeply.
"So, Miss Granger, care to tell the class what you smell?" Snape smirked.
"I smell freshly mown grass, Broomstick polish and- "Hermione flushed as she faltered, realising she revealed a little too much.
"What else can you smell?" Snape asked, his eyes looking even crueller.
"Treacle Tart," Hermione whispered quietly. The Slytherin contingent all snickered; Harry noticed Draco had plastered on a fake smirk. Ron was glaring at the curly-haired witch.
"Mr Weasley," he invited, and the tall ginger-haired lad stepped forward with a gulp, regretting taking on Potions.
"I smell my mother's cooking, bacon and some sort of perfume," Harry noticed he was flushed; it must be Hermione's perfume he was smelling. Snape turned to Harry, and his eyes lit up with glee; he loved to humiliate the boy he thought was privileged like his father, even worse now that he had found out Sirius was Harry's father. Harry returned his gaze levelly; no longer would this dungeon bat cow him. He stepped up to the cauldron and took a deep breath.
"Smells delightful. I smell Parchment, books, and I get a whiff of something flowery," he answered, and his smirk grew as he added with a lie, "It almost smells like hair gel."
"Everyone back to your cauldron, get started," Snape snarled, beaten at his own game. Over the next 90 minutes, they started to make the Amortentia Potion. Harry had to pretend he and Draco did not get along even though they had worked on potions this complicated together during the summer. They finished with a near-perfect Amortentia getting a sneer from Snape and ten points to Slytherin. Harry, Hermione, and Neville headed back up to the upper levels with Ron trailing behind.
"What an arse! He's positively evil," Ron complained.
"That was not fair of him," Hermione agreed as they climbed out of the dungeons, "He was challenging you, Harry."
"What?" Harry asked absentmindedly, his thoughts entirely elsewhere. The smells Hermione had recited seemed awfully familiar; he wondered whether she liked him as much as he liked her.
"I said, he seemed to be challenging you, and you took the bait."
"I am just not going to let him walk all over me anymore," he answered.
"You need to be careful; why are you so openly defiant?" Hermione asked. Harry ignored her as he noticed Draco heading outside into the sunlight.
"Because I am not an eleven-year-old, people can bully. I will meet you at our Healing class. I need some fresh air," Harry told the young woman.
"I cannot believe he quit divination," was the last thing Harry heard as he moved outside into the sun, enjoying its warmth on his back. He slowly walked along the lake until he reached Draco, who appeared to be staring across the Black Lake.
"If you are going to stand there gawping, you might as well come keep me company," Draco announced loudly.
"How did you realise it was me?" Harry asked.
"Because you sound like a troll stomping about," Draco deadpanned.
"Thanks, blondie, you have a way with words," Harry returned.
"You need to be careful with Snape; he seems to be out for your blood this year," Draco warned.
"He is always out for my blood; he is so biased!"
"Well, you better watch yourself. Otherwise, Granger will dice me up and use me for potion parts," Draco returned, realising he had said a little too much.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, she is your, ah, girlfriend, so of course, she is going to threaten me," Draco swallowed, trying to look anywhere but at his friend.
"Firstly, she is not my girlfriend, not yet anyway," Harry murmured the last bit, getting a massive grin. "Now tell me what you meant?"
"She sort of made me promise to keep an eye out for you," Draco admitted to a goggle-eyed Harry, "Now did you hear what Granger said about her Amortentia? I think she likes you!"
"I am not sure Draco, and you could call her Hermione now," Harry had been completely distracted from Draco's admission.
"I could, but I am walking a tightrope at the moment,"
"Thanks for the other day," Harry said abruptly, "I know it is going to cost you."
"I will still be the prince of Slytherin," Draco answered, "But I am trying to convince them the Blacks are a better side than Riddles. I am doing it carefully, so it does not get reported back to Father."
"Have you heard from your mother?" Harry asked, changing the subject.
"I received an owl this morning from her; she is doing well. Bumbledore has tried contacting her, but mother is ignoring the letters. Apparently, she has been at Grimmauld Place fixing it up and got rid of the portrait of Great Aunt Walburga, though she was reluctant to go," they laughed at the image of the portrait being removed.
"I hated that portrait, as does Sirius,"
"But she was getting a bit shut-in, so Mother has moved to the house in France, even Father does not know about the Black house."
"Are you worried the letter would be intercepted?" Harry asked curiously.
"She used an ancient charm; only I would be able to read it. Everyone else would just get mundane writing."
"Who would think you would be mundane," Harry grinned. Draco drew himself up and looked down his nose at Harry.
"It is because I have been around commoners for far too long," He tried to say but ended up laughing as much as Harry. Suddenly they heard the bell for class.
"We had better go. We have got Healing now," Harry reminded the other boy.
"That will be interesting, Aunt Andi can be quite strict," was Draco's parting shot as they separated, so no one saw the pair of them together.
Harry found the Healing Class interesting with students from all four houses, including himself and Hermione from Gryffindor, Michael Corner from Ravenclaw and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff. Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, and Daphne Greengrass were amongst the small Slytherin contingent. Andromeda began with the basics; all the occupants found the class fascinating, talking together in a circle at the end of the class before Andromeda dismissed them.
"Mister Black, a word if I may?" Andromeda called to him as he shouldered his backpack for lunch.
"I will catch up with you, meet me down in the Great Hall," Harry told Hermione, who gave him a little smile and closed the door behind him.
"How are you doing today?" Andromeda asked.
"It has only been the first morning," Harry replied.
"I heard you had a bit of a run-in with Snape," the healer looked at him curiously.
"Wow, the news certainly works fast."
"It is the Hogwarts rumour-mill," she answered.
"He tried to make me look like a fool, but it backfired on him," Harry replied with an evil grin.
"Something about Amortentia, I hear," Andromeda suggested as a blush rose up on Harry's face.
"Can you give this to dad? I received it yesterday," Harry rummaged around in his bag before handing over the letter from Gringotts. She quickly scanned the letter.
"I am sure Sirius can arrange something; this seems like it is quite urgent."
"I think so."
"Now you had better be off, or your girl will be worried," Andromeda teased,
"Andi, she's not my girl," Harry whined.
"Whatever."
"You and Draco have been watching far too much Muggle Television," Harry sighed as he bid her goodbye heading down to lunch. The Great Hall was noisy when Harry walked through the doors grinning as he headed over to the Gryffindor table. He conjured up his usual chair at the end of the table.
"How was Healing Class? Hermione enjoyed it," Lavender asked, sitting close to Ron.
"It was good. There was no group rivalry despite all houses being represented."
"I'm surprised the Snakes did not try anything," Ron muttered. Harry ignored him, but he was getting increasingly annoyed by the redhead. Since the summer and his outburst, Harry distanced himself from Ron, but the boy did not seem to be getting the message.
"Are we the first group to have Defence?" Harry asked.
"We are," Hermione confirmed.
"This is the worst Monday ever; Potions with the dungeon bat, Divination with a mad bat and then that Umbridge woman," Ron complained while stuffing his face. Hermione and Ceph turned away from him
"We can provide you with a nosebleed nougat cheap if you like," Fred popped up, sitting next to his younger brother.
"Why cheap?" Ron looked between them suspiciously as George sat on the other side. Ceph looked at them eagerly.
"Because you will keep bleeding until you die, we have not perfected the antidote yet," said George cheerfully.
"No, you are not having any of their products," Harry looked at his little brother sternly.
"You're such a spoilsport!" Fred added playfully but got The lookfrom Harry. "OK, no products for little brother."
"Yes, you cannot advertise for testers on the Gryffindor notice board," Hermione pinned them both down with her own look.
"Says who?" asked George, appearing astonished.
"Says me," answered Hermione firmly, "and Ron."
"Leave me out of this," Ron added hastily.
"Some Prefect you are," Hermione muttered.
"You'll be sorry, this is your O.W.L year. They'll be keeping you busier than a niffler after gold," Fred smirked.
"Half our year had mental breakdowns," George added.
"This is Hermione you are talking about. She will have planned her O.W.L year out since the first year," Harry announced proudly, loving the pretty shade Hermione went when she blushed. He then turned to look at the twins sternly. "No advertising on the board; it's word of mouth, the person has to give explicit consent and no under third years."
"But Harry!" the twins protested.
"If you do this, I will think about introducing you two to the Marauder's." Instantly the twins' mouths dropped, then they looked excited, peppering Harry with questions agreeing to his terms. Hermione looked gratefully at him, mouthing a 'thank you.' She wondered why Harry was not the other Gryffindor Prefect.
"Come on, Harry, we need to show the first years to the Transfiguration classroom before we go to Defence," Hermione suggested as Harry finished his lunch. He grabbed up his bag, then followed the other teen in collecting up the first years.
"Can you really become an animal?" Rhianne asked as they left the Great Hall.
"It is called becoming an Animagus and is incredibly dangerous unless you have an expert on hand," Hermione lectured.
"But so cool, my dad is a giant dog while my dad's best friend was a stag." Hermione knew Harry still found it difficult to differentiate between James, his 'foster' dad, and Sirius, his biological dad.
"When can we change?" Ceph asked wide-eyed.
"You have to be at least sixteen, then you will need a proper teacher like Professor McGonagall," Harry replied. Hermione watched as he interacted with the young years, thinking he would make a good dad one day.
"Ah, Mister Black, Miss Granger, I was not expecting you for transfiguration today," Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk as they reached the Transfiguration classroom. She usually liked to surprise the first years.
"We were just showing the first years up to the classroom, so they do not get lost, Ma'am," Harry replied respectfully. Her stern demeanour slipped, and she gave Harry a rare smile.
"Well done, ten points to you and Miss Granger for the initiative. I was sorry you were not made Prefect," the Scottish woman sighed.
"Can I ask, why Harry was not made Prefect?" Hermione questioned, getting an astonished look from Harry. Seeing the first years were occupied, Professor McGonagall answered quietly.
"I was overruled. Mister Black's past misdeeds exclude him from becoming a Prefect." Hermione looked ready to protest, so Harry grabbed her hand. "Speaking of Professor Dumbledore, he would like for you to meet him this evening."
"Has the Headmaster ever asked to meet a student as much?" Hermione asked, which made the transfiguration professor hesitate, thinking about it.
"No, the headmaster is not usually as involved, at least not since James Potter and his group," McGonagall answered.
"Will you be there?" Hermione asked.
"I'm, erm, not sure," Harry had never seen the Professor on her back foot before, but Hermione had done just that.
"As his Head of House and according to the Hogwarts charter when meeting with the Headmaster, a student must be represented by his Head of House," Hermione spouted off like a lawyer. Harry looked appreciatively at Hermione, knowing he did not want to spend time with the Headmaster.
"I intend on being there. I shall let you know at dinner what time the meeting is," McGonagall now sat up straighter as the pair thanked her, then began heading down the corridor towards the Defence classroom.
"Hi, Harry!" It was Cho Chang, but she was on her own, which surprised Harry. Usually, she had a gaggle of girls around her, like when he had tried to ask the other seeker to the Yule ball. He noticed her turn to Hermione frostily. "Granger."
"Did you….er…. have a good summer?" Harry struggled for something to say. He felt different now from when he looked at Cho during his fourth year. Then he realised what he had said, Cedric had been her boyfriend!
"Yeah, I mean, it was OK—" she barely got to say before a loud voice spoke up.
"Is that a tornados badge?" Ron demanded suddenly from behind them. While Ron might have noticed Cho, Harry had been observing Hermione. Suddenly he grinned because he saw Hermione was gripping her wand tightly and glaring at the pretty sixth year. "You don't support them, do you?"
"Yes, I do," Cho replied, so Harry grabbed Hermione's hand, ducking past the girl as the two began to argue.
"Did you see his face?" Harry laughed; aware he was holding Hermione's hand but not willing to drop it.
"That boy is such a moron sometimes," Hermione spoke up, getting a gasp from Harry.
"Miss Granger, are you belittling one of our fellow students?" Harry mocked his friend.
"You idiot," Hermione smacked the boys' arm, getting a grin from him, "Since when did you know big words like belittle?"
"You see, I have this very intelligent friend that I sometimes listen to," he returned with a bow. The pair looked at each other, then began giggling.
"Do I get to hear the joke?" Neville asked, walking up the passage, eyeing their combined hands.
"Nothing, just something Hermione said," Harry guffawed as they followed the rest of their friends into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Professor Umbridge was already seated at her desk. Harry shuddered as he was reminded of a toad in a pink cardigan. Ron came in, complaining loudly about glory supporters.
"Mister Weasley, when you enter my classroom, you shall be quiet. That will be ten points from Gryffindor," Professor Umbridge spoke up, looking at him pointedly. Ron realised that Harry and Hermione had found a table together; he looked around to see the only spare seat was next to Blaise Zambini.
"Now, good afternoon, class!" she said when finally, the whole class had sat down.
A few people mumbled, "Good afternoon," in reply.
"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That will not do. I should like you, please, to reply, 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her.
"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That was not too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
"I have been reviewing your scores and previous teachers; your teaching in this area has been woefully inadequate. A half-blood mongrel was teaching our next generation, absolutely disgraceful," Umbridge stood up, looking around the room. Harry held onto the table, his knuckles white with the strain. Harry had seen her in the Wizengamot in both her trial and the Muggle-born act. She was a genuinely horrible creature.
"Calm down," Hermione whispered. Harry took a breath allowing Hermione's calming presence to wash over him.
"Something to say?" Umbridge looked at the Muggle-born girl with her beady eyes.
"I was just eager to hear your aims, Professor," Hermione blasted the women with a thousand-kilowatt smile.
"Well, good, this year has been carefully structured by the Ministry to help you pass your O.W. L's," the toad continued, a little put out that she had not been able to punish Hermione. Harry quickly wrote down the three aims that she had placed on the board when she spoke up again, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
"Yes, Professor Umbridge," came the muted response. Harry could see the Ministry woman was wrestling with herself about whether to correct the class, but she gave up.
"Good, now I would like for you to turn to page five and read the first chapter," Umbridge instructed. Harry began reading his book, which was incredibly dull. Watching paint dry was more interesting than this. After reading the same passage several times, he looked around, Ron seemed to be half asleep, but he had a surprise as he looked at Hermione. Her Defence book was not even open. She was staring at the Professor with her hand up.
It was almost ten minutes later that Umbridge could no longer ignore Hermione's attempt to get her attention; over half the class were now watching the girl with fascination.
"Is there something you would like to ask about the chapter, dear?" Umbridge asked Hermione, sickly sweet.
"Not about this chapter, no."
"Well then, I'll answer any other questions at the end of the lessons," the toad went to sit down again when Hermione spoke up.
"Actually, I have a question about your course aims." Umbridge appeared shocked, as if no one had ever questioned her before.
"Your name is- "
"Hermione Granger."
"Miss Granger, I believe the aims were perfectly laid out for you and a bright young woman," Umbridge looked like she had swallowed a lemon, "such as yourself will have no problems in understanding them."
"I understand them. However, the aims make no mention of practical magic," Hermione pointed.
"What? We will not be learning practical magic?" Ron shot up.
"Hand, Mr Weasley," Umbridge shouted, a little strained, giving away the fact she knew exactly who they were. "Now the ministry has decided that you can learn everything you know from the theory book."
"Dean Thomas, Ma'am, what about the practical portion of our exams?" the Muggle-born asked, receiving a slight look of disgust from Umbridge.
"Hand, Mr Thomas," Umbridge snapped, "However, I shall answer your question. The Ministry feels that if you complete your theory work, then you should be capable of completing the practical."
"What about in the real world? Theory shall not be good if you are attacked," Harry spoke, now unable to stay silent any longer.
"Pray tell, who do you expect to attack you, Mr Potter?" Umbridge narrowed her eyes.
"My name Lord Rendlesham, Madam Umbridge," Harry sat up straighter, though he felt Hermione's hand on his arm warning him.
"Excuse me?" Umbridge took a step back, confused.
"You may refer to me as Lord Rendlesham, I am not a Potter, but a Black, and my title is the Marquess of Rendlesham, Madam Umbridge."
"Be that as it may, in my class, you are just like your peers MisterBlack," She snarled, finally becoming flustered.
"Then I shall continue to call you Madam Umbridge as you are not an accredited teacher," Harry snapped back, hearing gasps from around the room.
"I do not know where you have heard that from, Mister Black, but the Minister has every bit of faith in me as a teacher," Umbridge returned.
"The Minister is a fool," Harry declared, the room falling silent. "You only finished with Four N.E.W. T's and only an acceptable in Defence Against the Dark Arts. How you can be qualified to teach it, is beyond me."
"You are a liar, a filthy little liar. I don't know where you got your information, but I am more qualified than most of your so-called teachers so far, including that half-breed Lupin," Umbridge told him vindictively. "I shall be putting you in detention for the rest of the week, but you are dismissed from my class."
"Good, I shall speak to His Grace about hiring a real Defence tutor," Harry began throwing his parchment and quills into his bag as Umbridge started to write furiously on a piece of parchment. She thrust it into his hand.
"You shall take this and report to Professor McGonagall." Harry looked at her contemptuously then walked out of the Defence classroom letting the door slam closed on his way out. He knew it was childish, but the woman thoroughly annoyed him. He made it to the Transfiguration and knocked quietly.
"Enter!" Harry put his head around the door, uneasily. He respected the Transfiguration teacher and was worried about her reaction, "Yes, Mr Black, what can we do for you?"
"I was, erm, sent to give you this," Harry replied, now nervous. He had forgotten she was teaching the first years. He crept over, handing his favourite teacher the note. Minerva McGonagall's eyebrows went into her hair as she read the letter, her lips pursed together.
"Right, well, it seems you are at my disposal, so perhaps you can assist me in helping the first years," McGonagall suggested, making him sigh in relief. She directed him to work with a group of first years which included his little brother.
"Can you change into a cat?" Mark asked. He was in a group with Cepheus and two other girls. Thankfully neither of them was Rhianne, the girl he noticed that had a crush on him.
"McGonagall showed you her cat trick?" Harry asked.
"At the beginning of the lesson, because we told her we had been asking you," one of the girls, a blonde pig-tailed girl, explained.
"No, I am not an Animagus, I have other abilities, but one of my friends can turn into a panther," Harry replied, laughing at the awed look on their faces.
"Do you think he could teach us?" Cepheus asked earnestly.
"I told you to wait until sixteen. Besides, you get in trouble enough without changing into an animal," he ruffled his little brother's hair, "Now, what are you doing today?"
"We are learning the transfiguration alphabet. We have these letters," the other girl pointed out the little cards on the table. Harry had a thoroughly enjoyable double lesson helping the first years, all clamouring for his aid.
As the firsties left, they all thanked him, telling Professor McGonagall what a wonderful lesson it was.
"Come," McGonagall snapped at him. He gathered his bag, following the teacher to her office, where she sat him down near the fire. He watched as she threw some Floo powder into the fireplace, having a brief conversation with someone else. He looked around once again enjoying the sight of all the tartan. This time he took notice of the crest on the wall above the fireplace. The 'field' was blue, with a sword in the centre underneath three red circles in a gold box. Harry looked at the metal crest with the circle and swords wondering if one was her father's crest and one was from her mother.
"Were we ever that small?" Harry asked as she stepped away from the fire and began to get the tea set ready.
"Yes, Mr Black, you were that small; quite frankly, you were shorter," McGonagall's lips twitched in a smile, so he knew she wasn't mad at him, "how did you find teaching today?"
"I really enjoyed it," Harry answered honestly.
"You might want to consider teaching when we sit down for our Career Conversation—" Professor McGonagall was cut off as the flames whooshed into a green colour and Andromeda Tonks stepped out of the fireplace.
"Why are you in trouble already?" she asked, making him feel about six-years-old. He secretly loved that he had someone to care for him like this.
"I was not doing it on purpose; she is refusing to teach us practical magic," Harry tried to explain.
"So, you told her she was un-educated and not suitable for the job?" Andromeda tried to remain stern, but he could see the smile creep through.
"She could not get my name right," argued Harry.
"Be that as it may, she has a lot of power at the Ministry, power your father is trying to negate, but you cannot annoy her,"
"Sorry, Andi," Harry looked at his shoes, ashamed,
"Now tell me what you said exactly?" Andromeda laughter soon joined McGonagall's as Harry recited what he had said. Harry looked at the pair astonished; he had never seen the stern Professor laughing so freely.
"I would have loved to have been a cat in the room for that," laughed McGonagall. "Now, I got your letter about lessons on Wizarding culture."
"Having known nothing until this summer about Houses and Ancient and Noble houses, it might be beneficial for first year students," Harry began his spiel. Andromeda looked at him, impressed as she drank her own cup of tea.
"I spoke to Professor Dumbledore about it, but he said we do not have the budget for it this year with taking Andromeda on," the transfiguration teacher told him after he had finished, "he told me to wait until the summer and ask about next year."
"Harry!" Andromeda cried as the teen let out a string of swear words.
"Dumbledore seems to have trouble allowing Muggle-borns integrated into society," Harry suggested darkly.
"The Headmaster has done more for Muggle-borns than anyone," his Head of House looked scandalised.
"Sorry, ma'am, do you have any other suggestions?" the older woman's scowl became a sly grin.
"While the Headmaster may stop formal lessons, there is nothing about clubs," she told him, "I would endorse a club on a Saturday for the younger years to learn about Wizarding culture and Muggle culture."
"Muggle?" Harry asked.
"Yes, I think it would benefit the Purebloods," McGonagall answered. "But I believe you may need help teaching, though."
"I think I can get Hermione on board for help with Muggle culture and perhaps Neville with Susan for the Wizarding World," Harry thought about it.
"I want to see a plan in the next week of what you might teach," the sometimes-stern Professor suggested.
"OK, thanks for the tea, Professor," Harry gathered his stuff and went back to the Gryffindor Common Room where Hermione was waiting for him.
"What happened? Where did you go?" she looked anxious.
"Umbridge sent me to Professor McGonagall, so I ended up helping the first years," he answered, "now I need your help with something."
"OK?" Hermione looked at him curiously.
"Well, Dumbledore shot down my idea for lessons on Wizarding Culture, but Professor McGonagall will endorse a club to teach younger years all about that and Muggle Culture." Hermione almost squealed, pulling the boy into a hug.
"You want my help? Oh, I must go to the library," the bookworm began to list things she would need to do as Harry laughed at her.
"Yes, I want your help with the Muggle side and lesson planning. She wants a plan in a week, but I was going to ask Susan and Neville to help with the Wizarding side," He smiled at the girl.
"That would be a great idea. We need to find Neville and then go to the library," She grabbed Harry's arm pulling him in the direction of the library.
Chapter 15: Fifteen: Detentions, Dates and Deviation
"Good evening, Mister Black," Umbridge spoke, her girlish voice sickly sweet as Harry entered the Defence against the Dark Arts room. He gritted his teeth after being threatened earlier by Andi, with Narcissa Black talking to him. He would be on his best behaviour.
"Professor Umbridge, I have a meeting with Professor Dumbledore this evening," Harry informed the woman.
"Yes, I am aware. Your meeting shall have to wait until your punishment is done," the Ministry stooge announced gleefully. Harry looked around the room, wondering what she had planned for him. With Lockhart, it had been helping with his fan mail.
"What would you like me to do?" Harry asked politely.
"You will be doing lines for me today you will be writing 'I must not tell lies,'" pointing to a table, which held several bits of parchment on it. Harry took a seat in front of the parchment, reaching for his quills and ink. "Oh, you won't be needing them. I have a special quill for you." She handed over a quill of pure black colour, but Harry could sense the Dark magic emanating off it in waves making his stomach roil.
"I have no ink," Harry suggested getting an evil smirk from the witch.
"Oh, don't worry about that. This is a special quill," she answered, then stood over him. He picked up the quill and began to write, 'I must not tell lies.' First, his hand began to itch, then pain lanced across his hand as he wrote. Looking down in shining blood on the back of his hand were the words 'I must not tell lies.' On the parchment written in blood-red ink were the exact words. The words began to fade on his hand, but he stared up at Umbridge in horror as he tried to get up from the seat. However, he could not move.
"This is illegal. This is torture!" Harry shouted.
"Listen, you little brat, I have the confidence of the Minister, and I'm sanctioned to do this," Umbridge snarled.
"I shall tell my father, he will have your job," Harry realised he sounded like Draco, but he now had the power to back it up like the blond.
"Your father is nothing but a common criminal. He'll be back in Azkaban soon," the toad shouted, showering him with spittle.
"You should expect to be going there first," Harry returned.
"If you tell anyone about this, I'll make sure your friend Miss Granger is given to a true pure-blood like Lucious Malfoy or Antonin Dolohov." Harry went quiet; now, he was afraid.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"I am on the Muggle-born registry committee; your friend is still a minor and can be mentored by a pure-blood. If you tell anyone, I will make her life hell," Umbridge threatened. Harry immediately stilled, then picked up the quill as Umbridge watched him carefully. She grinned as he began to write, but he would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him in pain. It was more than an hour later that she felt he could be released for today.
"Remember what I said? I shall see you again tomorrow," the toad-like witch grinned at him as Harry hid his hand away in the hoodie he wore, leaving her behind. He felt ill, light-headed, and nauseous, not to mention furious at the witch and Dumbledore for allowing her to teach at Hogwarts.
"Professor McGonagall, I am ready for my meeting with the Headmaster," Harry knocked on the transfiguration room door a few moments later. The professor looked up at him as he entered.
"Are you well? You look a bit pale," Professor McGonagall commented as she waved her wand, putting away all the parchment on her desk.
"Yes, Professor, just was not really hungry at dinner," Harry responded.
"Very well, but if you start to feel worse, come see me this evening," the usually stern Professor told him warmly as she began to lead Harry towards the Headmaster's office. At the stone gargoyle, she muttered the password with a roll of her eyes. The Deputy Headmistress knocked on the door of Professor Dumbledore's office, receiving an 'enter.'
Harry entered the Headmaster's office, which he had frequented many times, but the office seemed almost silent. The widgets that usually whirred and whizzed were unusually quiet; even Fawkes looked solemn, staring at Harry from his golden perch. Professor Dumbledore, himself, sat behind his desk with hands steepled, observing Harry over his half-moon glasses. He gave a grandfatherly-like smile, but Harry immediately avoided his eyes, thus finding Severus Snape standing next to the desk.
"Thank you for bringing Mister Potter, Minerva, you may leave now," Dumbledore immediately turned back to Harry as if dismissing his Deputy. Harry's anger grew, first for not using his correct name and secondly for ignoring his Head of House.
"I am sorry, Headmaster, but as his Head of House, I am required to be here per Hogwarts rules," Professor McGonagall finally grew a backbone, Harry thought, trying not to grin. "I would also ask you to call my charge by his proper name, Lord Rendlesham."
"Right, erm, Lord Rendlesham, as you are essential to the war, I think it is in your best interest to learn Occlumency from Professor Snape," the Headmaster began, "you shall have lessons in the dungeons, but it will be called Remedial Potions. Of course, you can tell Mister Weasley, Miss Granger and Miss Weasley."
"No!" Harry simply said. He had not even been invited to sit down, just immediately told he had lessons with the dungeon bat.
"Excuse me," Dumbledore blinked at him, astonished the boy had stopped him.
"Professor Dumbledore, I came up here expecting to discuss something about my classwork or education as is your per view. However, you wish to discuss joining in the war. Are you deliberately trying to create child soldiers?" Harry asked, a little short. The pain in his hand seemed to be getting worse. "You are my Headmaster. If you wish to discuss my education, then call me to your office, but anything else, you will have to speak to my guardian or my father."
"Show the Headmaster some respect," Snape snapped out.
"I am Professor. I have no wish to join your little bird club or participate in this war. I want to live a normal life with my friends," Harry responded.
"But you are vital- "Dumbledore began but was immediately cut off.
"I do not care, I am tired of this damn war and the prejudice that people show. I just want to finish my education, if you cannot let me do that, then it might be time to look at another school elsewhere," Harry replied angrily before leaving the office. He felt even worse now. Harry just wanted to find his bed. He stomped into the Gryffindor Common Room, not even speaking to Hermione or Cepheus, who tried to call him. Throwing off his clothes, he fell into bed, curling up into a ball and promptly passed out.
"How many did Professor McGonagall say were coming?" Harry asked. He was tired and kept shivering every now and again. He figured it was from the blood loss every night.
"Twenty or so from first through fourth years," Hermione reminded the boy, looking at him critically, "are you ok? You look a bit peaky?"
"Yes, probably coming down with something. I will see Aunt Andi after we finish here," Harry answered. He leaned up against the table, completely ignoring Narcissa, who wanted to watch the first club meeting and Cepheus, who had finished his first lesson with Narcissa. Draco had wanted to linger but knew he could not. A few minutes later and a group of about thirty or so students entered. Narcissa extended the room.
"Welcome to the Introduction to the Wizarding World Club; as you are all Muggle-born, you may not especially know much about your new world except the education you have had inside of Hogwarts. Now before I get started, are there any questions?" Harry looked around. "No, then who can tell me what the Wizengamot are?" He had several hands up, picking a first year Hufflepuff girl.
"Rose Zeller, sir, the Wizengamot are the high courts of Wizarding Britain and the ones that create the laws," the girl answered, reminding Harry of Hermione.
"Well done, I would give you points if I could," Harry made the class chuckle. "The wizarding world of Great Britain is governed by the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot. The Wizengamot is made up of the Ancient and Noble, Ancient, and Noble Houses. Order of Merlin Recipients and Heads of Ministry Departments including the Minister of Magic. However, our real history begins with the Magical Houses of Great Britain."
"Mister Black why is this not taught in History with Binns?" a fourth-year student asked.
"I could not tell you," Harry responded though he could guess.
"Before the tenth century, Great Britain's coexisted as one Magical and Muggle, many of our magical forebears were great Houses, for example, the Black's, Peverell's, Longbottom's, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Pendragon or Selwyn. Of course, there were minor houses such as the Bones, Bulstrode, and later the Malfoy family. But initially, fifty Houses came together to create the Wizarding council as Magical beings began to separate and hide from the Muggle," Neville assumed the narration.
"The Wizarding council was chartered in the 993AD; its first Chairperson was Godric Gryffindor. Over time, some of the houses died out until only six existed as Ancient and Noble Houses, with others taking up Ancient or Noble titles." Susan continued.
"In 1707, the Ministry of magic was formed with part of the Wizarding Council Charter enshrined in its history. The Wizengamot was made up of fifty Houses and eight council members when they first met to set our land laws. There are a lot of traditions that go back to the Wizards Councils and the Old Families, such as snubbing someone by refusing to shake their hand; this can cause a Blood Feud…." Harry continued explaining more about the Houses and Ministry in their current forms.
"How did you find that?" Harry asked Cepheus as everyone was leaving; he noted first year Rose was leaving with Dennis Creevey.
"Not as boring as Binn's," he shrugged.
"Professor Binns," Hermione automatically said.
"He is a ghost," Ceph returned.
"How are you getting on?" Narcissa asked.
"I wish everyone would stop asking me that," Harry muttered as the woman closed the door.
"Now that it has been a few weeks, we wondered if you have made any in-roads with the heirs?" the blonde woman asked ignoring his mutterings.
"They came to me in the first weekend. Now that Ron is not in the way as much, I could get a meeting with them. I have already got oaths from the old Potter alliance," Harry replied happily.
"Good. Sirius, Andromeda, and I have all been using any influence we have, to talk to several Wizengamot members. I shall direct him towards the current Lords and ladies of the old alliance," she agreed, "but we need more allies."
"Susan had a suggestion for that," Harry shrugged. "However, Draco is working the Slytherin angle."
"I hope he will be careful, I do worry," Narcissa frowned.
"I will keep an eye out for him," Harry reassured the woman he had come to respect. She thanked him and left. Harry turned to Ceph, "how have you found your first lesson with Narcissa? About the Black family History."
"Aunt Cissy is amazing; she is great at telling our history." Harry grinned at the boys' enthusiasm as they left the classroom towards dinner.
Ministry Seeks Educational Reform
Dolores Umbridge Appointed first-ever 'High-Inquisitor.'
In a surprise move last night, the Ministry of Magic passed legislation known as Educational Decree 23, appointing the popular Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Dolores Umbridge as High Inquisitor. The Inquisitor will have the powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure they are up to scratch. Dolores Umbridge recently left her post as Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic to….
Hermione had had one of the best birthdays she could recall despite worrying about her best friend. She had woken this morning to find a bouquet of pale pink roses on her bedside table. A simple note had indicated it was Harry who had somehow left them there.
A bunch of Hermione roses for my favourite Hermione. Yours, Harry.
Lavender and Parvati had cooed over them, as had most of the rest of the Gryffindor girls except Ginny Weasley, who kept shooting her dirty looks. When Hermione had gone down to breakfast, Harry had been talking to the third year Robin but quickly smiled when he saw her giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek and wishing her 'Happy Birthday.' During Breakfast, Professor Dumbledore had announced a Defence Club in the Great Hall 'to supplement Madam Umbridge's excellent teaching' starting Thursday. Hermione had been awarded twenty points in Charms and another ten in transfiguration. Even Professor Grubbly-'Plan's lesson on bow-truckles had made her happy. Now she was standing in the Common Room before dinner in her favourite blue dress.
"Happy Birthday," Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet both said as they passed her on the way to dinner. Harry had asked her to wear something nice and wait for him before dinner. Lately, she had taken to wearing Muggle clothing just to annoy the pure-bloods like Blaise Zambini, Marcus Flint, and Cormac McClaggen, who had recently started leering at her.
Harry looked at himself in the mirror once again, making sure the green jumper was lint-free.
"You look lovely," the mirror commented.
"Thank you," Harry replied, sweeping his hair back and tying it up away from his face. He took one last look in the mirror, then left the dorm room. He growled when he noticed the sixth year Cormac McClaggen leaning towards Hermione.
"You look wonderful tonight; perhaps you'll allow me to escort you to dinner," Cormac was saying, his voice as slick as a snake-charmer.
"I am waiting for someone," Hermione squeaked as he leaned in closer.
"If it's Potter, you could do so much better than him," Cormac winked.
"It is Black, McClaggen, and last time I looked, my family was older and more extensive than yours," Harry's voice rolled across the Common room. The sixth year instantly moved back several steps and looked at the younger boy. "Maybe Angelina was wrong; your hands are everywhere. Next time you touch Hermione, your hands will disappear."
"Watch yourself, Black; there are more important people out there than you," Cormac looked a little green as he stuttered.
"There are, but you are not one of them," Harry stepped up to Hermione. Though as he looked up at the sixth year, the boy was still cowed by Harry's bright green eyes and the aura surrounding him. Harry looked at Hermione, offering his arm. "Shall we, Milady?"
"Thank you, kind sir," she replied, demurely acting. Harry tried not to laugh as they walked past the flabbergasted boy. They both broke down laughing when the Fat Lady closed behind them, although that soon changed when Harry led them up the corridor rather than down towards the Great Hall. "Where are you taking me?"
"I know you got your presents from the others earlier, but this is my present," Harry gave her a secretive grin. Ron had just got her a box of chocolates from Honeydukes; Neville had given her a set of books on wildflowers and their uses in potions (She was looking forward to reading these); Draco had snuck her a beautiful eagle feathered quill and ink. Parvati and Lavender had gotten her a one-year subscription to Witch Weekly. She had rolled her eyes but murmured thank you, regardless.
"Those flowers were enough," Hermione told him as he led her further down the corridor until they reached a stone wall. On the other side was a tapestry of Barnabus, the barmy teaching trolls to ballet. "Harry, what?"
"Quiet, one moment," Harry shushed her, then proceeded to walk past the spot three times until a door materialised in front of them. The bookworm stared at the door in disbelief, "This is called the Room of Requirement or Come and Go Room, Dobby told me about it."
"Amazing," Hermione breathed as Harry opened the door for her, and she walked through the door into…. France. She was standing in an empty Parisian restaurant with balconies overlooking some of Paris's most significant landmarks. Harry led her over to the one table with a lit candle next to the open balcony doors. A warm breeze came from outside, and she could almost hear the noise of the street below. A bright moon hung in the sky. Harry pulled out a chair for her, then took one opposite for himself. With a POP, Dobby appeared looking like a small waiter.
"Mister Black's Hermy bes having Beef Tenderloin Brochette to start," the little elf squeaked in an almost perfect high-pitched French accent. He put the plate of tenderloin skewered by red & green peppers with onions. Hermione simply did not have words as the pair tucked into the delicious starter. After they had finished the starter, Dobby and Winky bought the main meal of Savoury Chicken Provençal, seared chicken coated with Pistachio pesto.
"Finally, for Desert Tarte Au Citron," Winky told her after they had finished their delicious main meal. Hermione had barely spoken during the meal, savouring the beautiful food that had been cooked for her. She smiled at Harry over the lemon tart.
"Why?" was all she could ask as she savoured the zingy pâtisserie treat.
"You have always talked about your love of France, so for your birthday, I thought I would bring a taste of France to Hogwarts," Harry answered, leaning back on his chair.
"Oh, thank you, this was such a wonderful idea," Hermione gushed; he could see her eyes getting a little wet.
"I have thoroughly enjoyed it and the sights," somehow, Hermione got the feeling he was not talking about the French landmarks. They settled into a comfortable silence as they finished their deserts.
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked tentatively. She had noticed he had been quieter the last two weeks and paler than usual.
"Of course, why?" Harry looked at her, trying to appear confused. He had had detention for a second week in a row when he questioned the slightest thing. His hand, partially hidden by the long jumper sleeves, was raw.
"You have been very distant with everyone; you have barely spoken to Ceph, who is desperate to get to know you. You also look very tired, often going to bed straight after your detention with Umbridge," Hermione came awfully close to knowing the truth, so he thought a little misdirection would be helpful.
"Do you remember the first day of classes? I was supposed to have a meeting with Dumbledore," Hermione nodded, "I knew it was nothing to do with classes. Still, the Headmaster wanted me to take Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape, then when I refused, he went off to say I was important in the war."
"How dare he, you are fifteen years old! You should be out enjoying yourself, being a teenager, having a girlfriend," Her face flushed at the last comment, which Harry noticed.
"I told him that I was not going to have anything to do with the Order of the Phoenix," Harry explained.
"Oh, Harry," she teared up a little as she looked at the dark-haired boy in front of her.
"Now, it is time you had your present. Can you do me a favour and meet me out on the balcony?" He asked with a wide smile.
"Of course, but you should not have gotten me anything more; this was enough," Hermione chided Harry. She did follow through with his instructions and went out onto the balcony. The bookworm could see the streets below like she was in Paris on a warm summer night, not in Scotland in the winter. She felt his breath on her neck, sending pleasant shivering up her spine. Harry brushed the hair away from her neck then she felt the touch of cold on her throat as the other teen put a necklace on her. She lifted the silver pendant up; it was of a raven but with sapphires for an eye.
"Beautiful," she breathed.
"It has some mild protection charms on it, which should stop medium-range hexes and curses. But it is my family's emblem, which I hope will protect and guide you too," Harry finished. She turned to look at him; Harry was a couple of inches taller than Hermione now. She looked at the green-eyed boy as he stared right back into her brown eyes. Time seemed to stop as she moved closer, then her petal-soft lips touched his. Harry's eyes widened as he realised what was happening before he closed them and threw himself into the kiss, tightening his arms around her. Harry gently pulled away as if in a dream, staring at the freckles on her nose.
"Are you sure?" He asked her softly.
"Absolutely, I have liked you for years," her voice trembled as she admitted her feelings for him.
"So have I, I realised recently how much you mean to me, and I want you by my side," Harry realised how mushy that sounded.
"You will always have me by your side, whether we are a couple," she blushed brightly, "or not."
"Well, Miss Granger, would you do me the honour of being my girlfriend?" Harry asked, getting a massive smile from her. She threw herself back into his arms, their lips meeting once again for a more heated kiss. After several minutes, the bushy-haired girl pulled away, turning to look out into the Parisian skyline. The boy put his arms around Hermione, and she placed her hands over his. As her thumbs rubbed against the back of Harry's hand, she felt raised scars as he hissed in pain.
"What?" she asked, confused as she turned to look at him.
"Hermione, it is nothing. I, erm, just caught my hand," Harry lied, knowing she would see through him but trying anyway.
"Show me, Harry," Hermione spoke in her sternest voice. Harry knew he could not resist, so he slowly revealed his hand, which had 'I shall not tell lies' beginning to scar on it. "Who did this?"
"Madam Umbridge, in detention. I must use a special quill that draws my blood," Harry replied dully. Hermione once again embraced Harry.
"That evil witch, we are going to see McGonagall," She drew away from her arms, intent on going to see the deputy headmistress. He grabbed her hand.
"Please, Hermione, no, she threatened me. Told me if I complained to anyone, you would be the first on the list to become a mentee to Lucius Malfoy or Antonin Dolohov," Harry told her desperately. Her face dropped.
"You took this for me," she whispered, then lunged at Harry. Her lips found his hungrily. He could feel her body close to his, her soft curves moulding into his quidditch-hardened muscles on his chest. She grabbed his hand, marching him towards the door.
"We cannot go to McGonagall," Harry told her desperately.
"No, but we are going to Andromeda. I do not care if she tells your father, but you are so pale and withdrawn because of the loss of blood," Hermione told him, dragging the reluctant teen through the castle to the Hospital ward. She called out to Madam Tonks as soon as the door closed. The tall, dark-haired women emerged from her private quarters.
"Harry? You have not injured yourself, have you? I noticed you have looked a bit peaky the last few nights," His pseudo-aunt looked at him, worried, seeing the pale face and dark bags under his eyes. She did notice the way the self-confessed bookworm and Harry's best friend was holding his hand. She just won two galleons from Minerva. She also noticed the girl was looking around the ward to see if they were on their own.
"Madam Tonks, Harry needs a blood-replenishing potion and some dittany," she released in one breath. Andromeda looked at the girl in worry.
"Come with me," she led the pair through to her private quarters into the front room, which had been comfortably set up. "Now, do you want to tell me what is going on?"
"Madam Umbridge has been torturing Harry," Hermione revealed, shoving Harry's hand at the Healer. Harry fought to pull his hand back instinctively. He was not happy with Hermione, he had been trying to protect her, and now Harry's dad would get involved.
"Oh my," Andromeda gently took Harry's hand, scrutinising it. Around the words, the skin was bright red. "I think this might be infected; how long has this been going on for?"
"Erm, apart from the weekends since the first day of class," Harry whispered. The older witch sharply looked at him and then pulled out her wand, performing a diagnostic spell on him.
"Your iron is low, you have lost a lot of blood, and you definitely have not been eating correctly. Do not argue with me, young man. I was watching you picking at your food." Harry had a look like he was going to argue with her but looked at his feet instead. This was just like when she had first met the boy after his abuse had been revealed. "You are lucky you have come to me now, or…"
"How serious would it be, Madam Tonks?" Hermione asked, holding his other hand.
"Please call me Aunt Andi; I have a feeling we shall be seeing a lot of you," she nodded to the pair of them holding hands. Hermione blushed as Harry looked up, grinning a little bit, "Now it could be serious, another week or two, and Harry could have been deathly ill, especially as he was not getting enough nourishment."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione shuddered. The boy just pulled her into his side, cuddling her as Andromeda went off to get various potions and poultices. The older woman returned, directing him to sit at a small kitchen table. She put some liquid into a grey bowl, placing it on the table.
"Submerge your hand in that while you drink these," Harry immediately followed her instructions, knowing from experience not to argue. The teen hissed as his hand became submerged, but soon it soothed and cooled the flaming around the back of his hand. First, Andromeda handed him a blood-red liquid in a vial standing over him until the boy drank it all, then gave him another few vials making sure he swallowed them.
"What are you giving him?" Hermione asked, ever curious.
"Well, he had a blood replenishing potion as well as something to boost the iron in his blood. Harry was also given a nutrition potion," Andromeda glared at the teen, not pleased he had not been eating correctly. "You will need to keep that in there for a few hours, then we shall bandage it up. You will be staying overnight and missing your classes tomorrow."
"Really, do I have to?" Harry whined, then looked nervous, "What are you going to tell everyone? If Umbridge finds out, Hermione is in danger."
"We will tell everyone that you have the flu, and that is why you have been under the weather lately," the Healer told him. "Now, I am going to have to Floo your father; he needs to know."
"No," Harry cried out.
"Do not argue with me!" was the reply, and Harry knew not to debate with the formidable woman.
"Have you heard from Madam Pomfrey?" Harry tried to change the subject.
"She has gone to America to stay with some relatives there, the White's I believe," Andromed replied, "Now, I know what you are trying and it will not work. I am contacting your father!"
Sirius Black was furious; even Remus could not calm him down. They strode through the atrium of the Ministry towards the first Wizengamot meeting of the winter. After being summoned to Hogwarts the night before by his cousin, he heard Madam Umbridge's story of the toad torturing his eldest son. He was now out for blood. Remus managed to direct him to the Black Wizengamot office, where Amelia Bones and Narcissa were waiting.
"What happened?" Amelia asked, taking one look at the fuming Sirius.
"Fucking Ministry, fucking Fudge, we need to get him out of the Wizengamot," Sirius snapped, getting a hushed gasp from Narcissa. Sirius rarely used swear words and did not use Muggle ones.
"You know why that cannot happen? We are still getting evidence on Dumbledore. Which is worse, Dumbledore or Fudge?" Amelia asked him calmly, then began rubbing his arms. Remus shared a look with Narcissa. He knew the pair had been meeting but did not realise they had become this friendly again.
"Yeah, alright," Sirius seemed to slump down into his chair.
"Now, are you going to tell us what happened?" Amelia asked, rubbing his shoulders. Sirius proceeded to tell them about his meeting with Andromeda, Harry, and Hermione the night before. How Madam Umbridge had been torturing Harry and threatening him with Hermione's life.
"I think we need to propose an educational reform of our own," Remus mused, but Sirius sat up.
"Rem, that's a brilliant idea," Sirius said, "If we can somehow manoeuvre the Ministry into making a new decree, then we might be able to protect Harry."
"Are any other's being tortured?" Amelia asked, steely-eyed.
"Hermione mentioned Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins' best friend, had detention with Umbridge," Sirius answered.
"I will have a team investigate when we go after the Minister," Amelia said before promptly leaving the office. The other three looked at each other, unsure what was going on until ten minutes later Amelia arrived back with Madam Marchbanks in tow.
"Your Grace, Mr Lupin, Lady Malfoy, it is a pleasure to see you. Now, what can I do for you?" the head of the Department for Education was very much like Regent Longbottom.
"Madam, it has come to my attention recently the discipline at Hogwarts is inadequate," Sirius spoke carefully, trying to word the proposition right, "I have evidence from the last several years that the Slytherin Head is heavily biased when doling out detention. Slytherin students who get detention will only have light work whereas other houses will either get detention with Caretaker Filch or made to do horrid tasks."
"Well, this will not do. While the Ministry pushing themselves on Hogwarts was not my idea, it may well help the Board of Governors make some changes," Griselda Marchbanks took a seat, resting her body.
"Oh?" Sirius prodded her.
"Yes, while the Board has lots of power, the Headmaster has the right to overrule us, especially on hiring, firing and disciplinary matters," She explained, not noticing the grins on the face of the other three adults. "He has been making it difficult to change things within Hogwarts for many years. We think poor Minerva has too much on her shoulders as Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor house."
"Really? She manages it so well," Narcissa spoke up.
"Bless her, that woman is a wonder, but the board wonders if Minera might be neglecting her lions. Not on purpose," Madam Marchbanks assured the other three as she saw the protest on their faces. "His Grace, the Duke of Cumberland, has put your son as an example. The Department has recently begun to hear a lot of tales of occurrences over the last four years."
"Yes, he has been through an awful lot of adventures," Remus commented. Sirius considered the information he had just been given; Cyrus Greengrass was on the Board of Governors. He was yet again using Harry to highlight Hogwarts failures. It would soon be time to speak to the Duke of Cumberland and find out his intentions.
"So, what are you going to do?" Sirius asked.
"The Governors and I decided that after this term, we are going to ask Minerva to step down at Deputy. To be honest, I think she prefers the teaching and looking after her lions, but Albus always leaving means she must run the school," Griselda told the assembled group, frankly.
"Who will you have take over?" Remus asked curiously.
"Filius Flitwick, the Board will ask him to take over the Deputy position while Septima Vector takes over as Ravenclaw Head of House." Sirius thought this was quite clever; it might enable Minerva to keep an eye on Harry. He often wondered how Minerva came to be practically running the school while Albus was doing his ICW and Wizengamot duties. At the same time, she was also Head of House Gryffindor and still taught transfiguration.
"That sounds like a good idea," Sirius said out loud.
"Thank you for bringing this to me. If you would excuse me, I must gather the Board together before the Wizengamot," The older lady bid them all a goodbye, then left them to discuss this latest change. While they were trying to effect change, they had a lot of opposition in the Wizengamot, which was a point to them.
"I apologise for dragging you all here early, but seen as I am here, I need to fill out some paperwork," Sirius looked at Narcissa and Remus.
"What paperwork have you got?" Remus looked at him suspiciously, but Sirius grinned like he was planning the greatest prank ever.
"You will have to see," Sirius offered his arm up to Amelia, leaving the pair none the wiser.
"Good Morning Lords and Ladies, Heads of Departments, and the public, welcome to the first Wizengamot session of the winter season. I will remind you all this is a Wizengamot session; only those of the Wizengamot or experts invited by Wizengamot members may speak. If the public galleries cannot control themselves, I will make this a closed session," Tiberius Ogden warned them sternly as he looked around the chambers. It was not as busy today as the last session due to being during the school year. There were some proxies in chairs for those who worked. "Now, Scribe, do you have any public announcements?"
"Yes, Sir," Percy Weasley spoke out, then continued in a distinctly strangled voice. "William Weasley has acceded to Lord Weasley after Arthur Weasley stepped down; this has now been formally ratified with the Heritage Department."
"Congratulations, it has been explained to you what to expect and how to behave?" Tiberius asked the eldest Weasley. The Weasley boy nodded and settled back in his chair.
"His Grace, The Duke of Anglia, would like to announce his second-born child has been discovered and wishes to formally declare the child, Cepheus Orion Black, the Lord Black," Weasley resumed, getting a lot of whispers. The Chief warlock noticed Sirius turning to look at Dumbledore, whose mask slipped a little. "Finally, the Department of Education and Family Services would like to announce Educational Decree Twenty-three and Twenty-Four. Dolores Umbridge has been appointed as the High Inquisitor."
"Now, before we begin our scheduled topics, does anybody wish to declare anything?"
"Excuse me, Chief Warlock, I have not been informed of Educational Decree Twenty-four. Would the DEFS care to elaborate?" Minister Fudge interrupted on the back foot.
"Madam Marchbanks, perhaps you would care to enlighten the minister so we may continue with today's subjects?" Ogden asked with a twinkle in the eye.
"Ah, it is such a minor thing we did not think it would be right to bother you with. Educational Twenty-Four states that in the case of discipline at Hogwarts, the misbehaved student is disciplined by his or her head of House," Griselda explained with a wild smile.
"Thank you, Madam. Does anybody wish to declare anything?"
"I would like to announce the birth of my daughter's son, Emmet Clarence Travers, who has been named as my heir after the loss of my son," Sir Clarence Travers announced.
"Lost? He is in jail for murdering innocents," Sirius muttered, getting a small laugh from Regent Longbottom.
"Congratulations, Sir Travers, may the child be blessed with long life and great ability," Tiberius intoned. Sirius stood up so the Chief Warlock indicated he could speak.
"As you know, I have recently become the Head of the Black Family. Due to breaking the sacred bonds created during the marriage, I have dissolved the marriage between Rodolphus Lestrange and Bellatrix Black. I have informed Gringotts, and the Bride Price is being reclaimed. Furthermore, Bellatrix Black has been disowned from the House of Black. She will be known as Bellatrix No-name from this day forth," Sirius started getting gasps from the gallery and some surprised noises from the Houses. "House of Black is also dissolving the marriage between Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black—"
"You cannot do that without talking to me first," Sir Malfoy shouted, looking at his, now, ex-wife in the public gallery. The room erupted in shouts.
"Order, order!" Ogden shouted, firing off fireworks to eventually get order. Once quiet, he indicated that Sirius continue though he was not sure if he wanted the man to continue.
"I have filed the correct paperwork with the Department of Heritage, signed by a judge for Gross Indiscretions," Sirius sent a duplicate to the Chief Warlock, who was trying not to smile. Everyone knew Gross Indiscretions was code for taking the Dark Mark. Though Malfoy claimed to be Imperiused, it was enough to have his marriage dissolved. "Again, the Goblins of Gringotts shall be Reclaiming the Bridal Price. Lastly, Narcissa's son Draco has been adopted into the House of Black."
"You filthy mongrel, you do not deserve the name Black!" Lucius Malfoy shouted as all hell broke loose. There was lots of shouting as Minister Fudge tried to slump down in his chair. He would lose his 'donations' from Sir Malfoy after the man lost his gold to Black and his support as Minister. This would be another nail in his coffin; perhaps he ought to start buttering up Black. Tiberius looked over at Narcissa, who was now leaving the chambers with a smile on her face.
"Sir Lucius, that will be quite enough, you may contest both with Family Services, but for now, I will ask you to take your seat so we may continue," Tiberius Ogden drew himself up to his full height looking at the blond sternly.