Dinner in the Great Hall that night was not a pleasant experience for Y/n. The news about his and Harry's shouting match with Umbridge had travelled exceptionally fast even by Hogwarts' standards. They heard whispers all around as he sat eating next to Hermione. The funny thing was that none of the whisperers seemed to mind either of them overhearing what they were saying about the two. On the contrary, it was as though they were hoping one would get angry and start shouting again, so that they could hear the story first hand.
"He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered... "
"He reckons he dueled with You-Know-Who..."
"Come off it..."
"Who does he think he's kidding?"
"Pur-lease..."
"He's just covering for himself."
"They say he did it you know..."
"What I don't get." said Harry through clenched teeth, laying down his knife and fork as his hands were shaking too much to hold them steady. "Is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them..."
"The thing is, Harry, I'm not sure they did." said Hermione grimly. "Oh, let's get out of here."
She slammed down her own knife and fork. Y/n pushed his half-eaten dinner forward and got up. Ron looked longingly at his half-finished apple pie but followed suit. People stared at them all the way out of the Hall.
"What d'you mean, you're not sure they believed Dumbledore?" Harry asked Hermione when they reached the first-floor landing.
"Look, you don't understand what it was like after it happened." said Hermione quietly. "You and Y/n arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body...none of us saw what what happened in the maze...we just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you."
"Which is the truth!" said Harry loudly.
"I know it is, Harry, so will you please stop biting my head off?" said Hermione wearily. "It's just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase, Y/n's a murderer and Dumbledore's going senile!"
Rain pounded on the windowpanes as they strode along the empty corridors back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry glanced out of a rain-washed window at the dark grounds as they turned into the Fat Lady's corridor. There was still no light in Hagrid's cabin.
"Mimbulus mimbletonia." said Hermione, before the Fat Lady could ask. The portrait swung open to reveal the hole behind it and the four of them scrambled through it.
The common room was almost empty, nearly everyone was still down at dinner. Noctis and Crookshanks uncoiled themselves from one another on an armchair and trotted to meet them, purring loudly, and when Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione took their four favorite chairs at the fireside Noctis leaped lightly onto Y/n's lap and curled up there like a furry black cushion. Y/n gazed into the flames, feeling drained and exhausted.
"How can Dumbledore have let this happen?" Hermione cried suddenly, making Harry and Ron jump as she pounded the arms of her chair in fury, so that bits of stuffing leaked out of the holes. "How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our OWL year, too!"
"Well, we've never had great Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we?" said Harry.
"We had Professor Lupin in third year." Y/n quickly reminded him as he began to stroke Noctis.
"Yes, but you know what it's like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job, they say it's jinxed." Harry said.
"But to employ someone who's actually refusing to let us do magic! What's Dumbledore playing at?" Hermione said.
"And she's trying to get people to spy for her." said Ron darkly. "Remember when she said she wanted us to come and tell her if we hear anyone saying You-Know-Who's back?"
"Of course she's here to spy on us all, that's obvious, why else would Fudge have wanted her to come?" snapped Hermione.
"Don't start arguing again." said Harry wearily, as Ron opened his mouth to retaliate. "Can't we just....let's just do that homework, get it out of the way..."
They collected their schoolbags from a corner and returned to the chairs by the fire. People were coming back from dinner now. Y/n sensed the stares he and Harry were attracting.
"Shall we do Snape's stuff first?" said Ron, dipping his quill into his ink. "The properties...of moonstone...and its uses...in potion-making..." he muttered, writing the words across the top of his parchment as he spoke them. "There." He underlined the title, then looked up expectantly at Y/n and Hermione. "So, what are the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making?"
But Hermione was not listening, she was squinting over into the far corner of the room, where Fred, George and Lee Jordan were now sitting at the centre of a knot of innocent-looking first-years, all of whom were chewing something that seemed to have come out of a large paper bag that Fred was holding.
"No, I'm sorry, they've gone too far." she said, standing up and looking positively furious. "Come on, Ron."
"I...what?" said Ron, plainly playing for time. "No...come on, Hermione...we can't tell them off for giving out sweets."
"You know perfectly well that those are bits of Nosebleed Nougat or...or Puking Pastilles or..."
"Fainting Fancies, by the looks of it." Y/n said as one by one, as though hit over the head with an invisible mallet, the first-years were slumping unconscious in their seats, some slid right on to the floor, others merely hung over the arms of their chairs, their tongues lolling out.
Most of the people watching were laughing, Hermione, however, squared her shoulders and marched directly over to where Fred and George now stood with clipboards, closely observing the unconscious first-years. Ron rose halfway out of his chair, hovered uncertainly for a moment or two, then muttered to Y/n and Harry, "She's got it under control." before sinking as low in his chair as his lanky frame permitted.
"That's enough!" Hermione said forcefully to Fred and George, both of whom looked up in mild surprise.
"Yeah, you're right." said George, nodding. "this dosage looks strong enough, doesn't it?"
"I told you this morning, you can't test your rubbish on students!" Hermione said furious.
"We're paying them"' said Fred indignantly.
"I don't care, it could be dangerous!"
"Rubbish." said Fred.
"Calm down, Hermione, they're fine!" said Lee reassuringly as he walked from first-year to first-year, inserting purple sweets into their open mouths.
"Yeah, look, they're coming round now." said George.
A few of the first-years were indeed stirring. Several looked so shocked to find themselves lying on the floor, or dangling off their chairs, that Y/n was sure Fred and George had not warned them what the sweets were going to do.
"Feel all right?" said George kindly to a small dark-haired girl lying at his feet.
"I...I think so." she said shakily.
"Excellent." said Fred happily, but the next second Hermione had snatched both his clipboard and the paper bag of Fainting Fancies from his hands.
"It is NOT excellent!"
"Course it is, they're alive, aren't they?" said Fred angrily.
"You can't do this, what if you made one of them really ill?"
"We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same..."
"If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to..."
"Put us in detention?" said Fred, in an I'd like to see you try it voice.
"Make us write lines?" said George, smirking.
Onlookers all over the room were laughing. Hermione drew herself up to her full height, her eyes were narrowed and her bushy hair seemed to crackle with electricity.
"No." she said, her voice quivering with anger. "But I will write to your mother."
"You wouldn't." said George, horrified, taking a step back from her.
"Oh, yes, I would." said Hermione grimly. "I can't stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you're not to give them to the first-years."
Fred and George looked thunderstruck. It was clear that as far as they were concerned, Hermione's threat was way below the belt. With a last threatening look at them, she thrust Fred's clipboard and the bag of Fancies back into his arms, and stalked back to her chair by the fire.
Ron was now so low in his seat that his nose was roughly level with his knees.
"Thank you for your support, Ron." Hermione said acidly.
"You handled it fine by yourself." Ron mumbled.
Hermione stared down at her blank piece of parchment for a few seconds, then said edgily. "Oh, it's no good, I can't concentrate now. I'm going to bed."
She wrenched her bag open, Harry thought she was about to put her books away, but instead she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects, placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace, covered them with a few screwed-up bits of parchment and a broken quill and stood back to admire the effect.
"What in the name of Merlin are you doing?" said Ron, watching her as though fearful for her sanity.
"They're hats for house-elves" she said briskly now stuffing her books back into her bag. "I started doing them over the summer at night while I staying awake. I'm a really slow knitter without magic but now I'm back at school I should be able to make lots more."
"You're leaving out hats for the house-elves?" said Ron slowly. "And you're covering them up with rubbish first?"
"Yes." said Hermione defiantly, swinging her bag on to her back and leaning down to Y/n level kissing him goodnight.
"That's not on." said Ron angrily. "You're trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You're setting them free when they might not want to be free."
"Of course they want to be free!" said Hermione pulling away from Y/n. "Don't you dare touch those hats, Ron!"
She turned on her heel and left.
"Do not ever dare tell her I said this..." Y/n quietly started placing his hand under his chin and closing his eyes. "But I really do love it when she gets mad at someone like that."
Harry and Ron just looked at Y/n like he had a screw loose. Ron waited until Hermione had disappeared through the door to the girls' dormitories, then cleared the rubbish off the woolly hats.
"They should at least see what they're picking up." he said firmly. "Anyway..." he rolled up the parchment on which he had written the title of Snape's essay. "There's no point trying to finish this now, I can't do it without Hermione, Y/n you're not going to help us and I haven't got a clue what you're supposed to do with moonstones."
Harry shook his head as he piled his books back into his bag. "I'm going to bed too."
"I will be up later." Y/n said staying where he was.
The following day dawned just as leaden and rainy as the previous one. Hagrid was still absent from the staff table at breakfast.
"But on the plus side, no Snape today." said Ron bracingly.
Hermione yawned widely as Y/n poured her then himself some coffee. She looked mildly pleased about something, and when Ron asked her what she had to be so happy about, she simply said, "The hats have gone. Seems the house-elves do want freedom after all."
"I wouldn't bet on it." Ron told her cuttingly. "They might not count as clothes. They didn't look anything like hats to me, more like woolly bladders."
Hermione did not speak to him all morning.
Double Charms was succeeded by double Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both spent the first fifteen minutes of their lessons lecturing the class on the importance of OWLs.
"What you must remember." said little Professor Flitwick squeakily, perched as ever on a pile of books so that he could see over the top of his desk. "Is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in the meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!"
They then spent over an hour revising Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their OWL, and he rounded off the lesson by setting them their largest ever amount of Charms homework.
It was the same, if not worse, in Transfiguration.
"You cannot pass an OWL." said Professor McGonagall grimly. "Without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work." Neville made a sad little disbelieving noise. "Yes, you too, Longbottom." said Professor McGonagall. "There's nothing wrong with your work except lack of confidence. So...today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL."
She was quite right, By the end of a double period, neither Hary nor Ron had managed to vanish the snails on which they were practising, though Ron said hopefully he thought his looked a bit paler. Hermione had successfully vanished her snail on the third attempt, earning her a ten-point bonus for Gryffindor from Professor McGonagall. Though Y/n to his surprise had managed it on his first attempt earning him twenty points. The two were the only people not given homework, everybody else was told to practise the spell overnight, ready for a fresh attempt on their snails the following afternoon.
By the time they reached Care of Magical Creatures in the afternoon, Harry's head was aching again. The day had become cool and breezy, and as they walked down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, they felt the occasional drop of rain on their faces. Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, a long trestle table in front of her laden with twigs. As Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione reached her, a loud shout of laughter sounded behind them, turning, they saw Draco Malfoy and Atticus Grindelwald striding towards them, surrounded by their usual gang of Slytherin cronies. One of them had clearly just said something highly amusing, because Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson and the rest continued to snigger heartily as they gathered around the trestle table and, judging by the way they all kept looking over at Harry, he was able to guess the subject of the joke without too much difficulty.
"Everyone here?" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived. "Let's crack on then. Who can tell me what these things are called?"
She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. Hermione's hand shot into the air. Behind hers and Y/n's back, Malfoy did a buck-toothed imitation of her jumping up and down in eagerness to answer a question. Pansy Parkinson gave a shriek of laughter that turned almost at once into a scream, as the twigs on the table leapt into the air and revealed themselves to be what looked like tiny pixie-ish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand and a funny flat, barklike face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glittered.
"Oooooh!" said Parvati and Lavender, thoroughly irritating Harry. Anyone would have thought Hagrid had never shown them impressive creatures, admittedly, the Flobberworms had been a bit dull, but the salamanders and hippogriffs had been interesting enough, and the Blast-Ended Skrewts perhaps too much so.
"Kindly keep your voices down, girls!" said Professor Grubbly-Plank sharply, scattering a handful of what looked like brown rice among the stick-creatures, who immediately fell upon the food. "So...anyone know the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?"
"Bowtruckles." said Hermione. "They're tree guardians and usually live in wand-trees."
"Five points for Gryffindor." said Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Yes, these are Bowtruckles, and as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?"
"Woodlice." said Hermione promptly, which explained why what Y/n had taken to be grains of brown rice were moving. "But fairy eggs if they can get them."
"Good girl, take another five points. So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a Bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of woodlice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice and a Bowtruckle...I have enough here for one between four...you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body-parts labelled by the end of the lesson."
The class surged forwards around the trestle table. Harry deliberately circled around the back so that he ended up right next to Professor Grubbly-Plank.
"Where's Hagrid?" he asked her, while everyone else was choosing Bowtruckles.
"Never you mind." said Professor Grubbly-Plank repressively, which had been her attitude last time Hagrid had failed to turn up for a class, too. Smirking all over his pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harry and seized the largest Bowtruckle.
"Maybe." said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Harry could hear him, "The stupid great oaf's got himself badly injured. "
"Maybe you will if you don't shut up." said Harry out of the side of his mouth.
"Maybe he's been messing with stuff that's too big for him, if you get my drift."
Malfoy walked away, smirking over his shoulder at Harry, who felt suddenly sick. Did Malfoy know something? His father was a Death Eater after all, what if he had information about Hagrid's fate that had not yet reached the ears of the Order? He hurried back around the table to Ron, Y/n and Hermione who were squatting on the grass some distance away and attempting to persuade a Bowtruckle to remain still long enough for them to draw it. Harry pulled out parchment and quill, crouched down beside the others and related in a whisper what Malfoy had just said.
"Dumbledore would know if something had happened to Hagrid." said Hermione at once.
"It would just playing into Malfoy's hands to look worried, it tells him we do not know exactly what is going on. You have got to ignore him Harry." Y/n told him.
"Here, hold the Bowtruckle for a moment, just so I can draw its face..." Hermione said now.
"Yes." came Malfoy's clear drawl from the group nearest them. "Father was talking to the Minister just a couple of days ago, you know, and it sounds as though the Ministry's really determined to crack down on sub-standard teaching in this place. So even if that overgrown moron does show up again, he'll probably be sent packing straightaway."
"OUCH!"
Harry had gripped the Bowtruckle so hard that it had almost snapped, and it had just taken a great retaliatory swipe at his hand with its sharp fingers, leaving two long deep cuts there. Harry dropped it. Crabbe and Goyle, who had already been guffawing at the idea of Hagrid being sacked, laughed still harder as the Bowtruckle set off at full tilt towards the Forest, a little moving stick-man soon swallowed up among the tree roots. When the bell echoed distantly over the grounds, Harry rolled up his blood-stained Bowtruckle picture and they marched off to Herbology with Harry's hand wrapped in a bandage Y/n had summoned with his wand, and Malfoy's derisive laughter still ringing in their ears.
"If he calls Hagrid a moron one more time..." said Harry through gritted teeth.
"Harry, don't go picking a row with Malfoy, don't forget, he's a prefect now, he could make life difficult for you..." Hermione warned.
"Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life?" said Harry sarcastically. Ron laughed, but Y/n shook his head and Hermione frowned. Together, they traipsed across the vegetable patch. The sky still appeared unable to make up its mind whether it wanted to rain or not.
"I just wish Hagrid would hurry up and get back, that's all." said Harry in a low voice, as they reached the greenhouses. "And don't say that Grubbly-Plank woman's a better teacher!" he added threateningly.
"I wasn't going to." said Hermione calmly.
"Because she'll never be as good as Hagrid." said Harry firmly, fully aware that he had just experienced an exemplary Care of Magical Creatures lesson and was thoroughly annoyed about it.
The door of the nearest greenhouse opened and some fourth-years spilled out of it, including Ginny.
"Hi." she said brightly as she passed. A few seconds later, Luna Lovegood emerged, trailing behind the rest of the class, a smudge of earth on her nose, and her hair tied in a knot on the top of her head. When she saw Y/n and Harry, her prominent eyes seemed to bulge excitedly and she made a beeline straight for him. Many of his classmates turned curiously to watch. Luna took a great breath and then said, without so much as a preliminary hello, "I believe He Who Must Not Be Named is back and I believe you both fought him and escaped from him."
"Er...right." said Harry awkwardly. Luna was wearing what looked like a pair of orange radishes for earrings, a fact that Parvati and Lavender seemed to have noticed, as they were both giggling and pointing at her earlobes.
"You can laugh." Luna said, her voice rising, apparently under the impression that Parvati and Lavender were laughing at what she had said rather than what she was wearing, "But people used to believe there were no such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"
"Well, they were right, weren't they?'" said Hermione impatiently. "There weren't any such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."
Luna gave her a withering look and flounced away, radishes swinging madly. Parvati and Lavender were not the only ones hooting with laughter now.
"D'you mind not offending the only people who believe us?" Harry asked Hermione as they made their way into class.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harry." said Hermione. "Ginny's told me all about her, apparently, she'll only believe in things as long as there's no proof at all. Well, I wouldn't expect anything else from someone whose father runs The Quibbler."
"While I do admit she is I believe the word is 'Quirky', she has been rather supportive, more so than the people I thought at least Harry could call friends..." his eyes fell upon Lavender and Parvati who fell silent now.
To nobody's surprise, Professor Sprout started their lesson by lecturing them about the importance of OWLs. Harry wished all the teachers would stop doing this, he was starting to get an anxious, twisted feeling in his stomach every time he remembered how much homework he had to do, a feeling that worsened dramatically when Professor Sprout gave them yet another essay at the end of class. Tired and smelling strongly of dragon dung, Professor Sprouts preferred type of fertiliser, the Gryffindors trooped back up to the castle an hour and a half later, none of them talking very much, it had been another long day.
Y/n and Harry were now starving and knowing they had their first detention with Umbridge at five o'clock, headed straight for dinner without dropping off their bags in Gryffindor Tower. Both had barely reached the entrance of the Great Hall, however, when a loud and angry voice yelled. "Oi, Potter! Grindelwald!"
"What now?" Harry muttered wearily to Y/n, as both turned to face Angelina Johnson, who looked as though she was in a towering temper.
"I'll tell you what now." she said, marching straight up to them and poking Y/n hard in the chest with her finger. "How come you've both landed yourself in detention for five o'clock on Friday?"
"What?" said Harry.
"The Keeper tryouts..." Y/n uttered out.
"One of you remembers!" snarled Angelina. "Didn't I tell you both I wanted to do a tryout with the whole team, and find someone who fitted in with everyone? Didn't I tell you I'd booked the Quidditch pitch specially? And now you've both decided you're not going to be there! I'm down a chaser a vital position for testing out the keeper!"
"We didn't decide not to be there!" said Harry, stung by the injustice of these words.
"We received detention from Umbridge..." Y/n added.
"Just because we told her the truth about You-Know-Who." Harry finished.
"Well, you two can just go straight to her and ask her to let you off on Friday." said Angelina fiercely. "And I don't care how you do it. Tell her You-Know-Who's a figment of your imaginations if you like, just make sure you're there!"
Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall now heading towards Y/n and Harry.
"I will not. It would be disrespectful to Cedric to lie like that." Y/n said but before Angelina could say a word he cut her off. "If you are in need of back up for me then I suggest you talk to Ginny Weasley, from what I have seen she is a good flier, fierce too given her size. I think she would make an excellent addition to the team as a reserve this year in preparation for your departure next year." Y/n now suggested.
It was clear that Angelina was thinking over what he had said but she remained no less mad as she turned on her heel and stormed away.
"I think we'd better check with Puddlemere United whether Oliver Wood's been killed during a training session, because Angelina seems to be channelling his spirit." Harry complained now.
"What d'you reckon are the odds of Umbridge letting you two off on Friday?" said Ron sceptically, as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.
"Less than zero." said Y/n as Harry began glumly sitting down next to Ron while Y/n and Hermione sat down opposite them.
Y/n had begun tipping lamb chops onto his plate when Harry spoke. "Better try, though, hadn't we? We can offer to do two more detentions or something, I dunno..." He swallowed a mouthful of potato.
"I would not attempt such a thing, that woman strikes me as odd...and I do not mean just her ministry ties." Y/n said beginning to eat himself now.
"I just hope she doesn't keep us too long this evening. You realise I've got to write three essays, practise Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a counter-charm for Flitwick, finish the Bowtruckle drawing and start that stupid dream diary for Trelawney?"
'"And it looks like it's going to rain." Ron moaned and for some reason glanced up at the ceiling.
"What's that got to do with our homework?" said Hermione, her eyebrows raised.
"Nothing." said Ron at once, his ears reddening.
"Then you should have finished them straight away Harry. I finished Snape's essay the night you all decided to go to bed early, You were also so focused on Malfoy that is why you did not finish your drawing." Y/n pointed out. "If there is time I can perhaps help you practice the vanishing spell."
Harry just nodded sticking to his dinner.
"I do not know how long this Umbridge woman will keep us so please go to bed if you get tired instead of waiting up." Y/n said quietly to Hermione.
"Are sure?" Hermione asked him.
Y/n nodded. "I can always see you in the morning."
At five to five Harry and Y/n bade the other two goodbye and set off for Umbridge's office on the third floor. When they knocked on the door she called. "Come in." in a sugary voice.
"Whatever she does...we are in this together." Y/n whispered to Harry who nodded and both now entered cautiously, looking around.
Y/n had known this office under three of its previous occupants.
In the days when Gilderoy Lockhart had lived here it had been plastered in beaming portraits of himself. When Lupin had occupied it, it was likely you would meet some fascinating Dark creature in a cage or tank if you came to call. In the impostor Moody's days it had been packed with various instruments and artefacts for the detection of wrongdoing and concealment.
Now, however, it looked totally unrecognisable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each one residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolour kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These were so foul that Y/n stared at them, transfixed, until Professor Umbridge spoke again.
"Good evening, Mr Potter. Mr Grindelwald."
Y/n drew his attention away from the cats now and looked around. He had not noticed her at first because she was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blended only too well with the tablecloth on the desk behind her.
"Good Evening, Professor Umbridge. He and Harry said stiffly.
"Well, sit down." she said, pointing towards two small tables draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on each table, apparently waiting for them.
"Er." said Harry, without moving. "Professor Umbridge. Er...before we start, I...I wanted to ask you a...a favour."
Her bulging eyes narrowed. "Oh, yes?"
"Well, We....we're on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And were supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was...was wondering whether we could skip detention that night and do it...do it another night...instead..."
He knew long before he reached the end of his sentence that it was no good.
"Oh, no." said Umbridge, smiling so widely that she looked as though she had just swallowed a particularly juicy fly. "Oh, no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you and Mr Grindelwald will come here at five o'clock tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you."
As Y/n felt his anger begin to rise he just closed his eyes and thought of being back at the Grangers. He would not let this woman have her fun. He instead now put his bag on the floor by the desks and sat down.
Harry looked away from her now, and dropped his own schoolbag beside Y/n's and sat down at his desk.
"There." said Umbridge sweetly. "We're getting better at controlling our tempers already, aren't we? Now, you are both going to be doing some lines for me, No, not with your quills." she added, as they bent down to open their bags. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."
She handed each a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point.
"Mr Potter I want you to write, 'I must not tell lies.' Mr Grindelwald you will write, 'I must control my temper.'" she told them softly.
"How many times?" Y/n asked, with a creditable imitation of politeness.
"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in." said Umbridge sweetly. "Off you go."
She moved over to her desk, sat down and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking. They raised the sharp black quills, then realised something was missing.
"You haven't given us any ink." Harry said.
"Oh, you won't need ink." said Professor Umbridge, with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.
Y/n looked at Harry for a moment then placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote. 'I must control my temper.'
He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had started to appear on the back of his right hand, cutting into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth.
The same thing happened with Harry as he wrote and he looked round at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. "Yes?"
"Nothing." said Harry quietly.
Y/n looked back at the parchment, placed the quill on it once more, wrote 'I must control my temper', and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time; once again, the words had been cut into his skin, once again, they healed over seconds later.
And on it went. Again and again Y/n and Harry wrote their words on the parchments in what Y/n soon came to realise was not ink, but their own blood. And, again and again, the words were cut into the back of his hand, healed, and reappeared the next time he set quill to parchment.
Darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. Y/n and Harry both remained silent not asking when she would allow them to stop. Harry did not even check his watch. He knew she was watching them for signs of weakness and he was not going to show any, Y/n was enduring it without making any noise, He clearly was not giving into this foul woman not even if he had to sit there all night, cutting open his own hand with this quill...
"Come here." she said, after what seemed hours.
Both stood up hands stinging painfully. When Y/n looked down at it he saw that the cut had healed, but that the skin there was red raw.
"Hands." she said.
As Y/n extended it. She took it in her own. Y/n's skin crawled with disgust as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore a number of ugly old rings.
"Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet." she said, smiling. "Now you Mr Potter." She said and Harry did the same as Y/n. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You both may go."
Both left her office without a word. The school was quite deserted, it was surely past midnight. They walked slowly up the corridor, then, when they had turned the corner and were sure she would not hear him, Y/n grabbed Harry's shoulder.
"Do not tell Hermione about this." He said calmly but Harry could tell he was seething deep down.
"I wasn't going to tell her or Ron anyway." Harry said. "But why don't you want Hermione to know?" He then asked.
"She has worried about me enough this summer." Y/n said as they started to walk towards the Gryffindor tower now.
It was another difficult day, Professors McGonagall, Grubbly-Plank and Sinistra had given them yet more homework, which neither Y/n or Harry had the prospect of finishing that evening because of their second detention with Umbridge. To cap it all, Angelina Johnson tracked them down at dinner again and, on learning that they would not be able to attend Friday's Keeper tryouts, told them she was not at all impressed by their attitude and that she expected players who wished to remain on the team to put training before their other commitments.
"We're in detention!" Harry yelled after her as she stalked away. "D'you think we'd rather be stuck in a room with that old toad or playing Quidditch?"
"At least it's only lines." said Hermione consolingly, as Harry sank back on to his bench and looked down at his steak and kidney pie, which he no longer fancied very much. "It's not as if it's a dreadful punishment, really..."
Harry opened his mouth but when he saw Y/n shaking his head he closed it again and nodded. He was not really sure why he and Y/n were not telling Ron and Hermione exactly what was happening in Umbridge's room, he only knew that he did not want to see their looks of horror that would make the whole thing seem worse and therefore more difficult to face. He also felt dimly that this was between himself, Y/n and Umbridge, a private battle of wills, and he was not going to give her the satisfaction of hearing that he had complained about it.
"I can't believe how much homework we've got." said Ron miserably.
"Well, why didn't you do any last night?" Hermione asked him. " I did mine while I was waiting for Y/n and Harry to come back but I ended up having to go to bed before they even got back. Where were you, anyway?"
"I was...I fancied a walk." said Ron shiftily.
Y/n had the distinct impression that he and Harry were not alone in concealing things at the moment.
The second detention was just as bad as the previous one. The skin on the back of Y/n and Harry's hands became irritated more quickly now and was soon red and inflamed. Y/n thought it unlikely that it would keep healing as effectively for long. Soon the cuts would remain etched into their hands and Umbridge would, perhaps, be satisfied. He continued to let out no indication of pain and Harry seemed to be doing the same now as if a silent understanding of not giving Umbridge the satisfaction had been struck between them, from the moment of entering the room to the moment of his dismissal, again past midnight, Neither said anything but "Good evening." and "Goodnight."
Thursday passed in a haze of tiredness. Ron seemed very sleepy too, though Y/n could not see why he should be. The third detention passed in the same way as the previous two, except that after two hours the words, 'I must control my temper' did not fade from the back of Y/n's hand, but remained scratched there, oozing droplets of blood. The pause in the pointed quills scratching made Professor Umbridge look up.
"Ah." she said softly, moving around her desk to examine his hand and then Harry's herself. "Good. That ought to serve as a reminder to you both, oughtn't it? You may leave for tonight."
"Do we still have to come back tomorrow?" said Harry, picking up his schoolbag with his left hand rather than his smarting right one.
"Oh yes." said Professor Umbridge, smiling as widely as before. "Yes, I think we can etch the message a little deeper with another evenings work."
Harry had never before considered the possibility that there might be another teacher in the world he hated more than Snape, but as he walked back towards Gryffindor Tower he had to admit he had found a strong contender. She's evil, he thought, as he climbed a staircase to the seventh floor, she's an evil, twisted, mad old...
"Ron?" he heard Y/n say and Harry looked to see Ron, who was lurking behind a statue of Lachlan the Lanky, clutching his broomstick. He gave a great leap of surprise when he saw Y/n and Harry while attempting to hide his new Nimbus two thousand behind his back.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked.
"Er...nothing. What are you doing?" Ron replied
Y/n frowned at him.
"Come on, you can tell us!" Harry said. "What are you hiding here for?"
"I'm...I'm hiding from Fred and George, if you must know." said Ron. "They just went past with a bunch of first-years, I bet they're testing stuff on them again, I mean, they can't do it in the common room now, can they, not with Hermione there." He was talking in a very fast, feverish way.
"Then why do you have the broom I bought for you out?" Y/n pointed out the broom now.
"You haven't been flying, have you?" Harry asked curious too.
"I...well...well, Ok, I'll tell you, but don't laugh, all right?" Ron said defensively, turning redder with every second. "I...I thought I'd try out for Gryffindor Keeper now I've got a decent broom. There. Go on. Laugh."
"Why would we laugh at that?" Y/n asked.
"Yeah I'm not laughing." said Harry, Ron just blinked. "It's a brilliant idea! It'd be really cool if you got on the team! I've never seen you play Keeper, are you good?"
"I'm not bad." said Ron, who looked immensely relieved at their reactions. "Charlie, Fred and George always made me keep for them when they were training during the holidays."
"So you have been practicing in preparation for the tryouts?" Y/n asked.
"Every evening since Tuesday... just on my own, though. I've been trying to bewitch Quaffles to fly at me, but it hasn't been easy and I don't know how much use it'll be." Ron looked nervous and anxious. "Fred and George are going to laugh themselves stupid when I turn up for the tryouts. They haven't stopped taking the mickey out of me since I got made a prefect."
"Ignore them, I am certain you will do well in the tryouts." Y/n said.
"I wish we could be there." said Harry bitterly now, as they set off together towards the common room.
"Yeah, so do... Harry, what's that on the back of your hand?"
Harry, who had just scratched his nose with his free right hand, tried to hide it, but had as much success as Ron with his broom.
"It is just a cut Ron..." Y/n began.
"Yeah it's nothing...it's..."
But Ron had grabbed Harry's forearm and pulled the back of Harry's hand up level with his eyes. There was a pause, during which he stared at the words carved into the skin, then, looking sick, he released Harry.
"I thought you said she was just giving you lines?"
Harry looked at Y/n who seemed to be conflicted but after a few moments he gave a reluctant sharp nod and he knew why, Ron had been honest with them, so he told Ron the truth about the hours they had been spending in Umbridge's office and Y/n showed him his right hand now.
"The old hag!" Ron said in a revolted whisper as they came to a halt in front of the Fat Lady, who was dozing peacefully with her head against her frame. "She's sick! Go to McGonagall, say something!"
"No." said Harry at once. "I'm not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she's got to me."
"Got to you? You can't let her get away with this!" Ron said back.
"Ron she is with the ministry, In truth we do not know how much power McGonagall has got over her." Y/n said.
"Dumbledore, then, tell Dumbledore!" Ron suggested.
"No." said Harry flatly.
"Why not?" Ron asked.
"He's got enough on his mind." said Harry, but that was not the true reason. He was not going to go to Dumbledore for help when Dumbledore had not spoken to him once since June.
"Well, I reckon you should..." Ron began, but he was interrupted by the Fat Lady, who had been watching them sleepily and now burst out, "Are you going to give me the password or will I have to stay awake all night waiting for you to finish your conversation?"
Friday dawned sullen and sodden as the rest of the week.
At five o'clock that evening Y/n knocked on Professor Umbridge's office door for what he sincerely hoped would be the final time, and was told to enter with Harry. The blank parchments lay ready for them on the lace-covered tables, the pointed black quills beside them.
"You know what to do." said Umbridge, smiling sweetly at them.
Y/n sat down and picked up the quill as he saw Harry glance through the window and shift his chair an inch or so to the right, trying to get a glimpse of the Quidditch training grounds.
Y/n turned his eyes back to his parchment now and began to write 'I must control my temper', The cut in the back of his right hand opened and began to bleed afresh.
'I must control my temper.' The cut dug deeper, stinging and smarting.
'I must control my temper.' Blood trickled down his wrist and onto the parchment
I must control my temper...
I must control my temper...
I must control my temper...
I must control my temper...
The parchment was now dotted with drops of blood from the back of his hand, which was searing with pain. When he next looked up, night had fallen.
"Let's see if you've both got the message yet, shall we?" said Umbridge's soft voice half an hour later.
She moved towards them, stretching out her short ringed fingers for his arm. Y/n stuck his out first and she examined it looking pleased. Then, she took a hold of Harry to examine the words now cut into his skin.
Y/n was surprised however when Harry wrenched his arm out of her grip and leapt to his feet, staring at her. She looked back at him, a smile stretching her wide, slack mouth.
"Yes, it hurts, doesn't it?" she said softly.
He did not answer.
"Well, I think I've made my point, Mr. Potter, Mr Grindelwald. You may go."
Y/n picked up his schoolbag now and left the room with Harry. As the two reached the stairs Y/n decided to speak up. "Did you manage to see how Ron did?"
"It was too far away and dark for me to make out who was who..." Harry said looking at his hand.
Y/n looked at his own now. It was going to be harder to try and hide this from Hermione now.
"Hold out your hand." Y/n then said taking out his wand and Harry did so, Y/n pointed his wand at Harry's bleeding hand. "Ferula." He cast and bandages began to wrap around the hand making Harry wince slightly.
"Why did you pull your hand away from Umbridge so suddenly in her office? I understand that she is foul but it cannot be because of that." Y/n asked then swapped his wand over to his left hand and pointed at his own scar. "Ferula."
"When she touched me...my scar hurt." Harry said.
"Your scar?" Y/n asked.
"Not this one." Harry said indicating to his hand.
"Oh...I see." Y/n said understanding now. Harry had meant the one on his forehead given to him by Voldemort.
"Y/n, what if it..." Harry began.
"Just because your scar hurt does not necessarily mean what you think it means...we should discuss it with Hermione first and see what she thinks."
"How are we supposed to do that when we haven't even told Hermione what that toad has been doing to us?" Harry said back.
Y/n just let out a sigh of frustration. "That is a fair point. We can speak to Ron then, though it might have to wait a few days depending on how the tryouts went."
They reached the Fat Lady's portrait now. "Mimbulus mimbletonia." Harry gave at the Fat Lady, who swung forward once more.
A roar of sound greeted them as Ron came running over, beaming all over his face and slopping Butterbeer down his front from the goblet he was clutching. "Harry, Y/n, I did it, I'm in, I'm Keeper!"
"Congratulations Ron, It looks like we will be teammates afterall." Y/n said happy for his friend hiding his hand between his back.
"What?" Harry said taking a moment to register what Ron had said. "Oh... brilliant!"
"You should grab a Butterbeer." Ron said pointing to a table filled with bottles behind him. "I still can't believe it..."
"Where is Hermione?" Y/n asked now.
"She's there." said Fred, who was also swigging Butterbeer, and pointed to an armchair by the fire. Y/n looked at it to see Hermione was dozing in it, her drink tipping precariously in her hand.
Y/n forgot about the pain in his and as he started to move towards her.
"Well, she said she was pleased when I told her." said Ron, looking slightly put out as Y/n went to go look after Hermione.
"Let her sleep." said George hastily. It was a few moments before Harry noticed that several of the first-years gathered around them bore unmistakeable signs of recent nosebleeds.
"Come here, Ron, and see if Oliver's old robes fit you." called Katie Bell. "We can take off his name and put yours on instead..."
As Ron moved away, Angelina came striding up to Harry.
"Sorry I was a bit short with you and Grindelwald earlier, Potter." she said abruptly. "It's stressful this managing lark, you know, I'm starting to think I was a bit hard on Wood sometimes." She was watching Ron over the rim of her goblet with a slight frown on her face. "Look, I know he's your best mate, but he's not fabulous." she said bluntly. "I think with a bit of training he'll be all right, though. He comes from a family of good Quidditch players. I'm banking on him turning out to have a bit more talent than he showed today, to be honest. Vicky Frobisher and Geoffrey Hooper both flew better this evening, but Hooper's a real whiner, he's always moaning about something or other, and Vicky's involved in all sorts of societies. She admitted herself that if training clashed with her Charms Club she'd put Charms first. Anyway, we're having a practice session at two o'clock tomorrow, so just make sure you and Grindelwald are there this time. And do me a favour and help Ron as much as you can, OK?"
He nodded, and Angelina strolled back to her friend.
Y/n had reached Hermione now and he gently began to bend down and took the Butterbeer from her hands before she could spill it. He put the bottle down on a nearby table then lightly began to shake Hermione's shoulder. She stirred and moaned slightly but Y/n shook her shoulder again and her eyes slowly began to open.
"Y/n?" she said blearily then began to rub her eyes and she moved over slightly in her chair so that Y/n could sit down.
Y/n carefully sat down and swiveled Hermione's legs over his own.
"You looked to be almost spilling Butterbeer when Harry and I got back a moment ago." Y/n said looking at her tired eyes.
Hermione just rested her head on his shoulder now feeling comfortable there. "I'm just so...so...so tired." she yawned. "I was up until one o'clock making more hats. They're disappearing like mad!"
And sure enough, now that he looked, Y/n saw that there were woolly hats concealed all around the room where unwary elves might accidentally pick them up.
"I am sure they will love them." Y/n smiled and he placed a kiss on her forehead.
Hermione moved her hands slightly to hold his now but he let out an involuntarily groan of pain as her hands closed around his scar. Hermione immediately sensed something was wrong.
"What's the matter Y/n? Why is your hand bandaged?" She said looking at it now.
Y/n wanted to lie and say that it was nothing but he knew that Umbridge's cruel punishment would leave a permanent scar.
"I will show you, but please do not draw attention to us." Y/n quietly pleaded with her as he began to slowly unwrap the bandage.
Hermione could now see the words 'I must control my temper' that cut deep into this hand still letting out slight drops of blood. She gasped horrified and looked at Y/n. "Who did this to you? Not Umbridge surely?" She said not wanting to believe a teacher would stoop to such a level.
"She seems to have created a quill that does not use ink. Instead, when used to write, it slices into the back of the hand holding it and draws blood in place of ink. Because Harry and I have been doing this for a few days we both now have these scars." Y/n explained.
"That is torture Y/n! You need to go to McGonagall or Dumbledore!" She angrily whispered.
"Harry and I have already discussed it but we have realised there is nothing we can do. She is being backed by the ministry most likely after all..." Y/n said.
"And after I said it was only lines." Hermione said looking at the scar again and feeling awful now.
"You were not to know Hermione." Y/n said stopping her. "Harry and I did not want to tell anyone about it."
"Why would you not tell me?" Hermione asked him sounding both angry and slightly hurt.
"Because I did not want you to sit and worry about me as I did my detentions." Y/n admitted. "You have been looking out for me all summer and I have not been able to do a thing for you, I hear how people talk about me Hermione. It has not bothered me for quite some time, but now that it could affect you it makes me concerned. I do not want to damage your good reputation..."
"I don't care about my reputation Y/n, My grades are as high as they have always been and I'm finally with the person that I...that I love." She looked into his eyes now. "Being here Y/n that's what you do for me, always being by side ever since the first year. Standing up to your own brother when he is throwing ghastly insults, standing by my side when both Ron and Harry were angry with me. I don't care what anyone else thinks of me for being your girlfriend...and besides you seem to be forgetting the people that support us. Harry, Ron, his family, my parents, your grandmother...that's all that matters." Hermione finished now.
Y/n just rested his head on her shoulder now. "I love you as well Hermione. Thank you for loving me, even with my flaws and burdens."
Hermione just wrapped her arms around Y/n laying her head atop of his and the two sat holding one another in silence enjoying each other's company. Y/n would have been happy to drift off holding Hermione then and there but he heard Hermione speak again now. "Oh, Harry, it's you...good about Ron, isn't it?" Hermione said as Y/n lifted his head now, he knew what Harry wanted to talk about.
"Wha..oh yeah it is." Harry said remembering about Ron.
"She knows..." Y/n said to Harry and Harry could see his bandage hand was gone.
"...Listen, Hermione, Tonight when Y/n and I were up in Umbridge's office and she touched my arm..." Harry began and Hermione listened closely.
When Harry had finished, she said slowly. "You're worried You-Know-Who's controlling her like he controlled Quirrell?"
"Well." said Harry, dropping his voice. "It's a possibility, isn't it?"
"I suppose so." said Hermione, though she sounded unconvinced. "But I don't think he can be possessing her the way he possessed Quirrell, I mean, he's properly alive again now, isn't he, he's got his own body, he wouldn't need to share someone else's. He could have her under the Imperius Curse, I suppose..."
Harry watched Fred, George and Lee Jordan juggling empty Butterbeer bottles for a moment. Then Hermione said,. "But last year your scar hurt when nobody was touching you, and didn't Dumbledore say it had to do with what You-Know-Who was feeling at the time? I mean, maybe this hasn't got anything to do with Umbridge at all, maybe it's just coincidence it happened while you were with her?"
"She's evil." said Harry flatly. "Twisted."
"She's horrible, yes. Barbaric even..." Hermione said and her grip on Y/n tightened for a moment. "But...Harry, I think you ought to tell Dumbledore your scar hurt."
"I'm not bothering him with this. Like you just said, it's not a big deal. It's been hurting on and off all summer...it was just a bit worse tonight, that's all..."
"Harry, I'm sure Dumbledore would want to be bothered by this..."
"Yeah..." said Harry, before he could stop himself. "That's the only bit of me Dumbledore cares about, isn't it, my scar?"
"Don't say that, it's not true!" Hermione quickly said.
"I think I'll write and tell Sirius about it, see what he thinks..."
"Harry, you can't put something like that in a letter!" said Hermione, looking alarmed. "Don't you remember, Moody told us to be careful what we put in writing! We just can't guarantee owls aren't being intercepted any more!"
"All right, all right, I won't tell him, then!" said Harry irritably. He got to his feet. "I'm going to bed. Tell Ron for me, will you?"
Y/n just sighed as he and Hermione watched Harry go. "Speaking of bed...You should be going as well." He then said to Hermione.
"You're right, I'm absolutely exhausted and I want to make some more hats tomorrow. Listen, now that you are free again you can help me if you like, it's quite fun, I'm getting better, I can do patterns and bobbles and all sorts of things now." Hermione said hopeful to him.
"I will be there, though I will have to leave the sewing to you I am afraid." Y/n said and Hermione just smiled and then kissed him goodnight.