DISCLAIMER: See Ch. 1.

A/N: Well, this chapter is more transitional. Felicity Umbridge la Fontaine might make a reappearance in AoG, but I'm still not sure yet. I mainly wrote her in to begin with just to surprise and entertain everyone while solving the problem of who would take over for Lupin in teaching DADA for a month.

CHAPTER 22: FELICITY UMBRIDGE

Polliceor hoc vobis, Quirites, bona fide. Citizens, I promise you this in good faith. –Cicero, de Lege Agraria (2.100)

There was much muttering as Harry quickly stowed his wand away. Felicity Umbridge (1) took in all of this with amusement. "Oh, when Professor Dumbledore said 'Umbridge,' you must have been thinking of my younger sister, the hag. Dolores always was a slippery, manipulative, two-faced, annoying little toad. I couldn't stand her from day one: After she was born, I think she discouraged our parents from having any more kids."

There was plenty of snickering and twittering to go around, especially how she so calmly insulted her younger sister and waved the whole identity mistake aside as though it was all a minor trifle. "Oh, and please, call me Professor la Fontaine."

Carrying her briefcase, she went up to the staff table and introduced herself to all the different teachers. As Harry sat back down, he even saw her telling a joke to McGonagall, who seemed willing to accept her; he didn't hear the joke, but whatever it was, it made the Transfiguration professor laugh, which was a rare sight indeed.

Across the table from him, Dean and Seamus were discussing the new arrival. "She's nothing like the toad who so many of us have come to hate with a passion," Seamus commented. "Yeah, I like her more," Dean added. "she's friendly and witty, unlike the former 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor,' who basically had a giant glowing neon sign over her head which said, 'GET EVEN WITH ME; YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO.'"

Harry chuckled at this. Both boys turned to him. "So, Harry, being our 'Anti-Umbridge' leader, what do you think?" Dean inquired.

"Well, if she's anything like 'Dolores the hag,' and I don't see that happening, I'll find plenty of ways to make her life a living hell. Felicity Umbridge I like already; Dolores Umbridge I detested since the first day of school last year."

"Harry, since your dad and his friends were such diabolical pranksters," Seamus added, "Think you'll use his legacy if it comes to that?"

"Yes, but ONLY if it comes to that; I'm not much of a prankster by nature. What do you think would be better: replacing her butterbeer with vinegar, or sneaking into her classroom and gluing the desks to the ceiling?"

~*~*~*~

After lunch, Harry walked out of the hall, chatting with Neville and Ginny, when Professor McGonagall came up to them. "Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger should be recovering right now. Care to visit them?"

"Of course," all three said in unison. They followed their Head of House to the infirmary, where Ron and Hermione were just getting up.

"Ugh, what happened?" Ron groaned. "The last thing I remember was being force-fed some disgusting potion."

"How long were we in here?" Hermione asked, rubbing her head.

"A week," McGonagall answered them. "On Monday, both of you started acting completely out of character in your first period classes; do either of you remember what happened?"

Ron concentrated and said, "Something with Spiked Strawberries..."

Hermione gasped. "I nearly hexed Professor Snape! He's angry at me, isn't he?"

"Actually," Harry spoke for the first time, "He was wondering what caused you to act like that."

"We deduced that it was the mental illnesses Mr. Weasley suffered from those brains in the Department of Mysteries last summer," McGonagall explained. "We thought most of them had been ironed out by the end of the summer, but apparently, a few remained dormant and resurfaced just recently."

"Then how did I end up like that?" Hermione asked.

"I saw the two of you kissing each other in that empty classroom just before Christmas," Harry said, ignoring their blushes, "So I thought you must have gotten it from him that way."

Ignoring their deepening blushes, McGonagall continued, "It seems that those brains transferred some of their thoughts, personalities and memories into you, and triggered aggressive defensive reactions when certain memories resurfaced, such as Potter's Runespoor. It's possible that even the feud between Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter during the summer and the first week of school was a result of these memories. Madame Pomfrey is currently contacting her friends at St. Mungo's to get the proper potions and medicines. Since your actions were involuntary and beyond your control, there will be no punishment."

"Wait a minute!" Ginny interrupted. "If Ron's actions were influenced by those things, then what happened to Harry like on the first night back at school wasn't his fault and she shouldn't have been made to sit out the first Quidditch match!"

McGonagall paled. "Oh dear," she said, a trace of guilt in her voice. "She's absolutely right. I'm so sorry, Mr. Weasley."

Ron blinked. "It's fine. For some reason, I'm not feeling so angry about it at the moment."

There was a paused before Neville asked, "Are you sure the brains aren't influencing you? I've never heard you say something like that before."

Ron looked a little taken aback. "I've been in the hospital wing for a week, my mind has been messed up, I'm bound to have a mountain of homework waiting for me when I get out, and come to think of it, I don't know what's been going on with prefect duties! No, for once, I'm definitely not so concerned about Quidditch at the moment. So who's been filling in for me and Hermione?"

Neville smiled meekly and said, "Parvati, and, well... me."

"He's quite good at it, too," Harry added as his best friends' jaws dropped.

"In retrospect," McGonagall mused, "It's a good thing I didn't take away your prefect badge and responsibilities at the beginning of the year; even I wouldn't risk your mother's wrath like that."

Ron blushed as Hermione giggled. McGonagall turned to Harry and said, "By the way, Potter, Ms. Umbridge would like to meet you when you're done in here; she's in your office."

"HER!" Ron and Hermione exclaimed at once; after Harry put Silencing Charms on both of them, he explained how it was Dolores Umbridge's sister, Professor Felicity la Fontaine (Umbridge was her maiden name).

After that, he explained the fiasco the previous night about what happened in the scuffle with Voldemort and what happened to Lupin, which was why Dolores Umbridge's older (and better) sister was filling in. Both their faces blanched when Harry told them what happened with Percy. By the end of it (when the charms wore off, incidentally), Hermione paled while Ron's face went an angry red.

"HOW DARE HE!?" the youngest Weasley male exploded at last, even causing his professor to take a step back. "After all the times we swore, swore to protect Ginny, he dares go and do that! He always cared more about his position, whether it was prefect or Head Boy here at school, or Crouch's secretary or scribe to the Minister, than he did about us! The only times he ever talked to us was when he was gloating over how such a wonderful person he was. Ha! He's certainly not making Mum proud now... Ooh, when I get my hands around his neck..."

"I agree with you wholeheartedly, Ron," Harry growled, "He's still blaming me for his problems, the slimy little bast-" he stopped himself front insulting the entire Weasley family (and from swearing in front of his professor, of course). "Sorry, shouldn't have thought about saying that."

"I understand, mate," Ron reassured him, "Oh, and thanks for saving Ginny's life, again. Ginny, thanks for saving his life. Neville, thanks for saving both their lives."

"No problem," all three said at once. Harry added, "I'm going to see Professor la Fontaine now; I'll help you catch up on homework later." With that, he departed.

~*~*~*~

Professor la Fontaine was waiting in his office, sitting in front of the desk in a seat reserved for visitors, reading a book. She turned and saw him; putting the book away, she shook his hand. "Hello, 'Assistant Professor' Harry Potter," she said, beaming.

Harry was relieved; he hated the publicity. "Nice to meet you, Professor la Fontaine," he responded.

"I was wondering what you and your fellow sixth years were up to."

"We're covering Dark objects, and how to identify and disarm them."

"What do you teach your classes?"

"Dark creatures. I have specimens in my classroom of those for the first and second years, and I teach third years about creatures that Dumbledore won't allow anywhere near his students, such as vampires and dementors."

"Speaking of which, I've heard you can produce a corporeal Patronus? Can I please see?"

"Sure. Expecto Patronum!" The stag appeared, countered around, and stopped in front of her.

"Beautiful," she said as it vanished. "I've been trying myself. I should nearly have it... let's see. EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A wild turkey fell out of the end of her wand. It looked up and wobbled around, flapping its wings. "A wild turkey?" Harry asked as it dissolved. "I know Patroni are based on personal symbolism, but why a turkey?"

"There are lots of them in North America, and my backyard seems to be a favorite spot for them. The wild turkeys are actually very intelligent; it's the domesticated ones that are as dumb as rocks. They could drown themselves on dry land just by lowering their heads to drink out of a puddle of water."

Harry snorted in spite of himself while la Fontaine chuckled. "So, can I see these specimens of yours?" "Of course. Follow me."

They entered the classroom, and she immediately took in the sight. "Wonderful," she commented. Harry walked over to Nemorphus tank, opened him, and picked them up.

"Hiya, Harry!" Morpheus greeted him. "Who's the lady?"

"Professor Felicity Umbridge, who will be substituting for Lupin for a while."

"Wait a minute!" Nemesis protested. "Is she the toad who-"

"No, no, no," Harry explained, "She's the toad's older sister, and is nothing like her wretched younger sister, Dolores."

"Oh, a Runespoor," she commented, "Don't worry, I know these creatures aren't illegal if you're a Parselmouth; Dumbledore explained it to me earlier."

After introducing his teacher and his snake, she petted it for a while until Ron and Hermione walked in. Handing Nemorphus back to Harry, washing her hands, then drying them, she shook hands with Harry's friends. "Nice to meet you. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, right?"

"That's us," Ron answered.

"Nice to meet you," Hermione added.

"I was just seeing your friend's classroom. In case you're wondering, I'll be continuing Lupin's work with Dark objects. Books will be needed- is something wrong?" she added, seeing the looks on their faces.

"No, it's just that Umbridge- sorry, should I say Dolores, just to differentiate?- always made us read the books just to halt our progress," Hermione explained.

"So I heard; that was because she was stupid and hardly a professor to begin with. She may have been a Slytherin to the bone, while I was a Ravenclaw; I'm seldom seen without a book in my hand."

Hermione giggled while Ron grinned. "Anyway, I'll just set up my belongings in my office. I'll see you three on Friday."

"'Bye," they called after her as she left.

They turned back to Nemorphus, who was glad to see that Harry's friends were in their right state of mind. They actually liked it, which relieved Harry greatly. As Harry put his serpentine friend on his desk, he asked the other two a question. "So, how long have you two been together now?"

Both of them immediately looked wary and diverted their attention elsewhere. "C'mon," he wheedled, "I know both of you like each other; it was apparent ever since that disastrous Yule Ball during our fourth year."

Both of them blushed, and finally, Ron said, "Well, we knew we loved each other, but not as friend friends, at the end of our fourth year, but things kind of got put on hold with the tournament, and well... you know... everything that followed..."

"That's great; I knew both of you would get along fine. But why didn't you tell me last year?"

Hermione spoke up this time. "Harry, I mean, you were going through so much, you were being cornered on all sides by one thing or another, you were always angry, and we didn't know how to tell you."

Harry thought this over and said, "I understand. I think I'm past that phase now. So, which subject do you want to do the homework for when we get back to Gryffindor Tower?"

They were about to answer when shrieks were heard from outside the room. Harry's head snapped around, and he found that Nemorphus was gone. "Damn!" he muttered. "He must have slithered out!"

Dashing out into the hallway, he saw his Runespoor slithering around menacingly; boys screamed as girls shrieked and flattened themselves against the wall, and Nemesis was shouting, "I smell bacon! I want bacon!"

"Sorry about that," he said to everybody as he scooped up his pet, "He slithered out when I wasn't looking; for an immature Runespoor, he's fast."

"You forgot to feed us lunch, genius," Momus grumbled.

"Sorry; c'mon, I'll take you to the kitchens now." As Ron and Hermione came up to them, he said, "I'll meet you back in the common room, just as soon as I feed him, er, them."

Ignoring the glares from bystanders, Harry let Nemorphus wrap himself around his shoulders as Morpheus started singing: "I want bacon, I want liver, Snake Snacks, Snake Snacks, please deliver..." (3)

~*~*~*~

The afternoon dripped away as Harry and Neville helped their friends with all the homework, depending on which classes which person was taking. Later on the way to dinner, they were a floor above the Great Hall when Ginny flying at them, with Draco panting to catch up to her. "She- wants- to- show- you- something..." he managed to get out before leaning against the wall. With a devious smile that confirmed her relation to her twin brothers, she took out another copy of Teen Witch Weekly.

"Egads, Ginny, no," Harry moaned. "Just see the top three teenage wizards," she pleaded. "Neville, Draco, you too," she added.

Quickly exchanging glances, the three boys took a look.

3. DRACO MALFOY. Who would have thought that this aristocratic Slytherin was such a sweetheart? In an unexpected turn of events, he has even defied the Dark Lord and his own father (foul language aside). Not many people would dive in the way of a Cruciatus Curse for that matter either (the target being Ginny Weasley, by the way)! Ask just about any student at Hogwarts, and they claim that he and Harry Potter have been going at each other since Day One; it must have taken a lot of will for the two to finally work together against You-Know-Who! Way to go, Draco!

2. HARRY POTTER. He makes it SOMEwhere onto our list once again! Even while juggling his roles as student, 'Assistant Professor,' and the one to defeat You-Know-Who relentlessly, he still has time for a game of Quidditch on the side (and maybe a date with some lucky girl, wink wink!). Excellent job with saving Ginny's life, Harry! We know he's not one for publicity, so he'll have no problem with being moved down a notch to make room for the #1 teen wizard of the week...

1. NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM! If we had an MP award (Most Improved), it would have to go to this delightful young man! No one would believe that Neville used to be clumsy and have wand trouble, the way he fights! His parents, both Aurors, were tortured and incapacitated by the Lestranges, but did that cause Neville hesitate to take on Bellatrix Lestrange last night? No sir! One of several students that Potter has taught defense, he has also found a way to resist the same curse, which was used against his parents! This was after he snuck potions to fling Death Eaters around like rag dolls. Let's not forget his 'phoenix flight' to save Harry and Ginny's lives! Sorry, Harry, but next time, look before you leap! Oh, and for the Cruciatus Curse, the top Healers are trying to figure out how he built immunity even as we speak. Congratulations, Neville!

Harry was beaming while Neville looked thunderstruck. "Congratulations, Neville!" he said, putting his arm around his friend's shoulder. "I'm glad to be out of the spotlight for once."

Draco was at a loss for words. Finally, he said, "I wonder what my father would think; I basically insulted Lord Butt-Ugly right to his face."

"'Lord Butt-Ugly?'" Harry asked incredulously.

Draco shrugged. "I like making up insults like that; it's like an art form."

As they entered the hall, there was some cheering as people slapped Neville on the back and cheered him on; a group of Hufflepuff girls shouted at him "We love you, Neville!" as they passed. The poor boy looked about ready to throw up. Harry whispered in his ear, "I think I'll let you sweat this out; see you at our table if you don't get mobbed first."

Harry had barely turned to walk to the Gryffindor table when someone said, "Hi, Neville, Harry!"

It was Susan Bones. She was holding an ink-loaded quill in one hand and her copy of Teen Witch Weekly in the other. "Neville, could you please sign this for me?" she asked with a smile and voice that made Neville blush.

"Um, sure, of course," he said, taking them and signing her. As he handed them back, Harry said, "So, how are you two doing these days?"

Neville flinched while Susan did a double take. He grinned; "It was obvious. Besides, Susan, I think you're great with Neville; he's strong and since he's so good in Herbology, I'm sure he'll always have some sort of bouquet on hand."

Neville continued to blush until he was tomato red while Susan giggled. "Anyway, see you this Tuesday for the Chocolate Frog Card convention. 'Bye, Susan." (This was a temporary fake name for the Order of the Stag.)

"'Bye, Harry," she said as she continued to talk to Neville for a few more minutes.

Harry was buttering a roll a few minutes later when he heard feminine giggling a few seats down from him. Parvati and Lavender were giggling as Neville walked past, saying things like, "Will you sign my book bag, Neville?" or "Will you be my bodyguard, Neville? You can even be in our dormitory to protect us." This also bought in some snickering from other girls.

This continued in some vein with excessive giggling until the pair of instigators went suddenly silent. It seemed that Neville had used a Silencing Charm on his female classmates.

"That's enough," he said, regaining his composure, "As prefect, I'm telling both of you to stop teasing. Oh, you already stopped, never mind." This bought on laughter from Harry and his other friends, and even Neville loosened up a little. The Silencing Charm wore off and both Parvati and Lavender looked outraged.

"Neville, dear, don't forget I'm a prefect too!" Parvati whined.

"Yeah, and we're only concerned about your well-being," Lavender added.

Now Neville had something in his eyes that looked like... anger? "No, it's called flirting, which is really annoying me." By now, nearly the entire hall was listening to the fight.

Ginny took up his defense. "Parvati, you and Neville are only prefects while Ron and Hermione are catching up with her schoolwork. And Lavender, you're basically swooning over him because of some voting for some magazine."

Parvati said, "You read it too!"

Lavender piped up, "You're upset that you can't get your hands on Harry anymore, so now you're trying to go after Neville instead. You can't even seem to have a single boyfriend for more than a few months, so who are you to talk?"

"Shut up!" Harry warned them, but it was too late; the damage had been done. Almost all of the plates on the table broke as though that had been dropped from the Astronomy Tower, the goblets cracked and fell apart, and the cutlery on the table was jumping, and everyone in the hall went silent. Letting out an angry growl, Ginny slowly got up, rising like some monster from the deep; she had certainly grown over the past several months, and she towered over Parvati and Lavender, who were frozen in their seats. Neville took several steps backwards and fell against the Hufflepuff table, Hermione raised a hand to her mouth, Ron said, "Well, it was nice knowing you girls," and Harry instinctively got up out of his seat and backed up several feet.

"Go running after boys, huh? At least I don't go kissing up to them like you do or obsess over the magazine! If anyone tries hogging the limelight, IT'S YOU TWO!" Ginny shouted, her voice echoing off the hall, her face turning the color of her hair, an aura of fury radiating off of her, and a rant beginning that would have made her mother proud. "At least I'm not some giggling nincompoop like you two, who worship people like Harry and Neville when they want nothing to do with it! You're a pair of popularity-seeking parasites! You talk about heroism like they were made Quidditch captains or something! They've been through horrible experiences like watching friends die, being tortured, watching other people get tortured, enduring horrible injuries, even nearly getting killed themselves! You think all that fighting is fun and games? You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about! How you can spend hours on end gazing into Professor Trelawny's crystal balls and not even notice what I just mentioned is beyond me!"

Parvati looked outraged while Hermione looked at Ginny with something like pride. "Don't you dare bring Prof-"

"DID I SAY I WAS DONE?" she raised her voice. Parvati quickly recoiled; even the staff didn't want to interfere (Harry suspected they knew that Ginny inherited her mother's temper). "I was not insulting Professor Trelawny! My point of that statement was how you can claim to be so observant and not even notice what's been happening lately! Forget Harry and Neville for a moment; my experiences weren't all that great either! Not only was being possessed in my first year by that sixteen-year- old version of that MONSTER bad enough! Just try what's been happening in the past twenty-four hours! I got hit with the Cruciatus Curse once, and it would have happened again if Draco hadn't taken in the hit, I nearly got my arm sliced off my one of my older brothers who betrayed my family-" her voice cracked a little here as people looked at her sympathetically "-got kidnapped by him, got dropped hundreds of feet above the ground after Harry stopped him, and nearly left a crater in the ground if Neville hadn't flown in with Professor Dumbledore's phoenix! It wasn't exactly like being a rescued princess, unlike you two might think!" After taking a deep breath, she finished, "Do you want to endure all that? It's not fun, you know!"

Lavender took the offensive. "No, but we want you to stop yelling at us, you temperamental little Amazon! You probably couldn't even defend yourself if the Death Eaters were armed only with the forks, knives, and spoons on this table, because you're probably too used to having your brothers defend you!"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop down to freezing levels as everyone gasped and Ginny raised her wand, with a truly angry look on her face at that accusation. 'How much blood can rush to that girl's face?' Harry wondered. Ron got out of his seat and hid behind Hermione, who was paralyzed with fear. Neville actually tried hiding underneath the Hufflepuff table.

Suddenly, Ginny had a very devious smile on her face that could have sent her twin brothers running with their tails between their legs. "Oh, why ever would you say such a thing, Lavender?" she asked coldly; the hall seemed to hold its collective breath. "I faced at least a dozen Death Eaters with my friends last summer, and they were all armed with wands. Let's see how well you'd do against your own challenge, hm?"

Pointing her wand at the table, all the forks, spoons and knives momentarily glowed blue as she muttered words Harry couldn't identify. As Ginny began to hum a tune he recognized as "Ride of the Valkyries" by Wagner, the cutlery slowly levitated and pointed at the now-terrified pair of girls. As she continued humming, the cutlery began to fly at Parvati and Lavender, shouting, "Flirts! Flirts!" as they did so. The two girls were eventually chased out of the hall, screaming with their hands protectively over their heads. (4)

At this point, laughter rang throughout the hall. Harry and his friends collapsed as Ginny smiled for the first time since the start of the incident. Ron clapped his hand on his sister's shoulder and said, "That was bloody brilliant!" Hermione said, "You have to teach me that one, Ginny!" Neville popped his head out from under the Hufflepuff table and was helped up by Ernie Macnamillan and Hannah Abbott.

The teachers were also cracking up, with one exception: Professor McGonagall. She got up and said, "Miss Weasley, you are a prefect! You stop that and undo the cutlery right now or- or-" she broke off sniggering and had to hide her face to prevent the students from seeing her amusement at this.

~*~*~*~

After dinner, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Draco were leaving the hall when Professor Dumbledore came up to them. "We should be able to see Professor Lupin in St. Mungo's now; we'll take the Floo Network from Harry's office."

"How about Cho and Luna? Do they want to come?"

"They send their regards (and a couple of 'get well soon' cards), but with the O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s approaching, they're taking their studying very seriously and putting their Ravenclaw minds to the limit."

"Speaking of which, we won't stay long, will we?" Ginny asked. "I mean, I feel sorry for Professor Lupin, but I'm sure he'd want me to study for my O.W.L.s."

"Of course, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said with that twinkle in his eyes, "I understand perfectly; I imagine your friends have told you horror stories about the stress and strain of those important exams-"

"'-which will determine the rest of my future,' I know," Ginny finished for him, but with a genuine smile on her face.

"Precisely. And now, let us depart for St. Mungo's."

~*~*~*~

As they dropped out of the fireplace into the hospital, a few witches turned and gasped, amazed that three of their heroes were part of the same entourage. There was some feminine shrieking and cheering, but it only resulted in judicial Silencing Charms cast by irate healers at the disturbance.

In the ward on the floor for Spell Damage, Lupin lay in a bed, reading the book Harry gave him for Christmas. He turned his head and saw them; he looked my tired than usual, but cheerful all the same. "Hi. Nice to see you. Thanks for visiting."

"How are you feeling, Remus?" Dumbledore asked.

"Getting better, although I'll still be here for a month. The silver left some sort of burns that need to be healed."

"Professor, what will you do during the full moon?" Harry asked.

He sighed. "Wolfsbane Potion; I don't want to risk transforming in my current state of health. I wonder what you'll do during the full moon without a fellow Marauder, Harry."

"Weather's too cold anyway. Besides, guess who our substitute DADA teacher is?"

As his fellow visitors exchanged amused glances, Lupin got suspicious and asked, "Who, exactly?"

"Professor Umbridge," Harry said casually.

Lupin nearly leapt straight out of his bed. "HER!? That wretch? Albus, how could you-" he broke off as he saw everyone starting to laugh.

"I think Harry means Professor Felicity Rose Umbridge, or better known as Professor la Fontaine, who is nothing at all like her younger sister," Dumbledore calmly explained with that twinkle in his eye. "I would never allow a repeat of Dolores Jane Umbridge as part of the staff."

Lupin rolled his eyes. "Very funny, Harry. What happened after I passed out?"

The group exchanged worried glances this time and explained the encounter with Percy. Lupin looked mollified by the end of it. "That's horrible; absolutely horrible. Arthur and Molly must be upset."

"We still are," came a voice from behind them; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley walked up to them. Mrs. Weasley had obviously been crying a lot while her husband looked pale and tired.

"Mum! Dad! What are you two doing here?" Ron asked.

"Visiting your professor, of course," his mother chided him. She held up a box she was carrying and said, "We thought you could use something, Remus. I even packed some healthy foods to help you regain your strength."

"Thanks, Molly, although I think you might make the Healers jealous," Lupin said, accepting her package.

After chuckling quietly, Mrs. Weasley turned to her youngest son, looked him straight in the eye, and started sobbing while pulling him into one of her infamous bear hugs. "Mum? What-?"

"I shouldn't have sent you that Howler at the beginning of the year!" she managed to get out. "I'm so sorry, Ron, I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have humiliated you, I- I- I-"

"Mum, it's OK, shhh," Ron said, hugging her back. "I'm pretty sure I was aware of what I was doing some of the time anyway, so please don't dwell on it. Besides, I've seen something almost as scary as you in a bad mood."

Regaining control of herself, she asked, "And what might that be?"

"Ginny when she's in a bad mood."

Ginny blushed while her parents turned to look at her. "Why, what happened?" their father asked.

With some help from her friends, she recounted the incident at dinner earlier. By the end of it, Dumbledore had that twinkle in his eye, Lupin chuckled, Mrs. Weasley was laughing heartily, and her father said, "GINNY! How could you do that to the cutlery?"

"You know, Mr. Weasley, I that you'd be more concerned about the girls that the cutlery was chasing," Hermione asked, causing more laughter.

The red-haired matron pulled her daughter into one of those motherly hugs and said, "Awww! My little girl, all grown up and so wise! I'm so proud of you for defending Harry and Neville- even if you shouldn't have done that with the cutlery, since you ARE a prefect..."

Ginny hugged her mother all the same in spite of that last comment. The younger Weasley woman then added, "McGonagall gave me detention for a few days, but it was worth it all the same..."

Looking for a different subject, Lupin asked, "By the way, do you realize that the Minister is here in St. Mungo's?"

He caught everyone's attention with that one. "What do you mean?" Neville asked.

Lupin sighed. "Apparently, they used several dementors and even an occasional Cruciatus Curse; they were trying to question him about information for the 'bird-watching club.'" Harry knew they meant the Order of the Phoenix by this. "Fortunately, he can't reveal that information because of the oath he took when he joined us; binding magical contract. He's not as bad as Neville's parents, but he's still pretty shook up; he might be able to recover entirely within a few months. As soon as he remembered how to talk and write, he wrote out his resignation, saying he couldn't handle it anymore."

Hermione gasped. "So what will we do now about a new Minister?"

"Madame Bones will continue holding that position, and candidates will be chosen over the course of the next month or so," Dumbledore explained. "All those of age will be allowed to vote for the candidates on January 30th and 31st. The new Minister will be selected on February 1st."

Lupin added to his students, "Anyway, we have something to discuss here; be back in about ten minutes."

They all nodded and left. On the way out, Mrs. Weasley pulled Draco into a hug. "Thank you so much for helping out my daughter; you're such a young gentleman. I don't know many people who would dive in the way of a Cruciatus Curse."

"Er, yeah, thanks," he gasped, between the constrictions of his breathing and caught by surprise at this.

Once outside, Ron looked at Draco with his jaw dropping. "I- I- I-" the redhead stuttered.

"I was expecting the hug either, if it makes you feel any better," Draco drawled in a bored voice whose tone said "let's not discuss this anymore."

Neville piped up, "I was hoping to see my parents again, if the ward's open; maybe they might be getting better."

"Can't think of anywhere else to go anyway, so why not? I just want to avoid Lockhart at all costs," Harry answered.

As their feet took them to the ward, Draco responded, "You know, another reason I kind of detested you was because you were the one who managed to drive Lockhart nuts."

Harry turned his head so fast he cricked his neck. "What do you mean?"

"The guy irritated me from Day One, and even though you didn't prove it until the end of the year, I knew that somehow his books were frauds. I was hoping to drive him insane by the end of the year. Remember that stupid test of his on the first day, where practically every single question was related to him? I deliberately wrote in answers that would annoy him. Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer. 'How would he like to be buried? Facing a mirror. When's his birthday? 32nd of Octember. When did he decide to fight evil? At the age of 26, when his mother kicked him out of her basement. What's his favorite bodily function? I'd rather not answer that...' Even if he took some points from Slytherin, it was certainly a lot of fun and definitely worth it." (5)

Harry and Ron were clinging onto each other for support from laughing so hard. Hermione tried not to guffaw, and Ginny was giggling next to a grinning Neville. He even went on, "Oh, and Harry, you thought you were humiliated by the Valentine you got? (No offense, Ginny.) You're lucky; at least yours was affectionate. You should have seen Lockfart after I had one of those stupid dwarfs sing my Valentine in front of the entire class. 'His eyes are a clear sky blue,/ His wavy hair is like gold interwoven./ Oh Gilderoy Lockhart, how I want to kill you!/ Love, the Heir of Slytherin.' He went completely catatonic for the rest of the class, which was a pleasant switch, without him rambling on about the things he had supposedly done."

"That was mean!" Hermione protested as the others howled with laughter. "You may not have had the life I thought you had, but you've still been cruel from time to time! What about last year when you were part of the Inquisitorial Squad and when you took points off the other Houses?"

"That's a good point," Ron added, his mirth fading. "Harry never did ask you those when you had the Veritaserum."

Draco maintained his composure and addressed his case like a lawyer in court. "My father commanded me to do everything for Umbridge in order to look good; I had no problem with taking off points either, and back then, when he said 'jump,' I said 'how high.' You Gryffies may complain to high heaven about Snape, but believe me, there are plenty of times when it seems like people are out for Slytherin blood. What about in our first year when Dumbledore suddenly springs 170 points for Gryffindor, right after announcing us the winners? That was a real kick in the- well, you know; if he wanted to award them, he should have done it in private, and he shouldn't have done it to be so humiliating."

There was silence as they digested all of this. Ron interjected, "What about Quidditch last year? Let's not forget all that."

"You lose three players, my team captain somehow winds up in a toilet with his memory all wrong, and you win the Cup anyway; you can't say that wasn't all that bad."

More silence, until Neville added, "He's got a point."

"Thank you, Longbottom. Anyway, is this the right ward?" They were in front of the Janus Thickey ward, and Neville confirmed it. He knocked on the door, and a Healer that hadn't been there last time came to it and poked her head out. "Yes?" she asked.

Neville took a breath, then spoke up. "We're here to see Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom; I'm their son, Neville."

The Healer smiled. "Ah, yes, I heard about it in the Daily Prophet; my niece also reads Teen Witch Weekly. I saved copies of the issues for your parents – just in case." At this, her smile faded a little. "Here, come on in."

It was Christmas the last time they were in here; now, without the decorations, it looked a little gloomier. Thankfully, Lockhart was asleep, so there was no trouble from him. There was even Minister Fudge, lying on a bed, staring up at the ceiling with a man sitting next to him. The man was writing down directions from the Minister (which were murmured), and while packing his things away, the man looked up and saw the students.

"Ah," he said in an unnaturally calm sort of voice, but still sounded rather slick and oily, "Mr. Potter and his friends. My name is Joseph Cornwall; I'm the Scribe for the Minister."

"I remember you," Harry said, "You were at Umbridge's trial."

The man's face seemed to twitch for a moment, but it passed. "Indeed. The Minister was looking for a replacement for Percy Weasley, who suddenly vanished on some job."

Ron and Ginny's faces darkened. "I read that issue of the Daily Prophet, of course," Mr. Cornwall added, "His youngest brother and sister, yes?"

"That's us," Ron answered.

"You-Know-Who's return seems to have struck him hard," Cornwall said, "I think he's cracked under strain and pressure."

"He cared more about his job than about us," Ginny growled.

"So, what's been going on the Ministry, that is, if we're allowed to ask?" Hermione inquired.

"Well, we obviously need a new Minister, and I was just conversing with Mr. Fudge. Now that he's getting better, I have no problem whether or not to take him seriously with what he says."

"Actually," Harry added, "I think she meant other things, like Umbridge's sudden strength at her trial, the spy during the Halloween attack, all that stuff."

The scribe blinked. "Oh, that, I thought you were talking about more recent events. Well, Aurors and the sort are still trying to find out what happened, and they keep ruffling through my sheets, files, documents, etc.," he continued in that same monotone calm. "Anyway, it was interesting to meet you. Good day." With that, Cornwall floated out.

"Weird," Harry said at last. To his side, Fudge grunted in his sleep; he had obviously fallen asleep within the few minutes during his conversation with Cornwall. "Yes, Harry, I'm sure Dolores Umbridge would love to adopt you..."

Harry pulled a disgusted look. "Godspeed on his recovery," he said at last. He then turned to Neville. "By the way, Neville, can we see your parents?"

He shrugged. "Sure, follow me." A few beds down, he separated the curtains.

Alice Longbottom was huddled on her bed, staring out in front of her. Frank Longbottom lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, not even blinking.

Hermione and Ginny both gasped. Ron paled while Draco looked thunderstruck. "So that's what they did to them?" he said.

"Yes, Draco," Harry said gravely, "Uncles Rodolphus and Rabastain and Aunt Bellatrix did that."

Draco gave him a hard look. "They are, or were, only that biologically. Besides, the way my father-" his voice strained a little at mentioning his father, who had once been his muscle "-made it sound as though what happened to them was... humorous or something."

"What's humorous about this?" Neville spat, indicating his parents.

"My point exactly," Draco said, disgust on his face, "My father obviously has a twisted sense of humor, and he probably belongs in this ward, chained to his bed the whole day with judicious Silencing Charms put on him."

Ron looked at Draco with something like admiration. Very slowly, he said, "Draco, that was, without a doubt, the best thing I've ever heard you say."

Harry, in the meantime, looked at it Neville's mother. She looked him straight in the eye for a moment as if acknowledging his presence, then stared back in her usual direction. He turned back to Neville. "Do you think if I told them that the Lestrange brothers are dead, maybe that would cheer them up and maybe help them focus?"

"The Healers have tried saying familiar words, but it doesn't seem to stir their memory. You could try, I suppose."

Gathering himself, he sat down on the bed next to Mrs. Longbottom and started to talk to her as though she were a child half his age. "Er, Mrs. Longbottom? My name is Harry Potter. My parents, James and Lily, worked with you. Your son, Neville, is one of my friends. Both of us have fought Voldemort and his Death Eaters a few times within the past few months. If it's any consolation, I managed to kill Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. Neville even got into a few newspapers and magazines after saving my life and Ginny Weasley's; he's practically getting mobbed by lots of girls at school. Sound interesting?"

No response whatsoever came from the incapacitated Alice Longbottom. Harry turned back to the others, who were watching, and said, "It was worth a shot."

Harry tried mentioning individual words this time. "Spiculae Argentae? Phoenix? Dumbledore? Auror? Gryffindor?"

"Where did that last word come from?" Ginny interrupted.

"I don't kn-" suddenly, Harry was cut off as Neville's mother grabbed him; Hermione screamed while Neville flinched.

Paralyzed with shock and fear, Harry sat there while Mrs. Longbottom sputtered several different words that Harry only managed to catch: "Fire... sword... bird...lion... ruby... tree... wand... enemy... power... heir..." With that she slumped back, exhausted, and fell asleep.

The Healer came rushing over. "What's wrong?" she asked hurriedly.

"Neville's mother. She... started mentioning stuff. Do you have something I can write with?"

After procuring a quill and piece of parchment, Harry jotted down the words mentioned, dried the ink, and stuffed it away in his robes. "Thanks. Anyway, we'd better be going back now."

After Neville hugged both his parents (which left Hermione looking as though she'd cry), they hurried back to the ward Lupin was in. Mr. & Mrs. Weasley and Dumbledore came out just as they rushed up to them. "We were wondering what had happened," Dumbledore said calmly.

"My... mum... said... stuff..." Neville panted as Harry gave him the parchment. Dumbledore accepted it without even looking at it. "I will study it later," he said by way of explanation. With that, they left.

~*~*~*~

Later that night, in his office, Dumbledore was getting ready for bed in his private quarters (which were adjacent to his office) when he remembered the parchment. His eyes scanned the ten words scrawled in Harry's narrow handwriting, and then flew wide open. Oh, great, now he remembered months later! The last time he had seen that book was after the discussion with Snape regarding Harry's letter the previous summer.

Abandoning the task of getting into his nightclothes (and forgetting that he was half-dressed), he ran back into his office and conducted an unorthodox search for the book he had from the library since last summer. The portraits watched him, some with concern, and others with amusement. Fawkes sang a curious note as Dumbledore got down on his knees to look under the table, which supported the case containing Gryffindor's sword.

"'Eureka! I've found it!'" he excitedly quoted Archimedes as he pulled out the book from under the table. Wiping the dust off, he started with the title: "Mysteries of the Hogwarts Founders." He quickly flipped to the section of unsolved questions regarding Godric Gryffindor and began to read... (6)

~*~*~*~

Harry felt cheerful once again as the school week started. With Ron and Hermione by his side, everything felt wonderful once again. Both of them confided in Harry that they had monitoring spells on them to help regulate their health, in case the mental illnesses struck again. There were a few differences, however, and Lupin's absence was actually far from being one of the more important ones.

Ginny had actually developed a sort of athletic physique from working so hard in her efforts that she actually started getting looks from some of the male population. Ron was always hovering around her these days, acting as though every boy in the school would lunge for her if he had his back turned for one moment. Harry knew that Ron still sort of babied Ginny; maybe it was just hard for him to accept the fact that she was growing up. Harry had to admit she was beautiful, and even though he treated her as she deserved, since she was his surrogate sister, Harry often saw something in her chocolate brown eyes, which dispelled that notion and told them that their relation was more than platonic.

Cho, on the other hand, looked more and more distressed every time he saw her. The most they ever talked was when she said something like "very busy, must work more and get some more sleep," and dashed off. Harry concluded that it was the N.E.W.T.s taking their toll on her, and decided to send an owl to her next time, just in case.

In Potions on Monday, Snape and Hermione seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss the incident and to pretend it never happened. Today, they were doing a tactic in their N.E.W.T. level Potions classes; making the same Potions as a week before, but from their memory, without the instructions present. Undaunted by the incident, Hermione did quite well.

Later that afternoon, Harry dashed up to the Room of Requirement to meet Dumbledore, except he wasn't present. Standing before him with the "cold professor" look on his face, waiting patiently with his wand in one hand, was Professor Snape.

"Hello, Potter," he said, "the Headmaster has been unavoidably detained for the time being, and will be very busy this week. He asked me to assist."

"Hello, Professor," Harry said, his face and voice neutral but with a little confusion in his voice.

Snape, who rarely missed detail of any sort, noticed the confusion. "Confused, Potter? Disappointed?"

"Nothing. I figured that if we had both come up here from the dungeons, we would have taken some of the same routes, or at least seen each other."

"I have my own ways, Potter," he sneered. "You read the first chapter of the book Professor Dumbledore assigned you? May I see it please?"

"Of course." He took it out and handed it to his Professor. Snape looked at it and continued, "As you read, Potter, a critical point to both Occlumency and Legilimency is arranging your memories into spheres, based on different points in your life, different emotions these memories cause, etc. Today, we'll be alternating in order to demonstrate how it works."

Harry opened his mouth to ask, but Snape beat him to it. "Yes, Potter, my more private and crucial memories are stored in a Pensieve on the side. I'll go first. Relaxed and calm?"

Cleansing his mind, Harry said, "Yes, sir."

"Good. One- two- three- Legilimens!"

Harry blocked out most of the memories, but a few of them surfaced. He was six, waking up in the closet and getting the spiders out of his socks... A teacher with a blue wig was shouting at him... He was stuck on the school roof after he had jumped in order to escape Dudley and his gang... Aunt Petunia was giving him that ridiculous haircut to hide his scar... 'OUT!' he thought.

The swarm of memories stopped, and he was back on his feet, though bending forward a little. "As you can see, Potter, since most of your memories were grouped together this time, unlike last year, where they were mixed together and so I jumped from one to another."

"Why did you see all the memories of when I was with the Dursleys and I didn't know what magic was yet?"

"Actually, that was as completely random as picking a ball out of a bag without looking in it. The same way a person tries to select a happy memory for conjuring a Patronus, a Legilimens has to concentrate on a certain kind of category of the person whose mind they are observing, like emotions connected or the age when they happened." Snape's eyes suddenly narrowed into obsidian slivers. "What were those memories anyway?"

Harry's eyes widened. He didn't want Snape of all people to know about his life with the Dursleys, even if he and the professor had come to some sort of understanding. He never felt comfortable about sharing that sort of life with anyone... well, except maybe for Cho, since she showed how trustworthy she could be. Even in his letter to Snape the previous summer, he left out the taboo fact about having to use a closet as a bedroom for ten years...

"Well, if you're a master Legilimens, sir, shouldn't you be able to see right now?" he asked slyly, with a dash of nervousness.

"For the first time since our last lesson, Potter, your Occlumency has improved to where it's getting much more difficult to get past your mental defenses like I once used to. You tell me."

Taking a deep breath, and praying reverently to every known and obscure deity, he said, "Before Hogwarts, before Hagrid told me I was a wizard when I turned eleven, sometimes I would cause magic and not realize it. One time I turned my teacher's wig blue... another time my aunt tried giving me a ridiculous haircut to cover my scar since it was so untidy... and as for the closet, well..."

"I'm listening," Snape growled a little impatiently.

Harry sighed; this was taking more courage than fighting Voldemort. "For ten years, that closet was my bedroom."

The words reverberated around the room with a stuffy sort of air; Harry felt the mad desire to glance towards the window to make sure there weren't any signs of the Apocalypse taking place because of his revealed secret. Snape looked at him in a feral sort of way that made Harry think of vampires.

"They what?" Snape asked, using his quiet voice that was the deadly one.

Harry answered in a tone as though he were in a confessional. "They made me sleep in the closet. They thought that by keeping me downtrodden, they could squash the magic out of me, since they didn't want a wizard in the house. The second bedroom was used as a guest room, also to store my cousin's broken toys and untouched books. It was only after my first Hogwarts letter came that they decided to let me sleep in the bedroom.

"It all started with that first Hogwarts letter, addressed, 'Mr. H. Potter, the Cupboard Under the Stairs, etc.' Then the next day, it was addressed, 'The Smallest Bedroom.' Every day, more and more letters would come, eventually shoved through cracks or stuffed in egg cartons and other bizarre ways, only to get ripped up, shredded, burned, any way my relatives could destroy them. They finally had it by the end of the week; my uncle was just saying how there would be no post, because it was a Sunday, when about forty of them got shoved down through the fireplace."

Snape was struck by the revelation of the Dursley's obstinacy to prevent Harry from attending Hogwarts, although he allowed himself a tiny smirk at the details of their losing battle. During that day when the other professors met with Harry's relatives to discuss bringing allegations against Umbridge, Snape was amazed at the Dursley's behavior, in spite of their mixed fear and hatred of all things magical, including having five of Potter's professors in their house. Snape noticed their possible obsession with distancing themselves as far from magic as possible, like with the house's clean, antiseptic appearance, for example. The relatives were silent the whole time, except for the fiasco with Fawkes and the kitchen table, of course.

Snape had heard rumors from students about Harry's relatives in the past, but he dismissed them. The Dursley's cooperation seemed to disprove them further, even though he heard about a few Order members warning them about Harry's treatment at the end of the previous year. Still, something was wrong...

"I heard about the Order threatening them last year, Potter," he said at last. "I suppose the threat got through?"

"Not just that. I think they were actually grateful for me saving my cousin from the dementors Umbridge sent; normally, I think they would have blamed me for it. Well, my uncle certainly did at first. I was hoping they could witness Umbridge's trial as, well, sort of a way to show them that I'm not a threat to them just because I'm a wizard. Even though they seem to have been nicer for other reasons, it's still, well, rather strange..."

"We can discuss that later, Potter. By the way, as for that, er, haircut... what happened with that?"

With some trepidation, Harry answered, "I had nightmares about how I would be laughed at, and by the next morning, all of it grew back. I was happy... or, at least, until they locked me in the closet for a week for having somehow done that."

"I see." 'Could he be a Metamorphmagus?' Snape wondered. 'I'll have to ask Albus or Tonks about that.' "Anyway, your turn. Try to focus on a particular emotion or age. You know the incantation."

Harry was hesitant at the thought of trying this on Snape, but the professor had told him to do it, so obviously it was what he should do. With some thought, he decided to try Snape's years at a student, but choose memories without the Marauders in it. "Um, OK. One-"

"Just say it, Potter; being a master Legilimens, I'm always ready."

"Fine then. LEGILIMENS!"

Maybe he put too much force into it, because he actually felt as though he was part of the memories. He was watching Snape brew a Potion for his O.W.L.s... Snape was twelve, talking to a sixteen-year-old boy with a pointed face and cold gray eyes... Snape was sixteen, being comforted by a girl with auburn hair and green eyes...

He was pushed back out and stumbled against the wall. Snape breathed a little heavily, but he regained control of himself. "It seems I didn't realize I still had that last memory," he said at last.

Harry organized his thoughts, and said at last, "The last two people... were they-?"

Snape cut across him. "The boy was Lucius Malfoy, who was four years ahead of me in school. I think you may have guessed who the girl was."

"My mother?"

"Indeed."

"If you don't mind me asking, sir, what were you talking about?"

Snape paused, then said calmly, "She was warning me about your father's next prank that he planned."

Harry took the hint and didn't press it any further. The rest of the lesson went back and forth, each of them delving into the other's memories. Snape dove into Harry's exploits, although if he went too far into the occasional romantic moment, Harry immediately pushed him back out. Harry decided to look for moments in Snape's life as a student, possibly learning things that Snape once learned, although he tried to steer clear of any possible humiliating experiences. Neither of them got very far (although Snape was a master Legilimens, he only let his barriers down a certain amount, which his compared to "opening a window only so much.")

The last exchange, however, went rather uncomfortably. Snape saw a memory where he was forced to do all the cooking for the Dursleys, then a memory where got bruised hands because he was forced to do the gardening without gloves, and one time where Dudley and his gang went after him while he was washing the car (where they had dunked the bucket of liquid soap over his head and shoved the hose into his pants).

Snape looked as though he wanted to say something, but not just yet. "Try it one last time, and we'll be done for the day, Potter."

"Yes sir. Legilimens!"

Snape was about seven years old: he was watching from the corner of a room with fear as his father shouted at his mother. Snape's father had a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, and was currently on a verbal rampage.

"But Anthony, dear, he's just a boy, four years before he even goes to Hogwarts, that's plenty of time!" his mother pleaded.

"I don't give a hippogriff's ass; he should have developed some sort of magic by now!" his father shouted like some parody of a mad dictator. "Even Tiberius Malfoy's son Lucius was able to do magic when he was three! All that boy ever does is hide in the library or do your little 'cooking' classes! Brewing Potions can hardly be real magic, Chloe! Even a Muggle could do it, if they knew that half the ingredients even existed! He's tried out several wands I acquired from several different manufacturers, and nothing ever works! All he does is move it through the air! What a bunch of foolish wand-waving!"

'Get OUT!' Snape spoke-thought.

'Wait!' Harry responded. The memory continued.

"Anthony, dear, please!" she begged tearfully, huddling now, "Some of the best wizards weren't even capable of magic until they were within their year right before Hogwarts! I'm sure young Severus is just building up his magic for when he starts school! Imagine how good he'll be then!"

"Don't you dare try to diffuse me with your crappy Ravenclaw logic, you stupid cow! I've heard what you've told my son from time to time in your lab! 'Imagine, Severus, if you can put your mind to it, I can teach you to brew glory, bottle fame, even stopper death! All you have to do is apply yourself and work hard!' Pah! Enough with your idealism, Chloe, try being realistic for a change! How about conjuring glory, summoning fame, even controlling death? Bet that didn't occur to you at any point!

'Out NOW, Potter, or I will rip your head off and mount it on my wall!' Snape thought-screamed.

'Can't do that! Besides, let me see!' Harry responded.

Snape's father continued his rant. "I knew I never should have married you! What with your impure blood status, you've practically given me a Squib for a son! Congratulations, I hope you're proud of yourself, aren't you? The only good thing about that is that my son's initials can also stand for 'Stupid Squib!' What a disgrace! Maybe if I get lucky, he'll just fall headfirst into his cauldron one day and that will be the end of it!"

Harry felt himself gasp at the cruelness of Snape's father; the worst part of it was that he didn't even sound that inebriated, which meant that he knew what he was saying. The seven-year-old Snape burst out in tears at hearing his father saying anything so cruel, while his mother gasped, then resorted to outrage. "Don't you dare offend my son! At least I love him and I spent nine months preparing a life for him! Don't forget he's inherited about half your genes too!"

Just then, it occurred to Harry that he had glimpsed the same memory last year. That is, assuming that there weren't several fights like this (and he felt very sorry for Snape if that was the case).

"Like I said, half-blood who learns about magic from one parent and Muggle science from the other! What an outrage! I knew I should have taken my father's advice and had avoided you at all costs!"

Bravery overcoming her, she stood up, and looked him square in the eye. "You and your wizarding inbreeding hasn't helped at all. Halfblood and Muggle-born witches and wizards invalidate your so-called laws of nature. You're family is all dogs. Dogs who breed themselves. You've lost your honor and reduced yourself to just that!"

Younger Snape stopped crying and looked up, amazement in his eyes. They were quickly replaced by fear as his father screeched with anger, swinging his arm with the bottle in it. "TELL ME, CHLOE! WOULD A DOG BE CAPABLE OF DOING THIS?" At the word "this," he flung the bottle at her.

Whether or not it hit her, Harry never found out. He was thrown across the room and backwards into the wall as Snape got up, a look of utmost fury on his face. Harry had repeated the same mistake; he delved into Snape's worst memories. The beetle black eyes in the hawk-like visage were glowing like two suns during their eclipses, with their white coronas. The Potions Professor was furious, and Harry was sure that he would give him detention for all eternity and never help him again.

To put it mildly, he was screwed.

"Potter," he hissed. "I thought you'd learn from your mistakes. How arrogant you are, believing your curiosity should be fulfilled whenever you desire it. Arrogant in thinking that being a Gryffindor makes you noble enough to handle anything. You may not have realized it, but you have been quite a bit like your father during the past five years here at school."

For once, Harry had to admit that Snape was right on that point. "I- I'm sor-"

Snape regained his full towering height. "Of course, Potter, what happens in your Occlumency and Legilimency classes is not public knowledge, whether it's your memories or mine that have been seen."

"I know." At that point, Harry shook his head and sighed. "The irony of it, though, is horrible."

Snape blinked. "The irony of what?"

"Remember how I said that I accidentally performed all that wandless magic before Hogwarts when I was scared or something? I did quite a bit of it and got punished for it without really even knowing what it was; your father was unreasonably furious over the lack of you doing any magic at all."

Snape paused. How sensible and to the point Ha- no, Potter was over it. "Yes, now that you mention it, the irony is horrible. Somehow, though, I don't think he would have appreciated it if his hair turned blue or if I ended up stranded on the manor roof."

Harry smiled very slightly. Snape handed Harry back his book and said, "Read chapter two for tomorrow. Oh, and I'll know if you haven't practiced and studied."

"Of course. See you tomorrow."

"Good-bye." As Harry crossed the threshold, he heard a cauldron fall out of the air behind him; Harry shook his head. 'He needs to find a hobby that's not related to work,' he thought.

Snape watched Potter leave, his hair shaking like a bird's nest in the wind. Before he got back to work, he remembered: the Dursleys treated him abominably during that decade. Their monstrous son was bad enough, but making him the slave and bordering child abuse... it made Snape's blood boil hotter than a cauldron during Potions brewing. Snape knew that child abuse led to emotional problems which caused people to grow up bitter, like with Tom Riddle, for example; he hated it, because it made Riddle into Voldemort and made Snape's childhood hell. How could Albus possibly allow this!?

Snape remembered rumors at Hogwarts in the first year after Voldemort's downfall. Rumors about calm Dumbledore flying into mysterious rages after hearing about some nameless Muggles. All Dumbledore did was enter a room with his foul mood, and candles would melt, china would shatter, walls would crack, and furniture would splinter, or so they said. That must have been it; Dumbledore was observing Potter with his relatives.

Five years ago, Snape wouldn't have given a rat's tail over Potter (or any other insignificant potions ingredient in his store, for that matter). When Snape defected to to Dumbledore, the Headmaster told him about "the Plan and its Rules," which were crucial to the Dark Lord's final defeat, and somehow, Snape knew that little Harry Potter would be central to it as he grew up, but Snape took it all in stride. But that all changed when Dumbledore told him about the prophecy. If anything happened to Potter, the wizarding world could kiss its last chance for victory good- bye. Snape couldn't let that happen; he wanted Voldemort gone forever, and if it meant helping Potter, so be it.

Snape made sure he would talk about this with Albus later. In the meantime, he had work to do. He enjoyed Potions ever since he was a child because it relaxed him and took his mind off things, but there was a much deeper reason to all of that, one which made him such a manipulative Slytherin: The human desire to at least be in control of something in one's life. As more supplies and books appeared, he resumed his work.

~*~*~*~

The whole day, Harry couldn't shake what he had been feeling about Snape. The Slytherins noticed his pensive expression the whole time, but he helped them through it the best he could, and he knew that encouragement and a good mood from the teacher helped the students perform better. Harry wondered how they would react to seeing what had happened to their own Head of House as a child... not that he would do such a thing, of course. He simply wondered...

As the first-year Slytherins left, Mark Evans looked at Harry for a moment as though to say something, closed his mouth again, and just left. Harry had no choice but to think about other things as the second-years came in.

After the second years left, Harry was sitting at his desk, looking over homework when something in his memory clicked. What did Snape's father rant about? Brewing glory, bottling fame, stoppering death... oh yeah, and something about foolish wand-waving. It was all mentioned in Snape's speech at the beginning of Harry's first year (it was the kind to stick around in someone's memory). Harry definitely looked up to Snape now; he could sympathize with the man entirely.

~*~*~*~

The rest of the week was the normal routine, with the exception of Harry's lessons with Snape instead of Dumbledore doing them. Harry worked hard, and Snape even complimented him a little, though very slightly. To Harry, it seemed almost strange for him to be organizing his mind like this, as though he could actually delve inside his own skull and sort his memories like storage boxes in a closet; however, he worked at it nonetheless. Harry and Snape also came to an unspoken agreement not discuss each other's problems, since both of them had glimpsed memories of each other being abused by relations or tormented by bullies. Harry busied himself by reading whenever he got the chance; he was about halfway through "The Two Towers" by now. It seemed strange to him that he would end up being such a devoted reader, but he liked it anyway. More than five years ago, he wouldn't have believed in magic, Hogwarts, or any of this other stuff; so how different could this be?

Professor la Fontaine was certainly helpful, cheerful, honest, and wise; she was nothing like her deceitful sister. Harry knew too well how family members didn't always get along (case in point: his mother and his aunt). What endeared herself to the other students the most happened as she was walking through the halls one day when Peeves decided to cause some trouble.

Peeves swooped in overhead, carrying a sack of flour and dumping it over people, singing, "Oh, what is it now, each student's a ghost, and I think the original ghosts will like it the most..." He spotted Umbridge and remembered Fred's advice: "Give her hell from us, Peeves." In his most horrid, up-to-no-good voice, he said, "Why, look, it's Umbitch again! Guess she went insane and wanted to come back for more!"

People gasped while the substitute teacher merely smiled. "Ah, yes, Peeves. Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Felicity Rose Umbridge, a.k.a. Professor la Fontaine. Thanks for giving my dreadful sister what she deserved, but you're making a mess out of the castle and its students."

Peeves did a double take. "Oh great, another one-?"

"Hem hem," she mimicked, causing some laughter with a very wide humorous grin, "Flour belongs in the kitchen, as does this recipe: Poltergeist Calamari." Ignoring the blank looks, she took out her wand and continued, "Take one poltergeist, liberally cover in flour-" the flour sack swallowed Peeves whole "-shake thoroughly-" it shook in midair with Peeves screaming inside and then bounced back and forth off the walls "-add lots of water and a squid." With that, the Peeves-filled bag sailed out the window and into the lake, where a distant splash could be heard.

As she bowed and magically cleaned everyone up, they applauded, laughed and cheered. Harry, who was watching from a distance, laughed along with them.

Friday afternoon, however, seemed to be like a moment of truth for Harry, to see what Felicity Umbridge was really like. He tried hearing through the grapevine for what her classes were like, but he quickly gave up after hearing the more seemingly outrageous rumors (like having objects which could conjure up pumpkins and tomatoes or appear over people's heads to fall on them); gossip was never easy to follow, especially at Hogwarts.

As they filled into her classroom, she marked the place in the book she was reading. "Good afternoon, everyone," she said smiling. "As you surely know already, my name is Professor la Fontaine, unfortunately related to the person you suffered under last year. I'll be filling in for Professor Lupin for about a month, while he's recovering in St. Mungo's. I'm already up to speed with everything. Today, we will be observing how to disenchant and disarm an object that I know some of you have had the misfortune of experiencing last year."

Out of a case, she took out a Blood Quill. People gasped, and Harry reflexively grabbed his wand and aimed it. He blinked when he realized what he was doing and said, "Sorry, it's kind of a reflex by now."

Professor la Fontaine smiled and said, "I don't blame you. Unfortunately, setting it on fire wasn't what I had in mind." There was a little laughter as Harry sat back down.

Overall, it was an interesting lesson. Apparently there was a Dark enchantment called an Exsanguination Curse involved. Homework was to write up on it. Before they all left, their substitute added, "One other note: It's illegal to use this on someone, but I guess it has other uses, even if it's not intended for them..." to make her point, she conjured up a dartboard in midair, waved her wand to attach it to the wall, and threw the Blood Quill straight at it; it whistled through the air and hit it right in the center. There was some laughter and applause as she took a bow as though performing in a show.

As everyone else left, Harry met up with her. "That was an interesting lesson. Thanks."

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

"Exactly what do you teach back at whatever school it is in Canada?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. My husband and I also lead a non- profit organization for the rights of werewolves. I'm in charge of the Canadian chapter, but my opposite number here in England is a friend of mine."

"Professor Lupin would appreciate that. I didn't even know I was a wizard until I was eleven, so I didn't grow up with those stereotypical viewpoints. I mean, it's only once a month for werewolves, so what about the rest of the month?"

"A more common stereotype is that werewolves can be temperamental and suddenly fly into violent rages. People also have some fear of them because they were used by Grindelwald during his times, and Voldemort also used them in the first war, but on a lesser scale than Grindelwald. My father was a Muggle-born who shares the same views. They were only classified as Dark creatures just because of that."

Something clicked in Harry's mind. "Umbridge- sorry- Dolores was always going about half-breeds, other species, stuff like that. I never knew that she wasn't pure-blood; she certainly acts it."

"She's a hypocrite," his professor said flatly, "too ashamed of her heritage. She thinks that by succeeding in life like at the Ministry or something can wash it all away."

"Just like Percy Weasley," Harry said through clenched teeth. "He was always saying how good Dolores was. A match made in heaven, huh?"

"Or hell," she corrected him.

"Or that," he agreed.

Looking at the clock, she said, "You might want to get to your next class."

"Oh, thanks. I'll see you next time I'm in the office."

"Good-bye, Mr. Potter," she politely chimed.

~*~*~*~

It was ten to nine later that night when Harry remembered something. Taking his Invisibility Cloak (just in case he had to), he left for Dumbledore's office. He was stranded outside without knowing the password when he remembered: the Communication Crystal that Dumbledore gave him a few months before. He activated it and said, "Dumbledore? Hi, we need to talk. What's the password?"

"Good evening, Harry. It's 'Lemon Drop' again. I'm going to have to wait until the Weasley twins come out with more edibles."

"Thanks." Deactivating it, he gave the password to the gargoyle, passed through, went up the stairs, and into Dumbledore's office.

"Hello, Harry. Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

"Yes, actually. Werewolves are part of the curriculum I teach, right?"

"Indeed."

"Well, after discussing it with Professor Umbridge, it seems the people who labeled them as 'Dark' were rather prejudiced. Professor Lupin's a werewolf, so what should I do?"

"Tell them what to do if a werewolf is in pursuit of them and they have no other choice."

Harry paused, and then added, "You know, I said the exact same thing. Oh, I also remembered, Professor Snape said you were 'unavoidably detained' this past week. Can I ask why?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Trying to find candidates and arrange for elections."

"Oh. Good luck with that, then."

"Thank you. Well, if that's all, Harry, good night."

"Good night, Professor."

It was definitely past nine o'clock now. Not wanting to get into trouble, he donned his Invisibility Cloak. And the end of a corridor, he heard a pair of voices. Creeping closer, he saw two black-robed figures, carrying a white mask and wearing a Death Eater robe. He sneaked closer and ducked behind a suit of armor as the taller figure whipped his head around.

"Who's there?" he demanded; it was Snape.

"It's Harry; don't shoot." With his hands raised, he came out, giving the illusion that only his head and hands existed. Snape and Draco ogled for a moment while Harry corrected this mistake and pulled his cloak back on. "I was on my way back from Dumbledore's office to ask him something when I heard your voices; I'm going back right now anyway."

"Five points from Gryffindor for the nasty surprise Potter," Snape sneered.

"Can I at least ask what's going on?"

Draco turned to his mentor and said, "You know, we should let him know, sir."

Snape sighed. "Fine. Potter," he said, turning back to Harry, "We're going to convince the Dark Lord that it wasn't Draco who fought that night in Riddle Manor, but an imposter with Polyjuice Potion. Don't worry yourself, Potter; it will work."

"Er, OK. Thanks. Good night."

"Good night, Potter."

~*~*~*~

He just passing Umbridge's DADA classroom when he heard voices coming from there, too. Leaning closer, he eavesdropped in their conversation; Umbridge sounded dead serious, not at all like her usual cheery attitude.

"But sir, do you really want to go through with this? I mean, Potter-"

The other voice was to quiet for Harry to hear, but Umbridge certainly seemed to hear it.

"No way. I can't do that; it's not within my ability. I'm not exactly great when it comes to doing that sort of-"

There was excited muttering which sounded sort of angry, but Umbridge scoffed.

"My sister may be up to that kind of thing, but that's her, not me. Anyway, I'll let you know when I find out more. I will get back to you when I find any more snakes in the grass, if you know what I mean."

There was a sound, stopping the conversation as Umbridge sighed. Harry quickly dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower, as quietly as possible.

Meeting up with Ron, he asked what Harry had been doing, but he just said that he had chatted with Dumbledore for a little bit. For once, Harry was definitely not in the mood to share any information with Ron or Hermione. Five years of experience told them that even their theories were the best, especially not Ron's.

As for Umbridge, well, if Snape could be trusted, why not her? The Snape-Quirrell incident from his first year certainly put things into focus for him. Harry would not go running to Dumbledore about mere muttering. At least, not just yet, anyway. He would wait until he was certain that he had enough. Then, and only then, would he go to Dumbledore.

(End of Chapter 22.)

A/N: Cliffhanger? Possibly.

(1) My first beta reader, VladTepes, helped me come up with this name. Look at the name "Dolores Umbridge." Her first name comes from the Latin word for "sadness" and "pain." Her last name comes from the Latin for "shadow" and "offense." "Felicity" comes from the Latin name for "happiness." Clever, huh?

(2) This is a joke my dad told me.

By the way, fun shot story: Earlier in the morning of the day I originally posted this the first time around, I saw a group of wild turkeys strutting around the backyard of my house. My dad told me not to get too close, which I knew not to do, and he also described them as "velociraptors with wings."

(3) HAHAHA! Is this guy funny or what? I’m so glad I came up with this!

(4) I can't remember where I got this from... (The author shrugs.) Oh well.

(5) I got this from VMorticia’s version of the series from Draco Malfoy’s POV (more specifically, in her version of CoS).

(6) Sorry if I put this subplot off for too long!

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