Hogwarts, Defense Classroom – 7:00pm
Harry sat in a desk across from Dolores Umbridge and waited on her to assign him some hideous form of work. To his shock, the Headmaster had upheld Umbridge's punishments, chiding Harry for his attitude and asking him to behave more respectfully toward his Professors. The smug look on Umbridge's face had been insufferable. He must be angry at my refusal to work with Snape, Harry thought. Harry didn't believe that the Headmaster would ever allow him to be expelled, but apparently it wasn't beneath the man to get a little petty revenge.
"Hem, hem," the fat creature across from him started. "Every night this week you will be writing lines, Mr. Potter. You will repeat the line "I must not tell lies" until I am satisfied the message has sunk in," she smiled widely.
"You are to use this quill," she continued, handing him a sharp-looking black instrument. "And you will not need ink."
Harry shrugged and retrieved some parchment. This didn't seem so bad.
Umbridge watched closely as Harry began writing. He gasped slightly in shock as the quill seemed to write directly onto his skin. Harry stopped writing and looked up at Umbridge. She was giving him a lethal smile, and Harry knew that he wasn't going to be writing ordinary lines. Her quill was somehow able to scrape the back of his hand, and its "ink" appeared to be his own blood. A week of this would leave his hand bloody and raw.
Harry made his decision. Looking directly into Umbridge's eyes, he gripped her quill in both hands and quickly snapped it in half.
"Oops," he said politely, smiling at her. "I seem to have accidentally broken your quill, Professor. Sorry about that. It looks like I'll just have to use my own."
Umbridge stared at him speechlessly, too shocked at his audacity to be angry right away.
"Mr. Potter! What…how DARE you! That was an expensive quill! I can charge you with destruction of Ministry property!" she shrieked.
Harry shrugged. "Sorry, Professor. Like I said, it was an accident. But if you like, we can go see the Headmaster again. I'm sure he would be willing to reimburse you on my behalf. And he might find your quill to be quite fascinating," Harry replied. Dumbledore may want him punished out of spite, but Harry was willing to believe the old man had no idea that Umbridge was planning to torture him.
Umbridge was turning an ugly shade of violet, and Harry was reminded of Marge Dursley.
"Potter…go! Get out of this room this instant! You will serve the rest of your detentions with Professor Snape."
Harry gathered his things and left, feeling giddy and triumphant at having successfully baffled the hideous woman.
As soon as Harry was out the door, Umbridge grabbed her floo powder violently and then shouted into the green glow of her fireplace.
"MINISTER OF MAGIC'S OFFICE! CORNELIUS!"
The rest of Harry's week went considerably better. True to her word, Umbridge had allowed him to serve the remainder of his detentions with Snape. The oily bastard had made him scrub cauldrons with his bare hands, but hadn't otherwise antagonized Harry. He hadn't even mentioned the aborted training plans, and Harry wondered if Dumbledore had finally decided to reign in the biting sarcasm of his potions master. Umbridge herself had not provoked Harry again during class, just insisting that everyone read quietly at their desks while she glowered at them.
His nightly detentions had prevented him from introducing Ron and Hermione to the Come-and-Go Room, but this weekend he would finally be free to restart his training. Harry couldn't wait. He hadn't decided yet whether to tell them about his difficulties with casting, but he was nevertheless excited to show them his new homemade spell book.
...
September 6th, 1995 – Hogwarts, Room of Requirement
"And there you have it," smiled Harry, his arms sweeping the room in a magnanimous gesture.
Ron and Hermione were in just as much awe at the Come-and-Go Room as Harry was when Dobby introduced him to it. Hermione, in particular, seemed to have lost the power of speech.
"This…" she started, before blinking and trying again, "this is the most amazing feat of magic I've ever seen. What else can the room do, Harry? Have you experimented?"
"Er…no," Harry replied sheepishly. "Dobby said the elves use it to store things sometimes, but I've just been thinking about a training room when I come here."
Hermione nodded. Harry could tell she was composing a mental list of tests for the remarkable room.
The previous night he had told her about Dobby's help over the summer, and, to his great surprise, she had not been outraged. She had merely listened and then hugged Harry, informing him that she was thankful that he had had some company. Yet another mystery about the new Hermione.
Ron paced around the room quickly, very eager to put its capabilities to the test. One wall had provided them with a small library of defense books, while the rest of the room seemed dedicated to a dueling area complete with various kinds of targets. There were even exercise mats in one corner.
"Right, then," Harry said, pulling out his new grimoire. "This is the little spell book I was telling you about. It's got about 100 different kinds of advanced spells in it, mostly charms, curses, and shields. They're, er, giving me a little trouble, but I thought we could use the room to train together and master them." Here Harry paused, searching for the right words.
"I want you to both to know that, er, that I appreciate you standing by me. I know it's hard to be my friend, and it will probably just get harder. These spells will hopefully help all of us make it out of this mess alive. Anyway, um, let's get started, yeah?"
Ron shuffled his feet and looked at the ground as Harry spoke, a nod of his head his only acknowledgment. Hermione had tears in her eyes, and stepped forward to give Harry a forceful hug. Harry wrapped his arms around her, and was made newly aware of how frail Hermione was. Her appearance had not improved at all in the first week of classes.
"Oh, Harry," she said, "We'll always be your friends. Don't ever forget that."
Harry nodded, relieved that he was not alone in his time of trial. He almost told them right then about his wonky magic, but truthfully he was a little ashamed of it. He was hoping that it would eventually go away, or that he could find a solution without having to elicit more pitying looks from his friends.
The trio spent the next three hours leafing through Harry's notebook, commenting on spells that looked promising and how they might be used in a fight. Hermione eventually wandered over to the books on the wall and began perusing them, while Harry showed Ron how the room could provide small moving targets for stunner practice.
They practiced no advanced spells on that first day, but each of them had a mental list of things they wanted to try as soon as they could safely return. The difficulty was going to be finding time when their schedules were all free, especially considering Harry's upcoming Quidditch practices. They also wanted to be sure that they could keep the room a secret; it wouldn't do to have Umbridge or Malfoy discover what it was capable of.
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