By Sunday evening, nearly every Gryffindor student was aware that Harry was now dating Katie, with some of the guys congratulating him on scoring such a beauty. Oliver Wood, focused as always on Quidditch, felt only concern for how this relationship might affect the team; as long as it didn't interfere with their play, he didn't mind it at all. On the flip side, a few—including Ron and some older students who had their eyes on Katie—were envious of Harry's apparent good fortune, but he dismissed their jealousy without a second thought.
The following morning, the newly-formed couple grew more confident in their relationship, walking hand-in-hand down to the Great Hall. Fortunately, no major incidents occurred; however, Harry worried that sightings by Snape or Umbridge would lead to points being deducted for "indecent behavior"—the two seemed to hold a personal grudge against him.
As breakfast commenced, the owl post arrived, bringing the morning edition of the *Daily Prophet* to many present in the Great Hall. That day's third page featured the article detailing how the Ministry nearly allowed Dementors to kiss Hogwarts students, which led to a collective lawsuit signed by over two hundred students, causing an uproar among both students and professors.
Dolores Umbridge, displeased with the negative portrayal of the Ministry, attempted to ban the *Daily Prophet* and other media outlets from Hogwarts. However, Dumbledore quickly reminded her—his own displeasure with the article evident—that as merely a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, she lacked the authority to enforce such a ban.
Watching the reactions of Umbridge and Dumbledore to the article, Harry felt relieved that Violet had sent the lawsuit anonymously; otherwise, he would likely be facing endless detentions from Umbridge, or worse, if she found out.
As breakfast came to an end, Professor McGonagall, true to form, distributed the timetables to her Gryffindor students. When Harry received his, he quickly noted the challenging subjects he would be facing, along with the new electives:
**Monday:** Double Potions (S) – Lunch – Charms (H) – Double Ancient Runes (all)
**Tuesday:** Double Herbology (S) – Lunch – Transfiguration (H) – Free Period – Arithmancy (all)
**Wednesday:** Care for Magical Creatures (all) – Charms (S) – Lunch – Double Potions (S)
**Thursday:** Double Transfiguration (R) – Lunch – Herbology (H) – Double History of Magic (R)
**Friday:** Transfiguration (H) – Charms (R) – Lunch – Double DADA (all) – Astronomy (all) at 11 PM
Despite the dreaded double Potions on Monday mornings, Harry decided the schedule didn't look too bad. Sure, having five periods a day seemed daunting, but he believed he could handle it. His thoughts on the timetable were interrupted by Ron's exuberant exclamation:
"Only Care for Magical Creatures on Wednesdays, and then it's basically a free day! How cool is that?" Unfortunately for Ron, Professor McGonagall had other plans in store.
"Mr. Weasley, Professor Dumbledore will be personally tutoring you on Wednesdays," she informed him pointedly. "I suggest you take full advantage of that opportunity." Ron visibly deflated at the loss of his "free day," while a few naïve younger students, oblivious to the reality of the situation, continued to fawn over how lucky he was.
As Harry waited for Professor Snape to usher them into class, he noticed that Draconica was still avoiding him, maintaining a distance as if he were somehow dangerous. Her expression was a mask of neutrality, leaving him puzzled. With her so distant, Harry found it difficult to approach her and ask what was wrong. He didn't have the chance to dwell on it further, as the classroom door swung open, revealing an irritable Potions master.
"Get in!" Professor Snape barked. The Gryffindor and Slytherin students filed into the classroom, quickly taking their seats—everyone understood the importance of not inciting Snape's ire further. Regaining his composure, Snape began to outline the year's plans before introducing that day's potion: the Shrinking Solution.
"Instructions are on the board. You have until lunch. Begin."
Shaking his head at the lack of appropriate teaching methods, Harry set up his cauldron over the magical fire and filled it with water, muttering the incantation for the Aguamenti charm, contrary to what Snape had declared on the first lesson. Following the instructions, he commenced chopping daisy roots into small pieces. His mind began to wander until he was jolted back into focus by Snape's voice looming over him.
"Potter… how does it feel to be around us mere mortals? Longing for your fame again, are we? That's the only thing you had to your name after all."
Shocked and annoyed, Harry met Snape's eyes.
"I wish things had started differently… Sir." The stern look on Snape's face indicated that this was not the response he had hoped for.
"Five points from Gryffindor!" Snape announced, watching for a reaction. Harry chose to remain unfazed, and after a moment of tense silence, Snape moved on to torment another unfortunate victim—Ron, who was more than willing to fall for the bait.
~/ *** \~
Meanwhile, in London, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge was finishing up his morning paperwork and preparing to enjoy his tea while skimming through the *Daily Prophet*. His quiet tea break was interrupted by a furious Madam Bones, storming into his office, newspaper in hand.
"Fudge!" she bellowed, slamming her copy of the *Daily Prophet* on the table, which prominently featured the article about the Dementors attacking the train. "What were you thinking? Do you even realize the chaos your foolish orders could have caused?"
"Uh, what are you talking about, Amelia?" Fudge asked, feigning ignorance as he slowly shuffled through the papers to find the cause of her ire. As he processed her words, the headline became painfully clear.
"Don't 'Amelia' me, Fudge!" she growled. "You ordered a Dementor to search the Hogwarts Express in an attempt to catch Black. But to send it without a group of Aurors to control it? What were you thinking? What if someone had been kissed?" Fudge, his thoughts racing, began to defend his actions.
"The Dementor followed orders, and it wouldn't have kissed anyone who didn't deserve it." Madam Bones was not impressed.
"Are you delusional? Do you honestly believe that your whimsical words can control Dementors? And what do you mean by 'didn't deserve it'? We need Black alive to understand how he escaped!" Her voice escalated into a shout that sent Fudge shrinking back into his chair.
"It's not like that lying brat Potter will be missed," he muttered, a poor choice of words.
"That's it!" Madam Bones hissed, her voice now unnervingly calm. "I planned to subject you to an investigation for gross negligence, but now I'm calling for a vote of no confidence against you in the next Wizengamot meeting." Without waiting for a retort, she turned and exited his office.
"Damn!" Fudge thought, realizing the gravity of the situation. While under investigation, he was powerless to intervene with the DMLE and couldn't dismiss Madam Bones. The next meeting of the Wizengamot was tomorrow, and the walls were closing in. All he could do was bemoan his fate.
~/ *** \~
Harry's Charms class proceeded smoothly, with Professor Flitwick reviewing the highlights from the prior year. The small professor seemed pleased to see that his students had retained a fair amount of knowledge.
Once class concluded, the students split into groups for their next subjects: Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, and a few who had no electives that period. The latter group was notably smaller than the others.
Heading to the fifth floor for Ancient Runes, they entered a spacious classroom filled with rune charts on the walls and ancient stone monoliths as part of the decor. Professor Bathsheda Babbling appeared engrossed in her work at the front of the room, so much so that she hardly noticed the students arriving.
After a few minutes, the second group of students, consisting of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, filtered in. Harry noticed Draconica seated purposefully far away again, prompting his concern. Yet the bell rang, pulling everyone's attention back to the front as Professor Babbling closed her notebook and greeted the class.
"Good afternoon! I'm Professor Bathsheda Babbling, and I'll introduce you to the intriguing world of runes. For our first semester, we'll focus on the runic alphabets…" A chorus of groans echoed through the room. The professor continued unfazed, "But after that, most of our lessons will lean toward practical applications."
She scanned the room before asking if there were any questions. Hermione promptly raised her hand.
"Yes, Ms…?"
"Hermione Granger. What runes will we be studying?"
"Excellent question, Ms. Granger. We'll begin with the Nordic and German runic systems, as well as Babylonian cuneiform. In your N.E.W.T. classes, I'll also cover Egyptian hieroglyphs and Ural writings." With that, Hermione nodded, satisfied. With no further questions, Professor Babbling delved into the Elder Futhark runic system.
By the end of the class, Harry appreciated the content but sighed at the prospect of another half-semester filled with lectures. Still, understanding the theory was essential before crafting runic arrays.
~/ *** \~
Tuesday turned out to be uneventful, with Draconica still avoiding him. Harry recognized that she was grappling with something within herself rather than harboring any animosity toward him. So, he resolved to give her the space she evidently needed.
Herbology and Transfiguration were both focused on reviewing prior knowledge, just like Charms. Afterward, Harry enjoyed a free period while most of his classmates went to Divination. Next up was Arithmancy, known as Hogwarts' most challenging elective. Unsurprisingly, the class was small, filled with less than a dozen students.
The room's walls were plastered with complex calculations and spell charts that didn't inspire confidence among the younger students. Luckily, Professor Vector was a bright, young witch who didn't resemble a typical stern academic, trying her best to make the material approachable.
That Tuesday evening, Harry received an owl from Ernst Schmidt, his proxy for the Potter seat on the Wizengamot. In his letter, Schmidt shared that the Wizengamot had voted on details regarding the upcoming '94 Quidditch World Cup to be held in the British Isles. Following that, they discussed plans to resurrect the Triwizard Tournament during the 1994-1995 school year.
In a surprising turn, Schmidt informed Harry that Madam Bones had called for a vote of no confidence against Cornelius Fudge. While several members supported the motion, Fudge remained in power—likely due to the machinations of Dumbledore's faction and Lucius Malfoy's group, who wanted to retain their puppet minister.
Despite a nagging feeling that this would backfire, Harry instructed Schmidt to study the documents related to the Triwizard Tournament and vote in favor if he deemed them acceptable.
~/ *** \~
Though Harry thought highly of Hagrid, he often questioned whether he was the right choice as a teacher for Care of Magical Creatures, given his occasional lack of understanding regarding what constituted a danger to students. While he recognized the majesty of hippogriffs, the idea of introducing them to nervous third years during their first class struck him as risky—an accident could easily occur.
The week flew by, arriving at Friday, when they would have their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year. Hopes were high that this year's teacher would be competent. However, whispers suggested that Umbridge was even worse than Lockhart at actual teaching, bolstered by her unusual approach of instructing all four houses simultaneously.
Entering the classroom, any hopes of meaningful learning quickly dissipated. The room was excessively pink, adorned with plates featuring cutesy kittens—an unfortunate aesthetic for a DADA setting.
"Good afternoon, class," Professor Umbridge chirped from behind her desk. A scattered chorus of "good afternoon" was heard, but she was evidently dissatisfied.
"Tut, tut," she replied sweetly. "That won't do, will it? I'd like you to repeat: 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' Once more, everyone! Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the class droned, devoid of enthusiasm.
"There, now!" she beamed. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please." The students groaned or cast worried glances at one another, bracing for whatever was next.