Defence the Fifth

Not only was Hermione back at Hogwarts, but her first class of the day was Arithmancy. It'd crossed her mind that someone had put that first on purpose, but without Rose talking with Professor Dumbledore all the time, she didn't find it likely.

Just as she always had, Hermione showed up to class 15 minutes early, beating even Professor Vector to the classroom. Hermione sat down and sorted out her notes.

"I almost didn't believe you were back."

Hermione nearly lost herself to giddiness when she heard Cedric's voice. With his perfect smile on his face, he took the seat next to her.

"Best believe it, because it's true. They let me come back."

"I'm glad they did. It's not quite the same without you."

Hermione smiled at the complement. It was still much the same Cedric: kind and thoughtful.

"How've you been?" Cedric asked, folding his hands on his desk.

Hermione reflected back on the past year. "Better, all things considered. Still coping with not having Rose here, but I'm sure I'll be alright."

Cedric placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. Hermione smiled and placed her hand on his. His hands were warm and gentle, but his grip was strong. At that moment, she knew Cedric would be there for her in spite of everything.

"Does Chang know you're holding hands with another girl?"

Rebecca's voice startled Hermione, and she pulled her hand away. Cedric slowly lowered his hand, but wasn't ashamed. He eyed Roger and Rebecca as they took their seats.

"Cho knows I take care of my friends. In fact, I think that's what she likes about me."

"She's got nothing to worry about from me," Hermione said to Cedric. "My best friend's gone, a psychopath's on the loose, I've got a N.E.W.T. in this class and O.W.L.s at the end of the year, the Ministry is openly attacking my friends, and I've got a bad feeling about our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Boys are quite literally the last thing on my mind."

Rebecca snickered, but Hermione was thankful for the glares Cedric and Roger gave her.

"Poor Weasley," Rebecca muttered.

"Stop it!" Roger snapped. "Really, just stop it!" He turned back to Cedric and Hermione. "I'm sorry about Rose. She was… odd, but I liked her."

Roger's words brought a smile back to Hermione's face. "Thank you, Roger. Really, thank you."

"Don't mention it," he scoffed, sounding a little like Ron.

His tone was matched by a grin, and for a moment, Hermione wanted to sink in her chair. She couldn't stand to be around Ron, not because he annoyed her (for once), but because she thought the guilt would eat her alive. After everything she'd done to stop herself from hurting him, she'd gone and done it anyway.

You can just talk to him, Sally-Anne's voice said in her head. It'd be fine if you just talked to him.

And say what? 'Sorry I didn't write you, Ron, but I've been busy.' That'll go well. I might as well just say 'Sorry, you're just not important enough.'

She blocked out any other thoughts of Ron and turned her attention to Roger and Cedric.

"That thing was incredible," Roger was saying. "Did you ever find out what it was?"

Cedric shrugged. "Neville kept calling it 'King Bug', which I guess fits as well as anything. It was durable as anything and didn't go down easily. Fleur going rogue didn't do us any favors, but I'm honestly glad Neville was there. He probably saved all our lives… again."

Hermione smiled to herself. While her friends had seen the change in him day by day, she saw him during the opening feast, then at champion selection, then during the first task. The change had been astounding; Timid Toad himself, pulling off feats she'd never have thought possible of anyone apart from Rose. She'd really done a lot with him.

"Of all the people…" Roger leaned back in his chair. "I couldn't believe Longbottom in the first task alone."

"Even I'll admit," Cedric said, "dragging himself like that to the tent took a lot. I'd have given up halfway and just thought 'this isn't worth it'."

"He had a lot riding on it," Hermione said without thinking much of it. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Go ahead," Roger said. "You know him better than any of us."

"Who does Hermione know?" Professor Vector asked, walking into the classroom in the middle of a conversation and picking up on it, as was her way.

"We were talking about Longbottom in the Triwizard Tournament last year," Roger said. "Amazing, right?"

Professor Vector made a face and lifted both eyebrows. "You, Mr. Davies, weren't sitting next to Professor Sprout for the first task. I thought she was going to faint when those rocks came crashing down on him."

Hermione thought back to the first task, but stopped when another memory took its place. She shoved the thought of Ron lying dead on the ground out of her mind, or as best she could. It still lingered there, waiting for her to drop her guard and think about it.

Graham and Cassius took their seats as Professor Vector began to start class. Not a second later, Alicia snuck in and took a seat behind Hermione.

"Ms. Spinnet, nice of you to join us," Professor Vector said without turning her back.

"She's got the whole room enchanted, remember?" Hermione whispered.

"Now I do," Alicia muttered. "Good to have you back, Granger."

Hermione smiled and turned back to Professor Vector as she explained what they'd be working on that year.

"Magical analysis, spell disassembly, and Arithmantic foundations will be the core of this year. Practical applications of such include curse-breaking and counterspelling. We will also be covering how to safely build upon or alter existing enchantments. To begin, we will review the mathematical building blocks of all spells: matrices. Can anyone–" Hermione's hand shot up. "–tell me what a matrix is?" She paused for a moment, then pretended to have just seen Hermione's hand. "Ms. Granger, can you?"

"A matrix is an array of numbers or expressions arranged in rows and columns. It can also be given depth, extending it into three-dimensional space, or as many arbitrary dimensions as one wants."

"Correct, although you make it sound awfully boring, considering how powerful they are in maths."

Hermione couldn't tell if she'd just been insulted, but didn't expect anything like that from Professor Vector. They were sort of friends, after all.

"Every spell is represented by a system of equations, which one can turn into a matrix operation," Professor Vector continued, writing something on the board. "I've explained this before, but what I haven't explained is how this allows us to build upon them. Specifically, if one can introduce a new matrix into the mix, one can alter the resulting equation. Alter the equation, alter the final spell." She finished writing a system of equations that Hermione recognized instantly.

"This," she said, tapping the board, "is the Lumos spell equation, in its base form. This matrix on the side would usually be factored out due to your wands. As I've mentioned before wands serve many purposes. This year, we will discuss them more in depth, explain how exactly they work, and understand why we need them."

Hermione took down every word Professor Vector said, both on paper and in her head. Specifically, she wrote down the part about wands. Something struck her as odd, and she wanted to research it further. In the margins of her paper, she wrote another question: "Do wands protect against accidental magic?"

"Yes," Professor Vector told her after class. "I am so sorry, Hermione. I didn't know myself until I'd discovered what was happening to you last year."

"So me losing control of my magic was because I don't use a wand?"

"I doubt that was the only contributing factor, but it may have been a big one."

Hermione nodded, reflecting for a moment on the past year.

"I'm not going to stop," she said. "It's still better, I've just got to relearn control."

Professor Vector frowned and sat up straight in her chair.

"Are you saying you still don't have full control?"

"I've got enough control, just… there was an incident over the summer." Hermione lowered her voice. "Harry, Sirius, Taltria, Alavel, and I were out and about, and a Dementor came after us."

"What?" Professor Vector hissed.

"We don't know why, or even how it knew where to find us, but I conjured a Patronus Charm and stopped it."

"Without a wand?"

Hermione nodded. "It was as if the whole thing fell into place, but then… then I passed out." Professor Vector opened her mouth, but Hermione cut her off. "I'm fine, they carried me home, but… I'm trying not to push myself any harder than that. I can't safely pull a spell out of my head anymore."

"I'm sorry to hear that. If I'd known this would happen, I would've tried steering you in another direction."

"It wouldn't have mattered. Rose didn't let anyone steer her either. Besides, you didn't send a Dementor after me and my friend."

"I suppose not." Professor Vector glanced at the clock. "You should go before you're late to class."

Hermione nodded and stood up.

"Thanks, Professor."

"Stay safe, Hermione. And be careful of Professor Umbridge. If the Ministry's really out to get you, she may go looking for excuses to punish you. Don't give her any."

"You've got nothing to worry about," Hermione said, smiling. "It's me."

"As you often remind people, Rose Peta-Lorrum's best friend," Professor Vector said dryly.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Hermione gave a Rose grin before leaving the classroom.

Hermione took her seat in Defence that evening. She didn't care for their new professor so far, but Hermione was determined to continue being a good student. She took out their textbook, her notes, and a pencil. Sally-Anne took the seat beside her, then leaned over after she situated her own supplies.

"How's your first day back?" she asked.

"I'll tell you after it's finished."

The girls sat quietly while their friends took their seats. Hermione glanced at Harry, whose eyes were darting around the room.

At least someone else is upholding the proud tradition of not trusting our Defence professor.

"Good evening, class," Umbridge said.

The class responded with a mumbled and unenthusiastic "Good evening".

"That's no good. When I say, 'Good evening, class', I expect to hear 'Good Evening, Professor Umbridge'. Let's try that again, shall we? Good evening, class."

The chorus of "Good evening, Professor Umbridge" was louder, but just as enthusiastic.

"There; that wasn't so bad, was it?" Umbridge asked in a sickly sweet voice. "Now we can get to our lesson. Wands away and quills out."

Most of the students groaned at "wands away", knowing it never lead to anything good. Hermione waited for their next instruction, having never taken her wand out in the first place.

Umbridge drew her own wand from her offensively pink hand bag. To Hermione's surprise, it wasn't pink. Umbridge tapped the board with it, causing words to appear in chalk.

Defence Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

This isn't going to go well, Hermione thought.

"Your teaching in this subject has been far below the acceptable standard, wouldn't you say?" Umbridge gave a friendly smile. "Due to the constant change in teachers, none of whom followed a proper, Ministry-approved curriculum, you all find yourselves far below what is required for your O.W.L.s. It is most unfortunate, most unfortunate."

Apart from everything else, Hermione nearly shuddered when she realized that some students had Lockhart in their O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. year. She made a note to look up the pass rate for that year.

Hermione tuned back into Umbridge's ramblings about a Ministry-approved, theory-based curriculum. The studious part of her wanted to listen to every detail for the sake of catching every detail, but the sensible part of her said it wasn't worth her time. Looking at the words now on the board, she scribbled them down.

COURSE AIMS

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

She reviewed them again after writing them down. Then read them again. Convinced she must've been missing something, she read them again, but there was no mistake.

Nothing in the course aims or Umbridge's opening lecture even implied that they'd be casting spells.

As per Umbridge's instructions, everyone began reading chapter one of their book. Having already read the entire book five times over, Hermione raised her hand to ask about the course aims.

Umbridge settled into her chair, her big, toad-like eyes watching the rest of the students. She smiled as if the world existed solely for her own amusement.

Hermione waited, her hand in the air, and her patience fading. She knew Umbridge was ignoring her; she just didn't know why. What reason was there to outright ignore a student with a question? Did she think it wasn't worth her time to actually teach? Based on first impressions, that seemed the likely answer.

Hermione felt anger bubbling inside her, so she closed her eyes and forced herself to remain calm. If she lost it in class, especially her current one, the consequences would be dire. Satisfying, but dire.

Hermione began swaying her arm back and forth, more out of boredom than impatience. Bored was fine; it wasn't angry or sad, so it shouldn't incite her fight-or-flight instinct.

"You have a question about the reading, Ms…?" Umbridge asked.

"Granger, and it's about the course aims." Hermione let her hand fall to her side, giving it the rest it so desperately needed.

"We're doing the readings just now, so if it's about the readings, I'll be happy to hear it."

Hermione thought for a moment, then had an idea. "Are we reading a book for a class in which we won't be casting spells?"

A few students snickered at her workaround. Hermione imagined if Rose had been there, she'd have been one of them. Of course, Sally-Anne narrowed her eyes at Hermione, then rolled them and returned to her reading.

The fake smile returned to Umbridge's face. "Ms. Granger, why would we need to cast spells?"

For a moment, Hermione thought it was a rhetorical question, but then she realized that Umbridge was serious. She had no intention of teaching them defensive magic. Fortunately, Hermione knew the answer to Umbridge's question.

"Because theory isn't the same as practice."

"Theory is all you children require. Now please, continue with your reading."

"I've already–"

"If you've got another question, Ms. Granger, please raise your hand."

I've got plenty, but I doubt you'll answer any of them, Hermione thought as her hand shot into the air. Of course, Umbridge ignored her hand, but did choose to call on another.

"Yes, Mr…?"

"Weasley, and are we just gonna assume that a spell will work if we're attacked?"

"Do you expect to be attacked in my class?"

"Yes," Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Neville replied.

"I don't know what my predecessors have taught you, but there's no need to worry about that."

Harry and Sally-Anne raised their hands, joining Ron and Hermione. Umbridge looked at each of them for a moment, as if weighing her options.

"Ms…?"

"Sally-Anne Perks, Ma'am, and no disrespect, but we've been attacked in school before."

Umbridge didn't miss a beat. "Then it is as I feared. Not only has this class been mismanaged, but the entire school. Thank you for informing me of this, Ms. Perks."

Hermione shot a glare at Sally-Anne. The last thing Hermione wanted Umbridge to have was ammunition to use against them, and Sally-Anne had just served it up on a silver platter with tea and biscuits!

"What about the Triwizard Tournament that the Ministry thought was such a resounding success?" Hermione asked, her hand still in the air. "If all they'd had was theoretical practice, none of the champions would've survived!"

"You will wait to be called on before speaking, Ms. Granger," Umbridge said, her voice taking on a slight edge. "One more outburst like that, and I'll be forced to start taking points."

Not points! she could hear Rose say. Not the arbitrary prize that teachers give out on a whim! Then I'll never get my dream of winning the pointless prize at the end!

"Now, if there are no more questions–" Several hands went up. "–we can return to the reading."

Umbridge settled back into her chair, ignoring the raised hands. Hermione fought to keep her emotions in check. She wasn't impulsive like Rose; thinking snide remarks was fine, so long as they didn't escape her mouth. She knew better than to lash out at teachers, even if the pink woman in front of her didn't technically qualify as a teacher. No, teachers were required to teach something, and unless this was a lesson in keeping one's temper down, Hermione wasn't learning anything.

Hermione lowered her hand when an idea struck her. Umbridge was their official Defence professor, but she wasn't the only qualified professor at Hogwarts. With luck, she could convince the other one to teach her. Sure, he didn't much care for her, but he had some kind of soft spot for Rose. She only hoped it would be enough.

"What about Voldemort?" Harry blurted out, sending a wave of gasps rippling through the class. "Is a theoretical defence supposed to stop him too?"

Umbridge turned to him and smiled a sickeningly warm smile. "You must be Mr. Potter." She turned from him and addressed the rest of the class. "You have all been informed that a particular dark lord has returned. That he is once again alive and active. That some recent disappearances are a result of his doing. You need not worry; this is a lie."

"No it isn't!" Harry shouted. "I was there, I saw him!"

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

Silence fell over the classroom, and one by one, every hand sank to their owners' sides. Hermione was the only one who kept her hand raised.

Umbridge shot her a glare so fast Hermione would've missed it if she'd picked the wrong time to blink. After showing her dislike of a student, Umbridge returned to her desk, which was when Hermione chose to ask her question.

"So Rose just dropped dead of her own accord?"

"Ms. Peta-Lorrum's death was tragic, but ultimately, yes." Umbridge's voice dripped with sympathy; the same kind of sympathy a bad parent might show a child when their toy broke: condescending and fake. "As I'm sure you're all aware, she was a disturbed young girl, and to those that knew her, her death was unsurprising."

"Dürah!"

"Pardon me?"

"Hermione, don't," Sally-Anne hissed.

"Don't talk about 'those that knew her', because I did know her! Rose was my best friend! I knew her better than anyone, so don't just spew some Ministry dürah that you read in the Daily Propaganda!"

Hermione was a little surprised that she was more concerned about keeping control of her magic than she was about the fact that she'd just screamed at a teacher. Of course, "teacher" was still not an apt description of whatever was pretending to teach their class.

Half the class stared in shock at Hermione, and half the class awaited "Professor" Umbridge's response.

"I will see you tonight for detention, Ms. Granger," Umbridge said calmly.

Hermione's first instinct was to apologize. She'd rarely been punished, let alone received detention. Something inside her told her to apologize, explain that she'd been overwhelmed with grief upon hearing the subject of Rose, and that it was just a misunderstanding. But something else inside her told her to take a stand. No one else was going to do it.

"I look forward to it," Hermione said.

Sally-Anne watched her friends leave, then looked at Umbridge. She had a bad feeling already, but she knew what she had to do. Sally-Anne walked up to Umbridge, smiling her most diplomatic smile.

"Professor, may I have a word, please?" Sally-Anne checked every detail of her body language; her hair wasn't in her face, her hands were folded in front of her, she kept focus on her target, and, most importantly, she stood tall as if to tell everyone she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Ms. Perks, was it?"

"Yes, Professor."

As much as Sally-Anne hated the condescending tone of Umbridge's voice, years of practice talking to Harry had taught her to hide any irritation, no matter how big or small.

"What can I do for you?"

"My friends were the ones disrespecting you today, and I wanted to apologize on their behalf. We may not agree with you or the Ministry about what happened to Rose, but it was rude of them to lash out at you during class, to say the least."

Umbridge's smile didn't falter, but she paused for a moment. Sally-Anne took the hesitation to dig into Umbridge's mind, but found nothing.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.

"I'm glad to see that someone in Gryffindor has some sense," Umbridge said. "Thank you, Ms. Perks. I look forward to seeing you again."

Sally-Anne smiled and nodded her head politely.

"Will that be all?"

Sally-Anne averted her eyes as she struggled to remember her other question.

"I'm not saying that I believe… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, but I think we can agree that he was dangerous, right?"

"Of course. You-Know-Who was the most ruthless, powerful wizard to walk the earth. But he is dead. It's not possible to bring the dead back to life. Tales of his resurrection were born simply out of fear, and a desire to spread that fear to others."

"But what if he found a way? No one–"

"He didn't."

"It's not possible to know everything. If there's even the slightest chance that–"

"There isn't, Ms. Perks."

Umbridge's tone had shifted from condescending to warning. Sally-Anne knew she was only losing ground, so she switched tactics. She smiled again, intentionally making her smile too big.

"I'm sorry. I probably read too many fairy tales."

"Given the company you keep, I'm not surprised you became confused."

"Thank you for clearing it up, Professor. I'll stop taking up your time."

Sally-Anne curtsied and turned to leave. She left the room as quickly as she could without looking like she was trying to leave quickly. On her way out, Sally-Anne found most of her friends waiting for her.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked.

"Diplomacy," Sally-Anne replied. "It is my job, after all." She did a quick headcount of her friends. "Where are Ron and Neville?"

"Went on ahead," Harry said. "Neville said he wanted to catch Luna when she came out of class, and Ron said he'd go with him."

Oh no.

At first, she felt frustration towards Hermione. Sally-Anne knew how Ron worked; Hermione had hurt him, so he was shutting out Hermione. It was just as simple as the solution. All Hermione had to do was talk to him, but she'd committed herself to ignoring him.

"Changing the subject, you shouldn't have lashed out like that."

"You heard what that jato said about Rose," Hermione said as they started walking.

"Calling her names isn't going to change her mind, it's just going to convince her that you've got an attitude problem."

"I haven't got an attitude problem!" Hermione snapped.

"I didn't say you did, just that she probably thinks you do now. Besides, how are you going to explain your detention to your parents? You know, the ones that look for an excuse to bring you back home?"

"I'll be fine!" Hermione snapped.

"Of course," Sally-Anne said, relaxing herself enough to calm Hermione down. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to worry about you."