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Chapter Ten: That felt Good.

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Hermione's POV

The new professor sat back down after her speech, a poisonous smile painted onto her pudgy face. As Dumbledore continued the start-of-year notices, I watched her, utterly disgusted at what she had said. She was evidently in Fudge's pocket, practically worshipped the floor he walked on, and to bring such rubbish, pure ministry propoganda into a school was simply unbelievable and an abuse of power on Fudge's part. Not only that, but the blatant disrespect to Dumbledore and his position as Headmaster of the institution. 

Exactly who did this woman think she was?

I left the feast with a nasty aftertaste in my mouth. The Ministry were interfering at Hogwarts, that much was certain, and until their motives were clear, I would have to keep a keen eye on the new teacher. That night, I wrote Loki a letter, and sent it via Hedwig. Perhaps he would have some insight or advice to give me.

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-The next day-

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I sat down eating breakfast when the morning post flew in. A familiar owl landed in front of me, leg outstretched for me to remove the letter attached. After removing her load, Hedwig hopped over to Harry, who stroked her feathers, preening at the contact. She nipped his fingers fondly before taking off and out the window. Smiling, I opened the letter and began to read. By the end, I was grinning. It had been only a few weeks and already I missed the casual chaos that was Avengers Tower. I missed my Uncle, my numerous Aunts and Uncles, Loki.

Still, I was looking forward to talking with them at the weekend, the reminder making me less homesick. I folded the letter carefully and placed it into a secure compartment in my bag. By then, breakfast was over and people were beginning to exit the Great Hall to their first lesson of the day. I looked at my new timetable and grimaced.

Defence Against the Dark Arts. 

Wonderful. 

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-D.A.D.A-

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I sat down at my desk; a look of disgust covering my face. The whole room was decorated with various shades of pink. I didn't mind pink as a colour, but when I saw Umbridge's clothes, and now this room, well, it was enough to make me hope to become colour blind. I talked to Harry and Ron, killing time until the lesson started. 

A beautifully folded origami bird, bewitched to fly around the room, gracefully glided over the class's heads. Suddenly, it burst into flames and spiralled down onto Padma Patil's desk. The room went silent and looked to the front of the room where the toad - as I had mentally dubbed her - was standing, wearing a painfully faked smile. I internally cringed; she wore an even worse outfit than yesterday, which I didn't think was possible.

She handed out copies of 'Dark Arts Defence - Basics for Beginners', which was peculiar in itself, seeing as we were fifth years, far from beginners, and would be taking our OWLs at the end of the year. We needed to learn ACTUAL defence, not this rubbish.

She told us to read the first chapter, and so we did, in silence. I quickly discovered - to my horror but not surprise - there was no mention of practical work at all. It seemed that the Ministry preferred a more theory-based curriculum, which was all very well, but we needed to know how to protect ourselves against anything that could cause us harm, especially with the threat of Voldemort becoming more prominent by the day. I skimmed through the pages with a more vigorous pace. Nowhere in the book did it mention actually using  the spells. I put my hand up and waited for her to notice me. 

As the minutes passed, less and less people were reading the book. 

By the time 15 minutes had gone by, everyone had stopped reading entirely and was looking between Umbridge and me. 

The silence was deafening.

Eventually, the toad couldn't find an excuse to ignore me for much longer and finally broke the tense silence.  "Is there a problem, Miss..." 

"Granger, Professor. I just noticed that there isn't anything in this book about using defensive spells." She looked slightly shocked at the question before putting on a simpering smile. 

"I can't imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom. You'll be learning about the theory, which is risk-free and will be sufficient enough to get you through your examinatio-" She replied in a patronising tone. 

I cut in. "-But if we need to defend ourselves, it won't be 'risk-free'." 

She giggled, which was a horrible sound, and made most of the class cringe. "Miss Granger, who do you imagine would want to harm children such as yourselves?"

"Oh, I don't know, what about... Lord Voldemort?" Harry interjected, joining the conversation.

The class flinched at the name but sat silently as Harry and I argued with the outrageously pink toad. Umbridge took a deep breath, trying to regain control of the situation. "Now, you have been told that a certain dark wizard is at large once more. This. Is. A. Lie."

"So according to you, Cedric Diggory died of his own accord?" Harry rebutted.

"CEDRIC DIGGORY'S DEATH WAS A TRAGIC ACCIDENT!" Umbridge screeched, her voice echoing shrilling around the room. Harry continued to protest heavily, but was shut down by Umbridge, who gave him a detention. Thinking - wrongly - that the matter was closed, she sighed ever so slightly in frustration before turning to sit back down at her desk. 

But I had become enraged in her easy dismissal of Cedric's death, of her evident distaste for the truth and for Harry, and that made me furious. 

I stood up slowly, my hands clenched into fists in anger.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered. By the man whose name strikes fear into people's hearts even today. It wasn't an accident, it was MURDER. But you can't accept the truth for what it truly is, because you're blinded and trapped by your fear and and your ignorance. And that makes you dangerous. Punish me all you like, I'll pay the consequences, but I will not stay and listen to this bunkum any more. Good day madam." I grabbed my bag, gathered up my things and stormed out of the room, ignoring the repeated calls of my name and the threats of disiplinary action, leaving students with mouths agape in my wake.

Still fuming, I went to the only place that provides comfort, the library. Sat in the comfort of a cosy armchair in a particularly secluded area, I penned a letter and later sent it to Loki. He of all people knew what it was like when people didn't believe you. As I watched the owl fade into the distance, I wondered if my family would be angry at my decision, and hoped that Steve wouldn't be in the mood for one of his lengthy lectures. 

The mere thought of them were enough to make me feel sleepy. Speaking of things that made me feel sleepy, I sighed heavily as I opened Hogwarts: A History. I knew that I would be punished, but somehow, that didn't quell the sense of smug satisfaction I got from seeing the toad's stunned face as I ranted at her.

To quote my third-year self, 'That felt good.'


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