IMPOSSIBLE RISKS // Drarry

20) DELORUS UMBITCH!

The trigger warning is in the title...

Harry grimaces as he makes his way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. People continue to give him dirty looks and keep a respectable distance from him. Harry can't help but roll his eyes at their idiocracy. Fine! If they want to die an extraordinarily painful death, they can go ahead! Harry's trying to warn them! Merlin! He's given these morons more than enough chances to get their heads out of their asses. But they are too ignorant to believe him. It's their bloody fault if Voldemort murders them!

Harry shuffles into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, in an irritable mood. He's already done with school, even though it's only the first day. He got a small break from the comments as he saw Fred and George's plan to test out their candy on first-years. Much to Hermione's disapproval.

But throughout breakfast, he kept hearing rude comments whispered about him. Most of them were conspiracies about how he was actually behind Cedric's death. It made his blood set aflame with fury... as if the reminder of Cedric's death wasn't already enough...

Harry watches as students in his year pass around an enchanted paper bird. They happily watch as it soars through the air, after being pushed with their wands. Everyone is giggling and having a jolly good time...while Voldemort is still out there. He could be planning to attack right now! And they're just goofing around! Why aren't they coming up with a battle plan? At least they have this class, so they can learn how to defend themselves if need be.

This is the only class Harry truly cares about, at the moment. He needs to be prepared to fight off Voldemort. He needs to know how to defend himself. He needs to be reassured that his friends know how to, as well. He doesn't want to lose them in the inevitable war that is about to take place. Harry just hopes that this class is enough to protect his friends and schoolmates.

The bird gracefully floats through the air, but then abruptly gets shriveled to ash. The students turn around and take notice of Professor Umbridge, who is responsible for the paper bird's demise, "Well, good afternoon!"

A few people mumble out a 'good afternoon' in reply but most people are silent. Including Harry, who is lost in his thoughts, praying that this woman will be a decent teacher.

"Tut, tut," Says Professor Umbridge, frowning, "That won't do, now, will it? I would like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'," They chant it back to her mechanically, "That wasn't too difficult, now, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

A few students exchange board looks at the order, knowing this lesson is destined to be boring. Whenever there is any lesson without the use of wands, it is extremely mind-numbing. Harry's just glad that every class won't be like this, considering it's the first day.

Harry pulls out his quill, ink, and parchment as Professor Umbridge starts writing on the blackboard, using her unusually short wand.

"Well, now your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" Professor Umbridge states, turning to the class, "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom have not seemed to follow any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in you being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L year."

The class looks at her blankly. Harry can't help but feel a bit unsure about her after she has mentioned the Ministry, which is very obviously conspiring against him.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year, copy down the following, please."

Harry feels even more uneasy at the words theory-centered and Ministry-approved.

She begins writing her class objectives on the board and many students begin copying her words down, including Harry. At least her class objectives seem...alright.