Magic? || Years 1-5

Hermione's Hats: Year 5

Whispers of Harry's outburst spread through the castle in record time. It was the topic of conversation at dinner, in fact.

"What I don't get," Harry voice trembled with anger as he set his silverware down, his eyes blazed, "is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them..."

"The thing is, Harry, I'm not sure they did," Hermione sighed, shoving her food away from her with such a bitter expression it could turn fresh milk sour. "Oh, let's get out of here."

"What d'you mean, you're not sure they believed Dumbledore?" Harry asked as they headed up to the common room.

"Look, you don't understand what it was like after it happened. You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body... None of us saw what happened in the maze... We just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you," Hermione explained softly.

"Which is the truth!" Harry exclaimed.

"I know it is, Harry, so will you please stop biting my head off?" Hermione shot back tiredly. "It's just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase and Dumbledore's going senile!"

They were just about to reach the last staircase when they rammed into Draco Malfoy.

Amisty's gaze flickered to Harry.

"Go away, Draco," Amisty growled, shouldering past him rather roughly. "I don't want to talk to you."

"I wasn't even -- " He staggered, watching her. He straightened his bag and cleared his throat. "Fine, then."

Draco walked off, and Amisty forged ahead, ignoring the bewildered expression on Hermione's face.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," She muttered, stepping to the side so the portrait could swing open and climbing through the portrait hole.

"What on earth was that about?" Hermione asked out of the corner of her mouth as they took their seats around the fireplace.

"I don't want to talk about it," She replies, more sharply than considered necessary.

"Certainly," Hermione muttered, unimpressed.

Crookshanks leaped up onto her lap as a comfortable silence fell.

Amisty stared at the flames, holding her knees close to her chest. Harry's words were affecting her more than she thought they would be.

"How can Dumbledore have let this happen? How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our O.W.L. year too!" Hermione exclaimed out of nowhere, banging her fists on the arms of her chair.

"Well, we've never had great Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we? You know what it's like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job, they say it's jinxed," Harry remarked bitterly.

"Yes, but to employ someone who's actually refusing to let us do magic!" Hermione went on, tugging on her hair. "What's Dumbledore playing at!"

"And she's trying to get people to spy for her. Remember when she said she wanted us to come and tell her if we hear anyone saying You-Know-Who's back?" Ron added.

"Of course she's here to spy on us all, that's obvious, why else would Fudge have wanted her to come?" Hermione snarled.

Ron opened his mouth to reply when --

"Don't start arguing again," Harry groaned. "Can't we just... Let's just do that homework, get it out of the way..."

Ron closed his mouth in an instant.