▬▬▬▬▬ CHAPTER NINE ▬▬▬▬▬

I JUST FINISHED MY HORRIBLE SPEECH FROM MY ORAL COMM CLASS AND I STILL HAVEN'T RECOVERED FROM THAT DISASTER, SO ENJOY THE CHAPTER WHILE I CRY TO MYSELF 😭 😭 😭

THINGS ONLY STARTED GOING BACK to normal around October. The sick students and professors had recovered, some with minor consequences of the dragon pox like scars and others with more dire after effects like lung issues. Rumor had it that Cormac may have been given a penectomy, but then again, rumors were rarely ever true. It didn't matter though, because news announced that Cormac would have to stay at St. Mungos for an 'indefinite amount of time'. 

The professors, Snape and Umbridge, were the last to come back and that was because they suffered from severe pneumonia due to the dragon pox. However, once they returned, classes went back to normal. 

But that was fine because at that point, Esmerelda had gotten back her previous joy. Walking around Hogwarts didn't feel so oppressive to her anymore now that people had stopped talking about her. She felt happier, relaxed, and more confident in herself as well. Even better was that she had stopped having magical accidents. 

"I was hoping Umbridge would stay away longer," Harry sighed sadly as they sat out in the courtyard after breakfast. "I liked not having to go to her for detention."

"Aren't you done with your detentions though?" Esmerelda asked. 

"Well yeah, but she's probably going to give me more anyways." He pointed out. 

"True." 

"I found it!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed. "The article Percy told you about in his last letter. Look what it says." 

Esmerelda slipped on her reading glasses before joining them. The headline caught their attention:

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORMDOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"

"'High Inquisitor'?" Harry said darkly. "What does that mean?"

In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time," said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. "He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve."

This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.

"That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts," said Weasley last night. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she's been an immediate success—"

"She's been a WHAT?" Harry said loudly.

"Harry, shush, we're trying to read!" Hermione scolded him. 

"—an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts."

It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor.'

"This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the "falling standards" at Hogwarts," said Weasley. "The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted."

The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.

Esmerelda couldn't help it. "Okay, there's no way a parent actually agrees with this. Have they even been told that Umbridge isn't doing any actual teaching?"

But then she saw that the 'parent' in question was actually Lucius Malfoy. Figures. 

"I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation," said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. "Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation."

Among those 'eccentric decisions' are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

Esmerelda rolled her eyes. Of course they didn't mention the fact that Moody was actually being impersonated by a Death Eater. 

Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts.

"I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence," said a Ministry insider last night.

Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts. "Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office," said Madam Marchbanks. "This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.' (For a full account of Madam Marchbanks' alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17).

"I doubt they resigned because they wanted to," Esmerelda muttered darkly. Politics were annoying. 

"So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this 'Educational Decree' and forced her on us! And now he's given her the power to inspect other teachers!" Hermione was breathing fast and her eyes were very bright. "I can't believe this. It's outrageous..."

"I know it is," Harry mumbled, looking down at his right hand for some reason. 

Ron suddenly grinned. 

Hermione turned to him. "What?"

"Oh, I can't wait to see McGonagall inspected," Ron said happily. "Umbridge won't know what's hit her."

"I hope I see it," Esmerelda hummed wistfully. 

"Well, come on," Hermione said, jumping up. "We'd better get going, we wouldn't want to be late for class..."

Esmerelda's first two classes, unfortunately, didn't have Professor Umbridge inspected them. Either she already inspected Professor Binns and Professor Babbling's classes or she just didn't find them interesting enough to bother with. 

Divination, however, was another story. 

She plopped down beside Harry and Ron at one of the tables at the far back of the classroom. The whole room was scrubbed clean, like all with all of her previous classes. Ever since the outbreak, the staff members have went around cleaning each piece of the castle every hour or so. The only reason such a feat was even possible with how big the building was was thanks to their magic. 

Professor Trelawny's classroom, which usually had some dust bunnies behind bookshelves and dirt around the stony windows, looked almost brand new. The poufs, chaise, and armchairs no longer had fading fabrics, the tables were untouched of any fingerprints, and even the fireplace seemed to be emitting white, clean flames that smelled strongly of disinfectant rather then perfume. 

"It smells like bleach in here," Harry moaned, covering his nose. 

"At least they're taking precautions," Esmerelda shrugged, her voice turning nasally due to her pinching her nose shut. "Have any of you guys had Umbridge yet?"

"No," Ron answered, the only one being unbothered by the strong smell. "And she hasn't inspected any of our classes either so far. We had Snape, though. He looked like shit." 

Harry snorted. "Good for him. He still acted like a tosser though." 

"Pity he couldn't stay away in St. Mungos any longer," Ron sighed in disappointment. 

Esmerelda giggled at that. It was a very nice week of not having Snape or Professor Umbridge around. Before she could add onto it, the trapdoor to the classroom suddenly opened and everyone's least favorite toad climbed in. 

The class, which had been talking cheerily, fell silent at once. The abrupt fall in the noise level made Professor Trelawney, who had been wafting about handing out Dream Oracles, look round.

Esmerelda bit back a snort when she got a full look of Professor Umbridge. Her face was entirely red and there was steam spewing out from her ears. 

"Looks like someone's had too much Pepperup Potion," she whispered over to Harry and Ron, who were snickering. 

"She's redder than my hair," Ron chortled. "Why would she come up here looking like that?"

"Must be real desperate to get her inspections done," Harry shrugged. "Either that, or the Ministry's shit at handling employee healthcare." 

"No one can beat the US though," Esmerelda added wisely and Harry, being the only one who understood what she meant, nodded in agreement. 

"Good afternoon, Professor Trelawney," Professor Umbridge said with a tight smile. She was probably aware of the students giggling at her. "You received my note, I trust? Giving the time and date of your inspection?"

Professor Trelawney nodded curtly and, looking very disgruntled, turned her back on Professor Umbridge and continued to give out books. Still smiling, Professor Umbridge grasped the back of the nearest armchair and pulled it to the front of the class so that it was a few inches behind Professor Trelawney's seat. She then sat down, took her clipboard from her flowery bag, and looked up expectantly, waiting for the class to begin.

Esmerelda frowned, taking notice of Professor Trelawney's cautious expression. "She looks scared," she muttered. 

Even though Professor Umbridge looked a little ridiculous with the red face and steaming ears, Professor Trelawney's hands were noticeably trembling. 

"We shall be continuing our study of prophetic dreams today," she said in a brave attempt at her usual mystic tones, though her voice shook slightly. "Divide into pairs, please, and interpret each other's latest nighttime visions with the aid of the Oracle."

She made as though to sweep back to her seat, saw Professor Umbridge sitting right beside it, and immediately veered left toward Parvati and Lavender, who were already deep in discussion about Parvati's most recent dream (Esmerelda thought that was a smart move in her opinion). 

"You've gotta be kidding me," Esmerelda whispered. "Class hasn't even started but she's already taking notes?"

Professor Umbridge was rapidly scrawling something onto her clipboard after Professor Trelawney walked away. It made her wonder what she was writing. It was probably something stupid like 'ten points docked off for walking too quickly'. 

A few minutes later, Professor Umbridge got to her feet and began to pace the room in Trelawney's wake, listening to her conversations with students and posing questions here and there. 

Harry bent his head hurriedly over his book. "Think of a dream, quick," he said to them. "In case the old toad comes our way."

"I got nothing," Esmerelda shook her head. All of her dreams were pleasant or peacefully nonexistent ever since Ethan's visit last week. 

"We already did that last time," Ron protested. "It's your turn, you tell us one."

"Oh, I dunno..." Harry said desperately. "Let's say I dreamed I was... drowning Snape in my cauldron. Yeah, that'll do..."

Esmerelda lit up. "Oh man, I wish my dreams were like that!" 

"Your dreams are weird," Ron commented as he opened his Dream Oracle. "Didn't you say last time you dreamt about getting tied up or something? Kinky." 

"Not like that!" She blushed.

 He snorted, his attention now drawn to his book. "Okay, mate, we've got to add your age to the date you had the dream, the number of letters in the subject... would that be 'drowning' or 'cauldron' or 'Snape'?"

"It doesn't matter, pick any of them," Harry said quickly, glancing behind him. Professor Umbridge was now standing at Professor Trelawney's shoulder making notes while the Divination teacher questioned Neville about his dream diary.

"What night did you dream this again?" Ron said, immersed in calculations.

"I dunno, last night, whenever you like," Harry told him.

"But—"

"—Shh!" 

Esmerelda quirked a brow before realizing that he was trying to eavesdrop in the two professors' conversation. 

"First of all," Professor Umbridge began. "When was the last time you've cleaned the classroom?"

"Just before this period started," Professor Trelawney answered. 

"Excellent!" Judging by the hand motion she made, Professor Umbridge gave her a check mark for that. 

But that was when all the good points ended. 

"And," she continued. "You've been in this post how long, exactly?"

Professor Trelawney scowled at her, arms crossed and shoulders hunched as though wishing to protect herself as much as possible from the indignity of the inspection. After a slight pause in which she seemed to decide that the question was not so offensive that she could reasonably ignore it, she said in a deeply resentful tone, "Nearly six-teen years."

"Quite a period," Professor Umbridge said, making a note on her clipboard. "So it was Professor Dumbledore who appointed you?"

"That's right," Professor Trelawney said shortly.

Professor Umbridge made another note. "And you are a great-great-granddaughter of the celebrated Seer Cassandra Trelawney?"

Cassandra, Esmerelda winced. In Ancient Greek times, Cassandra was a Seer who was cursed by Apollo and was then raped by Ajax after the fall of Troy. Pretty name, but ugly background. 

"Yes," Professor Trelawney held her head a little higher.

Another note on the clipboard.

"But I think—correct me if I am mistaken—that you are the first in your family since Cassandra to be possessed of second sight?"

Professor Trelawney was beginning to get nervous. "These things often skip—er—three generations."

Professor Umbridge's toad like smile widened.

"Of course," she said sweetly, making yet another note. "Well, if you could just predict something for me, then?"

She looked up inquiringly, still smiling. Professor Trelawney had stiffened.

"I don't understand you," she said, clutching convulsively at the shawl around her scrawny neck.

"I'd like you to make a prediction for me," Professor Umbridge repeated.

At this point, the entire class was watching them from behind their books now. 

Professor Trelawney as she drew herself up to her full height, her beads and bangles clinking. "The Inner Eye does not See upon command!" she said in scandalized tones.

Esmerelda winced, knowing that would mark her down some.

And as expected, Professor Umbridge made another note on her clipboard. "I see," she said softly. 

"I—but—but... wait!" Professor Trelawney suddenly cried out, in an attempt at her usual ethereal voice, though the mystical effect was ruined somewhat by the way it was shaking with anger. "I... I think I do see something... something that concerns you... Why, I sense something... something dark... some grave peril..."

Professor Trelawney pointed a shaking finger at Professor Umbridge who continued to smile blandly at her, eyebrows raised.

"I am afraid... I am afraid that you are in grave danger!" Professor Trelawney finished dramatically.

"I wish," Esmerelda muttered under her breath. 

There was a pause. Professor Umbridge's eyebrows were still raised. "Right," she said softly, scribbling on her clipboard once more. "Well, if that's really the best you can do..."

After making a final, grim note on her clipboard, she finally turned away and left. 

Harry turned towards Ron and Esmerelda, his brows pinched. "You don't think... she can actually get someone fired with these inspections, can she?" 

Esmerelda's face became serious. "Now that I think of it, she might. I didn't realize it until now, but so far she hasn't come to my previous classes like ancient runes or history. But she came here..." 

Ron looked at her weirdly. "Yeah so?"

"You heard Umbridge. She said that Professor Trelawney was personally appointed to this position by Dumbledore himself. Umbridge is probably using these inspections as a way to target Dumbledore's closest allies. Maybe use her notes to try and get rid of them." 

Harry's jaw dropped. "Wait, then... then the next classes she'll inspect are—"

"—McGonagall's, Flitwick's, Sprout's, and Hagrid's. Or well, Professor Grubbly-Plank's." She corrected. 

"That... would make sense," Ron said slowly. "I mean, we all know she was sent here by Fudge, and the man's paranoid. This seems like something he'd come up with." 

"But can she actually get them fired, though?" Harry pressed. "And what about Hagrid? He's part human and she hates part humans." 

"He's not here right now, so he's in the clear. I'd be more worried about Professor Flitwick," Esmerelda grimaced. 

And it turned out that she was right to worry about him. 

Professor Flitwick stood at the front of the class, wearing a calm and collected exterior even though Professor Umbridge was eyeing him closely, bent over at the side as if she was eyeballing his height. 

"Today," he began, skillfully ignoring the other professor as she suddenly started scrawling on her clipboard. "We will be learning how to do the Eradication Spell. It's a useful charm that allows the user to disintegrate certain objects—usually smaller ones. It also serves as the counter-charm for the... ah..."

Professor Flitwick stuttered to a pause when Professor Umbridge stepped up beside him with a measuring tape in her hand. The entire class' jaws dropped when she used it to try and measure his height. 

Esmerelda's brows shot up to her hairline at the obviously demeaning action. 

No way, she thought. This bitch did not just do that. 

Professor Flitwick was, understandably, offended, but he could do nothing but gawk at her. Professor Umbridge returned it with a sickeningly sweet smile. 

"Don't mind me," she chimed. "I just needed to make sure of something."

"I see," Professor Flitwick said tightly. 

The measuring tape vanished into her bag. "So, you're half-goblin correct?"

"Part," he corrected. "From my great, great grandfather." 

Professor Umbridge hummed and made another note on her clipboard. She wrote more aggressively then before despite the smile still plastered onto her face. 

"And do you believe your goblin heritage gets in the way of your teaching?" She asked. 

Professor Flitwick was floored. "Excuse me?"

Professor Umbridge spoke slowly," Do... you... believe... your—"

"—I teach just fine," he said stiffly. 

"...Quite rude," she murmured with a quirked brow. "This aggression comes from your goblin heritage, does it not? Have you ever lashed out at your students before?" 

"That's never happened before, I can assure you that," he replied in a cool manner. "Can I continue with the lesson now?"

She stepped back and nodded, but her hand was rapidly moving over the clipboard. 

She's such a fucking Karen, Esmerelda fumed. Always got something to bitch about. 

Professor Flitwick inhaled deeply, probably mentally counting to ten to keep his sanity intact. Over at the back, Professor Umbridge watched him intensely, her lips thinned like she was displeased by how 'goblin-like' he seemed to be breathing. 

"Where was I? Ah, right, the counter-charm," he muttered. "The Eradication Spell works as the counter-charm to the Reverse Spell. Please take your wands out." 

The class held out their wands, save for Esmerelda who had lost hers a few weeks before the Battle of Manhattan (whoops). The class had gotten used to seeing her using wandless magic at least, except for Professor Umbridge who was staring at her expectantly. 

Professor Flitwick flicked his wand, and a bunch of feathers floated at everyone's desks. 

"The incantation is 'Deletrius'. Now watch," he aimed his wand at his own feather and exclaimed, "Deletrius!" The feather disintegrated completely in a matter of seconds. 

The class "oooh"-ed while Professor Umbridge stared on, unimpressed. 

Lady, you don't even TEACH us any magic, wipe that look off your face! Esmerelda wanted to shout. 

Professor Flitwick beamed. "All you have to do is aim your wand at the object—in this case the feather—and say 'deletrius'! Now have at it. But do keep your wand still, you don't want to mis-aim and disintegrate a chair!" 

"Professor?" Hannah raised a hand. "Is it, erm, possible for us to accidentally hit a student with it instead?" 

The excitement was immediately wiped off of everyone's faces. 

Professor Flitwick laughed good-naturedly. "Good question, Miss Abbott! And not to worry, the Eradication Spell only works on small, lighter objects. The heavier something is, the harder it will be to disintegrate. The most you can delete, especially at this level, is a pillow, possibly. And there hasn't been any incident where someone accidentally disintegrated a human being." 

"Hem hem." 

Noooooooooooo, Esmerelda inwardly groaned. 

Professor Umbridge walked up until she was next to Professor Flitwick, whose smile had left his face. 

"Professor Flitwick, I do not believe this will be a safe lesson to teach them." She stated. "As you have previously mentioned, the Eradication Spell works on small objects. As someone with the height of 106 centimeters—therefore considered 'small'—wouldn't that mean you are at risk of being accidentally disintegrated as well?" 

The whole room fell silent. Even Esmerelda couldn't speak or think of anything, too stunned by the woman's audacity and sheer rudeness. 

Professor Flitwick's wand arm was shaking slightly. Nobody could really blame him if he were to hex her at this moment. Heck, all of them were mentally begging him to do it at this point, they'd probably help cover it up too. Esmerelda knew she would. 

"I have also stated, Professor Umbridge, that these students will not be able to disintegrate a human being." He said patiently. 

Her smile widened. "But you're not really a human being, are you? You're only part human." 

Professor Flitwick turned red and Esmerelda was pretty sure she was too. Professor Umbridge's 'I hate half-breeds' attitude was already pissing her off, and right now, her temper was flaring. But she restrained herself from doing anything. She wasn't reckless like Harry or Sirius after all, but damn, she could finally begin to see why it was so hard for Harry to keep his mouth shut. 

Screaming profanity at her would only result in her getting detention, so she couldn't do that. But she had other things up her sleeve at least. 

"Professor Umbridge," she finally spoke up. She could see some of her classmates shooting each other panicked looks as if they were all thinking 'oh shit, this is gonna get worse'. "That was quite rude, don't you think? You should apologize to him." 

The older woman blinked... and then she looked positively ashamed of herself. 

"Oh my goodness..." She said breathlessly, turning to Professor Flitwick with a regretful look on her face. "I...I'm so sorry, I wasn't..." 

Professor Flitwick seemed to realize what was going on and smiled for a brief second before his face turned somber. "The things you said were quite hurtful, and very very racist." 

The shame tripled. Professor Umbridge's eyes actually started to water. She couldn't take all the stares aimed at her and stumbled back, shrinking in on herself. 

"I—I'm so sorry," she choked.

"Please stand over at the corner," he instructed in a scolding tone. "And reflect on what you've done. You should be very ashamed with yourself, Dolores." 

Professor Umbridge sniffled disgustingly before scurrying over to the back of the class where the corner was. She stood there, facing the wall and crying softly to herself like a child in trouble while the rest of the class went on. 

Professor Flitwick and Esmerelda exchanged a thumbs up when nobody was looking. 

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Esmerelda and Draco were supposed to be going over their notes on spellcrafting during lunch, but they were gossiping instead. 

"No way," he said. 

"Yes way," she replied back, grinning. "It actually happened. That wicked witch started bawling like a baby in the middle of charms class. You can even ask the other Hufflepuffs!" 

He snorted. "I don't want to be caught dead talking to one of you Puffs. The only reason I tolerate you—just barely—is because we're cousins and you threatened me." 

She rolled her eyes. "For the hundredth time, I did not threaten you."

"Yes, you did!" He squawked. "You had a knife and everything! Why do you even have one?!" 

"It's an American thing," she said, as if the answer should've been obvious. "But anyways, Umbitch actually apologized to all those mean and racist things she said to him and then he made her stand in the corner!" 

"Umbitch?" He questioned. 

She shrugged. "I heard one of the Weasley twins call her that. I think it really fits. Oooh, oh my god, I just got an idea! I should dress up as her for Halloween! But wait, nobody really dresses up here..." 

"Can you stick to one topic?" He groaned impatiently. "There's no way Umbridge would actually apologize, she hates half-breeds."

"And do you?" She suddenly asked. 

"Huh?"

"Do you hate half-humans too?"

He stared at her incredulously. "Of course I do!"

"But why?"

He stared at her, lost. 

"Why do you hate half-humans?" She pressed on. What she noticed was that people who were racist generally never had a good, rational reason for why they hated a certain race. They almost always blanked out whenever they were asked to give a legitimate reason, and right now, Draco was doing just that. 

Draco stayed silent, looking down at his notebook like he was willing it to give him an answer right then and there. 

"You never once complained about Professor Flitwick before," she pointed out. "And he's only partially human." 

"He's different," he replied quickly. "He's actually decent. Unlike that oaf, Hagrid." 

"You only hate him because he's friends with Harry," she stated. "And because of the hippogriff incident." 

She knew she was pushing it right now. The somewhat bonding moments she had with her cousin had caused her to feel too comfortable to the point where she felt brave enough to call him out on his racism. Racist assholes were more fragile then they liked to believe (which was ironic since they just loved to think they were 'tough' and 'superior', hah!). Point out how wrong they were behaving and they'd lash out at you like a rabid animal. 

She didn't want Draco to leave, but after what happened with Professor Umbridge, she realized that there was a chance he could turn into something like her. 

And gods, she just wanted to get rid of that sickening behavior of his before it could get worse.

She twiddled with the ring Ethan had given her, and Draco's eyes darted to it too. A flash of disgust showed in his face, like he was suddenly reminded of her relationship with a 'muggle'. 

"You lack perspective," she told him. "Your prejudice, fueled by your own parents, and the need to feel superior about yourself has blinded you."

She had been wanting to say that for a while now, and not just to Draco but to every witch and wizard who shared the same close-minded beliefs about half-humans, non-humans, muggles, and muggle-borns. 

Unfortunately, judging by the scowl that he wore on his face, she had said it too soon. 

Draco started to rise to his feet. "I'm not going to get lessons on morality from someone who's the daughter of a mass murderer." 

She had heard that being thrown around so many times before that she was no longer fazed by it. Instead, her eyes glinted dangerously. 

"Don't lie to yourself, Draco. You know the truth." She murmured quietly, her voice full of steel. 

He stiffened. And then, without saying a word, he gathered his things and stormed out of the library. 

Esmerelda sighed to herself. Yeah. Too soon. 

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

"She makes you do what during her detentions?" Esmerelda demanded. 

Rather then answering, Harry heaved a sigh and lifted up his hand. It was soaked in Murtlap Essence courtesy of Hermione, but she could still see the faint scars shaped as letters: 'I must not tell lies'. 

"Oh my gods," she was horrified. "She—she's been doing that to you every week?!"

"Yep," he said in a dull tone. 

"Oh my gods," she repeated. 

"And Harry's too stubborn to tell anyone," Ron added, which didn't help. 

"I don't want to give her the satisfaction," Harry argued hotly. 

"Wait, wait, wait," she began to pace around their table at the library. "So the other teachers don't know? Oh who am I kidding, of course they don't, but... gods, this is so fucked up...! She's literally torturing you!" 

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" Hermione agreed furiously. "Harry, please just tell somebody. Tell—tell Dumbledore! He'll fire that wicked woman!" 

"I doubt he even has the power to do that," he muttered under his breath, but he was probably bitter at the fact that the old headmaster's been ignoring them since the year started. 

Esmerelda pursed her lips. As much as she hated it, Dumbledore might truly not have the power to fire her, especially since she was appointed by the Ministry. Plus, keeping Umbridge here had to be some sort of tactical decision he had made. She could see why it made sense, it was better to keep your enemies close, after all. Dumbledore knew of her, if he were to succeed in firing her, then they'd have to deal with a whole new person they'd have to try and figure out. They could even be worse then Umbridge—if that was even possible. 

Oh my gods, what if they hired Draco's dad to be the next DADA professor?! She shuddered at the thought. It was unlikely, but the Ministry were full of idiots so who knew. 

And then... Esmerelda got an idea. 

"Harry," she said seriously. "The next time you get a detention, tell me. I... have a plan." 

"A... plan?" He echoed. 

She nodded. "Yeah. Just tell me the next time you have to go to detention, okay?"

He looked absolutely lost. "Er... alright?" He agreed. 

"We still need to do something about her," Hermione said determinedly. 

"I suggest poison," Ron chimed in. 

Hermione shot that idea down pretty fast. "No," she said, and Ron deflated. "I mean, something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and how we're not going to learn any defense from her at all."  

"Well, what can we do about that?" Ron yawned. "'S too late, isn't it? She got the job, she's here to stay, Fudge'll make sure of that."

Esmerelda was started to get a suspicion that this whole thing was staged. 

"Well," Hermione said tentatively. "You know, I was thinking today..." She shot a slightly nervous look at Harry and then plunged on, "I was thinking that—maybe the time's come when we should just—just do it ourselves."

"Do what ourselves?" Harry said doubtfully, still floating his hand in the essence of murtlap tentacles.

"Well—learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves," she clarified.

Esmerelda blinked. That, in her opinion, was a brilliant idea. She knew from firsthand experience that if you refrain from learning a certain subject for a long period of time, you'd start to lose the skill (exhibit A was when she practically blanched upon seeing Ethan's math homework)

Plus, war was quite literally brewing in Wizarding Britain with Voldemort sneakily rising thanks to the aid of the Ministry. While it seemed like a political war at most, politics can still get bloody. Self-defense was going to be necessary and they either learned it now or the hard way. 

(Plus, less dead wizards meant less paperwork for her, which was also a nice bonus.)

"Come off it," Ron groaned. "You want us to do extra work? D'you realize Harry and I are behind on homework again and it's only the second week?"

"But this is much more important than homework!" Hermione exclaimed, before someone in the distance (probably Madam Pince) shushed her. 

"I didn't think there was anything in the universe more important than homework," Ron said.

"Don't be silly, of course there is!" She disagreed. "It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge's first lesson, for what's waiting out there. It's about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year—"

"—That can work," Esmerelda said brightly. It worked for her back in her earlier years! "But is it going to be like a book club or something? We're just reading all the spells from our textbooks and stuff?"

"No, I think we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," she shook her head. "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong."

"If you're talking about Lupin..." Harry began.

"No, no, I'm not talking about Lupin," she replied. "He's too busy with the Order and anyway, the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and that's not nearly often enough."

"Who, then?" He asked, frowning at her.

It should've been pretty obvious who she was talking about...

Hermione heaved a very deep sigh.

"Isn't it obvious?" She said. "I'm talking about you, Harry."

There was a moment's silence as he stared at her wordlessly. And then: 

"About me what?" He asked dumbly. 

Another sigh. "I'm talking about you teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry stared at her.

Ron nodded sagely. "That's an idea." 

"What's an idea?" Harry blinked.

Harry, catch up, Esmerelda thought. 

"You," Ron answered. "Teaching us to do it."

"But..." Harry was grinning now, sure the pair of them were pulling his leg. "But I'm not a teacher, I can't—"

"—Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione said.

"Excuse me?" He laughed a little. "Essie's the best, she can literally do wandless magic!" 

"Well, yeah, but remember last year when you came to me looking half-dead and barely able to walk, muttering something about Essie's training methods?" Hermione rose a brow. "I figured you wouldn't want a repeat of that." 

"What are you talking about?" Esmerelda frowned a little. "What's wrong with my training method?"

"Nothing!" They all said in unison. 

She relaxed a little, a small smile growing on her face. "Oh, good. I thought something was wrong with it... but hey, if Harry doesn't wanna teach, then maybe I can—" 

"—No, no, no, no, we weren't suggesting that," Harry said quickly, growing pale for some reason. "Um, you've probably got loads of things to do."

"I can squeeze this into my schedule!" She said helpfully. 

"U-um, Essie," Hermione squeaked, the image of a shaken up Harry back in fourth year flashing back into her mind. She had never seen someone in such a terrible condition before. There was no way she could let Esmerelda teach a bunch of unprepared (physically and mentally) kids—that was basically condemnation. "I really think Harry would have a better, ah, affect because of what he's done."

Esmerelda deflated. 

"What I've done?" Said boy repeated incredulously. "And what exactly have I done?"

"Let's think," Ron said, pulling a face like Goyle concentrating. "Uh... first year—you saved the Stone from You-Know-Who."

"But that was luck," Harry protested. "That wasn't skill—"

"—Second year," Ron interrupted. "You killed the basilisk and destroyed Riddle."

"Essie was with me," he said, but then backtracked when he saw the hopeful look on her face. "N-not that I'm saying you should teach, of course, you've probably got other things to do." 

"Third year," Ron rushed in before Esmerelda could say anything.  "You fought off about a hundred dementors at once—"

"—You know that was a fluke, if the Time-Turner hadn't—"

"—Last year," Ron continued, almost shouting now. "You fought off You-Know-Who again—"

"—Listen to me!" Harry snapped angrily. "Just listen to me, all right? It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck—I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I didn't plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help—"

He paused to take a breath, but he was growing angrier and angrier by the second. Hermione and Ron didn't notice, they were both smirking at each other. 

Esmerelda pursed her lips, wondering if she should step in, but it seemed like Harry really needed this chance to vent. He probably forced himself to keep it all in when he was stuck at the Dursleys. 

"Don't sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn't I?" He said heatedly. "I know what went on, all right? And I didn't get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because—because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right—but I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing—STOP LAUGHING!"

The bowl of murtlap essence fell to the floor and smashed as he rose to his feet. 

"You don't know what it's like! You—neither of you—you've never had to face him, have you? You think it's just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time you know there's nothing between you and dying except your own—your own brain or guts or whatever—like you can think straight when you know you're about a second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die—they've never taught us that in their classes, what it's like to deal with things like that—and you guys sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, you just don't get it, Diggory and I could've died, if Voldemort hadn't needed me—"

"—We weren't saying anything like that, mate," Ron said, looking aghast. "We're not minimizing what you went through—"

He looked helplessly at the girls. 

"Harry," Esmerelda said patiently. "Come on, sit back down. It's a miracle Madam Pince didn't hear you, though... but this is why Hermione and Ron want you to be the teacher so badly. You know what it's like to face Voldemort."

"If you want a better teacher," he said hollowly, dropping to his seat. "Then get Diggory. He... he handled it better then I did," he admitted. "All I did was run around. He protected me. The only thing I did was use Priori Incantatum—and that was just an accident."

"You got the both of you out of that situation in the end, though, didn't you?" She asked. 

"Well... yeah," he mumbled. "After he got knocked out, fighting three Death Eaters mind you, I grabbed him and the Cup and transported us back. But that's really all I did. I'm not a hero, I'm not some sort of expert. I just got lucky." 

Hermione's face was stricken. "Well, I doubt Cedric Diggory would help us, plus that was just one situation. You've had years of experience facing... facing V-Voldemort." 

It was the first time Hermione had ever said his name, and that must have been what calmed Harry down the most. His shoulders sank and his breathing became less hard. 

"...Think about it... please?" Hermione said weakly. 

Harry looked ashamed of himself, to the point where he couldn't even speak. Instead, he nodded his head.

Hermione stood up. "Alright," she said in a forcefully natural voice. "We ought to head back to our dorms now. The library will be closing up soon." 

Ron had gotten to his feet too. "Coming?" He said awkwardly to Harry and Esmerelda, who had yet to get up.

"I need to gather my things," Esmerelda lied. She could easily pack them up. 

"You guys go on ahead," Harry mumbled. "I'll just clear this up." He indicated the smashed bowl on the floor. 

Ron nodded and left.

"Reparo," Harry muttered, pointing his wand at the broken pieces of china. They flew back together, good as new, but there was no returning the murtlap essence to the bowl.

Esmerelda packed up. "If it makes you feel better, I think you'll be a good teacher," she said. 

"Erm," coming from her, it didn't feel like much of a compliment. To be fair, her standards of teaching were probably dangerously low judging by how she taught (still a helluva lot better then Snape and Umbridge though). "Thanks." 

"No, seriously," she insisted. "I can actually imagine you as being a DADA professor for Hogwarts one day. Now come on, we're probably the last ones left here." 

A DADA professor? Harry wondered to himself. He then gathered up his things as well and followed after her. 

— author's note —

All of your comments were VERY entertaining to read (especially the ones from my Wattpad readers 😂) I just know ya'll are gonna go wild when the actual smut comes up 😂😂😂

So in Cursed Child Harry becomes an auror (head auror I think). While that's understandable since he defeated Voldy and stuff, I actually reeeaally like the idea that he becomes a DADA professor instead. I mean, he was pretty good at teaching the lessons and he was super good at helping each individual student too (like Neville, Ginny, etc). So yeah, I'm team DADAprofessor!Harry then auror!Harry.

Harry when Essie volunteers to train the wizards:

ALSO!!!! EmilyJacksonxx (or Emily0224653 for my Wattpad users) made some nice banners for this series, so take a look: