The Untouchable

C8: Das Kapital

Harry sat in a pink, kitten-themed office and stared blankly into the determined, watery eyes of Professor Umbridge.

Oh, the irony.

The woman took PERSONAL OFFENCE to Harry's declaration of Voldemort's return (capital letters not doing it justice in Harry's mind). Harry smiled at her pleasantly and the woman smiled back, though a small twitch developed in the far corner of her eyebrow. Harry smiled wider.

"Mister Potter," the woman simpered in her high pitch, whiny voice. "You have been very bad."

Harry wondered if the woman had a punishment fetish.

"You must retract what you said about his return," the woman continued. Harry cocked his head, looking at her from a different angle. It didn't help; she looked unmistakably like a toad.

"Must I?" Harry asked curiously. "Or should I?"

The woman's eyes gleamed. "You must."

"Or?" Harry asked slowly, drawing out the word, wondering how far she would go.

The woman positively grinned in response.

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The school year with Umbridge turned into a rather spectacular affair. The Gryffindors, though they despised Harry and believed every word of what was written in The Daily Prophet (and it was Not Nice), did not take well to Umbridge's imposing existence.

The first DADA class was amazingly boring, with the children all forced to read a Ministry approved book on defence that aimed more towards numbing people's mind than actual defensive protection. Harry didn't particularly care, as classes were always something of a chore. For Hermione, however, it was seen as an affront to education as a whole. Which, Harry reflected at a later time, was really a turning point for Hermione; when an adult ignored the sanctity of school, the girl decided that authority figure wasn't worth the soles of the shoes they stood on and would do as she pleased, when she pleased.

"Mister Potter," Umbridge whined as the kitten-themed clock on the back wall ticked steadily towards the end of class.

"Yep?" Harry asked, looking up from his reading. He was surprised to note that she looked rather... Annoyed. He widened his own eyes from behind his coke-bottle glasses to make himself look even more innocent. That always seemed to really piss her off.

"Do you have any complaints about our new curriculum?" Umbridge asked, her large, watery eyes flickering over the classroom as students started to look up from their reading.

"Not particularly, no," Harry answered. He then realised that the woman was baiting him, trying to get him to act out. He wondered why.

"Surely, with your recent declaration of the Dark Lord's resurrection," her words were heavily laden with mockery, drawing a few laughing titters from through the classroom, "You would have a complaint about not being able to use your wand."

There was a beat of silence, then. Most students, if not all, knew Harry did not exactly 'need' a wand. The school year before had proven it. Harry wondered who would tell her first.

"You're the professor," Harry responded at last, enjoying the brief moment of silence and confusion in Umbridge's expression. "I would never dare contradict you."

"Is the Dark Lord back or not?" Umbridge snarled viciously, her sudden outburst jarring and making a few students jump.

"Oh, he's back alright," Harry responded in a heartbeat.