Seamus left the dormitory before Harry had even put on his socks.

"Does he think he'll turn into a nutter if he stays in a room with me too long?" asked Harry loudly.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," muttered Dean. "He's just..." But he seemed to be unable to say exactly what Seamus was, and after a slightly awkward pause followed him out of the room.

Harry pursed his lips angrily.

"Don't mind them, Harry..."

Harry took a deep breath. He clearly didn't want to not mind them, and Ben knew it hadn't been his best piece of advice, but it was also clear that Harry didn't want to argue with him.

As soon as they went downstairs, Hermione noticed the both angry and gloomy look on his face.

"Seamus reckons Harry's lying about You-Know-Who," answered Ron, since Harry didn't respond to the girl's question.

"Yes, Lavender thinks so too," she sighed.

"Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I'm a lying, attention-seeking prat, have you?" Harry blurted out.

"Harry."

"No," she denied calmly. "I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about you, actually. And it would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down Ron's and my throats, Harry, because if you haven't noticed, we're on your side."

There was a short pause. "Sorry..."

"That's quite all right," nodded Hermione with dignity. Then she shook her head. "Don't you remember what Dumbledore said at the end-of-term feast last year?"

"Um..."

"About You-Know-Who. He said, 'His gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust-' "

"How do you remember stuff like that?" Ron's eyes were sparkling in admiration as he looked at her.

"I listen, Ron."

"So do I, but I still couldn't tell you exactly what-"

"The point," Hermione pressed on loudly, "is that this sort of thing is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who's only been back two months, and we've started fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat's warning was the same; stand together, be united-"

"And Harry said it last night," retorted Ron, "if that means we're supposed to get matey with the Slytherins, fat chance."

"Well, I think it's a pity we're not trying for a bit of inter-House unity."

A line of fourthyear Ravenclaws was crossing the entrance hall; they caught sight of Harry and hurried to form a tighter group, as though frightened he might attack stragglers.

"Yeah, we really ought to be trying to make friends with people like that," said Harry sarcastically.

They followed the Ravenclaws into the Great Hall and, as soon as they approached the Gryffindor table, Alycia came running up to Ben, followed by a short girl whose hair was tied up in two dark braids. If he wasn't mistaken, it was that girl Alycia had clapped for during the sorting.

"Ben!"

"Alycia!" he replied, mocking her tone teasingly.

"Hello," his sister greeted his friends, who waved back at her. Harry's grumpy expression faded.

"Hi," said the other little girl shyly.

"Rose, this is my older brother, Ben," Alycia told the girl, and turned to him. "And this is Rose, my new friend."

"Nice to meet you," mumbled Rose nervously, shakily extending a hand at him.

"Nice to meet you too," he smiled, shaking her hand softly.

"We need your help, Ben."

"With what?" he asked as Harry was approached by Angelina Johnson.

Alycia brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "We're supposed to have Transfigurations together, but I really don't know where that class is. It took us half an hour to find each other's common rooms... And it would've taken us another one to get here if it wasn't for that Hufflepuff prefect... What was her name, Rose?"

"Marina."

"Ah, yes, Marina," Alycia nodded effusively. "She asked me if I was your sister, Ben."

"Did she?"

"Yeah, are you two friends?"

"Mhm," he nodded. "Well, I'll make sure to help you get to class."

"I'll go with you," said Harry, suddenly. "Maybe we're lucky enough and arrive late to ours."

"Why would you be lucky for being late?" asked Rose, her dark eyes wide open as she looked at him.

"Nevermind."

Alycia seemed to be loving to introduce her new friend Rose to every single person she knew. Ginny, who had developed a soft spot for her during the summer, spent all breakfast chatting to both girls, and she introduced them to some of her own friends.

"Look at today!" groaned Ron. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts... Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day!"

"Ugh, I have Muggle Studies, too."

"I thought you enjoyed Muggle Studies?" frowned Hermione.

"Yeah, but it was better when you were there, too."

The truth was, he didn't fancy the idea of spending an hour alone with Marina. Everything became so confusing whenever he thought of her. People kept referring to her as his girlfriend, even Hermione, which led to him wondering how many people thought it was true, too. He wondered if she thought there was something between them. He hoped not.

On their way to Transfigurations, Ben was reminded of when, back in first year, he had needed Cedric's help to find the exact same classroom. It had been four years ago, exactly. He couldn't wrap his mind around how much everything had changed since then. Back then, Cedric was simply an older boy he had just met, and he had become one of his favourite people ever, his older brother. And now he was-

There was a pang in his heart at the memory.

He could tell that he'd end up crying over him again later that day. He only had to wait a couple of hours.

"Walker!"

Alycia and Ben spun around at once, watching a smirking Malfoy trotting towards them. Harry immediately began glaring at him.

"Which one?" asked Alycia, causing Rose, who evidently still didn't know a thing about Malfoy and the Walkers, to let out a weak chuckle.

"You," he said, looking at her.

"Don't you dare-"

"I didn't even say anything yet."

"Your presence is enough," said Harry.

"Watch your tone, Potter, let me remind you that I'm a prefect."

Harry's jaw tensed.

"You haven't spoken to me since you last betrayed my brother by telling on him back in that Christmas dinner," she hissed, sounding angry yet serene. "And I would really like it if it stayed like that. Neither my brother nor I want to have anything to do with you, so please get over your weird obsession with him and his friend Harry, and leave all of us alone."

Malfoy blinked. He looked at Ben, as though he had just been punched. Or as though someone had just called him out for something he had thought was a secret.

"You've heard her."

"Yes, I'm perfectly aware of it, Walker. Perhaps you're surprised by it, since your attention is way too absorbed by some other... things, but I'm capable of hearing," he said, seeming desperate to simply talk back, despite how stupid it sounded. "I was only here to tell you that I'm glad you, unlike your stupid brother, have made your parents proud by being a Slytherin."

He breathed in deeply after finishing his sentence, looking proud of having finished it.

"Um... Okay?" she murmured, eyeing Ben. "Thank you, I guess."

"I hope you don't follow in his footsteps in the rest of the aspects, though," he continued. "I wouldn't like to find out you ended up like him."

"What do you mean, end up like me?"

"You know what I mean," he whispered. Before he could tell him that he, in fact, had no idea what he ment, Malfoy's eyes slid down his shirt.

Ben tensed up, and lowered his volume. "H-How do you know about that?"

"Idunno... How do I?" he smirked.

His eyes widened in sudden realisation. "They've been with you?" Malfoy's smirk expanded even further in response.

"Well guessed."

"They've told you...? You know why it happened?"

Malfoy leaned forward, getting close to his ear. They were already speaking quietly enough, but if the Slytherin had to get so close that his lips brushed against his skin for an instant, it was a bad sign.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" snapped Harry hotly, taking a step towards them.

Malfoy grabbed Ben by his robes, and pushed him aside, before uttering a sentence that made his blood run cold. "Have fun with your little boyfriend, Walker."

A shiver went slowly down his spine, only getting worse when Malfoy distanced himself from him, a corner of his lips turned upwards, forming a slight lopsided smirk. His grey eyes sparkled in... pure evil as he looked at him.

"Goodbye."

An amused expression on his face, he left.

Paler than usual, Ben turned to his friends. Harry was frowning, watching as Malfoy's robes disappeared as he crossed the corner. Alycia looked terrified, and confusion was written all over Rose's face. Poor girl.

"What has he told you?" his sister asked.

"Nothing," he stammered, lost in thought. He cleared his throat. "Let's go, come on."

Before any of them could insist, Ben began walking down the corridor. His mind was spinning with all of the awful possibilities that could happen now that Malfoy knew. He could tell everyone, and destroy his whole reputation, and Harry's, too, even further. He refused to let people hate Harry for a new reason. There was no way, absolutely no fucking way he would let Malfoy get away with it if he crossed a line and exposed them. He didn't care what he had to do, he'd make him pay for it.

And why on earth were his parents gossiping about their son's romantic life like that? Especially in their current situation, if Malfoy was telling the truth about them being hidden with them. They had attacked someone, and aurors were trying to find them, and the first thing they did was tell the Malfoys that their son had kissed a boy?

Until it hit him.

He suddenly understood. It was all one of their stupid games. Ben knew things about them that could lead to them ending up in Azkaban, but there was no proof. There was no proof of them being active Death Eaters, or of them having attacked Ebony. On the other hand, his parents knew things about him that could destroy him if they spread. They knew about the kiss, and about Malfoy's version of the incident between him and Ben.

As long as Ben didn't speak, they wouldn't.

———————————————

Ben didn't sit next to Marina for Muggle Studies.

However, as soon as the class was over, before he had the chance to leave, he was approached by her, a worried look on her face. "Hey, Ben."

"Hello."

"I wanted to tell you that I'm very sorry."

He blinked. "For what?"

"For the way I mentioned Cedric yesterday," she said. "I realised it sounded like I didn't care, and I don't want you to think I don't. He was one of the older Hufflepuffs I was closer with, after all."

"It's fine. I get it."

"Thanks," she sighed. "So, do you have Defense Against the Dark Arts now?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, I have it too!"

"Have they mixed all four houses for DADA?"

"I think so," she shrugged as they walked out of the classroom. "Maybe that way it's easier, since we have two consecutive hours of it. Oh, and it might be because we're having our O.W.L.s this year."

"I'd forgotten about that."

"I wish I had, I've already started revising for them..."

"That reminds me of Hermione."

Marina's smile suddenly dropped, and she went silent. Ben frowned, confused. What had he done, now?

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.

"No, no," she shook her head, and ran a hand through her brunette hair. "It's just... I- Nevermind."

"Uh... Are you sure?"

"You two are quite close, right?"

He assumed he meant Hermione and him by 'two'.

"Yeah. Well, all four of us are. We've been best friends for years."

"But... Um. Are you and her something more than that?"

There was a second of silence.

"Are you asking me if she's my girlfriend?"

Marina looked embarrassed, and began avoiding his gaze. Ben breathed in deeply, starting to be annoyed by everyone asking about him dating any single girl he had ever coexisted with. He was glad that at least Leah and him weren't that close, and she preferred being with Thomas and Delilah, or he'd definitely be asked about her, too.

"Well that's funny of you to think," he said. "Since she's convinced that you and I are dating."

Marina dropped a book, and bent down to pick it up so quickly Ben didn't have the chance to do it for her.

"Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. She didn't reply. "No, by the way, Hermione and I are just best friends. I see her more as a sister, somehow. And, even if it wasn't like that, I'm not interested in having a girlfriend."

Or in having absolutely anything with anybody, if it wasn't him.

Marina nodded in understanding. "I get it."

Never before had arriving at a classroom relieved Ben so much. Most of their classmates were already there, but not Professor Umbridge, luckily, the last thing he wanted was to have to hear a reprimand from her for being late. Hermione was already sitting in the front row, and Ron and Harry were standing near her as they chatted. The three turned around when they heard the sound of the door opening, and they smiled at him.

"Bye, Marina," he said as he walked up to his friends. "Turns out you're not the only one already studying for our O.W.L.s, Hermione."

"Really?" asked Ron, as though he didn't believe it.

"Mhm, Marina is, too."

Both Ron and Harry's faces dropped at once, while Hermione's lit up. "That's great! I'm sure she'll do awesome."

"Why don't you two start a Marina fan club, if you love her so much?" said Harry, all of a sudden.

Ben and Hermione gaped at him. "What are you on, Harry?"

"On nothing, thank you very much," he grumbled. "I was just making a suggestion."

"And we were just trying to support a friend," retorted Hermione.

"Mhm, friend..."

Ben clenched his jaw. "What are you trying to say?"

"That she clearly wants something more than a friendship with you."

"And you're so sure of that because it's exactly the same way you feel about Mei-Xing, am I right?" he snapped. As Ben took the empty place beside Hermione, and slammed their new Defense Against the Dark Arts book onto the table, interrupting Harry as he was about to say something.

Ron grabbed Harry's arm and took him to a nearby table. It didn't take long for their whispers to be heard.

"He didn't mean that," Hermione whispered to Ben. "He's just very tense."

"I know."

"Don't be mad at him, it's the last thing he'd need."

"I'm not mad at him. I've never been."

"I'm glad..." she smiled. "What did you mean by what you said about Mei-Xing?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Hermione took a second to answer. "I don't think he does like her."

Ben didn't say anything, fearing it would end up with her finding out about his feelings for Harry. He didn't like hiding it from her, but he wasn't so sure anymore if he had the right to tell her, since he was acting a bit weirdly with Harry, despite his attempts to avoid that. Besides, he was starting to seriously think his friend was starting to develop some sort of crush on Mei-Xing, something that made him feel odd. She was his friend, and she had been Cedric's girlfriend for as long as he knew her. And now he was gone, and Harry seemed to fancy her. He didn't even think it was right of him to feel jealous about it.

"Why not?"

"I think he's just awkward around her because that's the way he is."

"He's not like that with us."

"Well, of course, we've been his friends for years," she laughed, and her smile faded slowly. "Besides, I bet he's extra-awkward with her because he feels guilty for what happened to... You know."

That pang on the heart was back.

"Yeah..."

"Well, good afternoon!" said a childish and high-pitched voice from the back of the room. Everyone turned to see Professor Umbridge, walking up the classroom, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the previous night and a black velvet bow on top of her head.

A few people mumbled "Good afternoon," in reply.

"Tut, tut," Professor Umbridge shook her head as she got to the front. "That won't do, now, will it? I would like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted.

"There, now," she smiled sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

Hermione and Ben exchanged confused glances. They had never been asked to take their wands away at class. However, everyone obeyed as Professor Umbridge pulled out her wand and directed it to the blackboard, where words began appearing.

Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles.

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" asked Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theorycentered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

She fluttered her wand, and the first message faded, being replaced by a series of sentences.

Course aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she spoke up again, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

A dull murmur of assent ran through the classroom.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "I think we'll try that again. When I ask you a question, I would like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge."

"Excellent. I would like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Professor Umbridge sat down on the chair behind the teacher's desk, as her toad-resembling eyes observed all of them. Ben opened his book, and flipped a couple of pages until he found the chapter Professor Umbridge had instructed them to read. It took him a minute to unconsciously start making a mental list of things he would've preferred doing instead of reading any further. It included being friends with the Slytherins, being sent to a foreign country where he could communicate with absolutely none, and being stabbed.

He suddenly realised Hermione hadn't even opened her book, and her hand was up into the air as she stared at Umbridge. However, the woman wasn't paying attention. After a few minutes had passed, pretty much everybody in the room was staring at Hermione, and it was clear that Umbridge was blatantly ignoring the situation.

"Um, Professor Umbridge?" called Ben.

"Yes, dear?" she asked.

Ben winced slightly at the word 'dear'. "Hermione's got a question."

"Who is Hermione?"

"The only person in the entire room whose hand is raised, I assume."

A couple of muffled chuckles were heard. Professor Umbridge's eyebrows twitched as she looked around, and her eyes widened as they stopped on Hermione, as though she had just noticed her.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

"Not about the chapter, no."

"Well, we're reading just now," smiled Professor Umbridge. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims."

Her eyebrows raised.

"And your name is-?"

"As my friend Ben previously mentioned, Hermione."

"I meant your last name, sweetheart."

"Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully."

"Well, I don't," Hermione insisted. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

Professor Umbridge gave a short laugh. "Using defensive spells? Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron interrogated loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.-?

"Weasley," he said, raising his hand.

Professor Umbridge turned her back on him, so all three Harry, Hermione and Ben raised their own, too.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," repeated Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice.

"Since when do you need to be a Ministry-trained educational expert to have some basic knowledge?" asked Ben.

"And your name is?"

"Benjamin Walker."

There was glint in her eyes.

"I think I have already mentioned that students must raise their hands in order to speak, Mr. Walker?"

"And I already am raising my hand."

Professor Umbridge smiled kindly at him, and turned to Hermione again. "I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"

"And what exactly is the use of that?" Harry asked loudly. "If we're going to be attacked it won't be in a-"

"Hand, Mr. Potter!" sang Professor Umbridge.

Harry thrust his fist in the air. Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him again, but now several other people had their hands up too.

"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge said to Dean.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" he said. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free..."

"I repeat," said Professor Umbridge. "Do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"No, but..."

"I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school," she began talking over him, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed... Not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Professor Lupin," piped up Dean Thomas angrily, "he was the best we ever-"

"Hand, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying, you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day..."

"No, we haven't, we just-"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"

Hermione put up her hand; Professor Umbridge turned away from her.

"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you."

"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" exclaimed Dean Thomas hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads-"

"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" she sang. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?" she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.

"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions."

"Without ever practicing them before?" repeated Parvati, incredulously. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough..."

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" inquired Harry.

"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world..."

"So the real world stops existing while we're here?" spat Ben, fiercely.

"I never said that-"

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?" exclaimed Harry, anger glistening in his eyes.

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."

"Oh yeah?"

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.

"Hmm, let's think..." he said in a mock thoughtful voice, "maybe Lord Voldemort?"

Ron gasped; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool; Ben pursed his lips. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

Harry was glaring at her so intensely that it seemed he was about to blow her up, like it happened with his aunt.

"Now, let me make a few things quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead-"

"He wasn't dead," noted Harry. "But yeah, he's returned!"

"Mr.-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-ten-points-do-notmake-matters-worse-for-yourself," said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."

"It is NOT a lie! I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" concluded Professor Umbridge triumphantly. "This evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners.' "

Professor Umbridge sat back on her chair. On the other hand, Harry stood up, causing everyone to turn to him.

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?" Harry asked, his voice shaking.

Ben's breath hitched. There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron, Hermione and Ben, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night that Cedric had died. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident."

"Don't act like you're sorry it happened!" shouted Ben, all of a sudden, standing up too. "You don't care at all, and neither does the Ministry. If any of you did, you wouldn't keep pretending the Dark Lord hasn't returned."

"Mr. Walker!"

"And don't you dare call it a tragic accident, Professor, because my brother's death was more than just an accident you and the Ministry can use in order to put everyone against Harry and Dumbledore!"

"Your brother?" Professor Umbridge repeated, furrowing her eyebrows. "Cedric Diggory was not your brother, you are a Walker."

"Is that what you care about?" he roared. "An innocent boy who had his whole life ahead of him has been murdered!"

Professor Umbridge took a deep breath, as she forced her diabolical grin back on her face. "If you are all so sure that Cedric Diggory has been killed, and there has been no proof of that certain Dark Wizard having returned, it might be because his murderer is... someone else."

An accusation like that was way too unbelievable. Ben looked at Harry, who was as surprised as him.

"Voldermort killed him, Professor Umbridge, and you know it," he stated, shaking.

Professor Umbridge's face was blank. For a moment it seemed like she was going to scream at him. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear."

He kicked his chair aside and strode up to the teacher's desk Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink, and started scribbling, hunched over. Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear," she instructed.

Harry snatched the note from her hands, and stormed out of the room, without looking back at anyone.

"And you, Mr. Walker, ought to consider yourself lucky that I have decided not to put you in detention."

"Why's that?"

"Because it seems like you were deeply affected by Mr. Diggory's passing, and-"

"So was Harry," he interrupted her. "I wasn't there when it happened. Harry was. He had to see him be killed by... By Voldemort, right in front of his eyes."

Professor Umbridge pursed her lips momentarily. "Mr. Walker, unless you stop lying to defend your friend, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to follow him out of the classroom."

Hermione tried to pull him down by his robes, knowing exactly what he was about to do. He looked down at her, and she let go of him.

"Don't worry, Professor, you won't have to ask me to."

And, with that, he didn't hesitate before leaving the classroom.

A/N: random question but which character would you like me to write a fic of?