HP: god of potions

Chapter 94

Finally, her tone turned ominously hopeful. "There are large changes coming soon, changes walking the fine line between order and chaos. Know only that these changes are for the best, and to prevent the destruction of our civilization from its own decay. Thank you." With that, she smiled at them all. Gray got up and clapped mockingly, causing all his fangirls to follow suit, which made her proud for a second. Jamal then said, "Why do I feel like there is going to be a great war coming soon?" His friend snapped, "I swear to God, Jamal, if you mention ancient Camelot again, I will fry your penis and feed it to you," making everyone at the table look at them suspiciously.

It was early in the morning, and Gray was outside the walls of Hogwarts, floating a couple of feet above the ground while sitting on his slightly fatter and longer wand, which he was using as a broom. He was reading books on robotics and another book on golems. Of course, things couldn't remain peaceful as every window and door was littered with fans watching him. Eventually, Umbridge bombarded the scene, shooing everyone back to their classrooms before turning to Gray, who had disappeared. "That meandering…" she muttered, stopping mid-sentence before returning to the castle, where she saw Gray walking away. "Apparition," she murmured with interest, noting that an underage wizard like Gray wasn't allowed to perform it. "Hmm, I could use that," she thought.

The sun rose over the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, casting a golden glow on the castle's turrets. Inside, Harry Potter sprinted through the maze-like corridors, his hurried footsteps echoing off the stone walls. He skidded around a corner and burst through the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, his breath labored. As the entire class turned to look at him, Harry muttered, "Sorry, Professor…" Professor Umbridge, her toad-like smile plastered across her face, responded with venomous sweetness, "Hmm, let's see, five points from Gryffindor for coming in late." Harry scowled but quickly slumped into his seat next to Ron and Hermione, glaring at his desk, while Gray sat nearby, relaxing and reading.

"This is a true holiday," Gray thought to himself as Professor Umbridge resumed her saccharine speech, her voice dripping with condescension. "Now, as I was saying before Mr. Potter interrupted with his antics, your Defense Against the Dark Arts education has been fragmented and disjointed in past classes. This is about to be rectified." She waved her wand, and words scrawled themselves on the blackboard as if by magic. "I will follow a pre-approved Ministry-prepared, theory-centered Defense lesson plan. Copy this down." The students began jotting the words into their notebooks, except Gray, who continued reading, and Hermione, who sat rigid with her hand raised. The class turned their attention to her as Umbridge finally sighed and addressed her. "Yes?"

"I wanted to know something about your course aims," Hermione began, her tone firm but respectful. Umbridge's smile stiffened. "Well, they should be perfectly self-evident." Hermione pressed on, undeterred. "They say nothing about actually doing spells." Umbridge laughed dismissively. "I can imagine no circumstance in my class where you would need to use spells, my dear!" Hermione's voice sharpened. "But surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is practical application?" Umbridge's expression hardened. "Miss Granger, this class has been approved by Ministry experts. Are you a Ministry expert?" Hermione retorted, "No, but—" "Then you have no business challenging those who are," Umbridge interrupted coldly. "We will learn about spells in a safe, risk-free environment."

Hermione's frustration bubbled over. "But we've got O.W.L.s coming up! You expect us to do the spells with no practice?" Gray, surprisingly, sided with Umbridge, saying, "You know, I hate to admit it, but she does have a point," much to Hermione's shock. Gray calmly closed his book as Harry joined in, his voice edged with anger. "What good's theory in the real world?" Umbridge's eyes narrowed, snapping back, "This is school, not the real world, Mr. Potter. There is nothing out there waiting to get you." Harry's temper flared. "What about Lord Voldemort?" The class collectively flinched at the name, their fear palpable. Gray frowned, his expression darkening, and said to Harry, "Why are you glorifying him? Don't call that noseless bastard 'Lord.'" Harry sighed but said nothing further.

Umbridge's face darkened. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Gray and Mr. Potter. Let me set the record straight." She leaned heavily on her desk, her knuckles turning white. "Some of you have been told that a certain dead wizard has returned. This is a lie." Her gaze turned to Gray, who looked back at her nonchalantly. "Oh, don't look at me. The Ministry of Magic is just too cowardly to even mention his name. Why would I bother having you guys acknowledge his return?" he said coolly, as murmurs spread across the class. "Another 10 points deducted from Gryffindor," Umbridge snapped, making Gray chuckle. "Why bother with deducting points? You know Dumbledore is just going to reward Longbottom for having the courage to pee at night alone," he said with a smirk, eliciting laughter from the class. "What did I do?" Longbottom asked innocently, as Umbridge massaged the bridge of her nose. "It's a lie," she repeated with exasperation.

Harry shot to his feet, his books tumbling to the ground, his face a mask of livid defiance. "It—is—NOT—a—LIE!" he roared, his voice trembling with fury. Umbridge's mouth tightened into a thin line. "Mr. Potter, you have just landed yourself in detention!" she declared coldly. Harry moved stiffly around his desk, seething with anger, while Gray sat back with a sigh. "Just relax," he said to Harry, "and watch as they try to come up with a solution when he's knocking on their door." Gray then returned to reading his book, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the tension in the room.

The Gryffindor common room buzzed with chatter as Gray was strangely being left alone. This was because he had cast a disguise charm on himself while he sat with Harry, Hermione, and Ron in a corner, trying to ignore the commotion around them. Hermione's voice cut through the noise, filled with frustration. "How can Dumbledore let that horrible woman teach? And when we're taking our OWL tests too!" Ron leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "You reckon she's here to spy on us?" Hermione glanced at him, her expression grim. "Well, not us specifically, but definitely Dumbledore and the Order." Their hushed conversation was interrupted by Angelina Johnson storming over, her face tight with anger. "Well, way to go, Potter. Your detention is at the same time as Quidditch practice!"

Harry looked sheepish, offering a quick, "Oh! Sorry…" Angelina wasn't appeased, her tone sharp. "Yeah, well, you're going to have to get out of it somehow. We're holding tryouts for Keeper now Wood's gone, and I wanted to have the whole team there." Harry shook his head in defeat. "I'll never get out of it, Angelina." She glared at him before turning on her heel. "Well, just… don't do it again!" As she stormed off, Harry sighed heavily, sinking back into his seat. Then they looked at Gray. "Is it me, or is everyone ignoring the great Gray Knight?" Ron asked as Hermione chimed in, "Yeah, it's like they can't even see you—wait, did you do something?" Gray looked up from his book and said, "Yeah, a bit of a disguise charm. It's quite handy; it gives me the peace and quiet I need." He smiled, but it faltered for a moment. "Gosh, how are you this handsome?" Ron asked, to which Gray replied with a smug grin, "It's a gift, Ron," making the two boys roll their eyes.