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iv. Thea has 'Butterflies'
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WHEN THEA IS dragged into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom by Dean that afternoon, she sits down near the back. She's about to panic when she notices Harry walk in moments later, his hand on the chair next to hers. Dean smiles at her reassuringly, before turning to Harry.

"Sorry mate. Need to talk to T about something."

Thea feels awful. She smiles weakly at Harry, who nods once, before taking a seat next to Ron.

The seat under her is cold and the overly sweet decorations peering down at her from the walls seem to watch her. They burn little holes into her skin and her heart will not stop racing, no matter how much slow breathing she does. Thea can't stop the words of her mother's letter that was delivered at lunch pulsing around her mind, warning her to stay away from Harry. Warning her that if she does anything else to go against Umbridge, she will take her out of school. Warning her of the psychological phenomenon that if you tell yourself something enough times, you start to believe it.

Umbridge has been sitting at her desk since the class entered, still in the awful pink cardigan that Thea thinks should be shredded for the good of everyone with eyes. Her gaze lingers on Thea for a moment, making it plain to her that sitting at the back won't hide her; that there is nowhere to hide from Umbridge. She looks at her desk, her heart thundering, and her flames flickering in her chest.

"Well, good afternoon!"

Thea's newly instilled fear of the woman forces her into the apathetic chorus with a few others around her, "Good afternoon."

"Now that won't do, will it?" Umbridge tuts patronisingly.

Thea thinks her mother must be insane for willingly spending a single minute with this woman.

"I should like you, please, to reply, "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge". One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," everyone drones.

"There, now. That wasn't too difficult, was it?"

Shivers flicker down her spine, and they're the horrible kind, the cold kind that war brings.

"Wands away, and quills out, please,"

Thea huffs to herself quietly, reaching into her bag to retrieve her quill and ink and to put her wand away.

Umbridge then starts to tap the board with her wand, and the following words appear.

Defence Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

Thea mentally rolls her eyes.

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?"

Thea's hands clench into fists. The only one she ever really learned off is Professor Lupin. The other three should have been in Azkaban, not teaching kids in school. Umbridge seems to be taking after Quirrell, Lockhart and 'Moody'.

"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 being rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

Thea dips her quill into her ink, preparing to write, wondering where on earth Dumbledore finds these moron teachers. Is this some kind of joke to him?

"Now, you should all turn to page five of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard, and start to read through 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

Thea begins to read, a fog of boredom and tiredness clouding her brain. It seems like nobody is even daring to breathe, focusing on reading Chapter One, Basics for Beginners, when they are, in fact, not beginners.

Eventually, she finishes the dreadful chapter, turning her head to look around the room. She sees Harry is still reading, but he seems to be irritated. She can tell by the slight frown on his face and the red tint of his cheeks. Ron next to him has his head resting on his arm. Draco Malfoy and Eden Hedge are whispering about something. Thea frowns. Jude Strenegal is staring at her. When she makes eye contact, he smiles at her. For the second time today. Thea is surprised her neck doesn't snap from how fast she turns back around.

He's weird, she thinks.

Then she looks to her right and sees Hermione's arm is waving in the air, which Umbridge is purposefully ignoring, reminding Thea of an immature child. It takes no longer than five minutes before Hermione's stubborn arm starts to annoy Umbridge.

The teacher turns to Hermione and says, "Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

"Not about the chapter, no," Hermione replies.

Thea starts to twirl her hair around her finger nervously. She can feel the annoyance radiating from Umbridge. It starts to make her feel nauseous.

"Well, we're reading just now. If you have any other queries, we can deal with them at the end of class." She replies sweetly.

"I've got a query about your course aims," Hermione says anyway.

The entire class is watching the interaction, and Thea's sure it's about to go down as well as it would sticking a fork in a plug socket. She wants to leave the room again.

"And your name is?" Umbridge says, a little icily now. Thea is sure nobody else picks up on the change in tone, including Hermione. Thea only notices it because of the conversations she'd had with Umbridge during the summer.

"Hermione Granger," the girl replies, completely unfazed.

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

"Well I don't," Hermione says, a little too sharply. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

Thea feels it. She feels the ignorance of Umbridge and the Ministry and people like her mother in her bones. It hurts. They are going to get everybody hurt. She knows exactly why there's nothing about using defensive spells in Umbridge's stupid Ministry-approved course. So they can't use them to build an army.

"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?" Umbridge laughs.

Thea shivers again. But this time, it is a shiver of anger that's finding itself at home in her stomach and her voice box and her heart. How could anybody be so ignorant?

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

Thea really does like Ron. She wishes she could be brave today, but there's a vice around her throat. If she speaks, she can't come to school anymore. She won't see her friends anymore. She can't help Harry at all.

"Students are to raise their hand when they wish to speak in my class, Mr – "

"Weasley," Ron says, his hand flinging into the air and almost knocking Harry's glasses off his face.

Hermione's hand shoots into the air again.

Thea feels her hands start to tremble and her heart start to race more. She glances at Dean, who shakes his head, as if to say, don't risk it, but her throat is so dry, her body is so frozen, that she doesn't believe she'd able to speak even if she wanted to.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?" Umbridge says, looking at the girl.

"Yes. Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?" Hermione shoots Thea a look at this last part. Thea's taken aback, but she guesses that after her little show at the weekend, Hermione's surprised that Thea isn't joining in.

She decides she'll explain to her, Harry and Ron about her mother's letter later on. She doesn't want them to get the wrong message. It's not that she doesn't want to help them, it's that she can't say anything, not anymore. At least, not to Umbridge. Her mother would lose her job, Thea wouldn't be allowed to go to school, and then they'd be screwed. As much as her mother is hurting her right now, Thea doesn't want to betray her. She's sure it'd break her mother's heart.

"Are you a Ministry-trained, educational expert, Miss Granger?" Umbridge smiles, almost knowing she has won.

The word 'Ministry' barely sounds like a word anymore to Thea, she's heard it that much.

"No, but –"

"Well then, 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 programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way –"

Cleverer, my arse, Thea thinks to herself.

"What use is that?" Harry finally pipes up.

Thea thinks it's a miracle he listened to this crap silently for as long as he did.

"If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a –"

"Hand, Mr Potter!" Umbridge exclaims.

She then turns her back on him, clearly to just annoy him as much as possible. Others start to raise their hands in the class, including Dean.

"And your name is?" Thea hears Umbridge say.

"Dean Thomas."

Thea grins to herself. I love you, my best friend, she thinks. It seems like their talk worked; he believes Harry and is still friends with Seamus.

"Well, Mr Thomas?"

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

"I repeat; do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

Thea thinks to herself, well I wouldn't be bloody surprised. You are completely terrifying.

"No, but –"

Then, Thea wants to faint. Umbridge looks squarely at her, then Harry, and says, "I understand that there are some poisonous individuals in this year group that are affecting everyone else. Rest assured –"

"Harry and Thea aren't poisonous!" Dean exclaims, "They're telling the truth –"

He's interrupted by Umbridge, and Thea can feel the rage boil in her body again. " – they will be dealt with accordingly. As I was saying, I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed – not to mention extremely dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Professor Lupin, he was the best we ever –"

"Hand, Mr Thomas!"

Dean looks at Thea, his eyes wild with fury. She gives him a little smile, as if to say, at least you tried, and he turns back to the front.

"...you have all been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day – "

"No, we haven't! We just –"

"Your hand isn't up, Miss Granger!"

The more this continues, the more Thea's heart burns with the need to join her house mates, her friends, but she can't risk her mother being put in danger. She can't risk being pulled out of school. Even the thought sends nasty flames burning up her insides. Despite knowing she is protecting the woman who lives to keep her safe, she still feels too much like the silent Slytherins at the back. Not brave. Sly, self-preserving, selfish...

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

Umbridge's head turns to Thea. "Surely, Miss Cindercroft, you would agree with myself and your mother that this is unnecessary for your exams?"

She feels her face turn beet red, but before she spits out an answer, Dean exclaims, "Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he? Mind you, we still learned loads."

Thea's heart swells, both in a good way and a bad way.

"Your hand is not up, Mr Thomas!" Umbridge almost screeches again. Thea's just glad the attention is off her again.

"Now, as I said before, it is the point of 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!"

"Yeah, it might be enough to pass a stupid exam, but what good's theory going to be in the real world?" Harry protests again, his hand shooting in the air almost mockingly.

Umbridge's voice is quiet. "This is school, Mr Potter. Not the real world."

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?" Harry is seething, Thea can tell. His voice is shaking.

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

"Oh yeah?" he retorts.

He reminds Thea of herself and Umbridge reminds her of her mother. This conversation is a mirror of multiple that had been had in their house over the summer.

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" Umbridge asks Harry, smiling sweetly still. Thea wonders incredulously how that smile hasn't been cursed out of her yet.

"Let's think..." Harry says, pausing for effect.

Don't say it. Thea thinks. Don't say it, Harry!

"Maybe...Lord Voldemort?"

Stupid! Thea thinks, her heart jolting and her ears ringing when Lavender Brown lets out a little shriek. Even Ron is shocked. It looks to Thea like Neville has fainted.

How can the Ministry be so stupid? The war is breathing down their necks!

Umbridge is so still that Thea feels the shivers return. They crackle along her skin this time, trying to force her out of her seat to no avail. She has to know what's about to happen, and she doesn't think her mother would appreciate her storming out of her first lesson of the year with Umbridge.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter."

Everybody is completely still. Thea isn't taking her eyes off Harry, willing him to stop, even though he's right. She doesn't want him to get in any more trouble; she just wants all this to stop. Maybe it's because she's as useless as the Slytherins whilst the real Gryffindors are making their opinions known. She can see now that Umbridge and the Ministry are so blinded by fear that they will never believe that Voldemort is back unless they see him.

If you tell yourself something enough, you start to believe it.

They have to fight back against the ignorance. Only, she can't.

She imagines the Ministry. She imagines Cornelius Fudge. She pictures her mother. She pictures the conference that would've taken place in July this year.

"He's not back!"

"It's preposterous!"

"But why would Harry lie?"

"What if he is back?"

"No matter what, we cannot publish that he is! It's too dangerous, there'll be a mass panic!"

"It's best to convince everyone it's not happening."

She can hear her mother's voice, smooth and light, making itself known.

"There's a psychological phenomenon that if you tell yourself something enough times, you start to believe it; I think we ought to rely on that. He can't be back; it's impossible, he died years ago! If we tell everyone this as much as possible, it'll all blow over by the end of this year. He can't stay hidden forever, and when he never shows, everyone will just think Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore ought to be in St. Mungo's, poor souls! You-Know-Who is not back!"

She slips back to the lesson she's in when she hears Harry shouting.

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

"Detention, Mr Potter!" Umbridge exclaims, still somehow keeping her cool. "You can join Miss Cindercroft this evening, five o'clock. My office."

Thea is so unnerved she can't think properly. This is all a mess.

"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."

So I can brainwash you to be as stupid as me, Thea thinks bitterly to herself.

"...I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners'."

As Umbridge sits down at her desk, Harry gets to his feet. Thea's eyes widen.

There isn't a single pair of eyes in the room that isn't fixed on Harry. She hears Hermione whisper something to him, her voice sewn with panic. Hermione is just as scared as Thea.

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?"

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

Umbridge's façade has melted completely. Her face is red with fury, much like Harry's.

"It was murder! Voldemort killed him, and you know it!" Harry snaps, his tone cutting like a knife through the air.

Umbridge pauses again, as though to contain herself. Her voice returns to the sugary, girly style it had when she interrupted Dumbledore at the Start of Term Feast. "Come here, Mr Potter, dear."

Thea is startled when Harry kicks his chair and storms up to the front desk. Nobody else moves a muscle. The only noise that can be heard is the intake of air, which seems suddenly sparse. Thea almost can't breathe anymore, watching as Umbridge scrawls a note and hands it to Harry, "Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear."

Harry storms out, the door slamming so loudly her heart almost mimics its bang.

Still, nobody moves. Thea swallows hard, her eyes meeting Ron's, whose are wide and brimming with disbelief.

"Silly boy! I repeat; there is no such Dark wizard out to hurt any of you, Mr Potter included." Umbridge giggles. "Please all continue to read Chapter One, Basics for Beginners. I must stress, there will be absolutely no need to talk!"

When they're finally dismissed, Thea almost runs out of the classroom, not even waiting for Dean. She knows that he'll understand that she needs to be alone, with the raging flames burning at her heart. She has to face this, head on. She has to face that she cares about Harry, on her own. She's almost at the courtyard to get some fresh air, when a voice calls her name.

"Thea! Wait!"

She turns around to see Hermione and Ron running after her, and stops.

"Are you both alright?"

"Well –" Ron begins.

" – we just don't understand why you left us to fight Umbridge on our own!" Hermione interrupts, staring Thea down.

Ron interrupts, "Correction, Hermione doesn't understand it."

Hermione shoots him a glare, and Thea raises her eyebrows, feeling like she's been punched in the gut.

"I – I'm sorry, it's complicated."

Hermione narrows her eyes. "Thea – "

Thea turns on her heel and walks off as fast as possible, making her way back to her dorm room and thanking God that she doesn't bump into Harry. Her heart is thumping wildly against her chest, and she can't shake the feeling that she's disappointing everyone around her.