Stranger

Walking into the Great hall the next morning was even more difficult than I had bargained for.

Even though there was no rule on having to sit with your House during meals, Snape had “advised” I sit with my new House. But the moment I walked in, they had shot dangerous glares at my direction. They weren’t alone, all the students who were previously enjoying breakfast had now turned to look at me, small murmurs escaping their lips.

With an unwelcoming glance towards my new House, I made the familiar walk to the Gryffindor Table, quietly slumping down next to my brother and Rayne. The other Gryffindors around stared at me with confusion and even disgust. Some of the ones near me had even scooted away.

I groaned, putting my head in my hands. Harry rubbed my back soothingly as I complained. “Harry, why does this happen to me? Why is life so unfair to me?”

He sighed. “I dunno, Rose. How’s the Slytherin House?”

I looked at him, frowning. “Terrible. I want out. No one will stop taunting me and all I get are rude looks and people teasing me. I hate it! The prefects didn’t even give me the password to the common room! Not even a bloody welcome!”

“Blimey,” Ron mumbled. “What did the Sorting Hat tell you?”

I shrugged, slouching as I rested my head on two knuckles. “It said its life weighed on it, it knew I belonged in Gryffindor more than any House.”

“I’m sorry, Rosalie,” Rayne apologized sincerely, lines showing on her flawless pale skin. “But you still owe me an explanation to how you are. I read about it in the Prophet when I went to Diagon Alley but I-“

“Hold on,” Harry interjected. “They’re talking about Rosalie’s depression in the Prophet? But h-how does Rita Skeeter know?”

“Not sure,” Rayne admitted. “I didn’t believe her – but then I saw Rosalie myself. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” I admitted.

Ron snorted.

“I meant depression-wise but that answers enough, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, Rosalie. We’ll find out a way to get you out of Slytherin, and an explanation for all this. They’re despicable, you’re not one of them,” Hermione assured with an encouraging smile.

I gave her a small smile in return. “Thanks, ‘Mione. It means a lot – but there’s no way to get me out.”

“Then you’ll just have to survive the year,” Rayne advised.

I threw my hands in the air helplessly. “Survive? How can I survive when the whole school thinks me and my brother are liars? How can I survive when I’m stuck with the snakes for my last year? I just dealt with depression and God knows I still blessed might be. I won’t make it to Christmas!”

“Talking like that, you won’t,” she mumbled under her breath.

I narrowed my eyes at her. Harry opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by a presence behind us.

“Miss Potter,” Snape’s voice addressed me, making me turn around.

The potions master hadn’t changed at all, as if he ever did. His eyes still seemed lifeless with their dull black color. His greasy, long hair fell down to his shoulders, matching the same black lengthy robe he was always dressed in. His nose resembled a hook, adding a more menacing look to his face.

“Professor,” I acknowledged with an irritated expression.

“I would assume you would be sitting with the Slytherin House since they are your new home,” he drawled, raising a brow. “Or is it not so?”

“You know damn well better than anyone I don’t belong in Slytherin,” I mumbled, taking a sip of pumpkin juice from my goblet. “Plus, I don’t like them, and they don’t like me. It’s only mutual. There’s no rule stopping me from sitting with the Gryffindors.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Just remember where your loyalties lie, Potter.”

With that, he strolled to the Professor’s Table to take a seat. I watched him carefully, but someone caught my eye. I was quickly diverting my attention to the usual place the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher sat. In that place stood a pudgy woman clothed in all pink, slowly nibbling on a salad. Her face resembled that of a squashed toad. Her hair was a brown color, short and in slightly curled locks poking out of her headwear. She seemed to be giggling constantly and interrupting other Professors.

“What was that all a bloody ‘bout,” Ron asked.

“Who’s the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” I interrupted.

Hermione was the one to answer this time. “According to Professor Dumbledore, her name is Dolores Jane Umbridge.”

“She did a speech yesterday about the Ministry’s views on education. Did you not hear it, Rose,” Rayne questioned as I continued eyeing her.

“No. I didn’t, actually. I was too busy sulking. But why would she talk about the Ministry here?”

Harry sighed as I turned back around to face them. “If you hadn’t been moved, you would have heard. She works for the Ministry – she was at my hearing. She was the madam under secretary I mentioned. I don’t understand why she has the position – Hermione thinks this means the Ministry’s going to start interfering at Hogwarts and changing how everything he works.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it,” I murmured.

Hermione sighed. “I guess we just have to wait and see.”



Looking at my timetable, I sighed in relief to see I shared Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors. I made my way to the classroom in a steady pace, ignoring the students whispering things as they passed by me.

I entered the classroom to see the students sitting down and a clock could be heard making a gong sound from all of Hogwarts. I looked towards the Professor who was smiling my direction.

“Miss Potter,” she greeted. Her voice sounded annoying and shrill like a little girl. “You’re late.”

I furrowed my brows. “Um, ma’am, with all due respect, how am I late? The clock just sounded and I’m inside the classroom…”

The new teacher walked forward, swinging her wand in her hands. “Students will be prompt and prepared. By the time that the clock sounds I expect all students to be seated.”

I stared at her quizzically before nodding slowly. I moved to sit with Rayne, who had an empty seat open and was waving me over, but I heard a high-pitched “Ahem.”

I closed my eyes in annoyance and looked up. “Yes, Professor?”

“All students are to sit with their housemates.”

“Since when,” I questioned in almost a snap. The woman narrowed her eyes at me before making a remark. “And you will address me as ‘Professor’ or ‘ma’am’ in my classroom.”

After laughing in a squeal, I made a disgusted scowl and moved to sit with a blonde Slytherin girl. She made a shocked and unwelcoming sneer my way before turning back to the Professor, completely ignoring me. Even from the corner of my eye I could notice her scooting over to the edge of her chair.

With a flick of her wand, a chalk flew and wrote on the board while the teacher spoke up. “My name is Dolores Jane Umbridge. I am madam under secretary in the Ministry of Magic, sent to become your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.”

No one spoke, staring at her with blank faces.

“You all are in your final year at Hogwarts, and have become of age. This means responsibility is expected from each and every one of you, and your education and efforts this year will reflect on your last N.E.W.T scores. These scores determine what profession you will be undertaking in the wizarding world.”

Some people were exchanging glances, still not sure what to think. I looked at the twins, who were turning their head back to glance at me confusingly. I shrugged, waiting for Umbridge to speak up again.

“The Ministry has come up with a new and safe way for young witches and wizards to study and learn magic.”

The woman waved her wand, sending textbooks flying to each student in every desk. Once it reached me, I opened it and began flicking through it. I furrowed my brows as I read the text, scanning through more pages. There were no spell-casting instructions, incantations – a majority of the things I had seen were beginner Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons.

“Where’s the spells in this book,” Fred asked.

“Raise your hand if you wish to speak in my class,” she interjected.

The redheaded twin raised his hand lazily. Umbridge nodded at him, waiting for him to speak. “Where are the spells? This book has nothing about spells or even using magic-“

“Well, why would you ever need to use magic in a classroom?”

“How would we practice defensive spells if we can’t use our wands,” I piped up.

Her head snapped to me, and I could tell she was beginning to grow frustrated. “Kids such as yourself don’t need to know such spells – why would you need them?”

“We’re of age now, and I dunno. Maybe some of us plan to be Aurors, maybe one day we find ourselves in front of peril, we need to teach someone how to protect themse–“

“You are not permitted to speak if you did not raise your hand,” she exclaimed, walking back to the front of the classroom. I glared at the back of her head.

“- maybe some of us have to face Voldemort.”

Everyone broke out mumbling and whispering. My fists were clenched, knuckles turning white as I shot daggers her direction. She wasn’t going to allow people with magical abilities to not use magic – I wouldn’t permit it.

Umbridge released a long sigh, shaking her head. “Tut, tut, tut. Just like your brother. He did the same thing in my class. And I will do the same to this class. I’m going to make this quite clear. Rumors have been said that a certain Dark Lord is at rise again, but I assure you all that this is not true!”

I stood up, slamming my hands on the desk. “How could you say this isn’t true? The evidence is as clear as your lies! Cedric Diggory didn’t just drop dead at his own will, incidents and murders have not been occurring in the Muggle and wizarding world on coincidence, these are all his doing and surely you should know that,” I shouted.

“Miss Potter,” she warned. “Please sit down and be quiet.”

My insides began bubbling. The depressed side of me tried to calm me down but my own angered pit of flames needed to be tended to.

“Yes, sure, I’ll sit down and be quiet right now just like the bloody Ministry is doing,” I spat. I wasn’t sure where this confidence and fire was returning from, but my fury was lashing out without a stop. The saddened part of me was yelling at me to sit down – if I continued I knew I was in trouble. But as the scar on the crook of my neck hidden under my robe prickled and my mind became angered, I found myself still talking. “Just like they are with the dementors. When has the Ministry planned to tell the truth to the Prophet, the truth about the dementors being sent to attack me and my brother in Little Whinging, how my brother was nearly expelled –“

“MISS POTTER, DETENTION,” she yelled, stomping her foot on the ground. Her eyes were darker now as she breathed in and out, trying to calm down. When she finally was able to regain herself and I was staring at her expressionless, she nodded. “Detention tonight, miss Potter. With your brother, in my office.”

I eyed her with hatred before slumping back down in my chair, crossing my arms and ignoring her for the rest of the class. The students seemed stunned and confused by my words, the class didn’t even seem to pay attention to what the toad said.

As I sat waiting for the class to be dismissed, I couldn’t help but allow my consciousness to consume me in disappointed scolding, claiming I was in no right of my mind to be doing such actions. I kept my brows knit together and a hardened expression the whole time, knowing I was right. I knew I would’ve sat down, but it felt as if my feelings were enraged and out of control – as if I couldn’t control them. Her words were the gasoline needed to light the match and start the fire.

As soon as the clock once again sounded, I had stormed out of the classroom in less than a second, stomping away to the new common room. I ignored the calls of Rayne and the twins, allowing myself to be the first one out and alone.