~9~

The Voice was quiet for the most part as Harry returned to school. There were a few interjections here and there but nothing substantial. At least not until they arrived at the Great Hall and scanned the staff table. As with every year there was a new face there, that of a chubby, vaguely amphibious and dumpy looking woman dressed like a toddler obsessed with pink. Harry had no idea who she was even though Ron was telling Hermione that the woman worked at the ministry for Fudge and therefore was not to be trusted. While the two fought over that, the Voice came back with a hissing laugh that reminded Harry of parseltongue.

"Ah, my nemesis. The toad princess that no one will ever, ever kiss just to turn her back to a human form because princes are never as desperate as princesses. The inquisitor with the always sore throat. The one who makes Margaret Thatcher look like a freaking angel. The one the wicked witch of the west would disown.

Dolores fucking Umbridge."

So that was the infamous woman she cursed out so often. "She doesn't look like much," Harry said out loud and got answers inside and outside his head.

Ron scoffed, "She's the one trying to cut down on werewolf rights and goblin rights and all that."

And Hermione who had been lecturing Ron on not judging a person by their (hideous) appearance, stopped short, turning a scrutinising look at the woman.

"She tortures you and a lot of other people using a magical quill that draws your blood out to use as ink in her detentions, questions you under veritaserum which is a highly controlled substance, usurps Dumbledore as headmaster and she also crucios Hedwig to get into one of your letters."

As much as Harry is ashamed to admit it, it is the last part that solidifies the bint as evil in his mind,.

"That bitch." He said vehemently and Ron nodded even as Hermione stared with more than a little bit of anger.

They probably thought he was thinking of Remus.

Harry really should have been thinking of Remus.

Having an omnipotent voice in his head was messing up his priorities.

"And she gets even worse later on. Harry, I firmly believe in people learning from experiences. Umbridge is the experience that really cements your decision to not to go on blindly believing in authority in the magical world. There is probably no other instance where you really recognise how systematically the ministry wields its control over its subjects as that. Part of me wants to let you live through it because witnessing the injustice that is that bitch, will be a formative experience not only for you but also for the school. This is the moment when people learn to think critically and it is really vital because there are many douchebags in school that only recognise their own cruelty when they see it coming from her.

But I also really, really hate that bitch and want her to suffer. Truly, honestly so. My blood is boiling with excitement at the thought of it. My hands are literally trembling with the adrenaline. There are few people I hate as much as her and I don't know what to do."

Harry was flabbergasted. The Voice was asking him what should be done.

Hell, someone in the world was asking him what to do. Not telling, not bossing around, straight up asking.

What did it mean though, that the entire school learnt what politics was, that they learnt critical thinking? What torture did Umbridge put them through to do that?

Did Harry want it? Part of him certainly did, the bit that remembered the entire school whispering that he had gone dark, that he was Slytherin's heir all the way back in second year. He'd like to see Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan learn what 'dark' truly meant.

But how would he know without knowing what she did?

"She made school hell, made DADA hell, didn't let people do magic in her classes, eventually got appointed High Inquisitor and begna dropping by on classes to evaluate the teachers and did so in her shitty biased way, passed decrees banning all sorts of shit, confiscated your broom and shut down the Gryffindor Quidditch team for a solid time at least and used this dark artifact, a Blood Quill in her detentions where you had to write lines with it, mostly you writing 'I will not tell lies' and the ink was your blood, it left a scar on your hand of the words.

She also became headmistress by kicking Dumbledore out and made her own special squad of Slytherins who would snitch on everything and everyone, even when they hadn't done anything. Also, I don't know if I mentioned this but she was the one who sent the dementors to Surrey to Kiss you."

"We need to get rid of her." Harry decided in that very second.

"Awesome, I'll look up revenge fanfics for ideas." The Voice said and Hermione and Ron looked at him, surprised.

"We can't just do that! She's a teacher a-and maybe she's not all that bad?" Hermione said and even Ron looked tentative.

Harry didn't give a fuck.

"You can't do that, it's true."

"Harry!"

"Don't you prefects have duties to attend to?" Harry asked the Hermione and Ron started.

"We're supposed to show the first years where to go!" Hermione all but yelled, and she and Ron ran off, fighting the entire time. They found the bunch of little first years, some of whom gasped as they looked at Harry, scared. Probably purebloods who'd read all about him in the Daily Prophet, or whose parents had been telling them to keep away from Harry, not unlike the adults in Privet Drive.

It might have depressed him another time but the Voice had changed that. Changed him.

He felt more than a bit sorry for them now. They were all just so out of the loop, knowing nothing of what he'd gone through, the dark wizards Hogwarts had been host to. He left Hermione and Ron to their jobs, pausing to asking them the password to the dorm before going up to unpack. Neville had stayed back to talk to Professor Sprout about something and Seamus and Dean had gone ahead of them.

"Heads up, Seamus has been influenced by his mum to totes think you're making Voldemort and all that stuff up, don't lose your temper." The Voice said in a sing song tone and Harry groaned but controlled himself. Deep breath in, deep breath out, just like the book on occlumency had said and up the stairs to their dorm he went.

He was just kind of really glad to be back at Hogwarts though and so he was humming as he walked in. Without paying any mind to Dean and Seamus, he began unpacking.

Harry usually kept his side uncluttered and bare. Apart from his broom handling kit he didn't have much to keep handy anyway, but one of the books he'd read had said that keeping a visual representation of goals helped to focus on them and that having a living space that was calming and cheery helped keep motivation up.

He didn't put up posters or photographs the way Dean and Seamus did. Instead he set up a corkboard with all the notes he'd made over summer stuck to them along with their schedule. He put up the checklist he'd made of all the things he wanted to accomplish while in school that year, up next to it.

"Hey, Harry," Dean finally said, carefully avoiding looking at him while Seamus stared at him creepily. "Good holiday?"

"Wasn't that bad. Got some studying done." A thought occurred to Harry and he turned to Dean, excited, "You live in the muggle world too right? Do you know if there's any way to make a walkman work in Hogwarts?"

"Nah, mate." Dean said with a grin. "Maybe ask Hermione?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer when Neville burst into the room, huffing and puffing. "Ask Hermione what?" Neville asked between gasps.

"How to make a walkman work in Hogwarts." At Neville's questioning look, Harry replied. "It's a muggle device that plays music. I got used to running with it."

For the last week Harry was there, Dudley had made some effort into talking to him, especially since the dementor attack and they had taken to running in the morning to get out of the house and talk about magic near the overpass. For all that Dudley was curious, Vernon and Petunia weren't as gung ho about magic as him.

"Sounds like you had a good summer." Neville beamed.

"Better than Seamus's anyway," Dean chuckled.

"Why, what happened, Seamus," Neville asked and Seamus turned away suddenly from where he was staring at Harry to pretend to fix his posters.

"Me mam didn't want me to come back." He mumbled.

The Voice started talking at the same time as Neville asked Seamus why, "Seriously dude, don't lose your temper, originally you wind up insulting his mum which is really not the best way to go about convincing him otherwise."

Harry rolled his eyes, wondering why everyone expected him to fly off the handle. Well, alright, he understood why everyone else did, but the Voice really should have known better, She knew how the Occlumency was calming him down and how her telling him things was keeping him from going completely mad.

Then again, he remembered the whole shouty conversation he'd had with her on the train. So maybe she wasn't completely wrong in telling him to chill out.

"Well," Seamus said with nervous looks at Harry, "It's not just you...It's Dumbledore too…"

"Weird though." Harry said, "I mean I'd understand her wanting you back home second year with the basilisk and people getting petrified, or even third year with the dementors and stuff. Or even last year with fake-Moody throwing around Unforgivables and turning students into ferrets. Or first year with the troll running about. Huh. But I guess she believes the Daily Prophet. I mean sure Malfoy's dad is good friends with the publisher and the minister but I'm sure that doesn't mean anything." Harry patted Seamus's back patronisingly even as the boy went pale.

Once he was on his bed with the curtains and silencing spells up, Harry sniggered. This whole knowing more than everyone else thing was kind of fun.

A/N: Long time no see. I have every intention to update all my stories though it'll just take time.