Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Phoenix Rising

Chapter Seven-

Monday came all too quickly, and with it, the next round of verbal combat with Umbridge.

"What do you mean we won't be doing any practicals? This is a defence class, isn't it? Shouldn't we actually be learning, you know, defence?" Ron knew that this had already been discussed, but he also knew that he couldn't afford to let this drop.

War was coming if he couldn't stop it, and that meant that he was obligated to make sure that all of the children that surrounded him were ready. If they weren't, if any of them died when he could have done something to stop it, well, he might as well have killed them himself.

Maybe not really, but he couldn't help himself from feeling that way. They were children, and he was an adult in the body of a child. It was his job to look after them all. It was his job to protect them, as best as he could. Hadn't he come back to save as many lives as he could? To save Harry, yes, and to hopefully keep him well and sane, but he'd wanted to save as many of the children as he could, too. Because they'd been the ones to lose the most during the wars.

"We already went over this once, Mr. Weasley. There is nothing for you to defend yourself from, so please, get out your textbook and do the reading I've assigned to you. I wouldn't want to have to give you another detention, after all." She smiled at him, in a way that was clearly meant to be casually menacing.

Ron wasn't impressed. He'd been threatened by some of the best in the future, and honestly, a Blood Quill was nothing compared to the Cruciatus Curse. "I can take as many detentions as you'd like to assign," he said cheerfully.

There was also the thought in the back of his mind that, if he were more annoying than Harry, she might just leave Harry alone. And since Harry was keeping his head down and actually reading his text, that plan might just work. It was good that Harry had taken his advice, too, and was keeping quiet. In the scheme of things, what had happened with Umbridge hadn't been as bad as other things, but surely her torture had helped even a little bit to drive him over the edge.

"If you're certain, then, Mr. Weasley. You'll report to me for detention tonight at seven o'clock, and again for the rest of the week. We'll see if we can't get the message to sink in this time, shall we?" she said.

Ron smiled back at her. She had another thing coming if she thought her Blood Quill would really frighten him.

After class, just before dinner, Harry grabbed his arm and jerked him into the boys bathroom. "We'll be out in a minute!" he called to Hermione and Draco on the other side of the door. "What are you doing?" he asked in a low hiss.

"What do you mean, what am I doing? I can't just let her get away with the things that she's saying, Harry," Ron said, adopting his most innocent look.

Harry stared at him, his eyes burning with anger. "She'll hurt you, Ron. We know this. We served our last detention with her together. You can't… if I'm going to stop baiting her, then you have to as well. I won't let you go through this alone."

His grip on Ron's arm was like a vice, and Ron pulled carefully away. "It's fine, Harry. Besides, maybe if she's focusing on me, she'll leave you alone." He offered Harry a smile, and tried to ignore the way his arm was tingling where Harry had held it.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Harry asked, and his voice broke a bit. "You're my best friend, Ron. It isn't your job…" He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "It isn't your job to suffer in my place."

"Yeah, well, you're my best friend, and if I want to do this, then you can't stop me." He smiled at Harry, and patted him on the shoulder. "Relax, mate. It's just a few detentions. If it bothers you so much, I'll stop baiting her after this. I promise."

"Okay," Harry agreed, reluctantly.

"Great! Now, I can't face her on an empty stomach, and I certainly won't be hungry after detention, so I'm thinking I should probably go ahead and get to dinner, yeah?"

"How you can think of food," Harry began, and then stopped and shook his head. "Right. Dinner." He scrubbed a hand over his face and followed Ron from the bathroom.

"You two okay?" Hermione asked, one eyebrow raising. Draco was leaning against the wall, staring up at something far away.

"We're good. Harry just wanted to talk about something, that's all," Ron said cheerfully. "And now, to dinner. I'm starved!" He headed off towards the Great Hall, his stomach grumbling a bit. It had been a long while since lunch, after all.

"This is the part where things start to get complicated," Draco murmured from just behind him.

Ron froze. "Sorry, what?" he asked. He turned to look at Draco, only to find a vague smile on the other's face.

"Nothing," Draco said, and his smile brightened. "Dinner?"

"Right," Ron said slowly. "Dinner."

ooOOooOOoo

When he arrived back at the defence classroom, Umbridge was waiting outside. She offered him a thin smile and said, "We'll do this one in my office, shall we?"

"Of course, Professor," he said quietly. "Wherever you'd like." He followed her quietly down the hall and into her office.

He raised an eyebrow when the door swung shut behind him. He could feel the sizzle and burn of privacy wards being erected, the sort he hadn't felt in a month or so, and never… no. In fact… one of those wards… no. No, that was ridiculous. Of course it wasn't what he thought it was. ...was it?

"Tea, Mr. Weasley?" she asked, and gestured to the gently steaming tea pot on her desk. "I always love a good night cap before bed. Don't you?"

"No, thank you Professor," Ron said warily. She'd been known to dose students in the past; who knew what she might have put in there? There were any number of potions that it would be absolutely disastrous for him to accidentally ingest, and many of those would do somebody like Umbridge a world of good.

"I haven't potioned it, you know," she said, with a small, polite smile. "But I suppose there's really no proving that, is there? You're certainly right to be wary. In fact, I commend your vigilance. You did, of course, notice the warding, did you not?" She settled in behind her desk and offered him the seat across from it with a benevolent smile.

Ron frowned. What in Merlin's name was the old hag up to? But he sat, because he didn't really have much of a choice. This was shaping up to be one of the oddest detentions he'd ever had. "I did," he said quietly, finally. What was she playing at?

"I admit, I wasn't expecting it to be you. Of all of the people it could have been, that it would be his right hand man… Oh, I'm a very lucky witch, Mr. Weasley." She poured a cup of tea and offered it to him again. "Do go on and check it for potions. We'll be here for quite a while tonight. We've a lot to discuss, after all."

Ron stared down at the cup before him, then looked back up at her. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't know how to check a drink for potions, nor would I think that a representative of the Ministry would potion a student at Hogwarts." He was completely confused. This made no sense. What did Umbridge think she knew about him, to make her so very… hospitable to him?

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Mr. Weasley. You and I both know that you are more than what you seem to be. Magic told me that you would be here." Her smile never faded as she continued with, "She told me that I would have an ally in this endeavor, a valuable friend who could get me into places where I'd never manage on my own. I hadn't realized that she'd meant the Dark Lord's right hand. You, Ron Weasley, are the most valuable ally I could have imagined."

Ron froze. He had his wand out and was pointing it at her before he could even think about his actions. Umbridge. Umbridge was the enemy. But… wait. No. Umbridge wasn't… she was smart, yes, and dangerous, but she wasn't as smart and dangerous as he was. And… Magic had promised her an ally. Which meant that either Magic had lied to her, or Magic had lied to him. Or Magic had told them both the truth, and he had more than one enemy running around.

He took a deep breath and lowered his wand. He offered her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Madame. I wasn't expecting… you see, Magic warned me of an enemy, not an ally. I hadn't expected to find a friend in this." He swirled his wand over his tea because he was expected to, and swirled it over again once he'd added the cream and sugar. There were no potions in his tea, and he took a long sip as a sign of good faith.

Umbridge, for her part, was frowning. "It will be one of the Mudbloods, then, trying to prevent the rise of our Lord. We can't have that. I'll have to begin the proper legislative steps immediately to try and bring them to heel. Did you have any ideas as to who it might be?"

Ron took a deep breath and thought about it. "There are a few people I've been thinking might be an option, though I don't know for sure. Granger, certainly, though she died awfully early on in the original timeline."

Umbridge let out a small laugh. "They all died early on, Ron, you know that. We made sure of it. Or did you think it was an accident that the Muggles found out about us so quickly during the war?" Her smile slid into something more of a smirk as she added, "I heard that Granger was beautiful when she burned."

Ron saw red and had to glance down at his teacup in order to keep the hatred and anger from showing on his face. He forced himself under control and said, "Then I'd think she's our best bet. She was awfully clever for a Mudblood, after all."

"Well. I'll start on the legislation, then, and see what I can do about removing her from Hogwarts. Only the purest should attend, yes?" She smiled sweetly at him.

"Of course, Madame. It's a pleasure working with one who properly understands the way of the world, as it should be." He glanced down at his cup and added, "Perhaps together we can get this timeline on the right track. Maybe a bit faster than the last time?"

"That sounds wonderful, Mr. Weasley." She glanced at her watch, then, and frowned. "I swear, these detentions are getting shorter and shorter with every passing day. Your time is almost up, and if I keep you much later then I'm sure that chit Granger will be suspicious. And we can't have that, can we?"

"No, definitely not. She'd be the first to suspect something even if she isn't our Mudblood." He stood, then, and waited at the door for her to lower her wards. He wouldn't be able to leave with them up, especially if the one was what he thought it was. And honestly, it probably was. The evil cow. It would kill him if he so much as tried to cross the threshold. He had no idea how she could erect that sort of ward in Hogwarts with the Headmaster… Ah. But the Headmaster wasn't around so much these days, was he? That was how. He had no idea.

"Mr. Weasley," she said, even as she crossed the room and began lowering the wards. "Would you happen to know anything about Draco Malfoy's mysterious recovery?"

Ron offered her the most bland, boring smile he had in his repertoire. "I don't, but I can certainly be looking into the matter while you handle the legislative problems."

"An excellent idea. Off you go, then, and I'll see you at the same time tomorrow to continue our discussion."

Ron walked sedately from the room and the door swung shut behind him. He fought the urge to run, knowing that she might still be watching. This just settled things. Umbridge was going to die tonight. He couldn't let her live, knowing what she knew. The results could be disastrous, especially considering the authority she would have over the school before the end of the year.

ooOOooOOoo

Unfortunately, he couldn't make it back to her until much later that night. He had to put in his appearance in the common room, first, and make sure that everybody saw him heading to bed a bit early. Harry and Draco were nowhere to be found, again, but that was only to be expected. They were Soulmates. They needed time to bond; the drive to spend time alone together would be nearly unbearable.

But once he heard everyone else go to bed, Ron crept easily from the dorm, from the common room, and down to Umbridge's office. Her rooms, like the rooms of all the teachers, would be close by. But, as luck would have it, there was still a flicker of torch light coming from under the door to her office. Was she still in there? It was three o'clock in the morning.

Ron pulled on a pair of gloves and opened the door, careful to keep his magic entirely suppressed. It wouldn't do any good to leave magical residue lying around to tie him to the crime. He drew a small blade, one from his potions' kit, and held it ready in his hand. And then he stopped and stared in consternation at the scene before him.

Umbridge was already dead.

More than that, really. She looked like she'd been torn apart by a particularly violent whirlwind. Her office was almost entirely destroyed, and the flickering torch light was actually a small fire on her desk where a candle had tipped over.

Ron shrugged, backed out of the room, and closed the door just as carefully as he'd entered. Maybe, if he had more than one enemy running around out there, he might just have an ally, too. Or maybe she'd been even more vicious this time around and somebody had gotten tired of it.

Either way, he'd have to be careful not to appear at all suspicious when the Aurors came to investigate Umbridge's death. A truth potion could be devastating at this point in the game.