Harry woke up the next morning with his pillow in his mouth and his throat sore. He frowned hoping he hadn’t woken anyone up. The last thing he needed was giving them something else to talk about him with. He quietly opened the curtains and was shocked to see that his dorm was empty. Dread was in the bottom of his gut as he glanced at the clock. His eyes widened as he took in the time, it was 7:45am and class started at 8:00am and he still didn’t know his schedule. He jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed in his robes before grabbing his backpack.

Making sure he had his wand he quickly made his way towards the great hall. As he neared it he could see Ron and Hermione and he called out to them, hoping that they weren’t ignoring him. He smiled when that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Oy, Harry where have you been?” Ron asked looking at his friend in shock.

“In the dorm, why didn’t you wake me up?” Harry asked curiously.

“Seamus said that you had gone already. I was a bit miffed that you had left without me,” Ron explained.

“He clearly lied; I only just woke up a few minutes ago. Do you know what our schedule is?” Harry asked as ignoring the hunger pains in his stomach. He was used to it, and truth be told he had worse.

“Why would he lie? What the hell is the matter with everyone today?” Ron mused as he looked at the glares that his dorm mates were giving Harry.

“They don’t believe that Voldemort is back. Essentially I’m a liar Ron,” Harry said tiredly as he looked over the schedule and groaned.

“That’s rubbish, how else would you explain Wormtail still being alive?” Ron asked as he shook his head.

Harry shrugged not wanting to talk about it anymore. He needed to keep his cool at the moment and talking about his house turning against him wasn’t helping. Why in the hell did Dumbledore do this every year? He frowned as they started to make their way toward potions with the Slytherins.

The walk to the classroom was shorter than he ever thought it could be and he forced himself to take a deep breath before walking in and taking his seat. They took their usual seats in the middle of the classroom on the Gryffindor side and got their things out. Harry hoped that Snape wouldn’t call him out today, but he knew better. The class got quiet and Harry gripped the desk with his hands as the potions master walked to the front of the classroom.

After giving his yearly speech Harry watched as those dark eyes hone in on him and his heart skipped a beat for the moment preparing for the worse. To his relief and suspicion Snape didn’t say anything, but the glare in his eyes told Harry everything he needed to know. What did Snape think he did now? For Merlin’s sake he hadn’t even been at breakfast. Harry sighed as he got started on his potion. He took caution today, not liking the gaze directed towards him.

 As he was reading over an instruction in the book, he turned towards his cauldron when he heard a splash. He looked inside it in horror before turning to look at Malfoy who was looking at him smugly. Gone was the pale blue potion and in its place was this puke green one. Harry’s eyes widened as he tried to figure out what Malfoy threw it in before Snape came and checked on him again; but he was too late.

“Inadequate Potter, 15 points from Gryffindor,” Snape sneered as he looked in Harry’s cauldron.

“Professor that wasn’t my fault, Malfoy threw something into my cauldron.” Harry said defending himself.

“Oh I forgot Prince Potter, can’t do no wrong. Grow up Potter; you need to learn to take responsibilities for your own actions and stop blaming others. What kind of fool do you take me for?” Severus said sneering at him, daring him to lie.

“I’m telling the truth Professor, if you would just listen to me for once then maybe you would see that Malfoy was to blame for this.” Harry said angrily, shaking off Hermione’s hand on his shoulder. He was just so tired of this.

“Talking back to a Professor, 15 more points from Gryffindor and detention tonight at 7:00pm;” Severus said walking away to berate Neville.

“What, I didn’t even do…” Harry shut up when Ron kicked him and he turned his angry expression to his mate.

“Just don’t Harry, you know it’ll only make it worse.” Hermione said reasonably as she turned back to her potion.

Harry frowned and nodding wanting nothing more than to curse both Malfoy and Snape at that moment; why did they hate him so. What did he do to Snape to make him treat him this way? Harry sighed as he glared at his desk, not doing anything the rest of the period. The minute class was over Harry grabbed his things and headed to his next class. He ignored the looks his so called friends were giving him for losing 30 points in potions. As if they had never been a victim of Snape’s temper.

Classes seemed to pass by slowly for Harry that day, especially when it seemed like the only people who would talk to him were Ron and Hermione and he had noticed that even they were giving him looks. As they walked to the great hall for lunch it was no surprise that it quieted when he came in. Keeping his gaze straight he headed for his chair, ignoring the fact that his so called friends were staying far away from him. He turned to Ron only to find him in a conversation with Dean and Seamus. Harry stared at his friend in disbelief but shook his head.

“Hey Neville,” Harry murmured when he realized the shy boy was across from him.

“Hi Harry,” Neville replied quietly. “My Gran and I, we believe you.” He said quickly before turning to his food.

Harry smiled in spite of his pain, both physical and inner. As he ate his lunch his gaze landed on the head table and he frowned as he recognized everyone but this woman in pink. Was that the new DADA teacher? He raised an eyebrow and turned back to Neville.

“Whose she; that lady in pink?” Harry asked curiously.

“That’s Professor Umbridge; she’s gonna teach DADA. She usually works at the Ministry; didn’t you hear her say this last night?” Neville asked.

“I was too tired last night, thanks though,” Harry replied turning back to his meal.

As lunch finished up, he had to wonder would this woman also try to kill him like the past DADA teachers. They made their way to his favorite class ever and the minute he stepped into the door, he just knew it was gonna be a bad day. As Harry took his seat and waited for class to start he glanced at Ron who had seated himself by Harry. He shrugged but didn’t say anything. Just because his dorm mates were mad at him, didn’t mean that his best friend couldn’t talk to them.

As class started and the toad like lady started talking Harry heart got heavier and heavier. He needed this class more than anyone in the entire school and she was telling them that they weren’t going to be working on any spells. He didn’t understand this; why in the hell would Dumbledore allow her to teach here? He frowned and raised his hand, but Hermione beat him too it.

As he listen to her explain to them that they would have no uses for their wands in here, he could see that he wasn’t the only one with a confused expression on his face. He had stuck his hand up second and now more people had joined in. Why wasn’t she calling on him? Harry frowned having enough of being ignored before just deciding to speak.

“Voldemort is back Professor, I saw him.” Harry said loudly, wishing everyone didn’t cringe away.

“Enough Mr. Potter, you are lying. If he-who-must-not-be-named were back the Minister would know about it.” Delores said gleefully.

“Fudge is an idiot and in denial; besides how else would you explain Cedric’s death?” Harry asked angrily.

“Mr. Diggory’s death was an accident. Before he participated he was aware of the risks to compete in the tournament. I would suggest you cease this talking Mr. Potter. It would do well if you would stop sprouting off all these lies.” Delores said getting angry herself.

“They aren’t lies Professor it’s the truth, Voldemort is back and we need to learn spells to defend ourselves against him.” Harry said voice getting louder. He knew what he saw, and he saw Voldemort being resurrected. He even had the scar to prove it, after all he had used his blood.

“Detention tonight Mr. Potter at 7:00pm and leave my classroom at once.” Delores yelled, smiling evilly as she had a special detention in mind for him.

Harry frowned, two detentions in one day. Well didn’t he feel so special.

“I already have a detention at 7:00pm with Professor Snape,” Harry replied as he grabbed his bag.

“Then you will come to mine first I will let him know to expect you later.” She replied smoothly before gesturing for him to leave the class.

Harry shook his head and walked out the classroom and down the corridor. Not knowing what else to do he headed back towards the tower. He was in a daze as he walked up to his dorm room. This year was already shaping up to be the worse one yet and it was only the first day. Throwing his bag on his bed, his feet walked on their own accord to his trunk. Getting on his knees he looked at the bottom of his trunk, and grabbed his invisibility cloak. Taking the bundle in his hand he walked over to his bed and closed the curtains.

Harry took a deep breath before he started to unwrap the cloak. He just needed to make sure that he had really brought it. The box of bullets dropped out first and he found himself entranced as he opened it and took one out. He knew then that he was right in his decision on bringing the gun here, especially since they weren’t going to be learning any defensive spells this year.

He played with the bullet in-between his fingers before reaching on the bed and picking up the gun. It wasn’t a heavy weight; it fit perfectly in his hand. He wondered what it’d be like to shoot this at someone. 3 people came to mind as he transferred the gun from one hand to the other. Harry was relaxed as he stuck the bullet into the gun and cocked it before looking at it again. He never realized how easily muggles could end their life; almost as if he was having an out of body experience he lifted the gun up to his head.

He could end it right now, and he chuckled wondering if he would survive this. It was better for everyone if he had died that night. Why was his life so full of pain, why did everyone have to hurt him? He shook the conflicting thoughts away as he ran his hands over the gun, wondering what it felt like to be shot. He wasn’t stupid and he knew that it would hurt no matter where you got shot. What he was referring to was; how did it feel to know that you were dying? He pondered on it for a while until something broke him out of the trance and he heard voices in the common room. Harry quickly shoved the gun and the bullets back into his cloak and wrapped it up again and put it back into his trunk.

As he sat back on his bed, he couldn’t help remembering the feeling of the coolness of the gun on his hands. When he had it in his grasp, he had never felt more in control of himself in his entire life then at that moment. Was it really that simple? And if so what did this mean?