I don't own Harry Potter, and I'll fight to the death to keep this story alive, but I'm starting to earn some battle wounds.
Despite River's warning, Umbridge didn't even try to find a different book for her classes. As a matter of fact she didn't even try to accomplish anything in her classes. The students, besides Harry who would spend his days in Dumbledore's office, would be getting homework done that they had acquired with other teachers. She never noticed them, she was too busy sitting in her chair and counting down the hours in which her plan would take action.
Madam Pince, though for the life of her she couldn't figure out, gave her a long list of adeqate books to use as texts. But Umbridge merely stared at the clock and the calender on her desk
Harry and Dumbledore spent the passing days discussing things that had no real importance. They would discuss the weather, different sweets they both enjoyed and even Quidditch games. Dumbledore was more relaxed around Harry now that he realized that Voldemort wouldn't dare venture into Harry's untainted mind. However, he was ashamed that he had abandoned the poor boy when he needed him the most. Mentally, he promised that he would never let this boy down again.
He was still trying to find out what had happened to his young protégé, but nothing came of it. He knew something had happened in Umbridge's office, but what it was, was a mystery to him. He subtly grilled Harry, asking him what had happened, but the poor boy's memory had been blocked and almost destroyed by the fever, discovering what had happened would take time.
Harry still had to continue using his cane, as he legs were still too weak to support his small weight, so Dumbledore made sure he got down to the Great Hall for dinner alright. He would have to take a few breaks as he made his way to dinner, but Dumbledore would allow the boy to rest as many times as he wanted on the way down. There had been times that they would have to stop and allow Harry to catch his breath.
“This sucks.” said Harry gasping.
“I can imagine, here is some water. Aquamenti!” he said as he filled a golden goblet with crystal clear water.
Suddenly, McGonagall came rushing up to the pair of them.
"Albus! Umbridge brought the Minister and several Ministry officials here!" she looked pale and nervous. She had not been the same since she had found Harry, nearly dying on the staircase. It did not bode good tidings for them if the Minister and the vile woman were both smiling.
"What is it that they want?" said Dumbledore placing a protective arm around Harry's shoulders. He had been fearing for months that they would take Harry into their “protective” custody, and he had been foiling their plans, but if this was the straw that broke the hippogriff's back....
"They said something about Potter's past, bringing the truth to light. What do they mean by that?" said McGonagall, also throwing an arm around the young man's shoulders. Harry kept looking between the two of them. For some reason, since the fever, he was a little slow on the uptake. But talking to Dumbledore about different things, kept building up his mental strength like it used to be.
"I wonder, did you see anything being carried in by the officials? An orb, a mirror, anything? said Dumbledore, eyes slowly taking on even brighter twinkle. "Books?"
McGonagall paused in thought and gasped. "Yes! They were carrying seven books, each one a different color. With silver and gold numbers on each one, one through seven."
"How do you remember that?" said Harry in awe.
Dumbledore smiled down to the youth, the smallest little thing seemed to impress him as of late. "Photographic memory. Her's is slightly more, we shall say, powerful than yours dear boy. As for these books, in the long run we have nothing to fear from them. We know we are telling the absolute truth. It will only strengthen our side."
