I am being far too lazy with this series .-.

SpartenN-916 - "Yes! Yes! I do need a plan! Yes!" is exactly what I said when I read your review and thanks.

Victor John Foxfire - Okay, I will do my best to keep it at it's best! Thanks for the criticism. (Grammarly, you better ensure there are as few errors as possible!)

connormayor50 - Thanks!

Okay, so now I have a basic plan for Chapter 4 and a start for Chapter 5, I wound up at writer's block, but I manage to get through it, FNAF is Scott Cawthon's, Harry Potter is JK Rowling's, I do not own the idea of Harry being Springtrap, constructive criticism appreciated, I'm adding some theories about HP, in here from here and forward as I did the same with FNAF in this Fanfic, so let's begin!

P.S. The Schedule I'll be using is from the question from Reddit: Does anyone know how the class schedule worked out? by Roy Kennicot. Also, this story will mostly follow the canon story, but with the addition of my fantasies, I choose to add.

Key:

(In story Author's Notes, or A/Ns)

'Thoughts,' or in some cases, 'Thoughts,'

Chapter 4

The First, Ever Planned Out Chapter By TheDivineDoggo

Springtrap was still trying to figure out what elective subjects to do, Shadow had already chosen the Study of Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. He had also chosen Care of Magical Creatures figuring that it might be good to understand the creatures of this world, as they had learned to identify what animals and insects could wind up inside Freddy Fazbear's Pizza just in case any of them were dangerous. After all, they wouldn't want the kids getting poisoned, or bitten.

"Sprinkles," Shadow said in a sing-song voice, "you've been thinking of your second subject for what feels like 15 minutes like just choose what would be the best option for you and then move on."

"I suppose that's true," he replied, not liking that nickname, 'BB why?'

He continued on, "Well to start off, these wizards still use quills when we have pens and pencils, and there's other stuff they're outdated on, so, maybe Muggle Studies won't be that reliable likely, I'm not the type of person who likes to work with numbers and think it's rather nonsense to predict the future, I mean, even if you were right you may be living in fear.

"That leaves Study of Ancient Runes, I suppose, but I'm also curious over what these wizards know about muggles. Then again, would the Study of Ancient Runes be that useful, it isn't like we're gonna get a career in this world, we already have on technically. Muggle Studies, may just be the best opportunity to see how much these guys really know, so yeah, I'll go with Muggle Studies," he decided.

+)* Linebreak *(+

Shadow and Springtrap were being escorted to Potions as Snape had managed to somehow make time from 9:00 to 10:30 to teach them potions to catch up to their peers.

The classroom was in the dungeons, it was colder here, around the walls were glass jars and animals inside them, probably dead, hopefully. There was also a blackboard and enough space for, maybe 20 students. Snape went to the blackboard as the two sat in chairs.

Snape had begun to look that them to speak, Springtrap had come across Hagrid at some point, black eyes and black hair, known as a half-giant, although Hagrid's eyes had a hint of kindness and warmth, Snape didn't have that, his eyes instead hinted coldness.

"Now, you are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he said introducing the subject of potions. He seemed to command authority when it came to speaking to the class, and required no effort at all, just like how Puppet commanded authority in the crew which lasted until Springtrap grew up to the age of 12. "As there is little foolish wand-waving, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the soft shimmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper to death ― if you aren't like the big bunch of dunderheads I usually have to teach."

Shadow shifted to the edge of her seat, anxious clearly. She was always one of the smart one, but always did more than a double check. Whenever she believed was appropriate, she'd come from the shadows into the security guards office, the animatronic form, of course, using her magic to knock out the nightguard. She almost never, ever did this, however, it was useful and powerful, she didn't consider it 'playing fair' however, plus she wanted to make sure if she did get the opportunity, she ensured she was guaranteed to get the night guard knocked out. She only did this whenever she was suspicious that the night guard was more of a threat than the normal human, or when she was suspicious that the night guard was suspicious the animatronics were more than robots made to entertain kids and due to some error or glitch in the system they unintentionally killed the nightguards at night.

Snape took out his wand and tapped it on the blackboard, and instructions appeared on the board.

"Now, I wish that you two rookies read the instructions and work together on the cure for boils seen as you are beginners, especially you Mister Potter," Snape drawled, especially while lacing the surname 'Potter' with acidity.

As much as he wanted to snark at Snape for using his ex-surname, he knew full on well, that stressing out over that would only worsen his chance of catching up with his peers, and did his best to ignore that.

How did potions go? Surprisingly good, nearly perfect in fact, though Snape did try to get him in trouble for that tiny mistake, it overall, was good, though he was somewhat suspicious about why Snape seemed to have targeted him in particular, almost as if he had a grudge against him, why though?

+)* Linebreak *(+

11:30 to 1:00 was Charms and Transfiguration, 45 of those minutes spent on Charms, and the remaining 45 spent on Transfiguration. In Transfiguration, they had to spend 25 minutes on transfiguring a match to a needle, and the rest of the 20 minutes with the switching spell. As for Charms, they had to attempt the Levitating Charm, something Shadow Bonnie, and Shadow Freddy could do something similar to using their magic that associates with the shadows, but they had to use, the Wizarding World's magic, not theirs.

The second spell was the wand lighting charm, it wasn't exactly hard, honestly, heck the spells they were doing was, "taking them quite much faster than most students to successfully do." but the spells did take some time to manage. He did have to wonder, how did doing something like make the tip of your wand light up take a while to do and was not simple? Like, it defied logic, but it's magic, you'd think it would be this easy if you could disappear with it, or do it wandless, maybe he was overestimating these wizards and witches.

They had gotten, a lot, of homework and assignments, however, and he meant A LOT.

Umbridge said they could have their first DADA lesson with those in their year, so, at least they'd be with their other peers.

+)* Linebreak *(+

(A lot of what you shall read is almost exactly like how it is in the book, just so you know.)

He, Shadow Bonnie, some other Slytherins, as well as a few Gryffindors were on their way to the Defense Against The Dark classroom, as they entered, they found the Umbridge woman in her seat at the teacher's desk, the same, pink cardigan, as well as a red velvet bow. Springtrap just wanted to vomit, he just had the feeling.

"Well good afternoon!" She said for once when the whole class sat down.

Very few mumbled a "good afternoon." What is this? Is this a Kindergarten full of 5-year-olds?

"Tut tut," said Umbridge. "That won't do it, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon class."

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," practically everyone said mindlessly to her, including Springtrap.

"There now," said Umbridge sweetly. "That, wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away, quills out, please."

Wait, what? No wands, but quills? Why? Most of the class exchanged cheerless glances, this wasn't gonna be a fun class. That was, of course, evident from the faces. Spring trap put his wand in his bag and got out his parchment, ink, and quill. Umbridge had opened her bag, and got a wand short compared to most wands he saw, she sharply tapped the board; words began to appear on the board:

Defense Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

"Well now, the teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Umbridge, turning to face the class, with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of who seemed to have not followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in you being far below the standard we would expect to see in you O.W.L. year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic these years. Copy down the following please."

Once more, Umbridge rapped the blackboard; The message vanished and was replaced by:

Course aims

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

For some minutes, only the sound of quills scratching the parchment could be heard. Once everyone had copied down the course aims, she spoke again, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

A dull murmur was brought throughout the class.

"I think we'll try that again," said the obnoxious creature that was known as Umbridge (Humans are classified as animals, Springtrap didn't see why it'd be different for wizards and witches). "When I ask a question, I should like you to reply, 'Yes Professor Umbridge', or 'No Professor Umbridge'. So: has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.

"Good," said Ms. I'm-An-Overly-Pink-Witch. "I should like you to turn to page five and read, chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Springtrap just moved his eyes through every word, only slightly paying attention to what the book said, there were advantages in theory, but he mostly wanted to do the actual spells, so hopefully, they'd get through this soon.

Out of boredom, he looked around, a red-headed boy who the Slytherin's described as Ron, was turning his quill over and over in his fingers. The bushy-brown haired girl, who was named Hermione, hadn't even opened her book, but was focused on the woman-who's-inner-beauty-could-challenge-purple-guy's and was keeping her hand raised. Considering most said she was the brightest witch of her age and craved knowledge, this was unusual (At least Springtrap thought it was).

Minutes passed and students found it more interesting to watch Hermione's mute attempt to catch Umbridge's, it had been long and more than half of the class was watching Hermione. Umbridge decided to finally stop ignoring Hermione.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter dear?" she asked Hermione as if she only noticed her then.

"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.

"Well we're just reading now," said the pink clothed creature, showing her pointed teeth, thankfully not nearly as sharp as Mangle's. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.

The woman in question raised her eyebrow.

"And your name is ―?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," this was said in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three-course aims still written on the blackboard.

"Using defensive spells," the pink clothed one repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

What?

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron ejaculated loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class Mr. ―?"

"Weasley," Ron said thrusting his hand into the air. The Umbitch, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Neville, (again, information about him and his name were from the fellow Slytherin's) and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. The toad's pouchy eyes lingered on Neville for a moment, before addressing Hermione. ('I think for the sake of people reading this fanfic that don't like swear word I'll try to limit my use of them,' Springtrap thought.)

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice using defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert Ms. Granger?" Asked the toad in her falsely sweet voice.

"No, but ―"

"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class. Wizards much older and cleverer than you ―"

'Much older, yet stupider than you is what I think you mean,' is what Sprintrap thought and wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut.

"― have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way ―"

"What is the use of that?" Springtrap said loudly, losing his temper."If anyone of us were to be attacked it won't be in ―"

"Hand, Mr. Potter!" Sang the Toad.

He thrust his hand in the air as he gritted his teeth, however, the creature worse than a toad ignored him and turned away from him. More students had their hands in the air now.

"And your name is?" The toad said to a Gryffindor with black hair and brown eyes.

"Dean Thomas," said the Gryffindor he now knew as Dean.

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Dean. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a risk-free ―"

"I repeat," said that horrible thing that must've looked like a toad by a miracle, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, "do you expect to be attacked during any of my classes?"

"No, but ―"

The toad talked over him.

"I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed ― not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

That is what got Springtrap to nearly snap, ever since death, he grew to become someone that was impatient, short-tempered, someone who preferred to put those he disliked in place, and someone who sucked at attempting to describe their personality right now. Back to the point though, he nearly snapped.

Nearly. Dean had been first to reply.

"If you mean Professor Lupin," piped up Dean Thomas angrily, "he was the best ever ―" (Professor right? Dean you are my spirit animal.)

"Hand, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying― you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate for your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day ―"

"No we haven't," Hermione Granger said, "we just ―"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"

Hermione put up her hand; That toad turned away from her.

"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you ―"

'WHAT?!'

"Well he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" said Dean Thomas hotly. "Mind you we still learned loads ―"

"Your hand is not up Mr. Thomas!" thrilled the toad. "Now it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?" she added, staring at a Gryffindor with dark eyes and dark hair, whose hand just shot up.

At this moment, Springtrap had to use a lot of will power to not slam the desk and rant at the idiotic toad, because a school wasn't just about succeeding test! Anything more said and he would likely snap.

"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under the carefully performed examination conditions," said the toad dismissively.

"Without practicing them before?" Said Parvati Patil. incredulously. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough ―"

At this point he snapped, he was sick of this woman, he stood up from his chair, slammed his palm on his desk, set his other hand in the air, and loudly said "and tell me right now, 'Professor Umbridge', what good is a theory in the real world?" he spat out the title and name 'Professor Umbridge' with scorn.

The disgrace to all toads and frogs worldwide came to look up at him.

"This is a school Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly in a way that made him want to strangle her and stuff her in a suit in his animatronic form (Call him over dramatic but he couldn't handle this little shit that was supposed to teach this school how to defend themselves against magic but was doing the exact opposite. She wasn't gonna teach them a single sprinkle of defensive magic!)

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's going to be out there in the real world, a world full of thousands, if not millions, if not billions, I repeat, billions(!), of muggles! Are we not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?" he said in a way it could almost be considered shouting.

He looked around the corner of his eye to notice that some of his housemates he manage to catch sight of seemed quite surprised at what he just said, even that "Professor" too.

"There is nothing waiting out there Mr. Potter."

He took a breath of air, and replied, "First, I would highly appreciate it if you called me Springtrap Emily, I no longer go by Harry Potter, and it seems rather pointless to be famous for something I cannot even remember. Second, I right here, am living proof that there are many things out there in the muggle world, perhaps in the magical world too. If there was nothing out there for us, then this world doesn't really have a point to exist, now does it. What would be the point of existing if nothing was out there for us?"

That disgrace of toads was silent for some seconds.

"Potentially no point whatsoever!" he answered, "We all have a purpose in this world, a purpose to exist, and there will always be something out there we know nothing off. There are several things out there in the real world, magical or not. There are struggles, and achievements out there for us to discover. There is something out there for every, single, one of us. It is up to us to decide whether we find that something, or make nothing of our abilities!" He was very angry, it calmed him down getting a chunk of his anger out there, but he still had the urge to shift into an animatronic, strangle the woman "teaching" this class, and stuff her into a Freddy Fazbear suit.

"I appreciate your speech, but, what struggles? I mean, who would possibly want to harm children like yourselves?"

"WHO?!" That outburst was not from Springtrap but from the one known as the calmest one of the Fazbear crew. This was much of a surprise for Springtrap, and it also would be much of a surprise for the other. She must've been very mad, if not, pissed at the One-Who-Wore-Too-Much-Pink.

"Oh you daughter of ―," she paused, wait, did she almost swear? This would be a real shocker for the young ones if they found out about this, "moron! I can name two people that wouldn't even care, if not be happy to kill young kids! This Voldemort―"

What seemed like the whole class flinched at the mention of his name.

"―which last time I check, there is no proof whether he is dead, therefore he can be very much alive, but there is also no proof he is alive, so we cannot assume either, yet both are a possibility. Not to mention the fact that before The First Wizarding war, around a thousand students enrolled Hogwarts, but ever since that ended, only like, about 300 students enroll Hogwarts a year now! Do you not realize how much people that guy must've gotten killed?

"Now the second dude I said I could name, we are unaware of this person's name, but we do know the crimes he has committed, all we know is that he works at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, but if I am correct, he killed fourteen children, FOURTEEN CHILDREN! Two other kids died in the locations of Freddy's, but this was not his doing. This man ruined several childhoods, and broke far more hearts! That monster even liked to kill them, if Voldemort never existed, I might've called him the most heartless person to live in this world! If you choose to not take this seriously, I will make sure you do, this applies to every single one of you!" She said all of this in a way that made everyone, even the One-Who-Wore-Too-Much-Pink stare at her.

It took quite a moment for all toads disgrace to recollect herself, but once she did, she replied with a revolting smile, "I appreciate your concerns, but that's the past now, and I can assure you that the other person won't be able to hurt you. Besides, you don't need to worry about the muggles, nobody would want to hurt children like you these days. Oh and please don't make up stories to scare others." This woman, crossed. The. Line, especially with Springtrap.

"WHAT?!" he replied at that idiot, "WHAT?! You call the fact a guy, who hasn't been caught, and killed 14, 14 CHILDREN, a make-believe story?! I can assure you, as well as perhaps somewhere close too 30 people, that this killer is not a fantasy, and is very real! You can literally go to muggle newspapers, an see that this guy is very real! Plus you've never made an actual investigation weather Voldemort was actually alive or dead, did you?"

"Mr. P- Emily, I know you'd like us to believe you, but you need to know when to stop making people believe your fantasies, besides, it has been stated all summer that Voldemort is dead and the fact he is alive is a mere fib made by Neville to seek attention, I'd figure you'd know that if you've read the Daily Prophet."

"You, what?" dread was very well in the air, Springtrap was giving the defamation of a toad a death stare, and so was Shadow.

"In case you didn't hear me last time, the idea that Voldemort is alive is nothing but a lie made by Neville for attention that we have been debunking for the whole summer," she replied.

"What do you mean by 'debunking' exactly?" As if on cue, from the shadows, flew out papers rolled together and would've hit Springtrap on the head if he hadn't noticed in time, which he did and caught it in midair.

'When the hell did those kids have this, and why?' (Plot convenience).

He proceeded to read the papers, with each paper he read, the more furious he got, and that was evident by his face very well, although he rolled the papers back together looking calm-

"YOU ATTACKED A SCHOLAR FOR 2 WHOLE MONTHS BECAUSE YOU MINISTRY PEOPLE DENY THAT MERE THOUGHT THAT VOLDEMORT COULD BE ALIVE?!" he practically roared that the "teacher."

"All you needed to say is something like, 'distressed student believes Voldemort was resurrected but we can assure you he isn't real, he will be calmed down, there is no need for panic,' for one day, one, motherfucking day, but noooo. You guys just had, you just had to go as low as possible and attack a minor for 2 BLOODY WHOLE MONTHS JUST TO DENY THE RESSURECTION OF THAT ABOMINATION VOLDEMORT!" he took a breath for a second, "Umbitch."

This time he was staring at that "teacher" head on. Everyone had reacted quickly as soon as he called the woman Umbitch, some had their hands over their mouth, some gasped, some could only stare in shock. They all had something in common though, they refused to speak, and their eyes were wide in shock, he was betting that was the same for Shadow.

Umbridge's mouth was in a small 'o' and eyes wide in shock, but she soon said, "come here for a second Mr. Emily."

He decided to follow the "Professor's" orders anyway, despite his urge to not do so, during this she got out a (F*cking) pink paper, and wrote something on it with a (F*cking) pink quill, then putting it in a (F*cking) pink letter, passed it to Springtrap then saying, "Please give this to your house head Professor Snape, his office will be in the dungeons." He really didn't want to be close to this (F*cking) overly-pink "witch." (Chances are you won't understand why I repeated F*cking and said that instead of Fucking, but if you know i_am_a_duckhead on youtube, you'll remember this line if you are an unfortunate soul, "F*cking swiggly line.")

"Oh, and detention this week from seven to seven forty-five," that pink witch Springtrap felt abhorrent toward said.

He merely grabbed that letter and walk out the classroom, Shadow giving a look that seemed part proud, yet part worried. He slammed the door right behind him, speed-walking towards the dungeons to get to Snape's office, of course, things make the time more obnoxious, and that was Peeves. Who was apparently juggling many inkwells for some reason, but hey, who was he to judge? He was one who died and magically been revived from the dead and now had two forms of magic with rabbit ears and tail that seemed to be rotting.

"Oooh, Potty Wee Potter," cackled the poltergeist, who let two ink bottles fall to the floor, it was a bit annoying, but he didn't mind, it was kind of like how Shadow Freddy like to give the night guards a real scare, but was quite shy at the same time, these two would get along.

He sighed, "As much as I wanna tell you to go away, you probably would well befriend one of my friends, he loves to scare, although he is a bit shy."

This seemed to somewhat get Peeves attention.

"A friend," Peeves cackled again, "who would he be?"

"Eh, you can meet him at . . . how about after eleven."

"Hmmm, students out of bed? I might have to get you in trouble!" he sang with a musical tune.

"I doubt you'll be disappointed, we'll meet at . . . yeah, eleven will be good, but we'll only be up for 45 minutes maximum. I promise you will not be disappointed, deal?" he looked at peeves, fist waiting for Peeves.

Peeves seemed a bit confused for a second, but did the fist bump anyways, "Deal, but I can't promise you I won't rat you out." He cackled again flying away.

Springtrap smiled at the direction Peeves left, he just had to remind him of the kiddos. Just then, he remembered the note.

"Oh shoot! That's right the letter!" that moment with Peeves got him to completely forget about having to go to Snape's office, he quickly walked down the stairs to the dungeons and swiftly paced towards Snape's office.

Unfortunately, when he got there, he had to wait for a very long time, and by a very long time, he meant a very long time. DADA lasted from 2:00 to 3:30, and it was barely 3:00, so naturally, he'd have to stand there, next to the door of Snape's Office all bored, leaning against the wall. It likely would've done no good to reread the newspapers since that would likely make his current mood even worse, and he felt that he got mad enough for one day.

By 4:15 Snape came around to his office to see Springtrap waiting at the door.

"What have you done to come around here, Mr. Potter?" he questioned.

He simply gave him the (F*cking) pink letter. Snape took it, grimacing at it, opening it like he had to touch animal feces for the first time with his bare hands.

'I honestly will never understand whether this dude will be the bane of my existence or my spirit animal, but I'm part rabbit, well, part rabbit animatronic, but whatever."

Snape was already reading the paper inside the letter, continuing to sneer at it until he finally put it into his pocket. He opened his office door, gesturing him to follow him.

The room was gloomy, and densely lit, along the walls were shelves coated with glass jars just like in the classroom, seemed close to a hundred or was already at a hundred, maybe more. The office also included a fireplace.

"So tell me, Mr. Potter, what have you done to Professor Umbridge to come to my office?" Snape began the conversation, and it was clear Snape had a mission to make Springtrap's time as miserable as possible.

"Well, long story short, Umbridge wasn't planning to teach us any spells, just read about the theory, she even claimed that nothing was out there for us, stupid move considering the proof Shadow and I am that there is very well a lot out there in the world, heck, she admitted to attacking a minor for two months, WHEN IT WAS COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY LIKE WHAT THE HELL?!" He failed to catch himself before it was too late, he made an 'o' shaped mouth, at the realization.

"Language Potter," The professor sneered, "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"Well, even when Professor Umbridge was informed about a muggle murderer, she had the audacity to say it was made up! A killer that killed over 20 children and she says that?" He was honestly furious at her choice of action, he gripped his hands so hard a small drop of blood or more dripped from them.

Snape clearly could tell his anger, seen as he replied with, "alright Potter calm down, but what was really what got you to me."

Springtrap took time to take deep breaths, "I think the tipping ounce of water on the boat was when I called her 'Umbitch.'"

He could've sworn amusement was in Snape's eyes, but he gave a frown, betraying the emotions in his eyes.

"Potter, you need to be wary of the way you act towards Professor Umbridge, she is a part of the Ministry and can very well mess up your year seen as she also has the trust of Mr. Fudge especially since Mr. Longbottom has already been put down to such a level of distrust in the community, coming alongside him will bring you down much lower than you already are since you are . . . undead."

Undead. A word he was rather familiar with, although not used often.

"Now," continued the Professor, "go along, you only have a warning, you must be wary of whatever Umbridge's attempts, she won't be easy to go around, you will still have detention from her of course."

Springtrap only nodded in response, even though Professor Snape had stated the obvious, it was good to know someone with authority over him acknowledged this, and with that, he walked out of Snape's office.

+)* Linebreak *(+

Springtrap walked through the castle, today wasn't the best. Overall lessons hadn't been bad, they were catching up. Umbridge however, Umbridge, Umbridge, Umbridge, the first lesson was with the other fifth years, and it was not pleasant. He had finally reached Umbridge's office, he opened the door, and he has a sensation not unlike being close to throwing up.

The office was utterly covered in pink, barely an inch was spared of the office designer's wrath clearly, at the desk of the office sat Professor Umbridge―her smile making him a bit woozy―and a chair clearly for Springtrap to sit at, so of course, he did what the fool would do despite his inner protest.

He sat down in the chair and put his bag beside it.

"Now―we need to control our temper as we all know―and not tell lies," she started stopping every so while as she spoke, "and one way is by writing down, 'I must not tell lies,' on a piece of parchment―and that's exactly what I'd like you to do―with my quill."

She stretched her short arm towards Springtrap, within her hand being a quill without ink, causing him to raise his eyebrow.

"You won't need any ink dear," she smiled illy as she answered his unspoken question.

Knowing he had no choice if he wanted to go the path he wanted: a school year with as little unnecessary trouble as possible, he reached out for the quill, look down at the quill in front of him. Glancing down at the parchment, he put his hand into position and wrote down the letter I.

The tingle of a new fresh cut got him to glance down at his writing hand and saw that letter―that very letter he had just written on the parchment―had been cut into his hand, he glanced at the paper and it was then it clicked instantly, that this was why the quill didn't require ink, it was using his own blood instead.

Umbridge smiled as she watched him, she was sick, truly sick. His detention purpose rising to his thoughts again, he made himself write down 'I must not tell lies,' and did it robotically, trying to do it on autopilot in order to set his mind on other things.

He had a high pain tolerance, but what about the other kids, (okay they weren't kids, he should start referring to them as teens and tweens, despite his habits,) it was unlikely they'd have a pain tolerance to ignore this as much as he could now. What if they wound up in detention? Taking care of the kids was ALWAYS the crew's top priority, what if they got in detention, would they have to suffer the way Umbridge was trying to make him suffer? No, they had to report this as soon as possible, they wouldn't take any chances.

They wouldn't take ANY chances . . .

They wouldn't let ANY Night Guard leave the job unharmed.

They wouldn't risk that bastard ever killing another child ever again.

EVER . . .

He took a while to get out of thought, he had scratched the parchment so hard that the parchment had rips in it, and the quill appeared as if it would break on the next few letters.

"―yes yes, let all that anger out, let it out," said the voice he dreaded to hear when he zoned back in.

The disgrace of toads grabbed his hand with her hand, which fingers were coated several horrific rings.

"Tut tut, I seemed to have not made too good of an impression, but a few more days may help, come back the rest of the week Potter, you are dismissed."

He wasted no time walking out of the nightmare-into-reality room, or as he will call it for short, the N.R., and instantly began to sprint the second the door was closed. He had to immediately report this to Shadow, no way in H-E-Double Hockey Sticks was he gonna let this slide, and neither would the others, at all cost they had to ensure that no one even got a scratch obtained from that demon.

Eventually, he reached the dungeons, going to the wall that was the door to his common room, he said, "Dark Arts!" with a rush.

Now at the common room, he drifted his feet into the common room, covering his newly scarred hand―some people look at his direction for a second but nothing to worry about―scanning the place for Shadow, he saw her sitting down reading a book. He simply walked over to her.

"Shadow?" he asked in a worried tone, that was enough to get Shadow to look up from her book.

"Yes?" She asked simply, eventually noticing him covering his hand with his over one, usually if he got a fortuitous cut, he'd just leave it alone, and not bother to cover it, only covering it with a small amount of bandage when it was pretty bad, but never had he bothered to cover it with his plain palms for so long.

"Did something happen?" she asked, standing up from her seat, after a few mere seconds of noticing his hands, she knew something was wrong.

"Yes, could you get out of the common room with me and speak with me for a moment?"

She nodded. Once they walked out of the common room, she immediately went straight to the topic.

"Something happened during detention, or around that time, am I wrong?"

"You're completely correct, something happened during detention and we need to get evidence this is happening as soon as possible for the students' sake."

"I think this is when you show me the surface of your hand?"

He uncovered his hand and put it in view for Shadow.

A mere glance was enough to get her to ask, "How did this happen?"

"A quill, she makes you write with a quill on parchment without ink and whatever you write with this quill with not only cut it on your hand but it will use your own blood to write down what your being told to write."

Rage was clear in her eyes, though she seemed calm in every other way, she was still enraged.

"Well, then, how do we get evidence, that's the question now, anything else I need to know?"

"According to Professor Snape, it can very well fuck up our school year and judging by the Daily Prophet, the Wizarding World's very first thoughts on us, which may not matter that much but we're talking the Wizarding World, actually, we're just talking about Wizarding Britain, but you get the point, and she has a lot of trust from Fudge, the current minister which strengthens the fact we need live and solid evidence of this thing's crimes."

"Understood, I'll get researching as soon as I have the time to do so, but we outta begin with our homework."

"I get it, also, is it okay that I arranged a meeting with a certain mischievous ghost and all of our pals at 11:45 p.m. ?"

She gave him a peeved face, "I'm not happy about that, especially since from midnight to 6:00 in the morning we are forced to be in the very humanoid body's we possessed instead of those more human-like bodies you'd only see in some kind of fanfiction or comic book no matter what, but not only is the time clearly bad planning, but we also have a risk of revealing that tiny detail, that will cause so much chaos centering around us and reveal some things we don't want public, and you only tell me of this meeting now?"

"Okay okay, alright," he replied, hands half-up in front of him, "I'll try to do the next planned meeting with you at a better time when everyone will be asleep."

"Good," she said, before walking back towards the common room right after saying the password.

This was planned to be, so much longer, but ay, I was hella lazy on this chapter and barely worked on it, so might as well publish what's there, I likely will publish a rewrite when this is finished, so yeh, good day.