Notes: Khamûl was the name of one of the Nazgûl. Khamûl the Dementor is an OC (Original Character).
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything related to it.

Mr. Rock was a special rock. A thousand years in a castle filled with magic, then being picked up by one of the magically strongest wizards in centuries (despite the fact that he didn't actually believe in magic), led Mr. Rock to be partially sentient. Not very sentient, of course, being a rock and not having a brain, but sentient nonetheless.

Mr. Rock fancied herself (as she was a girl rock, no matter her title) Harry's first line of defense. She took on walruses (Marge Dursley), Nazgûl (Dementors), and even protected Harry from Blondie (Lockhart)'s memory spell by catching his attention.

So, when more Nazgûl attacked, shortly before Harry's fifth year began, Mr. Rock took it upon herself to deal with them.

And she did. This of course led to the dementors being scared of Mr. Rock. After the incident on the train in Harry's third year, and this incident now, the dementors decided it was better off being on the same side as Mr. Rock. Harry had unknowingly gained several hundered followers that were terrified of Mr. Rock.

Delores Umbridge should have known when there was no notice of magic use after she sent the dementors after Harry Potter that it would be a bad year. Especially when the Minister received a letter from the Dementor population as a whole that said they were quitting because 'Rocks shouldn't be that scary' and 'Mr. Rock has better dental anyway'.

Later in the year, Hermione Granger began banging her head against the wall when Harry told her, "The Nazgûl have sworn eternal loyalty and service to me. Does that make me Sauron?"

Harry liked to skip the boring classes. Defense Against The Dark Arts was boring most days, and even more boring now that Um…Um…Um-something…Umbitch maybe? She was certainly bitchy enough. Anyway, the classes were even more boring since she took over. So, naturally, Harry skipped the first class. And the next one. And the next one. And the next one.

"Mr. Potter!" Umbridge yelled, when she finally caught up with him.

"Yes, Profesor Umbitch?" Harry answered. Umbridge turned a shade of purple that Uncle Vernon would be jealous of.

"It's Professor Umbridge, Mr. Potter!" she hissed, the purple on her face growing a shade darker.

"Oh, is it. My apologies, Professor. I shall do my best to remember it."

"Yes, well. I suppose you can be forgiven for the slight. It's obvious you pay attention to nothing. You have not been attending my class." The purple lightened slightly.


"Why not?"

"It's boring." The purple grew even darker than before.

"I see. I'm afraid, Mr. Potter, that 'It's boring.' is not a proper reason to excuse you from class. That will be detention, I think. One week, for every missed class. That's a month of detentions already, Mr. Potter. Tut tut. We'll start at eight tonight, my office."

"Okay." Umbridge nodded and walked away with her nose in the air. Harry headed to the hospital wing to inform Madame Pomfrey of Professor Umbitch's color. That shade of purple couldn't possibly be healthy.

Harry Potter never showed up to his first day of detention. Or his second. Or his third. It was a common sight to see Umbridge with a purple face. Pomfrey asked Professor Snape to have his NEWT students work on a potion that lowered blood pressure. She was running out of the hospital wing's stock trying to keep Umbridge's head from popping off (as high blood pressure was seen to do in weaker wizards and witches).

Halfway into the second week of Harry skipping detentions, Pomfrey askekd that Snape put all his students on making it. Finally, Umbridge's grating voice (which seemed even worse when she complained about Harry) had gotten on Snape's nerves enough that he decided to make sure Harry suffered as well, and dragged the fifth year to his next detention himself.

"Well now, Mr. Potter. I think another week for every detention you skipped, as well as every class you've missed since we first spoke. Now, let's begin shall we," she said, handing him a long thin black quill. "You'll not need any ink for this quill, Mr. Potter." A large grin formed on her face. "You'll right out lines: I will obey my betters."

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Umbridge's grin faltered, as she stormed over to the door, and ripped it open, fully prepared to begin telling off the person who interrupted her, when she saw who, or rather what, it was that had knocked.

Harry looked up from his lines (Not I will obey my betters. but I would obey my betters if they weren't all insane. Not that there are many of my betters. Although there are a lot of insane people here.) at Umbridge's terrified squeak.

"Oh, hello, Khamûl," Harry greeted the dementor. "How are you?"

The dementor let out a groan which meant, "Utterly terrified of Mr. Rock. Please don't let her eat me. I will do your bidding for the rest of eternity." but that Harry took to mean as, "Fine."

"Oh, that's good." Umbridge let out another squeak as the dementor bowed to Harry and then moved to stand behind him, and Harry's only reaction was to go back to his lines (adding My Nazgûl friend is here. I should talk to the Nazgûl. They're causing undue terror in the insane people. to his lines.)

Delores Umbridge never gave Harry detention again.