It had been six weeks since Albus Dumbledore had fallen, six weeks since the Dark Lord’s forces had infiltrated the castle she had once believed safe, six weeks since she herself had nearly died fighting for the Order of the Phoenix.

And yet for her, the past seemed preferable to the future.
 

“There are three stages to an all-nighter,” Cassian informed her as they gathered potion ingredients after dinner. “Stage one, concentration. In the best cases it lasts for a few hours, maybe until shortly before midnight. Stage two, silliness. That’s the fun bit when you’re overtired. Stage three, crashing. Usually kicks in about four in the morning.”

 

Ginny came over, looking like she was sucking on lemons, and plopped into a chair beside them. “So that’s it,” she said gloomily. “I have a sister for the first time in my life, and it’s Phlegm.”

“Good luck. We’re just a Patronus message away. We’ll get you out if you need to get out. I promise.” 

Being in classes with Neville Longbottom, Athena knew his constant challenging of the Carrows would lead into something more serious and organised, so it came as no surprise to her when he pulled her aside and told her he would be reinstating Dumbledore’s Army.