Bellamy Blake, seventh year Gryffindor, quite the handsome stud (if he did say so himself), rebellion leader, and, right this second a coward in the face of a raised eyebrow on the face of Clarke Griffin. Self-consciously he attempted to straighten out his robes. The eyebrow did not go down. In fact, seemingly by magic, it went up further. "Ah...is there something on my face?"

Clarke rolled her eyes to the ceiling and pursed her lips. "Blake, we are going to Diagon Alley as a public show of gratitude for your 'heroics' in saving me from Dax." She glared at his wrinkled robes. "You are not wearing dirty school robes.

His fingers fiddled with the edges of his sleeves. "I don't really have anything better," he muttered.

A truly pained expression crossed her face. "Are you really incapable of ironing your shirts?"

"Not all of us have elves that keep our clothing pressed and ironed at all times Princess." He snapped, embarrassed by his clothing.

"There are such things as household charms. You should at least take good care of what you have." She said in an exasperated tone while pointing her wand at him.

Bellamy swallowed nervously as she muttered several spells under her breath. It was an odd sensation feeling his shirt straightening and heating up slightly while he was wearing it. The smudge on his tie vanished. A gust of warm air rushed through his hair before it straightened and laid itself down neater than the time he'd attempted to use hair gel. Blinking, he stared at his friend. "What?"

She stepped forward, grabbing his tie and untying it before beginning to retie it. "Really, public appearance is important. Honestly, learn some household spells. It's one thing to not be able to afford good clothes it is entirely another to not take care of what you have. If you are going to be seen with me, we're going to have to get you a new outer robe while we're out today." She looked at his robe in some disgust. Aiming her wand at the edges of it, she began to cast charms at the stained edges trying to get the mud stains out that had been ground in during years of quidditch.

Stepping back, he held his hands up in surrender. "Can we leave now Princess?"

"Fine...we're heading straight to Madame Malkin's though." She said, slipping her wand up her sleeve.

He rocked back on his heels. "Is that really necessary? You're already getting me a wand."

"Yes, and leaving you dressed like that will imply I'm not grateful for your rescue. If I'm going to publicly acknowledge a debt, then I'm going to do it properly." She gripped his shoulder firmly before dragging him to the fireplace. "You're not getting out of a public shopping trip. Stop attempting to delay us."

They went spinning through the fire after a final dark look thrown at him. He blinked as he tumbled out the other end. Her grip on his shoulder kept him upright but he had always hated floo travel. She was already dragging him out the back of the Leaky Cauldron. As they moved through the magical tavern, he noted the patrons talking quietly, heads hunched together, newspapers in various hands. Once they reached the brick wall, she released him and began to tap at the bricks. Deciding to break the silence, he spoke up with a historical fact. "Did you know the wall was put in place to prevent a squib revolt after the 1920 squib rights movement?"

Clarke froze from where she'd been about to hit the last brick. "I did not, I'm not surprised though."

"There were several similar wand only access points put in throughout magical Britain after the squib protests were shut down." He continued as the wall folded itself into an archway.

"Robe first." Clarke said, marching towards Madame Malkins. "Are you looking into a career in something related to history? You should, you'd be good at it."

"Yes, but there isn't much work for people like me." He shrugged.

Clarke sighed and looked over at him. "If you need a sponsorship, we can find you someone who can do so. In fact, after the...incident, I could have an excuse to do so myself."

Bellamy shook his head. "Thanks, but I know we don't want me to be too closely connected to you or any of your friends in the future."

"You're right." She said, her eyes pinching around the edges with frustration.

Looking around curiously, he took in all the businesses he'd never had an opportunity to shop in before now. He'd never had enough money to even consider shopping in Diagon Alley. Mud street was where he'd always done his shopping. The lower prices and second hand items meant it was the only place he could afford. He also felt like he belonged on Mud street. There he was among people like him. It wasn't that he stood out in Diagon Alley, but he certainly didn't feel like he belonged there. Diagon Alley was the main thoroughfare of magical Britain. Every type of magical sentient being came and went through the Alley. As a result of that traffic, the shops on the Alley were expensive. Going into one to shop was certainly different from walking the Alley to reach one of its connecting streets or to get to the bank.

As they entered the clothing shop he took in the fabrics hung on walls and folded on shelves. There were various enchanted tools on the tables and the work bench. Some of the fabric held enchanted patterns that swirled and twinkled. "What now?" He asked.

Clarke gestured to a small round stand in front of the window. "Climb on Blake, we're getting you something tailored."

Blanching, Bellamy did as he was told. A short busybody of a woman with grey hair pinned up in an elaborate pattern with hat pins sticking out at various intervals entered the room. "Lady Griffin!" The woman greeted happily.

"Madame." Clarke said, smiling though she didn't offer her hand to the woman. "My acquaintance here is in need of a good outer robe."

Madame Malkin turned to examine him and began to tut. She raised her wand while her brow furrowed in serious thought. "Standard school robe then?"

Clarke shook her head, ignoring Bellamy's silent pleading for mercy. "No, tailored standard wear. Brass clasp, all the standard enchantments for repelling dirt, resistance to tearing, the usual."

"Hmmm…" The woman banished his robe into a heap on a chair to the side of where he was standing and bustled over to a rack of fabrics. "Is there a color you prefer?"

Bellamy tried to push off the measuring tape that had started to measure his face. Once batted away, it began to measure his legs and he left it to its work. Looking up, he caught Clarke's eye. "You know a nice grey or brown would be fine."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Black, wool blend." She looked over at his outraged face. "Oh hush Blake, you know nothing about clothing and if I'm getting you a robe I'm getting you a useful robe."

He crossed his arms. "Black isn't the only color that is useful."

"It is if you want it to work in multiple situations from job interviews to social engagements." Clarke replied matter-of-factly.

"Put your arms down boy." Madame Malkin said as she held up a few pieces of fabric against him. "The standard black or this lovey coal black?"

Clarke tilted her head. "Coal, and don't give me that look Blake. I'll eat my wand if I'm the first person to tell you that you need better clothing."

Bellamy winced as that one hit home...somehow this was worse than the idea of letting Roma help him next time he went shopping. Still, he obediently held out his arms as Madame Malkin began to cut swaths of fabric before sending them to his person where sewing needles began to sew them into place neatly. It was fascinating to watch, he would have to look up sewing enchantments. They seemed like they would have been an early invention and they would no doubt have quite the interesting history to them.

Madame Malkin looked at Clarke over her shoulder. "What do you think about a nice wine colored waistcoat to match? I can use coal thread and buttons to match the robe."

Clarke hummed. "An excellent suggestion, six buttons I think."

"Double breasted?"

"You two do realize I'm here?" Bellamy interjected, feeling rather indignant.

Clarke waved his indignance off with a dismissive gesture. "Just standard."

"Yes dear. As for you, young man, you're clearly one of those wizards who can't tell an outer cloak from an inner cloak." Madame Malkin said as she pulled down a dark red fabric that Bellamy assumed must be wine colored.

Thirty minutes later and Bellamy watched in horror as twelve galleons were handed over and his sweater vest and school robe shrunken and put in one of Clarke's pockets. He had a feeling Clarke would have rather burnt them but was too polite to do so. Finally, they went back into the alley with him in the nicest clothing he had ever worn. Running a hand through his hair, he stared at the sleeve of his robe in wonder.

"Right, let's get a wand then." Clarke said, smiling at him approvingly.

He followed behind her trying to act like this was just another day and that he was as comfortable in his new clothes as the people around him appeared to be. Still, he could see how people seemed to react to him differently. Their eyes didn't just slide over him. There was a slight tilt of acknowledgment. It was the oddest feeling. "This isn't me."

Clarke stopped turning to face him. "I know. Don't worry, dressing up like this won't be something you have to do often. I still think you should wear something a little better than your usual when you can afford it. However, this level of dress will not be expected of you in most circumstances. This just happens to be one of those occasions." She reached out and patted his shoulder. "So, let me do something nice for you while I have the chance."

He nodded, swallowing emotions he didn't know how to name. Ollivanders was the store of legends to him. Getting two galleons to rub together was hard enough that a luxury like a matched wand was nothing but a dream to him. So, he stepped into the dusty building with his eyes full of wonderment. It was full of tall leaning shelves with thousands of boxes of unique never before owned wands. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end from the sheer magic in the air. He'd never felt anything quite like it before. It was similar to some of the more magical areas inside Hogwarts. It felt more uncontrolled and almost sentient however, like the air moments before a lightning strike. So, when the spindly old man came around a corner with a wheezy voice, he almost jumped out of his skin.

"Welcome. Ah, Ms. Griffin, vine and dragon heartstring, 11 inches, plenty of give. Still working with you well?"

"As well as the day you sold it to me." Clarke said, easily ignoring the man's honestly creepy gaze.

That gaze now moved to Bellamy. "Who do we have here?" He pulled up a pair of glasses before looking at him closely. "Mr. Grus' bastard I see."

Bellamy's fists tightened, his knuckles turning white. "I'm not that man's son." He practically snarled.

"Magic doesn't lie Mr. Blake." He said while moving back to the shelves and pulling out boxes.

Clarke reached out, gripping his arm. "Mr. Ollivander is a type of seer. He can see the lines of magic within a person or a wand. He doesn't mean to insult you."

Breathing out through his nose, he forced himself to settle, his hands unclenching, stretching out his fingers. He reminded himself that he was nothing like that scum. "Well, he should keep some of those things to himself."

"Magic isn't meant to be a secret Mr. Blake." Ollivander said as he appeared in front of them, setting down a pile of wands. "Now, let's see what wand will choose you." He held out a box. "Maple and unicorn, nice and supple."

Reaching out, Bellamy gently lifted the wand and gave it a swish. It shocked his hand causing him to drop it with a yelp.

"Not that one." Ollivander said grabbing it out of the air and gently setting it back in its box. "Try this one, give it a wave. Holly and dragon heartstring."

Bellamy lifted it and waved it only to feel every hair on his body stand straight up from his body. He set it down cautiously looking at it suspiciously. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Clarke stifling laughter.

Ollivander held out the box of yet another wand. His fingers wrapped around it and his whole hand to felt warm. The warmth spread right up his arm infusing his whole being.

He seemed only vaguely aware of the clapping from the wandmaker as he stared at the wand in his hand with its dark wood. It felt like coming home, he hadn't known a wand could feel like this. Looking up at Clarke, he spoke thickly. "Thank you."

She smiled softly at him but didn't say anything.

Ollivander, however, did speak. "Lovely match that. Mahogany and dragon heartstring. Protective, good for powerful spells."

Bellamy nodded, just holding his wand while Clarke handed over the seven galleons and then gently herded him out of the shop. He tucked it carefully in his sleeve where he could feel the warm wood against his arm. "Is this what magic always feels like?"

"Yes, at least it's what it's supposed to feel like." She bumped his shoulder slightly.

He attempted to distract himself by looking around the Alley. He nearly choked when he saw the knot of the rebellion tattooed on a man's neck. Forgetting his manners, he elbowed Clarke and pointed. "Do you know him?"

Clarke looked as surprised as he was. "No."

"So, he's not…" Bellamy trailed off in a sort of muted awe.

They both were silent for a moment, completely ignoring that the man had turned the corner and was no longer in sight. Clarke spoke with an odd lilt. "That might be the most pervasive example of trend setting I have ever seen. Roma is truly a powerful person."

"Clarke?" He looked at her warily. There was a familiar and frightening light in his friend's eyes.

She seemed to barely be present as she thought out loud. "I've made a mistake. I underestimated her influence. We should listen to her more often, I need to be better friends with her, she's obviously going to be a valuable resource!"

He felt his eyes widen in fear. If Clarke and Roma became actual friends, he knew his wardrobe would be doomed. "Lunch! We don't want to be late for lunch!"

-TMTMTMTMTMTMTMTMTMTMTMTMTMTMTM-

Bellamy was casting small charms about the private room at the Leaky Cauldron. He grinned, he was so used to forcing magic out for spells that when he had tried a simple dusting charm with his new wand he had scoured most of the grime off the walls. In fact, he was sure the room was cleaner than it had been for years. Clarke just seemed mildly bemused as she ate her meatloaf in companionable silence.

He was so distracted by how much fun he was having with his new wand that he didn't notice Murphy had arrived. Not till he heard the asshole's laughter.

"You have something you want to tell us Blake?" He crowed, pointing to the bubbles that were forming in mid-air.

Bellamy pulled up, flushing vividly while banishing his bubbles in indignation. Clarke cut across him before he could say anything though. "Oh, lay off Murphy, he's just enjoying true chemistry with a wand."

Murphy's smirk grew. "Oh, new unexplored territory for you? I'd think you'd be used to having a stick up your ass."

"Shove it, like it's not all unexplored territory for you." He sat down with narrowed eyes.

Clarke shot a silencing spell at the door. "You can go back to measuring wands later." She sighed while pinching the bridge of her nose. "For now, were you able to secure the item?"

He pulled out a grimy looking canvas bag and set it on the table, a foul smell emanating from it. "I present a hand of glory, which was hard to come by, believe me."

Bellamy reached out towards the bag. Taking a corner of the bag between two fingers, he upended it, causing the hand still clutching the candle in its dead fist to roll out of it. The air around the thing felt slimy. He wrinkled up his nose. "It's real."

"Of course!" Murphy looked insulted. "That cost a pretty penny to find let alone acquire."

"Well done." Clarke said, looking at it in awe. "We can go ahead with the break in at the Ministry before the end of the year now."

"I'm sorry what? You're breaking into the Ministry of Magic without me?" Murphy exclaimed in some actual outrage.

Bellamy looked at him curiously. "Wait, you actually want in on everything?"

Murphy flicked some of his hair out of his face. "I am loyal to the cause, illegal soul magic and all that." He seemed to consider what to say next. "Since I signed up with you guys I make enough cash to eat on the regular and the jobs you have me running for the cause are interesting."

It took a moment for Bellamy to really comprehend that yes, Murphy could be trusted. That simple fact was so far from his usual understanding of the world it had taken till just now to dawn on him. That's what the oath meant. It bound a piece of your soul and your free will to the cause, not being loyal wasn't a possibility. So, "couldn't trust him further than you could throw him" Murphy, was completely trustworthy. He frowned slightly. Well, as long as it involved the rebellion. It had never occurred to him that apparently, the rebellion was an equal opportunity employer either. "Do you think the employment opportunity could make a good hook to get people interested in joining?"

Murphy seemed to consider it. "Who knows maybe in our neighborhood. At least we won't have to explain what it is anymore. Nice way to come out with a bang."

"What did Mud and Knockturn street think of the broadcast?" Bellamy asked curiously. After all, those were his people and in his opinion they were the ones they were fighting for. Diagon Alley hadn't seemed much different from before other than the brief sighting of the tattoo and the strange huddled nature of the Cauldron.

Kicking back, Murphy let his chair lean back onto two legs. "Well, most people think you lot are a bunch of crazies that are going to end up in Azkaban by next week. Then there's the usual rumors and fears of Auror raids in retaliation for humiliating the Minister. Nicely done by the way." He smirked at them approvingly. "For now, no one is sure what to expect. Most everyone just wants to keep their head down and stay out of the line of fire and all that."

Clarke hummed, looking thoughtful. "Has anyone noticed any connections with the Latrocinium party?"

"Naw, nobody who's a nobody gives a damn about the Wizengamot Princess. You're in the clear, nobody on Mud Street gives a crap about you." He tilted his head and then spoke with a smug grin. "Full offense meant of course."

"Thanks." She said dryly, then more seriously, "That's good though. None of the Wizengamot members have given any sign of noticing what is underneath my political moves." She looked seriously at Murphy. "You have more of an ear to the ground with the general populace than I do. I'll need for you to be my ears and inform me of how people react to the changes coming."

"Yes ma'am." He drawled, leaning back in his chair. "By the by, this JEM thing is badass. So many options for how to use it. You wouldn't happen to have a few more laying around somewhere?"

"Do you need them for your tasks?" Bellamy asked suspiciously. Sue him, even with the oath he didn't trust Murphy not to be a self-interested jack-ass.

Murphy shrugged. "Well, it has applications for smuggling."

"Then no." Bellamy glared at him.

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Would it help you with getting things for the Latrocinium?"

"Yes." He said shortly, suddenly looking less playful.

"Clarke?" Bellamy turned to her. "You know he's going to use it to help his own aims."

"Of course," She replied. "Still, it doesn't change the fact he can and will be using them for us as well." Turning her attention back to Murphy, she continued. "I'll see about getting you some. Owl any requirements you have."

"Thanks." He grabbed the third plate of meatloaf and began to dig into it.

Bellamy groaned and let his head fall back. "We need to increase recruitment if we mean to make more statements publicly. Some fireworks and a public message isn't going to get us the recruits we need."

"You've got a point." Murphy pointed his fork at him. "You're not legit yet."

"So, we need to start making waves." Clarke said slowly. "I have been meaning to speak with the manager of the Applebee Arrows."

"How would that help us?" Bellamy asked curiously while reflecting on the ridiculous turn of events that the biggest Quidditch downer he knew owned a professional team.

Clarke looked at him like he was missing something. "We need to show people change, change worth fighting for. People idolize Quidditch players for whatever reason. Don't you think people would find it inspiring if people of similar blood status to them performed well on such a recognized stage?"

"Well yeah," He shrugged. "But like how's that going to make anyone want to fight?"

"It isn't all about fighting Blake. First, we have to show them that there is something worth fighting for. So, let's start with sports." She spoke passionately.

"Just because you own the team doesn't mean you can just change up the roster Clarke!" Bellamy protested.

Murphy choked. "You own the team?!"

They both ignored Murphy's exclamation. Instead, Bellamy continued his protest. "You know next to nothing about Quidditch. You can't just hire some muggleborns and go 'poof' winning team. There are things like cohesion, team dynamics and chemistry, sponsorship, fan loyalty, contracts for already established players that you have to consider." He waved his hands helplessly. "You can't just change it on a whim."

Clarke crossed her arms. "Watch me."

He let out a strangled noise in the back of his throat. "Clarke, you can't just cause mass chaos for a team like that it's... it's sacrilege!"

"It's a sport not a religion Blake." She raised a brow. "Besides, do you really think I'd just make changes without working with people who know more about the subject than I do?"

"That's… you still can't just… why Quidditch?!" He managed to get out.

She rolled her eyes. "Because everyone is completely obsessed with it. Just look at your reaction to me suggesting I change things up in one team. If we want change, we have to get people's attention and there's no better way of doing that than using something they already adore. Still, that's a project for another time. You and Raven were working on a parade?"

Murphy coughed and just set his fork down on his plate. Clearly, he'd decided eating was a danger to his health. "Parade? We'd all be killed."

Bellamy grinned while deciding to bring up the Quidditch thing later. He feared for the sport if Clarke got her grubby hands on it. She just did not have the proper respect for its awesomeness. The parade was a good distraction to get her off the topic for a while. "We don't need to physically be there if we use enchantments! We enchant sheets, or mannequins or something to walk in the parade on our behalf. Don't you think that would give you enough cover to use that grimy thing." He pointed to the hand of glory. "And sneak into the Ministry department for tracking underage magic?"

"How would you get the enchanted items into the streets without getting people arrested?" Clarke asked while pulling out a notebook and fountain pen. She quickly began scribbling notes.

He shrugged slightly. "We're not completely sure yet. If we used elves the tracking of illegal apparition would be difficult."

"We can't keep depending on elves to get us places unnoticed. It's not like the Ministry doesn't have elves of their own." Clarke disagreed.

Murphy cleared his throat. "What about us squibs? Nobody would connect a squib to something magical happening. You'd just need us to release the things anyways."

Clarke bit her lip. "And if they decided to turn you into a scapegoat?"

Bellamy frowned. "You're not getting yourself arrested, we can find a better way."

"Maybe we can apparate to pre-arranged safe houses?" Clarke suggested. "If we had a house with the necessary wards set, following the apparition trail would be impossible. Three apparitions to string the magic trail over as much of the region as possible before going behind wards would let you lose aurors unless one is able to physically touch you while you're escaping."

"We would still need a distraction for our members who start the parade…" Bellamy hummed under his breath as he thought about it. "A distraction for our distraction."

"What about a violation of the Statute of Secrecy?" Murphy looked suddenly smug. "Nothing big and unexplainable but enough to get the aurors out and in the muggle world. You know something like a dancing table at an elementary muggle school."

Bellamy reached out, offering a high five to Murphy, who promptly accepted, slapping their palms together. "That's brilliant. The auror squad on duty would be called out immediately to deal with the problems involved with something magical happening in front of so many people. It would leave only security and the single auror who's in charge of the Alley there. That's easy enough to escape from if we get into too much trouble."

Clarke bit her lip. "We might not want to do it in front of such young children. Aurors tend to use obliviate far too casually. I wouldn't want to be responsible for damaging the minds of any children. Perhaps we could do it in a university cafeteria instead."

"It would be more believable in an elementary school where it could be explained away as accidental magic. Children's minds are also more apt to take suggestions so the aurors would be less likely to need memory charms." Bellamy stared at her, pretty sure Clarke already knew all this. "The kids won't be harmed. Stuff like this happens, the aurors know how to deal with it."

Clarke looked slightly ashamed. "I know. It's just that ever since I saw what they did to Charlotte… children that young shouldn't be involved in this sort of thing."

Murphy looked confused at the reference but Bellamy was sympathetic. "This won't be like that. The kids will get an entertaining show that they will later remember as something completely ordinary. The aurors won't hurt them."

"Not that this display of sap isn't entertaining but is there anything else you need me for? I'm a busy guy." Murphy interjected.

"Oh, shut up Murphy," Clarke snapped playfully. "Bellamy, is there anything we need for Murphy to acquire for us?"

Bellamy pulled out a list, it was a bit smudged but was still legible. "Here," he passed it to Murphy. "These are the items that our resident inventors need that they can't get on their own. Some of it's just from the muggle world but, good luck."

Murphy glanced through the list and raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know why they want styrofoam and gasoline?"

"Probably not," he conceded. "I'm afraid it is going to be something horribly flammable. Apparently, it's necessary for the new batch of enchanted long lasting fireworks they're making but I'm not sure that's all they're using it for."

"Huh…" Murphy folded up the list and shoved it into his pocket. "Well, I'll message you when I get ahold of all this. Don't go and do anything interesting without letting me know."

"Stay safe asshole." Bellamy said, standing up with Murphy and shaking his hand.

"You too, dunderhead." Murphy replied with a smirk. He gave a little mocking salute to Clarke before heading out the door.

He stared as the door closed, leaving him alone with Clarke again. Running a hand through his hair, he looked over at his friend. "It's going to get more dangerous now, isn't it?"

"Yes, but if we're careful we might get away with it." She laughed slightly. "We're voting on my bills tomorrow. No one has pointed out that the wording of the bills specifically protects students of any magical bloodline. Still, all it would take is one person to make the connection and they won't be voted in and life becomes much more difficult for us."

"You specifically wrote those bills to be as dry as dirt, and to read excessively long." He shuddered at the remembrance of the damn things. He was a history buff extraordinaire, dry boring texts were in his blood, and he had still felt himself going cross-eyed by the end of the first paragraph.

Clarke laughed. "Let's hope that helps. You do realize muggle mannequins are supremely creepy and are way more terrifying than we want to come off for a parade?"

He accepted the change of topic. "Yeah, Raven was leaning towards sheets but Miller was arguing that the fabric would be harder to enchant than plastic."

She tilted her head. "Well, we'll have to trust our inventors then. As long as we don't terrify the population."

They sat there in silence for a while before Bellamy found himself double checking his suspicions. "Are you avoiding going back to Hogwarts because Finn was wandering around the great hall with a bouquet of flowers?"

"Yup." She said easily.

He considered his options. "Want to go work on the safe house since we're out anyways?"

She smiled widely, standing up quickly. "That sounds like a fantastic idea."