They'd been found out. The jig was up. That was the only thing that sound could mean and everyone in the room knew it. For who else could it be but Umbridge blasting at the stone wall which concealed their classroom's door, and what else could it mean but swift and painful punishment, likely expulsion, when she eventually broke through. So the students waited, shocked still by fear, for the inevitable next blow to bring the already shaking wall down. Seconds grew to minutes and then larger still, as frightful hesitation dragged their true temporal meaning away, leaving only a cruel vastness, occupied solely by fret's tension.

It was Dean who finally thought to ask the room for a peephole to look into the corridor. He crept toward the wall under the hollow gazes of his classmates. Glancing out, he startled back at a phantom image of Umbridge lurking outside, before peering deeper to find the hallway empty. After a minute, Harry confirmed this on the Marauder's Map, but still no one moved. The strain of stillness soon got to be too much for young Nigel Wolpert, and he voiced the question on everyone's mind.

"What do we do now?"

"Well," Hermione answered, when no one else would, "there are two options. First, that the banging was Umbridge, but she couldn't get in. We've known that they've known where the room is for weeks. Since the door's held and there's no one outside, she's likely given up and will soon pursue another strategy, in which case we can't stay here. If she does a head count and finds us missing, it's as good as if we handed her the sign up sheet. Or there's option two, that it wasn't Umbridge and her pet Slytherins at the door, in which case it could only have been an ally, likely a teacher or the room itself, trying to warn us. I can't say for sure of what, but it's most likely Umbridge coming, meaning again we need to leave."

"But we can't just leave," Katie argued. "It's like you said. They know where we are, but they can't get in. We're safe here. As soon as we leave the room though, we'll be sitting ducks."

"What if it's a trap?" Justin added. "She knows where we are, and she already has a good idea of who's in DA. She was just waiting for someone to crack. Clearly someone has if she's banging at the door. She's just waiting for us to leave, then she'll spring the trap and do who knows what. She's already using the blood quill. If the ministry gets word there's a group called Dumbledore's Army, she'll have permission to do much worse than that."

"But who would crack?" Ron said, clearly affronted by the accusation of disloyalty. "She's been at it for months and no one has."

"Who's not here?" Justin threw back.

This led to an uncomfortable survey among the occupants of the room.

"Terry. He's been fretting all day about the Arithmancy test tomorrow. Said he was skipping to study."

"Seamus used a skiving snack box to get out of Defense today," Dean said with a chuckle. "Only Flitwick caught him before he could eat the antidote, and he's been stuck in the hospital wing with a mysterious blue rash ever since. Personally, I think Flitwick knew he was faking and this is his punishment for it. Pomfrey and Snape have been giving him all manner of disgusting potions and Snape seems far too happy about it. Seamus said one of them was supposed to contain three different parts of a rat, and that I didn't want to know which."

This prompted a small burst of laughter before Lavender answered next.

"Parvati. We noticed Crabbe and Goyle following us, hiding behind pillars half as thick as they were and thinking they were sneaky. She said she'd distract them and I should go ahead. No reason for us to both miss. She never showed up so either she got caught or couldn't shake them. I don't think she'd tell though," she added hastily. "She loved this too much. Said it was the first time she felt really good at anything besides divination and charms."

There was silence after that. They all knew who else was missing, and were waiting for Cho to answer.

"Marietta had detention today," she said quietly, as though speaking to loud would make it real. "With Umbridge. She came back shaking from the last one. Said she was under a lot of pressure, that Umbridge had been talking about getting her father fired, or taking her little brother in for questioning. He's only a firstee. Yesterday, I wouldn't have thought she'd crack, that any of us would… But it's possible."

No one knew what to say to that. They all knew it had happened. They'd felt the same pressure she had and understood. But still she'd cracked, and they hadn't, and now they were done for. No one could voice it, but it was unforgivable.

"But so what if she's told," Hermione all but shouted, unable to properly predict her volume in contrast to the silence. "We can't just stay here. What are we going to do? Skip all our classes, live in this room, somehow feed ourselves, and then sneak off to the train at the end of term. It won't work. We'll have to leave eventually." She paused then, weighing her words. "I'll go. I'll go, then if I get caught, I'll tell you and you can decide what to do. If not, you'll know it's safe to leave."

"No, Hermione—"

"Stop. It was my idea. This whole thing was my idea. If some one should go down for it it should be me." The Weasley twins murmured to each other for a moment, before George stepped forward.

"We'll go with you. We were thinking of ditching out anyway to start our shop. Don't need our NEWTs for that, and the Toads getting more unbearable by the hour. Reckon now's as good a time as any, and if things go South, we've got enough tricks between us to get you out of harm's way.

So it was settled. Harry organized the rest of the DA into groups of three or four, waiting to sneak out when their coins heated with good news. George, Fred, and Hermione, left for the Great Hall. Their stomachs were in no mood to eat and legs markedly upset to be carrying them there, but what else could they do? It was time for dinner.


They merged with a larger group entering the hall, and made their way unobtrusively to the Gryffindor table. Hermione quickly sent the all clear, signalling for Harry's group to head down, and then began serving herself. She reached for the potatoes before noticing a red-headed first year glaring at her from across the table. She gave the girl a quizzical look. Shrugging, she spooned herself an unnecessarily large portion, and began eating.

"What are you doing?"

Hermione looked up at the indignant girl, before motioning to her food and making the obvious reply, "Eating." She shared a look with Fred before scooping up a bite of ham. She was slicing off a second bite when the girl interrupted again.

"Who're you?" the girl asked, louder this time, her glare joined by that of the curly haired wiaf next to her.

"Hermione." She replied, mock glaring back. She'd barely picked her glass up before the chit spoke up again.

"You can't sit here," She said with the nosy authority of one backed by a rule book. Hermione sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry if you had friends you wanted to eat with. I'll sit somewhere else tomorrow, but for now you'll just have to make due." With that she considered the matter settled, and it was for a good few minutes. Half her plate had been nervously emptied before she was next interrupted.

"But you can't sit here," she said more emphatically, as though the mere act of stressing her words, would make her meaning somehow more clear.

Fred nudged her. Hermione glanced around to see they were garnering a lot of attention. She looked to the head table to see if Umbridge had noticed.

She wasn't there. Neither were Snape, Vector, or Trelawney. This wasn't so much unusual; each were fairly solitary individuals. What struck her was the glare Dumbledore was sending her way, and the dark bearded man who'd stood from his seat on the left end, wand out.

Harry and Angelina entered the hall with Nigel and Romilda in tow, shifting the man's attention. He shouted an unfamiliar orange spell which Harry blocked. Then all hell broke loose.