With this chapter, I've pretty much surpassed (in number of words) the biggest thing I've ever written, and there's no end in sight here, so whoooo go meee (I think?). Anyway, this was written late at night so I'd appreciate it if y'all could point out any errors!

ETA: If any of you happened to have read this chapter when I first published it, I added a bit at the end.

- Karo


"They're going to do what?"

Seamus had spent his day hidden behind the curtains of his bed, having only left briefly for food, ignoring the strange looks the others gave him when he'd all but inhaled his meals, not speaking a word to the others. Neville, against the protests of most women in his life, had decided to go stick his hands in the dirt for the afternoon, even though he'd needed Hannah's help to even button his shirt, claiming he needed the therapy. Seamus had just shrugged when Lavender had thrown a scathing look his way, clearly asking him to argue with the injured man. All Seamus needed was some time to concentrate on the workbook, and though he felt a little guilty at wanting Neville to go away, it was worth it, because he'd nearly finished it by the time he realized it was almost midnight and he needed to go meet Blaise.

But now he was tired – his brain had worked incredibly hard all day, deciphering codes and puzzles, each more complicated than the last – and he was having a hard time understanding just what Zabini was saying. Well, he knew what he was saying, it was just hard to believe.

"I knew Gryffindors were stupid, but I didn't know they were also hard of hearing," Zabini said sardonically, hands folded in front of him like the last time. He was still elegantly dressed and meticulously coiffed, unlike Seamus, who hadn't shaved in three days and was definitely looking scruffy. "Starting Wednesday morning, only Slytherin prefects will be allowed to do rounds, deduct points and give out detentions."

It was a blow, all right. Knowing who was in the castle, when and where had been an enormous advantage. It was one of the reasons no one had gotten caught making their way to the Room of Requirement yet, and having active prefects as part of their group had allowed them some insurance against the antagonizing of the Slytherin ones, who knew they could not be too cruel while others were watching. That was all going to change.

"I didn't think they could do that," Seamus said, spotting elf-like movement in the back of the kitchens. He'd instructed Dobby much more carefully this time, and it seemed like the little servant had heeded his warnings.

"I think you'll find they can do anything they want around here," Zabini said.

Seamus passed his hand over his face, feeling the roughness of his chin. "Why are they doing this?"

Zabini raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, and Seamus knew he wasn't getting an answer, though he had the distinct impression that the Slytherin had one. Such was the game.

"All right," Seamus said, nodding in comprehension. "Your source—"

"I will not divulge who they are."

"Of course not." Though it was easy enough to guess, Zabini did share a room with Head Boy Theodore Nott. "I was just going to ask – you trust their information?"

Once again, Zabini stared at Seamus for a long beat while Seamus forced himself not to slouch. He'd dressed better this time, opting for khaki trousers and a pullover instead of the sweats and t-shirt he'd had on the other night, though it didn't make him feel any more distinguished or confident.

Dean's voice resounded in Seamus' head: fake it until you make it. That's what he would have said, if he were here.

There was still silence. Seamus wanted to crack his knuckles or tap his foot or something, anything, to break the quiet.

Finally, Zabini spoke.

"I will not come to you with lies if you do not come to me with idiotic questions."

With that, he stood, turned, and made his way out of the kitchen without so much as a look behind him at the man he'd left at a long, empty wooden table.

Seamus let out a long breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding back as he pulled out his DA galleon from his pocket. The fake coins had been improved by Michael at the beginning of the year, and they would now shake, if the messenger required it, beginning with a soft jiggling and then ending with a full vibration if the message was not read within five minutes. Of course, sending such a message was risky, and they'd agreed to only use it when absolutely needed. But Michael had gone one step further, and had researched why Patronuses were able to communicated with their intended target and only them. He'd then somehow finagled the coins into doing something similar – the members of the DA, who'd signed their name on a sheet and given a thumbprint, would now be the only ones able to read them. Amazing magic, and dead useful. Like the clover-message Seamus had first received from Zabini.

He concentrated hard on his message and tapped the coin with his wand. It would send to all prefects, seventh-years and Ginny, and would ask them to meet in the Room in half an hour. It was almost twelve-thirty now, which gave him enough time to creep up the castle, and maybe even get a bite to eat first.

"Dobby?" he called out. He heard a pot clash to the floor and suddenly the little house-elf appeared in front of him with a pop, bulbous eyes staring intently.

"Yes, sir!" Dobby said, his arms rigid at his side, and Seamus swore the elf almost snapped into a salute.

"Er, at ease, Dobby." Seamus considered telling Dobby that he needn't have dropped the pot, but he had heard tales from Ron of the elf smashing his ears in the oven doors, and, having never had an elf himself, he didn't want to see a repeat performance. Dobby's hands, which were wearing three different pairs of colourful, knitted gloves, came together to twist his similarly bright jumper. He had dirty socks pulled up to his knobby knees. The little creature smiled at Seamus, bobbing his head.

"Mr. Finnigan, did Dobby do better this time?" His voice was incredibly hopeful, and Seamus couldn't help but smile widely at his miniature bodyguard..

"Aye, you were perfect. Can I get – actually, wait…" Seamus faded off for a second, an idea springing to the front of his mind, and Dobby stepped closer eagerly. "Dobby, can you do something for me? And for… Harry Potter's friends?"

Those were the magic words, Seamus knew, and Dobby jumped nearly a foot in the air, his large ears flapping about.

"Dobby will do everything he can to help!"

"Can you keep an eye on Zabini for me? You know, that student that was in here with me just now? Don't get caught, don't be obvious, you don't have to be on his tail all the time, just… let me know what he gets up to, all right?"

Dobby was nodding very intently. "Oh yes, Dobby knows all about spying. Harry Potter asked Dobby to spy on Draco Malfoy last year."

Seamus absorbed this information quickly – he didn't have enough time to sit and ponder. "Well, if you see Malfoy doing anything funny while you're at it, tell me about that too. But, Dobby?" He decided to take his chances. "First rule of spying, don't tell anyone you're doing it."

Dobby gasped, tears instantly welling up in his tennis-ball-like eyes. "Oh no! Dobby told Harry Potter's secret! Dobby didn't—"

He looked like he was about to go on, but Seamus cut his wailing off with a wave of his hand. "Dobby, it's all right, because it's just me. But make sure it doesn't happen again, understood?"

Dobby nodded solemnly. "Yes, Mr. Finnigan, sir. Dobby will watch Mr. Zabini closely, and Mr. Malfoy too. Dobby will do his very best to keep stealthy."

"Thanks, Dobby. Unless it's urgent, you can report to me next time I'm here, all right? And… do you have any rolls or anything I can eat? I think I'm going to be up a while longer, and—"

Dobby had jumped and scurried away before Seamus could finish his sentence, and the Irishman felt quite like he'd accomplished many useful things today.

::

Dobby had sent Seamus off into the castle after shaking his hand repeatedly with two apples (one green and one red), three cookies wrapped in a napkin, and a ham sandwich on rye bread, all of which were stuffed in his newly expanded trouser pockets. It was late, so the prefects were done their rounds for the night, and the moon shone on the castle walls along which Seamus creeped, Disillusioned. He should have taken a path different than the one he knew the Hufflepuffs would follow, but it was late, and they were all supposed to be Disillusioned, so Seamus took the quickest route, not expecting to be spotted.

And he wasn't – it was he who did the spotting. Rather, he heard them before he saw them, as one of them was not being particularly quiet, and he recognized the voice immediately.

"You're both mad!" Zacharias Smith cried, definitely not Disillusioned, to two other whom Seamus couldn't see for their Charm. "We don't need this! We've got class in the morning!"

Seamus stepped into the shadows, even though he was sure that Zach had not seen him, for he was waving his arms around in anger.

"Zach…" someone whispered; it sounded to Seamus like Susan.

"Don't. We're going to get caught one of these days! Why the hell would they need to call us at this time? Fucking Gryffindors, they don't care about anybody but themselves. This is suicide, all of it." His tone was harsh and foolishly loud. Seamus thought it seemed like the right time to make himself known.

"Smith," he said firmly, his voice low and threatening, stepping forward. He knew he was still camouflaged, and he heard two surprised gasps from near where Zach was standing. "If anyone's getting caught, it'll be your fault, you goddamned idiot. Now Disillusion yourself now or I will."

Someone let out a squeak.

"Fuck this," Smith said, turning to wear Seamus seemed to be standing, squinting as he tried to make out the outlines of his body. "You're all fools. I don't need any of you. I'm going to bed."

"Then don't bother coming back to us at all," Seamus said, amazed at the coldness of his voice. It was like a bit of Blaise had seeped in him from only two conversations. "Get going, you two, I'll be there soon. I'll take care of this."

There was silence for a few seconds before the sound of soft, padding footsteps could be heard scurrying away.

Seamus stepped forward again, so he was only a foot away from the Hufflepuff.

"Do you know what I do, in the summers?" Seamus asked, his words still frigid despite the oddity of the question. Zach lifted an eyebrow in confusion, crossing his arms. "I work on the wharfs in my village, where I spend hours each day lifting containers full of lobster and fish in the hot sun. The containers weigh hundreds of pounds each. And I do it all without magic."

Zach let out a huff of disdain, but wisely did not speak.

"Do you know why I'm telling you all this, you great cowardly dope?" Seamus asked, but it was not to get an answer. "I'm telling you, because now that you've deserted us, if I find out you've so much as breathed a word about the DA to anyone outside of it, I will destroy you. And trust me, I have my ways of knowing. Understood?"

Throughout this, Smith's face had remained hard, though Seamus was sure he detected a flicker of fear in his eyes upon hearing the word destroy. Maybe it was a bit much – Seamus had always had a flair for the dramatic – but it was, well, true. His muscles had been hardened by summers spent doing heavy lifting by the water with fishermen who knew nothing of magic and dirty blood. In brute strength, Seamus definitely led their group, followed by beaters Terry Boot and Ritchie Coote, and Su Li, who was actually trained in hand-to-hand combat.

"Your coin, please," Seamus said, and grabbed the flash of gold from Smith's hand when he saw it. "Goodnight, now." And Seamus stepped around Zacharias Smith and began running away. If Smith was going to get caught, he didn't want to be anywhere near him.

::

Finally, breathing hard and sweating – the seventh floor had never seemed so far away – Seamus reached the room without any further incident. He thought he'd heard something near the fifth floor, but had quickly determined it was just Peeves floating around nearby, humming a dirty ditty to himself, unaware of the student passing below him. He slipped in and undid his Disillusionment to the sound of soft, worried chatter.

"It was you, then?" Ginny said when he entered and turned to inspect the room. Whoever had gotten here first had definitely not known what the room was to be used for, but it had transformed itself into a suitable meeting room, with seemingly just enough couches and chairs for their smaller group, a chalkboard and a table at the end of the admittedly cosy room. He pulled out a green apple and started eating it.

The others, still mostly clad in pyjamas and sweats, turned to look at him just as Susan jumped up from her seat and ran to him.

"Seamus!" she cried. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what's gotten into him…" She was wringing her hands in anxiety, and Seamus saw Hannah sitting in a corner with Neville, their heads bowed together and seemingly lost in discussion.

"What's this about, then?" Terry said. He gestured around the room. It was obvious that he hadn't called any younger than fifth year, and then there were only two. "What's going on?"

Seamus clasped Susan on the shoulder and looked around, counting quickly in his head. It seemed everyone was there but Smith, and Leanne Cooper, who had been sick in the infirmary all weekend. He made his way to the front of the room and the talking quietened to silence by the time he'd sat on the table and crossed his arms. Neville looked truly puzzled, tugging at the collar of his flannel shirt, and Ginny just seemed quietly suspicious, mirroring him with her arms tight across her chest.

Seamus looked at each face before taking a deep breath and beginning.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you all at night, but I felt it couldn't wait. I've got two pieces of news, and I can't say either are very good."

Ginny tilted her head at him, standing near the couch where Padma and Parvati were sitting in matching nighties. "Go on," she said.

"The first is an internal matter. It seems we have a defector." Seamus flashed Smith's coin to the group.

"Who!" cried Lavender, and Anthony swore loudly.

"It's Zach," Hannah said glumly, which sparked mutters of indignation from the gathering. Zacharias Smith wasn't exactly a likeable person, arrogant and whingey at the best of times, but his family had influence and he had been an added wand, so it was a loss.

Ginny lifted up a hand to silence them. "Let him talk," she said firmly, and they stopped speaking so immediately, it was like she'd cast a charm to quiet them.

"Yes, well, I've spoken to him, and I think he understands not to tell anyone about us," Seamus said. "However," he continued, seeing Anthony's mouth open in protest, "I think it's best if we find a way to assure ourselves of his secrecy. And while we're at it, of everyone's. It's too dangerous at this point to not have insurance."

Anthony closed his mouth and nodded.

"Padma, Michael, that's your homework," Neville said from the corner, and the two acquiesced. "And for the second bit of news?"

"You can't just leave it at that!" Terry said from the other corner. "We have to think of all the possible consequences, and what we can do about it now, and –"

"Then you can join Padma and Michael in finding a solution. Seamus?" Ginny's voice was tight.

"Right. Well, if you've noticed, I only called the prefects and the seventh-years tonight. That's because what I have to say affects prefects directly."

Someone gasped a very familiar gasp, and Seamus looked at Susan squarely in the eye. She could not hold his gaze and lowered hers, biting her lips and playing with her shirt, though he continued to stare at her, as if trying to read her thoughts, for ten seconds before continuing.

The exchange was not lost on the others.

"The Carrows," he began, looking slowly away from the woman, "have decided to ban all but Slytherin prefects from doing rounds, giving out detentions and having control over House Points, beginning Wednesday morning."

"Fuck," Anthony swore as Ernie yelled out a wordless cry. Hortense Cooper, the younger sister of Leanne and a fifth-year Ravenclaw prefect, had wide eyes as her hands flew to her mouth.

"I'm sure you will all understand the implications of this soon enough, and I don't just mean that you won't get to use your fancy bathroom anymore," Seamus said.

"How did you find this out?" Ernie asked hoarsely.

"That… is none of your concern. What matters is that I did find out, and I need all of you to watch out for the younger students more than ever. They might not understand what the loss of prefects we trust means, but you all do, and I need you to make sure they stay out of trouble. And same goes to you all. Be on your guard."

Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Gryffindor prefects wouldn't penalize a first-year for walking around with their shirt not tucked in, or for loitering in the halls, or for bumping into Head Girl Pansy Parkinson, but the Slytherin prefects sure as hell would.

Heads nodded in understanding around the room.

"We need a new watch system," Neville said. "Say… All right, say we have one person from each house on duty at night. I don't mean to patrol or anything, they can still sleep, but it'd just one person a student can contact if anything happens, one of us."

"Good idea," Anthony said.

"Splendid idea," Ernie echoed, somewhat more pompously. Around the small room, there were sounds of agreement.

"I'll make the schedule if you want," Parvati said. "I'll just get you all to write down your names, before we leave—"

"No," Seamus said suddenly, brandishing his half-eaten and browning apple at her, "no names. If that list, or that schedule, falls into the wrong hands, then we're all fucked. Everyone think of a codename, we'll use those. We'll tell everyone Tuesday at the meeting."

Secretly, Seamus quite liked the idea of codenames, and he'd been thinking of a possible one for himself since the previous night. Anthony looked delighted too.

"Now," he said slowly, "I'd like to know just what motivated our Carrow Overlords to do this. Susan, I think you might have some idea?"

She looked down at her hands once more as the others turned toward her. "I may… I may have switched around the patrol schedule to suit the DA better…"

"It's not just Susan, I gave Nott a detention with McGonagall the other day," Ernie said sheepishly, with none of his previous snob.

"He's Head Boy!" Lavender exclaimed.

"Well, he was being a prat," said Ernie as if it was a perfectly good excuse. And in any other circumstance, it would have been a perfectly good excuse, but not in this circumstance.

"I Confunded a couple Slytherin prefects, Vaisey and Greengrass, the other night when they almost ran into us on our way here," Padma said as he sister looked at her incredulously, "and I guess all they could remember was that it was a prefect, because we got an earful about it the next day, but they couldn't blame anyone."

"That was you?" Anthony said, aghast. "Well, I've been giving a few points extra to Ravenclaw every time the Carrows take some for no reason."

"Same here," Hannah muttered as Jack Sloper, sixth-year Gryffindor prefect, winced and nodded.

"It seems we've solved that mystery," Ginny said dryly.

"Guess so. Just be more careful from now on, all right?" Seamus sighed and yawned.

"Anything else, Shay?" Neville asked, and when Seamus shook his head, he turned to the group. "You're all free to go after you write down your codenames for Parvati. Someone catch up Leanne, yeah?"

"Michael, can I talk to you for a minute before you go?" Seamus said as the others took their turns writing on a piece of paper Parvati had produced from thin air and then slipping out the door to wherever the room would let them out tonight. Neville looked at Seamus quizzically but Hannah pulled him away before Seamus could even dismiss his worries.

"Of course," Michael said softly, walking to where Seamus was standing near the table. "What can I do for you?"

Seamus had deliberately asked only Michael to stay back – he couldn't risk Padma telling Parvati or Lavender what Seamus was going to ask.

"When you're doing that research, mind trying to find a spell for me? It's—"

He proceeded to explain the clover and the message he'd received, though he was careful to say only the basics and not give out any details.

"I've never heard of it," Michael said, "though I'll certainly look."

Seamus suddenly remembered Zabini's faint foreign accent, and the tales about the beautiful Rosalia Zabini, who had married seven men, men who had left behind large sums of gold upon their untimely deaths.

"If it helps, try looking for something Italian."

Michael tilted his head to the right and looked past Seamus, as if thinking deeply. "Italian? Interesting. I'll get back to you as soon as I can," he said, and Seamus shook his hand.

They lined up behind the few others left, each taking their turn to write down something hastily. When came Seamus' turn, he looked down the list of names - he saw Nightingale, which must have been Lavender, General, which wasn't much of a codename for Neville but at least it was the truth, Knight, which sounded suspiciously like Ernie, Ruby and Sapphire had to be the Patil twins, and the others, Seamus didn't recognize instantly. Michael had written his, Arrow, in precise, fine lettering.

He and Parvati were left alone now, and she was yawning hugely, so Seamus had to come to a decision. He thought of what he had been doing in the past week: sneaking around, breaking codes, keeping secrets... It was different than what he was used to, as Dean had always called him an open book, but it wasn't bad different. It felt thrilling, it felt like he was part of an enormous riddle he could unravel if he worked on it long enough.

"Seamus?" Parvati said, tapping the parchment. She had dark circles under her eyes, and Seamus knew he did not look any better. He took the quill and quickly wrote the first thing that came to mind. Foxtail.

Satisfied, he and Parvati slipped into the dark corridors, Gryffindor Tower calling their name.