A/N: Essentially, what you recognize belongs to the goddess that is J.K. Rowling, and what you don't belongs to insignificant little me.

•~0~•

Katie stalked into the common room, looking particularly furious. Genevieve's jaw dropped; she was covered in ink.

"What happened?"

"Peeves," Katie seethed.

"Say no more," Genevieve said. "Scourgify!"

The ink disappeared. Katie dropped into a nearby chair, muttering thanks.

"That good-for-nothing poltergeist, wish somebody'd expel him, do us all a favor . . ."

"What knows?" Genevieve said airily. "Maybe one day he'll be of use for something."

•~0~•

They plodded across the corridor of the seventh floor cautiously. A polished wooden door awaited them.

"I've passed this statue hundreds of times," Genevieve said, confused. "And I've never seen a door here! Except . . ."

The twins nodded. "The broom cupboard."

And, without further ado, they swept into the room.

Once everyone was there, Harry locked them in.

"Well. This is the place we've found for practices, and you've — er — obviously found it okay — "

"It's fantastic!" Cho complimented enthusiastically. Others agreed.

"It's bizarre," Fred commented. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George, Gen? But it was just a broom cupboard then . . ."

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" Dean Thomas asked, gesturing to a collection of Sneakoscopes and a Foe-Glass.

"Dark Detectors," Harry answered. "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fool . . . Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and — er — what, Hermione?" he asked with just a touch of exasperation as Hermione's hand shot into the air.

Genevieve figured this must be what it was like to be in classes with her.

"I think we ought to elect a leader," Hermione proposed.

"Harry's leader," Cho replied immediately.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," Hermione pressed on, unflustered. "It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So — everyone who thinks Harry ought to be leader?"

Everyone raised their hand without hesitation, though Zacharias Smith was less enthusiastic.

"Er — right, thanks," Harry said awkwardly. "And — what, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name. It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

Suggestions flooded in.

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?"

"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?"

"I was thinking," Hermione said, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, do we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association?" Cho said. "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," Ginny piped up. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

Genevieve laughed.

"All in favor of the D.A.? That's a majority — motion passed!"

Hermione scrawled DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY on the list of their names and pinned it to the wall.

"Right," Harry continued, "shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first think we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful — "

Zacharias Smith interrupted. "Oh please," he scoffed. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

Genevieve opened her mouth to retort, but Harry beat her to it, saying softly, "I've used it against him. It saved my life last June."

Smith made a movement much like a goldfish, opening and closing his mouth as though someone had used the Silencing Charm on him.

"But if you think it's beneath you," Harry went on, "you can leave."

Everyone remained on their cushions.

"Okay," Harry continued, "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

As there was an odd number of people, Genevieve partnered up with Fred and George. Once the room was effectively thrown into chaos, Genevieve beckoned the twins over to where Smith was partnered with Anthony Goldstein.

Expelliarmus! She Disarmed him without opening her mouth. As they were behind him, Smith had no clue what was happening.

"Brilliant!" Fred mouthed, casting the spell himself. They took turns disarming Smith until Harry made eye contact with them, looking amused despite himself.

"Sorry, Harry," George apologized. "Couldn't resist . . ."

After a while, Harry blew a whistle, which Genevieve didn't even know he had.

"That wasn't bad, but there's definite room for improvement. Genevieve, you seem to have got the spell down, would you come walk around the room and help everyone else?"

Genevieve nodded, smiling.

"All right," Harry said. "Let's try again . . ."

Genevieve patrolled the room, correcting gently some of the students. She made sure to berate Zacharias Smith.

"Your stance is all wrong," she said. "And you're not moving your wand right."

He glared at her. Genevieve smiled back sweetly.

Finally, Harry blew his whistle again and the group fell silent, looking at him.

"Well, that was pretty good, but we've overrun, wed better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?"

"Sooner!" Dean Thomas pleaded. Many others voiced similar opinions.

Angelina cut in. "The Quidditch season's about to start, we need team practices too!"

"Let's say Wednesday night then," Harry compromised, "and we can decide on additional meetings then . . . Come on, we'd better get going."

And, checking the Marauder's Map for nearby teachers, Harry allowed them all to leave in groups of three or four, and Genevieve, Fred, George, and Lee ducked out carefully and scampered away.

As Genevieve continued to attend D.A. meetings, even helping Hermione think up a way to contact the other members without drawing attention to themselves (fake Galleons with the Protean Charm), it was like, for one of the first times that year, she had something to look forward to, not to dread. They were defying Umbridge without her knowledge, and it gave Genevieve a kind of control over her life that Umbridge had worked so hard to take from them.

Quidditch season was also fast approaching, and the D.A. meetings were even paused in preparation. Ron had made the team, and even Fred and George had said he might make a good Keeper, even if he didn't live up to Wood. Then again, Wood was a bit Quidditch obsessed.

The day of the first Quidditch match, Ron was barely able to eat for nerves. After a while, Harry gave up goading him into it and they went down to the Quidditch pitch to get ready for the game.

Before they left, however, Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and said, "Don't let Ron see what's on those Slytherins' badges."

Genevieve glanced over to a passing and sniggering Slytherin, who was proudly wearing a crown-shaped badge that read WEASLEY IS OUR KING.

"What d'you reckon that means?" Genevieve asked Hermione softly.

"Nothing good," she replied grimly.

•~0~•

The game began, balls and players shooting into the air. Harry immediately began his search for the Snitch, the Slytherin slimeball doing the same.

Lee was commentating. "And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me — "

"JORDAN!" McGonagall shouted warningly.

"Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest — and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's — ouch — been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe . . . Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back ip the pitch and — nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinner and Spinnet's away — dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger — close call, Alicia — and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

Genevieve listened, her temper rising as the Slytherins sang:

Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King.

Weasley was born in a bin,

He always lets the Quaffle in,

Weasley will make sure we win,

Weasley is our King.

" — and Alicia passes back to Angelina!" Lee shouted hurriedly. "Come on now, Angelina — looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! — SHE SHOOTS — SHE — aaaah . . ."

Genevieve scowled as the Slytherin Keeper saved the goal. The Slytherins grew steadily louder. Genevieve found herself unable to concentrate on the game.

Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He always lets the Quaffle in,

Weasley is our King.

"I'd like to murder the lot of them," Genevieve growled.

Hermione sighed. "I know. And they're messing Ron up; he's just let the Slytherins score."

At long last, saving them all, Harry caught the Snitch, though he got hit by a Bludger afterwards. Ron slipped away from the field, and Genevieve couldnt see where he went.

Malfoy, meanwhile, was causing quite a scene. He must've been saying something bad, because Fred and George looked at though they wanted nothing more than to see him die a gruesome death at their hands, and only through Alicia, Angelina, and Katie holding Fred back and Harry restraining George did it not happen.

But then Malfoy said something else, and, before she knew it, Harry had released George and they were both marching furiously up to Malfoy. Genevieve watched in horror, unable to stop them.

Madam Hooch did it for her. She sent Harry and George away from the field and undoubtedly to McGonagall's office. Sure enough, McGonagall followed close behind, looking incensed. Genevieve and Hermione exchanged alarmed expressions. There was no way this was going to end well.