"So what's this place you've heard of?" Hermione asked.
Jade blinked, a little nervous. She wasn't sure if the place was even real. Her source was not the most reliable. "It's called the Room of Requirement. It changes to fit your needs, and those you do not want to find it - won't."
Hermione blinked. "That seems too good to be true."
"How did you find out about it?" Emma asked curiously.
"From my sister. Who heard it from Luna Lovegood," she added honestly.
Hermione frowned. "Luna Lovegood?" She turned to Harry worriedly.
"This room isn't just some mad idea of Luna's; Dumbledore knows about it too, he mentioned it to me at the Yule Ball."
Jade was surprised, and Hermione's expression cleared. "Dumbledore told you about it?"
"Just in passing," Harry said, shrugging.
Hermione didn't have any other protests. "Where can we find it?" She looked at her pocket watch. The meeting was supposed to start at eight.
"I can take you there," a dreamy voice twinkled.
The group turned to see Irene and Luna walking towards them, though Irene quickened her pace so she could jump into Jade's arms. "J!"
Jade rolled her eyes. "Rene, get off. You're heavy." But she gave her baby sister a loving squeeze before dropping her back on the floor.
Luna led the way, and Jade saw Harry pull out an old piece of parchment and looked at it questioningly. Harry grinned and pulled it over so she could see as he whispered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," and tapped his wand to the blank space. Black ink spilled onto the parchment from seemingly nowhere. She watched with wide eyes as the splotches of ink formed into names and footprints. "Look here," he said to Jade. "Filch is on the floor."
"What about Umbridge?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"In her office."
They had supposedly reached their destination, and Luna said quietly, "You have to walk past this bit of wall three times and think about what you need."
Jade stared as Harry complied, his eyes narrowed at the wall in concentration. As he made his third walk, a black polished door formed itself into the stone. The others were hesitant, but Harry grasped the bronze handle and led the way in confidently. Jade's jaw dropped in awe as she stepped into the spacious room - silk cushions were scattered around the floor, and a shelf held number of instruments such as Sneakoscopes and Secrecy Sensors. Hermione found a bookshelf and excitedly took down Jinxes for the Jinxed.
There was a gentle knock on the door, and Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Parvati and Dean walked in. "Whoa. What is this place?" Before anyone could answer, more people began filing in. Jade happened to notice Zacharias Smith come in and greet Emma warmly. She wasn't sure if she imagined the coldness in Ron's eyes when he looked at them.
Jade sat next to Emma - who sat next to Ron, though neither looked at each other - and made sure Irene sat behind her. When every cushion was filled, Harry turned the key in the lock on the door. With the loud click, the guests fell silent. "So, this is the place we've decided to practice. It seems you find it okay -"
"Its fantastic!" Cho Chang exclaimed, leading to murmured agreements.
Upon seeing Harry's small smile in Cho's direction, Jade felt her insides burn and she glared at the ground. "Well I've been thinking of the stuff we ought to do here-" Harry began before a hand shot in the air. "What, Hermione?"
"I think we ought to elect a leader."
"Harry's leader," Jade said immediately, looking at Hermione curiously. She then made eye contact with Harry, whose face had gotten red. Was he nervous?
"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," Hermione explained. "It makes it formal and gives him authority. So everyone who thinks Harry should be our leader?"
It was unanimous, though Jade's and Cho's hands shot up first. Jade narrowed her eyes - though she denied it, she was feeling competitive.
"Right, er, thanks. And - what, Hermione?"
"I also think we ought to have a name," Hermione said brightly. "It would promote a sense of team spirit and unity, wouldn't it?"
"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?"
"Or maybe The Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.
Hermione frowned at him. "I was thinking something a little more subtle."
"What about the Defense Association?" Cho suggested. "The D.A. for short, so no one knows what we're talking about."
"The D.A.'s good," Ginny agreed. "But let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army since that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?" There was appreciative murmers and laughter at this.
"All in favor of the D.A.?" Hermione asked. "That's the majority. Motion passed!" She pinned the list of their names to the wall and wrote Dumbledore's Army across the top.
"Alright," Harry continued finally. "Shall we get to practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know its pretty basic, but found it very useful-"
"Oh, please," Zacharias Smith interrupted. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"
"I've used it against him," Harry said quietly. "It saved my life last June." The whole room was silent, even Zacharias, whose mouth had dropped open dumbly. "But if you think its beneath you, you can leave." No one moved.
"Alright, well I reckon we should divide into pairs and practice."
Hermione and Emma became partners, and Jade saw Emma shove Ron towards Zacharias. The two boys glared at each other. Jessica tapped Jade's arm, smiling. Jade smiled back, glad to have her friend here, even though she felt a bit guilty dragging her into this. They practiced on each other, each carrying out the spell fairly easily. Wandwork was something that came easily to her, along with potions - probably because they were both arts her mother had been training her in since her childhood. Mrs. Baem was really odd when it came to protecting herself. "I just want you to follow in my footsteps," she would always say. Jade didn't know what she meant by this, though she did wonder briefly as they practiced this defensive spell, why the majority of her mother's teachings had been offensive.
"You're doing great."
Jade dropped her wand and let out a small shriek at his voice. Blushing a deep and embarrassing red, she turned to face Harry. "Uh - uh, thanks."
He picked up her wand, giving it to her and moving his hand gently down to her wrist. He gave it a little roll, and she though her heart might pound out of her chest. "Just make sure go roll your wrist a little lighter. Don't be so tense."
"Thank you," she breathed and he moved away, leaving her blinking rapidly. She couldn't even snap herself out of it enough to tell Jessica to stop laughing.
As October turned to November, Emma felt her confidence in her defense skills growing. DA meetings left her feeling excited and encouraged, and almost safe. While of course she was no match for Voldemort himself, Emma was no longer worried about running into a death eater- she could defend herself.
On one particularly cold morning, Emma awoke in her bed in the girls dormitory, apparently the last one asleep. Hermione's bed was neatly made- she was refusing to allow the house elves to do one thing for her- and the others ruffled and empty. As she stood to dress, Emma realized that today was the day of the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match.
After Emma and Ron's awkward discussion about the kiss, things had been a bit different. They were still friends of course, but things tended to be more quiet and distant. It caused Emma's heart to ache, dully and continuously.
Emma pulled open her drawer, revealing piles of sweaters and shirts. Her hand reached for a maroon and gold sweater- Gryffindor colors- and she pulled the thick wool over her head, along with jeans and her robes. Emma glanced in the mirror. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that the sweater she wore had a large R on it- one of Ron's spares. Emma tucked gloves and a scarf into her pockets before rushing to join the others in the Great Hall.
Emma was probably the last person to arrive for breakfast that morning. As she walked up the isle to her spot at the Gryffindor table, she noticed a large amount of students (mostly Slytherins) were wearing crown shaped pins on their chests. She ignored them and took her seat next to Hermione, across from Ron and Harry.
Ron looked absolutely miserable. His skin was a sickly pale, his eyes downcast. "I must've been mental to do this," he said in a croaky whisper. "Mental."
"Don't be thick," Harry insisted.
Emma looked at Ron sympathetically. "You'll do fine."
He looked up at her with raised brows, his face tortured. "I'm rubbish," croaked Ron. "I'm lousy. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?"
"Get a grip," Hermione hissed. "You'll only make yourself play worse. And besides, Fred told me you made a nice save with your foot-"
"That was an accident," Ron whispered miserably. "I didn't mean to do it - I slipped off my broom when no one was looking and I was trying to get back on and I kicked the Quaffle by accident."
Emma and Harry exchanged a significantly worried look. If everything Ron was doing was an accident, how on earth would he help Gryffindor beat Slytherin?
"Listen," Emma sighed. "You just need to pretend no one is watching and act like you are practicing."
"Easy for you to say," Ron whimpered.
After a few more moments of Ron's miserable nervousness, Harry tugged him off to the Quidditch pitch. Emma and Hermione decided to follow, pulling on their gloves and scarves in preparation for the cold air outside.
As the pair walked between the tables in the Great Hall, Emma squinted her eyes to see what the crown pins said on the Slytherins' chests. With a sickening turn in her stomach, Emma realized they read: WEASLEY IS OUR KING.
Knowing that it wasn't a compliment, Emma hoped Ron hadn't caught sight of the pins. She and Hermione rushed down to the pitch, their heads ducked against the cold wind. The stands were beginning to fill with Gryffindor and Slytherin colors. Luna Lovegood stood next to Jade's sister, Irene, wearing a hat charmed to look like a lion roaring atop of her head.
Emma and Hermione were just past the entrance to the locker rooms when a voice sneered, "Why hello, Mudbloods."
Draco Malfoy wore his usual smug look, dressed in his Quidditch robes, his broom over his shoulder. "Do you like the pins we've made in support of Weazlby?" The crown shaped pin shone on his chest, right next to his prefect pin. "He's going to win the match for Slytherin."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Emma snapped, her face reddening. "Don't you have anything else better to do?"
"I suppose I dont, actually," Malfoy hissed. "Neither do you, I suppose, with all the time you spend with Weasley."
"Leave them alone, Draco," a familiar voice said coldly. Jade and Jessica had just arrived at the pitch, glaring at the pale boy, their faces icily disgusted.
"Stay out of this," Pansy Parkinson giggled from behind Draco, running her hand up his arm. "We don't need a couple of blood traitors stepping in."
Emma's hand shot like a bullet from her body, snatching the pin from Draco's robes, before she tugged Hermione up the steps to their seats. Emma rolled the pin between her fingers, her heart pounding. She hoped Ron wouldn't have a complete meltdown after seeing what everyone was wearing.
Emma craned her neck as the players, dressed in their house colors, came striding out onto the grass. Her eyes immediately found Ron. Even from her spot high in the stands, she could see his face was deathly pale. The captains shook hands before the players took off, Ron to the goal posts near Hermione and Emma.
Emma loved Quidditch, but this match was hard for her to focus on. The Quaffle bounced back and forth, luckily not yet towards Ron. "What's that?" Hermione whispered, turning an ear towards the Slytherin side of the pitch. "They're singing something."
"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."
Emma felt as though she would vomit. Ron seemed to not hear, and she hoped it remained that way.
"Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King."
Warrington, the huge boy from Slytherin, was pelting towards Ron, the Quaffle in his hands. Emma couldn't help herself from standing up. The Quaffle was thrown and- it slipped through Ron's hands, through a hoop. There was a groan from the Gryffindors and a shrill cheer from the Slytherins. Emma could see Jade and Jessica across the pitch, however, the only two Slytherins not singing and without pins.
"WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN, WEASLEY IS OUR KING."
The rest of the match went by in a blur. Ron let in 3 more scores before, to the great relief of Gryffindors (and to the seeming delight of Jade) Harry beat Draco to the snitch, winning the match. The stands began to filter out, not before another malicious round of "Weasley is Our King."
Emma and Hermione were walking down the steps when they heard a commotion on the pitch. As they watched, Harry and George were sprinting towards Malfoy, each throwing a punch. There were shrieks and whistles blown before the boys were drug apart. Emma felt a bit of satisfaction, hoping George had broken Malfoy's nose.
Emma and Hermione made their way out of the pitch and waited near the locker room doors. The Gryffindor Quidditch team slowly filed out, minus Harry and George. When Fred came out looking worried, Hermione shot Emma and apologetic look before following him.
After a few more minutes, Ron emerged. Emma closed in on him, pulling him into a tight hug. "You did brilliant."
"No I didn't," Ron said monotonously. Emma let go and tried to match his fast pace up the hill to the school.
"You could have done better, but it wasn't dreadful."
Ron spun on his heel, looking angry. "Of course, it was all my fault that they scored. Did you ever think that maybe if Fred and George had done better they wouldn't have made it to the hoops? Or if the other Chasers had taken the ball I wouldn't have had to tried to save the shots?"
Emma didn't know what to say. "Ron-"
"You don't ever look at things from other perspectives. Maybe I'm not that bad," he snapped, his face flushing. Emma felt tears building in her eyes. "Why don't you go talk to Zacharias about it," Ron mumbled, before rushing away, leaving Emma alone.
