Chapter 8—

"Oh….oh my god," I moaned, thrashing like an eel on my bed, clutching at my abdomen. "Ow…ahhh…" Fay, Parvati and Lavender were clustered around me, looking alarmed. "D'you need us to call Madam Pomfrey, Gemma?"

"N-no, y-you go ahead, y-you're all going to be late, ahh, oh Merlin, it's just you-know-what, don't get her, she'll fuss….owww…just leave me alone…ahhh…" All three of them trooped out somewhat reluctantly, Lavender turning to get one last worried look at me before closing the door. Once they were out of earshot, I relaxed, panting slightly from exhaustion. It seemed like Narcissa's tactics had worked pretty well after all. I sat up and pulled a piece of parchment from under my bed, checking one last time to make sure that my target's free period would begin in five minutes.

I then pocketed my wand and tiptoed quietly out of my dormitory, past a group of frantically studying seventh-years and straight out of the portrait hole. As I strode along purposefully, I ran through the plan in my head for the umpteenth time. If I made a mistake, I would be presented with a giant ribbon on my head to Fenrir Greyback, and I was not going to ever let that happen.

Three minutes later, I arrived at the corridor leading to Ravenclaw Tower. There was no one in sight, so I quickly slipped into an alcove, concealed by a large, fancy tapestry. Minutes passed, but the person I was waiting for had yet to arrive. Sweat dripped from my brow and plopped onto the ground. What if she wasn't going to come? Oh please, Merlin, please let her appear now…

As though in answer to my prayers, Marietta Edgecombe came walking along, talking to an Asian girl whom I recognised as Cho Chang. My heart lurched. I had spent two hours a day practicing duelling over the holidays, but I didn't fancy my chances taking on two sixth-years at once, especially ones that had been personally trained by Harry Potter. There was no choice, though. Moving to the side of the alcove, I leaned forward, poking my wand out slightly.

"Mari!" Cho gasped. "I think I saw something red! Behind the tapestry!" To my surprise, however, Marietta reacted with disdain. "Oh, please," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're so paranoid nowadays, it's really annoying."

Her friend, however, was not listening. "Yellow wasn't Cedric's favourite colour," she whispered, her eyes huge and slightly unfocused. "Everyone thought so, because he was in Hufflepuff. But no. It was red. Cedric always said he loved it because it was s-so bright and f-full of life, just like him. But now he's gone a-and I'm not supposed to even be thinking of him because I'm sort of seeing Harry, but oh, I don't know anymore!" She burst into floods of tears and ran off in the other direction, sobs exploding from her throat. Marietta sighed and just continued towards her common room.

Seeing my chance, I pointed my wand at her, casting a full body-bind, then accio'ed her into the alcove before she could hit the floor. Marietta's eyes stared up at me, wide and terrified. Leaning down, I carefully pried her wand from her iron grip and kept both wands trained on her face as I released her from the curse. I'd thought that she would squeak and tremble in fear. Contrary to my expectations, she leapt up and lunged straight towards me, raking her fingernails down my face and attempting to wrest her wand from my hands. For a second, it felt as though a white-hot iron had been pressed against my cheek and I nearly blacked out. Fortunately, my training with Father kicked in. Acting purely on instinct, I grabbed a lock of her curly hair and yanked as hard as I could. She yelped, jerking her head back and a few strands ended up in my hands. Taking advantage of her shock, I hissed, "Confundus!"

Instantly, her eyes went blank and she stopped struggling, simply standing limply, gazing at me. I obliviated her, then proceeded to give my instructions. "You will tell Professor Umbridge of the time and location of the next DA Meeting. When asked for you motivation in doing so, you will tell her that your mother works at the Ministry and that you are greatly sorry for your disloyalty. You will avoid being seen on your way to the toad's office, and you will not tell anyone that I put you up to this. Now go." I placed one hand on her back and gently pushed her out of the alcove before she could gather her wits.

The next morning, I was awoken by someone shaking my shoulder violently. Vaguely, I heard shrill voices emphatically discussing something that I could not quite make out. Opening my eyes, I was not particularly surprised to see Lavender and Parvati standing next to my bed, looking disgruntled and perhaps a touch scandalised. I winced a little as I sat up, the movement sending a sharp jolt of pain through my cheek again. I deserved it for letting my guard down, though.

"You two," I sighed. "How many times have I told you not to wake me up just because of some shocking gossip that you're dying to tell me?" Instead of giggling vapidly like they usually did, the girls exchanged a significant glance. Uh oh. Had something happened with Seamus? My heart started to do an erratic tattoo as I ran through a list of girls he had been friendly with. Had he finally ceased to find me interesting?

In an unusually solemn tone, Parvati said quietly, "Gemma….we—the DA, that is, got found out. Marietta told on us. There was a showdown last night….Dumbledore's gone." My heart leapt. This was far better than I had hoped for.

Feigning shock and dismay, I exclaimed, "What?! Dumbledore? How in the name of Merlin did they get rid of him? Isn't he supposed to be the most powerful wizard in all of Wizarding Britain?"

"I don't know," Lavender murmured, looking downcast. "They say he knocked out a whole bunch of Ministry wizards and fled the school, but I honestly don't know how long he's going to last out there…. all the Aurors are combing the country for him. And Harry says Dumbledore's allies are decreasing by the day…they all think he's mad…"

"That's not the worst of it," Hermione Granger's voice rang out sharply from behind me. I jumped a little and turned to see her trembling with rage, holding a hairbrush as though it was a sword she wanted to skewer Marietta with. "We've got a new Head. And no, it's not McGonagall."

Umbridge. Oh, no.