Okay, we've crossed 60 reviews, so as I promised, here's your 4000 word chapter! (P.S, thanks to everyone who has voted, and reviewed. And finally, WhiteWinterStar and RanDomthoughtS! You two get to choose a major change as long as it doesn't interfere with my prophecy, ahem! Those who have voted for option three, remember, it will be neither option 1 (Nico died, then comes back to life) or option 2 (Nico simply dies). So, if you don't die, but also don't come back to life after you die, what do you do? (Mysterious, eh?)

Hermione Granger was the brain of the team. So naturally, when Harry had said 'not as important as this' she thought he had no idea what was going on. Well, of course he didn't! Days ago, back in the library, when Hermione had picked up that book, she had found an outlined potion. 'Persopheous.' It shocker her because a) Persopheous was considered a very advanced dark potion, and b) no one, no one, not even the bravest Gryffindors dared to mark a book, not when Pince was there glaring at them with her narrowed eyes that seemed to say, 'damage that book and you're sheesh-kebab'.

Naturally, Hermione put it down quickly before she could get blamed for something she didn't do, but not before reading the enitre three-pages description about Persopheous.

The Persopheous Di, or the Persopheous potion, is a potion used to pry the mind of a drinker. A bonding curse is recited, and two individuals drink two equal quantities of the potion. The first drinker, the controller, has access to all the the second drinker, the victim's thoughts, memories, and visions. They may also control their actions occasionally. If a victim of the potion tries, in any circumstances, to contest with the potion, they feel physical exhaustion or nausea. Death due to these potions has occurred several times.

Persopheous potions are usually preferred above Imperious curses since they leave their victim emotionally scarred , and are almost never detectable. Hence, they have been used to spy on enemies during wars and rebels. There is no counter-potion to the Persopheous potion, and it cannot be stopped unless the controller willingly lets go of their victim, or unless the controller ceases to exist.

This potion, advanced as it is, contains seven hundred and twenty three ingredients, and they are as follow...

It took Hermione barely a minute to come to her conclusion. And then, she felt shocked. More than that. But she knew she couldn't confide in anyone, not until she got to the bottom of this. So, the past few days, she had been researching, keeping an eye out for Briana, (If that was even her real name!), and locking herself in the girl dormitory, reading, thinking, and trying to decided what she had to do. She, of course, wanted to tell Dumbledore. But, what exactly would he do, and how exactly would she tell him?

So Hermione decided she needed a better way to analyze Briana's moves. And honestly, she wanted to do this for a while. One, they needed good Defense Against The Dark Arts, with what was going to come up in the next few days. Two, it was the best way to get the school together. Hermione had a few people in mind for it, too.

Their next Hogmeades trip was this weekend. So that day, at lunch, when Hermione wanted to do some last-minute checks, Harry and Ron had broke the news. to her.

So, here she was, curling up in the Common Room for the first time in what seemed was forever, talking about the so called 'prophecy' in whispered voices.

"Alright," Hermione finally said, looking at the piece of paper she had. "So, this prophecy is,

"Hogwarts, Beware the curse of the desperate one.

For it will cause pain known by none,

A choice determines the known one's fate,

Albeit the chooser's path is dark.

Brave one, take heed of the Shadow's aim,

For that is whom the cloaked-one blames.

Poison shall flow through the blessed one's soul,

Despair to heal, excluding death's present, sole.

One shall die, and the other shall survive,

But with love, unknown, the previous one thrives."

"Quite obviously, there are seven people that play a role. The desperate one, the known one, the chooser, the Shadow, the cloaked-one, the brave one, and the blessed one. Or, I don't know, maybe one plays more than a role."

"And who do you think these people are?" Ron asked, staring at the prophecy carefully. Hermione sighed. "Divination is a tricky branch of magic, Ron. Prophecies, on the other hand, are the only accurate individual. But a prophecy has to be completed once it's given out. And it can end in many ways. But here's my take on it: The first two lines indicate that there is someone within Hogwarts who's has a curse, somewhat. Not like the curse you cast with your wand, Ron," Hermione explained, seeing the look on Ron's face.

"The kind of curse that's a burden." Hermione bit her lip. She had a feeling she knew what the desperate one was.

"I'm not sure, but that's always one possibility." she said. "The known one...this one is confusing. It could mean You-Know-Who?" Hermione suggested, but it was more of a question. Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"What choice would determine his fate?" Harry wondered. Hermione sighed in frustration. She hated not knowing things. "I said, it could mean him, Harry. But it could mean a lot of things. The known one...It could mean you, Harry. You're too known for your own good."

That sort of struck Harry. He quickly shook his head in denial. "I don't even want to know anymore." He muttered, and Hermione felt a little sympathy for Harry.

"Let's move one, then." She suggested. "The brave one...this could be any Gryffindor, or maybe not. It could mean a staff member, or another person we don't know about. But the line says 'beware the Shadow's aim'. Why do I feel that it's 'Shadow' with a capital 'S'?" Hermone muttered, mostly to herself.

Ron and Harry shared a look. "Death Eaters?" they suggested. Hermione shrugged. "Again, that's always a possibility. But still, it doesn't make much sense once you think about it. It says Shadow. Something about that doesn't seem right. Maybe it's a name?" Hermione looked at her two companions, willing them to contribute.

Ron, instead, started laughing. "What kind of parent would name their kid 'Shadow'?" Harry smiled. "That's even worse than' Dudley'." Harry agreed.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched slightly. "Yes, it is. But it could be a title of some sorts. Anyway," Hermione said, straightening up.

"There's also the cloaked-one."

"Half the population of Hogwarts have cloaks, including Harry." Ron pointed out.

"Assuming that the prophecy's refering to anyone in Hogwarts, then yes. But it might not. There's always a possibility."

Ron scrunched up his face in confusion. "Are you saying that Muggles may be involved?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not likely, no. But that's not what I was thinking. There are a lot of magical schools out there. You know, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and even Nico's school, although I don't remember him mentioning a name. Or maybe it's just...oh, alright. I'm not sure. It's confusing."

Harry though for a second. "Well, whatever this prophecy means, it's not good news." He muttered. Ron nodded.

Hermione thought, for a brief second, if it would be good to tell Ron and Harry about her suspicions, but quickly dismissed her thought. All in due time.

"That's right, Harry." she said. "Prophecies are quite...manipulating, from what I've read about them. They might take years, or even decades to be complete, you know?" Hermione stood up, and dusted her robes.

"Hey," Ron protested, looking flustered. "You haven't explained all the lines yet!" But Ron's eyes told her that it wasn't the only reason he didn't want her to leave.

"As I said, it better be left alone." Hermione said firmly. "Harry, I want you to meet me in the Hogs Head next Hogmeades trip, you too, Ron." It was more like a demand, than a request, really. But danger was closing; Hermione just knew it. And the least they could do was help their classmates, and anyone else get through it. Hermione smiled at him. "I'll be there with a few people."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nico's bad mood lasted right until Hermione Granger ran up to him at breakfast. Funny. He'd been searching for her himself. But not anymore, really. With all the pressure, he'd almost forgotten about the 'Briana' frenzy. He felt kind of guilty about that, but then quickly shook it off. It wasn't his fault...Technically.

"Hi, Nico." She said, smiling at him. Nico smiled back, although his heart wasn't in it. Still, no need to ruin everyone else's mood.

"Hey," he greeted, trying to keep his worries out of his mind for a moment.

"Nico, there's a Hogmeades trip tomorrow. I'm calling a few people there." She glanced at the corner where Harry and Ron sat. "Tell me, Nico. Do you really think Umbridge fits for a Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher?"

Caught off guard by the question, Nico quickly shook his head. Hermione smirked at him approvingly. "Good to know. Tomorrow, at the Hogs Head." Before Nico could ask anymore questions, Hermione ran off to the Ravenclaw table and started talking with someone there.

Nico considered his options. Well, obviously, Harry was doing something. And...Nico was sent to protect him, wasn't he? Nico hadn't really planned on going to Hogmeades, but now that it was recommended, why not? If it was an anti-Umbridge sort of club, then Nico would make sure his name was the first on the list.

-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O

The next day, at the Hogs Head, Harry and Ron were patiently waiting for Hermione to come and tell them about why in Merlin they were there. And when Hermione really did come, panting, eyes wide, but with a triumphant look on her face, Harry and Ron couldn't help but wonder what she was up to.

'I was wondering,' Hermione said suddenly, 'whether you'd thought any more about Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry.'

'Course I have,' said Harry grumpily, 'can't forget it, can we, with that hag teaching us - '

'I meant the idea Ron and I had - ' Ron cast her an alarmed, threatening kind of look. She frowned at him, '- Oh, all right, the idea I had, then - about you teaching us.'

Harry's head snapped up. "Wait, what do you mean, me teaching you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at his surprise. "I mean, literally. Ron and I-" Ron glared at Hermione. "Fine, fine. I had been thinking about it, and really, Harry. We need a good Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher."

"Yes, we do!" Harry agreed frantically. "But who said I could teach DADA?"

Hermione put her hands on her hips. She huffed. "Well, we-" Cue Ron's glare. "-I think it's a good idea. Come on, Harry. Who suit this more than you do?"

"Everyone."

Hermione huffed again. "Well, I called everyone. Too bad if I had to tell them you refused, huh?"

Harry paused. He made a face so confused that Ron had to snort that it. "What do you mean, called everyone?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just a few people. Including Cho Chang." She smirked at him. Harry felt the redness creeping into his cheeks.

'I dunno,' said Harry, playing for time. He looked up at Ron.

'I thought it was a good idea from the start,' said Ron, who seemed keener to join in this conversation now that he was sure Harry was not going to start shouting again.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

'You know that I think of it just being a load luck, don't you? All the DADA stuff I've done?'

'Yes, Harry,' said Hermione gently, 'but all the same, there's no point pretending that you're not good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, because you are. You were the only person last year who could throw off the Imperious Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't, Viktor always said - '

Ron looked round at her so fast he appeared to crick his neck. Rubbing it, he said, 'Yeah? What did Vicky say?'

'Ho ho,' said Hermione in a bored voice. 'He said Harry knew how to do stuff even he didn't, and he was in the final year at Durmstrang.'

Ron was looking at Hermione suspiciously.

'You're not still in contact with him, are you?'

'So what if I am.?' said Hermione coolly, though her face was a little pink. 'I can have a pen-pal if I - '

'He didn't only want to be your pen-pal,' said Ron accusingly.

Hermione shook her head exasperatedly and, ignoring Ron, who was continuing to watch her, said to Harry, 'Well, what do you think? Will you teach us?'

'Just a few people, yeah?'

'Well,' said Hermione, looking a mite anxious again. 'Well . . . now, don't fly off the handle again, Harry, please . . . but I really think you ought to teach anyone who wants to learn. I mean, we're talking about defending ourselves against V-Voldemort. Oh, don't be pathetic, Ron. It doesn't seem fair if we don't offer the chance to other people.'

Harry considered this for a moment, then said, 'Yeah, but I doubt anyone except you two would want to be taught by me. I'm a nutter, remember?'

'Well, I think you might be surprised how many people would be interested in hearing what you've got to say,' said Hermione seriously. 'Look,' she leaned towards him - Ron, who was still watching her with a frown on his face, leaned forwards to listen too -"I'll be back in a second."

Hermione ran out of the door as quickly as she'd walked in. Ron looked at Harry, then shook his head. "She's mental." he said. Harry had the feeling he was still mad at Hermione about Viktor Krum.

In a fraction of a second, Hermione walked in again, looking please with herself.

First came Neville with Nico, Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with (Harry's stomach did a back-flip) Cho and one of her usually-giggling girlfriends, then (on her own and looking so dreamy she might have walked in by accident) Luna Lovegood; then Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, Colin and Dennis Creevey Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff girl with a long plait clown her back whose name Harry did not know; three Ravenclaw boys he was pretty sure were called Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Terry Boot, Ginny, closely followed by a tall skinny blond boy with an upturned nose whom Harry recognized vaguely as being a member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and, bringing up the rear, Fred and George Weasley with their friend Lee Jordan, all three of whom were carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko's merchandise.

'A few people?' said Harry hoarsely to Hermione. 'A few people?'

'Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular,' said Hermione happily. 'Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?'

The barman had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. Possibly, he had never seen his pub so full.

'Hi,' said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly, 'could we have . . . twenty-six Butterbeers, please?'

The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in something very important, he started passing up dusty Butterbeers from under the bar.

'Cheers,' said Fred, handing them out. 'Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these . . .'

Harry watched numbly as the large chattering group took their beers from Fred and rummaged in their robes to find coins. He could not imagine what all these people had turned up for until the horrible thought occurred to him that they might be expecting same kind of speech, at which he rounded on Hermione.

'What have you been telling people?' he said in a low voice. 'What are they expecting?'

'I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got to say,' said Hermione soothingly; but Harry continued to look at her so furiously that she added quickly, 'you don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first.'

'Hi, Harry' said Neville, beaming and taking a seat opposite him. Nico waved to him when he noticed Harry's eyes diverted to his direction.

Harry tried to smile back, but did not speak; his mouth was exceptionally dry. Cho had just smiled at him and sat down on Ron's right. Her friend, who had curly reddish-blonde hair, did not smile, but gave Harry a thoroughly mistrustful look which plainly told him that, given her way, she would not be here at all.

In twos and threes the new arrivals settled around Harry, Ron and Hermione, some looking rather excited, others curious, Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. When everybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out. Every eye was upon Harry.

'Er,' said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. 'Well - er - hi.'

The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.

'Well . . . erm . . . well, you know why you're here. Erm . . . well, Harry here had the idea - I mean' (Harry had thrown her a sharp look) 'I had the idea - that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts - and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us - '(Hermione's voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident) ' - because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts - ' ('Hear, hear,' said Anthony Goldstein, and Hermione looked heartened) ' - Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands.'

She paused, looked sideways at Harry and went on, 'And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells - '

'You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?' said Michael Corner, who was watching her closely.

'Of course I do,' said Hermione at once. 'But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defense because . . . because . . .' she took a great breath and finished, 'because Lord Voldemort is back.'

The reaction was immediate and predictable. Cho's friend shrieked and slopped Butterbeer down herself; Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch; Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. Nico's eyes glowed with strange interest, like he finally figured out why he was here with them. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry.

Well . . . that's the plan, anyway,' said Hermione. 'If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to -

'Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?' said the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice.

'Well, Dumbledore believes it - ' Hermione began.

'You mean, Dumbledore believes him,' said the blond boy, nodding at Harry.

'Who are you?' said Ron, rather glared at the boy.

'Zacharias Smith,' said the boy, 'and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back.'

'Look,' said Hermione, intervening swiftly, 'that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about . '

'It's OK, Hermione,' said Harry.

It had just dawned on him why there were so many people there. He thought Hermione should have seen this coming. Some of these people - maybe even most of them - had turned up in the hopes of hearing Harry's story firsthand.

'What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?' he repeated, looking Zacharias straight in the face. 'I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone.'

Harry could have sworn he saw Nico nodding at him approvingly.

The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke. Harry had the impression that even the barman was listening. He was wiping the same glass with the filthy rag, making it steadily dirtier.

'Look,' Nico said, joining the conversation again. 'I wasn't even here last year. And I honestly don't care what you were told or what you want to know. I want to stop considering Defense Against The Dark Arts looking at your book and getting detention from an old toad dressed in pink.'

A few snickers from the crowd.

Zacharias said dismissively, 'All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know - '

"If you want to know how anyone died, then Harry can't help you." Nico Di Angelo snapped at Zacharias. Harry smiled at him, feeling grateful.

So,' said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. 'So . . . like I was saying . . . if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet and where we're going to - '

'Is it true,' interrupted the girl with the long plait down her back, looking at Harry, 'that you can produce a Patronus?'

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.

'Yeah,' said Harry slightly defensively.

'A corporeal Patronus?'

The phrase stirred something in Harry's memory.

'Er - you don't know Madam Bones, do you?' he asked.

The girl smiled.

'She's my auntie,' she said. 'I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So - is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?'

'Yes,' said Harry.

'Blimey, Harry!' said Lee, looking deeply impressed. 'I never knew that!'

'Mum told Ron not to spread it around,' said Fred, grinning at Harry. 'She said you got enough attention as it was.'

'She's not wrong,' mumbled Harry, and a couple of people laughed.

'And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?' demanded Terry Boot. That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year . . .'

'Er - yeah, I did, yeah,' said Harry.

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled; the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks and Lavender Brown said 'Wow!' softly. Harry was feeling slightly hot around the collar now; he was determinedly looking anywhere but at Cho. His eyes fell on Nico Di Angelo, who looked like the world 'basilisk' brought bad memories to him.

'And in our first year,' said Neville to the group at large, 'he saved that Philological Stone - '

'Philosopher's,' hissed Hermione.

'Yes, that - from You-Know-Who,' finished Neville.

Hannah Abbott eyes were as round as Galleons.

'And that's not to mention,' said Cho (Harry's eyes snapped across to her; she was looking at him, smiling; his stomach did another somersault) 'all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year - getting past dragons and merpeople and Acromantula and things . . .'

There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table. Harry's insides were squirming. He was trying to arrange his face so that he did not look too pleased with himself. The fact that Cho had just praised him made it much, much harder for him to say the thing he had sworn to himself he would tell them.

'Look,' he said, and everyone fell silent at once, 'I . . . I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but . . . I had a lot of help with all that stuff . . .'

'Not with the dragon, you didn't,' said Michael Corner at once. 'That was a seriously cool bit of flying . . .'

'Yeah, well - ' said Harry, feeling it would be churlish to disagree.

'And nobody helped you get rid of those Dementors this summer,' said Susan Bones.

'No,' said Harry, 'no, OK, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is - '

'Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?' said Zacharias Smith.

'Here's an idea,' said Ron loudly, before Harry could speak, 'why don't you shut your mouth and let Harry speak?"

'Yes, well, said Hermione hastily, moving on . . . the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?'

There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folded his arms and said nothing, though perhaps this was because he was too busy keeping an eye on the instrument in Fred's hand.

'Right,' said Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. 'Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week - '

'Hang on,' said Angelina, 'we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice.'

'No,' said Cho, 'nor with ours.'

'Nor ours,' added Zacharias Smith.

'I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone,' said Hermione, slightly impatiently, 'but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters - '

'Well said!' barked Ernie Macmillan, who Harry had been expecting to speak long before this. 'Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!'

He looked around impressively, as though waiting for people to cry 'Surely not!' When nobody spoke, he went on, 'I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells - '

'We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts,' said Hermione, 'is that she's got some . . . some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry'

Nico Di Angelo frowned. "Of course they'd fear him," Nico muttered. All the eyes in the room turned to him. He shrugged off the attention. "I mean, Dumbledore's got the next generation of wizards with him. If he could make you guys believe that Voldemort's back (and I'm not saying it's not true) then he'd have a lot of power at his hands."

Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybody except Luna Lovegood, who piped up, 'Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army'

'What?' said Harry, completely thrown by this unexpected piece of information.

'Yes, he's got an army of Heliopaths,' said Luna solemnly.

'No, he hasn't,' snapped Hermione.

'Yes, he has,' said Luna.

'What are Heliopaths?' asked Neville, looking blank.

They're spirits of fire,' said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever, 'great tall flaming creatures."

Nico looked at Luna, with something like surprise and amusement.

They don't exist, Neville,' said Hermione tartly.

''Oh, yes, they do!'' said Luna angrily.

''I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?'' snapped Hermione.

There are plenty of eye-witness accounts. Just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you - ''

'Hem, hem,' said Ginny, in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. ''Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and have defense lessons?''

''Yes,' said Hermione at once, ''yes, we were, you're right, Ginny.''

"Well, once a week sounds cool,'' said Lee Jordan.

''As long as - '' began Angelina.

''Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch,' said Hermione in a tense voice. 'Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet . . .''

This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.

''Library?'' suggested Katie Bell after a few moments.

''I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library,'' said Harry.

'Maybe an unused classroom?'' said Dean.

''Yeah,' said Ron, 'McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard.''

But Harry was pretty certain that McGonagall would not be so accommodating this time. For all that Hermione had said about study and homework groups being allowed, he had the distinct feeling that this one might be considered a lot more rebellious.

''Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere,'' said Hermione. ''We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting.''

She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something.

''I - I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think,' she took a deep breath, 'that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to.''

Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully wrote his signature, but Harry noticed at once that several people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list.

''Er . . .'' said Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchment that George was trying to pass to him, ''well . . . I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is.''

But Ernie looked hesitant about signing up, too. Silence enveloped them. A sigh sounded, and Harry turned to look at who had breathed in annoyance. Nico sat, at the far end of the pub, a cup of butterbeer in his hand. He put the butter beer down, then made his way to Fred.

"Full name or signature?" He asked, smiling at him innocently. Hermione grinned triumphantly as Fred handed him the parchment and the quill.

Nico offered the parchment to Ernie again, after writing his name. Ernie, looked slightly less anxious. ''I - yes, of course I'll sign.''

Nobody raised objections after Ernie and Nico, though Harry saw Cho's friend give her a rather reproachful look before adding her own name. When the last person - Zacharias - had signed, Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.

'Well, time's ticking on,' said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. ''George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later.''

In twos and threes the rest of the group took their leave, too.

"That went well!" Hermione said, grinning broadly as she watched the last person walking out.

Gosh! I just wrote a FIVE thousand word chapter! Alright, my next 4/5 thou. word chapter will be when I cross 100 reviews! Up until then, we'll have nice, normal, 1000/2000+ word chapters!

(I seriously love you guys)

-Turning off, Ambs.