"… because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."
Harry watched in extreme dislike as the frumpy woman dressed in her god awful, eye wateringly pink cardigan finished the last of her speech and sat down in her seat at the high table, a smug look on her pudgy face. Dumbledore slowly started politely clapping and was soon joined by the teachers and the few students who hadn't dozed off during her speech.
"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating." Dumbledore said, bowing to her. "Now, as I was saying…"
"Illuminating indeed." Hermione muttered, looking very disgruntled.
"You're not telling me you enjoyed that?" Ron asked incredulously. "I'm pretty sure I dozed off a few minutes in."
"I said illuminating not enjoyable."
"How so?"
"She prattled about a lot," Blaise explained. "But some of the things she said 'progress for progress' sake must be discouraged' and especially 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited' revealed the real reason she's here."
"Which is?"
"She's the Ministry's liaison," Hermione hissed through gritted teeth. "She's spying for them, reporting any behavior the Minister may deem as threatening to his position and subtly dealing with it."
"Why would Dumbledore hire her if it's so obvious that that's the only reason she's here?"
"They probably didn't give him much of a choice," Harry said. "Dumbledore has a lot of trouble finding a teacher for Defense because of the curse, the Ministry most likely stepped in and appointed a teacher for him."
"Well at least there's that," Draco said. "The curse will no doubt drive her off by the end of the year, I hope it's because of something horribly gruesome."
"Good morning," Harry smiled at his friends as he sat down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast the next morning, he received a chorus of mumbled greetings in response. "Everyone sleep all right?"
"As well as could be expected," Neville mumbled, between bites of his bagel. "Bit of tension in the dorm last night."
"Really? What happened?"
"Seamus had a go at you and Dumbledore, said the headmaster was losing his marbles and that you were a crazy, attention seeking prat."
"I was wondering why he's been shooting me odd looks ever since I sat down." Harry looked over to where the Irish Gryffindor was alternating between eating his breakfast and shooting glances at Harry.
"Yeah, his mum's been reading the Daily Prophet, and apparently she's believed every word of it."
Harry's brow furrowed. "But they haven't been saying much about me in the Prophet," he said. "Other than a few snide remarks and digs at my celebrity status."
"Yeah, but they've been saying horrible things about Dumbledore and his claims that Voldemort's back," Hermione said. "But everyone knows that it was you who first announced his return so they just figured that if Dumbledore's crazy then so are you. So with every article that slanders Dumbledore's name, people think of you and it destroys your reputation as well."
Harry snorted and shook his head. "Sheeple."
The group fell into silence as they ate their breakfasts and worked on fully waking up, they only roused from their semi-trances when they made a visit to their house tables to retrieve their schedules.
"What've we got?" Harry asked, after the group had reconvened at the Gryffindor table.
"Nev and I have History of Magic, double Potions and Defense with Slytherin, and Divination." Ron said, glancing carelessly at his schedule.
"Honestly, I don't see why you still take Trelawney's class," Hermione sniffed "It's a bunch of rubbish, you should join in Ancient Runes or maybe us in Arithmancy."
"I think it's a bit late for that," Neville said, pocketing his schedule. "Even if we did have the sudden desire to join either of those classes, which so far we haven't, we'd be starting with the third years, not the fifth."
"That shouldn't stop you! Both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy are fascinating subjects and are sure to help you later on in life, more than Divination anyway."
"We'll be sure to keep that in mind." Neville placated. "Now we best get a move on or we'll be late for class."
The first day of term began with little excitement, it started off with an hour and a half of History of Magic, followed by a break, then Potions, where, after being lectured about the importance of the OWLs, they brewed the Draught of Living Death. After that was lunch, followed by Ancient Runes; then came the class Harry had been both dreading and anticipating, Defense Against the Dark Arts
"Good afternoon, class!" Umbridge said, disgustingly cheerful as she entered the classroom. She was answered with few mumbled responses, but nothing more. "Tut tut, that won't do at all, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
Harry and Blaise exchanged amused glances as they and the rest of the class dutifully responded. "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge."
"There, now." Professor Umbridge smiled sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
That one sentence seemed to sum up the quality of the class. Umbridge started off the class by informing them that the DADA curriculum had been vastly improved into a "carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic", which basically meant that it was a dumbed down, theory only class created by the Ministry to prevent them from becoming threats in the future.
Umbridge had steamrolled over any questions or protests they may have had and had them write down the three course aims of the class, then they were assigned a chapter to read and ordered to remain silent for the rest of the period.
"I think this one trumps all three," Neville whispered to Harry when Umbridge looked particularly busy writing something out at her desk.
"What do you mean?" Harry whispered back.
"Hosting the soul of You-Know-Who on the back of their head terrible, so full of himself it's a wonder they can fit through the door with such a large ego terrible, or Death Eater in disguise terrible. This trumps all three. This is, without a doubt, the worse Defense Against the Dark Arts class I've ever attended."
Harry couldn't hold back his snort of amusement. "Give me psychopaths or Lockhart any day."
Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Mr. Potter?" Professor Umbridge asked, looking up from her desk.
"No, ma'am," Harry smiled sweetly. "Just talking to myself."
"About the book, I hope."
"Oh yes, Professor. I've already read this particular text before, but it's so good it's always worth another read."
Umbridge looked confused for a moment, but then an uncertain smile spread across her face "Yes, it is. Well, don't let me disturb you, get back to reading."
"That was disgusting," Draco murmured the moment Umbridge's attention was diverted.
"But it worked, didn't it?"
"That was the worst Defense class I've ever attended," Hermione scowled, slipping into a spot between Harry and Draco. "And we had Lockhart for Merlin's sake."
"And it's our O.W.L. year too," Draco said moodily. "How does she expect us to pass if we haven't practiced a single spell all year?"
"She is under the belief that as long as we pay attention, read that horrible book from cover to cover, and memorize the theory behind the spells, we should have no trouble performing them during the O.W.L.s."
"So the first time we'll be casting the spells is during the exams," Neville hissed.
"Exactly."
"Well, that's it, we're screwed."
"Nonsense," Harry said. "If she doesn't want to teach us, we can just teach ourselves. Honestly, how hard could it be?"
"That's a brilliant idea, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "We should start right away, there's not a moment to lose. But where will we practice? We can't very well start shooting off spells in the common rooms."
"We'll figure something out." Harry said. "The castle is enormous, I'm sure we'll be able to find one room we can use to train in."
"All right, I'll leave that to you, I'll start drawing up lesson plans, and research! I'll have to do tons of research to find the spells we'll need to learn and how to perform them. Oh, there's so much for me to do. I need to go to the library!" And with that, she ran off, leaving her friends watching her hasty retreat in amusement.
"Barking, that one is," Ron muttered as he pulled her untouched dinner plate closer to him. "Absolutely mad."
The Monday of the second week of term had Ron arriving at breakfast in a foul mood, the redhead was scowling fiercely, scaring several first years out of their wits, and treading a bit heavier than necessary. A slightly miffed looking Neville was walking beside him, murmuring what appeared to be consolations to his fellow Gryffindor.
"What's got your knickers in a twist, Weasley?" Draco asked, throwing a curious glance at the fuming teen.
"My brother," Ron snapped. "The prat had the nerve to write to me bad mouthing Harry."
"Seeing as you have a number of brothers, I'm afraid you're going to have to elaborate just a tad."
"Percy."
"Ah," Harry sighed, the rift between Percy and the rest of the Weasley's had taken its toll on the family, but none more so than Mrs. Weasley, "what is it he said?"
"Here," Ron pulled a slightly crumpled paper from his pocket and handed it to Harry, "see for yourself."
Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Blaise gathered closer to each other to read the somewhat lengthy letter as Ron and Neville began piling breakfast onto their plates.
Dear Ron,
I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister for Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect. I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the 'Fred and George' route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility...
The letter went on to "advise" Ron to keep far away from Harry, because "continuous fraternization with him could be detrimental to his future" and that even though Harry may be Dumbledore's favorite now (had Percy not been present when Harry had torn into the headmaster third year?), Dumbledore may not be in power for much longer. Percy also informed Ron that, should he find it difficult to distance himself from Harry because of his erratic and possibly violent behavior, or if he suddenly felt the urge to inform anyone what Harry was getting up to during the day, he should immediately go to Umbridge, who was apparently "a truly delightful woman".
"Well," Draco said, leaning back in his seat, "I never thought I'd see the day when a Weasley managed to come off as more pompous and full of shite than my father but," he gestured at the letter, "there it is."
Not even Ron could hold back a snort at that comment.
"He spoke an awful lot about some article in tomorrow's Prophet, was it?" Hermione asked.
"Today's Prophet," Ron said. "He sent that letter to me last night."
"I suppose we'll find out what he was talking about soon enough," the brunette said. "I subscribed to the Daily Prophet, it should be here any minute."
The group didn't have to wait long before the usual flock of owls flew into the hall, depositing letters, parcels, and newspapers all around the hall. When a large barn owl dropped a newspaper in front of Hermione, she eagerly snatched it up and flattened it on the table.
"Oh, well that picture's horrible enough to put me off my breakfast," Blaise muttered.
Plastered across the front page of the popular newspaper was a picture of Umbridge, decked out in her usual pink cardigan and girly black bow, she was smiling that sickening sweet smile of hers and waving at the camera.
"Ministry Seeks Educational Reform," Hermione read out loud. "Dolores Umbridge Appointed First Ever High Inquisitor."
"That doesn't sound good," Neville said moving closer. "What does it mean?"
Hermione's eyes darted across the paper, her expression growing more and more disgusted with every word she read. Finally she threw down the paper, practically spitting in anger. "The High Inquisitor," she snarled, "is the closest thing the Ministry can get to making Umbridge headmistress, without actually doing it. She'll have an unprecedented amount of power, almost as much as Dumbledore, she'll have the power to inspect the other teachers and, if she finds them lacking, dismiss them!"
Blaise looked horrified. "This is going too far!" he exclaimed. "The Ministry is going mad in their attempts to discredit Dumbledore. Slandering him in newspapers and taking away his fancy titles is one thing, but interfering in Hogwarts? This is our education we're talking about."
"Fudge made his choice last spring," Harry said, calmly buttering a crumpet. "And now he's doing everything in his power to make sure that his decision is the right decision."
"But it's not!"
The green eyed Slytherin shrugged "And he'll find that out sooner or later. There's absolutely nothing we can do about it except for grin and bear Umbridge's loathsomely boring classes, and learn all that she isn't teaching by our own study. And not just for the O.W.L.s, but for the real world, when Voldemort comes back, we'll need to be ready."
Ron sighed mournfully "I can already tell this is going to be a wonderful year."
After her appointment as High Inquisitor, Umbridge wasted absolutely no time in proving just how bad of an idea the appointment had been, namely through her classroom inspections. The first professor to be inspected was Trelawney, and, from what Ron and Neville, who had been present during the investigation, related, it hadn't gone too well. Trelawney was clearly nervous and stumbled over any questions Umbridge shot her way, and when she was asked by her colleague to make a prediction for her, the Divination teacher made a complete fool of herself.
Flitwick's inspection that same day went much better despite Umbridge's poorly concealed disdain toward the part-goblin professor. The High Inquisitor had been wildly pleased with Professor Grubbly-Plank's (who had been filling in for Hagrid during the man's mysterious absence) performance. But the most amusing of all the inspections so far, had been McGonagall's, the woman refused to be cowed by Umbridge's shiny new title and treated the woman with icy disdain. It no doubt lost her important points in Umbridge's books, but it was worth it to see the toad-like woman so flustered.
"So I finally finished plotting out the basic outline of our lesson plan, for our individual study," Hermione said happily one Saturday afternoon as she, Ron, Neville, Draco, Blaise, and Harry sat by the lake, enjoying the warm weather before it took a turn for the worse. "I was thinking we should start off with the basics, you know, review everything we did or should have learned from previous years, and then move on to this year's spell curriculum. I was also talking to the older students and most of them have agreed that the O.W.L.s put a lot of focus on protective and counter-jinxes, so we'll definitely have to work on those." The excitable brunette pulled out a worn notebook and thumbed through the pages. "I've created a list of all the spells we'll need to learn, as well as some good research books, and essay topics."
"Wait, essay topics?" Ron interjected. "What do we need those for?"
"This may come as a surprise to you, Ron, but essays usually come with a topic."
"Let me rephrase my question. Why do we need essays?"
"Essays help you get a better grasp on the spells we learn, as well as the theory behind them. We'll need to write at least a few if we want to actually learn anything."
"Oh come off it, Hermione," Ron exclaimed. "It's O.W.L. year we already have enough homework as it is, we'll find some other way to learn theory and all that rubbish."
"You're being ridiculous, Ron! A few extra essays wouldn't hurt. Back me up here, Harry!"
"Um…" Draco, Blaise, and Neville collapsed into fits of laughter as Harry struggled to find something to say that would pacify both Ron and Hermione. "Well the way I see it…we should…er…"
Luckily, he was saved from his harrowing dilemma by the very welcome arrival of Ginny and Luna. "Hi, you guys," Ginny said, coming to a nervous stop before the group, she and Luna received a chorus of greeting in response.
"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Harry asked, gesturing for the two girls to join them on the ground.
"Well, we're actually here because we need your help," Ginny said as she and Luna seated themselves on the ground. "We're learning how to summon things in Charms, but Luna and I just can't seem to get the hang of it."
"Whatever object I try to summon only makes it about halfway to me before it stops," Luna explained.
"And my object comes at me so fast I'm afraid it'll run me over."
"And you want our help learning how to cast the spell properly?"
Both girls nodded.
"Okay." Harry conjured a cushion, then banished it several hundred yards away. "Let me see you cast it, Ginny."
"All right." The redhead pulled out her wand and pointed it at cushion. "Accio Cushion." Immediately the cushion sped at her with such speed and force she was knocked onto her back.
Harry banished the cushion again. "Now you, Luna."
"Accio Cushion." This time, the cushion barely made it half of a meter before it fell pitifully back into the grass.
"All right," Harry said moving closer to the two girls, "you have the incantation and wand movement down, now it's just a matter of control. You're putting too much power behind your spell, Ginny, and, Luna, you're putting too little."
"How do we fix it?"
"It's easy enough to do, you just have to concentrate on your magic, feel the way it flows through you, and when you're about to cast a spell only release the amount you need to make it work, before putting a stopper on the rest."
"You said it was easy," Ginny deadpanned.
"Don't worry," Harry laughed. "It's a lot easier than I make it sound. So here's how you do it…"
For the next hour or so, Harry instructed the two younger students on how to both sense and control their magic. Unfortunately, he was so focused on the lesson he didn't see the contemplative look on Hermione's face that, if he had been looking, would have instilled a strong sense of foreboding in anyone who knew the girl.
"I've had the most fantastic idea."
Harry spared his grinning friend a lazy glance before looking back down at the book he'd been reading. "You say that as if it isn't a common occurrence."
Hermione paused, uncertain if she should be insulted by Harry's lack of enthusiasm or flattered by his offhand compliment. Eventually she decided it really didn't matter and quickly focused back on the cause of her enthusiasm. "Perhaps, but don't you want to know what it is?"
"Sure, but don't you think you should wait until the others get here?"
Hermione's enthusiasm faltered as she looked around the library and finally realized that only Harry and Blaise were present. "Where are they?"
"Draco went to the owlery to send his parents a letter," Blaise said. "Ron's got Quidditch practice, and Neville's caring for that plant he has. What's it called again?"
"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Harry muttered, flipping to the next page.
"Darn," Hermione muttered, "I wanted to tell you all at once, I hate repeating myself. Well, I guess we'll have to wait."
"Too bad."
"Well actually," the Ravenclaw amended, "dinner's about to start, if we head down there now we might be able to catch them." She snatched Harry's book from his hand and slammed it shut. "Let's go."
Harry groaned, already resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be getting much reading done tonight. "Fine, let's just go and get this over with."
Sullenly, he packed up his belongings and allowed Hermione to drag him and Blaise down to the entrance hall where they loitered by the staircase as they waited for the rest of their friends to arrive.
Draco was the first to show up, accompanied by Neville who was explaining to him the inner workings of some sort of exotic plant.
"What are you standing around out here for?" the blonde asked when Neville paused to take a breath.
"We were waiting for you guys." Hermione rocked excitedly on the balls of her feet. "Oh, where's Ron? He should be here by now."
"I'm here," Ron said, jogging down the staircase. "What are you lot doing out here? Why aren't you eating?"
"I have an idea I want to share with you all."
"Then why don't you share it with us while we eat? I'm starving."
Ron made to enter the dining hall, but Hermione grabbed his arm and yanked him back. "No! I can't tell you where she might overhear."
"Hermione," Ron groaned, "I just got back from Quidditch practice where Angelina worked us like house-elves, I need to eat."
"How about we head down to the kitchens," Harry suggested. "Hermione can tell us her brilliant idea away from prying ears, and we can eat."
Ron grumbled a bit, but dutifully allowed himself to be led down to the kitchens.
"So what is it you've been so eager to tell us, Granger?" Draco asked, settling down in at the end of the Slytherin table's doppelganger with a plate full of food.
"Well, we've been talking about teaching ourselves everything we should be learning, to prepare ourselves for the O.W.L.'s and life after, but I think it's going to be a bit more difficult than cracking open a book and learning whatever catches our fancy. We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong."
"That makes sense," Blaise nodded. "Who then?"
"I was thinking Harry."
"Me?" the boy in question asked. "Why me?"
"Because out of the six of us, I believe you're the most capable of teaching us properly."
"I agree," Neville said. "You're the best in Defense, and with spells at general, and you certainly have the patience to teach them to us."
"I suppose," Harry agreed. "But-"
"No buts, mate." Ron interrupted. "You're the best choice out of all of us, so you'll be teaching."
"It seems as if I'm not getting much of a say in this."
"You're not," Hermione said cheerfully. "Now that that's settled, I think that we should open our tutoring group to anyone who wants to join in. We're not the only ones taking O.W.L.s, others need to be prepared just as much as we do."
"But that makes things so much more difficult," Harry groaned.
"It does, but it'll be worth it, because we won't just be helping students pass their exams, we'll be teaching them how to protect themselves against V-Voldemort and his Death Eater's. These lessons could be the difference between living and dying."
Harry sighed and leaned back in his seat, not even trying to hide the petulant pout on his face. "Well when you put it like that…"
"Excellent," Hermione beamed. "Oh, there's so much we need to plan; we'll have to rearrange the curriculum I came up with, to accommodate students from different years, and oh, we'll have to find somewhere to practice, an empty classroom would be our best bet, but I don't see any teachers lining up to let a group of students practice spells in their classrooms."
"Why don't we just ask the house-elves?" Harry asked. "They might know a good place. Excuse me, Nipsy?"
A little elf hurried to Harry's side and looked up at him adoringly. "What can Nipsy do for Mr. Harry Potter?" she asked.
"Well, my friends and I were wondering if you knew of any places we and a few others could practice spells and such without being disturbed."
A contemplative look settled over the elf's pointy features for several long moments, then she beamed happily and began to nod. "Yes, yes, Nipsy knows a place, it is known as the Come and Go Room or the Room of Requirement."
"The Room of Requirement?" Harry repeated. "Why?"
"Because it is a room that a person can only enter when they have real need of it," Nipsy explained. "Sometimes it is there, and sometimes it is not, but when it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker's needs. Nipsy knows Mr. Filch has found extra cleaning materials there when he has run short, sir, and so do the house elves. It is a most amazing room, sir,"
"How many people know about it?"
"Just the house elves and the caretaker Filch."
Harry grinned at the little elf, who was suddenly quivering with happiness. "That sounds perfect. Could you tell me where it is?"
"Of course, Harry Potter, sir. The Come and Go Room is on the seventh floor in the left corridor, right across from the portrait of the odd wizard showing the trolls how to dance." Nipsy gestured with her arms and did an odd little twirl that Harry interpreted as ballerina's twirl. "To get in, Harry Potter must walk past the wall across from the portrait three times while he thinks of exactly what he needs, and it will appear."
Harry turned to his friends, who were listening in astonishment. "Well," he said, "you reckon we should try it?"
"Curfew isn't for another few hours," Hermione said. "We might as well."
Harry managed a quick thank you to Nipsy, before dashing after his friends and up to the seventh floor.
"So what should we ask for?" Ron panted, staring at the blank stretch of wall across from Barnabas the Barmy's portrait.
"Let's just ask for what we need." Harry said. "A place to practice defense." He did as Nipsy instructed and paced past the wall three times, thinking of exactly what he needed as he did, on his third time past the wall, he heard Hermione gasp and stopped to look. A tall polished door stood in the previously blank wall.
"Brilliant," Ron muttered in awe.
Harry reached out to grasp the polished brass handle and pulled the door open. The room behind the door was spacious and lit by strategically placed windows and torches, the walls were lined with bookshelves and, instead of chairs, silk cushions dotted the floor.
"This is perfect!" Hermione exclaimed, looking around in awe "And just look at these books!" she ran a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes "A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions, The Dark Arts Outsmarted, Self-Defensive Spellwork. This is wonderful, there's everything we need here!"
"So we're really doing this then?" Draco asked, slowly walking around the room.
"We are," Harry nodded.
The blonde sighed and pulled up a cushion. "Then we better get to planning."
"Do you think what you and your friends have planned is wise?"
Harry bit his lip and stared off into the tree line, he and Loki were in the little clearing they often frequented in the Forbidden Forest, taking a small break from Harry's combat lessons.
"I like to think it is," Harry finally answered after several long moments of thought. "I know the moment Umbridge catches on to what we're doing she'll make some new rule to try and stop us. I also know that when she does, we won't stop, because what we're planning to do," Harry beamed radiantly at his father, "it's going to save lives. It started off as just a way to pass O.W.L.s, to get by for the rest of the year, and maybe to provide others with a way to defend themselves against Death Eaters long enough for help to show up, but last night we started planning and we really got into it, and suddenly it's not just this defense club anymore. We're preparing for war."
Loki felt his chest tighten as he smiled down at his beautiful son. He was no longer a child interested in childish things, although to be fair Harry had never been interested in childish things. He was now a young man, almost an adult, and despite whatever protests Harry may attempt to make, his boy was beautiful, the perfect mix of his mother, who he would admit as being striking for a mortal, and himself. And he was powerful, so powerful Loki's blood sang. And now he stood to lose it all, because of one power hungry mortal afraid of death. If anything, anything, happened to Haraldr nothing would contain his rage.
The god took a deep breath to steady his emotions, then reached out to clasp his son's shoulder. "There is no one better suited to prepare these children than you."
"So where are we meeting up with our potential students?" Harry asked that Saturday as he and his friends passed through the school gates on their first Hogsmeade visit of the year.
"The Hogs Head," Hermione responded. "That little pub we always pass on our way to the Three Broomsticks."
"Why there?" Ron asked. "Why not the Three Broomsticks?"
"Because the Three Broomsticks is too crowded and loud, it's not exactly conducive for an important meeting such as ours."
"And the Hogs Head is?" Draco snorted.
"It's not ideal," Hermione defended, "but it's the best I could come up with on such short notice."
"Don't listen to him," Blaise said, patting her shoulder lightly. "We all know Draco likes to whine."
"I do not," the blonde cried indignantly. "I express my disdain with more dignity and poise than you plebeians could ever even hope to match."
"Of course, Draco," Harry drawled. "Whatever you say."
The laughing teenagers weaved through the crowded Hogsmeade streets and made their way to the slightly less packed area where the Hogs Head resided.
The tiny pub was nothing like the bright, cheerful, and clean Three Broomsticks they were used to; it was small and cramped, horribly dirty, and reeked of, for some odd reason, goats. The large bay windows were not capable of doing their jobs properly as they were caked with several months' worth of dirt, so the room was lit by stubby little candles that let off an eerie light. Among the few patrons in the dirty pub was a man, or at least it was assumed he was a man, wrapped from head to toe in dirty bandages, though that didn't stop him from drinking multiple glasses of what Harry surmised to be Firewhiskey through a slit in his bandages, there were also two hooded men sitting at a table beside the window, and a short stout woman in a dark veil that reached her toes.
"Are you sure that we're allowed to do this?" Ron muttered nervously.
"Yes," Hermione snapped, "I've double and triple checked the school rules. We're not out of bounds, I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing."
"Especially considering the fact that when it's all said and done, homework is not what we'll be doing," Neville murmured under his breath.
As the group moved further into the pub, the barman appeared from the back, he was tall, and looked far too much like Albus Dumbledore to be a coincidence.
"What?" he grunted.
"Six butterbeers, please." Harry said.
The Dumbledore look alike reached under the counter and, one by one, slammed six bottles of butterbeer onto the bar. "Twelve sickles."
Harry paid the required amount then, after collecting their drinks, moved to a table farthest from the other patrons.
"So, how many people did you manage to rally up, Hermione?" Harry asked, prying the cap from his bottle and taking a swig from his drink.
"Oh, just a few," the girl said, nervously fiddling with her bottle cap. "I didn't have the guts to approach any of the Slytherins, but I spread the word to most of the other houses and, you know, people seemed interested."
Harry raised an eyebrow at the girl's poor attempt at avoiding answering the question. "How many are a few?"
"Um…only a couple dozen."
"A couple dozen."
"Maybe more," Hermione amended weakly.
"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Harry rubbed his face wearily. "When you said a small group of people to tutor I thought you meant a small group. Not several dozen."
"Well I'm sorry a lot of people were interested," she huffed. "I only told a few people, mostly students in fourth, fifth, and sixth, but then they started telling their friends and suddenly everyone wanted to join."
"Look on the bright side," Blaise said. "It'll only help further our plans."
"I suppose," Harry sighed, "I just hope we're all up to the challenge, adding this to an already busy year, our O.W.L. year no less, it's going to take a lot of energy. We're bound to fall behind in our studies."
"Some things are more important than school." Suddenly all of her friends were looking at her, wide eyed in astonishment. She turned dark red at the sudden attention trained on her. "What?"
"Did you just say there are things more important than school?" Ron asked "Or were my ears deceiving me?"
"Well, there are!" Hermione exclaimed. "What good will graduating from Hogwarts top of my class do if Vol-Voldemort's taken over? All of the spells and knowledge I've stuffed my mind with will be of little good if I'm dead by the hand of a Death Eater. Protecting myself and the people I love is more important than school any day."
Harry, Draco, Neville, Blaise, and Draco stared at Hermione with something akin to awe. "You know," Draco finally said, "I think Granger may have a point. I'm not saying we should ignore our studies altogether, but maybe cut back a bit and focus on things that are more important. Merlin knows that if we do it won't be detrimental to our O.W.L. scores, these two," he gestured to Hermione and Harry, "have been working us like house elves all year."
"Here here!" Ron exclaimed.
"Oh hush, Ron," Hermione said, although her attempted chastisement was ruined by her pink cheeks and the small smile on her face. "We all know the reason you're in agreement is because it means less time working on homework."
"If it was could you really blame me?"
Before she could respond, the pub was suddenly flooded with light when the door opened and students began filing in. Harry watched as Ginny and Luna entered and slid in the booth beside him, they were soon followed by Fred and George, and their friend Lee Jordan, then Parvati and Padma Patil with Lavender Brown, Cho Chang and one of her giggly friends, and Cedric Diggory. After them came a group of Hufflepuffs that consisted of Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, but after Dennis and Colin Creevey, and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team entered the pub. Harry looked away to calm his churning stomach. In the end, over four dozen people showed up, a good amount from every house and year aside, there was even a good amount of Slytherins present.
It took a bit of rearranging, but eventually everyone was able to find a seat facing the original group of Harry, Hermione, Blaise, Neville, Ron, and Draco.
"Could we have," Harry paused to do a quick headcount, "fifty-three butterbeers?"
The stunned bartender glared at Harry for a few seconds, before barking out. "Six galleons and two sickles."
Harry handed over the required amount, then began to help the bartender and a few others pass the butterbeer to everyone. Once everyone received their drinks, Harry settled back in his seat and waited for Hermione to begin.
"Er, well…er…hi," she stuttered somewhat nervously. Immediately all attention was focused on her. "Well, I'm going to just come right out and say it, this year's Defense class has been nothing short of a joke; Umbridge is a fool if she believes that her ridiculous method of hands off learning will actually work." This garnered several surprised looks as Hermione was known to have the upmost respect for authority, teachers in particular. "If we continue on the path we're going, not only will we fail our end of year exams, and for older students, our O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, the tests that will determine our futures, but we will also be woefully unprepared for the real world because…well because Voldemort is back."
The reactions to the statement were disappointingly predictable; several students sloshed butterbeer down themselves, and near everyone else at least shuddered at both the name and the bold declaration, but Hermione didn't allow the reactions to deter her. "So that's why my friends and I," she gestured to the small group sitting in the center of the mass of students, "decided that we want to do something about it. It started with the idea of only the six of us on self-studying, but it soon became something more. If everything goes to plan, by the end of the year all of us will be able to defend ourselves, and even others, against those who wish to do us harm." Hermione glanced at the adults who all seemed to be listening just as attentively as the students. "And, in due time, maybe more."
Hermione looked around nervously at the group of students. "Well, that's basically our plan. So if you're interested in joining us, we'll need-"
"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" a blonde Hufflepuff Harry faintly recognized as being Zacharias Smith asked rather aggressively.
Harry and his friends exchanged glances, they knew that this would be a likelihood that some, or even most, of the students present would have come in hopes of hearing firsthand what happened the night of the third task. They had discussed all sorts of ways to handle the situation and had come up with a plan of action. The fifth years however, hadn't counted on a certain Hufflepuff stepping in before they could enact said plan.
"I think Harry's word is proof enough," Cedric answered Smith before Harry or his friends could say anything else. "But if it isn't, take mine as well. I was there that night, maybe not for the entire thing, but I saw enough. Someone tried to kill me, almost succeeded as a matter of fact." Cho gripped Cedric's hand tightly. "A Killing Curse was headed straight at me, there was no way I would have been able to dodge it, but Harry saved me, he could have died, but he did it anyway. I owe him my life."
"So that's why you believe him?" Smith scoffed. "Out of a sense of duty?"
"No," Cedric refuted. "I believe him because the events that he said took place in that graveyard that night, they're horrible, and if-when they prove to be true, people are going to die, lives will be destroyed, so why in the hell would Harry lie about something like that?"
"Because he's mad, that's why!" Smith exclaimed. "That scar on his head has addled his brains."
"Now, hold on you-"
"No, Ron," Harry said calmly, "let me." The dark haired teenager stood from his seat and stared directly at Smith. "Look at me," he said. "Look me dead in the eyes and then try and tell me I'm mad again."
Smith didn't even last five seconds before he looked away from Harry's piercing green eyes, sufficiently cowed. He sat back down and didn't utter another word.
"If any of you came here hoping for a story, then I suggest you leave now." Harry cast his hard gaze over the silent teenagers. "I did not come here today to entertain fools and skeptics, I came in hopes of arming my peers with the means to defend themselves. I don't have the patience to deal with a bunch of cynics. If you don't want to believe Voldemort is back, then don't. I'm not here to persuade you, but when he returns and threatens the safety of your families, remember that you had an opportunity to learn how to keep them safe and you chose to walk away.
"So with that being said, to all my skeptics," he raised a hand and pointed to the exit, "there's the door."
Several seconds passed and no one moved, finally Harry nodded once in satisfaction and sat back down.
"We didn't expect you to," Terry Boot suddenly spoke up. "I can't speak for everyone, but my friends and I didn't come here hoping you'd give us a blow-by-blow account of what happened the night of You-Know-Who's return, what you told us was enough. We came here only for what was offered, a way to learn to defend ourselves." The Ravenclaw bit his lip nervously. "But I have to admit I'm curious about some rumors I've heard and didn't know if I should believe or not." Harry arched an eyebrow in question. "Is it true you killed a basilisk in second year?"
"Where did you hear that?" Ron asked.
"One of the portraits in Dumbledore's office was telling me about it. He said you killed it with a nothing but a dagger. Is it true?"
Harry looked to Hermione, silently asking how he should respond, she shrugged and gave him a half smile "It's true." Harry said simply.
"You killed a king of serpents with a dagger?" Susan Bones asked disbelievingly.
Harry flicked his wrist and his trusty silver dagger fell into his hands, he held it up for her to see before quickly re-sheathing it.
"Dumbledore let you keep it?"
"It was mine," the fifth year shrugged, "he couldn't just take it from me, and he assured me that as long as I didn't use it to harm anyone, I could continue to bring it to Hogwarts."
"Well now that that's settled," Hermione interrupted, much to the disappointment of most everyone in the room, "we need to decide whether or not you lot are interested in what we have planned." there was an almost immediate slew of affirmatives responses. "All right, then. You all will be told on when and where to meet by the end of this week, but only," Hermione produced a long sheet of blank parchment from her bag, "if you sign this. We need to know exactly who is interested, for future references,"
This idea was met with much less enthusiasm, but after several minutes spent cajoling everyone into signing, and assuring that the parchment would not be left lying around for prying eyes to see, the parchment was signed and the meeting was over.
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
All student organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded.
An organization, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or
more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No student organization, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and
approval of the High Inquisitor.
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organization, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor
Harry, Draco, and Blaise groaned in exasperation at the obnoxiously large sign fixed over the Slytherin notice board.
"Damn," Blaise muttered, running a hand through his hair.
"That just about sums it up," Harry agreed. "Come on, the other's should be at breakfast by now."
"Oh, thank goodness you guys are here!" Hermione exclaimed when the three Slytherins joined her, Ron, and Neville at the Gryffindor table. "So have you seen the new "Educational Decree?'" she spat the words as if they were something foul.
"It was kind of hard to miss it," Draco said. "The poster took up most of the space on the notice board."
"This isn't a coincidence," Harry said as he began piling breakfast onto his plate. "Umbridge knows about our plans. One of the patrons at the pub must have informed her."
"Or one of the students," Ron added.
"No," Draco said. "There was a jinx on the parchment Granger had everyone sign. If anyone's run off and told Umbridge, we'd know immediately."
"So what should we do?" Hermione asked, nervously biting her lip. "There's no way Umbridge will approve of our…club."
"We're not giving it up, that's for certain," Neville said. "We've worked too hard to make this possible and I'll be damned if we give it all up because of that toad masquerading as a teacher. Does anyone disagree?"
No one did.
Between the time it took for Harry to travel from the Great Hall to his first class of the day (Herbology) he was stopped by nearly half of the people present in the Hog's Head the day before who wanted to know if the new Educational Decree would be affecting their plans. Each time he assured them that no, it would not have any effect on the group, they would be proceeding as planned, approved or not. By the end of the day not only had the news that they were continuing as planned spread to all that it applied to, they were also informed when and where the first meeting would be held: the day after next in the Room of Requirements at eight.
The night of the first meeting found Hermione, Blaise, Ron, Draco, and Harry in the Room of Requirements a half an hour before the scheduled time, making sure the room was prepared and that their plans for the night were in order.
"Oh, I'm so nervous," Hermione muttered as eight o'clock rolled around and the six friends sat in the center of the room waiting for their peers to begin arriving. "What if something goes wrong? What if we get caught? This is a big act of rebellion we're not just taking part in, but leading. If we're caught, we'll be expelled, no questions asked. I don't think I could ha-Oh, Merlin they're here!"
The small group leapt to their feet as the door swung open and Ginny, Parvati, Lavender, and Dean entered the room.
"Wow," Dean said, looking around in awe. "Nice setup you've got here."
Harry made to explain the room's abilities, but before he could get more than a few words out more people filed into the room, declaring their amazement at the room and asking endless questions until he gave up on trying to answer and just waited until everyone had arrived.
When the last of the fifty or so students entered the room, Hermione closed the door behind them and locked it with a satisfying click.
"So," she said, turning to beam at the assembled teenagers ranging from first year to seventh "welcome to the first meeting of our somewhat illegal defense group." Nervous laughter rippled through the room. "We, that is my friends and I, really appreciate the fact that you not only kept your silence when faced with Umbridge's new Decree," her nose crinkled disdainfully at the thought of the woman, "but also decided to remain with us despite the threat of expulsion. I hope that, as thanks, we'll be able to make this group more than worth your while.
"So, with that being said, there are several things that we would like to explain to you, and a few things we, as a group, need to decide. The first thing being, a name for our group, something that we can refer to in public without giving ourselves away."
"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" Angelina asked hopefully.
"Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.
"While I like your style," Harry laughed, "I think both of those kind of go against the whole remaining inconspicuous thing."
"Darn it," Fred muttered.
"How about the Defense Association?" Cho said. "Or the D.A. for short."
"That's a good one." Ron said. "A bit boring though," he muttered under his breath.
"Is everyone in agreement with the Defense Association?" Neville asked. "Or are there any other suggestion?"
"How about the Trickster's Anarchy?" Luna offered. "It could be T.A. for short."
"Trickster's Anarchy?" Hermione repeated. "I like it, I really do, but where did you come up with it?"
"Because Harry's the trickster's prince," Luna explained patiently. "I thought it only fitting considering he's our leader."
"Why do you think I'm the leader?" Harry asked bemused.
"Well, who else would it be?"
"Um, Hermione, or anyone else really."
"But they're not you."
"Right," Harry said lamely. "Of course not."
"I think Luna's right, Harry," Blaise said. "We need a leader, someone to keep the order."
"I thought that that responsibility fell on all of us!"
"It is, but we need someone to look to for orders. When things get tough we might not have time to confer amongst each other on what decision needs to be made. We need someone who can give orders that everyone would be able to follow without hesitation, and I for one want that to be you."
"Thank you, but-"
"But we still need to ask everyone else what they think. All in favor of having Harry be the man to lead us please raise your hands." Every hand in the room shot into the air. "Well there you have it. Do you accept your responsibility as leader?"
"I bloody well do n-"
"He does!" Blaise exclaimed. "Now, back to names, have we come to a decision yet?"
"I like Trickster's Anarchy," Draco said. "It's just that Lovegood's reasoning is a bit…odd."
"This is Luna we're talking about here," Blaise shrugged. "She's a perpetually odd person, but I still like the name. Anyone object?"
Another vote was held, and, though it wasn't a unanimous decision, it was eventually decided that the group would be called the Trickster's Anarchy, T.A. for short. The piece of parchment with all of their signatures on it was labeled Trickster's Anarchy then pinned to the wall.
"Now that that's settled," Harry said after all of the decisions had been made, "there's one more thing we need to discuss before we get to work. As you can all see this group doesn't consist solely of one year, my friends and I figured this would occur and prepared accordingly for it.
"You all will be split into six groups decided, not by age, but by skill. The first level is where those with the least experience will be placed while the sixth is where those with the highest will go. Each session, your teacher will vary so you'll be able to learn from several different methods rather than just the one.
"Your placement will be decided on a series of basic tests to see where everyone stands ability wise, not how old you are. If a first year is just as skilled as a seventh year then they'll be put in the same group. Here in the T.A. age doesn't matter, only power and how capable you are of wielding it. Understood?" A chorus of affirmatives was his response. "Brilliant. Now, I want everyone to line up along the wall, let's get started on those tests."
Immediately, there was a scramble to do as instructed; it took a few more instructions and a bit of maneuvering, but eventually the teenagers were standing along the wall with a good two yards between each person. Upon Harry's instructions, a dummy appeared a meter or so in front of every student.
"These dummies" Ron explained, "have the ability to shoot a single spell at a time at a given target. On the mark, we'll give the dummies a spell and they will begin shooting it at you. You lot are too defend yourself however you can without destroying the dummies. Hermione, Neville, Harry, Draco, Blaise, and I will be walking among you, observing how well you defend yourself. When we're done observing, we'll have the dummies stop and it will be your turn to go on the offensive. After that's done, you'll be given another spell to cast and defend yourself from. Am I clear so far?"
There was a collective, "Yes."
"If you're given a spell that you can't perform or you become overwhelmed while on the defensive, just sit down and your dummy will deactivate. If three spells are introduced and you still haven't stood back up, then your assessment is over. There's no shame in sitting down considering the fact that, other than Professor Lupin and the imposter Moody, we haven't had a decent Defense teacher since arriving at Hogwarts.
"First years, Umbridge is the first DADA teacher you've had and she hasn't allowed you to perform a single spell, the rotten old hag, if you find yourself being overwhelmed on the first round, don't worry, we'll have you lot up to speed in no time."
"All right, is everyone clear on the instructions?" Ron asked, and was pleased when he was assured that everyone was. "The first spell you're to defend yourself against is Expelliarmus, the disarming spell. On three the dummies will begin to shoot, all right? Everyone ready? Good. One…two…three."
Immediately the room was filled with flashing lights as the dummies began shooting off the disarming spell at random intervals and at varying levels of power to keep the students on their toes. Hermione, Draco, Neville, Ron, Harry, and Blaise walked among the students, although they were careful to remain out of the line of fire, and took note of the level of ease each student displayed while defending themselves. Harry felt his ire for Umbridge grow when he saw nearly every first year student and a good amount of second years sit down almost immediately, the foolish woman would sooner see that her boss remained in power for just a bit longer than help teach her students how defend themselves from a very real threat.
Harry made sure to give each person who sat down an encouraging smile before making a small note beside their name, it was very unlikely that anyone who sat down on the first round would be getting back up, they simply didn't have the experience.
"All right everyone," Blaise shouted and instantly the dummies fell still. "Now for you lot to go on the offensive. On my mark start let's see how good you are at the disarming spell." Long, thin sticks that seemed similar to wands appeared in the dummies' hands. "One…two…three…go."
The offensive part of the test passed quickly, and soon enough the students were back on the defensive. As each level passed, the spells got progressively harder, and more and more students began sitting down until the six leaders of the group reached their last spell and only eight students out of the original fifty-three were left standing.
"Excellent job," Hermione beamed "You all did marvelously well, which unfortunately makes our job of finding just where everyone fits a bit harder, but…" she shrugged unconcernedly and looked down at her watch. "Well, it's almost nine, if you all hurry you'll just be able to make it back to your dorms before curfew."
There were disappointed groans, but everyone said their goodbyes then hurried from the room.
"I think that went rather well," Hermione sighed, when the last of their peers had departed. "Exhausting, and I was rather infuriated by how little the first years know, but other than that, it went rather well indeed."
"It did," Draco agreed. "But then again this is the first day, just wait until we start teaching them, it'll be madness."
"Way to keep things optimistic." Neville laughed, throwing a cushion at the blonde.
"I prefer to think of myself as a realist."
The second meeting of the T.A., which was scheduled four days after the first at seven o'clock in the evening, was, without a doubt, far more interesting than the first. The meeting started off with every member of the group being informed of their placements as a result of their tests. It came as no surprise that every first year was placed in the lowest level along with several second years, the remaining second years and a few third were placed in the second level, and after that it was a veritable medley as to who was put where, the third group consisted of students from third year to sixth, while the sixth contained a half a dozen seventh years, four sixth years, three fifth years, and, surprisingly enough, a third year Hufflepuff.
"All right, everyone. Now that you've all been placed, I'll let you know who will be working with who today and we'll get right to it." Harry waited for the appreciative cheers to die down before continuing. "Level one will be working with me today, level two will be with Ron, level three has Draco, Hermione will be with four, Neville is with five, and Blaise with six. Everyone got that? Good, please make your way to the correctly numbered doorway."
Six numbered doors appeared in the far wall of the room and the members of the T.A. rushed eagerly to their respective doors, leaving the six founders to exchange amused glances.
"Well," Neville said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "I guess I'll be seeing you all in an hour or so."
"Good luck to us," Ron muttered, looking at the door his group had gone through with no small amount of trepidation.
Blaise clapped his shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, you'll do fine."
"Right. Of course I will."
The six friends exchanged glances and then simultaneously departed to their separate rooms.
The first level students Harry had been tasked with teaching were sitting in the middle of a spacious room, chatting animatedly with each other as they waited for his arrival. They were a fairly diverse group, being made up of first and second years from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor, and a few from his own house.
"Hello," he said, smiling easily at the younger students as he joined them on the floor, "so you've all been sorted into the first level, but I don't want any of you to be disheartened by that seeing as for the past several years we've had some pretty shoddy DADA teachers. Umbridge, however, definitely takes the prize for the worst of the lot." The preteens giggled appreciatively at the little dig. "But no worries, we'll have you caught up and even surpassing your classmates in no time."
A shy looking Ravenclaw first year raised her hand. "Mr. Potter?" she said tentatively.
"Oh, there's no need for that Mr. Potter stuff," Harry said good-naturedly. "It's just Harry, your name's Carolina, correct?"
The girl nodded. "Yes, it is."
"All right, what is it you want to know?"
Carolina flushed as all of the attention focused on her. "I was just wondering, will we always be first level?"
"That is an excellent question." Harry said approvingly. "And no, you won't always be first levels. While we're training, my friends and I will be tracking the progress of each student, if you meet certain standards then you're given the option to take a test, if you can pass the test you'll be moved up to the next level."
Harry's answer prompted more questions from the students, all of which he answered as clearly and concisely as he could. When the question and answer session was over, the first and second years leapt to their feet, eager to begin their lesson.
"So, before we get into casting spells I want to know what you lot know, if not practically then theoretically. How many of you have actually been reading the texts Umbridge has assigned you?" A few of hands went up in the air. "How many of you have actually understood it?" Most of the hands went down. Harry laughed lightly at the sheepish expressions on the students' faces. "There's no shame in that," he said. "Theory is an excellent way to learn spells, but Umbridge is going about it the wrong way. It's impractical to believe that just reading up on magical theory will be enough to learn how to perfectly cast a spell. You need practice and lots of it.
"Now here's a question for all of my second years. How much did you learn from the Moody imposter last year?" He listened attentively as, one by one, each of the seconds years gave an account of what they'd learned, but their knowledge was sorely lacking. While the imposter had attempted to teach them practical work, it was obvious that not only was he not a qualified teacher, but the man was obviously reluctant to arm potential enemies of the dark lord with the means to one day oppose his master.
The revelation was somewhat bittersweet. While Harry was disappointed that two years of their schooling had been wasted because of unqualified Defense teachers, he was relieved that he didn't have to worry about the second years knowing more than the first and thus making his job to teach them both harder.
"So I guess I'll be working on the very basics with you lot." Harry said, clapping his hands together. "But that's all right, the fact that your heads aren't stuffed with the incorrect teachings of some very incompetent teachers will make things much easier for all of us."
And with that, Harry launched into his first lesson. He began by detailing each spell they would be learning that night, describing the theory behind each in the simplest terms he could, explaining why they would ever need to use the spells, and the advantages and disadvantages of using them for defense. When that was done, he demonstrated how to use each spell, the proper incantation and wand movements, and how they were supposed to look when they were cast properly.
"So does everyone have that?" Harry asked when he was done explaining everything. "Does anyone have any questions? No? All right then, let's get started."
The lesson went fantastically, in Harry's opinion, his students easily grasped what he taught them, and in no time they were casting disarming spells and even a few offensive jinxes by the time their lesson was through.
"That was brilliant," Harry said, beaming at the tired first and seconds years like a proud mama bird. "You lot will be caught up in no time." Harry checked the time and, upon noticing the late hour, began to herd everyone from their small room, and just in time it seemed. Just as he and his group filed into the main room, the other five groups did the same thing.
"Perfect timing," Hermione smiled. "It's getting late," she said to the quietly chattering T.A. members. "But before everyone leaves, there's something we need to give you all." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small object that, after a quick enlarging spell, was revealed to be a basket full of shiny, golden galleons. She explained their purpose and how to use them, and then, after the customary awe at the advanced spellwork put on the fake coins, sent everyone off to bed.
"So how did things go for you guys?" Hermione asked, settling down on a conjured couch the moment the last of the students had gone.
Each of the six friends took turns describing their classes and the progress their students had made, the conversation then progressed to plans for the next meeting and when it should be scheduled, as well as who would be teaching whom. All of the official business was handled quickly, and the friends were allowed to just relax in each other's company.
"I'm glad we're doing this," Neville muttered sleepily. "I think we're doing the right thing."
"We are," Hermione agreed. "You all know how much I hate to defy authority, but Umbridge is being completely unreasonable, someone needs to prepare Hogwarts' students for the world outside these walls, and if she won't do then I'm more than happy to do it for her."
"Just think of how furious she would be if she caught us," Ron laughed. "It'd be expulsion for the lot of us."
"Dumbledore won't let that happen," Hermione protested.
Harry snorted. "Dumbledore won't have a say. The way I see it, he won't be headmaster for much longer."
"Why do you say that?" Blaise asked.
"The letter Percy sent Ron earlier this year," Harry ignored his redheaded friend's angry muttering, "was full of not so subtle hints of the Ministry's plan. They'll try to relieve Dumbledore of his position as headmaster, maybe by claiming he's grown too old to be able to run Hogwarts the way he used to, or by turning the public against him through the Daily Prophet until they're demanding his resignation. But just in case that plan fails, the Minister is gradually giving Umbridge more power over the school, come December it won't matter if Dumbledore is still headmaster or not, she'll have such a tight hold on the school he'll be left virtually powerless."
A month after the first T.A. meeting and things were going terrifically. Harry, Draco, and Blaise had managed to persuade a few more of the Slytherins to join the group, and after being tested they were placed in the proper groups. It took a while, but the newest additions to their secret organization were more or less accepted into the group, although the tension between the Slytherins and the other house, especially Gryffindor, was evident through the obvious competition and attempts to outdo the others. The six founders of the T.A. felt no reason, however, to put a stop to this, because, in the face of this new competition, they saw their students, even the first years, progress remarkably.
"I'm really pleased with how the third levels are doing," Hermione chattered one morning as she and Harry made their way to their Ancient Runes lesson. "I know it's only been a month, but I think we should start looking into moving a few of them up another-oof." The Ravenclaw's excited rambling cut off when she slammed into the body of a taller student who rounded the corner the same moment she did.
Before she could form a hasty apology and move on, an icy voice stopped her in her tracks. "I'd appreciate it if you'd watch where you're going, it takes a ridiculously long time to get the smell of mudblood from my robes."
The voice belonged to seventh year Adrian Pucey, the older teen had been trying to make Harry and his friends' lives difficult since the day the younger Slytherin had humiliated him in the common room all of those years ago.
"I'd watch my tongue if I were you," Harry said mildly, placing a hand on the small of Hermione's back to help steady her. "Lest you find yourself losing it."
"I don't believe I was speaking to you, mudblood lover," Pucey sneered.
"It seems you still possess all of the wit of a mountain troll. I have to admit I'm a bit disappointed, you're hardly helping the Slytherin reputation."
"And you are? Associating with filth and traitors, you're a shame to Salazar Slytherin and all of his descendants."
"Am I?" Harry asked only mildly interested in the conversation. "If I recall correctly, Slytherin was a man who appreciated ambition, cunning, and maybe just a bit of smarts tossed in there for good measure, but it seems to me that you lack all three."
Harry saw exactly what Pucey was about to do before he even acted, so by the time the seventh year shot off a borderline dark cutting curse, he already had a strong shield protecting both him and Hermione, a high powered banishing charm followed seconds after the shield and sent Pucey crashing into the wall behind him, knocking him unconscious.
"Hem hem."
Harry bit down an exasperated sigh at the irritating sound marking his most hated professor's arrival. "Good morning, Professor Umbridge," he said in a carefully neutral tone as he sheathed his wand.
"Mr. Potter," the woman smiled unpleasantly, "I'm certain you're aware that magic use is prohibited in the corridors."
"He was defending himself," Hermione protested. "Pucey attacked us."
"Be that as it may, Mr. Potter still broke the rules, I believe ten points from Slytherin and a week's detention with me will teach him not to do it again."
"That's unfair! Harry was-"
"Ms. Granger," Umbridge said sharply while somehow managing to maintain the sickly sweet tone of voice, "I have made my decision, nothing you say will change my mind, Mr. Potter will serve detention with me."
"And Pucey?" Hermione said through clenched teeth. "What will his punishment be?"
Umbridge glanced carelessly at the slowly rousing seventh year. "I believe he's been sufficiently punished."
Hermione gasped in outrage, but Harry placed a calming hand on her arm and she fell silent.
"Your first detention will be tonight, Mr. Potter, I expect to see you in my office at five o'clock on the dot."
Harry bowed his head mockingly at the woman, then led Hermione away before she could protest any further.
"Why did you let her get away with that?" Hermione snarled, when they reached the Ancient Runes classroom. "Her reasoning was unjust, if you'd protested there's no way she would have been able to get away with giving you detention."
"I know," Harry soothed "but I know which battles to fight, ten points from Slytherin and a week of detention will hardly kill me."
"But the T.A…"
"The detention is scheduled for five, as long as it doesn't last any longer than two hours it shouldn't be a problem."
Hermione shook her head, but sighed in resignation. "Fine, if you don't mind the complete injustice just done to you I won't say anything else about it."
Harry laughed at her over dramatic exclamation. "I greatly appreciate that."
Hermione sniffed haughtily and stuck her nose in a book.
"Right on time, Mr. Potter," Umbridge greeted the moment Harry knocked on her office door at their specified time of five in the evening. "Come in."
Harry entered the office and only just held back a cringe at the eye watering pink walls, the lace doilies draped across every flat surface, and the horrible ornamental plates decorated with happily frolicking kittens hanging on the wall.
"Sit down."
He settled down in a straight backed chair and pulled it closer to the lace covered table set before him.
"Very good," Umbridge smiled. "Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr. Potter. No, not with your quill," she added, as Harry bent down to open his bag. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."
Harry accepted the quill she handed to him and stared at it suspiciously, the tool looked normal enough, it was thin and black, although it had an unusually sharp tip, but there was a faint aura of magic around it.
"Do you have any ink for me?"
"Oh, this quill doesn't need ink,"
Was that what the magic was? Was this a self-inking quill? Harry doubted the notion, the magic surrounding the quill felt tainted, not completely dark, but not light either.
"I want you to write 'I must not use magic in the corridors.'" Umbridge instructed.
"How many times?"
A decidedly unpleasant smirk spread across the toad woman's face. "As long as it takes for the message to sink in."
Harry pulled a sheet of parchment from his bag and began to write, I must not use magic in the corridors. A sharp pain sliced across the back of his hand, the words had carved themselves into the back of his hand, but, as he watched, the torn skin healed itself leaving nothing but a faint reddening of the skin behind.
So that was the source of the magic, he was using a blood quill, a Ministry regulated item that was usually used when a person needed to sign a contract in blood. Using a blood quill to sign a name, or even write a line, wouldn't leave a mark behind, as proved by his already healed hand, but writing lines with the quill would no doubt leave some serious scarring.
"Is there something wrong, Mr. Potter?"
Umbridge frowned when, instead of looking to her with pain, anger, and maybe even a little tinge of fear, Harry observed her with interest and amusement. It was most likely Umbridge had acquired the quill legally, but the way she was using it was, no doubt, quite illegal. He'd enjoy having something to hold over her head.
"Are you aware that you've given me a blood quill?" he asked mildly.
"I am."
"And are you aware that it is illegal to use it in the way you are attempting to?"
Umbridge's beady little eyes narrowed. "I am High Inquisitor," she said sharply, "and I have the right to punish any troublesome student as I see fit."
"Ah, so I'm not the first student you've used this blood quill on?" Harry felt the little amusement he felt disappear. Using the blood quill on him, he who could take a bit of pain and walk away with minimal damage, was one thing, but using it on his peers was a whole other thing.
"That is hardly your concern?" Umbridge scowled. "You are to write your lines and keep your silence."
"How long do you think this will last?" Harry asked, leaning back in his seat and lazily twirling the quill around his fingers. "You've got the students scared into submission, they won't say anything, not yet. But what happens when you lose power, all of the students who've been forced to mutilate themselves will start talking and your name and the Minister's name will be less than filth."
Umbridge leaned closer to Harry and smiled nastily. "And what," she said, "if I don't lose power."
Harry snorted incredulously. "You can't honestly believe you'll keep your position in Hogwarts for much longer? The Ministry does not belong in Hogwarts, you'll find, if you haven't already, that you have no place in this school."
Umbridge snarled ferociously at Harry. "Leave."
"What about my lines?" he asked innocently.
"Get out."
Harry calmly collected his bag and left the defense teacher to fume alone.
Thoroughly pleased with himself, Harry walked up several flights of stairs and through the winding corridors to the Room of Requirement.
"Umbitch," he said clearly, and the door appeared. On the nights of the T.A. meetings, Harry and co. set a password on the door to the Room of Requirements, as long as none of the members said anything, only those present at each meeting would be able to get in.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione exclaimed when Harry entered the room, she and the others were sitting by a fireplace playing a game of exploding snap. "You're supposed to be in detention."
"I got kicked out," he said, plopping down between Neville and Ron.
"How in the world did you manage that?"
Harry explained the events that led to his arrival in the Room of Requirements, and enjoyed his friends varying reactions.
"She'll hate you even more now than ever," Ron chortled.
"I figured as much," Harry agreed, "but it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up." Harry's smile faded. "But we'll have to speak with the T.A., find out who's had detentions with Umbridge and if they've been forced to use a blood quill."
"Do really you think she's used a blood quill on other students?" Neville asked, disgust coloring his tone.
"More than likely," Harry scowled. "But if I have anything to do about it, she won't dare use it again."
"She shouldn't be using it in the first place," Hermione said darkly. "She's violating at least a dozen laws using that quill."
"She attempted to justify its use by informing me that as High Inquisitor she had the right to punish troublesome students however she saw fit."
"The cow," Blaise scoffed.
It turned out that there were eleven students in the T.A. who had had detentions with Umbridge, and every last one of them had used the blood quill, as proven by the nasty scars on the back of their hands. It took several long minutes to document the cases with fourth year Colin Creevey's camera, and several more to heal the scars on the back of their hands.
"If any of you ever have a detention with Umbridge again," Harry said solemnly, after healing the last of the blood quill victims, "don't under any circumstances use the quill. Forcing a minor to use a blood quill to write lines is illegal, so any punishment she will attempt to threaten you with is more than likely an empty threat. She wouldn't risk her illegal use of the quill coming to light."
"If it's illegal," Faye Dunbar, a Gryffindor girl in his year piped in, "why can't we just report her to the authorities now and have her arrested?"
"Because our government is corrupt," Hermione scowled. "If we try to speak against Umbridge and her treatment of us it will most likely be covered up. Umbridge is too important in the Ministry's efforts to gain control of Hogwarts for a little thing like the illegal use of blood quills on minors to get her pulled out of the school and punished accordingly."
"That's unjust!"
Hermione shrugged. "It is, but there's hardly anything we can do about. Just try not to get any detentions from Umbridge while we try to figure out what to do. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Brilliant. Now, I'm sure you're all tired so we'll let you go, but just in case we don't see you before the end of term, have a safe and happy Christmas."
The sentiment was returned and soon after the T.A. exited the Room of Requirements in small groups of two or three.
"This break couldn't get here soon enough," Ron sighed, pulling the door to the room shut as he and the five others slipped out into the empty hall. "Merlin knows I need it, this term has been brutal."
"I couldn't agree with you more," Harry said. "Two weeks of no homework, no lessons, no Umbridge is exactly what I need."
"Well don't go getting too excited," Hermione cut in. "We still have one more day before the end of term."
"Would it be too much to hope that the professors will go easy on us?" Neville asked.
"Most likely," Blaise sighed. "With our luck they'll give us twice the amount of work and a ridiculous amount of homework to keep us from forgetting everything we've learned while we're off. That wouldn't do what with the upcoming…"
"O.W.L.s," the others chorused, pulling disgusted faces as they did. The teachers' constant harping on the upcoming O.W.L.s and just how important they were had driven even Hermione to near madness.
The six friends shared a quiet laugh before pausing at a split in their paths. "Well, we'll see you tomorrow morning," Harry said as he, Blaise, and Draco headed towards the hall leading down to the Slytherin common room. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight." Ron, Hermione, and Neville chorused, moving in the directions of the halls that would lead to their respective dorms.
"Don't let the bedbugs bite," Harry called.
The sound of Hermione's amused laughter, and Ron's worried queries about what bed bugs where and who they'd be biting followed the Slytherins all the way down to the dungeons.
