Weeks passed and Umbridge managed to sit in on so many of Amanda's classes that she began to wonder who was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, not that anyone really learned anything in that class nowadays anyways, but someone had to be watching the students during that time.

The students were having a blast, Umbridge tried to fight Professor McGonagall every step but Amanda just remained calm and spoke to her in the quiet, deadly voice of someone who knows that you are going to suffer horribly in the next few minutes, and that they will be the one inflicting the pain. The only thing Umbridge didn't fight with her about was when she gave detentions to Gryffindors, which seemed to be the only thing that pleased her.

It was during one such detention that an owl swooped in from one of the open windows, with an official looking letter in its beak. The few students that were in the room stared at her while she opened it, but she didn't bother telling them to get back to work. Professor McGonagall scowled as she read the letter, before standing up and saying, "Go back to you dormitory's, tonight's detention is over," and walked out, her dark blue robes swishing behind her.

Amanda swept down the halls, an irritated scowl on her face. She skipped up the steps to Dumbledore's office and knocked, bouncing on her feet impatiently. A voice called for her to enter and she did, pushing open the great oak doors with ease.

The office was filled with people. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, the tips of his long fingers pressed together. Professor McGonagall stood tensely beside him, her lips set in a thin line. Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was rocking on the balls of his feet near the fire, looking pleased. A wizard she knew as Kinsley and another she didn't know were flanking the door, looking very much like guards. Percy Weasley hovered near the wall, looking excited and holding a quill and parchment in his hands, apparently more then happy to take notes.

The portraits were not feigning sleep as they normally did, instead Amanda saw them alert and grim faced, periodically popping into each other's frames to whisper urgently.

"Would anyone care to explain what is going on?" Amanda asked, after a moment of terse silence. Fudge looked at her.

"You'll see, just wait," he said, with the air of someone expecting something very grand to take place. Amanda walked forward until she was standing beside her mother, who leaned over to say tersely, "It was Umbridge who requested you be here, she said she wanted you especially to see this."

"What is this?" Amanda whispered back, just as urgently.

She didn't have time to answer. The door was pushed open unexpectedly, and Harry was shoved inside, followed by and immensely pleased looking Umbridge. Fudge had a look of vicious satisfaction on his wry face.

"Well," he said. "Well, well, well…"

"He was heading back to Gryffindor Tower," said Umbridge, with the same callous pleasure she'd had when sacking Trelawney. "The Malfoy boy cornered him"

"Did he, did he?" said Fudge appreciatively. "I must remember to tell Lucius. Well, Potter… I expect you know why you are here?" Beside her, Amanda saw Dumbledore's head shake a fraction of an inch to each side.

"Yeh – no."

"I beg your pardon?"

"No," said Harry, firmly.

"You don't know why you are here?"

"No, I don't."

"So you have no idea," said Fudge in a voice positively sagging with sarcasm, "why Professor Umbridge has brought you to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?"

"School rules?" said Harry. "No."

"Or Ministry Decrees?" amended Fudge angrily.

"Not that I'm aware of," said Harry blandly. Fudge's blood pressure was rising, a tick seemed to have developed on his neck and he had turned a sort of dark purple color.

"So it's news to you, is it," said Fudge, his voice thick with anger, "that an illegal student organization has been discovered within this school?"

"Yes, it is," said Harry, tying to look innocent.

"I think, Minister," said Umbridge silkily, "we might make better progress if I fetch our informant."

"Yes, yes, do," said Fudge, nodding, and he glanced at Dumbledore. "There's nothing like a good witness, is there, Dumbledore?"

"Nothing at all, Cornelius," said Dumbledore gravely, inclining his head.

There was a wait of several minutes, in which nobody said anything to each other, and then the door burst open. Umbridge had a curly haired girl by the shoulders, who was hiding her face in her hands.

"Don't be scared, dear, don't be frightened," said Umbridge, patting the girl on the back, "it's quite all right, now. You have done the right thing. The minister is very pleased with you. He'll be telling your mother what a good girl you've been. Marietta's mother, Minister," she added, looking up at Fudge, "is Madame Edgecombe from the Department of Magical Transportation. Floo Network office – she's been helping us police Hogwarts fires, you know."

"Jolly good, jolly good!" said Fudge heartily. "Like mother, like daughter, eh? Well, come on, now, dear, look up, don't be shy, let's hear what you've got to – galloping gargoyles!"

As Marietta raised her head, Fudge leapt backward in shock, nearly landing himself in the fire. Marietta gave a wail and pulled the neck of her robes right up to her eyes, but not before the whole room had seen that her whole face had been horribly disfigured by small purple pustules that had formed the word "SNEAK."

"Never mind the spots now, dear," said Umbridge impatiently, "just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the Minister –" But Marietta gave a muffled wail and shook her head.

"Oh, very well, you silly girl, I'll tell him," she snapped. She hitched her sickly smile onto her face and said, "Well, Minister, Miss Edgecombe here came to my office shortly after dinner this evening and told me she had something she wanted to tell me. She said that if I proceeded to a secret room on the seventh floor, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement, I would find out something to my advantage. I questioned her a little further and she admitted that there was some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately at that point this hex came into operation and upon catching sight of her face in my mirror the girl became too distressed to tell me anymore."

"Well now," said Fudge. "It was very brave of you, my dear, coming to tell Professor Umbridge, you did exactly the right thing. Now, will you tell me what happened at this meeting? What was its purpose? Who was there?"

But Marietta would not speak. She merely shook her head again, eyes wide.

"Haven't we got a counter jinx for this? So she can speak freely?"

"I have not yet managed to find one," Umbridge admitted grudgingly. "But it doesn't matter if she won't speak, I can take up the story from her. You will remember, Minister, that I sent you a report back in October that Potter had met a number of fellow students in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade –"

"And what is your evidence for that?" cut in Minerva.

"I have testimony from Willy Widdershins, Minerva, who happened to be in the bar at the time, He was heavily bandaged at the time, but his hearing was quite unimpaired," said Umbridge smugly. "He heard every word Potter said and hastened straight to the school to report to me –"

"Oh, so that's why he wasn't prosecuted for setting up all those regurgitating toilets!" said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrow. "What an interesting insight into our justice system!"

"Blatant corruption!" roared the portrait of the red nosed wizard behind Dumbledore's desk. "The Ministry did not cut deals with petty criminals in my day, no sir, they did not!"

"Thank you, Fortescue, that will do," said Dumbledore softly.

"The purpose of Potter's meeting with these students," continued Professor Umbridge, "was to persuade them to join an illegal society, who's aim was to learn spells and curses the Ministry had decided are inappropriate for school-age –"

"Actually, you're wrong," said Amanda, quietly but clearly, she thought she saw Dumbledore's lips twitch into the tiniest of smiles, but it was gone before she could confirm.

"Oho!" said Fudge, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet again. "Yes, let's hear the latest cock-and-bull story designed to get Potter out of trouble! Got your staff coming up with them now, have you, Dumbledore? Well go on, my girl, do go on – Willy Widdershins was lying, was he? Or was it Potter's identical twin in the Hog's Head that day? Or is it the usual simple explanation involving a reversal of time, a dead man coming back to life, and a couple of invisible dementors?" Percy let out a hearty laugh.

"Oh, very good, Minister, very good!"

Amanda's fingers twitched, she ached to give the boy a good slap, even more so then Fudge, who was just doing what he knew, Percy, however, had been raised better.

"I am not trying to deny that Potter was in the Hog's Head that day trying to recruit his fellow students into a Defense against the Dark Arts group," she said, softly and evenly. "I merely wished to point out that if Dolores decides to say that the group was, at the time, illegal, then she would be very wrong. If you remember, the Ministry decree banning all student societies was not put into effect until two days after their meeting, so Harry was not breaking any rules in the Hog's Head at all."

Percy looked as though he had been struck in the face by something very heavy. Fudge remained motionless in mid-bounce, his mouth hanging open. Amanda tried to retain a polite smile, instead of the smug look she was dying to give them all. Umbridge recovered first.

"That's all very fine," she said, smiling sweetly. "But we are now nearly six-months on from the introduction of Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. If the first meeting was not illegal, all those that have happened since most certainly are. As I'm sure you would agree, Professor McGonagall."

"Well," said Dumbledore, surveying her with polite interest over the top of his interlocked fingers, "they most certainly would be, if they had continued after the decree came into effect. Do you have any evidence that these meetings continued?"

Amanda saw Kingsley shuffle a bit, and saw his lips move.

"Evidence?" repeated Umbridge. "Have you not been listening, Dumbledore? Why do you think Miss Edgecombe is here?"

"Oh, can she tell us about six month's worth of meetings?" said Dumbledore, looking mildly surprised. "I was under the impression that she was merely reporting a meeting tonight."

"Miss Edgecombe," said Umbridge at once, "tell us how long these meetings have been going on, dear. You can simply nod or shake your head, I'm sure that won't make the spots worse. Have they been happening regularly over the past six months? Just nod or shake your head, dear," she said coaxingly. "Come on, now, that won't activate the jinx further…"

Marietta shook her head. Umbridge looked from her back to Fudge, and then back to Marietta again.

"I don't think you understood the question, did you dear? I'm asking whether you've been going to these meetings for the past six months? You have, haven't you?"

Again, Marietta shook her head.

"What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?"

"I would have thought her meaning was quite clear," said Professor McGonagall harshly. "There have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is that correct, Miss Edgecombe?"

Marietta nodded.

"But there was a meeting tonight!" said Umbridge furiously. "There was a meeting, Miss Edgecombe, you told me about it, it the Room of Requirement! And Potter was the leader, was he not, Potter organized it, Potter – why are you shaking your head, girl?"

"Well, usually when a person shakes their head," said McGonagall coldly, "they mean 'no'. So, unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign language as yet unknown to humans –"

Professor Umbridge seized Marietta, pulled her around to face her, and began shaking her very hard. A split second later Dumbledore was on his feet, his wand raised. Professor McGonagall the younger had stepped forward as well, her wand centimeters away from Umbrigde's face and a look of pure loathing in her eyes. Umbridge leapt backwards, waving her hands in the air as though they hand been burned.

"I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores," said Dumbledore, and for the first time he looked angry.

"You want to calm yourself, Madame Umbridge," said Kinsley in his slow deep voice. "You don't want to get yourself into trouble now."

"No," said Umbridge, glancing between the towering figure of Kinsley and the wand still in Amanda's hand, which had lowered only slightly. "I mean yes – you're right, Shacklebolt – I – I forgot myself."

"Dolores," said Fudge, with the air of someone trying to settle something once and for all, "the meeting tonight – the one we know definitely happened –"

"Yes, yes… well, Miss Edgecombe tipped me off and I proceeded at once to the seventh floor, accompanied be certain trustworthy students, so as to catch those in the meeting red-handed. It appears they were forewarned of my arrival, however. I have all their names here, Miss Parkinson ran into the Room of Requirement to see if they had left anything behind… We needed evidence and the room provided…"

From her robes Umbridge pulled out a scroll of parchment, on it was a list of names, supposedly everyone who had been going to the meetings. The horrorstruck look on Harry's face when he saw it was enough to confirm it.

"The moment I saw Potter's name on the list, I knew what we were dealing with."

"Excellent," said Fudge. "Excellent, Dolores. And… by thunder… See what they've named themselves?" said Fudge quietly. "Dumbledore's Army."

Amanda mentally sighed, that really wasn't going to help. Dumbledore stared at the list and for a moment seemed unable to speak. Then he looked up, smiling.

"Well, the game is up," he said simply. "Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius – or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?"

"Statement?" said Fudge slowly. "What – I don't –?"

"Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, still smiling. "Not Potter's Army, Dumbledore's Army."

"But – but – You?" he whispered.

"That's right," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

"You organized this?"

"I did."

"You recruited these students for – for your army?"

"Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting," said Dumbledore, nodding. "Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that inviting Miss Edgecombe was a mistake, of course."

"Then you have been plotting against me!"

"That's right," said Dumbledore cheerfully.

"NO!" shouted Harry. Kinsley flashed a look of warning at Harry, Minerva widened her eyes threateningly, but Amanda just shook her head, there was no way to win this one.

"No – Professor Dumbledore!"

"Be quiet, Harry, or I am afraid you will have to leave my office," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Yes, shut up, Potter!" barked Fudge. Amanda thought she saw Dumbledore's eyes flash. "Well, well, well – I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter and instead–"

"Instead you get to arrest me," said Dumbledore. "It's like losing a knut and finding a galleon, isn't it."

"Weasley! Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he's said, his confession, have you got it?"

"Yes, sir, I think so, sir!" said Percy eagerly, whose nose was splattered with ink.

"– Wipe your nose, boy –" Amanda snapped testily.

"The bit about how he's been trying to build up an army against the Ministry, how he's been working to destabilize me?"

"Yes, sir, I've got it, yes!" said Percy, scanning his notes and absent mindedly wiping his nose.

"Very well, then," said Fudge, now radiant with joy. "Duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the Daily Prophet at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!"

Percy made for the door but tripped and fell, flat on his face, and dropping his notes at Amanda's feet. Picking them up, Amanda had the urge to toss them into the fire, but instead just grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.

"I sincerely hope," she said, so quietly that only Percy would hear, "that you are proud of this, because I doubt anyone but your mother could be at this point." Percy looked at her in shock.

"What would you know of my family?" he hissed, snatching the notes from her hand.

"I probably know them better then you yourself." Percy gave her one last look of anger and confusion before he turned and dashed from the room, slamming the door behind him. Fudge turned to Dumbledore.

"You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and then sent to Azkaban to await trial!"

"Ah," said Dumbledore gently, "yes. Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag."

"Snag?" said Fudge. "I see no snag, Dumbledore!"

"Well," said Dumbledore apologetically. "I'm afraid I do."

"Oh really?"

"Well – it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to – What's the phrase?" he said, glancing in Amanda's direction.

"Come quietly?"

"–Yes. I am afraid that I am not going to 'come quietly' at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course – but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing."

Umbridge's face was steadily growing redder and Fudge looked as though he had just been stunned. He made a small choking noise and looked around at Kinsley and the other man, the later of who moved away from the wall a bit and moved his hand a little closer to his wand, almost casually. Amanda found herself fingering her own wand, which was safely located in her sleeve, ready at a moments notice.

"Don't be silly, Dawlish," said Dumbledore kindly. "I'm sure you are an excellent auror, I seem to remember you achieved 'outstanding' in all your N.E.W.T.s, but if you attempt to – er – 'bring me in' by force, I will have to hurt you."

The man called Dawlish blinked, looking rather foolish. He looked toward Fudge again, but this time as if looking for a clue on what to do next.

"So," sneered Fudge, recovering himself, "you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you?"

"Merlin's beard, no," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to."

"He will not be single-handed!" said Professor McGonagall, plunging her hand inside her robes.

"Oh yes he will, Minerva!" said Dumbledore sharply. "Hogwarts needs you! Both of you!" he added, shooting Amanda a warning look.

"Enough of this rubbish!" said Fudge, pulling out his own wand. "Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!"

A streak of silver light flashed around the room. There was a bang like a gunshot and the floor trembled. Amanda threw herself down behind Dumbledore's desk. Several of the portraits yelled, Fawkes screeched, and a cloud of dust filled the air. There was a shriek and a thud and somebody cried, "No!" Then the sound of breaking glass, frantically scuffling footsteps, and then somebody landed next to Amanda with a thud and a groan – silence.

The dust settled to reveal the motionless bodies of Fudge, Umbridge, Kingsley and Dawlish. All the spindly tables had been overturned, their silver instruments in pieces. Fawkes soared in circles overhead before lighting on Amanda's arm and crooning softly. She reached out to stroke his plumage in farewell.

After a few minutes of speaking with her mother and Harry, Dumbledore approached her; he put a hand to her cheek and made her look at him, his blue eyes fixed warningly on hers.

"Keep an eye on the forest," he whispered, speaking so low she could barely hear him, "don't let things get to out of control there. And keep an eye on Harry; don't let him get to out of control either." Something about what he said didn't sound right to Amanda.

"You think he's being possessed, don't you?" she asked, suddenly understanding.

"I believe he could become so," he said, an edge of warning in his voice. "If that happens…" Dumbledore tapped his finger to her forehead and then straightened up, holding out his hand for Fawkes.

"Do not let him be lost," Dumbledore warned, before taking a hold of Fawkes long golden tail. There was a flash of fire, and then both of them were gone.

"Where is he?" yelled Fudge, pushing himself from the ground. "Where is he?"

"I don't know!" shouted Kingsley, also leaping to his feet.

"Well, he can't have disapparated!" cried Umbridge. "You can't inside the school!"

"The stairs!" cried Dawlish, and he flung himself upon the door, wrenched it open, and disappeared, followed closely by Kingsley and Umbridge. Fudge hesitated, then got to his feet, dusting himself off.

"Well, Minerva, Amanda," said Fudge nastily, "I'm afraid this is the end of your friend Dumbledore."

"You think so, do you?" said Professor McGonagall scornfully.

Fudge did not seem to hear her; he was looking around at the wrecked office. A few portraits hissed at him; one or two even made ruse hand gestures.

"The two of you had better get those two off to bed," he said, with a dismissive nod at Harry and Marietta. They said nothing, but marched the two students out of the ruined office and down the staircase. They could just hear the portrait of Phineas Nigellus say, "You know, Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts… but you cannot deny he's got style…"

Bye Dumbledore. Wow guys, I came home from school and I'd gotten five more reviews, thanks, it really is nice.