Bree,

I severely underestimated exactly how much more work sixth year required compared to fifth year. Holy shit, sis, how did you find time to sleep for the past two years?! Within the first week back at school I had essays from McGonagall and Flitwick, a practical assignment from Snape, and Sprout's assignment is to grow a bowtruckle bush- have you any idea the constant level of care those things require to stop them from dropping dead? You need to give them 150 ml EXACTLY of water at 6am, 12pm, 2pm, and 8pm ON THE DOT. You need to feed them lacewing flies exactly four minutes after watering them. They need ten hours of natural sun a day (in bloody England? Nearly impossible). I've had to start carrying the thing with me between classes, and it keeps throwing sticks at my teachers! Flitwick almost kicked me out of class for it yesterday! Honestly, who in the world would willingly, of their own volition, TRY AND KEEP A BOWTRUCKLE BUSH ALIVE? Let them die, let all the bowtruckles die! I'll murder them my damn self! At least I don't have Trelawney this year; that would be too damn far.

Harry is good, Ron is not so good because he keeps napping during his free periods and then having to rush through his homework at midnight, and Hermione is as stressed as you'd expect her to be. She's taking Ancient Runes this term as well, and apparently the teacher sets about triple the amount of homework everyone else does. I'm not sure if she's overexaggerating because she can be a bit of a drama queen, but either way she's too busy to worry about much else (she hasn't tried to bug me about SPEW in weeks- silver lining!).

Slughorn is an interesting teacher. He's a lot easier to learn from than Snape was, as he actually takes the time to explain things to everyone. He's also a lot more approachable than the old greaseball is. He's quite jolly, really. He's invited Harry, Hermione and I along to a gathering this weekend of what he calls the 'Slug Club.' Harry says that it's some weird thing he does where he tries to collect high achieving students. He didn't leave me much room to reject the offer, but at least there's going to be free food.

Snape, on the other hand, hasn't disappeared into oblivion. He's actually taken up the post for Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. How wild is that?! You'd think he might crack a smile every now and then since he's just achieved his life long dream, but you'd be dead wrong. Still quite the moody bastard. The only thing that's really changed is that he teaches in a different classroom.

I was so happy to hear about how much you love the bakery, big sis! I'm so glad you're happy. I miss you, though. Quite a lot.

Love, Sam

I didn't realise that my eyes had gotten wetter whilst reading Sam's letter until I finished. It was so comforting to hear from him that I swiped the tears from my eyes and re-read the letter several times over, until I could practically recite the words by heart. Staring down at the familiar slope of his messy handwriting, I could almost hear the words a though he'd said them aloud to me. I missed my brother terribly since he'd been gone.

Folding the letter delicately, I put it down and picked up the second one. This letter displayed another familiar script, but this one was far more delicate and cursive, by far neater than my brothers scribbles. I was smiling in anticipation as I unfolded this letter, but my grin fell as soon as I saw the contents of the letter.

Bree,

School is well. Predictably, it hasn't changed much since you left. The work in sixth year isn't that much worse; nothing I cannot handle.

Yes, I'm still the seeker of the Quidditch team, but I'm not very concerned with it this semester.

And how are you?

Draco Malfoy

I flipped the paper over, but the other side was blank. Then I shook the envelope, assuming that I had to have missed something somewhere. But there was nothing at all.

For a long moment, I just stared down at Draco's letter. What the fuck?

He'd answered the questions I'd asked in my last letter in the briefest possible way and offered no real information. What had happened? Things had been so good between us, he'd been opening up more and more to me, and now this? His walls were right back up, blocking me out.

He must've just had a bad day. He and Sam were completely different people, and I knew that they took their emotions out in completely different ways. Sam let out his anxiety by moving around constantly, not sitting still for a moment, fidgeting and chattering endlessly. Draco turned inwards; he brooded, and fell silent.

Sam's letter showed how overwhelming he found this semester; I'm sure Draco is the same way, but is just reacting to his mood completely differently. Sighing, I folded the letters up and put them in my bag.

One step forward, five steps back. I wished more than anything that he wouldn't block me out.

The door opened, and I looked up to see George poke his head in. "Hey, Dad says that the meeting is just about to start," he said. "You coming?"

"Yeah, of course," I replied, standing up and exiting the twin's bedroom and following George down to the kitchen.

Dad had told me that Dumbledore was really displeased about the current lack of Order headquarters, but we could no longer use Grimmauld Place. Sirius had left the house to Harry in his will when he'd died, but there were suspicions that the house may not have been his to give away. Such an ancient family would more than likely have spells in place to ensure that the house passed on to the closest Black relative upon the death of the last owner- and unfortunately for us, if that were the case then the house would've passed right on along into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Until Dumbledore managed to work out a solution to this issue, the Order were banned from setting foot in Grimmauld Place for both their own safety, and security of the Order. Dumbledore had ensured that the Weasley's house had the strongest possible protection around it to avoid any undesirable people making an appearance at today's meetings, and for security the location of the meetings changed randomly every time.

Regardless, Dad said he wasn't a fan of the current arrangement, but there wasn't really much to be done about it.

I'd arrived at the Weasley's house about an hour ago with the twins, and in that time the kitchen had gone from empty to completely filled up. It was a much smaller space than Grimmauld Place's kitchen, so it was a much tighter squeeze. The dining table which was designed for ten people had about seventeen squished in, and the rest of us slotted ourselves around the room wherever we'd fit. Dumbledore, of course, was seated at the head of the table, his eyes twinkling around at us all. Severus Snape was sitting to his immediate right, his head down and looking as though he'd never been more bored in his life. I ran my eyes over the rest of the occupants of the room; many I recognised (like Tonks, Remus, Kingsley, and Mad-Eye), but there were a lot of unfamiliar faces. George and I managed to fit ourselves in by the door; Toby smiled encouragingly down at me and looped his arm over my shoulder in a half hug. Not a moment later, Dumbledore opened his mouth and addressed the room.

"Thank you everyone for being here," he said. His voice wasn't raised at all, but everybody fell silent immediately to listen. "We've had a very good turn out tonight; I appreciate you all coming, though I know many were unable."

I blinked in surprise. I'd never really given much thought to how big the Order really was, but if there was this good of a turn out tonight and Dumbledore was still lamenting the absence of many other people… wow. That's a lot of fucking people.

"For our first order of business, I'd like to welcome three newcomers; though I'm sure many of you will already recognise them, tonight they officially join our ranks. Fred and George Weasley, and Bree Montero. Thank you for joining us."

Toby's arm tightened around my shoulders comfortingly, and I nodded my head with a smile as a few people glanced my way.

"As they are new, I'm going to assign them to an older member to assist them in learning the ropes. Fred, you're going to be with Toby; George, you're with Charlie; and Bree, you shall be with Bill," Dumbledore said. My eyes shot over to Bill, to see that he was already looking my way with a friendly smile.

"Secondly, I'd like to ask if everybody is comfortable with the guard schedule?" Dumbledore asked. "Annabel and Elphias are on tonight. Of course, things will change up slightly very soon, when our new recruits join the roster."

Nobody voiced any complaints, so he nodded before glancing at Kingsley, who sat to his left. Kingsley cleared his throat and sat forwards.

"The Death Eaters are continuing to raise hell; and from what we can gather, they're doing it purely for fun," he said in his deep, grumbling voice. "Latest news is an issue up North. Trees ripped out at the roots, roofs ripped off of houses, and about a hundred muggles missing. The Muggle authorities have said it was a hurricane, but we've confirmed it to be a Death Eater attack. And additionally… we suspect giant involvement."

Noises of upset met his words, and Kingsley nodded with a frown. "We've known for a while it's likely the giants would side with You-Know-Who, and this confirms it. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures are scouring the country, but the giant hasn't yet been found. However, a friend in that department tells me he's convinced nothing else could've wrought that level of destruction."

"Do we have anything new on You-Know-Whose whereabouts?" Tonks piped up.

"No; he remains elusive," Kingsley said. "He hasn't been seen since the attack at the Department of Mysteries, and he hasn't been heard from since he threatened Fudge with a mass Muggle killing if he didn't step aside for the Death Eaters to take over the ministry. Many of his high-ranking Death Eaters haven't been seen either- the Lestrange's haven't been seen in weeks. But it's not all bad. The Auror's stationed at Azkaban have thwarted an attempt to break out the Death Eaters confined to the prison."

"For now," Toby spoke up darkly. "His best Death Eaters are in there; failure this time will just make him more determined. He's going to want them out, and soon. How good is the security there?"

"Azkaban is the most secure place in the entire world at this time," Kingsley replied. "But I have to agree. I think that we should station Order members there to assist the Aurors."

"I'll put together a new security schedule," Dumbledore said. "Do we have any more news at this time?"

Nobody spoke up, so Dumbledore nodded and dismissed us. And just like that, my first ever Order meeting was over and done with. I was officially a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

The room emptied relatively quickly. Everybody said their goodbye's (except Snape, the old git, who just turned tail and left without saying a word), and before I knew it, it was just my family and the Weasley family left. As Molly begun to prepare dinner, the rest of us settled ourselves at the now empty table.

"Can we talk a little bit about what we're doing, now that we've joined the Order?" Fred asked. "I managed to pick up a bit during the meeting, but not much. I'd like to know more about what I've agreed to do."

Arthur considered his son for a moment. "Yes, I suppose that is your right now," he said. "The first thing you need to know is that morale is low everywhere at the moment- very, very low. Especially after Amelia Bones was murdered last week."

"I read about that in the Prophet," I said. "She was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"She was a bloody good woman," Dad said, his voice heavy. "And a dedicated Order member. She did a lot of good for the Order during the last war. She didn't deserve to go out the way that she did… it was a brutal scene. It looks as though Voldemort killed her himself."

"It's disheartening, as you can imagine," Arthur said. "To open the Prophet what feels like every other day and read the news about somebody else dying. Even worse when it's someone who seemed as untouchable as Amelia Bones. The Ministry is trying to keep people hopeful, but they're just not doing enough."

"We've made three arrests of Death Eaters in the past two months- and I doubt any one of them is a genuine Death Eater. But the top level Aurors want to look as though they're making some progress, and 'three arrests' sounds better than 'three mistaken arrests and releases'," Dad said.

"And we don't have any clue where Voldemort is?" I asked desperately. "Or the Death Eaters?"

Dad fidgeted uncomfortably.

"We don't think he's in England at the moment," Dad said quietly, meeting my gaze. "We think he's in America."

"America?" I repeated, horrified. "Why? What's he doing?!"

"It seems as though he's doing the same thing abroad that he's been doing here; his message doesn't just resonate with people in the UK, Bree, he's managed to build up quite the following in America," Dad said. "We believe that he's mostly focussing on recruiting. He appears to be building up his army again, much faster and stronger than it was last time. The giants and the Dementors are on his side, and the number of wizards joining his cause is growing exponentially."

"And the werewolves," Toby added. "They seem to have taken his side, too. And it's no wonder; the extensive laws in place to regulate non-human magical creatures, the hatred and prejudice so many wizards direct at them… We'll be lucky if a single breed of magical creature takes our side. He's offering something too good to pass up: revenge on those who judge them, the ability to run free and do as they wish, and the promise of equal terrain should he win the war."

"Remus has gone underground- almost literally," Dad sad. "He's been living among the other werewolves. Dumbledore wanted a spy among them, and he was… well, not happy to do it. But he was willing."

"I don't envy Remus," Bill said quietly. "Some of the werewolves in the pack he's joined… they're nasty pieces of work. They've shunned normal society to live on the margins, stealing and killing to eat. It's not… humane."

"He's come face to face with Fenrir Greyback more than once," Toby said.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard of him," Bill said. "He's the most savage werewolf alive. He regards it as his mission in life to bite and contaminate as many people as possible. He wants to create enough werewolves to overcome the wizards."

"He specialises in children," Toby said darkly. "He's the scum of the earth, targeting kids. They're defenceless."

"He says the proper way is to bite them young and raise them away from their parents, teach them to hate normal wizards," Dad said. "One of Voldemort's biggest threats is to unleash him upon people's children if they don't do what he says. It's a threat that usually produces good results."

"It must be very hard for Remus," Arthur said quietly. "Greyback bit him, when he was a child. He's perfected his craft; on the full moon, he positions himself close to his victims, ready to strike. He firmly believes that the werewolves deserve blood, that they deserve to revenge themselves against normal people. And that sentiment resonates a lot better with the masses of werewolves than Remus's reasoned arguments."

"What's the rest of the Order doing?" Fred asked.

"Dumbledore mentioned keeping watch over something. What are we watching over?" George asked.

"Hogwarts, mostly," Bill answered. "The security in and around the school has increased tenfold, and Aurors patrol the premises. It's the biggest target; almost all of the wizarding children in Britain are there, and we need to make sure they're safe. And of course, that's where Harry is, and we all know he's got a big old target on his back. The odds of the Death Eaters being able to get in are astronomical, but we've got to protect it… just in case they do decide to make a move."

"You lot will join in on the Watch shifts for the moment. George, Charlie's watch is on Sunday and Tuesday evenings; Fred, Toby's watch is Saturday and Monday evenings; and Bree, Bill's are on Wednesday and Thursday evenings," Dad said. "You just need to stick with them and do what they tell you do to; mostly, that's just patrolling the walls. In the future, we'll give you more responsibility, but for the moment you don't know enough. But you'll get there."

I nodded slowly. "And what else is there?"

"We track suspected Death Eaters; keep aware of their movements," Toby answered. "We try to find Death Eaters who are in hiding to arrest them, but this is proving very difficult. Any Order members in a useful position work it to their advantage; Sofia and I keep an eye on anybody coming into the hospital with weird injuries to see what can be attributed to the Death Eaters. A lot of Order members work in various Ministry departments, so they're able to keep an eye on what's happening there. Bill and Fleur at Gringott's can keep track of anything suspicious going into the vaults… stuff like that."

"Sometimes we act as security to high ranking targets, like Kingsley at the moment keeping the Muggle Prime Minister safe. We're actively working towards recruiting new members; we talk to people, work out their allegiances, and try to get them in the Order if they seem interested. It's a lot easier now that we no longer have to work against the Ministry, but not everybody is interested. They don't want an even bigger target on their backs. But recruiting is probably one of the most important things we do. We're going to need numbers in what's to come," Arthur said.

"For now, we need you on Hogwarts guard duty, and we need you actively out there trying to recruit people. Your schoolmates, primarily; you're our direct line to a younger generation. A lot of the Order were members during the last war, and though we're making progress and gathering more members, it's a slow process," Dad said.

"We can do that," Fred said firmly. "Easy."

"Well alright then," Dad said with a smile. "That's what we like to hear."

"Do you have any more questions?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," I said, "is there any way that we can have some defence training?"

They all observed me for a moment. "I can speak to Mad-Eye," Arthur said, "I think that's a very good idea, Bree. At the very least, you should learn some more defensive magic and how to produce a Patronus. Your Hogwarts knowledge probably isn't going to cut it."

"Thank you," I said, though I was cringing a little bit at the thought of Mad-Eye being my teacher. I had to force myself to remember that it wasn't him who had put the Imperius curse on us; it had been an imposter. Regardless, the real Mad-Eye seemed just as, if not even more, unstable than the fake one. That should be interesting.

Dinner was a rather quiet affair. Though there were quite a few of us present, I didn't expect much else after the discussions of the evening. I knew that the twins were lost in thought, as I was, trying to come to terms with all that we'd learnt over the past few hours.

As we were all getting ready to say our goodbye's, a rather impulsive thought crossed my mind, and I'd blurted it out before I'd even properly thought it through.

"We should take self-defence classes," I said, drawing everybody's attention in the quiet room. "I've thought about it a few times, since the Ministry. Once we're disarmed, we've got no way of fighting back. And I mean, I'm only seventeen- if I come up against someone like Bellatrix, or even Voldemort, who just completely outsmarts me in magical knowledge and skill, I'd be dead in a second. I think it could be handy if we knew how to physically defend ourselves, just so we aren't left completely defenceless in the absence of magic."

Fred was sniggering before I'd even finished talking. "What?!" I demanded, crossly.

"No, I think it's a good idea, I'm not laughing at that," he grinned. "It's just- Voldemort, really? What are you gonna do, just punch Voldemort straight in the nose?"

"He hasn't got a nose," I sniffed. "But I would punch him if I really had to. Obviously I'd prefer not to go anywhere near him, but if the situation called for it, I couldn't match him in magical combat. So I could just sock him one."

Fred seemed to find this utterly hilarious, and was laughing too hard to contribute to the conversation from that point onwards.

"Anyway," I continued forcefully, "I really do think we should do it."

"It makes sense," Toby said with a nod. "Count me in."

"Me, too," George said. Across the table, Bill and Charlie nodded their agreement.

"Okay, good," I said with a smile. "Well, I can look into what sorts of classes are on offer at the local mall, and-"

"Oh, no, hang on just a second there," Dad interrupted. "Classes? You don't need that shit."

I paused for a moment. "I literally just explained why I think-"

"No, I mean, you don't need classes," he corrected. "That's what Dads are for!"

There was an uncomfortably long silence. It was eventually broken when Toby cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, we all know that you think you're Jackie Chan, and I'll admit you watch way too much WWE to be normal-"

"-but this isn't something you're really qualified to teach us," I finished, a bit more gently.

Dad looked completely affronted. "Excuse me? You don't think I'm qualified to teach you self-defence?"

"Yep, that's what she said," Toby hummed. "And additionally what every single person here is thinking."

"Not true! George!" Dad yelled, turning to George, who started at being addressed so suddenly. "Do you think I'd be a good self-defence teacher?"

"Oh, well, um," George stuttered, clearly uncomfortable with Dad staring him down, "Uh, well- I, uh- yeah, of course. I mean, you'd be great."

"See," Dad said gloatingly.

"Okay, that definitely doesn't count," Toby scoffed.

"Why doesn't it count?!" Dad demanded.

"Because as if your daughter's boyfriend, who is surely smart enough not to piss you off in case you decide you disapprove of him dating said daughter, is ever going to risk disagreeing with you!"

"Are you saying George is lying to me?" Dad demanded, before spinning to glare suspiciously at George. "You'd never lie to me son, would you?"

"Uh- of course not, sir-"

"See!" Dad spun back to Toby.

Toby was about to respond when I cut in. "Will you two cut it out, please?!" I snapped. "Dad, everyone knows what you're doing! Quit trying to intimidate my boyfriend!"

Dad frowned. "Listen, regardless of what anyone says, I'm not letting you throw your money down the drain when I'm perfectly able to teach you."

I winced. "I just would really prefer if we-"

"End of discussion!" He said loudly and with a tone of finality. "Your first lesson is Saturday morning. Come prepared to kick some ass."

With that, he hopped to his feet and left the room. Silence followed him, before Toby and I let out simultaneous long, suffering sighs.

"You know, I really hate him sometimes," Toby muttered, and I nodded my agreement.


That night found Angelina and I both sitting on the couch in Fred and George's living room, taking turns complaining about our days. Angelina had been on the job hunt for the better part of the week, and had thus far been largely unsuccessful.

"It sucks because I just don't know what I want to really do," she sighed. "I've got no motivation for any of the jobs I'm applying for, and they can see that when I hand them my resume. And I'm trying, I really am, but I'm just not convincing anybody. Mom keeps trying to get me to apply to work at the Ministry and I just can't do that. It's so stuffy and boring and structured and it's just not me to work at a place like that."

"Well, where have you applied so far?" I asked.

"I've handed in my resume to almost all of the stores in Diagon Alley. There's a few shopping complexes near my house and I applied to the clothing and makeup stores, but I couldn't even get enthusiastic about that," she sighed. "I like makeup, but not enough to talk to people about it all day. I just wish I knew what I wanted to do. Everyone knows what they want to do except me."

"You've only been out in the real world for a few weeks, Angie," I said gently. "You've barely even experienced it. There are millions of jobs out there you've never even heard of yet, and one of them is perfect for you. You can't expect to stumble into it so quickly."

"You did," she pouted. "The twins did. Alicia did. Your older brother did. But I don't."

"Are you done complaining?"

Our eyes both shot up to see Fred loitering in the doorway, his eyebrow raised.

Angelina was immediately defensive. "Oh, I'm so sorry to be such a pain in your ass, Fred Weasley-" she snarled sarcastically.

"Don't get all riled up," he replied calmly. "Because I'm about to tell you some good news, and you don't want to spoil it by punching me before I get to tell you."

That caught her attention enough to knock her off her tangent. "Good news?"

He nodded with a smile, before pulling his hand out from behind his back and offering the piece of paper he was holding out to her.

Angelina glanced down at is suspiciously, and Fred rolled his eyes. "It's not a prank."

"Well, can you blame me for being mildly suspicious when it comes to you?" Angelina asked, nonetheless hopping to her feet and taking the paper.

"Go on, read it out loud," Fred said with a smile.

"Dear Miss Johnson," Angelina begun, her eyes scanning the paper. "We here at Rollins Publishers have read your manuscript and are extremely impressed. We would…"

She broke off all of a sudden, her eyes widening before she smacked her hand over her mouth. A muffled "oh my god," was just barely audible from behind her palm.

"Continue," Fred sung.

"…we would like to formally extend the invitation for your work to become a part of our collection of erotic literature," Angelina all but squealed. "Oh my God! Oh my God! Is this what I think it is-"

"Confirmation that you, Angelina Johnson, are about to become a published author and get a big fat pay check for it, thus ensuring you never need to get a boring 9-5 job?" Fred hummed. "Yes, I think that's exactly what it is."

Angelina let out a loud, high pitched scream, before launching herself at Fred so ferociously she nearly knocked him clean off his feet. He caught her with a loud "oof!" before recovering his footing enough to hug her back.

"HOW DID YOU DO THIS?!" She screamed.

Fred laughed. "Are you happy?"

"I've never been this happy in my entire life!" she cried, pulling back and pressing kisses all over his cheeks. "I cannot believe that you did this!"

Cheeks flushing bright red, Fred ducked his head with a grin. He glanced back up and met her gaze, and the two of them seemed to stop moving completely, simply gazing into each other's eyes.

After a second, I cleared my throat to clear the sudden tension in the room. They both seemed to shake themselves back to reality, and Fred cleared his throat.

"I knew you'd finished the manuscript but I knew you'd never do anything with it since it was just a little passion project, but I knew you worked really hard on it," Fred said. "So I proof read it to correct it for any spelling mistakes- super kinky work, by the way, Angie, I had no idea you were that dirty-"

"Thank you," she nodded, as though this were a very high compliment. "I am."

"-so I fixed up any mistakes and then I looked into which companies publish erotic literature. Then I submitted it to a couple, and then this morning… well, I got that letter. Despite the questionable content, you're a brilliant writer, Angie, and apparently the people over at Rollins Publishers agree with me."

Angelina giggled madly, pulling him back to her in an enthusiastic hug. "I can't believe you did this for me," she cried. "Fred, thank you! You're amazing!"

"I am," he agreed. Angelina spun away from him to face me, a wildly excited look on her face as she held the paper out to me.

In a second, I'd rushed over to her and thrown my arms around her. "CONGRATULATIONS!" I cried. "You're incredible!"

"I can't believe this- it can't be real," she gasped.

"I'll get the champagne, we are celebrating!" I laughed, before turning and rushing into the kitchen. When I returned with champagne and glasses, she was just staring down at the letter as though it were the most precious thing she'd ever laid eyes on, and Fred… well, Fred was staring down at her in the exact same way.

I paused in the doorway, suddenly feeling as though I'd walked in on an immensely private moment. But Angelina spotted me, and grinned slightly madly.

"Alcohol," she nodded. "This calls for alcohol."

Fred seemed to shake himself out of his stupor, turning and taking the bottle from me and beginning to pour out three glasses full. Angelina knocked hers back in one go, before holding her hand out for another.

"Well, I was going to make a toast," Fred sniggered. "To you, Miss Johnson; our very own soon to be published author of an erotic sex novel."

Angelina giggled slightly madly. "Oh, my Mother is going to lose it," she sighed with a wide grin. "Oh, hang on- Bree- you were talking about your Dad before-"

"Forget about me!" I gaped. "This is all about you!"

"No, I mean, you said he wants to teach you self-defence. Well, I took martial arts classes for eight years. Do you want me to come and kick his ass?"

"Oh, Angie," I gasped. "I would love nothing more than for you to kick my Father's ass. Truly, thank you!"

What a blessed day for everyone.


That Saturday morning found the lot of us gathered in my parents backyard, decked out to exercise and my Father giving us the worst pep talk I'd ever experienced in my life.

"Now, this is going to be a hard, gruelling, intensive course of self-defence. This is going to change you in more ways than one; you may discover things about yourself in my classes that you never imagined to be possible. And that's fine; that's normal. Martial arts isn't just a physical demand, it's truly a mental demand, too."

"Not like you'd know, you've never done martial arts in your life," Toby muttered, but Dad cheerfully ignored him.

"Alright, who wants to help me demonstrate a few moves I want us all to work through first?" Dad said. "Nothing to be nervous about, just a few basic-"

"Yeah, right here, Mr. Montero" Angelina said firmly, stepping forwards. Dad seemed surprised at Angelina's eagerness.

"Oh, Angelina, thank you for your enthusiasm," Dad nodded. "Nothing to worry about, just a few basic techniques. I'll go easy on you."

"I'm really not worried," she said flatly. "Where do you want me?"

"Just over here is perfect," Dad gestured, before taking a firm stance in front of her. "Now, your best bet in self-defence isn't the offensive, it's the defensive. Someone coming at you isn't likely to be trained in martial arts, so it will be sloppy. Angelina, when I move to punch you, I want to bring your hand up and knock my arm off course. Like this…"

Dad gestured, and Angelina humoured him whilst the rest of us watched on in mild amusement. "I got it, Mr. M," she said.

Very slowly, Dad brought his hand up in a fake punch. In a second, Angelina had wrapped her leg around both of his, and flipped him onto the ground.

Dad let out a loud "OOF!" when he hit the ground, accompanied by surprised noises from the rest of us.

"Lesson number one," Angelina said loudly, resting her leg on Dad's chest where he lay staring up at her in amazement. "Don't ever assume your opponent is untrained. Always assume they know exactly what they're doing, and defend yourself as necessary."

"Angelina, that was beautiful," Toby gasped. "I think I love you. Not kidding, will you marry me?"

"No," she said flatly.

A loud laugh sounded, and we all glanced down in surprise at my Father. "Oh, well played, Angelina," Dad grinned. "How long did you train for?"

"Eight years," she admitted. "Sorry about putting you on your ass; Bree paid me five galleons."

Dad let out another loud laugh. "No apology necessary," he replied, accepting her hand when she offered to pull him back to his feet. "I can admit I'm impressed, despite the bruised ego."

"I tried to tell you," I offered weakly. "Angelina is more qualified to teach us."

"Alright, I'm appointing Angelina your new teacher," Dad said, stepping back to stand next to Toby. "Angie, what can you teach us?"

She grinned dangerously. "How to kick some serious ass."

Two of the most physically demanding hours of my life later, I was so weak I could no longer lift my arms.

"You guys did great," Angelina complimented brightly, and an assortment of groans greeted her from where we were all slumped over on the ground. "Really, I'm impressed with you all!"

"I'm dying," Fred groaned. "I get you published as an author and you respond by killing me."

"You're a drama queen," Angelina replied with a roll of her eyes. "Let's leave it there today and pick up next Saturday morning."

"I can't move," George said weakly. "Toby, you're a Healer, help me!"

"Count me out," Toby groaned. "I can't feel my arms."

"Okay, so maybe I started off a bit strong, but you guys are going to work up your strength really rapidly! You'll be punching Death Eaters in no time!"

"You hear that, Bree?" Fred sniggered. "You're well on the road to punching Voldemort in the face- OW!"

He shot me a glare when I swivelled around to kick him in the ass.