Author's Note: This is a one-shot. I own nothing.

Prompts:

QLFC Round 1, Beater 1 - The Rebel- Goal: revolution. Optional Prompts - 8. (Colour) gold; 12. (Word) Blaze; 14. (Setting) The Black Lake

HA - #7 Sociology - Task 3 - Craze: Write about a group gathering for an intense topic/event

Spring Quarterly - Say it With Flowers - Snapdragon - (word) sneaky

Word Count: 1176

Dumbledore's Army

Hermione had told Harry and Ron that she was going to the library, and she had fully expected to go there. Her frustration was normally one that could only be settled by reading and learning, so she was as surprised as any when she surfaced from her stewing to find that her feet were carrying her out the front door and across the expansive grounds of Hogwarts. October had not been bitter so far this year, but the breeze that blew around her nipped at her ears and nose. The trees were still trying to cling to life but the leaves were mostly brown and piles were starting to form on the ground — Autumn had the world firmly in its grasp.

Hermione burrowed a little more firmly into her cloak, hugging her books tightly to her chest as she followed her feet to the shore of the Black Lake. She perched on a rock and looked out across the waters as they gently roiled, lapping softly at the sandy shore. Her mind felt like it was churning.

Today had been yet another frustratingly simple Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that included absolutely no practical defense. They had been forced to read and memorise a task that spoke to them in condescending language and treat the very serious matter of defense into something that should only happen to princes in fairy tales. Not only was this going to mess with her academic ability, but it meant that everyone would be under-prepared should they ever find themselves in danger — a danger which (according to Harry) was alarmingly imminent.

Something had to be done. Even Hermione knew that not all learning could come from books, she and her friends had learnt enough on the job to realise that sometimes experience was the best teacher. But they did need a teacher, someone to guide what they focused on. Who could they trust to take charge? Umbridge was almost everywhere and with the backing of the misguided Ministry she had almost absolute power. Professor Dumbledore, maybe? Would he risk it? So publically going against the Ministry could give them a reason to fire him and then where would the school be? Fully in the grasp of those imbeciles. No, Dumbledore and the other staff wouldn't be able to help them.

Hermione huffed and, in an unlikely display of her frustration, dropped her books onto the stone beside her. She ignored the bitter wind and bent down to scoop a stone from the shore. It was smooth in her hand as she worried it between her fingers. Around her, the world was growing ever darker as dusk crept in. Almost straight ahead the sun was setting in a blaze of light over the forbidden forest, painting the sky pink and gold — though even that sight wasn't enough to calm her frustration. With an unladylike grunt she threw the stone as far as she could into the lake, watching with satisfaction as it splashed into the water sending a wave of ripples in every direction.

The ripples caused little waves that refracted the sun set's golden rays in every direction and Hermione had to squint against the little flashes of light like lightning in a storm. Hermione stopped, her arm dropping from shielding her eyes. Lightning bolt. Harry. Surely the next best person after a teacher, was someone with a wealth of experience dealing with the Dark Arts. Poor Harry had been thrown into a dangerous situation and forced to defend himself from the Dark Arts for the last four years, never mind what he had to face as a baby. Surely Harry was the perfect substitute to actual lessons.

Now they only had to find somewhere to learn and they were going to have to be sneaky about it. Where had Umbridge not managed to infiltrate yet?

X

"I can't believe you're making me do this," Harry muttered as they battled their way towards the rickety pub. October had become far more bitter in the last week, and their light cloaks had been replaced with thick fur-lined ones with scarves and mittens.

"Oh don't be like that." Hermione admonished, her words coming out slightly muffled. "We're only going to meet people and see who might be interested and how we might go about it. After all, we can't come to Hogsmede every weekend so it would be impractical to try and start learning today. You're just here to show people that you're involved."

"Yeah, and it's not like everyone's going to be obsessed with Voldemort and whether he's really back."

Hermione simply rolled her eyes, not looking at either boy and completely ignoring Ron as he hissed at the sound of Voldemort's name. Honestly. Ron had faced nearly as much as Harry and herself and yet he still held onto these ridiculous superstitious nonsense — there really might be something to be said for a Muggle upbringing. "Just let me do the talking," she told them as they pushed through the battered door and into the pub.

It was only slightly warmer inside than out, most of the windows were cracked and shattered in enough places that a gentle draft moved the air. Hermione didn't stop to look around, however, and simply charged on, nodding briefly at the shabby looking barman and heading straight for a table in the back. A group of students were already there, plenty of familiar and friendly faces that made Hermione more confident in her plan. They wouldn't invite just anyone after all, but at least some people deserved to receive a proper education.

"Hello," she started, once everyone seemed settled and all eyes were on her, "I have invited you here today because we are, at the minute, being punished with an inaccurate curriculum in Defense Against the Dark Arts at a time when it is more important than ever that we are able to defend ourselves appropriately." The small crowd around her shuffled and glanced towards Harry, the unspoken questions hanging heavy around them. "Whether you believe it or not," she barrelled on, "you are here because you agree that what Umbridge is teaching us is not knowledge. So we need to do something about that."

Much to her annoyance, Fred and George started to snigger. At her look, they explained — "It's just funny, 'Mione. You sound like a rebel or a revolutionary and honestly, you just don't seem the type normally."

She frowned, drawing herself up indignantly. "Well maybe I am! These are desperate times and they call for desperate measures. I cannot learn how to defend myself from Voldemort through books alone," at his name even the twins sobered up. Hermione kept her tone serious, hoping to convey to everyone just how important this was. "Umbridge is endangering us all and rebelling against her ridiculous regime seems to be the only way forward." She levelled a stare at them all. "If I have to start a revolution to keep myself safe, well then, Vive La Revolution!"

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Much Love, MaryandMerlin x