Harry was becoming hardened. She had been working hard to preserve some of his innocence, already aware his childhood had been much harder than hers. Jamie felt like a coward, not coming up with a viable solution to Umbridge or the detentions she gave out.

Umbridge had becoming the High Inquisitor, with the power to carry out Ministry action within the school and Professor McGonagall had warned Jamie to stay clear of Umbridge. Dumbledore was nowhere in sight, and Jamie felt like she had lost.

Jamie had settled. She had opted to warn everyone, severely, against acting out. It was a far cry from what Jamie typically preached – standing up for yourself. She had watched the color drain out of Professor McGonagall's face when she had flashed her mutilated hand, only to feel nothing but defeat when her trusted professor had told her to keep her head down. So, Jamie warned anyone she could not to stick their necks too far out, but it only made her feel like a fool.

Harry was not taking the warning so lightly, he was in and out of detention frequently, which had begun to cause quite a rift between brother and sister. He felt she was cowering, taking the easy way out, whereas he was determined to lash out and fight back against the woman. They had nearly gotten into a screaming match in the common room once she had learned he had received yet another detention, nearly his tenth within only three weeks of school.

Watching Harry roll his eyes and lash back with complete snark, Jamie was struck with their similarities but also how much he acted like how their father had in school. Utterly sardonic, disdainful, and arrogant. It was like looking in the mirror from her behavior in years past, and she suddenly realized how frustrated her teachers and parents must have felt.

Rules were mounted on the walls daily, prohibiting students from doing much more than go to class and go to bed.

"Are you serious?" Harry slammed The Daily Prophet down on the coffee table Jamie was sat in the common room. It was the end of September, and the siblings had quickly drifted into barely being able to speak to each other, which hardly went unnoticed by the rest of their house.

"No, I'm Jamie," Jamie muttered snidely, her lips twisting up as she took in his fury. Glancing down at the paper, she sighed, eyes catching what he had been referencing. An expose had been written about Jamie, with references to her previous school behavior issues, poor grades, and lack of identification proving she was actually a Potter by blood. Umbridge was featured for a comment several times throughout the piece and had even so far as suggesting Jamie was impersonating an "innocent toddler girl murdered by evil" for a bit of fame.

"Harry, lay off it," she warned him, shoving the paper aside. His mouth gaped open, sparks nearly crackling from his hair tips.

"You've already seen it," he accused angrily.

"I get up much earlier than you, brother," she said calmly. "I read the paper this morning."

"And here you are, doing nothing," he hissed. "Skeeter and Umbridge are running your name—our family name— though the mud! Everyone is accusing you and pointing fingers, and you act like nothing has happened!"

"Dumbledore and the others instructed us to not cause trouble… any of us," she told him stiffly. "We have to ride this out until a better plan can be put in place."

"This is a far cry from how you were acting this summer, or is this all some sort of show for you?"

"Watch it," she stood up, her anger starting to show. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, Harry. I'm not your enemy, last time I checked, I was your sister."

"Then act like it!" Harry shouted, bringing the entire common room to a screaming halt. Jamie flinched as if she had been slapped. "Act like it, because right now you're no better than the cowards you claim to be better than. Act like it. Stand up for yourself."

"It's not that easy," Jamie snarled, insulted.

"Isn't it?" Harry ripped up his sleeve, flashing his scarred hand. It looked nasty, constantly being opened and raw. He held it up for the common room to see. "We aren't the only ones to have this happen to us, and you stand by like telling everyone to be good is going to be enough protection!"

A few people were nodding. Harry snatched up her hand, dissolving her glamour charm and yanking her hand up to show the others in their house. "You've been hurt too, and you do nothing about it. You're better than this, Jamie, and I don't understand why you don't show it."

"I didn't know," she admitted. She hadn't known. No one else was openly acknowledging they were suffering through detentions. Dean, Lee, Seamus, Fred and George, Alicia, Collin, and a first-year student named Marty held up their hands.

"Fight back," Harry beseeched her. He lowered his voice, stepping closer to her. "Just because The Order has put you on restriction, doesn't mean you can't carry on your work here."

"Umbridge," she protested.

"Is she really much different than a band of murders and a psychopath?"

She frowned. "I supposed not."

"You're the girl we turned to when we needed to call attention to injustice," Harry said calmly. "You never let anyone get hurt or made to feel bad about themselves, yet you allow this woman to do it to you."


"Jamie," Hermione appeared from between the bookstacks in the library. Jamie had the decency not to jump, though the girl had startled her.

"Hermione," Jamie acknowledged. It was a day after the common room incident with Harry, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of Hermione approaching her. While they were friendly, and Jamie quite respected the younger girl, they also were very, very different.

"I've been thinking a lot," Hermione told her, a determined look on her face. "Walk with me, please." Jamie didn't dare utter a joke as she followed Hermione deeper into the shelves. She was sure they looked comical. Jamie was far taller, solid, almost Amazonian beside Gryffindor's bookworm. Hermione was petite, despite the added inches from her voluptuous curls, and barely five feet tall.

"What's up?" Jamie asked as they stopped between two narrow shelves.

"I've been thinking about what Harry said, about needing to stand up," Hermione told her earnestly. "Umbridge is out of control, she's instituting awful policies and she's not teaching us anything we actually need to know! I mean, there's a war coming, Jamie, and most of us all know it."

Jamie nodded grimly.

"So, how are we preparing for it, is my question?" Hermione continued. "We're supposed to be learning valuable skills, defensive spells to protect ourselves, and she won't do it. What are we going to do, Jamie, when the incident in Diagon Alley at Cedric's is repeated again? Notice I said when, not if."

"I see your point," Jamie sighed. "So, what exactly are you wanting to know?"

"Not wanting to know, I'm asking you something," Hermione shook her head. "We need a proper teacher, and there aren't too many other people besides Harry or you who know how to handle themselves in situations where defensive spells are critical."

"Harry is much better than me," Jamie shook her head quickly. "He can handle himself far better than I can in situations, I usually lose my cool."

"Harry said he acts the same way," Hermione insisted.

"Hermione, what exactly are you getting at? You want Harry and I to do what, teach students? How would it work? I highly doubt Umbridge would clear us for some pseudo-duel club. The last one was infamously awful," Jamie said, referencing Lockhart's failed attempt at bravado.

"Right," Hermione said. "Which means we do it in secret. We find a place where Umbridge can't get to us, and we only let in the students we can absolutely trust. One's who have parents already in The Order or who have caused trouble with Umbridge already."

"And leave out the rest of the school?" Jamie didn't like the sound of it.

"Securer numbers mean less opportunity for Umbridge and the Ministry finding out," Hermione insisted. "However, it means we at least have a slew of students trained who can help protect the others in case it ever is needed."

Jamie was silent, mulling over what Hermione was suggesting. A great deal of risk was involved, danger. She hardly believed Dumbledore wanted them starting up a secret off-shoot Order, but then again, he was MIA half the time and in no position to help them. It was sink or swim in this situation, and Jamie had a hard time wanting to sink once more.

"It could work," she said finally. "But we need to be careful Hermione. We're going to have to be clever, something I know you have no trouble with, and we need to make sure we keep our numbers tight."

"You and Harry will both be teachers, which means we'll learn from the best," Hermione assured her, a severe, determined look returning to her face.

"Harry will lead, though," Jamie insisted. "I mean it. I've babied him too often this year, and the leadership and responsibility will probably do him some good. He needs a slight confidence boost."

"True," Hermione relented. "I'm going to circulate, gather a list. You'll do the same? We can meet up and make our final selection of students to invite tomorrow."

Jamie nodded, watching the girl scurry off. Jamie sighed, leaning up against the shelf as she gathered herself from Hermione's whirlwind. She and Harry, teaching students how to protect themselves? A secret organization. It seemed so punk rock, a way to stick it to Umbridge and the Ministry in such a radical way.

Her list was easy, the gang, the youngest Lovegood's, and one or two students in their year from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Draco would be her prime choice, but she knew why she couldn't include him. That part sucked.


Standing in the Hogs Head, Jamie frowned at the list of members they had ended up with:

Harry Potter

Jamie Shacklebolt

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

Neville Longbottom

Ginny Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Angelina Johnson

Alicia Spinnet

Katie Bell

Lee Jordan

Luna Lovegood

Soleil Lovegood

Collin Creevey

Dennis Creevey

Hannah Abbott

Susan Bones

Lavender Brown

Padma Patil

Parvati Patil

Seamus Finnegan

Dean Thomas

Terry Boot

Justin Finch-Fletchley

Ernie Macmillan

Anthony Goldstein

Michael Corner

Marietta Edgecombe

Zacharias Smith

Cho Chang

The last name on the list was a compromise. Jamie had put her foot down quickly when Angelina and Hermione had recommended including Marietta Edgecombe and Cho Chang from her year in Ravenclaw.

They had won out, insisting their Quidditch skills, cleverness, and the fact their parents were supportive of The Order or influential members of the Ministry and came from families who were not bigoted, Jamie had been backed into a corner. Grudgingly, she would ignore Cho being present at the meetings, and would steer clear of her.

If Jamie noticed Harry making eyes at the girl, Jamie was quick to grit her teeth and ignore it. To call her attention to the girl, who refused to acknowledge Jamie's existence, was to air out her dirty laundry with Cedric for the entire group to know.

Someone had dubbed them Dumbledore's Army and it had stuck. Jamie would refer to it as the D.A., which also seemed to stick. They agreed to wait a few days to hold the meeting in order to locate a secure location large enough to house all of the members without drawing attention from Umbridge.


The following Monday had Jamie dozing slightly in class, fighting to get through history with Professor Binns. A knock on the door sounded, and Jamie startled to see Umbridge appear, a clipboard in hand. She announced she was sitting in on the class, and Binns seemed absolutely unbothered.

Jamie wondered what exactly Umbridge could do to the professor, seeing as he was a ghost and didn't really care about drawing a paycheck or punishment. Binns droned every day, utterly uncaring if his students paid attention or not, and Jamie was half-curious to see how exactly Umbridge felt she could control him?

Keeping her eyes slanted, she watched Umbridge get up and circle Binns, who carried on, utterly unmoved by her scrutiny. Umbridge interrupted him to ask how he recorded grades, as he wasn't exactly corporeal. Binns told her the professors took turns weekly, transcribing his grades with him as he checked papers. It worked for Hogwarts, and they had a free educator who resided in his classroom. It was cheap and efficient.

"Is anyone frightened of having a poltergeist for an instructor?" Umbridge addressed the glass in a pseudo-concerned voice. Everyone in the small class glanced at each other, the unspoken "is she serious?" was palpable.

Jamie felt a twinge of rebellion and raised her hand. Umbridge blinked slowly, before acknowledging her.

"Miss Potter, are you uncomfortable with having a poltergeist for an instructor?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Jamie said, fighting her urge to smirk. "I just wanted to let you know Professor Binns is technically a ghost, not a poltergeist. Ghosts can't effect their environment; poltergeists are spirits created from negative or chaotic energy disturbances and are able to manipulate objects. Peeves is a poltergeist, Professor Binns is a ghost."

"Correct, Miss Shacklebolt, please enjoy ten points to Gryffindor for a wonderful clarification," Professor Binns almost sounded smug.

"Be it as it may, I question whether this is a comfortable learning environment for everyone," Umbridge glared at her. A few students tried to stifle their snickers.

"I recall having you as a student, Madame," Binns told her. "I don't believe there was issue with my state of being then, either."

"No one is afraid of you sir, you do a wonderful job," Jamie called out primly.

"I doubt there is a legal standing to have a polterg—"

"Ghost," Jamie corrected.

"Miss Potter, you will do better to not speak out of turn. Raise your hand to be called on or you'll find yourself with another detention."

"I believe she goes by her adopted name, isn't that so, Miss Shacklebolt?" Binns said. Jamie nodded, biting her lip to keep from laughing aloud as Umbridge turned fuchsia with rage.

"I—" Umbridge sputtered, utterly enraged at being 'handled'. A thump was heard, and Peeves himself drifted through the wall.

"Did someone say Peeves-y?" The poltergeist cackled, the books on the shelves around them beginning to rattle and topple over. Students were laughing and shouting, covering their heads as books began raining down. Jamie ducked under her desk, watching as Umbridge was pelted before she ran out of the room shrieking.

"Class is dismissed for the day, thank you Miss Shacklebolt, Master Peeves," Binns called out as he began to drift through the wall out of the office. "Students, be sure to cover your heads on your way out."