Chapter 17: The Founders' League

It was pure determination that carried Harry through his week of detentions. Carving words into his arm, although still terribly painful, no longer left him with a feeling of despair. Instead, every stroke of the quill strengthened his resolve to take Umbridge down.

He would allow her this victory because he didn't have any other feasible option. She was a Slytherin at her core, and she had used her cunning to make escape impossible. Anyone Harry told was in danger of expulsion or retaliation by the Ministry. To make matters worse, Harry didn't have any definitive proof that Umbridge had been the one to do this. Technically, he had done it to himself. Even under Veritaserum, he would be forced to admit that fact.

With Fudge in power and the public against him, Harry had no chance. If the story ever actually broke, it would likely paint him as a delusional liar who had carved the words into his own arm and tried to blame it on Umbridge. She had him backed into a corner, and she knew it.

Umbridge had made one fatal mistake though: she had assumed that he would act like a stereotypical Gryffindor. If there was one thing Harry had learned in his years at Hogwarts it was that everyone was a mixture of the houses. No one was purely Gryffindor or Slytherin or Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Umbridge expected him to engage in a battle of wills, keeping his silence to protect his friends. She expected him to be the self-sacrificing kind of brave that he so often was.

She didn't account for the fact that Harry had a fair amount of Slytherin in him as well. He would play the sacrificial hero in this office. He would pretend that he was taking this lying down in order to protect those around him. He would let her think she'd beaten him.

He was luring her into a false sense of security through his submission. This would keep her eyes off his long-term plans. He knew that eventually public opinion would turn to his side. Eventually, Voldemort would reveal himself. When that happened, Fudge would fall. Harry would make sure of it.

Once that happened, Harry would finally be able to take these detentions public. Without Fudge to protect her, Harry was sure that Umbridge would face time in Azkaban.

Harry also knew that when he was in detention, no one else could be. He was willing to take this punishment so that no one else had to. It was the knowledge that he was protecting others, and the lovely image of Umbridge behind bars, that allowed Harry to keep his head high even as he carved those hateful words deeper and deeper into his flesh.

When the pain became too much, Harry took to distracting himself with planning for the first meeting of the defense club. Working on lesson plans helped him remember why he was putting up with the torture Umbridge was inflicting.

The first meeting would be that Sunday, and Harry had a lot of lesson-planning to do. Thankfully, most of the logistical stuff was taken care of. The rings had been handed out, they had a finalized list of members, and the Room of Requirement was under a Fidelius Charm. They even had a name.

At breakfast on Monday morning, Luna Lovegood had come up to Harry, her normally dreamy expression replaced by a kind of dignified solemnity.

"Hogwarts is very pleased with you, Harry. I think she feels like this is a second founding of the school."

Before Harry could begin to ponder the strangeness of Luna's statement, a lightbulb seemed to go off above Neville's head.

"It is like a second founding! We're founding a united Hogwarts! We should call it something to do with the founders!"

"That's an excellent idea, Neville!" Hermione said, seeming to catch Neville's enthusiasm.

"How about the Founders' club?" Ginny asked.

"The Founders' Association?" Fred suggested.

"No, The Founders' League,"

Neville said it with such conviction that no further discussion was necessary.

Just like that, the Founders' League was born.

Hermione was extremely excited by the name because it gave her an opportunity to lecture them on what she felt was proper apostrophe placement in a plural possessive.

"I never add an extra "s", it just looks bad."

Even Neville, who was normally very tolerant of Hermione's lectures, couldn't resist rolling his eyes. They did agree, however, that although the apostrophe was a little cumbersome, it would make a cool logo if they ever stopped being a secret organization.

"The apostrophe can be drawn in the shape of a snake. It'll be just like the ones on our rings," Ginny pointed out happily.

Now that they had a name, a location, and members, the only thing left was to devise how the club would run. After much deliberation, Harry had decided that the League would be divided into 3 groups. The first group would be years 1-3 and would focus primarily on basic defensive techniques such as the Disarming Charm and minor hexes. The second group would include years 4-5 and would concentrate on hex-deflection and recognizing dark magic. The final group would be years 6-7 and would focus on advanced defensive magic. Harry hoped to teach that group advanced shielding charms and maybe even the Patronus.

Once they had covered enough spells, Harry would move on to dueling with the two older groups while he would teach the younger years how to deal with Dark Creatures. Although Harry would be the primary instructor, he would have assistance from his friends in running the meetings. Ron and Hermione would help him with the youngest group; Fred and Angelina with the middle group; and George and Blaise with the oldest group.

Harry was slightly concerned that the NEWT students would object to him teaching them because he was younger. He planned to explain to them why he felt he was qualified. During the Triwizard Tournament, he had worked through the entirety of the Hogwarts curriculum in DADA, convinced that he was going to die in the tournament unless he prepared. He knew all the defensive spells that might be on the NEWTs, and he had used many of them in real-world situations. Many of the older students also hadn't gotten a very good DADA education. Having a different, usually sub-par, professor every year didn't produce well-rounded students.

Harry had also had mostly terrible Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. He was only so knowledgeable because being in constant danger had a way of forcing you to learn how to defend yourself. Harry wanted the members of the League to gain that same knowledge without having to go through the painful experiences he had gone through.

With his lesson plans complete, Harry could barely wait until Sunday— the day of the first meeting. Sunday was the perfect day because there were no structured activities on those days: no classes, no Hogsmeade weekends, no Quidditch matches. Students spent Sundays scattered around the castle. It was the perfect time for a secret club to meet because no one would notice that they were gone.

Even Quidditch didn't help Harry rid himself of his nervous energy. During their practice on Saturday, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering. He was equal parts determined and terrified, excited and cautious. He wanted this to work so badly, but he was also petrified that he would fail. If anyone died because he didn't teach them well enough…

Well, Harry wasn't sure he could survive that.

As it turned out, distraction and Quidditch were not a good combination. Harry found this out the hard way when he failed to catch the Snitch a single time during the entire practice.

Angelina had not been pleased.

"HAVE YOU GONE BLIND? THAT'S THE ONLY EXPLANATION I CAN THINK OF FOR WHY YOU MISSED THE SNITCH EVERY SINGLE TIME!"

Harry tried to look remorseful. It was made very difficult by the Weasley twins, who were standing behind Angelina imitating her outraged expression and erratic hand waving.

"YOU'RE THE BEST SEEKER IN HOGWARTS, BUT YOUR BRAIN SEEMS TO HAVE LEFT THE BUILDING! GET IT TOGETHER, POTTER!"

"Sorry, Angelina."

Harry said, still finding it difficult not to laugh.

"I promise I'll be better next week."

"See that you are." Angelina huffed.

As he walked back up to the castle, Harry pondered the similarities between Oliver Wood and Angelina. They had both gone absolutely insane when made Quidditch Captain. Oliver was a soft-spoken bloke, but whenever Quidditch was involved, he became a madman. Harry wondered if all Quidditch Captains were afflicted by this Quidditch insanity. He hoped not.

Harry had a hard time thinking about his life after Hogwarts. He sometimes doubted he would survive that long. The only thing he could imagine himself doing was playing Quidditch professionally. He hoped that he would be good enough by the time he graduated. If he graduated.

It was a dream. A dream of a life without Voldemort. If he could somehow defeat Voldemort before he graduated, then he would try to play professionally. It was a vision of the future that stopped him from giving up completely.

He was already tired of fighting. He didn't want his life to be a constant battle to stay alive like it would be if he chose to become an Auror as he knew many people expected him to.

His dream was to play on a Quidditch team and do research on the side. He wanted to keep Spell-Crafting and experimenting. He wanted to help improve the magical world in a way that didn't involve fighting people. He had already done enough of that. He wanted Sirius free. He wanted a family of his own and a life free from fear. He wanted it so badly it hurt.

He didn't know if his dream would ever come to pass. He might die before his next birthday. He might spend his entire life running from Voldemort. Harry kept the spark of hope alive because it stopped the despair from overtaking him. He needed something to look forward to.

He would fight this fight. He would fight for the life he wanted.

If he died, then at least he would try his best to secure that peaceful life for those he left behind.

"Hey, are you excited for the meeting tomorrow?" a voice cut through his thoughts.

It was George.

"Um, yeah. I'm nervous, but I think it should be good."

"I'm sure it'll be amazing! You've been working on those plans all week."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm always right, Harrikins! You should know that by now."

They walked in comfortable silence for a minute, just enjoying the evening.

"You know, the rings have caused quite a stir," George commented, looking particularly mischievous.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Umbridge noticed them in our DADA class. She asked us where we got them. I told her that they came from a mysterious and handsome stranger. Which is not technically false. Except for the stranger part."

Harry had to fight hard to hide his blush. George thought he was handsome?

"That's not...I mean….what?"

George laughed.

"Learn to take a compliment, Harry. It's a good skill to have. Especially for an individual as talented as yourself. As for the mysterious part, well, it's not really a compliment. You keep too many secrets."

Harry wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that.

"Was she satisfied with your explanation?" he said, trying to change the subject.

"Nope! She just got really angry when everyone in the class said the same thing. It's already starting to annoy her, but it's not like she can do anything. There's no rule against wearing jewelry!"

Harry was happy that the rings were working. Annoying Umbridge made all the work he had done on the rings so very worth it.

Once they got back to the castle, Harry spent the rest of the evening running through his lesson plans in the Room of Requirement, trying to get a feel for the flow of each session.

His extensive preparations did nothing to calm Harry's nerves as he sat at breakfast the next morning. He had never felt this jittery in his life. It wasn't the idea of teaching that scared him, it was the idea that he might not do it well enough. It had never been more essential for the students of Hogwarts to have a good defense education. If he couldn't provide one the consequences could end up being catastrophic.

Hermione, sensing Harry's nervousness, tried to calm him down by launching into an incredibly tedious description of an article she had read on the properties of Moonstone. Harry appreciated the effort. He knew that Hermione was remembering the nights in first-year when they had stayed up late in the Common Room and he had fallen asleep to the sound of her voice as she explained some obscure concept.

Ron responded to Harry's nervousness in the only way he knew how: food. He piled eggs, bacon, and toast on Harry's plate as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Eat up, mate! You need your energy."

It was during moments like these that Harry understood why they had been nicknamed the "Golden Trio." He didn't know who had coined the term, but it sometimes fit them just right. They really were the best of friends. Harry often doubted he would be here without the two of them. It wasn't just the fact that Hermione and Ron had helped him survive many of his end-of-year exploits, it was that they had shown him what it was like to have people care.

By the time he was eleven, Harry had begun to doubt that anyone would ever actually want him around. Ron had been the first person to make him feel like someone might cry if he died. Hermione had been the first person who hugged him like touching him was a gift not an inconvenience. He really didn't want to think about what his mental state would be like if he hadn't had them.

After breakfast, Harry headed up to the Room of Requirement with Ron and Hermione to get everything ready for the youngest group. Ten minutes before the meeting was set to begin, Harry activated the Marauder's Map so he could keep track of Umbridge. If he saw her get too close to their location, he would send a warning out through the rings to stop any students from getting caught.

Thankfully, there were no issues and every student made it safely into the Room of Requirement. Harry was struck by how tiny they all seemed. Tiny and young.

"Hi everyone!" He said, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

"Welcome to the first meeting of the Founders' League! Um, I'm Harry Potter,"

He hated introducing himself. Everyone already knew who he was. How could they not when he was literally all over the news.

"this is Ron Weasley," he said, gesturing to Ron, who gave an awkward wave.

"and this is Hermione Granger."

Hermione beamed at the younger students, clearly delighted to be in a teaching role.

"We'll be helping you all learn how to defend yourselves. You'll see pretty quickly that with just a few key spells, you can protect yourself very effectively. Today, we'll start with one of my favorite spells—the Disarming Charm. It's a really useful spell because most Wizards and Witches are totally useless without their wands."

That earned some giggles from the kids.

Harry spent the next half hour explaining the background of the charm, giving examples of situations where it was useful, and going over the pronunciation and wand movement. He let Ron and Hermione demonstrate the charm before splitting the kids into pairs and setting them loose to practice.

At first, it was chaos. Wands were flying everywhere. People were accidentally disarming other people's partners or themselves.

Harry moved around the room adjusting stances and giving tips on aim. The kids took his advice without question, seemingly delighted to have his attention. Slowly but surely, they improved. Harry loved seeing the excitement on their faces when they managed the spell correctly. It made him feel like he was really accomplishing something.

By the end of the hour, every student had successfully disarmed their partner at least once. They were far from perfect, but it was a good start. With around ten minutes left before the middle group would be arriving, Harry started dismissing the students in small groups. As they left, they thanked him, their tiny voices squeaky with happiness. One first year Hufflepuff, Claire, gave him a big hug before she left.

Harry was so shocked, he didn't know how to react. Claire didn't seem to care. She just gave him a big grin, waved, and left.

"That went really well!" Hermione exclaimed, tidying up some of the cushions that had been hit with rogue spells.

"They really seem to like you, Harry."

"They're too small." Ron said, grimacing.

"I was never that small."

Hermione glared at him.

"Honestly, Ronald. You WERE that small and twice as annoying."

"Oi!"

"She's right, mate," Harry said, grinning

"You were pretty annoying."

"Don't you start, Harry," Ron moaned.

"Besides, you're one to talk! You were the smallest first year I've ever seen. Scrawny little thing. That certainly hasn't changed."

"Hey!"

"Boys, no fighting!" Hermione said,

"You were both tiny and annoying firsties. Harry's stayed small, and Ron's stayed annoying. End of story."

Before Ron and Harry could defend themselves from Hermione's baseless accusations, the next group started to arrive.

The fourth and fifth year group was the largest, likely because these were the students who knew him best. He started this meeting with a more somber speech than he had given to the youngest group. He told them how essential it was that they learned to defend themselves now. He warned that war was on the horizon, and they all needed to be prepared. The group seemed to sense his sincerity, nodding solemnly as he spoke.

They worked on the Impediment Jinx that day. It was one that Harry had perfected in preparation for the Triwizard Tournament. It allowed you to slow down an object or creature as it approached you, leaving you more time to get away or devise a defensive strategy. The students took to the spell fairly well. Everyone was putting in their best effort, clearly inspired by the speech Harry had given. They understood how important this was.

Neville was more serious than Harry had ever seen him. He was putting all his energy into every spell, pushing himself to his limits and beyond. Harry understood perfectly. Just like Harry, Neville knew what it was like to lose people to war. He knew what it felt like to have a happy life ripped from you by violence. Just like Harry, Neville was compelled to fight back.

The group had varying degrees of success with the spell. By the end of the session, most people could perform the jinx, but not everyone could slow down the object by any meaningful amount. That was something that would come with time. Harry jotted down the people who were struggling the most, planning to have them practice more at the next session.

At last, it was time for the final session of the day. Harry was dreading this session because the subject matter was going to be much more serious. Once all the 6th and 7th years had arrived, Harry gave them a similar speech about the need for defensive knowledge before teaching them the Shield Charm.

With this group, instead of having them practice against each other, he assigned two people to each of the practice dummies. They would work as a team to block the dummy's spells. The dummies were a useful tool because they could replicate the appearance of spells without the effects. Harry was using them to demonstrate the importance of knowing what spell you were defending against.

Because the Unforgiveable Curses could not be blocked, it was essential to practice dodging them. For this reason, Harry had set the dummies to fire yellow light to represent normal curses. The students would use the Shield Charm to block those. Intermittently the light would be red (for the Cruciatus), blue (for the Imperius), and green (for the Killing Curse). You could have the best Shield Charm in the world and it wouldn't matter if you got hit with one of those Curses.

The results of the exercise were far from encouraging. People either forgot to dodge or they were so bad at it that they got hit anyway. Every time he saw someone get hit by the green light of the fake Killing Curse, Harry's heart stopped.

By the end of the session, his hands were shaking so badly, he could barely keep ahold of his wand. As everyone trickled out of the room, Harry collapsed into a chair, trying to hold himself together. He hadn't realized that it would be so difficult to watch people get hit. Every flash of green light reminded him of Cedric's corpse and his mother's final screams.

"They'll get better, you know,"

Harry looked up, startled. George hadn't left.

"What if they don't? Or, what if they do, and it still doesn't matter? Cedric knew this stuff! He knew what a Killing Curse looked like, but he still got hit with one!"

"You're giving them information and experience that could save their lives. That's enough!" George said, almost angrily.

"You can't save everyone, but you're doing enough Harry. More than enough."

Harry hoped that George was right. It had to be enough.

It just had to be.

A/N: The Founders' League is born! I hope no one hates that the name has an apostrophe (I know it looks kinda weird, but grammar is grammar). Anyway, I won't always go into detail about each meeting, but I hope this gave you a sense of what Harry's doing.

I hope people understand Harry's motivations for not telling on Umbridge. I know it's frustrating to see him suffer like this and not get help, but I really feel like it's a realistic response from someone like him. He's very good at protecting others...but not so good at protecting himself. Umbridge DEFINITELY won't get away with it, but it'll take a bit of time before anyone finds out.

Thanks for reading! Special thanks to anyone who has commented, followed, or liked. You guys make my day! Next chapter coming Friday!