"That's brilliant, all of you—your spells are making contact faster and harder than they were before. Next week, we'll be working on something new, but we'll keep practicing speed and—" A shrill sound tore through the room, and the order that had reigned while Harry spoke dissolved.
"What—is—that?" Ron bellowed over the noise, looking at Harry for an answer. It was Fred, however, who answered.
"That is a proximity alarm, little brother."
"We set them up—means groups are waiting around all the exits we normally take—and that low one means someone's trying to break in here."
"They won't be in ours," Jack shouted, "I ward our dorm door before we leave." The other Slytherins looked at him in surprise, but he shrugged.
"Not much help to everyone else, is it?" someone shouted.
"You all should go on," Harry said, ignoring that. "Better not all be stuck here." Blaise, who was closest to the wall, nodded, making an archway appear and heading down it, the rest of the Slytherins following him.
"We need some new spots, places we know people won't be," Hermione said. "Harry, do you have the—"
"No." Harry looked furious with himself. By now, the Weasleys had dulled the noise of their alarms.
"A few people can go through to our office," Corrie put in. "No one else will be there, and it's in a central enough location they could slip out and not look suspicious."
"Some of the Hufflepuffs can go to the kitchens," Hannah suggested. "It's right by the common room, and we can stay there as long as we need."
"We can direct a few to open in some of the secret passages," George suggested. "A few people at a time trickling out of those isn't anything abnormal."
More suggestions began to come until everyone had left, Cedric leading Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had insisted on staying until the others were safe. Scanning the room for incriminating details—personal belongings that could be identified, books with names written in the covers, homework left by those who'd gotten there early—Cedric found only one, summoning a parchment which had been adhered to the wall and shoving it in his bag before heading down the tunnel to his office. As he closed the path, he heard the sound of the door being wrenched open and voices pouring in.
Shaken, he turned to see the three fifth years, who looked impossibly young and deeply frightened.
"Anyone for a cup of tea? Best give it a moment before heading out, I think."
/
"It's gotten too big," Andrew said simply, looking around at the others. "It was hard enough to hide that something was going on when we first started and now there's what, over fifty of us? It's not sustainable. Hogwarts isn't that big."
"But we can't just stop letting people come," Cedric said insistently. "Everyone needs it—everyone deserves to be learning it."
"I hate to say it, but Fawley's right—it is too big," Terry put in.
Harry remained silent, and Andrew was pretty sure he'd already come to the same conclusion. He'd been the one to call the meeting, using his mirror to ask the others to meet him at the Three Broomsticks that Saturday, it being a Hogsmeade weekend.
"So we can't just stop, but we also can't keep going," Cedric said. "Glad we have so many solutions available." Cedric wasn't in the best mood, but Andrew couldn't blame him. Umbridge had been dragging him and Cordelia all around the school for the past few days, insisting she had leads on the group that she, in spite of her efforts, had no proof actually existed.
"We don't have to stop meeting," Harry spoke up for the first time since ordering his butterbeer. "We just have to stop meeting the same way. With everyone there at once."
"But if we broke into, say, four groups," Andrew caught on, "with four different people who knew the plan for that week all leading at different times—"
"That's the idea," Harry agreed. "Ron, Hermione, and I started dividing up the groups—it wouldn't make any sense to have it be by house—that way's too noticeable. Here's what we have." He set a piece of parchment out on the table. Someone—probably Hermione—must have been taking notes from the twins, because what at first appeared to be a simple broomstick advertisement soon showed itself to be four lists of names, added in three different hands.
"It shoulder't be my group," Terry commented first. "I know I'm the one with the mirror, but Corrie'd make a better leader—she already knows most of the spells, at least in theory."
"Jack should take mine," Andrew added. "I'm a rubbish teacher, but I can pass the information on to him." Cedric prodded the parchment and the names switched around. A few more changes were suggested, mostly on account of scheduling, but before long, three copies of the parchment had been made and taken by each of the boys, Harry pocketing the original.
"I think it would be best if we all reached out to our groups, let them know the plan," Harry said. "There's only so much Hermione can put on the coins. She's trying to figure out how to let everyone else change them too, so you can still use them to plan your meetings."
"That's a good plan," Cedric agreed. "Keep in touch about it." Finishing his butterbeer, he said his goodbyes and headed out, Terry going with him. Andrew pulled out a few sickles to leave as a tip, and he and Harry pulled on their jackets.
"You have plans for the rest of the day?" Andrew asked.
"Not really—Hermione said she'd get me new quills while she was out, and Ron and I already stopped by Honeydukes. You?"
"Nah," Andrew said with a shrug. "Probably just headed back to go flying—I haven't got a Firebolt, but I imagine my old Nimbus 2001 will hold up for a few more flights." Harry didn't rise to the bait, just rolling his eyes and ignoring Andrew's chuckle.
"Well, well, well—Fawley's got a new friend." An arm wrapped around Andrew's shoulder before he could dodge it, its weight pressing into him. Beside him, Harry was receiving the same treatment.
"Hello, Liam," Andrew said, trying to keep his voice light. "Holden. Lovely day for Hogsmeade."
"Is it? Hadn't noticed. What do you think, Potter—nice day?"
"Great," Harry said, his voice tight. By now, Holden and Liam had maneuvered them onto a side street, out of view of passerby.
"Look at that—his new friend agrees with him. Do you think your new friend is going to protect you from Daddy, Fawley? Denmore didn't sound happy with you last time I heard him talking."
For months, the DA had been learning new spells, its members pushing their speed and force and versatility. For months, Andrew had been contemplating what he would do if someone tried to force him to go where his father called, what spells he'd use to get away.
In that moment, he broke away and turned to punch Liam Urquhart in the jaw.
It was a lot cooler in theory, where he didn't maybe break his hand and become next to useless in the fight.
A minute later, he was on the ground, the air knocked from his lungs, pretty sure his torso was bleeding. Harry was holding his left arm awkwardly, but, for the moment, successfully holding the other two at bay. Andrew propped himself up on his left arm, wincing as he tried to grip his wand with his right.
"Expulso!" It wasn't as strong as he'd done before, but it was effective nevertheless, pushing the other two boys back and nearly knocking them down. They quickly regained their footing, but didn't advance again. Instead, Liam simply made eye contact with Andrew.
"You may have new friends, but let's make one thing clear: I'm not going to let you drag my brother into this mess. I want you the hell away from Jacob, Fawley—you, and Pucey, and Bagley. I'm not going to let you drag him into whatever mess you're making." If Andrew believed this was really why Liam was upset or even why he was concerned about his brother, it would almost have been touching.
"Are we making a mess of something again?" Liam and Holden spun to look at Adrian, who was leaning against the wall of the alley casually. "News to me—did you two need anything else, other than to deliver that message?"
Realizing they were now outnumbered, Liam simply scowled at him.
"C'mon," Holden said, voice low, and Liam followed him back out to the main road, Adrian's eyes following them until he was confident they weren't coming back.
"Shit, Andrew—did you forget how to use a shield charm?" he asked, immediately kneeling next to Andrew to evaluate his injuries. "Potter—make me a cup and fill it with some water, will you?" Harry picked up a rock and transfigured it, filling it with a muttered Aguamenti.
"Right, thanks—Andrew, this is going to hurt a bit—" he poured a bit of the water onto the cut on Andrew's abdomen. Up to that point, Andrew had only known he'd been cut by the blood he'd seen, but as the water hit his skin, it first stung, then began to throb.
"Sorry—haven't worked on cleaning yet," Adrian said, repeating the process, then wiping the mixture of water and blood away with his handkerchief. "Vulnera Sanentur." Adrian paused, and Andrew felt his torso start to itch where the cut had been. "Hmmm…not quite as neat as Pomfrey's. Ferula—just in case. Right…you should be good to stand, but a blood-replenishing potion wouldn't hurt."
"Sounds lovely," Andrew responded.
"Wasn't I supposed to be the impulsive one these days?" Adrian asked, helping him up. "No—sorry, don't answer that. Come on, you two—I've never actually practiced healing broken bones before and I'd rather not have to tell Pomfrey I accidentally vanished either of yours." Harry readily agreed to that, and Andrew wrinkled his nose at the reminder of the other boy's jelly-like arm.
"Yeah—think I'd rather avoid that myself."
/
"Did you see this?" Marietta slammed the week's copy of the Daily Prophet onto the table. The headline read "Dumbledore the Dud: Dolores Umbridge's Rousing Success as Headmaster Sheds New Light on Decades of Incompetence from Predecessor."
"Rousing success?" She demanded. "Who'd they ask, Filch?"
"It's the same color as all of their pieces," Blaise pointed out. "Inaccurate and defamatory—honestly, you'd think someone would've sued by now."
Not all of their small group had arrived to the meeting yet—about half would be coming partway through as it was, on account of a last-minute Quidditch practice.
"Wonder what would happen if they printed something real for once—think anyone would even believe it?" Terry asked.
"Believe what?" Corrie asked, walking over.
"Look at what the Prophet wrote," Marietta said rather than answering, pushing the paper toward Corrie.
"Believe the Prophet if they printed something true," Terry repeated as she read. Corrie's face darkened as she scanned the article.
"This is Skeeter level," she finally said, pushing it back to Marietta.
"What if the Prophet doesn't need to print something true," Blaise asked thoughtfully. "What if the Herald does it?"
"Great—all of Hogwarts will get an exposé on things they already know," Marietta said, rolling her eyes. "Helpful."
"Yes, helpful—that is, supposing it got leaked." The other three looked up at Blaise.
"Mail is being checked," Corrie said.
"Thoroughly," Terry added.
"Yes, and that's lovely information to include in the tell-all, I'm sure. Luckily, people leaving Hogwarts in a moment of grand spectacle aren't being checked." This statement sunk in, and Corrie's eyes widened.
"Happen to know anyone who fits that requirement, any of you?"
"The twins," Corrie breathed, and began to laugh.
"The twins," Blaise agreed. "And I think they'd be thrilled to help us push our distribution beyond the walls of Hogwarts—under a false name, of course. Can't have this besmirching our paper's good name. I'm thinking we release in three weeks? Give our distributors some time to settle into their new home. And anyway, I think you already have this week's headline?"
"I've got a plan, yeah," Marietta said. "But I'd be happy to start looking ahead.
/
Hogwarts Herald, First Week of April, 1996
BE READY.
/
If there was one thing any students who attended Hogwarts at any point between 1989 and 1996 could tell you, it was that Fred and George Weasley did not do things in halves. If that was true when they were eleven, making their mark at Hogwarts, it was surely true at eighteen, as they considered their legacy at the same.
No one felt quite safe all week—and, to be fair, they really weren't: the risk of meeting a firework face to face or falling into a swamp on the way to class had never been higher. This, however, didn't stop their antics from raising the morale of Hogwarts enormously, largely due to one fact: any student might at any point fall prey to the next step of the twins' farewell, but Dolores Umbridge certainly would, and that made it all worth it.
When they left, brooms trailing chains, to the cheers of Hogwarts students and a salute from Peeves, everyone was so focused on what they'd left behind that no one spared a thought for what they may have taken with them. Their farewell was all anyone talked about for a week—and, really, it was by their choice that it only lasted that long. After all, they'd had a hand in what came next.
/
Hogwarts Herald, Fourth Week of April, 1996
Drama from Dolores: Behind the Scenes of Dolores Umbridge's Rise To Power
Hogwarts students, friends, and family: we're sure you've heard the glowing review our Ministry has given Dolores Umbridge during her career in educational leadership. They've called it remarkable, revealing, and, most of all, a rousing success, detailing practices ranging from educational decrees to mandated quality inspections for her fellow teachers.
Now, we invite you to come with us—your friends, children, nieces and nephews, and other relations—and peek behind the curtain of this institution, from contract quills to mandated mail checks.
This is the story of Dolores Umbridge's Hogwarts. We certainly agree that it has been both remarkable and revealing, but we leave the decision of whether it's been a rousing success up to you…
