Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Dumbledore's Army

When Harry came back to the Gryffindor common room later that week, he found Ron and Hermionie waiting up for him with an incredibly soothing bowl of murtlap (A/N: my computer says it isn't a word) essence. At first, he was just too grateful to wonder why, but then they sprang the news on him.

"Me? I can't teach, you've got to be joking."

"No, man, we're serious!" Ron said, leaning on the table.

"We'll just invite a few people, our best friends, don't worry." Hermione said, absently knitting a hat.

"But… no, I'm no teacher! I've just been really lucky. You guys have been there in the middle of it with me, I've always had help…"

"Not really, you did the entire Triwizard…" Ron got cut off then, by Harry exploding in a rant about how he really didn't do anything. The bowl of murtlap went flying, and both his friends ducked a bit.

Hermione saw her chance when he paused to take a breath. "You see, Harry… this is exactly what we need. If we're really going to have to face V-Voldemort…"

Harry did stop ranting at that. Just the fact that Hermionie dared say the name meant that she was really, really serious. And maybe, more than a little worried. "…I'll think about it, okay?" he said after a while.

"Great. That's excellent, Harry!" Hermionie said, beaming. She finished the bobbles on the elf hat, and went off to bed. Ron left just after too, leaving Harry with a throbbing hand, wishing he hadn't thrown a tantrum and smashed the bowl.

Just before the first Hogsmeade weekend, Harry agreed to try teaching the group. "So, how many people are you two inviting?"

"Oh, just a few." Hermione's answer came maybe a little quick, but luckily Harry didn't notice. He reached across Ron to snag a biscuit, and happened to catch a glance of the Slytherin table. Ryua had just smacked Goyle on the back of the head for trying to strangle some first year or other.

"What about her?" Harry asked, grabbing the strawberry jam on the way back to his seat.

"Who?" Ron asked, shoving Harry off his lap.

"Ryua. She's our friend, right?"

Hermionie glanced over at Ryua, now serenely eating chicken noodle soup. "Well, yes, of course, but she's a Slytherin."

"Yeah. But, she's not exactly mainstream, is she? I mean, she's not a prefect,"

"Neither are you, and you're as Gryffindor as it gets." Ron said, stealing Harry's jam and dodging a fork stab on the way.

"Fine then, how about this? She hates Umbridge as much as I do. And visa-versa." At the thought of his least favorite teacher, Harry's crackers crumbled into dust into his soup. "She's still using her left hand, in fact," he finished quietly.

"Okay, it's your class anyway. Ask her in Potions then, we've got that next."

Ryua was still favoring her right hand. Part of it was habit, of course, but it still twinged. And for the fact that Pansy had tattled on her for being a bit rude on the quidditch pitch, Umbridge had given her another three days detention. Which of course only made her more determined to get back at the nasty, horrendous excuse for a woman in any way possible.

So, when Harry whispered his plan on the way out from Potions, Ryua was all too happy to agree. "That's absolutely brilliant! That's exactly what we need. I can curse just about anything out of existence, but I was hoping for someone who could teach me the rest. When do we start?"

"Ah… at the Hogshead, this Hogsmeade weekend. Oh, and I don't mean to sound rude, or prejudiced…"

"But don't tell anyone?" Ryua finished, hiding a smile. "Yeah, as if. I'm not exactly thrilled with my house right about now. Why would I give up a chance to actually be around decent people? Well, Potter," Ryua said in a louder voice, "Hopefully you'll actually pass this assignment for a change. I'm getting bored of tutoring you."

"Well, Malfoy, you'd better have told me something right this time, or else I'll be seeing you again and again…"

"Oh, don't make me gag," Ryua sneered as she turned down to the common room. It wasn't until she was alone in the washrooms that she allowed herself an altogether happy grin. Finally, a way to get back at Umbridge, and decent company to boot. Not to mention actually learning something…

Hogsmeade weekend seemed to take forever to arrive, but eleven quidditch practices, 38 meals, and 12 mornings later, she woke up and immediately pulled out her out-of-school clothes on. A soft, fitted lavender top, which she of course hid under a long green cardigan, and an extremely comfortable pair of black suede pants. Black, knee-length dragon hide boots and a matching shoulder bag for Parsyl and money completed the outfit, and she was up eating breakfast within 15 minutes.

She fairly bounced onto the carriages to Hogsmeade, causing Draco to look at her a little oddly. "Ryua, what's gotten into you? Have you been practicing cheering charms or something?"

"Don't be silly, you know I can't cast the bloody things," Ryua said, trying to force herself to calm down. "I'm just glad to be getting away from that revolting, pudgy, slimy, fashion-challenged, pathetic…"

"Umbridge?"

"Yeah. It."

She managed to get Draco enthralled at Zonko's, and slipped out while he was elbow deep in a bin full of something vaguely alive and twitching. Ryua figured that he wouldn't have the guts to go to the Hogshead without her along, he'd just go make fun of some poor first years at the Three Broomsticks. She came in to see a nervous looking Harry, flanked by Ron and Hermione, who appeared to be there just to keep him from running away. Fred and George Weasley weren't far behind, and she noticed that they looked rather happy to have a semi-legitimate excuse to be in such a dodgy place. "D'you reckon they'd have Blastapod sap here?" Fred asked.

"Hope so, otherwise we'll have to get to Knockturn Alley somehow, and that means summer break, or Christmas at the soonest…" George replied with a sigh. Ryua had no trouble telling them apart, although she couldn't tell you how. She figured it had to be a twin thing.

"Of course they do," she said, sliding onto a stool beside them. "It's one of the main ingredients in the 'Extra Hextra Sizzlers'."

Both twins looked at her with wide, calculating eyes. "And you would know…"

"How? And could you get some for us?"

"Well, it's not precisely legal, as I'm sure you've found out. Most of the drinks here are actually not-exactly-curriculum potions. The kind you can use to enslave someone's will, or burn them up from the inside out, that sort of thing."

Fred's eyes glinted, and George got a slightly maniacal grin. "Excellent. Maybe we'll have to get our hands on some… samples."

"Stick with your Blastapod slime first, show that you won't get caught and rat them out. Just flash a little gold to get some attention…" Parsyl handed up a galleon to Ryua's hand as she spoke, "And you'll get someone who can help you."

George caught the coin as she flipped it over, and looked meaningfully at the server behind the counter. Within seconds, there was a slightly disreputable character at his elbow. "And what can I get for you, young masters?"

"We've heard you might have a bit of a certain type of slime."

"Used for blowing things up."

"We thought we could take a bit of the excess off your hands."

"And give you a bit of compensation, of course."

The wizard, Dryden, Ryua recalled, got a bit of a slimy grin on his face. "Well, I'm not entirely sure if I remember whether we have any or not…"

"Oh, stuff it, Dryden." Ryua said, polishing her wand and not even bothering to look at the man in question. "You know exactly what they're asking for, and you know very well where it is. And, I wouldn't advise cheating them on this. If they don't catch you, I certainly will."

He gulped, and shuffled in back to bring out a well-padded vial of the stuff. "Thanks," Fred said, raising a bottle of Butterbeer in a toast after he handed over a fair amount of coins.

"Yeah," George continued. "If you ever need any prank products, potions, or just plain backup threats, we're your guys."

"I'll keep it in mind. Zonko's not quite violent enough for my tastes…" Ryua replied. "We'd better get over to the meeting, though, even the three of us look suspicious in a place like this."

Ryua hung back in the crowd, trying not to get noticed while Hermione explained the idea. Still, one of the Hufflepuffs pointed a finger at her the moment agreeing not to tell came up. "What about her? She's a Slytherin."

"And you're a Hufflepuff. Brilliant of you to notice. I suppose that means you've learned your primary colors then?" Ryua retorted, leaning on a table.

The boy blushed a deep red, but kept on going, not talking directly to Ryua. "You can't be serious. I'm not going to practice with a Slytherin! She'll either kill us or rat us out."

For the first time, Harry spoke up, quietly. "I don't think she will myself, Smith. If you don't want to stay, you don't have to."

"Yes, we all actually want to learn, because… Lord Voldemort is back." Hermionie said, bringing a chorus of gasps, shrieks, and assorted similar responses. Ryua crushed a shudder. It's not as if he's right here in the Hogshead. He'd be jumping all over Harry if he was anywhere near enough to do any harm. Still, she'd been brought up to fear and respect that name…

She shook herself out of musings to notice that Harry was trying to say he hadn't done anything, and everyone was coming up with lists of things he had done. "I don't know what you were paying attention to last year, Potter, but I happened to be watching the Triwizard. Acromantula, dragons… getting through that lake challenge… that might be just a little show of your strength."

Harry was fighting a loosing battle, saying that he couldn't teach, and it soon rolled around to times. "We need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice…"

"No, nor with ours,"

"Nor ours,"

"And I'll make you wish you were never born if you try to schedule over mine." Odd, how every Quidditch captain happened to be in the group…

Luckily, Hermione and Ernie Macmillan salvaged the situation, by pulling it onto a righteous speech about needing protection during this critical time. And when Hermione finally pulled out a list, Ryua was just after Fred and George writing her name down. She cheerfully waved on her way out the door, noting with disdain how Chang was hanging around. How obviously desperate can you get…

Draco found her looking in a bookstore window a few minutes later. "Where have you been all this time?"

"I got bored watching you play with bugs and went for a drink." Which was the truth, or close enough that Draco shouldn't pick up the lie.

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long. First I couldn't get the chapter written, then I couldn't get to the library, then my disk decided to unformat last week, and this is the first day I've gotten to the library since.

I have a bit of a rant. I don't normally do it, but I just feel like it. Last chapter, I only got two reviews, and I was a little sad. Any reviews are good, but still...
So when I saw someone else had reviewed, I was happy.Only to findout it was a very nasty flame. I've left it on my review page, because it only seems fair to give everyone their free speech, but it hurt.
I know I've been following the books, and not using my own ideas the whole time. But, this is my first fic. I've been starting up slow. Maybe it's not the best written in the world, but I've been having real difficulties gettting anyone to beta my work, and I think I've gotten better now.
And even though I've just learned that if I can stretch it out till July, I'll have the sixth book, I'm going to start my own storyline at the end of this book anyway. Avalon 64 knows this, if anyone has any doubts.
So, I have a little Christmas request. It seems like such a waste of time to trash someone's work. If you have some suggestions, or actual, specific things you'd like me to change, by all means, tell me. I've been thinking how to word this little speech for a few days, since I got the flame. And I decided that it would be best to go back to a very early message most kids get, then forget:

"If you can't say somethin' nice, don't say nuthin' at all."
-Thumper