Educational Decree Number Twenty-four

Dean was preoccupied by thoughts of his encounter with a Demon for much of the weekend, but, as always, Cas found a way to focus his attention. The last burst of autumn sunshine persisted, so they sat outside with their homework, instead of hunching over a table in the library. Cas brought his cauldron with him and coaxed Dean into teaching him some more, but found he still had a block about some ingredients, and the fire. Dean gently helped him move past his frustration and he completed his first fifth-year potion almost perfectly. His smile at his success was enough to put Dean in a good mood for the rest of the day, and he went to bed on Sunday night feeling upbeat and ready to help Harry teach.

Dean was up early on Monday morning, and was the first to see the large sign affixed to the Gryffindor noticeboard, covering everything else on it. It was printed in large black letters and there was an official seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature. Dean squinted at it, reading it slowly.

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded.

An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.

Permission to reform may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).

No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.

Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.

Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor

In the time it took for Dean to read it, others began to notice it too, as they emerged from their dormitories.

'Does this mean they're going to shut down the Gobstones Club?' an anxious second-year said next to Dean.

'I reckon you'll be all right with Gobstones,' Ron said behind them, making them both jump. 'I don't reckon we'll be so lucky,' he said to Harry and Dean, as the second-year hurried away.

'This can't be a coincidence,' Harry said, clenching his fists. 'She knows.'

'She can't,' Ron said at once.

'There were people listening in that pub. And let's face it, we don't know how many people who turned up we can trust… any of them could have run off and told Umbridge…'

'Zacharias Smith!' said Ron. 'Or - I thought that Michael Corner had a really shifty look, too-'

Dean rolled his eyes. 'Please, you're only saying that 'cause he's going out with your sister.'

'That's totally not-'

'I wonder if Hermione's seen this yet,' Harry interrupted, looking around at the girls' dormitories.

'Let's go and tell her,' said Ron.

'Oh, I wouldn't do that,' Dean said, but Ron was already bounding towards the spiral staircase.

He was on the sixth stair when there was a loud, wailing klaxon-like sound and the steps melted together to make a long, smooth stone slide. There was a brief moment when Ron tried to keep running, arms working like windmills, then he toppled over backwards and slid back down, landing at Harry's feet.

'Er - I don't think we're allowed in the girls' dormitory,' Harry laughed, pulling Ron to his feet.

'I didn't realise that would happen. It's not fair!'

'I tried to warn you,' Dean grinned.

'Hermione's allowed in our dormitory, how come we're not allowed -?'

'Well, it's an old-fashioned rule,' said Hermione, as she slid neatly onto the rug in front of them, 'but it says in Hogwarts: A History, that the founders thought boys were less trustworthy than girls. Anyway, why were you trying to get in there?'

'To see you - look at this!' Ron dragged her over to the noticeboard.

Hermione quickly read it and her expression became stony.

'Someone must have blabbed to her!' Ron said angrily.

'They can't have done,' said Hermione in a low voice.

'You're so naive,' said Ron, 'you think just because you're all honourable and trustworthy-'

'No, they can't have done, because I put a jinx on that piece of parchment we all signed,' Hermione said grimly. 'Believe me, if anyone's run off and told Umbridge, we'll know exactly who they are, and they will really regret it.'

'What'll happen to them?' Ron asked eagerly.

'Well, put it this way, it'll make Eloise Midgeon's acne look like a couple of cute freckles.'

'Brutal, I like it,' Dean grinned. 'Do me a favour, though, don't tell Cas. I don't think he would approve.'

Hermione nodded, and Sherlock emerged from the boys' dormitory, his hair wild from sleep.

'Can't Mycroft do something about this?' Ron asked, pointing at the notice.

Sherlock took a moment to read it. 'Mycroft believes he's far too important to get involved with something as trivial as a school curriculum,' he mumbled.

'Being Head of the Department of Mysteries, he might not be entirely wrong,' John yawned, as he too descended the staircase.

Sherlock shot him an angry look, and John rolled his eyes.

'Trouble in paradise?' Dean asked as Sherlock stomped away.

'Ignore him, he's just being grouchy,' said John. 'He pretends that he doesn't need to sleep, then he stays awake for way too long and gets like this.'

'Come on, let's get down to breakfast… I wonder whether this has been put up in all the houses…'

It was immediately apparent upon entering the Great Hall that Umbridge's sign had not only appeared in Gryffindor Tower. There was a peculiar intensity about the chatter and an extra measure of movement in the Hall as people scurried up and down their tables conferring on what they had read.

Sam appeared in front of them and grabbed Dean, concern clear on his face.

'What's wrong?' Dean frowned, bending slightly to Sam could whisper in his ear.

'It's Cas,' said Sam, pointing down the Gryffindor table. 'He's been here all morning, just staring. I tried to help, but I can't get near him, his Shield Charm's up again.'

Dean looked up and saw the gap in students, and Castiel's dark head of hair. John was sitting opposite, his brow creased. 'Thanks, Sam, I'll take care of it.' Dean sat himself down beside Cas, as close as he could without getting shocked by his Shield Charm. Cas didn't seem to notice Dean was there, he just stared ahead, a spoon in one hand, the other hand clenched into a fist, and an empty bowl sat in front of him.

'Hey, Cas, what's going on?' Dean asked with a smile.

Cas didn't respond.

'I don't think he's well,' John said.

'Yeah, but there's nothing we can do until he drops his Shield Charm, right, Cas?'

Cas blinked and the spoon fell out of his hand.

'Hey, don't you have Quidditch practice today?' Dean asked. 'Can I come? They're not gonna think I'm spying, or anything, are they?'

Cas blinked again and sighed, finally letting go of his Shield Charm.

'Hey, man,' Dean said warmly. 'Why don't we go out now? Get some fresh air?'

Cas nodded and stood, trembling, and led the way outside.

Dean waited until he was sure they were alone before speaking. 'Hey, what happened?' he asked.

Cas shook his head. 'I don't - I don't know,' he mumbled.

'Do you need to go to the Shrieking Shack?'

'No, no, no,' Cas said, rubbing his arm. 'I - I can't - I have her first, I can't-'

'Cas, if you have to go, you have to go.'

Cas shook his head again. 'I thought I needed to, but then I saw her at the table, and I - I couldn't move, and I could feel it coming out, but I couldn't move.'

'It's okay, Cas, let's just go, you'll be all right.'

'I can't, I can't.' But he groaned loudly and held his head.

'Cas, come on.'

Cas looked back up at the castle, then out at the grounds, and finally gave up. 'All right.'

They made inside the Shrieking Shack just in time, Cas beginning to glow while they were still crawling in the tunnel. He broke a few of the chairs and the bed again, which Dean fixed for him while he slept it off. Dean didn't think Cas would want to sleep for that long, so Dean woke him after an hour.

'Sorry,' he said. 'Do you need more time to rest?'

'No,' Cas mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

'There's gotta be a better way than this,' Dean said, passing Cas some water.

'Not that I know of.'

Dean sat next to Cas on the bed. 'Are you - are you sure you can't get an Obscurus?'

Cas sighed. 'If it had been triggered when I was younger, I probably would have,' he admitted. 'I'm too old now.'

'It's just that your power - it's really similar to what happens to Obscurials.'

Cas shrugged. 'Dumbledore says the leading theory is that the first Obscurials were people like me - descended from the mountain creatures. They were more likely to suppress their power and the Obscurus fed on them, turning their power against them. But the more they mixed with wizards, the more the Obscurae adapted. They learned to infect young wizards too, but the infection will always mimick ours. At least, that's what Dumbledore thinks.'

'That's dark.'

'I agree.' Cas stood up and stretched. 'I think we should go. I can still make it to Transfiguration.' He stumbled slightly and made his way back through the tunnel.

'We should really make that tunnel bigger,' Dean said as they crawled out underneath the Whomping Willow. 'You didn't have any breakfast, do you wanna stop in the kitchens first?'

'No, thank you.'

'Cool. I'll walk you to Transfiguration, I'm only missing History of Magic anyway.'

Cas rolled his eyes.

'So, what set it off this morning?' Dean asked as they walked across the lawn. 'Was it that notice? I'm pretty sure we're doing the defence lessons anyway, but if you're worried, you don't have to do it.'

'No, it's not that. I still want to do it.' Cas hesitated. 'I dreamed about Gabriel last night. Everything was reminding me of him this morning, and I got afraid that something happened to him.' Cas looked away, embarrassed.

'I get it,' said Dean. 'I dream about bad stuff happening to Sam too, sometimes. But I'm sure Gabriel's okay. He's tough.'

'He is,' Cas agreed.

They climbed the stone steps into the castle, but Cas stopped dead in the Entrance Hall.

'What-' Dean began, but then saw what he was staring at.

Professor Umbridge was standing in front of the marble staircase, arms folded, smiling sweetly at them 'Ah, there you are, Mr Edlund. I missed you in my class this morning.'

Cas bit his lip.

'Would you care to explain why you were absent without my permission?'

'I - I was sick,' Cas mumbled, staring down at his feet.

'Speak up please.'

Cas squeezed his eyes shut. 'I was sick,' he repeated, only slightly louder than he'd said before.

'Oh, I see. You'll have a note from Madam Pomfrey.' She held out a hand expectantly.

'I - I - It's-' Cas glanced at Dean.

'It's a long term issue,' Dean took over, much to Cas's relief. 'He's allowed to leave class whenever he needs.'

'And what exactly is this "long term issue"?' Umbridge asked, her voice taking on an even more sugary tone.

'That's private information,' Dean said, narrowing his eyes. 'He doesn't have to tell you.'

'I am the High Inquisitor-'

'That gives you the right to inspect teachers and review the curriculum. It doesn't give you the right to know students' private medical information. It's between us, Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey, and that's all you need to know.'

'And what exactly are you doing out of class, Mr Winchester?'

'I have permission from Professor McGonagall to help Cas if he needs it.'

'I'm sure he can handle it on his own-'

'I'm sorry, are you trained in healing?' Dean said, heat rising in his face. 'Cas is under Madam Pomfrey's care, and it's up to her, not you, what help Cas does or doesn't need. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're late for class.'

Dean grabbed Cas's hand and pulled him away before Umbridge could say anything else, only stopping when he was sure they were out of earshot. 'I'm sorry, I know you don't like being grabbed,' Dean said, letting go of Cas's hand, 'but I had to get you outta there.'

'It's fine,' Cas said breathlessly, leaning against a wall, fists clenched. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees, forcing himself to breathe deeply.

'You got it?' said Dean.

Cas nodded, working through his panic.

'What's this all about, Cas?' Dean asked, when Cas finally straightened up. 'You panic every time someone's mad, and sometimes not even at you. What happened to you, man?'

Cas looked away.

'Does someone hurt you when they get mad?' Dean said, carefully taking a step back so Cas wouldn't feel trapped. 'Gabriel told me some stuff about your sister… Did she do that to you?'

'This is nothing to do with Lucy,' Cas snapped, shouldering his bag. 'I have to go, I'm late for Transfiguration.'

Dean didn't argue, and let Cas pass, but he stopped a few paces away.

'I'll meet you at the Quidditch pitch after dinner. You can work on your Charms essay in the stands.'

'Okay.' He let Cas walk away, then made his way up to History of Magic, just in time to catch the last few minutes of Professor Binns' droning lecture.

'Where's Harry?' Dean asked Ron as he sidled into Harry's empty seat.

'Hedwig turned up at the window,' Ron told him. 'She looked hurt so Harry took her to find someone to heal her.'

'Gotcha.'

'Where've you been?'

'What, you think I don't have anything better to do than listen to Binns?'

Ron sniggered, and Hermione tutted.

They found Harry again on their way down to the dungeons.

'Is Hedwig okay?' Hermione asked.

'Where did you take her?' said Ron.

'To Grubbly-Plank,' said Harry. 'And I met McGonagall… she said communications in and out of the castle are being watched.'

'I'd be more surprised if they weren't,' Sherlock said, catching up with them on his way to Herbology.

'No Cas?' Dean asked.

'No, he's still not feeling well. He's gone to the hospital wing.'

'Damn.'

'Who's the letter from?' John asked, struggling to keep up with everyone else's much longer legs.

'Snuffles,' Harry said quietly, and Ron took the letter from him.

'"Same time, same place". Does he mean the fire in the common room?'

'Obviously,' said Hermione, also reading the note. 'I hope no one else has read this…'

'But it was still sealed and everything,' said Harry. 'And no one would understand what it meant if they didn't know where we'd spoken to him before, would they?'

'I don't know,' Hermione said anxiously, 'it wouldn't exactly be difficult to re-seal it by magic.'

'Pass it over,' said John, holding out his hand. Ron gave it to him and he frowned, turning it over. 'Nothing,' he said, giving it back to Harry.

'That's good, right?'

'No, I don't feel anything at all. Last time, I could feel that he was annoyed about something, but this is just nothing.'

'It could mean someone was trying to cover their tracks,' Sherlock suggested.

'That would make sense,' John nodded, giving Harry the letter back. 'I don't see him getting caught though, if that helps.'

'We'll just have to risk it,' said Hermione. 'There's no way of warning him without that being intercepted too.'

They separated in the Entrance Hall, Sherlock leaving for Herbology, and the rest of them descending into the dungeons for Potions.

Draco Malfoy was already standing outside Snape's classroom door, waving around an official-looking piece of parchment and talking much louder than was necessary.

'Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to keep playing straight away, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry… it'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor will be allowed to keep playing, won't it?'

'Don't rise,' Hermione whispered, 'it's what he wants.'

'I mean, if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much of a chance… from what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years… and as for Potter… my father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St Mungo's… apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic.'

Neville charged past them, knocking Harry aside and heading straight for Malfoy.

'Neville, no!'

Harry leapt forward and seized the back of Neville's robes; Neville struggled frantically, his fists flailing, trying desperately to get to Malfoy who looked, for a moment, extremely shocked.

Dean and Ron jumped on Neville as well, forcing him away from the Slytherins and back into the Gryffindor line.

Neville's face was scarlet and he was barely comprehensible through his blind fury.

'Not - funny - don't - Mungo's - show - him -'

The dungeon door opened and Snape appeared there. His black eyes swept the Gryffindor line. 'Fighting, are we?' he said in his cold, sneering voice. 'Ten points from Gryffindor. Release Longbottom or it will be detention. Inside, all of you.'

They let go of Neville, who was panting heavily, and he glared at them.

'I had to stop you,' Harry gasped, picking up his bag. 'Crabbe and Goyle would've torn you apart.'

Neville said nothing. He merely snatched up his own bag and stalked into the dungeon.

'What in the name of Merlin was that about?' said Ron.

Dean didn't know, but the looks on Harry and John's faces told him that they did, though he was sure they wouldn't be willing to share.

They went inside and took their usual seats at the back of the class. They pulled out parchment, quills, and their copies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. The class around them were whispering about what Neville had just done, but when Snape closed the door with an echoing bang, everyone immediately fell silent.

'You will notice,' said Snape, 'that we have a guest with us today.' He gestured towards the dim corner of the dungeon, and they saw Umbridge sitting there with her clipboard on her knee.

'We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson; if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend. Instructions are on the board, carry on.'

Dean had to rely on his book again to finish his potion. He still couldn't read what was on the board, so he couldn't tell if he was following Snape's instructions well enough, but it seemed to match what the book said it should look like, so Dean continued uneasily.

Umbridge spent the first half an hour making notes in her corner, then got up to ask Snape some questions.

'Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level,' she said briskly. 'Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that were removed from the syllabus.'

Snape slowly turned to look at her.

'Now… how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?' she asked.

'Fourteen years.'

'You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?'

'Yes,' Snape said quietly.

'But you were unsuccessful?'

Snape's lip curled. 'Obviously.'

Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard and Dean bit back his amused smile.

'And you have applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?'

'Yes,' Snape said quietly. He looked very angry.

'Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?'

'I suggest you ask him.'

'Oh, I shall,' said Umbridge, with a sweet smile.

'I suppose this is relevant?' Snape asked.

'Oh yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers' - er - backgrounds.' She then turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson and began questioning her about the lesson.

Harry's potion had been congealing in his cauldron and Dean wrinkled his nose as it began to issue foul black smoke that smelled like burnt rubber. Snape swept over and peered down his nose at it.

'No marks again, then, Potter,' he said, emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. 'You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?'

'Yes,' Harry said furiously. Snape had already given them homework, and Harry was meant to be at Quidditch practice that evening.

'Maybe I can skive Divination,' Harry said glumly, as they stood in the courtyard during lunch. 'I'll pretend to be ill and do Snape's essay instead, then I won't have to stay up half the night.

'You can't skive off Divination,' said Hermione.

'Not in front of two prefects you can't,' Dean sniggered.

'Hark who's talking, you walked out of Divination, you hate Trelawney!' Ron said indignantly.

'I don't hate her, I just think she's an absolutely appalling teacher and a real old fraud.'

'She's not that bad,' John said reproachfully. He'd developed something of a soft spot for her since she'd given him her most prized possession.

'Besides that, Harry's already missed History of Magic today, and I don't think he ought to miss anything else today.'

Harry groaned, but half an hour later, he was sitting in his regular seat next to Ron in the Divination classroom. Dean sat in his seat beside John, and noticed that John was looking quite nauseous.

'You okay?' he asked.

John nodded, but his jaw was clenched tightly.

Professor Trelawney herself was in a foul mood. She slammed a copy of The Dream Oracle on the table between Harry and Ron, threw the next copy at Seamus and Dean Thomas, and thrust the final one into Neville's chest so hard he slipped off his seat.

'Well, carry on!' she said loudly, her voice high-pitched and hysterical, 'you know what to do! Or am I such a sub-standard teacher that you have never learned how to open a book!'

The class stared at her, perplexed, as she flounced back to her chair.

'Professor?' Parvati said tentatively. 'Is there anything - er - wrong?'

'Wrong!' cried Trelawney. 'Certainly not! I have been insulted, certainly… insinuations have been made against me… unfounded accusations levelled… but no, there is nothing wrong, certainly not!' She took a great, shuddering breath and looked away, angry tears spilling from under her glasses. 'I say nothing of sixteen years of devoted service… it has passed, apparently, unnoticed… but I shall not be insulted, no, I shall not!'

'But, Professor, who's insulting you?' Parvati asked.

'The Establishment!'

John groaned quietly.

'Yes, those with eyes too clouded by the mundane to See as I See, to Know as I Know… of course, we Seers have always been feared, always persecuted…it is - alas - our fate.' She gulped and dabbed at her wet cheeks with the end of her shawl.

'Professor,' said Parvati, 'do you mean… is it something Professor Umbridge -?'

'Do not speak to me about that woman!' cried Trelawney, leaping to her feet, her beads rattling. 'Kindly continue with your work!'

John groaned again, clapped a hand over his mouth and fled from the room, leaving Dean to flip absently through the book alone.

Trelawney didn't appear to notice John's departure, and spent the rest of the lesson striding among them, muttering what sounded like threats under her breath.

'... may well choose to leave… the indignity of it… on probation…we shall see… how she dares…'

'You and Umbridge have got something in common,' Harry said to Hermione, when they met on the way to Defence Against the Dark Arts. 'She obviously reckons Trelawney's an old fraud too… looks like she's put her on probation.'

'Good afternoon, class,' said Umbridge, once they were all settled in their seats, John slipping through the door at the last moment, still looking quite queasy.

'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,' they chanted drearily.

'Wands away, please.'

But no one had bothered to take them out in the first place.

'Please turn to page thirty-four of Defensive Magical Theory and read the third chapter entitled "The Case for Non-Offensive Responses to Magical Attack". There will be no need to talk.'

Dean knew before even opening the book that it was all rubbish, but he knew that Cas would want him to take it as an opportunity to practice reading, so he flipped to the chapter and got started.

His eyes were itching by the end of the lesson, but he ignored it, hurrying through dinner and down to the Quidditch pitch.

It was cold in the stands, but Dean made himself comfortable enough by conjuring a small fire in a jar at his feet. He watched the pitch for a while as the Ravenclaw team shot out from the changing rooms. They all looked around in concern; Cas was missing.

'Have you seen him?' Roger Davies, captain of the team, called to Dean.

'No,' Dean shouted back. 'He was sick earlier, give him a minute.'

Roger nodded and began drilling the team, glancing around every so often.

Just as Dean was getting worried himself, and considering going to look for Cas, a blue blur raced overhead, and Cas finally appeared. He flew over to Roger first, then got himself into position with the other Chasers.

Dean pulled out his essay, but his eyes kept getting drawn to Cas working on formations. He forced himself to work, but it went slowly, and he only got one paragraph done by the time Cas came to check on him. Roger left the Chasers to go over strategy with the Beaters, so Cas jumped up on his broom and surfed it the length of the stadium, standing on it in front of Dean. He held out his hands for the parchment and quill and swiftly read through it.

'This is good so far,' he said, 'but this sentence here is a little backwards.' He circled it, then Roger blew his whistle, so he handed the parchment back to Dean and flew back into formation.

They split into two teams and played a friendly match with each other, which ended with Cas against the rest of the team, all of them unsuccessful in trying to stop him from scoring. He did a victory lap of the pitch, and Roger looked very pleased.

Dean met Cas outside once they were done. He hadn't changed out of his robes yet, and seemed reluctant to do so.

'Feeling better?' Dean asked him as they walked back to the castle together.

'Not really,' Cas admitted. 'I wanted to practice though.'

'Going back to the hospital wing, then?'

'No, I'll come up with you. Will you be all right working by yourself for a while?'

'Yeah, sure.'

When they arrived, Fred and George were demonstrating some of their Skiving Snack boxes, which Hermione clearly disapproved of with loud tutts.

'Just go and stop them, then,' Harry said irritably.

'I can't, they're not technically doing anything wrong,' Hermione said through gritted teeth. 'They're quite within their rights to eat the foul things themselves and I can't find a rule that says the other idiots aren't entitled to buy them, not unless they're proven to be dangerous in some way.'

'They aren't,' Cas said, from his comfortable spot curled up in an armchair. 'I've tested them, and I have all the antidotes just in case.'

'You tested them?' Dean asked.

'Not like that. My mother made antidotes, she showed me how to test poisons.'

'Oh,' Dean said, glancing at Sherlock, who had also noticed Cas's almost casual mention of his mother.

It was a long while before the crowd around the Weasley twins finally dispersed, and even longer before they finished counting their takings from the evening.

Dean finished his essay and Cas took it from him to check over. He sat with it in his hands, but his eyes were glazed and stayed in the same spot on the parchment.

'Cas,' Dean prompted gently.

Cas closed his eyes and sighed. 'I'm sorry,' he said, giving Dean his essay back.

'That's okay, it's not due yet, we can look at it another time. Besides, I'm pretty confident about this one.'

'Oh, are you?' Cas said, smiling at him.

'Uh huh,' Dean grinned, leaning on the chair.

Just then, there was a soft pop, and Sirius's head appeared in the fire.

'Hi,' Sirius said, and they all crowded closer to the fire. 'How're things?'

'Not that good,' said Harry. 'The Ministry's forced through another decree, which means we're not allowed Quidditch teams-'

'Or secret Defence Against the Dark Arts groups?' said Sirius.

'How did you know about that?' Harry demanded.

'You want to choose your meeting places more carefully. The Hog's Head, I ask you.'

'Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!' Hermione said defensively. 'That's always packed with people -'

'Which means you'd have been harder to overhear,' said Sirius. 'You've got a lot to learn, Hermione.'

'Who overheard us?' said Harry.

'Mundungus, of course,' said Sirius, and when they all looked puzzled he laughed. 'He was the witch under the veil.'

'That was Mundungus?' Harry said, stunned. 'What was he doing in the Hog's Head?'

'What do you think he was doing? Keeping an eye on you, of course.'

'I'm still being followed?' Harry asked angrily.

'Yeah, you are,' said Sirius, 'and just as well, isn't it, if the first thing you're going to do on your weekend off is organise an illegal defence group.'

But he looked neither angry nor worried. On the contrary, he was looking at Harry with distinct pride.

'Why was Dung hiding from us?' asked Ron, sounding disappointed. 'We'd have liked to see him.'

'He was banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago, and that batman's got a long memory. We lost Moody's spare Invisibility Cloak when Sturgis got arrested, so Dung's been dressing as a witch a lot lately… anyway…first of all, Ron, I've sworn to pass on a message from your mother.'

'Oh yeah?' Ron said apprehensively.

'She says on no account whatsoever are you to take part in an illegal Defence Against the Dark Arts group. She says you'll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there'll be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also advised the rest of you not to proceed with the group, though she accepts she has no authority over any of you, and simply begs you to remember she has your best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you'd all have been in real trouble, and she can't say it for herself because she's on duty tonight.'

'On duty doing what?' Ron said quickly.

'Never you mind, just stuff for the Order,' said Sirius.

John made a noise of discomfort from the sofa he was sitting and they all turned to see him rubbing his chest, wincing.

'What is it?' said Sherlock.

'Er… nothing, it's nothing.'

Ron turned back to Sirius. 'So you want me to say I'm not going to take part in the Defence group?'

'Me? Certainly not! I think it's an excellent idea!'

'You do?' said Harry.

'Of course I do!' said Sirius. 'D'you think your father and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?'

'But - last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not to take risks-'

'Last year, all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!' Sirius said impatiently. 'This year, we know there's someone outside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves is a very good idea!'

'And if we do get expelled?' Hermione asked.

'Hermione, this was all your idea!' said Harry.

'I know it was. I just wondered what Sirius thought.'

'Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue. How are you organising this group anyway? Where are you meeting?'

'Well, that's a bit of a problem now,' said Harry. 'Dunno where we're going to be able to go.'

'How about the Shrieking Shack?' Sirius suggested.

'No,' Cas and Dean said immediately, and everyone stared at them.

'There isn't room,' Cas mumbled.

'It's our secret makeout spot,' Dean grinned and Cas blushed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Well, Cas is right, there isn't space, and how would we get so many people across the grounds without anyone noticing?'

'Fair point,' said Sirius. 'Well, I'm sure you'll think of somewhere. There used to be a pretty roomy secret passage behind that big mirror on the fourth floor, you might have enough space to practise jinxes back there.'

'Fred and George told me it's blocked,' said Harry, shaking his head. 'Caved in or something.'

'Oh…' said Sirius, frowning. 'Well, I'll have to think and get back-'

He broke off. His face was suddenly tense, alarmed. He turned sideways, apparently looking into the solid brick wall of the fireplace.

'Sirius?' Harry said anxiously.

But he had vanished. Then Hermione gave a horrified gasp and leapt to her feet, staring at the fire.

A hand appeared, groping around amongst the flames. A stubby, short-fingered hand, covered in ugly old-fashioned rings.

They all ran for it, but Cas stopped outside the boys' dormitory.

'Cas!' Dean hissed. 'What are you doing?'

Cas just shook his head, looking at Dean with wide, terrified, glowing blue eyes.

'Okay,' he whispered, pulling Cas around a corner, so he was at least out of sight of the fireplace. 'Just breathe, Cas, you can do it. Control it.'

Cas forced himself to breathe normally, but it didn't seem to be working. 'Dean, I can't,' he whispered in a slightly strangled voice.

'Yes, you can,' Dean said firmly. He carefully poked his head around the stairs, but Umbridge's hand was still swiping around in the fireplace, trying to catch hold of Sirius's hair.

The wall cracked behind Cas and he whimpered.

'It's okay,' Dean whispered. 'It's just a wall, it's no big deal. I'm sure the castle is held up by magic anyway, you can't hurt it. Just focus on you.'

Cas nodded, trying his very best not to cry and control himself.

'You've got this.'

Dean peeked at the fire again. 'Okay, it's clear, come on.'

They ran back down the stairs, but Cas stumbled and fell at the bottom, no longer able to talk or move, desperate to keep his escaping power under control.

Dean knelt next to him and looked around, spotting the pile of logs next to the fireplace. 'Okay, see those logs?' he said. 'Can you break them up and move them into the fire? Maybe it'll help relieve the pressure.'

Cas screwed his eyes shut, and with great effort, lifted his arm. The logs began to split and float into the fire. Cas let out a breath and dragged himself onto his knees. Dean helped him up the rest of the way.

'Let's get you outside.'

Cas struggled all the way down to the Entrance Hall. 'I can't make it stop,' he gasped, stumbling again once they were outside.

'Just let it go, Cas,' Dean said, sitting him on the grass. 'No one will see you, everyone's asleep.'

Cas shook his head, but there was no other choice.

Dean closed his eyes, and a pulse of power sent him flying backwards. He waited until the blazing light searing through his eyelids dissipated before opening them again, and he scrambled back to Cas.

'I'm sorry,' Cas mumbled. 'Are you hurt?'

'No,' Dean said. 'Do you want to go inside, or do you want to go to the Shrieking Shack?'

Cas nodded his head towards the Whomping Willow and they both slowly climbed through the tunnel for the second time that day. Cas finally lay on his bed, exhausted, and Dean hunted around for somewhere else to sleep, finding another bed that he assumed was Gabriel's. It took a while for him to fall asleep, his mind buzzing with ideas.

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to Meep for the review!

Just a quick reminder, guys, if you have questions for me, make sure you're logged in so I can reply privately, or email me at Nurmengardx16 gmail. com. I don't like to answer question in notes like this, just in case I accidentally spoil something.

Thanks again for reading! See you all again soon :)