Fifth Year (Part two)

~o0o~

The Great Hall transformed into smoke, obtaining a solid form in shape of the Gryffindor common room two seconds later. Hermione tried, as usual, to quickly adjust and properly take in her new environment. She spun her body around in a circle and watched as the newly formed people gathered in the centre where she stood.

"Butterbeers for everyone!" cheered the twins and Lee, and the mass followed as they went to settle the bottles down on a table for their fellow House mates to grab.

Meanwhile, students were also coming up to Ron, who stood a few steps away, and she heard them congratulating him on becoming Keeper. Eventually, even her younger self found him.

"So happy for you, Ron," said Hermione, smiling at her friend.

He positively shone in response.

When the crowd cleared a bit, Ron greedily grabbed a Butterbeer and poured it into a goblet for himself while Fred rolled his eyes, handing one to Hermione who stood next to his little brother.

"Not another 'Canary Cream', is it?" asked Hermione, eyeing the bottle. "'Baboon Butterbeer' being a new addition to your assortment?"

Fred grinned. "If I remember correctly I warned you about the Creams."

"So you did . . . right before you told Neville you were joking and let him eat one anyway."

"Ah, but like I said, I did warn you. It was too late for him, he was already halfway through his. Nothing I could have done."

Hermione looked at him skeptically, but smiled. Then she yawned. "Sorry, I think I'm going to sit down for a bit."

Fred nodded, though seeming a bit sad to end their conversation, and went to join George as she walked away.

"Would you look at him?" George pointed to Ron who was busying himself by telling Lavender and Parvati about the tryout. "If not for Percy, I think Ron would occupy the seat for biggest prat in our family."

"Oh, let him have at it, he doesn't get much of this," said Fred.

"Yes, poor thing only has being a Prefect and The-Boy-Who-Lived's best friend going for him," said George, sarcastically, and snorted.

Fred laughed.

Suddenly, there was a roar as the portrait hole opened. Harry had entered and Ron was running to him with his drink slopping down his front, beaming.

"Harry, I did it, I'm in, I'm Keeper!"

Harry gave him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, but Ron didn't notice.

"What? Oh—Brilliant!" the dark-haired boy said.

Fred and George joined them.

"Have a Butterbeer," said Ron, taking the bottle George had been holding, pressing it at Harry's chest.

George opened his mouth to tell his brother off, when Ron continued, "I can't believe it—where's Hermione gone?"

"She's there," said Fred, pointing to an armchair by the fire where Hermione was dozing, the grip on her bottle dangerously slack. He ignored the raised eyebrow his twin was sending him for being able to spot her so fast, and took a big gulp of his drink.

"Well, she said she was pleased when I told her," said Ron, looking slightly put out.

When it looked like he was thinking about waking her up, Fred sent an alarmed look to George, trying to signal him something. George followed Fred's line of sight and spotted the first-years approaching, their noses a little red and the rest of their faces pale.

"Let her sleep," said George hastily.

Harry noticed the urgency in George's voice and glanced at the younger students. Understanding dawned on his face as he (and Real Hermione) gathered why George appeared so reluctant to waking Hermione up, seeing as how she would definitely scold the twins for continuing their 'Nosebleed Nougat' experiment on the young.

Those lying little . . .

Before Hermione had finished her thought, the scenery changed.

Fred, George and Lee were making their way towards herself, Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table.

"—if you want to know what grades we got, ask," said Ron sharply.

Memory 'Mione began to stutter nervously. "I don't— I didn't mean—well, if you want to tell me—"

"I got a P," said Ron, ladling soup into his bowl. "Happy?"

"Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of," said Fred, seating himself on Harry's right, opposite Hermione. "Nothing wrong with a good healthy P."

Lee and George grinned and sat down next to him.

"But," said Hermione, looking at him with furrowed brows, "doesn't P stand for . . ."

"Poor, yeah," said Lee. "Still, better than D, isn't it? 'Dreadful'?"

Harry coughed.

Hermione absently stirred her soup, not quite interested in eating, as she pressed the others for information. "So top grade's O for 'Outstanding', and then there's A—"

"No, E," George corrected her, "E for 'Exceeds Expectations'. And I've always thought Fred and I should've got E in everything, because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for the exams."

They all laughed except Hermione, who ploughed on, "So, after E it's A for 'Acceptable', and that's the last pass grade, isn't it?"

"Yep," said Fred, dunking an entire roll in his soup and transferred it to his mouth, about to swallow it whole, when Hermione raised a disapproving eyebrow. He responded with a smile, making his full cheeks looking like ones of a hamster. She grimaced and he finally let the food slide down his throat.

"Then you get P for 'Poor'and D for 'Dreadful'," said Ron, oblivious to the exchange.

"And then T," George reminded him.

"T?" asked Hermione, tearing her eyes away from Fred, looking appalled. "Even lower than a D? What on earth does that stand for?"

"Troll", said George.

Harry laughed.

"You lot had an inspected lesson yet?" Fred asked them.

"No," said Hermione at once. "Have you?"

"Just now, before lunch," said George. "Charms."

"What was it like?" Harry and Hermione asked together.

Fred shrugged. "Not that bad. Umbridge just lurked in the corner making notes on a clipboard. You know what Flitwick's like, he treated her like a guest, didn't seem to bother him at all. She didn't say much. Asked Alicia a couple of questions about what the classes are normally like, Alicia told her they were really good, that was it."

"I can't see old Flitwick getting marked down," said George, "he usually gets everyone through their exams all right."

"Who've you got this afternoon?" Fred asked Harry.

"Trelawney—"

"A T if ever I saw one."

"— and Umbridge herself."

The three seventh years raised their eyebrows at that.

"Well, be a good boy and keep your temper with Umbridge today" said George. "Angelina'll do her nut if you miss any more Quidditch practices."

There was a new memory.

"Come on, Ron."

"Do you really think it's such a good idea?" Ron asked, frowning as Hermione pulled him with her by the sleeve.

"It's the only idea. Besides, we already promised Harry we'd speak with people."

"You, you promised."

Hermione let go of him, and after a few seconds of trying to stare him down, she turned. Ignoring his hissing protests, she walked up to the three seventh year students huddled in the corner of the common room who now rustled their scrolls and pretended being busy the closer the witch got.

"Oh, honestly, I know you were eavesdropping," said Hermione, taking a chair and sitting down with them, much to their apparent surprise. The edge of a paper bag labeled 'Fainting Fancies' poked out beneath a pile of parchment and caught her eye, but she evidently decided there were more urgent matters to be settled and looked at the three boys. She chewed her lip and Real Hermione knew that she was contemplating on how to proceed. She remembered that she'd then decided on using curiosity and the prospect of potential mischief making to gain their interest.

Hermione leaned in. "So, are any of you interested in defying a couple of rules?"

George and Lee's eyes were wide, but Fred grinned.

"Always," he said.

The other two, no doubt wondering if it was a trick on Hermione's end, grew even more surprised when she mirrored his grin.

"Excellent," she said, sending Fred an approving nod. "Meet us at the Hog's Head when the next Hogsmeade weekend comes along."

"'Us'?" asked Lee, speaking for the first time since she'd sat down.

"Yeah, and what rules would we be breaking exactly?" asked George.

Hermione took a moment to look behind her, spotting Ron lingering a few steps away. He seemed to realize she wanted his help and begrudgingly strode over.

"Hello," he told his brothers and Lee. Albeit a bit sullenly.

"Ron, your brothers were wondering what we're doing," said Hermione.

"Well, why don't you tell them, it's your idea," he responded.

"It's not just mine—"

"It is, though, and to be honest, it's a brilliant idea, but I don't look forward to having Harry yell at me again—"

"He agreed! He said it was fine!"

"Would one of you mind explaining what's going on?"

Hermione and Ron put their bickering to rest for the time being, and the former looked at George. "We would like to form a Defence class," she said.

"A Defence class?" George repeated.

Hermione nodded. "Yes." She leaned in again, and this time the boys did too, even Ron from where he was standing. "We can all agree that Umbridge is terrible. Therefore, I am proposing we take the matter of learning proper Defence Against the Dark Arts into our own hands."

Lee raised an eyebrow. "How would we do that? Who's going to teach us?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other.

"Harry," she said. "We've spoken to him, and he's not entirely against the idea. My idea," she corrected after Ron looked at her. "I don't doubt that anyone would be more qualified than Umbridge, but Harry is probably the best we've got."

"He has survived a lot, that one," agreed Fred. "So, these lessons, how would we go about—"

Hermione looked happy that someone appeared open to the idea, and perhaps even enthusiastic, but she had to stop him. "We don't have everything settled. For now, we're just scanning for people who might be interested, and who, of course, don't agree with Umbridge's . . . teaching." She fought a grimace at the last word.

"We thought you lot would be up for defying her," said Ron, "and that you would agree that Harry is more than appropriate to give us advice and such."

"Oh, so now Harry's fit to teach?" Hermione said in a low voice, almost rolling her eyes.

Ron actually did roll his eyes. "So, what do you say?"

The other three didn't require any further persuasion of any kind and eagerly agreed.

"Mind if we tell the girls about it, though?" asked George. "You know, Katie, Angelina and Alicia. They would definitely be up for this."

Hermione nodded. "That would be great. In fact, as many as you can possibly think of would be good. I'm sure this is affecting many more than we've probably realized. And people need to learn, you know . . . considering everything."

There was a pause as they thought on Voldemort and the silent war taking place outside. Hermione and Ron excused themselves, on their way to determine who else might be interested. They found Lavender and Parvati sitting by the fire and the two witches soon gave huge squeals in excitement, followed by hushing noises from Hermione.

Real Hermione remembered with a certain newfound fondness how quickly the two of her dorm mates had agreed to join. Despite their differences; Lavender and Parvati, just like Hermione, always stood up for what they believed in.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day where Hermione Granger and our brother would be at the forefront of a secret resistance army," said George, looking amused and impressed.

"That's not really what they're doing, is it?" asked Lee.

"Well, going against Umbridge is really like you're going against the Ministry itself," continued George. "So, these little teaching sessions they have planned are very much a big sign of protest against what they're doing to the school. And I'm sure Granger knows that."

Fred gave a small chuckle. "Yes, Prefect Granger will abide and uphold the rules, so long as they don't mess with her education, because then she'll mess with you."

"Oh, stop looking so proud, it's sickening," urged George, while him and Lee grimaced at Fred's face.

The last thing Hermione saw before they turned to smoke was Fred swatting his brother with a roll of parchment.

What followed was predictably the meeting in Hog's Head. Hermione watched as, yet again, the swarm of students gave Aberforth the biggest crowd his pub probably had ever seen up until the battle of Hogwarts.

"Hi," said Fred, and ordered Butterbeers for everyone. Hermione, now as well as then, was impressed with his quick counting. Especially since they all moved around. "Cheers," he said while handing the drinks out, "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these . . ."

"Harry looks a bit nervous," observed George as the crowd scattered into seats.

"Yeah, it's almost like Granger hasn't told him we were coming," said Lee.

They quieted down when they'd all settled into chairs, and Hermione began speaking. "Well—er—hi."

Real Hermione stood next to Fred's seat, inwardly cringing at her own horrid speech. She listened as her younger self stumbled over words and stammered more than a couple of times.

"—because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts—" she said.

"Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein, causing memory Hermione to visibly cheer up, and real Hermione noticed how Fred's gaze flickered to the Ravenclaw, however briefly. For some reason, this made her feel uplifted as well. Ever since seeing him say he'd decided to simply stay friends with her, Hermione had felt . . . conflicted. She obviously didn't want for Fred to have spent his final years unable to move on, but a part of her—a most foul and dark one— enjoyed having him jealous. It was different from the way Ron had always displayed his jealousy. Perhaps because she herself had never had to suffer because of it.

Nevertheless, she realized that it was nothing that should be enjoyed, just as Fred long ago seemed to have been mature enough to understand that it wasn't something to get caught in, so she tried to shake it off. Tried to tuck it back, far, far, far in the back of her mind.

The rest of the meeting went exactly as she'd remembered. People asked Harry about what really had happened the night Cedric died, and Harry was getting more and more distressed. Eventually, Susan Bones spoke up and as she asked him about his Patronus.

"So—is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?" she said.

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, obviously impressed with him. "I never knew that!"

Fred grew a grin, looking relieved for Harry's sake that people were enquiring something other than the horrible meeting at the Riddle cemetery. Warmth spread through Hermione's chest. The twins really cared for Harry, and even her memory-self threw a smile Fred's way at his next words, "Mum told Ron not to spread it around. She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry, which had a couple of people laughing.

It wasn't long before the Weasley brothers once again proved their loyalty as Zacharias Smith accused Harry of trying to weasel his way out of teaching them things, simply because of Harry's modest nature (despite Harry himself denying it, which was ridiculous by itself).

"Here's an idea," said Ron, loudly, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," Smith argued.

"That's not what he said," snarled Fred.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" asked George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of his, Lee's and Fred's Zonko's bag.

Fred shrugged and gave the Hufflepuff a wicked grin. "Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this."

Young 'Mione knew that she had to intervene, and therefore hastily interrupted Fred before he could say anything else, "Yes, well, moving on . . ." She sent Fred the tiniest of warning glares, to which he responded with a badly suppressed grin, and a gentle pat on the instrument which he'd taken from George, meant to scare Zacharias who warily observed it nearby. She narrowed her eyes, and then returned her attention to the others. "The point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement, followed by a discussion regarding times to meet, the threat of Voldemort, and Heliopaths (courtesy of Luna). Once the crowd settled down once more, Hermione brought forth a piece of parchment and a quill.

"I—I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she said, and took a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to."

She glanced over at the crowd as she spoke, and noticed most of them looked uncertain about adding their names to a list. However, barely a couple of seconds passed since she'd finished before Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully wrote down his signature. George followed his brother's lead.

Some people afterwards made a fuss, but eventually they had all signed. There was an awkward moment of silence. Hermione didn't know what to say to them now, but luckily, that was settled for her.

"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. "George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later."

His words inspired others to take their leave, and so the meeting ended.

Once out in the path leading back to the centre of Hogsmeade, the boys discussed what had just transpired.

"So it really is an army, isn't it?" asked Lee.

"Guess so," said George.

"Well, boys, I've got a good feeling about this," said Fred.

"Yeah, and you're in no way biased, I'm sure," teased Lee.

"Be nice," said George, "he's trying to be her friend. You know, that friend that reaches for a suspicious parchment without any hesitation, just because his friend said to sign it. You know, that type of friend."

"Oy, I'm being supportive," said Fred. "That's what friends do."

"Right," chorused George and Lee.

"Whatever, let's just find the cream you talked about that could help with the boils," said Fred.

"Yes, let's," said George, "I haven't gotten around to ask Angelina out yet because of these." He gestured to his pants.

Hermione blushed as she realized where the boils were, and averted her eyes.

"Thinking that far ahead, are you?" said Lee, a huge teasing grin on his face.

"Would you fancy dating a guy who's got boils on his balls?"

Fred and Lee laughed.

"Stupid 'Fever Fudge'," muttered George.

The memory switched.

It was the Great Hall. Neville, Dean, Fred, George and Ginny stood circled around Harry, Hermione and Ron. Their eyes, however, were all on Harry.

"Did you see it?"

"D'you reckon she knows?"

"What are we going to do?"

They bombarded Harry with questions, but he kept calm. "We're going to do it anyway, of course," he said, quietly.

"Knew you'd say that," said George, beaming and thumping Harry on the arm.

"The prefects as well?" said Fred, looking quizzically at Ron and Hermione.

"Of course," said Hermione, coolly.

Fred grinned approvingly.

"Here come Ernie and Hannah—"started Ron, but the memory shifted yet again.

It was late in the common room again.

". . .and that's another Galleon. . .and another one. . .and another—" Fred glanced over to the seats by the fire. Hermione was watching him, her eyes narrowed into slits. With a smirk he faced the pile of money again. "And what's this? Another Galleon? Into the pile you go."

George and Lee were watching with barely hidden sniggers, but also slight caution. Hermione could tell they were preparing for any eventual attack, whether verbal or physical, from her. Sure, her memory self was sitting quietly a bit further away, but it was like it was the calm that occurred before a storm. It was unsettling, and unpredictable.

But nothing happened. And so the three of them successfully counted their earnings without interruption.

When it got late and they were done, they made their way to their room. Fred was the last one to the door leading to the boys' dormitories, but before shutting the door behind him he rattled his box of Galleons, making Hermione scowl at him. Once he shut it, he gave a laugh.

"You really should be careful or you might end up on the other end of her wand, Freddie," said George in front him.

"Oh, it's all good fun. And she deserved it for glaring at us all night. Honestly, can't a bloke projectile-vomit without an audience?"

"You loved the attention, admit it."

"Perhaps," said Fred, though his lasting grin was enough of an indication to prove that he in fact did love it.

The scene changed.

They were in the Room of Requirement, having their first official meeting as Dumbledore's Army. Well, soon-to-be Dumbledore's Army.

"I also think we ought to have a name," said Hermione brightly, her hand in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina hopefully.

"Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.

"I was thinking," said Hermione, frowning at Fred, and ignoring the wink he sent her for it, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so that we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

Again, a new memory emerged.

The surroundings remained the same but the people were reshaped through a mist of whatever was in the Pensieve. Ron and memory Hermione were about to duel and Ron was walking several steps away, but not before telling her that he'd 'go easy' on her.

"Thank you, Ronald," said Hermione, looking at him with an incredulous look on her face.

George and Fred stop what they were doing and Real Hermione hears George bet a sickle on Ron winning, which Fred accepts. Once Hermione lands her Expelliarmus, George reluctantly hands over the money to Fred.

"Thank you," he said, not smug or gleeful in the least, but simply as if he'd just known what would happen.

This scenario felt familiar to Hermione and she recalled it being the opposite during her sorting where Fred had bet against her. She smiled at the possibility that he'd learned his lesson after that.

A new memory appeared.

She was standing down on the Quidditch pitch.

She quickly gathered that Gryffindor had just won their match against Slytherin as the Gryffindor team was cheering Harry for catching the Snitch. Well . . . save for Ron, who was already sullenly walking toward the changing rooms.

Nearby, Draco Malfoy sneered. He began taunting Harry with the lyrics for 'Weasley is our king', which Harry promptly ignored.

"— we couldn't fit in useless loser either—for his father, you know—"

Fred and George had realized what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand, they stiffened, looking round at Malfoy.

"Leave it!" said Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm. "Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little—"

"— but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" said Malfoy. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay—"

Harry grabbed hold of George. Meanwhile, it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Malfoy, who was laughing openly. Harry seemed to be looked around for Madam Hooch, but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack.

"Or perhaps," said Malfoy, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasleys pigsty reminds you of it —"

While Hermione tried her best to remember that this had been years ago, and that her relationship with Draco now proved that people could change, Harry released George, and a second later both of them were sprinting towards Malfoy. He had clearly forgotten that all the teachers were watching for he drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoys stomach.

"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!"

Hermione could hear girls' voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing and the bellowing of the crowd around her. Not until Madame Hooch yelled "Impedimenta!" , and he was knocked over backwards by the force of the spell, did Harry abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach.

"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry leapt to his feet.

Malfoy was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three Chasers, and Crabbe was cackling in the background. "I've never seen behavior like it—" continued Madam Hooch, "back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now."

Harry and George marched off the pitch, just as Ginny and Hermione made their way toward the others.

"What happened?" asked Ginny.

Angelina ignored her question and rounded on Fred. "What got into you? You know he was only—"

"He insulted my family, Ange," said Fred. "And Harry's mother!"

"He did what?" asked Ginny, now staring in Malfoy's direction. The Slytherins were making their way towards their changing room now that sufficient damage had been done, though Malfoy looked like he was still in pain. The look on Ginny's face told everyone that she wouldn't mind inflicting more.

"Ginny," warned Hermione.

"Yes, let's leave this behind us," said Katie.

"Not bloody likely," said Alicia. "Knowing Malfoy, there's no way he won't snitch to Umbridge about this."

"And she's got it in for Harry, so there's no question about whether or not she'll jump on this, if she hasn't already," finished Angelina miserably. She looked at Fred again. "I told you to leave it."

"And I already told you—"He'd been on his way to snap back at her, but somehow the new audience members had him less eager to lash out. "Forget it."

The two of them stared at the ground, their arms crossed.

"Have any of you seen Ron?" Hermione asked Katie and Alicia quietly. At this, the others exchanged glances, but didn't say anything, not even as Fred immediately walked away.

~o0o~

A/N: OH. MY. GOD. I'M SO SORRY.

I know it's been forever and I apologise so much! If you follow me on tumblr, I've kinda answered why the long delay, but basically:

-I had to focus on school

-Then when I was done it was super difficult to get back to writing this

-Editing these take forever because I have to double and triple check the books so everything matches

I'm so so so grateful though that there still are people commenting and stuff. Just gaaah, all the hugs to you!

Thank you for sticking with me and the story, I appreciate the heck out of you all!

Until next time!
/Primrue