Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

Fleur

I'm waiting for that statue leading to Dumbledore's office to finish opening; it's absurdly slow doing it. It's the first class of the day, so he should be in there. That and it's early in the day so even he can't have gotten distracted by some fascinating thing or another. I finally get to his office door, knock and go inside.

"Ah, Miss Delacour, good morning," he greets me.

"Good morning," I reply. "I think it's about time we talked."

"Yes, of course. Your time spend with the children has been fruitful, I take it?"

"Not really. I mean, these are just students; I don't see what the big need to keep an eye on them is. They aren't doing anything exceptional or unusual, just normal school things."

"Yes, their past years tended to go similarly as well. Inevitably a point came when normal was left far behind, however. Should such a time come again, I would feel far better knowing you are there to aid them. Even more so if you should be able to give me advance warning so other protective measures can be taken as well."

"I'll keep watching and all."

"What of the other matter I was curious about?"

"What, those two girls, Hermione and Pansy? I talked to them, but didn't get much out of it. Pansy seems fine with me, but Hermione's still stuck on me being there to spy on them."

"They think you're spying on them?"

"Aren't I? Isn't that what I'm there to do? Watch them and report back to you."

"You are there for their protection," Dumbledore tries to argue.

"Fine, call it both. You cannot tell me spying isn't part of it though. And Hermione hasn't gotten over that so far, so all I got is some super short version of how they got together that had no details and basically meant nothing."

"Ah, a pity. Still, we are less than halfway into the year, so perhaps things will yet change."

"We'll see," I shrug. I'm worried Dumbledore's curiosity about these girls is the real reason I'm here.

"I thank you for all your work, Miss Delacour," Dumbledore tries to dismiss me.

"Actually, this isn't why I came in."

"Oh? Then what is on your mind?"

"I said I wanted to fight when I joined up. You said it wouldn't happen, and after some back and forth, I agreed to be here. English may not be my first language, but I am quite literate in it, and I do read the paper."

"You mean the stories about the Order fighting the Death Eaters in public."

"That's right. I may be young but I'd put my skills against most anyone in the Order. I'm the best France has to offer. But I'm here while you have house wives and desk sitters out fighting. Now not only can I do more than them, you lied to me. I'm not happy here, Dumbledore, not at all."

"I am sorry for your dissatisfaction, Miss Delacour, but I'm afraid the assumptions your complaints are based on are in error."

"Hmm? What's that?"

"To be specific, the Order is not openly fighting the Death Eaters as you claim. In fact, there have been no direct engagements since the incident at the Ministry at the start of the summer," Dumbledore explains.

"What are you talking about? It's all over the paper practically every day."

"Indeed it is. I read the articles as do you. They are, however, in error."

"Error? What do you mean? Just what's going on here?"

"What is going on is a mystery. What I do know, is this: no members of the Order have engaged the Death Eaters in combat. I have not sanctioned any actions and I have personally spoken to all members and am completely confident that none of them have carried out any actions on their own."

"So just what's going on? Is that paper making things up? It has before, no?" I ask.

"I do not believe the stories are fabricated; there are too many witnesses, and my discrete inquiries to them have led me to believe that battles between the Death Eaters and people claiming to be the Order did in fact occur. However, those claiming to be the Order are not in fact part of it. Additionally, the burning phoenix mark is not one the Order uses. Like you, I first heard of it in The Prophet."

"So you're going around in a mask to try and fix things now?"

Dumbledore laughs at that. "I'm far too old for such melodrama. I leave that to those much closer to your age."

"That's not you then either?"

"It is not," Dumbledore confirms. "Nor do I believe it to be anyone from the Order."

"You mean your war is being fought by a group that isn't you, but is using your name, with some fancy new leader and you have no idea who any of the people involved are?"

"I assure you all measures to ascertain the identities of those involved that can be made are being made. But this is a concern for me. Your concern is the observation and safety of several students in this castle. Now please, try not to worry. In time these questions will be answered."

I had no idea when I left France that this is how it would be.

Pansy

Hermione and I are on our prefect rounds, which means we're going to our classroom for some fun. Students should be in their dorms at this hour, unless they have permission to be out late, to the library or something which is pretty rare, so the castle is basically empty. Still, it's a castle full of teenagers, so there's always some sign of life, some kid rushing up to his dorms with an arm full of books, some couple sneaking around, a fat slob sneaking food from the kitchens, something, even if it's just sounds of people in the distance. Tonight there's none of that.

I look around, I'm not sure for what. There's nothing that seems out of the ordinary, just an empty castle, completely devoid of people. Not a sound except for Hermione's and my footsteps; the sound of my high heels on the stone floor echoing through the corridors. Something about this feels wrong; an empty castle that's too empty, no sounds except for us.

That's when I see it, near the floor, behind an archway down a side corridor: the hem of a black cloak.

"Hermione," I whisper, drawing my wand, trying to keep a casual look and not be too obvious about arming myself.

She looks over at me and sees I've armed myself and does the same. "Something feels wrong to you too?"

"Yeah. I saw the hem of a robe down a corridor back there too."

"Ambush," Hermione states the same conclusion I came to.

We keep walking, trying to look casual, like we don't know we're about to be attacked. We probably should have a better plan, some place in mind to get to, backup or a safe zone or something, but we don't; we're far from any of the dorms or the library. Basically, isolated

I hear someone casting a spell behind us and dive towards the wall just on my left. I land and look over to see that Hermione had the same idea and dove for cover as well. Ok, my girl's alive. I aim my wand back the way we came and fire off a spell, a big spray of flame. It's flashy, but not particularly dangerous; a stall.

Hermione obviously has the same thought, firing off some sort of flashy light show spell. We get to our feet and run for it. We don't get any farther than the next intersection in the corridor before we see two more figures there, heavy black robes and masks on their faces, blocking our way.

"Crap," I swear.

"This way," Hermione orders, taking a left at the intersection to avoid the assholes in our way.

We keep firing spells behind us, not even stopping to aim, and get some sent our way in return. The funny thing is, none of the spells coming at us are lethal. Oh, it'll be bad if we get hit by one, hurt like hell and be down for those assholes to catch us, but they won't be instantly fatal either.

Spells fly back and forth as we run, none seeming to hit anything other than walls that get scorched and in some cases even cratered by the impacts. The only time the spells fired in our direction seem to get accurate is whenever we've got a choice which way to go. Other corridors to go down, stairs to take, things like that. Any time that happens spells always seem to get heavy and leave us an obvious out.

"We're being herded," Hermione says what I was just thinking.

"Pretty obvious, yeah."

"They must have something set up in an isolated area of the castle; some place to attack in force."

"Well that sounds cheerful."

"It's the facts of the situation, Pansy."

Wherever this ambush point of theirs is, it's pretty high up; they've been forcing us up a lot of stairs. We've got to be on the fifth floor by now, maybe sixth or even the seventh. We keep running and then suddenly we round a corner and start down another corridor, seemingly just like the dozens we've run through in the past few minutes, but in this one the spells cast in our direction have suddenly vanished. I stop and look around, trying to see what's going on and figure out exactly where we are.

"Dead end," Hermione announces.

"Huh?"

"This corridor dead ends, that door at the end just leads to a classroom."

Shit.

"Nowhere left to run," Draco's voice echoes through the halls, coming from somewhere not terribly far behind us.

Hermione and I don't stick around to see if there's a monologue coming our way. Instead we run to the classroom at the end of the hallway and slam the door behind us, locking it. Hermione starts casting some spells on it and I go for the windows.

"Windows are out as an option," I state. "We're way high up and no way I want to get caught in the middle of some half assed escape attempt. God knows what's at the bottom here too. Probably sharp rocks or some shit." I don't know how much time we have, and the last thing we need is to be caught half out the window, easy for Draco to kill.

"This won't hold for long," Hermione finishes casting her spells on the door.

"We could pile some of the desks and chairs up, try and barricade the door." It's not much of an idea, really. It'll slow Draco and his asshole minions down, but that's it. Still, it's something so Hermione and I start piling furniture up.

"Save the teacher's desk. We can flip it on its side and use it for cover, like a bunker."

There's where we go, go to die I guess; hiding behind a fucking desk, waiting for Draco god damned Malfoy to come kill us. That is one small time way to go.

Hermione and I kneel behind that desk for a bit, until the banging starts on the door. First it sounds like fists, then after a pause it's the sound of spells impacting on whatever barrier Hermione put up.

"Is it really as easy to cast as you said? The killing curse I mean?" Hermione asks apprehensively.

I look at Hermione before answering, seeing if she's really serious. "Yeah. Just point your wand and say the words. It's easy. You just have to mean it. That's the thing that really makes it work, that killing intent."

"All right." Not sure what to make of Hermione's answer there.

"You sure you're ready to go there? I know I've pushed and all…."

"They're coming to kill us, Pansy; probably more than that…. When all is said and done I expect they'll rape and torture us if they have their way. I'll be damned if I just let that happened. It doesn't really matter whether I like the idea of killing or not, does it? Things are clearly at that level, so yes, I'm ready to go there, and god willing I'll take enough of them down that they have no choice but to end us cleanly, none of that lingering death that I'm sure Malfoy has planned."

Valid thoughts. I've been trying to get Hermione to this point, where she wouldn't hold back just because she's supposed to and would do what she thinks is best. Shame she got there about ten seconds before we're both going to die.

"Listen, Pansy," Hermione continues, "I'm sorry things got to this point, but I, I love you."

I want to respond to Hermione, the last nice words we're likely to ever speak, but I can't. Instead the door and all the furniture pile in front of it explodes in towards us with all the force Malfoy and however many minions he has with him could muster in the form of spells bombarding it all. Hermione and I stay low behind our desk/bunker and wait for the dust to settle and the battle to start.

"What is the meaning of this?" a voice roars from out in the hall. It's old, but strong. It's the god damned old man; Dumbledore. What the hell? "You will all lower your wands and come with me at once."

We all get marched to Dumbledore's office, me, Hermione, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and nine more of Malfoy's cloaked goons. A baker's dozen of assholes all here to kill us. Seriously, overkill much? McGonagall and Snape are waiting in the old man's office. Pretty damned crowded with eighteen of us all in here at once.

"So, would anyone care to explain what's going on?" the old man asks. No one wants to respond. "Two students barricaded in one room and thirteen outside breaking down the door. Shall we draw our own conclusions from that?"

Hermione opens her mouth to answer, but I squeeze her hand and she stops and looks at me. I just shake my head a bit at her. Not sure what she thinks she's going to say here, but I don't see how it can help. When crap like this happens people in charge love to hear themselves talk, lecture on about what happened and how smart they are to figure it all out and what was going on and why and all that crap. Better to let them go off on their ego trip without interrupting. That way they can get that hit over and done with.

"Minerva, perhaps you could take Miss Granger and Miss Parkinson to your office and deal with them there?" Dumbledore asks. Not that I even have a family name at the moment, but what the fuck ever.

So we follow the old woman up to her office. I don't really know if it's an upgrade or not. I guess no Draco is better. Not that he's going to start shit with teachers around, but he's a dick and I'm a lot happier if he isn't anywhere near me.

The old woman sits behind her desk and stares at us. Another power trick, the desk while the people you're talking to have to stand, and the stare. Show who's boss and all that.

"So, what happened?" McGonagall demands. "Out with it."

"We were attacked," Hermione cracks right away. "We were heading down for our prefect rounds when we were ambushed. People in black robes and masks, they fired spells on us and herded us to that dead end corridor. We barricaded ourselves into the classroom at the end. That's where Professor Dumbledore found us."

"I see. Quite the incident, thirteen students after two. And out of the clear blue sky no less."

I can see the guilt crap working on Hermione, so I cut in before she can say something, apologize to the old woman or whatever crap this is supposed to get in response. "Out of the clear blue sky? We killed Malfoy's mother at the end of last year. What, you thought he'd let that go?"

"Quite odd that he would wait until so far into the year to try and take his revenge."

Even with my best efforts I kept Hermione from spilling her guts for about five seconds. "He threatened us on the train, explicitly said he would kill us. Then here at the castle he ambushed me, put his wand to the back of my neck. He was going to kill me, but changed his mind; he liked the theatricality of killing us together."

"And I'm only hearing about this now why?"

"What was the point of telling you?" I ask. "What were you going to do? Call him into Dumbledore's office and then what? Draco denies it all and that's that. And even if you all believed us, what would you do? Tell us to be careful? We don't need someone to tell us that."

"Miss Parkinson, we take the safety of our students very seriously here at Hogwarts. I assure you a credible threat on the lives of two of our girls would be taken most seriously."

I laugh at that; I can't help myself. I'm sure it'll piss her off and make things worse, but seriously, come on. "Take safety seriously? Voldermort was in the castle my first two years. Hermione and her friends faced him. They were eleven years old, then twelve. How is that safe? Then there's the Dementors. Real safe there. But hey, there was a fatality the year after that, so I guess Dementors aren't so bad. Last year it was Narcissa Malfoy instead of one of us, but that could have gone the other way just as easily. So please, don't try and tell me how seriously you all take our safety. I take my safety seriously, and I take Hermione's safety seriously. The rest of you? Not so much from where I'm sitting."

The old woman looks like I just ripped her heart out and showed it to her. "You are correct, our efforts to keep you all safe have not always measured up. I could cite reasons beyond our control, but in the end it makes little difference I suppose. But I would think that you of all people, Miss Parkinson, would know that our past does not necessarily rule our futures. Whatever the issues in the past, I would ask that you do believe me that everyone here at Hogwarts takes your safety seriously, and we will do everything possible to keep you from harm. But that presumes that you let us know any potential threats."

"But professor," Hermione interrupts, "what could you have done in a case like this?"

"What could have been done is exactly what was done. Professor Dumbledore had put into place measures watched for abnormal student movement, such as over a dozen students from one house out after hours, and particularly aberrant spell usage, such as a large number of spells used in rapid succession at a time and place where none should be in use."

In other words, exactly what happened. Explains how the old man was able to show up for no obvious reason though. So he still has a few clever tricks left in him.

It also explains why we're obviously not here for punishment. I'm sure Draco's little talk is going a lot differently than ours. In fact, ours just has the old woman making us promise to tell her if anything like this happens again and sending us on our way. It's almost anti climactic in a way; usually when I'm a part of something like this whole incident I have to lie and be creative and convincing about it before I get to walk.

Still, there is one more thing to do today, and a hand on Hermione's arm stops her just outside the entrance to Gryffindor for it.

"What's wrong?" Hermione looks at me.

"Nothing. There's just some unfinished business before we go in," I reply.

"Unfinished business?"

"Back in that classroom, you said you loved me." Hermione's said it a lot of times, she's sappy like that. I've never actually said the words back to her though. Not that I don't love her, and I know she knows, it just really isn't my style to say things like that usually. Still though, if the door hadn't broken when it did, I would have told her. I know she'd have really liked it.

"That's right, I do."

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to say, I mean we got interrupted and stuff, but, I love you too."

Hermione just stares at me for a bit, apparently speechless. Then all at once her arms are around me, hugging me for all she's worth. It doesn't take long for the hug to evolve into a very passionate kiss.

Not that this should have changed anything; Hermione knew how I felt. For her though, hearing the words obviously made a huge difference.

Harry

Our Quidditch season's looking a lot better. Sure, we're huge underdogs in our first game against Ravenclaw, but our chances are a lot better in our second game against Slytherin. Having every single member of their team hit with an out of school suspension until after Christmas will do that.

Slytherin will probably still make the finals; they have the whole second half of the year, but a win will be good for our team. It beats the heck out of hoping to beat Hufflepuff for our only victory of the year. So now that we have a chance for some early success Ron and I are trying to plan out a strategy we can have the team learn in time.

"Bloody lucky the entire team got bounced," Ron comments. "Kind of a surprise too. I mean, I know Malfoy's a right git and threatened Hermione on the train, but to actually get his gang to attack them? Try to kill them? That's nuts."

"It wasn't the first time, you know. He ambushed Hermione earlier in the year," I tell Ron.

"What? When? Why the hell didn't someone tell me?"

"Not long ago. And you'd have to ask Hermione why she didn't tell you. Probably because she figured you'd over react."

"Overreact? When have I over reacted?" I just stare at Ron. It doesn't take him long to figure it out. "All right, fine, maybe I over react a little. But come on, she's my friend, and she's a girl. You don't let girls get treated like that."

"So if it were Parkinson that got ambushed you'd feel the same?"

Ron has to stop and think about that for a while. "She can take care of herself."

"She's been Hermione's first protector since they got together too," I add.

"Yeah, I guess. Was with her at the Ministry and all. But whatever, we've got a Quidditch game to get ready for, right?"

"Yeah, right. So, you have ideas for Slytherin?"

"Sure. So they're new, not used to working together, so I figure we use that against them."

"Our team isn't that used to flying together either," I point out.

"No, but we've got more time under our belts than the snakes will. So I figure we use that, try and have our team create odd man rushes, adjust our formations so people can go in pairs real easily if there's a chance. Also I think we should see who everyone's most comfortable with, have a go to person for them to pass to or get help from. You know, like having people in the area ready to help out who have good chemistry with each other."

"Isn't that stuff every team tries for?"

"It is, yeah. The thing is, I think we kind of just focus on that, don't bother with regular plays and formations and stuff."

"Wait, that's just a long way to say we improvise the game, isn't it?" I ask.

"It sounds better the way I said it," Ron insists.

"Yeah, but really, that's no plan at all."

"No, it's a realistic one. Look, this team hasn't flown together a ton, and a few of them haven't flown much period, you know that. Yeah, later in the year we'll teach them real formations and plays and all that, but it's not going to work so well right away. So I say we put it off until this Slytherin game, save the ugly learning and take the easy win."

"It's not a guaranteed win, you know. They're all going to be new, but we're not far from that either."

"Yeah, but else can we do? You think these kids are ready to learn real plays and stuff? Maybe some, but it only takes one person to make a lot fall apart. And after what your girlfriend is probably going to do to our team I don't think complex flying is going to be what they want to learn."

"And if we lose that second game the team will feel even worse."

"Look mate, there's no sure thing here. It's a new team, stuff can happen, good or bad. But you're the captain, so you tell me, what do you want to do?"

Ah, the fun of being captain. "All right, we'll do it your way, Ron."

Fleur

Another week, another DA meeting. They aren't very entertaining, but then, neither is night life in the local village. Actually there is none to speak of, I looked. One or two pubs with half a dozen generically British people each, sitting on their stools, probably the same stools they were one ten years ago, twenty years ago, maybe forty years ago, all complaining about their pathetic boring lives. I couldn't leave fast enough. No clubs or actual life, no activity that could remotely qualify as fun, just sad people older than my parents. It's mind numbing. And even worse are the looks I get. I'm an outsider, it's obvious, but the gawking stares haven't let up even after all these weeks and months. The novelty of a Veela in the town must wear off someday, no? I'm beginning to think it might not.

"All right, I was thinking we'd change things up a bit today," Harry starts the meeting. "I know people have asked about this, so how about we spend the evening on some dueling?"

That gets a lot of nods and even a few cheers. It's something people have clearly wanted for quite some time. This may be called an army (someone had a real sense of humor when that name was picked) but it's really mostly just a collection of teenagers, several of whom don't get along and seem to see this as free reign to fight.

"Now this doesn't mean anything goes brawls," Harry tries to explain. A lot of people aren't listening to him though. "Keep it civilized and under control, and remember, I'll be the referee, so if I say to stop, then stop, ok?"

"Yeah, sure, I'm up first then," Ron steps forward. "I'm thinking I can show Smith how it's done."

Zacharias Smith seems to be the resident dolt and all around ass. He's made no effort to make friends and seems quite content to be hated by people, Ron most of all. I rather doubt this will be the friendly duel Harry envisioned.

"Maybe we should start with someone else." Harry suggests. "It's probably be better if you found someone else to try your hand at, Ron, but at the very least if you're determined to take Smith on give it some time, let a few other people go first please." Hoping that Ron calms down obviously. Probably that a few civilized duels will set a tone as well. Not a bad move.

"Fine, I'll try Cho then," Ginny offers.

"Ginny, she's two years older than you. She might not be a good opponent for you," Hermione warns.

"Yeah? That'll make it all the more humiliating if she loses then."

"If she wants to it's fine with me," Cho accepts the challenge.

"Maybe we make this interesting. If I win, you have to not dress trampy for a week."

"Sophomoric bets? I'm not twelve anymore. Besides, what business is it of yours how I choose to dress? Though I suppose if you need some advice on how to dress to get more male attention I suppose I can help."

"Oh shut up, I get all the attention I want."

"Then I fail to see what cause you have to complain, and I certainly can't grasp how any of this could relate to me."

"If you want to dress like a tramp all on your own, that's your business, tart it up all you want. But you've got a boyfriend, got him last year and were a nice couple and all. So why are you advertising, making like you're on the market?"

"Advertising? It's well known throughout the castle I'm in a relationship. To whom exactly do you think I'm advertising? For that matter, what business is it of yours?"

"It's my business because Harry's my friend and I don't like seeing him being made a fool of like this."

"Who's making a fool of me?" Harry asks. The poor boy, he should know better than to get in the middle of this.

"Stay out of this, Harry. It's time someone put this girl in her place." Ginny doesn't even look at Harry when she says that.

"Put her in her place? That sounds like a good idea, actually," Cho agrees.

"Uh…." Harry isn't sure.

"Harry, trust me, you don't want to get in between those two right now," I tell him.

"So we going to do this?" Ginny asks.

"Of course," Cho agrees.

The girls get several paces distance between each other and face off. The duel starts and goes exactly how I expected. Cho is two years older, and at this age that makes a difference. More speed, more experience, and the ability to cast spells wordlessly. It's an unfair matchup and Ginny quickly loses. And then the rematch, as well as the match after that. Anticlimactic, really.

"That's three," Cho announces. "I take it we're done then?"

Ginny doesn't say anything, which is for the best I think. She looks angry enough that it'd be more swears than anything. Cho turns and walks away, but she only gets a few steps before Ginny fires off another spell at her, hitting Cho in the back, near her left shoulder.

"I never said it was over," Ginny's totally unapologetic.

Cho looks back at Ginny, one eyebrow twitching in an almost cliché display of anger. "So it's that kind of a fight? Fine."

Cho glances around a bit, apparently finding what she wants. She points her wand at a candelabra on the wall to her left and somehow draws the flame out, pulling more and more towards her, forming a ball of fire that is the size of a child's ball and growing. I'm not sure how she's doing it; whatever magic it is doesn't have any spoken words to it. We all just watch the magical flame growing, becoming several feet across.

Ginny decides not to wait, though. She fires off several stunning spells, all hitting that magical fire, but none seem to affect it at all. Finally, Cho thrusts her wand hand forward and a dozen tendrils of flame shoot out at Ginny. The girl just yells out and tries to back up, but the attack is too fast. The tendrils come at her from left, right, above and behind, leaving her no out. Just before they should hit her though, they stop, then after a second all of the magical fire vanishes completely.

I look over at Cho, who's covered in sweat and panting, looking exhausted to the point where she can barely stand. "Mon dieu, what kind of magic was that?" I ask.

"It's something from a book Dumbledore loaned me," Cho explains, walking to a chair and collapsing into it.

"What the hell, Cho?" Ron demands. "You almost killed my sister."

"I was in control."

"In control? You don't look like you can stand. How the hell were you in control of all that stuff?"

"All right, fine, I wasn't exactly in perfect total control of each and every bit of it. But I had enough control to make sure it wouldn't actually hit her."

"Bloody hell, talk about playing with fire. Your girl is mental, Harry."

"Maybe I should take Cho back to her dorm," I suggest. The girl looks like she needs the help getting there at the moment. Finally, something interesting happened at Hogwarts.

Author's Notes:

Hopefully this isn't too late an update. Started a new job, so it's affecting things on this end, obviously. I think my next update will be on this same story again. Just happens to be the fic I feel like working on lately.

as always, thanks to that-fan for his help, there was some stuff I really wasn't sure about in this chapter and I really needed a second opinion for it. Also thanks to everyone who reviews, it's much appreciated.