AN: I own nothing.
To the guest comment about the Board: yes, they aren't happy, but they can hardly do much more than rant at the people running the country, especially since Umbridge can produce "evidence" that all she does is in the students best interest. Still, I like your idea and I'd totally go for your nuclear option if it was up to me. Alas, I'm not on the Hogwarts Board of Governors.
CHAPTER 30 - Insurrection
With barely a sound, only a muted crack easily covered by the crashing waves, a man in black robes apparated on the barren island hosting the wizarding prison of Azkaban. His pale hand lifted a similarly pale wand as more individuals in black started apparating behind him.
"Confrigo!" called Voldemort jabbing his wand at the prison's main entrance, which immediately turned into a vast gaping hole under the force of the blasting curse.
Nobody came from the inside, the few guards either too far away or already dead under the rubble.
"Well, this is just disappointing. No, even worse, it's pathetic," commented the Dark Lord with a sneer, lowering his wand marginally before using it to direct his troops "Go, bring back my most faithful servants. The dementors won't stop you."
As one, the Death Eaters moved, silent as shadows.
"Let all Britain know that I am back, to claim what is mine," Voldemort said raising his wand to the sky "Morsmordre!"
Chandra had been skeptical when Minerva had given her a box of biscuits and directed her towards where she knew the Room of Hidden Things to be.
"All will be clear, I can't say anything more," the witch had said not doing anything to hide her cat-that-got-the-canary grin.
So Chandra had gone at the indicated time and found a door where a blank stretch of wall should have been. Guessing it meant that someone was already in the room, she shrugged and knocked. Not that she did actually expect an answer, but despite her track record she didn't believe in deploying extreme measures from the get go. No need to burn a door if someone might open it for you.
"Password?" came a muffled voice from inside, one that despite everything she recognised.
"How does 'I have cookies' sound as a password?" she asked smirking.
Hermione opened the door, then looked up and down the corridor before focusing on her friend, a suspicious expression on her face.
"McGonagall," said the redhead as if it explained everything, then added "I should have guessed you'd be behind this, Liliana has been a terrible influence on you."
Hermione huffed but let her friend in. The room appeared completely different than what she had seen some weeks prior, offering a large open space with training dummies off to one side. Many faces peered at her with obvious curiosity but the emotion by far dominant was fear. She guessed the previous Educational Decree, the one outlawing any study group or student organization was at fault there.
"I'm not sure these cookies will be enough for everyone..." she commented frowning at the box in her hands.
There were lots more students than McGonagall had evidently anticipated, both from various houses and different years. The Gryffindors were an obvious majority, but there could be found smatterings of blue and yellow in their midst, and even a couple of Slytherin students. All in all, there were maybe fifty teenagers, none of whom looked yet convinced that she wasn't about to denounce them to the Toad.
"What are you doing here Chandra?" asked Hermione, certainly more for the assembly's benefit than for her own.
"Well, as of this morning I seem to be out of a job," explained the planeswalker, sounding almost as if she was discussing the weather "But a magical kitten told me some students still needed me, so here I am. With biscuits. From the kitten."
Silence met her statement. Not really surprising in Chandra's opinion: her explanation had been horrible, even if to the point.
"You cannot teach us defense," commented someone from the cowl.
"I can teach you how to fight," replied the planeswalker, confidently staring at the sea of dubious faces.
"Weren't we studying to pass the exams?" one of the Slytherins asked "I didn't sign up for the Rebellion or something."
"Shut up Tracy," hissed her friend stomping on her foot.
"She's right though," a dark skinned Ravenclaw insisted "It's not like we'll need to fight..."
Chandra saw the situation starting to rapidly escalate when Weasley purpled up and went to angrily retort... Something. She wasn't about to let the boy speak, remembering he had all the grace of a rampaging bull cerodon.
She hastily created a firework-like spell and let it go off above her head. A good way as any to catch the assembly's attention.
"You're right of course: normally you wouldn't see any real fight in your whole lives," she said stepping closer to the volatile redhead –and wasn't it weird thinking of someone else as volatile?– and placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him from exploding "Unfortunately these aren't normal times: there's a murdering maniac out there who's willing to bring death and war to your homes, and there's a Ministry that will do anything to ignore the ugly reality, up and including sending a delusional dictator-in-training amid schoolchildren."
The two who had protested didn't respond –whether they were cowed by Chandra's words or by her presence was anyone's guess– nor anybody else raised any other objection.
"I will stay and deal with Voldemort –whether it is actually him or some lunatic– but I won't be here forever, and as you can see from the Toad, you cannot count on the Ministry to save you," she continued passionately, trying to channel Gideon "So I will teach you how to fight, so that you'll be ready when you need it!"
"Yeah!" responded around two thirds of the students, obviously fired up by her words.
She guessed she actually could do speeches if needed. Go figure.
"Now, pass the cookies!" demanded Luna trying to grab the box.
That got a stronger reception than Chandra's speech. She inwardly cursed Minerva.
When they had started, the planeswalker's students had absolutely no idea of how to act on a battlefield: the hotheads –which means those Chandra considered liable to rush head on into danger– charged blindly ten times out of ten; on the opposite side, the thinkers spent too much time thinking every action through even when they couldn't afford to, and they also hardly relied on others to take the right decisions; then there were the unsure ones, who second guessed every choice they made and every order they received; and finally the few actually good ones got dragged down by the others. The pyromancer could only describe the whole situation as a mess.
Luckily, Chandra wasn't the kind of girl to give up at the first sign of adversity: she set up for them to meet twice a week, for as many hours as possible. She had them spar in groups in mock battles to help them learn to trust in their comrades. The Room of Hidden Things proved to be invaluable in recreating various scenarios for them to use, and the pyromancer made them focus on urban warfare and indoor skirmishes since those were the most probable for the teens.
Initially things went slow, but after two weeks her students stared to show some results: the small groups of four people helped forge bonds of trust –especially since she was careful to separate them both from the practical point of view of them being housemates, and both trying to keep compatible personalities together– and encouragement from their peers was more effective in smudging the worst traits and habits than her own words could ever be. By December, the four person teams were working like well oiled machines. Well, more like goblin-built contraptions that sometimes exploded, but well oiled nonetheless.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore hadn't been idle: reviewing his vast collection of memories pertaining to Voldemort he had identified two probable hiding places. The headmaster had in fact noticed that all hiding places had a meaning to the dark wizard, so he hypothesized that one of the horcrux might be someplace linked with Voldemort's infancy at the orphanage, and isolated two particular spots: the first was a cave near the sea where the children were taken during the summer, the other was the orphanage itself, even if it had meanwhile been demolished and replaced by a parking lot. All that was left was checking them out, something remanded to a time when Liliana was in the castle, as opposed to being in London dillydallying with Fleur.
Unfortunately, Dolores Umbridge hadn't been idle either: since disbanding Chandra's course she had noticed the inexplicable absence of a small number of students and, suspecting a rebellion brewing, decided to respond by creating the Inquisitorial Squad. On paper, it was supposedly an extension to the prefects, students keeping watch to help other students, but they actually were Umbridge eyes and ears. And even worse, they used her as much as she used them: most of them Slytherin, all pureblood supremacists, all bullies and oppressors looking to lord over their fellows. All in all, it was a combination spelling trouble for the rest of Hogwarts and Chandra's little band of rebels in particular.
The pyromancer herself wasn't too worried about the Squad though since Pansy was a member, and she knew full well that the Slytherin girl answered only to Liliana –and not to Umbridge or Voldemort– and once armed with one of Hermione's enchanted coins for communication she was a well of pilfered information eager to supply it. Spy games weren't exactly the redhead's forte, but she had learned the importance of information from Jace and her own mother, and she had always been a quick learner when she cared enough to be.