The next two weeks passed in a blue. Hermione had not brought up the subject of Harry teaching since that night in the common room. Harry had continued to have detention thought it was finally over. Classes went on as normal; it was as if it was a perfectly average time at school and Ellen did not find herself complaining about it one bit. She had started to write back and forth to Jasdevit and Sheril, enjoying hearing from them after so long.
The subject was finally broached again one evening at the end of September. They had all gathered in the library to work on various projects and homework. The three were trying desperately to look up potions ingredients for Snape while Ellen was writing another long letter to Jasdevit.
"I was wondering," Hermione broke the silence, "whether you'd thought any more about Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry."
" 'Course I have," said Harry grumpily. "Can't forget it, can we, with that hag teaching us —"
"I meant the idea Ron and I had about you teaching us."
"Well," Harry said slowly, "yeah, I — I've thought about it a bit."
"And?" said Hermione eagerly.
"I dunno," said Harry, playing for time. He looked up at Ron.
"I thought it was a good idea from the start," Ron said, looking far more eager.
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You did listen to what I said about a load of it being luck, didn'tyou?"
"Yes, Harry," said Hermione gently, "but all the same, there's no point pretending that you're not good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, because you are. You were the only person last year who could throw off the Imperius Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't, Viktor always said —"
"Yeah? What did Vicky say?" Ron said, a hint of mocking in his voice.
"Ho ho," said Hermione in a bored voice. "He said Harry knew how to do stuff even he didn't, and he was in the final year at Durmstrang."
Ron was looking at Hermione suspiciously. "You're not still in contact with him, are you?"
"So what if I am?" said Hermione coolly, though her face was a little pink. "I can have a pen pal if I —"
"He didn't only want to be your pen pal," said Ron accusingly.
Ellen snapped up from her letter. "Not the point, Ron. So what do you say Harry? You'll teach them?"
"Just you two, yeah?"
"Well," said Hermione, now looking a mite anxious again. "Well...now, don't fly off the handle again, Harry, please... But I really think you ought to teach anyone who wants to learn. I mean, we're talking about defending ourselves against V-Voldemort — oh, don't be pathetic, Ron — it doesn't seem fair if we don't offer the chance to other people."
Harry considered this for a moment, then said, "Yeah, but I doubt anyone except you two would want to be taught by me. I'm a nutter, remember?"
"Well, I think you might be surprised how many people would be interested in hearing what you've got to say," said Hermione seriously.
"Look," she leaned toward him, "you know the first weekend in October's a Hogsmeade weekend? How would it be if we tell anyone who's interested to meet us in the village and we can talk it over?"
"Why do we have to do it outside school?" said Ron.
"Because," said Hermione, "I don't think Umbridge would be very happy if she found out what we were up to."
Ellen leaned forward when Harry quietly brought up his fears about Sirius; what if he showed up during the weekend and someone recognized him?
"Well, you can't blame him for wanting to get out and about," said Ron. "I mean, he's been on the run for over two years, hasn't he, and I know that can't have been a laugh, but at least he was free, wasn't he? And now he's just shut up all the time with that lunatic elf."
"Look," Ellen started, "Until Voldemort is finally out in the open, he's going to have to keep hiding. It doesn't matter how much he likes it, it's what he has to do."
"I don't reckon he'd be stupid enough to turn up," said Ron bracingly. "Dumbledore'd go mad if he did and Sirius listens to Dumbledore even if he doesn't like what he hears."
When Harry continued to look worried, Hermione said, "Listen, Ron and I have been sounding out people who we thought might want to learn some proper Defense Against the Dark Arts, and there are a couple who seem interested. We've told them to meet us in Hogsmeade."
"Right," said Harry vaguely.
"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione said quietly. "You've got enough on your plate without Sirius too."
They left the library a few hours later. Ellen made an excuse about having a homework question and started making her way towards Tyki's office. She held in a groan when Hermione caught up to her, the other witch panting slightly.
"I have to ask you something." Hermione said. "And I don't want you to say that you aren't telling me."
"Ask away."
The witch took a deep breath. "Why do you have a shirt with Professor Mikk's monogram on it?"
Ellen stumbled and looked over at Hermione. "Come with me."
She wrapped her fingers around Hermione's wrist and quickly dragged the girl through the hall. She did not say a thing until they reached Tyki's door. The door swung open at her knock and she barged in with Hermione behind her. The other witch sat down on the plush chair in front of Tyki's desk; her facial expression became visibly tense when the professor locked the door.
He took a set behind his desk while Ellen sat on the very edge of it facing Hermione. "How did you know that it was Tyki's shirt?" Ellen said flatly.
"Well," Hermione started nervously. "I noticed it a few weeks when I picked up that shirt you threw next to my bed. It had T.M. monogramed onto the cuff but I thought that it might have been an old name that you used. When Professor Mikk was handing out woodlice last week I saw the same monogram on his sleeve and connected the dots."
The professor laughed heartily, earning a glare from the Noah on his desk. "You did say that she was clever, menina."
"This is serious, Tyki!" scolded Ellen. "Look, Hermione, this isn't what you think it is."
"I don't see how it can be anything else!" She said incredulously.
Ellen sighed deeply. "Hermione, Tyki is my husband."
The girl's jaw dropped and for the first time since Ellen had met her, she was completely speechless. "B-But how?" Hermione asked.
"You've heard me talk about him before, the name I used was Joyd though." She admitted. "Tyki is a Noah too. I've known him since I was 15 years old and we've been married since I was 17 years old."
"Does Dumbledore know that he's here? You said the others were dangerous!"
Tyki chuckled deeply. "The Headmaster was the one who hired me. He has been made aware of my...species, so to say."
"They are dangerous." said Ellen. "But they're on our side. They've all agreed to help the Order, do you not get how huge this is?"
The curly haired witch said nothing. Her mind was racing a million miles a minute as she tried to make sense of everything she had just learned. All she could do was stare at where the girl she considered a friend was sitting, their professor looking at the girl like she hung the stars in the sky. Ellen sighed and grabbed Hermione's hand gently.
"You can't tell anyone about this." She said, staring into the witch's eyes. "If this was to get out the Ministry would have us locked up in a second. We don't have the same rights that wizards do. There are only six of us in existence right now, no one would notice if we all were chucked into Azkaban."
"As if that mortal prison could hold us." Tyki snorted. She reached back and smacked him upside the head.
"Really not the time, love." said Ellen.
Hermione laughed at the sight before her. For such powerful, immortal beings, the Noah seemed so normal. They acted like any other old married couple that she knew. "I won't keep this from Harry and Ron. They deserve to know."
Ellen grinned widely. "No need to hide it from them, it'll only cause problems in the future if we do."
She hopped off the desk and looked at Hermione expectedly. The witch rose from her chair and went to the door, hesitating when Ellen did not join her. She looked back to see her friend and professor wrapped in a tight embrace. It was so painfully intimate that she forced herself to look away, ignoring the voice that told her that she wanted something like that.
Ellen kissed her husband firmly on the cheek and flounced over to where Hermione was waiting; she grabbed the other witch's wrist again and cheerfully walked through the halls. Once they got to the portrait she said the password quickly and pulled Hermione into the common room.
The boys were sitting by the fire playing a game of chess, Harry losing miserably. She walked up to them with Hermione in tow. "Harry, Ron, I've got something to tell you."
They looked up at her. "What is it?" asked Ron.
" 'Fraid I can't say it here." She replied cheerfully, like she was not about to reveal a huge secret. "I was thinking somewhere a little more private.
Harry gazed at her suspiciously, his eyes widening at the little nod she gave him. "C'mon mate, you'll want to see this."
They led the girls up the stairs into their dormitory, breathing a sigh of relief when it was completely empty. Ron and Hermione looked at Ellen oddly while she muttered the words under her breath. Their eyes widened when a glowing white circle appeared on the ground, a set of doors numbered '2' rising from the circle.
Ellen opened one of the doors and stepped through, poking her head back out. "Are you coming or what?"
The three quickly followed her in, Hermione gasping as she looked down on the town of the Ark from the same pavilion Ellen had taken Harry to.
The Noah grinned widely at her reaction. She gestured widely at the world around them. "Welcome to Noah's Ark."
"This is Noah's Ark?" Hermione gasped, her eyes wide. "But, how?"
Ellen waved her arm and the same large fountain that had appeared during Harry's visit grew from the ground. She plopped herself on the edge, inviting the others to join her. "One of my gifts as the Musician is that I control the Ark. It answers only to me."
"What's so special about this place?" Ron asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.
"Honestly, Ronald, don't you read?" Hermione sighed. "Noah's Ark is said to be where humanity originated after the world flooded. This is where it all began."
"She's right." Ellen nodded, a small smile on her face. "This is the Noah's ancestral home. You're some of the first humans to set foot on it in fifteen years."
The four of them sat around for a while, enjoying the warm breeze and the smell of the salt water fountain. "So what did you need to tell us?" Harry asked.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was going to say. "There are other Noah at Hogwarts."
"Who?" Harry said angrily. "You said they were dangerous, why have't you done anything?"
"Because they're on our side now!" She snapped. Ellen shook her head and forced herself to calm down. "They're on our side, Harry. They're with the Order."
"Then who are they?" Ron asked.
"Professor Mikk is one." Ellen admitted. "The other is a Slytherin first year. She goes by Rebecca Campbell now, but her name is Rhode Kamelot."
"Professor Mikk?" exclaimed Harry, shock written all over his face.
Ellen smiled tightly. "Yes, though I'm sure he would prefer it if you all just called him Tyki. That's not everything though."
"You see, I've been alive for a very long time. You have to understand that things were very different when I was your age, people did things a lot sooner because they died so young." She said nervously. "Tyki is my husband."
The boys' jaws dropped in shock. "He's your what?" Ron said incredulously. "Bloody hell, is that even legal?"
"My husband." She said calmly. "We've been married since December of 1803. Again, you have to remember that things were so different. It wasn't uncommon for people to marry someone so much older than they were. I knew of girls forced to marry men old enough to be their fathers, so it wasn't that big of an age gap really."
The teens said nothing for a few minutes; they just sat there and let the information soak in. Not only were there more people like Ellen at Hogwarts, but she was married to a professor. "Why didn't you tell us this from the start?" Harry asked harshly. "What if someone had got hurt because you wanted to keep a secret?"
"Albus has known that Tyki is a Noah from the first day of class, and as soon as I knew that Rhode was here I let him know." She forced herself to remain calm. "This is something that is strictly a need-to-know basis. I was going to tell you all at Christmas when the Clan will be there, but Hermione figured something out so here we are."
"You still should have told us." Hermione said softly. "You can trust us."
"I know, that's why I'm telling you now." She said. "You need to know who these people are, they're our allies. Tyki Mikk is the Third, he's Rhode's uncle. Sheril, his biological older brother, is the Fourth and he's Rhode's adoptive father. Rhode is the Ninth, she's technically the oldest among us. Jasdevit is a little...different. They're two people, a set of twins named Jasdero and Devit. Together they're the Tenth and Eleventh."
"Which one are you?" Harry finally asked.
She took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm the Fourteenth. My memory wasn't even supposed to exist. The original Fourteenth was born thirty-five years before I was. He died the day that I was born and for some reason his memory chose me."
"You called Professor Mikk something else earlier. Joyd?" Hermione pointed out. "What does that even mean."
"Our memories all carry the name of the original. Tyki is Joyd, Sheril is Dezairu, Jasdevit is Bondom. Rhode, well, is Rhode. Whoever her host was let herself be swallowed by the memory so long ago that Rhode doesn't even remember the girl's name." Ellen looked out at the great white town. "I wouldn't recommend calling them by those names, except for Rhode. When you call a Noah's true name it fights to get to the surface and take control. Noah may be human, but our memories are not."
"Ellen," Hermione asked quietly. "What's your name? We can't avoid saying it if we don't know what it is."
She swallowed hard and stared at the ground, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "His name was Neah."
Harry's head shot up. He brushed his fingers over the ring sitting on his right hand. So the password to get into the Ark was her Noah's name? She met his eyes and smiled grimly, her face telling him everything that he needed to know. It made sense, really. It had been her Noah that had first gained control of the Ark, his name must be the only way into it for outsiders.
Ellen looked over at them and smiled when she saw that they were all looking out at the Ark. It really was the most beautiful place that she had ever been, and to be able to short with them was something that truly made her happy.
"I hope that you all realize that you can't tell anyone that you've been inside the Ark." She said. "There are people who wold use it for their own personal gain and I can't let that happen."
"Of course we do." Hermione said before the others could speak. "We promise we'll keep it a secret."
Ellen grinned and waved her hand, opening another gate. "Perfect. Well, that's really all I have to tell you. Now come on, time for us to go."
She hopped out of the gate, the sound of laughter trickling in from outside. The trio walked up to the gate and peered out to see what was happening. The gate led to the same office Hermione had been in only an hour ago, Ellen was laughing hysterically while Professor Mikk held a hand to his heart, obviously having been startled.
She looked back up at them and motioned for them to follow her. They each climbed out of the gate and into the office, the gate disappearing behind them. "You should go back to the tower, I'll see you in a few hours."
They all walked out of the office quickly, the sound of laughter echoing in their was so much new information for them to take in, and not much time.
The rest of the week passes quickly and before they knew it the Hogsmeade visit was upon them. The day was bright and windy as they set out towards the village. Filch had sniffed Harry oddly whenever they passed, leading the boy to launch into the tale of how the caretaker had accused him of sending off dung bombs whenever he wrote to Sirius.
They walked between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars and turned left onto the road into the village, the wind whipping their hair into their eyes.
"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"
"Oh — no," said Hermione, coming out of her reverie, "no, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit...you know...dodgy...but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."
They walked down the main street past Zonko's Joke Shop, where they were unsurprised to see Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issued at regular intervals, and turned up a side street at the top of which stood a small inn. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture upon it of a wild boar's severed head leaking blood onto the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All three of them hesitated outside the door.
"Well, come on," said Hermione slightly nervously. Harry led the way inside.
It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be earthy, though as Ellen stepped onto it she realized that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.
There was a man at the bar whose whole head was wrapped in dirty gray bandages, though he was still managing to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth. In a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, black veil that fell to her toes. They could just see the tip of her nose because it caused the veil to protrude slightly.
"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. "Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?"
Hermione cast an appraising eye at the veiled figure. "Umbridge is shorter than that woman," she said quietly. "And
anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out-of-bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing."
"No," said Harry dryly, "especially as it's not exactly a homework group you're planning, is it?"
The barman sidled toward them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long gray hair and beard. Ellen grinned mischievously at the man.
"What?" he grunted.
"Three butterbeers, please," said Hermione.
The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.
"Six Sickles," he said.
"I'll get them," said Harry quickly, passing over the silver. Harry, Ron, and Hermione retreated to the farthest table from the bar and sat down, looking at where Ellen was still standing at the bar.
"Didn't know you were still around, Aberforth." She said under her breath, passing him a pair of sickles when he slid her a firewhisky. The man simply glared at her until she walked away to join the other three.
"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here, I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I'd like to try firewhisky again, it —"
"You — are — a — prefect," snarled Hermione.
"And," Ellen interjected, settling down with said drink. "We don't want a repeat of last time, do we Ronny?"
"Oh," said Ron, the smile fading from his face. "Yeah..."
"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his butterbeer and taking a swig.
"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checking her watch and then looking anxiously toward the door. "I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is — oh look, this might be them now —"
The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people. First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by the Patil twins and that Cho girl. Luna Lovegood wandered in a moment later, quickly followed by at least twenty people.
"A couple of people?" said Harry hoarsely to Hermione. "A couple of people?"
"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," said Hermione happily. "Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?"
"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly. Aberforth eyed him grumpily, somewhat in shock at how many people were in his pub. "Could we have...twenty-five butterbeers, please?"
The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in something very important, he started passing up dusty butterbeers from under the bar.
"Cheers," said Fred, handing them out. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these..."
She and Harry watched as the large group collected their drinks and passed the twin coins. While they were preoccupied with that, she noticed the door open again and held in a groan. Rhode's short form was standing in the doorway before making a beeline for the four.
"Hey Allen!" She chirped, wrapping the larger girl in a tight hug. "You wouldn't believe how hard it was to sneak out of that castle! I had to use my gates to get out."
Ellen blinked in surprise. "I told you not to call me that! And what the bloody hell are you doing here? How did you even hear about it?"
"Because I listen, duh." Rhode giggled. "Are you going to introduce me to your little friends or not?"
She groaned loudly and turned back to the trio. "Harry, Ron, Hermione this is Rebecca," She said through gritted teeth. "I told you about her earlier this week."
The three froze, staring at the tiny first year that Ellen had said was so powerful. "It's nice to meet you Rebecca." Hermione said politely. Harry continued to look out at the crowd before turning to Hermione
"What have you been telling people?" he said in a low voice. "What are they expecting?"
"I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got to say," said Hermione soothingly; but Harry continued to look at her so furiously that she added quickly, "You don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first."
"Hi, Harry," said Neville, beaming and taking a seat opposite Harry. Rhode was swinging her feet back and forth in the too large seat, grinning widely at Ellen. She reached out and grabbed her glass of firewhisky and took a swig, making a disgusted face. Ellen laughed loudly at it and ruffled the Noah's hair.
In twos and threes the new arrivals settled around them, some looking rather excited, others curious, Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. When everybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out. Every eye was upon Harry.
"Er," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. "Well — er — hi."
The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry. "Well...erm...well, you know why you're here. Erm...well, Harry here had the idea — I mean" — Harry had thrown her a sharp look — "I had the idea — that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us" — Hermione's voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident — "because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts, well, I thought it would be good if we took matters into our own hands."
She paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells —"
"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" called out one of the boys in the crowd.
"Of course I do," said Hermione at once. "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because...because..." She took a great breath and finished, "Because Lord Voldemort's back."
"Well...that's the plan anyway," said Hermione. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to —"
"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice.
"Well, Dumbledore believes it —" Hermione began.
"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," said the blond boy, nodding at Harry.
"Who are you?" said Ron rather rudely.
"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."
"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about —"
"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry.
"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."
Zacharias said dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know —"
"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry said. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."
"So," said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. "So... like I was saying...if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to —"
"Is it true," interrupted the girl with the long plait down her back, looking at Harry, "that you can produce a Patronus?"
"Yeah," said Harry slightly defensively.
"A corporeal Patronus?"
"Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" he asked. The girl smiled.
"She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year..."
"Er — yeah, I did, yeah," said Harry.
"Look," he said and everyone fell silent at once, "I...I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but...I had a lot of help with all that stuff..."
Arguments broke out when everyone began discussing Harry's accomplishments, everyone insisting something different. Hermione cleared her throat loudly, catching their attention.
"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, "moving on...the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"
There was a murmur of general agreement.
"Right," said Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week —"
"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."
"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."
"Nor ours," added Zacharias Smith.
"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," said Hermione, slightly impatiently, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters —"
"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff that Ellen had spoken to a few times before. "Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!"
When nobody spoke, he went on, "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells —"
"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, "is that she's got some... some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."
Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybody except Luna Lovegood, who piped up, "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."
"What?" Harry exclaimed.
"Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths," said Luna solemnly.
"No, he hasn't," snapped Hermione.
"Yes, he has," said Luna.
"What are heliopaths?" asked Neville, looking blank.
"They're spirits of fire," said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —"
"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione tartly.
"Oh yes they do!" said Luna angrily.
"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" snapped Hermione.
"There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —"
"Hem, hem," said Ginny in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?"
"Yes," said Hermione at once, "yes, we were, you're right..."
"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.
"As long as —" began Angelina.
"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," said Hermione in a tense voice. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet..."
This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent. Harry glanced over at Ellen to see her stiff as a board, mismatched hangs gripping the table tightly.
"Library?" suggested Katie Bell after a few moments.
"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," said Harry.
"Maybe an unused classroom?" said Dean.
"Yeah," said Ron, "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard..."
"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," said Hermione. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."
She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something. "I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she 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."
Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully put down his signature, but Ellen noticed at once that several people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list. There were a few protests, but soon everyone was signing. Ellen and Rhode managed to avoid having the paper passed to them, looking at each other in agreement that they would actually discuss it with Hermione.
When the last person — Zacharias — had signed, Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.
"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."
In twos and threes the rest of the group took their leave too. Soon everyone was gone, leaving the trio plus Rhode and Ellen in the pub. Ellen downed the rest of her drink and stood, following the others out.
"Well, I think that went quite well," said Hermione happily, as they walked out into the bright sunlight a few moments later, Harry and Ron still clutching their bottles of butterbeer.
"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," said Ron, who was glowering after the figure of Smith just discernible in the distance.
"I don't like him much either," admitted Hermione, "but he overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say? But the more people the better really.."
"You should have just Obliviated him." Rhode chirped from where she was skipping next to Ellen. "It makes things so much easier~"
Ellen rolled her eyes. "Don't you need to get back to the castle, Rebecca?"
"Fine," Rhode pouted. "But you have to bring me back some candy! I want blood pops!"
"I will, now go!" Ellen all but shoved her into the alley.
She grit her teeth when she heard Rhode call out "Bye Allen!"
The trio peeked back into the alley, confused at the dead end. Ellen smiled and shook her head, pulling them along with her. "I'm sure she's already back in the castle. Rhode has her own gifts."
She spotted Zonko's ahead and walked in, waving goodbye to her friends while she fulfilled her end of the deal she made.
The rest of the weekend passed with relative ease. Once she was able to get Rhode her candy, Ellen spent the majority of her free time with Hermione and the doxy that was content to stay in her dormitory now. Late Sunday afternoon found her outside with the boys. They worked on their homework while Ellen just allowed herself to take in the warm sunlight.
Sunset was approaching when they finally headed inside and back to the common room. They were halfway through the room when they noticed that everyone was gathered around the notice board. Upon further inspection they saw that there was a large sign attached to it.
The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.
— by order of —
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts
All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and
Clubs are henceforth disbanded.
An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby
defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High
Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No Student Organization, 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
Organization, 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:
High Inquisitor, Dolores Umbridge
"This isn't a coincidence," Harry said, his hands forming fists. "She knows."
"She can't," said Ron at once.
"There were people listening in that pub. And let's face it, we don't know how many of the people who turned up we can trust...Any of them could have run off and told Umbridge..."
"Zacharias Smith!" said Ron at once, punching a fist into his hand.
"I wonder if Hermione's seen this yet?" Harry said, looking around at the door to the girls' dormitories.
"Let's go and tell her," said Ron. He bounded forward, pulled open the door, and set off up the spiral staircase before Ellen could warn him. He was on the sixth stair when it happened. There was a loud, wailing 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 madly like windmills, then he toppled over backward and shot down the newly created slide, coming to rest on his back at their feet.
"Er — I don't think we're allowed in the girls' dormitories," said Harry, pulling Ron to his feet and trying not to laugh.
Two fourth-year girls came zooming gleefully down the stone slide. "Oooh, who tried to get upstairs?" they giggled happily, leaping to their feet and ogling Harry and Ron.
"Me," said Ron, who was still rather disheveled. "I didn't realize that would happen. It's not fair!" he added. "Hermione's allowed in our dormitory, how come we're not allowed — ?"
"Well, it's an old-fashioned rule," said Hermione, who had just slid neatly onto a rug in front of them and was now getting to her feet, "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!" said Ron, dragging her over to the notice board. Hermione's eyes slid rapidly down the notice. 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 honorable and trustworthy —"
"No, they can't have done because I put a jinx on that piece of parchment we all signed," said Hermione grimly. "Believe me, if anyone's run off and told Umbridge, we'll know exactly who they are and they will really regret it."
"This is exactly why Rhode and I didn't sign that." Ellen grumbled. "You can't just go around jinxing people."
"What'll happen to them?" said Ron eagerly.
"Well, put it this way," said Hermione, "it'll make Eloise Midgen's acne look like a couple of cute freckles. Come on, let's get down to breakfast and see what the others think...I wonder whether this has been put up in all the Houses?"
It was immediately apparent on 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. Harry, Ron, Ellen, and Hermione had barely
taken their seats when Neville, Dean, Fred, George, and Ginny descended upon them.
"Did you see it?"
"D'you reckon she knows?" "What are we going to do?"
"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.
"Bet Umbridge is in History of Magic," said Ron grimly, as they set off for Binns's lesson. "She hasn't inspected Binns yet...Bet you anything she's there..."
But he was wrong; the only teacher present when they entered was Professor Binns, floating an inch or so above his chair as usual and preparing to continue his monotonous drone on giant wars. Hermione looked out the window and nudged Harry. They all looked up to see his snowy white owl sitting there, tapping on the window.
Harry slipped quietly off his chair, crouched down, and hurried along the row to the window, where he slid the
catch and opened it very slowly. He removed the letter and brought her into his lap, frowning when he noticed her feathers were oddly ruffled; some were bent the wrong way, and she was holding one of her wings at an odd angle.
"She's hurt!" Harry whispered, bending his head low over her. "Look — there's something wrong with her wing —"
Hedwig was quivering; when Harry made to touch the wing she gave a little jump, all her feathers on end as though she was inflating herself, and gazed at him reproachfully.
"Professor Binns," said Harry loudly, and everyone in the class turned to look at him. "I'm not feeling well."
"Not feeling well?" he repeated hazily.
"Not at all well," said Harry firmly, getting to his feet while concealing Hedwig behind his back. "So I think I'll need to go to the hospital wing."
"I'll go with him!" Ellen leapt up, her mouth set in a grim line.
"Yes," said Professor Binns, clearly very much wrong-footed. "Yes...yes, hospital wing...well, off you go, then, Perkins..."
Harry looked out the window when they left, obviously looking for something. He made a frustrated noise and took off down the hallway, Ellen having to jog to keep up. He led them to the staffroom, knocking loudly.
"You haven't been given another detention!" McGonagall opened the door, her square spectacles flashing alarmingly.
"No, Professor!" said Harry hastily.
"Well then, why are you out of class?"
"I'm looking for Professor Mikk," Harry explained. "It's my owl, she's injured."
"Injured owl, hm?" Tyki appeared at Professor McGonagall's shoulder, pulling his curly hair back into a low ponytail. He looked behind Harry to see Ellen, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Yes," said Harry, lifting Hedwig carefully off his shoulder, "she turned up after the other post owls and her wing's all funny, look —"
Tyki finished tying off his hair and took Hedwig from Harry while Professor McGonagall watched. "It looks like something has attacked her. I would say thestral, but the ones here at Hogwarts are so well trained.."
Professor McGonagall looked sharply at Harry and said, "Do you know how far this owl's traveled, Potter?"
"Er," said Harry. "From London, I think."
Tyki pulled out a pair of glasses and set them on his face, leaning in to inspect the owl's wing. "I can help her, but it will take a few days." He said, tucking his glasses away. "And you should keep her from flying long distances for the week. We would not want this beautiful lady hurting any more."
He rubbed the top of the owl's head lightly before reaching down and handing Harry the letter from her leg. Tyki looked at he and Ellen with a startling amount of seriousness. "You should be more careful, you never know who might be reading your letters."
He walked out past them with the owl, glancing back once. Ellen smiled at him and grabbed Harry's wrist pulling him away from the staffroom
"Who's the letter from anyway?" asked Ron, taking the note from Harry when they finally caught up with them.
"Snuffles," said Harry quietly.
" 'Same time, same place'? Does he mean the fire in the common room?"
"Obviously," said Hermione, also reading the note. She looked uneasy. "I just hope nobody else has read this..."
"But it was still sealed and everything," said Harry. "And nobody would understand what it meant if they didn't know where we'd spoken to him before, would they?"
"I don't know," said Hermione anxiously, hitching her bag back over her shoulder as the bell rang again. "It wouldn't be exactly difficult to reseal the scroll by magic...And if anyone's watching the Floo Network...but I don't really see how we can warn him not to come without that being intercepted too!"
They trudged down the stone steps to the dungeons for Potions, all four of them lost in thought. They took their usual seats at the back of the class and pulled out parchment, quills, and their copies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang.
"You will notice," said Snape in his low, sneering voice, "that we have a guest with us today."
He gestured toward the dim corner of the dungeon, and they saw Professor Umbridge sitting there, clipboard on her knee."We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend — instructions" — he waved his wand again — "on the board. Carry on."
"Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level," Umbridge said after a observing for a while, briskly walking to Snape's back. "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 was removed from the syllabus."
Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her.
"Now...how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.
"Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable.
"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.
"Yes," said Snape quietly.
"But you were unsuccessful?"
Snape's lip curled. "Obviously."
Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. "And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"
"Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry.
"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge.
"I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily.
"Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile.
"I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed.
"Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers' — er — backgrounds..."
She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape walked over to their table and sneered at Harry's admittedly terrible potion.
"No marks again, then, Potter," said Snape maliciously, 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," said Harry furiously. Their class ended quickly and before they knew it they were in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Good afternoon, class."
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted drearily.
"Wands away, please..."
But there was no answering flurry of movement this time; nobody had bothered to take out their wands.
"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," The four said under their breath.
"No Quidditch practice," Ellen heard Angelina say hollowly when they finally entered the common room. She shrugged and settled in one of the chairs by the fire. She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment and a bent quill. Jasdevit were waiting on her reply in the next couple of days, she really needed to get on it.
"Well," said Hermione when they walked over to where Ellen as sitting, "look on the bright side — at least now you'll have time to do Snape's essay!"
"That's a bright side, is it?" snapped Harry. "No Quidditch practice and extra Potions?"
Harry slumped down into a chair, dragged his Potions essay reluctantly from his bag, and set to work. It was hours before the common room finally cleared. She had long finished writing her letter and was now sketching absentmindedly in the sketchbook Tyki had given her. Ron was dozing away lightly when he woke with a grunt.
"Sirius!" They all whipped around towards the fire; Ellen grinned widely when she saw his untidy dark head sitting in the fireplace.
"Hi," he said, grinning.
"Hi," chorused Harry, Ron, Ellen, and Hermione, all four kneeling down upon the hearthrug.
"How're things?" said Sirius.
"Not that good," said Harry. "The Ministry's forced through another decree, which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch teams —"
"— or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?" said Sirius. There was a short pause.
"How did you know about that?" Harry demanded.
"You want to choose your meeting places more carefully," said Sirius, grinning still more broadly. "The Hog's Head, I ask you..."
"Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!" said Hermione 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?" Harry demanded.
"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?"
"What do you think he was doing?" said Sirius impatiently. "Keeping an eye on you, of course."
"I'm still being followed?" asked Harry 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 organize an illegal defense group."
Ellen frowned at Sirius. She was supposed to be the one that was in charge of keeping Harry safe, so why were they still sending guards to watch him? 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've liked to've seen him."
"He was banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago," said Sirius, "and that barman's got a long memory. We lost Moody's spare Invisibility Cloak when Sturgis was 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?" said Ron, sounding apprehensive.
"She says on no account whatsoever are you to take part in an illegal secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group. She says you'll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there will 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" — Sirius's eyes turned to the other two — "advises Harry and Hermione not to proceed with the group, though she accepts that she has no authority over either of them and simply begs them to remember that she has their 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?" said Ron quickly.
"Never you mind, just stuff for the Order," said Sirius. "So it's fallen to me to be the messenger and make sure you tell her I passed it all on, because I don't think she trusts me to."
"Aww, no advice for me?" Ellen teased. "And here I thought Molly cared."
"So you want me to say I'm not going to take part in the defense group?" Harry muttered.
"Me? Certainly not!" said Sirius, looking surprised. "I think it's an excellent idea!"
"You do?" said Harry, his heart lifting.
"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 take risks —"
"Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!" said Sirius impatiently. "This year we know that there's someone outside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!"
"And if we do get expelled?" Hermione asked, a quizzical look on her face.
"Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!" said Harry, staring at her.
"I know it was...I just wondered what Sirius thought," she said, shrugging.
"Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue," said Sirius.
"Hear, hear," said Harry and Ron enthusiastically.
"So," said Sirius, "how are you organizing this group? 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..."
"And we are not using the Ark." Ellen said firmly. "I don't want a bunch of humans mucking around in there with no clue as to what they're doing."
"How about the Shrieking Shack?" suggested Sirius.
"Hey, that's an idea!" said Ron excitedly, but Hermione made a skeptical noise and all four of them looked at her, Sirius's head turning in the flames.
"Well, Sirius, it's just that there were only four of you meeting in the Shrieking Shack when you were at school," said Hermione, "and all of you could transform into animals and I suppose you could all have squeezed under a single Invisibility Cloak if you'd wanted to. But there are twenty-eight of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn't need so much an Invisibility Cloak as an Invisibility Marquee —"
"Fair point," said Sirius, looking slightly crestfallen. "Well, I'm sure you'll come up with somewhere...There used to be a pretty roomy secret passageway behind that big mirror on the fourth floor, you might have enough space to practice jinxes in 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 a think and get back to —"
He broke off. His face was suddenly tense, alarmed. He turned sideways, apparently looking into the solid brick wall of the fireplace.
"Sirius?" said Harry anxiously.
But he had vanished. Harry gaped at the flames for a moment, then turned to look at Ron and Hermione.
"Why did he — ?" Hermione gave a horrified gasp and leapt to her feet, still staring at the fire. A hand had appeared amongst the flames, groping as though to catch hold of something; a stubby, short-fingered hand covered in ugly old-fashioned rings...
The four of them ran for it; at the door of the boys' dormitory they looked back. Umbridge's hand was still making snatching movements amongst the flames, as though she knew exactly where Sirius's hair had been moments before and was determined to seize it.
YA GIRL IS BACK, WHO MISSED ME?
It's been a crazy two weeks. I was in the hospital and I turned 21 this past Saturday so I wasn't in the state to do much editing lately. As usual, if you have any questions I answer every single review. And if you'd like an updates or just general stupidity my tumblr name is pansyparkinsxnn
pansyparkinsxnn . tumblr . com (just remove the spaces!)