Harry bolted upright in bed, his body covered in a cold sweat. He had had that same dream again. The one where he was in the Department of Mysteries—in that strange room filled with glass orbs. That was nothing new…but then it had morphed into something much more sinister. The familiar landscape had given way to a graveyard filled with tombstones. Cedric was there, and then…No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get that awful moment out of his mind. He couldn't get over the fact that he hadn't been able to save Cedric from Voldemort, even though he had been right there.
But the worst part was, it wasn't a dream. Voldemort was back—but no one seemed to believe him. He had become the laughingstock of the school, and some of the other students even thought that he was the one who had killed Cedric. Just the thought made him want to vomit.
And as if that wasn't enough, Hogwarts was falling apart at the seams. Dumbledore had gone missing and the new headmistress, Dolores Umbridge from the Ministry, stubbornly refused to teach them any actual, useful magic. When Voldemort attacked—and Harry knew it was only a matter of time—they would be no better off than sitting ducks.
The next day he shared his frustrations with Ron and Hermione. He didn't talk about his nightmare, just the part about being defenseless against Voldemort.
"You're absolutely right, Harry," Hermione said, "we need a real defence against the dark arts teacher."
Ron nodded emphatically in agreement, something he had learned to do whenever Hermione was speaking.
"We need someone who has actual combat experience," she continued. "Someone who understands the urgency of the situation, and someone who knows You-Know-Who better than any of us. We need someone who has fought against him and has lived to tell the tale."
She was now looking at him with a mischievous smile.
Harry drew back instinctively. "You can't mean…"
A mere two days later he sat in an abandoned art room, waiting for his so-called pupils to arrive. He had tried to protest against Hermione's crazy idea, but there was no beating that girl in an argument.
He honestly didn't expect anyone to come, but as the minutes passed, they trickled in. There were all the Weasleys that were currently at Hogwarts—Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny. Kind-hearted Neville had come, as well as the mysterious Luna Lovegood and his crush Cho Chang. Parvati Patil came with Lavender Brown and her twin, Padma, from Ravenclaw. The group was rounded out by the Creevey brothers—Colin and Dennis.
They filed into the room and took whatever seats were available, waiting for him to speak.
Harry cleared his throat nervously. "Thank you all for coming. I…well…"
He glanced at Hermione desperately. "You all know why we're here," she took over, her voice confident and clear. "We need a teacher—a proper one. One who's had experience defending themselves against the dark arts."
"Because You-Know-Who is here?" Cho broke in skeptically.
"That's right," Hermione answered evenly. "He's back, and without proper training we'll be in trouble. That's why Harry is going to help teach us to defend ourselves."
"Is it true that you can produce the Patronus charm, Harry?" Dennis Creevey asked eagerly.
"Yes, he can," Hermione answered. "I've seen it with my own eyes. And he killed a basilisk with the sword in Dumbledore's office."
Ginny Weasley spoke up timidly. "It's true. He saved my life back then."
"And that's not all" Ron jumped in. "Third year, he fought off about a hundred dementors at once. And last year, he really did fight off You-Know-Who in the flesh."
"Wait," Harry finally found his voice. "Look, it all sounds great when you say it like that…but the truth is, most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time, and I nearly always had help."
"He's just being modest," Hermione interrupted.
"No, I'm not." He turned to look at the small band of students before him. "Facing this stuff in real life is not like in school. In school, if you make a mistake you can just try again tomorrow. But out there, when you're a second away from being murdered…or watching a friend die right before your eyes..." Cedric's face leapt into his mind. "You don't know what it's like," he finished softly.
"You're right, Harry," Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. "We don't. That's why we need your help if we're going to have any chance at beating…," she took a deep breath, "Voldemort."
Neville's eyes widened. "It's not a lie, is it? He's…really back, isn't he?"
Harry nodded solemnly. "I wish it was a lie…but it's true."
A wave of excited murmurs swept over the group, but Hermione once again stepped up to put things into order. "Alright, so now that that's settled, we'll need to find a place to practice. Someplace where Umbridge won't find us."
"How about the Shrieking Shack?" Fred and George suggested at the same time.
Hermione shook her head. "Too small."
"What about the Forbidden Forest, then?" Luna said brightly.
Ron shuddered, thoughts of spiders dancing through his head. "Not bloody likely."
"No," Hermione mused, "that just might work. It's private, and we can make as much noise as we need to. The only problem is getting there without being noticed. We have Harry's invisibility cloak, but there's no way all of us can fit under it. A maximus spell is also impossible, since it's a magical item and its chemical properties are different…"
"Hey, guys," George spoke up. "Ginny has an idea." He smiled encouragingly at his little sister. "Go on, Ginny. Tell them."
"Well," she began in a voice that was barely above a whisper, "I was thinking that since we can't make the cloak bigger, maybe we could make ourselves smaller…"
"Diminuendo!" Hermione cried excitedly. She ran over to hug the younger girl. "Ginny, that's brilliant!"