"Morning Bahorel." Enjolras met the third year in the common room like he did every morning. "Sleep well?" Ever since the second time Enjolras had gotten beat up in the Gryffindor common room Bahorel met him at the foot of the stairs and took him down to breakfast were they sat with Courfeyrac and Combeferre near the end of the Gryffindor table. Rule breaking or not, no one dared say anything. Bahorel was a beater on the quidditch team, in addition to one of the best duelers the school had had in years. So the foursome sat together at meals and met to discuss their plans whenever they were free.
"Kind of young to be planning a revolution, aren't you?" Bahorel had asked.
"No, it is never too early to plan for change." Enjolras had said firmly.
"You're crazy kid." But Bahorel had come to a 'meeting' the next time he had been asked, and the time after that. One day he dragged a friend along. "This is Grantaire. He's drunk most of the time, swears too much, and is a fifth year Slytherin."
"Why is he here?" Courfeyrac asked, inching away from the older student.
"I found him passed out in the halls."
"You have a habit of rescuing endangered souls." Combeferre commented. "Why bring him here?"
"He needs to turn his life around."
"And we are now the way peoples lives get turned around? OK, he can stay. But he has to wash before he comes next time." Enjolras wrinkled his nose. "He smells horrid."
"I do not." The disheveled fifth year protested.
"Yes you do." Courfeyrac said, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "Come on. You're going to get cleaned up, and while you do that, I will fix your robes." He led the protesting student away, smiling and talking, and using his Hufflepuff charm.
A week later Grantaire began coming to meetings again. His robes had been patched; his hair trimmed so it curled around his ears and some color had come into his cheeks. However, as soon as Courfeyrac turned away, he reached into his robe and pulled out a flask of fire whiskey.
"It was like rehab in there." He grumbled, "But with nice people. They made me take warm baths and eat cookies and drink pumpkin juice and they fixed my robes and uggggg."
"That doesn't sound so bad." Combeferre commented. "And you smell better."
Grantaire sulked.
Bahorel raised an eyebrow at the others. "Can he stay?"
"Of course." The words were out of Enjolras's mouth before he could think why. "And anyone else, even if they just need a place to sit for a few hours. We will welcome and shelter anyone who asks." The others nodded; they would become a safe haven, a place of refuge. A shelter.
Although from what they did not yet know.