Nobody said anything for several long moments following Tracey's declaration. Even though they'd all been exceptionally quiet for most of the evening, the total silence was almost deafening.

"You're going to what?" Harry finally said, his jaw dropping slightly as he stared at Tracey in disbelief.

"I'm going to join the Inquisitorial Squad," Tracey repeated. When everyone else continued to stare at her as if she'd gone mad, she rolled her eyes and said, "Listen – Umbridge forming this group is definitely going to make it harder for things, specifically the DA, to go undetected. Hermione was right about that. So we're going to beat her at her own game and put someone on the inside."

"While I don't deny that that's a brilliant idea, Trace, why you?" Draco asked. "No offense, but you're not exactly my first pick when I think of a spy."

"Which is why it makes sense for me to do it, you dunce," Tracey retorted. "Besides, I have something that you don't – connections to the Ministry." Draco raised his eyebrows in question, and the Slytherin girl sighed and sank back into her armchair, looking exasperated.

"Umbridge works for the Ministry – we all know that," she began. "We all know she's reporting back to Fudge on everything that goes on around here, and we all know that both of them are doing their best to discredit anything Dumbledore puts out there. She's realized, though, that she'll have a lot more to tell Fudge if she has more eyes and ears to do her snooping – thus, the formation of the Squad. I got this when the post arrived this morning." Tracey reached down and fumbled with the clasp on her bag until it eventually popped open, and she rummaged through her papers a bit before finding what she was looking for. The parchment was as thick as Muggle cardstock with a fine border, fancy golden script spelling out Tracey's personal invitation to join.

"My father has always been very vocal about his support of the Ministry," she said with a disdainful sniff. "I'm sure you noticed his opinions were prominent amongst those in the article announcing Umbridge as High Inquisitor?" The others nodded – of course they'd noticed. Tracey was one of their close friends, after all.

"Those are the kids she's recruiting – ones whose parents openly support her or the Ministry," Tracey said. "I think she figures if the parents are for it, the kids are too – too bad for her that she hasn't bothered to check."

"Taking her down from within – I like it," Blaise said, giving his girlfriend an approving look. Tracey smirked.

"Are you sure about this?" Harry asked. "I'd hate for you to get caught…" Tracey raised her eyebrows at him.

"Getting caught is for Gryffindors, Potter," she said imperiously, sticking her nose in the air and causing Draco and Blaise to snicker. She dropped the haughty act and smiled then, adding, "Don't worry about me – I'll be fine."

By the end of the week, Tracey was an official member of the Inquisitorial Squad, a tiny badge in the shape of the letter 'I' pinned to her robes just above the Slytherin crest. Hermione wasted no time in demanding that Tracey hand over the badge the instant she walked into the Room of Requirement for that night's DA meeting.

"I'll give it back in a second," Hermione said impatiently, waving her wand in intricate swirls over the little silver badge. All her diagnostic tests came back negative, but she didn't trust herself to know all the important ones, and so she pointed her wand once more at the badge and said, "Geminio". Seconds later, she held two badges in her hand instead of one.

"I duplicated it," she said almost unnecessarily as she handed the copy to Tracey. "I wouldn't put it past Umbridge to have put a tracking spell on them or something…" She then ran from the room, and she was gone for nearly fifteen minutes before she finally returned empty-handed.

"It's in a niche on that ugly old vase outside the boys' loo on the sixth floor," she informed them as she sat down on her cushion. "Just in case, of course."

That night, they worked on Stunning spells, breaking into pairs and taking it in turns to practice the spell on each other. Hermione was paired with Ron, who seemed more than reluctant to cast the spell on her. After the fourth straight Stunner shot far over her head to disintegrate harmlessly against the wall, Hermione snapped, "Oh, honestly," and had Ron flat on his back in a Full-Body Bind before he could so much as blink. Draco caught her eye from across the room and gave her a 'what's going on?' look, but she shook her head almost imperceptibly, telling him without words that she'd handle this one on her own.

"Ron, this is getting a little ridiculous, don't you think?" Hermione said quietly as she sat next to him and reversed her spell. Ron sat up, groaning as he massaged the parts of himself that had collided hardest with the floor when he fell.

"I can't do it," he said, sounding almost defeated. "I can't hex you, it just feels…I dunno, wrong."

"Yes, you can, Ron," Hermione said firmly. "You can, and you must."

"Must?" Ron repeated. "Why?"

"Because it's that much harder to curse your friends than it is your enemies," Hermione said. "If you can't jinx everyone in this room without hesitation, how can you say you'll be ready when it's a Death Eater on the other end?"

"But it won't be," Ron protested, "because Death Eaters deserve it. You…don't." His ears were red and he was deliberately staring at the floor, his long arms wrapped around his knees.

"Ron, look at me," Hermione said softly. At first, he shook his head firmly, but with a little more coaxing on her part, he finally relented.

"It's sweet that you care – it really is – but that's not going to help you. These exercises aren't just about improving your spells, they're about developing trust. It takes a huge amount of trust to just let someone hex you like that, especially if we're specifically saying not to block anything. The person being hexed has to trust that their partner is doing the right thing, and the person doing the hexing has to trust that their partner is going to be alright. If you're constantly worried about everyone around you, it could get you into a lot of trouble."

"It makes sense when you say it, but that sense goes away as soon as I try to do it," Ron said. "It's part of why I can't understand how you and Draco can so calmly hex each other six ways to Sunday." Hermione chose to ignore the touch of bitterness with which he said Draco's name and smiled slightly.

"We've had a lot of practice, and a lot of time to build up that trust. When he sends a curse my way, I trust that I'll be able to do something about it, and if I can't, I know that it won't hurt me beyond a few cuts or bruises. We use inanimate targets to both test and practice anything that might be harmful."

"But what about the knife?" Ron pressed. "You can't tell me you would've just gotten scratched had that knife hit its mark!"

"No, I wouldn't have," Hermione agreed, understanding that he was still fixated on that particular detail, "but I wasn't unprepared either." She pulled her own blade from its sheath and held it out so Ron could see.

"I told you before that Draco isn't the only one who has one of these," she said. "Harry and I have them too, and we've been practicing with them all summer – that was definitely not the first time Draco had thrown his at me, nor will it be the last. I can knock an oncoming weapon out of the way with this knife or my wand in equal measure, and I can assure you that I know just as many ways to incapacitate someone with this as I do with my magic." Hermione sheathed her knife then and stared right into Ron's eyes.

"Like I said before – it all comes down to trust. If you can't trust those on your own side, you're dead before you've even started. Now, are you ready to put aside whatever you think of me and trust me?" Ron met her gaze for a long moment before he nodded and leapt to his feet, shouting "Stupefy!" before he could give himself a chance to back out again. The two Gryffindors were so close together that the force of the spell sent Hermione flying a good distance away before she crashed to the floor. Ron's worry came back in an instant as he dashed to her side and performed the counter curse.

"Damn it, Hermione, I'm so sorry, are you alright?" He opened his mouth to apologize again but was cut off by a wand in his gut and a shouted incantation, his tall form blasted across the room in much the same way as he'd just done to Hermione. Dazed, he looked up, only to see Hermione herself standing over him, a smirk on her face and her wand pointed at his chest.

"You were saying?" she snorted, and that was all Ron needed for the final barrier to break, their hearty duel continuing in earnest for the rest of the meeting.

The routine of classes, homework, Quidditch practice, and DA meetings continued, and October crept into November with very little fanfare, Harry positively marveling at the fact that he'd had an event-free Halloween for once. Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad continued to be a thorn in everyone's side, especially as the Squad was given the power to dock house points and was taking advantage of that ability left and right, and the fifth-years finally had inspected lessons. Flitwick's inspection had hardly caused any disruption at all, and they had to stifle their laughter at the scathing tones both Snape and McGonagall employed towards Umbridge, but some of the other inspections weren't quite so satisfying. Harry informed them all one day after dinner that the Divination inspection had been nothing short of disastrous, with Umbridge going so far as to demand that Professor Trelawney make a prediction for her, and they'd fought back angry tears when Umbridge had made Hagrid look like some sort of animalistic brute during Care of Magical Creatures. Knowing that teachers who failed inspection were subject to probation and/or termination, they were all on edge regarding the gamekeeper's fate.

The tense atmosphere lightened up a bit when Slytherin played Ravenclaw on the second Saturday in November. Both teams fielded strong lineups, and those who turned up to watch were treated to a thrilling match full of fancy moves, high-paced action, numerous goals, and an exciting battle for the Snitch that culminated in Slytherin's narrow victory. Draco, who was now unquestionably Slytherin's top Chaser, took credit for a large percentage of his team's points, his blond hair flashing in the weak November sun as he raced his trusty Nimbus around the pitch.

While Draco was ecstatic over the win, Cho Chang was equally as upset about her loss. Ravenclaw's captain had given her a thorough scolding once the match was over, and Cho was still all over the place at the following Monday's DA meeting, her spell work suffering severely as a result. When she'd nearly put someone in the hospital wing for the third time in twenty minutes, Harry pulled her aside, gesturing for the others to continue working.

"Cho, what's going on?" he asked once they'd seated themselves against the wall by the door. Cho sighed and stared at the floor, her face red with embarrassment.

"I can't really explain it, Harry," she said. "This term's just been rough, that's all."

"Well, take a breather for a few, yeah?" Harry suggested. "You nearly took Neville's head off with that last jinx – I can tell you're not yourself."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Cho said. "I'll just rest for a minute." Harry stood and started to head back to the group.

"Harry?" He turned back to look at the Ravenclaw girl.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Thanks." Cho offered him a tentative smile, and he shrugged and nodded, not quite sure what he'd done to warrant the sentiment. He stepped back and surveyed the room – the DA members were spread out and hard at work on the Impediment jinx, and he grinned to himself when he saw Neville successfully stop Luna in her tracks. Neville's wand work – and his confidence – had improved exponentially since he'd joined the DA, and Harry was thrilled that he'd had a part in helping his friend grow so much.

His thoughts returned to the dark-haired Seeker sitting on the floor, and he sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. Harry had a feeling that Cho was upset about far more than just Ravenclaw's loss – although he could understand her frustration, he knew that a single Hogwarts Quidditch game generally wasn't enough to throw anyone into such a funk for so long. He'd seen her arguing more than once with Marietta Edgecombe, the curly-haired Ravenclaw she'd brought with her to the first DA meeting, and of course there was the fact that she'd been Cedric Diggory's long-term girlfriend before he'd died, a fact that severely clashed with her current behavior. Harry didn't consider himself exceptionally well-versed in the ways of women, but he'd spent enough time with Hermione and Ginny to pick up on some things, and he hadn't missed the longing looks Cho occasionally shot his way. He was almost positive that Cho fancied him – or at the very least, was lusting after him – and he wanted nothing to do with it. Cedric hadn't even been dead six months – if Cho had really cared about him, there was no way she would've gotten over his death so quickly, and Harry absolutely did not want to be a rebound of any sort. The hard part was figuring out how to tell her that without blatantly throwing it in her face, and Harry hadn't quite gotten that far yet. With a quick glance at the clock, he pulled himself out of his jumbled thoughts to end the meeting and sent everyone off to their common rooms, complimenting their hard work as they left.

On the last Monday in November, Harry received a charmed parchment message from Sirius – the note was far messier than usual and seemed to have been scribbled in a hurry:

Has the post come in yet?

No, Harry replied back, wondering why his godfather was in such a rush to ask about the mail. Why?

Just…be prepared, Sirius wrote. Today's Prophet might come as a bit of a shock, especially to Draco.

Harry mutely slid his parchment over so Hermione could read it. Her eyes immediately flicked over to the blond seated halfway down the Slytherin table, then up to the ceiling as if searching for the post owls.

"What's he talking about?" she asked quietly. Harry merely shrugged.

"Dunno. Guess we'll just have to wait and see."

The post seemed to take an exceptionally long time to arrive that morning, even though it really was no later than usual. Hermione quickly paid the delivery owl and hastened to unroll the newspaper. They didn't have to look far to find the source of Sirius' caution, as it was scrawled across the front page in giant, attention-grabbing font:

LUCIUS MALFOY FOUND DEAD.

A/N: Thank snow day #2 for this chapter! So...what do we make of that one? Yikes - fifth year is really messing with them, isn't it? I'd love to know what you think, so please drop me a line!

JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Thanks for following/favoriting/reviewing/reading, & enjoy! :)