A/N: I seem to be in a Harry Potter mood lately, so the other stories are coming along slowly. But, at least you've got this!

Comrades With Amaranta

It seemed like today would be another uneventful day in Defense Against The Dark Arts class, but today was no exception. No one even bothered to take out their wands anymore, so no one budged when Proffesor Umbridge said, "Wands away." They even already had their copies of Defensive Magical Theory out on their desks. "Since we finished chapter one last lesson, I would like for you all to turn to page nineteen and proceed onto chapter two, 'Common Defensive Theories and Their Derivation.' There will be no need to talk."

Harry even saw a few kids mouth these words as they came out of Umbridge's wide mouth. He could only feel sympathy for his fellow classmates. Everyone fell into their drone state as they began to scribble on pieces of parchment, and Amaranta, as he noticed from a glance, was doodling and hadn't even bothered to open the book. He found her drawings very disturbing however, with squiggly figures beating and stepping on one poor, small squiggly. This girl was seriously messed up. However, in gaping at Amaranta he had noticed that hermoine had her hand up.

Proffesor Umbridge had seen it as well, and instead of addressing her in front of the whole class, she scrabbled over to her, faceing the confident girl, and rasped, "What is it, Miss Granger?"

"I've already read chapter two," she answered, not bothering to keep her voice down as Umbridge was doing.

"Then read chapter three."

"I've read that also. I've read the whole book."

Dolores stared at her, dumbfounded, before she straightened he back, which wasn't much of a difference with her height, and demanded, "Well, then, you should be able to tell me what Slinkhar says on counterjinxes in chapter fifteen."

"He says that counterjinxes are improperly named," Hermoine replied coolly. "He says that 'counterjinx' is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make them sound more acceptable."

Umbridge's eyebrows shot up, and she couldn't deny she was impressed. Hermoine really knew her stuff.

"But I disagree," continued Hermoine.

"You disagree?"

"Yes, Mr. Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, but I think they can be very useful when they're used defensively."

"Oh, you do now?" Proffesor Umbridge replied sugarly. "Well, I'm afraid it is Mr. Slinkhard's opinion and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger."

"But-"

"That is enough," Proffesor Umbridge cut her off. She returned to her flowery desk, her sweet mask removed. "Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor House."

The class revolted in a series of indignant shouts and yells.

"What for?" Harry demanded angrily.

"Don't you get involved!" Hermoine whispered.

"For disrupting my class with senseless interruptions," Professor Umbridge replied smoothly. "I am here to teach you children Ministry-approved methods, and that doesn't require students' opinions on a matter in which they understand little of. Your previous teachers may have allowed such foolery, but as none of them-with the exception of Proffesor Quirrell, who restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects-would have passed a Ministry inspection-"

"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher," Harry couldn't restrain his sarcasm. "There was just that little drawback of him having Lord Voldermort sticking out of the back of his head!"

The classroom fell silent after that, for what felt like an eternity to him. He wanted to say he regreted his actions, but that wouldn't be entirely true.

"I think another week's detention will help your character, Mr. Potter," Proffesor Umbridge replied smoothly.

However, her snide smirk was lost when Amaranta suddenly shot out of her chair and declared loudly, with the greatest poker face Harry had ever seen, "Proffesor Umbride, you are unpleasant to look at, resemble some unsightly creature, and you smell as pretty as you look."

This silence was even more heavy than Harry's before it was lightened by a series of restrained giggles. Dolores looked positively flabbergasted. "Miss Amaranta, did you just insult me?" she gasped in one breath.

"Yes, Proffesor, I did," Amaranta replied coolly, no emotion betraying her.

"Well, since you appear to enjoy detentions, you can join Mr. Potter!"

Before anyone knew it, class was over and everyone eagerly hurried out of the classroom, though many stole glances to Amaranta who calmly packed her bags. It seemed to Harry as if she wanted to be in detention with him.

As she walked out of the classroom, Harry paced quickly to catch up to her. "Hey, Amaranta, why-why did you purposefully get yourself into trouble?"

She stopped, and turned to him in the crowded hallway, stunning Harry with a soft and awkward smile. On her, it looked out of place, but it also seemed so refreshing compared to her unemotional stare. "I needed to vent some stress on that woman."

That evening, Harry and Amaranta wet through the usual detention. Amaranta did not furiously write the words as she had done before. She had an almost lifeless look to her. If she was so tired why had she landed herself in detention with him?

As they exited Proffesor Umbridge's office, Harry stared at the back of his hand. The cut had just barely healed over, and it was as red as a strawberry by now. Before he coud finish his self-pitying examination, he felt Amaranta's hand clasped around his, in a sort of up raised handshake. She looked at him with a face full of nothing but seriousness and whispered, as if in a dire secret, "We are Detention Comrades!"

He couldn't help it. She had said such a cheesy line with such seriousness, he didn't even care if Proffesor Umbridge heard him guffawing loudly. In fact, he'd prefer it if she heard, that'd set her right! Amaranta looked confused to what was so amusing about the matter. She had attempted a pact that went deeper than blood and got laughed in the face. Harry held his sides with one arm, and the other held himself up on her shoulder.

When he'd finally settled down, he wiped his tears. "Wow, thanks, Amaranta, I needed that. I've just been so wound up lately, it seems I've forgotten how to laugh. Yes, yes, Detention Comrades. At this rate, we'll spend every night together! Even if it is in silence most of the time."

At this, Amaranta flashed him a smile, but it was nothing like the one before, which appeared very stressed. This one seemed more natural, and from the heart. Though, once she realized it was there, she quickly hid it with a thin line for a mouth.

Maybe it was because that smile was such a rarity that Harry found himself thinking about it through out the next day. Even when he returned to the Gryffindor common room to talk to Hermoine and Ron, his only thought was her smile. Detention Comrades, huh?

"Harry, are you listening to me?" Hermoine brought him back down to Earth.

"Huh? No, what were you saying?"

"I was saying that we should learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves."

"What?" Ron groaned. "You want us to do extra work? We're behind on homework as it is! I've got extra Quidditch practices and Harry's been stuck in Umbridge's detentions! It's only the second week, for goblin's sake!"

"But this is more important than homework!" Hermoine pleaded.

The boy stared at her as if she had just sprouted another head.

"I didn't think anything was more important than homework!" Ron exclaimed.

"Don't be silly, of course there is!" Hermoine rolled her eyes. Harry began to see a certain glint in her eye that usually ended in her rambling on for hours. "It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said, for what's out there! It's about making sure we can defend ourselves!If we don't learn anything for a year-"

"It's not like we can do much ourselves," Ron argued. "I mean, sure, we can look jinxes up in the library and all, but-"

"No, I think we're past the point of just learning jinxes," said Hermoine. "We need a proper teacher who can actually show us the spells, instead of having us learn them from text."

"If you're talking about Lupin..." Harry began.

"No, no," Hermoine shook her head. "He's to busy with the order, anyway. The most we could see him is on weekends anyway, and that's not nearly enough."

"Who then?"

Hermoine let out an exaggerated sigh. "I'm talking about you, Harry."

"About me what?" Harry said after a long silence.

"I'm talking about you teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

Harry gazed at Hermoine with that look again. He turned to Ron, hoping for a stunned look from Ron, they usually shared when Hermoine presented one of her engenius plans. Ron didn't look stunned. He appeared to be thinking, a deep set frown on his face. "That's an idea."

"What's an idea?" Harry said.

"You," Ron reiterated. "Teaching us."

"But...I'm not a teacher, I can't-"

"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermoine told him.

"Me?" Harry replied. "No, i'm not, you've beaten me in every test-"

"Actually, I haven't," Hermoine tried her best to remain cool, but Harry saw an indignant spark in her eye. "You beat me in our third year. But test results don't matter! It's what you've done that matters! You've faced You-Know-Who many times, you killed the Basilisk in our second year, you've fended off god knows how many dementors-"

"But that was all luck!" Harry cried.

The two exchanged grins, and Harry was seriously going to break someone's head off if they didn't listen to him.

"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked Hermoine, leaning back in his chair at the round table in the shady looking bar called the Hog's Head. Why anyone would name a pub that, he didn't know. There were only a few shady characters in the pub, and a shifty-eyed bartender who glared at them occaisionally.

"Just a couple of people," Hermoine checked her watch. "They should be here around now, this is when-Oh, that must be them!"

The door of the pub swung open and a small crowd of people reluctantly walked in. First came Neville, then Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati anda Padma Patil with (Harry couldn't help but smile broadly) Cho Chang and one of her giggly girlfriends, and then Luna Lovegood in a dreamy stupor, then, not much to Harry's surprise, Amaranta, her dark prescence very fitting for such a bar, and after that followed Johnson, Colin Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchy, Hannah Abbot, Ginny and some blonde boy Harry recognized to be on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, Fred and George Weasley, with their pal, Lee Jordan, and a few of others he didn't recognize.

"A couple of people?" He shot Hermoine a nasty look. "A couple?"

"Well, the idea seemed quite popular," Hermoine averted his gaze. "Ron, would you pull up some more chairs, please?"

Fred walked up to the bartender and said," Hi, could we have...twenty-six butterbeers, please?"

The bartender glared at him, and then threw the dusty rag he wa using to wipe a glass until it only got filthier. He continued to pass up dusty mugs of butterbeers.

"Cough up, everyone," Fred turned to the crowd. "I don't have enough gold for all of these."

While everyone proceeded to scower their robes for coins, Harry turned on Hermoine. "What have you been telling these people?" he whispered hoarsely.

"They just want to hear what you've got to say," she replied, but as Harry continued to glare at her, she added, "Don't worry, I'll speak to them first."

Neville waved at Harry, but he couldn't even smile back. His throat felt dry as he watched Cho talk animatedly wih her strawberry-blonde friend, who only scowled. She obviously didn't want to be here. Harry also caught Amaranta eyeing Cho, but her face was blank and unemotional as ever, but he couldn't deny something else. She looked almost...calculating? He supposed she always looked like that, but today seemed to be menacing. As if she were plotting Cho's destruction. Harry gave a shudder at the thought. How could he ever find himself dazed at that girl's smile. Cho was so much easier to look at.

Everyone began to look at Harry expectantly. When it was Hermoine, instead who spoke up, they all turned their attention towards her. "Uh...erm...Hi. Well, y-you all know why you're here. Uhm..well, Harry had the idea-" He shot her a nasty glare. "I mean, I had the i-idea that it might be good of people want to really study Defense Against the Dark Arts-I mean really study it, not that rubbish Umbridge is making us read," she seemed to gain more confidence as the group gave their agreement to that last statement. "And...well, I thought it'd be good if we took matters into our own hands. And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, through practice, not theory-"

"You want to pass your Defense Against The Dark Arts O.W.L., too, I bet?" Michael Corner interjected.

"Of course, I do," Hermoine snapped. "But more than that...I want to know how to properly defend myself, b-because...because..." She took a deep breath and finished. "Because Lord Voldermort is back."

After that, the conversation began to go downhill. Everyone, not surprisingy excluding Amaranta, gasped and recoiled at the name. A few of the girls, including Cho's friend shrieked. The conversation took a drastic turn. Now people were wanting proof. Hermoine tried desperately to salvage the conversation, but it was already lost. Harry had to speak up, now, whether he liked it or not.

"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he repeated. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told everyone what happened last year, and if you don't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting my afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Zacharias said, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought his body back t Hogwarts. He didn't give us any details. He didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, and I think we'd all like to know-"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldermort kills someone, I can't help you," Harry said, his temper rising. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, then you might as well leave now."

But none of them moved.

"So...so it's like I was saying," Hermoine continued. "If you'd like to learn some defense-"

"Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?" a girl with a long plait down her back interrupted.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Yeah. . ."

"Is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes. . ."

"Blimey, Harry!" Lee exclaimed. "I never knew that!"

"And did you kill the Basilisk with that swordi n Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits told me. . ."

"Er-yeah, I did," Harry answered, a fluttering feeling rising in his stomach, but that was nothing compared to when Cho spoke up.

"And that's not to mention all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year-getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things. . ."

Everyone whispered, impressed.

"Look," he sighed, although flattered by Cho thinking he was so great. "I'm not trying to be modest or anything, but I had a lot of help with that stuff. . ."

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," Michael Corner said at once. "That was some awesome flying!"

"Yeah, well-"

"Yes, well," said Hermoine hastily, "moving on, the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

Everyone murmured in agreement.

"Well," Hermoine said, looking relieved. "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," Angelina put her hand up. "We need to make surethis doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"Nor ours," Cho stuck in.

"Nor ours," Zacharias Smith added.

After much argueing and planning everyone finally came to an agreement, but then came the need for a place for the meeting. This one was much harder to figure out than the timing. It had to be some place hidden, so that they weren't caught. Finally, they decided to figure it out later and Hermoine rummaged a long piece of parchment out of her bag, along with a quill and ink.

"I think everyone should write their name down," Hermoine said. "But I also think we all shouldn't go shouting what we're doing here. So if you sign, you're agreeing to not tell Umbridge, or anybody else."

Fred and George eagerly put their names down, along with Amaranta, but everyone else seemed less keen on signing.

"I-well, we're prefects," Ernie burst out. "And if this list was found...I mean-"

"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?" Hermoine sighed.

"No, no, of course not," Ernie said, looking slightly less anxious. "I-yes, of course I'll sign."

Nobody objected after Ernie, each one putting their signature down, even including Cho's blonde friend, though not without a nasty glare to Harry. Everyone filed out, except for Amaranta, who lingered. She opened her mouth, looking as if she wanted to say something, but then closed it and walked dejectedly out of the pub.