Hey everyone!
Thank you for all your feedback on the last chapter. I really appreciate it.
This might be the last update until the end of the semester (as I will be buried under my books until then).
Sending you a lot of love! Be kind to one another!
xx

wildest dreams
VOLUME II

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The next morning, Fred and George appeared in the Great Hall looking particularly grumpy. They both sat down slowly on the bench, wincing.

"Are you all right?" I asked them, frowning.

"Fantastic," they replied in a voice that oozed sarcasm.

I glared at them, waiting for an explanation, but they both started eating quietly. I exchanged a confused look with the girls, but we didn't insist.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was awful, as it usually was. Montague had recently started the habit to loudly chew gum while Umbridge talked – the more I sighed or shook my head, the louder he did it. Of course, Umbridge never thought of scolding him – but scolded me at the first occasion. It was little consolation but thinking about how we were going to organize Defense lessons right under her nose helped me sit through all of it.

George was still grumpy when we sat down at History of Magic, and even though he really did seem like he didn't want to talk about it, it was starting to really itch me.

We sat at the very back of the room, and about an hour through the lesson, I couldn't resist anymore. I tore a piece of parchment out of my notes, put it on the desk between us and scribbled down an 'are you all right?'. George nodded, clearly avoiding the subject. So, I wrote down 'you don't look like you are'.

Sighing softly, he finally took my quill – because of course, he never brought his – and wrote down 'fever fudge development gone wrong'. I frowned, looking at him. He only shrugged. I insisted, writing down 'what happened?', and he simply answered 'boils'.

I was even more confused. 'You have boils?', I wrote. He nodded. I frowned even more, scribbling 'I don't see any'. He rolled his eyes, and after a second of hesitation, pointing his crotch area. I felt my eyes widen.

"Down there?" I whispered.

He slowly nodded. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to hold back from bursting into laughter. Hiding my face with my hands, I felt him giving me a nudge on the shoulder. Trying to refrain my laughter, I glanced at him – he was shaking his head.

It was hard for me to get through the rest of Binns' class – and when it finally ended, and the ghost disappeared through the classroom's wall in front of us, I couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"Yeah, laugh all you want," said George.

"I'm sorry – I am, it's just – it's very unfortunate," I said, unable to stop laughing.

"I'm in a lot of pain, you know," he added dramatically as we left the room.

"Oh, poor Georgie. I would know how to make you feel better, but due to circumstances…"

He glared at me, and I laughed even louder. We met with Fred in the secret room – when I saw him, my laughter, which had died down during the walk there, started up again. Fred's face changed instantly, and he looked at George furiously.

"YOU TOLD HER?"

"Sorry," shrugged George.

"All right, all right, I'm done," I said, wiping tears from my eyes. "I'm done."

"I can't believe you told her," muttered Fred.

"Oh, get over yourself, Fred. Now, have you found a solution to your little… issue?"

I bit my lip, holding back a chuckle. Fred was glaring at me.

"No," he sighed. "I tried a few things, none of them worked."

"So, what?"

"Well I reckon we'll just have to wait until they disappear."

"How long will that take?" asked George.

"Dunno, but at least…"

They both turned to me then – me, who had tried to suppress my laughter during the whole conversation, and failed. I had put a hand over my mouth to muffle it, but it was no use. They glared at me as I started laughing again.

"I'm so sorry," I said miserably.

"All right, that's it – you're leaving."

"No, I'm going to stop laughing, I swear!"

"You're a terrible liar."

Fred finally pushed me out of the secret room. I shook my head, laughing, and headed for the Common Room to try and get some homework done. There I met Angelina, who was smiling brightly.

"Guess what," she said excitedly.

"Bloody hell, did Fred tell you?"

"No… Tell me what?"

"About his –"

I stopped, seeing the confusion on her face.

"Never mind. What happened?"

"I got it back."

"What?"

"The team. I got it back."

A second passed before I understood what she meant – the Quidditch team!

"You got it back?! YOU GOT IT BACK!"

I jumped in her arms, hugging her tightly.

"How did you do it?" I asked her as we sat down.

"I went to see McGonagall. You should have seen her face when I told her that Umbridge wanted to 'consider' it – I think she went straight to Dumbledore."

"That's brilliant, Angie! That was worthy of a Captain. Oliver would be proud."

She chuckled, and told me that they would have a practice that night – it was pouring rain, but she hoped it would clear out. The first match was in less than three weeks.

The practice didn't last for very long, and we all came back quickly in the castle, drenched to the very bone. After changing, we sat down around the fire, talked for a while, and went to bed early.

Angelina sat down at lunch the next day looking every bit excited, which was more than surprising – she had just gone to tell Ron and Harry that practice was cancelled that night, due to the weather.

"Harry told me we'll have our first Defense lesson tonight," she said quietly.

"Great!" said Alicia, smiling.

"So they found a place?" asked Lee.

"Apparently. He said to meet on the seventh floor, opposite the Barnabas the Barmy tapestry."

"Barna-who?" frowned Fred.

"You know, the knight who's being clubbed by trolls."

"Ah, yes, that bloke."

"What's on the seventh floor?" I asked. "There's nothing on seventh floor."

Angelina only shrugged.

"I guess we'll find out."

And we did find out quite quickly that night – a few minutes before eight, we all left the Common Room for the seventh floor. A few people had joined us along the way, people that had been at the meeting at the Hog's head. We reached the tapestry, looking around.

"Now, what?" asked a young Hufflepuff I didn't know.

"Just wait," said Luna Lovegood mysteriously.

"Look!" said Cho Chang, pointing a wooden door that had appeared out of nowhere on the wall.

Fred frowned.

"I feel like I've been here before."

"Just open the door," said a voice, and Luna pushed it open.

What was behind the door took my breath away – it was a huge room, with dozen of bookshelves, cushions and strange objects. A few people were already there, including Harry. It was lit by torches, and looked every bit perfect for our purpose. I smiled excitedly.

"Merlin's beard," muttered Alicia behind me.

We all sat down on the cushions, and once everyone was there, Harry locked the door.

"Well," he started. "This is the place we've found for practices, and you've – er – obviously found it okay –"

"It's fantastic!" said Cho Chang.

"It's bizarre," said Fred, who was looking around confused. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then…"

I frowned at him.

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" asked Dean Thomas, pointing a bunch of curious-looking objects.

"Dark Detectors. Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled…"

He turned back to us.

"Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and – er – What, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," she said.

"Harry's leader," replied Cho Chang.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly. It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So – everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?"

I raised my hand – as did everyone else.

"Er – right, thanks. And – what, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name. It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

I nodded – it was always a good idea to have a name.

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina.

"I second," I said, nodding.

"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?"

Me and Angelina both shoved Fred at the same time.

"I was thinking more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association? The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," said Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry worst fear, isn't it?"

Everybody agreed to Ginny's idea – and Hermione made if official, writing the name on the parchment everyone had signed, then pinning it on the wall.

"Right, shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful –"

"Oh, please," interrupted by best mate Zacharias Smith. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"Well it certainly would help shut that bloody annoying mouth of yours," I muttered behind my teeth.

George shot me a look, smirking. I had had some difficulties with the Hufflepuff during our first meeting at the Hog's Head – a big prat he was. I had nearly hexed him on our way back.

"I've used it against him," said Harry. "It saved my life last June. But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave."

I proudly looked at Harry, satisfied of the look on Smith's face. He didn't move – I wish he had, though.

"Okay. I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

I partnered with Lee, as Angelina went with Alicia, leaving the twins as a duo. As everyone started to practice, I stood in front of Lee, wand at the ready.

"You want to go first?" I suggested.

"Nah. Ladies first" he grinned, and I rolled my eyes.

"All right. Expelliarmus!"

Lee's laughter died in his throat as his wand flew out of his hand, landing right next to my shoes. I gave him a wide grin, handing it back to him.

"Not bad, not bad. Now, my turn. Expelliarmus!"

I had no chance – my wand slid from my fingers into the air, landing on the opposite side of the room.

"Strong," I said, smiling.

He raised his hand, and I gave him a high-five before crossing the room to go and get it. We practiced like that for an hour – our wands had landed everywhere possible in the room – I had succeeded in grabbing Lee's in my hand, but also at sending it on the very top of a high bookshelf – it had taken an Accio to get it back.

I could have gone on for another hour – we were all having a lot of fun. But we couldn't get past the curfew, and soon we were on our way back to the Common Room. I couldn't wait for the next Wednesday.

October went by between Quidditch practices and D.A. meetings – soon the wind grew colder, and the trees lost their leaves. The first match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was arriving fast, and a week before it, Angelina insisted that the team had daily practices to get ready. The special Galleon that Hermione had given us to inform us of meetings remained untouched during that time, as the Gryffindor team relentlessly went to the Pitch every night, whether it rained or not, whether the wind blew strong or not.

November 2nd finally came – fortunately, the weather was good, despite it being bitterly cold. We all dressed warmly and went downstairs to get breakfast. Ron looked like he was going to faint. I tried to encourage him, but I wasn't sure he heard me. Me and Lee accompanied Fred, George, Angelina and Alicia to the stadium. There was a thin layer of frost on the grass, and it was much colder than I expected. When we got to the changing rooms, we wished everyone good luck.

"You better win," I smiled. "It's my birthday tomorrow, and it would be the best gift you could give me."

"It's your birthday tomorrow?!" exclaimed George dramatically, putting a hand over his mouth.

I ruffled his hair, kissing him on the cheek.

"Yes, and you better have a nice gift for me," I joked.

"I thought winning the match would be your gift" smiled Angelina.

"Well, yes, but you know what they say… Diamonds are a girl's best friend."

Everyone chuckled.

"You've got work to do, mate," snickered Lee.

"I think we should break up," said George, looking at me seriously.

I gave him a nudge, and in exchange he grabbed me by the waist and put his lips on mine for a more than great kiss.

"Angelina, d'you reckon we can cancel the match? I think I'm going to be sick," muttered Fred.

"You sure it's not one of those Puking Pastiles of yours?"

I shook my head, and saw a smile on Fred's face.

"I'll see you after the match," whispered George in my ear, still holding me by my waist.

"Good luck, champion," I told him.

Then it was just me and Lee, and soon he too had to leave for the stand where he was doing the commentary. I joined the red and gold crowd, spotting a place next to Ginny.

"Hey, Gin," I smiled.

"Hey, Adds. How's everyone?"

"Good, I think. Except for Ron."

"Yeah, I saw him in the Great Hall. He looked like he was going to faint."

"I know," I groaned. "Let's just hope Angelina's pep talk helped him."

"Yeah…"

Her word trailed off, as she seemed distracted by something – I looked at the direction she was staring at – the Slytherin supporters. They were singing something, and holding signs.

"What are they saying?" I asked.

"I'm not sure – wait."

We listened more attentively – and soon the words became clear.

"Those gigantic prats!" I exclaimed.

"That doesn't sound good for Ron," said Ginny, looking worried.

We didn't have time to discuss it any longer, as both teams entered the Pitch.

"Captains shake hands," called Mrs Hooch.

Angelina and Montague, my best mate, did so – I was too far to see their expressions, but everyone could feel the tension. The Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry was dangerous at times, but their matches against each other were always the best.

The game soon started, with Angelina soon getting her hands on the Quaffle.

"And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle," said Lee through his microphone, "what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me –"

"JORDAN!"

"Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest –"

I shook my head, smiling, glancing at Angelina who looked quite annoyed.

" – dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger – close call, Alicia – and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

Lee paused to listen to the Slytherins' song. Weasley cannot save a thing; he cannot block a single ring; that's why Slytherins all sing: Weasley is our King. I gritted my teeth, exchanging an annoyed look with Ginny – I just hoped Ron couldn't hear them. Luckily, the match was more than captivating, otherwise I would have just crossed the stadium to shut them up one at a time.

The match wasn't going well – I could barely concentrate on Lee's commentary with the Slytherins blurting out their song – and Slytherins kept scoring. Then Harry seemed to be chasing after the Snitch, finally, and I watched him keenly, trying to ignore that awful song, and just when his hand rounded around the golden ball – we all erupted in cheering – a Bludger came out of nowhere and knocked him off his broom.

The crowd gasped – but Harry didn't seem hurt, and soon was back on his feet.

"WE WON! WE WON!"

Jumping and cheering, I hugged Ginny and quickly ran down the stands to get to the team to congratulate them – it was a habit I had – Mrs Hooch had stopped trying to stop me in my third year.

"YOU WON!" I screamed as I reached the grass, jumping into George's arms.

"Happy birthday," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

I couldn't help it – I kissed him. Then I went to hug Fred, and everyone else – I was going to congratulate Katie when I heard a sneering voice – Malfoy.

"What is he blabbering on about?" I asked Angelina.

"Talk about sour grapes," she simply said.

But Malfoy didn't hear us.

" – we couldn't fit in useless loser either – for his father, you know –"

The mood had suddenly shifted, as Fred and George turned to him, grave looks on their faces.

"Leave it," quickly said Angelina, grabbing Fred's arm, which he didn't seem to notice. "Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little –"

" – but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" continued Malfoy. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay –"

It was my turn to grab George's arm, but it was too late. Fortunately, Harry got a hold of him while Angelina, Alicia and Katie held back Fred. I could feel my blood boil in my veins.

"Or perhaps, you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it –"

Suddenly, both George and Harry sprint forward, clearly heading for Malfoy who had backed away.

"GEORGE, NO!" I yelled after him.

He was already gone, however – I leaned forward, with every intention of following him, when I heard a sly laugh right next to me. I glared at the rest of the Slytherin team, who had been watching the altercation. Montague was leading them – of course he was.

"Did you like our song, Harlowe? I thought you might like it. Since you're sharing saliva with Weasley and all – and haven't you been to their 'house', too?"

"Shut your bloody mouth, Montague."

"Addy, don't listen to him," said Alicia behind me.

But Montague wasn't done.

"But how could anybody want you, I wonder. Sure, you're pretty, for a Mudblood. But even your parents didn't want you, so –"

My blood froze in my veins.

"What did you say?"

"I said even your parents didn't want you – isn't that right? Poor little baby Harlowe. All alone in the cold, made an orphan by parents that were disgusted by the idea of having you in their –"

I didn't hesitate, I didn't think. Before I could I was already heading straight for Montague. I knew he was bigger than me, and that I had absolutely no chance fighting him – but I didn't care. I only saw red.

I hit him as hard as I could. I heard a loud crack as my fingers came into contact with his nose – then a sharp pain went through my hand, but I didn't care. He had taken a few steps back, stunned by my punch.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" I spat out.

Blood started to run down his nose – his teammates looked at him, then at me, then back at him. I heard people behind me, but no one came to stop or help me. The look on Montague's face changed then – the very look of a wounded pride. It was then his turn to launch himself at me – I inhaled sharply, and prepared for the blow. His incredibly big fist hit my right eye with such force than I stumbled and fell down, my body hitting the cold grass, a cry of pain escaping my throat.

"ADDY!" cried out a voice.

Was it Alicia? I couldn't be sure.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" I heard a voice say.

"Addy, are you all right?"

I nodded, as I straightened myself up. I winced at the pain in my forehead. I could feel blood running down my face – it felt warm. I saw Montague and his friends being led away by Mrs Hooch a few meters away.

"Are you sure?"

It was Alicia, who was kneeling down beside me, holding me up with my arm.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, getting myself back to my feet.

"You're bleeding. You need to go to the Infirmary."

I slowly nodded, knowing she was right – but another hand grabbed my arm.

"You, too, Miss Harlowe! Straight to your Head of House, now!"

"What about him?!" I protested, pointing Montague who now was trying to stop his nose from bleeding. "He hit me too!"

"I don't care who hit who, Miss Harlowe, to your Head of House, now, and I will not repeat it!"

I clenched my jaw and glanced at Alicia.

"I'll see you later."

"Let me walk with you, Addy, just in case."

I let her – we both silently walked to the castle. I could see Harry and George ahead, but I was too angry to call out to them. Bloody git. I knew I had made a mistake by hitting him first – but bloody hell, that had felt good. Had I broken his nose? It didn't even matter if I didn't – I had hurt him, him and his bloody pride – that seemed to soothe the sharp pain in my forehead.

We were nearly at McGonagall's office when Harry and George noticed we were walking behind them. George's eyes widened at my sight.

"What the –"

"Montague" I said. "He –"

But I couldn't finish – McGonagall appeared in the corridor, still wearing her Gryffindor scarf.

"In!" she said sharply, her lips more tightly pecked than I had ever seen.

I squeezed Alicia's hand, who gave me a faint smile, and followed Harry and George in McGonagall's office.

"Well?" she started, looking livid. "I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition. Two unto one! Explain yourselves!"

"Malfoy provoked us."

"Provoked you?" she repeated, her fist hitting her desk brutally. "He'd just lost, hadn't he, of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth he can have said that justified what you two –"

"He insulted my parents," said George. "And Harry's mother."

"But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you two decided to give an exhibition of Muggle dueling, did you? And you, miss Harlowe, what could possibly justify your behavior?"

I stared down at the floor.

"The same thing, Professor. He provoked me. Insul-"

"And you thought hitting him was the solution to that? He is twice bigger than you, he could've hurt you a lot more than he did. Have you three any idea what you've –"

"Hem, hem."

For the second time that day, my blood froze in my veins. I turned to the doorway – there she was, in bright, glorious pink.

"May I help, Professor McGonagall?" she asked, smiling.

"Help?" repeated McGonagall. "What do you mean, 'help'?"

"Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority."

McGonagall's face turned from livid to bright red, and she turned away from Umbridge, clearly trying to ignore her.

"You thought wrong. Now, you three had better listen closely. I do not care what provocation Malfoy or Montague offered you, I do not care if they insulted every family member you possess, your behavior was disgusting and I am giving each of you a week's worth of detention! Do not look at me like that, Potter, you deserve it! And if either of you ever –"

"Hem, hem."

The pain in my eyebrow was sharper than ever – fortunately, what was going on offered a slight distraction.

"Yes?"

"I think they deserve rather more than detentions."

"But unfortunately, it is what I think that counts, as they in my House, Dolores."

"Well, actually, Minerva, I think you'll find that what I think does count. Now, where is it? Cornelius just sent it. I mean.. the Minister just sent it… Ah yes."

Umbridge pulled a piece of parchment out of her bag. We all stared at her ominously.

"Hem, hem… 'Educational Decree Number Twenty-five…'"

"Not another one!" cried out McGonagall in exasperation.

I would have laughed if I didn't feel so awful.

"Well, yes. As a matter of fact, Minerva, it was you who made me see that we needed a further amendement… You remember how you overrode me, when I was unwilling to allow the Gryffindor Quidditch team to re-form? How you took the case to Dumbledore, who insisted that the team be allowed to play?"

I glanced at McGonagall – I knew it had all been because of her.

"Well, now, I couldn't have that," continued Umbridge. "I contacted the Minister at once, and he quite agreed with me that the High Inquisitator has to have the power to strip…"

I lost track of her speech quickly – my head was buzzing with pain. But then a few words caught my attention, brutally bringing me back to reality.

"I really think I will have to ban these two from playing Quidditch ever again."

I stared at Umbridge.

"Ban us?" repeated Harry. "From playing… ever again?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick. You and Mr. Weasley here. And I think, to be safe, this young man's twin ought to be stopped too – if his teammates had not restrained him, I feel sure he would have attacked young Mr. Malfoy as well."

"You're going to punish him for something he could have done?!" I blurted out, outraged. "That's not fair!"

"And of course, miss Harlowe, you will be banned from the Quidditch Pitch for the reminder of the year. Since I can't forbid you to play, I think one night per week of detention with me until the end of the semester ought to do."

"But –"

"Or two nights per week would be more preferable, perhaps?"

My plea suddenly felt bitter in my throat.

"I will want their broomsticks confiscated, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there is no infringement of my ban. But I am not unreasonable, Professor McGonagall. The rest of them can continue playing, I saw no signs of violence from any of them. Well… good afternoon to you."

The silence that followed her departure from the office lasted a while. Snow had started to fall quietly outside. I almost didn't feel the pain anymore.