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"Oh honestly Harry of course she's a vampire," Hermione spoke exasperatedly, " the whole Order knows and it wasn't too hard to figure out with all those blood pops she was always sucking and the fact she likes to drop hints about it all the time."
Harry merely sat stunned; they were currently discussing the revelation of Carmilla's vampirism. "What the Oder knew, why didn't they tell us then?!"
Hermione sniffed imperiously, "I think they just forgot to ever mention it, it wasn't like anyone really made a secret of it, I can't believe it took me so long to notice."
"Blimey do you think that was what Lupin meant when he said she and Dumbledore were old friends?" Ron might not pay attention most of the time but he had his moments of brilliance.
"Of course, no wonder..." Hermione had a look of thoughtfulness on her face, no doubt she was already revaluating and re-examining everything about the foreign pair in a million different ways.
Harry found himself a bit unnerved by what they had just learned but it was tempered by the time he had spent in her company.
She didn't seem like a bad sort and Dumbledore trusted her – was old friends with even. Considering just how old Dumbledore was and Carmilla's immortality the meaning of 'old friends' took on a whole other meaning, just how long had they known each other?
Professor Lupin was a werewolf and Hagrid was half giant so he supposed befriending a vampire wasn't much of a stretch.
Besides she'd given him that 'genuine' vampire slaying kit as a joke so she couldn't be that bad.
Hell Sirius had raved about that book Laura and her had gotten him everytime he had gotten the chance, much to Mrs. Weasley's ire and Harry's eternal embarrassment.
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By the time carers advice consultations with their heads of house came around the seal Carmilla had placed to contain the fragment of Voldermort's soul within him had begun fluctuating wildly, cracks were starting to appear and while he had progressed at occlumency he was nowhere near the level of skill that would be required to block out Voldermort's influence, he knew something had to be done soon.
Dumbledore had been driven from the castle and the ministry was cracking down hard at Hogwarts.
Thankfully the D.A. had survived the attempted purge of its ranks by Umbridge when it was revealed they had been betrayed by one of their own.
They had barely managed to escape when a spell Laura had taught Hermione had alerted them when Marietta Edgecombe opened her traitorous mouth.
Hermione seemed to have taken a great deal of inspiration from Carmilla who she'd looked up to ever since meeting her.
Originally she had planned for much lighter security measures but at Sirius's advice on the matter and with Carmilla's influencing her and serving as inspiration she'd come up with some very complicated and thorough defences and precautionary measures.
Their precaution had payed off and they'd all escaped.
Now they were even more underground. With members in all four houses they were a sizeable movement and they had begun to actively undermine the ministry and Umbridge at Hogwarts.
Their subversion was met with resistance as was to be expected but it was working, even if slowly.
They'd even managed to get out information on what was happening inside Hogwarts to the general public via Rita Skeeter and pressure was growing for the ministry to do something.
Backed into a corner and facing opposition from all sides Umbridge's clung to her tenuous position fiercely with her brutal tactics but everyone knew that the situation couldn't remain as it was much longer.
Sooner or later something was going to happen.
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The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake, the satin-green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze: June had arrived, but to the fifth years this meant only one thing: Their O.W.L.s were upon them at last.
Their teachers were no longer setting them homework; lessons were devoted to reviewing those topics their teachers thought most likely to come up in the exams. The purposeful, feverish atmosphere drove nearly everything but the O.W.L.s from every fifth year's mind.
Meanwhile a flourishing black-market trade in aids to concentration, mental agility, and wakefulness had sprung up.
They'd been tempted to try some of them until they'd recognized dried doxy droppings among the offerings being passed off as powdered dragon claw.
Their cleaning over the summer it seemed had been good for something.
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