Isabella supposed the idea began when she first met Caterina Giorgio. She was curled up in a chair in one of the many nooks of the hallways. Her long dirty blonde air fell over her face and she was shaking with sobs. Isabella and Angelica, the only other people in the hallway, stopped and tried to comfort the eighth-year girl.
"My b-brother Silvano," the girl sobbed, burying her face in Angelica's shoulder. "He's d-d-dead. The re-revoltso k-killed him."
"Hush, now," Angelica soothed, rubbing the girl's back. "It's going to be all right."
"Was he a wizard?" Isabella asked gently.
"Y-yes. Silvano - he was so, so, g-good!" Caterina wailed. Isabella saw a piece of folded parchment on the coffee table. She picked it up and read a little.
It appeared that Silvano worked for the Italian Ministry of Magic as an intern with the Department of Magical Games and Sports. The cause of death was certainly an attack by a revoltso, the reason of the attack was unknown. The Aurors were pretty sure only one attacker had been present. It bothered Isabella that he was a recent graduate of the Academia. Surely he had known how to defend himself?
"Well, you'd be surprised how many Ministry officials can't cast a Shield Charm to save their life, which, you know, is what a Shield Charm is for." Fred Weasley had once told her.
Come to think of it, Isabella had seen very little practical magic done at school. When she had saved Sedgwick, no one but Isabella had used magic. When Sergio and Pandaros had been seconds away from dueling in the Main Hall, no one had actually cast a spell. At Hogwarts, if those had been Gryffindors and Slytherins, there would have been no formal taking of sides. It would have been a free for all. So the Academia graduates hadn't practiced magic as much as Hogwarts graduates. Did that mean that they were less prepared to defend themselves in a fight? Would Silvano Giorgio still be alive if he had been in the DA?
Cho Chang had once suggested the name Defense Association for the DA. What if that's what it had been, instead of the defiant secret kept by so many students for so long? What if they had had the support of the school? Not strictly a defense club, but a cross between defense and dueling, a place to learn how to fight and to protect.
If the revoltoso were hunting down family members, if the rivolta was up against the doors of the students' homes... How many students would want to learn? To train? To fight?
Isabella lay awake most of that night, those same thoughts swirling around her head. For someone who valued sleep above almost every other pastime, this was almost unheard of.
The next morning at breakfast Isabella tentatively asked, "Hey guys, how many of you would be interested in... in a sort of dueling cum defense club?"
"Awesome," Mariano said, spreading mustard on his slices of ham. "I'm in."
"Me too," Kurt and Deitmar said together.
"I don't know..." Angelica said warily. "Isn't that what Defense Against the Dark Arts class is about?"
"Yes, but the thing is, all we do is learn to fight the Dark Arts," Isabella said carefully. She had anticipated this question and thought out an answer last night as she lay awake. "But the revoltso aren't Dark. They're our countrymen, perhaps misguided..."
"Totally misguided," Mariano interrupted.
"But our countrymen nonetheless. We would not fight them as we fight the Dark wizards Professor Hadrian teaches us about. We would duel them in a fair fight." Isabella fell silent and looked around. "So... you would join?"
"Well, who would lead? Professor Hadrian?" Angelica asked.
"'Course not," Zala scoffed. "Isabella's the leader. Aren't you?"
"Well, we would have to vote..."
"Right, so Isabella's leader," Mariano interrupted yet again. "Now we just need a meeting time and place."
"And a sponsor, don't forget a sponsor!" Angelica insisted.
"A sponsor?" Isabella asked.
"You can't have a club, especially not a club where we would be using magic, without a teacher supervisor," Angelica explained.
"Well -" Isabella thought about this unexpected requirement. She could ask her uncle, but he was just the Arithmancy professor. No way was she going to ask Senior Mosca. But she was worried about asking Professor Hadrian. Would he think she was undermining him? Or perhaps he would try to take control. Because (and she didn't want to say this for fear of seeming conceited) Isabella really wanted to run the club. She missed teaching and the thought of helping others improve their spell work... of being a leader like Harry...
"I'll ask Professor Hadrian today," she announced.
After a Defense Against the Dark Arts class about the breeding habits of dementors, Isabella stuck around, pretending to tie her shoelace as she waited for the classroom to clear.
"Miss Petrroci? Everyone's gone. You can stop faking and stand up now," Professor Hadrian told her. Isabella stood, smiling a little guiltily. "What's going on?" he asked, sinking into the chair behind his desk. "Something you wanted to ask?"
"Well, sir, I had this idea for a club..." Isabella began. She told him all of her idea very quickly and then held her breath as he sat back and appeared to mull it over, stroking his neatly trimmed grey beard.
"Interesting," he mused. "I take it you think the students aren't getting enough magical practice on their own?"
"It's not that, sir. It's just-"
"Well, you're wrong then. They definitely aren't getting the training they need to go out there and fight!" he said forcefully, slamming his fist into the desk. "It kills me, just kills me, to know that as soon as our graduates leave the campus, they can be ambushed and butchered. I think this club is a wonderful idea, simply grand. When were you planning on meeting?"
"Oh. Um, saturday?" she suggested. "I don't know where..."
"Downstairs. Dining hall," Professor Hadrian decided. He stood and shook her hand firmly. "See you there, Generalitá."
Like the DA, word spread quickly. At Hogwarts, Hermione told Fred, George, Ginny, and Neville. Fred and George told Lee Jordan. Ginny told Luna, Michael Corner, and Zacharias Smith. Michael told Anthony and Terry; Luna told Isabella; Isabella told the other Ravenclaws. It spread and spread until twenty-six people came to its first meeting.
Only, there were way more than twenty-six people in the Dining Hall when a sleet-filled, blizzarding Saturday afternoon rolled around.
"Mariano, how many people did you invite?" Isabella hissed as another five or so came into the hall and sat at the tables, joining the forty or so already milling around the room.
"There's been a lot of interest," he smiled. Isabella glanced around, curiosity peaked by The Ancient Feud: Why the Greeks and the Italians Hate Each Other. Sure enough, almost everyone in the room was Italian. About a dozen or so looked Austrian or Swiss. There were almost no Greeks.
"Quiet down, now! Everyone take your seats!" Professor Hadrian shouted over the chatting of the students. They immediately went quiet and slipped into the remaining seats, fixing their attention on Professor Hadrian.
"Miss Petrroci?" the teacher said, looking expectantly at her. "Would you like to start us off?"
"Oh, um, sure," Isabella nodded, stepping forward. Everyone turned to her instead. "Hello everyone, thank you for coming. I know a lot of you are probably wondering why you would want to be down here rather than, say, outside enjoying the lovely weather." There was a chuckle from the group. "Well, I had the idea of starting a club where we would practice defensive and offensive spells. We all want to be trained because -"
Caterina was sitting in the front row looking up at Isabella attentively. Isabella met the older girl's eyes as she continued. "- Because the revoltoso are out there. They can kill, and they have killed. We need to be able to stand up against them, to protect ourselves and our families."
"So what's in it for us?" a fair boy stood up. He looked about fourteen or so, with long golden hair. "What about the ones of us who aren't Italian?"
"Why don't you -" Mariano began, but Isabella reached out an arm and he fell silent.
"It is an excellent question," Isabella said, inclining her head. "The fact is: you may not be Italian, but you go to school here. And that puts you in danger. Because I know -" she raised her voice so that it filled the whole room "- that just because we're kids doesn't mean we are going to be spared. In England, Hogwarts has been under that attack of the Dark Wizards as much as, if not more than, the English Ministry. And our Academia doesn't have the protections Hogwarts had. We're sitting ducks up here on the mountain."
"Who's going to teach?" someone else piped up. Everyone looked once again to Professor Hadrian, who held up his hands and took a step back.
"I'm just here to supervise," he said, shaking his head.
"Well, who's going to teach? You?" the boy asked, turning back toward Isabella. "Why should we take lessons from another student?"
"Don't think of it as teaching," Isabella said. "I just want to help you practice spells."
A hand shot into the air. Isabella saw little Sedgewick, his arm practically dislocated as he jumped up and down in his seat.
"Yes, Sedgwick?" she asked, smiling involuntarily.
"Is it true you're an animagus?" he asked, standing on his chair to get a better look at her. "I heard from my father - he works in the Ministry - that you're an animagus."
"Well, yes, it's true," Isabella said, a little disconcerted by the change in subject.
"Yeah, right!" a haughty looking girl laughed. "I'd like to see you prove it!" Isabella sighed and pulled her wand out of her pocket. She handed it to Angelica and then dropped to all fours.
Her body lengthened and grew more muscular. Golden hair covered her skin and sharp claws shot from her paws. She opened her mouth and revealed long, curving teeth. A lioness stood between Mariano and Angelica. Professor Hadrian looked impressed, but several of the students screamed. The haughty girl fell off her chair and the golden-haired boy looked petrified.
Isabella straightened, changing back into her human form as she did so. She straightened her clothes, which were magically enchanted to disappear and reappear when she transformed.
"Happy?" she asked cooly. "Or would you like me to do it again?" There was a huge burst of excited murmurs and several people began to shout questions toward her.
"Enough!" she yelled. They gradually quieted down and looked to her, a little awed. "I'm not here to teach you Transfiguration! I want to teach you to defend yourselves against the Dark Arts, to protect those you love, to -"
"And what experience do you have with that?" someone else asked. Isabella started slightly as she recognized one of the boys who shadowed Pandaros. "What can you teach us? You're just like the rest of us! What have you done that makes you qualified? You think you're so great, transforming into a cat, well that's useless unless we're going to be attacked by zebras!"
She wasn't sure if it was the insults, or the fact that she kept hearing Pandaros saying these things through the boy, but Isabella glared him into silence. Without saying a word, she unzipped her sweater and pulled it off. Pushing up the sleeve of her shirt, she revealed several long, red scars.
"Fenrir Greyback, a werewolf, gave me these last year when I battled him," Isabella told the hushed room. "There were nine Death Eaters, and we fought them off. The Order of the Phoenix, a society of adult witches and wizards dedicated to stopping You-Know-Who, and Dumbledore's Army, a kid's secret defense society started by Harry Potter.
"The year before that, a bunch of us kids broke into the English Ministry of Magic. We got into the very heart of the of building, where the most secret spells were kept. Eleven Death Eaters tried to stop us, and we fought them all. The Order of the Phoenix came at the end and finished the Death Eaters off.
"So don't tell me I don't know about fighting the Dark Arts, because I do," Isabella finished. "And I took the same lessons I want to teach you. Because if you don't take them, you'll be killed." Everyone was silent, staring at Isabella's scars. Angelica silently stepped forward and gave Isabella's wand back to her.
"La speranza è l'ultima a morire," Angelica said softly, but her voice echoed throughout the room so that even the people in the back heard her. "Hope is the last to die."
"Well, I think just to be sure that everyone agrees, we should elect a leader," Isabella said after a while. "That way it's fair."
"Okay, all in favor of Isabella being leader?" Mariano asked. Slowly, most of the hands in the room went up. "Right, Isabella's leader."
"And we ought to have a name," she continued. "Any suggestions?"
"The Defense and Dueling Club?" Sedgwick offered.
"Death to the Rivolta?" Kurt said.
"No," Isabella said forcefully. "Not that."
"Speranza?" Caterina asked quietly. Everyone was quiet and Isabella thought that, while it was a pretty name, the boys of the group would not like it very much.
"What are those Dark Wizards in Britain called?" Khalid asked.
"You mean Death Eaters?"
"Yeah. Well, the revoltoso call themselves the 'gloria-creatore', the glory-makers," Khalid continued enthusiastically. "So what if we make ourselves their opposite? What if we called ourselves the 'gloria-mangiatori'?"
"The glory-eaters?" Isabella asked, unsure. "I don't think we should be taking ideas from Death Eaters..." But everyone else was talking excitedly and nodding. "People, please, silence!" she tried to hush them, but no one was paying attention anymore.
"QUIET!" Professor Hadrian thundered. "Pay attention to Generalitá Leone!" Isabella blushed as a few students giggled, but they all turned to look at her.
"Um, thank you, professor," she stammered. "The thing is, I'm not really sure Gloria-Mangiatori is a proper name."
"What about Viva Italia?" Zala asked. "Because, face it, this is about Italy and protecting it. The revolotso are out to destroy Italy, well, we can be it's defenders."
"All in favor of Viva Italia?" Mariano asked. He and Angelica counted the number of raised hands. "That's a majority! Motion passed!"
Isabella was looking over the wide range of people gathered. The levels ranged from little Sedgwick to Caterina and her friends.
"I guess we can start right away," Isabella said. "Perhaps Expelliarmus, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic, but until I get the groups divided up -"
"Expelliarmus? That's so easy! Is that actually going to be any use?" the golden-haired boy interrupted. Isabella had to learn his name soon.
"Harry Potter told me he once used it against You-Know-Who," Isabella told him. "I think if Harry's used it, it can hardly be below you. Right, divide into pairs and practice."
Almost everyone broke off into groups of two, except for a large number of first and second years, who looked worried.
"Isabella, want to pair with me?" Zala asked.
"Actually, I think I'd better help that lot," she said. "I don't think goldie has a partner."
"Shocker," Zala sighed. "That's Flavius Antonio. Supreme pig-head."
"Have fun," Isabella offered, heading toward the younger students. "Right, I'm guessing you guys have never done this spell before?" They nodded sheepishly. "That's fine, that's why we're here. Sedgwick, would you come here please?" The boy bounced over to her, practically tripping on his own feet.
"Take a stance like this -" she demonstrated the stance, wand arm at the ready. "Don't look so tense, you'll fall right over in a proper fight. The key to dueling is to dodge and weave. It's a dance more than anything. That's right, nice and loose. Now, don't do anything... Expelliarmus!" Sedgwick's wand flew from his hand and Isabella caught it with practiced ease.
"Good. Now, everyone break into pairs. The spell is 'Expelliarmus'. Don't wave your wand too much, and for goodness sake enunciate!"
"Ex-expellimilus!" a tiny second-year girl squeaked, pointing her wand at her best friend, whose robes promptly caught on fire.
"Aguamenti," Isabella said calmly, summoning a jet of clear water to extinguish the girl's robes. "That, children, is why you need to speak clearly."
She stopped practice a few minutes before the hour was up and had everyone present sign their name on a piece of parchment so she could be sure who had attended.
"How often would you guys like to meet?" she asked the room in general as a line formed to sign the parchment. "Once a week?"
"More! Much more!" Mariano said.
"Well, how often then?"
"Maybe once a day," Zala suggested. Isabella fully expected protests to arise, but no one spoke up. Then again, with winter in the Alps almost in full gear, there would be no Quidditch and no time to go outside.
"Well, I'll think about it and let you know when the next meeting is," Isabella told them.