A/N: I apologize deeply for the lack of updates, but I've started work full time now, and I really don't have the time to write very much anymore. I've been doing my best, and I do intend to keep writing as much as possible. I'll continue to update as often as I can manage, I just can't guarantee it will be in regular intervals.

I have a hard time filling in the gaps with this story. I have a basic timeline—there are certain events that I am positive I am going to include, and chapters that are already half-written for later on. The problem is filling in the stuff in-between what I am already sure about. So it can get a little difficult. I hope you can understand.

Of course, as long as people are reading I will continue to write.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the Harry Potter series, belong to JK Rowling.

--- CHAPTER EIGHT ---

Partners

Juliet Christie

Fred Weasley.

Juliet Christie.

Fred Weasley and Juliet Christie.

Fred and Juliet.

When the bloody hell did it become that simple?

It seems the relationship ultimately did come down to being my decision. Even more shocking…I had done something about it.

So it was official. Fred and I were publicly being referred to as a couple. It felt kind of bizarre, to be perfectly frank.

I was actually surprised at how each one of my friends managed to remain calm and keep the mocking down to a minimum when they found out. I had expected at least a few jokes at my expense—especially from George and Lee—but all of them were keeping pretty tight-lipped about the situation. Although, I couldn't deny they all seemed much brighter around me lately. I think they reckoned this was a definite step forward for me. I think they wanted to be sure not to jinx it.

…I had to admit, I was feeling pretty good about it, too.

Things had grown undeniably awkward between Fred and me over the last few days. It wasn't a bad awkward, by any means, but more an uncertain awkward. Neither of us knew exactly how we were supposed to act around each other as a couple. We had never been anything more than best mates (although there were periods where we teetered on the edge of being something more), and we kept fumbling over ourselves, trying to fit into a groove that worked for us perfectly.

I was a little irked that the transition wasn't as flawless as I had hoped…but I suppose nothing really works out the way it does in romantic novels. Pity, because everything would be so much easier if that's the way the world operated.

To make a long, tediously boring, story short…I was comfortable admitting to myself that I was actually feeling happy for once. Sure, my life was still a jumbled mess because of Cedric, my mother, and the ever-growing tension in the school (and the wizarding world in general), but because of Fred…things were just a little bit brighter. And in my world, that little bit went a long way.

And trust me, I definitely needed it…because the world wasn't too friendly at the moment.

Professor Umbridge had somehow managed to extend her ranking to High Inquisitor of the school. Stupid toad. Basically, she invented a position within the castle that gave her powers that ordinary teachers didn't have. Unfortunately for her (and very fortunate for the rest of us), Dumbledore was still the reigning headmaster, and that meant that ultimately he was still in control of Hogwarts. I only hoped it would stay that way.

It seemed Dolores Umbridge was beginning to irritate other members of the student body as well…

Hermione had approached the group of us one night after Quidditch practice to suggest some sort of student Defence Against the Dark Arts study group. The name wasn't to be taken literally. What she was actually talking about was learning proper defensive spells from someone who was willing to teach us. She mentioned that Harry was interested in teaching us some legitimate lessons in defensive magic. I was immediately intrigued, and so were the others. Fred, George, Lee, Angelina, Katie and myself all agreed to meet with them on Saturday—Hogsmeade weekend.

It was a chilly October day when we set out for Hogsmeade. In fact, it was dreadfully cold outside. We had all bundled ourselves tightly to ensure we didn't freeze. Lee, Fred, George and I were all going together. Katie and Angelina were going to meet up with us before we headed for the Hog's Head. It seemed Angelina was doing a good job at mending the broken friendship between the lot of us. Katie seemed just as willing as I was to leave the past behind. With Alicia currently on the outskirts, no one was really adamant on straining our relationships any further than was necessary.

Katie was feeling a little down. She had been writing back and forth to Ethan and was supposed to meet up with him at Hogsmeade. Unfortunately for her, an owl had arrived in the morning letting her know he wasn't going to make it. Something to do with work. Katie wasn't impressed.

Thus, Angelina had volunteered to cheer her up—mostly so I didn't have to. She really was trying to make things up to me, it seemed.

Hey, I wasn't going to argue.

When the three of us made it down to the entrance hall, the boys were waiting there—impatiently, as always. The looks on George and Lee's faces were ones of exasperation. Fred, on the other hand, wore a brilliant smile that had me smirking and rushing forward.

"Come on now, we'd better get a move on," Lee was saying. "It's only going to get windier out there."

Katie and Angelina immediately said their goodbyes, and departed before the rest of us. They wanted to get some girly shopping out of the way before we had to meet the others at the Hog's Head.

"Well don't you look adorable," Fred pointed out, grinning at me as I joined their group. He tugged on the strings of my knit hat to illustrate his point.

I bit my lip in an attempt to stifle the giddiness that arose within me at his comment.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Weasley," I teased.

"Good thing I'm exactly where I want to be, then," Fred muttered, bending low so only I could hear him. I grinned.

"We'd better hurry if we've got to meet the others," George said, nodding toward the door.

The rest of us agreed, and Fred reached out and took my hand in his. It was a simple gesture, but it shocked me a little nonetheless. My breathing hitched a bit, and I jerked my head reflexively to stare up at him.

As though sensing my momentary distraction, he looked down at me at the same time. A wide grin was plastered on his face. I found his smile contagious. Immediately a bright smile lit up my face as well, and I squeezed Fred's hand tighter.

He tugged me toward him effortlessly, stooping to catch my lips in a chaste kiss. I found myself grinning like an absolute moron.

"Could you please cut it out," George said huffily.

I rolled my eyes to myself. I knew it was going to be near impossible getting lost in any sort of moment with Fred. Every time we got the chance, George and Lee were never far behind.

Fred smirked almost evilly at his brother and squeezed my hand again.

"I would have thought you'd be in a better mood," he said. "You did win your stupid bet, after all."

"That's right," I said suddenly, "George did win his bet. Doesn't that mean you owe me some of your winnings? I thought that was part of the deal."

"You don't get anything if there's going to be more of those public displays of affection," he said dismissively.

"Ahh, well," Fred said with a shrug.

"I guess I can do without a few extra Galleons," I said, winking at Fred.

"Me too," Fred agreed.

George rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please."

Lee simply laughed.

-------

Oddly enough, Hogsmeade wasn't as full of its usual excitement and bustle. Students were running around with big smiles on their faces, sure, but I couldn't help but feel like there was a certain tension to the atmosphere of the outside world. It had been so long since I had been anywhere that wasn't the castle or Headquarters. Maybe I was just imagining things…but there definitely seemed to be a bit of wariness looming overhead.

The boys and I made one stop, and one stop only—to Zonko's Joke Shop, of course. Nothing had changed there. Fred, George, and Lee couldn't get enough of Zonko's—even despite the fact that they were well on their way to creating their very own joke shop. I swear they must have purchased every product available from there already, but that didn't stop them from ogling some of the more expensive items, and trying out a few of their old favourites.

"Why is it we continue to come here?" I asked, voicing my thoughts.

"Why not?" George asked. "This place is brilliant."

"Where do you think we get our inspiration?" Fred pointed out.

"I know that," I said. "But haven't you already learned all you can from this place?"

"They haven't come out with a new product in ages," Lee agreed, eyeing a sign that read New and Improved Exploding Underwear. "How can something be both new and improved?" he mused.

"No," George said simply, ignoring Lee's comment. "As you know, we're hoping to be getting our own shop sooner rather than later, and we need all the help we can get with ideas on how to set it up." He cast his eyes around the store. "What do you think, Fred, should we take a sketch of the place's layout?"

I shook my head.

"No," I disagreed. "Your shop shouldn't be set up like this one."

The boys turned to me curiously.

"No?" Fred asked.

I pointed to the cash register situated by the window of the store.

"That should be in the middle of the store—where you can see everyone and everyone can see you. Zonko's isn't making good use of their front window. There should be a display case out front."

They turned to look, and nodded in agreement.

"And the shelves—you could have them higher than that—maybe built in mismatched shapes and sizes. Give it a sort of—chaos and excitement feel," I said.

The boys stared around at the shop thoughtfully.

"And you'd definitely need a colour scheme," I continued with a shrug. "I think Weasley's Wizard Wheezes just screams fluorescents. Don't you think?"

Fred turned and smirked at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"It sounds like you've been giving this some serious thought," he said.

I shook my head.

"Nah, not at all," I disagreed. "It's just good sense. I've always known Zonko's was missing something—personality. You two definitely have that. I reckon you could tear this place to shreds."

"We don't condone violence," George said, grinning evilly. "We'll just call it friendly competition."

"Hold on a minute," Fred said suddenly, "I've just thought up a brilliant idea."

George, Lee and I looked at him expectantly.

"So far, George and I have been dealing with our own marketing and advertising schemes," he said, looking to George for confirmation. George nodded. "But that's bound to start getting difficult once we really get our start. We're going to need loads of help." He paused and looked at me meaningfully. "I think you should help us."

I quirked my eyebrow at him.

"That's your brilliant idea?" I asked sceptically. "That's hardly an ingenious plan. I've been helping you since day one. I assumed it would always be that way."

Fred clapped me on the shoulder.

"I'm not talking about regular old assistance," he said. "I'm suggesting that you be part of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Like a partner."

He looked back over at George again to gain his approval.

George grinned.

"George and I have done a pretty good job at getting everything started so far, but we're going to need someone to get us on our feet," he continued. "Someone with a good eye for design—George and I are fair at it, but Mum's always saying a woman's touch is the best."

Fred's eyes danced with excitement, and he paused, looking at me expectantly. I bit down on my lip and frowned, understanding dawning on me.

"Uhhh…" I said stupidly.

"What?" Fred asked. "You don't think it's a good idea?" His smile faltered a little, but he turned it into a teasing grin. "We could always hire someone to help us out, but I think it'd work out better if it was someone we already got on well with."

Lee smirked. "And we already know Fred gets on well with you."

George snorted. Fred's grin broadened again.

I shook my head uncertainly.

"I'm not sure I'd be good at that," I said honestly, frowning at the thought.

"What are you talking about?" Fred asked.

"I just don't think it's my thing," I said, crinkling my nose up.

"Rubbish," George said.

"It is rubbish. Lee?" Fred asked.

"Utter rubbish," Lee agreed with a shrug. "You do know what you're doing when it comes to that sort of thing."

"How on earth do you reckon I know what I'm doing?" I asked incredulously. "I've never done anything of the sort before!"

"You've got a knack for it," Fred answered.

"You're being incredibly vague," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"You decorated your bedroom," George said. "We've seen that—haven't we?"

I snorted.

"Yeah," I said sarcastically, "because that qualifies me."

"And you're a decent artist, too," Fred agreed. "I've seen your notes. You're always messing around with drawings."

I rolled my eyes.

"Hardly the same."

"Still," Fred persisted. "We're not asking you to make all of the decisions for us. I'm just saying, we could use a hand in that area. Three heads are better than one."

"And once we get our shop, we're going to need someone to give us the right personality," George mimicked. His eyes had lit up now too.

"Where do I fit in to all of this?" Lee asked, sounding mildly offended that he wasn't included.

"We'll always need a stagehand," George suggested. "Someone to use in demonstrations."

"No thank you," Lee said, sounding just a tad miffed. "I'll be fine on my own, thanks."

George grinned.

"Fred's only asking because he knows Jules hasn't got any plans for her career," he explained, winking at me. "We all know you're destined to become a professional blabber-mouth. The last place you'll want to be is co-owning a joke shop."

Lee conceded.

"I'm not co-owning anything," I said. "Whether or not I do what you're suggesting, the store will always be yours."

Fred waved his hands as if the matter were trivial.

"Doesn't matter," he said dismissively. "It was just an idea."

"A good idea," George corrected.

I pursed my lips. I had never really given much thought to what I was going to do with my future. The truth is, I didn't really have any idea what I wanted to do with my life. I had always put it off for later—for a time when the matter was more pressing. It hadn't occurred to me that that time was coming now. That was a little scary.

But working with Fred and George? That didn't sound scary. Not at all. In fact, it sounded like fun.

"Just think about it," Fred said with a grin, slipping his arm around my shoulders. "If it's a yes, we'd be happy to have you on board."

"Okay," I agreed, nodding. "I'll give it some thought."

"Good," Fred said, sounding satisfied.

He pulled me toward him and planted a kiss on my forehead.

I smiled up at him. I would have to add it to my list of things to think about.

-------

Fred, George, Lee and I were the last of the rather sizeable group to make our way into the Hog's Head. Frankly, I was surprised at how many people had showed up. With all of the rumours flying around Hogwarts, I would have been shocked to see three or four individuals who thought Harry credible enough to teach a defence lesson.

It seemed there were quite a few who were on his side—or at least were willing to give him a fighting chance at defending his position. I had a feeling many of the students wanted to hear his side of the story more than they wanted to learn defensive spells.

The Hog's Head was an utterly disgusting place. I was actually surprised that Hermione had opted to have the meeting here instead of someplace—any place—else. But I suppose we weren't likely to be overheard in the dank old bar. The room was completely empty aside from Harry, Hermione and Ron. The only other lingerers were two dark, hooded figures hunched over in the back corner. We definitely weren't at risk of being heard by any other students.

"Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?" Hermione was asking when Fred led us into the dusty old bar. She, Ron, and Harry were standing awkwardly at the head of the room, obviously awaiting the group's arrival.

One glance at Harry told me he was flabbergasted. I found that surprising. Hermione had made it sound as though this had been Harry's idea. The look on his face told me otherwise. I wondered idly how much Hermione had told him as Fred released my hand and headed for the bar. The man standing there looked positively gobsmacked as he cleaned a filthy glass with an equally filthy dishrag, staring around in bewilderment at all of us.

"Hi," Fred said to the man, doing a quick head-count, "could we have…twenty-six Butterbeers, please?"

The old bloke eyed Fred with a look mixed between outrage and annoyance—as if Fred had been interrupting something hugely important. I concealed a chuckle. I would have thought he'd be thankful to have a few guests in his bar. I doubted he got much traffic.

It took the man several minutes to retrieve enough dusty bottles of Butterbeer to satisfy everyone, but soon enough the twins were dishing them out to everyone in the room.

"Cheers," Fred said as he handed them out. "Cough up, everyone. I haven't got enough gold for all of these…"

Chattering picked up as everyone dug deep into their pockets to fish out coins for Fred. I tried to pass him my share, but he stopped me, winking.

"Yours is on me, love," he said.

I rolled my eyes at his cheesy attempt at chivalry, but complied, unable to stop myself from smiling at him. I had a feeling he took pride in making the blush creep onto my cheeks.

"There you lot are!"

I turned to see Angelina and Katie pushing their way through the bodies surrounding us. They were both flushed from the cold, but grinning. Katie looked substantially happier than she had when we had left the castle. I was glad to see the day wasn't a total loss, despite Ethan being unable to meet up with her.

The girls both handed Fred a few coins for their drinks and he paid the bartender. The chatter in the room only increased and Hermione had to raise her voice over the talking in order to make herself heard.

"Umm, okay—er," she said awkwardly. "Could everyone er—gather around? We're going to get started."

Everyone took their seats in twos and threes. People were wearing looks ranging from excitement to curiosity, or in the case of Luna Lovegood, pure dazed wonder. A couple of students even looked angry to be there…in particular a Hufflepuff boy I recognized from Quidditch.

Fred, Lee, George, Katie, Angelina and I took our seats together near Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were facing us, waiting rather patiently. Fred very deliberately moved his chair close to mine and placed his arm across the back of my seat, toying with the ends of my hair. I had a feeling he enjoyed flaunting our couple status to onlookers. The thought made me smirk a little at his antics.

It wasn't until everyone had pulled up a chair that the chatter died down, and all attention turned toward a rather nervous-looking Harry.

Harry, however, wasn't the first to speak. It was Hermione who took on the lead.

"Er," she said, her voice unusually high out of nerves. "Well—er—hi."

The attention in the room shifted to Hermione, and everyone eyed her expectantly.

"Well…erm…well, you know why you're here. Erm…well, Harry here had the idea—" she stopped herself, having received a rather dirty look from Harry at her words. "I mean, I had the idea—that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts—and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us—because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts—"

"Hear, here," one of the boys in the back said heartily. Hermione suddenly looked more confident.

"—Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

There was a pause while Hermione surveyed Harry for a reaction before she continued.

"Let's hope it turns out better than when we tried to take matters into our own hands," Katie muttered under her breath. I let out a chortle in agreement. No one wanted to be dealt one of Umbridge's torture detentions. Stupid cow.

"And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells—"

"You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?" Michael Corner—Ginny's boyfriend—said a little defiantly.

"Of course I do," Hermione answered quickly. "But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defence because…because…" she breathed in deeply, as if preparing herself for the rest of the sentence. "Because Lord Voldemort is back."

There was a general hiccup in the atmosphere as nearly everyone in the room twitched. Fred's arm nearly fell off the back of my chair, and I took a moment to grin evilly at his nervous reaction. He rolled his eyes at me, prodding me in the back sharply, a playful grin on his handsome face.

Neville Longbottom had let out a particularly cowardly little yelp that had George and Lee chuckling.

"Well…that's the plan, anyway," Hermione said, continuing on as if no one had reacted. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to—"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?"

I turned around to see where the aggressive voice was coming from. It was the angry looking blonde Hufflepuff bloke I had recognized.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it—" Hermione started.

"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," the blonde boy said, nodding at Harry.

My jaw immediately locked in anger, and I could sense Fred and George stiffen a little. It was Ron who first jumped into defensive mode, though.

"Who are you?" Ron said rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," the bloke replied, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Look," Hermione said, intervening swiftly and calmly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about—"

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry interrupted.

Immediately the atmosphere in the room intensified. It was suddenly very clear that most everyone wanted to hear Harry's story first-hand. They weren't necessarily interested in Defence Against the Dark Arts at all. I frowned a little, feeling angry on Harry's behalf. I suppose this sort of thing should have been predicted, though.

"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" Harry repeated, staring pointedly at Zacharius Smith. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Everyone in the room was silent. I had never seen a group of people stare so intently at someone before. Harry was surprisingly collected.

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

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry said angrily.

I could feel my nails beginning to dig into the palms of my hands from clenching my fists so hard. I hadn't realized I was biting down on my lower lip until Fred leaned over to mutter in my ear.

"If your lip starts to bleed, I'm not kissing it better," he joked, trying to soothe me.

"I'm sure I could find someone else to," I teased, feeling momentarily better. I really didn't want to hear about Cedric, and I allowed Fred to momentarily distract me with his horrifically lame—although, strangely endearing—flirting.

"I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right?" My attention returned to the front of the room as I watched as Harry's eyes darted momentarily to meet mine. I nodded my thanks to him. I had a feeling I was the only person in the room who knew exactly what had happened that day. No one else needed to know, I was sure of it. "So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

Harry glanced angrily back at Hermione as everyone waited to see if anyone got up to leave. No one did, so Hermione once again spoke up.

"So," she said, sounding nervous once again. I relaxed, feeling less tense now that the Cedric talk was out of the way. "So…like I was saying…if you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet and where we're going to—"

"Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?"

The question was directed at Harry, and came from a girl with a long plait down her back. I didn't recognize her, but knew from the scarf she wore that she was from Ravenclaw house.

A murmur of interest flowed through the group at the question.

"Yeah," Harry answered, sounding a little defensive still.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er—you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" Harry asked.

"She's my auntie," the girl answered with a broad smile. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So—is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Blimey, Harry!" Lee said from the seat to my right. He sounded immensely impressed. And honestly, so was I. I didn't know of any other student who could produce a Patronus. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," Fred said, grinning widely at Harry. I surveyed him with mild surprise. I hadn't realized he knew. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," Harry mumbled, causing a few people to laugh.

"And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" someone else demanded. I kept my eyes trained on Harry, studying his reaction. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year…"

"Er—yeah, I did, yeah," Harry answered. He sounded almost embarrassed, and he began to flush up at the neck as the room filled with sounds of astonishment.

"And in our first year," Neville said, "he saved that Philological Stone—"

"Philosopher's," Hermione corrected.

"Yes, that—from You-Know-Who," Neville finished, sounding a tad awe-struck.

"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 Acromanutla and things," Cho Chang pointed out.

All at once everyone was muttering to themselves in agreement about how wonderful Harry Potter was. I couldn't help but laugh a little. It was a wonder the boy's head wasn't as big as a planet.

"Look," Harry said, quieting everyone down, "I…I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but…I had a lot of help with all that stuff…"

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," Michael Corner pointed out. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying…"

"Yeah, well—" Harry said.

"And nobody helped you get rid of those Dementors this summer," Susan Bones added.

"No," Harry agreed, "no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is—"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" Zacharius Smith asked. I was really beginning to dislike the boy.

"Here's an idea," Ron said loudly, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

I felt unexpected pride at Ron's words. I think I rather enjoyed seeing him speak up rather than flushing in embarrassment like he always did during Quidditch.

"Well we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," Zacharius said.

"That's not what he said," Fred snapped angrily.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" George threatened, tugging a lethal-looking metal prong from one of his bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," Fred said. I stifled a laugh.

Zacharius fell silent immediately, watching Fred and George with suspicion in his eyes.

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

There was a murmur of agreement through the room, and Hermione looked satisfied.

"Right," she said happily. "Well, then, 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 interrupted from behind me, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," Cho agreed, "nor with ours."

"Not ours," Zacharius added.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," Hermione said impatiently, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters—"

"Well said!" Ernie Macmillan said heartily. Several people turned their heads to look at him. "Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!"

He looked around the room expectantly, as if waiting for someone to disagree with him. Fred and George rolled their eyes simultaneously. I chuckled.

"I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period," he went on. "Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells—"

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts," Hermione interrupted, "is that she's got some…some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilise us against the Ministry."

Everyone was a little stunned by this revelation. Fred, George, Lee, Katie, and I had already formed that general sort of conclusion. We knew Umbridge suspected Dumbledore was some sort of power-hungry fanatical freak show. But she thought he would use us to take down the Minister of Magic? Preposterous.

"Well, that makes sense," Luna Lovegood said dreamily. "After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" Harry said as everyone shot Luna looks of exasperation.

"Yes, he's got an army of Heliopaths," Luna replied in a tone of pure seriousness.

"No, he hasn't," Hermione snapped.

"Yes, he has," Luna disagreed.

"What are Heliopaths?" Neville asked blankly.

"They're spirits of fire," Luna replied. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of—"

"They don't exist, Neville," Hermione said.

"Oh, yes, they do!" Luna said, sounding angry. I was certain she had lost it. Everyone's heads swivelled back and forth between Hermione and Luna, watching with amusement.

"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" Hermione snapped, getting angry.

"There are plenty of eye-witness accounts. Just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you—"

"Hem, hem."

Several people—myself included—stared around in alarm at the sound of Professor Umbridge's voice only to find it was Ginny doing a rather brilliant impersonation of her. There was a laugh of relief, and Ginny spoke.

"Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and have defence lessons?"

"Yes," Hermione said, collecting herself at once. "Yes, we were, you're right, Ginny."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," Lee said.

"As long as—" Angelina started.

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," Hermione said. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet…"

"The library?" Katie suggested after a few moments of empty silence.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," Harry said.

"Maybe an unused classroom?" Dean Thomas said.

"Yeah," Ron said, "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practising for the Triwizard."

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," Hermione said when no one could come up with any better ideas. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."

Everyone nodded in general agreement as Hermione started rummaging in her bag. She pulled out a quill and some parchment, then stared round at all of us.

"I—I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think…" she paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "I think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to."

Hermione looked highly uncomfortable as she clutched the parchment in front of her. Fred was the first to reach for it, cheerfully signing the page before sliding it over to me. I scrawled my name down easily beneath his, and then passed it on to Lee, and then to George.

Others in the room looked much less enthusiastic about writing their names down.

"Er…" Zacharius stalled, refusing to touch the parchment that George was attempting to pass to him. "Well…I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."

One glance at Ernie told me he wasn't too keen on having his name on the page, either.

"I—well, we are prefects," Ernie pointed out. "And if this list was found…well, I mean to say…you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out—"

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I—yes," Ernie admitted, sounding a little defeated. "Yes, I do believe that, it's just—"

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

"No. No, of course not," he said, sounding a little more convinced. "I—yes, of course I'll sign."

Not one person after that objected to writing their name down. Not even Zacharius, although he was the last to take the list.

Once the meeting had officially ended, Fred tugged me up with him, preparing to leave. Cheerfully, he, George, Lee, Katie, Angelina and I left together. None of us realized just how significant the event of signing that piece of parchment would turn out to be.

We left the Hog's Head feeling united.