I do not own Harry Potter. Charlotte Potter is my OC.

The Tell-Tale Tattler

Shuffling across the floor towards their new Divination classroom, Charlie could not help but admit that Dumbledore definitely scored points for assigning a centaur to be Hogwarts' most recent professor. It was a slap in the face to Umbridge, who despised half-breeds, and a small but important victory for them.

"What do think these classes will be like?" asked Harry.

Ron shrugged. "Don't know, but I'm sure he knows more about the subject than Trelawney does."

The trio entered the ground floor classroom and immediately halted; eyes wide at the sight. The floor was soft moss, trees stretched up from the ground, the leaves stretching across the ceiling and windows, creating a shady, peaceful atmosphere. Students were leaning against small boulders and tree trunks, looking around in awe and uncertainty. In the middle of the classroom, standing on a clear section of grass, was Firenze.

"Charlotte Potter," he said softly when his eyes landed on the girl. He extended his hand when she approached him.

"Professor," she returned politely, shaking his hand firmly.

"Firenze will do, Charlotte. We do not need formalities here."

"Right." She smiled. "It's nice to see you again."

"You as well," said Firenze. "It was foretold our paths would cross again."

Charlie went to take a seat beside her friends, aware that most of the class was looking at her in astonishment. It probably surprised many of them that she actually knew the centaur teaching their class, thanks to an encounter in the Forbidden Forest in her first year. She glanced at Firenze and noticed a faint, hoof-shaped bruise on his chest.

Geez, wonder where that came from.

Her question was soon answered when Firenze started the class, explaining that the classroom was an imitation of his natural habitat. He was unable to teach them in the Forbidden Forest due to being banished by his herd. After a question from Parvati, he confessed that his herd believed his employment with Dumbledore was a betrayal to his kind.

But Firenze didn't seem keen to dwell on the matter and raised his hand towards the canopy of leaves. As he lowered his hand the ceiling changed to twilight, stars glittering above them. Everyone gasped in awe.

"Lay down and observe the heavens, for there is written the fortune of our races," he said softly.

What followed was perhaps the most interesting Divination lesson Charlie had ever had. Firenze was the polar opposite of Trelawney. The self-proclaimed Seer professed that she knew everything and could predict the future on a regular basis. It was clear to those who were willing to see that she was a fraud. Firenze didn't admit to know anything and that no one's knowledge was foolproof.

Students walked out at the end of class looking perplexed. Charlie was about to step out the door when Firenze called, "Charlotte, I would like to speak with you for a minute."

The Ravenclaw paused and turned around with a curious expression. "Sir?"

Ron and Harry hovered near the door and Firenze motioned for them to close it. "You are a friend of Hagrid's, correct?"

"Yes," she replied in bemusement, unsure of where this was going.

"Then I implore you to give him a warning for me. His attempt is not working and he would do well to abandon it."

Charlie blinked. "Um…okay. I'll do that."

"Thank you, Charlotte Potter."

The trio departed and Ron stared at her in bafflement. "What attempt?"

"I don't know and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know," she answered.

It was difficult to relay Firenze's message when Umbridge was hounding Hagrid every class. But she managed to catch the man out of Umbridge's earshot and told him what Firenze had said. Hagrid was dismissive and Charlie grew concerned when Hagrid refused to answer her question on what exactly his 'attempt' was.

But she didn't have too much time to worry about yet another one of Hagrid's projects. With the O.W.L.s rapidly approaching the teachers were becoming more relentless with the workload, and more than a few people needed to be sent to Pomfrey for a Calming Draught.

The only thing not causing her too much stress these days were the DA lessons. On the last class before Easter holidays she taught them about the Patronus Charm. She warned them that producing a Patronus in a brightly lit classroom was phenomenally different from producing one in a fearful situation, but everyone was too excited to really pay that much mind.

There were quite a few who managed to produce a full-body Patronus, such as Cho and Hermione, much to Charlie's delight. Others managed to conjure silver wisps and only a couple were having difficulty producing anything at all.

"You guys are doing great!" she praised. "Keep it up!"

"But I'm not doing anything," said Neville, clearly frustrated with himself.

"You will," assured Charlie, setting a hand on his shoulder. "It just takes some time. You have to think of something happy."

"Easier said than done," said Neville miserably, but he kept on trying.

"Charlotte Potter!"

Charlie jolted in surprise as her house-elf Apparated abruptly beside her, his round eyes filled with panic. "Dobby!" she exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

"House-elves have been told not to tell, but Dobby only takes orders from one! It's Umbridge, Miss! She's coming!"

For a solid second, she gaped in horror. When she managed to find her voice, she shrieked, "Everybody out! Run for the library, the Owlery, the closest bathrooms! Don't try to make it all the way to your dorms!"

People stampeded for the exit, jostling each other as they wrestled to get out of the room. Charlie bent down and said to Dobby urgently, "Go back to the kitchen. If anyone asks, you never warned me and you didn't see me today. Okay?"

Dobby nodded hard. "Yes, Miss!"

"I'll see you later. And thanks!"

Dobby Disapparated and Charlie raced for the back of the crowd struggling to get out. She danced anxiously on her feet, a million and one punishments going through her mind that she imagined would happen if Umbridge caught them.

"Let's go!" cried Hermione as the doorway finally cleared and she took off, Ron and Harry already long gone.

Charlie paused for a brief moment, suddenly remembering the Dumbledore's Army list pinned to the wall. She whirled around, raised her wand and called, "Incendio!"

The parchment went up in flames and she took off into the corridor, where she could make out fleeting glimpses of heels disappearing around corners. She sprinted down the corridor, heart pounding madly in her chest. There was a girl's bathroom near her, it would be a good place to hide out until—

"Oof!"

Something wrapped tightly by her ankles, causing her to take a nasty fall to the floor. With a groan of pain, she rolled over onto her back and watched with a scowl and Draco slipped out of their hiding spots, approaching her with gleeful expressions.

"We got her, Professor!" called Draco. "We got her!"

Charlie glared fiercely at the ceiling, listening at the footsteps that fell rapidly in their direction. Umbridge appeared around the corner and her eyes lit up at the sight of the raven-haired girl. "Very good!" she crooned. "Fifty points to Slytherin! See if you can find anyone else. I'd suggest checking the bathrooms. Come along, Potter."

'Harry, if you're hiding in the bathrooms, scatter. The Slytherins are coming.'

'Got it! Are you safe?'

'Nope. Umbridge has me.'

'Oh, no.'

With an iron grip Umbridge hauled Charlie to her feet and led her down the corridors. She could feel the ecstatic energy radiating from the woman as she was lugged all the way to Dumbledore's office. Her nails bit into her side as she rode the stone staircase to the door, her mind whirling.

Wonderful. Dursleys, here I come.

They entered the office and Charlie's heart fell a few more inches when she discovered it was rather full of people. Dumbledore was at his desk, fingertips pressed firmly together. McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her expression hard.

Fudge stood across from the desk, looking rather pleased. Kingsley and another wizard Charlie did not recognize were guarding the door. Standing next to the Minister was Percy Weasley, armed with a scroll and quill. The portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses were staring out of their frames intently, whispering urgently amongst each other.

"Well, what do we have here?" said Fudge softly, eyes flashing with immense satisfaction.

"Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson caught her trying to escape," said Umbridge with a wide smile.

"Did they? How commendable of them. I'll be sure to have a word with Lucius. Well, Potter, would you care to tell me why you're here?"

Charlie stared indifferently. "No."

Fudge bristled. "No? What do you mean, no?"

"Well, with all due respect, I can't tell you something I don't know."

He was floored. "You have no idea why you're here?" he demanded.

"Nope."

She shot the briefest of glances towards Dumbledore, unsure of what he could be possibly be thinking. She was caught off guard when he gave a miniscule nod of approval towards her decision to play dumb.

"Well, then I'll tell you," said Fudge frostily. "You are here because you have broken a Ministry Decree. You are part of an illegal organization that has been meeting within these school walls."

"That's news to me," she replied calmly, keeping her face a blank mask.

"Perhaps you'll change your tune once I bring in the witness," said Umbridge silkily. "Shall I, Cornelius?"

Fudge nodded. "Yes, please."

She had not really realized that in order for the DA to be busted, someone had to sell them out. But she had a pretty good idea of who it was, and she wasn't surprised when Umbridge returned, steering Marietta by the shoulders. Her fellow Ravenclaw's face was ducked down to the floor.

"There's no reason for you to be frightened," said Umbridge softly. "The Minister is very happy with you. Her mother works in the Department of Magical Transportation," she explained to Fudge. "She's been monitoring the Hogwarts fires."

"Like mother, like daughter," said Fudge benevolently. "Lift your head, dear, and tell us—great Merlin!"

Marietta immediately pulled the neck of her robes over her exposed face, which was disfigured by close-set purple pustules which spelled out 'sneak' across her face. She let out a wail of despair and Charlie knew instantly that Hermione's jinx was in place.

Not bad, Hermione. Not bad.

"Well, if you won't tell him, I will," said Umbridge impatiently. "Miss Edgecombe came to my office shortly after dinner and informed me that there was a secret room, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement. She told me where it was and that if I went there, I would find something advantageous to me. Unfortunately, this hex kicked in and she noticed herself in my mirror. She became too distressed to speak to me further."

Fudge nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, dear, can you tell me what this meeting was about and who was there?"

Marietta shook her head, peering over the top of the neck of her robes, eyes filled with fear. Charlie felt a stab of pity for the girl, but not as much as she pitied herself.

"Is there anything we can do to get rid of that jinx?" he asked impatiently.

Umbridge shook her head. "Not that I know of," she was forced to admit. "But no matter, I can tell you the rest of the story. Do you remember back in October, when I sent you the report saying Potter met her fellow students at Hog's Head?"

"On what knowledge do you know that?" asked McGonagall sharply.

"Willy Widdershins," answered Umbridge promptly. "He was sitting at the bar at the time and heard everything. He may have been covered in bandages, but his hearing is perfect. After the meeting he hurried straight up to the castle to tell me."

"Well, now I know why he wasn't prosecuted for setting up those regurgitating toilets," said McGonagall scathingly.

A few of the portraits made noises of outrage at this revelation.

"Potter's intention of this meeting," said Umbridge loudly, "was to persuade them to join an illegal society, where Potter would teach spells and curses the Ministry has deemed inappropriate for school-age children."

"I am afraid that is where you are wrong," said Dumbledore softly.

Fudge looked at him with an astonished expression. "Oh, yes, let's hear how you're going to get Potter out of this one."

Charlie glanced sideways at Dumbledore, confusion and uncertainty bubbling within her. With Marietta and Willy Widdershins giving testimonies, she was as good as done.

"What's the story this time?" asked Fudge with a sneer. "Potter's identical twin was there instead of her?"

It took quite a lot of effort to keep from guffawing out loud. She bit down on her lip hard and tried to contain her amusement. Well, technically, my twin was there. Only he's not an identical twin.

Dumbledore studied Fudge over the tops of his fingers. "I am not suggesting that Charlotte was not in Hog's Head that day, nor that she was not gathering members for a Defense Against the Dark Arts group. I am merely saying that when she did so, it was two days before the Ministry Decree banning all student societies came into effect."

Though Fudge was thrown for a loop with that one, Umbridge was quick to make a rebuttal. "That is true, but we are now six months after Educational Degree Twenty-four has been made. The first meeting may not have been illegal, but the rest certainly are."

Geez, people, it's not like we arranged this club to prepare for a robbery. I'm trying to prepare them to fight Voldemort.

"Well then, do you have any evidence that the meetings did continue after the decree came into effect?" asked Dumbledore calmly.

There was a soft mutter of words coming from behind her and something rustled her robes. She blinked and glanced down, but saw nothing.

"Miss Edgecombe is our evidence," said Umbridge, lifting her head. "Why do you think she's here?"

"I was under the impression that she was here to speak about a meeting for tonight," said Dumbledore serenely. "Not to speak about six months' worth."

Umbridge whirled around and stared intently at Marietta. "Tell us how long these meetings have been going on. All you have to do is nod or shake your head, I'm sure that won't reactivate the jinx. Have these meetings been going on for six months?"

Charlie watched her fellow Ravenclaw apprehensively. She was rather astonished, though she didn't show it, when Marietta shook her head. Blinking, she looked at the curly-haired girl curiously, noticing that her eyes were rather blank.

"I don't think you quite understood the question," said Umbridge, attempting to sound patient. "You've been going to these meetings for the past six months, haven't you?"

Another shake of the head.

"I think it is you who does not understand," said McGonagall scathingly. "Miss Edgecombe is saying that there haven't been any meetings for the past six months. Right, Miss Edgecombe?"

Marietta nodded.

"And Miss Potter wasn't leading any of these supposed meetings in the Room of Requirement, was she?" continued McGonagall.

Umbridge was furious when Marietta gave another nod. "What you mean by that?" she demanded, grabbing Marietta by front of her robes and shaking her harshly. "You told me—"

But she didn't get to finish, for Dumbledore was on his feet with his wand raised. "You will not handle my students in so rough a manner, Dolores," he said sharply, blue eyes flashing with steel.

Kingsley started forwards and spoke softly to Umbridge, who looked rather flustered. Charlie carefully reached out and pulled Marietta gently towards her, slightly bewildered how the girl did not react. Her eyes were still showing a lack of emotion, and she suddenly thought of Kingsley and his whispers.

Oh…well played.

"Do you have any physical evidence that proves there was a meeting tonight?" demanded Fudge. "Do you have any names?"

Umbridge collected herself, but her face morphed into a smile that sent shivers down Charlie's spine. "Well, I do have one name, and I think it's really the only one that matters. You see, Cornelius, I went to the Room of Requirement with some trustworthy students to apprehend these rule-breakers. Most of them got away, unfortunately, but Miss Parkinson raced into the room and found this burning on the wall. She managed to salvage this."

Charlie felt her heart freeze as Umbridge extended a short, charred piece of parchment towards the Minister. Most of the names had burned away, with the exception of hers, which had been at the top of the list.

Typical.

"It seems someone was trying to cover their tracks," said Fudge softly, taking the frail parchment gently between his fingers. "Well, would you look here? They've named themselves Dumbledore's Army."

Dumbledore stared at the bold heading, written in Hermione's neat scrawl months before. For a moment he seemed unable to speak, but soon collected himself. "Well, then, I suppose there's no more to it. Will it be a written confession, Cornelius, or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?"

McGonagall and Kingsley shot quick glances at each other. Charlie felt ice crawl through her veins, eyes growing wide.

No.

Seeing Fudge's confusion, Dumbledore clarified, "It's not Potter's Army, Cornelius. It's Dumbledore's Army. "

The man's eyes almost bugged out of his head. "You!" he shouted. "You recruited students to plot against me?!"

Dumbledore nodded cheerfully. "That's right. Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting, but I'm afraid it didn't go as planned. I see now it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe."

"Wait a minute—" snapped Charlie, wincing slightly at the sharp, warning grip McGonagall placed on her shoulder.

"Quiet now, Charlotte," said Dumbledore calmly. "The game is up."

"You bet it is!" cried Fudge, getting rather red in the face from excitement. "Weasley, did you get everything down?"

"Yes, sir," said Percy eagerly.

"Excellent!" said Fudge jovially. "Run off now and make a copy of your notes. Send them to the Daily Prophet right away! We might be able to make the morning edition!" When Percy raced out of the office, Fudge surveyed Dumbledore with a victorious expression. "Well, Dumbledore, you will be escorted down to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and be sent to Azkaban to await trial!"

Dumbledore tilted his head to the side. "I am afraid that's where we're going to disagree."

"What do you mean?" demanded Umbridge.

"I am not going to Azkaban. Not quietly, at least."

"Well, then I suppose we'll have to take you in by force!" hissed Fudge. "Dawlish!"

The wiry-haired wizard Charlie did not recognize raised his wand. Before he could do anything a streak of silver light burst across the room and the floor trembled. McGonagall took the two Ravenclaws by the necks of their robes and dragged them to the floor as another streak of silver light burst overhead. Fawkes let out a squawk and a great cloud of dust filled the office.

Everything went silent. Coughing, Charlie squinted her eyes open and stared around the room. Through the dust she could make out the figures of Umbridge, Fudge, Kingsley and Dawlish on the floor, unconscious. She slowly sat up, staring around at the wrecked office. The tables and desk were overturned and Dumbledore's collection of silver instruments were in pieces. Fawkes flew in circles above them, singing softly.

Dumbledore stood above them, a concerned expression on his face. "Are you hurt?"

"No, we're perfectly fine," said McGonagall briskly, standing up and bringing the two girls with her.

"It is a shame I had to hex Kingsley, but it would have looked suspicious otherwise. He was rather quick with his spell work, modifying Miss Edgecombe's memory like that."

"Where will you go?" asked McGonagall softly.

"Not in hiding, as you may be hoping." Dumbledore gave a grim smile. "Fudge will regret ousting me from Hogwarts, I can promise that.

Charlie felt sick to her stomach. The one person who had a chance of standing up against Umbridge, of truly protecting them from Voldemort, was being forced out of the castle, and it was all her fault. "Sorry," she whispered.

"No," said Dumbledore, and she was slightly taken aback by the intensity of which he stared at her. "Do not apologize. You have no need to. But listen, I have not much time. Professor Snape says you have been progressing well in Occlumency. Keep practicing, keep up the lessons. Promise me!"

Charlie's eyes widened. "But—"

"Promise," insisted Dumbledore and his hand closed around her wrist.

Her scar seared with a sharp, brief pain, and she struck by an overwhelming urge to lunge forwards and attack the man in front of her.

"Promise," she said hastily.

Fawkes swooped low and Dumbledore grabbed onto his long golden tail, and they were gone in a burst of fire. Fudge awoke just then and got to his feet, eyes blazing. "Where did he go?"

"He couldn't have Disapparated," hissed Umbridge.

"He must have gone for the stairs!" cried Dawlish, and he took off with Kingsley following after him.

Fudge stood stiffly in the middle of the office, stewing in silent fury. McGonagall stared at him with a cold expression. "It seems that you have a situation on your hands. Since there is obviously little left to talk about, I will be taking these students to bed."

"On the contrary," said Umbridge, her toad-like face scrunched up in absolute lividness. "Potter and I have quite a bit to discuss."

McGonagall's fingers tightened around Charlie's arm. "She already said she doesn't know anything."

"You know as well as I do that's a blatant lie," hissed Umbridge. "The staff of this school have done enough of protecting Potter's utter disregard for rules. No more. Wouldn't you agree, Minister?"

"Yes, whatever," said Fudge angrily, turning to face Umbridge. "I'm going back to the office in case there is any news."

Umbridge all but yanked Charlie out of McGonagall's grip and hustled her out of Dumbledore's office. Charlie managed to look over her shoulder and cast the Transfiguration professor a smile of reassurance, but as she swept down the stairs, she did not see any of the tense apprehension leave the woman's face.

"I don't care what you say or what Miss Edgecombe says," snarled Umbridge. "I know you have been holding meetings all these months. I will get the information out of you and you will be expelled. Let's see how many hours you can withstand writing lines."

"I'm going to bleed to death," snapped Charlie, "because I don't know anything."

"Unfortunately for me, you won't bleed to death from Blood Quills," said Umbridge, sounding genuinely bitter about the fact. "But the pain will make you wish you were."

This was perhaps the most blatant act of maliciousness Umbridge had openly displayed. Charlie felt her heart thud in her chest, knowing very well Umbridge would not let her leave unless she had gotten the information she desired.

Well, at least I'll have a day off classes tomorrow, she thought darkly.

The duo disappeared into Umbridge's office and Harry stepped out around from the corner, face deathly pale. He had hidden in the library for about a half hour before daring to leave, urging Ron to go back to his dorm. The Hufflepuff went in search of his sister, hoping that maybe somehow, he could free her from Umbridge's wrath.

But he knew he couldn't do it alone. She was going to be stuck in Umbridge's office all night, carving words into her hand and making sure he didn't feel a single iota of pain.

Charlie would probably be upset with him if he told a teacher. She had kept her Blood Quill detentions a secret for fear that Umbridge would fire any staff member that tried to intervene. As far as he knew, Lee Jordan was the only other recipient of the Blood Quill, and not to the extent of Charlie's experience.

His lips thinned into a line and his fists clenched determinedly. No more.

Charlie had put herself through enough of Umbridge's torture. It was about time someone spoke up. And if it wouldn't be her, then it would be him.

After all, a brother was supposed to look after his sister.

Racing down the corridors, he went to the first place that entered his mind. He hoped the staff room would have someone in it, for it wasn't too late in the evening. Taking a deep breath, he knocked firmly on the door, heart stuttering nervously and anxiously in his chest.

It was McGonagall who answered. The woman, having made sure Marietta Edgecombe was well enough to make it to her dorm, went straight to the staff room to relay the events to her fellow Heads of House, who had been waiting for her.

"Mr. Lupin?" she asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What brings you here so close to curfew?"

"Umbridge has Charlie!" he blurted.

McGonagall's eyebrows flew up. "I am well aware of that, Mr. Lupin. I am more interested, however, in how you know so."

Harry turned red. "I may or may not have been a part of something that is illegal in this school, and Charlie may or may not have gotten busted for it," he said in a low voice. "Now she's in trouble."

The Transfiguration professor was not surprised in the least that the Hufflepuff was involved in the secret club. "Umbridge is merely questioning her. I assure you; she will be sent back to her dorm once Umbridge sees she will not be getting any names from her."

"But you don't understand," insisted Harry. "Charlie's detentions with Umbridge are horrible! She has to write lines—"

"Hardly a terrible punishment, Mr. Lupin."

"—with a Blood Quill."

McGonagall stared at Harry for a moment, processing this new bit of information. Then she whirled around and hollered, "Pomona, Filius, Severus, we need to get Potter out of Umbridge's office now! The woman's got the girl using a Blood Quill!"

Harry scrambled to the side as the four Heads of House made rapid tracks for Umbridge's office. He started to follow after them, but Sprout paused for a moment to send her Badger a stern glance. "Back to your dorm, Mr. Lupin. It's now past curfew and I think you've broken enough rules for one year."

Faltering, Harry hesitated for only a second before nodding and taking off in the other direction.

In Umbridge's office, Charlie sat across from the woman, a long piece of parchment in front of her. Her teeth were gritted together, bright red blood glistening on her hand as she wrote 'I must not tell lies' over and over. She had not uttered a word since she arrived, and she could see Umbridge growing increasingly frustrated on top of the anger over Dumbledore's escape.

The door leading to the office flew open and she jumped, looking over her shoulder with wide eyes. Umbridge got to her feet, mouth parting to say something. But before she could get a word out Flitwick stormed forwards, eyes flashing with fury. He grabbed his Eagle by the back of her robes and pulled her out of the chair.

"Excuse me," said Umbridge tightly, "Miss Potter has not yet completed her punishment—"

"Yes, she has," said Flitwick icily. "And so long as you have this wretched thing, I will make sure she or any other student doesn't have another detention with you again." He turned to Charlie, who was standing nervously near the three Heads of House who stood near the door. She was cradling her bleeding hand against her chest.

"I have the authority around here," hissed Umbridge. "Dumbledore is gone, and—"

"That may be true," interrupted McGonagall. "But so long as we are around, we will not allow you to harm the students."

"How dare you! She's the leader of this army, she's the one who burned that list to protect the other members, she's the one the evidence is against!"

"You merely found her name on a list," said McGonagall scathingly. "Dumbledore did not say she was the leader. He said he was. The blame is on his shoulders, and you've already ousted him from the castle. Is that not enough for you?"

"Or are you so petty that you must get your revenge on the fifteen-year-old girl that's been trying to discredit you all year?" added Sprout venomously.

Umbridge pursed her lips, regarding the group with her eyes all but narrowed into slits. Snape crossed his arms, a disgusted sneer on his face. "I wonder what Fudge would say if he knew of your detention methods on students."

Her posture stiffened and Charlie knew they had struck onto something. She felt some sense of relief, for whatever reason, that Fudge had very little idea of what Umbridge was actually doing at Hogwarts. It meant that for Umbridge to hide the Blood Quill from him, it was because he would be against its use.

Flitwick turned to the raven-haired girl, who was watching the events with wide eyes. "Infirmary, Miss Potter."

She hesitated, but a firm prod from Sprout sent her hurrying from the office. Flitwick raised his wand and gave it a sharp flick, sending the Blood Quill snapping into dozens of pieces. Umbridge clenched her fists and glowered in utter revulsion, but did not speak.

"No matter how much pain you put her through, she's not going to say anything," said Flitwick softly, looking at Umbridge with a fierce glare. "She will not bend to your will, conform to your ideas. None of us will."

Trembling with rage, Umbridge uttered, "Get out."

"Gladly."

The four professors filed out and Sprout forcibly shut the door behind them. Flitwick took a few deep breaths to calm himself as they started down the corridor. "I can't believe this."

"Well, that's hopefully the end of that, at least," said Sprout grimly. "Though I suspect we're all going to be in for it at a later date."

"She can try," said McGonagall with narrowed eyes. "But after this I've realized just how much we don't know of what she's been doing. I'm not leaving this place of my own free will, not as long as she's around."

"Exactly how did Mr. Lupin know where Miss Potter was?" asked Snape suspiciously.

"I have an idea," said Sprout with a heavy sigh. "If there was some secret student club, no doubt Potter's gang were all involved. I can't say how exactly he knew Umbridge had taken Potter into her nasty clutches, but I think this is one moment where it's best if we don't know too much."

"I'll have to agree with that one," said McGonagall with a nod. "I think the less we know of their rebellious efforts against Umbridge, the better."

"Though we ought to drop hints about them being a bit more subtle," said Flitwick. "I wouldn't be surprised if she has more of those wretched quills around."

Snape shook his head. "I doubt she is idiotic enough to continue using her primary detention method, now that we know. I'm absolutely certain Fudge has no idea of what she's doing. He's utterly imbecilic, but he's not cruel."

"I'm off to speak with Miss Potter," said Flitwick starting to turn the corner.

"Don't be too hard on her," spoke Sprout. "You know why she didn't say anything."

Flitwick only nodded and continued on his way to the infirmary, leaving his colleagues to wonder what was in store for Hogwarts now that Dumbledore was gone.

In the sterile ward, Charlie had just finished getting her hand cleaned by Pomfrey, who was tight-lipped as she worked. The Ravenclaw felt her stomach twist with nerves and she stared at the floor, suddenly wondering if she had done the right thing but not saying anything about the Blood Quill.

"How is she?"

Charlie felt her heart jump at the sound of her Head of House's voice. Pomfrey finished disinfecting the fresh cuts and glanced up with a stiff nod. "She's fine, though there's nothing I can do about the marks."

"Come along, Miss Potter. You've had quite the night, and it's time for bed."

She said a soft thanks to Pomfrey and scurried out of the infirmary, following after Flitwick with her head ducked down. She knew the question that was coming, and winced when he said sharply, "What markings?"

She silently held out her hand, the sleeve of her robes pulling back and revealing the thin white scars that spelled out 'I must not tell lies' across the back of her hand. Flitwick stared at them for a moment before letting out a long sigh.

"I'm not sure what to do with you, Miss Potter."

Charlie managed a weak smile. "Me either, frankly."

The tiny professor looked at her with an intent expression. "I think I know why you would suffer in silence, but I would like to hear it from you."

His Eagle glanced at her shoes; forehead wrinkled as she tried to think of how to express her thoughts. "Umbridge is a horrible, nasty woman, and I figured if I told a professor and they tried to intervene, she would immediately do whatever it took to fire them. I didn't want to be the reason for that. Besides, as far as I know, the only person other than me to get detention with her is Lee Jordan, and his was only for one day."

"That's the rather vexing habit you have, Miss Potter," said Flitwick with a shake of his head, unable to keep a smile from his lips. "You'll go to the moon to protect those around you, no matter what you have to go through to do it. Odd, isn't it, that you were the only one caught this evening?"

"Er, well, if everything had gone the way I expected it to, I would have been off scot-free like everyone else," said Charlie with a sheepish grin.

"That aside, you should have told me sooner what Umbridge was forcing you to do," said Flitwick sternly. "She didn't have the right to do this, and I think she knows it." He gently took the girl's scarred hand and studied the markings, feeling a rush of solemnness for what the girl had gone through in order to protect them. "You are as valiant as you are bright, but you need to start learning that it's just as important to look out for yourself as it is to look after others."

"Right," said Charlie, a light flush rising up in her face. "Sorry."

They reached Ravenclaw Tower and Flitwick answered the riddle, sending the girl up the stairs. Before she disappeared from sight, he said, "The reason Umbridge is determined to do whatever it takes to conquer you is because she fears you."

Bewildered, Charlie paused on the spiral steps and glanced at her Head of House. "She fears me?"

"I don't think she's ever encountered someone so young who is as resistant to her authority as you are. She sees your determination in discrediting her, proven by your act with The Quibbler and with your little secret club that's been going on under her very nose for six months. You've been outdoing her, and that's frightening her."

Charlie arched an eyebrow. "Well, I guess I'm the one who should be frightened now. Professor Dumbledore is gone. I think we all know who's going to take his place during his absence."

Flitwick gave a knowing smile. "Perhaps, but I don't think Umbridge will find the school as receptive to her leadership as we are to Dumbledore's."

She grinned. "Right."

"And remember, Miss Potter, we professors are no more intimated by Umbridge's rule than you. You aren't the only one who won't let things happen without a fight. Though I suggest you try being more subtle about it."

A warm feeling flooded through Charlie and she nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Professor Flitwick."

"Thank you, Miss Potter. Good night."

"Good night."

She hurried up straight to her dorm, where Hermione was waiting for her. She spent some time telling her bushy-haired friend what happened, all the way up to her rescue from Umbridge's office. Hermione was relieved that they didn't have to worry about the Blood Quill anymore, and annoyed that Marietta had sold them out. She was slightly perturbed by Dumbledore's dislodging, but knew there wasn't much they could do about it.

The two girls climbed into bed. Charlie lowered her mental block, but before she could send Harry a thought his voice immediately filled her brain.

'It's about time.'

'What do you mean?' asked Charlie in bemusement.

'You've only been blocking my thoughts ever since you told me Umbridge caught you.'

'You've noticed, huh?'

Harry gave a mental snort. 'I'm starting to sense when you're blocking our communication. It's when I know that you probably don't want to be bothered at the moment. Though you've been blocking our emotional connection on a regular basis.'

Charlie was sheepish. 'I don't know when I'm going to start feeling sensations from Voldemort. I decided it would be best if you didn't feel my emotions for the time being.'

'You're really good at these blocks.'

'Practice. You should start practicing them too. I discovered that an Occlumens can accomplish a full mental block after years. But it seems I'm ahead of the game, thanks to our Sibling Bond.'

'So you don't need any more lessons with Snape?'

'No, I do. The problem is that I don't know when our connection is going to act up.'

'Well, can't you stop it when it starts?'

'…you're going to think I'm crazy.'

'Never.'

Charlie gave a mental sigh. 'Getting visions and dreams from Voldemort is horrible, painful and terrifying. But…I feel better knowing what he's seeing, and I think he's as unable to control what I see from him as I am. When I have these dreams, I have an idea of what he's doing, what he's planning. Does that make sense?'

'Yeah, it does.'

'But I know it's stupid to keep this connection open. I'll learn to completely close my mind to him soon enough. If at least to keep him from figuring out us.'

'Think I should practice Occlumency?' asked Harry.

Charlie thought for a moment. 'For now, practice your mental blocks and emotional blocks. When we tell Sirius and Remus the truth, I guess it'll be up to them to decide whether or not you need it.'

'I'll give it my best shot. So what exactly happened?'

'I'll tell you and Ron tomorrow morning. How did you know where I was?'

'I'll tell you tomorrow morning,' said Harry, a teasing lilt to his voice.

'Fair enough,' replied Charlie in amusement.

'Are you okay?'

'Yeah. I'm fine. And thanks for looking out for me.'

'Anytime, sis. Anytime.'