The next few weeks at Hogwarts were kind of settling for Frisk. None of her friends got detention, she was keeping up with her homework, she even had the chance to sit in on a Gryffindor quidditch practice and watch her siblings help practice with the main team. Granted, her attention wandered during it, and she had absently picked up her soul magic book before it finished, but she was pretty sure neither Chara nor Asriel had noticed.

What they, and Frisk, had noticed, was the clique that was forming among the members of Dumbledore's Army. There were some differences, she supposed, then the cliques that formed around any other club. The first was that it was both technically illegal, and the second was that it was furthering their studies that they were, in fact, supposed to be learning. So it had attracted some certain kinds of students, not specific to any house, those that would seek out trouble... or at least, those who were convinced it would come to them. It'd also attracted those like Hermione, who were paranoid about their studies despite being good students.

It was something Frisk mused on during the next few sessions, anyway. Those sessions were kind of rough, if Frisk was being honest with herself. They were practicing mostly inoffensive hexes, and Frisk was struggling with them. Both Opal and Chara had taken to them right away, even Asriel could get the Jelly-Legs hex after a number of tries. But it took Frisk most of the time they had to get it to work just once. The whole exercise left Frisk somewhat depressed and reasonably frustrated, but that was nothing something sleep couldn't cure. Sleep and another text message from the non-wizard Anne, anyway.

"How did recruitment go?" Frisk asked Steven covertly as they filed into another afternoon of potions. "I'd been meaning to ask you. I mean, I've seen the others in 'class', so to speak, but I did kind of wonder."

Steven waited until all the students were in their seats, and Professor Snape was in the process of charming the door shut before replying. "Well, I think, at least, nobody complained that she'd or he'd been turned down by Hermione."

The door shut with a bang, and everyone fell silent, their eyes turned toward the front of the class. "Today, we shall be discussing the velaritc poison, one of the most common and benign poisons. In fact, it's commonly called gnomedraught. Does anyone here know why?" he asked dryly, his eyes searching the class.

A few hands went up, though Frisk's was not among them.

"Mr. Marsh," the professor said, pointing at Frisk's table, "Why is this so?"

"It's a sleeping potion..." began Steven.

"Poison, but continue," corrected Professor Snape.

"It's a sleeping poison," Steven tried again. "Mild enough that some healers recommend it as an insomnia cure. But it's more commonly put into gardens in order to knock out garden gnomes, so that they can be degnomed more efficiently."

"All of that is correct. Five points to Slytherin," the Professor said, nodding. "Today, we will be brewing some gnomedraught." He motioned his wand, and his blackboard filled with chalk writing. "Directions are, as always, on the blackboard."

Steven put his hand up again, interrupting the professor's instructions.

Professor Snape looked down at Steven, and motioned for him to speak.

"Why is it considered a poison, Professor?" he asked.

"Because it is tasteless and odorless," he explained, "And thus can be easily mixed into other liquids. This is the normal way to serve it to gnomes. Also, drinking too much can put a person into a deep enough sleep that an antidote is required to wake a sleeper."

Steven nodded his thanks.

"Very well, unless there are other questions..." the potions master's gaze swept across the room. "Begin."

Steven and Frisk started by copying down the ingredients list, then double checking their lists against each other, then going to gather them. Then it was carving the wormwood, powdering the hermit crab shell, and dissecting a few other odds and ends.

When they weren't keeping each other focused on the potion making, Frisk and Steven made safe small talk, such as the upcoming Gryffindor vs Slytherin quidditch match. To be fair, neither of them really cared about the sport, but they didn't really want to expose what they were doing to the rest of the class.

At the end, Frisk's and Steven bottled their own samples of clear liquid. As Frisk walked up to the professor's desk to present it for grading, she felt the pocket of her robe grow warm for a few seconds. She placed the bottle down with the rest and made eye contact with her potions partner, who nodded in agreement.

They cleaned up and left the potions classroom behind before they both fished a galleon from their pockets, reading the numbers along the edge'. "Tonight?" Frisk grumbled. "You know, it'd be easier if he gave us just a little warning."

"Bet there's actual lightning," Steven said, grinning. "and a lot of people's schedules opened up. See you at dinner, or tonight, Frisk."

"Ha! Take care," Frisk said, as she headed up to Arithmancy.

That evening, after dinner, Frisk, Chara, and Asriel, escorted by Ron Weasley, to the room Dumbledore's Army was using for their secret training. They'd had a few meetings over the past weeks, never on the same day twice. They started by revising the disarm jinx, the jelly-legs hex (which Frisk STILL was having trouble with), and the shield charm, before moving into something new.

That something new was both Stupefy, the stunning spell, and its counter charm Rennervate. Harry had set up the room with a series of pillows to fall on, reminding Frisk again of non-magical martial arts. Frisk, to the not-surprise of anyone who knew her, was really struggling. After her third failed try at stunning Opal, she sighed.

"This is, at earliest, a fourth year charm," Opal told her. "It's not a surprise we're having trouble with it," her friend reminded her.

"It's more than that," Frisk said. She held her wand in front of her, performing the charm, if not perfectly, at least correctly. But her wand felt like it had turned into lead, and it had been a struggle to move it in the prescribed fashion.

"Your heart's not in it," Opal guessed, "Any more than it was in muggle martial arts. Disarming people is one thing, but you don't want to see people hurt."

"That's... not wrong," Frisk conceded. "But it's hard to hurt people less than stunning them. I think my wand's actually resisting performing this charm. It doesn't want to hurt people any more than I do."

"Wait, really?" Opal said, surprised. "I've never had my wand act that way. I mean, I remember Mr. Ollivander saying that the wand chose the wizard, but does that mean..." she trailed off, noticing Harry Potter standing next to her with a single eyebrow raised.

"Why don't you try to stun me," he offered. "I give you my express permission."

Harry kept his eyes focused on Frisk's wand movements, which didn't make it any easier to get them right. And after she'd finished them, she hadn't even managed the beam of light that was coloring the other side of the room, let alone stunning Harry. But what she had felt, even more than before, was the resistance. Frisk's wand just did not want to cast this particular charm.

Harry stood there, thinking for a moment, his eyes locked onto Frisk. "I wonder," he said finally. "Opal? May I stun you, as an experiment?"

Opal nodded, and went to stand near the cushion, so she wouldn't hurt herself if she fell. Harry performed the spell expertly, a red light jetting from his wand directly into Opal. Her eyes went blank, and she fell over into the cushions.

"And now," Harry said, motioning to Frisk. "Can we see how you take to the rennervate charm?" he asked.

"Oh, okay," Frisk said, turning to Opal. She turned, performing the charm, with the point of her wand focused on her friend. The contrast in the motion was almost shocking. Frisk felt like her wand was correcting the small errors in her form, and the red light that it emitted at its conclusion was bright enough to startle her. Opal climbed to her feet, staring at Frisk in amazement.

"You alright, Opal?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. I think I feel better than I did before you stunned me, Harry," Opal told him. "Did you do that on your first try, Frisk?"

Frisk nodded dumbly. She'd never felt her wand do that before in her life.

"I'm pretty sure that Hermione didn't successfully cast it on her first attempt," Harry said. He had lowered his voice, and was grinning. Frisk wasn't sure if that meant he was being serious or was joking and trying to make her feel better.

"Now, I understand that neither you or your wand really want to do it, but there may be a time when you need to stun someone to protect someone else. I understand it's unlikely, but that small chance is why we're here in the first place. Are you willing to keep trying?"

"I'd like to," Frisk said, but she didn't sound very convincing.

"Please do so," Harry said. "If I come back around and you're still having trouble with it, we'll figure something out, pull someone in so you can practice both spells."

"Before I forget," Frisk said, as Harry was ready to turn to observe some of the other members of the group, "I'd like to ask you something, when you have time, I mean. It doesn't need to be right now."

Harry's head tilted slightly. "Chara asked me that too. It's not the same thing, is it?"

Frisk blinked in surprise. "No? I don't think so."

"Alright. At the end of the session," Harry told her, then he really did go off and observe the rest of the class.

"Mind if I actually try next?" Opal asked wryly.

Frisk nodded, and they changed places. Over the next five or ten minutes, Opal stunned, and then revived, Frisk multiple times. To say she was better than Frisk was with the stunning spell was putting it mildly. The moment Opal's beam struck her, Frisk lost all consciousness.

But her friend's proficiency with rennervate didn't seem up to the same standard. Yes, Frisk could move afterward, but it was like waking up after a deep sleep. Every muscle was stiff, and it took effort to stand, but she could stand, so she supposed that was a sign that Opal was doing well.

But when they changed back to letting Frisk cast, she had no better luck getting her wand to perform the stunning spell then she did before. Opal even tried giving it a pep talk, telling it that Frisk wouldn't be able to practice reviving people if it wouldn't let her stun someone first.

"Did that help?" Harry asked, making Frisk jump again.

"No," Frisk admitted.

"Okay," Harry acknowledged. He looked around. "Hey, Cho? Could you and Marietta come over here, please?" he asked the next pair over.

Frisk looked up curiously as the other two girls came over at Harry's request. Cho was a taller girl with dark hair and eyes, with features that suggested an Asian heritage. Marietta was slightly shorter, with frizzy, muddy blond hair. Both of them wore the blue of Ravenclaw. "Yes, Harry?" Cho asked. There was a slight... shine to her voice that caused Frisk to widen her eyes. It really did seem that Cho was... interested in their instructor.

Harry ignored it, however, and instead explained Frisk's problems with the stunning spell, and asked if they'd be willing to make their training pair into a foursome. That if Frisk was to get any practice with the revival spell, she needed someone to be stunned.

"Sure, Harry, I can help with that," Cho told him. Marietta rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything.

It went more smoothly after that. The rest of them took it in turns stunning one another, with Frisk taking more than her share of revival spells.

"You're sure you've never done this before?" Cho asked her after Frisk's second go at waking her up. "I almost feel like I've had a good nap, not been awakened from being stunned." This earned a grumpy stare from Marietta. Opal looked at Cho's friend and shrugged.

"Just what you've seen here," Frisk said.

"I'm envious," Cho told her, but she was smiling.

Eventually, they were told to get their last casts out of their system, but before they could start heading back to their common rooms, Frisk interposed herself in front of Marietta, looking up at her with half-lidded eyes. "Marietta, are you doing okay? Here, I mean?" she asked.

Marietta just gave her a flat look, and didn't actually answer.

"Marietta's nervous because her mother works for the ministry," Cho told her quietly. "She was ordered explicitly not to join any unauthorized groups, let alone any 'illegal' defense learning groups."

"Then why are you here?" Frisk asked. She kept her voice low and even. She didn't want to give anyone, especially not Opal, a chance to go on a diatribe about how what they were doing was necessary. "You don't have to be."

Marietta's eyes bored into Frisk's so hard and intensely that Frisk took a step back. "When I was in second year, I was having trouble in charms class. Bad enough that Professor Flitwick – my head of house - was discussing remedial lessons. Cho helped me study. Popular Cho Chang took time for me and helped get my scores up. I will never abandon her. Even if the rest of her false friends decided she was too much after..." Marietta looked at Cho and let that sentence drop. "Cho is my friend. Until the end."

That... that made a lot of sense. "Okay," Frisk said, giving her a soft smile. "I can understand that."

"Dreemurs!" Harry shouted above the noise. "Hermione's going to escort you back to the Gryffindor common room now. I know you wanted to ask me something, we'll do it there." And with that, the four of them headed out of the door, and back down the hallway toward the Portrait of the Fat Lady.

"There was still a pretty large group in there," Chara noted. "We might as well get started on our homework.

The other two nodded. Asriel pulled out a star chart, while Frisk withdrew a roll of parchment and started work on her potion essay. It had been one of the simplest potions she'd had to brew in some time, which probably was another one of the reasons it was considered a poison.

She was so focused on her work that she didn't see Harry pull up a seat at the Dreemur's table. "Hey," he said. He sounded tired, but had a wide, satisfied, smile on his face. "So what did you want to ask me about?"

"I actually wanted to talk about resolving conflicts without violence," Frisk said. She saw her sister rapidly shutting her mouth and felt embarrassed. "Oh, uh, sorry, Chara."

"Isn't that what we get in Umbridge's actual class?" Harry asked, his smile disappearing. "I don't know about that, Frisk," He said.

"But we don't have a chance to practice anything we read," Frisk replied. She looked at Harry's growing scowl and decided to take a different tack. "There's good ideas in 'Defensive Magical Theory', but the book portrays them terribly. I'm not saying what we're doing is wrong, Harry, but I think it would be good if we talked about the appropriate times to use our wands, and when not to. I think there's certain people who need to hear something like that." She gave a meaningful look at the back of Cormac McLaggen's head. He wasn't actually a member of the DA, but it helped get Frisk's point across.

Harry's smile didn't reappear, but he looked more thoughtful then he had when Frisk started. "Let me talk it over with a few people. Maybe you do have a point," he conceded. "Maybe you can have some time to talk at the end of one of the sessions."

Frisk smiled. "Thanks Harry," she told him, then turned to Chara. "I'm sorry for interrupting, Chara, what did you want to ask?"

"Frisk, back after... that night..." she asked, her voice wavering for a moment, "You said the patronous charm protected against dementors, right?"

"It does," Harry answered for her.

"And... uh... you know how to cast it?" Chara asked. "That was what..." she stopped herself. "You know how to cast it?" she repeated.

Harry nodded a second time. "I do. Professor Lupin taught me two years ago. It wasn't easy."

"Dementors came for us near our home too," Chara said, and Frisk saw Harry's eyes widen in realization or remembrance. She felt her own face pale at the memory of the incident.

"I've had my own nightmares about that night," Asriel said.

"Frisk... you and your mother testified that at my trial," he acknowledged.

"Can you teach us that charm?" Chara asked. "Please?" she asked, and Frisk could hear the desperation.