The first Saturday of October dawned bright and windy. Hermione, Harry, and Ron wound their way down the beaten path towards Hogsmeade village, grateful for an escape from the oppressive atmosphere inside the castle. The lightened mood was catching; before and behind them, other groups of students chatted happily and smiled easily as they walked across the rolling hills. Had it really only been a month since the term began? Judging strictly by the amount of homework she'd completed already, Hermione wouldn't be surprised to find that Christmas was just around the corner.
Half-listening to Harry and Ron chat about the increased frequency and intensity of the Gryffindor team's training sessions, she inhaled deeply, allowing the crisp air to fill her lungs to the point of pain. With the wind whipping at her hair and her cheeks pinched pink by the cold, she felt more relaxed than she had in ages. The prospect of an entire weekend free from classes and Umbridge didn't hurt, either.
For every day that Umbridge spent ruling Hogwarts with a heavy hand, her presence grew over the castle like a great, looming shadow. Only the common rooms were safe from her watch, and it was only a matter of time before she forced her way into those, too. Umbridge had made it abundantly clear that discipline could be meted out for even the smallest of infractions, and any mention of a certain dark wizard was enough to earn a week's worth of detentions. After word spread of her unusual punishment methods, no one was eager to test that limit. Even Fred and George kept their antics to a minimum, too preoccupied with testing their inventions anyway, and Peeves hadn't been spotted bouncing through the halls in over a week.
Hermione had never seen the school looking so orderly. It left little to do for the prefects, but at the cost of a heavy undercurrent of fear and trepidation.
The Inquisitorial Squad still found ways to keep busy. With little need to enforce Umbridge's enormous list of rules, many abused their power by blackmailing their peers instead. Montague had been overheard "requesting" that a fellow seventh-year from Ravenclaw complete his Alchemy homework for him, or Ravenclaw might find their hourglass emptied of sapphires in the morning. Millicent Bulstrode had scared a Hufflepuff third year so badly with threats of detention that Professor Sprout had actually had to fetch the girl herself out of the girls' lavatory.
During one of their prefect patrols, Hermione and Neville had run into a sniggering Crabbe, who tried to refuse their entrance into the Potions corridor by claiming that it was a "Mudblood-and-Blood-Traitor-free" area. One look at Neville's face had Hermione lunging for his wand arm just in time. Goyle had rounded the corner ahead, drawing his own wand and coming to stand menacingly at Crabbe's side. Neville, to his credit, didn't back down, but his arm had trembled slightly in her grip.
In a surprising turn of events, Goyle had given Hermione a rather strange look before turning to Crabbe to suggest that they go find Malfoy, who'd promised to help correct their Charms essays. Sneering nastily, Crabbe allowed Goyle to lead him away, but not before taking another fifty points from Gryffindor for his trouble. Hermione wasn't surprised later to see the Slytherin hourglass piled generously with emeralds compared to the handful of gems in each of the others.
Hermione loosened her scarf slightly as they crested the last hill to the village entrance. At the top, she paused to glance around wistfully at the bustling little shops and the High Street packed with people. It felt strange that Hogsmeade should remain the same when Hogwarts was so vastly different.
"Three Broomsticks?" Ron shouted over the fierce wind, interrupting her reverie.
"Let's," Hermione agreed aloud, while Harry nodded fervently.
Pushing into the crowded pub, a glint of gold immediately alerted her to Malfoy's presence. He was seated in the far corner with a familiar group of Slytherins, including Theo and Pansy. His eyes flicked to her and back so fast that she couldn't be sure he'd noticed her arrival. Not that it would change anything if he had.
They hadn't arranged another meeting since Malfoy had practically run away from their last one. In reality, it was becoming difficult to coordinate their busy schedules, but Hermione couldn't help but take it a bit personally. On top of scheduling, there was the small matter of secrecy to consider; Harry and Ron now knew where she was going, but it would be disastrous if anyone else found out. An increasingly large part of Hermione wondered if Malfoy wasn't sorry for all of these highly convenient excuses to get out of meeting with her.
Ron must have noticed the group in the corner, too. He seemed to subconsciously stand up a little straighter and roll his shoulders back, all while studiously avoiding looking anywhere in the vicinity.
Harry's attention was in the opposite direction, where Cho Chang currently sat hand-in-hand with Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw seventh year from the Muggleborn class.
"Does it bother you?" Hermione asked him quickly. "We can try somewhere else. I've heard the Hog's Head—"
"No," he cut in, shaking his head. "It's fine. Really, Hermione," he added at her sceptical look. "It doesn't bother me like I thought it would."
She shrugged, leading the way to a table with a view of the High Street.
For once, Ron managed not to stammer when Rosmerta arrived with their food and butterbeers. Hermione sipped from her tankard gratefully, relishing the warmth now seeping into her veins. Cold butterbeer was a treat, but hot butterbeer was heaven sent.
She set her mug down to find Harry and Ron both grinning at her.
"What?" she asked, self-consciously looking down at her jumper to see if she'd dribbled any liquid down the front.
Snickering, Ron pointed to his upper lip with a significant look at her own.
She quickly wiped the back of her hand across her lips, feeling her cheeks heat when a thick layer of foam came off with it.
Harry and Ron laughed — not unkindly, but it still rankled.
"Oh, bugger off," she said, bestowing them each a disgruntled look. They only laughed harder.
Her blush deepened when out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed Malfoy smirking at apparently nothing.
Well, let it be known that she hadn't wanted to use this.
She levelled Ron with a flat look. "I saw you carrying Pansy's bag up to Divination the other day."
The mirth on Ron's face died away instantly, to be replaced by a flush up to his hairline. Brimming with satisfaction, she flashed him a tight smile.
Harry's eyes popped as his head swivelled to Ron. "That's why you were late? You said you forgot something at lunch!"
Ron grunted sourly. "I did. I forgot Parkinson said if I didn't bring her bag along, she'd stick me on laundry service with the house-elves for a week."
Hermione snorted softly. "Ignoring her isn't working this time?"
"No," Ron moaned, dropping his head into his hands. "Now that she's got this Inquisitorial shite to hold over me, she can just demand I do things for her or put me in detention. What did I ever do to her?"
"Oh, I dunno," Harry said, smirking, "you did shout at her a lot last year—"
"And throw a stink pellet in her potion," Hermione added helpfully.
"—And I'm pretty sure you called her ugly to her face on more than one occasion—"
Ron groaned, pushing his hands roughly through his hair as he looked up at them. "Yeah, well, she's not exactly a bundle of fairy lights herself, is she?"
"Nope," Harry said, popping a chip into his mouth, "but she really seems to have it out for you."
"Something's going to work," Ron mumbled, more to himself than to Harry or Hermione. "I'll figure it out and then she's going to regret it. Just you wait."
While Ron continued muttering under his breath, Hermione noticed Harry's eyes dart over again to where Cho and Roger were getting cosy on one side of the table. She quickly changed the subject.
"Harry, what do you think about taking up like we did last year, teaching ourselves useful spells? Seems especially important now that we don't even have Defence Against the Dark Arts class. For all his faults, at least we actually learned a thing or two from Crouch."
Her distraction worked. Harry swiftly turned his attention back to her, wrinkling his nose.
"Faults? That's one way to put it. I'd happily forget every lesson he taught if it meant Voldemort stayed dead, but…" he paused, brows furrowed in thought, "you're right. Why haven't we started back up already? And we already have a place to practise that Umbridge will never suspect."
It was Ron's turn to glare at Hermione. "Yeah, but will that cut into Hermione's time with Malfoy?"
Hermione shushed him urgently, glancing around quickly to make sure he hadn't been overheard. "Ron! You can't go shouting that about — it's supposed to be a secret, you numpty."
He smiled a toothy smile, looking smug. She rolled her eyes, calling it even.
"Anyway," Harry said exaggeratedly with pointed looks at the pair of them, "do you still have that list, Hermione?"
She nodded. "I do. We covered a lot of it last year, but there are still plenty of advanced offensive spells we haven't tried—"
"What's this about learning advanced offensive magic?" Ginny broke in, appearing suddenly and attempting to slide in on the bench beside Ron. "Budge up, Ron, would you?"
Ron scooted closer to Harry with an irritated grunt, while Hermione made room for Luna, who followed right behind Ginny.
Ginny shrugged at Ron's vexed look. "Everywhere else is full."
"Hello everyone," Luna said dreamily, looking off somewhere above Harry's head.
"So?" Ginny prompted again. "Are we finally fighting back against the pink toad?"
Hermione traded brief looks with Harry and Ron, before deciding it was best to simply brush it off.
"No, that's not exactly what—" she began, when Harry cut in.
"Actually… why not?" he asked, meeting Hermione's eyes. "What if this is how we fight back? The Ministry wants us helpless, and nobody else is going to step up and teach us how to defend ourselves. What if we started a class of our own? Open up our training sessions to everyone else?"
Ron looked thoughtful. "Not everyone, mate," he added after a moment. "Especially not Slytherins or anyone else who might report back to Umbridge."
"Right," Harry said with a nod. For Ginny's and Luna's benefit, he briefly explained their training sessions over the last year, part in preparation for the Triwizard Tournament and part in preparation for facing a potentially not-quite-dead Dark wizard.
Ginny perked up, an eager grin spreading across her face. Luna was now watching Harry closely, her gaze startlingly intense as she gave him her full attention.
While Harry talked, Hermione twisted her hands in her lap, thinking of all the ways this could go wrong.
Ron noticed her worried expression. "What is it? You have that 'we-could-all-have-been-killed-or-worse-expelled' sort of look again."
She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Midnight duels, honestly," she scoffed under her breath, recalling incident that prompted the words she'd never live down. Harry and Ron both fought a smile.
She crossed her arms over her chest and spoke up. "And it's not that I don't want to learn, or even that I care about going against Umbridge really, it's only… McGonagall told me we needed to be more careful. That we can't afford to let the Ministry have any more reason to suspect the existence of the Order, and that we mustn't upset the balance anymore in their favour. Plus, we'd all likely be put in detention for the rest of the year if Umbridge found out, or worse, expelled."
"Then we'll just have to make sure we don't get caught, won't we?" Harry said with a smirk.
She sniffed. "I suppose…"
Ron made a noise of impatience.
"Oh, come on, Hermione. You're the one who stressed all last year how important it was," he countered. "More important than school work and games, wasn't it?"
He had her there. Hermione's brows shot up in surprise to find that he'd considered her words meaningful enough to remember.
Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Luna were all watching her, awaiting the verdict.
"Fine," she finally agreed, and they broke out in smiles. She held up an admonitory finger.
"But we have to be careful about determining who we can trust — Umbridge will be suspicious if she sees us going around and asking people if they'd like to join some kind of secret Defence Against the Dark Arts group. I also think we should keep it small at first, at least until we work out a way to contact everyone for meetings. It'll be difficult enough to schedule a time to meet when it's just the five of us. Imagine how much worse it'll be when we have people from all different Houses, too."
"I'm a Ravenclaw," Luna piped up.
"Um, yes… but still. Deal?" Hermione asked, looking around the table.
"Deal," Ron and Harry chorused.
"Alright," Ginny said, rubbing her palms together, "let's start tomorrow night?"
Hermione shook her head. "Can't. I've got prefect patrols with Neville."
"How about Monday?" Luna suggested.
"Yeah, we don't have Quidditch that night," Harry agreed quickly, "so it's on the seventh floor—"
"Harry," Hermione broke in, "don't you have your lessons with Snape on Monday evenings?"
Harry paused, his face twisting in a curious expression. "Oh, erm… right. Yeah. So Tuesday then?" Everyone else nodded. "Here's how to get in…"
With plans settled for their first meeting, Hermione and the others gathered their belongings and filed out from behind the table. By the time she remembered to glance back into the opposite corner of the pub, Malfoy and the other Slytherins were gone.
She thought mournfully about another evening now unavailable for her next lesson with Malfoy (all of these clandestine meetings were really starting to pile up). And now that Quidditch season was in full-swing, Malfoy's training schedule had increased drastically, same as Harry's and Ron's. At this rate, they really would have to stop meeting altogether. Her heart sank at the possibility.
Ginny and Luna split off outside the pub, intending to head back to the castle. Hermione trailed behind Harry and Ron as they ducked into several shops, imbibing the pleasant atmosphere of the village. After becoming engrossed in a particularly riveting text about curses and countercurses, Hermione lingered behind in Tomes & Scrolls, promising to catch up with the boys in Zonko's.
The cosy, out-of-the-way bookshop was peaceful with its quiet hum of patrons and its powerful aroma of old ink and paper, and Hermione soon lost track of time. She glanced at her watch, surprised to find it was already half-past four, and stood from where she'd settled on the floor, right in the middle of the aisle. Dusting off her robes, she checked her purse for the amount required to purchase the book; after all, she'd already read a good quarter of it.
Hermione turned the corner of the aisle, only to immediately walk into Cedric Diggory. And right beside him, quickly moving his hand away from Cedric's, was none other than Blaise Zabini.
"Oh, excuse me, I am so sorry," she said, stepping back hurriedly.
Even slightly dishevelled, Cedric looked handsome as ever in well-cut robes of pale yellow. Regaining his bearings, he smiled at her. "That's quite alright — you have my apologies, as well. Hermione, isn't it?"
Her eyes dropped to follow the motion of Cedric's hand, previously still outstretched towards Zabini, but now resting back at his side. Zabini himself was looking away loftily from both of them, as if pretending she didn't exist. His cheeks held the faintest tinge of pink.
"Um… yes. That's right," she finally replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her tongue felt like cotton as she addressed two of the arguably fittest boys in the entire school. "And you're Cedric? Silly question. Of course I know you're Cedric. Cedric Diggory. I forgot you were still at Hogwarts is all, I'd have bet anything you'd be Head Boy—" she cut off, horrified at herself for saying such a thing.
"Um, how are you?" she finished lamely, stomach curdling with embarrassment.
Inwardly, Hermione cursed her stupid, babbling tongue, but Cedric's kind smile never faltered.
"Brilliant, thank you," he said, before turning his palms up in a sympathetic gesture. "You weren't totally wrong — Dumbledore actually offered me Head Boy, but I turned it down before the start of the year. I've been quite busy studying for N.E.W.T.s, you see, and with the tournament last year… well, let's just say I needed a break. And yourself? Staying out of the lake, I hope?" he finished with a wink.
"Wha— Oh, yes. No more adventures with the Merpeople for me, I'm afraid."
She glanced at Zabini, who was still determinedly looking in the other direction, and let out a nervous chuckle.
"Well," she began, "unfortunately I need to get going, but it was wonderful to see you again." She hefted the book in her arms by way of explanation. "Just need to stop by the till and I'll be on my way. Do take care." She finally managed to return Cedric's smile.
"Yeah, absolutely," Cedric said easily. "See you around, Hermione."
With a friendly nod, Hermione moved around the pair quickly, beelining for the cashier's desk. She paid for her new book and exited the shop, wondering where to go next. Would Harry and Ron still be in Zonko's, or had they decided to head back to the castle on their own? She was saved from making a decision when Harry called out her name.
"Hermione, over here!"
She found them just ahead, already walking in her direction.
"We waited outside of Zonko's," Ron explained, "but when you never showed up we figured we'd better come and find you. Everyone else has already gone back."
"Ah, sorry, I lost track of the time," she replied, falling into step with Harry and Ron as they made for the path back to Hogwarts.
Ron laughed. "Of course you did. Nice to know some things never change, eh?"
She answered with a guilty smile.
As they walked, Hermione stole a final glance back at the bookshop. She was glad for Zabini's sake that all of his friends were on the Inquisitorial Squad; even if he ended up late for dinner, he'd almost certainly not face any repercussions.
Zabini eventually caught up with her the next evening on her way to the prefect's lounge to meet Neville.
"Granger."
She turned slowly, knowing for certain what this was about.
"Yes?"
Motioning her curtly to the side of the corridor, he lifted the corner of a tapestry to reveal a small alcove in the wall.
He raised his brows when she hesitated. "A quick word, if you please?"
His voice was smooth, but his tone said it wasn't a request.
She entered cautiously, finding only a small nook within the castle walls and an even smaller window inside overlooking the greenhouses.
Zabini followed her, letting the tapestry fall back into place. She waited for him to speak, but he only folded his hands at his waist, studying the glass structures below.
"Well?" Hermione prompted.
He finally looked at her, face impassive but dark eyes boring down into her soul.
"It was a pleasant day in the village yesterday, was it not?" he asked, the intensity of his question completely at odds with the content.
She gaped at him. "Um… yes. I suppose it was."
"A good day to spend with friends," he said.
"Right…" she said slowly.
Mouth tightening briefly, he spoke again. "And perhaps pick up a new book or two."
"I don't… okay?"
"I was nearly in the year above, you know," he said. "My birthday is on the second of September. Hogwarts doesn't make exceptions, though."
"Happy belated birthday, then — did you really bring me here to make small talk?"
Irritation flashed across his features, quickly replaced by smooth indifference. He cleared his throat.
"I only thought you might need clarification on a few matters. In Tomes & Scrolls yesterday, Cedric and I… well, we were…"
Suddenly, Hermione understood his plight. "Were two people enjoying a day off in Hogsmeade, same as everyone else?" she finished for him.
"Yes," Zabini replied, watching her warily, "but you see, he had a bit of a rough time with the tournament last year, needed a friend so to speak, and then I was in a bit of a tight spot in Charms, so we—"
She cut him off, saving him the need to elaborate. "It sounds like you are both very lucky to have such good friends. I'm not sure that there is anything requiring further explanation? Certainly nothing worth mentioning to anyone else, in my opinion."
He blinked several times before speaking. "If you say so."
"I do," she said firmly. "Unfortunately, I really must be going, I'm on patrol this evening and Neville will be waiting for me. If you'll excuse me?"
She gave a pointed look at the tapestry, which he was currently blocking with his lithe frame. He stepped aside fluidly, watching her go with a mixture of relief and disbelief.
Pushing the fabric to the side, she immediately spotted Malfoy and Daphne coming towards her from halfway down the corridor.
Daphne waved genially and Hermione returned it, stepping forward out of the alcove. Malfoy gave her a perfunctory nod before grinding to a complete halt, eyes narrowing into slits as he looked at something behind her. Hermione glanced back to see Zabini already pushing the tapestry aside. She barely repressed a sigh.
"Zabini," Malfoy said coolly.
"Draco," Zabini replied evenly, stepping out behind Hermione. He raised a haughty brow, but his face remained otherwise expressionless. Without another word, he swept off down the corridor, disappearing around the next corner.
Malfoy's eyes found Hermione's, but it was Daphne who spoke.
"Hermione, I didn't realise you knew Blaise," she said cheerfully.
Hermione started, tearing her gaze away from Malfoy's to turn to Daphne. "Oh, I don't really. We only recently crossed paths."
Daphne shrugged lightly. "Never mind, then. By the way, Neville is looking for you, I think he's already headed to the North Tower."
Hermione glanced at Malfoy again, who was now frowning at the patch of wall behind her. "Right. Thanks Daphne, I'll see you in class tomorrow."
She hurried down the corridor, looking back over her shoulder once to see Malfoy with his head behind the tapestry, peering into the alcove.
"Did you know this was here?" she heard him ask Daphne.
Daphne's answer was lost as Hermione started up the next staircase.
Finding Neville near the Divination classroom, Hermione apologised profusely for being late.
He assured her it was no problem at all. "Honestly, I'm usually really early just because I like meeting with everyone in the lounge," he said. "Despite all of the horrible things this year, it feels like we're still really a part of something as prefects, you know?"
Her heart twisted at his words. That combined with the guilt over her tardiness decided her. As they walked, she quietly told him about the plan that she, Harry, and Ron had hatched just yesterday about meeting to secretly practise Defence Against the Dark Arts.
"Would you be interested in joining us?" she asked. "I won't lie — it's a risk. If we're caught, Umbridge would likely expel us."
Neville didn't even hesitate.
"Absolutely, count me in," he said, nodding fervently. "Even if Umbridge won't let us talk about it, there's no use pretending You-Know-Who isn't back. We have to take matters into our own hands. With Dumbledore gone, even Hogwarts won't be safe from him soon."
If there had still been any hesitation within her over the potential for expulsion, Neville's words obliterated it.
As if she already knew what they were up to, suddenly, Umbridge was everywhere. In classes, in the corridors, even present for most meals in the Great Hall. It made for a quiet repast.
Somewhat surprisingly, Umbridge herself was beginning to look a little frazzled. Her mousy hair was in disarray more often than not, and she had a rather haggard look around her eyes. It would serve her right if she had taken on more than she could handle.
Hermione was pleased to see many of their professors taking Umbridge's demands literally, too; Umbridge was being pulled all over the castle to deal with simple matters like sticky doorknobs or overflowing toilets, with the professors citing that they hadn't wanted to "overstep their authority". With Umbridge distracted, hopefully tiny things like secret Defence Against the Dark Arts groups would slip through the cracks.
Malfoy pulled the same trick that Hermione had used to keep her behind in Arithmancy on Tuesday afternoon.
"Yes?" she asked, smirking and letting her bag drop back to the floor.
"Why were you with Zabini the other day?"
She blinked once at his directness, nails digging furrows into her palms while she searched for a satisfactory response.
"I needed to clarify a simple matter with him. It was nothing. Really."
"Okay," he said, looking doubtful. He stood up to leave.
"Do you want to meet in the Room tomorrow evening?" she asked quickly. "I think I'm ready to try a more advanced method."
He paused before shaking his head. "I've got Quidditch training tomorrow and a Squad meeting the day after. Maybe another time, yeah?"
Hermione agreed half-heartedly, thinking that time was unlikely to come soon, if at all.
She, Harry, and Ron ate dinner quickly, eager to get up to the seventh floor for their first training session. Hermione checked her bag one last time, making sure she had the correct reference texts to correspond with her spell list, as well as the jinxed roll of parchment she'd devised after a quick trip to the library over lunch.
"Wow," Ginny said, looking around at the cavernous room as she entered behind Luna. It looked much the same as it had the first time Harry had willed it into existence, outfitted with flickering torches and several large bookshelves. Almost immediately, Fred, George, and Lee came in next.
Lee whistled. "This place is really something, isn't it?"
"Ginny," Hermione whispered urgently. "I thought we were keeping it small?"
Ginny shrugged, not bothering to keep her voice down. "Just a few extras. We know we can trust them. Besides, Fred and George are counting this as payback for helping out with my Yule Ball dress."
Another voice suddenly rang through the chamber. "Hope I'm not late!" Neville entered, looking around in awe. "Wow, Hermione, this place is even better than you described."
Ginny raised an impish brow at her. Hermione sniffed, keeping her mouth shut.
Ron was the first to grab a nearby cushion and position it in the middle of the floor, making himself comfortable. Everyone else soon followed suit, forming a loose circle on the ground.
After a few moments of silence where everyone looked to someone else to begin, Hermione decided to lead the charge.
"Alright. You all know why we're here, so I'll just get to the point," she said. "We need to learn how to defend ourselves, and it's not going to happen unless we do something about it." Everyone nodded along. "First things first, I think we should elect a 'teacher' to lead our sessions, and I think that teacher should be Harry."
Harry's head whipped around. "Me?" he asked incredulously.
She nodded seriously. "Yes. You're the one who's already faced him, and no less than three separate times. You took down three Death Eaters, fully-trained wizards, when you escaped from him last year. You got through the Triwizard Tournament, facing dragons and the Great Lake. And let's not forget killing the basilisk second year."
Harry flushed under everyone's stares. "That was with a sword," he mumbled. "And I had a lot of help with everything else—"
"No matter," she replied firmly, overriding his feeble excuses. "You've always excelled at Defence Against the Dark Arts, and you're the only one of us with even a little bit of experience outside of the classroom."
"I agree," Ron said immediately. "It should be Harry."
Hermione threw him a grateful look.
"Seems unnecessary," George said lightly, "but shall we take a vote on it? All in favour of Harry?"
"Aye!" Fred shouted, his hand shooting into the air. Everyone else copied him except Harry, whose expression looked torn between amusement and exasperation.
"The ayes have it," George said solemnly, standing to place a hand over his heart and wearing a sombre expression. "I, George Gideon Weasley, do so pledge my undying fealty to Harry The-Boy-Who-Lived-and-Lived-and-Lived Potter, and if I should displease him, may the mighty Merlin smite me—"
Snorting loudly, Lee kicked him in the shin. "Shut up, Weasley."
Everyone laughed, but Luna's high-pitched giggle soared above the rest.
George sat down wearing a smirk.
"Alright," Hermione called out, regrouping everyone's focus. "It's decided then."
"Don't I get a say?" Harry grumbled despite the fact that he wore a smile.
"Nope," Ron said, lips popping.
Hermione rummaged through her bag, withdrawing the next order of business. "I took the liberty of drawing up some assurances. Given the current… climate… of the school, I think we should all sign this parchment here, agreeing that we're a part of this group and that we will do everything in our power to keep Umbridge from finding out what we're doing. I trust all of you, but if we're going to invite anyone else, it's best to take certain precautions. Fair warning, if anyone lets it slip to her, we'll all know who."
She'd really wanted to put some sort of modified Tongue-Tying Curse on the parchment to physically prevent any of them from revealing the group's existence to Umbridge, but there hadn't been time to work it out. In any case, if they planned to invite others to participate, they'd need to be able to talk about it in the first place.
In a show of good faith, Hermione took out a quill and signed the parchment first with a flourish. She passed it to Luna next, who smiled happily while adding her name and handed it to Ginny. It went all the way around the circle until everyone's name was present.
While Hermione used a Drying Charm over the ink, Luna spoke up.
"What are we going to call ourselves?"
"What do you mean?" Neville asked.
As she leaned in, the locket on Luna's chest swung forward, glittering gold in the torchlight through chinks in the purple paint. "Well," she said breezily, "every club or society has a name. We should, too. It would help to be able to reference our lessons without saying it outright."
It was quiet while everyone thought. To the side, Hermione noticed Ginny leaning in slightly towards Luna, her gaze caught on Luna's necklace.
Hermione tilted her head, thoroughly distracted by the position. Had she missed something between them before? She'd known about Ginny's crush on Harry for forever, but Ginny had been awfully comfortable around Harry this year compared to the last three years at Hogwarts. Even as recently as last year she'd sometimes had trouble speaking if Harry was in the same room. Hermione had attributed her newfound confidence to time and familiarity, but perhaps…
"How about the Anti-Umbridge Club?" Lee suggested.
"Nah, nothing that makes me think of that old hag more often than I can help it," Fred retorted. "Unless it involves dropping her off a tower somewhere."
George sniggered appreciatively.
"Maybe something like the Defence Alliance… D.A. for short?" Neville asked.
Ginny finally tore her gaze away from Luna, her brows furrowed in thought. "I like the idea of initials, but what about the P.A. instead? For Potter's Alliance? After all, we're all here because we believe Harry."
She smiled so brightly at Harry that Hermione immediately reconsidered her previous notion.
Everyone looked to Harry, who nodded slowly. "Okay… but it should also stand for the Phoenix Alliance. Whether they'll admit it or not, the Order needs me, needs us, and they're going to find us more prepared than they ever expected."
Fred toasted an imaginary glass. "Hear, hear!"
Luna clapped, her eyes wide with excitement. "P.A. it is!"
With the name decided, everyone was eager to get on with the first lesson. Hermione rolled up the parchment and stuck it carefully in her bag. She'd have to hide it somewhere safe; it wouldn't do to be discovered because she'd been careless.
Harry, who hadn't been prepared to lead the lesson, wisely suggested that they start with the basics. He had Hermione and Ron take turns helping him demonstrate disarming and stunning spells, reminding everyone else that he had used those spells to escape from Voldemort before. The reminder was unnecessary; not even Fred, George, or Lee, the oldest of the group, had complaints about starting with a refresher on simple spells. Within minutes, everyone was paired up and practising on their own while Harry walked around and offered assistance if requested.
It went even better than Hermione had expected. It felt good to finally be doing something useful, instead of just fighting against that which wasn't. They got so caught up with training that curfew came and went over half an hour before anyone noticed. Thankfully, Harry had the foresight to bring the Marauder's Map along, and they used it to time Luna's departure to Ravenclaw Tower before the rest of them left in small groups for Gryffindor Tower.
The next day, Harry informed Hermione and Ron over breakfast that he'd got the idea to contact Sirius again with the mirror after their first P.A. meeting. Sirius assured him there was little to report; whatever had made Voldemort so happy all those weeks ago hadn't resulted in anything of importance, and whatever was behind that door in the Ministry was still guarded and safe. If the Order had made any discoveries beyond that, they weren't sharing. Voldemort remained in the shadows, content to let everyone believe he was a tired ghost story drudged up by Harry and Dumbledore.
Grinning broadly, Harry leaned in. "Sirius did have one bit of good news, though."
"Yeah?" Ron asked. "What's that?"
"Hagrid's back," Harry finished dramatically.
Hermione frowned in confusion. "He is? Wouldn't we have seen him by now?"
"He's not at the school," Harry explained. "He's hiding out in the Mountains somewhere as part of his mission for the Order. Maybe even the cave that Sirius used last year — we should check over the next Hogsmeade weekend if he still hasn't returned. Sirius couldn't say how long he's going to stay away, but at least we know he's safe."
"That is a relief," Hermione said, smiling over her water goblet. "I hope he won't wait too long to come back, though. Umbridge would probably love an excuse to get rid of him. Lavender told me Umbridge actually threatened Trelawney with dismissal last week, but Umbridge seems to have forgotten to act on it."
Ron gestured with a forkful of scrambled eggs. "I thought you'd be happy to see the back of her."
Hermione scoffed. "Don't be silly, Ron. I'm not going to root for the woman to lose her job, even if she is an old fraud…"
Ron shrugged.
When they arrived for their combined Conduct and Decorum lesson that weekend, it was to find all of the House tables pushed to the side of the Hall and an unfamiliar woman on the dais. Hermione's heart immediately sank at the sight, for she knew what was about to happen. The gramophone sitting in the corner practically confirmed it.
Her intuition was as good as ever; the mysterious woman (Frau Tanzen, as it so happened) wasted no time in pairing them off. They would begin learning the steps to a traditional slow waltz. Knowing better than to complain aloud, a collective shudder ran throughout the room.
Hermione was relieved to be paired off with Ron. At least they would look equally foolish, and she wouldn't feel as badly about the near-certainty of stepping on his toes. Harry was standing uncomfortably in front of Parvati, who was eyeing him with interest.
Hermione risked a glance across the room to see Malfoy standing next to Pansy, looking distinctly unhappy. Behind Pansy, Daphne was making small talk with Theo. Hermione grimaced and looked away.
After half an hour of instruction and a couple of clumsy first attempts, it was apparent that many of the Slytherins and a handful in other Houses had a distinct advantage when it came to formal dancing. Hermione and Ron had needed to quickly jump out of the way of Goyle and Millicent Bulstrode, who were cutting a path through everyone in a surprisingly adept display. Cedric Diggory was whirling Cho across the floor easily, causing Roger Davies to glower at the pair of them.
Hermione and Ron were far from the only ones struggling, though. Hannah Abbott had accidentally backed Seamus into the gramophone, knocking it clean over. Lavender had gone sprawling when Neville stepped forward at the wrong time, and was sporting the remnants of a bloody nose. Ron had done the same thing as Neville only moments later, but at least he'd had the reflexes to grab Hermione by the shoulders and keep her from landing on her face.
Frau Tanzen called a halt. She then looked around the room slowly, her gaze landing on Malfoy and Pansy.
"You two," she said briskly. "Up here, if you please. You appear to already be proficient at a simple waltz. I would like you to demonstrate the first part again, so that your classmates will see how it should look with a partner. The rest of you, to the walls, please."
Malfoy looked absolutely murderous at being called out. Scowling, he followed Pansy into the centre of the room while everyone else pulled back to the edges.
As Malfoy placed his hand on Pansy's waist, Hermione violently stamped out the spike of jealousy that razed through her. Beside her, Ron stiffened infinitesimally.
Frau Tanzen flicked her wand towards the gramophone, and Malfoy and Pansy began.
They moved in tandem, each performing their steps perfectly as they spun around the floor. Malfoy's expression relaxed into uncomplicated focus, and Pansy looked much the same. Their movements were crisp and clean, and every single one intentional. It was unfair, really, how graceful they looked together.
When they finished, Frau Tanzen clapped hard, and the rest of the class followed suit.
"Marvellous!" she said, still clapping long after everyone else. "Thank you for that most excellent demonstration. I shall be grateful to count on the both of you whenever I have need of another."
Malfoy's scowl returned in full force.
Just before class was dismissed, a sixth-year Hufflepuff finally worked up the courage to ask what most of the class had been thinking.
"Erm… how long will you be with us, Frau Tanzen?"
The guest professor smiled knowingly. "Why, for as long as it takes, I think."
This time, there was a collective groan around the room. Even Lavender and Parvati looked less than excited at the prospect of a repeat session.
With much of the class off to tend their injuries, Hermione counted herself lucky to have escaped with nothing more than a bruised toe or two. She, Harry, and Ron complained about their new circumstances all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, where they settled in for a long afternoon of playing catch-up on their homework. Truly, of all the useless things Umbridge had foisted upon them this year, learning to prance about while Voldemort secretly solidified his ranks had to be one of the worst.
Despite the sentiment, when Hermione dreamt later that night, it was of slow, intimate dances and impossibly beautiful white-blonde partners.