As they left Hagrid's cabin, Harry stoically ignored Draco's high-pitched "See you at practice, Pottykins!" amongst the whoops and catcalls of his fellow Slytherins.
"Its okay, Harry." Hermione whispered, but Harry merely sped up so that they soon left Draco and his entourage out of ear-shot. Herbology wasn't as bad, because they were indoors and could hardly say anything without Professor Sprout noticing. It didn't stop Malfoy from mimicking him and Angelina with Pansy every time the teacher had her back turned, however.
Harry was fuming by dinner time. He had almost forgotten about the team meeting, so when he stepped into the common room with Ron and Hermione he found the gathering of all of the players somewhat off-putting. He was in a foul mood. Angelina's temperament didn't seem to be any better. She was sitting cross-legged on the hearthrug, frowning angrily at a piece of parchment in her lap. Harry and Ron sat down next to Dean and Alicia Spinnet on one of the sofas, muttering to Hermione that they would see her at dinner. Dean leaned over to Harry and shook his head, his eyes on Angelina.
"She's been trying to figure out a practice schedule to give to Umbridge," he whispered.
Harry nodded, his eyes also on Angelina. There was another pause in which their captain sighed and rubbed her temples in frustration. When she finally addressed them again, she sounded a little more optimistic than she'd looked two seconds before, which Harry figured was more for the team's benefit than in earnest. "All right, then. We've got two drills coming up: one tomorrow morning after breakfast and one next Tuesday night after dinner. Everyone okay with that?"
There was a mumbled scattering of half-hearted agreement.
"What did Umbridge have to say?" Katie Bell wanted to know.
"She's gone and pulled one over on us." Angelina responded bitterly. "She's got Draco Malfoy and a few others helping her do some sort of review of all the teams." She went on to explain the so-called 'Ministry Standard of Conduct and Good Sportsmanship' to them, her tone darkening as she spoke. "It's some stupid code of conduct that all the organizations and teams have to abide by. It's got pretty severe consequences if the code is broken."
"She can get away with that?" Ron whispered to Harry.
"Of course she can," Harry muttered.
"That's rubbish, that is!" George Weasley raised his voice, his brother nodding in agreement. "Is there anything in that code about spiking a teacher's pumpkin juice with Gassy Goose?"
"Don't start, George." Angelina warned. "We've all got to do our best to behave-" (she looked at Harry for a second as she said this) "-and get through the practices without incident."
"So we can still play the match against Slytherin next Saturday, can't we?" Someone asked hopefully.
Angelina stood up. "If we can act civilized enough to convince Umbridge to let us."
"That's not likely with Malfoy hanging around." Ron spoke up. "He all but said he would make sure we don't get to play last period."
"Who else does she have helping her?" Harry wanted to know.
Angelina shrugged. "Zacharius Smith and some seventh year from Ravenclaw."
"Her little minions, I expect. I knew we couldn't trust that Smith kid as far as we could throw him…" Ron clenched his jaw angrily.
Harry sighed and ran a hand thoughtfully through his hair. "Zach may still be on our side. He doesn't fancy me much, but he wants to win the Quidditch Cup as much as anybody else."
"Yeah, but that's probably why he wouldn't want our team to play, Harry," Ron pressed. "He wants Hufflepuff to win and everyone knows that we'd shred them before they even came close to getting the Cup!"
"Even if Zach does try to sabotage us, or Malfoy, or anyone else, we can't let them." Angelina asserted again firmly. "Trust me, they'll use anything to get to us…" Her eyes definitely lingered on his that time, and Harry knew that she was talking about them. So Malfoy did say something to her, he thought resentfully. He wondered what this meant would happen (or not happen) between them now. He was in the middle of these thoughts when Alicia Spinnet cleared her throat.
"Um, well…since you say that Angelina…" Harry turned to look at his teammate, his throat closing slightly. Tell me she isn't going to ask what I think she is… Alicia looked for a moment as if she would chicken out, but regained her resolve and looked at Harry pointedly before addressing Angelina again. "I've heard some things."
"What 'things?'" Angelina's voice had taken on a hard edge that Harry recognized as a warning.
"Things about you, uh…sort of favoring one of the team members…in a kind of unfair way." Angelina opened her mouth to speak but Alicia quickly shook her head as if she hadn't meant any harm by what she was saying. Harry really wanted her to shut up. "Isn't it in the Standard of Good Conduct and Sportsmanship or whatever it's called? Dating among team members being forbidden?"
"Who'd you hear that from?" Harry asked, despite himself.
Alicia hesitated, looking a bit discouraged, but sighed and muttered, "Pansy Parkinson…"
Ron screwed up his face at Alicia as if she'd suddenly morphed into a giant turkey. "You must be joking!"
The whole team rounded on him as if he were the one Alicia had been suggesting that Angelina favored. Katie Bell clicked her tongue impatiently and crossed her arms, glaring at Ron. "She's not joking, Ron. This is serious."
"Well I'm just saying that it's a rumor that's all!"
"Pansy Parkinson's head is so full of hot air that she could fly to the moon if she concentrated hard enough," Fred quipped.
Harry was glad to hear Ron and Fred stand up for him. He no longer suspected the twins of spreading the news about Angelina and him—they looked positively scandalized.
The team argued for a further ten minutes, everyone putting in their two cents worth on what they thought was going on. Angelina kept insisting that the only thing that could save them was if they played by Umbridge's rules. Harry found this way of thinking somewhat irritating, but couldn't say that he totally disagreed. Defying Umbridge outright had gotten him nowhere so far. If they acted like they were doing everything she wanted on the surface, it might make things easier for them to carry on their collective resistance in secret.
When the meeting was adjourned, Harry wasted no time telling Ron to go on to dinner without him. He was relieved that Angelina had the same idea; she was taking extra long to peruse her notebook while the others filed out of the common room still buzzing amongst themselves. After the last few Gryffindors ambled through the portrait hole, Harry got up from the sofa and went to sit next to Angelina on the hearthrug. She didn't look at him at first, but instead remained staring intently at her notebook. Harry knew there was nothing very engaging written on the parchment; she must've gone over the same few lines a hundred times. He hesitated for only a moment longer, feeling he ought to say something but not having the words ready.
"You're angry?" he asked finally, and a bit lamely he thought.
Angelina sighed and shook her head, her ponytail swinging to and fro gently. "I was hoodwinked. I can't believe I thought it would be so easy…" Harry watched her toss the notebook off of her lap with a frustrated grunt. "Ugh, I should've seen it coming."
"Nobody blames you…" He was doing a rotten job of consoling her. He didn't know what else to say.
"Oh no?" She looked at him finally, her eyes narrowing incredulously. "Alicia and Katie sounded like they were ready to vote on a new captain right then and there."
"They would never do that. They'd be stupid if they did. It was all just-" Harry crossed his legs under himself and leaned over to get closer to her. "-they were only trying to find out if what they heard was true."
"Yeah…" Angelina scoffed. "It wouldn't even be an issue if Malfoy hadn't…" she trailed off, her eyes avoiding his again.
Harry furrowed his brow inquisitively. She sounded as if she knew something he didn't. He didn't think she would tell him right away, so he decided to keep talking in hopes that hearing his side of things would convince her to confide in him.
"He and his stupid friends were going on about it in class today," he began grimly, narrowing his eyes. "They wouldn't stop making kissing noises and calling me 'Pottykins.' It was so hard to resist turning his head into a pincushion or something…" She chuckled half-heartedly and he went on. "I wish I knew that trick Moody used last year…I'd love to see him scurrying around in Goyle's pants again."
"It's my fault, Harry." Angelina looked at him rather miserably. "Draco caught me in the courtyard, um…"
"What?" Harry was rather intrigued to know what exactly she'd been doing that would lead Draco to the conclusion that she fancied him.
"I was drawing up diagrams, you know, for practice, and uh well I got a little distracted…" she looked more embarrassed now than anything else, and he had to suppress a curious grin. "I was doodling."
She seemed unwilling to elaborate. Harry cocked his head sideways and cast an innocent look in her direction. "Doodling what?" His slightly raised eyebrows emphasized the curiosity he was attempting to play down. What could she have been drawing that would tip off…? "Oh. You were drawing…us?" Harry sat there for a second, at a loss for words. He was probably blushing; he could feel his cheeks and ears growing hot. They sat for a few moments saying nothing, the Grandfather clock ticking away.
"I-I hadn't meant for him to see it," Angelina spoke up. "The sneaky little bastard. He acted so smug! I wanted to kill him!"
"Mmm, yeah…" Harry cleared his throat and nodded sympathetically, waiting until the happy grin he was trying to suppress subsided before he said anything else. "Don't worry about it, Angelina," and he gave her wrist a light brush with his fingers, feeling that spark light up within him again as she offered a half-hearted smile. "Come on."
Angelina looked at the clock and stood up. "So I guess the question is: are you mad at me?"
He shook his head, taking a second to gather his courage before he stood up and leaned over to kiss her. He mimicked her movements from last night, softly capturing her lips and releasing them. Harry didn't know what the hell he was doing, but it felt right. He half-expected her to rebuff him in some way, but when he looked down at his shoes shyly she took hold of his chin and brought his face back up to hers. He felt a rush of warm air zoom down his chest and into his stomach as her lips found his again and lingered for an enjoyably long beat.
"I'm starving!" She said when she released him.
Harry blinked, somewhat dazed, but recovered quickly and managed to make some sort of grunt in agreement. She didn't take his hand this time, but it felt no less thrilling to have her walk very closely to him as they made their way out of the common room and down to the Great Hall. They chatted a bit about their favorite international Quidditch teams among other things. Angelina's voice was deep yet very smooth; very straightforward most of them but just occasionally it rose girlishly or wavered emotionally as she spoke about different things. Harry mostly listened, finding enjoyment where their hands would brush together or the skin on their arms would touch. She smelled good…
When they made it down to dinner and took their usual seats, Harry ate in contented silence, ignoring the prodding looks he received from Ron and Hermione. He finished his mashed potatoes and roast chicken just in time, swallowing a huge helping right before the food on all the plates disappeared and everything was spotless again. Ron licked the remainder of the chocolate pudding from his fingers and burped loudly. "What took you so long, then?" He asked as the trio left their seats and joined the fray heading through the doors.
Harry shrugged vaguely, his eyes finding themselves attached to the back of Angelina's ponytail.
Hermione was looking at him with a shrewd smirk on her face, but said nothing. They spent the rest of the hours before they were to see Sirius studying. Harry tried without much result to focus and finish the essay Professor Snape had assigned him on Strengthening Solutions. Hermione kept one disapproving eye on the twins, who were showing off one of their latest inventions to a crowd of eager-looking underclassmen. She made a disgusted face at them as they projectile-vomited into buckets amongst the enthusiastic applause of their onlookers. Ron pretended for an impressive amount of time to be reading his Transfiguration textbook, but soon fell asleep.
When the twins finally finished their demonstration and collected the last of their profit, Harry was close to dozing off himself before Ron sat upright in his chair, gaping at the fireplace. "Sirius?"
Harry turned around quickly, his face already spreading into a happy grin, and saw Sirius's head sitting in the flames. He was also smiling broadly, a cheery gleam in his eyes that had nothing to do with the light from the fire. The three students, with Crookshanks slinking in between them, gathered around him on the hearthrug.
"How are you three doing?" Sirius asked cheerfully.
They all muttered separate answers. Harry's "Not so good…" was the loudest. Sirius frowned and Harry explained what was going on with Umbridge's loathsome decrees and the trouble with the team not being able to play. "She's making it impossible for us to do anything, let alone play Quidditch or-"
"Start secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?" Sirius's smile returned.
"How'd you know about that?" Ron asked, squinting suspiciously.
If Sirius had shoulders he would've shrugged. "You can't think you're totally on your own up here. The Order has placed people here to keep an eye you. For your own safety of course," he added this last when he saw the indignant shadow pass across Harry's face. "I ask you…why the Hog's Head? That's the last place I'd have chosen to have a secret meeting."
"Well I figured it would be too crowded at the Three Broomsticks," Hermione explained uncertainly. "Too many people could overhear."
Sirius made a doubtful face. "That's one way to look at it, Hermione. Or…" he went on to suggest that perhaps the crowd would've done them a service rather than harm. It would've been easier for them to disguise their conversation with all the activity in the Broomsticks. Hermione relented that she hadn't thought of it that way and Sirius gently reminded her that he'd had more practice at being sneaky. "You'll get the hang of it eventually."
"So you don't think it's a bad idea?" Harry asked. "You don't think we're risking too much?"
"It's a risk, certainly, but it's an excellent idea!"
They chatted for a while about who had overheard them in the Hog's Head. It was Mundungus Fletcher disguised as a witch, of all things. Sirius dutifully passed on a stern message from Ron's mother warning them not to do anything that could get them expelled. He confided in them, however, that he was proud of them for deciding to do something to protect themselves, even if it was going against the wishes of most of their elders. Harry felt rather good about Sirius being so agreeable, and grinned through most of the conversation.
"We could get expelled for this, you know," Hermione said at one point as if it had only just occurred to her.
"Too right you could," Sirius agreed, watching Crookshanks attempt to paw at his head. "But I'd rather you were expelled learning to defend yourselves against the forces that mean you harm than walking around this school without a clue."
"Exactly," Ron and Harry piped up in unison.
Hermione got quiet, seemingly thinking over their responses. She reached out and pulled Crookshanks away from the fire before he burned himself. Sirius focused his attention on Harry again.
"Anything else you want to talk about, Harry?" His godfather asked, genuinely interested. "I haven't got much time, but I'd love to know how you're doing these days."
Harry thought he heard a hint of wistfulness in the older wizard's voice, but shrugged and reached down to fiddle with a hole in the hearthrug. There was a pause in which he debated in his head whether or not he should tell Sirius about Angelina, but Ron beat him to the punch.
"Harry's got a girlfriend."
"Oh?" Sirius's eyebrows rose up with curiosity. "Really, Harry?"
"And she's a seventh year," Ron piped up again, laughing at the stark crimson shade Harry's cheeks had suddenly produced. He dodged a punch in the arm from his friend that startled Crookshanks, who scampered off with an annoyed hiss.
"Shut up, Ron." Harry avoided Sirius' gaze.
"A girlfriend, eh, Harry? Well that certainly is something." Harry only shrugged again, still not looking at the man. "And older, too? Boy you've done your father proud. Resisting the Ministry and becoming quite the ladies' man."
"Honestly…" Hermione muttered indignantly.
Harry looked at Sirius finally. "She's not technically my girlfriend. We just…like each other. That's all."
"I see…" Harry saw the wise look in his godfather's eyes and couldn't help breaking into a smile. "Well, I'm sure she's a lovely girl. Now! Where are you planning to hold these secret meetings of yours?"
"Well we haven't figured that part out just yet," Hermione admitted.
"May I suggest the Shrieking Shack? We used to hold Marauder's meetings there all the time. Your father loved it, Harry."
It was Hermione's turn to look doubtful. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. It'll be too hard to get all of us out there. No offense, but it was only four of you when you did it. There's almost thirty of us now."
Sirius looked crestfallen for a split second, then sighed thoughtfully. "You're right. That is rather difficult." They all thought for a while, each taking turns suggesting things that they inevitably decided against. No to empty classrooms. No to Hagrid's cabin. No to the Astronomy Tower, no to Moaning Myrtle's lavatory, and no to any of the house dormitories. Harry was becoming quite discouraged when Sirius's face lit up with a bemused expression. "I wonder…" he muttered to himself.
"What? Have we missed somewhere?" Harry asked anxiously.
"Have you ever seen that hideous tapestry of Barnabas the Barmey trying to train those trolls to do ballet on the seventh floor?"
It took Harry a couple of seconds to catch on, but then he started, sitting up on his haunches and leaning closer to the fire. "Yeah, last year! I, er…well, I've been up there."
Not noticing Hermione's reproachful snort, Sirius beamed at him. "Well there used to be a curious room up there, opposite that tapestry. It's kind of a tricky thing, but it just might work."
Ron frowned. "You mean the broom cupboard? Thirty people aren't going to fit in there."
"I imagine it was a broom cupboard for you, Ron, but it could be anything you want, really." They all looked confused, but Sirius went on to explain that he and James had stumbled upon the room during their fifth year and used it to sneak away sometimes with homemade fire whiskey and a deck of wizard playing cards or Remus' chess set. Hermione crossed her arms and gave Harry a look upon hearing the part about the whiskey, but he ignored her. "Some of the house elves were talking about it in the kitchens one night—James and I went down there a lot to knick food—and they called it the 'Come and Go Room,' or the 'Room of Requirement.' "
"Why?" Harry inquired, growing more and more excited.
"Because sometimes it's there and sometimes it's not," Sirius replied as if that made sense to them. "But when it is there, it's usually just what a person needs. James and I needed a place to drink and play cards after hours, so it became such a place for us. The elves said sometimes the caretaker used it when he needed extra cleaning supplies and was running out. And-"
"…if you needed someplace to hide…" Harry said, suddenly remembering the twins' story about how they found the room while being chased by Filch. "…it turns into a broom cupboard!"
"Exactly!" Sirius exclaimed happily. He seemed rather satisfied with himself. "And not many people know about it. I suspect the occasional student or teacher might stumble upon it when they need something, but they'll likely never find it again."
"I've been up there," Harry replied, his heart racing. "With Fred and George. It had everything we needed and I didn't even realize it." It all made sense to him, now. The table with exactly four chairs, the four shot glasses, and the candles when Angelina asked for them….
"That sounds brilliant!" Ron whispered, impressed.
"No wonder you didn't see it up there, Ron," Harry told him. "You didn't exactly need anything."
"But you three need a place for you and your classmates to practice your spell work, so I suggest you waste no time." Sirius said firmly. "Now if I remember correctly, to get into the room, you have to walk past the wall three times and concentrate hard on-"
He stopped talking abruptly and an odd look came across his face. His features tensed up and he turned sideways to stare at the wall behind him. "What's wrong?" Harry asked, alarmed, but a second later Sirius had vanished. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. "Why did he just disappear like that? How're we going to get into the-?"
"Oh no!" Hermione gasped and jumped up, followed closely by Ron. Harry turned to see a chubby hand swiping at the flames where Sirius's head had been seconds before. He too dashed away from the startling sight, his mouth wide open in shock and fear.
Umbridge's hand continued to grope at the flames as the trio hurried up to their dorms, and Harry knew as he backed up the stairs behind Ron that it was trying in vain to catch hold of his godfather's hair.