CHAPTER 17: UNEXPECTED ALLIES

Harry breathed a sigh of contentment as he reclined into one of Gryffindor's plush armchairs. Hogwarts. How he loved it. Her magic wrapped around him, humming with pleasure, embracing him with warmth and affection. Hogwarts had always been his, just as he was hers. The castle would respond to anyone willing to sacrifice for its walls and its students, but Harry had always been her favorite. The chair seemed to mold itself to his form, its arms gently cupping around him, offering comfort and solace.

He knew he needed to be productive while he was here, and not just in his pursuit of pleasure. Though Hogwarts' lessons no longer held much benefit for him, the library might, and the Chamber of Secrets too. Tom Riddle had always felt there were more secrets to uncover, and the library had changed significantly since Tom's time.

At his side, Ron and Hermione were engaged in a heated debate about the arrival of Dolores Umbridge. Harry stifled a snort as he heard Hermione argue that Umbridge was a professor and needed to be respected. Hermione had a serious reverence for authority—one that Harry intended to redirect towards himself. It would be much better for both him and her.

"Ron, she's part of the Ministry. We have to respect her position," Hermione insisted, her voice tinged with frustration.

Ron scoffed. "Respect her? She's here to spy on us, Hermione! You really think she's going to teach us anything useful?"

Harry interjected, his tone thoughtful. "Hermione, Ron's got a point. We can't trust her. She's here for her own agenda, not to help us learn."

Umbridge would indeed be a problem, one he might have to deal with personally. A Ministry stooge in Hogwarts—had Dumbledore's influence truly waned so much? And another useless year of Defense Against the Dark Arts. The thought ignited a sudden burst of rage within him. The Dark Arts were so beautiful, so powerful in the right hands, and the students would remain ignorant of their true potential. Perhaps he should teach them himself.

Harry sat up suddenly, stroking his chin as a plan began to form. He needed followers from across the houses, and what better way than an inter-House extracurricular organization, with him as the leader? He'd be training his own army and gaining unrestricted access to Hogwarts' most talented witches as a bonus.

"Ron, Hermione," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I've been thinking. What if we started our own Defense group? You know, to actually learn something useful."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You mean like a study group?"

"More than that," Harry replied, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "We'll teach each other. Practical defense, real spells, not just the rubbish Umbridge will spout. We'll need to keep it secret, of course."

Ron nodded slowly, a grin spreading across his face. "I like it. We can't let her ruin our education."

Hermione looked hesitant but intrigued. "It's risky, Harry. If we're caught..."

"We won't get caught," Harry said firmly. "We'll be careful. And it's worth the risk. We need to be ready for what's out there."

After a moment, Hermione sighed and nodded. "Alright. I'm in. But we have to be smart about this."

Harry smiled, feeling a surge of satisfaction. "We will be. Trust me."

As they continued to discuss the details, Harry's mind raced with possibilities. He was not just planning a resistance; he was laying the foundation for something far greater. And Hogwarts, ever faithful, seemed to hum with approval.

He'd have to get Hermione to organize it—she enjoyed those useless positions of power. He watched her as the night grew later, and they were the last ones left in the common room. Finally, Ron yawned and headed up to bed, courtesy of a nifty Drowsiness Charm Tom had picked up in Uruguay. Hermione was thumbing through one of his essays, checking his summer homework as she always did.

"Wow, Harry, this is really good. Where did you learn about the history of animals-to-stone transfiguration?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with admiration.

"Oh, you know, in some book or other," he said airily. Actually, it was from a Hungarian Transfiguration teacher Tom had Imperiused for six months before he'd killed him.

She gave him a warm smile. "I'm so proud of you. I don't even need to read your homework anymore. You'll probably get better grades than me."

"Oh, it's all down to you, you know. I've been using your essay structure for years. Point, evidence, explain, right?" Harry said truthfully.

She blushed, swatting at him playfully, but he caught her hand and held it between his.

"Harry?"

"Hermione," he said seriously. "We both know Umbridge is here to push some Ministry nonsense on us. This is our OWL year, our most important year yet. We can't afford another year of a terrible teacher in DADA."

"I know, Harry." She blinked, surprised at his sudden tactile nature. "But maybe Umbridge won't—"

"I'm thinking of starting up an after-lesson club, so I can teach others what she won't, and pass on all my DADA knowledge."

"Really?" She gasped. "That's an amazing idea, Harry. You can teach them all the things we learned for the tournament last year!"

Harry grimaced. Memories of the Triwizard Tournament still haunted him. The tasks, the danger, and Cedric's death—it all loomed large in his mind.

"What? What's wrong?" Hermione questioned, her concern evident.

"It's just… the tournament wasn't exactly a positive experience. But you're right, Hermione. We learned a lot, and it's important that others do too. We need to be prepared for whatever's out there," he said, his voice steadying.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. We can make it about more than just defense. We can cover practical spells, survival tactics, everything that could help us."

"Exactly," Harry agreed. "And I need your help to organize it. You're great at that sort of thing."

Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "I'd love to help, Harry. We'll need to be careful, though. If Umbridge finds out…"

"She won't," Harry assured her. "We'll keep it secret. Only those we trust."

Hermione squeezed his hand, determination in her gaze. "Alright. Let's do it. We'll make sure everyone's ready for whatever comes our way."

Harry smiled, feeling a surge of satisfaction. With Hermione by his side, the club would be a success. He was not just planning a resistance; he was laying the foundation for something far greater. And Hogwarts, ever faithful, seemed to hum with approval as the fire in the common room crackled softly, casting a warm glow over their determined faces.

The next morning, Harry, Hermione, and Ron met in the common room to discuss the details of their new club. Harry began, "We need a name for this club, something that stands out and inspires people to join."

Ron scratched his head. "How about 'Dumbledore's Army'? Since we're basically rebelling against Umbridge and what she stands for?"

Hermione smiled. "I like it. It's perfect."

"Dumbledore's Army it is, then," Harry said, nodding. "Now, we need to spread the word discreetly and gather interested students. Hermione, can you handle organizing the meetings and keeping track of who's joining?"

"Of course," she replied, already pulling out a notebook to jot down ideas. "We'll need a secure place to meet. Somewhere Umbridge won't find us."

Ron leaned in, excited. "What about the Room of Requirement? It appears when you need it and can be whatever we want it to be."

"That's brilliant, Ron," Harry said, impressed. "We'll use the Room of Requirement."

As they continued to plan, Harry felt a sense of purpose and anticipation. This was just the beginning, but he knew they were on the right path. Together, they would make sure everyone at Hogwarts was ready for whatever the future held.

He got up and sat heavily on the couch beside her, so close they were brushing skin.

"I don't think I ever really told you what happened when Voldemort came back," Harry began, his voice low and intense. "How he tortured me, how we fought, how he killed Cedric in front of me."

"Oh, Harry." Hermione gasped, putting a comforting hand on his arm.

"The worst part of it was, when we dueled, when he fired a Killing Curse and all these dark curses at me, the only thing I responded with? Expelliarmus. What a joke. My father fought back against him. My mother sacrificed herself. And all I could do against my parents' murderer was a Disarming Charm?"

"Harry." Hermione breathed. "You can't blame yourself, you were under so much pressure—"

"And even if I was clear-headed, what would I have used? A Stunner?" Harry scoffed. "What good would that have done? Even if I'd landed it, he would have been revived within seconds. Even if I'd stunned them all, they'd go to the Ministry, claim they were under the Imperius, and they'd all go free."

"But Harry," Hermione clutched his arm tighter. "You can't do illegal spells or dark magic. That's what they do. We have to be better than them."

Harry sighed, feeling the weight of his frustration. "I know, Hermione. But sometimes it feels like we're fighting with one hand tied behind our backs."

"I understand," she said softly. "But we have to find another way. We need to be smart, to outthink them. That's why this club is so important. We can learn real defense, prepare ourselves properly."

Harry looked into her earnest eyes, feeling a spark of hope. "You're right. We'll teach them everything we know, and more. We'll be ready for whatever comes."

Hermione smiled, squeezing his arm reassuringly. "We'll make sure everyone is prepared. And Harry, you're not alone in this. We're all in it together."

He nodded, feeling a sense of resolve solidify within him. They would find a way to fight back, to protect each other, and to be ready for the battles ahead. With Hermione and Ron by his side, he felt capable of facing anything.

As they sat together, planning and strategizing late into the night, Harry couldn't help but feel that this was the beginning of something significant. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting a golden glow over their determined faces. Dumbledore's Army was more than just a group—it was a promise, a vow to stand against the darkness and protect what they loved.

In the days that followed, Hermione worked tirelessly to organize their meetings. She discreetly passed notes to trusted students, ensuring that only those truly committed would join. Ron helped by spreading the word through his extensive network of friends, while Harry focused on preparing lessons and practical exercises.

Their first meeting was held in the Room of Requirement, which transformed into a spacious, well-equipped training room. As Harry stood before the gathered students, he felt a surge of pride and responsibility.

"Welcome to Dumbledore's Army," he began, looking out at the eager faces. "We're here to learn real defense, to prepare ourselves for what's out there. This isn't just about passing our OWLs. It's about being ready to protect ourselves and each other."

The room buzzed with excitement and determination. Hermione stepped forward, taking her place beside Harry. "We'll be covering a wide range of topics," she said. "From practical spells to survival tactics. We're here to support each other and to learn together."

Ron chimed in, his voice full of enthusiasm. "And remember, this stays secret. We can't let Umbridge find out."

Harry looked at his friends, feeling grateful for their unwavering support. "We're in this together," he said, his voice firm. "We'll be ready for whatever comes."

As the students practiced their spells and techniques, Harry felt a sense of purpose and camaraderie. This was more than just a club—it was a family, united by a common goal. And with Hermione's organization, Ron's connections, and his own determination, Harry knew they would succeed.

The days turned into weeks, and Dumbledore's Army grew stronger and more skilled. They practiced diligently, learning and improving with each session. Harry watched with pride as his friends and fellow students became more confident and capable, ready to face any challenge that came their way.

One evening, after a particularly intense training session, Harry sat with Hermione and Ron in the common room. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over their tired but satisfied faces.

"We're really making a difference," Hermione said, her voice filled with quiet pride. "Everyone's getting so much better."

Ron nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, and they're all talking about it. People are starting to feel hopeful again."

Harry smiled, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment. "We're doing the right thing," he said. "We're preparing for the future, whatever it may hold."

As they sat together, basking in the warmth of the fire and the satisfaction of their hard work, Harry felt a sense of peace. They were ready, and they would face whatever came their way together. And with the support of his friends and the strength of Dumbledore's Army, Harry knew they could overcome anything.

"Hermione." Harry laughed bitterly, a sound devoid of any real humor. "There's a big difference between the Unforgivable Curses and darker spells."

"But, Harry, we can't use the Dark Arts. They make you evil—"

"Oh, come on, Hermione. We both know that's not true. What do you think Aurors use? How do you think Dumbledore beat Grindelwald? How do you think my father tried to fight off Voldemort?" His eyes flashed with frustration as he spoke.

Hermione was trembling, her mouth agape in disbelief. "But—"

Harry cut her off. "After the graveyard, I was so embarrassed, so humiliated, I started learning more and more magic. I couldn't let that happen again."

Hermione looked down, her voice a whisper. "You didn't tell me."

"During the summer, I bumped into Hannah and Susan in Diagon Alley," Harry continued, ignoring her comment.

"What were they doing there?" Hermione asked abruptly, her tone stiff. Harry suppressed a smile before it could show on his face. He knew all too well that girls were often jealous of Hannah, particularly because of her absurdly curvy figure that drew a lot of attention.

"They were shopping, I suppose. But they invited me back to Bones Manor, and I got talking to Amelia Bones about Voldemort's resurrection."

"The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Hermione's brows shot up in surprise.

"Yeah. And while we were talking, she got a call that Greengrass Manor was under attack from Death Eaters."

"Oh no!" Hermione gasped, her face paling.

Harry nodded grimly. "I went with her to defend it."

"But—" Hermione's eyes were wide with shock. "You're just a student!"

"And I fought the Death Eaters again, and Voldemort too," Harry said quietly, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

Hermione squeaked, clutching his whole arm. "Harry, that's... that's insane! You could have been killed!"

Harry sighed, looking down at their entwined arms. "I know, Hermione. But I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. People needed help."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "You shouldn't have to bear this burden alone."

Harry placed a hand over hers. "I'm not alone. I have you, and Ron, and everyone else. But I need you to understand that sometimes, to fight darkness, we have to use every tool at our disposal."

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "I don't like it, Harry. But I trust you."

Harry gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Thank you, Hermione. That means more to me than you know."

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation settling between them. Then, Hermione took a deep breath. "So, what happened at Greengrass Manor?"

Harry's expression grew serious. "It was chaos. Amelia and I arrived just in time to see the Death Eaters breaking through the wards. Daphne and her family were trying to hold them off, but it was clear they were outmatched."

"Daphne Greengrass?" Hermione asked, surprised. "She doesn't seem like the type to get involved in a fight."

Harry nodded. "She's tougher than she looks. And her sister, Astoria, was there too. They were both incredibly brave."

Hermione's eyes softened. "I didn't know."

Harry continued, his voice growing more intense. "We managed to drive the Death Eaters back, but not before Voldemort himself showed up. It was... it was terrifying, Hermione. But I fought him, and somehow, we managed to hold our ground until reinforcements arrived."

Hermione's grip on his arm tightened. "You're incredible, Harry. But please, promise me you'll be careful."

Harry nodded, his expression earnest. "I promise, Hermione. I'll do my best."

She smiled weakly. "That's all I can ask for."

As they stood together, the bond between them felt stronger than ever. They knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

Harry took a deep breath, bracing himself for Hermione's reaction. "I fought alongside the Aurors, and you may hate me for this, but I killed some of the Death Eaters. They were holding Daphne's younger sister hostage. I didn't have a choice."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, Harry," she whispered, curling up into him, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Harry wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close as they sank into the comforting embrace of the Hogwarts common room couch. The furniture seemed to sense their need for closeness, morphing into a loveseat. "I'm not sorry," he said quietly. "I saved lives, Hermione. And you should have seen Voldemort's face when we forced him to apparate away. We dealt him a blow. Not with Stunners, not with Disarming charms. With real, actual magic."

Hermione clung to him, her sobs quiet but heartfelt. Whether she was mourning her friend's loss of innocence or her own, Harry couldn't tell. All he knew was that they were both changing, and it wasn't easy.

"It's time to grow up, Hermione," he said gently, pulling her even closer. She shifted until she was straddling his lap, her skirt pleating over his groin. He noticed her blouse had ridden up, exposing a tantalizing line of skin at her midriff. Hermione had grown up well, her figure slim and toned from their years of adventure and magic.

Harry placed a hand on her hip, his touch gentle but firm. With his other hand, he tilted her chin up until their eyes met. "I want you to co-lead this organization with me. I need your help organizing it, and to be my assistant while I'm teaching."

Hermione's breath hitched as she felt his hand on her hip, realizing her compromising position. Her core, covered by thin white cotton panties, was pressed directly against something massive and warm beneath Harry's robes. She blushed deeply, her heart pounding.

"Harry, I—" she began, her voice trembling with a mixture of emotions she couldn't quite identify.

"Hermione," he interrupted softly, his thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. "I need you. Not just as a friend, but as an equal in this fight. I can't do it alone."

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Alright, Harry. I'll help you. But we need to be careful. We need to think things through."

Harry nodded, relief flooding his features. "Thank you, Hermione. Together, we can make a difference."

As they sat there, the intensity of their emotions hung in the air. Harry knew that their relationship had shifted in ways neither of them fully understood yet. But for now, having Hermione's support was enough.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the dim light of the common room, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Harry felt her gasp and flinch, immediately sensing something was wrong. "What's wrong?" he asked, his brows furrowing with concern.

"Noth-nothing," Hermione stammered, clearly flustered.

"Is it because I'm touching you like this?" Harry asked quizzically. He quickly withdrew his hand from her side. "Wow, I'm sorry, Mione. I just thought, we're so close, we've been friends forever. I thought we were beyond all that silly teenage awkwardness."

Hermione laughed oddly, her eyes a little too bright, and her laugh a little too loud. "No, of course we are, Harry."

Despite her words, she sat stiffly in his lap, like an inanimate puppet. Harry could feel the tension radiating from her.

"Why are you being so weird?" he asked, frustration creeping into his voice.

"I'm not being weird," Hermione said defensively, but her body betrayed her. She didn't know what to do with her hands, twisting her fingers together, her face flushed.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, fuck, Hermione. I just wanted to tell you about my near-death experiences, about the crazy murderer who wants to kill me, but apparently I'm fucking crazy for not wanting to use Stunners on genocidal maniacs."

"No, Harry, that's not it—" Hermione tried to interject, her voice rising.

"I just wanted a hug from my first ever friend," Harry continued, his voice growing louder. "But I can't even do that. I thought you'd be excited to help me make this club."

"I am—" Hermione tried to exclaim, but Harry cut her off.

"Then what's the problem? Why are you acting like this?"

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Harry, it's just... everything's changing so fast. You're changing. I'm changing. And sometimes, it's hard to keep up."

Harry's expression softened. "I know, Hermione. I'm sorry for snapping. It's just... everything's so overwhelming."

Hermione nodded, her eyes filling with tears again. "I'm scared, Harry. I'm scared of losing you, of losing myself in all of this."

"You won't lose me, Hermione," Harry said firmly, pulling her closer. "We'll face this together, just like we always have."

She took a deep breath, her hands finally settling on his shoulders. "Alright, Harry. I'm with you. Always."

Harry smiled, relief flooding through him. "Thank you, Hermione. That's all I need."

They sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of their emotions hanging in the air. Finally, Hermione shifted, settling more comfortably in his lap.

"So, what do we do next?" she asked, her voice steady once more.

Harry grinned. "We start planning. We're going to need all the help we can get."

Hermione nodded, a determined look in her eyes. "Let's do this."

Together, they began to discuss their plans, their bond stronger than ever. They knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

Harry's frustration boiled over, and he abruptly dumped Hermione onto the couch, standing up sharply. "Forget it," he snapped. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow." Without waiting for a response, he stalked up the stairs to the boys' dorms, ignoring her pleas and her crying.

Minutes later, Harry was wrapped up in his warm bed, staring up at the ceiling with a small smirk on his face. He knew he had been harsh, but in his mind, it was for her benefit. Hermione had always been susceptible to guilt, and he was counting on that. He believed that she would never risk losing her one true and first friend. As a Muggleborn, he thought she wouldn't amount to much despite her incredible intelligence; most ended up working menial jobs in Diagon Alley or returning to the Muggle world.

With his support, he convinced himself, she'd be more important than most. He rationalized that even if she spent a good part of her time supporting him, it was for her own good. Most of his prospects would need money or power, but he'd make an exception for her. She was the smartest girl in Hogwarts, and in his mind, she had always been his. The thought of someone else having her was unbearable to him.

Sleep came easily, and his dreams were filled with visions of Hermione's lips around his member, her sweet brown eyes glinting as she drained his desires.

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