XI
The following morning, Thalia felt considerably better after another dose of Pepperup Potion, though a faint wisp of steam still curled from her ears—a telltale sign of the remedy's effectiveness. Madame Pomfrey had given her a stern talking-to before releasing her, her tone making it clear that Thalia was not to let herself become that ill again.
As she descended the grand staircase, her steps lighter than they had been in days, she glanced at the clock. Breakfast was well underway, and if she hurried, she could catch up with her friends before lessons began.
Entering the Great Hall, the usual morning buzz greeted her: the clinking of goblets, the rustle of newspapers, and the murmur of students chatting animatedly. She made her way toward the Gryffindor table, where her friends were gathered in their usual spot.
George noticed her first. “Oi, Lia!” he called, waving her over with a wide grin. “Look who’s alive and kicking!”
“Barely,” Fred added, scooting over to make room for her as she slid onto the bench.
“I feel loads better, actually,” Thalia said, reaching for a slice of toast and some marmalade. “Madame Pomfrey gave me strict instructions to stop being so stubborn about asking for help, though.”
“Good advice,” Lee said with a mock-serious nod, earning a chuckle from the group. “We’ll make sure to nag you relentlessly if you so much as sniffle.”
“Consider it a public service,” Angelina chimed in, passing her a glass of pumpkin juice.
“Speaking of public service,” George began with a smirk, “you missed a wild Saturday in Hogsmeade. Fred and I had the brilliant idea to—”
“Absolutely not,” Fred interrupted, shooting his twin a warning glance. “No need to corrupt her innocence first thing in the morning.”
“Too late for that,” Thalia teased, raising an eyebrow as she bit into her toast.
Conversation flowed easily, and by the time the bell rang signaling the start of lessons, Thalia felt fully reintegrated into the group. As they all gathered their things and prepared to leave the hall, George slung an arm around her shoulders.
“Glad you’re back, Lia,” he said, his voice light but warm. “Breakfast isn’t the same without your terrible attempts at small talk.”
“Excuse me?” Thalia laughed, nudging him. “I’ll have you know my small talk is top-notch.”
“Top-notch at sending people running,” Fred quipped, and Thalia swatted at him as the group dissolved into laughter on their way to class.
As Thalia weaved her way through the bustling corridors, her bag slung over her shoulder, she glanced up at George walking beside her.
"I don't think I'll be able to make it to the common room this evening," she said, her tone apologetic. "I need to catch up on the lessons I missed yesterday."
George hesitated for a fraction of a second, his expression unreadable. "Oh, right," he said, a little too casually. His gaze flickered briefly toward Fred and the others before he added, “We’ve got an extra Quidditch practice tonight anyway, right guys? So don’t worry about it.”
Fred and Angelina both nodded, though their agreement came a beat too late to feel natural. The others mumbled vague affirmations, but the atmosphere had shifted. There was a stiffness in the air, an unspoken something passing between them that Thalia couldn’t quite place.
Her brows furrowed slightly at the odd tension settling over the group. They were all avoiding looking directly at her or each other, their usual easy banter conspicuously absent.
“Alright then,” she said slowly, glancing at George, who seemed intent on keeping his eyes forward.
Shaking off the strange mood, Thalia slipped out from under George’s arm and gave them all a cheery wave as she turned toward the dungeon stairs. “See you later!” she called over her shoulder, her tone deliberately bright.
“See you, Lia!” George replied, his voice pitched with forced enthusiasm.
As she descended toward Potions, the curious exchange lingered in her mind. She couldn’t quite shake the sense that something was being carefully hidden, and for a brief moment, she wondered what they weren’t telling her.
The following morning, Thalia had decided to test the waters. Over breakfast, she casually asked how the Gryffindors' Quidditch practice had gone. The response was an awkward jumble of half-muttered excuses, with everyone looking at each other as though waiting for someone else to provide a convincing answer. It was clear they were hiding something, and the silence that followed was even more telling than their stumbling words.
By Thursday, things had grown even stranger. None of the Gryffindors, aside from a cheerful Colin Creevey, appeared at dinner. Colin, unaware of the tension brewing around Thalia, sat beside her and enthusiastically explained the workings of his Muggle camera. While she nodded along, offering polite smiles, Thalia couldn’t help but feel the growing weight of curiosity pressing on her.
The next week, things only worsened. The twins claimed they were swamped with homework, while Hermione muttered something about detention. None of it rang true. The distance between her and the group was palpable, and by the end of the second week, Thalia felt a pang of isolation she hadn’t experienced in months. By Thursday morning, she decided to avoid the awkwardness entirely by sitting with her Hufflepuff housemates for breakfast.
As soon as she slid onto the bench at the Hufflepuff table, she was greeted by warm smiles from her classmates, Nova DeLacey and Kristen Popple. Although Thalia wouldn’t have called the girls friends, they had always been kind to her in classes they shared.
“We’re not used to having you sit with us,” Nova said, her eyes lighting up. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Just needed a change of scenery,” Thalia replied with a small shrug and timid smile. Hoping her tone appeared casual.
“Understandable,” Kristen said, nodding knowingly. “As lovely as I’m sure those Gryffindors are, they’re always so loud!”
Thalia couldn’t help but laugh, nodding in agreement at Kristen’s spot-on observation. The trio spent the rest of breakfast chatting about classes and sharing house gossip. Thalia felt herself relax for the first time in days. However, she couldn’t ignore the strange sensation of eyes burning into her back, and the normally rowdy Gryffindor table was unusually quiet.
As breakfast wound down, Kristen turned to her with a warm smile. “I don’t suppose you’d want to join us in the library? I know you’ve got a free period, and it might be good to finish our Alchemy essays together.”
“I’d love to,” Thalia said, a genuine smile breaking across her face. She grabbed her bag, quickly finishing the final dregs of her tea before following the girls out of the hall.
They had just reached the doors when a voice called her name from behind, and hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. Turning, she found Fred and George standing there, both looking pale and distinctly uncomfortable.
“We’re heading to the common room,” Fred said, his tone too casual to be convincing. “A couple of games of Exploding Snap and some homework.”
“Okay, enjoy,” Thalia said coolly, turning back toward the staircase where Nova and Kristen stood waiting.
“Lia,” George called after her, his voice unusually soft, almost pleading. “We were hoping you’d come. Or maybe this evening we could all relax together? Maybe in the Common Room or Library?”
Rolling her eyes, Thalia glanced back over her shoulder, her voice sharp with irritation. “I’d hate to get in the way of your secret Quidditch matches, homework sessions, or detentions,” she said, her words laced with sarcasm. She turned and walked away, ignoring the twin expressions of guilt and hurt that had settled on their faces.
As she reached Nova and Kristen, both girls linked their arms with hers, offering silent solidarity. Nova leaned in close, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “I don’t know what they’ve done to upset you, but sweet Merlin, are they attractive.”
Thalia couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. She knew she was being petty and childish, but in that moment, it felt good to have a sense of control—even if it came at the expense of her friends' feelings.
Thalia allowed Nova and Kristen to lead her towards the library, feeling a mix of satisfaction and guilt swirling in her chest. She knew her words to Fred and George had been sharp, but after weeks of awkwardness and secrecy, she couldn’t help herself.
“Thanks for waiting,” she said softly to the girls as they walked in step together.
Kristen gave her a reassuring squeeze on the arm. “Of course. Who else is going to be able to help me understand the purification of base metals? You are top of the class Thalia,” She joked trying to lighten the mood.
“Ah, so that’s why I’m here; under false pretenses of new friendship just so you can use me for my knowledge and your personal gain!” Thalia joked, enjoying the aura that surrounded the two Hufflepuff girls.
“Obviously,” Nova laughed with a faux over exaggerated wink.
Thalia let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I’m not sure what’s going on with my friends, but I think I just need some space to clear my head. Thanks for letting me tag along.”
The trio settled into the library, finding a quiet corner near the large bay windows overlooking the snowy grounds. Nova and Kristen dove into their Alchemy essays with ease, chatting quietly about the finer points of elemental balance. Thalia tried to focus, scribbling half-hearted notes, but her mind kept drifting back to the twins.
The image of George’s hurt expression lingered. He’d looked so earnest, almost desperate for her to say yes. What is going on with them?
Kristen must have noticed Thalia’s distraction because she leaned over with a teasing smile. “You’re thinking about them, aren’t you?”
“Am I that obvious?” Thalia sighed, rubbing her temple.
“Only a little,” Nova quipped. “It’s alright though. Whatever has happened between you I’m sure you’ll figure it out.Gryffindors aren’t exactly known for subtlety.”
The girls’ lighthearted words helped, and for the rest of the free period, Thalia managed to push her worries aside and immerse herself in Alchemy. By the time they packed up and headed to their next classes, she felt a little more grounded.
But as she passed George in the corridor later that day, his fleeting glance and the unspoken tension between them made her stomach twist. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep pretending she wasn’t hurt—and wasn’t curious—about the Gryffindors’ sudden, strange behavior.
The following week, Thalia found herself slipping into the rhythm of life with her fellow Hufflepuffs. Kristen and Nova, ever the social butterflies, had seamlessly integrated her into their close-knit circle. Ernie Macmillan, with his slightly pompous but good-hearted demeanor, often led their group discussions, while Susan Bones had a knack for keeping everyone laughing with her dry wit. Hannah Abbott, sweet and perpetually kind, seemed to make it her mission to ensure Thalia felt included.
Meals at the Hufflepuff table were surprisingly lively. The group’s humor was gentle, and the conversation flowed easily, revolving around classes, professors, and the latest Hogwarts gossip. It was refreshing—different from the chaotic energy of the Gryffindor table, but no less enjoyable.
For the first time in years, Thalia ventured into the Hufflepuff common room, a space she had almost forgotten. Its warmth and coziness immediately enveloped her, the circular room filled with earthy tones, potted plants, and sunlight streaming through rounded windows. Comfortable armchairs and sofas sat around a crackling fire, and the faint scent of herbs wafted through the air.
“You look like you’ve never been in here before!” Nova teased as they settled into a cluster of armchairs.
“Not since first year,” Thalia admitted, smiling as she looked around. “I forgot how lovely it is.”
“Coziest common room in the castle,” Susan chimed in, pulling out a deck of Exploding Snap cards. “And if anyone says otherwise, they’re lying.”
The evenings spent there were a balm to her nerves. They played games, worked on homework, and shared stories about their families and lives outside Hogwarts. It wasn’t long before Thalia felt as though she’d always been part of the group.
Yet, a small part of her couldn’t help but notice the absence of her Gryffindor friends. The thought of Fred and George’s antics, Angelina’s quick wit, and Lee’s boundless energy lingered in her mind like a bittersweet memory. Whenever she passed them in the hall, their smiles seemed forced, their laughter a touch quieter. Fred and George, in particular, seemed to hover on the edge of approaching her, only to retreat at the last moment.
It had been a week and a half since Thalia had exchanged more than a passing glance with any of the Gryffindors, her frustration and hurt simmering beneath the surface. She had resigned herself to the companionship of her Hufflepuff friends, but the nagging ache of estrangement lingered.
On this particular afternoon, she was tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, quill in hand and parchment spread out as she worked on a particularly grueling Charms essay. Her notes were scattered haphazardly, and her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to string together her thoughts coherently.
The sudden arrival of Fred and George shattered her solitude. Without a word, they plopped themselves into the chairs opposite her, their arms full of textbooks and loose parchment.
Fred immediately began scribbling furiously, his quill scratching loudly against the paper as he muttered under his breath. “Bloody Flitwick and his impossible spell theory,” he hissed, earning a sharp glare from Madam Pince in the distance.
George, on the other hand, looked more composed but equally absorbed in his work. He let out occasional, exaggerated sighs that sent the front strands of his hair fluttering, his frustration as clear as Fred’s, though expressed with less volume.
Thalia watched them for a moment, her quill poised mid-air as confusion and curiosity warred within her. Neither of them spoke to her, their attention fully on their homework.
Feeling the weight of the awkward silence, she returned to her essay, determined to focus. But their presence was distracting, a physical reminder of the tension that had settled between them.
When she finally finished her essay, she began gathering her things, her movements slow and deliberate. She glanced at the twins, her gaze flickering between them as she awkwardly fidgeted with the strap of her bag.
Fred was chewing on the end of his quill, his brows knitted in concentration as he scratched out a line of text. George, meanwhile, was hunched over a piece of parchment, one hand tangled in his hair as he stared at a diagram with a pained expression.
As she stood, ready to leave, her voice finally broke the silence. “What are you two doing?”
Both twins froze mid-scribble, their heads snapping up to look at her.
“Homework,” Fred said quickly, his tone almost defensive.
“Obviously,” Thalia replied, raising an eyebrow. “But why are you doing it here?”
George shifted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “We figured it’d be quieter than the common room,” he said, a touch too casually.
Thalia narrowed her eyes, her bag slung over her shoulder. “Right,” she said, her voice laced with skepticism.
She turned to leave, but Fred’s voice stopped her. “Lia, wait.”
She hesitated, her back to them, before slowly turning around.
“What do you want, Fred?” she asked, her tone cooler than she intended.
Fred opened his mouth, but George beat him to it. “We’re sorry,” he said, his voice earnest. “We’ve been...distracted. And stupid.”
Fred nodded, his usual bravado nowhere to be seen. “Can we talk? Please?”
Thalia’s heart softened slightly at their apologetic expressions, but she kept her face neutral. After a long pause, she sighed and dropped her bag onto the chair beside her. “Fine,” she said, sitting back down. “Talk.”
George leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Not here,” he said, glancing around the library with a nervousness that seemed wildly out of character for him. His eyes darted from Madam Pince’s desk to a group of Ravenclaws at a nearby table, his wariness reminding Thalia of their paranoid ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody.
Thalia raised an eyebrow, her suspicion mounting. “Why? Afraid Madam Pince will confiscate your Wheezes stash?” she quipped, though her tone carried more curiosity than teasing.
Fred leaned in, lowering his voice to match George’s. “This isn’t about jokes, Lia. We need somewhere private.”
“Private?” she repeated, her confusion growing. “Why does this sound more like committing a crime than an apology?”
George gave a small, sheepish grin. “We’ll explain everything, we swear. Just...not here. Too many ears.”
Thalia crossed her arms, her gaze narrowing as she studied the twins. “You’re being really cryptic, you know that?”
Fred nodded solemnly. “Part of our charm, really.”
Rolling her eyes, Thalia finally relented. “Fine. Where?”
“Follow us,” George said briskly, grabbing his scattered homework and cramming it haphazardly into his bag.
Before Thalia could ask what was going on, the twins were off, their long strides forcing her into a near jog to keep up. They moved with a sense of urgency that made her stomach churn with anticipation. Their heads constantly swiveled, scanning the corridors as if they were expecting an ambush.
When they reached the fifth floor, Fred stopped in front of a disused classroom. With a practiced flick of his wand, he tapped the lock, and it opened with a sharp click. The heavy door creaked as it swung inward, revealing a dimly lit, dusty room filled with overturned desks and cobwebbed corners.
“Inside,” George said, ushering her in with a glance over his shoulder.
Once inside, the twins positioned themselves at the front of the room. Thalia stood in front of an old desk, her arms crossed as she watched them pace back and forth. Fred gnawed at his lower lip, his usual confident grin nowhere to be seen, while George ran a hand through his already tousled hair, making it stick up in every direction.
It was clear they were waiting for someone—or something—by the way their eyes flicked nervously to the classroom clock.
Thalia’s patience was wearing thin. Just as she opened her mouth to demand an explanation, the door swung open with a loud bang.
Hermione Granger burst into the room, her bushy hair flying wildly as she rushed over to the twins. In her hand, she held a ratty piece of parchment that flapped in the air like a battle flag.
“Finally,” George muttered under his breath as Hermione skidded to a stop in front of them.
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a low, urgent whisper as she began speaking to the twins in hurried tones. Thalia caught only snippets of phrases like “utmost secrecy” and “our necks are on the line” and “she wasn’t even there that Saturday!” Every few seconds, Hermione glanced in Thalia’s direction, her expression unreadable.
George nodded solemnly as Hermione thrust the parchment into his hands. Fred stood stiffly by his side, a rare look of seriousness on his face.
Without missing a beat, Hermione turned sharply and made her way toward the door. “It was lovely to see you, Lia,” she called over her shoulder with a strained smile before disappearing as quickly as she had arrived.
The heavy silence that followed was deafening.
Thalia stood frozen, her confusion mounting as she watched Hermione exit in a flurry, leaving behind an air of urgency and secrecy that filled the disused classroom. She turned her wide-eyed gaze to the twins, who were now huddled together over the piece of parchment Hermione had handed them.
“Alright,” she said, her voice cutting through the tense silence. “What in Merlin’s name is going on?”
Fred and George exchanged a look, and for once, they seemed completely serious, a rare sight that sent a shiver of unease down Thalia’s spine.
George sighed, folding the parchment and tucking it into his pocket. “We’re about to tell you everything, Lia. Just...try not to hex us until we’ve explained.”
Fred nodded, stepping forward with an expression that was somewhere between nervousness and determination. “We’ve been keeping something from you. Not because we wanted to, but because we had to. For your safety and ours.”
“For my safety?” Thalia repeated incredulously. “What could possibly—”
George held up a hand, cutting her off. “Please, just let us explain.”
Fred gestured for her to sit, and though hesitant, Thalia perched on the edge of one of the dusty desks. The twins took seats on either side of her, their usual mischief replaced by a weighty seriousness.
“You’ve noticed we’ve been...distant,” Fred began.
“Distant? Try sneaking around like Nifflers in a vault,” Thalia retorted, her arms crossed defensively.
“That’s fair,” George admitted, running a hand through his hair again. “But it wasn’t about avoiding you. It’s about what we’ve been doing.”
Fred leaned in, his voice dropping. “We’ve been working with Harry, Hermione, and a few others. A group called Dumbledore’s Army.”
Thalia blinked, her mind racing. “Dumbledore’s Army? What does that mean?”
George leaned back slightly, his gaze steady. “It means we’re training ourselves to fight. To protect ourselves. The way the Ministry’s handling things, they’re not preparing anyone for what’s really out there. For Voldemort.”
Thalia felt her breath catch at the name, but she didn’t look away. “So...what? You’ve been sneaking off to practice spells?”
“Not just spells,” Fred said. “Defense. Dueling. Learning how to handle situations they’re not teaching us about in class. Let’s be honest, Umbridge and her books are teaching us nothing.”
“And why keep me out of it?” she demanded, her voice tinged with hurt.
“We thought we were keeping you safe,” George admitted, his voice quieter. “It was my fault really. The picture of you after detention with Umbridge kept playing in my head, I’m not sure I could live with myself if she hurt you like that again.”
Noting how George’s voice appeared to have caught in his throat, Fred continued, “But we can see now that it hurt you, and we’re sorry for that. We’re telling you now because...we trust you, Lia. And if you want in, we’ll make sure you’re part of it.”
Thalia looked between the twins, her mind whirring as she processed everything. The betrayal she had felt these past weeks melted into understanding, but a flicker of fear lingered in her chest.
“This is dangerous,” she said finally, her voice soft.
Fred nodded solemnly. “It is. But so is doing nothing.”
George reached out, his hand brushing hers lightly, the warmth of the fleeting contact sending an unexpected jolt through Thalia. Before she could pull away or say something dismissive, his fingers closed around hers, his grip gentle but firm. “We wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to be involved. But we’d like you to be. We could use someone like you.”
Thalia looked down at their hands, the weight of the decision settling on her. She wasn't just agreeing to learn advanced defense techniques or join her friends in rebellion; she was signing up for a secret that could unravel everything if exposed. If the professors discovered what they were doing, detention would be the least of her worries. She knew she would feel the full wrath of her Grandfather, like never before. She couldn’t even imagine what he would do to her.
Shaking her head to clear her swirling thoughts, she finally met their gazes and nodded. “I’m in.”
A grin broke out across both their faces, and Fred clapped her on the back. “That’s our Lia!”
George’s smile was softer but no less genuine. “We knew you’d say yes.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she warned, though the corners of her mouth twitched into a small smile. “But if I’m doing this, I’m doing it properly.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” George said, his eyes gleaming with pride. "If you're serious about joining, we have to ask you to sign this," he continued, carefully smoothing out the crumpled piece of parchment Hermione had handed him moments earlier.
Fred leaned against the desk, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "But we have to warn you," he added, "it's been charmed to hex anyone who reveals the secrets of the club. Nasty stuff, trust me, Granger did it herself."
Thalia raised an eyebrow, taking the parchment from George's outstretched hand. Her eyes scanned the list of names scrawled across the page. Familiar ones jumped out immediately—her Gryffindor friends like Hermione, Ginny, and Lee—but others made her pause. Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbott were among them, as were several Ravenclaws whose names she didn’t recognize.
"There are over 20 names on this list," she murmured, her voice low with astonishment. "How are you keeping this so hidden? With Umbridge's crackdown as Senior Undersecretary, this sort of thing should be impossible."
Fred and George exchanged a glance. "That," George said, scratching the back of his neck and flashing her a sheepish grin, "we can't tell you until you've signed."
Rolling her eyes, Thalia fished a quill from her bag and dipped it in the ink pot on the desk. With a flourish, she added her name to the list, her neat cursive standing out among the messier signatures. Handing the parchment back, she raised an eyebrow at the twins. "Well? I'm in. What now?"
George’s grin widened, a mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes. "It's probably easier to show you," he said.
"We've got a meeting this evening," Fred added. "We'll walk you there after dinner. Be ready."
Thalia tilted her head, curiosity swirling with apprehension. "This had better not be one of your pranks," she muttered, though she couldn’t help the flicker of excitement in her chest.
Fred gave her a wounded look, pressing a hand to his heart in mock offense. "A prank? Us? Lia, we’re offended."
"Deeply," George added, nodding solemnly before flashing her another grin. "Trust us, you’re going to love it."