Chapter 1
Fifth year
“How many people so far?” asked Harry from across the couch in the common room, his fingers tracing the scarring on the back of his hand absent-mindedly.
Hermione sighed. “15 so far. Mostly Griffyndors. I think we can get more.”
“I think we should keep it small.” Ron replied. “We can’t go around advertising it, and who knows who we can really trust? If Umbridge finds out, forget about our hands, she’ll tattoo damn lines onto our foreheads.”
Harry grimaced at that, looking down sullenly at his left hand.
“We’re trying to build an army Ronald.” Hermione retorted. “15 is a number for a book club. We’re trying to help people learn how to defend themselves against Death Eaters, and trust me, it’ll be more than 15 people that they’ll come after once Voldemort decides to show himself to the public.”
Ron merely rolled his eyes. “I think I’d rather take on 15 Death Eaters by myself than 15 of you in a book club -oof!” Ron was cut off by Hermione chucking a pillow straight at his face.
“This is not a game Ronald!” She seethed. “The last time Voldemort rose to power, the Order was as prepared as they could be, and they still lost almost everyone – Sorry Harry,” she added apologetically, to which Harry merely waved her off, “we’re only 15 and don’t know more than half the spells that Sirius and the others would have known when they started fighting. We have to start preparing myself. Voldemort is hardly going to wait until Harry becomes legal to declare a war.”
“Hermione’s right.” Harry finally spoke, sitting up from his reclined position. “We can’t protect everyone when we’re barely staying alive each year ourselves. And not just the people we know and care about. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, when it comes down to it, they have even more muggle-borns and half-bloods than Gryffindor, and a lot of their parents work for the Ministry too. They could all become targets in less than a year. Someone has to convince them that it’s worth going against Umbridge to learn how to defend themselves properly. The way she’s going about things right now, we’ll be lucky if people will be able to throw up a protego by the time they graduate.” Harry snarked, propping up his head with his wand.
“It can’t be me.” He said with some finality. “I’m literally the most discredited person in the whole of the Wizarding World right now and people will think I’m just trying to do it to spite Umbridge. You guys will have to be in charge of recruitment.”
Ron sighed, nodding his head glumly. “Fine. I’ll speak to Ernie and Justin after the Hufflepuff Gryffindor game on Saturday. I don’t know Abbot or Bones that well, but I suppose if I can convince the boys, they can talk the girls into joining too.”
Hermione scribbled down the potential recruitments quickly on her parchment. “Susan should be easy to convince. The Bones family was a part of the original Order, and her aunt, Amelia, she voted for you at your hearing didn’t she Harry? That must mean that she believes in you, at least to some extent.”
Harry shrugged, his pale face etched with fatigue and lingering resentment. “I guess that makes her a better friend than Seamus, and I’ve never even spoken a word to that girl.”
“Seamus is a prick, he’ll come around.” Ron said, gently punching Harry’s shoulder. His tone was light, but Hermione could sense the tightness in his voice and he and Hermione shared a knowing glance at each other, before quickly returning to the conversation of who they could recruit.
They were both worried about Harry. Hermione was more vocal about it, but she could sense that Ron was just as on edge and frustrated with the current tension in the Gryffindor common room. He was trying hard to stand up for Harry, whilst also trying to keep the peace between Seamus and his followers and Harry, who was so tightly wound and gearing for a fight that even the slightest snark or comment could set him off. He'd always position himself between Harry and the others, standing tall over the rest of the boys and glaring down at them, daring them to say something. He also tried to rush Harry away from the nay-sayer crowds as often as he could, suddenly noticing that he had left his books behind in the classroom, or reckoning he saw Malfoy having a suspicious expression on the other side of the castle to hustle Harry away. Hermione reckoned Ron’s newfound diplomacy, albeit rather aggressive, stemmed from his guilt at having iced out Harry with the rest of the House in 4th Year, and she smiled to herself at his maturity.
“Luna Lovegood.” Harry’s voice woke Hermione from her thoughts, and she stared at him, bewildered.
“That lunatic?” Ron scoffed. “She doesn’t need spells. Just lock her in a room full of Death Eaters and get her to give them a lecture on Wrackspurts and Nargles for an hour. The effect of that will probably be stronger than if we mass confunded the lot of them.”
“She’s not a lunatic. She’s actually quite brilliant when you get to know her.” Harry said softly, his expression so resolute, as if daring them to disagree, that Hermione had to bite back her own snarky response about the dotty witch’s usefulness and ability.
“And Ginny vouches for her. She says Luna’s second in her year group. She might act different, but she’s got talent.” Harry paused for a second before continuing, “She approached me a few days ago too. She said she believed me, and that more people do believe me, way more than I’d think. I think she’d be a good asset.” A ghost of a smile lingered on Harry’s face as he said the last part, and Hermione’s heart clenched as she thought about everything her best friend was going through.
“Luna it is then. I’ll write her down.” She said, flashing Harry a smile.
However, she found exasperation taking over her as Ron asked obliviously, “When were you talking to my sister?”
“Honestly, Ronald, Ginny lives in the same dorms as us, we talk to her all the time!” Hermione exclaimed.
“Yeah but, I’m always with Harry. She’s never come up to talk to me! Too busy snogging the life out of Dean instead.” Ron grumbled, grimacing as he recalled his younger sister’s complete lack of consideration for him and his feelings when parading his friend around the common room as her make-out buddy.
Harry also groaned at the image, probably for a different reason, Hermione mused.
“Maybe it’s cause I don’t nag her about her relationship every second that I catch a glimpse of her.” Harry joked, “or maybe I’m just a more interesting conversationalist than you. She’s got like 5 more of you, but I’m the Chosen One and all that.” He sniggered, as Ron sent the same cushion Hermione had just thrown at his face on to Harry’s, knocking his glasses off.
There was a moment’s pause as Harry fumbled for his glasses, before all three of them broke into peals of laughter. Hermione’s heart made another subconscious clench as she laughed along with her best friends.
How long would they have, before the inevitable came and they’d be fighting for their lives? Could they even survive what was coming? How many times could they laugh like this again – carefree, happy, at peace?
Tears stung in her eyes, and before she knew it, Hermione had gone from laughing hysterically to crying with equal vigour.
“Mione! What’s wrong?!” the boys both exclaimed, rushing to her side.
She laughed, her tears still streaming down her face, as she clutched both of their arms, pulling them closer.
“It’s no-nothing really. I just- I just want us to survive, b-but I want us to do more than just survive. I want us to be happy. Without having to look over our shoulders I- Oh Harry!” she sobbed, turning to look into his tired eyes. “You don’t deserve any of this. Every year, every year you pu-put your life on the line and these ba-bas-bastards don’t even ack-knowledge the sacrifices you’ve made to…to keep us all safe. And Ron, you have so m-much to lose. You’re whole fam-family, they’re like a second family to me and my parents, they’re so hel-helpless they don’t even know what’s happ-happening…” the rest of Hermione’s words were eaten up by her tears, as she gasped to catch her breath in between sobs.
Harry and Ron, for both of whom emotional intelligence was not a forte, could do nothing but look at each other in panic as they alternated with each other between awkwardly patting her back and tapping it, followed by weak “there there”, and “it’s ok”, as they tried their best to soothe her.
As soon as Hermione had calmed down and collected herself, however, her mind was already accelerating with all the planning and recruitment matters she needed to get ahead of. There was no time to waste, especially on anything as sentimental as tears. She bolted from the couch, her eyes still shining from crying, but also wild with exploding fire, her curls bouncing off each other as if electrified.
She looked down at her two best friends, who were staring at her bewildered, as she barked, “Ok, pity party is over! I’m fine. I just needed to let that out. Let’s get to it. I’m going to go find Luna. Ron, you go speak to Smith, he’ll be in the library. Harry? We’re going to solve all of this.” And with that she swept out of the common room, her heavy resolute steps ringing inside, even after the portrait door swung shut.
Ron and Harry sat, stunned still, for a moment, before Ron slowly shook his head. “Mental that one.”
Harry grunted in agreement and let out an irritated sigh. “Well you got your orders. I’ve got mine – Detention with Umbridge.” He muttered at Ron’s questioning gaze, before extricating himself from the couch also.
“Harry mate-“ Ron began, but Harry cut him off, “I’m not giving her the satisfaction Ron. She can scar me however much she likes; at the end of the day a scar is just a scar – I’d know. If I back down here, I’m basically acknowledging that I am a liar and confirming Cedric died in some freak accident. I won’t dirty his memory like that. I can take it.” He said firmly, before turning to leave.
Ron bowed his head, patting him apologetically on the shoulder. “Alright then, well I’m off to the library, I’ll let you know how Smith goes.”
The two boys nodded grimly at each other and left without another word.