Two Boys of Right & Wrong and the Hogwarts Order of Defense

“Can you repeat that for me one more time… maybe a little slower?”

Once again, the Quartet sat within the Library that Monday night, this time with a widespread of foods Dobby had provided happily to them from the Kitchens that Harry would be able to eat after returning from his hardly earned detention from Umbridge at midnight, greeted by his equally hungry friends who nevertheless had waited patiently while getting their own homework done, despite the Quidditch field simply calling to Ron. This most likely in part had to do with the angry look Draco had given him when he’d attempted to bring up the idea of going out in the now pouring rain to practice at lunch.

“Well, maybe, if Fudge wants us to unite some students under the idea that You-Know-Who is back, why not kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, and get them to unite under another common enemy.” Hermione waited for a response, realized just how much she had been trying to explain to them while they ate hungrily had gone over their heads, and rolled her eyes and whispered, “Umbridge!”

This was met with understanding as the boys nodded.

“How do we do that?” Ron asked and in the glimmer of light from the fire, which was the only light they had as they were here after hours and against rules, the boys caught the smile tugging at Hermione’s lips. “Well, I was thinking we could start with… Maybe it’s time… We got a new teacher.”

Harry dropped his fork and Draco, who had been facing away from Hermione while eating off his plate which had been set on the table in front of the couch, now turned sharply, neck cracking a little, from his surprise. “Granger are you… Are you going to kill our teacher?”

“No!” Draco made a very overly dramatic show of pressing his hand against his heart and sighing in relief while Ron took a sip from his goblet and poorly disguised muttering, “You should.” “Poison, preferably.” Harry called and Hermione rolled her eyes. “No, no, no. We aren’t killing Umbridge. I just think that most kids at this school can agree she’s an awful teacher and we won’t learn a thing from her this year. So, the best way we could get them united and believe in us, is if we could teach them Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“Come off it,” groaned Ron. “You want us to do extra work? Hermione, unlike you all three of us,” he indicated the circle of boys all sat around the accent table. “Are only behind on enough homework as it is, and it’s only the second week!” Draco turned himself towards her fully, swallowing his bite of sandwich before saying, “And we have Quidditch.”

“But this is much more important than Quidditch!” All three boys gasped. “Or Homework!” Now they all seemed to imitate Draco in gasping once more and pressing hands to their chests.

“I didn’t think there was anything in the universe more important than homework!” said Ron.

“Don’t be silly, of course there is. It’s about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge’s first lesson, for what’s waiting for us out there. It’s about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don’t learn anything for a whole year--”

“We can’t do much by ourselves,” said Ron in a defeated voice. “I mean, all right, we did it last year, right? Looking up jinxes in the library and trying to practice them, I suppose--” Hermione smiled at Ron’s quick thinking mind and nodded. “No, I agree, we’ve gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books,” she said. “We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use spells and correct us if we’re going wrong.” Harry cocked his head, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

“If you’re talking about Lupin…” He began but was cut off immediately. “No, no, I’m not talking about Lupin. He’s too busy with….” She eyed Draco eating his sandwich idly a few feet away from her. “That thing…. The most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and that’s not nearly often enough.” “Who, then?” Harry frowned though Hermione heaved a heavy sigh and looked at him with that hint of a smile once more.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m talking about you, Harry.”

There was a moment of silence as Harry blinked at her, letting his mind do circles well Draco froze in eating his sandwich to stare between he and Hermione and Ron watched him intently for a response, jaw dropped, before he settled on thinking he had misheard her and asking, “About me what?”

“I’m talking about you teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts.” All at once Ron shut his mouth, frowned slightly while cocking his head to the side and finding himself saying, “That’s an idea.” Still, Harry was committed to believing he had cotton in his ears.

“What’s an idea?” Ron gestured to him, “You, teaching us to do it.”

“But--” Harry found himself grinning, eyes flicking between the three of them as they all watched earnestly. “But I’m not a teacher, I can’t -”

“Harry, you’re the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts,” said Hermione, and Draco placed his sandwich down now and shrugged, admitting, “Unfortunately that’s true, you can’t deny it, Harry.”

“Me?” said Harry, his grin becoming broad with denial. “No I’m not, you’ve beaten me in every test--”

“Actually, I haven’t,” Hermione corrected, Draco staring up at her in confusion. “You beat me in our third year--the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew the subject. But I’m not talking about test results, Harry. Think about what you’ve done!”

“What do you mean?” Draco audibly scoffed at that while Ron let out a barking laugh and said, “You know what, I’m not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me,” To Hermione then turned to Harry to say, “Let’s think; Uh…. first year - you saved the Philosopher’s Stone from You-Know-Who.”

“But that was luck,” said Harry. “It wasn’t skill -” But now Draco raised a hand and interrupted with, “Second year, you saved the whole school from Slytherin’s monster.”

“The Basilisk.” Hermione said and the blonde again looked up at her, shocked. “A - You’re joking?” She shook her head, and for some reason he found himself grinning. “A Basilisk…”

“Yeah, but if Fawkes hadn’t turned up, I -”

“Third year,” Ron rose his voice now to say over Harry and Draco’s mumblings, “you fought off about a hundred Dementors at once--”

“You know that was a fluke, if the Time-Turner hadn’t--” “Time-Turner?!” Draco snapped at Hermione who waved a hand as if to say ‘later’, focusing solely on Harry with a smirk.

“Last year,” Ron would have been shouting if they weren’t in the library after hours, or in a library at all. “You fought off You-Know-Who again -”

“Listen to me!” Harry was almost angry now as he looked between his friends' faces, which were all too pleased with themselves. “Just listen to me, all right? It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck - I didn’t know what I was doing half the time, I didn’t plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help--” But they were still smirking.

“Don’t sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn’t I?” He said heatedly. “I know what went on, all right? And I didn’t get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because - because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right - but I just blundered through it all, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing - STOP LAUGHING!”

It was with this shout that Harry became aware he had jumped to his feet, and the three friends around him couldn’t even worry about the clutter of movement coming from somewhere around them as Madam Pince no doubt heard this yell, as they had focused on Harry with stricken faces.

“You don’t know what it’s like! You - any of you - you’ve never had to face him, have you? You think it’s just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you’re in class or something? The whole time you’re sure you know there’s nothing between you and dying except your own - your own brain or guts or whatever - like you can think straight when you know you’re about a nanosecond from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die -”

Hermione shot out of her seat, finally coming to her senses and hearing the librarian’s voice faintly calling them, and covered Harry’s mouth. He scowled at her but she shook her head, and Draco and Ron got up to grab the Cloak then wrapped it around all four of them, and guided their fuming friend out of the library, only glimpsing at the angry Pince as they slid out the already open door.

The group managed to keep Harry calm enough to stumble for the abandoned girl’s bathroom, but as soon as they’d shut the door Moaning Myrtle hadn’t even had time to emerge from a stall before Harry had thrown off the cloak and shouted, “They don’t teach us this in their classes! You can’t know what it’s like to deal with things like that - And Hermione, how can you sit there, acting like I’m all clever, when all you’ve been doing to Umbridge is defending Viktor! You know he wasn’t stupid, it isn’t about that! That could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn’t needed me -”

“We weren’t saying anything like that, mate,” Ron interrupted, looking aghast as, behind him, Draco raised a hand to Myrtle and shushed her before she could howl. “We weren’t having a go at Krum, we didn’t - you’ve got the wrong end of the -” He looked over at Hermione, and Draco did too, and Harry only had a split second to realize why in which the words recovering is hard flitted across his brain before tears were running down Hermione’s cheeks.

“Harry… I know he wasn’t stupid I… This is exactly why we need you… we need to know what it’s r-really like… facing him… facing V-Voldemort.”

And it was the sight of her standing there, so fragile and broken, that reminded him that though his friends hadn’t faced Voldemort, they had been through at least some of the things he had. Draco had seen Voldemrot up close and gone through all those awful Tasks at his side, and the trio had faced a troll, devil’s snare, real-life Wizard’s chess, spiders, and time travel together, and far too much stress and grief on top of it. These people, his friends, had stuck by his side through all of that and now they were asking for him to do something for them, so they might get to live to see the sunrise on a brighter world when this was all over, unlike Viktor.

“Well… think about it. Please?”

He didn’t need to. With one step forward Harry had stretched out his arms and pulled all three of them close, nuzzling his face between Hermione and Draco’s necks while Ron, the tallest, rested his head on top of his. And they stayed like that, for a long moment, a Quartet of friends that hadn’t managed to really be friends since the start of summer, but now relaxed in each others grip with the safety that no matter how dark things would surely get in the coming years, the four of them had each other, and that would always be enough.

Harry let them go, stepping back, and pressing his hands to Hermione’s cheeks to wipe her tears away with his thumbs, smiling at the beautiful sister he was lucky enough to have earned in a bathroom not unlike this one long ago.

“Of course I’ll do it. Because I can’t live in a world where you all won’t be prepared to defend yourselves.” He looked to Ron, his best friend who always could make him grin, even now, and to Draco, the boy who made him feel slightly sick when he laughed in the dewy morning or his eyes glittered like now, in the twilight, like stars he was named for. “I can’t lose you.” It was the most true thing he had said since reuniting with them all.

“Are you really going to come in here just to make me cry at midnight? You four might be the most annoying bullies to ever annoy me, and believe me that’s an accomplishment.”

The Quartet looked up at Myrtle, floating above her stall with her arms folded in a pout, fully expecting her to cry at any moment, but were all shocked to see that, somehow, someway, they had gotten her to smile that night, like a normal fourteen year old, and returning that smile with a few light laughs from Ron and Harry, the group thought that maybe, just maybe, miracles are possible, and stumbled contently back to bed.

-*-*-*-

At breakfast on Tuesday, the boys were exhausted, nearly falling into their own eggs and toast as they tried to eat it, but weren’t spared the wrath of an eager Hermione, sitting herself down beside Ron in their normal arrangement and asking, “So are we doing this, or not?”

“Blimey, Hermione, it’s too early for this…” Ron groaned while Harry dropped his toast on his plate and gaped at her and Draco asked, “Grange, Harry’s agreed to this last night we can’t already be planning!” But the muggleborn just shrugged.

“Do you want to let Umbridge get more control than she already has? We have to get ahead before she starts her own secret society of Auror’s, or something.” Ron, miraculously for being so sleep deprived, actually nodded and agreed, saying, “That’s a good point. She probably wants to make the whole school into a mini-Ministry.” He then laughed dazedly because, yeah, sleep deprived. “Ha ha, mini-Ministry…” Hermione blinked at him, unsure whether to be grateful for his input or concerned for his well being.

She was saved by Harry jumping in his seat and patting all his friends shoulders or arms, saying, “Speak of the toad…” Draco looked up and finished his thought in a whisper of, “... And she shall appear.” as Umbridge herself appeared before him, directly behind Ron and Hermione.

“Mr. Malfoy,” She said in the usual sickeningly sweet voice. “What are you doing?” Draco looked down at his plate, up at the woman, then said, though his voice sounded as if he wasn’t convinced in his own words, “Eating…?”

“What House are you in, Mr. Malfoy?” She asked, sounding all too proud of herself and in a blink of an eye the pieces fell into place, and Draco was left scowling at her darkly. “Slytherin…” He mumbled and she smiled with thin pink lips. “And what House Table are you sitting at?” “The Gryffindor House.”

“I must request you move to your proper table at once, Mr. Malfoy,” She hesitated then, with a wider smile, “By order of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor.” Though Draco greatly wished to ask her what made her think he respected his High Inquisitor, Hermione seemed to be expecting it as she eyed him dangerously, so instead he simply kept his head down and stood, eyeing Ron’s scar on the back of his hand as he turned and strutted for the Slytherin table without a second glance. He didn’t know how he’d feel if he had to see Fred and George’s faces, and if the two saw his own, they’d surely do something rash. Hermione was right; they needed to keep their heads bowed and make Umbridge think she had all the power.

When Draco sat down between Vincent and Gregory, much to their surprise, it certainly felt like she did have the power, but he didn’t let that show, instead snapping his fingers like he used to and declaring, “Marmelade!” which Daphne passed over as if in one of their first three years again. He felt even worse, lathering his toast with the orange stuff, when little Garrison Lynch was sent back to the Slytherin table as well, and Rose Zeller to Hufflepuff, and another boy with her, leaving their two Ravenclaw friends behind looking utterly alone, and Umbridge all too smug as she sat herself back down at the staff table with a pointy-toothed grin.

-*-*-*-

After a very lively inspection of Trelawney’s class the previous day, Harry had the luck of getting to enjoy an amusing inspection of McGonagall as well, but as soon as the Quartet spotted the pink woman with her comically large clipboard on the way down to Hagrid’s hut for Care they knew they were going to be in for a ride, and not the fun kind.

“You do not usually teach this class, is that correct?” Draco once again snatched the biggest Bowtruckle and led the group over to their tree, Professor Grubbly-Plank replying to the question smoothly, not stressed or offended like Trelawney, or angry and short like McGonagall. “Quite correct,” she said. “I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid.”

Pansy was taking much too long with getting a Bowtruckle, the Gryffindor’s had to note, Draco being the only one actually consumed in their work.

“Hmm… I wonder - the Headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information on the matter - can you tell me what is causing Professor Hagrid’s very extended leave of absence?” The Professor merely shrugged her shoulders. “Fraid I can’t,” she said breezily. “Don’t know anything more about it than you do. Got an owl from Dumbledore, would I like a couple of weeks’ teaching work. I accepted. That’s as much as I know. Well… shall I get started then?”

“Yes, please do.” Umbridge, if she was a respectful person, would have stepped aside to let Professor Grubbly-Plank fully ‘do her work’, but the woman remained scribbling notes beside her, not that she paid her any mind, an - admittedly - great teacher as she was. Once she was done ordering them to experiment with how the Bowtruckle would favor a certain member of the group based on the type of food they were given - there were many varieties of woodlice and fairy eggs - however, Umbridge finally stepped aside and wandered amongst the students instead of shadowing the teacher, questioning them on magical creatures.

Parvati and Lavender gushed to her about Unicorns and knew all the specific details on how to care for an adult, baby, and sick one, while Susan Bones told Umbridge of the details that went into caring for your own Blast-ended Skrewt burns, though kept it vague enough as not to raise suspicion she or anyone else in class had been burned before. Pansy didn’t have much to say as she never really paid attention in class, but Vincent and Gregory provided useful information about Flobberworms and even Seamus begrudgingly admitted that the Unicorns unit was the best. After a lengthy interrogation of Dean, Umbridge seemed content - or discontent with the lack of anything bad to write down - and hurried back to Professor Grubbly-Plank.

“Overall,” she said, “How do you, as a temporary member of staff - an objective outsider, I suppose you might say - how do you find Hogwarts? Do you feel you receive enough support from the school management?”

“Oh, yes, Dumbledore’s excellent,” Umbridge’s sweet smile nearly melted off her face at her words. “Yes, I’m very happy with the way things are run, very happy indeed.” Scratch, scratch, scratch went the clipboard as the Quartet eyed each other cautiously. “And what are you planning to cover with this class this year - assuming, of course, that Professor Hagrid does not return?” It seemed as if she had tasted something vile when referring to Hagrid as a ‘Professor.’

“Oh, I’ll take them through the creatures that most often come up in OWL,” said Professor Grubbly-Plank. “Not much left to do--they’ve studies unicorns and Nifflers, I thought we’d cover Porlocks and Kneazles, make sure they can recognise Crups and Knarls, you know…” Scratch!

“Well, you seem to know what you’re doing at any rate,” said Professor Umbridge after a very obvious tick then, she turned to Gregory was was currently smacking at his Bowtruckle to stop him from eating woodlice of his fingers, and smiled all too sickeningly. “Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?”

Draco, who had been tentatively reaching a fair egg out to his Bowtruckle, dropped said egg onto the bark of root from the tree beside them and it shattered, but only Hermione seemed to pay that any mind as the others along with him had whipped around to see Gregory shifting to eye him warily, and Pansy leaning forward across the table of Bowtruckles with far too wide a smile and eagerness.

“That was Draco!” She exclaimed and Ron hung his head and groaned along with Hermione as Harry and Draco both scowled. “He was practically mauled by a Hippogriff.”

“It broke skin barely, Pansy,” Draco said and held up his very plain and unharmed arm, pulling back his sleeve to show as much. “It didn’t even leave a scar!” He turned to face Umbridge fully and sat with a straight back formally. “Besides, I only got hurt because I wasn’t listening to Hag--Professor Hagrid’s instructions and decided to be an idiot.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned around then, leaving Umbridge gawking, Pansy scowling, and Gregory smiling at his friend, giving Vincent a high five under the table.

“Jolly good,” Declared Professor Grubbly-Plank, if only to break the tense silence, and Umbridge sharply turned on her heel and pranced up the grass to the castle, scratch, scratch, scratching as she went.

When the class packed up to leave after correctly or incorrectly identifying the most favored member of their group (it was Draco, by far, only because he was the one putting in the most effort until after Umbridge left and Hermione worked with him) Parvati and Lavender were groaning while attempting to brush excess woodlice from their fingers but received kind advice from Daphne and got it cleared off neatly, Seamus was congratulating Dean on his ability to make the Hippogriff sound pleasing to Umbridge and was surprised to hear from behind him Tracey Davis saying it wouldn’t be hard to compliment, and Susan was sidling slyly up to Neville, complimenting his knowledge of the many woodlice varieties based on what he knew of the many varieties of trees.

Hermione gazed at these interacting friends and smiling tugged at Draco’s arm, waving Ron and Harry forward towards Herbology and walking with him up the path to the castle with the Slytherins. He didn’t resist, gathering from the fire in her eyes he had only seen when she was advertising S.P.E.W this was important.

“I’d like it if you told some of your Slytheirn friends about what we’re planning,” She whispered to him, stopping to let the last Slytherins, Vincent and Gregory, pass before continuing, “Harry and Ron probably won’t approve, but we need them. I have a feeling Umbridge will easily get them on her side otherwise.” Draco stepped away from her, not liking being held that tight because he wouldn’t dream of disagreeing, especially on this all too familiar path where she had done something he really wished to forget to his poor face years prior.

“Alright, but what exactly are we doing?” Hermione paused, staring at her shoes a moment before raising her eyes to meet him, that fire burning even brighter. “Learning.” She said, and that was enough for him, or at least it would have to be, as Ron called “Oi!” from below and she had to sidestep away, waving hurriedly before dashing down to the greenhouse.

With a resigned sigh, Draco turned and jogged the rest of the way up the steps to meet his Slytherin ‘friends’, in the middle of yet another comparison between Professor’s Grubbly-Plank and Hagrid, of course.

“From what we’ve seen so far I see this substitutes much better than someone who caused a grave injury on his first day,” Theodore was saying as he joined the group walking down the hall to History of Magic. “But I’m not sure Draco’s injury was that grave…”

“It wasn’t, Theo,” Draco said, sliding between him and Pansy cleanly, hoping that a soft nickname from Second Year would ease any tension and get him on his good side quickly. “Pansy’s just trying to warp your mind. Let me do that for you.” From an outside perspective this would seem like the opposite road to take--Hermione certainly would have scoffed and pulled him aside before he could ruin the situation even more--but he had been these people’s friends for years before he became a Quartet, so the involuntary tug at Theodore’s lips at being reminded of such times was well predicted, as well as the tug on his arm from Pansy.

“Draco! What’re you playing at?” He turned to face her scowl and raised a manicured eyebrow with an oblivious smile. “You completely humiliated me in Care and now you're back like we’re all friends--” “Exactly! I humiliated you,” He poked her in the chest and winked before turning back to Theodore. “But Theo here is just a passive listener, ignorant to the whole picture. He deserves to know, doesn’t he? Besides, I’m not sure Crabbe and Goyle will get me a passing grade in this class if I cheat off of them.” He turned his head to give the two a mouthing of the word ‘sorry’, but they looked unfazed, also as predicted.

So it was Draco ended up in the back row of History of Magic with Theodore on his right and Pansy on his left, trading information on the best ways to find a book of actual useful knowledge he’d learned from Granger in exchange for Theodore’s ears in him explaining the Quartet’s ‘plan.’

He hated calling the messy idea of ‘rebelling against Umbridge with House unity’ and what not a ‘plan’, but here he was on Granger’s orders and far be it for him to disobey her. He did not want to see Granger Danger today.

“Thoughts on Professor Umbridge,” Draco led with, scrawling the title of today’s lecture across a clean sheet of parchment as Professor Binns began and instantly he got Nott scowling. “Awful teacher. Shouldn’t even be considered a teacher at a magic school,” Theodore looked over at him, annoyance written as clearly as any emotion could be in the stoic boy's long face. “I’d be surprised if I had a single classmate in the N.E.W.T class next year with how this is all going. Even Granger is bound to fail.” Against his best interests, Draco frowned, but managed to save it by turning it into hopefully in-character offense as he pressed a hand to his chest.

“You’ve wounded me. So you think you're the only one who can pass?” Theodore rolled his eyes. “Well, yes. I mean, I can practice the spells and know if they match the correct description in the books to a pinpoint. Books have magic of their own, you know.” Draco rolled his eyes. Yes, he did know, or at least he knew that this was Theodore’s philosophy he had been parroting since the train ride when they were all eleven.

“But say you could learn more than you are now--say someone else could teach you it all, and verify in person, not from a page in a book, that you were doing it right. Wouldn’t you want to have that chance?” He asked after a moment of scribbling down notes and Vincent’s head smacking on the table, already out like a light, though if Binns noticed, he did not show it.

It’s a longer moment before Theodore responds, in which he leans over to Draco’s seat, points a finger at the line he just wrote and corrects it by saying, “1776 not 1778.” then asks, “Who would be teaching?” Draco swallows hard, scribbling out the date and replacing it with the correct one before answering, “Harry Potter.”

Pansy lets out a laugh which causes Binns to shoot his head upwards so she quickly scrambles to lie she was laughing at the occurrence on 1776, though Draco honestly didn’t really know what he was writing about, instead focusing on watching as Theodore looked conflicted with that news, mulling it over in his head for a few minutes before saying, “Makes since. He’s the best in our year at Defense, right?” Draco almost smiles.

“Right.” He confirms and the rest of the class passes through smoothly before the bell rings and everyone gets up from their seats. Draco pushes past Gregory, kicking Vincent awake to grab Theodore lightly by the arm on the way to the Great Hall for dinner and asks, “So you’ll do it?” Theodore shrugs his shoulders, moving to walk backwards through the Great Hall doors while saying, “Beats the baby stuff, right? Just tell me where and when.” Then disappearing out of sight.

Draco turns at the sound of the Entrance Hall doors creaking inwards, and easily picks out red hair, bushy mane, and jet black mop among the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, and when Granger pushes her away out of the crowd to him it’s with a triumphant smile on her face, which he returns.

-*-*-*-

On Wednesday, advertising whatever little group they were planning to piece together went successfully by claiming it was a study group, and Draco and Hermione managed to pool together a respectful amount of people by dividing and conquering in their Arithmancy class.

Padma promised to let her sister and Lavender know about it, which got the issue of having to recruit them around Harry and Ron's eyes, and Terry Boot was unboard as soon as Granger got talking, the muggleborn proudly telling Draco that he'd be bringing along his best friend Anthony too. For reasons Draco didn't want to dwell on around too much chaos in his head as it is, his face had gone pink at the name, but he had narrowly missed Granger seeing it by turning his head and calling to the nearest student, asking if they wanted to rebel.

That distracted Granger on another matter entirely as she barely managed to yell at him for his choice of words, which had, "Just slipped out" before Sue Li had smirked mischievously and nodded.

So when the two pretended they were leaving to study in the library and left their Gryffindor friends confused on the grass with an even more confused Cho, they switched tactics from 'study group' to 'rebellion against Umbridge' and had a whole slew of kids on board in the Gryffindor Common Room. It wasn't until Draco had turned to climb out the portrait hole a confused First Year asked what a Slytherin was doing here and Fred and George had sprung to a defense. Draco smirked smugly, then, the smile not leaving his face until he had returned to Harry and Ron and found the former still conversing animatedly with Cho, who they now learned had finally cut ties with Cedric.

Speaking of, Thursday rebellion and learning proved to be failing them, as they couldn't get a single kid on board, but then Draco overheard Tracey telling Daphne how they weren't even learning to defend themselves and how senseless the Ministry was being, and he got an idea.

By the end of that day the two had not only gotten their first Hufflepuff's on board, but a group of them, and sat themselves down across from Harry and Ron, content with their collection of students and ready to finally break the news of what they had been doing.

Or, at least, they would have, if Draco hadn't caught Umbridge's scowl and rise from the staff table and rolled his eyes, slouching away back to the Slytherins with the same ugly feeling he had had all week since Umbridge first banished him from that table he'd considered his own far more than any other in the past year.

But he found quickly that he didn’t quite hate having to listen to Pansy ranting about how unethical it was Professor Sprout was making her ruin her manicure, or Daphne not-so-slyly flirting with a hot prefect girl a year older than them, or Theodore ranting to Goyle about a book the two of them had just both finished reading as much as he had at the beginning of the week, and realized, after getting up and joining game night with the rest of the Slytherins for the first time in an entire year, he really very much enjoyed it.

(Not that he’d ever let his Gryffindor friends know, or his Slytherin ones for that matter.)

-*-*-*-

It was obvious Harry wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of this ‘study group/rebellion/defense league’ thing, but the few weeks they had to wait before getting the chance to go to Hogsmeade and kickstart the thing did manage to slowly make the unavoidable future fade from his mind. His detentions with Umbridge had at last ceased (not that the writing on he and Ron’s hands seemed to ever fade); Ron’s skills at Quidditch were rapidly improving due to the support of Draco and Hermione shooting different encouraging messages into the sky at practices; Hermione’s birthday party had gone off without a hitch save for Hermione complaining about the food and complex cake being prepared by House-Elves and getting into a heated argument with Draco, but after having separated the two Hermione came to enjoy the festivities for her 16th; and Harry was back at the top of the charts in Transfiguration but Draco was gradually climbing the ranks in Charms and looked to be topping Hermione any day now.

There was also the slight problem weighing on his mind that when Hogsmeade did come, Sirius would come bounding down the road as a black furry dog with it. He’d sent a letter to him at the beginning of September to no response, and was worried, with how he’d seemingly gotten away with the disguise at King’s Cross with no issue, Sirius’s typical roguish tendencies would get the best of him and he was planning a surprise visit right at this moment.

He was just pondering on this possibility when Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face on September 22nd, and he was forced to face his concerned friends faces as he rose his head from where it was threatening to totter into his porridge.

“What?” Draco rolled his eyes at his sputtering while Ron smirked, saying, “Mate, you looked about to pass out there. You okay?” Harry frowned, straightening in his seat and dropping a spoon into the thick mixture, shrugging his shoulders as if to shrug off the weight resting on them, though he presumed he created that weight by worrying in the first place. “I’m fine.”

Why did he keep saying that? He could just tell them he was worried about Sirius, he supposed, but…

“Hermione!” Said muggleborn eagerly turned towards the sound of Neville’s voice and raised her eyebrows expectantly, mouth full of jammed toast, as he asked, “We’re still on for the Hog’s Head, right?” She swallowed. “Right!”

Once the bumbling boy had turned, Draco slapped Hermione’s wrist, which had been reaching for more pumpkin juice, and exclaimed, “The Hog’s Head?!” over the sound of her yelping.

She shrugged, feigning innocence, and rubbing her wrist while saying, “No one will suspect it, will they? Look, sometimes dodgy and dirty is a good thing. This is one of those times.” Harry raised an eyebrow in question when Draco actually seemed to agree with this statement, and asked, “Hermione, what exactly are we doing?” Just as Draco had weeks prior.

With slight smirks on their faces, the three all answered at once (even Ron).

“Learning.”

“Rebelling.”

“Defending.”

Draco and Hermione’s heads whipped around to Ron’s when they registered he had spoken too but he also feigned innocence in shrugging his shoulders. “Oh yeah, I heard you. You two aren’t exactly subtle, you know, especially when it’s both at once.”

“Both at once?” Draco sputtered while Hermione scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?” But Ron didn’t answer, meeting Harry’s gaze with a wink and playful grin, and Harry found himself returning it, for the moment - even if it was a short moment - forgetting it all, even Sirius.

-*-*-*-

An hour later Harry found himself staring up at a shaky sign of a severed boar’s head, which was leaking painted blood so realistically he felt as if a drop would fall onto his face at any moment. It remained still, however, and so he turned to look at Hermione, greatly expressing all his regret into his face with this look, but sadly was met only with conviction and only a hint of disgust.

“Well, come on,” She said, and so he was forced to step inside, with her following close at his heels, Ron cautiously sidestepping a creaky looking floorboard, while Draco broke it right through and stumbled a bit, ankle caught for just a moment, toppling into the three of them.

Suffice to say that quickly alerted the not very popular and not at all akin to the Three Broomsticks Hog’s Head bar inhabitants, who all turned their heads in surprise to see what had caused the creak and snap of wood and yelps of a few teenagers. Clearly, teenagers were a rarity in this place, and the why of that wasn’t exactly well hidden.

Grime seemed to layer every inch of the place, including the bay windows which allowed very little sunlight, the persistently burning stubs of candles sitting on equally grimy tables, and the floor, which at first glance could’ve passed for actual earth with its accumulated filth of centuries.

Once the Quartet had composed themselves Harry couldn’t miss how Draco’s pale face had gone green and he’d clapped a hand over his mouth in an instant, before catching the eye of the grizzly looking bartender that, on second glance, Harry vaguely recognized, and lowering his hand to give him a shaky smile.

“Lovely establishment,” He said smoothly though opening his mouth caused him to start coughing on dust and so Hermione instantly pulled him by the arm aside to a corner booth and away from what would surely turn into an awkward encounter for the privileged rich boy. With that Harry turned his head away from his friend, and stepped up to the bar, Ron already there before him and offering the barman a shaky smile.

“What?” He grunted at the ginger who held up four fingers. “Four Butterbeers, please,” He said, though he winced a little as the man reached under the counter to pull out four very dusty, and very dirty bottles, just like the whole rest of the place, before slamming them on the bar, making Ron wince harder. “Eight sickles.”

“I’ll get them,” Harry said quickly, fishing eight coins out of his pockets and dropping them in the barman’s open hand, then picking the bottles up along with Ron and heading over to the farest booth where Hermione waited expectantly, and Draco sat with a hand covering his mouth eyeing the bottles as if they were poison.

“Butterbeer? Really?” He asked, lowering his hand so he could speak and picking the dusty bottle up to eye its label warily. “Not even gin?” Ron, who had already popped off the cap of her bottle and sipped it, choked on his drink while Hermione’s face flushed at Draco’s words.

“Draco! That’s alcohol!” She gasped while Draco placed his bottle down carefully and shrugged, Ron placing his own down and smirking slightly at him as he said, “I was going to suggest Firewhiskey but… Mate, I didn’t know you had it in you.” He sent him a wink which Draco returned and Hermione now looked red as a tomato, positively fuming.

“What? We could order anything we liked here. I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn’t care.” Ron murmured, now eyeing the bar with enthusiasm, as if the prospect of gin or Firewhiskey was dangling in the air above the barman’s head, just out of his reach. Hermione did not seem amused, however, instead glaring dagger at him and snarling, “You-are-both-prefects.”

“Oh,” Ron said, the smile fading from his face. “Yeah…” Though Draco did not appear convinced, as he leaned back and crossed his arms, mumbling about how he could’ve gotten gin with all his Slytherin friends and none would bat an eye, not even ‘Nott.’

“So, who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?” Harry asked, opening his own Butterbeer as Hermione did the same, Draco still protesting it and instead finding gazing out the dusty window beside him much more interesting, especially with that question that he knew Harry would hate the answer to. Hermione, noticing this, went pink slightly while forcibly trying to appear nonchalant in shrugging her shoulders and saying, “Oh, just a couple of people,” and checking her watch anxiously, looking out Draco’s window as well. They both glanced at each other worriedly when spotting the all too suspicious line of teenagers in multicolored robes outside and shifted in their seats to cover it from Harry’s view. “I told them to be here about now and I’m sure they all know where it is - oh, look, this might be them now.” She gave a little high pitched laugh then winced as the door of the pub swung open, and a second later a flood of people fell inside, making much more of a ruckus as even Draco had in his tripping.

First came Neville, being pushed forward by Dean and Lavender who were snapping at each other, no doubt hating every second they had to have been squished against the pub door so close. Neville cast the group a shaky smile before being pushed aside by Parvati eagerly linking arms with her best friend and leading her away, Padma stepping in after her and being the first to observe the dusty and grimy surroundings and frown, but then she smiled as Cho and Marietta stepped in beside her and said something Harry couldn’t hear or care about because his stomach was doing back-flips just looking at the stunning girl. It sank when Cedric stepped in after her, however, but then the Ravenclaws were hurrying Cho away from her ex and he felt exhilarated at the idea of just how free she could be for him. Following Cedric (who was casting the group the usual beaming grin of his and so Harry supposed he couldn’t be too bitter) came Luna Lovegood, who looked as if she could have stumbled in by accident. Katie Bell, Alica Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson came all in one pack, then Colin and Dennis Creevey leading what Harry first thought to be a trio of first years - they were so small - but then saw to be five, none of whom he knew the names of. Ernie Macmillan led a group of Hufflepuff’s and pushed through the crowd to Cedric as soon as he stepped inside, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, and a girl he did not recognize following, all scolding the Head Boy for leaving them behind. Anthony Goldstein (Draco’s face took on a light shade of pink and he succumbed to opening and drinking his Butterbeer so he wouldn’t have to look at him), Michael Corner, and Terry Boot came next with Ginny in between them, who was snapping at someone behind her. A weedy-looking boy Hermione whispered to be the Nott boy that Draco had mentioned early stepped in scowling at her about something or other to do with what she’d said to him, followed closely on either side by Daphne Greengrass and a younger Ravenclaw who looked the same as her but with dark brown hair instead of corn-yellow blonde. Sue Li then stepped in with Tracey Davis laughing at some joke one had made, nearly bumping into a tall skinny blonde boy with an upturned nose, who eyed Tracey’s green robes with a sneer. Harry vaguely recognized him as being a member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, but was distracted as Crabbe and Goyle came running in, turning and eyeing the newly arrived Fred and George Weasley and Lee Jordan worriedly, who were all carrying bags of Zonko’s merchandise.

“A couple of people?” Harry gasped, hoarsely, as his eyes flitted between the many chatting students before him, all of whom had garnered the attention of the pub’s inhabitants and the barman’s scowl, and looked all too comfortable and not at all like they had been forced to be here, not even the still scowling Nott boy, who sported Slytherin green and was of course making some of the other students wary. “A couple of people?!”

Hermione, however, looked all too pleased. “Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular, right Draco?” Draco now found himself grinning as well, directly at Harry with mirth. “Well you know how it is. Tell one person, they tell the next guy. Next thing we know, we had a whole hoard of kids wanting to come.” Harry felt his left eye twitch slightly as Hermione turned to Ron, beaming, and said, “Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?”

“Hi,” Fred greeted the barman, reaching the bar first despite arriving last by smoothly weaving through the ground with George and Lee at his heels. Dropping an elbow onto the counter casually and turning to count the heads of all his companions he said, “Could we have… thirty-eight Butterbeers, please?”

The barman was glaring at Fred so hard Harry thought he was trying to burn holes through his skull, but Fred was only grinning back, and just as the grizzly old man gave up and bent down to start passing up the bottles, the door, which had finally managed to nearly creak it’s way shut, got pushed all the way back open by a bob of black hair in green sleeves and Pansy Parkinson stepped inside, hands on hips.

Everyone in the pub, including the Slytherins and including Draco who if anything should’ve been the one expecting this, having invited her, sucked in a breath as if expecting Dolores Umbridge herself to follow Pansy at any moment. Because Draco had indeed not invited her, agreeing with Hermione even hinting at it to her was far too risky, but clearly not taking into account making sure her nosy ears didn’t pick up a word.

“Thirty-eight Butterbeers and one red currant rum!” Pansy announced, striding her way through the crowd of students that easily parted in her wake, certainly out of fear, and placing her own elbow on the counter to mirror Fred’s stance whilst giving him a sickening smirk. “And I’ll pay for it all.” She reached into a deep pocket of her robes and pulled out a bag of coin, plopping it onto the counter and winking with a, “Keep the change,” before turning to drag a chair over behind one of the other chairs Ron had dragged over, and plopping down in it, kicking her legs up to cross her ankles on top of the back of the second chair.

Slowly, every pair of eyes in the group of students, including Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s, turned to the now suddenly very pale Draco Malfoy, accusingly.

“I… did… not… invite… her…” He said slowly, and Pansy beamed, raising her chin high. “No, he didn’t. But he invited Theo. And Tracey. Then Daphne, who invited her sister Astoria, then Crabbe and Goyle, of course. He tried to with Millicent but she was too thick and Blaise pretended not to hear him, the arse.”

Ron scowled. “And you just happened to be there?” He asked, lips threatening to pull back in a sneer. “Every time?” Pansy nodded.

After a moment of silence where the group waited to see if she’d threaten them or bully them, unaware if her inviting herself was a good or bad thing yet, Hermione accepted the fact that Pansy wasn’t going to say anything more and cleared her throat.

“Er,” she began, her voice slightly higher than usual, most definitely out of nerves of looking at so many people at once, and the unexpected arrival of Pansy Parkinson. “Well - er - hi.” The group blinked at her expectantly. “Well… erm…. Well, you know why you’re here. Erm… well, Harry here had the idea--I mean” (Harry glared and Ron and Draco both looked as if they’d strangle her in her sleep if they were included in this) “I had the idea - that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts - and I mean, really study it, you know, no the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us -” (A hint of a malicious smile tugged at her lips as Hermione sucked in a deep breath and continued, more strongly) “- because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts -” (“Hear, hear,” called Anthony Goldstein, and Draco made a very obvious show of ducking his head to take a guzzle from his Butterbeer bottle, then wipe his mouth so no one could see his pink cheeks) “- Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands.”

She paused to look over towards Harry, and went on, “And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells -”

“You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?" said Michael Corner, seated beside Anthony with Ginny on his other side, shoulder to shoulder, a little closer than Harry would have expected.

“Of course I do,” Hermione gasped. “But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defense because… because…” It was almost like Harry could see her telling herself that Fudge’s plan was for them to make a group of students who believed in the words she was about to say, before they came out of her mouth in one strong statement, “because Lord Voldemort is back.”

Predictably, the reaction to the name was immediate. Marietta shrieked, spilling Butterbeer down her robes; Terry Boot’s whole body twitched and Anthony placed a hand on his shoulder calmingly, though his arm was shaking as it rested there; Padma shuddered; Neville yelped but smoothly turned it into a cough to hide that fact and Pansy clicked her tongue as if tutting them. All eyes, once again, had turned towards Harry.

“Well… that’s the plan, anyway,” said Hermione, seemingly unfazed, having most definitely expected this reaction. “If you want to join us, we need to decide how we’re going to--”

“Where’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” Shouted out a voice, and Harry’s head snapped around to find the Hufflepuff player who had scowled at Tracey, standing towards the back of the crowd, leaned against the wall, Ernie Macmillan at his side.

“Well, Dumbledore believes it -” Hermione began, but almost immediately the blonde boy nodded to Harry, saying, “You mean Dumbledore believes him,” he nodded to Draco, “And a Slytherin snake.”

Immediately Crabbe and Goyle spun in their seats close to Draco to raise their fists at the boy, but Draco reached a hand out to stop them calmly while Ron growled, “Who are you?” surprisingly defensively.

“Zacharias Smith,” said the boy, “and I think we’ve got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who’s back.”

Hermione now had become very flushed, but she intervened nonetheless, saying, “Look, that’s really not what this meeting was supposed to be about -”

“It’s OK Hermione,” It was clear to Harry most of these people were only here for him, so best to get it out of the way so they can leave and then they can do real work, right? “What makes us say You-Know-Who’s back? I saw him. Draco saw him. We saw him walk, talk, and fight, and he nearly killed us. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn’t believe him, you won’t believe me, and I’m not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone.”

It seemed every inhabitant of the pub was holding its breath, and even Pansy looked taken aback, face unusually pale and jaw open slightly.

“All Dumbledore told us last year was that Viktor Krum got killed by You-Know-Who and that Malfoy brought Krum’s body back to Hogwarts, then went off running to save you like some knight in shining armor. He didn’t give us details, he didn’t tell us exactly how Krum got murdered, I think we’d all like to know -”

“If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t help you,” Harry practically growling and Draco, noticing this, and worried for what he’d do if he let his temper keep on rising up, slide closer to him and placed a hand lightly on his arm, telling Zacharias, “We aren’t a circus show to gawk at or a Quidditch match to entertain you. This is real life, and Viktor was a real person who died in a very real and sudden way, and you’ve got to accept that.”

Zacharias didn’t attempt to say anything back after that, thankfully, so Hermione continued, voice still very high-pitched.

“So! So… like I was saying… If you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we’re going to do it, how often we’re going to meet and where we’re going to meet, though I have something of an idea myself.” She winked to Draco here, who smirked back, having already discussed this with her thoroughly in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.

In that time George rose from where he leaned on the back of Fred’s chair to announce to the group, “Did you know,” Every eye turned to him “that Harry here can produce a patronus?” Fred grinned, raising a finger, “A corporeal patronus.” Ginny frowned and hissed something about how ‘Mum said not to tell’ but was drowned out by the murmurs of shock around her.

“Blimey, Harry,” Lee exclaimed, grinning, “I didn’t know you could do that!” Harry shrugged, nodding, and one of the first years piped up, “What’s that?” so Colin whispered what it was while the Ravenclaw beside Daphne Greengrass asked, “What form does it take?”

“A stag.” Harry said and a couple people oohed, then he felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to see Draco smirking at him mischievously. “You didn’t tell me you could produce a patronus,” The smirk spread, his eyes now swimming in mirth. “I would have started calling you ‘Patronus Potter’ all last year!” Harry rolled his eyes. “Exactly…”

The people close to him that had heard this laughed (he didn’t miss how Pansy had smiled then clapped a couple fingers over her lips) and now, mood in the pub loosened, Terry Boot spoke up, demanding, “And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore’s office? That’s what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year…”

“Er,” Harry looked at all the expectant eyes on him uncomfortably. “Yeah, I did, yeah,” he said.

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled; the Crevey brothers looked awestruck but didn’t stand out as much as the five first years who had their jaws hanging down to the floor and Lavender said “Wow!” softly. Again he felt a tug on his sleeve and looked at Draco’s incredulous expression but placed a finger to his lips lightly. “You’d overload if I told you,” He said and now the whole collection of students started laughing, Pansy giggling lightly though no one seemed to notice as she shut her mouth too quickly.

“And in our first year,” Neville turned in his seat to tell the group, “He saved that Sorcerer’s Stone -” “Philosopher’s,” hissed Hermione. “Yes, that - from You-Know-Who!”

Hannah Abbott’s eyes had gone round like Galleons, but no one else could react before Cho continued, smiling, “And that’s not to mention, all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year - getting past dragons and merpeople and Acromantula and things…” A murmur of agreement passed around the crowd, Cedric exclaiming, “I can attest to that!” but Harry shrugged, trying his best not to show any reaction to Cho praising him like that, not wanting to anger Cedric who was being very nice, and instead saying, “Well, I did have a good partner.”

Draco frowned, “Yes, I bet turning me into a Ferret helped a lot.” Again, the crowd of students laughed and Harry found himself looking very pleased, despite his best efforts.

He shook his head in desperation to stop smiling, holding out his hands and saying, “Look, I… I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to be modest or anything, but… I had a lot of help with all that stuff…”

“Not with the Fourth Task, you didn’t,” said Michael, nodding his approval, “That was impressive Transfiguration there.”

“And with the First too!” Sue Li exclaimed. “Human to animal Transfiguration is not easy.” Cedric nodded to that and then to Harry, saying, “I can attest to that. I was seriously impressed there, Harry, thought you did better than me.”

Harry frowned, feeling his face go red. “No, no, OK, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I’m trying to make is -” “Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?” said Zacharias.

“Here’s an idea,” Ron shouted, as Draco attempted to rise from his seat but Harry pushed him back down. “Why don’t you shut your mouth?” Zacharias had turned really rather red but he still refused to stop speaking. “Well, we’ve all turned up to learn from him and now he’s telling us he can’t really do any of it.”

“That’s not what he said,” Fred practically growled. “Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?” George asked, wiggling his eyebrows testily and pulling out a long and lethal-looking metal tool from inside a Zonko’s bag. “Or any part of your body, really, we’re not fussy where we stick this,” said Fred, tapping it with a smirk.

Now everyone had to take notice as Pansy snorted in her seat, but she quickly turned it into a cough and took on a disgusted face, feigning distaste at her surroundings instead of having to admit to the crowd she found two Weasley’s funny.

Draco frowned, whispering, “Oh no…” and at the rest of the Quartet’s confused expressions whispering, “They’re going to be friends.” Hermione rolled her eyes then faced the students again and continued, “Yes, well, moving on… the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?”

A murmur of agreement spread its way across the room, and though Pansy folded her arms tight and sniffed, no one seemed to care what she thought.

“Right,” said Hermione, smiling with relief at being able to finally reach an agreement. “Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don’t think there’s any point in meeting less than once a week -”

“Hang on,” Angelina raised out a hand, frowning, “We need to make sure this doesn’t clash without Quidditch practice.”

“No,” said Cho, shaking her head in a way Harry had to admire as her dark hair moved, “Nor with ours.”

“Nor ours,” added Zacharias, glaring competitively.

Draco glared right back, saying, “Or ours.”

“I’m sure we can find a night that suits everyone,” said Hermione, slightly impatiently, “but you know, this is rather important, we’re talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters--”

“Well said!” Came a bark that made Zacharias finally jump out of his slouched and unimpressed pose from shock. “Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we’ll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!” It was Ernie Macmillan, speaking with his usual conviction, and waiting for a response but not missing a beat when no one protested him, continuing with, “I, personally am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells--”

“Well, that makes sense.” Everyone turned in surprise at the sound whimsy voice, to see Luna furrowing her brow, looking upset. “After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army.”

“What?” Harry blurted out as Luna’s face shifted to something solemn. “Yes, he’s got an army of Heliopaths.”

“No, he hasn’t,” snapped Hermione. “Yes, he has,” said Luna, and now over thirty heads were snapping between whoever was speaking at the time, baffled.

“What are Heliopaths?” Neville asked, face notably blank instead of bewildered like most of the others. “They’re spirits of fire,” Luna explained, and Harry had to note, with her wide protuberant eyes, she looked quite mad, “great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of--”

“They don’t exist, Neville,” Hermione cut in, making Luna look angry for the first time Harry had ever seen. “Oh, yes, they do!”

“I’m sorry, but where’s the proof of that?” snapped Hermione and Luna shrugged. “There are plenty of eye-witness accounts. Just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you -”

“Hem, hem,” Everyone’s heads now snapped around in alarm before seeing it was only Ginny being Ginny and giving a near-perfect Professor Umbridge imitation, causing several people to laugh. “Weren’t we trying to decide how often we’re going to meet and have defense lessons?”

“Yes,” said Hermione at once, “yes, we were, you’re right, Ginny.” She looked thoroughly relieved to be back on track.

“Well, once a week sounds cool,” Lee exclaimed then wincing as if anticipating Angelina's comment before it escaped her lips. “As long as -” She could only begin before Hermione had interrupted tensely, “Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch. Well, the other thing to decide is where we’re going to meet…” Again she met Draco’s eye, the two mischievously smirking, and Marietta became the first to point it out.

“Will you stop mind reading each other and tell us the details already?” Everyone turned to her, surprised by the sudden outburst, and even Cho looked over in confusion as her friend's face went red from embarrassment. Draco decided to take the lead there, feeling the outburst was in part his fault because Marietta had harbored a subtle crush on him last year after the Yule Ball, and was probably just jealous seeing him with Hermione (a lot of people were mistaking them for dating these days, especially desiring to paint him as more of a villain in stealing a still grieving girl).

“We - Granger and I,” - Marietta softened at the use of a surname - “are thinking of using a place that’s called the Room of Requirement, also known as the Come and Go Room.” He couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing, or at least if he should feel happy or sad, when everyone’s faces remained blank and confused at the names. “Harry and I discovered it last year while stressing about preparing for the Tasks. If one is to pace in front of the blank patch of wall in front of the portrait of a man trying to teach trolls ballet - you know the one - back and forth three times, while focusing on what they truly desire, the room will reveal itself in the form of that wish.”

“For example,” said Ron, starting to grin, “Say you really need to use the toilet, and happened to be pacing in front of the right wall. Well, then that wall would form a door, and inside that door would be a room full of chamber pots and toilets.” The Creevey brothers both started laughing and the first years giggled, but Hermione eyed him strangely before shrugging and saying, “Well - I suppose - yes. That’s how it works.”

Looking across the room at all the confused faces, however, Harry couldn’t tell if they fully believed in the Room of Requirement.

“How come no one knows about this thing?” Zacharias asked. “This Room of Requiring, or whatever?” Hermione mumbled ‘requirement’ under her breath while Ron raised an eyebrow and asked, “I thought I said shut your mouth?” And Harry declares, “Everyone knows there’s loads of secrets about Hogwarts no one has discovered yet. The Room was just one of those things.”

Hermione frowned at how Zacharias glared at them and a couple people around him still looked unconvinced, but straightened. “Right, well, we’ll send a message round to everybody when we’ve got a time and a place for the first meeting.” She announced, then rummaged through her bag a bit before producing parchment and a quill. After setting them on the table her eyes lingered there, hesitating about what she maybe wanted to say next.

“I - I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think,” she took a great deep breath, “that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we’re doing. So if you sign, you’re agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we’re up to.”

She picked up the quill, signed the parchment, then looked up at the group at last, smiling expectantly. “So, who’ll be first?” Ron frowned, tapping her shoulder, and whispering, “‘Mione, you have to get through your friends first.” And she yelped. “Oh, right!” Ron rolled his eyes and wrote his name, passing it over to Harry who hesitated briefly before scrawling his one name below the two, then slid it to Draco, who signed it instantly, but still eyed Hermione testily and said, “Granger, this isn’t like an unbreakable vow on paper, right?” Hermione paled but he winked, mouthing, “Only joking,” and she sighed in relief as he passed the parchment over to Fred who took it and cheerfully wrote his signature, beaming.

George wrote his quickly after, then handing it off to Lee who stared Harry down intensely. “You better make our first lesson on how we can turn Malfoy into a ferret.” In spite of himself, Harry began to laugh while Draco gasped,“Hey!” And Hermione cried, “Not happening!” Meanwhile Lee had shot his hands up in surrender, but a grin was still snaking across his lips, refusing to fade. “It was just an idea!”

Cho took the parchment and quill from his raised hands and smiled across the table at Harry, a tad pink in the cheeks. “I think this will be great for all of us, Harry.” She said, and Harry felt his stomach squirm and his lips threaten to smile shakily before Marietta tore the parchment and quill from her friends hands, exclaiming, “Cho, are you blushing?”

After the Creevey brothers had both signed they passed it among the nervous looking first years, who were still eyeing Harry shyly or even warily. “My Mum says not to trust you,” A girl said, staring at the parchment her friend was offering her as if it might explode. “And my big brother believes her,” she picked the parchment and quill up carefully, then shrugged, beaming, “But I’m a Gryffindor and he’s a squirmy Hufflepuff so, who cares!”

A couple people laughed at this, loud enough to make the Hufflepuff’s look a little offended, then Pansy suddenly burst out, “Yeah, why is it Granger - and Draco, sadly - that you thought inviting Hufflepuff’s to a secret defense association,” - “That’s a good name.” Cho mumbled idly - “Was a good idea?” Theodore and Tracey both laughed as she smiled in triumph and Hermione glared darkly, but they were all interrupted by a creak of a chair and Cedric Diggory shooting out of his seat.

“Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders!” He exclaimed and Pansy narrowed her eyes at him, looking disgusted. “What the hell is a ‘Hufflepuff?’” He hesitated, then dropped back down in his seat and Pansy rolled her eyes. “The point is your standards here when choosing kids were clearly pretty low. I mean,” She looked behind her at the shy little Gryffindor, “First years? Really?”

No one seemed to be on Pansy’s side anymore as Hermione began to smirk herself while instantly biting back with, “Yes I suppose standards had to be low, considering you're here.”

Pansy scoffed while a couple people laughed then turned and tore the parchment out of the Gryffindor girls hands and finally let her legs drop from the chair in front of her, sitting like a normal human being while scribbling down her name, then practically shoving it at Neville, who took it with fumbling fingers but shrugged and wrote his name regardless. Hermione grinned in triumph, fully aware of exactly what she had just done.

Luna Lovegood took the parchment next, smiling dreamily at Harry. “I’m looking forward to ending Fudge’s rain of terror with his secret army of Heliopaths.” Hermione rolled her eyes, groaning, “Not this again…” But was saved of the spiel when Ginny placed a hand on Luna’s shoulder and took the parchment, doing her “Hem, hem,” once more and making the First Years nearly jump out of their skins with how good this imitation was. “With any luck we’ll all get to learn some jinxes and drive Umbridge from the castle ourselves.”

“Hear, hear!” Anthony exclaimed once more while Michael and Terry signed the paper and half the group raised their bottles - with Fred and George’s encouragement - in a chorus of, “Hear, hear!” (Draco muttered it while raising his and finally caught Anthony’s eyes, smiling shakily. He beamed back, and he found himself guzzling the rest of his Butterbeer down, slopping some onto his chin).

Surprisingly, Ernie looked hesitant on signing the paper.

“I - well, we are prefects,” He burst out in defense under Hermione’s gaze. “And if this list was found… well, I mean to say… you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out -”

“You just said this group was the most important thing you’d do this year,” Harry reminded him. “I - yes. Yes, I do believe that, it’s just -”

“Ernie, do you really think I’d leave that list lying around?” said Hermione testily, and the boy sighed, clearly defeated. “No. No, of course not. I - yes, of course, I’ll sign.” He slammed the parchment against the wall he stood by, startling Zacharias, who was still leaning against it, and scribbled his name hurriedly, before shoving it at Hannah Abbott. It was then passed along the line of Hufflepuff’s, who each raised no objections and still looked a little embarrassed at being laughed at earlier, before reaching Cedric, who grinned his usually dazzling way at Harry, causing Parvati and Lavender to swoon.

Justin shakily handed the parchment over to the Nott boy, then, seemingly just noticing he was there, who didn’t seem to notice as he wrote his name silently, followed by Tracey and Sue, who were still talking animatedly and probably unaware of what they were even signing. Daphne, however, was sitting attentively, and verified quickly with the Ravenclaw girl beside her if she really wanted to sign it before the girl nodded firmly and stole it from her hands.

Crabbe and Goyle even seemed very focused when they received the parchment, but as Lavender took it from them, she turned and, focusing only on the Gryffindors and not Draco, said, rather loudly, “I can’t imagine failing my O.W.L’s and having to redo them. So embarrassing, don’t you think?” Draco didn’t miss how her eyes flicked to the two admittedly thick boys, however, and scowled. “Brown, why are you looking at my friends like that?” She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest as if appalled by his words. “I would never!” Draco was clearly unconvinced but Harry’s hand on his knee from under the table kept him quiet as the Patil twins sighed.

Dean followed them, and then passed it along the group of chasers that were Angelina, Alicia, and Katie, before the list finally reached Zacharias Smith, who, after a moments of eyeing the forty plus names, signed his own, and Hermione beamed, taking it back from Ernie, and eyeing the names, Harry, Ron, and Draco looking over her shoulder at the long list;

Hermione Granger
Ron Weasley
Harry Potter
Draco Malfoy
Fred Weasley
George Weasley
Lee Jordan
Cho Chang
Marietta Edgecombe
Colin Creevey
Dennis Creevey
Garrison Lynch
Yolanda Avery
Rose Zeller
Nox Liu
Emma Whitby
Pansy Parkinson
Neville Longbottom
Luna Lovegood
Ginny Weasley
Michael Corner
Terry Boot
Anthony Goldstein
Ernie Macmillan
Hannah Abbott
Susan Bones
Cedric Diggory
Justin Finch-Fletchley
Theodore Nott
Tracey Davis
Sue Li
Daphne Greengrass
Astoria Greengrass
Vincent Crabbe
Gregory Goyle
Lavender Brown
Parvati Patil
Padma Patil
Dean Thomas
Angelina Johnson
Alicia Spinnet
Katie Bell
Zacharias Smith

“Forty-one… forty-two… forty-three!” Draco grinned at them all. “Impressive!”

The kids before them didn’t look at all like they felt impressive, shifting awkwardly on their feet as if they had made a deal with the devil and not a Quartet of fifth years.

“And a good number from each House, too.” Hermione said, as oblivious to the atmosphere as Draco, as she folded the letter and tucked it inside her bag. “Dumbledore would be pleased.”

“Well, time's ticking on,” Fred announced, hopping off his chair. “George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later.” And after that, the rest of the group squeezed their way out the doors, Pansy pushed through to be one of the first to leave and Harry could see, out the grimy windows, her waiting for Ernie Macmillan to step out and instantly grabbing his sleeve, dragging him along a road away from his Hufflepuff friends and talking madly in his ear.

When he turned around to face the pub again, he saw that Cho was taking a lot longer than was most likely necessary to pull a bag over her shoulder and fasten it. But Marietta was waiting at the doors and so she was forced to leave despite clearly wanting to stay back for a reason Harry could only dream of. She did manage to wave back at him with a smile before vanishing out the doors, though.

“Well, I think that went quite well,” Hermione then said, leading the group out of the doors then stopping abruptly at the sight of the curly haired blonde in Ravenclaw robes waiting at the foot of the broken steps. “Oh! Hi. Can we -”

Draco pushed through her quickly, nearly tripping over on the steps again, and stood before Anthony, looking guilty. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you!” He exclaimed as the boy opened his mouth, and felt relief flood him immediately at the quick smile on the boy's face. “It’s alright, you’ve probably been busy with all of this,” He gestured to the Hog’s Head, “And prefect duties,” He winced, “I never imagined they’d be this bad.”

Draco shrugged. “They’re… they’re alright…” He kicked at the dirt as he realized the conversation was coming to a stand still, feeling the awkward exchanges of looks between Harry, Hermione, and Ron behind him already.

“So what’re… what have you been meaning to talk about?” Anthony asked and Draco paled because well, he didn’t know what he wanted to talk about, he just knew he needed to talk again, because Anthony was the only boy who’d made him feel like he had with Harry last year and he was desperate to feel that again, if he was being honest. And Harry… Well, he didn’t know if that boy would ever laugh like he did at his birthday party again.

“Do you wanna get drinks? And I mean good drinks.” He tossed his bottle into a rubbish bin. “Not this stuff, real good stuff.” Anthony smirked. “The good, good stuff?” Draco grinned. “Yeah.”

“Sure. The Three Broomsticks is crowded, as always, but I’m sure we’ll make room.” He looked behind Draco’s shoulders at the Gryffindor trio. “If that’s okay with you three?” Draco turned to them too, seeing them as confused as expected, and tried to beg with his eyes for them to let him go. They mumbled various ‘OK’s and Anthony beamed.

“Brilliant! Well, Draco, shall we?” He gestured down the road just as he had to the Quidditch stands and Draco laughed a real genuine thing that almost surprised him, as he hadn’t heard that sound very often these days, so whenever he did, he was taken aback. But the last time he’d laughed like that he’d been with Anthony, hadn’t he? What was it with this boy…? “We shall, Anthony, we shall…”

-*-*-*-

“And then,” Draco gasped, placing down his fourth glass of butterbeer (because Madam Rosmerta had taken one look at them when they requested Firewhiskey and given a firm “No”, settling for spiking their butterbeers enough to get them off her chest) and hiccuping before continuing his story to a bent over with laughs Anthony Goldstein (because they were both great at Charms and had managed to keep refilling their glasses with the spiked liquid and get a bit more than ‘tipsy.’) “Seeing us all standing there, water to our knees, mermaids shrieking bloody murder, he tells us, ‘I don’t even want to know’ and LEAVES!” Draco smacks his knee and breaks into laughs as well while Anthony struggles to wipe tears of joy from his eyes.

“He didn’t even give you detention after all that?” He asked after somewhat composing himself, though his eyes were still watery. Or maybe that was the butterbeer, Draco didn’t know, as his vision was starting to become very blurry around the edges. “Nope. I think he was just exhausted over the whole thing. In any case, I doubt any other group of Slytherins has worn Snape down that much, or any kids for that matter.” He raised his hand high, grinning, “Achievement unlocked, right?” Anthony nodded, laughing and high fiving him before downing the rest of his glass, then fumbling for his wand.

“Oh, it isn’t working…” He said, his speech heavily slurred as he flicked his wand and attempted the spell again on the remnants of the drink at the bottom of his glass, but the golden mixture only fizzled, and he pouted. “Hey, could we have another round!” He called, waving a hand and catching Madam Rosmerta’s attention not because of it, but of the obviously drunken speech.

Her eyes widened and she ran over to them, hands on her hips. “Boys,” The two grinned, Draco raised his glass to her and said, “Yuh huh,” before downing the rest of his drink as well. “I gave you each a glass.”

“Yep and we er--” Draco hiccuped again, banged a fist against his chest, dropped said fist, then began to drop his head before Anthony snapped his fingers in front of him and he blinked, sputtering, “Wha…?”

Rosmerta eyed their wands, the buttery foam around their mouths, and their bloodshot eyes, and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and realizing right then and there she’d never have a dull day on a Hogsmeade weekend.

An hour later, Harry and Hermione were sat on either side of Draco as he puked into a bucket, and Ron had Anthony’s arm slung over his shoulder, the boy having gone out cold as soon as he was given Rosmerta’s signature formula she’d reassured them would get them sober within two hours, and hungover in one. Draco had gotten sick quickly after that, and after several restroom breaks had gone back to puking, now in an alley behind the Three Broomsticks, away from peering eyes that would be quick to relinquish the foolish boys of their prefect duties.

“What were you thinking?” Hermione growled when Draco at last surfaced and wiped his face with the towel Harry handed him. “You are a prefect for Merlin’s sake but no, you just had to get drunk with your crush because then maybe you’d have the guts to ask him out!” All the boys, including Draco, though mostly because of his overall confusion with the pounding headache Rosmerta’s drink had given him, turned to her in surprise and she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, honestly, you haven’t noticed? You couldn’t even look him in the eyes in the Hog’s Head and keep blushing at any mention of his name!” Harry blinked, turning his head from Hermione to the very green looking Draco, and frowning deeply. “Wait, wait, wait, you like… boys?”

“Well yeah,” Draco placed the towel down, turning to face Harry with drooping eyes but more focus than a few minutes ago, which was a good sign, he supposed. “Have you seen Cedric Diggory shirtless?” While Ron shrugged in a ‘that’s fair’ way, clearly not minding the sudden news at all, Harry felt his mind reeling, turning his head between his three friends, still wide eyed.

“Yeah, but… Okay, boys are attractive but boys can’t be with boys, right? It’s boys and girls, that’s it.” Hermione blinked, then started to smile and shake her head as Draco threw his head back and laughed.

“Harry, sometimes you can be really thick…” She said as Draco grabbed his head, wincing, then began to vomit once more into the bucket.

It was a few more minutes of a confused Harry and amused Hermione rubbing Draco’s back as he retched before the group was interrupted, this time because Harry looked up idly at their surroundings and sprung to his feet in an instant, horrified, exclaiming, “No!”

“What, what is it?” Hermione asked, looking around in confusion, only seeing what Harry was seeing when the bushes before them, overgrown around stored barrels, began to bark and, a moment later, a great big black dog burst through the green leaves and bounded towards Harry, standing up on its hind legs to place it’s paws on his shoulders.

“Sir-Snuffles!” Harry scolded, pushing his godfather off of him and glaring. “You are not supposed to be here!”

Sirius merely wagged his tale and hopped in a circle on his paws before bounding back into the bushes, pushing a barrel to the side as he ran. The Quartet, including Draco, who had raised his head from the bucket in surprise, glanced at each other worriedly only once before following, Harry leading and running at full speed through the overgrown greenery, with Hermione and Ron dragging Draco along behind him, leaving a still unconscious Anthony behind on the stone steps.

Emerging from the bushes Harry pulled himself over a wooden gate and could see, through the crowds of bustling regular Hogsmeade goers and Hogwarts students the shape of a black dark running down the roads and outside the perimeter of the town, and followed, passerby too distracted in their own busy business or whatever they were talking about to care about the dog, two boys, or girl with a hungover boy.

Sirius leapt over the wooden gates surrounding Hogsmeade and continued on, and it was only now Harry recognized they were running towards the cave he had stayed at a majority of the previous year with Buckbeak, confirmed by the distinct noise of Buckbeak flapping his wings as they got closer.

Once they arrived in the cave, the group found Sirius out of his dog form and into his human form, and Hermione immediately got started on scolding, dropping Draco and his vomit bucket to the cold floor below.

“Sirius! You shouldn’t be out, we warned you what might happen if you were seen! Oh, the Ministry will have a field day if they catch you. They’ll pull public attention away from V-V-Voldemort for the first time all summer and back to the ‘escaped Azkaban convict’ and give Fudge the perfect opportunity to do whatever he wants with Dumbledore… Oh…” She stopped ranting suddenly, looking thoughtful. “Oh…”

Sirius meanwhile, grinned in his usual reckless way. “Hello to you too, Hermione. And yes, that’s exactly the plan. My plan, at least.” He plopped down criss-cross on the dirt floor and clapped his hands together, looking absolutely thrilled with himself. “Just think of it; I’ll have finally done something to aid the Order,” (Draco didn’t have to worry about what the ‘Order’ was as he currently was back to retching in the bucket from all that running and couldn’t pay his cousin much attention) “and I’ll have done it by doing exactly what everyones been telling me not to do.” His grin grew wider as he no doubt dreamed of the possibilities. “Maybe then Dumbledore will finally let me out once in a while, just to keep the rumors running.”

“I’m confused,” Harry said, coming further into the cave to sit down across from Sirius, Ron and Hermione soon sitting on either side of him. “Do we want the public to know Voldemort is back or not?” Sirius dropped his grin and raised an eyebrow at the group playfully.

“Well, you just told forty kids he was and weren’t stopped, so what do you think?” Harry’s jaw dropped to the floor.

“How did you know about that?” He demanded and Sirius’ grin broadened. “You want to choose your meeting place more carefully,” He tutted, “The Hog’s head, I ask you.”

“Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!” Hermione instantly defended as Draco rose from the bucket to yell, “I didn’t have to go into that dust bowl?” but was ignored. “That’s always packed with people -”

“Which means you’d have been harder to overhear,” Sirius pointed out. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Hermione.” Harry didn’t care about learning, right about now, he wanted to understand things. “Who overheard us?” He demanded, once more.

“Mundungus, of course,” Sirius explained, but as their confused expressions continued to explain, “He was the witch under the veil. Nearly lost it when he saw me at the window, but I was gone before he could stand, and like I said, they’ll all be grateful soon.” Harry had to note Hermione didn’t look the least bit convinced, but had other thoughts on his mind than worrying about that.

“What was he doing in the Hog’s Head?”

“What do you think he was doing?” Sirius suddenly looked very impatient with his godson. “Keeping an eye on you, of course.” Harry pressed his brows together, starting to feel himself grow angry against his better judgment because he already had found out there were spies on Privet Drive, but at Hogwarts too? “I’m still being followed?”

“Yeah, you are, and just as well, isn’t it, if the first thing you’re going to do on your weekend off is organize an illegal defense group.” Sirius raised his chin and grinned at him with pride.

“But we were trying to help too!” Hermione exclaimed, eyes wide in almost panic, and Ron jumped to her side in a second even as she opened her mouth to continue. “Percy sent us a letter. He thinks Fudge wants us to--” “Band together a bunch of kids who believe Voldemort’s back so he’ll have people on his side when the news reaches the public.” Sirius smirked at their stunned expressions. “He lives at Grimmauld Place, you know, with me. Tess says she likes me and my ‘company’ but we all know she’s just a sweetheart who thinks I should have some social interaction. I don’t mind; they’re not bad company, really, at least not together. Anyway, he’s been writing to Dumbledore, as you know. He’s not as much of a shut-in as he was over the Summer anymore; he tells us everything.” They softened with realization.

“So,” Hermione leaned closer to Sirius slightly, keen to know if they were doing the right thing, clearly, “What does the Order think?” (Again, Draco was consumed with vomiting, though they were noticeably becoming more spaced apart intervals)

“We’re almost impressed. With Fudge, I mean. Dumbledore’s still worried one wrong move could cause his loose plan to collapse, but it’s a plan nonetheless, and that’s impressive, considering that man’s track record. However,” Sirius looked at the group with clear fake seriousness, judging by the glint in his eyes. “I’m not sure how they’ll feel about you turning this Pro-Voldemort Is Back Society into a little private army for Fudge, however.”

The trio of Gryffindor winced and glanced at each other, Hermione beginning to explain herself with, “Well we thought if we got people to come together under the goal of going against Umrbidge…” But stopping at the grin on Sirius’s face. “... And you want us to do it, don't you.”

“I think it’s an excellent idea!” Hermione frowned but Harry and Ron immediately brightened. “D’you think your father and I would’ve laid down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?”

“Last term you wanted nothing more than for Harry to be surrounded by a baby-proof environment!” Draco called behind them, wiping his face with the towel and finally placing the bucket aside, beginning to crawl across the floor towards them. “Why are you all for risk taking now?”

“First off, are you hungover?” Sirius pointed at the boy, confused, and he gave a thumbs up, nodding, causing his cousin to almost look impressed. “Huh. Anyway, no, your four, last year was a lot different. All evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill Harry and Malfoy! This year, we know there’s someone outside Hogwarts who’d like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!”

“And if we do get expelled?” Hermione asked, still looking very concerned about her life choices, which was quite ironic, actually, considering; “Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!” Harry stared at her in shock as she merely shrugged, wiping the concern clean off her dark face. “I know it was. I just wondered what Sirius thought.”

“Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue,” Sirius pointed out then, after a “hear hear” from Harry and Ron continued, “Besides, you said it yourselves; this is what Fudge wants, he’d only expel you to fit Umbridge’s delusions than get you back in Hogwarts easily. So stop worrying and think of the important things like… how are you going to organize this thing? Where are you meeting?”

“The Room of Requirement.” The Quartet said in unison, causing Sirius to widen his eyes, taken aback.

“Never heard of it…” He said suspiciously because he was positive he had made a map of all of Hogwarts; James had insisted even the dungeons were perfect from his long interrogation of Regulus (he tried to not be too suspicious of just how long), Remus had studied all Hogwarts records and verified there wasn’t a single room written that they missed, and even Peter had scouted out every broom cupboard, twice, and verified they’d gotten all the ones with secret passages. So what could they possibly have missed?

“It doesn’t appear on any maps, or texts,” Hermione explained, noting his resented expression, “The only way I learned its name was from a fake passage Barty Crouch Jr made in a book on purpose to lead us to it. One can only find it by a lucky accident.”

“You have to pace in front of a blank wall three times while concentrating on what you require, and a door will appear, the inside room taking the shape of said requirement. Hence, the Room of Requirement.” Harry explained, and Sirius leaned back on his hands, a grin once again spreading on his face.

“Huh, now isn’t that neat,” He smiled sincerely at his godson for a moment, remembrance and nostalgia shining in his eyes. “Your father would be really proud of you, Harry.”

There’s a pause, in which Harry can only admire his godfather’s incredible compliment, then he’s lunging himself across the cave floor and into his arms, holding on tight without any idea of when or even if he’ll let go. Because he’s here he’s really here, and after all the headaches, all the nightmares, all the instances of screaming at his friends he doesn’t understand why he even does, he just needs him to be there.

“Harry, it’s alright.” But he knows it can’t last forever, and when he pulls back, seeing for once the recklessness leave Sirius’s eyes so he can just take the boy in and nod, telling him it’ll be alright in every way he can. Even then, he has to pry his hands from his arms and stand for Harry to let go, sitting on the floor, stunned.

He doesn’t he Sirius saying goodbye to him and the others, he doesn’t hear him comment how the Prophet’s probably drafting a story about Harry Potter and his friends chasing a black dog to a cave right now, he doesn't hear his footsteps as he leaves, he can only sit, shivering on the floor, from cold or anger or grief, he does not know or care.

But when Draco places a hand on his shoulder and whispers, “C’mon, Potts, we have to go.” He stands up straight all at once and turns on his heel sharply to march out, fists clenched at his sides, head down, exiting Hogsmeade with a hole in his heart that had forever been something he knew he carried, only briefly flooding at the presence of Sirius, and now drained out to be as dry as a desert wasteland with his absence.

If his friends are following him as he jogs his way down the path back to the castle, he does not notice.

-*-*-*-

“Did you hear? They found a place to do it!”

“It?”

“You know, it. Dean just told me, who heard it from Neville--”

“- Who heard it from Ginny, yeah, I know. So… Where’s it gonna be?”

“The Room of Requirement!”

Professor McGonagall had been told of the Room of Requirement from Dumbledore, but pretended to pay Miss Patil and Miss Brown no attention because surely they were just talking about a place to gossip or kiss boys (Merlin help them) or form an extracurricular in secret in response to the newly released decree ‘High Inquisitor’ Umbridge had so kindly announced that morning. The more she thought about it, the more the last one seemed likely, and so she simply corrected the girl's wand movement then moved on to making sure she prevented Mr Finnegan from another disaster.

“Hey, have you heard the news?”

“What new - Oh, yeah! ‘Course I have!”

“I can’t believe it’s tonight!”

“What time again?”

“Eight.”

If later asked what he thought of this highly suspicious conversation he so happened to be close to while hurrying down the Hufflepuff table to use the boy’s lavatory, Professor Flitwick would wave a hand and say he was much more preoccupied with admiring the Weasley twins Charm work on their newest Skiving Snackboxes, rather than whatever Miss Abbott and Mr Macmillan were discussing. They were prefect’s, after all, so it couldn’t possibly have been anything out of the ordinary.

“You’re coming right? Tonight?”

“I’m on the list.”

“Do you really have to come?”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware how much you hated my presence, Goyle. Of course I have to come. Is it such a crime that I want to learn to defend myself?”

“No, but it does sound danger -”

“They're probably going to have to bubble wrap the Room of Requirement place just to make sure you don’t kill any of us in it.”

“If it even exists…”

Hear any suspicious activity? Never! Besides, Professor Grubbly-Plank is just a substitute teacher. She’s here to teach, get paid, and try not to let Albus the-disaster-magnet Dumbledore get her killed, so no, a pack of Slytherins were certainly not just discussing learning to defend themselves in secret in a room she’s never heard of before, why do you ask?

-*-*-*-

Eight o’clock at Hogwarts is almost always the same, with cold and quiet hallways you could drop a pin in, and be heard a mile away from the echo. With glass windows overlooking a dark landscape lit only by torchlight, giving off an eerie feeling as you can’t truly make out the dark shapes crossing the grass. As you never know what is happening outside of the bubble of your little world at that moment.

But this Tuesday, the night is very different. You can’t hear a pin drop because it would be drowned out by the sound of thirty-nine pairs of feet, who aren't going to be caught as eight of them are prefect’s, giving a sort of metaphorical Protego to the bunch. Even the windows aren’t things this group can gaze out and realize how small they are, when stuffed onto squishy cushions in a square box room they’ve all never been in before there isn’t a single window in sight. It’s as if they are in their own little world, their own little pocket dimension, so there is no Hogwarts at eight o’clock.

But there is the Hogwarts Order of Defense.

Ginny had suggested ‘Dumbledore’s Army’, which was admittedly catchy, but when Ginny started explaining ‘armies’ and ‘Ministry’s worst fear’, the Quartet had glanced at each other and shook their heads, frowning deeply, because that was clearly the opposite of the message they were trying to send. So she’d stopped talking, leaving the group quiet for a moment. Then Draco turned to Harry, asking about Sirius mentioning an ‘Order’ (clearly he had heard) and when Harry had explained this quickly, he frowned, in deep thought, before proposing, “Order of the Owls?”

“We are taking our OWLs this year.” Ernie pointed out with his usual wide eyed grin, but Neville said, “Sounds too similar,” clearly knowing what the Order of the Phoenix was already.

Luna grinned faintly. “We’re all of Hogwarts, aren’t we?” She gestured a hand towards the crowd of students surrounding her, sporting red, green, yellow, and blue. “That’s special…”

“Order of Hogwarts?” Ginny asked her, raising an eyebrow and she shrugged, clearly having said her piece, so Draco placed a hand to his chin gently, pacing back and forth as Hermione stared at the ceiling, thinking as well. “Sounds too close to the Order of Merlin…” She noted just as Draco stopped and snapped his fingers.

“Hogwarts Order of Defense!” He grinned at Luna, who smiled back, and everyone made various announcements of their agreement to the name.

So the Hogwarts Order of Defense is born; Formed in a dusty bar under several watchful eyes they don’t even know about; lead by The Boy Who Lived, a natural teacher from the start; flourishing in the halls and classrooms where they must whisper their secrets, feeling a rush of rebellion fill them every time; but born in the Room of Requirement, as a majority vote is called by Founder Hermione Granger, the title is written by Co-Founder Draco Malfoy, the leader is elected to be Mr. Harry Potter, and a chant of the name is started and spread by Secretary Ron Weasley.

This is the Hogwarts Order of Defense, a bunch of long or stout, skinny or curvy, shy or nerdy, rambunctious or ambitious, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw students. All of Hogwarts, here to protect it in the kind of unity their Headmaster would tear up at the sight of, so when his brother reaches out to him with an overly shedding owl landing on his desk that previous Sunday, telling him forty-three kids came into his bar to form an illegal defense group, led by Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Draco Malfoy, he set the letter on fire then and there, because if Umbridge is to come knocking with rumors about it, he’ll be as oblivious as the rest of his loyal staff.

Oblivious, and proud. So very proud.