───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Knowing that she would be talked about once more, Blair didn't go to breakfast for days after the sacking of Professor Trelawney. Draco would come and sit beside her and give her the usual toast. On the first day, Blair apologized for calling out his father in the Quibbler, but Draco smiled and wrapped an arm around her, telling her he was fine.

It would be their first Divination class with Firenze that morning and Blair stared at the Black Lake while throwing stones at it. Her mind was all over the place. Dumbledore was back to ignoring her, she was still having Occlumency lessons with Harry and Snape and those were taking huge tolls on the both of them because Blair seemed to be growing worse with her abilities, her scar kept on prickling and she would suddenly feel bursts of anger coming at random times and then there was Umbridge, who was now adamant on watching Blair's every move.

"Blair," said Draco, sitting down and giving her toast.

Blair smiled slightly and took it, "Thanks, Draco." The two of them sat in silence, watching the view when suddenly, someone sat beside Blair.

"Merlin's beard, Harry." Blair said, holding a hand to her chest.

Harry laughed and ruffled her hair. "Good morning, Aika... Draco."

Draco smiled back at him. "Good morning, Harry."

The two of them stared at each other, smiling, before Blair cleared her throat. "I'm still here." Harry chuckled while Draco blushed as he looked away from Harry.

Blair slung her arms over their shoulders before standing up. "I'm going to look for Ronnie so have a great time, you two." Blair skipped away cheerfully and grinned when she saw Ron and Hermione coming out of the Great Hall.

"Mione!" Blair said before jumping onto Ron.

"Wha-"

Taken by surprise, Ron couldn't catch Blair and they fell to the ground, laughing out loud. Hermione laughed as well before helping them up. Blair leaned in and kissed Hermione on the cheek. "Good morning, love."

"Good morning." Hermione grinned back and took Blair's hand.

Ron grumbled and rubbed his back. "You jump onto me and not a single hi?"

Blair chuckled before slinging an arm over Ron's shoulder. "Good morning, Ronnie."

Hermione then let go of Blair's hand. "I'll see you guys later."

Blair and Ron waved at her before going on their way. Blair was about to go up to the North Tower when Ron held her back. "Come on, Parvati said we're in classroom eleven. You don't expect Firenze to climb that ladder, do you?"

"Maybe, he'd ask us to push him up by the butt." Blair said and the two of them laughed again. The two of the stopped at the entrance hall where they saw Cedric kissing a flustered Harry on the cheek, and that was when she realized Harry only really saw Draco as a friend and it was only Cedric he liked. Cedric waved happily to them before he left, and Blair and Ron wiggled their eyebrows at Harry.

"Shut up." Harry mumbled with a grin, leading the way to Classroom 11.

Classroom eleven was situated in the ground-floor corridor leading off the entrance hall on the opposite side to the Great Hall. Blair knew it to be one of those classrooms that were never used regularly, and that it therefore had the slightly neglected feeling of a cupboard or storeroom. When she entered it right behind Harry and Ron, and found herself right in the middle of a forest clearing, she was therefore momentarily stunned. "What the — ?"

The classroom floor had become springily mossy and trees were growing out of it; their leafy branches fanned across the ceiling and windows, so that the room was full of slanting shafts of soft, dappled, green light.

The students who had already arrived were sitting on the earthy floor with their backs resting against tree trunks or boulders, arms wrapped around their knees or folded tightly across their chests, looking rather nervous. In the middle of the room, where there were no trees, stood Firenze. "Harry Potter, Blair Wood," he said, holding out a hand when Blair and Harry entered.

"Er — hi," said Harry, shaking hands with the centaur.

"Good to see you..." Blair said, shaking his hand as well.

"And you," said the centaur, inclining his white-blond head. "It was foretold that we would meet again." 

Harry nudged Blair and motioned subtly to Firenze's chest. Blair noticed that there was the shadow of a hoof-shaped bruise on Firenze's chest, and they shared uneasy glances. As they turned to join the rest of the class upon the floor, they saw that they were all looking at them with awe, apparently deeply impressed that they were on speaking terms with Firenze, whom they seemed to find intimidating.

When the door was closed and the last student had sat down upon a tree stump beside the wastepaper basket, Firenze gestured around the room. "Professor Dumbledore has kindly arranged this classroom for us," said Firenze, when everyone had settled down, "in imitation of my natural habitat. I would have preferred to teach you in the Forbidden Forest, which was — until Monday — my home... but this is not possible."

"Please — er — sir —" said Parvati breathlessly, raising her hand, "why not? We've been in there with Hagrid, we're not frightened!"

"It is not a question of your bravery," said Firenze, "but of my position. I can no longer return to the forest. My herd has banished me."

"Herd?" said Lavender in a confused voice. "What — oh!" Comprehension dawned on her face. "There are more of you?" she said, stunned.

"Did Hagrid breed you, like the thestrals?" asked Dean eagerly.

Firenze turned his head very slowly to face Dean, who seemed to realize at once that he had said something very offensive. "I didn't — I meant — sorry," he finished in a hushed voice.

"Centaurs are not the servants or playthings of humans," said Firenze quietly. 

There was a pause, then Parvati raised her hand again. "Please, sir... why have the other centaurs banished you?"

"Because I have agreed to work for Professor Dumbledore," said Firenze. "They see this as a betrayal of our kind."

Blair and Harry glanced at each other, remembering how Bane had shouted at Firenze for allowing Blair and Harry to ride to safety upon his back, calling him a "common mule." Blair wondered whether it had been Bane who had kicked Firenze in the chest.

"Let us begin," said Firenze. He swished his long palomino tail, raised his hand toward the leafy canopy overhead then lowered it slowly, and as he did so, the light in the room dimmed, so that they now seemed to be sitting in a forest clearing by twilight, and stars emerged upon the ceiling. There were oohs and gasps, and Ron said audibly, "Blimey!"

"Lie back upon the floor," said Firenze in his calm voice, "and observe the heavens. Here is written, for those who can see, the fortune of our races." Blair stretched out on her back and gazed upward at the ceiling. A twinkling red star winked at her from overhead.

"I know that you have learned the names of the planets and their moons in Astronomy," said Firenze's calm voice, "and that you have mapped the stars' progress through the heavens. Centaurs have unraveled the mysteries of these movements over centuries. Our findings teach us that the future may be glimpsed in the sky above us..."

"Professor Trelawney did Astrology with us!" said Parvati excitedly, raising her hand in front of her so that it stuck up in the air as she lay on her back. "Mars causes accidents and burns and things like that, and when it makes an angle to Saturn, like now" — she drew a right angle in the air above her — "that means that people need to be extra careful when handling hot things —"

"That," said Firenze calmly, "is human nonsense." Parvati's hand fell limply to her side.

"Trivial hurts, tiny human accidents," said Firenze, as his hooves thudded over the mossy floor. "These are of no more significance than the scurryings of ants to the wide universe, and are unaffected by planetary movements."

"Professor Trelawney —" began Parvati, in a hurt and indignant voice.

"— is a human," said Firenze simply. "And is therefore blinkered and fettered by the limitations of your kind." Blair turned her head very slightly to look at Parvati. She looked very offended, as did several of the people surrounding her.

"Sibyll Trelawney may have Seen, I do not know," continued Firenze, and Blair heard the swishing of his tail again as he walked up and down before them, "but she wastes her time, in the main, on the self-flattering nonsense humans call fortune-telling. I, however, am here to explain the wisdom of centaurs, which is impersonal and impartial. We watch the skies for the great tides of evil or change that are sometimes marked there. It may take ten years to be sure of what we are seeing."

Firenze pointed to the red star directly above Blair. "In the past decade, the indications have been that Wizard-kind is living through nothing more than a brief calm between two wars. Mars, bringer of battle, shines brightly above us, suggesting that the fight must break out again soon. How soon, centaurs may attempt to divine by the burning of certain herbs and leaves, by the observation of fume and flame..."

It was the most unusual lesson Blair had ever attended. They did indeed burn sage and mallowsweet there on the classroom floor, and Firenze told them to look for certain shapes and symbols in the pungent fumes, but he seemed perfectly unconcerned that not one of them could see any of the signs he described, telling them that humans were hardly ever good at this, that it took centaurs years and years to become competent, and finished by telling them that it was foolish to put too much faith in such things anyway, because even centaurs sometimes read them wrongly. He was nothing like any human teacher Blair had ever had. His priority did not seem to be to teach them what he knew, but rather to impress upon them that nothing, not even centaurs' knowledge, was foolproof.

"He's not very definite on anything, is he?" said Ron in a low voice, as they put out their mallowsweet fire. "I mean, I could do with a few more details about this war we're about to have, couldn't you?"

The bell rang right outside the classroom door and everyone jumped; Blair had completely forgotten that they were still inside the castle, quite convinced that he was really in the forest. The class filed out, looking slightly perplexed; Blair, Harry and Ron were on the point of following them when Firenze called, "Blair Wood, a word, please."

Blair turned. The centaur advanced a little toward them. Harry and Ron hesitated. "You may stay," Firenze told them. "But close the door, please." Harry and Ron hastened to obey.

"Blair Wood, you are a friend of Hagrid's, are you not?" said the centaur.

"Yes, all of us are," said Blair.

"Then give him a warning from me. His attempt is not working. He would do better to abandon it." Blair, Harry and Ron exchanged confused glances.

"His attempt is not working?" Blair repeated blankly.

"And he would do better to abandon it," said Firenze, nodding. "I would warn Hagrid myself, but I am banished — it would be unwise for me to go too near the forest now — Hagrid has troubles enough, without a centaurs' battle."

"But — what's Hagrid attempting to do?" said Blair nervously.

Firenze looked at Blair impassively. "Hagrid has recently rendered me a great service," said Firenze, "and he has long since earned my respect for the care he shows all living creatures. I shall not betray his secret. But he must be brought to his senses. The attempt is not working. Tell him, Blair Wood. Good day to you."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The happiness Blair felt in the aftermath of The Quibbler interview had long since evaporated. As a dull March blurred into a squally April, her life seemed to have become one long series of worries and problems again.

Umbridge had continued attending all Care of Magical Creatures lessons, so it had been very difficult to deliver Firenze's warning to Hagrid. At last Blair had managed it by pretending she had lost her copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and doubling back after class one day.

When she passed on Firenze's message, Hagrid gazed at her for a moment through his puffy, blackened eyes, apparently taken aback. Then he seemed to pull himself together. "Nice bloke, Firenze," he said gruffly, "but he don' know what he's talkin' abou' on this. The attemp's comin' on fine."

"Hagrid, what're you up to?" asked Blair seriously. "Because you've got to be careful, Umbridge has already sacked Trelawney and if you ask me, she's on a roll. If you're doing anything you shouldn't be —"

"Yer one to talk, lil' B. She's onto yer as well. There's things more importan' than keepin' a job," said Hagrid, though his hands shook slightly as he said this and a basin full of knarl droppings crashed to the floor. "Don' worry abou' me, Lil' B, jus' get along now, there's a good lass..."

Blair had no choice but to leave Hagrid mopping up the dung all over his floor, but she felt thoroughly dispirited as he trudged back up to the castle.

Meanwhile, as the teachers and Hermione persisted in reminding them, the O.W.L.s were drawing ever nearer. All the fifth years were suffering from stress to some degree, but Hannah Abbott became the first to receive a Calming Draught from Madam Pomfrey after she burst into tears during Herbology and sobbed that she was too stupid to take exams and wanted to leave school now.

If it had not been for the D.A. lessons and Hermione, Blair thought she would have been extremely unhappy. She sometimes felt that she was living for the hours she spent in the Room of Requirement, working hard but thoroughly enjoying herself at the same time, swelling with pride as she looked around at her fellow D.A. members and saw how far they had come.

Indeed, Blair sometimes wondered how Umbridge was going to react when all the members of the D.A. received "Outstanding" in their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.s. They had finally started work on Patronuses, which everybody had been very keen to practice, though as Blair and Harry kept reminding them, producing a Patronus in the middle of a brightly lit classroom when they were not under threat was very different to producing it when confronted by something like a dementor.

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy," said Cho brightly, watching her silvery swan-shaped Patronus soar around the Room of Requirement during their last lesson before Easter. "They're so pretty!"

"They're not supposed to be pretty, they're supposed to protect you," said Harry patiently. "What we really need is a boggart or something; that's how we learned, we had to conjure a Patronus while the boggart was pretending to be a dementor —"

"But that would be really scary!" said Lavender, who was shooting puffs of silver vapor out of the end of her wand. "And I still — can't — do it!" she added angrily.

Neville was having trouble too. His face was screwed up in concentration, but only feeble wisps of silver smoke issued from his wand tip. "You've got to think of something happy," Blair reminded him.

"I'm trying," said Neville miserably, who was trying so hard his round face was actually shining with sweat.

"Try thinking of Ginny," Blair whispered with a wink as she walked on. She was pleased when a silver horse came from Neville's wand and ran around the room with Ginny's silver horse.

"Blair, I think I'm doing it!" yelled Seamus, who had been brought along to his first ever D.A. meeting by Dean. "Look — ah — it's gone... But it was definitely something hairy, Blair!"

Harry had went over to Cedric and squeezed the older boy's hand, seeing his trouble with the Charm. "You alright, Ced?"

Cedric just grinned all of a sudden, making Harry surprised. "Of course, why didn't I think of you?" The remark made the Boy Who Lived blush and he was about to move away but Cedric intertwined their fingers and closed his eyes, a soft smile coming onto his face when he remembered how he kissed Harry's cheek a month ago. "Expecto patronum."

And from the tip of Cedric's wand came a silver badger, running around the room. He grinned at Harry who couldn't help himself from smiling back, the two of them lost in each other's eyes for somehow, their happiest memories became that of each other.

Blair grinned at the moment and then went to her girlfriend, "Having trouble, love?"

Hermione pouted at her. "How do you do it so well?"

"Well, close your eyes."

As Hermione closed her eyes, she shivered when she felt Blair's breath near her ear, and Blair whispered. "Think of a happy memory, and concentrate on it."

A memory came into Hermione's mind, the night when she finally confessed to Blair and the soft feeling of her lips against Blair's and she raised her wand. "Expecto patronum!"

Hermione opened her eyes and grinned. A shining silver otter started gamboling around her. "They are sort of nice, aren't they?" she said, looking at it fondly.

"So, what memory did you think of?" asked Blair, trying to keep her voice disinterested, but the curiosity was evident in her tone.

"I thought of the day we got together. The way you look at me and make me feel all the love in the world, and the way our lips meet perfectly. There were so many moments to choose from, but that's what made me the happiest. That's what I thought of," said Hermione softly.

Blair smiled softly and intertwined their fingers. "You're amazing, you are, Mione."

"I'm yours, Blair," said Hermione, leaning in for a kiss, but suddenly...

The door of the Room of Requirement opened and then closed again; Blair and Hermione looked at each other before she let go of Hermione and looked around, but there did not seem to be anybody there. It was a few moments before she realized that the people close to the door had fallen silent. 

Next thing she knew, something was tugging at her robes somewhere near the knee. She looked down and saw, to her very great astonishment, Dobby peering up at her from beneath his usual eight hats. "Hi, Dobby!" she said. "What are you — what's wrong?"

For the elf's eyes were wide with terror and he was shaking. The members of the D.A. closest to Blair had fallen silent now: Everybody in the room was watching Dobby. The few Patronuses people had managed to conjure faded away into silver mist, leaving the room looking much darker than before.

"Blair Wood, miss..." squeaked the elf, trembling from head to foot, "Blair Wood, miss... Sir Draco has told Dobby... Dobby has come to warn you... but the house-elves have been warned not to tell..." He ran headfirst at the wall: Blair made to seize him, but Dobby merely bounced off the stone, cushioned by his eight hats. Hermione and a few of the other girls let out squeaks of fear and sympathy.

"What's happened, Dobby?" Harry asked, running to them. Blair grabbed the elf's tiny arm and held him away from anything with which he might seek to hurt himself.

"Harry Potter... Blair Wood... she... she..." Dobby hit himself hard on the nose with his free fist: Blair seized that too.

"Who's 'she,' Dobby?" Harry asked.

But Blair thought she knew — surely only one "she" could induce such fear in Dobby? The elf looked up at them, slightly cross-eyed, and mouthed wordlessly. "Umbridge?" asked Blair, horrified. Dobby nodded, then tried to bang his head off Harry's knees; Blair and Harry held him at bay.

Blair held him by the shoulders. "What about her? Dobby — she hasn't found out about this — about us — about the D.A.?" Blair read the answer in the elf's stricken face. His hands held fast by Blair and Harry, the elf tried to kick himself and fell to the floor.

"Is she coming?" Harry asked quietly.

Dobby let out a howl, and began beating his bare feet hard on the floor. "Yes, Harry Potter, yes!"

Blair and Harry nodded at each other before Harry straightened up and looked around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at the thrashing elf. "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Harry bellowed. "RUN!"

They all pelted toward the exit at once, forming a scrum at the door, then people burst through; Blair could hear them sprinting along the corridors and hoped they had the sense not to try and make it all the way to their dormitories. It was only ten to nine, if they just took refuge in the library or the Owlery, which were both nearer —

"Blair, Harry, come on!" shrieked Hermione from the center of the knot of people now fighting to get out.

Blair scooped up Dobby, who was still attempting to do himself serious injury, and ran with the elf in her arms to join the back of the queue. "Dobby — this is an order — get back down to the kitchen with the other elves, and if she asks you whether you or Draco warned us, lie and say no!" said Blair. "And I forbid you to hurt yourself!" she added, dropping the elf as she made it over the threshold at last and slamming the door behind her.

"Thank you, Blair Wood!" squeaked Dobby, and he streaked off. Blair glanced left and right, the others were all moving so fast that she caught only glimpses of flying heels at either end of the corridor before they vanished. Blair and Harry ran together, as there was a boys' bathroom up ahead.

"AAARGH!" Something caught them around the ankles and they fell spectacularly, skidding along on their fronts for six feet before coming to a halt. 

Someone behind them was laughing. Blair rolled over onto her back and saw Umbridge concealed in a niche beneath an ugly dragon-shaped vase. "It's them!" she said jubilantly at the sight of Blair and Harry on the floor. "Excellent, oh, very good...Stand up, Potter, Wood!"

Blair and Harry got to their feet, glaring at Umbridge. Umbridge never looked so happy. She seized their arms in a vicelike grip. Draco came running in and he concealed his surprise at the sight of them. "Professor, we didn't see anyone else."

Umbridge beamed broadly at him. "Tell the others to look in the library — anybody out of breath — check the bathrooms, Miss Parkinson can do the girls' ones — off you go — and you," she added in her softest, most dangerous voice, as Malfoy walked away while mouthing an apology to them. "You can come with me to the headmaster's office, Potter, Wood."

They were at the stone gargoyle within minutes. Blair and Harry held each other's hands. Blair wondered how many of the others had been caught. She thought of Ron, the twins and Ginny — Mrs. Weasley would kill him — and of how Hermione would feel if she was expelled before she could take her O.W.L.s. or how she would react if Blair got another detention. And it had been Seamus's very first meeting... and Neville had been getting so good... And Dean was just casting his patronus... Cedric and Harry were just having their moment... But what made Blair's face fall was the thought of Hermione and all of her friends having the same scars on her hand. She couldn't let that happen, no matter what.

"Fizzing Whizbee," sang Umbridge, and the stone gargoyle jumped aside, the wall behind split open, and they ascended the moving stone staircase. They reached the polished door with the griffin knocker, but Umbridge did not bother to knock, she strode straight inside, still holding tight to Blair and Harry.

The office was full of people. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face extremely tense. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was rocking backward and forward on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation. Kingsley, who sent a sad smile to Blair, and a tough-looking wizard Blair did not recognize with very short, wiry hair were positioned on either side of the door like guards, and the freckled, bespectacled form of Percy Weasley hovered excitedly beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes.

The portraits of old headmasters and mistresses were not shamming sleep tonight. All of them were watching what was happening below, alert and serious. As Blair and Harry entered, a few flitted into neighboring frames and whispered urgently into their neighbors' ears.

Blair and Harry pulled themselves free of Umbridge's grasp as the door swung shut behind them. Cornelius Fudge was glaring at them with a kind of vicious satisfaction upon his face. "Well," he said. "Well, well, well..."

Blair replied with the dirtiest look she could muster. Her heart drummed madly inside her, but her brain was oddly cool and clear. "They were heading back to Gryffindor Tower," said Umbridge. There was an indecent excitement in her voice. "I cornered them."

"That's wonderful, Dolores," said Fudge appreciatively. "You will be rewarded. Well, Potter, Wood... I expect you know why you are here?"

Blair fully intended to respond with a defiant "yes": Her mouth had opened and the word was half formed when he caught sight of Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore was not looking directly at Blair or Harry; his eyes were fixed upon a point just over Blair's shoulder, but as Blair stared at him, he shook his head a fraction of an inch to each side.

Blair changed direction mid-word. "Yeh — no."

"I beg your pardon?" said Fudge.

"No," said Harry, firmly.

"You two don't know why you are here?"

"No, we don't," said Harry. Fudge looked incredulously from Harry to Blair to to Professor Umbridge; Blair took advantage of his momentary inattention to steal another quick look at Dumbledore, who gave the carpet the tiniest of nods and the shadow of a wink.

"So you have no idea," said Fudge in a voice positively sagging with sarcasm, "why Professor Umbridge has brought you to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?"

"School rules?" said Blair. "No."

"Or Ministry decrees?" amended Fudge angrily.

"Not that we're aware of," said Harry blandly.

Blair's heart was still hammering very fast. It was almost worth telling these lies to watch Fudge's blood pressure rising, but she could not see how on earth they would get away with them. If somebody had tipped off Umbridge about the D.A. then they, the leaders, might as well be packing their trunks right now.

"So it's news to you, is it," said Fudge, his voice now thick with anger, "that an illegal student organization has been discovered within this school?"

"Harry, do you know about that?" said Blair in a fake surprised tone.

"I don't, Blair, it is news to us, Minister," said Harry, hoisting an unconvincing look of innocent surprise onto his face.

"I think, Minister," said Umbridge silkily from beside him, "we might make better progress if I fetch our informant."

"Yes, yes, do," said Fudge, nodding, and he glanced maliciously at Dumbledore as Umbridge left the room. "There's nothing like a good witness, is there, Dumbledore?"

"Nothing at all, Cornelius," said Dumbledore gravely, inclining his head. There was a wait of several minutes, in which nobody looked at each other, then Blair heard the door open behind her. Umbridge moved past them into the room, gripping by the shoulder Cho's curly-haired friend Marietta, who was hiding her face in her hands.

"Don't be scared, dear, don't be frightened," said Professor Umbridge softly, patting her on the back, "it's quite all right, now. You have done the right thing. The minister is very pleased with you. He'll be telling your mother what a good girl you've been. Marietta's mother, Minister," she added, looking up at Fudge, "is Madam Edgecombe from the Department of Magical Transportation. Floo Network office — she's been helping us police the Hogwarts fires, you know."

"Jolly good, jolly good!" said Fudge heartily. "Like mother, like daughter, eh? Well, come on, now, dear, look up, don't be shy, let's hear what you've got to — galloping gargoyles!"

As Marietta raised her head, Blair grinned because Hermione made a masterpiece out of Marietta Edgecombe. Fudge leapt backward in shock, nearly landing himself in the fire. He cursed and stamped on the hem of his cloak, which had started to smoke, and Marietta gave a wail and pulled the neck of her robes right up to her eyes, but not before the whole room had seen that her face was horribly disfigured by a series of close-set purple pustules that had spread across her nose and cheeks to form the word "SNEAK."

"Never mind the spots now, dear," said Umbridge impatiently, "just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the Minister —" But Marietta gave another muffled wail and shook her head frantically.

"Oh, very well, you silly girl, I'll tell him," snapped Umbridge. She hitched her sickly smile back onto her face and said, "Well, Minister, Miss Edgecombe here came to my office shortly after dinner this evening and told me she had something she wanted to tell me. She said that if I proceeded to a secret room on the seventh floor, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement, I would find out something to my advantage. I questioned her a little further and she admitted that there was to be some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately at that point this hex," she waved impatiently at Marietta's concealed face, "came into operation and upon catching sight of her face in my mirror the girl became too distressed to tell me any more."

"Well, now," said Fudge, fixing Marietta with what he evidently imagined was a kind and fatherly look. "It is very brave of you, my dear, coming to tell Professor Umbridge, you did exactly the right thing. Now, will you tell me what happened at this meeting? What was its purpose? Who was there?" But Marietta would not speak. She merely shook her head again, her eyes wide and fearful.

"Haven't we got a counterjinx for this?" Fudge asked Umbridge impatiently, gesturing at Marietta's face. "So she can speak freely?"

"I have not yet managed to find one," Umbridge admitted grudgingly, and Blair felt a surge of pride in her girlfriend's jinxing ability. "But it doesn't matter if she won't speak, I can take up the story from here.

"You will remember, Minister, that I sent you a report back in October that Potter and Wood had met a number of fellow students in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade —"

"And what is your evidence for that?" cut in Professor McGonagall.

"I have testimony from Willy Widdershins, Minerva, who happened to be in the bar at the time. He was heavily bandaged, it is true, but his hearing was quite unimpaired," said Umbridge smugly. "He heard every word Potter and Wood said and hastened straight to the school to report to me —"

"Oh, so that's why he wasn't prosecuted for setting up all those regurgitating toilets!" said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "What an interesting insight into our justice system!"

"Blatant corruption!" roared the portrait of the corpulent, rednosed wizard on the wall behind Dumbledore's desk. "The Ministry did not cut deals with petty criminals in my day, no sir, they did not!"

"Thank you, Fortescue, that will do," said Dumbledore softly.

"The purpose of Potter and Wood's meeting with these students," continued Professor Umbridge, "was to persuade them to join an illegal society, whose aim was to learn spells and curses the Ministry has decided are inappropriate for school-age —" 

"I think you'll find you're wrong there, Dolores," said Dumbledore quietly, peering at her over the half-moon spectacles perched halfway down his crooked nose. Blair stared at him. She could not see how Dumbledore was going to talk them out of this one; if Willy Widdershins had indeed heard every word they said in the Hog's Head there was simply no escaping it.

"Oho!" said Fudge, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet again. "Yes, do let's hear the latest cock-and-bull story designed to pull Potter and Wood out of trouble! Go on, then, Dumbledore, go on — Willy Widdershins was lying, was he? Or was it Potter and Wood's identical twins in the Hog's Head that day? Or is there the usual simple explanation involving a reversal of time, a dead man coming back to life, and a couple of invisible dementors?"

Percy let out a hearty laugh. "Oh, very good, Minister, very good!"

Blair could have kicked him. Then she saw, to her astonishment, that Dumbledore was smiling gently too. "Cornelius, I do not deny — and nor, I am sure, do Blair and Harry — that they were in the Hog's Head that day, nor that they were trying to recruit students to a Defense Against the Dark Arts group. I am merely pointing out that Dolores is quite wrong to suggest that such a group was, at that time, illegal. If you remember, the Ministry decree banning all student societies was not put into effect until two days after Blair and Harry's Hogsmeade meeting, so they were not breaking any rules in the Hog's Head at all."

Percy looked as though he had been struck in the face by something very heavy. Fudge remained motionless in mid-bounce, his mouth hanging open. Umbridge recovered first. "That's all very fine, Headmaster," she said, smiling sweetly. "But we are now nearly six months on from the introduction of Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. If the first meeting was not illegal, all those that have happened since most certainly are."

"Well," said Dumbledore, surveying her with polite interest over the top of his interlocked fingers, "they certainly would be, if they had continued after the decree came into effect. Do you have any evidence that these meetings continued?"

As Dumbledore spoke, Blair heard a rustle behind her and rather thought Kingsley whispered something. She could have sworn too that she felt something brush against her side, a gentle something like a draft or bird wings, but looking down she saw nothing there.

"Evidence?" repeated Umbridge with that horrible wide toadlike smile. "Have you not been listening, Dumbledore? Why do you think Miss Edgecombe is here?"

"Oh, can she tell us about six months' worth of meetings?" said Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows. "I was under the impression that she was merely reporting a meeting tonight."

"Miss Edgecombe," said Umbridge at once, "tell us how long these meetings have been going on, dear. You can simply nod or shake your head, I'm sure that won't make the spots worse. Have they been happening regularly over the last six months?"

Blair and Harry glanced at each other subtly. Blair felt a horrible plummeting in her stomach. This was it, they had hit a dead end of solid evidence that not even Dumbledore would be able to shift aside...

"Just nod or shake your head, dear," Umbridge said coaxingly to Marietta. "Come on, now, that won't activate the jinx further..." Everyone in the room was gazing at the top of Marietta's face. Only her eyes were visible between the pulled up robes and her curly fringe. Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight, but her eyes looked oddly blank. And then — to Blair's utter amazement — Marietta shook her head.

Umbridge looked quickly at Fudge and then back at Marietta. "I don't think you understood the question, did you, dear? I'm asking whether you've been going to these meetings for the past six months? You have, haven't you?" Again, Marietta shook her head.

"What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?" said Umbridge in a testy voice.

"I would have thought her meaning was quite clear," said Professor McGonagall harshly. "There have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is that correct, Miss Edgecombe?" Marietta nodded.

"But there was a meeting tonight!" said Umbridge furiously. "There was a meeting, Miss Edgecombe, you told me about it, in the Room of Requirement! And Potter and Wood were the leaders, were they not, Potter and Wood organized it, Potter and Wood — why are you shaking your head, girl?"

"Well, usually when a person shakes their head," said McGonagall coldly, "they mean 'no.' So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign language as yet unknown to humans —" 

Professor Umbridge seized Marietta, pulled her around to face her, and began shaking her very hard. A split second later Dumbledore was on his feet, his wand raised. Kingsley started forward and Umbridge leapt back from Marietta, waving her hands in the air as though they had been burned.

"I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores," said Dumbledore, and for the first time, he looked angry.

"You want to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge," said Kingsley in his deep, slow voice. "You don't want to get yourself into trouble now."

"No," said Umbridge breathlessly, glancing up at the towering figure of Kingsley. "I mean, yes — you're right, Shacklebolt — I — I forgot myself."

Marietta was standing exactly where Umbridge had released her. She seemed neither perturbed by Umbridge's sudden attack, nor relieved by her release. She was still clutching her robe up to her oddly blank eyes, staring straight ahead of her. A sudden suspicion connected to Kingsley's whisper and the thing she had felt shoot past her sprang into Blair's mind.

"Dolores," said Fudge, with the air of trying to settle something once and for all, "the meeting tonight — the one we know definitely happened —"

"Yes," said Umbridge, pulling herself together, "yes... well, Miss Edgecombe tipped me off and I proceeded at once to the seventh floor, accompanied by certain trustworthy students, so as to catch those in the meeting red-handed. It appears that they were forewarned of my arrival, however, because when we reached the seventh floor they were running in every direction. It does not matter, however. I have all their names here, Miss Parkinson ran into the Room of Requirement for me to see if they had left anything behind... We needed evidence and the room provided..."

And to Blair's horror, she withdrew from her pocket the list of names that had been pinned upon the Room of Requirement's wall and handed it to Fudge. "The moment I saw Potter and Wood's names on the list, I knew what we were dealing with," she said softly.

"Excellent," said Fudge, a smile spreading across his face. "Excellent, Dolores. And... by thunder..." He looked up at Dumbledore, who was still standing beside Marietta, his wand held loosely in his hand. "See what they've named themselves?" said Fudge quietly. "Dumbledore's Army."

Dumbledore reached out and took the piece of parchment from Fudge. He gazed at the heading scribbled by Hermione months before and for a moment seemed unable to speak. Then he looked up, smiling. "Well, the game is up," he said simply. "Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius — or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?"

Blair saw McGonagall and Kingsley look at each other. There was fear in both faces. She did not understand what was going on, and neither, apparently, did Fudge. "Statement?" said Fudge slowly. "What — I don't — ?"

"Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, still smiling as he waved the list of names before Fudge's face. "Not Potter's Army. Not Wood's Army. Dumbledore's Army."

"But — but —" Understanding blazed suddenly in Fudge's face. He took a horrified step backward, yelped, and jumped out of the fire again. "You?" he whispered, stamping again on his smoldering cloak.

"That's right," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

"You organized this?"

"I did," said Dumbledore.

"You recruited these students for — for your army?"

"Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting," said Dumbledore, nodding. "Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe, of course." 

Marietta nodded. Fudge looked from her to Dumbledore, his chest swelling. "Then you have been plotting against me!" he yelled.

"That's right," said Dumbledore cheerfully.

"NO!" shouted Blair and Harry. Kingsley flashed a look of warning at them, McGonagall widened her eyes threateningly, but it had suddenly dawned upon Blair and Harry what Dumbledore was about to do, and they could not let it happen.

"No — Professor Dumbledore!"

"Be quiet, Blair, or I am afraid you will have to leave my office," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Yes, shut up, Wood!" barked Fudge, who was still ogling Dumbledore with a kind of horrified delight. "Well, well, well — I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter and Wood and instead —"

"Instead you get to arrest me," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It's like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn't it?"

"Weasley!" cried Fudge, now positively quivering with delight, "Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he's said, his confession, have you got it?"

"Yes, sir, I think so, sir!" said Percy eagerly, whose nose was splattered with ink from the speed of his note-taking.

"The bit about how he's been trying to build up an army against the Ministry, how he's been working to destabilize me?"

"Yes, sir, I've got it, yes!" said Percy, scanning his notes joyfully.

"Very well, then," said Fudge, now radiant with glee. "Duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the Daily Prophet at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!"

Percy dashed from the room, slamming the door behind him, and Fudge turned back to Dumbledore. "You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and then sent to Azkaban to await trial!"

"Ah," said Dumbledore gently, "yes. Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag."

"Snag?" said Fudge, his voice still vibrating with joy. "I see no snag, Dumbledore!"

"Well," said Dumbledore apologetically, "I'm afraid I do."

"Oh really?"

"Well — it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to — what is the phrase? 'Come quietly' I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course — but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing."

Umbridge's face was growing steadily redder, she looked as though she was being filled with boiling water. Fudge stared at Dumbledore with a very silly expression on his face, as though he had just been stunned by a sudden blow and could not quite believe it had happened. He made a small choking noise and then looked around at Kingsley and the man with short gray hair, who alone of everyone in the room had remained entirely silent so far. The latter gave Fudge a reassuring nod and moved forward a little, away from the wall. Blair saw his hand drift, almost casually, toward his pocket.

"Don't be silly, Dawlish," said Dumbledore kindly. "I'm sure you are an excellent Auror, I seem to remember that you achieved 'Outstanding' in all your N.E.W.T.s, but if you attempt to — er — 'bring me in' by force, I will have to hurt you."

The man called Dawlish blinked, looking rather foolish. He looked toward Fudge again, but this time seemed to be hoping for a clue as to what to do next. "So," sneered Fudge, recovering himself, "you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?"

"Merlin's beard, no," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to."

"He will not be single-handed!" said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes. Blair did so as well.

"Oh yes he will, Minerva! Blair, do not move," said Dumbledore sharply. "Hogwarts needs you!"

"Enough of this rubbish!" said Fudge, pulling out his own wand. "Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!" 

A streak of silver light flashed around the room. There was a bang like a gunshot, and the floor trembled. Blair grabbed the scruff of Harry's neck and forced him down on the floor as a second silver flash went off — several of the portraits yelled, Fawkes screeched, and a cloud of dust filled the air.

Coughing in the dust, Blair saw a dark figure fall to the ground with a crash in front of her. There was a shriek and a thud and somebody cried, "No!" Then the sound of breaking glass, frantically scuffling footsteps, a groan — and silence.

Blair looked around and saw Professor McGonagall crouched beside her, holding Marietta out of harm's way. Dust was still floating gently down through the air onto them. Panting slightly, Blair saw a very tall figure moving toward them.

"Are you all right?" said Dumbledore.

"Yes!" said Professor McGonagall, getting up and dragging Marietta with her. Blair and Harry got to their feet.

The dust was clearing. The wreckage of the office loomed into view: Dumbledore's desk had been overturned, all of the spindly tables had been knocked to the floor, their silver instruments in pieces. Fudge, Umbridge, Kingsley, and Dawlish lay motionless on the floor. Fawkes the phoenix soared in wide circles above them, singing softly.

"Unfortunately, I had to hex Kingsley too, or it would have looked very suspicious," said Dumbledore in a low voice. "He was remarkably quick on the uptake, modifying Miss Edgecombe's memory like that while everyone was looking the other way — thank him for me, won't you, Minerva?

"Now, they will all awake very soon and it will be best if they do not know that we had time to communicate — you must act as though no time has passed, as though they were merely knocked to the ground, they will not remember —"

"Where will you go, Dumbledore?" whispered Professor McGonagall. "Grimmauld Place?"

"Oh no," said Dumbledore with a grim smile. "I am not leaving to go into hiding. Fudge will soon wish he'd never dislodged me from Hogwarts, I promise you..."

"Professor Dumbledore..." Blair began.

"We..." Harry continued. Blair did not know what to say first: how sorry she was that they had started the D.A. in the first place and caused all this trouble, or how terrible she felt that Dumbledore was leaving to save them from expulsion? But Dumbledore cut them off before they could say another word.

"Listen to me, Blair, Harry," he said urgently, "you must study Occlumency as hard as you can, do you two understand me? Do everything Professor Snape tells you and practice it particularly every night before sleeping so that you can close your mind to bad dreams — you will understand why soon enough, but you must promise me —"

The man called Dawlish was stirring. Dumbledore seized Blair's wrist this time. But as Dumbledore's fingers closed over Blair's skin, a pain shot through the scar on her chest, and she felt again that terrible, snakelike longing to strike Dumbledore, to bite him, to hurt him —

"And Blair, remember... do not expose your powers. Hold them in as much as you can. You have to focus on Occlumency, and do not anger Dolores Umbridge any further. Close your mind and control your emotions — you will understand," whispered Dumbledore. Fawkes circled the office and swooped low over him. Dumbledore released Blair, raised his hand, and grasped the phoenix's long golden tail. There was a flash of fire and the pair of them had gone.

"Where is he?" yelled Fudge, pushing himself up from the ground. "Where is he?"

"I don't know!" shouted Kingsley, also leaping to his feet.

"Well, he can't have Disapparated!" cried Umbridge. "You can't inside this school —"

"The stairs!" cried Dawlish, and he flung himself upon the door, wrenched it open, and disappeared, followed closely by Kingsley and Umbridge. Fudge hesitated, then got to his feet slowly, brushing dust from his front. There was a long and painful silence.

"Well, Minerva," said Fudge nastily, straightening his torn shirtsleeve, "I'm afraid this is the end of your friend Dumbledore."

"You think so, do you?" said Professor McGonagall scornfully.

Fudge seemed not to hear her. He was looking around at the wrecked office. A few of the portraits hissed at him; one or two even made rude hand gestures. "You'd better get those three off to bed," said Fudge, looking back at Professor McGonagall with a dismissive nod toward Blair, Harry and Marietta.

Professor McGonagall said nothing, but marched the three students to the door. As it swung closed behind them, Blair heard Phineas Nigellus's voice. "You know, Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts... but you cannot deny he's got style..."

While they were on their way out, Blair whispered to Harry. "It happened again." Harry nodded and the two of them shared uneasy glances. Things were just going to get worse now with Dumbledore gone.

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