A/N: quite a long chapter!!

While Harry was in detention that Friday, Hermione and Ben had gone to support Ron during his trials. Alycia and Rose had joined them, too, despite neither of them being a Gryffindor, and although usually people from other houses weren't allowed to watch.

But nobody said a word against their presence.

"We're learning the levitating spell at Charms, Ben," Alycia told him.

"Really? Already?" he exclaimed. She nodded eagerly. "Wow, it took us much longer to start practicing it."

"Professor Flitwick told us he's going to... Sort of speed up the process of showing us spells," explained Rose.

"Well that's really good," commented Hermione, as she knitted a small blue hat. "Given that Professor Umbridge refuses to allow us to practice magic."

"I don't like that woman at all," said Alycia. "She treats us like we're five... And she looks like a toad."

Rose exploded into a set of giggles. "She does! It's like seeing a toad wearing Barbie clothes."

Alycia and Ben frowned. "What's a Barbie?"

"What? You don't know Barbie?" she asked. Both siblings shook their heads. "It's a muggle doll. She usually wears a lot of pink."

"I have a lot of Barbies at home," Hermione smiled dreamily. "It has really been a long time since I last played with them..."

Applause and shouts of joy brought the group's attention back to the Quidditch pitch. Ron was running towards them, grinning from ear to ear. They got up quickly, and came down from the stands as fast as possible, expectant to see what had happened.

"I DID IT!" he beamed. "I'm in!"

"Well done, Ron!" exclaimed Ben.

"Congratulations!" said Alycia, smiling brightly.

"Yes, congratulations!"

Hermione suddenly pulled Ron into a hug. He took a couple of seconds to react; his face went momentarily pale, until his ears turned bright red, and he hesitated for an instant before returning the gesture. Hermione whispered something to him. Something obviously sweet, since a nervous smile appeared on his face.

Alycia and Rose were smirking and giggling to themselves, and Ben resisted the urge to join them.

When Hermione pulled away, her face was, too, quite pink, but she did her best to cover it.

———————————————

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"

"High Inquisitor?" Harry repeated out loud, confused.

"What does that even mean?"

Hermione cleared her throat, and began reading for the four of them to hear:

"In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

'The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,' said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. 'He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.'

"This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.

" 'That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,' said Weasley last night. 'Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she's been an immediate success-'"

"She's been a WHAT?" exclaimed Harry.

"Wait, there's more..." she said. "-An immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-theground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts.'

"It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor.'

'This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the "falling standards" at Hogwarts,' said Weasley. 'The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.'

"The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.

"'I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,' said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. 'Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.'

"Among those 'eccentric decisions' are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

"Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts.

" 'I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence,' said a Ministry insider last night.

"Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts.

" 'Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office,' said Madam Marchbanks. 'This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.' (For a full account of Madam Marchbanks' alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17)."

"So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this 'Educational Decree' and forced her on us! And now he's given her the power to inspect other teachers!" complained Hermione, breathing very quickly. "I can't believe this. It's outrageous..."

"I know it is," mumbled Harry, looking down at his hand.

Professor Umbridge's first appearance as Hogwarts' High Inquisitor occurred the next afternoon. However, Ben and Hermione didn't have the chance to be there, since it happened during Harry and Ron's Divination class. According to them, it had been... Well...

Umbridge had tried to make Trelawney predict something for her, and the woman had proceeded to tell her that she sensed she was in severe danger.

She was humming and smiling to herself when they entered the room for their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "Wands away," she instructed them all joyfully. "As we finished chapter one last lesson, I would like you all to turn to page nineteen today and commence chapter two, 'Common Defensive Theories and Their Derivation.' There will be no need to talk."

The class gave an audible sigh as it turned, as one, to page nineteen. Ben wondered if she was ever going to actually verbally explain during her lessons, or if she was going to continue making them read the entire book on their own, when he noticed Hermione had raised her hand.

"What is it this time, Miss Granger?"

"I've already read chapter two."

"Well then, proceed to chapter three."

"I've read that too. I've read the whole book."

Professor Umbridge blinked, surprised for an instant. "Well, then, you should be able to tell me what Slinkhard says about counterjinxes in chapter fifteen."

"He says that counterjinxes are improperly named," she replied promptly. "He says 'counterjinx' is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make them sound more acceptable... But I disagree."

"You disagree?"

"Yes, I do," she clarified. "Mr. Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, does he? But I think they can be very useful when they're used defensively."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Professor Umbridge straightened up. "Well, I'm afraid it is Mr. Slinkhard's opinion, and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger."

"But-"

"That is enough," Umbridge stopped her. She walked back to the front of the class and stood before them, all the jauntiness she had shown at the beginning of the lesson gone. "Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor House."

"What for?" asked Harry angrily.

"Don't you get involved!" Hermione whispered at him.

"For disrupting my class with pointless interruptions," said Professor Umbridge smoothly. "I am here to teach you using a Ministryapproved method that does not include inviting students to give their opinions on matters about which they understand very little. Your previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more license, but as none of them... With the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects, would have passed a Ministry inspection-"

"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher," said Harry loudly. "There was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head."

There was a long, endless silence.

"I think another week's detentions would do you some good, Mr. Potter," said Umbridge, walking back to her desk.

Harry didn't even react.

Ben, on the other hand, was fuming. He was about to speak up, not minding if he got detention, too, when Harry grabbed his arm firmly to stop him. "No, Ben."

"I can't let her-" he began, whispering.

Harry shook his head. "You'll get into trouble, and it won't be of any use."

He was right. Despite how much he would've wanted to yell at Umbridge, even if it was only to make her life slightly more difficult for a couple of seconds, he knew it wouldn't take away the fact that Harry would still be in detention. So he forced himself to stay quiet.

———————————————

On the last day of Harry's detention, it wasn't only Ben who waited for him to return. Ron and Hermione did as well, and the girl had prepared a small bowl of a yellow liquid that would help with the wound on his hand.

Which was bleeding so much it was painful to look at.

"Here," she said anxiously, pushing the bowl toward him, "soak your hand in that, it's a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, it should help."

"Thanks," he said, doing as she said as soon as he had sat down. Crookshanks curled around his legs, purring loudly, and then leapt into his lap and settled down. He began scratching behind the cat's ears with his left hand. "Where are Boots and Snowie?"

"Upstairs, sleeping."

"I still reckon you should complain about this," said Ron in a low voice, signalling to Harry's hand.

"No," he replied flatly.

"McGonagall would go nuts if she knew-"

Harry nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she probably would. And how long d'you reckon it'd take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?"

Ron opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out and after a moment he closed it again in a defeated sort of way.

"We should do something else about her, then," said Ben, shifting in his seat.

"Like what?"

"What about poison?" suggested Ron grimly. Harry and Ben let out a bitter chuckle.

"Something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and how we're not going to learn any defense from her at all," corrected Hermione.

"Well, what can we do about that?" yawned Ron. " 'S too late, isn't it? She got the job, she's here to stay, Fudge'll make sure of that."

"Well," said Hermione tentatively. "You know, I was thinking today..." She shot a slightly nervous look at Harry and then plunged on, "I was thinking that, maybe the time's come when we should just... Do it ourselves."

"Do what ourselves?" Harry eyed her suspiciously.

"Learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves."

"Come off it," groaned Ron. "You want us to do extra work? D'you realize Harry and I are behind on homework again and it's only the second week?"

"But this is much more important than homework!"

The three of them goggled at her.

"I didn't think there was anything in the universe more important than homework."

"Don't be silly, of course there is!" giggled Hermione. "It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge's first lesson, for what's waiting 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 can go and look jinxes up in the library and try and practice them, I suppose."

"No, I agree, we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," said Hermione. "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong."

"If you're talking about Lupin..." Harry began.

"No, no, I'm not talking about Lupin," she shook her head. "He's too busy with the Order and anyway, the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and that's not nearly often enough."

"So an older student, then?" suggested Ben. "Or what about McGonagall?"

"No."

"Who, then?" Harry frowned at her.

Hermione heaved a very deep sigh. "Isn't it obvious? I'm talking about you, Harry."

There was a moment of silence.

"About me what?"

"I'm talking about you teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry stared at her blankly, then turned to Ron, perhaps in hopes for some support on how 'riddiculous' the idea was, but the redhead seemed to be considering it. "That's an idea."

"What's an idea?"

"You," repeated Ron. "Teaching us to do it."

Harry turned to Ben, a panicked expression on his face. "You don't think-"

"I actually think it's a really good idea," he nodded.

Harry blinked. "But I'm not a teacher, I can't-"

"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts," retorted Hermione.

"Me?" he repeated, eyes wide open. "No I'm not, you've beaten me in every test..."

"Actually, I haven't," she noted. "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. Look what you've done!"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what, I'm not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me," Ron said to Hermione and Ben, smirking slightly as he turned to Harry, pulling a face that resembled Goyle's when he concentrated. "Let's think. Uh... First year; you saved the Stone from You-Know-Who."

"But that was luck... That wasn't skill-"

"Second year," Ron interrupted, "you killed the basilisk and destroyed Riddle."

"Yeah, but if Fawkes hadn't turned up I-"

"Third year," said Ron, louder still, "you fought off about a hundred dementors at once-"

"You know that was a fluke, if the Time-Turner hadn't-"

"Last year," Ron said, almost shouting now, "you fought off You-Know-Who again..."

"Listen to me!" exclaimed Harry, looking slightly angry. "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."

Hermione and Ron were grinning, and Ben had a feeling it was going to lead to an argument.

"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!"

The bowl of murtlap essence fell to the floor and smashed. Ben quickly pulled out his wand and shook it, whispering, "Reparo".

"You don't know what it's like! 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 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 second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die... They've never taught us that in their classes, what it's like to deal with things like that, and you sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Cedric was stupid, like he messed up... You just don't get it, 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," stuttered Ron, looking aghast. "We weren't having a go at Diggory, we didn't- You've got the wrong end of the..."

He looked helplessly at Ben. "Harry, you know that we would never think Cedric was stupi-"

"I know you wouldn't."

"Harry," said Hermione timidly. "Don't you see? This... This is exactly why we need you. We need to know what it's r-really like facing him... Facing V-Voldemort."

It was the first time she had ever said his name. Still breathing hard, Harry sank back into his chair.

"Your hand is bleeding a lot again," said Ben. Harry groaned as he realised he was right.

"Well... Think about it," asked Hermione quietly, getting to her feet. "Please?"

Harry nodded, seemingly lost in thought.

"I'm off to bed," she announced. "Erm... 'Night."

Ron got to his feet, too. "Coming?" he asked awkwardly to Harry.

"Yeah, in a minute," he said, staring at the now empty bowl of murtlap essence.

Ben took from the floor the blood-stained scarf Harry had used to stop the bleeding on his hand on his way from Umbridge's office, as Ron and Hermione walked upstairs in silence. Harry was watching him attentively as he pointed his wand towards it. "Scourgify"

All the blood disappeared from it. Ben sat back beside him, and wrapped the scarf around his hand carefully, doing his best to avoid hurting him. "You better not land yourself in detention with that woman again, Harry, and I mean it."

He didn't reply. His eyes were fixed on his hand. His gaze was so empty, and he looked so exhausted it was nearly painful. "Are you mad at me, Ben?"

"Of course not," he replied, although he didn't know why he would, but he did know perfectly well that he wasn't mad at him in the slightest.

"Are you sure?"

Ben breathed in deeply, and took his other hand on his own. "Absolutely."

Harry smiled weakley. He brushed his fingertips against the back of Ben's hand, tickling his skin. Ben felt his heart do a flip.

"Let's... Let's go to bed, alright?" he whispered, stuttering. "It's late."

———————————————

The following two weeks passed faster than usual. Harry didn't get in trouble with Umbridge, and remained silent during her lessons. And neither Hermione, Ron or Ben ever mentioned the idea of Harry giving Defense Against the Dark Arts. At least, until a blustery evening at the end of September, when the four of them were sitting in the library, looking up potion ingredients for Snape.

"I was wondering," Hermione said suddenly, "whether you'd thought any more about Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry."

"'Course I have," grumbled Harry grumpily. "Can't forget it, can we, with that hag teaching us?"

"I meant the idea I had, about you teaching us."

Harry did not answer at once. He pretended to be deeply interested in a page of Asiatic Anti-Venoms. "Well," he began slowly, giving up on pretending to find them interesting. "Yeah, I- I've thought about it a bit."

"And?"

"I dunno."

"I thought it was a good idea from the start," commented Ron.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You did listen to what I said about a load of it being luck, didn't you?"

"That doesn't take away from the fact that you're undeniably very powerful and skilled," said Ben, twirling a pen between his fingers.

"Exactly," nodded Hermione. "There's no point pretending that you're not good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, because you are. You were the only person last year who could throw off the Imperius Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't, Viktor always said-"

Ron looked around at her so fast he appeared to crick his neck. Rubbing it, he said, "Yeah? What did Vicky say?"

Ben sniggered, and Hermione rolled her eyes boredly. "He said Harry knew how to do stuff even he didn't, and he was in his final year at Durmstrang."

"You're not still in contact with him, are you?"

"So what if I am?" interrogated Hermione coolly, though her face was a little pink. "I can have a pen pal if I-"

"He didn't only want to be your pen pal."

"What if we leave these jealousy fights for later?" asked Ben, smirking.

"Let's not talk about jealousy fig-" began Ron.

Hermione cleared her throat, interrupting him. "Well, what do you think? Will you teach us, Harry?"

"Just you three, yeah?"

"Well, now, don't fly off the handle again, Harry, please... But I really think you ought to teach anyone who wants to learn. I mean, we're talking about defending ourselves against V-Voldemort. It doesn't seem fair if we don't offer the chance to other people."

Harry considered this for a moment, then said, "Yeah, but I doubt anyone except you two would want to be taught by me. I'm a nutter, remember?"

"Well, I think you might be surprised how many people would be interested in hearing what you've got to say," said Hermione seriously. "Look, you know the first weekend in October's a Hogsmeade weekend? How would it be if we tell anyone who's interested to meet us in the village and we can talk it over?"

So that's what they did.

The morning of the Hogsmeade visit was bright but windy. After breakfast, they lined up in front of Filch, who checked their names against the long list of students who had permission from their parents or guardians to visit the city.

"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked once they reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade. "The Three Broomsticks?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit... You know, dodgy, but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."

They walked down the main street past Zonko's Joke Shop, where they were unsurprised to see Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issued at regular intervals, and turned up a side street at the top of which stood a small inn. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture upon it of a wild boar's severed head leaking blood onto the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All three of them hesitated outside the door.

"Well, come on," spoke Hermione slightly nervously. Harry led the way inside.

It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables.

"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered after they had paid their butterbeers. He was looking at a heavily veiled witch who was sitting on a shadowny corner beside the fireplace. "Has it occurred to you that Umbridge might be under that?"

Hermione cast an appraising eye at the veiled figure. "Umbridge is shorter than that woman. And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out-of-bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing."

Harry, Ron, Ben, and Hermione retreated to the farthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around. "You know what?" Ron murmured, looking enthusiastic. "We could order anything we liked in here, I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try firewhisky-"

"You- are- a- prefect," snarled Hermione.

Ron's smile faded away from his face. "Oh, right..."

"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his butterbeer and taking a swig.

"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checking her watch and then looking anxiously toward the door. "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!"

The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people.

First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with Mei-Xing, her friend Delilah, Marina, and one of their usually giggling girl friends, then Luna Lovegood, who was looking so dreamy that she might have walked in by accident. The next ones were Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson, followed by Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, and a Hufflepuff girl they didn't know. Then three Ravenclaws Ben didn't know, either, and Leah, along with Thomas and, to his surprise, Theodore Nott. Rolf Scamander arrived on his own. The last ones were Lee, Ginny, Fred and George Weasley.

Harry turned to Hermione, a mix of an angry and terrified look on his face. "A couple of people? This is a couple of people to you?"

"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," smiled Hermione happily. "Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?"

The barman had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. He probably had never seen his pub so full.

"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly. "Could we have... twenty-nine butterbeers, please?"

The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in something very important, he started passing up dusty butterbeers from under the bar.

"Cheers," Fred sharted handing them out. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these..."

"What have you been telling people?" Harry asked Hermione in a low voice. "What are they expecting?"

"I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got to say," she said soothingly; but Harry continued to look at her so furiously that she added quickly, "You don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first."

In twos and threes the new arrivals settled around Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ben, some looking rather excited, others curious, Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. When everybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out. Every eye was upon Harry.

"Er," began Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. "Well, er... Hi."

The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.

"Well, erm... Well, you know why you're here. Erm, well, Harry here had the idea," Harry threw a sharp look at her. "I mean, 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, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us. Because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

She paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells-"

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" spoke Michael Corner.

"Of course I do," she repliedat once. "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because...Because..." She took a great breath and finished, "Because Lord Voldemort's back."

The reaction was immediate and predictable. The girl who had come with Mei-Xing, Marina and Delilah shrieked and slopped butterbeer down herself, Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch, Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry.

"Well... That's the plan," said Hermione. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to-"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" demanded the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice.

"Do you want Voldemort to go knocking on your door to let you know he's returned?" snapped Leah, all of a sudden.

"Dumbledore believes it," said Hermione, not giving him time to answer.

"Is that not enough for you?" asked Ben, lifting up his eyebrows.

The blond boy directed a disgusted look at him. "You mean, Dumbledore believes him," he said, and nodded at Harry.

"Who are you?" inquired Ron.

"Zacharias Smith," he replied. "And I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"And what makes you think that it's Harry's duty to explain it to you?" Marina frowned at him.

"Look," Hermione intervened swiftly, before Zacharias Smith could speak. "That's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about-"

"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry, and he turned to look straight at Zacharias. "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back? I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Zacharias said dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know-"

"What kind of person would want details about the death of a classmate?" Rolf interrupted him. "Of a housemate, who considered you a friend?"

Zacharias' mouth opened, but Harry spoke over him, his temper visibly rising. "If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you. I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

But none of them left their seats, not even Zacharias Smith, though he continued to gaze intently at Harry.

"So," said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. "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-"

"Is it true," asked a girl with a long plait down her back, staring at Harry. "That you can produce a Patronus?"

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.

"Yeah," replied Harry slightly defensively.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er... You don't know Madam Bones, do you?"

The girl smiled. "She's my auntie. I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So, is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes."

"That's so cool!" beamed Thomas.

"Blimey, Harry!" exclaimed Lee, looking very impressed. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," Fred grinned at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry and a couple of people laughed.

"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year..."

"Yeah... Er- Yes, I did that."

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled, the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks, and Lavender Brown said "wow" softly. Ben laughed under his breath at how panicked Harry was looking, earning a fake glare from him.

"And in our first year," said Neville to the group at large. "He saved that Philosopher's Stone from You-Know-Who."

Hannah Abbott's eyes were as round as Galleons.

"And that's not to mention," said Mei-Xing, looking at him, a smile on her face. Harry's eyes snapped onto her. "All the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year; getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things..."

Quite pink in the face, Harry spoke up, and everyone fell silent again. "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 dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner at once. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying..."

"Well..."

"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer," added Susan Bones.

"No," admitted Harry, "no, okay, 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?" asked Zacharias Smith.

"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, before Harry could speak, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

Perhaps the word 'weasel' had affected Ron particularly strongly; in any case, he was now looking at Zacharias as though he would like nothing better than to thump him.

Zacharias flushed. "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," snarled Fred Weasley.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" inquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this."

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, "moving on... The point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folded his arms and said nothing, though perhaps this was because he was too busy keeping an eye on the instrument in George's hand.

"Right," nodded Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. "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," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," agreed Mei-Xing, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours," added Zacharias Smith.

"Our captain is not here," said Theodore Nott. "But nor with ours, if possible."

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," concluded 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!" barked Ernie Macmillan, whom Harry had been expecting to speak long before this. "Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!"

He looked around impressively, as though waiting for people to cry, 'Surely not!'

When nobody spoke, he went on, "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon 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-"

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," explained Hermione, "is that she's got some... Some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

"I mean, that would surely be quite cool."

Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybody except Luna Lovegood, who piped up, "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" asked Harry in confusion.

"Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths," she stated.

"No, he hasn't," snapped Hermione.

"Yes, he has."

"What are heliopaths?" Neville wondered, blankly.

"They're spirits of fire," said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of-"

"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"Oh yes they do!"

"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?"

Luna was looking very angry. "There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you-"

"Hem, hem," said Ginny in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?"

"Yes," said Hermione at once, "yes, we were, you're right..."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.

"As long as-" began Angelina.

"Yes, yes, we know about Quidditch," interrupted Hermione, very tense. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet..."

This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.

"Library?" suggested Katie Bell after a few moments.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," said Harry.

"Maybe an unused classroom?" said Dean.

"Yeah," said Ron, "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard..."

"Oh, yes," agreed Ben. "She doesn't seem to like Umbridge very much, I don't think she'd have a problem with lending it to us..."

"I mean, maybe..." said Harry. "But, I don't know, this feels a bit more rebellious than simply practicing some spells for a tournament."

An idea flashed in Ben's mind. He turned to Marina, whose face allowed him to realise she had had the exact same idea. She was already looking at him, smiling but, right when she was about to speak, Hermione concluded; "Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere. We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."

She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something.

"I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she took a 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."

Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully put down his signature, but it was clear that several people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list.

"Er..." said Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchment that George was trying to pass him. "Well, I'm sure Ernie or Rolf will tell me when the meeting is."

"No, I won't," Rolf snapped.

So Zacharias looked at Ernie, who was looking rather hesitant about signing too. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

"I- Well, I'm a prefect," Ernie burst out.

"So am I," frowned Marina. "And so are Ron and Hermione. And Padma."

Ernie ignored her comment. "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," said Ernie, "yes, I do believe that, it's just..."

"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?" said Hermione testily.

"No. No, of course not," said Ernie, looking slightly less anxious. "I- Yes, of course I'll sign."

Nobody raised objections after Ernie. When the last person, Zacharias, had signed, Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.

"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. "George, Lee, and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later."

In twos and threes people started leaving, too.

"I'm sorry about Zacharias," said Marina exhaustedly, looking at Harry. "He's actually not usually like this. Well, he's a bit of a jerk, but not this much..."

Harry smiled weakly at her. "It's alright."

She then turned to Ben, beaming. "Well, it was really nice seeing you- All of you, I mean," she added, blushing slightly. "Er- Well, bye, see you soon!"

"Yeah, bye!"

Mei-Xing was making rather a business of fastening the catch on her bag before leaving, her long dark curtain of hair swinging forward to hide her face. But, as soon as Marina and Delilah approached them, their other friend stood beside her, arms folded, clicking her tongue, so that Mei-Xing had little choice but to leave with them. As her friend ushered her through the door, she looked back and waved at Harry.

Ben found himself frowning.

"I smell jealousy, Walker," Thomas whispered in Ben's ear. He turned to him, to find the boy smirking from ear to ear.

"Shut up, you do not."

Thomas' smirk grew further. "Mhm."

"Tommyyy," Leah sang out from the door next to Theodore Nott, fluttering her eyelashes in a joking manner. "You coming or not?"

"Go ahead, your boyfriend looks like he's missing you," grinned Ben.

Thomas' smirk disappeared. Instead, he went a bright shade of pink. "He's not my... You know."

"I can't believe you're lying to me," Ben shook his head slowly, pretending to be disappointed.

"I'll tell you everything some other day, okay?"

"Okie-dokie."

"Please don't ever say that again."

"Well, I think that went quite well," said Hermione happily, once everyone had left

"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," commented Ron as they walked out of the Hog's Head into the bright sunlight a few moments later.

"I don't like him much either," admitted Hermione, "but he overheard me talking to Ernie, Hannah and Marina at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say? But the more people the better really... I mean, Michael Corner and his friends wouldn't have come if he hadn't been going out with Ginny-"

Ron, who had been draining the last few drops from his butterbeer bottle, gagged and sprayed butterbeer down his front. "He's WHAT?" he asked, outraged. "She's going out with- My sister's going... What d'you mean, Michael Corner?"

Ben was also quite surprised at the news. He thought she, well... He didn't think she liked boys, to be honest. He was rather convinced that she fancied Luna Lovegood.

"Well, that's why he and his friends came, I think... Well, they're obviously interested in learning defense, but if Ginny hadn't told Michael what was going on-"

"When did this... When did she-?"

"They met at the Yule Ball and they got together at the end of last year," explained Hermione composedly. They had turned into the High Street and she paused outside Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where there was a display of pheasant-feather quills in the window. "Hmm... I could do with a new quill."

"Which one was Michael Corner?" Ron demanded furiously.

"The one with rather long, dark hair."

"I didn't like him," said Ron at once.

"Big surprise."

"But," said Ron, following Hermione along a row of quills in copper pots, "I thought Ginny fancied Harry!"

"Did she?" asked Ben.

"You didn't know?" Hermione's eyes widened.

"No, I don't think so- Oh, wait, I just remembered... Back in second year, she asked if I thought he was handsome-"

"Really?" asked Harry.

"Yeah."

"Ginny used to fancy Harry, but she gave up on him months ago. Not that she doesn't like you, of course," she added kindly to Harry while she examined a long black-and-gold quill.

"So that's why she talks now?" he asked Hermione. "She never used to talk in front of me."

"Exactly," nodded Hermione. "Yes, I think I'll have this one..." She went up to the counter and handed over fifteen Sickles and two Knuts, Ron still breathing down her neck.

"Ron," she said severely as she turned and trod on his feet, "this is exactly why Ginny hasn't told you she's seeing Michael, she knew you'd take it badly. So don't harp on about it, for heaven's sake."

"What d'you mean, who's taking anything badly? I'm not going to harp on about anything."

Ron continued to chunter under his breath all the way down the street. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry. "And talking about Michael and Ginny... What about Mei-Xing and you?"

"What d'you mean?" said Harry quickly, flushing.

Hermione's lips were curled into a grin. "Well, she just couldn't keep her eyes off you, could she?"

Ben felt himself choke on air for a second. "WHAT?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed," said Hermione, laughing under her breath.

But Ben didn't think there was anything to laugh about there. He obviously hadn't noticed, he wasn't looking at Mei-Xing. However, now he knew that Harry, instead, definitely had. Suddenly feeling a suffocating heat, he began to walk faster, getting closer to Ron, and leaving behind Hermione and Harry, who were whispering something under their breath.

A/N: i kinda want to write a percy jackson fic