Untitled Part 16
Hermione made no mention of Harry giving DefenseAgainst the Dark Arts lessons for two whole weeks after heroriginal suggestion. Harry's detentions with Umbridge werefinally over (he doubted whether the words now etched onthe back of his hand would ever fade entirely); Ron had hadfour more Quidditch practices and not been shouted atduring the last two; and all three of them had managed tovanish their mice in Transfiguration (Hermione had actuallyprogressed to vanishing kittens), before the subject wasbroached again, on a wild, blustery evening at the end ofSeptember, when the three of them were sitting in thelibrary, looking up potion ingredients for Snape.
"I was wondering," Hermione said suddenly, "whetheryou'd thought any more about Defense Against the DarkArts, Harry."
" 'Course I have," said Harry grumpily. "Can't forget it,can we, with that hag teaching us —"
"I meant the idea Ron and I had" — Ron cast her analarmed, threatening kind of look; she frowned at him —"oh, all right, the idea I had, then — about you teaching us."
Harry did not answer at once. He pretended to beperusing a page of Asiatic Anti-Venoms, because he did notwant to say what was in his mind.
The fact was that he had given the matter a great deal ofthought over the past fortnight. Sometimes it seemed aninsane idea, just as it had on the night Hermione hadproposed it, but at others, he had found himself thinkingabout the spells that had served him best in his variousencounters with Dark creatures and Death Eaters — foundhimself, in fact, subconsciously planning lessons. ...
"Well," he said slowly, when he could not pretend to findAsiatic anti-venoms interesting much longer, "yeah, I — I'vethought about it a bit."
"And?" said Hermione eagerly.
"I dunno," said Harry, playing for time. He looked up atRon.
"I thought it was a good idea from the start," said Ron,who seemed keener to join in this conversation now that hewas sure that Harry was not going to start shouting again.Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"You did listen to what I said about a load of it being luck,didn't you?"
"Yes, Harry," said Hermione gently, "but all the same,there's no point pretending that you're not good at DefenseAgainst the Dark Arts, because you are. You were the onlyperson last year who could throw off the Imperius Cursecompletely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sortsof stuff that full-grown wizards can't, Viktor always said —"
Ron looked around at her so fast he appeared to crick hisneck; rubbing it, he said, "Yeah? What did Vicky say?"
"Ho ho," said Hermione in a bored voice. "He said Harryknew how to do stuff even he didn't, and he was in the finalyear at Durmstrang."
Ron was looking at Hermione suspiciously.
"You're not still in contact with him, are you?"
"So what if I am?" said Hermione coolly, though her facewas a little pink. "I can have a pen pal if I —"
"He didn't only want to be your pen pal," said Ronaccusingly.
Hermione shook her head exasperatedly and, ignoringRon, who was continuing to watch her, said to Harry, "Well,what do you think? Will you teach us?"
"Just you and Ron, yeah?"
"Well," said Hermione, now looking a mite anxious again."Well ... now, don't fly off the handle again, Harry, please. ...But I really think you ought to teach anyone who wants tolearn. I mean, we're talking about defending ourselvesagainst V-Voldemort — oh, don't be pathetic, Ron — itdoesn't seem fair if we don't offer the chance to otherpeople."
Harry considered this for a moment, then said, "Yeah, butI doubt anyone except you two would want to be taught byme. I'm a nutter, remember?"
"Well, I think you might be surprised how many peoplewould be interested in hearing what you've got to say," saidHermione seriously. "Look," she leaned toward him; Ron,who was still watching her with a frown on his face, leanedforward to listen too, "you know the first weekend inOctober's a Hogsmeade weekend? How would it be if wetell anyone who's interested to meet us in the village andwe can talk it over?"
"Why do we have to do it outside school?" said Ron.
"Because," said Hermione, returning to the diagram ofthe Chinese Chomping Cabbage she was copying, "I don'tthink Umbridge would be very happy if she found out whatwe were up to."
Harry had been looking forward to the weekend trip intoHogsmeade, but there was one thing worrying him. Siriushad maintained a stony silence since he had appeared inthe fire at the beginning of September; Harry knew theyhad made him angry by saying that they did not want him tocome — but he still worried from time to time that Siriusmight throw caution to the winds and turn up anyway. Whatwere they going to do if the great black dog came boundingup the street toward them in Hogsmeade, perhaps underthe nose of Draco Malfoy?
"Well, you can't blame him for wanting to get out andabout," said Ron, when Harry discussed his fears with himand Hermione. "I mean, he's been on the run for over twoyears, hasn't he, and I know that can't have been a laugh,but at least he was free, wasn't he? And now he's just shutup all the time with that lunatic elf."Hermione scowled at Ron, but otherwise ignored theslight on Kreacher.
"The trouble is," she said to Harry, "until V-Voldemort —oh for heaven's sake, Ron — comes out into the open, Siriusis going to have to stay hidden, isn't he? I mean, the stupidMinistry isn't going to realize Sirius is innocent until theyaccept that Dumbledore's been telling the truth about himall along. And once the fools start catching real DeathEaters again it'll be obvious Sirius isn't one ... I mean, hehasn't got the Mark, for one thing."
I don't reckon he'd be stupid enough to turn up," saidRon bracingly. "Dumbledore'd go mad if he did and Siriuslistens to Dumbledore even if he doesn't like what hehears."
When Harry continued to look worried, Hermione said,"Listen, Ron and I have been sounding out people who wethought might want to learn some proper Defense Againstthe Dark Arts, and there are a couple who seem interested.We've told them to meet us in Hogsmeade.""Right," said Harry vaguely, his mind still on Sirius.
"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione said quietly. "You've gotenough on your plate without Sirius too."
She was quite right, of course; he was barely keeping upwith his homework, though he was doing much better nowthat he was no longer spending every evening in detentionwith Umbridge. Ron was even further behind with his workthan Harry, because while they both had Quidditchpractices twice a week, Ron also had prefect duties.However, Hermione, who was taking more subjects thaneither of them, had not only finished all her homework butwas also finding time to knit more elf clothes. Harry had toadmit that she was getting better; it was now almost alwayspossible to distinguish between the hats and the socks.
The morning of the Hogsmeade visit dawned bright butwindy. After breakfast they queued up in front of Filch, whomatched their names to the long list of students who hadpermission from their parents or guardian to visit thevillage. With a slight pang, Harry remembered that if ithadn't been for Sirius, he would not have been going at all.
When Harry reached Filch, the caretaker gave a greatsniff as though trying to detect a whiff of something fromHarry. Then he gave a curt nod that set his jowls aquiveragain and Harry walked on, out onto the stone steps andthe cold, sunlit day.
"Er — why was Filch sniffing you?" asked Ron, as he,Harry, and Hermione set off at a brisk pace down the widedrive to the gates.
"I suppose he was checking for the smell of Dungbombs,"said Harry with a small laugh. "I forgot to tell you ..."
And he recounted the story of sending his letter to Siriusand Filch bursting in seconds later, demanding to see theletter. To his slight surprise, Hermione found this storyhighly interesting, much more, indeed, than he did himself.
"He said he was tipped off you were orderingDungbombs? But who had tipped him off?"
"I dunno," said Harry, shrugging. "Maybe Malfoy, he'dthink it was a laugh."
They walked between the tall stone pillars topped withwinged boars and turned left onto the road into the village,the wind whipping their hair into their eyes.
"Malfoy?" said Hermione, very skeptically. "Well ... yes ...maybe ..."
And she remained deep in thought all the way into theoutskirts of Hogsmeade.
"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The ThreeBroomsticks?"
"Oh — no," said Hermione, coming out of her reverie, "no,it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others tomeet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know theone, 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 Idon't think we'll be overheard."
They walked down the main street past Zonko's JokeShop, where they were unsurprised to see Fred, George,and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issuedat regular intervals, and turned up a side street at the topof which stood a small inn. A battered wooden sign hungfrom a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture upon it ofa wild boar's severed head leaking blood onto the whitecloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as theyapproached. All three of them hesitated outside the door.
"Well, come on," said Hermione slightly nervously. Harryled the way inside.
It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose largebar gave an impression of gleaming warmth andcleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small,dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly ofsomething that might have been goats. The bay windowswere so encrusted with grime that very little daylight couldpermeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs ofcandles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed atfirst glance to be earthy, though as Harry stepped onto it herealized that there was stone beneath what seemed to bethe accumulated filth of centuries.
Harry remembered Hagrid mentioning this pub in his firstyear: "Yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head," he hadsaid, explaining how he had won a dragons egg from ahooded stranger there. At the time Harry had wonderedwhy Hagrid had not found it odd that the stranger kept hisface hidden throughout their encounter; now he saw thatkeeping your face hidden was something of a fashion in theHog's Head. There was a man at the bar whose whole headwas wrapped in dirty gray bandages, though he was stillmanaging to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fierysubstance through a slit over his mouth. Two figuresshrouded in hoods sat at a table in one of the windows;Harry might have thought them dementors if they had notbeen talking in strong Yorkshire accents; in a shadowycorner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, blackveil that fell to her toes. They could just see the tip of hernose because it caused the veil to protrude slightly.
"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, asthey crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at theheavily veiled witch. "Has it occurred to you Umbridgemight be under that?"
Hermione cast an appraising eye at the veiled figure.
"Umbridge is shorter than that woman," she said quietly."And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there'snothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've doubleand triple-checked the school rules. We're not out-ofbounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whetherstudents were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and hesaid yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our ownglasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of aboutstudy groups and homework groups and they're definitelyallowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade whatwe're doing."
"No," said Harry dryly, "especially as it's not exactly ahomework group you're planning, is it?"
The barman sidled toward them out of a back room. Hewas a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of longgray hair and beard. He was tall and thin and lookedvaguely familiar to Harry.
"What?" he grunted.
"Three butterbeers, please," said Hermione.
The man reached beneath the counter and pulled upthree very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed onthe bar.
"Six Sickles," he said.
"I'll get them," said Harry quickly, passing over the silver.The barman's eyes traveled over Harry, resting for afraction of a second on his scar. Then he turned away anddeposited Harry's money in an ancient wooden till whosedrawer slid open automatically to receive it. Harry, Ron, andHermione retreated to the farthest table from the bar andsat down, looking around, while the man in the dirty graybandages rapped the counter with his knuckles andreceived another smoking drink from the barman.
"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the barwith enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked inhere, I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn'tcare. I've always wanted to try firewhisky —"
"You — are — a — prefect," snarled Hermione.
"Oh," said Ron, the smile fading from his face. "Yeah ..."
"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harryasked, wrenching open the rusty top of his butterbeer andtaking a swig.
"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checkingher watch and then looking anxiously toward the door. "Itold them to be here about now and I'm sure they all knowwhere it is — oh look, this might be them now —"
The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dustysunlight split the room in two for a moment and thenvanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd ofpeople.
First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who wereclosely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with (Harry'sstomach did a back flip) Cho and one of her usually gigglinggirlfriends, then (on her own and looking so dreamy thatshe might have walked in by accident) Luna Lovegood; thenKatie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson, Colin andDennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley,Hannah Abbott, and a Hufflepuff girl with a long plait downher back whose name Harry did not know; three Ravenclawboys he was pretty sure were called Anthony Goldstein,Michael Corner, and Terry Boot; Ginny, followed by a tallskinny blond boy with an upturned nose whom Harryrecognized vaguely as being a member of the HufflepuffQuidditch team, and bringing up the rear, Fred and GeorgeWeasley with their friend Lee Jordan, all three of whomwere carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko'smerchandise.
"A couple of people?" said Harry hoarsely to Hermione. "Acouple of people?"
"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," said Hermionehappily. "Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?"
The barman had frozen in the act of wiping out a glasswith a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never beenwashed. Possibly he had never seen his pub so full.
"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting hiscompanions quickly. "Could we have ... twenty-fivebutterbeers, please?"
The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwingdown his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted insomething very important, he started passing up dustybutterbeers from under the bar.
"Cheers," said Fred, handing them out. "Cough up,everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these. ..."
Harry watched numbly as the large chattering group tooktheir beers from Fred and rummaged in their robes to findcoins. He could not imagine what all these people hadturned up for until the horrible thought occurred to himthat they might be expecting some kind of speech, at whichhe rounded on Hermione.
"What have you been telling people?" he said in a lowvoice. "What are they expecting?"
"I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got tosay," said Hermione soothingly; but Harry continued to lookat her so furiously that she added quickly, "You don't haveto do anything yet, I'll speak to them first."
"Hi, Harry," said Neville, beaming and taking a seatopposite Harry
Harry tried to smile back, but did not speak; his mouthwas exceptionally dry. Cho had just smiled at him and satdown on Ron's right. Her friend, who had curly reddishblonde hair, did not smile, but gave Harry a thoroughlymistrustful look that told Harry plainly that, given her way,she would not be here at all.
In twos and threes the new arrivals settled around Harry,Ron, and Hermione, some looking rather excited, otherscurious, Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. Wheneverybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out. Everyeye was upon Harry.
"Er," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usualout of nerves. "Well — er — hi."
The group focused its attention on her instead, thougheyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.
"Well ... erm ... well, you know why you're here. Erm ...well, Harry here had the idea — I mean" — Harry hadthrown her a sharp look — "I had the idea — that it mightbe good if people who wanted to study Defense Against theDark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not therubbish that Umbridge is doing with us" — (Hermione'svoice became suddenly much stronger and more confident)— "because nobody could call that Defense Against theDark Arts" — "Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein, andHermione looked heartened — "well, I thought it would begood if we, well, took matters into our own hands."
She paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, "Andby 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 ArtsO.W.L. too though, I bet?" said Michael Corner.
"Of course I do," said Hermione at once. "But I want morethan 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. Cho's friendshrieked and slopped butterbeer down herself, Terry Bootgave a kind of involuntary twitch, Padma Patil shuddered,and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into acough. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, atHarry.
"Well ... that's the plan anyway," said Hermione. "If youwant to join us, we need to decide how we're going to —"
"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said theblond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice.
"Well, Dumbledore believes it —" Hermione began.
"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," said the blond boy,nodding at Harry.
"Who are you?" said Ron rather rudely.
"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "and I think we've got theright to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who'sback."
"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's reallynot what this meeting was supposed to be about —"
"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry.
It had just dawned upon him why there were so manypeople there. He felt that Hermione should have seen thiscoming. Some of these people — maybe even most of them— had turned up in the hope of hearing Harry's storyfirsthand.
"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he asked,looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. ButDumbledore told the whole school what happened last year,and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'mnot wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."
The whole group seemed to have held its breath whileHarry spoke. Harry had the impression that even thebarman was listening in. He was wiping the same glass withthe filthy rag; it was becoming steadily dirtier.
Zacharias said dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us lastyear was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Whoand that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. Hedidn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggorygot murdered, I think we'd all like to know —"
"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like whenVoldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry said.His temper, always so close to the surface these days, wasrising again. He did not take his eyes from ZachariasSmith's aggressive face, determined not to look at Cho. "Idon't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So ifthat's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."
He cast an angry look in Hermione's direction. This was,he felt, all her fault; she had decided to display him likesome sort of freak and of course they had all turned up tosee just how wild his story was. ... But none of them lefttheir seats, not even Zacharias Smith, though he continuedto gaze intently at Harry.
"So," said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again."So ... like I was saying ... if you want to learn somedefense, 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," interrupted the girl with the long plait downher back, looking at Harry, "that you can produce aPatronus?"
There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.
"Yeah," said Harry slightly defensively.
"A corporeal Patronus?"
The phrase stirred something in Harry's memory.
"Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" he asked.
The girl smiled.
"She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She toldme about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make astag Patronus?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "Inever knew that!"
"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred,grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as itwas."
"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry and a couple ofpeople laughed. The veiled witch sitting alone shifted veryslightly in her seat.
"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword inDumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's whatone of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in therelast year. ..."
"Er — yeah, I did, yeah," said Harry.
Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled, the Creevey brothersexchanged awestruck looks, and Lavender Brown said"wow" softly. Harry was feeling slightly hot around thecollar now; he was determinedly looking anywhere but atCho.
"And in our first year," said Neville to the group at large,"he saved that Sorcerous Stone —"
"Sorcerer's," hissed Hermione.
"Yes, that, from You-Know-Who," finished Neville.
Hannah Abbott's eyes were as round as Galleons.
"And that's not to mention," said Cho (Harry's eyessnapped onto her, she was looking at him, smiling; hisstomach did another somersault), "all the tasks he had toget through in the Triwizard Tournament last year —getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas andthings. ..."
There was a murmur of impressed agreement around thetable.
Harry's insides were squirming. He was trying to arrangehis face so that he did not look too pleased with himself. Thefact that Cho had just praised him made it much, muchharder for him to say the thing he had sworn to himself hewould tell them.
"Look," he said and everyone fell silent at once, "I ... Idon't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest oranything, but ... I had a lot of help with all that stuff. ..."
"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner atonce. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying. ..."
"Yeah, well —" said Harry, feeling it would be churlish todisagree.
And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors thissummer," said Susan Bones.
"No," said Harry, "no, okay, I know I did bits of it withouthelp, but the point I'm trying to make is —"
"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of thisstuff?" said Zacharias Smith.
"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, before Harry couldspeak, "why don't you shut your mouth?"
Perhaps the word "weasel" had affected Ron particularlystrongly; in any case, he was now looking at Zacharias asthough he would like nothing better than to thump him.Zacharias flushed.
"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he'stelling us he can't really do any of it," he said.
"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 metalinstrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.
"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy wherewe stick this," said Fred.
"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, "moving on ... the pointis, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"
There was a murmur of general agreement. Zachariasfolded his arms and said nothing, though perhaps this wasbecause he was too busy keeping an eye on the instrumentin George's hand.
"Right," said Hermione, looking relieved that somethinghad at last been settled. "Well, then, the next question ishow often we do it. I really don't think there's any point inmeeting less than once a week —"
"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure thisdoesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."
"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."
"Nor ours," added Zacharias Smith.
"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," saidHermione, slightly impatiently, "but you know, this is ratherimportant, we're talking about learning to defend ourselvesagainst V-Voldemort's Death Eaters —"
"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan, whom Harry hadbeen expecting to speak long before this. "Personally I thinkthis is really important, possibly more important thananything else we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.scoming up!"
He looked around impressively, as though waiting forpeople to cry, "Surely not!" When nobody spoke, he wenton, "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry hasfoisted such a useless teacher upon us at this criticalperiod. Obviously they are in denial about the return of YouKnow-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to activelyprevent us from using defensive spells —"
"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trainedin Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, "is thatshe's got some ... some mad idea that Dumbledore coulduse the students in the school as a kind of private army. Shethinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."
Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybodyexcept Luna Lovegood, who piped up, "Well, that makessense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own privatearmy."
"What?" said Harry, completely thrown by thisunexpected piece of information.
"Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths," said Luna solemnly.
"No, he hasn't," snapped Hermione.
"Yes, he has," said Luna.
"What are heliopaths?" asked Neville, looking blank.
"They're spirits of fire," said Luna, her protuberant eyeswidening so that she looked madder than ever. "Great tallflaming creatures that gallop across the ground burningeverything in front of —"
"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione tartly.
"Oh yes they do!" said Luna angrily.
"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" snappedHermione.
"There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just becauseyou're so narrow-minded you need to have everythingshoved under your nose before you —"
"Hem, hem," said Ginny in such a good imitation ofProfessor Umbridge that several people looked around inalarm and then laughed. "Weren't we trying to decide howoften 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 the Quidditch," said Hermionein a tense voice. "Well, the other thing to decide is wherewe'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 doingjinxes in the library," said Harry.
"Maybe an unused classroom?" said Dean.
"Yeah," said Ron, "McGonagall might let us have hers, shedid when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard. ..."
But Harry was pretty certain that McGonagall would notbe so accommodating this time. For all that Hermione hadsaid about study and homework groups being allowed, hehad the distinct feeling this one might be considered a lotmore rebellious.
"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," said Hermione."We'll send a message round to everybody when we've gota time and a place for the first meeting."
She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment anda quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steelingherself to say something.
"I-I think everybody should write their name down, just sowe know who was here. But I also think," she took a deepbreath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about whatwe're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tellUmbridge — or anybody else — what we're up to."
Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully putdown his signature, but Harry noticed at once that severalpeople looked less than happy at the prospect of puttingtheir names on the list.
"Er ..." said Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchmentthat George was trying to pass him. "Well ... I'm sure Erniewill tell me when the meeting is."
But Ernie was looking rather hesitant about signing too.Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.
"I — well, we are prefects," Ernie burst out. "And if thislist was found ... well, I mean to say ... you said yourself, ifUmbridge finds out ..."
"You just said this group was the most important thingyou'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 lyingaround?" said Hermione testily.
"No. No, of course not," said Ernie, looking slightly lessanxious. "I — yes, of course I'll sign."
Nobody raised objections after Ernie, though Harry sawCho's friend give her a rather reproachful look beforeadding her name. When the last person — Zacharias — hadsigned, Hermione took the parchment back and slipped itcarefully into her bag. There was an odd feeling in thegroup now. It was as though they had just signed some kindof contract.
"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred briskly, getting to hisfeet. "George, Lee, and I have got items of a sensitivenature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later."
In twos and threes the rest of the group took their leavetoo. Cho made rather a business of fastening the catch onher bag before leaving, her long dark curtain of hairswinging forward to hide her face, but her friend stoodbeside her, arms folded, clicking her tongue, so that Chohad little choice but to leave with her. As her friend usheredher through the door, Cho looked back and waved at Harry.
"Well, I think that went quite well," said Hermionehappily, as she, Harry, and Ron walked out of the Hog'sHead into the bright sunlight a few moments later, Harryand Ron still clutching their bottles of butterbeer.
"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," said Ron, who wasglowering after the figure of Smith just discernible in thedistance.
"I don't like him much either," admitted Hermione, "buthe overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah at theHufflepuff 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 havecome if he hadn't been going out with Ginny —"
Ron, who had been draining the last few drops from hisbutterbeer bottle, gagged and sprayed butterbeer down hisfront.
"He's WHAT?" said Ron, outraged, his ears nowresembling curls of raw beef. "She's going out with — mysister's going — what d'you mean, Michael Corner?""Well, that's why he and his friends came, I think — well,they're obviously interested in learning defense, but ifGinny 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 theend of last year," said Hermione composedly. They hadturned into the High Street and she paused outsideScrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where there was a handsomedisplay of pheasant-feather quills in the window. "Hmm ... Icould do with a new quill."
She turned into the shop. Harry and Ron followed her.
"Which one was Michael Corner?" Ron demandedfuriously.
"The dark one," said Hermione.
"I didn't like him," said Ron at once.
"Big surprise," said Hermione under her breath.
"But," said Ron, following Hermione along a row of quillsin copper pots, "I thought Ginny fancied Harry!"
Hermione looked at him rather pityingly and shook herhead.
"Ginny used to fancy Harry, but she gave up on himmonths ago. Not that she doesn't like you, of course," sheadded kindly to Harry while she examined a long black-andgold quill.
Harry, whose head was still full of Cho's parting wave, didnot find this subject quite as interesting as Ron, who waspositively quivering with indignation, but it did bringsomething home to him that until now he had not reallyregistered.
"So that's why she talks now?" he asked Hermione. "Shenever used to talk in front of me."
"Exactly," said Hermione. "Yes, I think I'll have this one...."
She went up to the counter and handed over fifteenSickles and two Knuts, Ron still breathing down her neck.
"Ron," she said severely as she turned and trod on hisfeet, "this is exactly why Ginny hasn't told you she's seeingMichael, she knew you'd take it badly. So don't harp onabout it, for heaven's sake."
"What d'you mean, who's taking anything badly? I'm notgoing to harp on about anything ..."
Ron continued to chunter under his breath all the waydown the street. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry andthen said in an undertone, while Ron was mutteringimprecations about Michael Corner, "And talking aboutMichael and Ginny ... what about Cho and you?"
"What d'you mean?" said Harry quickly.
It was as though boiling water was rising rapidly insidehim; a burning sensation that was causing his face to smartin the cold — had he been that obvious?
"Well," said Hermione, smiling slightly, "she just couldn'tkeep her eyes off you, could she?"
Harry had never before appreciated just how beautifulthe village of Hogsmeade was.
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