As the Sister of Harry Potter

“Do you vomit when you open the paper?
Are you sick from what the Prophet’s gonna say?
Are you paralyzed by the Ministry’s lies?
It’d be nice to get some real news today.

They’re not telling the truth
Here’s what we can do;

Save the Quibble from the Ministry’s rage
Make your voice heard, get on your feet
We lose our power when we lose our voice
You can’t let Cornelius Fudge make your choice!

The Ministry’s acting like their big brother
But more like Percy, ‘cuz Bill is pretty cool
We’re not brainwashed like Gilderoy Lockhart
‘Cuz we won’t accept just anyone’s lies or rules

They’re not telling the truth
Here’s what we’re gonna do;

Save the Quibbler from the Ministry’s rage
Make your voice heard, get on your feet
We lose our power when we lose our voice
You can’t let the Daily Prophet make your choice!

Save the Quibbler!”

“So that was Mr. Rockstar’s latest song, Save the Quibbler! Now, I’m going to sign us off with a little joke! You might be a Pureblood if… your mother is also your sister. Have a good day!”

That was Lee and Hyden’s announcement the morning after Professor Trelawney got sacked.

CMC became quite an anxious class. Any day now, Hagrid could get the sack, because Umbridge seemed to be on a roll now. It was also getting trickier by the day to pull pranks at night because she was up, patrolling around, attempting to find us.

DA remained the only thing that kept Harry going. We were working on Patronuses that evening shortly before Easter. Everyone was doing well, but as Harry and I reminded them, it was easy when you were in a bright room without a Dementor.

“We really need a Boggart,” commented Harry as he walked around watching with his stag by his side.

My lion paced with graceful power beside me as I helped Neville. “Just think of something happy!”

“I’m – trying!” Neville grunted, his face shining with sweat from the effort.

“Jennifer! I got it!” cried out Brittany Chang, a large silver dove circling around her head.

The door opened and closed. No one seemed to have entered, but everyone went silent as Dobby tugged on Harry’s robes. “Dobby! What’re you – what’s wrong?” Dobby was shaking.

“Harry Potter sir… Dobby has come to warn you…” Dobby ran headfirst into the wall, but he merely bounced off due to his many hats.

“What’s happened Dobby?” asked Harry, seizing Dobby.

“Harry Potter… she… she…”

“Who’s she?” Dobby looked up at him cross-eyed, his mouth moving soundlessly.

“Umbridge?” I asked, horrified. Dobby nodded and tried to bang his head on Harry’s knees. “What about her? She hasn’t found out about – about us – about DA?” Dobby tried to kick himself and fell to the floor.

“Is she coming?” Harry asked quietly.

Frantic, Dobby screamed, “Yes Harry Potter yes!”

There was a moment of terror where no one spoke until Harry bellowed, “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? RUN!” Then there was a scramble for the door as everyone tried to escape. Harry scooped up Dobby. He and I were the last ones out the door.

“Sarlanda! Take Brittany to your dorm!” I yelled as I booked it for the staircase down to the Gryffindor commonroom. I heard Harry yell from the opposite direction – “AHH!” I screamed as something caught around my ankles at the top of the stairs. I tumbled down, head over heels, smashing my nose and elbows on the steps. When my body stopped spinning, blood flowed out my nose and my vision was fuzzy. My elbows hurt something awful.

“I got another Professor,” called out a voice I knew only too well.

“Excellent Lance! I’ve got the other one, so you get her and follow me to the Headmaster’s office.” Disoriented, I was yanked to my feet and dragged roughly by my arm.

“Suck royal Hippogriff, Lance!” I yelled through my nosebleed.

As we were dragged down the corridors, I thought about everyone else. Mrs. Weasley would kill her children… Hermione would be crushed… Neville was getting so good… it was Seamus’s first meeting… Cedric would defiantly never talk to me again…

“Fizzing Whizbee.” Umbridge lead Harry and I up the stairs. “Lance, go look for others,” she instructed, and he obeyed. Umbridge pushed us inside the office, which was full of people. Dumbledore was behind his desk, with McGonagall beside him, rigid. Fudge was there, looking extremely pleased. Kingsly Shacklebolt and another man were there, acting as guards. Completing the picture was Percy, hovering around with a quill and parchment.

“Well,” said Fudge. “Well, well, well.” I glared at him, which probably actually looked scary, seeing as I was covered in blood again.

“They were headed for Gryffindor Tower,” said Umbridge with the same glee she had in her voice the night she sacked Trelawney. “The Malfoy boys cornered them.”

“Good, good… well Potters, I expect you know why you’re here?”

It took a moment for Harry to respond. “Yeh – no.”

“No?”

“No,” Harry said firmly.

“You don’t know why you’re here?”

“No, we don’t,” I said, catching on. Fudge looked from me to Harry to Umbridge, incredulous.

“So it’s news to you that you’re breaking Ministry decrees and an illegal student organization was found in this school?”

“Yeup,” we both said, trying to look innocent.

“I think Minister, it will help if I fetch our informant,” said Umbridge silkily.

“Yes, yes, do,” nodded Fudge. Minutes later, Umbridge re-appeared with Cho’s friend Marietta, who was hiding her face.

“Don’t be scared dear, the Minister is pleased with you.”

“Yes dear, just tell us what – galloping gargoyles!” Fudge leaped away as we saw Marietta’s face, which had close-set purple pimples across her nose and cheeks spelling out SNEAK. She pulled her shirt up to her eyes with a squeak.

“Never mind them dear, just tell –” But she shook her head franticly. “Fine, I’ll tell him. Miss Edgecombe here came to my office after dinner and told me that if I proceeded to the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor, I would find some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately though, the hex came into effect and she refused to tell me anymore.”

“Well, haven’t you a counterjinx for this?” asked Fudge impatiently.

“I have not yet managed to find one,” Umbridge admitted, and I mentally cheered for Hermione.

“But it doesn’t matter, I can tell the story from here. You will remember, Minister, my telling you that the Potters had a meeting with fellow students back in October at the Hog’s Head –”

“What evidence is there of that?” cut in McGonagall.

“I have a testimony from Willy Widdershins, who just happened to be in the bar at the time.”

“Oh, so that’s why he wasn’t prosecuted for all those regurgitating toilets?”

“Blatant corruption!” yelled a portrait from behind Dumbledore’s desk.

“The purpose of the Potter’s meeting,” continued Umbridge, “was to persuade the others to join an illegal society for learning spells the Ministry has deemed inappropriate for their age.”

“You will find you are wrong there, Dolores. That meeting was not illegal, seeing as the decree banning student clubs was made two days later,” pointed out Dumbledore.

“That’s all very find Headmaster,” recovered Umbridge, “but all the meetings since that decree have been illegal.”

“Well, they certainly would have been, if they had continued after that first meeting. All we know of are the first meeting and the meeting tonight.” Umbridge was stunned for a moment, but then turned back to Marietta.

“Miss Edgecombe, do tell us how long these meetings have been going on. Have they been happening regularly over the past six months?”

My heart stopped. I prayed that Marietta would shake her head, to just lie to Umbridge… the slowly, very slowly, she shook her head no.

“What do you mean by shaking your head?” asked Umbridge testily.

“Well, I thought it was obvious. There have been no secret meetings the past six months. Is that right?” McGonagall asked.

Marietta nodded.

“But there was a meeting tonight!” said Umbridge furiously. Then she grinned evilly. “And I have the names of everyone who participated.” She produced from her pocket, to my horror, the list of DA members. “As soon as I saw the Potters names at the top, I knew what we were dealing with.”

Fudge scanned over the list. “By thunder! See what they’ve named themselves? Dumbledore’s Army!”

“Well, the game is up. Would you like a written confession, or are these witnesses enough?” said Dumbledore simply.

Fudge stared at him for a moment before whispering, “You.”

“Me. I organized them for my army. Note how is says ‘Dumbledore’s Army,’ not ‘Potter’s Army.’”

“Then you shall be escorted to the Ministry and Azkaban for trial! Have you got everything written down Weasley?” barked Fudge.

“Yes I have sir!”

“Ah, yes. I thought we might hit this little snag. You see, I have no intention to –what’s the phrase? ‘Come quietly.’ I have no intention of gong to Azkaban at all.”

“Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!” Fudge yelled madly.

With a screech, Fawkes flew over and Dumbledore grabbed his long tail feathers. A bang and a flash of fire, and Dumbledore was gone. There was a silence while everyone recovered their breath.

It was Phineas Nigellus’s portrait who broke the silence. “You know Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts… but you cannot deny he’s got style…”