The Werewolf and the Twin

"anyone who angers you, conquers you."

❦❦❦

You ever just know that you’re going to have a bad day? You just get that feeling in your gut that’s like you swallowed rocks or you just have that unpleasant taste in your mouth for no apparent reason? Well, I experienced that the whole day.

When I finally woke up, I woke up to the mother of all headaches; one that was only bested by those I got after I changed. I felt my blood pulse behind my eyelids and felt a sharp jab in my sinuses. I recoiled from the light when I opened my eyes and curled under the blankets again, thrusting the comforter over my head.

Taking deep breaths, I attempted to control my head a bit. I finally got steadied enough to slowly bring the comforter over my head and adjust to the light bit by bit. It hurt like hell but I knew I would have to get used to it sometime. When I finally got steadied enough that I could sit up- an action that made my stomach churn and threaten to rebel- I saw Lavender directly ahead of me and figured out what happened to cause my dreadful headache.

She had decided it was apparently a fantastic idea to spray some type of liquid all over the damned place. It smelled awful and prosthetic and smashed into my nostrils with a vengeance. It was like I was drowning in it and it hurt to breathe. I don’t know how much she sprayed but it was so thick in the air that I was starting to get dizzy.

“It’s imported from Paris. So romantic, right?” She was squealing. My previous sleep euphoria went out the window and I had to consciously remind myself not to kick the crap out of her- even though I doubted my ability to do so when in my current condition. A low growl trickled from my throat and only those closest to me heard any of it.

Hermione had been previously buttoning up her shirt when she had heard. Turning to me, she started saying good morning before something else distracted her:

“Hey, are you okay? You look awful.” She had a worried look on her face and it brightened my day a little bit that she cared- even if she had just insulted me.

“I feel awful.” I replied honestly, shooting a glance at Lavender who had just released another round of the spray. Oh God…

“Are you sick? Do you want me to talk you to the Hospital Wing?” She asked, placing a hand on my arm and looking me in the eye directly.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I took a deep breath, not that it helped much considering it was laced intimately with the perfume, and threw my legs over the side of my bed. The motion made black dots swarm in my vision and I put a hand to my head, cradling it, pleading with it to not fail me.

The fact that I was having my ass kicked by perfume did not sit well with me. If I hadn’t have been a screwed-up werewolf, this would never have been a problem. But no, I had to be a messed-up, part-veela, werewolf thing that was bested by mere body sprays. It did not make my day seem any brighter.

Dressing was a struggle. Every few movements, black dots swam in my vision and my breathing felt harder. Lavender had yet to stop spraying that god-awful perfume and was still going on and on about it in a much too high voice. If this is what a hang-over felt like, I am never drinking.

“My cousin sent it to me. She said it works on all the guys and is guaranteed to get you a boyfriend. I wonder if it has spells on it or something. Maybe love potion too!” Is squealing all she ever did? Can’t she just talk normally? The sharp pitch of her voice did nothing for my headache which had slowly become worse the longer I stood up. The Patil twins were crowded around her, drinking in the perfume with wide eyes. They were clearly fonder of it than I was.

Hermione had yet to stop looking at me though. She seemed to have acquired this intense worried look on her face and kept glancing over at me whenever I moved. I tried to look normal but was hard-pressed when Lavender started skipping around the room, swirling the airs content.

The swirling brought new spray over my nose again and again. I decided that if I ever were given the choice not to smell, I would take it. No, that’s a lie. I settled for breathing in through my mouth instead.

I was halfway through pulling my second combat boot on when it happened. Lavender had finally caught sight of me up and awake before prancing over to me with an eager look on her face. It took all my effort to feign a smile.

“Ariel! Have you seen my new perfume? It’s from Paris. My cousin sent it to me. Doesn’t it smell gorgeous? Here! Try some!” Holding out her hand, she pointed the perfume nozzle towards me.

I barely got “No!” out before she had pressed her finger down and sent a cloud of perfume spray all over me.

And that’s all it took. I passed out.

---

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that I needed to pee. Funny how my priorities were right?

I was in a small twin bed, covered by a thin sheet and white quilt that did nothing for staying warm. There was a curtain around me, blocking out the rest of the room but I had already deduced that I was in the Hospital Wing. It smelled, blessedly, clean and sterile. No hints of the retched perfume that Lavender had oh-so politely bestowed on me against my will.

I also noticed that I wasn’t in my clothes anymore. I was stripped to my tank-top and uniform skirt. My combat boots were by my bed and a clean robe on the chair along with a clean shirt. They must have given me other clothes since the ones I had on before were drenched in the smell.

My head only had a trace of the headache from before and my stomach no longer wanted me to meet my stomach acid. There were no black dots and no dizziness. I was thankful; feeling like that did not start my day well.

I had just started throwing my legs over the side of the bed in the intention of getting dressed when I heard a sharp voice bark out from outside the curtains. The tone in it made me instantly freeze in my actions.

Suddenly, the curtains were thrown back, revealing a very stern looking older woman, whom I assumed was Madam Pomfrey. She scared me.

“No getting up! Do you realize what happened back there? You passed out! Did you eat enough? Sleep enough? How have you been sleeping anyway? You really need to take care of yourself better!” She ranted, while busying herself with checking me over. She looked into my eyes, looked down my throat, and other things before deducting that I was indeed not in any immediate danger.

“I think you know why I passed out, Madam Pomfrey.” Was all I said as I pulled on my combat boots, thankful for the familiar feel. The Nurse stilled in her movement before picking up faster than before, now mumbling under her breath.

When I had gotten done re-dressing, she checked me again, surveyed me (how do you feel, etc.), and forced me to drink some pumpkin juice saying it would be good to have something in my stomach.

Really, I was fine though. I only passed out because my sense had gone into an over-load because of the excess perfume. I was eating right, getting a lot of sleep, wasn’t that stressed. She really didn’t need to be fretting over me.

“Now, I want you to be careful today. No over-doing it. It may just have been an over-load because of…” she looked uncomfortable, “well, anyway, take it easy and get to class. It’s 2nd period.” Great. Snape. Gross.

To say that I then moved my movements to the bare minimum speed would be an understatement. With luck, it would take me so long to get to his class that I would miss the whole thing! Why did I get dressed so quickly?! I should’ve known that this type of thing would happen.

“Hurry! I expect you in class in the next ten minutes and I’ll know if you’re not.” Madam Pomfrey threatened. Damnit. It’s like she knows she scares the crap out of me.

So, I had to rush to class. Ten minutes was barely enough time to go get my stuff then get to Potions so I had to run. Sure I loved Hogwarts but sometimes, when you need to hurry, the bigness of it was a hindrance.

Finally, after I had a stitch in my side and I was bordering sweating, I skidded in front of Potions and ripped the door open, making myself known quite thoroughly. Everybody’s head snapped up at the sound of the door being wrenched from the frame and me rushing into the room, holding my side as it burned.

Normally I was a good runner but apparently, my lungs still needed to get over the perfume induced black-out. Seriously? I was breaking because of perfume. Queue dark morbid clouds.

“Ah- Miss Vanderwik. How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence. You now get to add two additional hours to your detention time tonight- if you even decide to show.” Snape mocked from behind his desk. I was three steps into his class and I already felt like tipping over a desk. How he managed to do that is astounding.

The Slytherins’ all snickered and I shot them a withering look that stopped the noise. Hermione, Harry, and Ron shot me pitying looks that I promptly ignored and I stalked my way over to the desk I shared with the oh-so pleasant Draco Malfoy. Can you hex yourself?

“Well, you look in a great mood today, baby.” Draco sneered, leaning onto the desk with a cruel smirk on his face.

I was dumb-founded, “Baby? Do you want to have your ass beat or are you just masochistic like that?” He just laughed with no sense of warmth and his silver-blue eyes glittered ruthlessly. This was not helping my mood.

“I’ll take whatever you’d do to me, honey.”

“Were you dropped as a baby? I don’t think you could’ve forgotten already what I did on my first day here and I’m sure your face remembers.” His smirk drooped a little and I allowed myself a small victory before he started again. I didn’t get his deal. Yesterday, he was hiding on the other side of the table, too scared to talk directly to me and now he was hitting on me?

“I’ve always liked it a bit rough.” He leaned forward on his hand and lowered his voice, holding my gaze. My temper spiked.

So, as I got up with my cauldron to go get the assigned potions’ ingredients, I swept my hand backwards and knocked his palm from under his chin. His head fell violently but he caught it at the last second; an inch away from slamming his chin onto the hard wood desk. His smirk dropped completely and he glared. I wasn’t impressed.

As I walked towards the ingredients cabinet, I smirked coldly at him and winked with no amusement. It was a deadly expression that said I meant business.

Feather of a raven, mucus of a glow-worm, shell of beetle. Were we seriously going to ingest this? I volunteered Draco Malfoy to try it first. It was a Happiness Potion, one that Snape didn’t look so happy to assign. If it were up to him, I’m sure we’d be concocting something poisonous, which Harry or I would try out to see if it was made right.

Hell, I’d rather drink poison than go back to the table.

It said the potion needed about half an hour to make and I had only a few minutes more than that left of class. So, I went back to my desk, promptly ignoring Draco which he didn’t seem too keen about. I sat down, back ram-rod straight, un-at-ease and tense as if waiting to be struck. I didn’t trust him, which was pretty obvious.

Crushing the beetle shell with the flat of my silver knife, I mentally blanched. I hated bugs. Especially spiders. Sure being a werewolf made me more resilient to damage, stronger, and healed faster than other people, but spiders still gave me the willies. They were evil. Nothing should have that many legs.

And Draco Malfoy shouldn’t have arms apparently. As I finished grinding the beetle to a find powder, Draco’s hand ghosted over my knee, traveling higher and higher, playing with the hem of my skirt. I stopped grinding, reached one hand under the table and grabbed his fingers just as they slipped under the hem.

I gripped them tightly, crunching them together mercilessly. He winced but withheld a yelp of pain I knew was in the back of his throat. Squeezing tighter, I waited until he made eye contact with me. He winced at my stare more than the pain in his fingers.

I leaned in close, keeping my voice quiet and making sure no one else could hear what I was saying:

“Listen and listen well, because I’m going to say this only once. I don’t like you and I never will. I think you’re a pig who desperately needs more than his nose busted. You’re little more than dirt to me right now and putting a hand on me is not the best idea. I’ve had a shitty day already and you touching me isn’t making it any better. Do it again and I’ll break off your fingers one by one.” I squeezed tighter and he groaned lowly, pain increasing. I waited a moment, making sure the message sunk in before releasing his fingers so he could yank them back to relative safety.

I felt bleak. My mood was black and I felt the anger from the day settle on my chest, making it hard to breathe. The “count to ten and breathe deeply and slowly” didn’t help at all either. I felt like resting my head on the table and sitting there until the mood faded away with time. I had a feeling the rest of the days events wouldn’t help my mood. Especially since I had to deal with Umbridge later.

Draco was shooting me a dark look that reeked with hatred and I shot him back one that matched it. Why he even tried the feel up was beyond me. Seriously? Did he think I liked him? I punched him in the face for Pete’s sake! How much more of an “I don’t like you” action can you do?

Sighing as my mood got blacker, I began the potion again, reading and re-reading the instructions carefully, making sure I got nothing wrong. With two minutes to spare until the end of class, the potion was done and I carefully spelled a portion into a test bottle, marking my name on it.

Grumbling to myself about my day, I stalked towards Snape’s desk, making sure to place my sample in the middle of all the others, no where near an edge or anything. He didn’t even acknowledge my presence. Asshole.

The cleaning didn’t take very long but I had just placed my silver knife back in the sheath for it as the bell sound rang. Instantly, Hermione was by my side rambling on and on about this morning when I passed out.

“I seriously panicked, Ariel! You could’ve been seriously ill for all I knew! You’ve been eating right haven’t you? Are you stressed about the transfer?” she asked question after question, leaving me with no way to actually answer any of them. It irked me a little but I resisted from snapping at her because she was only being a good friend.

We (meaning Ron, Harry, and I) waited for her to finish. All of the students but us had left the room, hurrying towards lunch.

Finally when she had trailed off, obviously waiting for me to respond, I opened my mouth but stopped when I heard something that made my stomach clench with anger.

Glass had broken from behind me. I whipped around, already knowing what had happened. Snape stood in front of his desk, looking down at a little glass sample potion vial that had been smashed on the ground. A little slip of writing was soaked in the potion but my eyesight was good enough that I could read the little soaked slip.

Ariel V. in neat, curly handwriting.

It was like I was punched in the stomach. Anger curled in the pit of me, dark and hot and I felt my chest tighten. I snarled at him, surprising myself at the act. It was closer to my werewolf form than I had been since the change and it scared me. Stumbling a step back and nearly knocking into Ron, I tore my gaze from Snape who was smirking victoriously and hurried from the room, leaving Harry and the others behind.

I made my way through the dungeons without really registering anything. My mind was miles away, desperately trying to calm myself a little bit. Showing my more volatile side wasn’t helping my day and wasn’t helping me keep my cover. Snape deliberately egged me on, knowing that I was in a black mood. He knew I wasn’t in control.

I guess that’s my fault. I should be in control. I should be able to handle all this. What was going on? I just needed to breathe. That’s it. Breathing.

I decided to go flying. Lunch was an hour so I’d have enough time to grab my broom and head to the field. I wasn’t even remotely hungry even though I had missed breakfast, so I knew my anger was extreme. I loved eating and did it seriously often and knowing that I wasn’t hungry after thirteen hours with no sustenance tipped me off that I definitely shouldn’t be around people right now.

Since I finally had a destination, I adjusted the strap of my bag and hurried off towards the field. I knew that Umbridge had confiscated Harry’s and the Twin’s brooms and locked the others up by the field but I wasn’t worried about the lock. Living in an orphanage and keeping out half the nights taught me a trick or two.

The sky was over-cast today, with even darker clouds than yesterday. It raised my mood a little knowing that snow was coming, but it wasn’t enough to raise it entirely. I wasn’t even sure that flying could do it either but it would at least help to gain some control over myself. Plus, I was maybe indulging myself, considering I hadn’t flown for weeks. It was one of the things that lifted all stress from my shoulders.

When the field came in sight, I hurried towards it faster, jostling my bag but ignoring it as it banged repeatedly into my thigh. I entered the changing rooms and walked through them and out onto the field. There was a small door to my left as I exited and I dropped by bag by the doorway.

Standing in front of the door, I checked to see if it was locked.

“Alohomora.” The door handle jiggled but didn’t set off the tumblers. I sighed, guess I would have to do this the old fashion way.

What most people didn’t realize is that when someone charmed a lock not to unlock, they charm it against spells that an unlock them. They forget about the way Muggles do it so they never charm against it. Growing up in the orphanage and practically on the streets, learning how to pick locks was an invaluable skill.

No I never stole anything but most of the time in the orphanage, the kids would freak out and lock themselves in their room and since the Mistress running the place would always loose the keys, the only options to get to the kids was to either pick the lock or break down the door.

The Mistress always preferred more subtle ways.

Reminiscing over my orphanage years, I kneeled in front of the door, plucking a bobby-pin out of my hair and unsheathing the silver knife that I had from potions. I poked the bobby pin and knife into the lock and wiggled it around in a practiced form, perfected by the numerous times I had to do it for the orphanage.

After less than a minute, I heard a faint click as the tumblers released. I grinned, victorious, pleased that I had yet to loose the art of it. I put the bobby-pin back in my hair and put the knife away before opening the storage door and rummaging through the brooms present. I quickly found my Nimbus 2000.

I loved my broom. Sure it wasn’t the fastest broom ever but it was still a pretty damn good broom and had served me well. I wasn’t even embarrassed about the fact that I named it “Mop”. Get it? Cause a mop is like a cousin of a broom? Well, I thought it was humorous when I had gotten it…

Shrugging off my cloak and quickly tying up my hair in a messy bun, I mounted my broom and was quickly in the air.

God, it was amazing flying. The moment my feet left the ground, my heart leapt into my throat and I relished the weight-less experience. After the initial shock of becoming air-born, a delightful spark entered my chest.

It was mischievous and cocky and made a bubble of laughter erupt from my mouth. I felt like zooming to the stars, faster than the eye can see. I could do anything on a broom; I could see everything on a broom.

I wasn’t a werewolf when I was flying. I wasn’t veela or a girl or human. I was the sky, clouds, part of the air.

Shooting up completely vertical, I loved the wind rushing against me with cold fingers. The air was cold and sharp and seemed to cool the anger in my chest as I breathed in. The potions incident no longer seemed that big of a deal. Neither was Draco feeling me up or me passing out.

All of it was gone, behind me. Flying could do wonders.

Once I reached an altitude that it hurt to breathe in, I stopped going up and moved my legs off my broom, holding on with only my right hand. Instantly, I was plummeting towards the ground, marveling at how fast I was going.

My stomach had climbed somewhere near my brain but I didn’t mount the broom just yet. I fell closer to the ground and rushed by the tops of the stadium towers. The feeling of being completely weightless was a wonderful stress-reliever. I’d done this before and every time it never failed to give me goose bumps and send my senses screaming. I wasn’t afraid. I was never afraid when it came to flying.

It wasn’t until I was less than fifty feet to the ground that I adjusted my broom.

Once I got back on, I shot myself into a parallel trail with the ground. I’d stopped rushing towards it with less than five feet away and I grinned at the adrenaline thumping through my veins.

God, I felt fantastic. I swirled and tumbled and raced invisible competitors on my broom, not caring about anything else other than flying; the thing I did best-among other things. No sexual innuendo intended.

Even though I was having the time of my life, I made sure to keep an eye on my watch. It made me inexplicably sad when I saw it hit a quarter to noon, meaning I had to pack up and head back up to the school if I wanted to be on time for Charms. Honestly? I’d rather keep flying and skip Charms (even though I loved it) than go to Umbridge’s class after- but that wasn’t saying much considering I’d pick having my teeth ripped out among other things than be in the same room with her presence in it for any amount of time.

Gently, forlornly, I floated to the ground, watching in dismay as it got closer and closer. My combat boots touched the grass and it was like the weight of the world suddenly collapsed on my shoulders. I felt insanely tired but no longer angry. I’d take tired over angry any day.

It wrenched my heart to place my beloved broom stick back into the storage closet and re-lock it. The feeling I got when I flew seemed distant and unreachable now. I hated it.

Sighing, I picked up my bag, shouldered it, and headed back to the castle, reaching the doors as the bell rang. Right on time for Charms followed by a bit of my own personal Hell.

- - -

When I had told Dumbledore I wouldn’t get in anymore trouble, I meant it. I was going to be a star student and make sure to make him proud. I was already unconvincing him with having to go through my werewolf problem; the least I could do was be good kid and not cause any more unwanted problems.

Only, I didn’t anticipate that Umbridge could get worse seeing as she was a major irk factor in my life, one that I counted immensely in my daily irritation factor. It shouldn’t be possible for spawn of Satan to get worse but it was like she just woke up that day and said “Hey, let’s not only be spawn of Satan but evil incarnate!” I really wasn’t joking here folks.

She literally had us reciting, out-loud, in unison, Ministry approved guidelines for defensive magic use. She skipped around us, giggling her little disgusting giggle, with a small, completely fake smile on her froggy face. It was despicable.

“The Ministry has the well-being of all magical persons in mind. Protection, Justice, and Help are main factors whenever considering the teaching curriculum of all future students. We at the Ministry feel that students do not need to participate in and/or perform any defensive jinxes, curses, or hexes of any sort unless they are in a safe, protected environment provided by the Ministry.

“The students that the Ministry has enforced the approved curriculum on have responded well and accepted the curriculum whole-heartedl-” Something that sounded mysteriously like my laugh, cut through the monotone chant of students. Everyone, of course, stopped dead and looked over to where the laugh had come from.

Me.

Well, this can’t end well.

“Do you find something humorous, Miss Vanderwik?” Professor Umbridge asked sweetly, cocking her head to the right, smiling as if she’d swallowed a lemon. I kept my face neutral, tired about how she had to call me out. Seriously? Was she expecting us to be all fine and dandy about this…this… crap?... that she called teaching? She obviously had too much faith in our brainwashedness level.

“No. I don’t.” I spoke evenly, calmly, looking straight into her eyes, resisting the urge to cock an eyebrow and smirk, knowing that particular expression would only cause me trouble.

Umbridge smiled sickeningly, tipping her head even more and wagging her finger at me in mock reprmandation, “Oh- it’s not good to tell lies Miss Vanderwik! Surely you could just give us a hint about what you find so funny. Sharing is much better than lying.”

“I told you, I don’t find anything funny. You must have been hallucinating or something.” My patience was wearing thin and that joke proved it to me. Umbridge’s smile dropped off her face and she put on a stern expression instead.

“Miss Vanderwik, I’m asking you to please shed light on what you found so funny that you had to disrupt class.” Her voice was colder now, less squeaky, and her pallor had lightened and she now looked faintly green. Sit her on a lily-pad and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between her and Trevor.

“And I said I didn’t find anything funny; I mean, why would any person in their right mind would take humor in the fact that this article is complete and tota-” I stopped before I could say anything that would get me in trouble, cursing that I hadn’t stopped in time before I got too far along. Sarcasm was going to kill me someday.

“Complete and total what?” Umbridge prompted, waving a hand for me to go one. I glared and remained silent. She walked closer to me and waved her hand again.

I felt my eyebrow twitch in irritation and just wish she’d back off, this really wasn’t an issue worth pursuing.

“Tell me now, Miss Vanderwik.” She had pressed her lips in a thin line, one that rivaled that of Professor McGonagall’s.

“Fine- bullshit,” I snapped, finally loosing my patience altogether. It was like she’d poked me with a stick, egging me on, knowing I’d crack and say something profane eventually. “That article is complete and total bullshit but oh- it’s nothing compared to this class. Seriously though, did someone have a stroke and loose all brain function when they qualified you as a teacher? Because with your skills, you know the ones that you portray so vividly when you have us take notes the whole class?, with your skills, that’s the only way you got qualified.”

I thought it had been silent when I had walked into the Great Hall on my first day here, I thought it had been silent when I had punched Draco in the face, but this? This by far was like being completely deaf.

Umbridge’s face had slowly turned redder and redder as I spoke vehemently. A smirk grew on my lips as I talked and I realized that I didn’t regret a word I was saying. Getting this out so early would save me holding it in and making an even bigger outburst weeks from now.

It disturbed me a little, wondering where all this anger had come from. I had never really talked back to teachers or gotten into fights before Hogwarts, so why was I reacting so volatile here?

“Please leave my class, Miss Vanderwik. You also have a two weeks detention starting Monday.” She was shaking slightly and I felt a small pleasure that I had broken her cool, calm, frilly exterior a bit. I stood up, standing taller than her, towering over her pink form, my back stick-straight and my chin held high. I gathered my things and walked past all of the shocked faces of my fellow classmates and exited the room.

Once out of there, it’s like I could finally breathe again. My face was flushed from my ranting and I had gotten about twenty degrees hotter from the anger. I shrugged off my cloak before wandering the hallways.

I didn’t know where I was going honestly. I just felt like walking. I loved the castle. Honestly, I couldn’t get over it. They’ve always seemed so… magical and fierce to me.

After about ten minutes of walking around, I found myself in front of the library. Yeah, my day just got better.

Inside were dozens of shelves, climbing all the way too the top of the room with was high and arched. It smelled musty; like old paper filled with untold secrets and knowledge. It smelled like leather and wood and dust and oh-so amazing.

I could just sit in the middle of the floor in the library and be happy. Surrounded by that many books, it was calming. The smell was easy on my nose and it was quiet. The perfect place to relax. So I did.

The teacher that normally manned the desk by the entrance of the library was gone and there seemed to be no one in the whole room. I had it to myself.

I walked straight down the main isle and stopped in the middle of the room, dropping my bag somewhere to my left and laying down on the cool stones, facing the vaulted ceiling, breathing in the smells of the room and feeling at peace and content.

- - -

Harry, Ron, and Hermione found me a while later, almost dozing on the floor but not quite. Sure the cold, hard floor didn’t do wonders on my back but it felt amazing anyway. I could live with a sore back. I’d heal by tomorrow anyway.

“Ariel, we have something to say to you.” Harry said solemnly. My happy feeling was instantly gone, replaced by a surge of panic and sadness. Bolting up from my laid down position, I looked at them all, bleakly, preparing myself for the inevitable.

‘Here it comes…’ I thought in despair.

“We’ve only known you a few days and truthfully? We don’t know much about you.” Harry said, looking straight at me. My stomach dropped a bit.

“But we know you enough to do this.” Ron took over and I switched my gaze to him.

“We’d like to ask if you if you want to join the D.A.” Hermione finished. My bleak mood disappeared and I was left with confusion.

“The D.A….?” I prompted, looking at the three.

“Dumbledore’s Army.” explained Hermione, as I stood up fully. “No it’s not an actual army but we made it since we were so outraged about the Ministry taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts. We thought Umbridge’s teaching was trash so we made a group that meets in secret and practices defensive spells. Since we’re not allowed to do them in class.”

“It’s our own way of getting back at her, especially with her sadistic detentions. No one will believe me but Voldemort is back and the Ministry is swearing up and down he isn’t. We need to know how to protect ourselves. That’s what the D.A. is for.” Harry looked angry as he spoke, but I understood. Having people call me a liar is one of the most irritating things that can happen to me.

“I’m in.” I said, a grim smile on my face.

“That easy? You know it’s against the Decree’s that Umbridge posted. You could get expelled or more deten-” Hermione warned but I cut her off.

“I’m in.” I repeated, completely sure of what I was doing. “I’ve been her four days and I already blew up on her so I can’t imagine having to have dealt with her the whole year. I believe you, Harry. I do. You guys have done nothing but accept me and we may not have known each other long, but I trust you guys and I’ll do anything to fuck with Umbridge.”

I grinned, a bit wickedly, I’ll admit, but the trio smiled nonetheless. Ron took a galleon out of his pocket and flipped it towards me. I caught it without looking as I reached over to grab my bag. Vaguely, I saw Hermione’s eyebrows raise but I thought nothing of it.

“What’s this for?” I asked, shrugging the pack onto my shoulder.

“That’s how you know of the meetings. The numbers engraved on the side of the coin will light up, showing you the date of the new meeting. The coin will grow warm when the date changes. We hold the meetings in the Room of Requirement.” Hermione pulled out a galleon of her own. I whistled, impressed.

“Welcome to the club.” Ron grinned excitedly, and I laughed, walking forward to link my arm with Hermione’s as we exited the library.