Dreams Are Falling Short

Our robes billowed and swirled around us as we splashed across the flooded vegetable patch to double Herbology, where we could hardly hear what Professor Sprout was saying over the hammering of raindrops as hard as hailstones on the greenhouse roof. The afternoon’s Care of Magical Creatures lesson was to be relocated from the storm-swept grounds to a free classroom on the ground floor and, to our intense relief, Angelina had sought out the team at lunch to tell us that Quidditch practise was cancelled.

The whole day Harry, Ron, Hermione and I spent our time seeking out those people who had signed their names on the list in the Hog’s Head and telling them where to meet that evening. At half past seven, we left the Gryffindor common room. Fifth-years were allowed to be out in the corridors until nine-o’clock, but all four of us kept looking around nervously as we made our way along the seventh floor.

“Hold it,” Harry warned. “Filch is on the second floor,” he said, holding the map close to his eyes, “and Mrs Norris is on the fourth.”

“And Umbridge?” said Hermione anxiously.

“In her office,” said Harry, pointing. “OK, let’s go.”

We hurried along the corridor to the place Dobby had described to Harry, a stretch of blank wall opposite an enormous tapestry depicting Barnabas the Marmy’s foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet.

“OK,” said Harry quietly, while a moth-eaten troll paused in his relentless clubbing of the would-be ballet teacher to watch us. “Dobby said to walk past this bit of wall three times, concentrating hard on what we need.”

We did so, turning sharply at the window just beyond the blank stretch of wall, then at the man-sized vase on its other side. Ron had screwed up his eyes in concentration; Hermione was whispering something under the breath; Harry’s fists were clenched as he stared ahead of him; I walked slowly and steadily, watching my feet as they across the floor, there and back again.

“Harry!” I said sharply, as we wheeled around after our third walk past.

A highly polished door had appeared in the wall. Ron was staring at it, looking slightly wary. Harry reached out, seized the brass handle, pulled open the door and led the way into a spacious room lit with flickering torches like those that illuminated the dungeons eight floors below.

“These will be good when we’re practising Stunning,” I said enthusiastically, prodding one of the cushions with my foot.

“And just look at all these books!” said Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes. “A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions... The Dark Arts Outsmarted... Self-Defence Spellwork... wow...” She looked around at Harry, her face glowing, and I saw that the presence of hundreds of books had finally convinced Hermione that what we were doing was right. “Harry, this is wonderful, there’s everything we need!”

And without further ado she slid Jinxes for the Jinxed from its shelf, sank on to the nearest cushion and began to read. I rolled my eyes, because it was a typical Hermione thing to do.

There was a gentle knock on the door. I looked round to see that Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Parvati and Dean had arrived.

“Whoa,” said Dean, staring around, impressed. “What is this place?”

Harry began to explain, and we all listened carefully, but before he had finished more people had arrived and he had to start all over again. By the time eight o’clock arrived, every cushion was occupied. I sat in between Fred and George and Hermione and Ron, and watched as Harry moved across to the door and turned the key protruding from its lock; it clicked in a satisfyingly loud way and everybody fell silent, looking at him. Hermione carefully marked her page of Jinxes for the Jinxed and set the book aside.

“Well,” said Harry. “This is the place we’ve found for practise sessions, and you’ve – er – obviously found it OK.”

“It’s fantastic!” said Cho, and several people murmured their agreement.

“It’s bizarre,” said Fred, frowning around at it. “We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then.”

“Hey, Harry, what’s this stuff?” asked Dean from the rear of the room, indicating the Sneakoscopes and the Foe-Glass.

“Dark detectors,” said Harry, stepping between the cushions to reach them. “Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don’t want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled...”

He gazed for a moment into the cracked Foe-Glass, before turning his back on it.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and – er – what, Hermione?”

“I think we ought to elect a leader,” said Hermione, who had raised her hand.

“Harry’s leader,” said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she was mad.

“If it’s not obvious that she fancies him,” Fred whispered in my ear, “then Merlin is my father.”

I laughed quietly, but hushed him; giving his hand a light squeeze.

“Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly,” said Hermione. “It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So – everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?”

Everybody put up their hand, even Zacharias Smith, though he did it very half-heartedly.

“Er – right, thanks,” said Harry, whose face was red. “And – what Hermione?”

“I also think we ought to have a name,” she said brightly, her hand still in the air. “It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don’t you think?”

“Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?” said Angelina hopefully.

“Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?” suggested Fred.

“I was thinking,” said Hermione, frowning at Fred, “more of a name that didn’t tell anyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings.”

“The Defence Association?” said Cho. “The DA for short, so nobody knows what we’re talking about?”

“The DA’s good,” I said. “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army, because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?”

There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this.

“All in favour of the DA?” said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count. “That’s the majority – motion passed!”

She pinned the piece of parchment with all of our signatures on it on the wall and wrote across the top in large letters:

DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY

“Right,” said Harry, when she had sat down again, “shall we get practising then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it’s pretty basic but I’ve found it really useful –“

“Oh, please,” said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. “I don’t think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?

“I’ve used it against him,” said Harry quietly. “It saved my life in June.”

Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was very quiet.

“But if you think it’s beneath you, you can leave,” said Harry.

Smith did not move. Nor did anybody else.

-

“Well, that was pretty good,” said Harry, “but we’ve overrun, we’d better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?”

“Sooner!” said Dean Thomas eagerly and many people nodded in agreement.

Angelina, however, said quickly, “The Quidditch season’s about to start, we need team practices too!”

“Let’s say next Wednesday night, then,” said Harry, “we can decided on additional meetings then. Come on, we’d better get going.”

“Wait – before you all go!” I said. “Can you all do me a huge favour?”

I quickly told them all about the Umbridge prank, and told them to spread the fact that Fred and I weren’t actually together, and they all agreed. Once we were in the common room, I pulled Fred aside and we stayed up together while everyone went to bed.

“I have a surprise for you,” I said, smiling at him from where I was sitting on a big squishy arm-chair by the fire.

“Give it to me!” Fred said, his face lighting up like a little child.

“Okay, come on,” I took his hand and dragged him to the portrait hole.

“What is it?” Fred asked as we walked through a secret-passageway to our location.

“You’ll see,” I said. “Actually, here put his on.” I handed him a scarf for him to tie over his eyes as a blind fold. “I suppose you won’t be seeing after all.”

I led him carefully down stairs and passageways all the way down to the portrait that I was looking for, where I tickled the pear and stepped into the warm comfort of the kitchen.

“You can take it off now,” I said, as the house-elves all came rushing towards us (we were regularly down in the kitchens and they all knew us by this point.)

“What can we do for you tonight, Miss Corey?” a short little house elf said.

“If you could get us both a hot chocolate and some of the cake you served for desert tonight, that’d be great,” I said politely, and a couple of house elves instantly scuttled off.

Fred and I sat down at a small table next to the fire, and wait for our food and drink.

“So I thought, since everyone will know by lunch tomorrow, that this could be our last... ‘date’,” I said.

Just then our cake and hot chocolate arrived, and the elves bowed before leaving us be.

“Best-“ Fred took a bite of his cake, “ – fake –“ and another bite, “ – girlfriend –“ another bite “ – ever.”

I considered for a moment tell him that I actually really liked him, but I thought the better of it and quickly took a bite of my own slice of cake instead.