"Black, stay behind, please. The rest of you go to your next class." Rigel packed up slowly waving his friends goodbye.
When Rigel reached Professor McGonagall's desk the woman was looking up at him with a curious expression on her face. Rigel spoke first.
"I'm sorry I haven't finished my homework yet, Professor," he said, tugging on his sleeves nervously.
"Why didn't you tell me about your anxiety potions?" Rigel looked at McGonagall, his insides still contracting with shame at his marks.
"I didn't want to worry you" Rigel mumbled.
Professor McGonagall sighed. "You're just like your father. Though he would be too proud to admit it." Rigel looked up at her. "I think you have forgotten something, Mr Black."
"What?" Rigel asked, thinking it was some homework.
"I have been taking a look at your other subjects. What have you been getting in Potions?" Eliza thought for a moment before replying.
"E's."
"Herbology?"
"A and an E, I think."
"Charms?"
"E's and Os."
"Arithmancy and Runes?"
"E's." Rigel wondered what the point of this exercise was but McGonagall didn't continue.
"And what do all of these subjects have in common?" Eliza thought for a moment but didn't know the answer.
"I don't know, Professor."
"Think Black, think! What do all of your other subjects have in common?"
"Umm...They're all OWL's?"
"Exactly! You are taking Transfiguration at the NEWT level. What does NEWT stand for?"
"Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test," Rigel replied promptly.
"Exactly! You are already exhausted, so stop being so hard on yourself." McGonagall finished softly and Eliza nodded.
"I'll try, thanks, Professor McGonagall."
The teacher nodded. "And I suggest you open up with Miss Potter. She can and will help you."
Rigel nodded leaving the room feeling slightly better.
Two weeks later the four of us were heading to Hogsmeade. The morning of the Hogsmeade visit dawned bright but windy. After breakfast, they queued up in front of Filch, who matched their names to the long list of students who had permission from their parents or guardian to visit the village.
While Rige still thought it was a terrible idea. If they were caught, they'd be expelled. But he also couldn't help but admire Hermione's spunk.
Harry and Eliza had also managed to convince (By convincing Eliza pulled the puppy eyes and a pout that Rigel couldn't help but say yes) to help them teach the other members. He was proficient in DADA and he's already doing NEWT level transfiguration.
"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"
"Oh yes, I would love to have a butterbeer." Eliza moaned.
"Hog's Head," Hermione said proudly. "Students donat normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard.
Rigel groaned. "No offense, Hermione, but that means everyone who is there will hear everything we say. We would have been better off at the three broomsticks or the chamber -"
"NO!" Harry, Eliza, and Ron said at the same time
"I'll rather shout in front of Umbridge about this idea rather than to again step foot on The Chamber of Secrets " Ron shuddered.
"Oh come on you didn't even see the Basilisk." Rigel retorted. "And it's dead anyway, what's a big bad dead snake going to do?"
Once Rigel was inside the bar he noticed 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 the 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. The floor seemed at first glance to be earthy, though as he stepped onto it he realized that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.
" No wonder it's empty " Rigel muttered under his breath looking around the bar.
There was a man at the bar whose whole head was wrapped in dirty grey bandages, though he was still managing to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth(Rigel suspected it as firewhiskey). Two figures shrouded in hoods sat at a table in one of the windows; Anyone might have thought them dementors if they had not been talking in strong Yorkshire accents; in a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, black veil that fell to her toes. They could just see the tip of her nose because it caused the veil to protrude slightly.
"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. "Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?"
"Umbridge is shorter than that woman," Eliza said quietly.
"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."
"No," said Harry dryly, "especially as it's not exactly a homeworkgroup you're planning, is it?"
The barman sidled toward them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard. He was tall and thin with blue eyes. If it weren't for his scowl, Rigel would've mistaken the man as Dumbledore.
"What?" he grunted.
"Five butterbeer, please," said Hermione.
The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar. "ten Sickles," he said.
"I'll get them," Rigel said, passing over the silver.
The four retreated to the farthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around, while the man in the dirty grey bandages rapped the counter with his knuckles and received another smoking drink from the barman.
"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "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 —"
"Ronald Weasley don't you dare!" snarled Hermione.
"Alright alright!" Ron said raising his hands
Rigel wrenched open the rusty top of his butterbeer and took a swig enjoying it.
"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Eliza asked, wrenching open the rusty top of her butterbeer
"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checking her watch and then looking anxiously toward the door. "I told them to be hereabout 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 Cho and one of her usually giggling girlfriends, then (on her own and looking so dreamy that she might have walked in by accident) Luna Lovegood; then Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones. Then three Ravenclaws, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot; Ginny, followed by a tall skinny blond boy with an upturned nose whom Rigel recognized vaguely as being a chaser of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and bringing up the rear, Fred and George Weasley with their friend Lee Jordan, all three of whom were carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko's merchandise.
"How many people did you invite?" Eliza asked in bewilderment.
"Just a few," Hermione said weakly, looking shocked at the turnout.
"A few." Harry croaked.
The barman had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. Possibly he had never seen his pub so full.
"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly. "Could we have . . . twenty-five butterbeer, 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 butterbeer from under the bar
"Cheers," said Fred, handing them out. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these. . . ."
"Drinks are on me," Rigel said walking towards Fred and handing the barman two galleons. "Keep the change mate. Thank you all for coming."
The group collected their butterbeer and slowly trickled in to join. They took their seats around the back room, pushing over people and squeezing by so everyone could fit. Once the groaning and mumbling died down, Hermione stood nervously. Percy smiled at her reassuringly.
"Er," said 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 — I mean" — Harry had thrown her a sharp look — "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" — (Hermione's voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident) — "because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts" — "Hear, hear," said Goldstein and Hermione looked heartened — "well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands ".
She paused, looked sideways at the twins, 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?" said Michael Corner.
"Of course I do," said Hermione at 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 of Lord Voldemort's return."
The reaction was immediate and predictable. Cho's friend shrieked and slopped butterbeer down herself, Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough.
"Well . . . that's the plan anyway," 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?" said the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice.
"Well, Dumbledore believes it —" Hermione began.
Rigel internally signed.
"You mean, Dumbledore believes them," said the blond boy, nodding at Harry and Eliza.
"Who the hell are you?" Rigel asked glaring at the boy.
"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes them say You-Know-Who's back."
"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about —"
"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry as he and his sister stood up.
"What makes us say You-Know-Who's back?" Eliza asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him and so did Harry. Dumbledore told thewhole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him go to Madam Pomfrey and ask her about the state we were in. And what about Diggory? You think he just dropped dead." Eliza took a deep breath and Rigel squeezed her hand reassuringly, "And I was nearly raped, Smith." Eliza said. The room might as well have been hit with a silencing spell given the lack of noise coming from everyone else. Rigel could see they all looked uncomfortable, especially Neville Longbottom who looked very disturbed. "You want to know what that felt like, Zach?"
I...I don't..."
"Let me tell you what it felt like, it was scary," Eliza spoke up. "There it was me, Harry, Pettigrew, and Voldemort crucictaing the fuck out of me. Then he brought his death eater pals to...
"Eliza you don't have to-"
"No, I should Ron!" Eliza said sharply. "He tried to break my innocence. Nearly went for it but if it weren't for Harry." Eliza took a shaky breath. "I wanted him to end me just to stop the pain. Ask Madam Pomfrey, Smith, I dare you. Do you want to bet, Smith? Huh? Want to bet your vault, huh because I could use some money?" Eliza asked, raising an eyebrow.
Smith's face turned red but he didn't say anything, he instead sat down and stayed quiet.
"Even if you don't believe Harry or Eliza, you can all still understand the importance of learning how to properly defend yourselves," Rigel spoke up. "Exactly, even without death eaters, there are still hundreds of other threats that you need to know about like Boggarts, dark creatures, and cursed objects to name a few. Sure we have aurors but they won't be able to arrive instantly, plus if our generation doesn't learn then there will be fewer aurors in the future."
"So, what do you suggest?" One fourth-year Ravenclaw asked.
"Well, we need a teacher, someone to teach us how to defend ourselves," Ron spoke up.
"So Harry and Eliza will teach us?"
" Why not Rigel also? " Terry Boot asked before looking at the twins. " No offense. Just that Rigel's doing NEWT level transfiguration. So why not Rigel also?"
"I'll be helping a little bit," Rigel assured the Ravenclaw. "there are things I can teach but we're going to do some serious stuff. Not only defense but basic dueling, combative spells and a little bit of street fighting-"
Zacharias Smith let out another scoff. "Muggle combat? What good could muggle combat do to us?"
Rigel raised an eyebrow. "Shoot a spell at me"
Zacharias blinked "What?"
"Did I stutter Smith? Shoot a spell."
The Hufflepuff looked pretty smug before firing a variety of hexes at Rigel.
But Rigel was prepared. He wasn't idle for the past summers learning hand-to-hand combat with his father and along with basic dueling and with the Black family magic he had inherited. He was physically at peak level and his magic was growing when he grew up. he wither dodged or blocked the speels and just when he was a foot away from Smith. He grabbed him by the arm, flipped him down, and pinned him onto the ground.
"Does this answer your question?" Rigel said.
Zacharias rapidly nodded and Rigel released him.
"As I demonstrated, muggle combat is very important. What if you lose your wand during a confrontation? Then what? Are you just going to let yourself get attacked?" Rigel said. "There will be times where we will practice magic and times we will do physical training. You may know a thousand spells, but it doesn't mean that you're casting it well."
"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."
"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."
"Nor ours," added Zacharias Smith.
"Seriously even after you guys know the truth you still care about Quidditch. Honestly, you all should set your priorities first" Eliza scoffed " Voldemort is not gonna leave anyone just because they are great at Quidditch or something "
Said three rubbed their necks sheepishly.
"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan, "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," said 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."
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?" said Harry, completely thrown by this unexpected piece of information.
"He does?" Eliza blinked
"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?" Rigel asked.
"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, Rigel," said Hermione tartly.
"Oh yes they do!" said Luna angrily.
"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" snapped Hermione.
"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.
"Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet. . . ." said Hermione in a tense voice
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.
"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," said Hermione. "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 Harry noticed at once 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 will 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 this list was found . . . 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," Eliza 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, though Rigel saw Cho's friend give her a rather reproachful look before adding her name. 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, that is enough for today. We'll find a way to let you know when and where we will be practicing " Hermione said before sighing in relief.
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."
And in twos and threes, the rest of the group took off.
"Well, I think that went quite well," said Hermione happily, as she, Rigel, Eliza, Harry, and Ron walked out of the Hog's Head into the bright sunlight a few moments later. Harry and Ron were clutching their bottles of Butterbeer.
"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," said Ron.
"He's an arse," Eliza said. "Thank God Rigel put him in his place."
"I don't like him much, either," admitted Hermione, "but he overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah 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-"
And Ron gagged and sprayed butterbeer on Rigel.
"Dude, c'mon," Rigel grumbled cleaning the butterbeer.
"He's WHAT?" spluttered Ron, outraged, his ears now resembling curls of raw beef.
"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 got together at the end of last year," said Hermione composedly. They had turned into the High Street and she paused outside Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where there was a handsome display of pheasant feather quills in the window. "Hmm ... I could do with a new quill."
Hermione turned into the shop, and the four followed.
"Which one was Michael Corner?" Ron demanded furiously.
"The dark one," said Hermione.
"I didn't like him," said Ron at once.
"Big surprise," said Rigel.
"But," said Ron, following Hermione along a row of quills in copper pots, "I thought Ginny fancied Harry!"
Hermione looked at him rather quite pity and shook her head.
"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.
But Harry looked like he couldn't care less.
"So that's why she talks now?" he asked Hermione. "She never used to talk in front of me."
"Exactly," said Hermione. "Yes, I think I'll have this one ..."
Hermione handled over fifteen Sickles and two Knuts.
"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." Hermione said.
"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.
"And talking about that guy and Ginny ... what about Cho and you?" Eliza asked her brother, taking the last swig before throwing the bottle away.
"What d'you mean?" said Harry quickly.
"Well," said Hermione, smiling slightly at Eliza, knowingly, then back to Harry, "she just couldn't keep her eyes off you, could she?"