Harry's heart felt like it would burst out of his chest as anxiety swirled around the air. Everybody seemed to freeze when Umbridge's voice sounded from behind the other side of the wall. Harry looked to Merlin in distress but the wizard didn't look scared. He put a finger to his lips and gently but quickly guided the students around him to the back of the room. Confused, he followed the Professor's lead, heart in his throat as it shuddered once more.
"Quickly, Harry. Open the Portrait and get everyone to the other end of the tunnel," Merlin ordered, turning away to give them a few extra minutes before the wall would crumble.
"Come on, you heard him!" Ron whisper yelled, grabbing the frame of the picture with the founders and pulling. It opened to reveal a small tunnel, only able to fit one body at a time. Harry grabbed one of the chairs to be able to quickly reach, grabbing one of his peers and pushing them to go in first. After that people quickly piled in so as not to get caught.
"Harry, we've got to go!" Hermione said, yanking him to the painting once it was only the three of them left, Draco waiting at the entrance.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming," Harry whispered, breathless. Ron pulled the door closed just as Merlin's spell fell. He leaned against the canvas, hoping to hear that the Professor would be alright. His mind trying to push down the feeling of almost getting caught.
"Delores, welcome. I was just looking for a moment to myself and you come destroying Hogwart's property for no reason," sounding annoyed but friendly. Harry might have believed the man himself if he didn't know the truth.
"No...No reason! I have plenty of reasons!"
"Now Delores," Merlin tutted, mirth evident. It made Harry wince, surely he wasn't trying to provoke her, was he?
"Harry," Hermione whispered, trying to put Harry further into the tunnel. Reluctantly, Harry moved to follow, hearing Umbridge yell again and echo down into the tunnel.
"That was way too close," Hermione said, hopping out the other portrait hole and into a new room.
"Yeah," Harry absentmindedly agreed, taking in the space that Merlin had sent them to. It had no windows in the cramped area, too many students to be able to take much in. The door opened to an older witch with short hair that had long greyed, wrapped in a shaw and a floor-length nightgown. Harry was instantly on alert even though his mind said that Merlin would not take them from one dangerous situation to another one. Not unless he didn't know.
"Who are you?" Harry asked, finding his voice as others shuffled nervously, the younger being pushed behind the older teenagers.
"Cassandra, dear. Put the wands away, all of you. I am an old friend of the Professor's," Harry didn't put his wand away but he did lower it discreetly, the others following his lead.
"Which professor?" Hermione asked.
"Emrys, always getting into trouble that man," she answered fondly, shaking her head. "Come on, let's get out of this room." Harry shrugged before following the witch. He recognized the layout if not the furniture at Merlin's manor as they passed room after room, idly wondering how the tunnel got them halfway across Britain so quickly. They stopped at an old mahogany cabinet.
"The floo is being watched so you'll have to go by a vanishing cabinet back to Hogwarts. It will bring you to Emrys' office so be careful before you step out. In you go," she explained gesturing for a nervous Neville to enter the strange cabinet. Harry gave what he hoped to be a reassuring look to Neville when they made eye contact. He seemed to straighten himself and climbed into the wardrobe giving a small smile as Cassandra closed the doors. A strange whispering sounded from it and she opened it again, Neville nowhere in sight. Whispered conversation echoed as everyone looked at each other.
"Who's next?" Cassandra asked. Luna Lovegood raised her hand and made her way into it, mirroring Neville's posture and vanishing just as quickly. Soon everyone had gone through with only Harry left.
"Harry Potter," Cassandra stopped him before he could take his turn. "Don't believe everything you dream. Trust in your friends, Potter. You are never as alone as you think you are," Harry nodded mutely, not sure how to take her advice. He stood in the cabinet as she closed the door. The space was stifling similar to earlier but the addition of the darkness made it suffocating. The whispering started and the next thing Harry knew light poured into the crack, being yanked open, and Harry was quickly dragged out of the wardrobe and had his arms full of Hermione as she hugged him.
"Harry, your alright!" pulling away, her face solemn as she opened her mouth. "Professor Emrys isn't though, he forgot about the paper with all of our names on it. They think he's helping Dumbledore raise an army against the Ministry. It's awful, Harry, Umbridge has given everyone Veritaserum who was on that list," Hermione rambled, barely taking a breath between sentences.
"What?" Harry asked dumbly, adjusting to the onslaught of information. "Where are Ron and Draco?" Harry asked as he took in the room with only Hermione.
"Umbridge. Emrys spelled me invisible after speaking in my head, telling me to wait for you, but we've got to do something. They could send him to Azkaban, Harry, Dumbledore too!" Hermione added, already anticipating his next question. His head hurt. How could everything get out of control so quickly?
"Right," Harry started, head working for a plan. "Right, I got nothing, 'Mione," frustrated as he sat in one of the chairs in front of Merlin's desk. It still had half-graded papers and pictures of what looked like some of his friends. Merlin winked at him when Harry picked one up, watching him dance with a woman in what looked like a wedding dress. Harry didn't know what to do but he knew he couldn't let him go to prison because they were stupid enough to leave their names up for anyone to see, believing no one would find their secret place.
"Harry!" Hermione shouted as the door opened, Umbridge and Percy Weasley stopping in their tracks as they saw him, eyes skimming over Hermione.
"Well, Potter, come with us," Umbridge said, snatching his arm in a painful vice-like grip. Harry pulled and pulled but he was getting nowhere, having to stop lest he succeed and fall down the stairs that led to the headmaster's office. They reached the polished door with the griffin knocker, but Umbridge did not bother to knock, she strode straight inside, still holding tight to Harry.
The office was full of people. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face extremely tense. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was rocking backward and forward on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation. Kingsley Shacklebolt and a tough-looking wizard Harry did not recognize with very short, wiry hair was positioned on either side of the door like guards.
The freckled, bespectacled form of Percy Weasley who had moved from beside Umbridge to hover excitedly beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes. The portraits of old headmasters and mistresses were not shamming sleep tonight. All of them were watching what was happening below, alert and serious.
As Harry entered, a few flitted into neighboring frames and whispered urgently into their neighbors' ears. Cornelius Fudge was glaring at him with a kind of vicious satisfaction upon his face.
"Well," he said. "Well, well, well . . ." Harry replied with the dirtiest look he could muster. His heart drummed madly inside him, but his brain was oddly cool and clear.
"Found him hiding in Myriddian's office, Minister," Umbridge reported, finally letting him go roughly, Harry stumbling in order to stay upright.
"Was he?" Fudge replied, beady eyes excited as he cast a glance between Emrys and Harry. Harry glanced too, finding the Professor with a blank expression clashing with the vibrancy of his blood-red robe. "Well, Potter...I expect you know why you're here?" Harry was prepared to respond with a defiant yes as he continued to stare at Merlin, his eyes holding something that made Harry pause, changing his response.
"No."
Fudge looked incredulously from Harry to Professor Umbridge, "So you have no idea," said Fudge in a voice positively sagging with sarcasm, "why Professor Umbridge has brought you to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?"
"School rules?" said Harry. "No."
"Or Ministry decrees?" amended Fudge angrily.
"Not that I'm aware of," said Harry blandly. His heart was still hammering very fast. It was almost worth telling these lies to watch Fudge's blood pressure rising, but he could not see how on earth he would get away with them. If somebody had tipped off Umbridge about the D.A. then he, the leader, might as well be packing his trunk right now.
"So it's news to you, is it," said Fudge, his voice now thick with anger, "that an illegal student organization has been discovered within this school?"
"Yes, it is," said Harry, hoisting an unconvincing look of innocent surprise onto his face.
"I think, Minister," said Umbridge silkily from beside him, "we might make better progress if I fetch our informant." Harry's heart rate jumped, but he was careful not to let anything show on his face. Who could have talked? Hermione had cast a jinx onto the paper with their names, no one would have talked willingly. Umbridge left and returned a few minutes leading a girl by her shoulder, Cho's curly-haired friend Marietta, who was hiding her face in her hands.
"Don't be scared, dear, don't be frightened," said Professor Umbridge softly, patting her on the back, "it's quite all right, now. You have done the right thing. The minister is very pleased with you. He'll be telling your mother what a good girl you've been. Marietta's mother, Minister," she added, looking up at Fudge, "is Madam Edgecombe from the Department of Magical Transportation. Floo Network office — she's been helping us police the Hogwarts fires, you know."
"Jolly good, jolly good!" said Fudge heartily. "Like mother, like daughter, eh? Well, come on, now, dear, look up, don't be shy, let's hear what you've got to — galloping gargoyles!" As Marietta raised her head, Fudge leapt backward in shock, nearly landing himself in the fire. He cursed and stamped on the hem of his cloak, which had started to smoke, and Marietta gave a wail and pulled the neck of her robes right up to her eyes, but not before the whole room had seen that her face was horribly disfigured. A series of close-set purple pustules that had spread across her nose and cheeks to form the word "SNEAK."
Guess that answers my question, Harry thought.
"Never mind the spots now, dear," said Umbridge impatiently, "just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the Minister —" But Marietta gave another muffled wail and shook her head frantically.
"Oh, very well, you silly girl, I'll tell him," snapped Umbridge. She hitched her sickly smile back onto her face and said, "Well, Minister, Miss Edgecombe here came to my office shortly after dinner this evening and told me she had something she wanted to tell me. She said that if I proceeded to a secret room on the seventh floor, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement, I would find out something to my advantage. I questioned her a little further and she admitted that there was to be some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately at that point this hex," she waved impatiently at Marietta's concealed face, "came into operation, and upon catching sight of her face in my mirror the girl became too distressed to tell me any more."
"Well, now," said Fudge, fixing Marietta with what he evidently imagined was a kind and fatherly look.
"It is very brave of you, my dear, coming to tell Professor Umbridge, you did exactly the right thing. Now, will you tell me what happened at this meeting? What was its purpose? Who was there?" But Marietta would not speak. She merely shook her head again, her eyes wide and fearful.
"Haven't we got a counterjinx for this?" Fudge asked Umbridge impatiently, gesturing at Marietta's face. "So she can speak freely?"
"I have not yet managed to find one," Umbridge admitted grudgingly, and Harry felt a surge of pride in Hermione's jinxing ability.
"Miss Edgecombe," said Umbridge at once, "tell us how long these meetings have been going on, dear. You can simply nod or shake your head, I'm sure that won't make the spots worse. Have they been happening regularly over the last six months?" Harry felt a horrible plummeting in his stomach. This was it, they had hit a dead-end of solid evidence that not even Dumbledore would be able to shift aside... "Just nod or shake your head, dear," Umbridge said coaxingly to Marietta. "Come on, now, that won't activate the jinx further..."
Everyone in the room was gazing at the top of Marietta's face. Only her eyes were visible between the pulled up robes and her curly fringe. Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight, but her eyes looked oddly blank. And then — to Harry's utter amazement — Marietta shook her head. Umbridge looked quickly at Fudge and then back at Marietta.
"I don't think you understood the question, did you, dear? I'm asking whether you've been going to these meetings for the past six months? You have, haven't you?" Again, Marietta shook her head. "What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?" said Umbridge in a testy voice.
"I would have thought her meaning was quite clear," said Professor McGonagall harshly. "There have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is that correct, Miss Edgecombe?" Marietta nodded.
"But there was a meeting tonight!" said Umbridge furiously. "There was a meeting, Miss Edgecombe, you told me about it, in the Room of Requirement! And Potter was the leader, was he not, Potter organized it, Potter — why are you shaking your head, girl?"
"Well, usually when a person shakes their head," said McGonagall coldly, "they mean 'no.' So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign language as yet unknown to humans —"
Professor Umbridge seized Marietta, pulled her around to face her, and began shaking her very hard. A split second later Dumbledore was on his feet, his wand raised. Kingsley started forward and Umbridge leapt back from Marietta, waving her hands in the air as though they had been burned.
"I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores," said Dumbledore, and for the first time, he looked angry.
"You want to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge," said Kingsley in his deep, slow voice. "You don't want to get yourself into trouble now."
"No," said Umbridge breathlessly, glancing up at the towering figure of Kingsley. "I mean, yes — you're right, Shacklebolt — I — I forgot myself."
"Dolores," said Fudge, with the air of trying to settle something once and for all, "the meeting tonight — the one we know definitely happened —"
"Yes," said Umbridge, pulling herself together,
"yes . . . well, Miss Edgecombe tipped me off and I proceeded at once to the seventh floor, accompanied by certain trustworthy students, so as to catch those in the meeting red-handed. It appears that they were forewarned of my arrival, however, because when we reached the seventh floor they were nowhere to be found. It does not matter, however. I have all their names here, Miss Parkinson ran into the Room of Requirement with me and we found Professor Emrys. We needed evidence and the room provided . . ." And to Harry's horror, she withdrew from her pocket the list of names that had been pinned upon the Room of Requirement's wall and handed it to Fudge. "The moment I saw Potter's name on the list, I knew what we were dealing with," she said softly.
"Excellent," said Fudge, a smile spreading across his face. "Excellent, Dolores. And...by thunder..." He looked up at Dumbledore, who was still standing beside Marietta, his wand held loosely in his hand. "See what they've named themselves?" said Fudge quietly. "Dumbledore's Army."
Dumbledore reached out and took the piece of parchment from Fudge. He gazed at the heading scribbled by Hermione months before and for a moment seemed unable to speak. Then he looked up, smiling.
"Well, the game is up," he said simply. "Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius — or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?" Harry saw McGonagall and Kingsley look at each other. There was fear in both faces. He did not understand what was going on, and neither, apparently, did Fudge.
"Statement?" said Fudge slowly. "What — I don't — ?"
"Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, still smiling as he waved the list of names before Fudge's face. "Not Potter's Army, not Emrys' Army. Dumbledore's Army."
"But — but —" Understanding blazed suddenly in Fudge's face. He took a horrified step backward, yelped, and jumped out of the fire again.
"You!" he whispered, stamping again on his smoldering cloak.
"That's right," said Dumbledore pleasantly.
"You organized this?"
"I did," said Dumbledore.
"You recruited these students for — for your army?"
"Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting," said Dumbledore, nodding. "Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe, of course." Marietta nodded. Fudge looked from her to Dumbledore, his chest swelling.
"Then you have been plotting against me!" he yelled.
"That's right," said Dumbledore cheerfully.
"NO!" shouted Harry.
Kingsley flashed a look of warning at him, McGonagall widened her eyes threateningly, but it had suddenly dawned upon Harry what Dumbledore was about to do, and he could not let it happen. "No — Professor Dum--" getting silenced by Merlin, who caught his eye as the gold faded from the wizard's. Harry glared at Merlin, eyes watering as he turned back into the conversation.
"Well, well, well — I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter and instead —"
"Instead you get to arrest me," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It's like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn't it?"
"Weasley!" cried Fudge, now positively quivering with delight, "Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he's said, his confession, have you got it?"
"Yes, sir, I think so, sir!" said Percy eagerly, whose nose was splattered with ink from the speed of his note-taking.
"The bit about how he's been trying to build up an army against the Ministry, how he's been working to destabilize me?"
"Yes, sir, I've got it, yes!" said Percy, scanning his notes joyfully.
"Very well, then," said Fudge, now radiant with glee.
"Duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the Daily Prophet at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!" Percy dashed from the room, slamming the door behind him, and Fudge turned back to Dumbledore.
"You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and then sent to Azkaban to await trial!"
"Ah," said Dumbledore gently, "yes. Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag."
"Snag?" said Fudge, his voice still vibrating with joy.
"I see no snag, Dumbledore!"
"Well," said Dumbledore apologetically, "I'm afraid I do."
"Oh really?"
"Well — it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to — what is the phrase? 'Come quietly' I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course — but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing."
Everything seemed to freeze, and it took Harry an embarrassing amount of time to realize why.
"Harry, I must go. I am terribly sorry for ignoring you. I thought to distance myself from you would keep you safer, but I am an old man and make mistakes," Dumbeldore says, eyes finding Merlin's towards the end. Merlin nods back and lets Dumbeldore disappear and knocking everyone on the floor who is frozen.
"Harry, you must pretend nothing happened, Albus disappeared and you have no idea how. Got it?" Emrys asks and Harry absently nods his head, staring at the space his Headmaster vanished, nevermind the anti-apparation wards to prevent such a thing.
"Where is he?" yelled Fudge, pushing himself up from the ground. "Where is he?"
"I don't know!" shouted Kingsley, also leaping to his feet.
"Well, he can't have Disapparated!" cried Umbridge. "You can't inside this school —"
"The stairs!" cried Dawlish, and he flung himself upon the door, wrenched it open, and disappeared, followed closely by Kingsley and Umbridge. Fudge hesitated, then got to his feet slowly, brushing dust from his front. There was a long and painful silence.
"Well, Minerva," said Fudge nastily, straightening his torn shirtsleeve, "I'm afraid this is the end of your friend Dumbledore."
"You think so, do you?" said Professor McGonagall scornfully. Fudge seemed not to hear her. A few of the portraits hissed at him; one or two even made rude hand gestures.
"You'd better get those two off to bed," said Fudge, looking back at Professor McGonagall with a dismissive nod toward Harry and Marietta. She said nothing but marched Harry and Marietta to the door. As it swung closed behind them, Harry heard Phineas Nigellus's voice.
"You know, Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts...but you cannot deny he's got style...."