-Chapter 12-

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(Also quick trigger warning as we cover Clara's detentions which involves the quill that cuts words into her. Just to be safe xx)

Hermione led us to the questionable and rather run down place where the meeting for Dumbledore's Army would take place. We had gotten there early and sat around waiting nervously for anyone to show up until finally, a few people came. And then a few more, until finally, we squished in thirty or so students. We sit and watch as Hermione explains why we are here, and what the Army plans to do.

After being bombarded with questions regarding Cedric Diggory, Harry stands up. He is red faced, and looks slightly sheepish, though he seems more angry than embarrassed. He says something to Hermione about leaving, when a light, clear voice rings out from the back of the room.

"Is it true you can produce a Patronus charm?" Luna asks,

Harry stops, turning to face the front again.

"Yes." Hermione answers, "I've seen it."

I gasp, "You didn't tell you can do that?!" That's impressive, even for his standards. I can't help feel a twinge of jealousy, though. I love my brother dearly, and nothing could come between us, but sometimes I wish people would look at me. It's always about him. That's why you're putting up with Umbridge, I think to myself, to prove yourself.

"An-And he killed a basilisk, with the sword in Dumbledores office!" Neville says, nodding,

"It's true!" Says Ginny, looking around at the rest of the group,

"In third year he fought about a hundred dementors at once," Ron adds,

"And last year he really did fight off Voldemort in the flesh." I say, turning to face the rest of the group.

"Alright!" Harry interrupts, glancing around at us, "It all sounds great when you say it like that but the truth is most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time and I nearly always had help."

"He's just being modest-"

"No, Hermione, I'm not. Facing this stuff in real life is not like school. In school, if you make a mistake you can just try again tomorrow, but out there, when you're a second away from being murdered, or seeing a friend die right before your eyes... You don't know what that's like."

"You're right Harry, we don't. That's why we need your help. If we're going to have any chance at defeating Voldemort-" I start,

"He's really back?" A boy asks. He's young and sits at the front of the group. He looks slightly scared.

We nod.

xxx

Almost everyone there yesterday put their name down. We were disbanded and asked to start searching for a place to hold the classes, out of sight but practical. I think Hermione might be asking a bit much.

I walk nervously, hands balled into fists, down the corridor leading to Umbridge's office. I walk through the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and up the staircase, hesitating just before I reach the door. My heart beats painfully fast, and my stomach twists as I raise my hands and knock. The door swings open to reveal a pair of eyes almost as familiar to me as my own-

Draco Malfoy's.

I stand in shock for a moment, before gulping, trying to for a plan. If Umbridge finds out Draco and I are friends, he will probably lose his place in the Inquisitorial Squad. I pull a face,

"What are YOU doing here?" I raise an eyebrow, glaring. He looks at me as if I'm insane. I give him a look. Play. Along. He nods slightly, turning his normal face to a sneer,

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