☤ Pseudonym ☤

~Chapter Seventeen~

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 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 her team at lunch to tell us that Quidditch practice was cancelled.

"Good," said Harry quietly, when she told us, "because we've found somewhere to have our first Defence meeting. Tonight, eight o'clock, seventh floor opposite that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by those trolls. Can you tell Katie and Alicia?" he asked Angelina.

I glanced at Harry, this was news to me.

Angelina looked slightly taken aback but she promised to tell the others. When she left I turned to the trio.

"So what is this secret meeting place?" I asked them.

"Don't think we can discuss it hear," Harry responded, "We'll show you tonight."

I nodded and looked down at my sausages and mash. When I looked up I found Hermione watching Harry and biting her lip anxiously.

"What?" he said thickly.

"Well ... it's just that Dobby's plans aren't always that safe. Don't you remember when he lost you all the bones in your arm?" Harry grimaced in response but didn't look perturbed.

"This room isn't just some mad idea of Dobby's; Dumbledore knows about it, too, he mentioned it to me at the Yule Ball."

Hermione's expression cleared.

"Dumbledore told you about it?"

This made me even more curious about it.

"Just in passing," said Harry, shrugging.

"Oh, well, that's all right then," said Hermione briskly and raised no more objections.

Together with Dean we spent most of the day seeking out those people who had signed their names to the list in the Hog's Head and telling them where to meet that evening. By the end of dinner he was confident that the news had been passed to every one of the twenty-five people who had turned up in the Hog's Head.

At half past seven Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean and I left the Gryffindor common room, Harry clutching a certain piece of aged parchment in his hand. Fifth-years were allowed to be out in the corridors until nine o'clock, but all of us kept looking around nervously as we made our way along the seventh floor.

Somehow we didn't think that Umbridge would just let us walk in peace.

"Hold it," Harry warned, unfolding the piece of parchment at the top of the last staircase, tapping it with his wand and muttering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

A map of Hogwarts appeared on the blank surface of the parchment. Tiny black moving dots, labelled with names, showed where various people were.

"Filch is on the second floor,"said Harry, holding the map close to his eyes, "and Mrs. Norris is on the fourth."

"And Umbridge?" I asked.

"In her office," said Harry, pointing to a pair of black footprints labelled with her name.

"Okay, let's go." I said.

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