𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 - 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

14. | Hogsmeade

Sorry! I totally disappeared again. I wanted to let you all know that I think I'm going to take a brief hiatus from uploading. School is really busy right now, and I'm going to take a month hiatus to work on writing some chapters so that I'll hopefully be able to post consistently again.

I will be uploading once again Friday, March 17th. See you all then!

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

"This is mad. Who'd wanna be taught by me?" Harry asks as he, myself, Ron, and Hermione make the walk through the crunchy leaves coating the Hogsmeade cobblestone walkway. His voice hitches with each word, anxiety plaguing every sentence. "I'm a nutter, remember?"

"Harry, a week ago you were so excited you couldn't breathe," I point out.

"Well, I've had a lot of time to think since then," he mumbles.

"Look on the bright side: You can't be any worse than old toad face," Ron says.

"Thanks, Ron." Harry smiles despite himself.

"I'm here for you, mate." Ron pats Harry on the back. The road abruptly ends, spitting us out at a cottage that appears to hardly have the strength to stand on its own. I suck in some of the crisp autumn air through my teeth. Even the fall foliage could do nothing to save this rotten place.

"Who's supposed to be meeting us, then?" Harry asks.

"Just a couple people," Hermione responds, pushing open the creaking door to the cabin. "And whomever Jaylene invited along."

"Just a few," I whisper as my eyes scan the cabin. There are very few people, aside from the irritated bartender, but those who are present give us questionable looks. I inch closer to Harry. Definitely not a place I'd want to be alone in.

"Lovely spot," Ron mutters.

"Thought it would be safer off the beaten track," Hermione whispers as we slide past the boggle-eyed wizards nursing something far stronger than butterbeer. We make our way to the back of the cabin, where a class-sized group of witches and wizards await us. They sit gathered around various tables. I smile when I see Franchesca, Stephen, and Connor. My excitement fades when I see the discomfort on Connor's face, and I quickly realize why. Him and I are the only two Slytherin's present at this function, and the stolen glances our way make it clear that we are not the only two aware of that fact.

"It's a Slytherin," someone whispers as I make my way up to sit by my brother. I nip my bottom lip, restraining myself from flinging an insult that would certainly not make my popularity increase by any means of the word.

Hermione stands up once everyone has gotten settled. "Hi," she says, "So you all know why we're here-"

"We know why we are here, but what're these Slytherins doing here?" Someone shouts. My eyes find Connors. He stands still as stone, even with Stephen fussing over him, but I can tell the difference. The slight change in posture one can only notice after spending years observing them. He's angry.

"She's not as horrible as them," Hermione says, her hand quickly waving to me.

"Then why is she always with Draco?" Someone else calls. Harry turns to me, his eyes ablaze with an anger I never thought possible on my brother. I swallow the lump building in my throat, and go to stand. I shouldn't be here.

"Listen up!" Franchesca shouts, jumping from her seat. Her voice is sharp and loud, surprising everyone coming from such a small person. But I know Franchesca. And I know that girl's got fire behind her. "If you have a problem with Jaylene, then you've got a problem with Harry himself! This is Jaylene motherfucking Potter and if I hear any of you nonces being a dick to her, you will be facing my wand. Jaylene, sit your ass back down. You have as much right to be here as the rest of these fools do.

The room gets very, very quiet. I slowly lower my bum back into my chair, mouthing my dearest friend a soft thank you. A soft snivel brings my attention to a little first-year boy, and I know immediately this day will always be remembered as the day Franchesca made children cry.

"Right..." Hermione clears her throat, her focus still trained on Franchesca. "Back... to what I was saying. We need a teacher. A proper teacher. One who's had experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts," Hermione explains.

"Why?" Someone asks.

"Why? Because You-Know-Who's back, you tosspot." Ron looks at him like he's an idiot. I press my head into my hands, a low groan escaping me. There is literally going to be a full-on brawl in the back of Hog's Head if this shit keeps up.

"So he says," the boy says again, making an obscene gesture to my brother who has not lost the pissed look on his face.

"So Dumbledore says," Hermione insists, strong and firm.

"So Dumbledore says because he says," the boy calls out.

I am never, ever having children.

"The point is, where's the proof? If Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed-"

"I'm not gonna talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're here, clear out now," Harry interrupts. He rises to his feet and scans the room before turning to Hermione. "Come on, Hermione. They're here because they think I'm some freak."

"Is it true you can produce a Patronus Charm?" Stephen asks, a tiny smile lighting his face.

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

"Blimey, Harry. I didn't know you could do that," someone exclaims.

"And he killed a basilisk," Neville says.

I let out a laugh, rushing to my brother's side. "He did! With the sword in Dumbledore's office!" I say. Neville shoots me a smile.

"It's true," Ginny adds.

"Third year, he fought off about a hundred Dementors at once," Ron says.

"When my brother says Voldemort is back, he's not lying." I look around, my eyes catching skittish first years and confused sixth years alike. "Last year, he really did fight off Voldemort in the flesh."

"Wait," Harry exclaims, "Look, 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. I nearly always had help."

"He's just being modest," Hermione and I say at the same time.

"No, I'm not," Harry says. He pauses, taking the time to look each of us in the eye. "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 watching a friend die right before your eyes... you don't know what that's like." He sighs and shakes his head, lowering himself back down into his chair. The air becomes suddenly stiff, and across the room, my table of friends all give me a look.

"You're right Harry, we don't." Hermione rubs his shoulder gently. "That's why we need your help, if we're going to have any chance at beating...Voldemort." It was obviously hard for her to say his name.

"He's really back?" A young boy asks. I grimly nod.

With a little more discussion, Hermione brings a parchment forward to the group. Dumbledore's Army is scribbled across the top in the flowing script I've grown accustomed to from her. "I – I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think 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," she explains as she sets the parchment down along with a quill and ink. Everyone nods and begins to line up, taking turns scrawling their names on the paper.

Jaylene L. Potter, I write in swooping letters.

"I jinxed it," I hear Hermione whisper to Harry.

I grin.