Moonlight » Harry Potter

Ten

The first weekend in October was a Hogsmeade weekend, and I was anxious to finally get out of the castle and venture around with friends for once. Harry had agreed, in spite of the fit he put up originally, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts to anyone who was interested. Hermione had taken it upon herself to arrange a meeting in Hogsmeade for whoever wanted to join.

The weather, as expected, had gotten colder, but it hadn't rained in a bit and didn't seem like it was going to now. It was rather windy, though, and as we left the castle, I threw a beanie on to shield my head and hair from the wind.

"Where are we meeting?" Harry asked Hermione. "The Three Broomsticks?"

"God, no," Hermione answered. "I've found a different pub called the Hog's Head. It's far less crowded and less people will overhear."

"That sounds like a sketchy place," Ron said.

"Hog's head," I mused. "It kind of does."

The Hog's Head was further away from the castle than The Three Broomsticks, and we were all breathless and shivering by the time we reached it. The heat hit us as soon as we opened the door. What a relief that was. I should've brought a scarf.

The Hog's Head really was a sketchy place; it looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years, decades, even, and gave off the vibe of a place you would go to buy or sell something illegal. The people were a bit dodgy too; clothed in large cloaks with even larger hoods; sporting jackets with collars that covered half of their faces and hats that obscured the other half.

This place reminds me a little bit of my house, I thought with a shiver. Freaky people drinking alcohol. Why did Hermione have to pick such a place?

"Hermione, I don't know about this place-" Harry said, looking around, and though I nodded my agreement, I doubted anyone noticed.

"It's fine, Harry. Students are allowed, I've already checked with Professor Flitwick. It just wouldn't be a good idea to go parading what we're doing here."

"No doubt," Ron muttered as we passed a tall, muscular man standing up noisily, the mysterious drink in his glass sloshing over the edge.

"Now, all we have to do is wait," Hermione said with a sigh, watching the door. "There'll only be a few people. It should be any minute—oh, that might be them now."

The door to the pub opened, and a large group of students walked in. I hadn't the faintest idea who most of them were, but Ginny Weasley, Fred and George Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson were among the ones I did know. I also recognized Cho Chang; she was dating Cedric Diggory last year.

"A few people?!" Harry murmured to Hermione. "A few?!"

"It was a very popular idea," Hermione whispered back with a shrug. She then shot a bright smile to the audience that now stood in front of us all. And then she looked to Harry.

"Er...hello, everyone," Harry said. "You all know why you're here..."

"We had the idea to er..." Hermione's voice was slightly higher than usual in her nervousness. "Well, we thought it would be a good idea if Harry taught you all, er, Defense Against the Dark Arts because Umbridge is, let's not kid ourselves—" her voice was more confident now— "a totally incompetent teacher, and we aren't very well going to pass our OWLs or have any sort of real experience by the end of this year learning from her."

Everyone was listening intently, their eyes shifting between Harry and Hermione.

"Is it true You-Know-Who is back?" Someone asked, and Harry's eyes scanned the group, but the speaker showed no sign of himself—the voice was masculine—and Harry shrugged.

"Yes," he told them. "It's true."

"How do you know?" This time, we caught sight of a blond boy standing in the back, hands folded across his chest. "For sure?"

"Er, that's not really what this meeting-" Hermione started nervously, but Harry held up a hand.

"It's alright, Hermione." He turned to the crowd. "Dumbledore told you that he's back, and I saw him, so I know he's back. If you've come to hear all about what it's like to watch Voldemort murder someone, if you don't believe that I saw it happen, then you may as well clear out now."

All of us watched the audience, but no one moved.

The blond boy spoke again. "All Dumbledore told us was that Cedric Diggory-"

"I'm not going to talk about Cedric Diggory," Harry interrupted, his temper rising.

"Alright," Hermione said. "So we're all clear that the only reason any of us are here today is to discuss actually learning defense against the dark arts?"

The blond boy closed his mouth; he had opened it to speak but Hermione had interrupted. Now he stood back, arms once again folded against his chest.

"Good," Hermione said, looking at Harry. "Now, we can meet once a week, does that sound alright? It will have to be on a day that doesn't interfere with Quidditch practices, so we'll talk about that," she said, looking at and silencing Angelina Johnson, who had raised a finger and began talking about Quidditch.

"The other thing we'll have to find is a place," she continued.

"The library?" Someone suggested. "An unused classroom?"

"I don't think we could use either of those," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "We'll send a message around to you all when we've figured something out. Meanwhile..." from the pocket of her coat, she produced a sheet of parchment. "I think we should all sign this so we know who was here. And," she added, "to agree not to tell Umbridge."

People looked around skeptically, but everyone signed, and little by little, left the pub. I caught Cho Chang looking at Harry as she made her way to the door, and something tingled inside me. Anger? Confusion? Anxiety? Whatever it was, it wasn't a pleasant emotion.

"Well, that didn't go bad," Ron said as we left the pub, the sting of the cold air biting me as soon as the door swung closed behind us. "I think they're into it."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Harry said. He looked down at me. "Cold?"

I shrugged. "A bit. I should've brought a scarf," I said with a laugh.

"Here, you can have mine," Harry said, unraveling the scarf from his own neck and holding it out for me. "I'm not that cold."

I held up my hands. "That's alright, Harry. You keep it."

"I'm really not cold," he insisted, draping it over across my neck. "You need it more."

I felt Ron and Hermione's eyes on us awkwardly, and wanting to terminate that, smiled warmly at Harry and wrapped the scarf around my neck. It smelled of peppermint and wood, just as he had when I flew with him, and the body heat it had taken on immediately warmed me a bit. "Thanks."

"Yeah."

As I walked through the village with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, the scent radiating from Harry's scarf filling my nostrils, I wondered if I was wrong to feel that....anger about Cho looking at Harry. She probably had a crush on him or something. It didn't mean anything. A lot of people probably had a crush on him.

And then I wondered if maybe I was one of them.