The Girl Who Lived

Dumbledore's Army

February 12th, 1996

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A month into classes and believe me when I say, I hate classwork. It was a pain in the ass and I spent hours trying to even understand potions. It was my own personal hell. The only things that made it bearable was Fred, Harry, Ron and Hermione, not to mention Dumbledore's Army. It was comforting- good and baring light.

Before we left for the holidays and after Professor Umbridge decided to scar both Harry and I for letting our fellow friends and classmates know that Voldemort was back, Harry and I thought it would be a good idea to start an army, just like the Order of Phoenix.

We were the new generation, our parents' offspring who would defeat the darkness looming over our heads.

In the Room of Requirement, many of us trained and helped to train other people. Harry and I taught our friends how to Stun people, how to disarm, how to produce a Patronus.

Harry's was a stag, like his father's. Mine was a lioness, like my mother's.

It was comforting to know how much I was like her. I truly did resemble her when she was my age. There was a picture hung up in the Room of Requirement of the Order of Phoenix.

The Marauders, The Longbottoms, Dumbledore, everyone.

Nestled with Lily, James, Sirius, Remus and the lying cowardly rat bastard, were my smiling parents. Radiant.

"Day-dreaming once again, Miss. Clairmont?"

My attention snapped back to the dull classroom with Professor Umbridge, toad-like face and all, watching me intently from her chair in the front. I clamped my mouth shut, swallowing any retorts rising from my mind. I looked around subtly and sure enough, everyone in the gods-damn classroom was glancing towards me.

Near the back like usual, Malfoy was sitting back in his chair, the stupidly blank expression flooding his features. For a breath, I studied his face. Paler than usual, wet lips, cold stare with his upturned nose. With his slightly crooked nose. I bit my lip to keep a taunting giggle inside. He noticed my gazing and narrowed his eyes.

"Cunt." He mouthed, lip twitching.

I didn't bother to even shake my head or scoff as I turned back to Professor Umbridge, fighting the urge to spit at her.

"My apologies, Professor. I simply saw all the pink you chose to wear today and my mind drifted to other things that are pink, and from there, I started to just imagine so many more colorful things-" I rambled, watching Umbridge's nostrils flare and her cheeks grow peachy.

My eyes flickered to Harry who was hiding a grin underneath his hand and Ron who was nodding me on. Hermione sat in pure shock but I could have sworn that there was a glimmer of amusement and approval in her brown eyes.

"That's enough, Miss. Langston. Continue with your work." The Professor turned around and went to move towards her chair but I was not finished. I had barely started and the more detention I could receive, the more I had the right to treat her like an animal. Her pureblood fantasies and her torture methods were nothing less than barbaric.

I sighed loudly, tossing my quill onto my half finished parchment, sifting through the contents on my small bookbag next to my desk. I could feel her watching me as I pulled out a book, Magical Defenses for Dark Arts. A small noise came from her, something irritated.

She was losing her patience, she was beginning to sweat.

"What," She stepped towards my table where I sat next to Harry. He gently kicked my leg in encouragement and an innocent look slipped onto my face. "Do you think you are doing?"