XXVII.   who's afraid of little old me?

Umbridge had been inspecting classes all week long, and Devore wasn't the only person who felt like strangling the woman. Admittedly, it was funny watching her troll Snape in potions, half because she knew how badly he'd been wanting the DADA position and Umbridge was practically rubbing it in his face. But other professors, such as McGonagall, did not find her inspections entertaining or valuable. McGonagall could hold her on, everybody knew that, so it was badass to see her lose her temper with Umbridge.

Devore walked alongside everybody to Care of Magical Creatures where Umbridge had been waiting with her clipboard beside Professor Grubbly-Plank. She latched on to Ron's arm and leaned against him. "Be honest with me, Ronnie, who would be able to prove it was me if so simply chopped her up and tossed her into the Forbidden Forest?"

Ron half looked at her like she was crazy, the other half like he as contemplating it himself. "Considering it's you who's been going around saying you'd go to Azkaban for killing her, I think you'd be the first suspect. . ." He leaned closer to her also. "But between us, if it comes down to it, I'll bring the gloves."

Devore giggled.

"You do not usually take this class, is that correct?" Umbridge asked the professor.

"Quite correct," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, hands behind her back and bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid."

That's when Devore saw Draco standing with Crabbe and Goyle, whispering things to them. She'd always resent him for what he did to Hagrid, acting like a spoiled brat.

Umbridge went around asking the students about the magical creatures, quizzing them, which most of them answered well. Devore's body stiffened, desperately praying that she wouldn't speak to her.

She asked Professor Grubbly-Plank more questions regarding her teachings, her answers impressing her. "Well, you seem to know what you're doing, at any rate," she commented, taking a stab at Hagrid, making a tick on the clipboard. She moved along to Goyle: "Now, I hear there's been injuries in this class?"

Devore rolled her eyes painfully hard.

Goyle gave a stupid grin. Draco wasted no time answering the question. "That was me," he answered hastily. "I was slashed by a hippogriff."

"A hippogriff?" Said Professor Umbridge, now scribbling frantically.

Devore couldn't hold her tongue any longer. "Oh, please. It was barely a scratch. He's alive, isn't he?" She blurted out insensitively, startling most of the people around her.

Hermione slapped her forehead while Ron closed his eyes tightly, knowing it was coming.

Umbridge looked her way and held the clipboard to her chest. Draco casted her a glare. "That ogre should've been fired for nearly contributing to my death!" He called out dramatically.

"Oh bite me, you insufferable brat." She spat at him again, her face bright red.

There was a round of gasps and Ron tried to hold back his laughter with his hand, the same as Dean. There was a ticking sound as Umbridge clocked her tongue, and she slowly walked up to her. "Miss Taylor," her voice stabbed her ears.

"Oh no. Oh no." Hermione said to herself and prayed.

"These outbursts of your are becoming quite treacherous."

"So what? Ever heard of freedom of speech?"

"Devore!" Said Hermione incredulously.

"I believe another detention might set you straight, don't you think?" Umbridge asked her with the slugger of smirks, only for her to see.

"Why, because she's telling the truth? That Malfoy was too stupid to listen to Hagrid's instructions." Harry stepped in, defending her.

On cue, Ron and Hermione groaned.

"Make that two detentions, I guess." Umbridge said softly. "Quite the pair you two are becoming, I say."

Hermione searched the castle for Morgan and Olivia, Devore's newly added detention fresh on her mind. She knew what was going to happen and it scared her, so she needed to prepare them for it. She found them in the library working on their homework for Charms and Transfiguration. "Morgan, Liv!" She called their names.

"Hey, Mione. How was your class?" Olivia asked kindly.

Hermione sat down quickly. "It was. . . horribly actually. Devore and Harry got another detention." She told them.

"What?" Morgan gasped and dropped her quill.

"Again? Merlin, what for?"

"It's Devore. What do you think?" Hermione's voice increased. "My point is, Umbridge is going to hurt her again."

"If she does, I'll kill her." Said Morgan spitefully.

"I might know another way!"

"Well then goodness, Granger, tell us!" Olivia declared and scooted her work away from her to fully listen.

Hermione looked around them to make sure nobody was around and listening. "Okay, listen to me. . ."

Devore felt lifeless staring at her newly scarred up hand, the words I shall not insult my classmates carved into her skin like a terrible memory. The bleeding was worse this time as Umbridge made her continue to write lines longer than Harry, and it still wouldn't stop. She sat on the floor in the Gryffindor common room, in front of the fire, her friends surrounding her, and her face was wet with tears. Hermione crouched in front of her tending to the wound, her complete silence terrifying her.

She had Harry soaking his hand into a bowl of solution of strained murtlap tentacles. It had been silent for a good while, Devore's sniffles being the only sound. It hurt them all because she rarely ever cried, but they were tears of pain.

Fred sat in the corner chair, shaking with anger as he watched her cry. "This is completely bullshit." He blurted out.

"Fred, please." Said Hermione and she threw him a glance.

"No, Mione, he's right." Said Ron, his voice low. "I still reckon you two should complain about this."

"No." Harry responded flatly.

"McGonagall would go nuts if she knew—"

"Until you're in our position, Ron, which I'm hoping to god you never will be, you don't understand." Devore voiced and she looked up at him, her dark eyes wet and glistening. "So please."

Ron was silent after that. He scratched the back of his head, sharing a look with Fred and George, the latter glancing nervously at his red faced twin brother.

"Dev, have you told your mother about this? Or Bennet—"

"No," she interrupted sharply, giving Hermione a hard stare. "And don't any of you go behind my back and mention it to them." She looked at Fred. "Freddie."

He held his hands up, still not saying anything.

"Devore, if you can't trust a teacher, you can trust your family."

"You don't get it, Mione. Bennet's having a hard time already without Cedric being here. And my mum's finally in a good place. This would just worry her to death. I can't do that to them."

"Dev, your feelings aren't a burden." George said to her.

"I know that, Georgie. But I can handle a few scars on my hand." She spoke bravely but on the inside, Devore was crumbling. To make things appear better, she looked at Harry. "I mean, it still won't stop be from defending you, you know that."

He responded with a quick but light smile.

"She's an awful woman," said Hermione in a small voice. "Awful. You know, I was thinking about it earlier. . . we've got to do something about her."

"Poison." "Chop her to pieces." Ron and Devore both said grimly. She looked up. "I thought we liked my plan?"

"I do like your plan. But poison's also an option."

"No!" Hermione interrupted them. "I mean, something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and how we're not going to learn any defense from her at all."

"What good's that going to do?" Fred spoke up and stood from the chair. He went and sat behind Devore on the couch, resting his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them softly. "It's not like she's going anywhere."

"Yeah, Fudge'll make sure of that. Old block." George agreed with him and took his spot on the chair.

"Well, said Hermione tentatively. She glanced forward at Devore. "I was thinking today. . . I actually discussed it with Olivia and Morgan. . . I was thinking – maybe the time's come when we should just — do it ourselves?"

Devore titled her head, confused. "Wait, what?"

"Do what ourselves?" Said Harry suspiciously, still floating his hands in the essence of murtlap tentacles.

"Well – learn Defensive Against the Dark Arts."

"What did the girls say to that?" Devore asked her, slightly annoyed that she missed out on that conversation.

"They both think it's a great idea!"

"Come off it." Ron groaned. "You want us to do extra work? D'you realize Harry and I are behind on homework again and it's only the second week?" He complained.

"That's more of a you issue." Said Fred, Devore nodding along.

"But this is much more important than homework!" Hermione exclaimed.

Devore never thought she'd hear those words. "How much blood did I lose, cause I could've sworn I just heard Hermione Granger utter the words 'more important than homework'?"

The boys laughed and Hermione scoffed at her. "Don't be silly! It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge's first lesson, for what's waiting out there. It's about making sure we can really defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year—"

"We can't do much by ourselves," said Ron in a defeated voice. "I mean, all right, we can go and look up jinxes in the library and try and practice them, but—"

"We need a teacher," Devore declared, getting what Hermione was saying. "Somebody who actually cares if we live or die, and is willing to teach us."

"If you're talking about Lupin. . ." Harry began.

Hermione shook her head. "No, not Lupin. He's too busy with the Order. And anyway, the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and that's not nearly often enough."

"Too bad Chanel couldn't do it. She'd been so badass." George brought up with a chortle.

Devore rolled her eyes.

"Who, then?" Asked Harry while frowning.

There was a silence, a long one, and Hermione looked at Devore, her lips pursing. They had the same idea, only they knew it was probably one Harry wouldn't like.

Just as she expected, when they brought the idea up to Harry that he should be the one to teach them, he was outraged. But they all knew that the only person who could help them with defensive spells was The Boy Who Lived himself. The group traveled through the snowy town of Hogsmeade. Devore tugged her blue beanie over her freezing ears. "This is mad. Who would want to be taught by me? I'm a nutter, remember?" Harry grumbled to his friends.

"You're not. People are just too stupid to actually learn the truth." Devore denied and clutched her thick coat closer to her. 

"Look on the bright side. Can't be any worse than ole toad face." Ron added, trying to make him feel better.

Harry wasn't amused. "Thanks, Ron, Dev."

"We're here for you mate."

"Who's supposed to be meeting us then?"

"Just a couple of people." Hermione answered, side eyeing Devore.

"Olivia and Morgan were a shoe in and I got Atlas to agree to come as long as I bought him butterbeers. Legend will be there too to, y'know, keep him in line."

Hermione opened the door of The Hog's Head, the building that the meeting was being held at. There was not a person in sight. only the owner and a goat. "Lovely spot." Said Ron sarcastically.

"I thought it would be safer somewhere off the beaten track." Hermione explained.

"I would definitely not think to look here first, so, good job 'Mione."

She grinned with a red face. The barman sidled toward them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long gray hair and beard. "What?" He grunted.

"Three butterbeers, please." said Hermione.

The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar. Devore jumped.

"I'll get them." said Harry quickly, passing over the silver.

The bar-man's eyes traveled over Harry, resting for a fraction of a second on his scar. Then he turned away and deposited his money in an ancient wooden drawer that slid open automatically to receive it. The group walked away from the counter.

"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here. I bet that bloke would sell us anything. He wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try
Firewhisky—"

"You didn't try any at the twin's party?" Asked Devore.

"No, I didn't get a chance—"

"You two are prefects!" Hermione snarled.

"Oh," said Ron, the smile fading from his face. "Yeah. . ."

Devore raised a finger. "Hey, it was before I was prefect!"

Hermione rolled her eyes heavily. She led them to the back room. The floorboards squealed under their shoes. She opened the door and they were met by a crowd of Hogwarts students. Everyone stared at each other, silently. It was everyone from the Weasley twins, to the Kennedy twins, to Legend, to Luna and Cho, to Angelina and Alicia, to Neville and Dean, to Lavender and the Patil twins, to Justin Finch-Fletchly and Ernie McMillan, to Colin Creevy and Hannah Abbott and Ginny, and so many more. Bennet sat beside Morgan, who was trying to avoid the stares from the people around her because she was a Slytherin.

Devore's eyes went large. "A few people?"

"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular." Said Hermione happily.

"I just came for the butterbeer." Said Atlas and he held up his drink.

"How many's that?"

"Only one so far. Don't worry, I'm prepared." Legend told her with a smile.

The four friends sat across from everybody, the amount of eyes on them overwhelming. "Er," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. "Wel— Er — Hi."

The group focused its attention on her, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.

"Well. . . Erm. . . Well, you know why you're here. Erm. . . Well, Harry here had the idea—"

Harry threw her a sharp look.

"I mean—I had the idea—that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against The Dark Arts—and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us—"

"Which is nothing." Devore insisted.

"Because nobody could call that Defense Against The Dark Arts. Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands." Hermione continued. She paused, looked sideways at Harry and then Devore and Ron, and went on. "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly,'not just theory but the real spells—"

"You want to pass your Defense Against The Dark Arts O.W.L too though, I bet?" said Michael Corner.

"Of course I do," said Hermione at once. "But I want more than that. I want to be properly trained in defense because. . . because . . ." She took a great breath and finished, "Because Lord Voldemort's back."

The reaction was immediate and predictable. Cho's friend shrieked and slopped butterbeer down herself, Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch, Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. Bennet looked completely terrified. Devore motioned for him to come and sit with her and he quickly got up from where he was and went to her side.

Atlas paused mid sip of his butterbeer and he and Olivia looked at Devore in disbelief. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry. "Should we really be discussing this in front of two Slytherins." One of the boys in the back sneered, his eyes fixated on Morgan and Devore.

Fred turned his head and glared at him. "Shut your mouth."

Morgan turned around and glared at him but Devore took action first. "Harry's not the only who's good with a wand." She stated and took out her own wand. Her eyes darkened. "Wanna say that again?"

The boy's eyes widened in fear and he immediately stopped taking.

"Well. . .that's the plan anyway," Hermione continued awkwardly. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to—"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it—"

"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," he interrupted again, nodding at Harry.

"Who are you?" said Ron rather rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," said the boy. "And I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Okay, Zacharias." Devore shot. "Dumb name by the way. Why don't you—"

"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly. "That's really not what this meeting was supposed to be
about—"

"It's okay, Hermione." said Harry.

That's when Devore realized why there was so many people there. Some of these people — maybe even most of them — had turned up in the hope of hearing Harry's story firsthand. It angered her to her core, not feeling like it was anyone's business to hear what happened to Harry that night. "Harry, you don't have to—"

"No, Devore, it's okay." Harry shook his head. "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" He asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke. He had the impression that even the barman was listening in. He was wiping the same glass with the filthy rag; it was becoming steadily dirtier.

Zacharias said dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details. He didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered. I think we'd all like to know—"

"Really? Because all I'm hearing is your mouth right now." Devore snapped, getting extremely annoyed.

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone, I can't help you," Harry said. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again. He did not take his eyes from Zacharias Smith's aggressive face. He was contemplating letting Devore punch him. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

Bennet's lips tugged into a frown. Hearing Cedric's name, though he had no choice but to hear it anyway, was still hard, the wound still fresh. He thought of Cedric all the time, how excited he used to be to see him every day and talk to him, and how much it hurt to not be able to hear his laugh or high five him.

Devore how upset her brother was becoming and she glared at them all.

Harry casted an angry look at Hermione. Devore frowned. She understood how he was feeling. He had to watch his friend die and he couldn't do anything about it and now he was being forced to relive those old memories. It wasn't fair that everyone was putting so much pressure on him.

"So," said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. "So. . . like I was saying. . . if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to—"

"Is it true," interrupted Susan Bones, looking at Harry. "That you can produce a patronus?"

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this. "Yeah." Said Harry, slightly defensive.

"A corporeal patronus?"

The phrase stirred something in Harry's memory.
"Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" He asked.

She smiled. "She's my auntie. I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag patronus?"

"Yes."

"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred, grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"Like always, she was right." Devore stated and slowly looked over at Ron with an annoyed glance, making him chuckle ever so slightly.

A couple people laughed.

"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" Demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year. . ."

"Er — yeah, I did, yeah." said Harry.

"And in our first year," said Neville to the group at large. "He saved that Sorcerous stone—"

"Sorcerer's." Hermione hissed.

"Yes, that, from You-Know-Who." He finished.

Hannah Abbott's eyes were as round as galleons.

"Dude, you are so badass!" Atlas said loudly with an ecstatic smile on his face.

"And that's not to mention," said Cho, causing Harry's eyes to snap at her and his face went red. "All the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past dragons and merpeople and things. . ."

"Damn, Harry, we should write a book about you." Devore commented, making everyone laugh again.

Harry rolled his eyes at her comment. "Look, I–I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, But. . . I had a lot of help with all that stuff."

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner at once. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying."

"Yeah, well—" said Harry, feeling it would be churlish to disagree.

"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer." said Susan Bones.

"No," he started again. "No, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is—"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith.

"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly before Harry could speak. "Why don't you shut your mouth?"

"Yeah!" Devore agreed and they shared a low high five.

Zacharias flushed red. "Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it."

"That's not what he said." Fred snarled.

"Devore's right, you're literally the one complaining." Olivia sneered after him.

George pulled a long and lethal looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's. "Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?"

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this." Said his twin.

"I'll help." Devore smirked and Fred winked at her.

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily. "Moving on. . . the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement. Soon after,  they had everyone line up to sign their name on a piece of paper. The top of the paper was signed Dumbledore's Army. 

Fred signed his name and stood close by Devore,  wrapping her in his arms. "Have I ever told you you're hot when you get angry?"

"Hmm, not exactly but I would love it hear it." She smirked and he leaned down, kissing her lips.