The Order of the Phoenix sat around the kitchen table of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, with Dumbledore at the head of the table, and the rest seated or standing, sipping on the tea Molly had made. Everyone was present (except for Snape and McGonagall, who couldn't leave Hogwarts) and squished together in the tiny kitchen.

Diana sat quietly, watching the conversation, not contributing much because, frankly, she didn't really have much to say. She was tired, for her nightmares had started to intrude into her every day life. Not only were they keeping her up at night or waking her up in a fit of anxiety and fear, ordinary or every day things reminded her of her nightmares. Any Slytherin badge made her fingers twitch, for they reminded her of the snake. The armored knights in the hallways reminded her of the Death Eaters. Every time she looked at Harry, a volt of nerves shot up her spine, for he invaded her dreams the most.

"We think Sturgis has been Imperio'd by You-Know-Who," said Mad-Eye gruffly, sipping almost delicately from his girly china teacup, "first, he didn't show up to bring Harry to King's Cross, and now he tried to break into the Department of Mysteries. He's getting six months in Azkaban."

"I heard," said Kingsley, his voice loud and deep, "the Auror office isn't allowed to look into it." Tonks scoffed, obviously extremely annoyed at the Ministry. "They won't let anyone investigate."

"He didn't even give a defense either," added Mr. Weasley, who was sitting next to his wife with his hand over hers. "He refused to speak in his own defense, so they had no choice but to ship him off to Azkaban."

There was brief silence in which everyone mourned Sturgis Podmore.

"It's strange, isn't it," said Diana slowly, speaking for the first time that night. Everyone looked at her, almost as if they forgot she was there. "I mean, why him? If they wanted to get in, don't you think they'd just put one of the Unspeakables under the Imperious curse? Wouldn't that be easier?"

"Are you saying you think they might know he's in the Order?" asked Mrs. Weasley gravely, her hand placed on her cheek.

Diana shrugged. "I don't know. Either it was a crime of opportunity, a stupid plan that was destined to go wrong, or they know explicitly that he's a member."

Dumbledore nodded. "That's a good point. Kingsley, Alastor, Tonks, will you guys look into it in the Auror office or ask any contacts in the Department of Mysteries you may have? See if anyone knows anything?"

The three nodded, Alastor raising his teacup in assent with a grunt.

"Diana, have you noticed anything strange with Harry?" asked Dumbledore, ticking the last conversation off of the list of things to be discussed.

"His scar has been hurting him lately," she started, and Sirius nodded.

"I got a letter from him recently, and he told me that his scar was hurting more often. Also told me a little of the nightmares he's been having," Sirius added, gaining a nod from Dumbledore.

"I noticed he's been having nightmares as well," she said. "I also..." she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "He's been growing frustrated, Dumbledore, that you won't talk to him, or even look at him. He thinks he's done something wrong. He's frustrated no one will tell him anything." She looked around the room, at everyone who looked to be listening intently. "I think he'll do something stupid."

She met Dumbledore's gaze. It was full of despair and sadness. "We've been over this," he said lightly, looking around the room. "He's too far connected with Voldemort. If he knew of any of our plans, and Voldemort found out about the connection, it would ruin everything. We simply cannot risk it."

She nodded. She did understand; he made a fair point and it made sense, for it was just too dangerous. Something in her, though, told her this wasn't a situation that they could handle like this; Harry was angry and fragile, and one thing to set him off would create a cataclysmic explosion, and it would create even more problems for the Order.

"Did you hear about what happened in Harry's detention?" she asked. Everyone, even Dumbledore, furrowed their eyebrows, shaking their heads. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up. "You haven't heard about this?"

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, his voice laced with apprehensiveness.

She hesitated. Was it her place to tell them, if Harry didn't want them to know? "Umbridge made him write lines, but the pen she made him do it with was...special," she started, still hesitant about telling them.

"Special how?" said Dumbledore slowly.

"It carved the lines he was forced to write into his skin," she said, and an outraged cry came from everyone in the room.

"WHAT?" Sirius roared, his chair tipping over in the process.

"That foul woman!" Mrs. Weasley screamed, slamming her fist on the table.

"Dumbledore, you have to do something!" Sirius yelled, his face red with anger.

Dumbledore seemed to be thinking hard, as if he was having an argument with himself in his mind. "I'll handle it," was all he said, but his eyes contained a dark anger for the woman that he seemed to be restraining.

"You'll handle it? What the---"

He held a hand up to Sirius, who reluctantly silenced himself and forcefully picked up his chair and sat down. He glared at Dumbledore, but Diana knew deep down that he understood.

Dumbledore was in a tight spot. The Ministry was all over him, and there was nothing he could say or do to get Umbridge to stop this. He can't go to Fudge, because he would only take Umbridge's side, and he couldn't confront Umbridge because she would just go to Fudge. What could he do that wouldn't come back on him or the Order?

"They're also thinking of starting a...club," Diana added, not giving too much detail for if the club was found out, it would come straight back to Dumbledore. It was best if he knew as little as possible.

He nodded. "I suspected as much. Do help them, will you? They'll need it." She nodded in silent agreement, and the meeting was dismissed, and she Floo'd back to Hogwarts and straight to bed, where she fell into a deep sleep plagued once again with vicious nightmares of Harry Potter and her father.

+++

She was running late, once again, as she rushed up the stone path to the small village of Hogsmeade, where she was supposed to be in the Hog's Head ten minutes earlier. She finally reached the door, out of breath, and yanked it open. Inside was a gigantic crowd of students, with a few stragglers who looked extremely displeased by the noise they were making.

"Sorry I'm late," she breathed, her hands on her knees.

"No worries, we were just going to start," said Ron, who was bringing chair around so everyone could sit.

Diana took a seat next to Ron, Hermione, and Harry, facing the large group. The twins were there, with Lee Jordan. Neville, Luna, Dean, and Parvati and Padma Patil sat in a small group, and Cho and one of her friends who Diana didn't recognize sat on the far left. Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson sat near the front, and there was Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, and a Hufflepuff girl with a long plait down her back. There was Michael Corner, Terry Boot, and Anthony Goldstein, and Ginny and a Hufflepuff boy who Diana knew was on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. All of them had butterbeers in hand and sipped idly as they expectantly waited for any of the four to start talking.

"Er," started Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual. "Well---er---hi."

Diana watched with secondhand-embarrassment as Hermione struggled abysmally talking in front of the group.

"Would you like me to take over?" she whispered quietly in Hermione's ear after a pause, and Hermione breathed out a thankful 'yes.'

Diana clapped her hands together once. "So, we're all here for the same reason. We want to learn actual Defensive magic instead of that complete rubbish Umbridge teaches you all." She got a chorus of yells of agreement, and she smiled.

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. though, too, I bet?" said Michael Corner to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Diana beat her too it.

"Of course they want to pass, but the reason we're doing this is because Voldemort is back," she said, like she was ripping a Band-Aid off. The reaction was immediate and predictable. Many shrieked, Terry Boot twitched, and Neville yelped. All of them, though, fixed their eyes on Harry.

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who is back?" asked the Hufflepuff boy on the Quidditch team.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it---" Hermione started.

"You mean Dumbledore believes him," he said, pointing to Harry.

"Who are you?" Ron asked rudely, and Diana held back a snort.

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

"You have absolutely no right to hear an explanation form Harry. You either trust him and shut up, or you leave. If you say something else ignorant, I kick your arse out myself," Diana hissed, causing him to flinch and some of the others to involuntarily scoot back in their chairs. "Voldemort is back," she said, louder and stronger to the entire group. "If you don't want to believe it, then fine. Leave. But when he comes, trying to take over the Wizarding World, you're going to be real sorry that you were so ignorantly naïve."

That shut Zacharias right up, and he glared at her until she gave him a nasty look, which immediately caused him to look away.

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone, I can't help you," Harry started, all eyes glued to him almost hungrily. "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."

None of them left, not even Zachariah, who had taken to glaring intently at the floor.

Diana continued. "We need to work out how we're going to do this---"

"Is it true," interrupted the girl with along braid down her back, "that you can produce a Patronus?'

"Er, yeah," he said, "Diana can, too." He was referring to the time over the summer in Headquarters where she had made her Patronus, a snake, which she had named Lionel, do obscure cartwheels down the stairs.

Many people gasped slightly, and their eyes flicked back and forth from Harry and Diana.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er---you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" Harry asked strangely. Diana furrowed her eyebrows.

The girl smiled. "She's my auntie," she said proudly. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So---is it true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Blimey, Harry!" exclaimed Lee Jordan loudly. "I never knew that! What about you? What's yours?" he asked, nodding towards Diana.

She hesitated. They would be confused as to the form her Patronus takes, like the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were. "A snake," she said quickly, almost wishing that people wouldn't be able to understand what she said.

"A snake? But---"

"It doesn't matter," she interrupted. "The point is, if you join, we can teach you."

"And did you kill the basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot after the cheering had quieted down. "That's what one of the portraits in the wall told me when I was in there last year..."

"Those portraits are just gossipy little bastards..."

"Er, yeah, I did," Harry replied, side-eyeing Diana and trying not to laugh. He fidgeted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled, and the Creevey brothers exchanged small "woahs."

"And in our first year," started Neville excitedly, "he saved the Sorcerous Stone---"

"Sorcerer's," hissed Hermione.

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

"And that's not to mention," started Cho, "all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year---getting past merpeople and dragons and acromantulas and things..."

There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the room. Harry looked incredibly uncomfortable, for he was squirming and fidgeting.

"Look," he said, and everyone fell silent. "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 of that stuff..."

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

"Yeah, well---"

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

"No, 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 rudely. Diana narrowed her eyes at him, ready to curse him into oblivion, but Ron beat her to it.

"Here's an idea," he said, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

Fred and George threatened to stick a lethal looking instrument from Zonko's somewhere on Zacharias where nothing should be stuck, but Hermione hastily tried to change the subject.

"Yes, well, moving on...the point is are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry and Diana?"

"Wait," said Cho. "Who even are you?" she asked Diana rather rudely, here eyebrows furrowing. "I mean, no one knows anything about you, and you just show up and get to sit at the staff table in the Dining Hall and you aren't even a student. And not to mention, you just said your Patronus is a snake..."

Did Diana detect jealousy?

There was nothing Cho needed to be jealous about. Of course, Diana admired Harry. He was strong, powerful, and smart. Harry had been thrown into a situation that he had no control over and was thrown a whole load of responsibility even though he didn't deserve it, and Diana could relate. They were both born into a life of responsibility that they had never asked for. And, of course, Harry wasn't too bad on the eyes, but Diana knew that attachments were not an advantage in this world. (Diana had already ruined that, though. She had grown to actually care for people over the summer, so it's not like she could really use that as a valid excuse for not liking him.)

Some people nodded their heads in agreement with Cho, but most kept their mouths shut, knowing they wouldn't want to cross her.

Diana raised her eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips. She leaned forward, her legs crossing, and she narrowed her eyes. "I owe none of you any answers about my personal life. You came here for one reason: you want to learn more Defensive Spells, because you all are somewhat smart enough to understand what's happening. So: do you want my help or not?" she hissed, her eyes hardening to a menacing glare. Most nodded, except for a few who were too nervous to even make a motion of agreement. Cho just stayed silent, but that was enough for Diana, so she sat back in her chair with a satisfied sigh.

She zoned out as they talked about how to schedule the meetings, because Diana really had no plans ever and could attend any meeting any time. A change in topic, though, brought her out of her thoughts.

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, "is that she's got some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the  ministry."

There was a stunned silence. "It's true," said Diana. "They're stupid enough to think that Dumbledore's going to create an army against them. They're grasping at anything to make Dumbledore look like a fool and anything to make it so they don't think of the inevitable."

"Well, that makes sense," Luna piped up. "After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" said Harry and Diana in unison.

"Yes. He's got an army of heliopaths."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Hermione hissed, "No, he hasn't." Diana sniggered as quietly as she could, her hand covering her mouth. She tried to cover it with a cough but failed miserably.

"Yes, he has."

"What are heliopaths?" said Neville blankly, which made Diana snigger harder, which made many around the room also try to contain their laughter.

"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione.

Luna and Hermione continued to bicker about the validity of her claim.

"Hem, hem," Ginny said in an incredibly accurate impression of Umbridge. Diana couldn't hold it any longer, and she burst out into a full-fledged laugh. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?"

They settled on once a week, after considering all other clubs and activities. Next, they needed to figure out a meeting place.

"Library?" suggested Katie Bell.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," piped up Harry.

"An unused classroom?" said Dean.

"Yeah..." said Ron, "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard Tournament."

Diana furrowed her eyebrows. Where could they do it? She would suggest her room, for it might be big enough if they moved the bed and couches out of the way, but she honestly didn't want all of them to know where her room was. She liked the secrecy regarding the location of her quarters. Where could they hold these meetings in a safe place big enough?

"What about the Room of Requirement?" she said, and every eye fell on her.

"The Room of what?" said Hermione, who seemed to have voiced the same thought as everyone else.

"Requirement," she said. She had found the room in a fit of boredom on a random Tuesday in the middle of the day. She had decided to go exploring, and miraculously discovered it. "It's a huge room on the seventh floor. It can fulfill any wish; like if you needed a bathroom, it would provide it for you. If you needed a big place, hidden from teachers, that could be used for Defense practice, it can become that."

"How the Hell did you manage to find that?" asked George. Him and his brother seemed rather miffed that someone knew of a room that they didn't know about.

She shrugged. No one else gave better suggestions, so they settled to meet in the Room of Requirement. She also told them how to get in.

Hermione rummaged through her bag, pulling out a quill and a piece of parchment. Diana had helped Hermione charm the parchment to punish anyone who tattled on them. "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 anyone---about what we're up to."

Fred signed first. Zacharias tried to make an excuse, and Ernie said he was hesitant about signing because of his status as a Prefect.

"Look," said Diana with an aggravated sigh. "I don't care who you are. I don't care whether you're a Prefect or the bloody Minister of Magic; if you don't want to die because of Voldemort"--everyone gave a sharp intake of breath--"then sign the goddamn paper and get on with it."

"Guys, do you really think I'd just leave this lying around?" added Hermione testily. Everyone seemed slightly more comfortable now, and in just under five minutes everyone had signed the paper and had left.

"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," said Ron with a scowl.

Diana snorted. "Tell me about it. I thought I was going to have to stick my wand straight up his---"

"Ahh!" said Hermione, covering Diana's mouth with her hand. Ron and Diana laughed very loudly and ungracefully. "I don't like him much either," she added once the laughing had subsided. "But the more people the better really---I mean, Michael Corner and his friends wouldn't have come if he hadn't been going out with Ginny---"

Ron gagged on the sip of butterbeer he had just taken, and Diana snorted. "He's WHAT?"

"Did you really not know that?" Diana asked. "Wow, you really are dense."

Ron ignored her. "She's going out with---my sister's going out with---what d'you mean, Michael Corner?"

"That's why he and his friends came, you idiot," Diana scoffed. Ron sputtered. "I mean, they're obviously interested in learning Defense, but if Ginny hadn't told Michael what was going on---"

"When did this---when did she---?"

"They met at the Yule Ball and they got together at the end of last year," said Hermione before Diana could answer. She felt Diana was probably making the situation worse by not breaking it to him delicately.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry had started towards the door, but there was something Diana wanted to take care of first. "Guys, I'll catch up to you later," she said, her eyes darting between the bar and her friends. "There's something I want to do first."

"Okay," said Hermione. "We'll be at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop."

Diana waited until the door chimed shut. She hesitated, her lip pulled into her mouth and she started chewing on it. She took a deep breath and walked to the bar.

The barman was sitting, polishing dirty glasses with a dirty rag. He seemed to have a permanent scowl that had been etched into his face after years of unhappiness. He ignored her as she walked up, and continued to ignore her when she sat in front of him on the other side of the bar.

"I know you," she blurted. He grunted but looked up, his scowl still on his face. The moment he looked at her, his eyes flashed with something unrecognizable.

"You know me, eh? I don't reckon I know you," he grunted rather rudely, though unconvincingly. By now, he had stopped polishing (if you could even call it that) his glass.

"You're Aberforth Dumbledore," she said quickly, before she could convince herself to run away. She hesitated. "And I'm sorry about your sister," she added, considerably more quiet and delicate.

"Who are you?" he growled, his large hands nearly cracking the glass from the force of his grip.

"I know you've given up," she said, this time a little stronger. "I know you think there's no hope for this world, but please, the time will come where we'll need you. Please don't turn it down because of your hopelessness."

She turned on her heel and left, for she had nothing else to say. She didn't see or hear the glass breaking on the floor, or the way Aberforth was severely trying to keep tears from escaping.

Tears he had been holding for a long, long time.