A Cord of Three Strands

A Cord of Three Strands

By Cindale

Chapter 4

"Professor Shacklebolt"

"Though one may be overpowered,

two can defend themselves.

A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."

Ecclesiastes 4:12

"But that's so discriminatory!" Hermione almost shouted. "Just because he's a werewolf. And after all the things he's done for the Order!"

Hermione sat next to Ron on the sofa beside the Gryffindor common room fireplace. Harry sat in a chair opposite his friends, repeating what Professor Dumbledore had told him about Remus.

"You're right," said Harry in a low, angry voice, "but there's nothing we can do about it. Dumbledore said Tonks is staying with him while he's questioned, and Shacklebolt went down to work on getting him released tonight."

"I'll bet that Umbridge woman is behind this," Ron growled. "Didn't Si- " He broke off and looked at Harry in alarm.

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes. "It's okay, Ron," he said. "Don't be afraid to mention his name."

Ron still looked a little worried, but continued. "Didn't Sirius say that Umbridge was responsible for some anti-werewolf laws?"

"I think you're right, Ron," Hermione agreed. "And remember how she always talked about 'dangerous half-breeds'? I'll bet it was her."

Harry thought about that for a moment before saying, "If it is her, then there might be something we can do, after all." He bent closer to his friends, and they instinctively leaned forward. "Can you two help me ask around to see if anyone else had detention with Umbridge last year?"

********************************

Harry, Ron, Neville, and Dean eagerly chatted about the classes they had chosen to continue as they walked down the dormitory stairs the next morning. Hermione joined them in the common room and Ron dropped a quick kiss on her cheek, which caused her to blush.

"Oi! Stop it Weasley!" Dean protested, adding gagging noises.

"Leave them alone," Harry murmured to Dean, elbowing him in the arm. He privately agreed with Dean's assessment, but felt the need to defend his best friends. "I don't see you with a girlfriend."

"Not yet," said Dean in a cryptic tone.

Ron ignored them and held his head high as he walked to breakfast with Hermione holding his hand. When they reached the Great Hall, Neville scanned the Gryffindor table, mumbled a goodbye, and made a beeline for the empty seat next to Ginny Weasley. Harry narrowed his eyes in puzzlement as he watched him, but then Dean said, "Neville didn't waste any time, did he?"

Harry was surprised when he grasped Dean's meaning, and he couldn't help glancing at Ron to see if he had noticed, but Ron only had eyes for his girlfriend. Dean said, "See you, mates," and headed down the table to sit with a couple of giggling fourth year girls.

Harry shook his head and took his place beside Ron at the table, wondering when his dorm mates had all become so interested in girls. With all that had happened, dating had been the last thing on his mind during the summer holidays. He wondered if it would seem strange to his friends if he didn't seek a girlfriend. He hoped not, since the little experience he'd had with dating had not been very pleasant.

The arrival of owl post was a welcome interruption to these musings. Hedwig landed neatly in front of Harry and held out her leg. Harry removed the note and stroked his pet lovingly, murmuring, "How are you, girl? I missed you." The owl rubbed her face against Harry's hand and nipped his finger affectionately before flying off toward the Owlery.

Harry turned his attention to the note. "Look, it's from Remus!" he said to Ron and Hermione, gaining their attention for the first time that morning.

"What's it say?" Ron asked through a mouthful of toast, earning a glare from Hermione.

"He's fine," he reported after scanning the short missive. "Dumbledore talked him into staying here at Hogwarts, but we're supposed to keep that quiet. They don't want parents complaining about a werewolf in the castle. He's got quarters on the seventh floor as far away from traffic flow as possible." He passed the note to Hermione then looked away as Ron draped an arm around her and propped his chin on her shoulder to read along with her.

The sound of a throat clearing loudly caused Ron to drop his arm and sit up straight. McGonagall gave Ron a glare as she handed the three of them their class schedules.

"Good! Defence Against the Dark Arts, first thing," Ron said with obvious pleasure. "We can see what it's like having an Auror for a teacher."

As Harry was finishing his juice, he noticed Ginny leaving the Great Hall without her book bag. Neville trailed along behind her, puffing a little under the weight of two bags. When Ginny reached the end of the aisle, she turned and smiled at Neville, waiting for him to catch up. Harry glanced in alarm at Ron, but he was too busy eating to notice. After Neville and Ginny were safely out of the room, Harry said, "Come on, let's go and get a good seat."

They arrived at the classroom ten minutes early and joined the large crowd waiting outside the locked door. Apparently all the sixth year N.E.W.T. students were curious about their new teacher. Dean made his way over to them, and they were all chatting lightly when Dean looked past Harry with a beaming smile. "Seamus!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned as one.

"Hey mates," Seamus said, looking smug. "Just arrived. Mum insisted on cooking me breakfast at home. Glad I'm not late."

"So you get to stay, then?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Seamus nodded. "My mum convinced my dad that I needed to finish my wizard education, especially with the war on and all."

"Brilliant!" Dean said. He grabbed his friend's elbow and pulled him away from the others. As they went, Harry heard Dean say, "I met these two pretty fourth years at breakfast..."

The door finally opened from the inside, and the class filed in. Harry looked around in amazement. The room appeared to have doubled in size since last year and had been drastically rearranged. The desks were ordered in concentric semi-circles on ascending levels. There was no teacher's desk in the front, only a large, empty space on the lowest level.

Ron and Hermione took a desk in the front row, and Harry sat at the desk next to them. Neville slipped into the place next to Harry, puffing a little as if he'd been running. "Where've you been?" Harry asked him with a huge grin. He thought he knew, since he had seen Neville leave the Great Hall with Ginny.

"Walking Ginny to class," Neville whispered. "Do you think Ron will mind?"

"I don't know - why don't you ask him?" Harry smirked, remembering how Ron had reacted to news of Ginny's previous boyfriends.

"No, that's okay," Neville said, with a nervous glance in Ron's direction.

The students fell silent as Professor Shacklebolt strode into the room from a side door in the front. "Good morning," he said in his booming voice, his deep brown eyes darting around the room. "This is sixth year N.E.W.T. level Defence Against the Dark Arts. My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt. I've been an Auror for twenty-one years. I've never taught school before, but I've trained Aurors. Therefore, my instruction will take a more practical form than you've had in the past. I daresay that will serve you well in the current political climate.

"There will be no friends or enemies in this class, no cliques, no rivalries, and no Houses. When we do practical exercises you won't think of your partner as someone you like or dislike, but simply a person you need to defeat. If you let affection or hatred get in your way, you will make mistakes."

Zacharias Smith raised his hand. "What House were you in?"

Shacklebolt glared at Smith before replying. The blond Hufflepuff held his stare for a moment, but finally lowered his eyes. The professor said, "It doesn't matter - like I said, there will be no House differentiations made here. But for the sake of illustration - I was in Slytherin."

There was a collective murmuring at this announcement. Harry looked at Shacklebolt's expression and realized he had expected this reaction, and was, in fact, amused by it. "Think I should be wearing a hood and mask, do you? Wondering if I'm a spy for You-Know-Who?"

Only Theodore Nott had the audacity to speak. "So you're loyal to Dumbledore, then?"

The class collectively turned shocked eyes to the professor. "Nott, is it?" Shacklebolt's eyes studied him for a moment and then looked at Crabbe and Goyle, who were sitting on either side of Nott. His eyes flickered over to Malfoy, who was sitting by himself in the back row, before coming to rest on Nott again. "Well, Mr. Nott, listen very carefully." His eyes swept the room before he spoke again in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. "I am loyal to myself. It's my conscience I have to live with, not Dumbledore's, not the Ministry's ..." his eyes went to Nott again, "... and not my parents'. I believe You-Know-Who is wrong, and I have to act on my conscience to remain true to myself." The students looked at him with rapt attention as they digested his words.

"But we digress," he said in his normal booming voice. "You're here to learn defence, not to discuss my background and loyalties." His eyes swept around the room and came to rest on Harry. "Could you come forward, Mr. Potter? I need your help in a demonstration."

Harry felt a sinking in his stomach, but he got to his feet and walked quickly to the front. He had been under the impression that he would be Shacklebolt's assistant in name only; he hadn't realized he would be called upon to be the centre of attention in class.

"You have your wand, I trust?" asked the professor. Harry pulled out his wand and held it up. "Excellent. I challenge you to a duel, Mr. Potter." Harry nodded once and turned his back on his teacher, holding his wand vertically in front of his face. As he walked three paces away, he hoped his nervousness didn't show. He had seen his opponent duel two Death Eaters at once without breaking a sweat; he had the feeling he was about to be humiliated.

Harry turned and mirrored Shacklebolt's bow without breaking eye contact. As the professor counted them down, Harry tried to imagine what spell Shacklebolt might cast. He wasn't surprised when his opponent shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and his shield easily blocked the Disarming Charm.

Shacklebolt nodded and began to move sideways in a semi-circle, sizing Harry up with his eyes. Harry mirrored his movements. After a few steps Harry shouted, "Tarantallegra!" and wasn't surprised when Shacklebolt neatly dodged the leg-tangling spell. However, before Harry had a chance to recover, the professor shouted, "Impedimenta!", and he found himself on his bum before he could even cast a shield.

His anger burned when he heard the snickers from the Slytherins. Shacklebolt strode over to him, holding out his hand to help him up. For a moment, Harry's anger was diverted toward his teacher for humiliating him in front of the entire class, and before he knew it, he had yelled, "Impedimenta!" at Shacklebolt. He felt a small bit of satisfaction that the tall man was just barely able to dodge the hex. Of course, it would have been more satisfying if the curse had hit its mark, but Harry knew if it had he probably would have been serving detention. He looked up into the professor's face, expecting to find anger there, but Shacklebolt was smiling.

"This was supposed to be a friendly, formal duel," the teacher said to the class as Harry pulled himself to his feet, "so Mr. Potter's Impediment Spell wasn't entirely appropriate. However, he illustrated a point I wished to make. You all are more likely to find yourselves in a potential deadly duel with an enemy than a friendly duel like we demonstrated today. You have to remember to constantly watch for your opponent to let down his guard or to be distracted. That's the only way you can beat an opponent whose skill is equal to or greater than yours. You also have to remember to keep your focus so your opponent cannot find an opportunity for attack." He turned to Harry and said, "Thank you, Mr. Potter. You may take your seat."

After Harry was seated, he continued, "I expect a roll of parchment from each of you on Thursday regarding the history of duelling. Right now, I want you to pair yourselves off alphabetically. For example, Miss Abbott will be paired with Miss Bones, and Mr. Weasley will be paired with Mr. Zabini. I want you to practice disarming each other only. When the bell rings, you may go."

The students rose from their seats and began milling around, looking for their partners. Harry found himself paired with Padma Patil since Pansy Parkinson had grabbed the wrong twin, but he didn't mind; Parvati tended to be giggly. Padma worked hard on the spell and didn't treat Harry like a celebrity. Harry couldn't help thinking about how pretty she was with her face screwed up in concentration, and his mind drifted back to his thoughts earlier about finding a girlfriend. It might not be so bad if it wasn't someone who giggled or cried all the time. He didn't want to go to the trouble of asking someone out, but he didn't want to be the only one left without a companion, either.

When the bell rang, he mustered his courage. If Neville could do it, he certainly could. "Padma..." he began.

"Thanks, Harry," she said as she pocketed her wand.

He took a deep breath. "Padma, c-could I walk you to class?"

Her eyes widened in surprise before her expression settled into a relaxed grin. "I'm sorry ... I'm already ... Terry's walking me to Arithmancy." She jerked her head in the direction of the Ravenclaw boy who looked up from gathering his book bag to narrow his eyes at Harry.

"That's okay," Harry said, trying hard to force his face into a nonchalant expression and hoping he wasn't blushing. He flashed a grin and escaped from the room as quickly as he could.

Ron was waiting for him outside the door. "Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Arithmancy," Ron answered. "So, what do you want to do with our free period? Go to the library and have a go at that essay?"

"No," Harry said quickly, realizing suddenly what he wanted to do more than anything. "I want to go and see Remus. Want to come?"

As they walked, they discussed the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, both having nothing but praise for their new professor. Ron also had words that were almost kind for his assigned partner. "You know," he said, looking up at the ceiling as if deep in thought, "as much as I hate to admit it, Zabini doesn't seem to be the epitome of evil that you would expect of a Slytherin. Today in DADA class he didn't even try to hex me - we just worked on the disarming spell. He was actually - pleasant." Ron grimaced a little as he said the last word.

The two Gryffindors reached Remus's quarters and spent an enjoyable hour telling him about their train ride, the Welcoming Feast, and their first Defence class with Professor Shacklebolt. Remus refused to tell them about his experience with the Ministry of Magic, but confirmed their suspicion that Umbridge was behind the new werewolf policies. Harry resolved inwardly to do whatever he could to get her fired.

They ate lunch with Hermione, but then left her again to head across the grounds to Hagrid's hut. The N.E.W.T. level Care of Magical Creatures class was small, but that only seemed to make Hagrid more comfortable. Harry was relieved that none of Malfoy's gang had chosen to continue the subject.

They spent the hour studying Jarveys, ferret-like creatures which were really quite amusing. Although not intelligent enough to carry on a conversation, they kept up a constant stream of rude phrases, over which Hagrid had to shout to be heard. Apparently, their only use was to repel garden gnomes, or as Hagrid joked, to repel unwanted guests. Ron remarked in an undertone to Harry that it was lucky Malfoy wasn't in the class since no one would be able to differentiate him from the Jarveys.

After class, they promised to visit Hagrid later and hurried to meet Hermione. As they entered the library, Ron reminded Harry of a particularly rude comment a Jarvey had made, and he burst out laughing, earning a glare from Madam Pince. He tried to stifle his mirth as they made their way to the table where Hermione was waiting.

"What are you laughing about?" she asked without looking up from her Arithmancy homework.

Ron's expression sobered immediately. "You don't want to know."

"Something from class," Harry put in.

"What are you studying?"

"Jarveys," Harry answered.

Hermione looked up at Harry, and then her gaze settled on Ron, who suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Rude phrases." She rolled her eyes and looked back down at her work. "Boys!"

Ron shifted in his seat a little and then pulled open his book bag. "Well, we may as well get started on that DADA essay."

"Speaking of Defence Against the Dark Arts," Hermione said, "guess what I heard?"

Harry's heart sank; he should have known the story would be all over school. He could feel his face redden as he said, "So what? I just asked her to walk with me!"

Hermione's eyes widened with surprise. "You asked who to walk with you?"

"Padma. Isn't that what you're talking about?"

"You asked a girl out, Harry?" Ron said with an idiotic grin. "Well done, mate!"

"Wait a minute," Hermione said. "That's not what I was talking about. Besides, I think Padma's going out with Terry Boot."

"So I found out," Harry said glumly. "Wait - what were you talking about?"

"Oh," said Hermione, obviously flustered, "well I heard that Professor Shacklebolt ambushed the seventh year N.E.W.T class. Started throwing hexes at them the moment they walked in the door."

"Wow!" said Ron. "Talk about a pop quiz. I guess we lucked out."

"Our class is too big to do that, thanks to Harry," Hermione said. "He would have been too outnumbered. The seventh year class is only half the size."

"Still," Ron said, pulling parchment out of his bag, "we'd better be on guard the rest of the year. He could always get some help."

Harry listened to his friends discuss the Defence class as he absently flipped through his book, relieved that the topic had turned away from his encounter with Padma. He vowed to never to humiliate himself in that way again, even if he had to end his life as a virgin.

*************************************

The next day Harry sincerely regretted his decision to continue Potions. He arrived early, not wanting to give Snape any reason to deduct points. Of course, Ron and Hermione wanted to be partners, so he sat with Seamus, who was the only other Gryffindor sixth year taking the class.

The Potions Master made it clear that he resented having to accept the students who had only achieved an "E" on their O.W.L. exam, which was the majority of the class, but he seemed to be especially aggrieved to be teaching Harry. He hovered near him during most of the double period, apparently trying to catch him doing something wrong. Harry felt badly for Seamus, who was also under the gun since he was partnering Harry, even though he had actually managed an "O" on his O.W.L.

Snape finally decided Harry wasn't shredding his knotgrass just so, and told him he could spend Friday evening shredding more for the first years to use. Harry turned to glare at Malfoy as he heard the familiar snicker behind him, and realized that the popular Slytherin was the only student without a partner, even though there were other Slytherins in the class. He shoved the thought aside to concentrate on the frothing concoction in his cauldron, but Snape seemed to have accomplished his goal and didn't bother him for the rest of the period.

The day improved during lunchtime, when Harry received a note from Professor Shacklebolt informing him that his first defence training session would take place that evening at seven o'clock. He was really looking forward to starting defence lessons with the Auror.

At six forty-five, Harry left Ron and Hermione to their Charms homework and walked quickly to his lesson. The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom had been cleared of all furniture. It reminded Harry eerily of a certain room in the Department of Mysteries, except that there was no stone dais. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat that had suddenly formed and started down to the centre of the room.

As he reached the bottom, Shacklebolt burst through the door and shouted, "Tarantallegra!" Harry struggled to keep his balance as his legs started to do a weird dance of their own accord, and finally fell to the ground with his legs still twitching. He whipped his wand out of his pocket and shouted the same hex back at the professor, who easily blocked it.

Shacklebolt held up his hands and laughed. "Truce?"

In answer, Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!" causing Shacklebolt's wand to fly neatly into his hand. "Now we'll have a truce," Harry said with a nod.

"I let you disarm me, you know."

"I know," Harry acknowledged, "but you've already taught me not to trust you."

"But how am I supposed to perform the counter-hex?" Shacklebolt asked, laughing harder and indicating Harry's still-twitching legs.

A laugh sounded from the doorway. "I'll do it," said Remus. He performed the counter-hex, and Harry leapt to his feet.

"So are you both ganging up on me then?" Harry asked, brandishing his wand with his right hand while clutching Shacklebolt's in his left.

Remus pocketed his wand and showed Harry his empty hands. Shacklebolt said, "We're just talking now, Harry, I give you my word."

Harry handed him his wand, but held his own ready until Shacklebolt's was safely in his pocket. He stuffed his wand into his own pocket and crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting for the professor to speak.

"I'm very impressed with your duelling skills and your reflexes, Harry," the Auror began. "Your reflexes are faster than most Auror trainees I've seen."

"That comes from Quidditch," Remus said. "Harry's an excellent Seeker - he's a natural. He's been playing on the House team since he was a first year."

Harry couldn't help beaming at the praise, but he felt compelled to say, "Well, I'm not fast enough. You can beat me easily."

Shacklebolt shrugged. "There's room for improvement, of course. That's why you're here. I'm going to start by showing you some exercises you can do daily to improve your reflexes. We'll also work on hexes, blocks, and shields, but I want you to be able to be able to physically dodge spells as well."

Two hours later, Harry went back to Gryffindor tower exhausted, but happy. It was going to be fun working with Professor Shacklebolt. He only wished he could feel so enthusiastic about Occlumency. He cleared his mind of all emotion and thought and fell immediately into a dreamless sleep.

**************************************************

"Well? How did it go?" Hermione asked, dragging her nose out of her book to look up at Harry, Ron, and Ginny as they trailed into the common room after Quidditch tryouts Thursday evening.

"I'm a Chaser!" Ginny replied, beaming.

"Yeah, and it wasn't even because she's my sister," said Ron. "She's almost as good as Katie."

"Who else made the team?" asked Hermione.

Ron sat next to his girlfriend and put his arm around her. Harry and Ginny looked at each other; Ginny rolled her eyes, and Harry tried not to laugh. He wasn't successful, because in the next moment, Hermione shouted, "Honestly, Ron! You need a shower!"

Ron, looking horribly affronted, scooted away from Hermione. Harry sat on Hermione's other side and said, "Andrew and Jack are still on the team, but we decided Andrew made a better Chaser than Beater. Jack's not great, but we think he'll do better with his new partner."

"Who is ...?" Hermione lead. She looked at Harry with a puzzled expression, and he tried unsuccessfully to fight down the blush he felt creeping up his face.

"Stacey Vorlavitz," Ginny said. "Harry, you're being silly. Just because she asked you out two years ago..."

"When was this?" Hermione asked, looking shocked.

Ron burst into laughter, and Harry scowled at him. He looked at his shoes and said, "She asked me to that Yule Ball during fourth year." He looked around and lowered his voice. "I turned her down because she was so much taller than me - I knew we'd look stupid dancing." Ginny joined in Ron's laughter, and Hermione looked as if she was trying not to smile. "She's a good Beater, though," Harry said a little defiantly, which only made Ginny and Ron laugh harder. Harry turned to reach for his book bag, ignoring his friends and pulling out his homework.

"Well, I'll talk to you all later," Ginny said when she had managed to stop laughing. She gave a jaunty wave and walked over to where Neville was studying.

Ron twisted his body around on the sofa to watch where she was going. "Neville?" he said to Harry and Hermione with a confused expression. "Why is she sitting with Neville?"

"She likes Neville," Hermione said with a shrug, turning her attention back to her book.

"She does?" Ron asked, looking even more bewildered. "Why?"

"He's nice, Ron," Hermione answered without looking up from her book, sounding a little exasperated. "And I think she was impressed at how brave he was at the end of last year."

"But he's so ... round!" Ron protested.

Harry glanced over at the couple and to his surprise, realized Ron was wrong. Neville's height was finally catching up with his weight.

"Wait a minute," Ron said, starting to look angry. "What do you mean he's nice?"

Harry saw Hermione roll her eyes, although she didn't look up from her book. "He's always been nice, Ron. I've always liked him."

Ron crossed his arms, and his face reddened. "So you'd rather go out with him than me?"

"Well," Hermione said, turning a page and continuing to read, "I'm sure he smells better than you right now."

"Fine!" Ron shouted. He thundered up the stairs to the dormitory, slamming the door behind him.

Harry struggled not to laugh. His best friends had always argued frequently, but it was funny that the debate topics had changed so drastically. He finally mumbled, "I guess I'd better shower, too," and headed upstairs after Ron.

The red-head was alone in the dormitory, sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. He acknowledged Harry's entrance by saying, "She's always liked Neville. Why didn't I see it before? She always helped him with Potions and stuff." He buried his face in his hands and said, "What should I do?"

"Take a shower. Then go back downstairs and - I don't know - kiss her or something - whatever you two do."

Ron looked up at Harry with a mixture of sadness and confusion. "But she likes Neville!"

"Don't be stupid," said Harry, trying hard not to roll his eyes. "She likes you, mate. She was just teasing you."

"Why would she do that?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe it annoyed her that you got jealous. Maybe she likes it when you get angry. I don't know. But you're really stupid if you let this mess up your ..." He threw his hands up in the air, trying to think of the appropriate word to describe his friends. "Your - relationship."

Ron gave him a small smile, nodded, and strode purposefully to the bathroom. Harry sighed in relief and flopped on his bed. After a moment he pulled out his books, resolving not to go back to the common room that evening. He didn't want to be there if Ron and Hermione argued again, and he certainly didn't want to be there if they made up.

********************************************************

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with excitement when Harry and Ron made their way down the dormitory stairs the next morning. "What's up?" Ron asked Dean, who was standing on his toes trying to read the notice on the bulletin board over the gathered throng.

Dean turned and beamed at Harry. "You didn't tell me you were continuing the DA, mate!"

Harry's eyes widened with alarm and he tried to drag Ron to the portrait hole before the crowd noticed he was there. However, Ron pulled his arm away and protested that he wanted to wait for Hermione, so Harry ducked his head and hurried to breakfast alone.

Ginny and Neville were the only two people he knew at the Gryffindor table, and he couldn't stomach sitting with a couple this morning, so he sat down alone and loaded his plate with sausages and toast. He had to admit to himself that he was excited about the Defence Association, despite wanting to avoid being the centre of attention that morning. Plans for the first meeting began to form in his mind, and he was a little startled when someone sat next to him.

"Good morning," said Lavender.

"You don't mind if we sit here, do you?" asked Parvati from across the table.

"Not at all," said Harry, feeling a little bewildered.

"I think it's brilliant that you're continuing the DA, Harry," said Lavender, her eyes wide with admiration.

"Yeah," agreed Parvati, nodding her head with an identical expression. "You're such a great teacher."

Harry couldn't help the huge grin that crept across his face or the warm feeling in his stomach. "Thanks," he murmured. He suddenly felt ravenous and attacked his breakfast with relish.

"Well done, Harry," said a voice behind him. He turned and looked up into the smiling faces of Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan. "We've got a decent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," continued Ernie, "but we could always use the extra practice."

"Especially after the attacks last summer," Justin put in, his expression clouding; the sixth year Hufflepuff was Muggle-born.

"So I take it the announcement was posted in all the Houses," Harry said. "Is everyone coming back?"

"Everyone I've talked to," answered Justin, "and quite a few new ones. It's open to all students fourth year and up."

Harry suddenly felt a bit nervous; there had only been twenty-eight in Dumbledore's Army. He wondered how many would come, and how he would handle them all.