Lost and Found...Love

Chapter 4

Duck! Duck! Move!

Thursday afternoon, the sixth year N.E.W.T.s. class entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom straight from their N.E.W.T.s. Charms class with Professor Flitwick. It was going to be a double period class and they had been looking forward to this first session. All were members of the D.A., as no other students had gotten sufficiently good marks, in the practical portion of their O.W.L. level exams taken in June, for placement in the N.E.W.T.s. level class.

However, the sixth year Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which had met that morning, had been assured by Professor Twigg-Jones that she would be able to bring them up to snuff in no time. She also had the news that due to the circumstances of their previous year's instruction, or lack of, they have been given special permission, from the Ministry of Magic, to retake the practical part of the O.W.L. exam at term break, if they so desired. Also, anyone receiving an E or O grade could then join the N.E.W.T.s. level class.

"This is going to be my favorite class this year," Ron announced as they made their way to their seats. "I just know we're going to be learning all kinds of cool stuff."

"I certainly hope so, Mr. Weasley, because you're dead." Professor Twigg-Jones' voice caused them all to spin around. Perched above the door, she had her wand out and was pointing it at them. "All of you, actually. Not one of you was aware of my presence behind you. Bang! Bang! You're dead."

They noticed she was dressed in sweatpants, t-shirt and sneakers instead of her usual gown and robe. Jumping lightly down onto one of the bookcases, then to the floor, she sauntered down the aisle toward her desk.

"Please sit down. I've a few things to explain to you about this class."

"She sounded like Mad-Eye Moody there for a minute," Ron whispered to Harry as they took their seats.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley, I consider that a compliment," Anna commented, as she passed their desk.

"Oh, ah, sorry, Professor, no disrespect meant," Ron stammered, blushing at the realization that she had heard him.

"None taken, I know you intended it in the best way possible. I used to think Mad-Eye .. Professor Moody...was a bit odd when he was teaching me at Auror School. Brilliant, but a right nutter."

The students all laughed, though a bit nervously.

"I know that the 'Professor Moody' you had here in your fourth year was an imposter," Anna acknowledged, "but, from what I understand, he did teach you quite a lot and you were actually a bit ahead of schedule, that year, as far as knowing advanced spells and defensive actions.

"The real Mad-Eye and I have discussed what you would need as requirements for your N.E.W.T.s. course work this year and," pausing, she looked around before finishing the sentence, "what we thought would be helpful for preparing all of you for what is going to happen in all of our futures.

"Voldemort." Harry said under his breath.

"Exactly, Mr. Potter." She smiled as Harry looked up at her in surprise. "I'm blessed with supersensitive hearing. Although sometimes I have heard things I wish I hadn't, but, never mind."

Hermione put up her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"When .. I mean .. well .. how bad do you think it's going to be when Voldemort attacks, or if he attacks, since some of the Death Eaters are back in Azkaban?"

"When? I'd say he will wait till the ones in Azkaban break out or are liberated by the ones who are still on the loose. He's nothing if not patient, Voldemort. I'm sure his followers are recruiting new Death Eaters as we speak.

"How bad?" Anna scratched her ear, thinking for a moment. "I can't easily explain to you how bad it will be. Be prepared for the worst and go downhill from there, for a start."

Several of the students exchanged worried looks but all listened intently.

"The one thing all of you need to understand is this ..." She took a deep breath and looking around at their young, eager faces, told them the truth. "No matter how good your spell work, how much you have practiced, how 'ready for anything' you think you are, when you are faced with a Dark Wizard, who will think nothing of killing you, you must be able to react, WITHOUT HESITATION, to defend yourself or, if need be, to kill that person to save your own life or the lives of others. I know that sounds harsh and unfeeling, but it is the reality we are facing. Those of you who were at the Ministry in June have had to do just that, so you understand a bit better. We ARE in a war."

"It's no fun, hearing someone yell 'kill them' to other people chasing you." Neville shivered at the memory. "I can vouch for that."

"True, Mr. Longbottom." Anna smiled at him encouragingly, nodding in agreement. "It can paralyze you with fear if you aren't prepared. People, good people, are going to die if we are not ready. I'm not saying you lot are being trained to save everyone but if you can contribute your skills and courage to this fight, well, every little bit will count and help.

"Our one advantage," she continued, leaning forward, "is that Voldemort may have underestimated all of you, and your abilities. He may have dismissed the survival of six students at the Ministry of Magic to bungling on the part of his Death Eaters, the arrival of trained Aurors and Professor Dumbledore, or just dumb luck on your parts. Good." She sat up and grinned. "I hope he does.

"If I can train you, at the very least, to help defend your own families, or, at the worst, be ready to take part in a full fledged battle, you may well be the extra advantage the Wizarding community will need to defeat him once and for all.

"I don't mean to scare you overly, or dump too much on your shoulders at the first class, but the sooner you accept these facts in your life, the sooner you'll start your training in the proper frame of mind."

Professor Twigg-Jones saw them nodding. They all looked determined, with a new understanding and acceptance of their role giving them a bit of courage and added determination.

"We're talking about the survival of our world, people," she emphasized, "and you can be an important part of making sure it continues. But the war has started and the worst is yet to happen. I know you're young, but I was just a couple of years older than you are now, the last time, when Harry's parents were killed. I fought beside Neville's Mum and Dad and saw a lot of things that someone your age shouldn't have to see, but no doubt will. With good hard work and a little luck, we will all get though this together, alive."

There was a long minute of silence.

"So much for the good news, Professor," Harry stage whispered, grinning at her. "Now, let's hear the bad news."

Laughing, Anna took a step and reached out to ruffle Harry's perpetually tousled hair. "Spoken like a true Potter, Harry.

"Right," Anna continued as she sat on the corner of her desk. "I've got to lighten up a bit. So, let's look on the bright side. We're safe from Voldemort at Hogwarts. Relax and enjoy your time here, your lessons, training, and most of all, your friends. Laugh, have fun, cheer your Quidditch team, gossip, go on a date to Hogsmeade." She glanced around as that comment brought out a few snickers and blushes. "Yes, been there, done that. Anyway, try to treat school as just that; school, not boot camp. You'll be training hard, but this is just another class, so treat it as such. That way, what we do in here will be another advantage we have."

"Keep the Slytherins in the dark as to what we're doing, you mean?" Ernie MacMillian asked.

Anna leaned forward and whispered, "That, too!" Putting her finger to her lips and shushing. The students grinned. "Next June will come soon enough. Now .. leave your books and robes on your desks and follow me."

X # X # X

Looking at each other, they shrugged their shoulders, dumped their books and robes and then trooped out the door in her wake. Within a few minutes, it became apparent where they were headed. Arriving outside of the Room of Requirement, Anna opened the door and bowed them in.

"Blimey, that's a one big glass box," exclaimed Ron, stopping dead in his tracks.

A good two thirds of the room was taken up by the structure, which extended from side to side and floor to ceiling, with about a foot of space left to walk around the sides and back. A set of bleachers sat facing the nearest side, for observing the action within the box.

"Don't be daft, Weasley, that's Plexiglas, that is," chided Justin Finch-Fletchley, reaching out and rapping on the side with his knuckles.

"It looks like a see-through squash court...sort of," Hermione suggested, as the students spread out to look at the strange 'teaching tool' before them, tapping the sides and running their hands over the cool, smooth surface.

"Close, Miss Granger. It is a practice court," conceded Professor Twigg-Jones, entering behind the class, then closing and locking the door.

"Practice for what? Wimbledon?" Seamus laughingly asked, pointing to a box of tennis balls sitting by the nearest wall.

"No, not for tennis, Mr. Finnigan, it's for practicing defensive maneuvers."

"I don't get it."

"I'm going to train all of you to move, dodge, duck and hopefully avoid being hit by spells shot at you from all angles. Ok, who are Muggle born?" Anna asked. Hands were held up. "Do you lot remember playing dodge ball?"

"Sure" "Yeah" "Of course" "Why?"

"That's what we have here. A dodge the spell practice court."

Walking up to the box, Professor Twigg-Jones tapped the side with her wand and a door appeared. Picking up one of the tennis balls, she opened the door and tossed it in. It proceeded to bounce around the inside of the box, ricocheting off the walls and top, without losing momentum and rolling to a stop as a normal tennis ball would do. It wasn't moving at the same rate of speed as if hit by a tennis racket, but at a good steady pace, none the less.

"Think of this tennis ball as a small, and considerably softer, bludger. Observe."

Stepping through and then closing the door behind her, Anna walked to the center of the box, turning to keep the ball in sight, bending, swaying and ducking out of the way as it careened around.

"Doesn't look too hard to do, does it? Now, this is the speed of the average spell." She waved her wand and the bright yellow sphere tripled its speed.

Professor Twigg-Jones was moving at an equally increased pace but she stayed in the center and easily avoided being hit. She caught the ball and the students applauded.

Stepping out of the box she smiled ruefully and shook her head. "No, don't applaud, that was just the basics. Simple stuff I expect all of you to be able to do."

Holding up the ball she looked at it and then tossed it back in the box, where it proceeded to bounce around at its original speed.

"That's a tennis ball. At the most, it'll give you a bruise; it won't hurt or kill you. Spells can. Having the reflexes to move out of the way is one of the most important skills I'm going to teach you. So, who wants to try?"

"I'll give it a go, Aunt...I mean Professor." Neville stepped forward.

"Fine Neville .. I mean Mister Longbottom." She smiled at him. "Let's see how you do. I'll time you. One minute."

Neville entered the box.

"You don't have to stay in the middle, you can move around, but don't take you eyes off the ball."

Neville frowned in concentration as he turned, ducked, dodged and spun. He was doing quite well until he backed into the wall, lost his focus and nearly got hit on his leg, jumping sideways at the last second.

"Time!" Professor Twigg-Jones shouted.

Looking slightly winded but happy with his performance, Neville headed toward the door, only to have the tennis ball flash past him, an inch in front of his nose on its way across the box. Reaching in, Professor Twigg-Jones grabbed him and pulled him out.

"Constant vigilance, Neville!"

He looked at her and grinned, as the rest of the class gathered around to congratulate him on his performance. Then, one by one, they each took a turn in the practice box, first for one minute and then the whole class had a go for two minutes each. The tennis ball made only one or two hits.

X # X # X

"Very good, all of you, for a first session," Professor Twigg-Jones congratulated them as the last student exited the box. "But remember, there will be a slow increase in the speed of that tennis ball over the next two months. It will be gradual, but your reaction speed will increase at the same rate. Trust me; you'll hardly notice and when, in a month or so, I show you the speed at which you started you'll be amazed. Then we'll move on to multiple tennis balls, obstacles, and other people in the box with you. Let me give you a quick demonstration of what you'll be able to do."

Grabbing half a dozen tennis balls, she entered the box and conjured up a large crate and a couple of chairs. Taking one tennis ball after another, she threw them in different directions, her head turning from side to side to watch their paths around the box.

To the class the balls, which were traveling at spell speed, were blurs of yellow, but Professor Twigg-Jones merely twisted, turned and then rolled over the top of the crate, landing on her feet. Then stepping up on one of the chairs, she came down on the other side, rolling on the floor, hopped up, and finally, turned sideways as three of the tennis balls converged on her position. Anna then stepped up on the seat of the other chair, cart wheeled across the crate and jumped down again.

Walking back toward the door, ducking once or twice before turning to face the center, she caught the six yellow "bludgers" and exited the practice box, dropping them in the storage container. Professor Twigg-Jones was met by stony silence. Then ..

"BLOODY HELL!" Ron gasped. "There's no way we can move like that."

"Not now, but you will, Mr. Weasley, you will. All of you will, AND it will become second nature. Dodge ball will never be the same." She looked around and smiled at them. "Trust me, I never thought I could do it either, when I was first shown, but now, it's what I do if something comes at me, a purely instinctive move that I've honed to a fine art, even if I do say so myself. Seriously, it will get easier as you get into your training. Don't underestimate yourselves. I'm not...I know you can all do it."

"We will do that and anything else you want us to learn. We must; it's what we promised ourselves when we started the D.A. and we're not going to stop now," Neville announced, as he came up and put his arm around Professor Twigg-Jones' shoulder.

"Thank you, Neville." She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Right, Neville." "Well said." "Here, here!" "I agree, Neville." "Blimey!"

"Now, where was I? ...Oh, yes, since this is a double class in the afternoon, I want you to dress in something a little more appropriate to this kind of activity. When we get back to the classroom, there's a piece of parchment on my desk with your names on it. Write down you clothing sizes; pants and shirt. I'm going to supply you with a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. Do you all have a pair of sneakers, or other rubber soled shoes? Good, wear them also.

"Professor Flitwick has agreed that you can be a few minutes late to his class in order to give you time to go to your dormitories after lunch to change. He doesn't mind you being out of uniform in his class because he knows what your next class entails. Don't be too late, mind, as he's doing this as a favor to me." She added with a chuckle, "Please do as I say, not as I do, ok? Now, let's go back to the classroom."

"Professor, aren't we going to be doing spells?" asked Lavender Brown.

"Oh, of course, but that will come later. I'm more concerned with you learning about the physical side of defense at this point. This class is already ahead in spells and we'll be able to practice and re-enforce them during the D.A. meetings and you'll be adding more spells in Charms class, too. That is what I want to talk to you all about when we get back to the classroom. Shall we?" As she unlocked the door to the hall and ushered them out of the Room of Requirement and back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Juggling schedules

"How'd the first session go?" a voice inquired as Professor Twigg-Jones walked to her desk.

"Who was that?" Pavarti Patil looked around. "There's nobody here but us, is there?"

"Just my late husband; let me introduce you." Pointing back over their heads, she indicated the portrait on the back wall.

Doctor Jones was folding up a newspaper and laid it on the table beside his chair.

"Christopher .. my sixth year N.E.W.T.s class. Class .. Doctor Christopher Jones, my late darling husband. He's been puttering around the school all week, meeting the other portraits and the teachers also, in our lounge, so get used to seeing him; he's an insufferable busybody."

"Oh, that's hardly fair," Christopher objected. "I just have a healthy curiosity about this school."

"Right...anyway, we did have a good start, to answer your question. I expect they'll do quite well, with a little training."

"Splendid! Just wanted to check how it all went. So, hello all .. and goodbye. I'm off to take the dogs for a run. Ta!"

He headed into the landscape painting, followed closely by the two labs.

X # X # X

"Now," Anna continued as they settled themselves in their seats, "let's talk about the D.A. and how we're going to manage to hold meetings, recruit new members, and keep you from getting too over-worked or over-extended, what with all your homework, Quidditch team practice, other activities, etc. It is going to take a bit of juggling; bit of a logistical nightmare, come to that."

Professor Twigg-Jones leaned against the front of her desk and crossed her arms, looking around at the students, waiting for ideas or discussion.

"Quidditch practice is going to be the biggest problem, I think. And we haven't had our first team meetings yet. They're scheduled for this weekend," Harry pointed out, "so, that's when we'll learn when the practice times and games have been scheduled, Professor."

"Well, we won't know who will want to join, anyway, till the following weekend, as I plan to have sign up notices put on the common room bulletin boards tomorrow, giving those who might want to join one week to make up their minds," Anna pointed out.

"I imagine the rest of the sixth and some of the seventh years will sign up. Any of the fourth and fifth years who sign up, I'll have to evaluate individually to see what skill level they have reached. But I can do that without them knowing," she explained, "while they are in their regular Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. I don't think anyone under fourth year has enough experience, excepting Dennis Creevey and possibly his brother, to be allowed to join. I'll talk to them myself, in the next day or so.

"Keeping all that in mind, why don't we have a meeting of all the original D.A. members next Sunday afternoon, to divide up into groups?" Anna suggested. "Miss Edgecombe can tell Miss Chang and Miss Lovegood. Harry, you can give the news to the Creevey brothers and Ginny Weasley."

"What about the Slytherins?" Zacharias Smith asked in a low tone.

"If the signup notice itself survives, and a member of Slytherin House wants to join, they may do so. I'm not holding my breath. Professor Snape asked me if his House members would be allowed to join, and I told him yes. However, he didn't seem to think that there'd be a rush for quills in their common room. That's the least of our problems; Malfoy and company." She shook her head and the students nodded agreement.

"Anyway, once I get the signup lists back, we can 'crunch our numbers' so to speak. I think if we divide into small groups, it will be easier managed, plus less intimidating for the younger students and less embarrassing for the older ones. We don't want anyone to think they have to join or that we would think any less of them if they choose not to join."

"You think some will be too scared to join, Professor?" asked Neville. "It is like volunteering for the army."

"Precisely, Mr. Longbottom. Some students just aren't ready, and that's ok, too. I'll make sure everyone understands that. However, the Fifth years with O.W.L.s. and the Seventh years with the N.E.W.T.s exams looming over them next Spring will be the most willing to join, if only for the extra practice. That's where we might possibly pick up one or two Fifth year Slytherins, but again, I'm won't be surprised if their sign up notice just mysteriously disappears. Poof!"

"Why wouldn't they join the D.A., just to spy on us and see what we're up to?" Seamus voiced his concern.

"They know what we're doing, Mr. Finnigan. It's all in the course books; spells, defensive moves, counter moves. It's the practical, actual physical aspect that's important. That's why they think it's a waste of time. Memorizing spells and incantations is their forte. Very well versed in spells, Slytherins, but no practical application or practice. That is foolish, in my opinion." Anna shook her head.

"Anyone can memorize a cake recipe, but if you've never been in a kitchen and you're asked to bake a cake, you'd look a bit silly trying to figure it all out. Beep, time's up, you lose." Laughter greeted that mind picture.

"In other words, it's the Slytherin' ego, superiority complex, attitude...call it what you will. It's their 'pure blood' mania that blinds them to the advantages of a group such as the D.A. PLUS, have some ex-Auror, who 'gasp' was married to a MUGGLE; try to give them instructions on how to defend themselves against the very thing their families have practiced for generations?" Anna paused and shook her head. "I'm sorry. That was wrong of me to paint all of the Slytherins with such a broad brush stroke of malice. I apologize." Professor Twigg-Jones looked down, frowning. "I let my personal feelings towards certain Slytherin House alumni get in the way."

"No apology needed, Professor. We're well aware of the history of Slytherin House and its members," Hermione spoke up. "All of us have had their 'attitude' throw in our faces at some time or other."

"Professor, remind me to tell you about the time Hermione clocked Draco for being just a little too cocky," Ron stage whispered to Anna.

"RON! Shut it, will you. Ignore him, Professor!" Hermione blushed and swatted Ron on the arm.

"Girl after my own heart, are you Miss Granger?" Professor Twigg-Jones laughed. "We'll compare notes later."

The bell rang.

"What time is it? Oh my goodness, it's later then I thought, but no surprise there, eh? Let's keep the practice box our class secret, though, shall we? Don't want to raise questions or worry anyone un-necessarily." She wiggled her eyebrows and dawning understanding of her meaning put smiles on all of their faces.

"Can't have Malfoy losing any beauty sleep over this class, now can we?" Ron snickered.

"Or Pansy Parkinson," Hermione added.

"Too late!" Pavarti Patil shot back, which broke up the class.

"Meeeow! Rhymes with cow or so I've heard." Professor Twigg-Jones gave them a wicked grin. "Well, be sure and write down your sizes for me and then you can go. Class dismissed!"

X # X # X

Ten days later, the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom looked like a dumping ground; balled up pieces of parchment, empty butter beer bottles and bowls with a few crumbs of popcorn, cookies, and pumpkin tarts in the bottoms lay scattered about. The D.A. members were lounging around on piles of cushions, the desks having been moved against the walls, with quills in hand, copying the schedule Professor Twigg-Jones was re-writing on the chalkboard.

"There! I think we've finally got it straight! Does anyone see anything out of wack with this mess," jerking her thumb at the diagram on the board. She closed her eyes and winced, waiting for someone to find a flaw, and then opening one eye, looked around and gave a big sigh of relief, "Thank God!" and collapsed on her chair.

Chuckles and a smattering of applause greeted that statement.

"It was just the two groups who only signed up for extra practice for O.W.L.s. and N.E.W.T.s. exams that messed us up," Cho Chang observed.

"Well, it's like I said last week, we didn't want to scare anyone off by making them think they were being trained just to fight Voldemort. I'm glad we added that little bit about the exam practice option to the sign up notices. We may have picked up most of those two groups just because of that reassurance. It makes more work for some of you, and I'll just thank you in advance for that extra effort."

"If we are going to be taking the exams, we may as well get the extra practice, too," Luna shrugged. "Only logical, two birds with one stone and all that."

"That schedule is a work of art, if I do say so myself." Professor Twigg-Jones stood back to admire the grid showing a week's worth of times and groups. "Now remember, if your Quidditch practice is changed or rescheduled for any reason, tell me straight-away and we'll just move that group's practice to Thursday at 7:30 PM, or if it's the Hufflepuff team practice being changed, you can use the Sunday afternoon spot."

"All done?" Doctor Jones entered his portrait and regarded the finished schedule. "My, that looks like you all have been doing a fair bit of schedule tweaking."

"You have no idea, dear. Where have you been, then?"

"I was at a whist party with the Fat Lady .. I call her 'Pinky' .. her friend Violet and Headmaster Dippett. Jolly good time we had, too. Those ladies are ruthless card players," he laughed.

"In other words, they beat you rather badly?" Professor Twigg-Jones tilted her head at him, smiling.

"Pounded us into the ground." Dr. Jones hung his head, shaking it sadly.

"Well, take a page from our book, and practice, practice, practice!" she said with great seriousness, although her eyes are twinkling.

"Oh, go on with you. Hello, all." He looked around at the D.A. members, who nodded and waved hello. "Finally get your ducks in a row?"

"Just now finished, Uncle Christopher, and it looks like it'll work." Neville got up and stretched. "We'll find out soon enough."

"How do you like Hogwarts so far, Dr. Jones?" Hermione asked, as she got up off the floor and worked the kinks out of her legs.

"It's HUGE and I've given up trying to count stairs cases. I'll just have to take Anna's word that there's one hundred and forty two. I've met some very interesting people and a few strange creatures and I'm not just talking animals, either!"

That comment was greeted with laughs and giggles.

"So, when do you start the new and improved, well, expanded, D.A.? The improvement will come with time, what?" Christopher inquired, leaning against the frame's edge, arms crossed.

"Tomorrow evening; so let me make copies of the master schedule, before all of you leave and you can post them on your common room bulletin boards to alert our new members." Anna answered him.

With a wave of her wand, three quills began dipping themselves into her ink well, and then started scratching across three large pieces of parchment on her desk, covering them with the schedule; names of groups, members, times, notices about what to do if the schedule was changed, what to wear and most importantly, where the room of requirement was located.

Rolling the parchments up, she handed one to Cho Chang, one to Justin Finch-Fletchley and the third to Dennis Creevey.

"Get those up as soon as you get back to your common rooms, so everyone will see it when they get back from dinner tonight."

The D.A. members filed out, waving to Professor Twigg-Jones and Dr. Jones, also. He smiled and returned the farewells.

X # X # X

Alone at last, Anna waved her wand and the crumpled pieces of parchment flew into the trash bin, the cushions sailed across the room into a large box, while the desks slide back to their proper places.

"I never fail to find your doing those little bits of magic just fascinating. If you, meaning witches in general, are so good at it, why would you need house elves?" Christopher put his feet up on the ottoman in front of his favorite chair."

"Why do Muggles have maids, butlers, housekeepers and cooks? Most witches feel they have better things to do with their time. My Mother and our house elf, Daisy, split the chores, mainly because, being a Muggle, she didn't want to get too spoiled by magic. That really pleased my Father, as he'd been warned a Muggle wife would take advantage of having a house elf and turn into a lazy lump. Daisy did the housekeeping and helped raise me and Mother did the cooking, except for parties, when the two of them worked side by side. It also gave Mother more time in her garden, which pleased her no end. It was her pride and joy." Anna smiled at the memory. "Too bad I didn't inherit her green thumb."

"Speaking of cooking..."

"I'm way ahead of you, Christopher, I've been keeping an eye on the time, so I'll just go change and be only a minute or two late for dinner, maybe even on time, if I stop chatting with you and hurry."

"Oh, no, you're not using me as an excuse for your repeated tardiness."

"I don't intend to," she retorted as she walked up the stairs to her chambers, "because I'll not be drawn into a discussion about it, or anything else with you right now. There!" Entering her chamber doorway, she turned, stuck out her tongue at him and closed the door firmly.

Dr. Jones laughed, then stood and calling the dogs to follow him, walked into the landscape painting and out into the woods.