Two weeks passed by with no notable events. Katie held four training sessions and her team had grown quite fond of having her as their captain, much to her surprise. She was much more comfortable with giving orders and correcting people now, and Hermione always hung around the stands for moral support. Harry, Ron and Chris wanted to watch, but the team weren't having it — saying that they were going to steal their tactics, which Katie supposed was quite a fair suspicion.

Harry's detentions with Umbridge were finally over, but the words I must not tell lies had been engraved so deeply into his skin that Katie was beginning to worry they would never fade at all. Katie's dreams had not returned to her since Harry had arrived at Grimmauld Place at the start of August, and so far, she had not touched any more objects that triggered obscene memories.

It was on one particularly gloomy Tuesday morning that, as Katie was making her way across the Entrance hall, she heard a distinct 'Psst!' from behind her. She turned around, eyebrows twisted together, but saw no one. There was a second 'Psst!' and the door to a broom cupboard momentarily opened a smidge, before abruptly shutting again. Fairly certain that her eyes were not deceiving her, Katie warily walked towards the broom cupboard, her wand gripped tightly in her hand beneath her robes.

Holding her breath, she pulled open the door to find a familiar head of red hair and another familiar head of bushy hair blaring back at her.

"Get in and shut the door." Hermione whispered hurriedly. Katie did as she was told. The broom cupboard was very compact and no more comfortable than it was spacious. Katie had to bend forward slightly to ensure that her head didn't scrape against the ceiling.

"What do you want?" Katie asked, followed by a hiss of pain as she hit her head off the low ceiling.

"What we want," Hermione said clearly, "is a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"That's nice, but it's a bit late now, isn't it? The old toad has already got the job." Katie replied sourly as she massaged the top of her head in an area that she was sure was going to turn into a prominent bump.

"Yes, but I was thinking it was time we take matters into our own hands — and keep your voice down, will you? We don't want to be found here."

Katie blinked confusedly at Hermione. She wasn't catching on to what Hermione was insinuating, but luckily, Hermione elaborated and Katie didn't need to feel embarrassed by asking any stupid questions.

"We need a teacher — a proper teacher," Hermione explained. "One who knows what he's doing, one that can correct us when we go wrong."

Katie quirked an eyebrow. "If you're talking about Lupin—"

"No, not Lupin. He's much too busy with the Order, anyway."

The confusion whirring within Katie was not mixing well with the ever-growing throbbing pain in her head.

"Who, then?" she asked.

Hermione sighed deeply. "Isn't it obvious? I'm talking about Harry."

Katie's expression remained entirely blank as her eyes repeatedly flickered between Hermione and Harry. Hermione definitely had made an excellent proposal — after all, Harry was the top in the year at Defence Against the Dark Arts, and he was possibly the only student in the school who had actually come face to face with the Dark Arts in real life.

"You think it's nutty, don't you?" Ron said after Katie had been silent for many moments.

"No," Katie said hastily. "No, I actually think it's a brilliant idea, Hermione. What did Harry say about it?"

Hermione and Ron simultaneously frowned and Katie felt her heart sink.

"Well... he was sort of reluctant..." Hermione said slowly, her eyes now averted to the ground. Ron spoke next before Katie had the chance.

"But we were hoping you would talk him into it, Katie." he said warily, as though he was scared Katie might hex him when she heard this suggestion.

Katie goggled at him. "Me?"

"He'll listen to you," Hermione said and, in response to Katie's raised eyebrows, went on. "Put it this way — he hasn't really snapped at you, has he?" Katie shook her head. "Exactly. And he has a go at Ron and me on the daily. You're the only one that can really get true to him, Katie."

Katie's mind worked hard for many moments. She glanced between Ron and Hermione, whose eyes were silently begging her to agree.

"Fine," Katie sighed out. "Fine, yeah, I'll talk to him."

During a free period, Katie asked Harry up to the clock tower to talk. He seemed rather reluctant, so Katie got the impression that he already knew what she was going to ask him.

Once they were in the clock tower and were sure that there was no one around to eavesdrop, they sat on the ledge as usual. Harry was the first to speak.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Katie swallowed thickly. "Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Harry heaved a great sigh and stared unresponsively into the horizon. Katie shuffled closer to him and leaned her head out over the railings so she could have a clear view of his face.

"Harry, I think it's a great idea—"

"Of course you do," Harry cut her off. "You're not the one who's being asked to teach a bunch of people who think you're a nutter."

Katie frowned. Convincing Harry was going to be a lot harder than she had expected.

"I think you'd be surprised by how many people that would be willing to listen to you,"

she said, and when Harry didn't respond, she resumed. "Look, it's like you said to Umbridge, we need to be prepared to face what's out there, and if Umbridge refuses to teach us we need someone who will. No one is better than you, Harry. You've really been there."

"How so?" Harry asked.

Katie have him an are-you-serious look.

"You're having a laugh, right?" she said. Harry shook his head. "Harry, when you were eleven you saved the Philosopher's Stone—"

"That was just luck."

"When you were twelve you killed the Basilisk, got rid of Riddle and saved Ginny—"

"I couldn't have done that without Hermione."

"When you were thirteen, you fought off a hundred Dementors at once—"

"You know that was a fluke—"

"You won the Triwizard Tournament, for Merlin's sake! You fought You-Know-Who! You escaped from him!"

"Stop!" Harry snapped suddenly. "That could've just as easily been Cedric. If Voldemort didn't need me, he would've killed me right when he killed Cedric."

"Harry—"

"I didn't get away because I'm some great, powerful wizard," Harry continued angrily. "I knew I was going to die in that graveyard. I got away purely by luck. You don't know what it's like out there." he added with a shiver.

"That's why we need you, Harry," Katie said quietly. "You're the only person that really knows what he's doing."

Harry opened his mouth as though he was going to argue but promptly decided against it. Then, with a great exhale that sounded oddly like a groan, he said, "Fine. I'll do it."

***

"Where are we going, anyway?" Katie asked as she, Harry, Ron and Hermione traipsed through Hogsmeade one bitter Saturday in October. "The Three Broomsticks?"

"Oh, no," Hermione answered. "No, it's much too noisy and loads of people hang around there. We could easily be overheard. I told everyone to meet us in that other pub, it's not on the main street. It's called the Hog's Head and, while it is a little... dodgy... we can be sure that we won't be overheard there."

The Hog's Head was, as Hermione had described, very dodgy. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture on it of a wild boar's severed head, leaking blood onto the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All four of them hesitated outside the door.

"Well, come on." Hermione said, slightly nervously. Harry led the way inside.

It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised of one small, dingy and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could penetrate the room, which was lit instead with stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be compressed earth, though as Katie stepped on it she realised that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.

"Cosy." Katie said sarcastically. Hermione gave her a piercing look.

The barman sidled towards them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard. He was tall and thin and looked vaguely familiar to Katie, but she couldn't place her finger on who he might be.

"What?" he grunted.

"Three Butterbeers, please." Hermione said.

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

"Six Sickles."

"I'll get them." Harry said quickly, passing over the silver and taking the bottles. The four of them then retreated to the furthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around.

"How many people did you say were meeting us here?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Just a few," Hermione responded in a very unconvincing tone. Katie and Ron raised their eyebrows at each other. "Oh, look, this might be them now."

The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people.

First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe, then, on her own and looking so dreamy she might have walked in by accident, Luna Lovegood. Next came Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, with Christian Blair, Niall Murray and Oscar Whiterose close on their tails, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, three Ravenclaws named Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Terry Boot, then Ginny, followed by a tall skinny blonde boy with an upturned nose whom Katie recognised vaguely as being a member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and lastly, Fred and George Weasley and Lee Jordan.

"A couple of people?" Harry hissed at Hermione. "A couple of people?"

"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," Hermione responded brightly. "Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?"

The barman had frozen in the act of wiping a glass with a rag so dirty it looked as though it had never been washed. Possibly, he had never seen his pub so full.

"Hi," Fred grinned, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly, "could we have... twenty eight Butterbeers please?"

The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in something very important, he started passing dusty bottles from under the bar.

"Cheers," Fred said happily. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these..."

Once everyone had settled down around the table, their eyes all fixed eagerly on Harry, Hermione cleared her throat and started speaking, her voice high-pitched out of nerves.

"Well — er — hi."

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

"So, you ll know why we're here," Hermione continued. "We need a teacher... a proper teacher, one who's had real experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts."

"Why?" the tall, blonde Hufflepuff boy snapped suddenly and rather aggressively.

"Why?" Ron repeated just as venomously. "Because You-Know-Who's back, you toshpot."

"So he says." the Hufflepuff said, nodding his head towards Harry.

"So Dumbledore says." Katie corrected firmly.

"So Dumbledore says because he says," the blonde pressed, "the point is, where's the proof?"

"Who are you, anyway?" Ron growled at him.

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

"Look," Hermione intervened swiftly, "that's not really what this meeting was supposed to be about—"

"It's OK, Hermione," Harry whispered. "What makes me say he's back?" Harry 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 won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

The whole group seemed to have held its breath when Harry spoke. It was clear that a handful of them had no interest in a Defence group and had only really turned up with the hope of hearing Harry's story firsthand.

There was a long pause, then Michael Corner spoke.

"If you could tell us more about how Diggory got killed—"

"I'm not going to talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're here you might as well clear out now." Harry then turned to Hermione and muttered something that Katie couldn't hear. Harry made to leave his seat, but then—

"Is it true you can produce a Patronus?" Luna asked.

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this. Harry stared, slightly stunned, at Luna, and when he didn't respond to her question, Hermione did it for him.

"Yes," she stated firmly. "I've seen it."

"Blimey, Harry! I didn't know you could do that!" Lee breathed wondrously, looking deeply impressed.

"And in our first year," Neville annouced to the group at large, "he saved that Philological Stone—"

"Philosopher's." Hermione hissed.

"Yes, that — from You-Know-Who." Neville finished.

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

"Er — yeah, I did, yeah."

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled; the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks and Lavender Brown said "Wow!" softly.

"Third year, he fought off about a hundred Dementors at once." Ron said proudly.

"Not to mention, he got through the Triwizard Tournament last year." Cho piped up.

"And last year he really did fight off You-Know-Who in the flesh." Katie finished. The room fell silent after this.

"Wait," Harry said hastily. "Look, it all sounds great when you say it like that, but, the truth is, most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I nearly always had help—"

"He's just being modest." Hermione shook her head.

"No, Hermione, I'm not," Harry countered sternly. "Facing this stuff in real life is not like school. In school if you make a mistake you can just try again tomorrow, but out there, when you're a second away from being murdered, or watching a friend die right before your eyes... you don't know what that's like."

"You're right, Harry, we don't," Hermione said softly. "That's why we need your help. Because if we're going to have any chance of beating... V-Voldemort..."

Katie's eyes flashed towards Hermione. This was the first time she had ever heard her say his name.

The room went quiet once more. Everyone was either staring sadly at their shoes or at Harry.

"Moving on..." Hermione broke the silence hesitantly. "Are we all agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement. Hermione, looking relieved that something had finally been decided, reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill.

Shockingly, everyone in the room wrote their name on the parchment, including Zacharias Smith.

Hermione folded up the piece of parchment, looking very smug, and placed it carefully inside her bag as everyone got up to leave. Katie stared at her sceptically.

"You jinxed the parchment, didn't you?" Katie asked warily.

"Let's just say," Hermione said in a low voice, leaning across the table, an ever-growing smirk on her face, "that if anyone who signed goes blabbing to Umbridge, they'll make Eloise Midgen's acne look like a couple of freckles..."

"So, where are we going to have the lessons?" Ron questioned as the four of them stepped outside. The cold wind whipped around them and blew Katie's hair into her eyes.

"The Shrieking Shack?" she suggested through a mouthful of hair.

"No, it's too small." Harry sighed.

"We could use a classroom?" Hermione proposed. "McGonagall let us use her room last year so you could practice for the Tournament, remember, Harry?"

"Yeah, but it's not exactly a homework club we're setting up, is it?" Harry responded dryly.

"We'll figure something out," Katie said, slinging her arms around both Harry and Ron, "but for now, I'm in desperate need of some chocolate."

***

Honeydukes was packed with students, as it usually was during the school's Hogsmeade visits. Katie and Ron had collected quite a large amount of sweets, giving the fact that it would be over a month until their next visit to the village and they needed to stock up. Hermione disapproved of their act of gluttony, which was evident by the way she folded her arms, scowled at them and clicked her tongue impatiently every few seconds. She looked as though she was desperate to tell them off but didn't want to cause a scene.

"Ever tried Cockroach Cluster?" Katie asked as she and Ron examined the Unusual Tastes shelves.

"No, and I don't fancy it, either." Ron answered with a look of disgust at the jar of Cockroach Cluster that Katie was brandishing in front of him.

"Are you two done yet?" Hermione snapped suddenly, her eyes narrowing on the large amounts of sweets that Ron and Katie were cradling in their arms.

"Er — well — another few Chocolate Frogs couldn't hurt, could they?" Katie said sheepishly, but stood down upon receiving a hard and warning glare from Hermione.

***

The moment that Katie stepped out of her dormitory the next morning, she was almost knocked flat. Her Quidditch team had practically thrown themselves on top of her — each of them bombarding her with frantic yells.

"All right, all right, all right!" Katie shouted. "One at a time, please."

Graham Montague seized her arm and dragged her across the common room to the notice board, which was surrounded by a group of muttering people. Graham shoved through the crowd to give Katie a clear path to whatever had caught the attention of almost the entirety of Slytherin house.

A large sign had been affixed to the Slytherin noticeboard, so large it covered everything else on it — the lists of second-hand spellbooks for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Filch, the Quidditch team training timetable, the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog Cards for others, the dates of Hogsmeade weekends and the lost and found notices. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.

𝗕𝗬 𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗛 𝗜𝗡𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗢𝗥 𝗢𝗙

𝗛𝗢𝗚𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦