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At first, Harry was skeptical about the whole ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ idea. But after Hermione’s firm insistence and Ron’s lukewarm support he was convinced.
He was surprised at the number of students that took part in the meetings. They came because of the rumors that always preceded him. Some to attempt to break the usual boredom of the school. They looked at Harry expecting miracles. Miracles that he couldn’t give them. But he would try. Because he knew what awaited them all. He still remembered the night at Graveyard vividly. He remembered it in his dreams, the sight of Cedric’s dead eyes, Pettigrew’s shriek and the green light. They shook him awake every night. And so, he stayed up, reading Defense textbooks and preparing new lesson plans for the DA meetings. He would not admit it to himself but he did start to enjoy it.
Hermione, of course, volunteered to help. Every day they worked together, perfecting lesson plans and spells. Harry have found himself devouring book after book on Defense theory and practice. They discussed them, long into the night when everyone had gone off to sleep. At times Harry began to help Hermione with magically knitting the little caps and scarfs for the house elves.
That night was no different. Hermione and Harry, like they often did, stayed in the common room long past midnight. Sitting side by side on the couch, both of them busy with their tasks. Sometimes talking and jesting, sometimes enjoying the possibility of being silent together. Ron on the other hand, disappeared often. Where to, he wouldn’t say.
“I still can’t get this right,” groaned Harry with irritation. A pile of cotton threads laid on the floor in front of him.
Hermione gently grabbed his arm and carefully guided it while Harry muttered an incantation. Soon enough a brand new scarf lay on the table.
“Now, try it yourself!” Hermione said, letting go of Harry’s arm and turning her face away from him quickly. Harry grabbed another piece of cotton and once again muttered the words.
“That’s more of a long sleeve.” Hermione giggled uncharacteristically, when she saw the effect of Harry’s spell, “Where is the rest of the sweater?”
Harry joined in her laugh. “Sorry, I guess I am still preoccupied with perfecting the shield spell.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Hermione grabbing the book from Harry’s lap.
Harry stood up and walked over to the middle of the common room. Quickly he cast the spell on himself. The shield however, was still weak.
“You lack the proper form Harry,” judged Hermione.
“But you need to put your WILL into the spell, that way it will get stronger! No matter the correct form.” Harry argued rather loudly.
“No Harry.” Hermione responded eagerly, “Twardowski writes in his ‘Defensionis Magicae’ that the most important component of the spell is proper technique and pronunciation. If you put too much will into it, it will get unstable! How could you even measure will?”
“If only we had Baal Shem Tov ’s ‘Summa Defensio!’” responded Harry. “I have seen it referenced many times but it is sealed away in the Forbidden Section. Not even senior students can access it.”
“Then we will go there then. Tonight,” said Hermione.
Harry almost gasped at Hermione’s boldness. He nodded slowly and smiled. When it came to books, nothing would stop Hermione Granger. It didn’t take them long to get ready for their nightly escapade. Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and the Marauders’ Map.
“Ready?” He asked when he descended from the dormitory stairs and saw her waiting by the common room’s entrance. Hermione responded with a short nod.
They sneaked through the empty castle, it illuminated only by the Moon and torches on the wall.
Hermione couldn’t hide her excitement when they traversed the dusky halls of the library. She was almost ready to immediately jump on the Forbidden Section’s books.
“Calm down,” whispered Harry, a smile on his face “we have to reach our destination. And I thought I was the easily excited one.”
“Of course libraries are exciting,” said Hermione, sounding offended. “Think of all the forbidden knowledge, just lying around, I even heard of a hidden vault here, somewhere…” she stated, looking around.
They looked through the shelves and finally found the book they were looking for. Afterwards, they left the library Quietly. Suddenly they heard a loud meow. “Mrs. Norris! RUN!”
“Reducio!” whispered Harry, thinking quickly. He hid the book in his robe. They ran upstairs and through the courtyard and turned left, but they were caught after someone cast trip jinx on them.
They looked around in darkness, still plastered on the floor. A dark figure stepped out of the shadows. It was Filch, in his hand he was holding a… wand?! He smirked wickedly, “Kwikspell works miracles, Potter. Stand up! The High Inquisitor will be so grateful when she sees who I caught - the worst troublemaker. Incarcerous!” He led them to Umbridge’s office, pointing his wand at them.
When they entered the office, it was already occupied by another group. Malfoy and his goons held two people in front of Umbridge.
“RON?!” “LUNA?!” Harry and Hermione screamed in unison, surprised. Soon enough their surprise turned into realization when they saw Ron’s blush spread all over his face.
“SILENCE!” yelled Umbridge. She was already red on her face “I see it was a larger conspiracy then! When did you catch them, Filch?”
“I caught these two by the library, trying to steal some books no doubt! They must have worked together. I searched them but… I found nothing,” responded Filch.
“NO!” said Hermione forcefully. “Ron and Luna had nothing to do with it,” alongside her Harry nodded.
“No one asked you a thing, stupid mudblood.” Said Malfoy with a sneer. Harry felt anger building up inside him, but could do nothing.
For a moment Umbridge seemed to weight her options, looking around the room.
“We know how the troublemakers are punished, don’t we Mr. Potter?” Asked Umbridge with a silky voice.
“You will come to my office for detention” Umbridge said with an arrogant tone, motioning to Harry and Hermione, “Tomorrow at eight. Mr. Weasley and Ms. Lovegood… Filch, you surely have something clean for them”
The next day all Harry could think of was the impending detention with Umbridge. He could hardly eat. More than for himself, he was worried for Hermione. What if Umbridge used her cruel blood pen as a punishment again? In desperation, he even tried to find McGonagall but was informed she left the castle. Useless. As always. And Dumbledore is even worse.
Hermione and Harry arrived punctually at Umbridge’s office. Harry tentatively on the door with swung open at his touch. They entered, eyeing their surroundings.
“Yhm, yhm” coughed Umbridge, “come to the desk. You will be writing lines. Ms Granger you will write two hundred lines of ‘I will stop making troubles and tell lies.’ And you Mr. Potter shall write ‘I will not get uppity with my betters.’ ”
So it’s the quill again. But why were we summoned here together then? They picked up the quills from Umbridge’s desk and sat down to write.
Harry started to write fast, wanting to be over with it as fast as possible. He tentatively looked up at Hermione, desperately wanting to check how she was doing. She hadn’t started writing yet, only looked blankly at her sheet. Slowly, she pressed the quill to the paper and began writing.
Harry was astounded that the bloody lines of the quill did not appear on his hand but then he heard Hermione’s painful gasp. It was then that he realized Umbridge’s plan. The quill in Harry’s hand did not write bloody lines on his hand. Instead it did so on Hermione’s.
Harry ignored his pain because the real torture was in front of him. He saw that Hermione’s face was crooked in grimace of pain. He tried to write slower and to lighten the pressure of the quill on the parchment but to no avail. What followed, was the worst hour of his life. It was worse than anything that he had to endure with Dursleys, worse than any confrontation with Voldemort. He suffered. His own hand, now marked with new red lines, felt as if it was miles away and belonged to someone else. Hermione’s face contorted in pain became his entire world. Minutes stretched into hours in his mind.
After it was Umbridge beheld their hands, a cruel smirk plastered on her face. “Now we can be sure that the lesson, sunk in properly.” In silence, they left the office.
They stood in the corridor in silence, until Harry tried to break it. “Hermione, I am sorr-“
“Harry!” said Hermione sternly, “Don’t let that… that cruel toad make you feel guilty. This… is… not… your… fault…” She accentuated every word. In the darkness of the castle, she seemed to be the solitary glimpse of light. “If anything it is all on me! I wanted to go to the library!”
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Hermione. Hearing and feeling her muffled sobs on his arm, Harry felt hatred growing within him. He felt her heart, strongly beating in her chest, as if it wanted to escape.
“Maybe we can check what the book says at least?” she asked, when they broke apart. They needed no words, their eyes said it all. Harry took out the little book he kept in the pocket of his robe. “Engorgio!”
“To cast the best Protego spell you need to employ both your will as well as accurate technique and pronunciation.” read Hermione. “Which is never easy in the midst of battle.”
They looked at each other and despite all, smiled. They both knew that nothing would ever stop them. Despite all they had suffered.
And when many months later, centaurs carried Umbridge away, deep into Forbidden Forest, Harry felt only emptiness. He dreaded being this hollow, he was scared of his lack of emotion. But then he looked at Hermione.. They looked into each other’s eyes – marked with many trails, with even more to come. They joined their hands – marked by their torture. And in each other’s arms, they found safe home among the dark wood, if only for few short moments. And Harry didn’t feel hollow anymore.