Capítulo 211: Putting DA into RoR
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Angelina sat in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, sulking gloomily as she tried to merge into the cushions of her chair — her year wasn't going as she had planned; having just received the reigns of the Gryffindor quidditch team as the captain, Angelina was looking forward to building a cup-winning team, but then Umbridge and her Education Decrees had ruined her chance of her doing that by taking away the thing she was looking most forward this year.
Furthermore, it was painful to tell her teammates the same and watch their crestfallen expressions, which she was sure that her face matched. Alicia, George, and Fred, along with herself, had taken the decision quite deeply because this was going to be their last year at Hogwarts and thus their last chance to play together — something they hadn't done since their fifth year.
'If not for the tournament last year, we wouldn't have gotten the chance to play last year,' she thought and couldn't imagine how it would feel to not play quidditch for two straight years.
She heaved a deep sigh, one of many that day.
"You really are down in the dumps." Angelina raised her head and saw Harry standing in front of her, smiling consolingly at her.
"This year sucks," she spat with force but then deflated, "it was supposed to be the best year — and not. . . this, whatever this is."
"Cheer up, you know. Nothing is going to happen by sulking here in the corner," said Harry quietly, when she told him, "because we've found somewhere to have our first Defense meeting. Tonight, eight o'clock, the seventh floor opposite that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by those trolls. Can you tell Katie and Alicia?"
She was slightly taken aback but promised to tell the others; Harry smiled and was about to leave when he turned back towards her and spoke.
"Listen. . . this might not help, but there's no harm in trying," he said slowly. "Quinn is coming to the meeting today — maybe you can talk to him about this. . . Quinn just might be able to help," — Harry chuckled — "he did make a joke out of Umbridge, so there might be something he might be able to do. Why don't you give it a try."
A light appeared in Angelina's eyes. Yes, Harry was right, she thought. Quinn was able to protect AID from Umbridge's ugly clutches; he just might be able to help him.
"If I bring along Diggory and Carmichael along with me, he might do something," she said with a renewed vigour, "yes, he has been the commentator for so long and even organized the tournament last year — he surely will be able to us." she stood up from her seat and hugged Harry, "Thank you, Harry. I'll go tell Alicia and Katie. We'll be ready for today."
"O-Oh," said Harry, a bit taken aback at the bombastic restoration of energy, "Best of Luck. I also can't wait to go back to practice and play for the cup."
After Angelina left, Harry turned around to find Hermione watching him.
"What?" he said.
"Well, are you sure we can trust Dobby's plan. . . he's not the most reliable of people, you know," she said.
"This room isn't just some mad idea of Dobby's. He even brought a house-elf friend of his, and he vouched for the room's existence."
"Hmm, oh well, that's all right then," said Hermione briskly and chose not to raise any more objections.
Together with Ron and Ivy, divided into two teams, they had spent most of the day seeking out those people who had signed their names to the list in the Hog's Head and telling them where to meet that evening. By the end of dinner, he was confident that the news had been passed to everyone who had turned up in the Hog's Head.
At half-past seven, Harry, Ivy, Ron, and Hermione left the Gryffindor common room, Harry clutching a particular piece of aged parchment in his hand. Fifth years were allowed to be out in the corridors until nine o'clock, but all three of them kept looking around nervously as they made their way up to the seventh floor.
"Hold it," said Harry warningly, unfolding the piece of parchment at the top of the last staircase, tapping it with his wand, and muttering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
A map of Hogwarts appeared upon the blank surface of the parchment. Tiny black moving dots, labelled with names, showed where various people were.
"Filch is on the second floor," said Harry, holding the map close to his eyes and scanning it closely, "and Mrs. Norris is on the fourth."
"And Umbridge?" said Hermione anxiously.
"In her office," said Harry, pointing. "Okay, let's go."
They hurried along the corridor to the place Dobby had described to Harry, a stretch of blank wall opposite an enormous tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet.
"Okay," said Harry quietly, while a moth-eaten troll paused in his relentless clubbing of the would-be ballet teacher to watch. "Dobby said to walk past this bit of wall three times, concentrating hard on what we need."
They did so, turning sharply at the window just beyond the blank stretch of wall, then at the man-size vase on its other side. Ron had screwed up his eyes in concentration, Hermione was whispering something under her breath, Ivy simply closed her eyes, Harry's fists were clenched as he stared ahead of him.
'We need somewhere to learn to fight. . . .' he thought. 'Just give us a place to practice . . . somewhere they can't find us . . .'
"Harry," said Hermione sharply as they wheeled around after their third walk past.
A highly polished door had appeared in the wall. Ron was staring at it, looking slightly wary. Harry reached out, seized the brass handle, pulled open the door, and led the way into a spacious room lit with flickering torches like those that illuminated the dungeons eight floors below.
The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs, there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, and a large, cracked Foe-Glass that Harry was sure had seen the previous year, in the fake Moody's classroom.
"These will be good when we're practicing Stunning," said Ron enthusiastically, prodding one of the cushions with his foot.
"And just look at these books!" said Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the hefty leather-bound tomes. "A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions . . . The Dark Arts Outsmarted . . . Self-Defensive Spellwork . . . wow . . ." She looked around at Harry, her face glowing, and he saw that the presence of hundreds of books had finally convinced Hermione that what they were doing was right. "Harry, this is wonderful; there's everything we need here!"
And without further ado, she slid Jinxes for the Jinxed from its shelf, sank onto the nearest cushion, and began to read.
There was a gentle knock on the door. Harry looked around; Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Parvati, and Dean had arrived.
"Whoa," said Ginny, staring around, impressed. "What is this place?" Harry began to explain, but before he had finished, more people had arrived, and he had to start all over again. By the time eight o'clock arrived, every cushion was occupied.
Except for one person.
"Belby," called Ivy, "where is Quinn?"
Marcus took out a pocket watch he had gotten as a gift; the time was one minute to eight, and the second hand was ten clicks from striking twelve on the clock dial.
"He will be here at eight," said Marcus, looked at the door, "three. . . two. . . one—"
The door opened on point, with the last person remaining stepped inside.
"Good evening, people," said Quinn with a smile as he looked over the gathered crowd. "It's nice to see all of you gathered here — the unity that I'm seeing between the four houses fills my heart with pride, joy, and warmth. . ." — he spread his arms wide — "so, to all of you guys, I say. . . get out of here, at once."
There was a spell of silence that descended over the room. It took a while for everyone to register Quinn's words and triggered a cluster of whispers among each other.
"Did you take a strange, untested potion again?" asked Eddie. "I told you to test out on the second-year twirps before taking it on your own."
"I didn't take anything," said Quinn, "but I seriously need you guys to get out so that I can do my job, which is to teach you guys properly" — he clapped his hands — "now, get out, come on, hurry."
Luna was the first to stand up and walk out of the Room of Requirements without question; she was followed by Marcus and Eddie along with the Ravenclaw crowd; the next to leave was all the Slytherin students who had come here because of Quinn's recommendation. Seeing that half of the people had left, Hufflepuff also got up and left with Cedric in the lead, who followed after Cho.
"Come one, guys. I want to start quickly," said Quinn urging the Gryffindor to follow.
Fred and George shrugged and left the Room of Requirements and the rest of the quidditch team (sans Harry and the newly recruited Ron). Ginny followed after her brothers, and soon everyone left, leaving the Golden Squad remaining in the room with Quinn.
"What are you doing?" asked Ron.
"Trying to get this group started," said Quinn in reply, "we will get started the minute this room empties out."
Ivy matched eyes with Quinn for a moment before she sighed and nodded to the other three. Finally, everyone in the room, including Quinn.
"Now, we can finally start," said Quinn to the crowd behind him as the door to the Room of Requirements disappeared. "You guys choosing this room was the greatest decision you made in your school life. . ." — The Golden Squad watched with wide eyes as Quinn marched back and forth. — "but, you, the newbies, don't understand the real abilities of the Room of Requirements."
He knows about the room, they thought.
An ornate door with webs and networks of lines crossing in intricate patterns had appeared in the wall. Quinn touched the center of the handleless door, and the entire door disappeared as melting into the air, leaving a gaping arched doorway in the wall.
If the room previously was spacious, then this room was even more so. It was lit with MLEs (purposely dropped in the Room of Lost Things by Quinn). The library was much smaller than the previous one and only held the necessary bare-minimum books on their shelves. . . but that was it; there was nothing else inside.
The gathered crowd looked around with doubt, wondering if Quinn knew what he was doing.
"Are you sure know how this works?" asked Tracey.
"Of course, I know," said Quinn with a chuckle, "I have been using the Room of Requirement ever since my first year."
The Golden Squad's jaw dropped at the shocking revelation. They more or less understood the essence of the Room of Requirments — and to think that Quinn had been using this room for five years, this being his sixth, was mind-blowing.
"And you, you fucking mingebag, never thought of telling us about this," said Eddie with his arms crossed.
"A man needs his space, you know," said Quinn in defense with a smile, "this is my secret treehouse as to speak," he then sighed, "not anymore though; all of you guys now are aware of its existence," — which Quinn didn't mind as Project: Babel was over, and because. . .
"A piece of warning though," said Quinn with his tone dipping deeper, "no one will use this room except me — I will be the one who will call for the Room of Requirements to provide our needs and no one else."
"Why?" asked Dean Thomas, frowning.
"So that this magical room doesn't turn into a broom closet for people to snog and shag," Quinn' bluntness made many blush, "I don't want any of you willy-nilly coming to this part of the floor whenever you desire — if anyone comes here out of the meeting timings, they will be penalized and don't try to be sneaky about it — I will know when someone comes here."
"But why do you get to be the one to be in charge of this?" said Zacharias Smith haughtily.
Quinn plainly smiled and raised his arms, "Because I know more about Room of Requirements than any living person on this planet."
Quinn then raised his arms wide.
It was instantaneous. Starting from the color of the floor to the shape of the walls and the size of the room, everything shifted as if everything before was simply an illusion lifted to reveal the thing.
". . . The Great Hall," said Cedric at the 'new' room they stood in.
Cedric's words made everyone's eyes flash in recognition; the room was indeed like the Great Hall — an empty Great Hall with only the shape and size resembling strikingly to where everyone ate their meals; there were no house long-tables, no paintings and hanging candles, no faculty's high table, and nothing.
"I have been using it for so long that I know how to operate the Room of Requirements."
Quinn clapped once and instantly, and simultaneously, two humanoid target dummies appeared on either side of him. He raised his hand straight up — everyone looked up — and when Quinn snapped his fingers, a dummy came out of the ceiling.
"I can control everything in this room," said Quinn. The temperature dropped a few degrees at his words, but everyone felt heat in the room the next moment. "I can do anything I imagine; of course, the room must be able to provide my request — but with the time I have spent here, I know what the room is capable of and what's out of its ability."
The group watched as dummy after dummy started popping in the room — no matter what direction they turned, where they looked, there was a dummy there waiting for them.
From the corner of her vision, Daphne noticed something and looked down to see. . . herself — the floor was polished enough for her to see her own reflection. The next second, she felt her feet sink into grey sand before everything went back to normal.
"So, what's the agenda for today?" said Quinn beaming after he had demonstrated his authority and established himself as the manager of the Room of Requirements — if no one was going to use it besides the meetings, then he would have it for the remaining time — just as usual.
Hermione raised her hand immediately.
"I think we ought to elect a leader," she said.
Quinn shrugged, "Sure, we can do that. How do you want to do this?"
"By putting it to a vote. It makes it formal, and it gives them authority. So — everyone who you think ought to be our leader?"
The group looked at specific people — Cedric, Harry, Quinn, Hermione. . . but there was no one in the majority.
"I vote for Ivy," said Quinn, raising his hand high. "Who's with me?"
Ivy stirred in shock surprise, acutely becoming aware of everyone's gaze.
"I have no problem with that," agreed Eddie, shrugging, "I vote for the good Potter." Marcus nodded to show his agreement on the matter, with Luna raising both her hands in support.
Then everybody their hands up — a lot of them had been approached by Ivy(and Hermione), and others knew of her, so they had no reason to deny her the leader role.
"Er — right, thanks," said Ivy, who could feel her face burning. "And — what, Hermione?"
"The name. I think that before starting, we should decide on that before we start," she said brightly, her hand still in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"
Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina hopefully. "Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.
"I was thinking," said Hermione, frowning at Fred, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."
"The Defense Association?" said Cho. "The fits with DA for short, and nobody will know what we're talking about?"
There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring at this.
"All in favor of the DA?" said Ivy, taking her role as the leader, "That's a majority — motion passed!"
She pinned the piece of paper with all of their names on it on the wall and was about to write the name when Blaise Zabaini from Slytherin spoke up in interjection.
"Wait," he said, "how about we don't write the name down," — he gazed at everyone who were looking back at him — "this is a secret group, and while it would best to have no name to keep things most secretive — but for unity and team building, we chose the name — however for a secret to be strong, there must not be a paper trail. . . so I suggest that we don't write it down — DA will only be kept in our thoughts and nothing else."
"As expected from a Slytherin and the son of the infamous Black Widow," said Quinn with a smile, making Blaise squirm about his mother being mentioned. "I am in total and complete agreement with Zabini — let's not write anything that happens here down — everything that happens stays in our heads."
Ivy, being the leader, thought for a moment before nodding. "Rule Number #1: No one except Quinn will access this room; he will be the one to request for DA. Rule Number #2: Nothing that happens here must ever be written down — not in your diaries or letters home. . . . We will make rules as we move along," she finished.
She turned to Quinn and ordered, "We should start. Please begin."
Quinn smiled and turned towards the group.
"Let's start some magic, shall we?"
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Quinn West - MC - Room of Requirements is my asset. I will hold the key to it.
Ivy Potter - Leader - . . . Alright, so I'm the leader now. . . okay, so first rules.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - I have been thinking about the next chapter for a very long time.
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