The students sat scattered around Jerry and his friends. Some could barely contain their excitement, their knees crossed; others propped their chins on their hands, looking curious. Luna Lovegood remained as dreamy as ever, her silver-gray eyes fixed on the ceiling.
When the last carved chair gave a faint creak, the scattered conversations ebbed into silence.
"Um—" Hermione's voice sounded taut, and the word rose awkwardly in the hush. She cleared her throat at once. "Good morning, everyone."
Jerry gave the back of her hand an encouraging pat beneath the long table. Hermione drew a deep breath. The cold air seemed to lend her strength, and when she spoke again, every word landed firmly. "I have a proposal for anyone who genuinely wants to learn spells for defending against Dark Magic—not the useless rubbish in Umbridge's handbook."
"That stack of waste paper doesn't even come close to teaching defense!" Ginny cut in.
"Exactly." Hermione nodded to Ginny, her fingers absently tracing the grain of her Wand. "We need structured training, not just what's on the exams..." She turned to Jerry, her lashes casting fluttering shadows on her cheeks. "We need to be able to fight for real."
Michael Corner spun his empty glass. "Are you saying O.W.L.s don't matter?"
"They matter, but this is more urgent." Hermione sprang to her feet, her oak chair scraping sharply across the floor. "Because..." Her chest rose and fell. "Voldemort... has come back."
The name Voldemort seemed to suck all the air from the room. Marietta Edgecombe, who had come with Cho Chang, clapped a hand over her mouth. Spilled Butterbeer snaked across the tablecloth, dripping in the silence. Terry Boot's shoulders jerked as though he'd been shocked; Padma pulled her wool shawl tighter; Neville's startled cry caught in his throat and became a