Harry Potter: The Healer Chapter 161 - 161

Just a couple of days, and I've already experienced the Gryffindors' hyperactivity firsthand.

No, this doesn't an that we at Hufflepuff sit on our asses doing nothing, so sort of slow and sluggish bumps on a log. It's just that the Gryffindors, Potter in particular, show too much spontaneous, inconsistent activity. Here, there, this, the fifth, the tenth, from place to place. In short, it's exhausting.

From breakfast in the Great Hall, he and Hermione started being active, and almost all day tried to track down mbers of our unofficial DADA study club one by one to say: "Tonight after dinner, on the eighth floor, opposite the painting of Barnabas the Barmy."

"Wouldn't it be easier to tell one representative from each house once?" Hannah asked as we watched pretty much the sa scene at lunch. To be fair, Potter had finally delegated the task of notifying people to a couple of other students from his house.

"Apparently not," I smiled and dug into my food—it wasn't going to eat itself.

Classes—Charms, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, and Herbology—flew by unnoticed, even with the infrequent interruptions for prefect duties, of which there weren't many during "working" hours, once the first-years had gained so independence. And so, when the ti ca, my housemates and I approached the doors of the Room of Requirent. Naturally, we were hidden from prying eyes by charms—the guys had learned this even without my involvent; after all, there's a reason they've been dedicating an hour or an hour and a half to practical magic every day for two years now.

Stepping inside, we imdiately blended into the group of students who had spread out on sofas, armchairs, pillows, or settled near the bookcases.

"I think I'll head over there," I nodded towards Draco and Daphne, who were standing with Anthony Goldstein and Cho Chang, browsing the selection of books. Hermione was doing the sa, though she had found one specific book and was already thoroughly engrossed in it.

"Alright," Justin nodded for everyone.

As I walked over, the Weasley twins and Angelina Johnson, the current Gryffindor Quidditch captain, entered the room.

"Malfoy," I nodded to the blonde, shifting my gaze to the others. "Goldstein, Chang... Daphne."

"Likewise," Draco smirked, pulling a book that caught his eye from the shelf. "Interesting selection here."

"A curated selection based on what the person who asked for the room requested."

"Do you already know sothing about this place?" Daphne asked, standing much closer to than "etiquette" dictated, almost pressing against .

"You could say that."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the setup was slightly different from what I had requested. For instance, there were bulky contraptions made of mirrors and lenses, which looked like stationary Sneakoscopes or sothing similar. There were other strange things too. Like those large, sowhat ridiculous mannequins with a single wheel instead of legs and a large target painted on their chests.

Hermione suddenly looked up from her reading, scanned the room, set her book aside, and shoved Potter to the center of the hall, drawing everyone's attention.

"Well... Yeah..." Potter was clearly nervous, running a hand through his already ssy black hair. "We found a place to practice, and as I can see, you all found it easily."

"Yeah..."

"Great..."

"Amazing..."

The students replied in various tones.

"What's that over there?" Dean Thomas, a Gryffindor, pointed at the Sneakoscopes.

"Foe-Glasses and Sneakoscopes," Potter answered imdiately. "Basically, they show the approach of enemies and Dark Wizards, but you can't rely on them completely—they can be fooled."

"What nonsense," Malfoy muttered quietly, but he was heard, and several people turned their eyes our way.

"Care to correct him, Malfoy?" Ron bristled, though without much real heat.

"It's just," I smiled, answering instead of Draco, "the description isn't quite accurate."

"Then correct it, if you're so smart."

"Doubting I am?" I looked at the redhead. "But I will correct it. They detect Dark Magic, not Dark Wizards."

"Is there a difference?" Goldstein imdiately asked. "Actually, yes..."

"Yes, there is. A Dark Wizard can perfectly control himself, his emotions, and his mindset, which is exactly what affects the 'darkness.' But a wizard with poor self-control using Dark Magic will show up in a Foe-Glass or trigger a Sneakoscope. Or a wizard who sincerely and whole-heartedly wishes harm upon soone while near a Foe-Glass, even if they've never used Dark Magic in their life. See the difference?"

"We get it, you know how they work," Potter nodded. "Thanks for the explanation. That sowhat changes how they can be used."

"How so, mate?" Ron demanded, indignant that his friend had agreed with Malfoy and .

"It ans you can't use them to detect a competent Dark Wizard. Which ans, as I said, you can't rely on them. But that's not what we're here to talk about... Where should we start..."

Before Potter could even formulate a thought, Hermione put forth her proposal:

"I think we should elect a leader."

"Harry is the leader," the twins responded imdiately, and many students agreed with them. Only my housemates all turned to look at simultaneously, and Draco and Daphne weren't far behind.

Naturally, this didn't go unnoticed by the other students.

"What?" I looked around at them. "I don't need this. I have enough responsibilities as it is."

Hermione began discussing holding a proper vote to officially confirm the leader's authority.

"I thought," Malfoy leaned slightly towards , "you decided to join this little adventure strictly for the 'leadership points'."

"I'm only here to make sure certain relatives of mine, naly Hermione, don't ss up too badly with this unofficial club. And maybe, just maybe, so interesting knowledge will pop up."

"By the way," Malfoy continued, raising his hand in response to the vote for Potter. I did the sa, and the rest of my housemates followed suit. "Word reached that Professor Flitwick is shutting down the club."

"Oh really?"

"Exactly. He's planning to announce it at tomorrow's eting."

"That's a sha."

"Not really, given the current situation. Personally, I plan to make so money in the house by tutoring the younger years."

"You need money?"

Malfoy just put on a haughty face.

"Easy inco. More is never less."

"Reasonable."

While we were whispering, the process of picking a na for the organization began. When soone suggested "Dumbledore's Army," I almost choked on air.

"So, everyone in favor of the DA?" Hermione looked around the students, and many agreed with the na coined by Ginny Weasley.

"No, obviously," I smiled, causing slight confusion among my housemates and outright indignation from the rest. "Have you completely lost your minds?"

"What do you an?" Hermione tilted her head slightly. "And please, no insults."

"It's not an insult, it's a statent of fact. Umbridge is digging for dirt on Dumbledore. And you? You want to na an illegal—under the current circumstances—combat magic club 'Dumbledore's Army'? Seriously? What if she finds out? What if we get caught? Let's just fra the Headmaster, shall we?"

"He's actually right," Potter nodded, even though he had really liked the na.

"How is he right?" Ron imdiately flared up. "Why would anyone find out? Only if so Malfoy rats us out."

"Tsk..." Malfoy looked like he wanted to make the most pitiful face possible and facepalm. "How many tis do I have to tell you, blockhead, 'Contract'? Does that an absolutely nothing to you?"

"Watch it," George said, though there was a smile on his face.

"Ronnie might be an idiot..." Fred continued for him.

"...In fact, he's definitely an idiot," George picked up.

"But he's our idiot, and only we get to insult him."

"Just na it the Club of Applied Magic [CAM]," I interrupted the brewing argunt. "Simple as that. That way, at least the na doesn't tie us to Dumbledore, and they can't pin a bunch of inconvenient charges on him if we're discovered. And you always have to account for that possibility."

"That makes sense," Hermione nodded. "Although I like DA more than CAM, the idea is sound. Who's in favor of this na?"

This ti, absolutely everyone voted, though so with a hint of dissatisfaction.

Next, Potter suggested starting with the basic Expelliarmus, which was t with mild disapproval—I'm sure many expected to be taught sothing cool right off the bat. Which, in my opinion, was the right call. Potter managed to articulate his reasoning well, and soon we were all pairing up.

"Greengrass?" Hannah turned to Daphne, but then imdiately looked at . "Don't look at like that. I know how practice efficiency can drop when a pair consists of people who aren't indifferent to each other."

"Sensible, Abbott," Daphne nodded.

"Looks like destiny," Malfoy smirked, and we paired up. "Take turns? Because the Disarming Charm isn't exactly impressive. What else could you expect from Potter?"

"Take turns. You start."

Malfoy, effortlessly and without any strain or unnecessary movents, sent a thin beam of the Disarming Charm at with a sharp flick of his wand, which I absorbed with a standard Protego. The situation with the other students varied wildly, and the differences were sotis staggering. For example, so couldn't cast the spell at all, and even distorted it slightly, creating a completely different effect. Others, conversely, put too much power into it, and while their opponent was disard, the wand knocked from their hands turned into a projectile that flew anywhere but into the caster's hand.

"This is absurd..."

Malfoy caught my spell on his shield and imdiately retaliated with his own Expelliarmus, which I then shielded against.

"It makes sense," I replied to Draco's comnt. "You have to teach a mostly harmless counterattack first, and then move on to the rest. For instance... Protego. For instance, practicing a shield and testing it with the newly learned Disarming Charm. Expelliarmus."

And so we exchanged spells.

"Are you practicing with shields?" Potter approached us to supervise the process. "Great casting. But don't you want to try disarming without a shield? To see the final result?"

"I don't think that makes sense for us, Potter," Draco scoffed. "We're on a different level."

"Alright," Potter just nodded and moved on, while both Malfoy and I watched him go.

"Don't you think," Malfoy asked, surprised, "that along with getting an important task, Potter sohow acquired a bit of a brain?"

"You didn't tone down your usual arrogance for nothing either."

"Hmm... Expelliarmus..."

And so we practiced. Out of the corner of my eye, I noted the excellent progress of my housemates. Daphne, who was usually rather dismissive of wand magic, was holding her own just as well as Hannah, who was doing exceedingly well. The rest were struggling a bit more, and so individuals were managing to ss up catastrophically, which, honestly, surprised quite a bit. So were enthusiastically and self-forgetfully hurling spells at each other, smiling as they slowly demolished the bookshelves, completely missing the person standing right in front of them. There was only ten or fifteen ters between opponents, max—many were standing even closer.

By the end of the session, almost everyone could produce a stable Expelliarmus, which wasn't surprising—we weren't little kids anymore, and the basic experience in various disciplines showed; with that foundation, you can master a spell much faster than when you're just starting out as a wizard.

As it turned out, Hermione had only planned an hour for these lessons, and a good chunk of that ti was wasted on idle chatter, so before we knew it, it was ti to leave. I cast various concealnt spells on myself and my friends, and we returned to the common room without any issues. But no sooner had we sat down at our table to discuss the evening than Herbert approached .

"Congratulate , Hector," our new Beater grinned from ear to ear.

"On what exactly?"

"I goaded Umbridge into admitting that writing with the Blood Quill was a detention."

The guy even showed his slightly injured hand, pulling back the bandage.

"Hmm..." I didn't need to see myself in a mirror to know how predatory my smirk was. "dical examination?"

"Just got it from Madam Pomfrey," Herbert nodded, looking pleased with himself.

"Are you a masochist?"

"What? No! How could you even think that? I did it for the greater good."

"Yeah, I get it. Susan," I turned to our redhead, who was braiding her hair into a long plait. "Can you communicate normally with your aunt?"

"Umbridge is filtering the mail sohow," she shook her head. "We can't talk about anything serious."

"Alright... But write a letter to your aunt and give it to . I can deliver it. Here's the gist. Is it possible to quietly build a case against Umbridge? We have mories, testimonies, and dical records. What else might be needed? If necessary, I can poke around and find out who among the influential families dislikes Fudge to push this whole sche forward."

"Okay. I'll write it right now then," Susan pulled out so parchnt, an inkwell, and a quill, and got to work.

"Alright... Did anyone else manage it? One official case isn't much of a precedent."

"We're working on it," Herbert nodded, still smirking broadly.

"We?"

"The upper years."

"I see. Go get healed. You have a bat to swing tomorrow."

"Oh, crap... Right!" Herbert looked alard. "Alright, wish luck. If you need anything, you know where to find ."

"Of course."

Things are getting interesting. Maybe we can nail Umbridge a bit sooner than I planned. Maybe Flitwick won't even have to shut down the Dueling Club, and even better, the panic-stricken students who started practicing DADA there will clear out. Or they'll go back to doing what they did before—drinking tea and reading books. That would be great.

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