The four of them exchanged meaningful glances before simultaneously grabbing their bottles and retreating to the table farthest from the bar, settling in while surveying their bizarre surroundings with barely concealed unease.
The Hog's Head attracted only the most eccentric clientele, and today's selection was particularly unsettling. In one shadowy corner hunched a figure whose entire head was swathed in grimy gray bandages, yet somehow managed to pour glass after glass of smoking, flame-wreathed beverages through a narrow gap in the wrappings where his mouth presumably lurked.
By the window, two hooded figures sat in ominous silence—had they not been conversing in thick Yorkshire accents, they could have passed for exceptionally tall Dementors taking a tea break.
In the fireplace's flickering shadows sat a witch draped in heavy black veils that pooled around her feet like spilled ink. Only the sharp tip of her nose protruded beneath the fabric, giving her the appearance of a particularly theatrical mourner.
"Something feels off about this," Harry murmured, his green eyes darting nervously around the room. "What if Umbridge is hiding among these... people?"
"Umbridge is considerably shorter than any of them," Hermione whispered back with characteristic logic. "Besides, even if she did show up, she couldn't stop us. I've researched every regulation I could find regarding study groups and extracurricular organizations—what we're planning falls well within permitted activities."
Ron, however, was regarding their fellow patrons with undisguised fascination: "I reckon we could order absolutely anything here. Long as we've got the gold, that crusty old barman would sell us dragon's blood if we asked. He clearly doesn't give a hippogriff's tail about regulations. Come to think of it, I've always fancied trying Firewhisky—"
"You—are—a—pre—fect!" Hermione hissed with venomous emphasis on each syllable.
"Oh." Ron's enthusiasm deflated like a punctured balloon. "Right... bloody hell, I keep forgetting that bit."
"So who exactly do you think will turn up for this meeting?" Harry asked, wrestling with his Butterbeer's rust-encrusted cap before taking a cautious sip. Orli instinctively patted her bag, mentally cataloging her emergency potions supply—thankfully, she still had several vials of Stomach-Settling Draught on hand.
"Just a couple of people, really," Hermione said breezily, checking her watch before glancing toward the entrance. "I told them to arrive around now—oh! Look, someone's coming!"
The pub door burst open with such force that Aberforth actually froze mid-motion behind the bar, a filthy rag suspended over a glass that had seen better decades. His establishment had quite possibly never hosted this many patrons simultaneously in its entire sordid history.
Neville, Dean Thomas, and Lavender Brown led the charge, followed immediately by the Patil twins looking unusually determined. Ginny entered with Luna drifting beside her like a particularly ethereal ghost, while Colin and Dennis Creevey practically disappeared among the taller students despite their obvious excitement.
The entire Gryffindor Quidditch team core materialized next: Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson strode in with athletic confidence, while Fred, George, and Lee Jordan each clutched oversized Zonko's bags that undoubtedly contained enough chaos to level a small building.
Ernie Macmillan appeared in the crowd like a pompous beacon, flanked by Hannah Abbott and what seemed like half of Hufflepuff House—students whose names Orli couldn't recall but whose determined expressions spoke volumes. Cedric's aristocratic features stood out among the yellow-tied crowd, with Cho Chang positioned strategically at his elbow. Several more Ravenclaws brought up the rear, their blue ties a splash of color in the dim tavern.
Harry's face underwent a dramatic transformation the instant he spotted Cho beside Cedric—all color drained from his features as if someone had cast a particularly effective Blanching Charm. His mouth fell open in what could only be described as horrified disbelief.
It took several long, uncomfortable seconds before he managed to turn his stricken gaze back to Hermione: "This is your idea of 'a couple of people'? A couple?!"
"Well, it seems everyone's rather keen to learn something useful, doesn't it?" Hermione said with barely suppressed delight, her eyes practically sparkling with satisfaction. "Ron, would you mind fetching a few more chairs? I have the distinct feeling we're going to need them."
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