Ariana's refusal to teach the D.A. sent a ripple of discontent through the newly formed group. Her logic, while impeccable, was not what they wanted to hear. They had hoped to gain access to the prodigious talents of the girl who had bested Dementors and dismantled Ministry officials. To be denied that access, and to have their own motivations so coolly dissected and dismissed, stung their pride.
The discontent was led, predictably, by Zacharias Smith of Hufflepuff, a boy whose arrogance was matched only by his sense of entitlement.
"So that's it, is it?" he complained loudly at the start of the third meeting, before Harry could even begin. "We get Potter, while Dumbledore's prodigy sits in her ivory tower, too good for the rest of us? What kind of army is this, where the best soldier refuses to fight?"
A murmur of agreement went through a faction of the group, primarily those who had been the most vocal in their previous skepticism of Harry.
"She thinks we're not good enough for her!" another student, Marietta Edgecombe, chimed in, her voice shrill. "She's just being arrogant!"
Harry's temper, already frayed from his Occlumency lessons, began to rise. He saw this for what it was: not a genuine grievance, but an attempt to undermine his own authority and a petulant reaction to being denied what they felt they were owed.
Before he could speak, however, Hermione stepped forward, her face a mask of cold, intellectual fury. Her transformation over the years had been profound; the insecure, rule-quoting girl was gone, replaced by a confident, formidable witch who would not suffer fools gladly.
"Arrogant?" she said, her voice quiet but ringing with a dangerous intensity that made everyone fall silent. "You dare to stand there and call Ariana Dumbledore arrogant?" She swept her gaze over the dissenting students. "Let me be perfectly clear about the situation. Three years ago, while you were all safely in your beds, Ariana was facing down a Basilisk to save this school. She stood against Death Eaters at the World Cup while you were running for cover. She has faced threats you cannot even begin to imagine."
Her eyes narrowed. "And a few short months ago, many of you in this room were mocking Harry, calling him a liar and a cheat. You sneered at him in the corridors. You subscribed to the Ministry's propaganda without a single independent thought. You offered him no loyalty, no support, no benefit of the doubt."
She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low, cutting whisper. "And now, because you are frightened, you come here and demand that the very person you ostracized teach you how to save yourselves. And you have the audacity to be upset when his most powerful ally, a person who has never once faltered in her loyalty, declines to waste her time on a group of fickle, fair-weather cowards?"
The verbal evisceration was so complete, so brutal, that a stunned silence filled the room. Zacharias Smith's face had gone from smug to a blotchy, terrified red.
Harry stepped forward then, his own voice hard as stone, echoing Hermione's sentiment. "Hermione's right," he said, his gaze sweeping over the dissenters. "We started this group to learn how to fight, to protect ourselves because the Ministry won't. This isn't a school club. It's not your right to be here. It's a privilege you get because you're scared, and we're willing to help."
He pointed a finger at Zacharias Smith. "Ariana owes you nothing. She's my friend. She's been training me, helping me, when all of you were calling me a liar. Hermione is giving up her own study time to organize this. I am putting myself at risk by teaching you. We are not your private tutors. We are preparing for a war. And in a war, you don't get to question your commanding officers' strategic decisions."
He squared his shoulders, his authority in the room suddenly absolute. "So here are your options. You can stay, you can be quiet, you can be grateful for the help you're being given, and you can learn. Or, you can get out. Right now. There is no third option."
The ultimatum hung in the air, sharp and final.
Zacharias Smith, along with Marietta Edgecombe and a handful of their friends, looked around, expecting support. They found none. The other students—Neville, Luna, the Weasleys, Cho Chang—were looking at them with expressions of cold disapproval. They had just witnessed a mutiny, and it had been ruthlessly and efficiently crushed.
With a final, resentful sneer, Zacharias Smith turned and stormed out of the room. Marietta and about four other students followed him, their departure a quiet admission of their own lack of conviction.
The moment the door slammed shut behind them, the atmosphere in the room changed. The tension evaporated, replaced by a new, more powerful sense of unity. The group was smaller now, but it was stronger, purified of its most unreliable elements.
Neville Longbottom stepped forward, his face full of his quiet resolve. "They're wrong, Harry," he said, his voice clear and steady. "What you and Hermione are doing… it's important. And we're grateful. All of us."
A chorus of agreement went through the remaining students. They looked at Harry not just as a famous figure or a skilled wizard, but as their leader.
Harry looked at the faces of the loyal members of Dumbledore's Army, at Ron's supportive nod, and at Hermione's fierce, unwavering friendship. He realized then that Ariana's refusal had been another, unintentional lesson. It had forced them to define what they were really fighting for. It wasn't just about learning spells. It was about loyalty, conviction, and the willingness to stand for something when it was difficult.
The D.A. was no longer just a study group. It had just survived its first internal battle. It had been purged of the uncommitted. And it was now, truly, an army.