He had gone up to his room and back down twice more as the night went on and finally, Zabini and his other minions went to sleep. It was nearly time. He went up to his room. Stroked his cock a bit and then woke everyone but Seamus. They all got a letter, too, and they all were ready to answer it. They pulled on their cloaks and left out the dorm, meeting the girls in the common room. Smith was glad to see them. He glanced down at the note, one more time, to be reassured. 
                              
"Want to get revenge on the Death Eater? Want to protect our school? Bring your friends and come to Defense Against the Dark Arts at midnight. The halls are clear."
                              
Smith confirmed it on Potter's Map as they walked, but he was intrigued by who was waiting in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It wasn't just the eighth years anymore. Dawlish appeared to be with Filch in the basement, detaining him. McGonagall in her tower. He smiled and led his party into the room. The tables had been pushed together into a large square in the middle of the room. Nearly thirty people from all four houses were there. Zach was surprised and suddenly happy. He had people to help him, he had a group. It wasn't just him, freaked-out Mike, crippled Wayne and blind Olie, anymore. They were strong, now.
                              
"Welcome. I see you got your note and I'm glad you have the map, clever of you to steal it," said one at the end, his hood over his head. Zach didn't recognize his voice. Though he was shorter than the rest of them.
                              
"I'm not handing it over," Zach grunted.
                              
"No, but please check for... unwelcome guests," the kid said, politely, but still layered in command. Zach didn't like it, but did as he said. He saw the kid's name and looked back up at him, eyes wide.
                              
"There's no one here that I don't... understand... much. Besides you."
                              
"No names, Smith... but I'm the one who sent the note."
                              
"But why?" He didn't understand.
                              
"You know what I lost, Smith. You want to challenge everyone's hatred for Death Eaters or can we get on with it?"
                              
"Sorry," he grunted.
                              
"Have a seat then, I suspect you are the last ones to come. Everyone pick a privacy spell of your choosing and ward the room."
                              
The walls pinging with the influx of spells, but everyone felt reassured. Zach stared at the leader of the party, quite interested in what the kid had in mind. 
                              
"Welcome... I know most of you came at my invitation to take revenge on the people who hurt us the most..." he said, angrily shaking. "Or maybe you just hate Malfoy and Potter. Maybe you have remembered that we must protect our school. The Death Eaters are still here, still cursing us. Zabini, Nott, Malfoy and Greengrass. They've brainwashed Potter and his fan club into believing he's innocent. But they're not."
                              
"He's right!" pimply-Fay shouted. Merlin, she looked bad, but not as bad as Tracey, her glamours and make-up failing to hide her spreading scarred, cursed face.
                              
"Yeah!" shouted a few more in support.
                              
"But we have a problem. They are strong, protected. We have to protect ourselves. Otherwise... we'll get curses and expulsion, too. It's time to organize."
                              
"We'll get them good! All of us!" Wayne brayed. He was an ass.
                              
"No, not all of us, at once at least. I thank you guys, for what you've done, but we must be smarter... plan things better. Or else we'd all wind up in similar situations."
                              
"What are you a Ravenclaw? Or a Slytherin?" Fay spat.
                              
"He's not a Ravenclaw," Chambers said.
                              
"He doesn't seem like a Slytherin, either," Malcolm said, as pus came out of a sore by his mouth. He covered his mouth when a few girls "ewwwed" him.