Saturday
"Stupid fucking owl," Draco grumbled, "Please, please just come down," he begged, holding the bacon he had brought with him as an offering above his head, "Please, come on, be a good owl - please," the eagle owl gave Draco a reproachful screech from its position, perched amongst the school owls, ten feet or so out of Draco's reach, "Fucking please!! " he pleaded, starting to sound positively desperate, but the owl only tuned it's back on Draco, and puffed it's feathers up as if it was preparing for a nap.
Up until this point, having already sent his own letters with a small brown owl, Harry had been leaning back against the owlery wall with his arms crossed, watching Draco stretch his arm up, nearly in hysterics as he tried to encourage the owl to come down to him. He'd had enough now though - they had other things to do today - and so he strode forward and reached for the bacon in Draco's hand, but was not quite tall enough to grab it.
"Just give it here already, Draco," he said impatiently, tapping the others arm until he finally realised what Harry was trying to do, and passed him the bacon as he stepped back.
"Fine - have at it, I don't know what you think you can do differently though," Draco said sceptically as he assumed the position that Harry had previously occupied.
Harry ignored him, in favour of turning all his attention to the stroppy owl above them, "Hey there pretty birdie," he crooned softly up to the owl, "You're such a pretty birdie, aren't you," reluctantly, the eagle owl's head twitched, "I know you can hear me… hmm? I've got something for you," in one smooth movement, the owls head swivelled round to peer down at Harry, "There you are," the owl hooted, enamoured with Harry's gentle teasing tone, "will you come down please? Hmm, pretty birdie, aren't you a beauty," the owl hesitated, before leaping from its perch and fluttering down to stand in front of Harry, "There we go, aren't you a good owl, hmm," the owl preened under Harry's compliments, and barely batted an eyelid when Harry delicately untied the letter from around its leg - it did freeze for a moment though, and glared threateningly at Draco when he approached with his own letter, "Come now, you're doing so well," Harry reached back and took the letter from Draco, and tied it on himself, "There we go, good birdie,"
"Are you the owl whisperer or something?" Draco grumbled as they walked back to the castle.
Harry shrugged, "I like animals - you better find out that owl's name though," he grumbled, "Would have been easier if I had something other than 'birdie' to call it. Hermione brought up the idea of a defence club by the way,"
Draco made an interested hum, "Has she now?"
"Yes," Harry said stiffly, "I told her I'd think about it. We need to talk about it - properly. It could go so wrong," Harry said grimly, "And it's going to take up a lot of time," he added, "Can we go to the Room today?"
Draco gave another hum, this one long and contemplative, "Yes," he said slowly, "But it will have to be later - I've agreed to study with Granger today,"
"Have you?" Harry asked curiously.
"Yeah," Draco said with a sigh, "She's been asking me all week, and I said yes so long as she stops trying to get me to call her by her first name," he grumbled.
"And I've got Quidditch practice after lunch - so it'll probably have to be after dinner,"
"Quidditch practice?" Draco perked up immediately, "Can I come?"
"I dunno'," Harry said hesitantly, "Ron was still walking funny on Sunday last week,"
Draco's face fell, "How about I train with you instead?" e said hopefully, "I promise not to throw anything at you,"
"Well, that will be a step up from Angelina - she kept pelting golf balls at my face yesterday,"
"See! You could race me for the snitch instead!" Draco crowed, triumphant, clapping his hands together happily.
"I thought you weren't bothered that you're not on the Quidditch team anymore?" Harry said slyly, but Draco only shrugged.
"I'm not, but it's always fun messing around on broomsticks - I loved flying as a child,"
"Flying at Hogwarts was one of my first happy memories," Harry said fondly, and it took him a few paces before he realised that Draco had stopped, "What?"
Draco hesitated, his expression faltering, "That's really sad, Harry," for a moment, they simply looked at one another, as Harry was reminded once again, of the sorry state of his childhood; when it became clear that Harry couldn't think of anything to say, Draco strode forward and gripped his shoulders tightly, "Never again - right?" Still surprised by the fury any discussion of the Dursley's inspired in Draco, he could only nod, "Good. Come on - let's get some breakfast before Granger locks me in the library with her."
Ron had watched Draco warily when he arrived at the quidditch pitch that afternoon, and said pleadingly, "I'm not training with him again, am I?"
Draco's grin had a distinctive predatory edge to it, "Don't worry Weasley, I'm here for Potter, not you,"
"I don't remember putting you in charge of our training tactics, Malfoy," Angelina said coolly, her eyes narrowing on the blonde, and flicking down to the Nimbus 2001 in his hands.
"No," Draco agreed, "But what better way to train a seeker, than to train them against another seeker? Right?"
Angelina breathed out heavily through her nose, and said through her teeth, "Fine," and nothing more was said on the topic.
Fifteen minutes later found Harry and Draco flying lazy circles around one another, eyes bouncing around the pitch and hunting for the snitch.
"Okay, I was lying," Draco said suddenly, breaking their comfortable silence.
"Lying about what?" Harry said absently, his attention focussed on finding the stitch.
"About not being disappointed about not being on the Quidditch team anymore,"
"I knew it!" Harry crowed, losing focus entirely.
Draco rolled his eyes, "I'm mostly not disappointed," Draco clarified, "But I will miss playing against you," Harry couldn't help the small smile on his face.
"Yeah, I'll miss playing against you too," Harry said warmly.
"Well, it's not too late," and Harry noticed a split second too late when Draco's focus shifted, and he was gone, the sudden burst of speed nearly tipping Harry off of his own broom; Harry tried to take chase but didn't get far at all before he heard Draco's excited whoop as he caught the snitch, "You bastard!"
Dinner was a strange affair. While Harry was expecting Draco to join him, Ron, and Hermione for their evening meal, he wasn't expecting Pansy to, and he certainly wasn't expecting Blaise to seat himself smoothly next to Ginny when she abandoned her fourth year friends for them.
"Good evening," he said, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones.
Ginny tucked her red hair behind her ear in response, and said, "Hey,"
It they said anything else to one another that meal, then Harry didn't catch it, but he certainly spotted all of the strangely charged glances that passed between them. He really hoped he wasn't there when Ron found out about this - though knowing his emotional intelligence, it could take a while. His eyes briefly caught Pansy's, and by the resigned look in them, he guessed she'd noticed the pair as well. She rolled her eyes and returned to her dinner.
"Did you read the paper this morning?" Hermione asked him, leaning forward slightly and blocking Ron's view of Ginny and Blaise.
"I never read the paper Hermione," he reminded her, and she smirked slightly.
"I don't know how Cho does it - but there was an article about the Minister denying that Ministry sanctioned attacks against student's owls were taking place. It was only small, but it was there," she said smugly.
"I wonder how many complaints there have been that just haven't made it to the paper," Harry mused.
"A lot - what do you think I keep sending to my solicitor?" said Draco, "Every time I send her a letter, I tag on at least three more complaints for her to take forward on my behalf with the ministry. It's not doing much, and it's really racking up my billable hours, but what better way to spend my galleons," he flashed Hermione a smile, and then turned to Harry, "You ready?" Harry spooned the last of his casserole into his mouth, and nodded, pushing himself away from the table.
"Where are you two going?" Hermione asked curiously.
"They're going to 'just hang out somewhere'," Pansy said with sarcastic finger quotes - the first thing she had said the entire meal.
"Fuck you, Pansy," Draco said cheerfully, taking Harry by the wrist and pulling him along out of the hall, and towards the Room of Requirement.
As Harry expected, they were greeted by the usual grainy piano music when they entered the Room, but he noticed immediately that the song was much simpler than the ones he had heard previously - it sounded as if a child were playing. Draco froze as the door swung closed behind them, before taking a deep shuddering breath, and continuing as normal. They both eyed the now completely bare office (except for the silver filing cabinet in the corner), before ignoring it in favour of seating themselves at the kitchen table.
"Right then," Draco said, business like, "this defence group - what happened last time?"
Harry frowned, "Does it matter what happened last time? The past is not the future - right? Anything could happen now,"
Draco shrugged, "Nothing wrong with learning from the past if we can," well Harry supposed he couldn't argue with that.
"Well, last time we all met up at the Hogs Head to discuss forming a defensive group, but we were overheard by a wizard who sold us out to the Ministry, which is why the educational decree disbanding groups and teams was brought into effect,"
"Why is a grown wizard telling on a bunch of teenagers?" Draco asked curiously, leaning forward.
"Ah, I can't quite remember the in's and out's of it, but I'm pretty sure he was in legal trouble - something to do with exploding toilets I think - and he informed on us to get the charges dismissed. Anyway - so he grassed us up, but we carried on obviously. Everyone who wanted to be involved was asked to sign a bit of parchment that was jinxed so that if someone betrayed us, we'd know who - not that we told anyone that though, obviously; Hermione's idea," he added, and Draco looked quietly impressed, " And then we brought everyone to the Room," he gestured with a sweeping arm to their surroundings, "and came up with our group name. Everything was pretty great for months and months, until Marietta Edgecombe told Umbridge about us - and you can probably remember how that went," Harry said dryly.
Draco only grinned and said, "I got you good,"
Harry rolled his eyes and continued, "Yes, congratulations, anyway - I was dragged to Dumbledore's office, and he ended up taking the fall for us and leaving the school, so I didn't get expelled,"
"How'd he swing that?" Draco asked curiously.
"Because we called ourselves the DA - the Defence Association, or Dumbledore's Army. He told Fudge that he'd put us up to it and implied he was building a force against the Ministry,"
Draco nearly choked on his laughter, "And Fudge believed him? That he was building an army of teenagers?"
"I think he just wanted any opportunity to get rid of Dumbledore - it was pretty entertaining to watch," Harry said while Draco calmed his chortles.
"I bet it was," Draco said, his voice still full of amusement, "Anyway - what are you thinking? About forming another club or not?"
Here, Harry hesitated, "I think it's a terrible risk," he admitted, "It could get us into all kinds of trouble - we could end up expelled," he said darkly, "and it would be more than just us who would suffer for that," Harry reminded him, "we can hardly take down Voldemort if they've snapped our wands. And it would take up a good chunk of our time as well, though that's less of an issue I suppose - I think we've established over the last two weeks that there's not a whole lot for us to do regarding defeating Voldemort from here," Harry couldn't help but feel disappointed that they weren't making great sweeping steps towards their ultimate goal, "not until we have the cup, and have figured out how to get the ring too. Anyway, back to the point - starting a defence club is an unwise choice," Harry finished firmly, and Draco waited a beat before saying:
"But?"
Harry folded immediately, "But we absolutely have to do it," he said, sounding almost desperate, "Not only will our entire year fail their OWL if we don't, but they're all going to be significantly less able to defend themselves in the event of another 'Battle of Hogwarts' type scenario too. I know the goal is to be rid of Voldemort before he can start another war, but we're not infallible Draco, anything could happen that could cause us to fail - we should prepare for all scenarios,"
The corner of Draco's mouth twitched up into a fond smile, as if he'd known the conclusion Harry would come to all along, and had simply been waiting for Harry to decide for himself, "So we start the group," Draco concluded, and Harry nodded, "is there anything we can do differently? To make it less risky," he clarified.
Harry shrugged, "We could host the meeting at The Three Broomsticks instead? More Hogwarts students, but we may be more difficult to overhear. Worse that happens is that the educational decree comes in anyway,"
Draco nodded slowly, "Anything else?"
"We should change the name - I don't think involving Dumbledore in it is a good idea. Ultimately he's the only thing keeping Voldemort out of Hogwarts once he comes back to full power. I'd rather not risk us completely cocking everything up, and then Hogwarts being overrun by Death Eaters trying to find me in his absence,"
Draco was quiet for a moment, tapping his finger mindlessly against the dining room table, before he finally spoke, "I disagree,"
"You disagree?" Harry said slowly, and Draco nodded.
"I think we keep the name the same. If we get caught, we're going to need a scapegoat - and I'd argue that either of us being expelled, is a considerably larger blow to our cause, than Dumbledore leaving the school," Harry bit his lip as he contemplated Draco's suggestion, "Not only that, it might be useful at some point to have Dumbledore out of the school, and out of our way,"
"I wouldn't particularly worry about him getting in the way," Harry said shrewdly, "I think he's proven himself perfectly fallible over our school years. I mean, last year one of his close friends was an imposter, and he didn't notice a thing. And he didn't notice the fact that Quirrell had Voldemort sticking out the back of his head either,"
"Still a good scapegoat, though," Draco pointed out, and Harry had to agree that he was, "So, we're going to have the meeting at the Three Broomsticks, but we're going to keep the name?" Harry nodded, "What about Edgecombe?"
"What about her?" Harry said, confused.
"Are we letting her become part of the group, if she comes to the meeting?"
"Oh! Eh," Harry scrunched his face up contemplatively, before shrugging and nodding, "Yeah, whatever - what excuse could we give if we tried to ban her anyway? And just because she sold us out last time, doesn't mean she will this time," Harry pointed out, "The past is not the future remember," with an obvious reluctance, Draco nodded, and Harry moved on to the thing that had been bothering him since early July, "Have you had any ideas about getting the ring?"
Draco shook his head, and released a weary sigh, "You?"
"I've got nothing," Harry said, keeping his feelings of creeping concern out of his voice.
"We've got time," Draco said with conviction, "Loads of time," and Harry wished he had Draco's confidence.
Harry made the unanimous decision, to wait for Hermione to come to him again about forming a defence club. In the meantime, he tried to push his way through his classes, as the initial veneer of odd excitement surrounding returning to school had faded way, and he was left feeling unbelievably frustrated that he was having to repeat this period of his life. Homework was becoming especially tedious, though Harry was increasingly impressed by how much of the curriculum he actually remembered, and it did make his essays significantly easier to write when he was doing them off the cuff, rather than pouring over a book.
Defence Against the Dark Arts classes were painful, and Harry had resorted to actually reading the textbook in an attempt to drive away boredom. On the occasions were Umbridge wasn't looking directly at him, Harry took the opportunity to try and practice his wandless nonverbal magic - he'd not managed anything spectacular, but he had achieved a very weak diffindo on the stitching of her clothing, and an even weaker shrinking spell on her shoes. He hadn't seen any significant change, but the sleeve of her most frequently worn pink jacket was definitely starting to fray, and he was positive he'd seen her looking down at her feet with a frown.
Friday
Harry couldn't sleep; it had been a week since Hermione had brought up the defence class, and it was all he could think about. He was thinking about lesson plans, about who might join, about whether or not keeping the name was a good idea, and finally, about whether or not any of this was a good idea. He'd tossed and turned for a good hour, before he'd given up and taken himself down to the common room. The fire had burnt out, and so he reignited it with a quick incendio, before slumping down onto the sofa, and resigning himself to a long evening awake, and alone. He wished he and Draco shared dormitories - he knew that speaking to him would make him feel better, and if Grimmauld Place had been anything to go by, he thought Draco would have been strangely accommodating of having his sleep disturbed.
It was well past three in the morning by the time Harry's eyes actually started to droop.
Frustration and longing clenched and squirmed in Harry's gut at the sight of the door, at the end of the long corridor he was stood in. He found himself abruptly in front of it, and he reached out his hand to caress the doorknob. He didn't attempt to open it - he knew that it wouldn't. Instead, he resigned himself to fantasising about what lay beyond it, and dreaming about what he would do once he had it in his possession. He trailed his index finger down the door, his long nail catching in the grain of the wood, and a new feeling coiled in Harry's belly - fear. This finger - this long, pale appendage with long, translucent nails - it wasn't his. Panic clawed at his brain, making it hard to think - he needed to get out. He shouldn't be here. He might realise. And if he realised, if he looked into Harry's mind and saw the truth, then all would be lost. He needed to get out, now, and quickly. He needed out!! Right now - outoutoutout -
"Harry Potter?" Harry gasped himself awake and let out a little scream at the enormous eyes that were peering at him an inch from the end of his nose, and Dobby the house elf jumped back in alarm.
"D-Dobby?" he said incredulously, panting with a hand pressed over his hammering heart, "What are you doing?"
"Dobby is very sorry, Harry Potter," Dobby said earnestly, twisting his hands in his lap and hesitantly leaning closer, "Harry Potter was making noises in his sleep - Dobby worried he was having a nightmare,"
Still gasping, Harry waved away his anxious apology, "Don't worry about it," he swallowed, and sat himself up straighter, "What are you doing in the common room Dobby?"
"Dobby is returning Harry Potter's owl, sir," Dobby gestured to the bird cage on the floor in front of him, and Hedwig gave him a hoot of greeting.
"Oh - thanks Dobby,"
Dobby's expression brightened, "Dobby wanted to thank you sir, for coming to visit Dobby,"
"That's okay, thank you for feeding us," Harry smiled tiredly at him, and checked his watch - it was four in the morning; it was a good job it was Saturday.
"Dobby," the elf said started hesitantly, "was very surprised to see Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy together," he eyed Harry closely, a question clearly on the tip of his tongue, but something was holding him back, and so Harry spoke as if he was answering this unspoken question (he could probably guess what it was).
"Yeah, we're friends now - we have been for a few months. He's not like he was. He's changed a lot,"
Dobby nodded, his ears wobbling as he did so, "Dobby can see - he is much kinder than he was," Harry hummed his agreement, "Dobby does wonder what made Draco Malfoy change," but Harry had nothing to say to that, as the truth would have given too much away about them both, but Dobby filled in the silence with his own assumption, "Perhaps it is being Harry Potter's friend that changed him,"
Harry gave a tight smile, and said, "Maybe ."
Thursday
"Mister Potter," Harry's heart dropped. He had been about to follow Ron and Hermione out of the potion's classroom, when Professor Snape had called his name coolly, disdain dripping from every syllable, "Please remain behind,"
Ron and Hermione looked at him nervously, "Go on," he said, "Tell Sprout I'll be late," they nodded, still looking suspiciously at Snape, before leaving the classroom.
"Leave us, Mister Malfoy - I assure you, you will be able to traipse after him again come dinner time," Snape sneered at the blonde, who scowled, and exchanged a glance with Harry, before reluctantly doing as he was told, and exiting the classroom. Now alone, Snape locked the door with a flick of his wand, and beckoned Harry closer, "I need to inspect your wound, Potter," and he perched himself on a stool, and gestured at the one opposite him for Harry to take. As always seemed to happen when someone brought his scar to his attention, Harry was suddenly hyper aware of it, and the way that his shirt collar rubbed harshly against it. He resisted the urge to probe the tender skin though, knowing Snape would only have some snide comment for him if he did. Instead, he took a seat as instructed, and sat still, waiting for Snape to make his verdict.
Snape illuminated the tip of his wand with a flick, and said, "Open your collar," before acting as if Harry didn't exist, and as if he was merely peering at an interesting crack in the castle walls, rather than at a human being. If he was honest, Harry couldn't blame him - he didn't particularly enjoy having to be in such close proximity with the potions master either, and he tried his best to ignore how uncomfortable he felt. If Snape was satisfied, or dissatisfied, with the progress of Harry's healing, he kept it close to his chest until he was finally ready to speak.
"You may do your button up again," he said, leaning back out of Harry's space and appraising him with a considering gaze, "You have been undertaking the regime of care I set for you?"
"Yes Professor,"
"Every night?" Snape said sharply, and Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Yes Professor,"
Snape paused again, searching Harry's expression for something, "Have you had any more visions, or dreams? The kind of which I spoke of at the beginning of term?" his tone was casual, but the look in his eye told a different story; Harry couldn't blame him. He'd have been disturbed as well if he'd accidentally gleamed a vision from the mind of a fifteen-year-old of him being murdered.
Harry had been about to deny it, when he realised that wasn't strictly true, and he always err'd on the side of telling talented ligilimence the truth where possible, "Actually, yes Professor - just one. Last Friday, I dreamt about a long corridor, and a door at the end of it. And all I could think, was how desperate I was to see what was on the other side, and how frustrated I was that the door wouldn't open,"
Snape had gone very still, his eyes fixed on Harry's, "What of your occlumency shields?"
Harry shrugged, "I was tired - didn't fall asleep till nearly three. They must have failed,"
Snape let out a heavy breath through his nose, "I cannot stress the importance of you reinforcing those shields, Potter," he said seriously, and for the first time possibly ever, Harry didn't feel like the Potion's Professor was looking down his nose at him, "They are your mind's only defence against unwanted attack or intrusion - do you understand?" Harry nodded silently, "Good - you may leave. Continue administering the dittany as I instructed, and I will see you again about this matter in a month or so," Harry noticed that he didn't comment on the improvement, or as he already knew, the lack of improvement of the state of his neck, "I believe Mister Malfoy is waiting for you in the corridor, despite my instruction," he finished dryly, turning his back on Harry in a clear dismissal.
Unsurprisingly, Draco was indeed waiting for him in the corridor, kicking his heel back against the wall impatiently, "He's turned into a right prick recently," Draco muttered as they marched their way up from the dungeon, both of them late and only Harry with a legitimate excuse, "and I can't tell if it's an act in case the Dark Lord asks after me from the other Death Eaters - or if he's genuinely pissed off with me,"
"Well, he did spend six weeks having dinner with Sirius, so I can't imagine that endeared you to him," Harry pointed out, but Draco only grunted.
Friday Again
The next night, Hermione finally brought up the topic of forming a defence group again.
"Have you thought about it?" she said hesitantly over her charm's homework in the Gryffindor common room.
"Yeah - and I think we should," Hermione let out a sigh of relief, "How are we getting other people on board? We can't just walk around and ask people - there's no way Professor 'Stop-Students-From-Gaining-Practical-Skills' is going to be on board with this,"
"No - we definitely can't," she agreed, "I was thinking that we get the word out to trustworthy people who are interested, and then organise to meet up at the first Hogsmeade weekend - away from the castle where we haven't got to worry about her breathing down our neck,"
"What, The Three Broomsticks?" said Ron, popping a jellybean into his mouth and grimacing at the taste.
Hermione shook her head, "No, I was thinking the Hog's Head - it's much less popular, so there shouldn't be any other students in there,"
"Actually, I think we should we stick with The Three Broomsticks," Harry said firmly, "We'll stand out like a sore thumb at the Hog's Head - and if it's as unpopular as you say it is, we're at much greater risk of being overheard. At least at The Three Broomsticks we'll blend in and should be drowned out by all the other students,"
Hermione didn't look convinced, "But surely a huge group of us will look strange," she said slowly.
"We'll look strange no matter where we go Hermione," Harry reasoned, "At least we won't be overheard at The Three Broomsticks," she hesitated, "it's a risk either way - but I absolutely think that the Hog's Head is a bigger one,"
"Okay," she said slowly, "if you're sure,"
"I am," she nodded, and returned to her homework, but she still didn't look confident. If he was honest, Harry wasn't sure he was either.
Hosgmeade Weekend
When the Hogsmeade weekend rolled around, Harry had been unsurprised to find Draco waiting for him to the side of the school gates. Seeing him, Ron had given a small sigh, and, knowing that he would only be pushed to one side anyway, stepped back slightly to allow Draco to fall into step with Harry. Draco gave him a knowing smirk and received a withering glare for his trouble.
"You ready?" Draco said lowly.
"Not even remotely," Harry grumbled, "I know it's a good idea, but it's also such a bad idea - we can't get expelled, we just can't! And we can't get these kids expelled either - it'll ruin their lives!" he said anxiously, shaking his arms a little to try and relieve himself of some of his nervous energy.
Draco gave his elbow a reassuring squeeze, "We won't, and they won't either," he said soothingly, "we just need to make sure we keep the old name - and try not to get caught in the first place," he added, "I invited Pans and Blaise, by the way,"
"And they're coming?" Harry said incredulously, unable to quite believe that either one of them would voluntarily spend extra time with the Gryffindor's that Draco had ingratiated himself with.
"Yeah - they weren't difficult to persuade actually. Pans is worried about her OWLs, and Blaise - well," he chuckled, "all I had to do was mention that the Weasley girl was going to be there, and he was all over me like dragon pox - in as much as Blaise is ever enthusiastic about anything that is,"
"He's got a definite air of mystery about him - with the cool, deep voice, and the not smiling ever," Harry glowered at a spot thirty feet ahead of them and lowered his voice in his best attempt at an impression of the Slytherin, and said, "Hey,"
Draco chuckled, "Blaise has always been too cool for the rest of us," he admitted, "just need to speed run him past the part where he's a total prick about it - we're doing well, I think! Ginny's definitely helping with that - oh, uh," he stumbled over his words suddenly, "I hope it's not awkward for you," he said hesitantly, and Harry snorted.
"Not at all - I miss my Ginny, but I don't miss her like that ,"
Draco hummed, "If you say so," he said dubiously, "anyway, can we look around the shops a bit first," he glanced at his watch, "we've got an hour or so until we're all meant to meet up,"
"Hermione's booked us a table in the corner - I'm hoping we can use some discreet privacy charms to doubly ensure we aren't overheard," Harry's train of thought was briefly interrupted by the sight of Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott ahead of them, hovering at a fork in the road, "what are they doing, do you think?" he mused.
"Trying to look intimidating probably," Draco said scornfully, and as they passed the trio, he offered them a smug grin and said, "alright there Gregg, Vince, Theo," Crabbe and Goyle practically snarled, cracking their knuckles, while Nott looked mildly uncomfortable, "Have a good day now, won't you lads. Try not to beat up any first years, if you can help it!"
"Fuck you, Malfoy," Crabbe snarled, and Draco spun on the spot to face him, but continued walking backwards so that he stayed side by side with Harry.
"Now, now - I'd mind your manners if I were you," Draco warned lowly, "if you know what's good for you," Crabbe bared his teeth, but had nothing more to say, "That's what I thought," Draco said to himself, turning back around.
"They're really not your biggest fans any more are they," said Hermione, voice full of concern, "Are they causing problems for you in the dormitory?"
"They tried - a few tried actually," Draco said casually, and Harry's heart clenched for a moment with worry.
"What? You told me about Crabbe and Goyle - what else have people done?!" he cried, but Draco waved him away.
"Nothing you need to worry about - I put them in their place quickly enough. Nothing like a demonstration of power to stop a Slytherin bully in their tracks,"
"What did you do?" Hermione asked warily, and Ron looked intrigued.
"Enough - only what they were planning to do to me. Worked in my favour though. They've all mostly left me alone, and it persuaded more than a few to my way of thinking," Harry thought back to the extra Slytherins who had stood to toast him and Dumbledore at the end of the previous term.
"Nott looked a bit shifty, didn't he," mused Ron, glancing back over his shoulder, "didn't look exactly thrilled to be throwing his lot in with those two,"
"I'm pretty sure he wants out," Draco said, "but he's not in as fortunate a position as I was - he could emancipate himself, but he doesn't have the gold to support himself, and he doesn't have the friends I do," Draco knocked their shoulders together, "I don't think there's a lot I can do to help - and he's currently being a massive twat on and off, which is making things difficult," he said frankly.
At Hogsmeade, they separated - Harry with Draco, and a reluctant Ron with Hermione (he'd looked over his shoulder with pleading eyes as he followed Hermione into a book shop).
"Come on," Draco muttered, fixing a hand around Harry's elbow to drag him down the high street, and into Dervish and Banges. Harry eyed the sneakoscope standing on its point on the shelf closest to the door and was surprised when it didn't immediately start spinning and whistling in alarm - part of him assumed that they'd set off every sneakoscope going, since they were technically being deceptive one hundred percent of the time.
"What are we in here for?" Harry muttered into the back of Draco's neck, his fingers around his bicep, as they approached the counter, and the wizard behind it.
Draco merely tapped the hand around his arm and continued forward, "Good afternoon, sir," Draco said, the picture of politeness, producing a small satchel from within his own larger school bag, "I was hoping to have an undetectable extension charm applied to this bag?"
The wizard, who had intense blue eyes, and an exceptionally bushy black moustache under his nose, glanced down at the bag in Draco's hand, "Aye, I can do that - might be cheaper for you to buy a bag with the charm already applied though," he inclined his head to the pink, feather covered bag on the display to their right, "The charms applied to the fabric before manufacturing - it's easier, and costs less,"
Draco wrinkled his nose at the sight of the handbag, "No thank you, I'll pay the extra for this one,"
The wizard nodded, and took the bag, "It'll take about an hour - and I need half the cost up front,"
When they were outside of the shop again, Harry turned to Draco, and said, "Why didn't you just buy the bag that already had the charm? Is it cause' it was pink?"
Draco narrowed his eyes at him, "I have nothing against the colour pink - but nothing needs that many feathers. Besides - having a bag that stands out defeats the purpose,"
"And what is the purpose?" Harry said curiously.
"To be able to carry lots of items, discreetly," Draco said shrewdly, "I don't even know if it'll come in handy - but better to be prepared. I'm anticipating that we're going to be lugging basilisk fangs around with us as some point," Draco reminded him.
"We used one when we were on the run looking for Horcruxes last time," Harry admitted, "it was very handy - I'm pretty sure Hermione charmed the bag herself though,"
"Of course she did," Draco grumbled, "I tried," he admitted reluctantly, "but I couldn't quite get the feather light bit to work - the bag weighed a tonne. Plus, this way I'll get the paperwork necessary not to get the bloody thing confiscated if anyone notices it - Ministry's a bit funny about the use of expansion charms," Draco had begun to steer them towards another shop, Dogweed and Deathcap, "Come on," but the pungent smell of garlic and rotting flesh made Harry somewhat reluctant.
"I'm okay thanks - I'll wait out here," Draco rolled his eyes, and muttered under his breath about Harry being a child, before he disappeared inside the shop.
Alone now, Harry turned his attention to the street around him to pass the time while he waited for Draco. He watched as a tiny witch carrying an extraordinary tower of cauldrons exited Ceridwen's Cauldrons - they created a kind of pyramid above the witch, and threatened to knock into every shop sign she walked past. Then he watched as a wizard left Gladwrags, a distinctly smug look on his face, and with what was obviously a brand new, and excessively tall top hat, complete with an enchanted songbird made of cotton thread that was dancing and singing around the hats brim. Harry smiled to himself, and shifted his attention again, and this time he spotted a shop he'd never actually been in before: Dominic Maestro's Music Shop.
Harry was moving before he'd even had time to consciously think about it, his mind focussed on the sound of gradually degrading piano solos. Stepping into the shop, he was greeted by the music of a brass band, and Harry gained the immediate impression that he didn't quite belong. There were certainly no other students in this shop, and the only other customer was currently in deep discussion with the shop owner (who Harry presumed was Dominic Maestro) about an enormous, gleaming grand piano. Maestro's eyes met his over the shoulder of his current customer, and Harry gave him a polite nod, before he turned his attention to the rest of the shop, increasingly convinced that he wouldn't find what he wanted here. Working his way to the back of the shop, following the sound of the music, Harry eyed the instruments he passed curiously - most he recognised, but there were a few that he had never seen before in his life, including one that appeared to be just but a thin metal aerial hovering a centimetre or so above a flat oval marble disk.
When a gramophone came into view, a record spinning under its needle, Harry thought he might have found what he wanted after-all. Turning around a tight corner into the very back of the shop, Harry was greeted by a tight nook, made even tighter by the floor to ceiling shelves on each wall, and the four containers in the centre of the space, all of which were full to the brim with records - some big, some small, and the odd one that was barely bigger than the palm of Harry's hand. Feeling more than a little overwhelmed, Harry stepped forward, determined to find at least one record he recognised. Five minutes later, and he hadn't come even remotely close to finding a record he recognised the name of, and suddenly, he could barely remember the names of any of the music that had been in the Room of Requirement.
"Can I help you?" The sudden voice made Harry jump and clutch his chest. Maestro had appeared in the narrow corner bend that led to the rest of the shop and was watching Harry with a vaguely suspicious look on his face.
It took Harry a moment before he recovered enough to speak, "Yes actually - I'm trying to buy music for a friend, but I barely know what any of the songs are called, only what they sound like," he said weakly, "and I don't really know what I'm looking for,"
Maestro paused, before his expression softened slightly, "What kind of music?"
"Piano solos," Harry said immediately, "All classical,"
Maestro nodded, and turned to the gramophone against the wall, and removed the record that had been spinning lazily, and the brass band stopped, "Let's listen to a few, and see if you recognise any," he said kindly.
Twenty minutes later, Harry was walking out of the shop with four small albums in his bag ('They're called singles,' Maestro had said, exasperated), and feeling eternally grateful to the shop owner, who had allowed him to listen to song after song. He had humoured him when he'd hummed the tune of the song he most frequently heard playing in the Room of Requirement, and he had only rolled his eyes at Harry's smug expression when his rendition allowed him to immediately pick out the correct piece. Harry didn't quite know what he was going to do with his purchases - the idea of presenting them to Draco made him feel faintly sick with nerves. What if Draco didn't like them? What if they made him feel even worse about his absent wife and son? Seeing Draco emerging from J. Pippins Potions, looking mildly frustrated, Harry pushed his concerns to the back of his mind - they could wait.
"There you are," Draco said grumpily, spotting him across the square and coming closer, "You been in the shops?" Harry nodded, "Get anything?" Harry shrugged, and Draco rolled his eyes but didn't press further, "Fine - be mysterious," he glanced at his watch, "Come on, we better get a move on. Only got five minutes before we're all meant to meet up,"
"Did you get what you were after?" Harry asked as they approached the Three Broomsticks.
"Not everything," Draco muttered, catching the door of the Three Broomsticks before it could close behind two exiting students, and gesturing Harry onwards, "After you," Harry stepped over the threshold, and immediately spotted Ron and Hermione in the furthest corner at the back of the pub, a butterbeer each, and at least twenty additional, empty seats surrounding them; Harry made to follow Draco to the bar, but was stopped by a hand on the small of his back, "I'll get our drinks, you go and sit down - butterbeer?" There was something about Draco's hand pressing firmly against him, as if placing his hand there was the most natural thing in the world, that made Harry shudder just a little.
"Okay - thanks, I'll get the next one," but Draco only smiled and shook his head, before nudging him in the direction of Ron and Hermione. He hoped he had his light flush under control by the time he was stood in front of Ron and Hermione, but judging by the slight frown on Hermione's face, he hadn't been successful.
"You okay Harry? You're looking a bit hot," she said.
Harry waved away her concerns, and took the seat next to her, dragging another chair closer for Draco to take when he had their drinks, "M' fine," he muttered, "How many are we expecting then?" he asked, nodding at the quantity of chairs they'd gathered around themselves.
"Oh," Hermione said lightly, "A fair few - they should be here any minute," as if on cue, the bell above the door jingled, and Pansy and Blaise stepped into the pub, closely followed by the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan, and then a stream of other students, all of whom Harry recognised from the first version of Dumbledore's army. Draco was just passing him his butterbeer when the last of the group had finished pilling in. He offered Luna a smile when she waved enthusiastically at him and watched with interest as the Weasley twins ordered all of their drinks and held out their hands for the others gold.
"Pans," Draco said in greeting as she and Blaise took a seat towards the front.
She grimaced, "Don't be mad with me," she said firmly, and Draco shook his head in confusion, before he noticed the last two arrivals at the same time as Harry. Bringing up the rear, and circumnavigating the bar entirely, was Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, and for a moment, Harry couldn't take his eyes off the younger girl. She had an intense look in her eye as she peered about the pub, self-assured and confident as she pulled her more reluctant, older sister towards the back corner of the pub. He could see the ghost of the woman she would grow into in the slight upwards tilt of her nose, her narrow jawline, and her severe cheek bones.
Next to him, Draco froze.
"What the hell Pansy?" Draco hissed, "I told you not to tell anyone else!"
"I didn't," she answered coldly, "Greengrass the younger overheard me and Blaise in the common room, and wanted in. And Daphne is desperate not to fail her OWLs,"
Harry could hear Draco's back teeth grinding together in his fury, and he squeezed the others knee briefly under the table, "Fine," Draco spat, very deliberately relaxing as the two Greengrass's took a seat towards the back, "But if this goes tits up, I'm blaming you," Pansy only scowled.
Draco's discomfort practically radiated from him, and he kept his gaze firmly away from the Slytherin girls at the back of the room as the rest of their group took a seat. Harry eyed the arriving groups curiously, ticking off names mentally as people sat down (he noticed with amusement that Ginny sat herself next to Blaise, but that other than a brief greeting, neither of them spoke to the other). When finally, the last seat was taken, he realised with interest that there was no Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, or Terry Boot. He noticed though, that Marietta Edgecombe had been encouraged once again by Cho to attend the meeting, and she didn't look particularly happy about it.
Next to him, Hermione cleared her voice nervously, and stood. Almost at the same time, Harry and Draco withdrew their wands, and cast the same privacy spell over their corner of the pub. They exchanged knowing smiles, as the din of the pub around them was suppressed enough that a surprised Hermione could be heard clearly.
"Right - ah, thank you everyone for coming," Hermione said hesitantly, twisting her hands in front of her, "So, uh, we're all here because we had the idea of, ah, maybe making a kind of defence club? To study Defence Against the Dark Arts on our own - because there's no way we're learning anything from that awful woman," she said, and the murmurs of agreement seemed to spur her on, "And I mean - I mean learning properly. Not just the theory, but how to cast the spells too," Hermione licked her lips, and took a quick sip of her butterbeer, "and I don't just mean so we can pass our exams. I mean so we're ready to defend ourselves in the real world," she glanced briefly at Harry before soldiering on determinedly, "because, despite what the ministry says, V-Voldemort is back," the reaction of the group was instantaneous. Neville nearly choked on his beer, Edgecombe let out a little yelp, and Pansy went very pale very quickly, "So- so that's our plan. If you're interested -,"
"Where's the proof!" Zacharias Smith barked aggressively, "That You-Know-Who's back? Hmm?"
"Well, Dumbledore says -," Hermione started, but Smith interrupted her.
"Dumbledore says, because he says," all eyes were suddenly on Harry, "And I think we all have the right to know what makes him think You-Know-Who is back,"
"And who the fuck are you?" Draco sneered.
"Zacharias Smith,"
"Well shut the fuck up Zacharias Smith," Ron said angrily.
"Yeah, shut the fuck up," Draco agreed, "This isn't some show to come and make Harry talk about his near death experience - so if that's what you're here for you can fuck right off, right now," he jabbed a sharp finger at the door, "That's the door - I hope it hits you on the way out,"
Smith practically snarled, but stayed firmly in his seat, "Why are there Slytherin's here anyway?" He sneered, eyes flicking to Blaise and Pansy as well as Draco.
Harry scoffed, "You think Voldemort is going to spare them, just because they're in Slytherin?" and the room was suddenly silent again, "Voldemort doesn't care about schoolhouses. He doesn't care if you're a pureblood, not really - if you oppose him, he'll kill you all the same. And don't expect him to spare you just because you stay out of his way. Or that he'll spare you because, you're a half blood, not a muggle born. Voldemort is a megalomaniac - and if you're not with him, you're against him, and he will kill you, and everyone that you love," no one said a word, and all that could be heard was the muffled noise of the surrounding pub leaking through. Harry glanced at Draco out of the corner of his eye when he felt the blonde suddenly stiffen next to him.
"Right… well," Hermione started again, her voice coming out extremely high pitched and nervous, "as I was saying, if we're going to be learning defence," Harry stopped listening for a moment, looking at Draco's face and finding him gazing intently at the bar, "we need to figure out where we're going to do it," he followed his gaze, and found a witch covered head to toe in black robes, including a veil that covered her entire face, "and when, and how we're going to organise," Hermione jumped in surprise when Draco pushed his chair back, and stood abruptly.
A reassuring hand was pressed to the top of Harry's neck, and Draco said, "Carry on without me - I'll be back in a second. Weasley, make sure you tell this idiot to shut his mouth if you need to," Zacharias's mouth fell open in outrage, while Ron crossed his arms across his chest and stared him down, "and I agree with whatever Harry says," Harry watched him cross their little gathering, and march his way up to the bar.
"So, Potter's going to be teaching us?" Susan Bones asked politely, but Harry was only half listening, focussed on Draco and the witch he had stopped next to.
"Yes," answered Hermione when it was clear Harry wasn't going to speak.
"I don't mean to be rude - but what credentials does Potter have to be teaching us?" Harry's eyes flicked over to Daphne Greengrass at the back of the group, and then to the intense expression on her sister's face, before he looked back to Draco.
"I can produce a corporal patronus," Harry offered, still thinking about Draco, and watching him lean in closer to the witch with a grin. He'd noticed, over the last two months, that Draco's use of his first name seemed to fluctuate greatly, and he was starting to notice a pattern.
"Can you really?" aaid Susan Bones excitedly.
"Wow Harry, I didn't know you could do that," said Lee Jordan.
"I used it in third year to fight off about a hundred dementors," Harry added, watching as Draco clapped a familiar hand on the witch's shoulder. Draco always called him Harry when he was worried, he'd noticed. When Harry was upset - or when Harry needed defending.
"And in second year, he used the sword in Dumbledore's office to slay a basilisk," Neville added helpfully, and Ginny nodded in agreement, looking faintly ill at the memory. The Creevey brother's let out low whistles, and Lavender Brown gave a soft 'wow'.
"And don't forget about all the tasks he had to get through last year," said Cho, and for the first time Harry noticed how intensely her gaze was fixed on him.
"Yeah! Like the dragon!" said Luna airily, "That was amazing," Harry watched as Draco patted the witch on the back and began making his way back through to their corner.
"And the lake," said Parvati, and Harry finally brought his attention fully back to the conversation at hand when Draco took his seat again.
"Look," he said, "All of that stuff is all cool and flashy and stuff, but it's not exactly what I'm going to be teaching you," more than one person looked disappointed, "surviving when you're face to face with Voldemort, or any other dark wizard, is not about how much experience you have stealing dragon eggs, or - or slaying basilisks. It's about having a strong underpinning knowledge of defensive spells and using them - strong enough, so that you don't hesitate in defending yourself. Strong enough so that you know when to run, and when to stand your ground. This isn't a game," he said quietly, "and learning this stuff is going to be fun and exciting, and you're going to feel amazing when you succeed. But you need to remember that this stuff we're going to be learning, it could save your life one day,"
"Here, here!" cried Fred and George, raising a their butterbeers as one.
"Right then," said Hermione, looking strangely flushed in the aftermath of his speech, "We just need to figure out when to meet up - I think at least once a week,"
"It can't clash with Quidditch Practice," piped up Angelina.
"Nor ours," said Cho, and Zacharias nodded, but seemed reluctant to speak for fear or being told to shut up again.
"Fine, fine," said Hermione in frustration, "But this is more important than us just training for our OWLs - this is being able to defend ourselves against Voldemort!"
"I agree," said Ernie MacMillan pompously, "I, for one, am at a loss as to why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us. They are obviously in denial about You-Know-Who's return - but to have a teacher actively preventing us from using defensive magic!" he cried, shaking his head in disbelief, "It's outrageous,"
"We think that the Minister and Umbridge are trying to stop us learning Defensive spells because they've got some crazy idea that we're being trained like an army under Dumbledore," Harry said, hoping he wasn't planting the idea of their groups name too obviously, but Draco nodded his approval, and continued.
"Completely mad of course,"
"Actually, I think it makes perfect sense," piped up Luna serenely, "because Minister Fudge has got his own private army,"
"What?" Pansy had been unable to hold her tongue any longer at this piece of information, and had twisted in her seat to look over at Luna, "What on earth are you talking about Lovegood?"
"He's got an army of Heliopaths,"
Pansy's face dropped immediately.
"No, he's hasn't," Hermione snapped.
"Do you mean the mythical fire spirits?" Pansy said incredulously, and Luna nodded eagerly.
"You've heard of them?"
"They don't exist Luna," Hermione hissed.
"Oh yes they do," Luna said, just as angrily.
"Show me the proof!" cried Hermione.
"There are plenty of eye whiteness accounts," Luna said hotly, "Just because you're so narrow minded, that you need everything shoved under your nose before you'll believe it,"
"You're unhinged," said Pansy, though she didn't say it like it was an insult and was instead appraising Luna with interest.
"I think we're getting away from the point here," Draco said loudly over the top of them all, "We're meant to be deciding how to meet, and where,"
"Once a week sound good," said Lee.
"And without clashing with Quidditch training sessions, yes, we know," Harry said, before Angelina could.
"Now we just need to decide where," Hermione said hesitantly.
"I know somewhere," Draco said, before they could begin a debate about it, "We'll figure out a good time, and get the message out - yes?" They all nodded, and Hermione rummaged around in her bag, and produced a quill and parchment.
"I - I think we should all write out names down, so we know who was here. And I think we should agree not to tell anyone about what we're doing. So, if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge, or anyone else about what we're doing,"
There was the same hesitance about signing that Harry remembered - but Draco put a stop to it pretty quickly, snapping, "If you're coming Smith, then sign the fucking paper," no one else had any complaints that they were willing to say out loud in front of Draco. One by one they signed, coming forward and taking the quill and parchment in hand. When Astoria stepped forward, Draco shifted uncomfortably and became suddenly very interested in speaking to Hermione about their Arithmancy class.
On their walk back to Dervish and Banges to collect Draco's bag, Harry carefully broached the topic of the younger Greengrass, "So… Astoria,"
"Don't," Draco said immediately, shifting uneasily, "It's just so fucking weird - it sounds harsh, but I literally don't want anything to do with her," he admitted, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "but I don't want to make it weirder by avoiding her or something. She's done nothing wrong. But I just can't," he finished weakly, clearly frustrated at the situation he'd found himself in.
"Hey," Harry grabbed his arm before he could push the shop door open, and paused until he had Draco's full attention, "You keep Cho away from me - I'll keep Astoria away from you,"
Draco nodded gratefully, "Yeah, yeah okay," and Draco grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the shop after him.
They walked back to the castle in a comfortable silence - Harry had no idea where Ron and Hermione were, but he presumed they had headed back to the castle without him. He couldn't blame them. More and more of his time was being dedicated to Draco exclusively, and he wondered, not for the first time, if he was neglecting his old friends. His mind wandered back to The Three Broomsticks, and Draco's hand on his back as he ordered Harry's drink for him. At the thought of the bar, a witch dressed all in black popped into his head.
"Hey!" he slapped the back his hand against Draco's chest, "Who was the witch? At the bar?"
Draco frowned in confusion, before he realised what Harry was talking about, and a wide grin spread across his face, "Oh," he said with a chuckle, "That was Mundungus!"
Harry rolled his eyes, "I forgot I was still being followed about by the Order - he alright? What did you say?"
Draco's expression faltered slightly, "Ah - I asked him for a favour or two. I'm trying to get him to smuggle stuff for me," Draco admitted, "don't want to get my hopes up about it though, so I'll let you know if he comes through for me,"
"Alright - keep your secrets Mister Mysterious,"
Draco only smiled at him, his grey eyes flicking between Harry's green ones, and very briefly down to his mouth, before he spoke again, "We need to move the diadem really - if we're telling others about the Room, we want to move it to one only we can access," he explained.
Harry hummed his agreement, "Tomorrow?"
Draco nodded and looked forward to the school that loomed ahead of them before slinging his arm around Harry's neck, "Tomorrow."