Title: The Bleeding Eden
Author: toujouruspur
Rating: M (eventually)
Pairings: Draco/Harry, Ron/Hermione (others to come, but it would reveal some plot)
Disclaimer: The usual: I'm not creatively responsible for anything in this story besides the plot and the people I make up. I don't think I'll be quoting from others, but if I do I'll mention it.
Warnings: Slash (Male/Male) and a partial disregard of HBP.
Rehash: Dumbledore announced that some seventh year students would only be allowed four classes; Hermione was made head girl; and Draco found out that coming back to Slytherin wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped.
A/N: Thanks again for the comments people, I love feedback. Yes, poor rejected Draco...but hey! Harry's confused! Well either way...something will happen eventually ;) Thanks for reading
Chapter Seven: A Renewed House Unity
"You've no choice in the matter, why do you resist?"
"I have a choice, Lucius; you know just as well as I that I am indeed a powerful asset. Were I to die, your ties to me would become useless and your position with that snake considerably worsened." Narcissa Malfoy no longer looked at her husband when she spoke to him. It wasn't because she hated him or because she was disgusted by him, though she was both of those; it was because every time she looked into his eyes, she saw Draco looking back. It chilled her to think that Draco would grow to be anything like his father. So instead of turning to meet his stare, she instead gazed out of the window that had become her only connection to the outside world for some time now.
"I too have value, Narcissa."
"Money is not necessary, Lucius."
"You know that isn't what I am speaking of." His tone was low and deadly, and she knew without a doubt what he was referring to.
"I do."
"Then you know what must be done?"
"I do."
"Good, I expect to have your belongings collected and a carriage ready in thirty minutes." He left the room; he moved with grace and made no sound, but she could tell the moment he'd left.
She looked down to her left where, on her desk, there was a framed portrait of her only son. He was much younger and crouching in a thicket of tall grass that threatened to conceal him entirely. Through a few blades Narcissa could see him smiling; it wasn't a dark smile or a smug smile or any of the ones she'd seen on Lucius. It was an honest smile, so she kept it there always to remind herself that if Draco became like his father, it wasn't for lack of trying.
She sat at the desk and withdrew some pieces of parchment and a quill. As she wrote, her elegant handwriting became more strained and, as a result, more chaotic. Her hand moved in harder, forced strokes and her grip tightened around the frail quill. The instant she finished signing her signature, the quill snapped and a pool of black ink settled around the base of the paper. In one strong motion she heaved the ink bottle, quill, and paper off the desk, catching the photo frame by accident.
She stood and looked down at the photo, glass cracked in so many places that she could no longer see her son's smile, as it bled black ink onto the marble floor. Just for one instant, she allowed herself to cry; and then she composed herself and left the room, following the familiar path to the front door.
A carriage was expecting her.
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To Mr. Harry Potter,
Your presence has been requested at a meeting of your peers this morning at eleven o'clock in the Great Hall. Please be punctual.
Thank You,
Minerva McGonagall
Harry set his envelope and letter down on the pile Hermione and Ron had started, taking his seat opposite Ginny on a sofa near the fire.
"I wonder what he's got planned for us," Harry thought out loud, "you said they didn't mention anything at the prefects meeting on the train, Hermione?"
She was still a bit sullen from having received an invitation to the meeting. "What? Oh, yes, they didn't mention it."
"Well we should be going soon, right? I mean, it's only ten, but we'll have to eat."
"Leave it to you to think of food, Ron."
"Whatever, let's go, I'm starving," said Hermione, standing and walking towards the portrait hole so that they had no choice but to follow her. When they were all through, Hermione said, "Actually, you two go on ahead, I've got something I need to look up."
When she had left, Ron heaved a heavy sigh. "Glad to see you're enjoying her company, then," Harry said, smiling.
"You try listening to that for a few hours, see how much you want her to run off to the library."
"Can't argue with that. I can't tell you how many times when I was researching with her over the summer I'd stop and wish that one of us would get mauled by a hippogriff."
"Yeah, but you gotta love her."
"Do you?"
"Well…I don't know about that. I mean, not in that way at least. I guess we're getting there."
"Had sex yet?"
Ron stopped in his tracks at the forwardness in Harry's question. "My god, what's with you Harry? Last year you were all reserved…sort of…and now you're wearing flashy clothes and being really, really blunt."
Harry looked down at his clothes with a frown; they weren't that flashy, were they? Just a pair of "jeans" and a tight red shirt with some graphic logo he couldn't make out; something with a unicorn and a hippocamp. "I guess I've 'almost died' one too many times, Ron, knocked a screw loose." He kept walking and Ron took a few long strides to fall in step again.
"Seriously, what's up? Ginny said something about making people like you?"
Harry blushed. "I don't think those were her exact words, Ron. I guess I'm…growing up?"
"Well, good on you, mate! It only took seventeen years."
"Maybe I should be wishing for you to get mauled by a hippogriff."
They had reached the Great Hall and, much to Ron's chagrin, the food had already been cleared away. Instead, they saw that the house tables were pushed against the walls like they had been in the Yule ball, and the people who had already arrived were standing around talking with one another.
"We got here an hour early and there's no food? What are we going to do?"
"Relax, Weasley, you're not an hour early." They turned to see Blaise Zabinni looking at them from atop one of the tables where he sat cross-legged with a book perched on one knee. Harry couldn't help notice the way the Italian boy's dark curly hair fell across his face or the way his long, thin fingers were tapping the table on which he sat, pounding out a rhythm that Harry would have been more than happy to move to. She shook himself mentally; first Draco, now Blaise? What was this? Draco's kiss must have done something to him…. But even as he thought on it, memories rushed back to him; Harry staring just a few seconds too long at shirtless Wood in the Quiditch changing rooms, himself watching Cedric's toned frame jog a few paces ahead of him into the maze in fourth year.
"We're not?"
"No, it's going to start in a few minutes."
"Oh…well then why are you here? You're…" Ron was apparently lost on the right word.
"What, stupid?" Blaise suggested, and Ron blushed. Sure, Blaise wasn't top of the class, but he wasn't stupid. Why was he being so conversational anyway?
"No, I just didn't expect you here, that's all."
"Or to be talking to us," Harry said, trying to forget the time he'd walked in, accidentally of course, on Bill Weasley changing at the burrow.
"Well, after what happened at the end of last year, we Slytherins have to save some face, right? Can't do to have you all thinking we're going to be killing you in you sleep, per the dark lord's instruction."
"You're not, then?"
"Didn't say that, but it would make it easier if you weren't all on edge." He gave a wry grin before turning his attention back to his book.
"Oh good, it hasn't started yet!" They turned and saw Hermione rushing towards them with a few books tucked under one arm. "I was in the library for what seemed like hours, I was worried I might be late."
"Well, you couldn't have been there that long, only about ten minutes."
"Oh, that's not possible, I was there for at lease a half hour."
"That's strange…because we came straight here and we just got here…"
"Good morning, everyone!" They quieted and turned, as did the rest of the students, towards Professor Dumbledore who was standing where he had the previous night to better see them all. "I thank you all for coming. I believe we're all present except for…" The doors opened and someone rushed in. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, you're here now. We can begin."
Harry, who's mind was already exploring the past opportunities to linger in the changing rooms, shifted at the sound of Draco's name so that the blonde was the one undressing, not the tan muscular Wood. At this, his body began to have a horrifying reaction. Oh, fantastic! Harry thought, moving to sit on Blaise's table to better conceal himself. Ok, gross thoughts, gross thoughts…er….Dobby in women's underwear…er...Moaning Myrtle stripping…er…
"Now, you are all wondering why you're here, I assume? Actually, we have two orders of business. The first is with the prefects, excluding the heads. If all the prefects could gather round me? Everyone else, just wait a few moments and we'll be finished here shortly."
Ron moved towards the headmaster as Hermione came to sit next to Harry. "Is something wrong, Harry? You kind of freaked out there for a second." Harry heard a scoff to his right and looked to see Blaise smirking as he read.
"No, nothing's wrong, I just had a problem to take care of."
"Well, what is it, maybe I can help?" A second scoff, louder this time, and Harry glowered.
"No it was er…a fit of…leg itches."
"Oh, it was probably a Hubblypolka Bug, I hear we've been having those around here. Actually, I think one of these books might mention something…" She trailed off as she flipped through one of the dusty tomes she's borrowed.
"Hey, Potter; I know how to get rid of it," Blaise said in a voice so low only Harry could hear him. He looked over and saw Blaise miming a rather crude hand gesture and he quickly looked back to Hermione, blushing furiously. Blaise giggled behind him.
The prefects started making their way towards the door. "Oh, well, I'll find it for you later, Harry. Remind me, ok? I've got a lot to be getting on with and—"
"If the rest of you will please come here?"
They moved towards the headmaster, Harry's problem now alleviated, so that they formed a tight semi-circle around him. There were only a handful of them; Harry, Ernie, Hermione, Blaise, Lavender Brown, and a Slytherin girl whom Harry didn't recognize.
"Now, for those of you who don't know, there was a secret society of sorts formed at this school two years ago under the code name Dumbledore's Army." The headmaster winked at Harry. "Essentially, this group would meet and learn extra defense spells so that they might be better prepared should anything happen. During the commotion at the end of last year, a handful of students were involved in a fight against Death Eaters; each one was a member of Dumbledore's Army and each one escaped relatively unscathed. It is therefore my decision to restart this group, only this time it shall be made public.
"Every weekend in the evenings we will be holding classes for a group of students, fourth year and above, to be taught defensive spells. Each of you will be the teachers." There were some mixed reactions; Hermione beamed, Harry looked uneasy, Blaise looked confused, and Ernie, Lavender and the mystery girl had dropped their jaws.
"But Professor," the unknown protested, "what about studying?"
"And Quiditch?" Harry added.
"Well, this is the reason your schedules have been truncated. And, as for Quiditch well, I haven't yet announced it but there will be none this year. The Ministry has deemed it unsafe given present circumstances to have the student body concentrated somewhere outdoors, so it was one of their stipulations in allowing the school to reopen this year." There was a familiar note of finality in the old man's words that shooed all protests out of Harry's mind.
"Now, each of you will have a specific job. Miss Granger, you shall be in charge of organizing who will be at each meeting. Mr. Zabinni, you will be in charge of letting those people know. Mr. Macmillan will be in charge of rescheduling extra curricular meetings so that they do not interfere with these ones. Miss Dutra and Miss Brown, you both will be in charge of setting up the classrooms to be used so that they are suitable for each class. And finally, Mr. Potter, you will be in charge of deciding what is to be taught, and also making sure everyone teaching understands and is comfortable with it."
They all nodded their heads as the headmaster paused to let the information soak in.
"The first meeting will be this Saturday evening, so you had all better be planning. I suggest that you put someone in charge of keeping you all organized, so that you'll all be on the same page. Are there any brief questions before I go?"
"Yes, Professor, I have one."
"Yes, Harry?"
"Are there limits on what we're allowed to teach?"
"No unforgivables."
"That's all?"
"That is all. And if there are no more questions…good, I'll be going then. Thank you all, and good luck with the first meeting."
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As Dumbledore left the hall, the girl whom Harry did not recognize cleared her throat. "Well, I think that I'll make an excellent coordinator. My job only requires my time just before the meetings begin, and besides that I'm splitting it with Lavender. So if no one has any objections…?" Harry was impressed by her charismatic speech; she spoke with enough authority to keep focus but not enough to seem bossy. Yes, it was easy to see why she belonged in Slytherin.
Hermione looked as if she was about to speak, so the Slytherin continued. "I know you would want to have the job, Hermione, but it's my understanding you're going to request additional classes? It just seems fit that I take this job, as I'll have a normal work load and much more free time. My name is Penelope, by the way, for any of you who don't know me." Hermione said nothing.
"So, Harry, you're going to need to figure out what we're going to be doing then?"
"Yeah, I think that maybe we should start with the basics. Maybe a disarming charm and a stunning jinx. They're pretty basic, but they're also pretty useful and not all people are comfortable with them."
"Good, does everyone know those?"
"Actually…I might need some help." Harry looked to Blaise, whose tan cheeks were now touched with a faint blush. "Not the stunning charm, but the disarming one. I never really got that one."
"Ok then, Harry and Blaise, you two will need to find time to practice so that Blaise can teach it on Saturday. Hermione, you can schedule the meetings by tomorrow so that Ernie can clear schedules and Blaise can inform people. I think we should keep it to around twenty per class?"
"I think we can handle a few more. In the DA in fifth year, Harry was teaching a lot more of us," Hermione said.
"Twenty-five then, but I don't want to start off big. Not all of us are born teachers; we need to work up to more people," Lavender replied. Not a single one of them could miss the hostility between the two girls.
"Ok then, everyone has their jobs." Penelope continued. "Why don't we plan on meeting at breakfast tomorrow morning. We've all got classes so it shouldn't be a problem."
They all nodded in agreement and set off towards their separate common rooms. Harry and Hermione had just reached the entrance hall when Blaise caught up to them.
"So, Harry, what time then?"
"Huh? Oh, right. Er…how's Wednesday for you?"
"Perfect, when and where?"
"After dinner, in classroom thirty-one on the third floor?"
"The one by that statue of Wilhelmina the Weird?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
"Ok then, see you there," he said, walking around the staircase to a door Harry knew to lead to the dungeons.
"It's a little strange, don't you think?" Hermione asked when they had reached the first floor landing.
"What is?"
"That Blaise and you are speaking."
"We never weren't speaking, Hermione."
"I'm just saying, I think it's strange that he's so conversational. It's not as if he was mean before, but he wasn't a good friend or even an acquaintance."
"This war is changing a lot of things, Hermione; I guess this is one of them."
"I suppose…" she did not seem convinced.
