September 13, 1997
It was late afternoon, and Harry was walking to the library. They were already getting mullered in classes, and he wanted to knock out his homework before the weekend – not that he expected to get it all done. He walked by a side hallway on the second floor and saw Luna and Neville standing there with their arms outstretched. Harry nodded, walked on, then frowned and took a couple steps back.
Neville's arms were shaking, and, judging by his face, was in some amount of pain. Luna seemed perfectly serene – but she always did. She was a slip of a girl, with straight, dirty blonde hair and slightly protruding eyes that she hid behind bright pink and silver sunglasses. She called them spectroscopes. Harry approached them.
"So, uh," Harry said. "What're you guys up to?"
Neville gritted his teeth. "We're pretending to be trees," he said. Harry raised his eyebrows.
"To attract milleyes," Luna said. Her voice was soft and slightly lilting.
Harry nodded sagely. "Cool, cool," he said. "So?" He waved a hand over them.
"They're attracted to the brain waves of trees," Luna explained. Harry blinked. "So we're thinking tree thoughts."
"Like 'this photosynthesis is really doing it for me' or 'do I look particularly sappy today'?" Harry asked.
Luna nodded with a smile. "Exactly," she said.
Harry turned to Neville. "Why are you doing this?" Harry asked.
"I asked him to," Luna said. "He is naturally very tree-like."
Neville frowned and lowered his arms. "I feel like I should be offended by that," he said, and turned to Harry. "Should I be offended by that?"
"I honestly have no idea," Harry said with a snort.
"It's a good thing," Luna said and patted Neville on the arm. "Now let's get back to it."
Neville nodded and raised his arms again. Harry furrowed his eyes.
"Now, I'm not an expert on attracting, uh, millipedes –" Harry said.
"Milleyes," Luna corrected.
"Right, thank you," Harry said. "But if they're attracted to the brain waves of trees, wouldn't they be out in the forest with, you know, the actual trees."
Luna stared at him. "Trees don't have brains," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which, okay, it kind of was. Luna cocked her head. "Are you mentally deficient?"
Neville and Harry burst out laughing, while Luna looked at them, confused. Then, they heard clipping footsteps. Harry turned around to see Ginny approach – she seemed angry. She stepped right up to them and within a foot of Harry.
"What are you up to?" Ginny demanded.
Harry smirked. "Luna was just explaining how to attract, uh…" he said, and turned to the blonde girl.
"Milleyes," Luna said with a nod. "They're sentient tongues that allow you to taste dreams."
Neville frowned. "What does that mean?" he asked.
Luna blinked. "I don't really know," she said. "I've never managed to capture one."
"Right," Harry said with a nod. "It's fascinating stuff, really."
Ginny glared at Harry and put her fists on her hips. Luna lowered her arms.
"It appears I have caused some tension," Luna said. "I should go. Thank you for your help, Neville."
Luna walked away, humming. Neville lowered his arms with a groan and massaged his sore muscles. Harry looked down at Ginny with a frown.
"What's with you?" Harry asked.
"You are not allowed to make fun of her," Ginny said, and poked him in the chest.
Harry took a step back. "I wasn't making fun of her," he said. Ginny raised her eyebrows, and he sighed. "Fine, I was a bit, but come on, I take the shit out on everyone.
"I don't care," Ginny said. "She already takes a lot from everyone else in school, she doesn't need it from her friends, too."
"Hey, I'll play nice," Harry said. "Besides, Luna's cool."
Ginny nodded and turned to Neville. "That goes for you too, Longbottom," she said.
Harry snorted. "I wouldn't worry about that," he said. Neville blushed.
Ginny furrowed her brow. "What does that mean?" she asked.
Neville's blush deepened. "Well," he said quietly. "I might-"
"No!" Ginny said cutting him off. "No. No. Absolutely not. No." Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement. "I am not trusting one of my friends with one of you."
"You know, you're one of us too, right?" Harry asked.
Ginny huffed. "And I wouldn't trust one of my friends with me, either," she said.
Harry rolled his eyes and put an arm around Neville's shoulders. "Come on, Gin," he said. "Nev's the best one of us." He frowned for a moment. "Morally speaking."
Neville turned to Harry. "Thank you," he said.
Ginny snorted. "I don't think he meant that as a compliment," she said.
Harry nodded. "I definitely did not," he said, and Neville squirmed out from his grasp with a scowl. "The point is, Nev would need signed permission before he even held her hand."
Neville shoved him. "That's not true," he said. "I just haven't had as many girlfriends as you."
"Why not?" Ginny asked. "I mean, you're one of the hottest guys in school."
Neville blushed again and averted his eyes. "I'm waiting until I find the one," he said softly.
Harry laughed and Ginny glared at him. "That's adorable," Ginny said. Neville smiled slightly. "And stupid." Neville's smile turned into a scowl. "It might not matter, anyway," Ginny continued. "I'm not sure Luna'll be interested.
Neville furrowed his brow while Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh," Harry said. "Is she…" He left the rest of the question suspended.
Ginny shrugged. "I have no idea," she said. "She's never talked about anyone, boy or girl, half as long as she's talked about crumple-horned snorkacks."
Harry glanced at Neville, who looked crestfallen, and nodded. "Out of respect for Luna," he said. "I'm not going to touch that one."
##############
September 17, 1997
Harry awoke with a palpable sense of dread. It was Monday – and though he had a good weekend of flying, drinking, and the occasional bit of homework, he had not been looking forward to this morning, and not just because he had class.
Today, he would have to have an honest, civil conversation with Draco Malfoy.
Professor Riddle had continued to end his lectures with 'trust talks' and so far, surprisingly, it hadn't been so bad. The first conversation with Tracy had gone decently, and last Monday he had had a shockingly good chat with Hermione, once they got over their initial hostility. On Wednesday he had talked to Susan, but he and Draco had been avoiding their own tete-a-tete. Harry was certain he had nothing to say to the stuck-up Slytherin – they could trade barbs and snipe insults at each other all day, but an honest, open conversation was far out of their wheelhouse.
Harry spent the entire class praying that Riddle would get too caught up in his lecture on Mortimer the Painful to allow the trust talks, but it seemed God didn't answer wizard prayers. Riddle wrapped up in time, and told them to split up. Harry groaned and Neville patted his arm before getting up and walking to Susan's table. Susan gave him a small smile and Harry nodded back.
Then, he got up and sat stiffly next Draco. Draco made no move to acknowledge him, his eyes were affixed to the book in front of him.
"Draco," Harry said with a slight nod.
Draco looked at him and narrowed his eyes slightly. "Potter," he said.
Silence fell over the table. After a minute, Harry tried again.
"How's the family?" he asked.
"Good," Draco said. "And yours?"
"Good," Harry said. He struggled to find something more to say, but just nodded. "Cool."
Draco scoffed slightly and flipped a page. Harry started tapping the table with his fingers. Draco glared at him, and he stopped.
"So, heard you made captain," Harry said. "How's the team shaping up?"
Draco sneered at him. "Like I'm going to tell the enemy," he said.
Harry nodded. "Fair enough," he said.
Draco turned back to his book, and Harry let out a sigh – he tossed his head back.
"Merlin," Harry said. "This is miserable."
Draco sneered at him again. "And you're making it worse by opening your vacuous mouth every two second," he said.
Harry glared at the other boy. "What?" he asked. "You want to sit here in silence for the next twenty minutes? That's stupid."
Draco smirked slightly. "I thought stupidity was your specialty, Potter," he said.
"Gods, you're such a ponchy git," Harry said. Draco sneered again and returned, yet again, to his book.
Harry dragged his hands down his face in exasperation, then looked around the room. Tracy and Hermione seemed to be in a deep conversation, while Susan and Neville were laughing at something. Riddle caught Harry's eye – the professor raised his eyebrows. Harry groaned again, and turned back to Draco.
"Draco, listen," he said. Draco looked up slightly, already sneering. "I hate you. You are everything that's wrong with the world." The sneer transitioned into a hateful scowl. "But we have to at least make an effort to, you know, talk. For the class."
Amazingly, Draco's scowl turned to Riddle. "I don't see why," he said. "This whole 'trust' thing seems kind of…"
"Fruity?" Harry offered.
Draco stared at him. "Not the word I was looking for, but yes," he said. "Still, it is a requirement for the class."
Harry nodded. "Right, so let's just keep this light and get the fuck out of here," he said.
Draco nodded. "Agreed," he said. "Light."
They stared at each other for a full minute, trying to think of a topic of conversation.
"So –" Harry said, at the same time as Draco said, "What –"
They both stopped talking and stared at each other.
"Go ahead," Draco said.
Harry shook his head. "I forgot what I was going to say," he said.
Draco sneered. "Do you have the attention span of a niffler?" he asked.
"On good days," Harry said with a smirk.
Draco rolled his eyes. "You're not nearly as funny as you think," he said.
Harry pouted slightly and huffed. "Whatever," he said. "Just ask your damn question."
Draco scoffed. "What classes are you taking?" he asked.
"You're in almost all of them," Harry said plainly. Draco glared at him. "Fine, whatever. All the ones I'm taking with you, plus astronomy."
Draco furrowed his brow slightly. "What career path is that?" he asked.
Harry smirked. "Quidditch. I'm going pro," he said. "Since it doesn't really matter, I'm taking the classes that look interesting." Draco rolled his eyes. "How about you?"
"I have our shared classes, potions, and herbology," Draco said .
Harry winced slightly. "Oof," he said. "Sounds heavy."
Draco nodded. "Yes, but necessary," he said.
"For what?" Harry asked.
"I'm going to be a healer," Draco said.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" he asked, then nodded. then shook his head. Then blinked. "Really?"
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Do you have a problem with that, Potter?" he asked.
Harry shook his head and blinked again. "No, no," he said and shook his head again. "Just, never really pegged you as that."
Draco sneered. "Not everyone is as simple as you and the brain dead cretins you call friends," he said.
The bell to end the class rang, and Draco grabbed his books and left with one last sneer. Harry shook his head.
"Right," Harry said. "Still an asshole."
##########
Harry climbed the steps to the astronomy tower. It was twenty minutes before his midnight class – he went up early for a smoke. Harry didn't consider himself a 'smoker', per se, but the astronomy tower was a good place for a quiet cigarette and contemplation.
And Harry had something to contemplate – try as he might, he couldn't get over the revelation of Draco's career plans. In Harry's opinion, Draco was prime time asshole. They were technically family, so they knew each other growing up. One of Harry's first memories was of Draco mocking his mother for being muggleborn. Harry had knocked out two of Draco's baby teeth for that. It set the tone for their relationship.
And now, Harry found out that Draco – the biggest prick in the world, a guy he could not stand – was going to be a healer. It was arguably the most selfless and morally right profession out there. What the hell sort of person does that make me? Harry wondered and had been wondering all day.
Harry opened the door leading to the exposed landing of the tower, and cursed when he saw a figure there. There goes his hopes for a quiet smoke. The figure turned around – it was Daphne. She walked towards him, and he could see in her eyes a certain determination, sadness, and anger.
"Potter," she said. "I need a cigarette."
Harry blinked – something about her tone and her eyes preempted denial, so he nodded and pulled out his pack. He extracted two cigarettes. "Here," he said, and offered one. She took it, nodded a slight thanks, then turned around to stare out over the parapets.
Harry walked over and stood a few meters away, but looked over in the same direction. It was a beautiful night – he could see the glow of Hogsmeade in the distance between the mountains, and the grounds were awash in the silvery light of the full moon.
"Shame about the moon," Harry said. "It'll be hard to see the stars."
Daphne sighed. Harry glanced over, her eyes were closed and her brow furrowed in annoyance. "Potter," she said, her voice was low and dangerous. "Don't talk."
Harry raised his eyebrows, but abided by her wish. They smoked in silence. Every so often, Harry would glance over at Daphne. She smoked well, with the same class and grace she seemed to do everything with. Her cigarette dwindled towards it's butt, but it did nothing to dispel her tension. She put it out and vanished the remains.
"If you tell anyone," she said and didn't look at him. "I will make your life very difficult."
Harry nodded and pitched his own butt. They started to set up their stations a few meters from each other. Every so often, Harry would look at her, and wondered what exactly was going on with her.
#############
September 22, 1997
"-And Havershaw drop passes to Willems, who charges past Cohen, dodges Egan and flies into the 20. Willems throws for the center hoop! Stevenson lunges and misses! That's three points for Tutshill!" the announcer on the Wizarding Wireless called. Ron swore loudly.
"Did Tutshill score again?" Dean yelled from the dorm bathroom.
"Yeah," Harry yelled back. "Cannon's are getting slammed."
Harry and Ron sat at the table in their dorm room – it was Saturday night, and neither of them felt like going out into the castle. Seamus was off somewhere with Lavender, and Neville had prefect duties. Besides, for Harry and Ron, it was game night – Chudley Cannons vs Tutshill Tornadoes. It wasn't a contest, really, except for Ron's eternal hope for the Cannons. They were also getting kind of drunk.
Dean walked out of the bathroom – he had been getting ready for a date. "What else is new?" he asked. "How do I look? Fuckable?"
Ron and Harry stared at him – he did look kind of nice, but it was a weird question to ask.
"Why're you asking us?" Harry asked.
Dean shrugged. "Word is you have some insight," he said with a grin.
"Fuck off," Harry grumbled and took a sip of his beer.
Dean laughed and headed towards the door. "I'm off," he said. "Don't wait up."
Ron waved him off, then glanced at Harry, who was miserably staring at the radio. "You know he's just joking aroud, yeah?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, it's just bloody annoying," he said. "I mean, if it was just you guys, it wouldn't be so bad, but every damn kid in school is harping on it."
"No one really believes it, though," Ron said. Then turned to the radio as the announcer announced the Cannons allowed another goal. "Fuck!"
Harry smirked slightly at Ron, then shook his head. "So you're saying they just hate me?" he asked.
"No one hates you, mate," Ron said. "Except Malfoy."
Harry took another sip of his beer. "I fuckin' hate that guy," he said. "Did I mention he's going for healer?"
Ron snorted. "Once or twice," he said. "You've got to get over it."
"How am I supposed to do that?" Harry asked. Ron rolled his eyes and drained his beer. He got up and grabbed another two, while Harry continued. "I just don't get it, mate. Why would that prick want to save lives?"
Ron handed Harry a beer and sat down. "I don't think he does," he said. "Think about it, the git's all about status, right?" Harry nodded. "No one's more respected than a healer. Saving lives is just an unfortunate side-effect."
Harry shrugged. "I guess," he said and finished his beer. He opened the one Ron handed him. They listened to the game for a few moments. Then Harry glanced up at Ron. "Did you ever get around to figuring out what you want to do when we get out of here?"
Ron groaned. "My mum's been on my case about that," he said. "All my brothers had it figured out by now – seems I'm the only Weasley without a clue."
"What about the Ministry?" Harry asked.
Ron snorted. "After they've shafted my dad for the past forty years? Besides, you saw what a prat Percy had to become to get ahead there," he said and took a sip of his beer. "Nah, I'll figure it out. Someday. How about you? How's the Quidditch dream?"
Harry winced slightly. "There're going to be some scouts at the match against Slytherin," he said.
Ron raised his eyebrows and laughed slightly. "Don't tell me you're nervous," he said.
"No," Harry said, slightly too quickly. Ron smirked. "Fine. I'm nervous. What if I choke?"
Ron laughed. "You'll be fine once you're in the air," he said. "Besides, if you blow it, you can always sign for the Cannons."
Harry shook his head, as the announcer said, "And Tutshill defeats Chudley by a stunning 52 to 5 – bringing the Cannon's losing streak to an astounding 107 games in a row."
Ron grumbled, and Harry raised his eyebrows. "Fuck that," Harry said. "No way I'm lashing myself to that sinking ship."
