Author's Note: Arg, not another long chapter! ^.~ Harry & Draco learn a bit more bout the Order, Ron and Hermione are back, along with Fred, George, and Ginny...hopefully this will be more lighthearted than the last chapter. Don't know why, but I fell into a mind block. I knew what to write…I just didn't get up to do it.
BOOK FIVE NEWS: Bad news! I've been asking people in bookstores about book five, and they say that they really doubt that it'll be coming out this summer, because it hasn't been advertised for, or they haven't received any information on it yet. They say everything got pushed back till next summer. ARGH!
Important: I feel the need to address the issue that some people have been making with the relationship between Harry and Draco. NO slash, as I think I've said about ten hundred times in just as many long and tedious author notes. They are NOT friends, or exactly "friendly" with each other, either. When Harry said in chapter 3, "Give me a reason", he was asking Draco to essentially give him a reason to trust him – to prove himself. Draco, on the other hand, has just run away from home to embark on a dangerous quest to join his family's enemies in order to fight off and spy on one of the most powerful and evil wizards of all time. He NEEDS Harry's trust – because he's got no one else. They both clean the slate in that moment, put everything behind them and start over. Harry understood that about Draco, and gave him the chance—and Draco knew that he had to change. Harry is a genuinely kind person – and Slytherin's keep their allies close, their enemies closer—and to Draco, Harry is both. They are both trying to make the best of things, and that includes being at least civil towards each other. I'm sorry that wasn't clear in the chapter, and I'll go back and revise it sometime.
Now…enjoy the post!
the
new term
"The Order of the Phoenix was originally founded by Merlin, on the orders of King Arthur. It's known as a myth, and, as far as I know, people haven't the slightest idea that it's been recalled for ever since..." Sirius shrugged. "Ever since your grandfather revived the Order to fight Grindelwald."
Sirius grinned. "He and Dumbledore were close, you know...they got along well. Looked out for each other, they did..." Sirius trailed off wistfully. "Anyway, the members of the Order are granted two things by their oath—the initiation—one was the awakening of their true abilities, and two, a bond that connects the members."
Harry and Draco stayed still, both expecting more information. When none came, both of them seemed to relax.
Draco gave a haughty look at Sirius. "I want to know everything about the Order."
Harry nodded eagerly.
Sirius blew out a longer breath. "You'll learn more during your training lessons."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Draco muttered under his breath. "What is it with you people and not telling me things?"
Sirius shrugged. "Dumbledore's orders," he said simply.
Draco grumbled something unintelligible, but stopped when Sirius started speaking again.
"I promised Moody to teach you something useful today, though," Sirius said. "The only way I got the old sod to let me take you for the day…."
Draco laughed and shook his head. "No way am I going to let you 'teach' me anything! You're on par with Longbottom when it comes to potions. I don't trust you with anything else."
Sirius didn't even glance at him. "Either me or Moody, Drakie, take your pick."
Harry glanced at Draco, and found an expression of severe uncertainty on the others face. "How is this hard?"
"You don't know him like I do," Draco said darkly.
Harry gave a short, disbelieving laugh, but left it alone. Turning to Sirius, he asked, "Teach something interesting that doesn't involve us being tied to chairs or bouncing off walls as ferrets."
Draco shot Harry a look, who deftly ignored it.
Sirius shrugged, and as he pulled out his wand, he had a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, Chardae is the real expert on all this around here, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to teach you the basics of disguise."
Draco actually grinned. "Wands?"
Sirius nodded. As Harry and Draco tugged their wands from their robe pockets, Sirius explained things to them.
"Okay, the most important tool is your wand, when it comes to disguises. Potions are also commonly used, but they are usually for the more powerful disguises, such as the Polyjuice. They last for a less amount of time than a spell would, but can do things that the wand can't. For now, I'll show you how to use spells to alter your appearances, but only just." Sirius shot them a grin. "I'll let Chardae teach you the more complicated things the way he wants, because he's the master at it."
"Then he should be the one to teach us," Draco muttered after a moment of silence. "Anyone but you, I mean. You have threatened me on quite a few occasions, when it suit you." He narrowed his eyes at the grinning man.
Sirius shrugged non-committally, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "Anyway," he lifted his wand towards his face, "you need to do quite a bit of visualization when it comes to these spells. They take bursts of powerful magic—the more power you put into the spell, the longer it lasts, basically. What do you want to start with first?"
"Eye color," Draco said promptly. "And hair color."
Harry shot him a curious sidelong glance, but shrugged aside the eager expression on the other boy's face. Maybe he didn't like being blond or something. Considering the fact that Draco also greatly resembled his father, Harry wouldn't have blamed him for wanting to look different.
"Say Crinis to change the color of your hair. You want to imagine the color exactly as you want it, or else it'll turn your hair into something…unpleasant." Sirius pointed the wand at his own short-cropped (but still shaggy) hair, and said, "Crinis yellow!"
Rather abruptly, sparks flew from Sirius' wand as if pollen were rising in a wind from a bed of flowers, and seemed to fly straight into his hair—wrapping, weaving, binding—each strand in color. Moments later, Sirius Black had long, bright, sunshine yellow hair.
"You have to wait at least a day before changing the color again," Sirius explained, slowly, as if he had forgotten. Apparently, he had. He brooded for a few seconds. "Well, luckily I didn't put much power into that spell."
Harry blinked at how unfamiliar Sirius seemed, without his black hair. Strangely, black was the only color that he had really associated with Sirius—excluding the fact that his surname was of the same name of the color. Sirius and the color black just seemed to define the other.
Almost shyly, Harry chuckled at Sirius. Draco cracked a smile, but didn't seem to be into it.
"Turn your eyes bubblegum pink," Draco suggested. "And your robes orange. You'd make some sight in the castle…it'd be good blackmail material, as well…."
"'Bubblegum pink'?" Sirius quoted incredulously, his eyebrows raised. "Since when do you know something muggle?"
All of Draco's little good humor seemed to fade. His gaze lowered, his straight-backed stance faltered, and his hands curled into loose fists. "It was my mother's favorite color," he explained, his voice crisp and completely devoid of any sort of emotion. His reply was short and curt…and apparently, finished.
Sirius didn't know what had affected the boy so much in his comment, so he carefully decided not to notice it. Instead, he lifted the wand and pointed at his eye.
"Oculo blue!"
Both Harry and Draco watched the change come over Sirius's eyes. When it did, both needed only a moment's pause to say—
"Whoa—"
"—you look—"
"—like—"
And both said at the same time, "—Lockhart!"
Sirius's bland expression slowly turned disgusted, then…delighted.
"Oh, no," Draco moaned. "He's thought of something…."
"Right you are, my little friend," he said, his eyes glazed as if he were thinking of anything but what was around him. He stood quickly. "It is time to give Snapie-pooh some nightmares!"
Harry raised an amused eyebrow and couldn't help but grin at Sirius's antics. And scaring Snape in the process would be a plus. Draco, on the other hand, glowered at the man and said, "I'll tell him it was you."
Sirius shrugged. "He'll figure it out anyway, once he really thinks about it."
And then he left to execute his plan.
***
Severus Snape was comfortably situated in the teacher's lounge, fighting the urge to doze off. He still needed to finish writing up the comprehensive tests for the fifth years—and then he was done.
Hmm…the fifth year test. That detestable Potter boy will be taking this, so I might was well make it very difficult. The ingredients to a wolfsbane potion, measurements, and order of mixture…seventh year material.
He wrote it into the test.
What else now? How about 'how much Veritaserum would you feed a man with a mass of fifty-three kilograms, if the potion, regulated at standard temperature pressure, is diluted by ten milliliters of hydrogen?' Sounds good…sixth year material.
He wrote it into the test.
Reaching for the mug of coffee on the small table by the chair, and took a deep, long sip of its contents.
"I still have two weeks to finish this," Severus said to himself out loud. "Better yet, I'll just give the fifth years two questions which I know they don't know the answers to either of, and make it a hundred points." Very simple grading. All F's—except my students, of course.
Finding the solution quite simply, Severus gulped the last of his coffee and placed the mug back where he had found it—on a platter on a small condominiums stand by the wall. It instantly vanished, and a new mug of coffee appeared in its place.
Leaving his test papers there, Severus left the teachers lounge, yawning, as he made his way back to his room in the dungeons.
***
Sirius came back, about an hour later, practically beaming. "I did it."
"Did what?" Harry asked, curious to know what his godfather was on about.
Sirius grinned at his godson. He fondly ruffled the boy's hair, and replied, "Leave it to be a surprise. It'll be better, trust me."
Draco watched Sirius crossly. "I'll go tell him now."
"No, you won't," Sirius replied cheerfully, raising his wand at Draco.
And he didn't.
***
A couple of weeks later, it was September fourth, the first day of the new term. Harry was surprised when he realized quite how excited he was for this day to come, and the first three days of September had seemed to go by agonizingly slow. Just as it always did, while he was with the Dursleys, but this time, less so. He was already in the castle—all he had to do was wait for Ron and Hermione, and he also had Sirius and Remus around to talk to, if he ever wanted.
Draco, meanwhile, had become much more spiteful on the eve of the other students' return. What reason for, Harry could not decipher.
Then again, not by any means had they become friends. Draco would not say anything about it, but Harry could tell by the subtle changes in the other boy's demeanor in the past few days. Draco smirked less often, made less attempts to irritate Harry, and would sit in front of the fire in the shared small, but cozy common room even more than usual. He would always have something with him—a book, assignments—but his eyes would always be gazing into the fire, as if transfixed by something.
Whatever it may have been, Harry could never tell. But for today, he put it in the back of his mind—he longed for Ron and Hermione's reassuring presences more than ever.
He woke and dressed, and soon enough, it was night—he practically sprinted down the corridor from his daily visit to Sirius and Remus, only to find Draco in the common room, lying on the couch and staring into the fire.
His concern grew steadily as he approached the other boy, a little part of him saying he didn't want to know what was wrong with the other boy, and that he should just leave. It begged him to leave, this little voice. It pleaded for him to let people deal with their own problems.
Shoving the little voice aside, with quite a bit of difficulty, the other, stronger, more dominant part of Harry said that he couldn't leave someone alone if they weren't feeling well or if they needed help—no matter what.
Seating himself rather ungracefully on a chair, he gazed at Draco's head. Tilting his head to his right shoulder, he continued to watch silently, as if it would give him a different perspective.
Ten minutes later, Draco slowly moved his head in Harry's direction, not being able to stand those jewel-bright eyes staring at the back of his head. "What is it?"
Harry shrugged, reaching one hand to rub his neck. "You tell me."
Draco blinked slowly, and languidly stretched out all as he rolled to his back on the couch. Staring at the ceiling, with one arm draped over his forehead, as if to block out excess light, he said, "Why aren't you downstairs in the Great Hall? The students have arrived, you know."
Harry leaned back into the chair, nodding thoughtfully as he tucked his legs under himself. "Good question." That little part of him telling him to leave was sorely tempted to add, 'why AM I here?' and walk away to the Great Hall. But Harry just wouldn't have it.
"Why have you been acting like this?" Harry asked, his voice quiet, but firm. He would have an answer.
"Like what?" Draco's voice was soft, as if he didn't feel like being defensive, as if he wanted to talk.
"For the past week, you have been acting oddly," Harry said without preamble. "You're always sitting here doing nothing, staring like a zombie into the fire, and you're not annoying me as much." With a pause, he demanded, "What's wrong?"
Draco laughed. "You're actually surprisingly funny, Potter. I don't know if you mean to be, or not, but still—you're funny."
Harry glared at Draco. "Don't evade my point."
"Your point," Draco sneered. "Well. I don't have to answer to anything—or anyone, Potter. Stay the hell out of my business." With that last thought, Draco rolled off the couch and moved toward the portrait.
Harry watched the other boy leave the dorm with an expression of incredulity. Next time he'd listen to the other voice.
Running to catch up with Draco, Harry decided to leave everything alone for now. "What time is it now?"
"Everyone's already started the feast," Draco replied. Just as they reached the front doors of the Great Hall, Draco put a hand on Harry's shoulder to stop him from walking in. "How are we going to deal with this?"
"What do you mean?" Harry was absolutely puzzled as to what Draco was talking about, and too eager to see Ron and Hermione to really try to pay attention.
Draco glared at Harry shortly before taking out his wand. Closing his eyes and muttering a spell that Harry didn't quite catch, suddenly someone jogged out to the hall.
Harry had to keep himself from jumping when he found himself staring at a mirror image of Draco Malfoy. "Your illusion spell?" he asked the real Draco wryly. Suddenly, the illusion seemed to flicker and die in his eyes. Confused, he asked, "Is it still there?"
Draco flicked his wand at the space where the image had been standing a moment ago, and said with a glint in his eye, "Not anymore."
"Oh, right," Harry said slowly, as a memory of the recent past came to mind. "If I know it's an illusion, it disappears."
Draco nodded, giving Harry a half-smirk that was so sarcastic.
"Do we go in, or what?" Harry asked. "I mean…now that I think about it, running into the Great Hall at this time is really—"
Draco rolled his eyes. "What do you care—you're the famous Harry Potter. One look at me and everyone'll be disappointed that I wasn't Avada Kedavra'd over the summer."
"That's not true," Harry said, frowning and shaking his head. "I mean, sure, a lot of people hate you, but none that want to see you dead."
Draco sniffed at Harry contemptuously. "You're far too naïve, Potter."
Harry sighed irritably. "You've been saying that since we got to Hogwarts."
Draco shrugged. "It's true—I mean, you'd think that you would have at least caught that ambush that Fortescue had set out during that lesson a week ago, and the time that Diggle dragged in that gigantic snake you started talking to it right away and were completely content until you realized it had curled around you and started suffocating you. And the time that Fletcher staged a thing with a little kid in danger from Death Eaters and you started going towards them instead of getting away—"
"All right already," Harry growled. "That's enough. Now—"
Suddenly, there was a rumble of students getting up to go to their dorms, and for a split second, Draco and Harry stood there, not saying a thing but looking at each other with uncertainty and alarm.
"Hide, for now," Draco snapped, grabbing the sleeve of Harry's robe and tugging the boy behind a staircase, alongside him.
Slowly the rush of students ebbed, Harry keeping a lookout for Ron or Hermione, or both. About five minutes of silent anxiety, Harry saw three students step out of the Great Hall, and stand by the side of the open doors, just as he and Draco had stood a little while ago.
Instead of running, although that's what he certainly wanted to do, he approached the three slowly, starting to overhear their conversation.
"Oh, what if something's happened? Dumbledore would have told us, wouldn't he?"
"Come off it—he's probably fine. Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen to him."
"That's what I believed until the Third Task, too." The last—third—voice was quiet, subdued with worry and sorrow.
"Well, I'm not dead and nothing's happened to me," Harry said cheerfully.
Two of the three spun suddenly, their jaws dropped as if ready to cry out in fear.
"Harry!" Hermione looked delighted with joy and immediately pulled him into a tight hug—crushing the oxygen out of him, in the process.
"Air," he gasped, and Hermione released him, her eyes wide and bright with tears of relief.
Hermione gave a huge smile and pointed to a pin on her robes. Harry laughed. "That's great news, Hermione! Not really news, but…."
He looked at Ron and smiled at his best friend. Ron gave a reassured laugh and a friendly cuff to Harry's shoulder. "Good to see you, Harry." He looked him over for a moment, and gave a soft snort. "Guess I can't call you a midget anymore."
Harry blinked, and to his surprise, realized that although Ron had grown taller, they were nearly on eye-level with each other. He smiled again. Then he glanced down at the last figure, surprised.
"Hey, Ginny," he said, his voice kind. "How was your summer?"
"Terrible," she replied flatly.
Then she stomped away.
Harry blinked after her. "Does she hate me now for any particular reason, or…?"
"It's just that time of the month," Ron dismissed with a wave of his hand.
"Ron!"
"Sorry, Herm," Ron said, grinning sheepishly. "I just—"
"—forgot I'm a girl, huh?" She sniffed indignantly. "Well then, I think I'll be off now. I'll talk to you later, Harry."
She turned around and stomped after Ginny.
After a moment of bewildered stares, Ron shrugged confusedly. "I guess it's that time of the month for her, too…?"
Harry laughed this time, a certain sort of stress leaving him as he reunited with his best friend. Ron smiled widely, but sobered when his eyes fell on Harry's. There are more shadows there than I remember. The reality of what had happened during the Third Task still hit Ron hard, and unexpectedly, every time he really looked at his best friend. Softly, he said, "Come on back to the common room—Hermione and I need to talk to you."
Harry nodded. "You go ahead, I'll catch up. I just need to talk to Dumbledore about some stuff for the new term."
Ron nodded, then walked away, his footsteps lighter than they had been. He felt a sort of elevation at being in Hogwarts. He was safe here. The safest he could be. And Harry would be here, in sight at all times, and he and Hermione would look after the Boy Who Lived. The Boy Who Was Their Best Friend.
Ron sighed as he started up a staircase. A small thought crossed his mind. There hadn't been any disappearances during the summer—actually, it went quite normally. Why would You-Know-Who resurface only to stay low?
Shaking his head, he told himself that he would not allow doubts against Harry's word to take over his judgment. He had done that last year when Harry had been chosen Champion, and had taken his jealousy out on him, when Harry had been a good friend. He would never do that again.
Reaching the Gryffindor portrait, he said the password, "Pixie Sticks" and found Hermione sitting in the mostly empty common room in front of the fire. Fred, George, and Ginny were also sitting there, all talking in hushed voices. When they noticed Ron walk in, they turned to look at him.
"Where's Harry?" Ginny demanded.
Ron shrugged. "He had to go talk to Dumbledore about something for the school year." He sat down next to Hermione.
"Well," Fred said impatiently, "what gives? Harry was brought to Hogwarts over the summer—we know that. But why?"
"For protection, you prat," George replied. "But there seems to be something different about him."
There was a short silence, before Ginny shrugged and offered, "He's taller now." She blushed.
"Quieter," Hermione followed, her eyes far away and glazed with a thin, wet layer. "Older—darker."
The silence this time was tense and tangible. They knew what it meant, that Harry had been deeply affected by the events of the Third Task, and nearly murdered after being tortured. That's all they knew. Harry had never told them what happened, but they had seen the condition he was in when he arrived with Dumbledore in the Hospital Wing after it had happened. Cut up, bruised, trembling, and bleeding. His eyes were no longer as bright as they used to be.
Softly, Fred said, "He doesn't deserve this…he's only a kid…."
"We need to help protect him," George said, resolution and determination flickering in his bright eyes. All four of the Weasleys them nodded at each other, the same tenacity reflecting in each of their faces.
Quietly, Hermione, ever being the voice of reason, said, "You guys don't get it. You-Know-Who is powerful. And evil. Utterly evil. Dumbledore couldn't protect Harry last year. What makes you think that we can?"
The four faces fell, each realizing the truth of what she had said. Hermione allowed herself a small smile. "That doesn't mean we can't help in another way—the most important way."
"How?" Fred asked suspiciously.
"I read a book about this sort of thing—oh, don't laugh, Ron—I do not go to a book for everything," Hermione scolded Ron. "Anyway, he's suffered a great trauma. First and foremost, we need to help him deal with everything he's going through, and understand that he's had a rough time. We need to be really patient and nice with him, and do our best to make sure he doesn't get upset."
She paused and waited for a nod from each of the fiery heads of red. "Then, we also need to help Harry study hard this year—"
"'Mione," Ron groaned, rolling his eyes. He stared at her intently. "Are you kidding? We shouldn't push him to do his homework if he doesn't want to!"
Hermione felt a flush rise to her cheeks, but she wasn't sure whether it was because she was angry or something else. "No, I mean it. Everything Harry learns can help him when he's in trouble again. We should make sure he's doing well with all his classes."
George nodded. "That's sounds a bit right," he said with a nod. Then he smiled. "Mind, I'll hate doing that to the poor boy—"
"—we hated it ourselves—"
"—especially when mum was constantly nagging—"
"—when we didn't do our work—"
"—it was only once a term—"
"—a month—"
"More like every week," Ginny muttered. She fixed her brown eyes on Hermione. "What else?"
"And," Hermione said with a flourish, "we need to make sure he doesn't go looking for trouble."
"Trouble finds him," Ron said in defense of his best friend. "I know as well as any of us that he doesn't want all the attention he gets—"
"Ron," Fred said in an oddly gentle voice, "we can at least keep him from getting deeper into what's going on, all right? She's right—no more night wanderings, no more following up on suspicious things, no matter what—if there's anything odd, go straight to Dumbledore, you hear? He's the only one that can really protect Harry now."
Ron met his older brother's gaze for a moment, held it, then looked away. "All right. But he won't like it."
"Who won't like what?"
They jumped, but calmed when they realized it was only Harry coming in through the portrait door.
"Er…" Hermione shot a look at Fred and George, who, of course, immediately catching the drift, stood and raced towards Harry. Harry backed away looking a little more than just a bit apprehensive, and couldn't say he was much surprised when he felt someone hold him still and something edible being stuffed in his mouth by someone else—it tasted quite good, actually—and feathers suddenly cropping on his skin.
"How long does this last?" Harry groaned, trying to shake some of the feathers off. Fred and George exchanged glances and shrugged.
"A few seconds—"
"—minutes—"
"—hours—"
"Oh, please shut it," Ginny said, irritated. "It's bad enough that you two spent the whole train ride talking in prose—"
"I thought we were good," George said.
Ginny smiled unpleasantly, and said in an informative tone of voice, slightly reminiscent of Percy, "You weren't."
Fred and George were interrupted from reply by the feathers molting off of Harry and vanishing. Harry smiled a little uncertainly at them as they turned their amazingly wide—and devious—smiles at him, sat himself down in the closest chair by the fire.
"Spill, Harry," Ron said, before Harry could remember what he had asked about earlier, relieved by the distraction that his brothers pulled. "Why were you here over the summer?"
Harry shrugged, and gave a lopsided grin that faded pretty quickly. "Well…turns out old Mrs. Figg who used to baby-sit for me when I was little is a witch—Arabella Figg, Professor Dumbledore's sister—and she brought me to Hogwarts for the summer." Harry racked his head. He gave half of the truth—and there was no way he would let Ron and Hermione, or even Ginny and the twins, discover the secret he kept about the Order of the Phoenix.
"That must have been great," Ron said with a sigh.
"Yeah," George agreed. "We asked mum if we could come visit you—" Fred snickered "—but she said that the poor professors staying over the summer wouldn't've been able to stay sane."
"We can barely handle sitting near you on the train ride," Ginny said, her tone harsh, but an affectionate smile creeping into her face. "How can you expect the professors to put up with you, when you're not hampered by house points or classes or homework or detention?"
They both seemed to think about it, until George shrugged, and Fred said, "Good point."
Ron laughed as Hermione giggled. Ron looked at Harry sideways, and noticed a small smile. That's something.
Harry shifted in his seat. "Well, I'm going to sleep for the night. I'll see you guys tomorrow."
"Aren't you going up to the dorm?" Ron asked, confused when he saw Harry walk towards the portrait.
"Dumbledore doesn't want me to stay in the dorms," Harry said simply, his voice more than a bit vacant of emotion. Before anyone could say anything, he said a plain "goodnight" and left the common room.
There was a grimness in the air that Ron hadn't felt nearly so heavily as before.
"Death Eaters," Fred said, his blue eyes cloudy.
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.
"Dumbledore doesn't want to chance Harry's life," Hermione said, catching on quickly to what Fred had said. "He doesn't want to risk someone in the Gryffindor dorms being a Death Eater."
Ginny seemed to pale. "Someone in Gryffindor?"
"You'd be surprised," Ron remarked off-handedly, his mind wandering to Pettigrew. What must it have felt like for James Potter to realize too late that one of his dearest friends had betrayed him and his family?
Hermione glanced at Ron quickly, and said, "Well, what Ron means is that You-Know-Who has a lot of influence, and using dark magic to gain power over others is easier than using light."
George sighed, and then stood. "Well, we'd better get to bed. We can talk to Harry a bit tomorrow. We need to figure out who's going to be the new Quidditch captain."
The twins and Ginny left, leaving only Ron and Hermione sitting together.
Hermione shivered. "I can't imagine what Harry went through," she said hoarsely. "After all this time, I can't believe how he made it back to us."
Ron nodded. "He's never been the Boy Who Lived to us, has he? Just Harry Potter."
Hermione sniffled, and Ron mentally groaned. "Oh, come on, 'Mione, don't cry."
"Oh, Ron, I'm just so worried for him," Hermione said tearfully.
Ron sighed, and shrugged helplessly. "Come on," he said heavily, after a few moments. "We'd better get to sleep; classes start early tomorrow."
***
When Harry got back to his room, he was full of mixed feelings. A bit guilty for lying—well, not entirely; just some fibbing and stretching or avoiding the truth—to Ron and Hermione. Not to mention Ginny and the twins. He hadn't really talked to Dumbledore—he'd told Draco to go on ahead, and that he'd catch up later. There was also a bit of relief. His two best friends were back, safe.
But mostly, there was just a general knot of confusion and anxiety in his stomach. He wasn't sure how they'd take his odd but not non-existent friendship with Draco.
Harry sighed and pushed it from his mind, warily deciding to deal with it when the time came. He was rushing back to meet Draco in their mini-common room.
When he walked in, he found Draco hastily scribbling on a sheet of parchment. Looking over his shoulder, Harry asked, "What's that for? Moody didn't give us anything for today, did he?"
Draco nodded curtly. "A comprehensive essay on what we learned over the summer about the muggle forms of defense we've studied, and how it has an edge over wizards. He's given us a week to write it, so it'd better be good."
"But that's not what you're writing."
Draco scowled. "I forgot to write my summer essay for Sinistra. With all the work they've piled us up with…."
Harry nodded softly, and thoughtfully considering, slowly said, "If you want, you can read my essay."
Draco looked up at Harry sharply, his sharp gray eyes searching emerald to see if there was any sort of trick to them. Draco quickly averted his gaze to his parchment, which his quill had been dripping ink on.
Giving a short, sheepish laugh, and a small grin, he said, "I don't think I'd mind if I could…."
Harry smiled, and went to go get it from the pile of books he had left on one of the ebony tables to the side. "Here," he said, handing it to Draco, "just make sure you don't make it recognizable."
Draco nodded, as Harry sat down and sunk into the chair by the fire. After a few moments of silence, Draco said a tentative "thanks" with a cautious smirk.
Harry glanced backwards at Draco in surprise, but the other boy had gone back to the assignment. It came unexpectedly, this "thanks" of Draco's. No matter how kind Harry found himself being to the Slytherin, he had only been treated with a cold and stiff response. They didn't have their petty fights anymore—after the first few weeks, Draco had worked hard not to insult Harry—out loud, at least. They had been getting along without interacting much with one another, aside from their lessons. This was the first time Draco had smiled or thanked him for anything.
Harry gazed back into the fire, leaning back into the chair lazily. "So, what are we going to do about Ron and Hermione?"
Draco barely glanced up from the essay. "What do I care what you do?"
Harry glared at Draco. "Well, I don't want to hurt their feelings. They've always been there for me, and to keep something so huge from them isn't right. But I can't let them know about the Order, or else they're in danger. And I don't even know how to begin explaining the Prank War—they'll think it's a repetition of the Triwizard Tournament."
Draco set his nearly complete essay aside and settled into his seat better, this time looking up at Harry as he spoke. "We could always say that we were chosen because we're Prefects, since all the other names I remember are of people in line to become Prefects, or ones that are."
Harry blew out a breath. "I completely forgot we were Prefects. Of course they made Hermione one. Ron's going to be upset."
"What for?" Draco said, not bothering to hide to expression of dislike on his face.
"He'd get jealous," Harry replied sullenly. "Last year he got jealous because I was accepted into the Triwizard Tournament. He'd get upset now too."
Draco shrugged. "That's entirely his problem. When is the Prank War going to begin, anyway?"
"Sirius said to meet him tomorrow right for breakfast in our dorm, so Professor Dumbledore will probably announce it then. We won't have to be there for it, which is good, because then everyone won't stare."
Draco made a face. "I'd rather have everyone gawk at me than eat breakfast with your godfather."
As Sirius had anticipated this reaction from Draco, he told Harry exactly what to say. "If you don't come, he said that you would make up for the time as a bouncing ferret."
Draco scowled. "I hate you," he grumbled.
"The feeling's mutual," Harry replied apathetically. The exchange had become some sort of inside joke between them—except, of course, they weren't entirely kidding.
***
"So what's been going on?"
Sirius had just explained over a breakfast of buttered toast, scones, and a goblet of orange juice what had been going on in the Order. Unfortunately, his hair was still bright yellow—not blond, mind you, yellow—and it was hard for Harry to pay attention when he felt like laughing at his godfather.
"Fletcher's still been trying to convince the Ministry," Sirius explained. "They're not buying—well, at least Fudge's not, and he's the one that can really take major action."
"If I were You-Know-Who," Draco said sullenly, looking darkly at his toast and picking at it with his fork, "I know who my first target would be."
"Is that so?" Harry asked, carefully looking away to hide his grin. "Who'd it be first? Me, Sirius, Fudge, or Millicent Bulstrode?"
Draco shuddered. "I forgot about her."
Sirius ignored the conversation and continued. "Flora's watching out for anything suspicious going on, and tracking them, while Diedra, Orpheus, Mad-Eye, and Remus are laying low. The rest are here."
"Anything else?" Draco drawled sarcastically.
"Actually, yes." Sirius leaned back in his seat, slinging his arm back to hang behind his seat. "Hagrid's gone."
"What?" Harry asked. After a moment of thinking, he remembered something Hagrid had said after the first task. "Is it that mission he was speaking of last term?"
"With Maxime. To speak to the giants."
Harry frowned uncertainly. "Who'll be teaching while he's gone?"
Sirius broke into a feral grin.
Draco dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter, let his forehead fall into the table, covered his head with his arms and groaned. "Noooo…why won't you every go away?"
"I'd miss you too much, Drakie," Sirius replied without missing a beat. Before Harry could interrupt him and demand how he could even consider such a crazy idea, he reminded, "Orpheus is a master of disguise, Harry. No one'll recognize me, Fletcher's sticking in fake identity files into the Ministry as we speak, and with Dumbledore backing me, I'll be as safe as can be."
Harry stared at Sirius without replying, and Sirius was waiting a little anxiously. He would have to go ahead with it anyway, but he would rather had Harry's approval—however reluctant—than not.
After a few tense moments between the two, Harry grinned slowly. "How did Snape take the news?"
Sirius snickered. Carefully, with a devious glint in his eyes, he said, "I think he agrees with me that it will be a very interesting school year." He glanced at his watch. "Well, first class is going to start in ten minutes. Here are your schedules. The Prank War will have been explained—we've tweaked a few of the rougher aspects. All the other competitors are Prefects, and now they'll be sharing the same classes as well. Just so this isn't so odd."
Harry reached for his class list, and found himself wishing he could have completely ignored what it said.
Transfiguration / Gryffindor
History of Magic / Slytherin
Defense Against the Dark Arts / Ravenclaw
Divination / Hufflepuff
Potions / Slytherin & Gryffindor
Astronomy / Ravenclaw
Herbology / Hufflepuff & Gryffindor
Charms / Slytherin
Care of Magical Creatures / Ravenclaw & Hufflepuff
"Go get your books, boys," Sirius said, getting up too leave. Before he descended down the staircase that lead to the dorm, he called over his shoulder, "I'll see you later today."
***
"Where were you doing breakfast?" Ron demanded as Harry slid into his seat for double Transfiguration. Draco awkwardly followed, and sat in the seat beside Harry's. However, he sat up straight in his seat and glared at all the Gryffindors that turned to glare back. Hermione kept her gaze straight on the door, not even looking at Malfoy.
Ron scowled. "What luck. Malfoy." He snorted, then turned towards the front of the classroom when Professor McGonagall entered. She saw Malfoy sitting in his seat and nodded at him, then at the rest of the class.
"I expect everyone to be civil," she reminded, her voice tight. "If anyone fails to do so—then you fail this course, as well."
Ron shot Malfoy a look.
She turned and placed a few light books she was carrying on her desk. "Very well—fifth years. The OWLs are this year, and I, along with the rest of your professors, will be working you very hard. Magic takes work, and you must try to keep up with your lessons.
"Today's lesson is not directly related to Transfiguration, in itself," Professor McGonagall said, "but it is quite important when it comes to wand work in general. Can anyone tell me what ley lines are?"
Hermione's hand shot up into the air, on the other side of Ron. Professor McGonagall gave a rare smile. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Ley lines have existed all over the Earth for an unknown amount of time—although mostly in London itself, as the major magical power of the world—but they were, in the past, believed to be lines that could open into a new dimension of a sort. Now, further research and more time has proven that ley lines are not magical portals, but lines that one amplify ones' power, if magic is worked around it."
McGonagall nodded. "Very good Ms. Granger, ten points to Gryffindor." She stood straighter. "Today's lesson will be comprehensive, and will not require your textbooks. Please follow me."
As the class stood to follow her, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hung back. "Harry, are you sure this is a good idea?" Hermione asked anxiously. "I mean…working with Malfoy and this whole Prank War thing sounds very dangerous—"
"Come off it, 'Mione," Ron replied. "The only thing bad about this is that Malfoy's involved. Why'd they partner you two up for classes anyway?"
Harry shrugged. "Because some higher entity feels that I must suffer."
"This isn't what I'd call fun, either, Potter," Draco snapped from behind.
"I wasn't talking to you," Harry replied, frowning but keeping up with the rest of the class.
"I don't care," Draco said, and Harry could see him gesturing indifferently.
Harry's eyes narrowed, as Ron and Hermione ignored Draco and tried to pretend that nothing was happening, so that Professor McGonagall wouldn't take notice of Harry and Draco's brewing argument.
"Why don't you respect people's privacy, for once?"
Draco gave an indignant sniff at Ron, then Hermione. "I have no respect for those who aren't deserving of it."
Ron's hands clenched and he tried going for Draco, but Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and said, "It's not worth it, Ron."
After glaring at Draco threateningly for a few moments, Ron grudgingly straightened his robes and stormed after the class faster. After a glance at Harry and Malfoy, Hermione sped to catch up with him and the class.
Harry glared at Draco. "Why are you such a jerk to them?"
Draco shrugged. "It's fun." As an afterthought, before Harry could reply, he added, "And it's true."
"What is?"
"What I say about them. They're worthless. Granger is muggle, and Weasel's family has no dignity."
Harry's rage grew, but he kept it controlled. "You've got some issues to work on. A lot of them. But leave my friends out of it."
With that, he fumed after Ron and Hermione.
***
Draco tried not to laugh.
Potter was so easy to manipulate. So easy to predict, that he had trouble not wondering how and why he wasn't killed yet. With all the Death Eaters, with the Dark Lord—with everything and everyone going after him, how had this naïve boy survived this long?
Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled after the Gryffindors at a leisurely pace. Potter was right—he did have some issues. He hated muggles, and yet he was sacrificing everything to join the side protecting them. It didn't make sense to him—but obviously it did to Potter somehow, he realized. That night after they first were told about the Prank War, Harry had asked him the same question he was now asking himself. Afterwards, when Draco couldn't give an answer, Harry had smiled and left. He knew something that Draco couldn't figure out.
Then Draco thought it must've been an easy answer, for Potter to think of it. The other boy didn't seem that intelligent, a lot of times, Draco decided. Actually, he was quite stupid. But Draco already knew that.
He finally found the class waiting in a patch of grass, where there were colorful flowers surrounding it. There were four willow trees, one at each north, south, east, and west directions of the patch. Their dropping branches and leaves mostly hid the group and area from direct sunlight, and the place was comfortably shady. It was surprisingly large, but nonetheless very beautiful. The more Draco observed, the more he felt that this had been a garden of some sort, an area preserved and well cared for.
McGonagall cleared her throat. "This is a very special memorial garden, one of which no students are allowed access to unless without a teachers permission. Do not attempt to return here." She looked at everyone sternly, her specs flashing.
"This is a garden in which ley lines—as Miss Granger has explained—runs through. Hogwarts is in such a position that there are many lines crisscrossing through it, so although Hogwarts is magical all over, in some places, the magic is stronger, and more powerful.
"You will pair up into partners, and I want you to try to decide which points are strongest in this garden. There will be many, but try to feel out which ones aid your magic the most, or which ones put more power behind your spells." She frowned. "I expect that you will use spells at a fifth year level. Try practicing with some ones you have recently learned."
The class broke into pairs, and Harry reluctantly walked back towards Draco. "Well, what spell?"
Draco stared at Harry balefully. "Obviously, she wants us to do Transfiguration spells."
Harry shook his head. "She never said so."
Draco ignored Harry and went to the nearest tree trunk and bent over. As Harry joined him, he began picking up rocks one by one and handing them to Harry. "We better practice that spell Moody taught us."
Harry nodded, and said complacently, almost as if pitying him, "You would worry about that, wouldn't you? C'mon, get over it, he's not going to turn you into a ferret."
Draco sputtered. "It has absolutely nothing to do with ferrets!" He stood and whirled on Harry. "Stop talking about ferrets!"
"Calm down," Harry replied breezily, turning the rocks over in his hands, "there's nothing wrong with not wanting to be turned into 'The Amazing Bouncing Ferret' again—but anyway, what was that spell that Moody taught us? The flipping spell? Flippious, was it…no…."
Draco tried to be patient. He really did. He tried not to lose his temper, tried not to blow up at Harry. But enough was enough. He ignored the fact that he had teased Harry about much more personal things, such as his parents and his being the first target of the Dark Lords'—but Draco wasn't Harry, and he would not deal with his pride being—being tarnished—by the infernal memory of being turned into a bouncing white ferret.
He fumed to himself silently, as Harry unknowingly tried to figure out how to do the last spell that Moody had taught them. Draco watched him intently, a plan formulating in his mind.
He would do something that would put Harry to shame, far beyond the ferret thing had done to him.
It was the first day of the Prank War.
He smirked.
Harry would be sorry.
new term
end
A/N: That chapter never ENDED!! Argh!! Oh well, now I'm back on track and chapters WILL be coming much faster. I hope you like what's coming up – the PRANK WAR!! If you have any suggestions, for the love of God PLEASE either e-mail me or leave it in a review. I'm not sure I can come up with many funny pranks!
As always, please review, and tell me whether you want to be on the mailing list (leave your e-mail address!)!
NEXT CHAPTER: THE PRANK WAR!!!!!!!
~ Jedi Cosmos ~
