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XIX

XIXIX "Going Home to the Black House" XIXIX

"Merlin's beard, Harry! Are you okay?"

The Gryffindor common room was still in full party swing when Harry finally made it back that night. He was in such a good mood that he had forgotten that he was bruised and bloodied, wearing torn robes. His housemates swarmed around him, already planning their revenge before Harry even opened his mouth.

"I can make his head grow twice as big as normal."

"His head's big enough as it is. I just found this one hex where you can't go to the bathroom at all!"

"Ew! Why don't we give him the runs before his potions exam next week!"

"Or we could blind him!"

"No!" yelled Harry.

"Just temporarily..."

"No, no. Guys, look. No retaliation for this. We got into a fight, but everything's cool between us now. So, just don't worry about it."

"What do you mean 'everything's cool between you now'?" asked Hermione, looking like she didn't understand what that string of words meant.

"Just that. We got into a fight, and then we talked. And now everything's fine. So leave him alone."

"Harry," said Ron, "I hate to state the obvious, but you're talking about DRACO MALFOY here, not some guy from Hufflepuff. Things do NOT become 'cool' between you and Draco Malfoy."

"I'm not saying you have to like him, or even that you have to believe me that he's not that bad a guy. I'm just saying, don't retaliate for this. This is not a big deal."

"Harry, you have a black eye. Your nose is bloody. This is a big deal," said Ginny, as though that settled the matter.

"Oh, wait, I get it!" said Ron. "He's in the infirmary, isn't he?"

Harry shrugged and grinned, because after all, he was. And this admission might get them to drop the subject long enough for him to go clean up. "As a matter of fact..." he began coyly.

"I knew it!" shouted Ron. "Guys, leave Malfoy alone for this. Harry already put him in the infirmary, and if we go after him further, then we're just being arses. Right?"

The room agreed that Malfoy had probably already gotten what he deserved, so Harry went upstairs to shower.

The subject was dropped until the next day, when Harry and Malfoy casually exchanged waves hello in the Great Hall during breakfast. Word had somehow already gotten around the entire school about their fight, but a truce between them was far juicier news. It seemed to Harry as though people couldn't think about anything else, especially among the Gryffindors.

"So, what, are you really friends now, after all—I mean, after... everything?!" Hermione simply could not wrap her mind around the idea.

"Well, no. I mean, he's not my friend like you're my friend. But I don't think we're enemies anymore. I mean, 'Mione, we talked for hours during detention. Normal conversation, too. No insults. No arguments. Just like he was some guy I hardly know who I was serving detention with."

"But he's not just some guy, Harry," interjected Ron angrily. "He's Malfoy. He's the guy who tried to get Hagrid fired. And who teamed up with Umbridge to get you kicked out of school last year. And who called Hermione a m... a mu... a you-know-what, just yesterday!"

Harry had to concede that point. "You're right. You're both right. Malfoy has always been a little snot to everyone. And we've always hated each other. But it's like, when we fought we kind of got it out of our system or something. I'm not saying I'm going to go hang out with him instead of you two, I'm just saying..." He cast about for the right words.

"What are you saying, Harry?" asked Hermione doubtfully.

Harry sighed. What was he saying? "Plenty of people want to kill me. I'm not going to go out of my way to keep enemies. I have enough. If Malfoy drops off that list, I'm fine with it. I'm willing to let the past go."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a long look before nodding.

"I guess that makes sense, mate," said Ron.

"Just be careful, Harry."

XIXIX

The three walked into the Potions' dungeon Monday afternoon, and made their way to some seats in the middle of the room. They had decided that that was a fair compromise, since Hermione insisted on always sitting in the front, and Ron and Harry found that Professor Snape picked on them far less when they hid in the back.

As they readied their cauldrons, Malfoy walked in, flanked as always by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Hey, Malfoy," said Harry, glancing up from his desk.

"Hey, Potter."

The four words were a simple enough gesture, but the room grew quiet for a second, and then exploded in whispers and murmurs. Harry looked back up and around the room, startled by the reaction. Malfoy just smirked, apparently pleased to be center of attention. He moved to his seat without looking at Harry again. Crabbe and Goyle, however, glared menacingly at him, cracking their knuckles.

Harry was about to ask Hermione and Ron why they thought Crabbe and Goyle were still being such pricks, when he noticed that they were both glaring at Malfoy. He smiled to himself. 'Maybe we're not so different after all.'

Potions was less bad than normal. Snape still picked on Harry and Ron, but at least Malfoy wasn't adding to the problems. Harry received no jeers, no silent insults or threats. He thought he could manage Snape okay so long as he and Malfoy were no longer enemies.

Even Ron noticed. As they left the dungeon, he said to Harry, "I'm not saying I trust him, because I don't, but you're right about things being better without Malfoy being a prick all the time."

XIXIX

The next two weeks passed in a tornado of academic stress, studies, and tests. People stopped talking about Harry and Malfoy so much, mainly because there was not much to talk about. Their civility turned out to be a lot less interesting to talk about than when they were fighting in the halls all the time. For Harry's part, he didn't think about it very much after the first few days, suddenly being buried under seeming miles of parchment.

His last exam for the fall term was Divination with Firenze, a centaur who used to live in the Forbidden Forest. The Gryffindor and Slytherin class sat out in the hall outside the classroom that was magically transformed to look like the night sky. One by one, they went in to read the movements of the stars and planets, and divine major world events from them.

Harry and Ron found Divination to be a nearly impossible subject. Firenze's teachings were enigmatic at best. He often explained vague meanings behind planetary alignments, but then contradicted those vague meanings with other vague meanings. Harry and Ron spent their last few minutes pouring over their notes, trying to assign various vague meanings to Mars' alignment with Saturn, or Pluto, or Earth.

He didn't notice Malfoy enter or leave the classroom for his exam. But he did look up when the Slytherin said to the waiting Crabbe and Goyle, "Of course I passed. I just looked up and said, 'Oh, I clearly see major changes ahead, but I don't know what they are, because Mars is so bright.'"

Harry laughed. Malfoy looked down at him with a friendly smirk. "That's great, Malfoy. Do you mind if I use that?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Suit yourself, Potter. I'm heading out now, but I'll see you after break, okay?"

"Sure. Later, Malfoy."

"Later, Potter."

And then he smiled. Harry must have smiled back, but really couldn't say for sure, because at that moment, his thoughts scattered. It was the first time Malfoy had openly smiled at Harry without blood on his face, and Harry was startled. He really did look like someone Harry could be friends with.

He could definitely be friends with Malfoy.

XIXIX

Remus Lupin greeted Harry with a hug in the Black house, which served as the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Harry was glad Professor Lupin was there. He hated coming to this house, his inheritance. It reminded him too much of his godfather. Harry couldn't look around the house without remembering the dark objects that once adorned the walls as symbols of Sirius' dysfunctional upbringing.

Sirius grew up as a good wizard in a dark family that cut him off when he was a teenager. Harry and Sirius shared a bond over their horrible childhoods. Harry hated being witness to it again and again, every time he came "home."

Lupin released Harry and smiled broadly at him. "How are you doing? How were your exams? Are you hungry? Do you want some tea?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Fine. Hard. No. Yes."

Lupin looked up, mentally scrolling through the questions he had asked Harry. "Tea? You want tea?"

"That would be lovely."

Harry set his bags down on the drawing room floor, and placed the portkey Dumbledore had conjured up on the end table. With Voldemort and the Death Eaters at large, the Order never allowed Harry to travel alone anywhere. He went by portkey or floo powder from the Order's headquarters to the Weasley's house, to Diagon Alley. When he had to go anywhere else, he was accompanied by a large group of Order members.

But into the kitchen, Lupin served as Harry's only guide. Lupin slung his arm over Harry's shoulder in a fatherly way. Harry was not yet sure how he felt about Lupin falling into this role in his life. An orphan from age one, the only real father-figure Harry had ever had was Sirius, who he had so recently lost.

Sirius.

"I know it's hard," said Lupin quietly after he filled the kettle. "I miss him too."

Harry looked down. He must have been showing some of his hurt. He suddenly didn't want tea anymore.

"Do you mind if we have tea late? I'd kind of like to take a nap."

"No problem, Harry. I'm here if you need anything."

Harry headed out into the hall and then upstairs to his room. Lupin stood in the kitchen, staring at the door after Harry, feeling helpless, and wondering if he would ever get through.

XIXIX

Harry lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling awful in his house. In Sirius' house. It would always be Sirius' house to Harry. The midterm exams were over, but the stress of study was still with him. He was glad to be at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. He didn't feel quite right unless he knew what was going on outside, in the war. But why did the headquarters have to be here?

Harry's shoulders hurt from the tension of anxiety, of loss. The last time he felt like this, he had gotten into a fistfight with Malfoy. He imagined Sirius laughing as he told him about the fight, and tears came to his eyes. He rolled face down in his bed and sobbed into his pillow.

He cried until he fell asleep, thinking about Sirius, thinking about Professor Lupin, thinking about Malfoy.

XIXIX

He was standing on the Quidditch field in his robes, ready for a game. The stands were full of cheering crowds. Sirius stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders, readying him for the game, giving him words of encouragement.

Harry looked up and saw Malfoy in his Slytherin robes standing on the other side of the field. He was holding the snitch in his hand, showing it to the crowds.

"Go get him," said Sirius, with a slight push.

Harry walked forward, as did Malfoy. The crowd was screaming all around them. Harry looked back to Sirius for encouragement, but Sirius was gone. Suddenly, Harry felt all alone. The crowd went silent. Malfoy was standing in front of him, holding the snitch. Harry was so mad at him for having the snitch.

But then Malfoy lifted his hand high above his head, and let the snitch slip through his fingers. Harry watched it fly away, to be lost in the sky. He looked back down to Malfoy who was smiling. He had a beautiful, open smile. Harry wanted to reach out and touch his face. Harry wanted to...

Everything turned dark, and Malfoy was on the ground, writhing in pain. Harry wanted to stop, but his wand continued to point at the screaming Slytherin. He opened his mouth and let out a vicious, high-pitched laugh, and felt a searing, white-hot pain shoot across his forehead.

Harry was screaming and banging his head against the wall when Lupin grabbed him.

"Harry. Harry! Wake up. Oh, Merlin, wake up!" Lupin dragged him away from the wall and into his arms. "It's okay. You're safe. Please wake up."

He rocked the shaking sixteen-year-old, holding his flailing limbs tight. Harry tried to turn away, but Lupin held him close. Even when Harry retched, and threw up on his chest, he held Harry close.

Eventually, the shaking turned to trembles. Harry looked up, seeming to hardly notice the vomit between them. "Voldemort was torturing him."

"Who, Harry?"

"Malfoy," he said weakly.

"Lucius?"

"Draco." Tears began to stream down his face. He winced suddenly, reached up and grabbed his scar. And still, Lupin held him. The pain seemed to subside, but it had reopened old wounds. Harry again began to cry, but this time, he was not alone.

XIXIX

Cleaned up several hours later, Harry quietly made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He was greeted by the friendly faces of Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, Angelina Johnson, and Professor Lupin.

"All right, Harry?" asked Angelina, clapping him on the back. Angelina had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team for years with Harry. Shortly after she graduated last year, she joined the Order, and was now one of their most active recruiting members. She was smart and charismatic, and played Quidditch for the Chuddley Cannons, which meant that she traveled often and had a sparkling reputation with young potential Order members.

Harry smiled weakly and nodded. "You?"

"I'm great. We won our last game, and you know, I think we got a shot at the World Cup this year!"

"Good one. Will you get me tickets?"

"Box seats." Angelina nudged his side.

Tonks jumped over and gave Harry a short, squeezing hug. Today she had long, blue dreadlocks and a septum piercing. "Nice nose ring," said Harry.

"Ah, I wanted to try something different. Do you really like it?"

Harry cocked his head and squinted. "You know, I do."

He slid into a seat next to Mad-Eye Moody, who shook his hand and gruffly said, "Hello, Potter, doing well this evening?"

"Been better, actually. My scar was hurting earlier."

Moody nodded seriously. "Albus and Snape are still working on that. They'll figure something out."

"I doubt Snape is trying too hard," mumbled Harry. They had never been on good terms, but things had gotten decidedly worse between them since last year when Harry sneaked into some of Snape's memories in a pensieve.

"You know he's trying," said Lupin calmly as he placed a pot of hot stew on the table before them. He was looking down at Harry with concerned eyes. "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded, but it was a lie.

"Good," said Tonks enthusiastically. "Dumbledore wants you to work on Defense Against the Dark Arts while you're here over the break, seeing as how there's no teacher at Hogwarts this year."

"Harry doesn't need a teacher," said Angelina defiantly. "He was teaching us last year."

"You can never learn enough," said Moody. "Plus, we don't want him to fall out of practice."

Harry looked at Lupin and shrugged. "Whatever."

Moody and Lupin exchanged glances. Harry pretended not to notice, but his mood darkened further. Even after everything, the Order pushed him to the sidelines. Now he would spend the next three weeks practicing spells against allies rather than enemies. They would probably have nightly conversations about him after he went to bed, talking about how he "wasn't ready yet" to be out there fighting.

Harry tried to pull into himself during dinner, but Lupin wouldn't have it. He drilled Harry about everything going on at Hogwarts—all of his classes, all of his teachers, all of his friends. Harry carefully avoided bringing up his truce with Malfoy. He didn't want to think about him right now. He kept seeing flashes of that lovely smile turning into horrific screams. He felt sick again. He hardly ate.

Despite Lupin's protests, he returned to his room after dinner. He was unpacking his belongings when he heard an angry murmur of voices downstairs. He opened his door almost silently, and strained his ears to hear what was happening. He wished that he still had a pair of Fred and George's extendible ears, but there was nothing to be done about that now. As it was, he only caught catches of the conversation in the drawing room.

"Surely Potter knows better..." barked Moody. Harry scowled. Already, they were talking about him behind his back.

A steady murmur that sounded like Snape's sneering voice interrupted him. He spoke in such a controlled low tone that Harry couldn't make out a single word.

"I think that might better come from you," stated Lupin angrily.

Another murmur from Snape, followed by a jumble of voices. The few words Harry made out included, "Draco Malfoy" and "death wish." So, that's what this was about. Snape must have been at the Death Eater meeting with Malfoy.

Harry's heart suddenly dropped into his stomach. Malfoy couldn't have been tortured because of him, could he? He stepped back into his room. He didn't want to know any more. He backed against the wall with his eyes squeezed shut.

Then he heard a soft knock on the door.

"Harry?"

It was Lupin. Harry kept his eyes shut. He heard Lupin rush forward.

"You're so pale, what happened? Did you have another vision?" Lupin's laid his hands gently on Harry's shoulders. Harry shook his head. "What is it?"

In barely a whisper, Harry said, "It was because of me, wasn't it?"

Lupin sighed heavily. "Then you heard? I was just coming to get you. I didn't think we should be having that conversation without you."

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Lupin. He meant it. "Is Snape still down there?"

"Yes, Professor Snape is still downstairs."

"I'm not going. I know enough."

"Harry—"

"No."

He walked over to his desk and sat with his back to the door. Presently, Lupin walked out. Harry put his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands. This was too much. He wasn't even friends with the guy. They hardly even spoke. Again, he saw Malfoy's smile. He felt his heart tighten. It wasn't fair.

He heard footsteps nearing his room and looked up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black shadow enter and his heart skipped as, for one heart-wrenching moment, he thought his godfather was behind him.

But he turned to see the cold, pale face of Professor Severus Snape.

"Mr. Potter," he sneered, "I had noticed that you and young Mr. Malfoy had called a sort of... truce... at Hogwarts. But it has recently come to my attention that perhaps your relationship is something... more?"

Harry looked at him, genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?" he spat.

Snape calmly raised an eyebrow and looked to the doorway where Lupin and Moody were standing. Lupin stared hard at Harry, studying his features. "It's not true," he said to Snape, still looking at Harry.

Snape returned his gaze to Harry. "Regardless, Mr. Potter, you would be wise to know that young Mr. Malfoy is not someone who can be trusted. He only acts to his own benefit, and that includes actions both toward the light and the dark side. You are advised not to let him... seduce you into thinking otherwise."

He regarded Harry for a moment more, and then turned abruptly and strode out the door. His footsteps receded, but Harry did not hear his voice again. Tonks and Angelina must have left. Moody and Lupin both stepped into the room.

"Potter," said Moody. "Perhaps you deserve an explanation."

"Uh, I think I got that," said Harry snidely.

"Harry!" said Lupin. "It's not that—"

"Look, can I just be alone right now?" Lupin and Moody were quiet. Harry knew he was scowling, so he tried not to look at either of them. He wasn't mad at them. How could he let them know that right now? "We'll start training tomorrow, okay? I just need some time right now."

He lay awake late into the night, thinking about Malfoy. All those years of being enemies, of hating him... Fighting with him on the Quidditch pitch... Malfoy smiling at him just this afternoon... Malfoy smiling... Malfoy writhing in pain... Because of Harry... Writhing in pain because he was attracted to Harry.

XIXIX

Harry spent the next day, and every other day of the break except Christmas, studying Defense Against the Dark Arts with Lupin, Tonks, and Moody. Despite all he knew, he realized quickly that Moody was right—there was so much left to learn. He threw himself into these study and practice sessions, in part as a distraction from the memories of Sirius that lived in the house.

At night, various members of the Order would gather at the house and work on strategy for their battles against the Death Eaters. They were compiling a list of probable and definite Death Eaters—people to watch and to watch out for. This was often disheartening work. Even as the Order's membership grew, the Death Eaters ranks similarly grew in number.

The Order's members would spend long hours debating ways to contain and reveal Death Eaters, and ways to protect the wizarding and muggle publics. Often these debates would lead to long tangents of complaint against the Ministry of Magic for their lack of help to the Order, but someone would always remind the bitter group of Dumbledore's words that the Ministry was all politics, and so long as it remained against Voldemort, the Order was to continue to support it. No one liked these reminders, but everyone would grumble agreement.

On Christmas day, Harry and Professor Lupin made their way by floo powder to the Burrow to spend the day celebrating with the Weasleys. Hermione was spending the holiday with muggle relatives, which Ron, Ginny, and Harry were all disappointed about. Mr. Weasley hinted quietly to Harry that he had attempted to get an invitation to spend the holiday with Hermione's family so he could learn more about how muggles spent the holiday, but Mrs. Weasley would have nothing of it.

Fred and George came with a bag of brilliant gag-gifts. Mrs. Weasley scolded them for bringing such dangerous items to the Burrow, until she opened a package containing the black velvet cloak they had bought her. She pulled them into a tight embrace, gushing over how proud she was of them. Bill and Charlie Weasley were also at the Burrow to celebrate the holiday. Harry enjoyed talking with them about their adventures with work and with the Order in far countries. He hardly noticed Percy's absence, except for the few unopened gifts that sat hopeful of his arrival.

Harry realized as he left that night that that was the first full day he had been happy since he could remember. Even returning to his godfather's house didn't seem that bad. As Lupin slung his arm over Harry's shoulder and led him up to his bedroom for the night, Harry felt truly lucky. Between Lupin and the Weasleys, Harry felt like he had a family.

His mood remained somewhat lifted throughout the rest of the holidays, through the training, through the Order meetings—even the Order meetings Snape attended. He made up his mind before the break ended that he would have to talk to Malfoy as soon as possible upon returning to Hogwarts.

That chance came the morning after his return. The students were spilling into the Great Hall for breakfast, when Harry found himself walking not six feet from the Slytherin.

"Oi! Malfoy!" he called. He pushed his way through the crowd toward him, to be greeted with the old sneer.

"Sod off, Potter," he spat.

Harry looked at him, bewildered.

"I said, SOD OFF, you bloody prick!" Malfoy turned and made his way into the Great Hall, leaving Harry alone in the crowd, feeling like he had been slapped.

XIXIX

XIX

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Author's note:

Cailin Malafe- Thank you! Please keep reading!

HPSlashfan4evr- Thank you! I'm trying to do something a little different than most Harry/Draco fics. Let me know if it continues to go okay.

Headphonetherapy- Thank you! And don't worry- plenty of angst to come. And I'll try to avoid the Astronomy Tower, just for you ;)