Chapter 19
Dinner was a rather interesting affair. Hermoine had skipped breakfast, for some reason, and Ron had spent all morning in Potions class shooting wary looks over his shoulder at her, on tenderhooks thanks to his little daisies thing. Frankly, it was a minor miracle he hadn't blown up his cauldron. Harry figured that it just went to prove that the Head Boy wasn't nearly as dumb as he claimed to be.
Then Hermione had taken off from lunch, only pausing to grab a sandwich, and heading for the library to bury herself in books and those spells Harry'd given her. He'd gotten to eat and listen to Ron sulk in his own food, rather than watch the ongoing saga that was Ron and Hermione. Lunch had been followed by Divination, always a joke, and then a nice, brisk Quidditch practice that had Ron dropping the quaffle into the hoop a half dozen times. His friend had even fallen off his broom once, much to the rest of the team's amusement. Somehow the story of the daisies had gotten out, probably thanks to Cara/Ginny.
Finally, Harry'd given up and called practice early, tactfully suggesting to Ron that he go drown himself in the shower, because he was a bloody useless keeper at the moment who should really just get off his ass and take care of his girl problems. Ron had responded by cracking Harry over the head with the quaffle, leading to a scuffle on the Quidditch pitch and a few minor bruises. Ginny had finally put an end to the whole matter, looking slightly peeved when Harry'd gotten socked in the nose and started bleeding. She'd shot water from her wand, soaking them both, and told them to grow up and go change.
They'd both stomped off, muttering and glaring, and had finished up with a nice fight staring flying bars of soap. Harry'd won, thanks to his superior levitational skills. Ron had called it dumb luck after one bar had gotten lodged in his rather large mouth, sufficiently distracting him for Harry's killing blow to the back of his head with a rather large bit of soap.
Ginny had been waiting for the two of them, looking rather bored, and had laced her fingers with Harry for the walk up to the Great Hall. It had given Harry a warm, secure feeling for some reason, walking into the Hall with her hand nestled in his. Even though he could all but feel the sharp looks from one section of the Slytherin table, he didn't tense, didn't panic. Well, until he got the glare from Bill up at the teachers' table.
Ginny leaned close as they loaded up with good roast beef and potatoes. "Don't worry about Bill. Believe me, he's the least of your worries," she murmured.
Harry glared at her as he stabbed a bite of his beef. "You're so helpful," he grumbled.
Ron snickered from across the table. "I warned you, mate," he said. "You ought to be afraid." He waggled his eyebrows. "VERY afraid. Bill's going to go write the rest, you know. Even mum."
Ginny heaved a sigh. "Blimey," she said, looking aggrieved. "I suppose I'll have to write them all myself."
"Will that actually stop them?" Harry muttered under his breath.
Ginny pursed her lips and helped herself to a roll. "When you know as much family blackmail as I do, yes," she said.
Harry grinned, feeling a little relieved, and Ron just looked disappointed. "I still don't think it's fair that you got to have such quiet feet," he said, mouth full.
Ginny took a dainty bite. "Sorry, Ronald, but yours are just too big to eavesdrop properly," she said sweetly. "Oh, and about that time this summer you had a 'dream' in the middle of the night..."
"That's enough," Ron said hastily as Harry snickered. "I get it."
"Good," Ginny said with satisfaction.
Just then, Hermione came breezing in, a quill tucked rather haphazardly behind her ear like she'd forgotten it was there, her hair looking a bit more crazy than usual, and a gleam in her eyes that said she was having the time of her life.
"Goodness, Harry, you can't imagine what some of those spells are," she said, dropping down rather unceremoniously and beginning to fill a plate. "I mean, I'm just trying to find where the different pieces are coming from, you know, so I can start to see if there are ways to counter them, and I've been in the Restricted Section no less than two dozen times this afternoon, each time after a different book. Madam Pince is getting rather nosy." She took a bite of roast beef, chewed and swallowed. "So far, I've only managed to sort out the different hands, trying to put them together and see if there's any similarities. I started with one group, I think they're Lucius Malfoy's, the handwriting looks a lot like what was in that journal you showed me..."
"Hermione," Harry interrupted, seeing that Ron was sinking lower and lower into his plate of food, looking completely dispirited. "Take a breath." Hermione obligingly shut her mouth and instead of keeping going, took a few more bites.
"So, Hermione," Ginny finally said, after a long minute or two of eating. "Did you have a good evening last night?" There was a rather wicked gleam in her eyes, Harry thought. She was just dying to make Ron's evening even more miserable than it already was. He loved it.
Hermione swallowed and gave her a blankly puzzled look. "Why, I did that essay for Charms, and helped tutor a few third-year Hufflepuffs in History of Magic," she said, sounding rather vague. "I suppose it was a fine evening."
Harry looked at her, a bit puzzled. Surely she would have said something about the flowers... Then he spotted the smirk buried deep in her eyes. Whooboy, was Ron in for a nice ride, he thought, counting his lucky stars that he wasn't in his friend's shoes. Ginny might have been a tough decision, but he hadn't had to chase her at all. It looked like Hermione was going to put Ron through a few hoops. He made a note to mention it to Ron later. Maybe he could goad the Head Boy into just putting them all out of their misery and snogging the girl in question.
Meanwhile, Ron had stopped eating and was poking at his food rather aimlessly, a dark look on his face. Harry took a good look and then winced. Ok. Maybe he wouldn't do that to Ron. His friend was just a bit too insecure about the whole thing. He flung a rather pointed look at Hermione, who was in the middle of chewing a bite of potatoes. She gave him a puzzled look, and he glanced at Ron and then back at her.
Hermione just blinked sweetly and swallowed. "Yes, Harry?" she asked.
Harry resisted the urge to whack his head on the table. She was being deliberately obtuse. "Nothing," he muttered. And poked his own food.
He felt rather than heard Ginny sigh. "Hermione, can you help me with my Charms later?" she asked, as she nudged Harry. He relaxed a bit. Oh, good, Ginny was going to hit the Head Girl upside the head later. He hoped.
"Sure," Hermione told her, and then the conversation wandered off into schoolwork and just how on earth Flitwick managed to find robes in his size. Meanwhile Ron finally gave up on his food and shoved his plate away.
"I'm going up," he muttered, standing. Harry gave him a look, but Ron just shrugged a bit and headed out of the Hall, hands in his pockets.
Harry frowned and looked back at Hermione. "You're pretty mean," he said, interrupting her and Ginny.
Hermione stopped and turned to look at him, drawing herself up straight and staring down her nose rather regally. "Excuse me?" she asked. It was a little scary.
Harry plowed on. "He's really not that sure about this whole thing, you know. Ron's nervous about everything. Hell, you know that." He gave her a puzzled look. "Why're you being mean about the flowers?"
Hermoine just looked at him, and then shook her head very slowly. "Harry," she said quietly. "Do you have ANY concept what it's like to love someone for years, YEARS, Harry, and not have him notice you are even alive?"
Harry was suddenly very conscious of Ginny sitting next to him. "Err, no?" he tried, suspecting this was one of those times that there was no right answer.
"That's right. You don't," she said, eyes narrowing on his face. "I do, however. Ginny could tell you exactly what I'm going to, only she's too bloody nice to you." Hermione leaned over the table, voice low and making Harry start to sweat. Girls, the ones he knew especially, were scary. "I've spent the last four years waiting on Ron to wake up and realize that I was standing right here. I've listened to him ogle veelas and Ravenclaws with big breasts and whatever the name of that singer was. I've sat through endless discussions of Quidditch and chess, until I was ready to scream. I've cried night after night after night because we'd had a fight and it mattered more to me than him that he was angry with me." Her eyes gleamed. "So you can be damn sure I'm going to make sure I get a little something back now."
Harry was pretty sure he wanted to head for the dorm, just like Ron. Except he was way too stupid. "Yeah," he said. "But here's the problem, Hermione. Ron's never thought he was as good as you." He held up a hand, hoping she wasn't going to hex him. Knowing Hermione, it would be one he didn't know and would be a bitch to get rid of. "No, really. Ever since we met you, he's felt like you're smarter and better and whatever than him. Remember first year, before the troll? And now..." he shrugged a little. "Now he's absolutely convinced that you're going to just reject him because you're too good for him."
Hermione was staring at him, and he hadn't sprouted any extra appendages, so Harry decided it was time to make his exit. "Um, don't forget to be at the Room, eight tonight," he muttered, and beat a hasty retreat. He didn't look back, just made a beeline for the door. He wasn't sure if he had two angry or stunned girls behind him.
Outside the Hall, he breathed a sigh of relief, and hoped that Ginny wasn't ticked at him. Because he was still a little uncertain himself, and if she decided to get mad at him, it would really be awkward.
Harry pushed the thoughts away, and turned his feet toward the dorms. He had about an hour until they'd told the former DA members to meet, and he needed Ron. After all, if he was going to have to run this damn thing again, his best mate sure as hell was going to suffer with him.
He had a moment of darkness, thinking again about all the lives he was about to ruin by wrapping them around his own ugly one, before he shoved those thoughts away. Ron had said it. They were all going to be there anyway. He was just going to try to keep them alive.
Ginny was feeling very... contemplative as she approached the Room of Requirement with Cara that evening. Harry'd surprised her at dinner, when he'd actually told Hermione that Ron was nervous. Frankly, paying attention to emotions had never been his strong suit, and the fact that he recognized Ron's and then made himself talk about them... well, that had impressed her. She rather thought it had Hermione as well, since the Head Girl had been rather quiet and thoughtful for the rest of the meal.
The door was open just a crack, and the two of them stepped into the room. Ginny supposed secrecy wasn't as big a concern this time as she looked around the room. Not only were there old DA members here, they'd brought friends. Everyone looked nervous and rather grim. Harry and Ron were over in a corner, heads together conferring.
Harry glanced up as she came into the room, almost as if he'd known it was her. As his eyes met hers she realized he did know it was her, and wondered a bit. Then she let it go. There were other things to worry about right now. She gave him a little smile, just enough to know that she wasn't mad at him from earlier, and saw him ease just a touch. Lordy, she loved those eyes, she thought as he turned back to Ron. There was just something about that shade of green, the color of the grass in that shady spot down by the swimming hole at the Burrow...
The door opened and shut a few more times behind her as she and Cara quietly moved to find a place to stand. The room looked much like it had when Harry'd demonstrated for them, except much larger. This was a room for practice, for training. Not for fun.
Harry turned and cleared his throat, pulling out his wand and pointing it at himself, muttering. "Right, then, everyone," he said, amplified voice echoing. Ginny watched him. Of course he'd be using the wand, he didn't want everyone to know what he could really do.
"You're all here because we told you we were starting the DA again," Harry started. The room was silent as he spoke, a hundred eyes on him, listening and waiting and judging. Hermione slipped to stand next to Ginny, squeezing her hand in greeting. "This time, it's not for studying." Harry paused, looking like he really didn't want to say the next part. "This time, it's because there's going to be a war. Soon, really soon. And people need to know how to stay alive."
A hand went up from the far side of the room. "Harry, how do you know it's coming?" someone asked. Padma, Ginny thought it was.
Harry stood straight and tall and so handsome it made her heart ache. Only now she had him, and could hold him just like she wanted. "I know," he said simply, shoving his hands in his pocket. There was not a sound in the room. He turned and looked about the room again. "I know," he repeated soberly. "It's coming. And there's not going to be a middle ground, a safe place. If you're not on the side of the Dark, Voldemort will come after you. It doesn't matter who or what or where. He doesn't care."
Ron stepped up at that point, and Ginny couldn't help being proud of how much a good Head Boy he was. Her brother. "Look, folks," he said, standing much like Harry, tall with his hands in his pockets. "You can believe it or not, that's up to you. What we're going to do is try to give ourselves a fighting chance. I don't know about you, but I'm in this thing whether I want to or not. Even it I wasn't going to be getting Wonder Boy's back," he said jerking his head at Harry, getting a few nervous chuckles. "I'd be in this thing. My family's in it. And besides, it's just right."
There was quiet, dead quiet. All those eyes on Harry, on Ron. Harry cleared his throat. "Anyway. If you don't want to do this, now's the time to say so." There was still quiet. "If you don't believe me, if you don't want to work... because that's what we're going to do. You're going to have to learn how to fight, to really fight. And maybe that's not everyone here."
Not a soul in the room moved. Finally Seamus spoke up, from somewhere behind Ginny. "Harry, I didn't believe you last time around. And I'll be damned if I'll make that same mistake again." There was a murmur of agreement. "So whatever you've got that can help, I'll do."
Ginny'd thought that hearing that kind of support might have made Harry feel better about it all, but instead she thought she saw him tense. Bloody boy, he felt so responsible for everyone and everything...
"Right," he said, giving Seamus a nod. "Then here's how it's going to work. Two nights a week. Come whenever you can. When you're here, you'll probably get beat up pretty bad." He gave a nod toward Ron. "Ron'll help me, what with getting things going. Then it'll be lots of practice." His eyes moved to the back of the room, and she thought she saw a flash of humor. "I'll be teaching you, and Draco Malfoy will be teaching you."
A hundred heads swung about, gaping, and muttering started as people spotted the blonde Slytherin leaning against the doorframe negligently. He just sneered. "Harry, what the bloody blazes is he..." started someone, Seamus again, Ginny thought.
Malfoy interrupted. "Do you have any idea what it's like to face a Deatheater and live, Finnegan?" Draco drawled. He surveyed them all disdainfully. "Potter does. Possibly a few others. The rest of you," he snorted. "You're fodder right now. Pathetic excuses for wizards who would be dead before you turned around."
There was an angry rumble, and Harry broke in. "Shove it," he said bluntly, and heads swung back as people realized he was NOT talking to Malfoy. "You don't have any idea how bad it's going to be. I do. He does," he said, nodding toward the back again. "You don't have to like him. But if you stay, you have to listen. Because Malfoy there's going to help you learn to stay alive."
There was quiet again. Ginny looked back to see Malfoy raise an eyebrow. "What a sorry lot," he said, scornfully. "Can they actually be taught, Potter?"
"Right then," came Dean's voice, sharp in the large room. "You're a bloody git, Malfoy, but Harry's bringing you in. And if Harry says you're not on You-Know-Who's side, then that's good enough for me. Like he said, I don't have to like you. But I'll listen."
Slowly heads nodded, and Ginny felt a wave of relief that no one was leaving. This was going to be hard, that was for certain. She slipped her hand into her pocket and gripped her wand. But she and everyone else was ready. They were putting their trust in the boy standing so straight and tall in the front of the room, and if he said to jump, she would trust him to catch her.
"Good," Harry said. "Then everyone loose the shoes and sweaters, and let's get started." He looked back at Malfoy. "You want to start?"
A cold and rather cruel smile graced Malfoy's face. "By all means." The crowd parted as he strolled casually up toward where Harry stood, Ron by his side. "Let's start with an exhibition."
And Harry grinned, really grinned. A wicked and very amused smile. "By all means."
AN: I do love leaving things hanging...I apologize to all my wonderful, beloved reviewers, but I'm coming down sick and I'm just too tired right now to answer individual reviews. So next chapter, you can count on lots of responses and answers to all your questions. Thank you all!