Old ends, new beginnings

What we call the beginning is often the end

And to make an end is to make a beginning.

The end is where we start from. – T.S.Elliot

Harry resumed his reading of "Quidditch through the Ages" after he made the effort to go to the kitchen and make a cup of coffee.

It was annoying that such a book that would have entranced him for days seemed now, if not boring, then as close to that as it could.

He stifled a yawn and tried to focus on his lecture but was soon distracted by Ron addressing him from the other bed.

They were currently lodged in the room in which they had slept when last in the Order's headquarters.

During the time that Harry had spent at the Dursleys', Godric's Hollow and the Burrow, there had been wards put on the house and several Unplotability charms.

The Order had acquired a quite impressive number of new members including some of the students who were to start the seventh year at school.

Half of the old Order wasn't present, though; Mrs. Weasley was currently at the Burrow, Fred and George were still in Diagon Alley and Charlie was trying to gather new members for the Order. The others were spending most of their time at the Ministry and he hardly saw them anymore so the Headquarters were somewhat deserted, considering how lively they used to be last time he was there.

Since Bill and Fleur's wedding there had been nothing to look forward to; McGonagall had strictly forbidden him even to exit the house, not to mention searching for the Horcruxes.

He was to stay at the Headquarters till the Aurors had the decency to accompany him to Hogwarts and retrieve the books that, according to Hermione, could give them a clue on Tom Riddle, or the ancient magic used in making those wretched things. And, as they didn't have any decency, he had been killing his time locked up in number twelve, Grimmauld Place for a whole week now.

He lacked a purpose. He felt useless and dismal. He could have done so much during that week, but no, all he could do was make holes in the carpet by pacing, and getting bored to death.

Ron mumbled something and moved slowly into a sitting position.

'Could you bring some sandwiches, considering you aren't interested in that book anyway?' he asked, stretching sluggishly.

'Is it really that obvious? Anyway, why don't you go?' Harry asked, already at the door.

'Nah, I'm a bit busy here.' Ron took some wizard comics from under his bed and pretended to scan them.

'You're such a sluggish bastard at times.'

Ron merely shrugged and tried to stifle a yawn.

'Ah, never mind,' Harry grunted and climbed down the stairs.

This was annoying at best. After Sirius had died he was prevented from doing anything and look to what that led – not that he could have done anything to prevent Dumbledore's death, but he would have felt more at ease if everybody just let him be, he told the air in general when he came to a halt at the top of the stairs.

Lupin was standing right in front of him, but that was by far the last thing on his mind.

What caught his sight was a glimpse of silver hair and, what Harry would have blamed on large quantities of liquor, but had to acknowledge as the cruel reality: the face of Draco Malfoy. And everything attached to it, come to that.

His first impulse was to grab his wand – his second was to shout on top of his lungs.

But, as impulses go, they didn't follow the exact order and he found himself bellowing and armed at the same time.

'Harry, it's me, Remus. Lower your wand, please. I really don't want either of my eyes poked out. That could be terribly inconvenient for a werewolf.'

'Move. Aside,' Harry said and there was a certain finality to his words that made Lupin actually do it. But when he moved, he positioned himself right in front of Draco, obscuring the boy completely.

'To the other side, Professor,' he said through gritted teeth.

'No, Harry. I am not going to allow useless bloodshed in this house. Draco is here at our bidding.'

'And who do you mean by we? 'Cause if it's Voldemort and me, that would explain a lot. Otherwise I don't see any reason to lead Death Eaters inside our headquarters.'

'Let's calm down and discuss this over supper, Harry. I'm sure you'll understand.'

'Somehow I don't think I'll treasure this meal much. And my appetite vanished, anyway.'

'Harry, stop being obnoxious. We're going to discuss this like grown-ups.'

'Grown-ups, you say? Terrific! That would be such a lovely change from being treated as a dim-witted child all summer. Do go on.'

'Well, that can't be helped. You're acting like one right now.'

'What?'

Professor Lupin has never talked to him like that. Something strange was going on, he knew it. Well, not that having Draco Malfoy in his house wasn't evidence enough of that.

'What are you trying to say?' he asked, his curiosity taking over now. 'Do you want to adopt Malfoy now, or what?'

Draco, who all this time had been glaring haughtily at Harry, started making throwing-up noises at Lupin's back.

'Shut it, Malfoy, or you'll find that, despite my defective grasp of the Unforgivables, I am very inventive when it comes to jinxes. The fact that you're still standing now, it's all thanks to Professor Lupin, 'cause I give him credit. I don't give you credit, Malfoy, so you should start behaving normally, or not even he will be able to defend you.'

'Right,' Lupin said awkwardly. 'And now, let's go downstairs. Please call up on Ron.'

'Bloody hell!' Ron stood dumbstruck in the doorframe for a moment then his hand flew to his wand.

Harry poked his head in and he had to admit it was a disturbing sight. The assembly stood leisurely, except for Draco who looked really out of place and made Harry feel slightly better because of this, while Tonks was making tea as if nothing had happened and it was an every day occurrence to have a bunch of Slytherins roaming around your kitchen.

For now he realized Draco was not the only unexpected guest. A rather lanky Blaise Zabini and a sneering Pansy Parkinson occupied the seats at the far end of the table.

Hermione and Ginny stood there too, as far away from the three as they could, looking both expectant and somewhat annoyed.

'What is this? Since when has it become the Death Eaters' headquarters? Or maybe it's just Slytherin night, isn't it?'

'Now, now. Isn't it a little hot here?' It was Blaise who spoke.

'Do you want to become extinct, Zabini?'

'How could one possibly become extinct?'

'Shht. It's Weasley we're talking about. I suggest you nod your head and smile. No sudden moves either,' said Draco just loud enough for the whole room to hear.

Ron drew his wand quick enough, but at the time it was pointed at Malfoy there were at least three wands aimed in his direction, Ginny's being separated by inches from his face.

'Don't push it, Malfoy,' Ginny hissed.

'I think I already told you to shut up, once and for all,' said Harry looking murderous.

'Please, put your wands down.'

Every head spun round only to see Lupin standing in the doorframe with a disapproving expression on his face. 'I see we can't delay explanations any further,' he sighed, 'otherwise we'll have to spend the rest of the summer gathering remaining limbs.'

When he moved into the room, they could all see he wasn't alone. There was Fleur and Bill, Charlie, Mr. Weasley and Luna Lovegood coming in last, dreamy expression on her face and Quibbler in hand.

It wasn't at all common to have all of them gathered in the same room, especially after the end of the term. Each of them ate when and where he felt in the right mood to do so and they only saw each other once, or twice a day. It must have been dead serious to call on all of them like that, Harry thought.

'Now that we're all here, we can as well begin,' Lupin commenced, as he took a seat at the end of the table and motioned the others to do so as well.

'I suggest we get rid of the nasty bastards first,' said Ron throwing the Slytherins angry looks.

'They're the precise reason for this meeting. If you would be patient enough, in five short minutes, we'll have all sorted out.' Mr. Weasley felt the urge to explain.

'You see, we always said we needed as many wizards to join the order as we could get. And now we –'

'I think I can see where this is going,' Harry interrupted him looking distraught.

'Very good, Potter! A hundred points for Gryffindor for realizing the obvious.' Draco sneered in Harry's general direction.

'Silencio!' He aimed his wand so to hit Draco straight in the chest. 'Ah, so much better. Do carry on, Professor,' Harry said as he watched Draco struggling to speak.

'Finite incantatem. Pray forgive us mister Malfoy. We are all tiered and a bit edgy.' Lupin put an end to Harry's charm and shook his head in a manner Harry thought only Mrs. Weasley could have succeeded.

'Forgive us? Forgive us? Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater, also a Death Eater himself, the one who led them all into Hogwarts and is responsible for Dumbledore's death, is in our dining room, and you tell him to forgive us? I'd say you were under the Imperius curse, if I hadn't known better,' said Harry, the anger that had built inside him all night, finally coming to the surface in a sudden outburst.

'Now Harry, look –'

'Don't…just leave it!'

Ron's face lit as realization dawned on him.

'You mean to say that…Malfoy and…Zabini and…oh, I see.' His eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped.

'Potter, believe it or not, I am not in any way enamored with the idea of being with your lot,' Draco said with a snarl.

'Why did you come then?' Ginny asked menacingly. 'Have you thought that by coming here you'll make all of us fall on our knees and worship you? 'Cause if that's what you thought, then you were dead wrong. I had a really foul view on you before, and this worsened it, to say the least... betraying one's own kind… How do we know you won't betray us? And still, the same question I really can't find an answer for: why? You had everything. You succeeded in your mission, Dumbledore was dead, you could have got all the credit for it…why deny all that?'

'I am not going to tell you my reasons.'

Hermione seemed to want to say something, but no words escaped her lips.

'I know his reasons, and I can assure you they're serious ones.' Blaise raised his eyes to meet Ginny's gaze.

'Oh really, Zabini? And why should we trust you, when you come from the same lot as he does?'

'Because I signed a contract, which was his idea, for your information, that, should we betray you, we are to receive our payment under pain of –'

'Zabini, shut up!' It was Malfoy who spoke, his face revealing such a haunted expression, only to be found on criminals' faces when caught after one of their infamous deeds.

This seemed to cause stir and whispers among the Order.

'…of death,' Blaise concluded, and his last words made all the assembly fall silent.

Why was it that every time he did something vaguely moral, he tried to screen it like it was some sort of crime? – Harry thought as the awareness of this deed's implications dawned on him.

Blaise's words left him with a queer sensation he couldn't quite well place his finger on. Either way, this seemed to reassure him somewhat and to make him actually listen to their explanations instead of shouting on top of his lungs, which he did almost all the time lately.

Ron, on the other hand, was hardly convinced.

'Yeah, sure. As if something Malfoy did can be that charitable. I suggest you study that contract again, Professor. It surely has a breech for him to use without actually getting harmed when he turns back to them Death Eaters with all the information we can provide him.'

'It is a binding magical contract. You can't avoid the consequences of its clauses just because you changed your mind or because you feel contrary. Once signed, there is no turning back,' Lupin asserted in a grave tone.

Hermione seemed to turn a thought over and over in her mind. Finally she got up and approached the three.

'I believe you,' she said. 'I would have even if there wasn't any contract of the sort. I don't know why…I just do.'

'But Hermione, you're the one he's pestered the most. Remember all the times he used to call you a Mudblood.'

'I don't think we should still have grudges about silly insults instead of focusing on our task. And professor Lupin is right: we need as many members as we can get,' she extended her hand to Draco.

He looked at it as if it were a Blast-Ended Skrewt and, with a wince, took it and shook it reluctantly.

'Don't get too fluffy, Granger,' he said at last, and even indulged her a gracious smile. 'You're still the same old Mudblood to me.'

'Look! He's doing it again!' Ron banged his palm flat on the table.

'Ron, calm down! And you, mister Malfoy, please restrain yourself from using that word. If it goes like this, you might as well be called a blood-traitor just for being here.'

Ron gave him a smug smile. He was practically in awe of Lupin. He would have built him a statue in one of the main squares, if it came to that.

Draco made such a face that Ron considered placing this day into top 10 of his life, just for the look of it.

'Hah!' Luna said, looking up from her magazine.

'Did you just say "hah"?'

'Um…yes. I thought there was need of one in your conversation. Something to make you stop going in circles. You've been saying the same things over and over. Not a very interesting topic in the first place, but to continue repeating it…'

'Whatever. Busy day tomorrow, so let's to bed,' said Lupin swiftly.

'And did you just…quote Shakespeare?' Draco asked with a drawl. 'Not that there's anything wrong with quoting him, but your intonation is disastrous, no offence meant.'

'I think we could all do with some food and sleep,' said Mr. Weasley trying to calm spirits down, as he conjured some plates from the cupboard.

Ginny Hermione and Tonks joined him, as Ron and Harry were too preoccupied with outstaring the three new members of the Order and Bill banned Fleur from touching the cutlery.

Lupin left the room only to come back with a dozen Buterbeers floating around his head and a tray of beefsteak in one of his hands, while with the other he used his wand to direct all of the bottles on the table.

Bill attempted to make a salad out of the few vegetables left, while Luna studied The Quibbler with genuine interest.

When all the preparations were over, they seated themselves as to be at least one adult between the irreconcilable teenagers.

It was a slightly awkward meal but it lacked, though any other nasty comments, yells or doses of sarcasm. It all passed in sullen silence, and they were all relieved when after they finished the pudding, Mr. Weasley got up and ushered them all to bed.

His words had a note of finalty that suggested future screaming, if they did not comply.

Bill, Fleur, Charlie and Mr. Weasley himself stayed behind with Lupin to keep them company and probably discussed other of the Order's issues.

The so-called "adults" probably knew about the three already. It was only them, the young and unimportant ones, they had to break the news upon. And now that they had, the evening concluded, with some shouting and insults and a quite remarkable lack of sudden deaths, but it concluded anyway and none of them could actually believe it happened for real. Except for Luna who wasn't really interested in inter-house relations, and the Slytherins. When it comes to contracts, which you must either honour or die, you could trust one to know if he actually signed it or it was just a figment of his imagination.

Tonks showed them all to the second floor and then bid Harry and Ron goodnight, leading the others further up.

Hermione was to stay with Pansy, news that neither of them received with much enthusiasm.

Apart from that there weren't many complaints. Luna was to stay with Ginny and Draco with Blaise, both of them being as grateful as one could be about the arrangement, for they both thought they were going to be lodged with Harry or Ron and couldn't quite yet believe their luck.

'I don't think I could get any sleep, knowing that there's three Slytherins and former Death Eaters under the same roof as us,' said Ron as he got under the blanket.

Three minutes later he was snoring.

Harry reasoned that he could put off his thoughts for some other time and get some sleep. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.

It was the second time they were all reunited in the kitchen. It seemed that living in the same house as the Slytherins brought many changes and not only the nasty sort.

Harry and Ron, wanting to prove they were traditionalists, turned up last for breakfast, as it was to be expected.

Harry risked a glance around. Nothing looked different from what he imagined.

None of them looked as if they got any sleep the previous night, except for Ron who looked drowsy just out of principle.

Regardless the lack of sleep, the three Slytherins looked both presentable and stylish at the same time, while their fellow mates were keen to amplify drowsiness, as if they wanted to prove the higher forces the sacrifices they made in accepting the trio. This involved severe scruffiness and, to some extent, a polite hint that Slytherins do not blend among them.

Ginny wore his Chudley Cannons T-shirt, which she so bluntly forgot to return, a pair of baggy shorts, and woolly socks. She still looked endearing, but, if there was any fashion prize to be offered, she was definitely not the one to win it.

Hermione still wore her striped pajama trousers, a scarlet top and a hand-me-down shirt with an unknown origin – his or Ron's; no one could really state their opinion on the matter. She stretched, then caught her hair in a messy bun. It was, if possible, even messier in the mornings, and she desperately tried to put that out of sight.

Then there was Luna, nose inches away from the Quibbler, as always, a green dressing gown over her tousled nightshirt, and Tonks, who was by far the most fit to be seen, clad in tartan trousers and a black top with t "Unhinged!" inscription on her chest.

Then again, there were him and Ron who…well, there was no need to elaborate on the matter. Let's just say grubby was a compliment, and then, on the other hand, you had perfectly poised Slytherins. How was that possible?

You had Malfoy, not a single hair out of place in spite of the purple marks under his eyes, dressed in a midnight black robe, trimmed with emerald edges. And then, furthermore, you had yawning Zabini, flawlessly clad in a burgundy tunic over his gray shirt and trousers. And, in the end, Pansy, a perfect embodiment of the latest when it came to wizard fashion collection, a knee-long lavender gown darned on silvery brocade.

They both took some seats, unfortunately for the safety of everyone, the empty ones being right next to of Malfoy.

Harry threw him a sympathetic look. Having had a proper night's sleep to ponder things over, he realized it wasn't an exact piece of cake for one to do what Malfoy did. They weren't supposed to throw rocks at him, now he finally did something right.

I mean, he thought, I should have bloody seen it before, instead of shouting like mad at the poor sod. He looks practically dead - unless he's using really powerful make-up, which he's not. He never in his life cared so little about his appearance. He hadn't had a haircut since… when? A month, two, who could tell? His hair grew so much, he could catch it in a ponytail. He had caught it in a ponytail, for crying out loud, and that sure said a lot about his state of mind.

He considered stating that loud and clear, but that would only be greeted with "cut the crap, Potter!" from the Slytherins, and sure extinction from the other side. He settled for the stare in to your plate blankly kind of silence instead.

Ron threw Draco a look too, the only difference being that he opened his mouth to speak. And, as it was to be expected, his words caused a sudden drift in the heavy silence, even Tonks and all her multiple variety of funny faces couldn't break.

'Why the sudden rush for black, Malfoy? Mourning, are you? I think we're the only ones entitled to do so –you being among us and all, I see it only fit.'

'I think black is the best color there is,' Draco said, overlooking Ron's last sentence.

'Well sure it is,' he fired back, with a mocking tone of voice. 'Matches you state of mind. Or, come to think of it, your –'

'Ron, stop it!' Hermione appeared to have finished the work on the hair. It looked disheveled, to say the least.

'What did I say?' Ron shrugged.

'Argh! You're such a child sometimes.'

'No need to pick on Ron like that, Hermione. He really is a good person at heart,' Harry remembered his loyalties, in spite of all new happenings.

'But then again, who isn't?' Ginny joined in.

'Presumably Voldemort.' Draco eyed his sandwich suspiciously and then gave it a prod, just to make sure it didn't wobble or anything.

'We are talking of normal, not Dark Lords or maniacal killers type of people, but I have to admit you're right,' Ginny said. 'Anyway it was only a quote form –'

'Yes, I know,' Draco interrupted.

Ginny raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

'I have this quirk for quotes lately,' he explained. 'As it goes: "I know heaps of quotations, so I can always make quite a fair show of knowledge."

'And that was O. Douglas.'

'I'm not the only one in awe of quotes, it appears,' Draco smirked.

'If one would've told me I'd be sitting at the same table as Draco Malfoy and discussing quotes, I would have said they're raging mad. But well, it has been a year of a great deal many firsts. Old ends, new beginnings, as they use to say.' She took a sip of coffee.

And so a Conversation began. It didn't have philosophy and literarature themes as main topics, more like lines along the "pass me the salt, please" ones, but, for people who tried the Ogle of Death on each other as way of entertainment, it was certainly an improvement.

Always trust Ron to try and spoil everything, only to succeed in making it all work out, Ginny told herself with a grin.

He, on the other hand, looked positively murderous. If anger were palpable, it would have swarmed around him,large and deep crimson, perhaps even accompanied by the traditional small storm cloud.

The meal draw to an end and Tonks, considerate as ever, attempted clearing the table. Only Hermione had something else in mind.

'It's all right, Tonks, me and Ronald here –' she accentuated his name only to make him turn back from the doorframe – the spot he managed to reach just to escape washing the dishes. '- are going to clean everything up. Isn't that right, Ronnie, dear?'

He gulped and threw her an imploring look. But he was already done for, and he knew it.

When Hermione bore that expression on her face something bad was about to happen. And the extra detail: it'd happen to you, not her.

'Yes but he's helpless at cleaning things up,' Ginny pointed out.

'Oh, he's helpless at a great deal many things. In fact, too many. We are just going to spend this time trying to fix that.'

Draco had already left, being summoned by Lupin to discuss some matters.

He was shortly followed by Blaise and Pansy who departed the kitchen in the hasty pace of one who escaped death by inches. Dishwashing? Surely no one would expect them to do that. That was house elves' job, but one can never be too certain, so it was better to be on the safe side and as far away from the kitchen as one could.

Tonks winked at Hermione and motioned a yawning Luna out.

Ginny lingered a little longer only to pick the biggest apple on the table then, eventually, she departed too. Harry couldn't make an inconspicuous exit like the others, though, being suddenly brought to a halt by a pissed Hermione.

'You know, I was really hoping you'd skip me from your list.'

'It's not Schindler's list we're talking of, you know. And either way, I just wanted you to listen to what I'm saying. The one who all the stuff I'm saying is directed at, is Ron here.'

A tall lanky figure appeared at the bottom of the stairs and approached the door. It was slightly ajar. He wanted to knock, but reconsidered and only peered inside, through the small crack.

'I want to talk to you about Draco.' Hermione turned to look at Ron square in the eye.

And from behind the wooden door, Draco's eyes grew wide.

'Oh, so I see it's Draco now. And since when are you best buddies with him? Last time I remembered, he used to call you a mudblood and we used to jinx him. What happened with all of that?'

'Come off it, Ron! You heard Lupin, we're supposed to accept him, not to jump at his neck all the time.'

'Yep, precisely what I'm doing. No one mentioned being nice to the git.'

'Well, accepting someone implies not throwing him deadly insults all the time.'

'Really? And I who thought it only meant not putting him under the Cruciatus curse each time we see each other.'

'Ron! You're being even more unreasonable than you were in the forth year!'

'Wha…? What did I do in the fourth year?'

'I am not discussing that again.'

'But, Hermione, come on!'

Draco backed away slowly and headed for his room. He didn't want people to think he was eavesdropping and even more, catch him doing it.

And he still couldn't quite believe someone was on his side, apart from Lupin and that Tonks woman. And to think it was the mudblood…he felt slightly out of place, even if he knew she didn't stand up for him out of her own free will. She didn't listen to the spite and resent one would naturally feel towards him, but to…duty?

"The Professor told them it was right?"…Who could ever think like that? No one he knew, especially not himself. Not, that it wasn't reassuring having someone on his side, but Draco Malfoy really wished the mysteries of the universe, and especially those of Gryffindor reasoning were unraveled to him.

He went back to his room, hoping he could, at least there, find a dram of peace to hearten him for the long inevitable explaining bit to follow.

He had already postponed it more than enough. He had to face it, sooner or later and, even if his philosophy in life had always been the later – the better, he felt this time it was the other way round. It was bound to happen now.

That's why it was inevitable.