Chapter Eighteen: Call It What You Want
As far as Hallowe'en went, Harry had to admit that his sixth one at Hogwarts wasn't the worst. It wasn't the best either, which was mainly because of Hermione. As much as he wanted to enjoy every moment of now being with her again; he couldn't help worrying over the reasons they were now together. Sure, she opened up to him about what was going on inside of her, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking about the fact that their reunion came about from a crisis.
Fortunately or unfortunately, he wasn't given much time to dwell on it because the next day emerged from some other kind of hell, courtesy of one Severus Snape.
Harry supposed it was naive to think that the man had matured in whatever way, but he was wrong. He suspected that the Head of Slytherin just wanted to tire them out so that Gryffindor wouldn't perform as well during the first match of the Quidditch season. Though, that idea fell flat when Harry was forced to consider that even the Slytherins were involved in this torture.
"I don't get it," Neville said, throwing himself down onto the chair opposite Harry's.
Around the library, several heads looked up at the sound and the Hufflepuff ducked his head in embarrassment. He wasn't one to enjoy being the centre of attention and this moment was no different, despite his annoyance at their Defence professor.
"What don't you get?" Harry asked him, absently turning the page of the textbook he was reading.
"I don't get why Professor Snape's just decided that he wants to hold war games all of a sudden," he said. "Is he trying to kill us?"
Harry shrugged. "I suspect it's just the opposite."
"Huh?"
Harry shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly. He even dropped the volume of his voice. "Snape let in people who scored 'Exceeds Expectations' to his Defence class, but he wouldn't have done that if he were still teaching Potions. Why?"
Neville took a moment to think about it. "Probably because the only people he'd have in his class if he'd accepted only 'Outstanding' would be you and Jack."
Harry let out an unexpected laugh, Neville's explanation catching him off guard.
"I'm just saying."
He shook his head. "I'm trying to say that he's probably trying to prepare us. Defence is more important than Potions, when it comes to going into battle. I think he realised that."
"Do you really believe that?"
Harry's features turned sympathetic. "It's not that bad," he said kindly.
"I'm going to die," he said. "Like, seriously. If I have to go up against you, Hermione and Jack in the same team, then I'm definitely going to die."
Harry let out a laugh. "At least you don't have Malfoy on your team. The way he's going these days, I'm convinced he's going to end up hexing us in the back."
"What do you mean?"
Harry opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut when he spotted Hermione, Fay, Dean and Jack headed in their direction. They were all part of Team One with Harry for the war games that Professor Snape told them about the day after Hallowe'en, shocking them all. He probably got so much satisfaction out of seeing them scramble.
Neville followed Harry's line of sight and visibly deflated. "I should go," he said, standing up. "See you at dinner?"
"Later," he said, throwing his friend a reassuring smile and a quick double thumbs-up.
Neville sighed heavily, before he started on his way away from the table. He mumbled a greeting to the approaching group and then disappeared from the library like it insulted him in some way. Before Harry could even wonder about what was really eating his friend, he was face-to-face with a group of Gryffindors, all of them looking particularly calm, given what they were about to walk into.
"Hey," Hermione said, smiling at him.
"Hey back," he replied, standing up. "What's up?"
Hermione glanced behind her at Jack. "Jack thinks that the Gryffindors should have a game plan before we go into the team meeting later."
Harry nodded in agreement. "Makes sense." He looked around for a table large enough to accommodate them all. He did not want them sitting at his table. "Over there?" he suggested, gesturing to a set of tables to his right.
There was collective nodding as they shifted towards the empty desks, each of them taking a seat. Hermione sat right next to Harry and pulled out a notebook and pen. Always prepared, that one.
"Not only are we going to have to go up against the other team," Hermione said; "but we actually have to survive our own first."
More nodding.
Hermione looked at Jack, expecting him to say something and, of course, he didn't disappoint.
"I think, for there to be as little conflict as possible, I shouldn't be Captain of the team," he said slowly. "And neither should Malfoy."
"Or me," Harry added.
Jack looked thoughtful. "It'll come to a vote in the end," he said. "We have five Gryffindors in our team so we should be able to win in the vote if we pick one person we'll all vote for right now." He gave Harry a significant look before he turned his attention to Hermione. "And I think the person we should pick is you, Hermione."
The witch looked surprised. "What?"
"Well, it's not going to be me," Dean said.
"And definitely not me," Fay added. "So it has to be you."
"So I'm a default captain?"
"No!" Jack and Harry said in unison.
"It's not that," Harry was quick to add. "Believe me, you would be my first choice."
Dean rolled his eyes in amusement. "Seriously? Get a room."
Hermione blushed at the same time that Harry punched Dean's arm; which were both actions that drew Jack's attention. Wait. What? Since when?
"Getting back on track," Hermione said, clearing her throat. "Do you really expect me to be able to keep three Slytherins in check?" she asked.
"If you can handle Jack and Ron; you can handle anyone," Dean said, only half-joking.
Jack and Hermione exchanged a significant look, even as everyone else laughed. Harry's own smile was forced and he reached for Hermione's hand under the table, squeezing tightly. He was convinced that she needed it, but it was really him who needed it. He was a hand-holder; Hermione knew that. It was one of the things she adored most about him.
She squeezed his fingers tight in return, acknowledging the contact without looking at him. "Okay," she said.
"Then it's decided," Jack said, sounding oddly relieved.
Harry glanced at his watch. "We should probably get going," he said. "Don't want to be accused of thinking we're better than being on time."
Snape was the one to schedule each team's initial meeting. It cut into Gryffindor's Quidditch practice - which was probably on purpose - so Jack and Harry were forced to cancel. It wasn't the biggest train-smash, given that they were already training every single day in preparation for their first match against Slytherin.
Harry made quick work of packing up his things, and then the five of them were headed to the empty and charmed classroom Snape reserved for Team One. It was on the third floor, dangerously close to where Fluffy once resided.
Hermione glanced at the door nervously and Jack visibly shuddered. He liked to think that he'd moved on from his first meeting with Voldemort but it all just added up, didn't it? He'd never really dealt with it all because he'd never really been allowed to. Voldemort was incredibly rude that way.
Dean turned right and led them down another corridor towards their destination. They were early, the first group to arrive, which allowed them to make a sweep of the room. Jack was paranoid and Harry was cautious. Hermione just let them be. Snape might have tried something, but the Slytherins might have also been by earlier to set up their own traps or something.
It was bound to be a difficult evening.
But.
Truthfully, Harry expected a fight. It just made sense that the Slytherins would fight them at every turn but they received nothing. Malfoy didn't even make a snide remark about Hermione's blood status, which was something that really didn't sit well with him or with Jack. It was practically Malfoy's go-to insult.
Dean was the one to bring up the captaincy and all three Slytherins just, well, rolled with it. In the end, the vote wasn't even necessary. The Gryffindors exchanged significant looks with one another but they weren't going to question a good thing. Maybe Snape threatened them into cooperating or something equally spectacular.
The meeting consisted mainly of admin. Hermione had them sit down and discuss schedules, possible practice times and any battle strategies they wanted to tackle. Jack would have mentioned that he could ask his father for some pointers but that would actually require him to be speaking to James Potter and that hadn't happened in a while. If anything, he wasn't sure why he wasn't talking to his father... well, other than the fact that the man was being a tool to his mother.
Harry had no such qualms and insisted that Sirius would be able to help.
Malfoy said nothing.
They managed to come to consensus that, given the number of team members involved in the upcoming Quidditch match; they would start the practical training only after the match. Harry would have kissed Hermione right there and then but he managed to stay rooted to his spot. The girl thought of everything and his sudden urge to reveal everything to her was starting to get out of control.
He loved her.
He was so desperately in love with her.
Hermione made a point to note down what each member believed was their greatest strength, so she could best organize for appropriate training. It was very clear from that first meeting that Hermione Granger was taking her role very seriously. She wanted to win as much as the next person did and, with a team full of competitive people, they were bound to pull their weight.
Surely.
Despite the Slytherins' relative silence, there were still a few squabbles, particularly when it came to deciding what was each member's greatest strength. Hermione knew that both Harry and Jack could have fit into any of the categories but she made an executive decision and eventually came out with a list with which she was pleased. She ended up with four different sub-teams, each with three members, which she hoped would make scheduling training sessions that bit easier.
.
TEAM ONE
1. Blaise Zabini (Slytherin) - Stealth
2. Daphne Greengrass (Slytherin) - Strategy
3. Dean Thomas (Gryffindor) - Coordination/Speed
4. Draco Malfoy (Slytherin) - Attack/Defense
5. Ernest Macmillan (Hufflepuff) - Coordination/Speed
6. Fay Dunbar (Gryffindor) - Stealth
7. Harry Potter (Gryffindor) - Attack/Defense
8. Hermione Granger (Gryffindor) - Strategy
9. Jack Potter (Gryffindor) - Attack/Defense
10. Justin Finch-Fletchley (Hufflepuff) - Coordination/Speed
11. Kevin Entwhistle (Ravenclaw) - Strategy
12. Lisa Turpin (Ravenclaw) - Stealth
.
When Hermione eventually dismissed them, a few of them stayed behind to chat. Admittedly, Harry felt a little uncomfortable at first. It was one thing for him not to be accepted by his own House, but the other Houses hadn't been all that welcoming either, save for his two best friends. It was amazing what a little popularity could do to one's social standing.
Kevin was absently complaining about the timing of these war games, and Harry had half a mind to tell him to keep it down just in case Snape was listening somehow. Was Jack's paranoia rubbing off on him?
Justin let out a long breath. "I don't know how he expects us to come up with an entire battle plan by the end of the month," he said. "It's going to be difficult enough to find time for everyone to meet, let alone actually get work done."
"I think Hermione will come up with a suitable schedule," Fay said, and Harry could hear the obvious pride in her tone. No wonder Hermione liked her.
Harry made a note to get to know her better.
Fay looked at Harry. "Are you looking forward to having to work with Jack and Malfoy?" she asked, looking slightly amused.
Harry couldn't help rolling his eyes, even as he absently nudged Jack in jest. "I think I can handle them," he said, grinning. "I've handled worse. Sirius can be a real dog sometimes." He laughed at his own joke, though the others just looked confused. "Never mind," he murmured, dropping his gaze.
Conversation continued, and Jack took the opportunity to steal away to locate his once best friend. Hermione was standing off to the side, reading through the notes she'd made before, during and after the meeting. When she'd accepted the captaincy, she hadn't anticipated just how invested in their success she would feel. Maybe it was the way that Harry looked at her with wonder and fascination in his eyes that got to her. Who knew?
She definitely didn't.
"So," Jack said, sidling up to and standing closer to her than he had in quite some time. It felt both familiar and foreign to him. So many things had changed in such a short time. "You and Harry, huh?"
The movement of Hermione's hands stuttered for a moment, but she didn't stop sifting through the pages she'd compiled.
Jack pushed on through her silence. "Does he know?"
Hermione didn't dare look at him. Maybe if she ignored him; he would leave her alone.
No such luck.
"Does he know about the kiss?" he asked.
The sound of that forced Hermione to stop what she was doing and look at him. "Excuse me?"
"The kiss, Hermione," he said. "Does Harry know?"
She took a breath. "I don't know, Jack," she said carefully. "Does it look like he knows?"
Jack stood up straight and glanced over his shoulder at where Harry was still standing talking to Kevin, Fay and Dean. "I realise that's a rhetorical question but I'm guessing, no, he doesn't know."
"Would you like a medal or something?"
He turned to face her properly, fighting off a sudden wave of irritation. "Are you going to tell him?"
Hermione swallowed, frowning slightly. If she was being honest; she hadn't given this topic much thought. She's practically forgotten about it. "If I haven't told him by now, do you really think I'm going to?"
Jack took a breath. "Why are you answering all my questions with questions?"
Hermione also turned her body to face him. "Why are you asking all these questions?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
Hermione glared at him, her eyes narrowing. "What do you actually want, Jack?" she asked. "Do you want me to tell him, because what good would that do? I mean, look at him," she said, glancing at Harry. "What do you think telling him now would do to him?"
"But - "
"But what, Jack," she said, sighing. "I managed to forget about it. I managed to push it from my mind, put it behind me, and I don't understand why you're reminding me about it." She shook her head. "Look, I don't really know what you're trying to do right now but I'm guessing that this is probably coming from a place of misplaced guilt, right? You're talking to Harry as if you want to get to know him; as if you're trying to mend fences or build bridges. Am I wrong?"
Jack didn't respond.
"I know you tried to apologise to him, which makes me think that I am right," she continued. "I don't really know what your intentions are but I wish, for both your sakes, that they're good. He's kind and he's so good and pure; and he doesn't deserve anything either of us have ever done to him. So, if you want a relationship with him, then telling him now would only ruin your chances of that ever happening. Is that what you want?"
Jack was still silent.
"Why do you want to hurt him so much?" she asked. "Don't you think you've hurt him enough?"
Jack's own eyes narrowed. "I didn't say I was going to tell him, Hermione," he said slowly, pointedly. "But I think that you should. It should come from you."
Hermione's top lip twitched.
Jack recognised the action as anger, but he didn't dare back down. This was important and he needed to say it. "Secrets very rarely stay secrets in this place, Hermione," he said pointedly. "Whether you like it or not; it's bound to come out at some point. And then what?" And that was all he would say about it, as he spun on his heel and returned to the small group of students that included his brother.
His brother.
Harry's eyes met his when he approached, a steady smile on his face, which slipped the moment that his gaze drifted past him towards Hermione. Then back to Jack. Very quickly, Harry excused himself from the group and moved past Jack towards Hermione.
"Hey," he said, stepping into her line of vision and frowning at the frown on her face. "Everything okay? Did Jack say something to you?"
She blinked. "What? Umm, no." She shook her head, clearly distracted. "Just thinking about something Greengrass said about possible strategy," she said. "Jack was actually rather informative."
"Not usually an adjective used to describe Jack Potter," he murmured, making her smile. "You sure you're okay?"
She nodded. "I think so."
He pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tight for the longest moment.
Hermione couldn't help the sudden wave of guilt that fell over her, which only multiplied when she locked eyes with Jack over Harry's shoulder. He was right of course. Hermione had to tell Harry.
It was just that the kiss - which couldn't really be classified as a kiss - was something that Hermione legitimately managed to forget about until Jack brought it up. Maybe her subconscious mind pushed it into its darkest recesses, hoping to never actively have to think about it again.
But.
Harry squeezed her once before he released her, smiling that lopsided grin that stole the breath straight out of her lungs. "Let's go plot to kill some Slytherins," he said cheekily, and then turned away, blindly reaching for her hand and pulling her along.
Hermione allowed herself to be led, even though she was supposed to be the team captain.
She would tell him. Of course she would.
Just... in her own time.
"It was too easy."
Harry couldn't hold back his yawn as he looked up at his brother, feeling smaller all of a sudden. The Common Room was practically empty for this Sunday afternoon, but that was probably because the sun was blessing them with an extended appearance. Like the rest of the Castle, Harry was fully prepared to enjoy it. He was just waiting for Hermione to descend from her dormitory, so they could go on a 'walk' that would probably double as a 'find-a-quiet-spot-and-make-out.'
Better get the yawns out of the way right now.
Even so, Harry couldn't help finding the number of times Jack initiated conversation just in the last few weeks a little alarming. Harry'd run out of fingers ages ago but he was trying not to read too much into it. He'd only end up disappointed.
Without seeking permission - or approval - Jack plopped himself down on the couch beside Harry, looking particularly distracted by something. "It was just too damn easy," he repeated, shaking his head in the process.
Most of their conversations consisted of Jack muttering things and Harry having to struggle to understand, asking questions that sounded painful even to his own years. "Uh, what was too easy?" he asked anyway, shifting slightly to look at him. He had time to kill anyway.
Jack looked at him. "Catching the Snitch."
Harry frowned. "We beat Slytherin, Jack. Why are you complaining?"
"I'm not complaining," he said defensively. "I just - I don't know. Something didn't feel right." Jack wanted to think that maybe Harry would understand this part, at least. Despite their differences, they had faced off against some dangerous things together. Feelings were generally considered to mean something important in their line of work.
Harry automatically sat up straight, deciding to take Jack seriously. Goodness only knew how many other people actually did at this point. Voldemort was still a sour topic when it came to the Castle as a whole, though Jack wasn't singing about it anymore. After the slander he'd undergone, he'd shut up about it. Perhaps the Order spoke to him, warned him, or instructed him to keep under the radar. Without Voldemort out in the open, there was less panic.
Whatever the reasons were, Harry didn't like it.
"About what?" Harry asked.
"Malfoy."
Harry took a moment to recall the match, trying to figure out if there was any merit in Jack's feeling. If he was being honest, he couldn't really remember much or anything to do with Malfoy, and the match had been the day before. That was odd. Malfoy usually made sure to do something memorable: before, during and after.
"It's not just the match," Jack added. "He's been rather... quiet."
Harry blinked. "Quiet?"
"Subdued," Jack added. "Distracted, like his focus has been elsewhere, on something else... Just, quiet. There's really no other word for it."
"Didn't he and Parkinson just start dating?" Harry offered as a potential explanation.
"It's more than that," he said. "Over the years, he's actively sought me out, to goat me, to boast and gloat. My parents are literally getting divorced and Malfoy says nothing. There's definitely something going on with him. Tell me you haven't noticed."
If Harry really thought about it, he would be forced to admit that some of what Jack was saying did make sense, especially after their first meeting for the war games. "Well," he said; "I did find it odd that Malfoy didn't come and find me on the Hogwarts' Express at the beginning of the year. He usually pays me a visit, like clockwork."
Jack nodded in agreement. "Exactly," he said, just glad that Harry wasn't telling him he was paranoid. Ron had, and he imagined that others would as well. Like, he was looking for trouble just because it hadn't yet found him.
"Though, that could be for any number of reasons," Harry said, dashing Jack's hopes. "Are you suggesting that Malfoy is... quiet, because of something sinister?"
Jack was hesitant to nod. It really could just be that he was seeing something that wasn't there, given that they had survived an entire school year without coming face-to-face with Voldemort. He'd also considered that the emotional trauma of his parents' impending divorce and his current friendship situation could be manifesting in different ways.
But no. He was sure about this.
"I think that if we're old enough to join the Order, then Malfoy is definitely old enough to become a Death Eater."
Harry leaned back. "They're letting you join the Order?" he asked, clearly surprised. Sure, he'd discussed possibly helping with the resistance with his mother, but there was no mention of becoming a member of the Order.
Of which James was a part.
Well, even his mother wasn't an active member of the Order, though Sirius more than made up for her lack of active participation. Was that the reason? He couldn't join because she wasn't a member?
"Not exactly," Jack said, dropping his gaze. "Ideally, they'd like to wait until I'm done with school or turn seventeen first, but I think they have the sneaking suspicion that Voldemort won't wait that long."
"How inconsiderate of him," Harry muttered good-naturedly.
Jack smiled in amusement.
"Look, I'm not saying that there's nothing to be seen," Harry assured him; "I just think that the explanation could be something innocuous and it wouldn't do to go stirring up attention when it could be something perfectly easy to explain."
Jack nodded in agreement, accepting Harry's explanation. "Like what?"
"Malfoy Senior could have let rip into him enough to leave emotional scarring even months later," Harry suggested.
"Completely plausible," Jack agreed, thinking about his own father. "We'll have to do some research to be sure."
Harry frowned. "We?"
Jack seemed to catch himself. "I mean, we, as in me and, uh, Ron," he stumbled through, flushing brilliantly. "Well, when he's not attached to Emily's lips, that is."
Harry let out a laugh, saving them from their - well, Jack's - fumble. "Now, that was unexpected," he said. "And right in front of everyone like that. I prefer private moments myself. It's why me and - " he stopped suddenly.
Jack just about managed a smile, fighting off the sudden feeling of being left out. Harry had Hermione and now Ron had Emily, though he was still surprised by the lack of jealousy. It was the misplaced guilt that Hermione suggested that was knocking him down. "Don't forget," he said, somewhat cheekily. "Talk of Granger is off limits."
Harry breathed out, feeling a little lost. "Uh, yeah."
Jack's eyes drifted away from him, tensing as if he'd been caught doing something wrong. "Speaking of."
"Hmm?"
Jack jerked his head to the side, and Harry's gaze followed the movement until they settled on one Hermione Jean Granger. She was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking equal parts curious and apprehensive. It was an expression she was wearing lately, particularly when it came to him and Jack.
Still, Harry automatically smiled at the sight of her as he was wont to do whenever he laid eyes on her.
Truthfully, he'd been worried the night before. After Emily made it onto the team, it was only expected that general romantic interest in her would grow. Her spectacular showing during the match against Slytherin just multiplied that, exponentially and dramatically. If anyone would have asked Harry, he definitely wouldn't have put Ronald Weasley on that particular list of potential suitors. But, alas, Gryffindor's newest couple - at least, Harry thought they were now a couple - was now the talk of the Tower. The Castle.
He'd braved asking her about it after the spectacle that was Ron and Emily's first kiss in the Common Room, but she seemed perfectly fine. In fact, she informed him that she was more than fine, stating that if Ron could feel even half of the happiness she was feeling with Harry in that moment, then Ron was a lucky guy. It made him blush, but not nearly as much as he did when her mouth did other things than talk for the next breathless hour, as if she were intent on proving her very words to him.
"Oh, the questions you shall face," Jack practically sang as he stood up, bringing Harry back to the present. "Good luck, Potter," he called over his shoulder, and then he walked away, leaving the couple alone.
Harry was rooted to the spot. Did Jack - did he just call him 'Potter?'
It took a moment for Hermione to move to take the spot Jack just vacated, scooting in closer than her ex-best friend. Harry looked a little shell-shocked but she was buoyed by his colouring. Those cheeks were still a normal shade of pink as opposed to the sickly pale he was wont to sporting from time to time when his body just couldn't compute what was happening around him.
As Jack predicted, Hermione had a ton of questions for Harry, which he tried his best to answer as they finally did take their walk that actually turned out to be just a walk. He told her of Jack's worries about Malfoy and mentioned his own observations. She told him that Malfoy did also seem subdued in their Prefects' meetings, though that could be because of something unrelated to Voldemort.
They'd have to keep a closer eye on him during their Team One training.
"I'm thinking maybe it's because of his father," Harry said, tugging lightly on her hand to bring her closer into his side. "That man really is a nasty piece of work."
Hermione slowed her pace, visibly thinking.
"What is it?" he asked, his gaze drifting from the school grounds to her face. She was much more beautiful anyway. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong," she said. "It's just - I don't know, I was just thinking about all the people I actually know in this place."
"Yeah?"
"The only ones who come from an active, loving home with both parents are probably the Weasleys."
He took a moment to think about it. Even Dean had problems living up to expectations in his Muggle household, and Seamus' mixed parentage made it difficult for him as well, though the boy seemed happy enough. Still. It was something to think about.
At his silence, Hermione burrowed into his side that bit more, soaking up the warmth of him. "How sad is that?"
The very next Seeker practice for Jack and Harry included an in-depth discussion on none other than Draco Malfoy himself, particularly after their first sub-team training with just the three of them. Apparently, Granger was a no for conversation but Malfoy was a definite yes.
As he said he would, Jack had tried to keep an eye on Malfoy, following him when he could and keeping tabs on him using the Marauder's Map that he sometimes looked embarrassed to mention to Harry, now that they weren't actively trying to kill each other. The younger brother sometimes wanted to tell Jack about the Mosstroopers' Map, but he reasoned that would be revealing too much.
Also, he first had to discuss it with his fellow Mosstroopers.
"Ron and I are going to follow him tonight," Jack said, landing his broom on the grass of the Quidditch pitch rather expertly.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Tonight?"
Jack blinked, suddenly worried that he was missing something important. It'd been known to happen, given his magnetism to detentions and the Infirmary. But he was definitely doing better this year. "What? What?"
Harry laughed out loud, touching down as well. He dismounted with practiced ease and held his broom upright. "Well, it's my understanding that tonight is one of the Slug Club's most auspicious get-togethers."
Jack slapped his forehead with his palm. "That's tonight?"
"Somehow, you've managed to miss the last two dinners, but Professor Slughorn personally checked your schedule," he said. "I'm convinced he'll come and find you himself if you don't show up tonight."
Jack let out a defeated sigh. "I guess I can't exactly miss another one," he said. "Dumbledore kind of asked me to - " he stopped suddenly, dropping his gaze. "Never mind. Just, I should probably go tonight."
Harry just nodded, choosing not to question him.
Jack ran a hand through his damp hair, moving them along. "Who's in this Slug Club again?" he asked as he started them walking towards the broom shed. "Besides you, of course." Then: "Why are you in the Club?"
Harry glared at him.
"No offence," he added quickly, cringing slightly. "I'm just asking, you know. Out of interest's sake."
Harry huffed. "I'd like to say it's because I'm second in our year, but it's probably more to do with the fact that I'm your brother, and my mum is Lily Evans."
"And I'm in it because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived?"
Harry smirked. "Well, it's definitely not because of your grades."
Jack faked a laugh and attempted to trip Harry with his broom, which the boy just hopped over. "Aren't you a comedian?"
"I try," he said smugly, before jogging the last few metres to drop off his broom in the shed. It wasn't lost on him that Jack set his broom down right next to his. They were actually the same broom, just different models.
Jack was the reason that Harry's broom was a newer one.
"Who else?" Jack asked.
"Uh," Harry stuttered, trying to remember. "Granger."
Jack merely nodded. "As expected."
"Zabini's in it because of his mother."
"She's a frightening woman."
"Um, there's McLaggen," he said, trying and failing to keep the spite out of his voice.
Jack looked at him. "Whoa, what happened there?"
"We've had words," he forced out through gritted teeth.
"About?"
"Quidditch, I guess."
Jack shrugged. "Just ignore him," he said. "I do."
"If he's anything like you; ignoring him will amount to nothing," Harry said, which shut them both up for a long minute. Harry was the first to grow uncomfortable with the silence, which prompted him to resume conversation as they reached the Castle. "So, uh, there's also Flora and Hestia Carrow, but I sure as hell don't know why they're there."
"Why is McLaggen?"
"His uncle is supposedly connected to the Ministry or something along those lines," he answered with a shrug. "There's also Melinda Bobbins. Apparently, her family owns a chain of apothecaries."
"Quite the collection he's got for himself," Jack commented somewhat darkly.
"I'm not done," Harry said. "There's also Luna, who he just seems to find fascinating, though there are probably elements of the Quibbler in there as well. And there's - " he paused.
Jack looked at him. "Who?"
"Well, there's Ginny."
Jack actually missed a step at the sound of her name and he stumbled slightly, a blush taking over his face. "Ginny," he echoed. "Is she even allowed to be in it, seeing as you are?" he asked, recovering.
"The protection order doesn't cover legitimate school functions," he said carefully. "Dumbledore signed off on the Slug Club's dinners being legitimate." He ran a hand through his hair. "She doesn't talk, so it doesn't bother me as much as it should."
"She doesn't talk to you, you mean?"
He shook his head. "No, I mean, she doesn't talk. At all. To anyone. Not really. Only when Slughorn asks her a direct question."
Jack frowned. "But - " Then: "Why is she in the Club then?"
"Granger tells me it's because she's supposed to be popular, and she caught Slughorn's attention when she cast a Bat-Bogey Hex. It's quite impressive, really."
"I know," Jack said, his voice low. "I taught her how. Last year, when we were still, you know... I taught her how to cast it."
"You taught her?" Harry asked, needing clarification.
He nodded sheepishly. "I was worried."
"About?"
"About what would happen to her if Voldemort ever decided to use her against me," he said. "I worried about Ron and Hermione and Olivia. I still worry about them. All the time, actually."
Harry dropped his gaze. "And I guess Malfoy acting like a creeper doesn't really help?"
"No, it doesn't."
"At least we can keep an eye on him through our training for the games," he said, trying to ease the frown on his brother's face. "Though I'm not really looking forward to being in a confined space with him again on Thursday. Our first group meeting was tough enough."
Jack shook his head. "It's not enough."
Harry could hear something in his voice. "You're really worried, aren't you?"
"I'm more concerned that you're not," he said.
"What makes you think that I'm not worried?" he asked. "I'm just doing a better job of not obsessing over it."
Jack's eyes snapped towards him. "Do you think I'm obsessing?"
Harry's features softened. He didn't think he had a right to judge. It had to be difficult being the one person that a crazy Dark Lord was after. "Not exactly," he said. "All I know is that whatever Malfoy's up to; it's not happening tonight."
"How can you be so sure of that?"
"If it were, he would have acted like a pompous ass the entire day."
Jack had to concede to that.
"And plus, I kind of have other things to obsess about at the moment," Harry admitted, braving bringing up his girlfriend and Jack's ex-best friend. It was a testament to how comfortable he now felt with Jack that he would even consider trying it.
Jack nodded in understanding, fighting off that guilty feeling once more. For what felt like the hundredth time in just the last few days; he was hit by the urge to tell Harry about the kiss that should never have been.
Looking back at it, he now knew why he'd done it. It hadn't been about feelings he had towards Hermione. It'd been about his fear of losing her. It had made him act irrationally; made him do things that eventually resulted in the end of his relationship with her. In his attempts to hold on for dear life; he'd ended up getting the one thing he was so terrified of: a life without Hermione Granger.
Harry looked happy. So did Hermione.
It should be enough.
It should.
Jack continued to wrestle with the conflicting ideas as he begrudgingly got ready for this dinner that he didn't even want to go to. It was just, well, he didn't think he could be happy if he didn't tell Harry. Was it selfish of him? If their roles were reversed, would he want to know? Would he want to know that his brother had kissed his girlfriend? It was all just a mess.
And whatever he decided to do would only make it messier.
"Is that really what you're wearing?"
Jack looked up from his brooding to spy Harry just walking into the dormitory, freshly showered and dressed with his toiletry bag held against his chest. Jack looked down at his own clothing, frowning at his slacks and grey shirt. "What's wrong with this?" he asked.
Harry tilted his head to the side. "You're clearly not trying to impress anyone, are you?"
Jack let out a surprised laugh. "No, I'm not."
"Are you trying to turn them off then?"
"Shut up," he quipped.
Harry just laughed as he moved towards his bed, a certain spring in his step. Jack smiled for just a moment, before it slipped off his face. There was a spring in his step that Jack had the power to take away.
Or enhance.
The truth could be enlightening, for all he knew, but was Jack willing to risk it?
Once Harry stored his things, he bid Jack goodbye and headed downstairs to the Common Room to wait for Hermione. He checked his watch as he searched for a spot to give him the clearest view of the girls' staircase for when his beautiful girlfriend eventually emerged. As punctual as she usually was; there was a side to her that liked to take her time when getting ready for social gatherings.
He was continually forced to remind her that this wasn't a date, and she always had to remind him that she was hoping to make connections. If Slughorn was going to use them, then she had the intention of using him back. She could be a devious little mastermind when she wanted to be. It was one of the reasons that she was the perfect captain for their team.
A team that he was sure would end up killing each other before they ever made it to the actual battle.
Hermione tried her best to ease the transition by dividing them into their four sub-teams, but their first meetings hadn't exactly gone to plan. Harry, Jack and Malfoy were always going to make for a tense situation. They'd barely got anything done and, from what Harry heard from the other teams, their meetings hadn't fared that much better. Which was something that Harry found odd.
Hermione reasoned that it was probably best to train all together, just all of them in one room, even if they stayed in their various groups. Just to keep an eye on one another so nobody really felt the need to act up. She then proceeded to mutter something about them acting like children, which had Harry and Luna snickering like the children they really were.
"Stop frowning," Hermione said, forcing Harry to look up. "I'm not even that late."
Harry automatically smiled as he stood up. She wasn't even a little late but the punctuality in both of them did make it feel later than normal. "I didn't even say anything."
"You didn't have to."
He looked her up and down as she approached. "Hey, you," he said, reaching out for her. "You look pretty."
She blushed as if on command and stepped into his embrace. "It's not too much, is it?" she asked, her voice muffled by his jacket. "Luna enjoys dressing me up a little too much sometimes."
"I'm definitely not complaining."
She giggled softly and released him so she could look at his face. He really was very handsome. "You cleaned up quite nicely yourself," she told him, fighting off one of those niggling feelings that she didn't deserve him.
He puffed out his chest and lifted his chin. "I did, didn't I?"
Hermione couldn't resist kissing him, her left hand automatically lifting to run through his hair, holding him to her; not wanting him to drift away. She needed him close; she needed him here.
Despite her intentions, Harry pulled away first. "Hmm," he murmured; "what did I do to deserve that?"
"Nothing," she told him. "Just, you know, thank you."
"For what?"
"For being you."
He kissed her once more before they started on their way towards Slughorn's office for the third Slug Club dinner of the term. He held her hand in his, their fingers entwined in the way that made Harry believe their hands were built to hold each other.
"Who do you think Professor Slughorn invited to tonight's dinner?" Hermione asked him.
"I remember him mentioning a Potions Master, but I'm not too sure," he replied. "Could be anyone."
"I hope it isn't just anyone," she said.
Harry squeezed her fingers. "I do know that Jack is coming, which means that Slughorn is going to be particularly much tonight."
Hermione glanced at him. "He is?"
"Last time I checked, yes," he said. "Though, he might yet skip out, seeing as he's on a mission to find out what's up with Malfoy."
Hermione looked thoughtful. "And tonight would be the night for him to try something, given that the lot of us are going to be disposed," she told him. "Unless - "
"Unless what?"
"Unless he has Ron on it."
He nodded in agreement. "Perhaps." Then: "It really seems to be worrying him."
"Then maybe this dinner will be a welcome distraction," she offered, which really just made Harry give her a significant look. A beat later, they both burst out laughing. "Never mind," she said through her laughter.
Professor Slughorn was already in quite a state when the young couple arrived, which was his normal state of being so neither Gryffindor was worried. In fact, they were both rather amused.
"Evening, Professor," Hermione said, smiling at him.
"Oh, Miss Granger," Slughorn said, stilling his movements and looking particularly frazzled. "And Mr Potter. Please, come sit. Make yourself comfortable. The others should be here shortly."
Hermione would have offered to help but Slughorn took off again and Luna arrived to distract Harry.
"Come on," Luna said, tugging on his hand. "I have to tell you something."
"About?"
"You have to be sitting down for it," she said, and he willingly followed her towards the large, round table. She pulled him down into the seat next to her, and Hermione moved to sit on his other side.
"Do I get to hear it too?" Hermione asked Luna.
"Of course," the blonde witch said. "Harry's bound to tell you eventually. You two tell each other everything."
Harry grinned at the same time that Hermione dropped her gaze, her face falling. It was a good thing that Harry wasn't looking at her, though Luna definitely was, which was something she filed away for another time.
Luna was talking to Harry right now anyway. "So, I may or may not have done a thing," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "To McLaggen."
Harry perked up, his eyes widening. "What did you do, oh dear deviant one?"
"Well, when you mentioned he was giving you a problem about his not making the Quidditch team, I had an idea," she continued, her eyes practically twinkling. "He really loves the way he looks, doesn't he?"
"Miss Lovegood, what did you do?"
"I may or may not have altered the way he looks," she said. "Colourful hair, colourful eyes... I even got his eyebrows." She grinned at him. "But, the best part is that he can't even tell. When he looks in the mirror, he just looks normal."
Harry let out an unexpected laugh. "Are you serious?" he asked, his eyes widening.
She nodded. "Do you love me or what?"
"Or what," he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. "You are definitely my favourite witch in Ravenclaw right now."
She raised her eyebrows. "Right now?"
He shrugged. "I don't know; Lisa's kind of growing on me."
Luna was about to respond when there was a collective gasp heard, making their heads turn towards where McLaggen was just entering.
"Oh boy," Hermione murmured, hiding her giggle behind her hand.
But her reaction was nothing compared to Slughorn's, who practically tripped over himself at the sight of Cormac McLaggen. If he'd actually been holding the tray of drinks he had suspended with his wand, it probably would have hit the deck.
"Mr McLaggen," Slughorn said; "what in heaven's name happened to you?"
"Excuse me, Sir?"
The snickering only increased, and Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from bursting out laughing.
Slughorn reasoned that the boy must know what he looked like if he seemed so calm about it, so he let it be. Children should be allowed to express themselves, surely. Though, he suspected there was something written in the school rules about a student's exterior appearance when in uniform. And McLaggen was not in his uniform right now.
"Please, have a seat," Slughorn said, shaking his head. "Our guest should be arriving shortly."
Instead of the supposed guest they were expecting, the door was next opened by Jack Potter, his entrance silencing the small group, McLaggen temporarily forgotten. Jack looked around, suddenly feeling out of place and decidedly awkward. He hated these kinds of things, and it was clear to see from his facial expression.
Taking pity on him, Harry stood up. "Jack," he said. "Come and sit. We don't bite."
Luna giggled. "Speak for yourself," she said under her breath.
Jack glanced over his shoulder for a brief moment, before he shuffled towards the other side of the table, where Hermione, Harry and Luna were sitting next to one another. He had a quick debate with himself, before settling down next to Luna. He suspected that he'd have a truly silent evening if he were to sit down next to Hermione because he doubted she forgot about the last thing they spoke about.
Jack definitely hadn't, and he doubted he ever would.
"Hello," Luna said, turning her head to look at him. It was a polite greeting, though it was layered with distrust and apprehension. Harry might have blinders on when it came to the brother he wouldn't admit he wanted, but Luna was making sure to see things clearly. She'd missed it before, and she wasn't going to make the same mistake. Jack Potter couldn't be trusted.
"Uh, hi," Jack mumbled, shifting in his seat at her scrutiny. He looked past her at Harry, who was smiling at him in a way that he'd never seen before. Maybe he found Jack's discomfort amusing, and now he'd let loose this little pixie-girl on him.
Maybe he'd take Hermione's silence after all.
Jack looked across the table and his eyes practically bugged out of his head at the sight of McLaggen. "What the - " he sputtered.
Luna followed his gaze. "It's neat, isn't it?"
Before he could reply, Slughorn was speaking. "Oh, there he is," he suddenly said, getting their attention as a small, stout and bespectacled man shuffled into the room. "Students, students, please, allow me to introduce one of my former students and acclaimed author, Eldred Worple."
As if on cue, the students all stood to participate in the formality of greetings and introductions. Worple practically started to salivate when he was introduced to Jack Potter, and the man made sure to seat himself right next to the Boy-Who-Lived. He barely noticed the other students, though he did raise his eyebrows at the sight of a colourful McLaggen.
As host, Slughorn was the last to take his seat after studying the one empty seat at the table with scrutiny.
"Do you think she's not coming?" Hermione whispered to Harry.
"Who?"
"Ginny," she whispered.
Harry had a nasty comment sitting at the tip of his tongue, but he held it. "How would I know, Granger?" he asked pointedly.
She pressed her lips together in thought, irritated with her own worry. Not that she was paying attention or anything, but Ginny hadn't really been herself since that whole debacle with Eddie Carmichael, even though Hermione was sure that the redhead didn't remember much about it. Hermione didn't want to worry, but she couldn't help it. It was part of who she was, and the fact that they were no longer friends didn't change that. Even if she wanted it to.
Ginny didn't end up coming to the dinner, though only Slughorn and Hermione paid any attention to it.
In the end, Eldred Worple spent most of the evening trying to get Jack to agree for him to write his biography. Apparently, the man found the young man very interesting, and Luna had to save him from the probing questions a countless number of times, pretending that she needed to talk to him.
Really, she just kept telling him that she had her eye on him; that she'd personally see to his demise if he so much as laid another hand on Harry Potter. She told him that she'd make it look like an accident; that she was done sitting idly by and letting Harry's nobility dictate the action she would take if her best friend ever got hurt in such a disgraceful way again.
Jack could only marvel at the fire burning in her eyes whenever she spoke about Harry, and he found himself feeling envious... not for the first time lately. For years, he'd believed that Harry wanted his life, but it'd never occurred to him that the roles would ever be so reversed.
Who would've guessed?
By the time Slughorn called an end to the torture, Jack had told Worple he wasn't interested in a biography some fifty times but he had a sneaking suspicion that the man would definitely bring it up again. He just didn't seem to know when to stop. It was probably one of the traits that made him so successful in his job.
"Hey, Luna," Harry said, and both Luna and Jack turned to look at him. "Uh," he murmured, surprised by their mutual attention. "Hermione and I are going to take a walk before curfew - are you going to join us?"
Luna laughed. "Tell me, Harry, do you actually want me to?"
He grinned at her, his blush turning his cheeks pink. "I don't want you to walk alone," he said. "We can drop you off first."
"That's fine," she said. "Jack will walk with me, won't you?" She turned to look at Jack, and he could do was nod. He was sure that she just wanted the opportunity to reaffirm what she'd spewing to him all night: mess with Harry or die. Simple.
Harry looked at Jack. "Would you?"
Jack nodded.
"Awesome," he said, moving to kiss Luna's cheek. "Goodnight, you," he said; "and thank you for McLaggen. You totally made my night."
Jack looked at her. "That was actually you?"
She shrugged. "I told you I wasn't to be messed with."
He merely nodded, before mumbling his own goodnight to both Harry and Hermione as they stood to leave. He watched them go, his eyes lingering on their joined hands. The guilt was eating away at him and he knew it wouldn't go away until he decided to do something. But what? What were his options? Tell him and possibly mess things up, or don't tell him and face the truth coming out in some other way?
A throat clearing at his side forced him to turn to look and find Luna looking at him curiously. "Who are you looking at?" she asked, frowning slightly. "Harry or Hermione?"
He sighed heavily. "Neither," he said. "Both. I don't know."
"Something on your mind, Potter?"
"You could say that."
"Harry's a good listener," she said; "if you didn't already know."
"I do know," he murmured. "I just - what I need to tell him isn't easy. It's not good either."
Luna took a deep breath. "Will it hurt him?"
"Possibly," he admitted.
"But you believe he needs to know?"
Jack nodded, feeling torn.
"Then you're going to have to tell him, aren't you?"
Jack wanted to argue - somehow make a case for himself - but the strange little witch was only telling him all he already knew, and he hadn't even asked for it. "It's going to change things," he said quietly.
"Hasn't it already?"
And Jack knew the truth of that. "Won't you murder me in my sleep or something?" he asked, glancing at her.
"You seem reluctant," she said, absently rising to her feet. "So I'm reserving judgment."
"What did I do to deserve such kindness?" he asked, also standing up.
"Are you questioning my generosity?"
"Never," he was quick to say.
"That's what I thought."
Unknowingly, Luna gave Jack the permission he wasn't even sure he was seeking. He would tell Harry. He made the decision as he walked Luna to the Ravenclaw Common Room. It was the right thing to do, and Jack was now about doing the right thing.
Which was why, the very next day, he made the effort to get Harry alone so they could talk. He felt awkward and forced but this was important. Harry needed to know and, if Hermione wasn't going to tell him, Jack would. He deserved to know. He had to know.
Jack managed to find him in the Common Room moments after classes let out, lounging on the couch opposite the fireplace. He reasoned that he had a few minutes before the room was bombarded with students rushing to drop off their things in the dormitories before eventually taking the Castle by storm.
"Hey," Jack said, sitting down next to his brother. "Got a minute?"
Harry merely nodded as he closed the book in his lap and gave Jack his full attention. "What's up?" he asked, thinking that this conversation was bound to be about Quidditch, the war games or even Malfoy.
But he was wrong.
So very wrong.
It started out simple enough, and Harry listened as carefully as he could right until the moment Jack said the all-important words that both boys were suddenly sure were going to change everything. There was no going back now.
It was said.
"I kissed Hermione."
Oh.