Disclaimer: What, we're at chapter 41 and I still need to tell people that these characters aren't mine, they belong to JKR and Warner? Well, okay… if it helps…

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Chapter 41: Recipes for Revenge

"Harry, wake up or you'll be late for breakfast."

Sirius. Harry smiled. He'd finally moved out of the Dursleys' and in with Sirius. Then he remembered the Blockade and travelling through time and Sirius being a complete prick –

And McGonagall wanting to talk to him and Draco before breakfast.

"Hell."

"You can stay and have breakfast here," Sirius said, his face neutral.

"Can't." Harry leapt up and pulled his robes over his head. As he did up the laces of his sneakers, he explained, "I've got to see McGonagall…"

"Oh, right." The muscles around Sirius' mouth relaxed a fraction.

"Bye." Harry sped out, hoping he wasn't too late.

Obviously not: Draco was sitting outside McGonagall's office, arms folded, eyes shut as if he resented every moment of being awake when it involved mornings but precluded breakfast. Harry sat down on the bench next to him.

"So… are we in trouble?"

Draco opened one eye just long enough to ascertain it was Harry. "Eh. Maybe she'll take points off Slytherin." He yawned. And smiled. "It's quite good not being tied into the points system any more."

Harry supposed it would be. "Less competition?"

A shark-like smile. "Not in the least," he drawled slowly, relishing each word and making Harry smile back. "But competition more appropriately applied than that silly House Cup nonsense."

Harry supposed this had something to do with Draco turning secretive this past week. Best not to ask – if Draco wanted to tell, he would in his own time.

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McGonagall wasn't foolish enough to try taking points. But she did want Harry and Draco to explain why they would have attacked the three boys in such a vicious manner. One of the boys had needed his head removed and reattached before Madam Pomfrey could get the hexes out.

Harry, noting that Draco turned sullen in McGonagall's presence and didn't seem inclined to give their side of the story, explained it. He included how the Ravenclaw and the Hufflepuff had been two of the three who'd tried to use Simon to kill Draco.

"Is this true, Mr Malfoy?"

"Well, being blind I hardly saw their faces, but I knew their voices."

"Why did you not come to a teacher about this?"

Draco's pale brows drew together. He might have merely been thinking, but Harry recognised someone battling to hide their scorn. By the slight twitch of McGonagall's nose, so did she. "Professor Snape was dead."

McGonagall stilled for a moment before saying carefully, "There are other members of staff who would have sorted out the matter."

Draco blinked slowly. "Of course. I was remiss. Perhaps if two members of staff hadn't left me in a barn overnight I might have remembered to do so."

Professor McGonagall closed her eyes for a moment, perhaps praying for strength from above.

"Please don't concern yourself, Professor," Draco said smoothly. "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

"Oh, aye. That's what I'm worried about," she said grimly.

Then there was a knock at the door.

"Come."

It was the three boys, closely followed by Luna, who was escorted down by Madam Pomfrey.

"Thank you, Poppy. Come in, you four. Take your seats."

Luna took a seat by Harry. He smiled at her hopefully. She smiled back, but it was her misty trademark smile, with no real meaning behind it. His own smile died on his face. He turned just in time to see Draco's pity, which quickly blanked out. Draco wasn't someone who wanted a reputation for pity. Harry scowled down at his hands. He didn't want pity anyway, and he didn't give a flying fig about Malfoy's reputation. He wanted a genuine smile from Luna.

The other three shifted uneasily in their chairs, the leather seats squeaking.

McGonagall folded her hands. "Now. Perhaps you tell me the story again. Beginning with your putting Mr Malfoy into a pen with an animal Headmaster Dumbledore had told you was potentially dangerous and should be avoided…"

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The meeting didn't reach a satisfactory conclusion for anyone, to Harry's mind. The Ravenclaw and his cohorts hadn't meant to harm Luna – just give her a bit of a fright. It was just a joke. They thought all this was overkill. And what was the point of making a fuss over a Muggle animal, after all? McGonagall's frozen expression should have warned the Hufflepuff against adding that last comment and the Ravenclaw's elbow came too late. It earned the three boys extra time with Hagrid cleaning up after CoMC.

Harry would have liked to have talked to Luna about it, to see if she thought justice was done, but Luna slipped out the door first, off to the Ravenclaw dormitory to get her books for her first class. Madam Pomfrey had made her eat breakfast in the Infirmary.

Harry could see what McGonagall was concerned about – that the students were reaching the stage where they would become unmanageable. He could see how worried she was about the Slytherins especially in that regard. The knowledge that the three boys would be punished above and beyond detention with Hagrid (Filch, who was bored, had some ideas he wanted to test out) for their endangering of Luna mitigated Harry's discontent only a little. It was easy to see that McGonagall was worrying about lapsing discipline, but Harry didn't see that she was doing anything to correct it. And Draco seemed to be even more firmly set on his own course, whatever that might be. He wasn't interested in bringing up any old grudges about being thrown to dangerous animals. Not before McGonagall, anyway.

It was more likely he had his own revenge planned out.

Harry asked him about it afterwards, as he and Draco went in to see what the rest of the students had left from breakfast.

"What, you think I'm planning some underground war?" Draco sneered. He'd managed to cobble together a sandwich of sorts out of toast, cold scrambled eggs and a slice of ham.

Harry was making do with the last of the strawberry jam and toast, which wasn't a third as nice when it was cold and the butter refused to melt. He cast a warming spell on the toast, but it only improved things slightly… and didn't do much good for the butter. He licked melting butter off his fingers and said, "Maybe. I know McGonagall is. As for me, I'm just trying to keep informed of things. Call me paranoid, but I like to know who's out to stick a knife in me. And if you start fights with people they might try to get back at you by hurting me. That's what happened with Luna and Simon, I think."

Draco eyed him. "Fair enough. I'm pretty sure that was why they involved Luna and my horse, too. And I hope you understand that I can't let that lie."

"Absolutely." Harry swizzled the knife around the bottom of the jar and around the sides, trying to get enough jam to make the toast palatable.

"Good. Because if people think others can get to me by damaging something I own or someone who's been helping me, then I lose credibility. Going to go back to your dorm to get your stuff?" he said before Harry could ask what he meant by credibility. Or what he had planned for the three who'd hurt Luna.

"Not like I have a choice." Harry sat back, giving up on the jam and losing his appetite at the thought of his housemates. "I can't believe they were so mean to Luna. I mean, what's she ever done to them?"

Draco gave Harry a cold, reptilian look. "Apart from being a bunch of stuck-up gits, you're forgetting a basic tenet of human nature."

"Which is?"

"Scapegoats. When something goes wrong – crops failing, wars, a two-headed calf, a siege running on so long that, for example, the inhabitants of a certain castle are running out of food and worrying about their families – people need something to blame. Someone to blame is even better."

"So because they feel crappy they take it out on Luna?" Harry could feel his face heating. He'd do more than explode Dean's chess set…

"Pretty much. Luna's an easy target."

"Like hell she is," Harry growled.

Draco nodded. "But this is what they think. It's not pretty, but it's perfectly human. Look at the Death Eaters – they think the world isn't quite like it should be, so maybe things would be better if they took it out on Muggles and Muggle-born wizards. It's human nature to make yourself feel bigger by stomping on someone else and making them smaller."

"In that case human nature stinks."

"Doesn't it, though. Which reminds me – can I borrow your horse muttering book again? But the thing about human nature is that you can use it once you know where all the levers and buttons are. The Dark Lord does it brilliantly. Oh, don't get huffy… you know he does. Otherwise he wouldn't be out there and we wouldn't be stuck in here."

"But… Lavender and Parvati aren't Death Eaters…"

"So? 'Death Eater' is just a label. They're acting stupidly and they're frightened. People hurt other people for lots of reasons, not just because they want to take out their frustrations on someone who can also feel pain. Sometimes they're genuinely malicious. Sometimes they don't understand what they do. Sometimes… I don't know all the sometimeses…":

"Sometimes someone just exists," Harry said hollowly, remembering a memory in a pensieve. "And that's enough reason to torment them."

"I guess," said Draco guardedly.

Harry realised Draco thought Harry was talking about him. This was suddenly getting far too deep – what the hell had Draco seen in the darkness of his blindness? "Look, if you've got anything planned to get back at them for what they did to Luna, I think you should check it with Luna first. Especially to see what she thinks is justice for them involving Simon. And then I'd appreciate it if I was involved." He told Draco about how the Ravenclaw had warned him not to say anything when they dumped Draco in the pen with Simon.

"Hm," was Draco's response. He grinned. "Burns, doesn't it?"

Harry shook his head. "Yeah. It did. Does. I don't like people telling me to do something I know is wrong."

Draco shrugged. "Welcome to adult life. Just the same as childhood, but you're expected to swallow your bitter medicine without complaining."

Harry coughed on a crumb. When he had his breath back, he asked, "So, the revenge thing is still on?"

"It was never off." Draco's brow furrowed. "Um, have you any idea what a Klingon is?"

"Nope. Why?"

"Well, Professor Snape mentioned them once. I think they're a group of people. Maybe from South East Asia. He said that there's an ancient Klingon saying: 'Revenge is a dish best served cold'."

Harry didn't have any idea what Klingons were. "Mongolian, perhaps? Genghis Klingon?"

"Dunno. What's a Genghis?"

"I'll ask Hermione."

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He asked Hermione. She laughed. And laughed harder when he said it was Snape who'd told Draco about the Klingons.

"Honestly, Harry, haven't you ever read Star Trek: a History?"

And she kept laughing and wouldn't tell Harry why.

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He told Ron about it. Ron twirled a finger next to his head. "Girls. They're all crazy. And our Hermione's top of the list."

"Huh. Tell me about it."

"What's up with Luna?"

"Well, you know the whole fiasco in the common room yesterday…"

ooOOoo

Luna found him that evening after dinner. He was up with Simon, who was sulking in his shelter because the rain hadn't let up. By the stringiness of his mane and the damp curls of the hair at the back of his ankles (feathers and fetlocks, Harry reminded himself) Simon hadn't been inside too long. Hunger was a big drive in a horse, and Harry had read somewhere that horses needed exercise to help stop them getting bored and keep their guts in good order. Why exercise should help digestion was a mystery, but horses had very finicky digestive tracts.

As Potter's Horse Dictionary had shown in lurid and occasionally pulsing detail.

Simon was a lot prettier from the outside. And better company than most of Hogwarts, even when he was sulking. Harry patted Simon's shoulder, pleased that the rain hadn't soaked through the blanket. Someone – probably Hooch or Dumbledore – must have waterproofed it. They'd done a good job. Simon gave up scowling at the drizzle and turned to whuffle at Harry's hand.

"No peppermints, sorry.

Simon sighed as if he'd just heard Christmas had been cancelled, and turned back to stare gloomily at the rain.

Harry slung his arm over the horse's back and looked out at it too. He didn't like a day without sunshine, but at least inside Hogwarts he could distract himself with Hermione and Ron, but today Ron had gone off on some errand of his own rather than go to the library with Harry, and Hermione had organised a meeting with some of the younger Gryffindor students who had suddenly become very homesick indeed. Harry had told Draco about it, who had asked Harry an odd question: did Harry ever want to contact his godfather? Harry had shrugged, then Draco had waved a hand and said that it was a daft question, trying to contact a criminal on the run… and stalked off to sort out a dispute between two third-year Slytherins and a Hufflepuff.

Harry stroked Simon's neck. He should put the rug back on. But the horse was nice and warm and solid to lean up against and smelt of health and honesty and a living being that was utterly divorced from the pettiness inside the castle; just having another living creature allow him to share in its space and warmth was better than any mood-enhancing potion Harry could name. The horse lowered its head a little and the eyelashes of the eye Harry could see drooped. As did the lower lip. Simon was falling asleep standing up. Harry always found that impressive. If only he could do that sitting – in History, for example…

He rested his head against the withers and tangled his fingers in a strand of mane, drinking in the twined smells of rain and horse and fresh hay. "I guess the rain isn't so bad when you've got a friend with you. Do you ever get lonely up here on your own? Horses are meant to live with other horses. That's what all the books say. Maybe we should get you a pet." Harry smiled. "Maybe I should get a sleeping bag and come up here… might be the best option if my so-called Housemates don't pull their heads out of their backsides and stop acting like bargain-basement Death Eaters. It wouldn't be so bad having me around, would it? I knew someone else who wasn't comfortable sleeping where there were other people. He let me stay with him. It could be like that – I could ask the house elves to give me some cake and apples and I could peel apples for you and we could… well, obviously you don't read, but you're good company. And you even seem to be house-trained…"

This was true, Harry realised. But then Robert Python said that some stallions were picky about where they went to the toilet – part of marking out a territory or something – and so maybe Simon not wanting to poo where he slept wasn't unusual.

"I'm house-trained, too. Just like you and my godfather." Harry shook his head. He'd had some surreal conversations before, but this one had to be in the top ten.

"Glad to hear it."

The voice made him jump. It made Simon, who'd been dozing, jump, too. Harry moved quickly before the surprised Simon's hoof came down where his foot had been.

"Luna?"

"I thought I had the monopoly on odd conversations with yourself," she said as she manifested out of the darkness. Harry had never thought about her name in that context before, but it was like seeing the moon emerge from behind clouds.

"Um."

Luna tilted her head and peered at him. The wide eyes reminded him obliquely of Simon being presented with something new. "Um," she said, but it didn't seem like Luna to mock anyone, so Harry guessed he was being teased.

Harry raked his fingers through his hair. "Um… why don't you come in? You must be getting wet out there." And could have kicked himself. Duh. Me say obvious thing.

Luna nodded. "That's true." She stepped under the roof, ducking her head and wincing as drips ran off the eaves and down the back of her neck. A flick of her wand and her hair frizzed out like Hermione's before settling into its normal smooth lines, although now it looked slightly less lank than usual. "Hello, Simon. I'm sorry – I didn't mean to startle you." She gazed at Harry as she stroked Simon's nose. "I always expect him to know where I am."

"You took a chance yesterday going to sleep on him," Harry said, and wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Accusing Luna of stupidity wasn't going to help matters.

But she surprised him by nodding. "Yes. I trust Simon… but I shouldn't have forgotten that we're on Hogwarts grounds and there's always some prat…"

"They weren't after you, exactly, if that's any comfort," Harry said.

"No, but they involved me. And they could have injured Simon." She leaned her forehead against the horse's and shut her eyes. Simon accepted the contact as he did everything with Luna – calmly.

"Mm. Has Draco talked to you?"

"About what?"

"Suitable punishment."

Luna opened her pale eyes and rolled her head sideways, still leaning against Simon. So much for learning not to trust blindly in a horse. "What about their detentions?"

"Draco said that the real target was himself. Because you're a friend of his…"

"I am?"

"I think his definition of 'friend' is more like mine of 'ally', but yes."

Luna smiled. "That's still nice. I've never had a friend before."

Harry felt something clench in his chest. The edges of his vision shimmered. "Yes, you have," he said huskily.

Luna's gaze was focussed somewhere out in the darkness. "Monologues with horses don't count. Even house-trained horses." She tilted her head and combed Simon's forelock straight with her fingers. "I came up because Ron said you were upset. You don't need to be."

"I do, actually."

Luna gave him an owlish look. "No, you don't. Thank you for getting angry with the Gryffindors, but I wish you hadn't. Now you've got to make up with them. Besides, it worked out for the best for me."

"They're a pack of… I wish I could remember that word Severus used… I don't want to make up with them. They can make up with me, if they like, but only after they've apologised to you for treating you so horribly. You deserve to be treated like a…" Harry paused and itched at his scar. How should Luna be treated? With gentleness and respect for her bravery and loyalty to people she thought didn't really care about her… and Harry didn't want to lose another friend through misunderstanding. "You wanted to talk to me…"

"…About things that don't concern you. Maybe the Mobian Fury isn't a legend after all."

"What do you meant, don't concern m- Hang on, what Mobian Fury?"

"The Mobian Fury is an incorporeal being related to Dementors. It stops you from talking about things you shouldn't, but is attracted to Dark Magic so isn't seen very often."

"Huh. I should have seen hundreds, then. And been utterly cured of this foot-in-mouth disease I've been suffering from."

Luna gave him a sympathetic look which irritated Harry – mostly because he knew he didn't deserve it.

Harry sighed. He didn't want to talk about Mobian Furies. They probably didn't exist outside the Quibbler… and saying that wouldn't help his cause in the slightest. "It's not just me not listening to you," he said. "I should have defended you against those idiots."

"Why?"

Harry screwed up his face in utter puzzlement. "What do you mean, 'why'?"

Luna shrugged. "They're your friends, Harry. You don't need to defend me to them."

"Oh, for… Luna, you're my friend. Or I wish you were. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to be friends with a complete flobberworm-brain like me. They… they're just people who want me to act like I'm… I don't know…"

"Some sort of model of wizardry devoid of any personal characteristics that don't fall within their rigid social paradigm?"

"Er… yes? And… and they can take their rules of whatever and go to Hell."

"Oh. Oh, Harry… That's so sad."

"What? Why?"

"Because then you'll be like me and have no friends."

Harry wanted to shake her. But Simon wasn't so sleepy as to let him get away with that, not by a long shot. Simon would have to be unconscious before he'd let Harry shake Luna… "Luna, haven't you heard anything I've said?"

"I'm Draco's friend. But he's going to get heavily involved in politics and won't want to be associated with someone like me – I'm too eccentric."

"His loss, then."

Luna stroked Simon's cheek. "Maybe."

She really thought so little of herself… or did she think so little of other people? There was that familiar tightness in her upper lip again, mocking him with its unidentifiable familiarity, and it left the lower one almost pouting.

"Um, Luna?"

"Yes?" She didn't look up.

"Um… there's something I'd really like to do."

"What is it? Another pair of Mendeleev gloves? I suppose I can find my notes, and w-"

Harry cupped her face between his hands and leaned down until his lips touched hers.

Luna didn't pull back.

Harry felt the world both sharpen and fade away around him as Luna's lips first froze in surprise then moved, soft, initially hesitant, beneath his. She smelt of the wood polish they used in the castle, and horse from where his hands touched her, and of soap and flowers, and she smelt like Luna, soft and strong and constant like the moon that everyone else thought was mutable but Harry knew was always there, always shining, always bright, you simply needed to know what angle to look at it from, and sometimes you had to drastically change where you stood to see how beautiful it was, and Luna was kissing him back, and –

– and there was a savage pain in his shoulder –

"OW!" said Harry, and –

"Ouch!" yelped Luna.

Simon was an equal-opportunities biter.

Harry and Luna separated, each rubbing where Simon had nipped them – Harry's shoulder, Luna's upper arm.

Simon glared at them.

"I didn't realise horses were chaperones," Harry grumbled.

"Did you mean that?"

"What? What did I say?" asked Harry, who had lost track of things.

"Nothing. You kissed me."

"Oh." Harry felt like he wasn't just swimming in unfamiliar waters, he was trying to keep his head above the waves over the Marianas trench, with the possibility of kraken swimming below. He reminded himself Gryffindors were meant to be brave – and surely this was the bravest thing he'd ever done? "Yes. I meant it. More than anything, Luna, I meant it. I know I haven't done anything to deserve you, but…"

He was cut off as Luna stepped forward and brushed her lips over his. Simon shifted menacingly to Harry's right, but Luna pulled back before the horse could take action. "Can I borrow your scarf?"

Nonplussed, Harry gaped at her. "My…? Sure. Of course. Here." He unwrapped it and gave it to her. "It's not the sun, the moon and the stars, but –"

Luna smiled. "A scarf is all I want right now."

She quickly used it to blindfold Simon, knotting it tightly in the curve between the horse's jaw and his throat, anchoring it in the cheekstraps of the headcollar.

Simon bobbed his head up and down uncertainly before he stilled, ears flickering.

"There," Luna said with satisfaction. "Now, where were we?"

Harry held out his hands like he was inviting Luna to dance. "Here, I believe."

Luna stepped forward, a little shyly, but Harry recognised her bravery. So he wasn't alone in feeling his way through this, then. As he wrapped one arm around her waist and curved the other behind her shoulders so that one hand cupped the back of her head, it comforted him for some reason, that she should be as uncertain as him.

"Oh yes," she said, lightly putting her hands on his shoulders. "I remember now. And weren't you kissing me?"

"I think you're right. Like this?"

"Mm."

Simon moved his ears at their voices and bobbed his head again, but when they stopped speaking the horse stilled. Perhaps he went back to sleep. If so, it went without being noticed by Harry and Luna.

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