The next morning, Harry was slouched at the Gryffindor table, alone but for the cooling coffee in his hand. He'd found sleep elusive the night before, his mind racing and replaying the previous day's events, and lingering on its end in the Room of Requirement with Draco. He'd finally given up trying to fall back to sleep at around half six and had taken himself down for breakfast. While the other house tables had a smattering of students sat at them already, with Ravenclaw being quite busy, Harry was the only Gryffindor who had emerged for breakfast this early. He watched sleepily as two sixth years, a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw, exchanged a small kiss of greeting, before separating and sitting at their respective tables. He wondered why they didn't just sit together - it wasn't against the rules after all. He looked away quickly to avoid being caught staring.
He glanced around at the sound of approaching feet but was bewildered to find it wasn't one of his friends, or even another Gryffindor who was approaching. Instead, Pansy Parking was practically marching towards him, a determined expression on her face and a mean look in her eye. For a moment, Harry considered sitting up straight and preparing himself for some kind of confrontation - but then he remembered he was thirty-five years old and hadn't worried about bullies for nearly two decades; he wasn't about to start now. Instead, he slurped his coffee and watched with interest as Pansy swung herself onto the bench in front of him, dropping her bag onto the tabletop with a thud.
"Morning Parkinson," he said genially, inclining his head to her bag, "You carrying bricks or something?"
She scowled, "I'm not here for jokes," she snapped.
"That's a shame, what are you here for then?" Harry asked flatly, pouring himself more coffee.
"I'm here," she said through gritted teeth, "To find out what the hell you're doing with Draco,"
Harry paused, and very nearly poured scalding coffee on his hand as his cup started to overflow. He hissed in alarm and whipped his hand away, "What do you mean?" He said cautiously as he banished the mess he'd made, "Doing with him?"
"I mean the sitting with him on the train, and at breakfast, and in potions, and meeting him after class to just 'hang out'," this she said with sarcastic finger quotes, "What have you done to him?" she said accusingly, "The Draco I know wouldn't be caught dead eating with you and he won't," she glanced around to make sure they weren't being listened to, before continuing more quietly, "he won't stop talking about you! 'Oh, Harry said this' and 'Oh, Harry did this' and 'Harry and I thought it was an excellent idea' on, and on, and on!" something small and warm bloomed in his chest; though he flipped between his first and second name, Draco more often than not called him Potter in public, and it made him feel unreasonably pleased to learn that he called him Harry in private, "So, what have you done to him?"
Harry couldn't help the slightly amused twitch of his lips, "I don't know what you want me to say Parkinson - we're friends? I know you're a mean, scary Slytherin, but surely even you have friends,"
"Of course, I have friends," she hissed, "but he hated you before June! He'd have danced on your grave and pissed in your tea!" he wondered if Ron and Hermione had had a similar conversation about them.
He could only shrug, as the truth was obviously off the table, "We're friends - we worked through our issues? I don't know what you want from me Parkinson,"
Pansy gritted her teeth, and pointed an aggressive finger at him, "If you're just messing with him, or if you hurt him, boy-who-lived or not, you'll be the boy-who-died pretty fucking quickly. You understand?"
He nodded gravely, "I understand," she snarled for a moment, but then was gone, storming back to the Slytherin table where a bored looking Blaise was watching them. Harry offered him a jaunty wave, but received only a furrowed brow for his trouble.
"Harry?" He looked round at his name, and found Ron and Hermione approaching him, looks of concern on their sleepy faces, "What was that about?" Hermione said as she took the seat Pansy had previously occupied, glancing over her shoulder at the other girl suspiciously, "What did she want?"
Harry shrugged and returned to his coffee, "No idea, just being vaguely threatening, I think it might be a Slytherin thing,"
Ron scowled, "Malfoy might be okay - okayish," he clarified, "But the rest of them are still a bunch of tossers,"
Harry only smiled, going to take another sip of coffee. His eyes were suddenly caught by a flash of pink, and he kept his mug raised to his lips, using it to disguise his grin. Umbridge had entered the hall for her own breakfast, and she looked mildly frazzled, emotionally and physically. He noticed with amused interest that her head band seemed to be less for decoration today, and more a requirement to control her hair - the wild ends gave her away though, each strand seeming to float slightly as it was repelled by its neighbour. He had to disguise his snort of laughter as a cough when the Defence Professor seated herself, and very reluctantly touched her goblet, a visible sigh of relief escaping her when nothing happened. He nearly choked however, when McGonagall leant past her to grab the sugar, and they both let out a small yelp when they touched for the briefest moment, and the build-up of static discharged.
"Well," said Hermione with a grin, having obviously watched the same thing happen, "I think its safe to say that Umbridge hasn't the first clue as to how static electricity works,"
"How does it work?" Ron asked curiously, though he visibly regretted his decision almost immediately when Hermione launched into a detailed explanation as to the physics behind static electricity. His eyes flicked to Harry's in a plea for help when Hermione started talking about electrons, and he looked likely to cry when Hermione pulled her cardigan free from her bag and rubbed it vigorously on his head to demonstrate the effect in his hair. Harry could only smile; he hoped they would never change.
Harry was unsurprised to find that Umbridge was sitting in on their Charms class, a clipboard and a quill in her hands. She seemed to be perched on her chair as if she thought it might bite her, and any time a student even looked like they might brush past her, she tucked her extremities in tight to her body and froze in place. Hermione was humming happily to herself as she pulled her charms book from her bag, and Ron seemed to have finally decided he was allowed to find this funny, even if he didn't really understand it, and he too was suppressing a smile.
Harry was lazily summoning objects to himself, and had created quite a mountain of items, when he realised there may have been a slight snag in his 'tormenting Umbridge' plan.
Professor Flitwick was eyeing Umbridge curiously as he answered her questions. If there was someone in this school who would recognise a static jinx, Harry would put galleons on it being the charms Professor, who was still famous twenty years into the future as both a skilled Charms Master, and a duelling champion. Harry stopped mid spell to listen (the book he'd been summoning plummeted to the ground and nearly brained Lisa Turpin), and his heart sank when the Charm's Professor's eyes flashed with realisation, and he opened his mouth to speak. Thankfully, Umbridge herself managed to salvage the situation.
"And what is your family history, Professor?" she said sweetly, and Flitwick was thrown off course, stuttering at the unexpected question.
"I beg your pardon?" he said incredulously.
"Your family history, Professor," she repeated, and when Flitwick didn't respond immediately, she gestured vaguely at him, clearly indicating his small stature, "I'm just interested in what groups are in your ancestry, you see - wizards? Muggles? And others," she batted her eyelashes, her smile wide, and she waited for his answer.
Any intention Flitwick had had of informing Umbridge about the jinx was gone in an instant; his eyebrows drew together furiously, and it was with an exaggerated cold politeness that he answered, "My parentage is of no relevance to the quality of my teaching, Professor," the polite veneer was exchanged briefly for disdain, "Now, if you will excuse me, I must turn my attention to my class," he inclined his head to her in a small bow, and turned away. His gaze was instantly drawn to the mountain of items in front of Harry, and his eyes widened first in alarm, and then gleamed with interest. He turned his back fully on Umbridge and hurried his way over to Harry excitedly.
"Oh, Mister Potter! Did you summon all of these items?" he squeaked, eagerly rubbing his hands together and taking no notice of Lisa Turpin in the row below, who was grumbling about her near-death experience.
"Uh, yes Professor,"
"How excellent! Everyone! Please may I have your attention," the class paused in their work; he noticed that Hermione had a particularly complicated expression on her face - he imagined she was unhappy at being passed over to demonstrate the day's charm as she normally would have been, but knowing Hermione, she probably felt guilty for feeling that way as well, "Now, Mister Potter, if you wouldn't mind demonstrating your charm work to the rest of the class?"
"Yes, Professor," for the briefest second, Harry contemplated summoning Umbridge's headband towards himself, but he managed to ignore the intrusive thought, and instead aimed his wand at a large glass globe on the furthest shelf away from him, "Accio!" The orb sailed through the air, and landed obediently in his hand.
Flitwick broke out into enthusiastic applause, "Oh, how wonderful Mister Potter! Did everyone observe the precise movement of Mister Potter's wand? Decisive and purposeful, yes, did you see?" the class nodded together, "None of this vague wand waving and hoping for the best - the real key to a successful summoning charm, is being able to clearly picture the item you want in your mind. In theory, if you are able to grasp the image of your desired item tightly in your mind's eye, you should be able to summon it from nearly anywhere! If you can master that element of visualisation, I have every faith that you will all be able to correctly execute a summoning charm in your exams. Now," with a great sweep of his wand, the items that Harry had summoned, soared back to their places of origin, and more than one student had to duck to avoid being hit, "we have half an hour left of the class - I want you to pick the heaviest, furthest away object from you that you can see, and summon it to you by the end of the class. In the interest of safety, please do not summon objects that are not in this room, and please, do bear in mind any other students that stand between you and your target object - we want no holes in doors, and no concussions this morning, thank you,"
Harry was not oblivious to the unhappy frown being directed his way by Umbridge, but he pretended that he was. Her line of sight was quickly obscured though, as various objects (mostly very heavy looking books) began to soar through the air, though many did not quite go the distance, and tapered off halfway through their journey, and required a second spell to encourage them the rest of the way. With the rest of the class busy, and with Umbridge being ignored in the corner, Harry took the opportunity to the address the Charm's Professor.
"Professor, could I please speak to you?"
"Of course you can, Mister Potter!" Flitwick said kindly, "What can I do for you?"
"I've recently dropped out of my Divination class, so that I can better focus on my other subjects. Professor McGonagall suggested I talk to you about how I could possibly put my free time to good use?"
The small Professor was practically vibrating with excitement, "Oh yes, Minerva did mention something of this at dinner. I have to say, it really does seem that charms have clicked for you after last year, with that excellent summoning charm against the dragon, and that frankly fantastic blasting charm during the nasty business with that imposter," he scowled, but brightened quickly, "I don't know if you saw, but I persuaded the headmaster to allow me to place a preservation charm on the scorch marks on the steps and the grass," Harry had not seen, but to be fair to him, it had been night time the last time he'd been on the steps, "Such mastery deserves preservation! I do think you have the potential to be an excellent Charms master, Mister Potter," Flitwick turned suddenly serious and sincere, "and should that be your choice, I would be more than happy to offer you an apprenticeship under myself. However, I recognise that it is too early for such decisions to be made - instead, I suggest you use your time to develop skills that are more transferable between disciplines,"
"Actually Professor," Harry interrupted, "I did have an idea,"
"Oh?"
"I thought I might try to learn nonverbal magic?"
Flitwick nearly toppled over with his enthusiasm, "An excellent proposal, Mister Potter!" this was, of course, not what Harry really intended to practice; nonverbal magic was something he was already quite skilled in, but he wasn't eager for any skill he had in wandless magic to be widely known, "I suggest then, that you attempt to learn the summoning charm nonverbally, and we shall see what you have managed to achieve at your next lesson - how does that sound?"
"Sounds perfect, Professor,"
It occurred to Harry suddenly, that it was a good job he and Draco didn't share many classes together, or he could have seen things getting extremely competitive, extremely quickly - he imagined the warning about making holes in doors would have suddenly become more pertinent.
Harry was almost disappointed that Umbridge wasn't attending Transfiguration - watching McGonagall put her in her place had been satisfying to say the least. He supposed there was still time.
He had been sat giving Ron pointers on trying to vanish his snail, when McGonagall approached him, frowning in disapproval.
"Mister Potter, while I endorse supporting your classmate's success, I must ask that you complete you own task first," she looked pointedly at his snail, whose eyes were slowly looking from the Transfiguration Professor to Harry; Harry hadn't even attempted to vanish the thing. He wanted to wait for Hermione to succeed first, as she'd started to look vaguely suspicious with the ease at which he'd completed the work assigned by Flitwick, and positively gobsmacked that he'd received homework unique to him. He couldn't hold her reaction against her, remembering his own reaction once-upon-a-time when Ron had been picked to be a prefect over him.
Reluctantly, Harry picked up his wand, and pointed it at the snail, watching as its eye stalks wobbled for a moment, and then shrivel defensively back into itself. He hesitated for a moment, eyes darting up to see McGonagall watching him, hands clasped expectantly in front of her. Well, nothing for it he supposed.
"Evanesco!"
As intended, the snail vanished from sight instantly, and though Harry supposed he should have felt offended at McGonagall's look of surprise, he couldn't blame her. He hadn't been terrible at Transfiguration, but he certainly hadn't been better than Hermione, who was now watching him with her mouth open, her own snail launching an extremely slow escape.
"Well, Mister Potter," McGonagall said, finally finding her words again, "Well done indeed, an excellent display of the vanishing spell, ten points to Gryffindor," Hermione turned back to her own snail, eyes narrowed and full of purpose, "I wonder, if you will find such success with a more complicated animal?" she said hesitantly, conjuring a small field mouse with the flick of her wand, and a cage to contain it with another, "A mouse, as both a mammal and a vertebrate, is more difficult to successfully vanish than a snail, as an invertebrate," the cage and mouse were placed in front of Harry, "Again, if you will?"
Harry did as he was asked, regretting the 'dominate academically' plan already as someone who had never been a fan of the spotlight, "E vanesco!" and the mouse disappeared.
McGonagall took a deep breath in, "Well, keep this up Mister Potter and Filius may not be the only one offering you an apprenticeship when you graduate," she offered him a smile, "Ten more points to Gryffindor,"
"How are you so good at that?" Hermione whispered incredulously across the classroom when McGonagall had wandered away. Harry only shrugged, having no explanation to offer and feeling mildly guilty about his unfair advantage. He felt less so, when she vanished her own snail on her fourth attempt.
"Potter!" Harry was taken by surprise by the arm that was suddenly slung round his shoulders as he made his way down to Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures, "Where have you been? I looked for you after lunch," Draco said sounding annoyed, falling into step beside Harry and pulling them slightly ahead of Ron and Hermione.
"Blame these two," Harry grumbled, "They wanted to do homework,"
Draco peered over his shoulder in disbelief at Ron, "Youwanted to do homework?"
Ron scowled, "Are you telling me you haven't already get loads? Snape's essay alone is gonna' take an hour! Though I suppose he'll let you off no matter what you write,"
Now it was Draco's turn to scowl, "I'll have you know, I take Potions class very seriously,"
"Where's Parkinson?" asked Hermione, glancing about, but Draco only shrugged and offered no explanation, turning back to Harry.
"I've been dreading this class all week," he complained, "It's kind of interesting, I'll give it that - but it's not going to be particularly useful in the future is it,"
"I dunno'," Harry argued with a small smile, "might save you from getting your arse handed to you by a Hippogriff next time,"
Draco winced, "I thought about apologising to that Hippogriff you know," Draco admitted, "But then I couldn't decide if that was stupid or not, or if the thing would even understand me, and then how embarrassing it would be to be rejected by it," they came to a stop just in front of Professor Grubbly-Plank, and waited for the rest of the class to gather. Pansy was already there, stood apart from Crabbe and Goyle, her arms folded across her chest. Upon seeing Draco, Harry was confused to see her roll her eyes and shake her head, but Draco waved her off, taking his arm back from around Harry.
"Well he understood you enough to know when you were insulting him before," Harry pointed out, looking curiously between Draco and Pansy.
Draco's face contorted in confusion, "Why does a Hippogriff understand English? Do you think it would've understood me in French, too?" Harry could only shrug before they were being called to order by the Professor.
"Alright now, settle down, settle down,"
The lesson had been no more interesting than Harry remembered it being, except that Pansy ended up reluctantly partnered with Crabbe and Goyle, as Draco had ditched her in favour of joining up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"What's Parkinson's issue with you?" Hermione asked curiously as she carefully drew the details of the Bowtruckle's face.
"She and I are currently disagreeing over the wisdom of some of my choices," he said cryptically, juggling the feisty Bowtruckle they had chosen between two hands. He offered no more details when prompted and threw a handful of woodlice in Ron's face when he wouldn't stop asking questions.
"Ah!!" Ron cried in alarm when the Bowtruckle suddenly leapt for him, its tiny fingers hunting eagerly through his collar for the woodlice that had disappeared in the folds of his clothes.
"Excuse me gentleman!" Professor Grubbly-Plank said sharply, "I don't think you need me to tell you, that that kind of behaviour is unacceptable,"
Ron scowled at Draco, and Draco stuck his tongue out at Ron.
When the bell rang, they started a slow trudge towards Herbology. Despite not sharing their next class, Draco stayed with them until the last possible moment, just as the greenhouses came into view. His own classmates had ignored his existence, but Harry imagined that Pansy had different reasons to Crabbe and Goyle.
"What class have you got now?" Harry asked as they came to a stop at their parting point, the castle steps and the greenhouses, both just in view. Ron and Hermione carried on down the path a short way before they realised that Harry wasn't following then.
"Transfiguration," Draco answered distractedly, staring after Pansy with a frown.
"She confronted me this morning, you know," Draco's attention snapped back to him, his furrowed brow now somewhere in his hair line, "Yeah," Harry confirmed with a chuckle, "she's worried I've enchanted you, I think. Kept asking what I'd done to you - apparently the Draco she knew would have happily pissed in my tea,"
"Well, I mean, she's not wrong," a reluctant smile was peaking at the corner of Draco's mouth, "I simply lacked the opportunity,"
Harry pulled a face, and shoved him a little. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the fourth years had been released from the greenhouses and were now on their way back to the castle.
"Ugh, gross!"
Draco only shrugged, "I wasn't a very a nice child," Draco reminded him.
"You were a prick," Harry agreed, and Draco only grinned, "We should probably go to class," Harry said reluctantly.
"Hiya Harry!" Ginny interrupted them, trudging up the path with Luna just behind her, "Hi Mafloy," she said his name with meaning, her eyes flashing at him as if they were sharing a joke. Harry would have brushed it off, had it not been for Luna.
"Hello Draco!" she said cheerfully, "I have to say, it's amazingly brave what you did this morning!"
Draco froze, and Harry turned slowly towards him.
"What did you do this morning?" Harry could see by the nervous press of his lips that Draco was reluctant to answer, but it didn't matter, as Ginny grassed him up immediately.
"Started a shouting match with Umbridge in the middle of Defence Against the Dark Arts about You-Know-Who being back," now it was Harry's turn to freeze, eyes locked with Draco's, his feeling of shocked disbelief giving way to furious incredulousness; and Draco had warned him against getting detention, "The whole school's talking about it," Ginny continued, "though I think the retelling is starting to get warped - Alice Tilly said you got on one knee and declared your undying loyalty to Dumbledore, which seems a little farfetched," she admitted.
Harry wasn't really listening though, too focussed on the expression on Draco's face, which seemed to be battling between guilt and defiance, "Did you get detention?" Harry asked quietly; there was a beat, and Draco nodded.
"Every night this week, if the rumours are true," Luna supplied airily, "Anyway, must be off," and with that bombshell, Luna was gone, Ginny trailing after her with an intensely interested look on her face as she peered between Draco's stony expression, and Harry's poorly disguised displeasure.
"Are you coming Harry?" Ron asked hesitantly, but Harry wasn't listening.
"Are you joking?" Harry said sharply, and Draco's expression tightened, falling firmly on the side of defiance, "After all you said about keeping my head down, don't get into trouble, we can't afford to spend every night in detention - you go and lose your temper and start a screaming match with Umbridge?"
Draco spoke through gritted teeth, "You didn't hear what she said,"
Harry scoffed, "I don't care what she said!" he realised with a jolt that this sounded very much like a conversation he'd had once before, except he was now on the other side of it, "I don't care! You're a grown man," this he hissed under his breath, "You should have better control of yourself,"
"Says you! You were having a shouting match with half the table, that first dinner this summer!"
"Yes - but what were the consequences of that? Hmm," Harry said sarcastically, "Exactly - nothing! Because we were amongst friends!" realising they had attracted an audience, Harry lowered his voice from the shout it had accidentally become, and continued in a furious whisper, "What's your detention then?" his gut clenched at the answer he expected but dreaded.
"Lines," Draco said shortly, and some of Harry's anger blended with fear.
"You know what her 'lines' are like," he hissed, "For fucks sake Draco!" Harry's voice broke on his name, as his concern for the other's wellbeing superseded everything else.
Draco only repeated coldly, "You didn't hear what she said."
Harry threw his arms up in disbelief and stormed away towards the greenhouses. Ron and Hermione had to scramble to keep pace with his sudden burst of speed. More than one student watched curiously as he marched past them.
Ron and Hermione watched him with concern as he took a seat in Herbology and emptied his bag of the relevant equipment in silent fury. He was of two minds, if he was honest. Half of him was furious that Draco had gone and done the exact thing he had warned Harry against. The thing he had warned Harry against, more importantly, with the tone of someone who thought Harry was a loose cannon who couldn't be trusted to behave appropriately. Only, for him to go and commit the exact sin he'd been so vehemently opposed to, and to then be defiantly unapologetic for his actions. The other half of Harry though, was worried for Draco. He was sure Draco had been in worse situations, with worse people, but Harry would never be comfortable with the idea of him knowingly walking into an evening of Ministry condoned torture.
"I'd just like to say, Potter," Harry was drawn from his concerned musing by Ernie MacMillan's loud proclamation, "That it's not just Slytherin defectors who believe you about You-Know-Who - I myself support you one hundred percent! My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I!"
And Harry suddenly felt a twinge of regret for how he had left things with Draco, "Oh, uh, thanks Ernie,"
Harry delayed going straight to dinner, in favour of having a shower first to try and rid the smell of dragon dung from his hair. Hermione had grimaced upon sniffing the ends of her own hair, and had gone to wash up as well, whereas Ron had err'd in favour of his rumbling stomach and had made do with a quick scorgify and a promise to save them a seat. Hermione was waiting for him in the common room, having finished first, focussed entirely on the knitting needles and wool in her hands, to the point that she barely noticed him.
"Ready 'Mione?"
She jumped at his arrival, "Oh yes, hang on," she tucked her knitting carefully into her bag, and stood ready to follow him; Harry eyed her knitting paraphernalia contemplatively.
"That for the elves?"
She brightened immediately at his question, "Yes! I've been knitting hats and scarves with all of my free time and leaving them around the tower - they've all been taken so far," she said cheerfully, following him out of the Gryffindor tower.
Harry paused, trying to think of a way to persuade her that trying to free elves that didn't want to be free was maybe not the best thing - especially as he knew it was Dobby who was taking them all, "You know," he started slowly, " I'm not sure you're going about this the best way, Hermione," she scowled, and immediately made to argue with him, "No, no, listen to me, listen! You're trying to free the elves, but we've established a lot of them don't want to be free, so you're probably just offending them. Plus, you're freeing them to do what?"
"To not have to be slaves," Hermione snarled, and Harry nodded encouragingly.
"Yeah, but then what?" she hesitated, "There's no place in the wizarding world for free elves, is there? Not like goblin's, who have their own sources of income and their own clans and the such - house elves are all tied up in wizarding families, aren't they. So, you're freeing them into nothing basically - and I don't disagree with you that they should be free," Harry clarified, "but maybe that should be the end goal, rather than the first step?"
She huffed, "What would you suggest then?"
"How about, highlighting the fact that the house-elf welfare act isn't actually enforced?" Harry suggested, "Or you could try and promote the introduction of systems to support them should they be given clothes and freed? Imagine what would have happened to Winky, if Dumbledore hadn't taken her in? Where would she have gone? Lived on the streets, maybe? With no way to make money or look after herself?" Hermione paused, thinking about his suggestion, "I think they should be free Hermione - and paid for their work. But we've got to start by convincing wizards they should actually care about them, cause' at the moment, I don't think a lot of them do," the rest of the journey down to dinner was made in contemplative silence.
They spotted Ron easily on the Gryffindor table, as he had taken his evening meal with his siblings, and their shock of red hair was easily spotted amongst the rest of the house. Hermione joined Ron and Ginny on one side of the table, while Harry seated himself next to the twins. They had clearly been in the middle of an intense conversation, but they fell silent upon seeing Harry, eyeing one another nervously.
"What?" Harry said bluntly, serving himself from the whole chicken in front of him.
Ron hesitated, and so Ginny spoke for him, "We were just talking about what happened in the Slytherin and Hufflepuff Defence class today - with Draco, I mean,"
Harry scowled a little, stabbing the parsnips in front of him with more vigour than necessary, "Oh? Don't stop on my account," now it was Ginny's turn to hesitate, "What? What's wrong?"
"We just don't want you to start shouting at us," Ron said very quickly.
"Do I look like I'm about to start shouting? Harry said darkly.
"No, but you're being a bit violent with those potatoes," Fred pointed out, as Harry had been in the middle of reducing his roast potatoes into mash.
"What did happen?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Well," Ginny started slowly, "from what I've heard, and cutting out the bits that were obviously not true, like Malfoy cursing half the class: Malfoy questioned Umbridge on whether or not they were going to be using magic in the class, and then either Crabbe or Goyle - no one seems to be sure who's who - said something to Draco about being disowned, something about calling him a blood-traitor, and saying he was worse than a muggle-born now,"
"Cept' he didn't use the word muggle-born," Ron added with a scowl.
"No, he didn't," Ginny agreed, "and Malfoy apparently said something like, he'd rather be muggle-born and a blood-traitor, than a mindless murderous slave to You-Know-Who - I'm paraphrasing here, obviously, from what Luna told me, from what Marcus Belby told her, from what Susan Bones told him, so it's all got a bit muddled - anyway, apparently Umbridge told them to sit down and be quiet, and then started denying the return of You-Know-Who, and saying it was all lies, and that it had all been made up, the standard Ministry line, you know," Ginny paused to sip her drink, and Harry realised that he had completely forgotten his dinner in favour of listening to her, "Then - now no one can agree what was said first so bear with me - but apparently Crabbe and/or Goyle said something about you," she pointed at Harry with her spoon, "called you some awful names," she said vaguely.
"Just tell me," Harry said heavily, "I'm not about to start shouting, I promise,"
"Called you an attention seeking liar," Ginny admitted reluctantly, "Said you were crazy, called you a…"
"Go on,"
"Call you the bastard son, of a muggle-born whore," Ginny said quietly, and Harry imagined she'd used muggle-born to substitute for what was actually said, before she continued quickly, "and Umbridge apparently said something along similar lines, like that you were a disturbed individual and were in need of help, and that you had unfortunate parentage - no one is quite sure after which bit Draco started shouting, but apparently he was so loud, they could hear him in the third year Charms class on the floor above,"
"Wow," like him, Hermione too had been frozen in rapturous attention, and only now started to eat her dinner, "You know - if you'd have told me a year ago that Draco Malfoy would get himself a weeks worth of detention defending Harry, I'd have thought you were having me on," the others all nodded their agreement.
Harry ate the rest of his dinner in silence and found it difficult to drum up any enthusiasm at the quidditch pitch that evening, helping to prepare Ron for the try-outs on Friday. He settled with sitting on his broom and using magic to throw the quaffle repeatedly at the golden hoops behind Ron. He tried not to hunt for the illuminated window on the castle behind them that belonged to Umbridge's office.
The following morning was much like the previous. Finding it even more difficult to sleep, Harry had given up at six. He showered to try and wake himself up, and took himself down for breakfast. He was one of only five students awake this early, the rest all being seventh year Ravenclaw's who he imagined were taking the preparation for their NEWTS very seriously. He attempted to eat a bowl of porridge, but found he didn't have much of an appetite, and settled instead for back-to-back cups of coffee. When he heard approaching footsteps half an hour later, he was half expecting to see Pansy heading his way again. He was surprised therefore, to find Draco sitting down gingerly in front of him.
He blinked, taking a moment to register what he was seeing while he was working on so little sleep, before saying blankly, "Good morning,"
"Good morning," for a very long moment, they just looked at one another across the table, neither apparently eager to talk first; finally, Draco took a deep breath in, and took the plunge, "I wanted to apologise," Harry's eyes flashed in surprise, "You were completely right - I was the one going on at you about not getting into trouble, and then at practically the first opportunity, I'm shouting at Umbridge and getting myself a whole weeks of detention. So, I'm sorry for being hypocritical, and then acting like it was unreasonable for you to be upset with me,"
Harry sat up slowly from his previously slouched position, "I didn't expect you to apologise," he admitted.
"No?" Draco said curiously, "What did you expect?"
Harry shrugged, "For us to awkwardly talk around the idea that maybe you were sorry, and then I'd forgive you,"
"Do you - forgive me, that is?"
Harry nodded, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, "I feel like I should probably apologise too - for not letting you talk, and explain. And I should probably say thank you," he added shrewdly, and Draco visibly tensed.
"You heard what was said," it was said as a statement, not a question.
"Well, I heard whatever version that Ginny heard from Luna, who heard it from Marcus Belby, who heard it from Susan Bones - so kind of I think,"
"I won't repeat it," Draco said sharply, "so don't ask me to,"
Harry waved his concern away, "Yeah, okay, I won't. Thank you though, for sticking up for me," Draco shifted uncomfortably, "Though I feel compelled to point out that I'm capable of fighting my own battles - I don't need you to come to my defence,"
"Ah well, in that case, the next time I see Chang, I'll point her in your direction," Draco joked lightly, a small smile on his face, and Harry shuddered.
"Please don't," he pleaded, "I still don't know what to do about her,"
Draco chuckled and held his hands up in surrender, "Okay, okay, don't worry - I'll continue to protect your virtue from the terrifying sixteen-year-old girl who has a crush on you," they shared a comfortable silence, smiling at one another, before Harry suddenly remembered, and his eyes snapped immediately to the back of Draco's hand.
"How was detention?" he asked darkly, and to his surprise, a wide grin spread across Draco's face, "What?"
"Well," he started cheerfully, "during lunch yesterday, I sent my solicitor a letter detailing what I expected would happen during my detention. As a legal adult you see, Umbridge trying to use a blood-quill with me is tantamount to the illegal use of torture by a ministry official, on a private magical citizen," here he scowled, "If I wasn't a legal adult, technically she could do almost anything to me - Hogwarts faculty assume all responsibility for magical children who attend Hogwarts, and take on the role of de facto parent, and there are no magical laws against parents using corporal punishment against their children. Yet," he added at Harry's outraged expression, "By the time we were adults, Granger had sorted that out obviously," he poured himself a coffee, and continued:
"Anyway - my solicitor wrote back to me from the perspective that it had already happened, so the second she made me use the quill, I whipped out the letter from Themis detailing the legal action she was currently filing on my behalf, with the ministry, against her - so, obviously, Umbridge started freaking out, telling me she had total authority over me as a Hogwarts' student, and that if I was refusing to adhere to the rules of the school and attend my detentions, then she would start proceedings to have me expelled,"
"What?! Surely, she can't do that!" Harry cried, outraged.
"She can't," Draco confirmed, "I demanded the presence of a third party, so that there was a witness, and she refused. So, I stormed out of her office and marched all the way down to Snape's office, with her following and wittering in my ear about all the trouble I was going to be in - expect to hear all about that in the rumour mill by the way. So, we get to Snape, who is royally pissed off for being disturbed let me tell you, so he decides we need to see the Headmaster, so now all three of us are marching through the castle," Draco was barely suppressing a grin now, "me and Snape pretty much silent, with her not shutting-the-fuck-up the whole way - bouncing between being angry her authority was being questioned, and trying to convince me she'd done nothing wrong and I was over reacting.
"We get to Dumbledore's office, he listens to what she has to say, and then to what I have to say, and then he read the letter that Themis had sent me, and then he decides he wants McGonagall's input as well - honestly, the detention started at five, and it was half seven by the time all five of us were stood in the Headmaster's office, discussing what they were going to do. This is after Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall all took it in turns essentially berating Umbridge for having a blood-quill in the school in the first place. Anyway, long story short, they took the quill from Umbridge, Themis is lodging my complaint, I still have to do my detentions, but with Snape not Umbridge, and until my complaint has been resolved, Umbridge has lost the ability to give me detention," Draco held his mug up, "All round, an excellent outcome I'd say," with a reluctant grin of his own, Harry raised his own mug, and they knocked them together, "Cheers!"
"Cheers," Harry drank deeply, "She's gonna' make your life a living hell you know,"
"Eh," Draco shrugged, "she can try."
As Harry now had a free period rather than Divination, he took himself back to bed once Draco had left, citing the need to visit the owlery before the day started. Ron had watched jealously as Harry tugged his curtains closed around himself, blocking the sun out. While Harry had snoozed for half an hour or so, that was all he managed before he was wide awake again. Instead, he propped himself up in bed and set about trying to wandlessly, and nonverbally summon a quill from Ron's bed, to his. By the time the first period was up, Harry had successfully dragged the quill to the foot of his bed but was struggling to encourage it to climb upwards from the floor.
An uneventful Herbology class was followed by Transfiguration, during which the rest of the class continued to work on vanishing their snails, while Hermione was presented with a field mouse, and Harry a large rat. Harry received his animal last, and McGonagall stopped in front of him expectantly, glancing meaningfully down at the rat. With a sigh, Harry raised his wand:
" Evanesco !" and the rat vanished.
McGonagall took a deep braising breath in, "Well, Mister Potter," she said finally, "you might as well begin on your homework in class," she turned away, and called over her shoulder, "and fifteen points to Gryffindor,"
In Care of Magical Creatures, it became apparent very quickly that, while Pansy was back to talking to Draco again, Crabbe and Goyle were very obviously not talking to either of them anymore and kept glancing over their shoulders at the pair and cracking their knuckles threateningly. Upon seeing their approach, Pansy had visibly sighed before saying, as if she was being held at knife point to do so:
"Good afternoon,"
"Progress," Draco whispered in his ear with a grin as he petted the puffskein cradled in his arms, batting away it's tongue when it attempted to stick it up his nose, "Ew, no! Bad puffskein, no! Here," he released the powder pink fluff ball and summoned a spider in its direction, "Eat that instead, and leave my bogies alone!"
"Who are you saving your bogies for then, Draco?" Pansy said sweetly, making Harry nearly choke on his spit.
"Are Crabbe and Goyle lost causes, do you think?" Harry said later as they trudged back to the castle for dinner.
"I hope not - they're just kids. They only know what they've been taught after all, and I was the same," Draco shrugged, "We'll see - I won't give up yet,"
They separated again at dinner, as Draco had a detention to attend, and Ron had asked him to fit in an extra quidditch training session before they went to their Astronomy lesson that evening. The Slytherin and Ravenclaw session for Astronomy was directly after the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff class, and so they saw one another for the last time (or first time depending on how you looked at it, as it was after midnight) that day as they passed one another on the way up and down the Astronomy tower. They exchanged smiles, and a quick hello, and Harry realised for the first time, that he had started measuring the day in when he had last seen Draco, and when he would see him next.
On Thursday afternoon, in Potions class, something unusual happened. He and Draco had been working in a focussed silence, keeping pace with one another but otherwise completely involved in their own potion. With Umbridge absent from the class, Harry was finding it much easier to concentrate, and hadn't relied on Draco's elbow in his ribs to keep him on task. Around half an hour to the end of the class, Snape had drifted past their workstation. His gaze had travelled from Harry's potion, to Draco's, and then to Draco himself, where he paused until Draco noticed he was being watched. Draco froze, and looked up at him, and for a moment they stared at one another, until Snape spoke.
"Do you remember my warning Mister Malfoy?"
The words were spoken like a threat, and by the tightening in Draco's posture, he had received them as such.
"Yes, Professor,"
"Good," Snape said sharply, before sweeping away. Harry was, once again, properly distracted now, and it was only Draco's hand snapping out to grasp his wrist that stopped him from adding double the required amount of mallowsweet leaves to his potion.
"What was that about?" Harry asked incredulously, but Draco hurriedly stoppered a sample of his potion, and muttered:
"No idea," before he practically ran to the front of the class to deposit his flagon with Snape, and then ran out the door. Harry watched him go, bewildered, and he turned to complain about Draco's odd behaviour with Ron and Hermione, but he caught Pansy's eyes instead, as she had stopped at their station on her way to deposit her own potion.
She leant closer after a moment and said, "Apparently, Snape said that if Draco gets into trouble again this term, he'll stop you two from sitting together in potions," she paused, and emphasised, "apparently, " and then she too was gone.
Even more confused, Harry whipped around to Ron and Hermione, but Hermione had already left the room, and Ron was muttering prayers over his potion, which was starting to bubble and overflow.
On Friday morning, Draco sat down for breakfast with them again, with no mention or acknowledgement of his strange behaviour the day before. Harry considered asking him about it, but decided not to - not until they were alone at least.
"How are your detentions going with Professor Snape, Draco?" Hermione asked politely, stirring a spoon of sugar into her tea. The rumour-mill had worked its magic, as Draco had suggested it might, and by lunch time the previous day, the entire school knew some version of what had happened between Draco and the Defence Professor. The one aspect that every version had in common, was the attempted use of a blood-quill against him, and rumour had it that Umbridge was currently taking breakfast in her office as she had received an influx of howlers from outraged parents.
Draco shrugged as he buttered a slice of toast, "Can't complain - he's alternated between getting me to clean out old cauldrons, and making me do additional potions work," Draco pushed the now buttered toast towards Harry, and continued, "It's quite beneficial really - getting me ahead of the class if anything,"
"I can't believe that awful woman tried to use a blood-quill on you," Hermione said darkly, "It's disgusting that she's still in her post!"
"Fudge won't let them get rid of her that easily," said Ron, "She's his inside woman after all - having a psycho at Hogwarts isn't as catastrophic for his reputation as You-Know-Who having returned – if anything, it's standard at this point,"
"Morning you lot!" said Ginny cheerfully as she approached the table, seating herself beside Draco, and stealing the toast he had been buttering; he only sighed, and grabbed yet another slice, "Fanks' Malfoy," she said as she chewed, "You lot heard the latest?" collectively, they shook their heads, "apparently, Umbridge isn't allowed to do detentions anymore. She can give you one – but it has to be carried out by your head of house," she grinned around her next bite of toast, "also, have you seen her hair recently? What's that about?" Harry quietly explained his jinx to her through a pleased grin, only to throw up his hands in disbelief when she said, "What's static electricity?"
"Wizards, I swear," he grumbled, as Hermione demonstrated static electricity once again, with her cardigan and an unwilling Ron's head.
"What you doing tomorrow?" Draco asked Harry, finally managing to eat some toast.
"Need to write to Sirius I guess," Harry said reluctantly; he'd been avoiding thinking about his godfather all week, "So probably gonna' head down to the owlery bright and early,"
"Hmm, I'll join you if you like. I need to write to my solicitor, check where my complaint is at - stuck in administrative hell I imagine. Meet you at breakfast?" Harry nodded his agreement.
"That's amazing Harry!" Ginny said as Hermione's demonstration concluded, "Can you teach it to us?" suddenly, she and Hermione were both looking at him eagerly.
He hesitated for a moment, "Okay," he said reluctantly, "But you've got to me super careful when you use it. If she catches wind then she'll only dispel it, and you'll definitely get into trouble," they nodded seriously, and leant closer.
By the time Harry attended his Defence class that afternoon, it was obvious to him that Ginny (because Hermione had been with him all day, so it couldn't have been her) had been disseminating his jinx through the other years. Every surface in the classroom was covered in dust, and more than one student yelped in surprise when they touched the doorhandle and received a shock for their trouble. Eventually, Anthony Goldstein had had enough, and stood to wedge the door open with a chair to avoid anyone else having to touch it.
Harry had to disguise his bark of laughter with a coughing fit when Umbridge finally appeared at the classroom door, carefully nudging the chair out of the way with her foot to allow the door to swing shut. Her hair looked as if she'd spent the night holding onto a tesla coil, with some strands being practically vertical. The look she shot him was particularly nasty, and Ron began sympathetically slapping him on the back to really sell the act.
"You alright there mate?" he said dramatically, "Did it go down the wrong hole?" Harry wasn't quite sure what 'it' was, but he wasn't going to ask. Still coughing, Harry gave a thumbs up.
Umbridge lowered herself slowly into her seat behind her desk, her eyes darting sharply about the class, "Wand's away," she snapped; Harry hadn't even bothered to take his out, "As we were interrupted in our last lesson, we shall continue with reading chapter one of our textbook," Harry obediently returned to chapter one, looking down determinedly to disguise his smile, "Scorgify! " she cried shrilly. Abruptly, all the dust covered surfaces were gleaming once more. She had cast the spell more than three times by the end of the class.
That evening, Harry sat with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and watched the candidates that had appeared to try-out for keeper. Even though he knew Ron was likely the best choice, he still sat with his fingers crossed in the stands, his gut clenching anxiously every time another would-be-keeper did well and praying that Ron could emulate the potential he'd demonstrated throughout the week with Harry. The other houses were holding their own try-outs for their vacant positions around the pitch as well, and he watched with a kind of sad interest as Hufflepuff tried to find someone to replace Cedric as seeker.
Closest to them were Slytherin, and he could see Crabbe and Goyle swinging beater bats around menacingly, along with a few other contenders of a similar ilk - all as mean and stupid looking as the next. Except, some of them weren't. In fact, some of them were positively skinny, and one was the tiniest second year he'd ever seen.
"What going with the Slytherins?" Harry asked George, elbowing him to get his attention, "Are they seriously considering that second year as a beater? She's tiny,"
"Did you not hear?" George said reluctantly, as if he wished he wasn't the one Harry was talking to about this, "They're looking for a new seeker as well,"
"What?" Harry said sharply, "What about Draco?"
"He's off the team," said Alicia from behind them, "Apparently Montague has been looking for an excuse ever since he was disowned, and when he got all those detentions, Montague went straight to Umbridge and came up with some rubbish about him thinking Malfoy was setting a bad example to the younger years, and wanting her support banning him from the team,"
"Permanently," Katie clarified, wincing as the currentstudent trying out took a quaffle directly to the face.
"Did he not tell you?" asked Fred curiously.
"Clearly not," Harry grumbled, "Prick,"
"I've no love for Malfoy," Katie confessed, "but a permanent ban is just so unfair,"
"It won't be permanent," Harry said confidently.
"But Umbridge said it was?" Alicia said, confused.
"It's only as permanent as Umbridge is," he clapped enthusiastically as Ron mounted his broom to take his turn in trying out for the team, "and if the Defence post really is cursed, then I'm sure we'll see the back of her before long."
Though he was meant to be paying attention, Harry spent the majority of his remaining time on the pitch daydreaming about Umbridge being carried away by a herd of centaurs, and wondering if there was anyway he could organise for that event to reoccur.
Notes