A Club
Viopathartic
A/N: Sorry this took so long. I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 4:
Next day
The trio headed down to breakfast without saying a word to each other. Harry wondered if the two were mad at him. But then again, why would they? He didn't remember doing anything to upset them. Ron didn't seem to hate him; Harry had given him smile and his red-haired friend had returned it. He told Hermione and Harry that he was going to get his breakfast from the other platters since the one in front of them was empty. That left Hermione and Harry alone.
"I saw you with Luna last night," said Hermione casually. Harry looked up in surprise from his breakfast plate. Apparently, Hermione had let the argument between them slide for now.
Harry tensed. "You did?" How did she see him? Was she there when Harry had snuck out? No, he was positive that everyone was asleep…
"Yeah. I was coming from a meeting with a professor and saw you guys." Harry visibly relaxed. She only meant after the club meeting.
"What were you and Luna talking about?" Harry swore he saw something in Hermione's eyes when she said Luna's name. She's jealous, shouted a voice in his mind. He shook it away. Hermione was with Ron; she couldn't possibly like him. It was only his stupid imagination.
"Oh, this and that. Luna's a nice girl," answered Harry who was anxiously observing his friend's response. Hermione nodded and he finally gave up. She definitely doesn't like me….
Seemingly she had forgiven Ron completely. And the sight of them together made Harry want to puke.
Harry was waiting to tell Neville about their intended lesson for Malfoy tonight. Professor Binns was droning on about some sort of revolution in the mid 1500s but Harry paid no attention as he shot furtive looks over at Neville. His friend had his chin rested on his fisted hands. His eyes were slowly drooping and Harry knew he would have fallen asleep if it weren't for the class dismissal.
Hermione, who sat next to Harry, noticed her friend's attention was fixed on Neville Longbottom. First Luna and now Neville. She had to find out what was going on. Harry had also perceived Hermione's confused glances and couldn't help but think that she was actually paying attention to him and not the teacher as she usually would.
As everyone stood from their seats, Harry made his way over Neville. He missed the glance that Hermione had shot him before heading out of the classroom with Ron. Once the teacher sought refuge in his office, it was only him and Neville in the classroom. Neville apparently didn't realize that someone was with him. He grabbed his textbook, initially planning on putting it in his bag but the huge mass had slipped from his fingers. Once he picked it up, he became aware of Harry's presence.
"Er…hey Harry," he said nervously. He looked over Harry's shoulder, planning on spotting Hermione or Ron waiting for Harry but there was only an empty doorway.
Harry greeted him distractedly. "Listen, I don't have much time right now but I wanted to tell you…" Beckoning him, Neville leaned in closer. "If you see Luna, tell her to tell you of the plan."
"Plan? What plan?"
"Exactly," said Harry who looked around. He supposed his paranoia was kicking in.
"I think I have free period…I'll tell her then but Harry, I can't make the meeting today. I have a session with Professor Sprout."
"Oh. Okay then you should really talk to Luna-you know, so that she could fill you in," Harry finally said. He packed up his bags, intending the leave right then but Neville's voice stopped him from even moving.
"I-I didn't get a chance to say thanks," said Neville, now looking at the floor.
Harry looked confused. "For what?"
"For making me feel…comfortable…like I belong," he paused, "even though Malfoy's there. I know for a fact that Luna and I are not exactly popular. D.A saved me last year and now this club too…so, yeah, thanks…"
"Er, you're welcome, Nev," Harry answered, truly bewildered by Neville's earnest expression. His friend gave him small smile, patted him on the shoulder and left the room.
Harry couldn't help but feel a bit of pride after he was left alone in the room. He wasn't aware of the affect he had on his friends by merely creating a club out of boredom. And Harry was glad that Neville chose to stay. Even though people might think of Neville as a wimp or a coward, he knew it was simply not true. Neville Longbottom was the one who accompanied Harry in the Department of Mysteries; not the other people. That showed Harry his friend's true courage and strength.
He just hoped the situation with Malfoy will turn out the way he wanted. It's either in or out.
If Malfoy doesn't want to change, Harry will be more than happy to kick him out.
If Malfoy does change, Harry's not sure what he'll do next.
"Hey Mal-Draco," greeted Harry as he stood away from the desk where he was leaning against before. He attempted a small smile, albeit how weird it was for Harry to smile at his enemy of four years.
The Slytherin was momentarily surprised when he saw Harry Potter giving him a smile. He almost expected to see another person behind him and that he was only there by coincidence. Luna went over and grabbed Malfoy's hand, pulling him over to the middle of the room and seating him in a chair. Malfoy didn't even think to pull his hand away when he felt the girl's surprisingly warm, soft skin against his.
"Alright, Draco. Ready for your lesson?" Luna asked conversationally--but to Malfoy, it sounded creepy. "Now the first task is fairly easy." She walked to the front of the room where a large moveable chalkboard was located. Photographs and charts covered a majority of its area. Malfoy noticed that none of the photographs were showing like wizarding photos should.
Together, Luna and Harry rotated flipped the board so that the other side would be visible. Unlike the other side, this one was empty. Harry stepped in front of Luna. "Now, I will show you three photos and all you have to do is organize them into their own category. Can you do that?"
His calm voice was beginning to annoy Malfoy. "I'm not stupid, Potter. Get on with it." If Harry was annoyed by his comment, he didn't show it. Very odd for a hot-tempered boy like Harry Potter. But Malfoy saw that the boy's hands were clenched in fists.
Harry moved over to the board, lifting a piece of chalk and putting against the board. Swiftly, he drew a neat chart of three columns and two rows. In the second row, he pinned to the board a picture of a student in each column. He stepped back as if admiring his work.
"Do you recognize anyone, Malfoy?" The Slytherin didn't like how Harry had said his name.
Tightening his jaw, he nodded. Seamus Finnegan, Gregory Goyle, and Hermione Granger.
"Good." Harry turned his back again and continued to write.
PUREBLOOD, he swiftly wrote.
HALF-BLOOD, he hurried scribbled.
MUDBLOOD, he jabbed the chalk against the board as if forcing his hand to write out the nasty insult.
Draco Malfoy stared at those three words as if they were presented in some foreign language. He couldn't understand what Harry was trying to teach him in this 'lesson'. His father, Lucius Malfoy, had taught him something like this. He didn't understand at first either. But his father made him.
Flashback
Draco was just four years old when he came in from the backyard after running around with his mum. It was loads of fun! He wanted to play and play until the sun set by his mum got too tired. With a smile, she caressed his cheek then told him to wash his hands in the bathroom before going into the kitchen where the house elves would have his dinner ready.
Dobby, a house elf that his father had bought a few years ago, nervously set a plate of meat sandwich in front of Draco when he hopped onto the stool. He smiled at Dobby but the house elf only jumped as if surprised and scurried away.
Draco didn't think that was nice; it was rude. Something was probably wrong with him. His father came in a minute later, involved in a conversation with Goyle's father. They didn't notice him and Draco stayed quiet; his father didn't like it when he gets interrupted. He met Goyle three days ago but didn't really like him. His father pushed him into making friends with him so Draco supposed he could learn.
"…Weasley's such a mudblood lover! I only wonder why the Minister even thinks to hire that bastard.
"He said he needed to show variety in the Ministry!" Lucius scoffed. "Purebloods and Mudbloods…together!"
Goyle laughed. Draco now knew where Goyle had gotten his brainless laugh from. He wondered what "Mudblood" meant. His father would always use it and said it with great distaste. Was a 'mudblood' that bad?
Suddenly, a house elf, who was carrying a platter of butterbeer, tripped over her excessively long, dirty cloth, causing the bottles of butterbeer to crash to the floor. The liquid, as a result, splashed upon his father and Goyle's father's shoes.
He was so angry!
"You stupid creature!" Lucius kicked the house elf, sending him into the air and landing painfully on its back. It scrambled to its feet, bowing deeply.
"I s-sorry, Master M-Malfoy. Dobby never m-meant to ruin Master's good s-shoes," Dobby apologized, still bowing.
Draco looked away, taking a large bite of his sandwich. His father always did this-hurting Dobby that is. Draco chose to keep chewing, hoping that the tears in his eyes would disappear.
"I'll have your head if you continue to act as clumsy as this!" Lucius shouted, shaking a fist at Dobby. "Get out of my sight!"
The house elf did as he was told, clumsily tripping on his way out.
"House elves…"Lucius muttered darkly. After a few words were exchanged, Goyle and Lucius shook hands. Goyle patted Draco on his shoulder, the force nearly causing him to spit out his food.
"Father?"
"Yes?" Lucius answered, flatly.
"What are Mudbloods?"
"Dirty blood. People who are dimwitted, ugly, and poor. Those people deserve nothing of our world. They should just go live with the Muggles," muttered Lucius who was reading a letter as his son watched. He crumpled the parchment after he finished and finally glanced up at his young son.
"What are we?" Draco asked, his sandwich forgotten.
"Purebloods. The greatest of all wizards. Supreme rulers of Mudbloods, half-breeds, and Half-bloods. The Malfoys are noble purebloods and we only associate with our own kind. Our job is to purify our world…by destroying those who don't belong."
He pointed the letter opener at his son, gazing at him with intensity. "Never associate yourselves with those kinds. Kick them out of the way if they ever try to come near you. Understand?"
Draco nodded numbly.
Lucius, satisfied, reorganized his papers with a flick of his wand and walked out of the room.
Years later, his father liked to remind him how purebloods were better. He'd show Draco some pictures and bring him along when it was time Lucius' weekly gathering with his buddies from Slytherin.
All Mudbloods were dirty.
Purebloods were powerful.
Half-bloods were both good and bad depending on their connections with the purebloods.
Yes…Draco understood perfectly.
"I would like you to arrange these three pictures into their…proper categories," Harry said, interrupting Draco from his walk through memory land.
"It's easy, Draco," said Luna in her creepily dreamy voice.
Slowly, Malfoy stood from his seat and approached the chalkboard. He could feel Harry and Luna's eyes on the back of his head and he reached up to the pictures, pulling them off and reorganizing them. Once he was finished, he sat back down without another word.
"Good," commented Harry even though he thought the opposite.
"How about them," Harry whispered, pointing a hand to the new pictures. Luna had used her wand to move another set onto the board, arranging them besides the other one.
One was a faded picture of a curly headed girl with pale and pasty skin. Another was of a boy who had a parrot-like nose. The last depicted an old man with wrinkles all over his face.
"Who are they?" Draco asked, confusion appearing on his face.
"Never mind that. You're supposed to know what they are. I mean…didn't your father teach you?" The cold tone in his voice sliced through Draco like a ghost walking through him.
"They're not even magical!" Malfoy spat.
Harry nodded. "You're right. They're just Muggles."
"Why are you showing me this?" Malfoy asked again. He forced his usual snide into the question.
"We're teaching you."
Harry flicked his wand at Malfoy, summoning invisible ropes which quickly encircled Malfoy's whole body. They strapped the Slytherin to his chair, disallowing any moment.
"Hey!"
With another swish, Harry rotated the board to the side with photographs. Malfoy squinted his eyes, taking a closer look.
One picture was pinned against the board, gray and torn at the edges. The caption was written in a different language but Malfoy didn't need to know what it said. In the picture was a pile of clothing and dirt from what Malfoy could see. But when his eyes focused, he found it wasn't.
They were just kids. Some were bald, some had hair. Some had arms and legs. Some didn't. Their eyes were closed shut but Malfoy realized with a sickening fall of his stomach that they weren't.
The very image made him blanch, and he immediately felt ill.
The next depicted a classroom. In front of the room was a blackboard that had Jew and an arrow pointing down. Four children were forced to stand under the arrow in front of their other classmates. They looked miserable.
Harry watched Malfoy's reaction, letting the impact sink in. "A Jew is a member of an ethnic group. They practice a religion called Judaism."
His mouth moved with its own accord and before Malfoy could shut it, he mumbled, "W-why are they standing up there?"
"For a lesson. The teacher was teaching the class how to identify Jews."
"Are the others--?" Malfoy asked, referring to the three pictures from before.
"No," answered Harry simply though his eyes showed repressed anger. "The girl was only half Jewish. Her mother was Christian."
"I don't understand," mumbled Malfoy in a low voice.
"Let me put it in words that you can understand, Malfoy." Harry pulled a chair and placed it next to the chalkboard, taking a seat himself. With his wand, he pointed to the pictures. "A Jew is the equivalent of Mudblood."
Even though he didn't want to admit it, the analogy made better sense to Malfoy.
"There was this man from the muggle world in the 1940s. His name was Adolf Hitler and was born in Austria. His father was a customs official and his mother was his father's cousin. He wanted to be a painter when he was little. A lot of people liked him when he was little because he was a bright kid. A leader too."
Malfoy scoffed, attempting to bring back his disregard towards Harry and his lesson."So?"
"Later in life, after his father and mother died at separate times, Hitler decided to join the army," continued Harry in a loud voice, acting as if he didn't hear Malfoy's input. "Why? Because Hitler liked being in the army. For the first time he was part of a group that was fighting for a common goal. Hitler also liked the excitement of fighting in a war.
After a war called the First World War-something you wouldn't know since you're a wizard, Hitler was stationed in Munich, the capital of Bavaria. While Hitler was in Munich, the capital of Bavaria, the leader of an Independent Socialist Party, declared it a Socialist Republic. Hitler didn't like it of course. He was furious and as a German Nationalist he disagreed with the socialism because one of its major beliefs was equality.
He thought that Socialism was part of a Jew's scheme because most of the socialist leaders were Jewish. The Jews were not very well liked because they were different from the others and people thought that Jews only took up their spaces in Germany by taking up the jobs and leaving others in poverty. So it was no surprise when Germans decided to join Hitler in exploiting the Jews. They're known as Nazis, cold-blooded minions of Hitler."
"He's…famous in the muggle world because he killed a lot of people. Muggles call it the Holocaust. With the help of the Nazis, Hitler rounded up Jews and placed them into concentration or extermination camps. Families were separated. Men, woman, and even children were killed by tortuous methods of the Nazis. They were starved, beaten, and shot to death. 6 million Jews and 5 million others were killed, if you want an approximate number."
Harry paused and looked straight into Malfoy's eyes. Luna released Malfoy from the ropes with her wand.
"Reminds you of someone, right?"
"No." Malfoy answered a bit too quickly.
"Really?" Harry asked through clenched teeth. "Funny because it reminds me of Lord Voldemort."
Malfoy attempted a smirk but failed. "And how's that?"
Harry shrugged and said sarcastically, "To translate in wizarding terms, Lord Voldemort is Adolf Hitler. He kills Mudbloods and Half-Bloods because he doesn't like them. Odd…because Voldemort is a Half-Blood just like Hitler was also half Jewish. The Nazis are the Death Eaters. Like your father, for example." He could see the impact of his last words on Malfoy. His hands suddenly clenched in fists before one hand flew behind him and withdrew his wand.
Malfoy snarled with a death grip on his wand, "Don't you dare talk about my father, Potter."
Harry pulled his wand in response. His eyes glowed a dangerous green like the color of an Avada Kedavra. "You're defending him? Even after he disowned you? After seeing what he has done to you? After brainwashing you into believing that Voldemort's ways were right?"
"You're gonna be sorry!" Malfoy hissed, now on his feet. He said the words but did not act on it. This gave Harry encouragement to continue.
"Your father abandoned you and your mum, Malfoy. He doesn't care about you. Not one iota. You were never anything to him besides a potential Death Eater for Voldemort."
"Don't say the Dark Lord's name!" Malfoy hissed out of habit. Sparks of green were flying from the end of his wand.
"Voldemort," Harry growled. "Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort."
Red sparks burst from Harry's wand.
"Do you understand what your father is doing? Do you, Draco?" asked Harry, taking a step forward. He felt almost insane as he stared in Malfoy's eyes, silently begging for understanding.
"Don't talk about my father," whispered Malfoy one more time.
"Your father and the rest of his people are crazy and sadistic. They're just like the Nazis killing innocent people and enjoying it and that's exactly what you'll be when you--"
"You bastard!"
Harry suddenly found himself on his back with another body on top of his. Malfoy forgot about magic and delivered blow after blow to Harry's face with earnest, screaming in anger. Instantly, Harry fought back. He aimed one to the side of Malfoy's head, knocking him back. But Malfoy seemed determined to cause as much damage as he could. He twisted his head as if the punch was nothing and threw a punch into Harry's stomach.
Harry couldn't breathe for a moment because of the punch and the fact that Malfoy, who probably weighed more or less than Harry, was trying to suffocate him.
Suddenly the punches stopped and Harry regained his breathing. He pushed aside the pain and managed to lift himself up into a sitting position.
Draco Malfoy was sprawled on the floor, eyes closed and not moving.
Harry looked behind him and saw Luna with her wand out, eyes flashing with an emotion that Harry couldn't decipher.
"I think that's enough for our lesson, Harry," she said with her eyes on Draco. She whispered, "Ennervate."
Draco shot up from the floor, breathing hard and wildly glancing around. He struggled to his feet and saw Luna with her wand on him.
He glanced over at Harry with hatred before scooping down to retrieve his wand. Without even a look backwards, Malfoy threw open the door and ran from Harry and Luna's sight.
Minerva watched as Harry walked into her room like a person on death row. Students were filing in after him, chatting with their peers. She saw Hermione and Ron take their usual seats beside Harry and saw the girl nudging him in the arm, probably asking him about his bruises. Harry just shook his head and looked expectantly at Minerva, silently telling her to begin the lesson.
Yesterday night, when Harry had come to Albus' office, he said nothing. He only took out his homework and worked on it until Albus politely asked Harry to turn in.
"Good morning, class."
The students chorused, "Good morning, Professor McGonagall."
McGonagall flicked her wand, intending the chalkboard to flip to an empty board, but she found it wasn't. There were pictures pinned to it, depicting the horrors of Muggle catastrophe Dumbledore had once mentioned to her. There was one with a little boy who was probably five years of age and he was curled in fetal position, eyes closed and tears pouring from his little eyes. Standing right next to him, impassive and uncaring, was a soldier who was wearing a red band with a white symbol adorned as a patch. He did nothing to comfort the boy.
The next picture depicted a man with a mustache standing on a podium that overlooked the people at rally. He was wearing on the patches and it was evident that the people were cheering for him.
And many other pictures that caused bile to rise in Minerva's throat.
The last section of image was not as horrific as what the images before it had depicted, but it still unnerved McGonagall. There were three pictures of two girls and one boy. Hermione Granger was in the classroom and stared at the picture in daze. Each of them were placed under three labels: Pureblood, Half-Blood, Mudblood.
Minerva froze, thinking the only person who used this room after classes was Harry. She turned around and looked at her class who stared back, waiting for an answer. Her eyes landed on Harry but the boy was attempting to maintain a blank face. He may have succeeded if it weren't for his eyes. McGonagall knew them well and deciphered guilt.
Wordlessly, she waved her wand and the horrid pictures disappeared. She turned around to compose herself and once she decided that she was emotionally able, she rotated back around.
"Turn to page four hundred and eight, class."
Harry sighed once he stepped through the doors of the Hogwarts library. He knew that Minerva McGonagall suspected him, and he was a bit worried as to what she might think of him now. He supposed he might have to talk to her a bit in the office.
His eyes scanned the room, unconsciously landed on Hermione's table that was nearest to the front. He saw stacks of books lying on the surface, noticed her bag, and knew that she was here. Perhaps she was searching for more books. His eyes wandered again and spotted Luna sitting at the table in the back of the library. She appeared to be quite busy and alone.
Nevertheless, Harry ran a hand through his hair out of habit and shifted the strap of his bag on his shoulder, making his way to the table in the back.
"Hey Luna," he said softly, stopping in front of her table. Luna glanced up in what seemed to be surprise but Harry came to know that expression as her normal one.
"Hello Harry. I see you got your bruises fixed by Madam Pomfrey."
Assuming that this was her invitation, Harry sat down across from Luna.
"Er, yeah," he began, casting look down at her papers and wondered what wacky thing she was working on. "What are you doing?"
"I'm working on my Ancient Runes paper," she explained simply.
Well, I'll be.
Apparently, Harry let his surprise show and Luna noticed it. "What did you think it would be?"
"Oh. Er, I thought it would be something for your Crumple-Horned Snorkack or-"
"Oh no," Luna said and then smiled. She reached into her book bag and pulled out a large tome. She slapped it down in front of Harry who then slid the large object closer so that the title was visible.
"I'm saving the research for Ishkabob Toenailers for later."
Harry chuckled.
"So what is it?"
"Draco is just…do you think we can really change him?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. But what matters is that we are trying."
Harry nodded, flipping his textbook to a random page.
Luna sighed audibly. He heard her scribbling something against the parchment. "But…Harry, I don't think Draco is the only one who needs to be changed."
"Who else?" he asked, confused.
"You," she answered simply. Then she went back to using her quill.
"Luna, I'm not like Draco. I don't care about blood status! Hell, I'm friends with a half-giant!"
"I know," stated Luna who continued to look at Harry. "But I notice that you have a certain distaste towards Slytherins."
"How can I not? The whole lot of them will turn into Death Eaters one day."
Luna shook her head, smiling slightly. "That was what I was talking about. Not all of them are bad."
Harry noticed his hands had curled into fists once Luna said that. A Slytherin had killed Sirius. A Slytherin had become the most terrifying dark sorcerer since Grindelwald.
Unexpectedly, Luna took one of his fists, uncurled it, and covered his hand with hers.
Harry remembered how Luna had held his hand when she confronted him the day after Sirius was killed. Oddly, he was comforted.
From afar, Hermione could see Harry talking animatedly with Luna. Apparently he was worked up about something and all Luna was doing was nodding and smiling, saying only occasional sentences.
Then the girl reached across the table and grabbed Harry's hand.
He didn't pull away.
Hermione felt sometime squirm uncomfortably inside of her. She shook her head. It was only because she never saw anyone try to touch Harry before. She was the only one who would hug him or comfort him by holding his hand. And now Luna, a girl that Hermione didn't exactly approve of because of her heterodox belief in imaginary creatures, was holding Harry's hand.
And Harry let her.
I know it seems like Harry and Luna might get together but they're not gonna. ItWILL be Hermione and Harryin the end.AlthoughIf I wasn't a H/Hr shipper, I would ship Harry and Luna. Luna has such a soft and compassionate personality and I want her to act a comfort to Harry.
And also make Hermione jealous :)
It's odd because I compared Voldemort to Adolf Hitler while Hitler is also compared to Gellert Grindelwald. Never knew that until I researched more thoroughly. Anyways, I hoped you liked it!
Viopathartic.