Unofficial Portkey Archive

A Club

Viopathartic

A/N: I'm really glad people like this story so far. Thanks so much to those who read and review my stories! I love you guys!

I'm not planning to make it very long so hopefully it'll be done soon.

This chapter might be a bit "jumpy"…I don't know.

Harry was back in The Office, doodling on his Transfiguration essay even though his professor was sitting a few feet away, watching.

Minerva sensed a change in the boy the moment he stepped into her colleague's room. He seemed more at peace, comfortable with the way things were. She didn't mind him putting off the five page essay that was assigned; just to see the son of James and Lily like this was satisfying.

She glanced over at Dumbledore who was, oddly enough, staring back at her. He smiled slightly and nodded at Harry.

He was grinning as he doodled, whether aware or not. Whatever he was thinking of made him happy.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Harry?"

The boy looked up, hand still gripping his pen.

"You seem to be in a good mood today," commented an amused Dumbledore.

Harry hesitated and then smiled faintly. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Dumbledore leaned forward, steepling his hands. "I'm sad to say that I did not have a good day. Care to share your day with us?"

"Well, it was nothing really. I was talking with Neville when we came upon Luna. She was crying and...

Harry asked softly, "What happened, Luna?"

"I went to visit Draco in the tower," she sniffed.

Harry stiffened, "Draco Malfoy did this to you?"

Luna shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "No."

"Well, then who?" Neville inquired.

"Malfoy did it."

Harry looked at her, bewildered. "But I thought you just said--"

"Draco didn't do it. Malfoy did it. They're two separate people now."

"I guess that's what she meant. That Malfoy had changed. Maybe. Perhaps. I don't know. I don't really know if he was affected by our discussion the other day. After, we," Harry laughed, "fell down a hill because Luna was trying to show us the Lysofits and Neville was making the Lysofits' call...eventually they ended up at the bottom of the hill, but they were fine."

Minerva didn't find it funny that her three students nearly gotten hurt by a misstep, but she saw Harry found it amusing so she kept silent.

"I'm proud of you, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly.

Harry felt his cheeks heating up at his mentor's compliment.

"You understand what all of the professors were trying to get others to realize. It was evident in your discussion with Malfoy. There's truly no evil House. Yes, Slytherin may have been clouded by the history of Tom Riddle and his supporters but Slytherin is not known for evil. Slytherin is for those of ambition and cleverness."

"I believe Mr. Malfoy will soon realize it as well. I'm also extremely proud of Mr. Longbottom and Miss Lovegood. They're both excellent friends, I must say," Dumbledore commented.

Harry sighed. "Neville and Luna. Before, I never really thought of hanging around them. They were always just people I went to school or sat at the tables with. But now…they're becoming my closest friends."

Dumbledore nodded.

"What about Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger?"

"Um...:" Harry shifted in his seat.

"A fight, I assume? Do not fret. I'm sure it will be over. Your love for Miss Granger will not destroy the friendship you had created with her and Mr. Weasley."

Harry nodded absentmindedly, but then realized what Dumbledore had said. "What? But--"

The old wizard waved a hand. "Nevermind, nevermind, Harry. Now, I think it's a bit late. I believe you have an...essay due tomorrow..." He pointedly stared at Harry's paper, which was covered with doodles.

Harry turned beet red and scrambled to pack up his things. "Right...er, goodnight Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall."

And he rushed out of the room without a response.

Minerva and Dumbledore both chuckled once the door closed.

As the week passed, Harry found himself getting closer to Neville and Luna. He decided they were an alright pair, nearly as fun as Ron and Hermione used to be. A Club didn't really have official meetings like in the beginning but for Harry, it was everyday. He hung out with the two every chance he got, partly because he wanted to avoid Ron and Hermione and partly because he enjoyed being around the club members.

Neville became more assured it seemed and it was a bit unfortunate that no one else knew the real Neville Longbottom. Luna was an odd girl on the outside, but if someone took the time to listen to her, she would actually make sense. She was also handy in awkward situations.

At the next informal meeting for their club, during a shared free period before dinner, Luna asked to relocate to the Room of Requirement. Shrugging, Harry said yes and followed the Ravenclaw girl to the room that changes into whatever a person wants. Luna paused at the front of the doors once passing by three times, smiling as she did so. Finally, she pushed open the doors, leading Harry and Neville into the most unexpected layout for a room.

The room was just as big as the room they used for D.A. last year but instead of stacks of books and pillows, there were all sorts of instruments arranged in the room.

Guitars hung on the walls of the room, shining in the luminescent light. A piano was hidden in the corner, sheet music practically overflowed the bookshelves, and drum sets were lined up against the wall. There was a single raised platform with two guitars, a drum set, and microphone set up; something you'd see at a concert.

Harry had forgotten about the "band" proposal a long time ago, but Luna didn't seem offended. She looked as if she took pleasure in his and Neville's surprise.

"We never really told you this before, Luna, but me and Harry don't play any instruments," said Neville, running a hand across the top of the snare drum nearest to him.

"I'll teach you," offered Luna.

"You know how to play?" Harry was shocked to say at the least; he never met a witch who could play muggle instruments. Sure, there were bands in the wizarding world, but Harry had never met them personally.

"Oh yes, Daddy always wanted me to try every bit of life." Luna stood on her toes and grasped two guitars by their handles and handed each to Harry and Neville. "Let's see you try them; that way I can assign band roles."

The three settled themselves on the platform with Neville and Harry sitting besides each other and Luna in front of them."The instruments that you are holding are acoustic guitars. One of the most beautiful, in my opinion."

Harry gazed down at his guitar which was light-weight and found that he could agree with Luna. His had a simple color of brown but it shone with newness.

"Let's start with the parts of your classical guitar," said Luna,

Neville piped with, "I thought this was acoustic."

"Classical is a type of acoustic guitar," she explained calmly.

The boy blushed, "Oh."

"That's alright. Now, the top part is called a neck. On top of the neck is the headstock and it sustains the pegs used for tuning the guitar to the correct pitch. The neck is divided by frets which mark the position of the notes. A heel fastens the neck to the rest of the guitar. The bridge," Luna moved her hand down to the black box on Harry's guitar, "is a piece that supports the strings connected on the neck. The hollow wooden body of this guitar acts as an amplifier."

Luna hefted her own guitar into position. Harry took note how serious his friend seemed as she instructed them.

"And then the strings. This particular guitar has six strings but there are also ones with four, seven, eight, ten, and twelve. They're in this order: High E, B, G, D, A, Low F. High E is the thinnest and Low F is the thickest, just to be clear."

"I'm going to play some notes and you guys will copy me."

Luna did so and then waited patiently for the others to play.

Harry's finger clumsily plucked the fattest string since he was kind of sure that she had played the same thing. The result didn't sound as beautiful as Luna had played. The same occurred with Neville.

"Okay. You guys will not play the guitar," Luna declared, putting away the guitars.

As his guitar was taken away from him, Neville spluttered, "But--"

"I can tell whether or not someone has the talent for a certain instrument and you, Neville, do not," the Ravenclaw said but meaning no offence. Harry gave his friend a sympathetic smile. Neville frowned but didn't say anything else as he followed her to the drum sets. He and Harry took a seat and prepared for the next test.

"A drum set or kit. Something you guys have probably heard about. It has a bass drum, a floor tom, a snare, toms, a hi-hat, a crash cymbal, and a ride cymbal. And in your hands are drum sticks.

"Easy enough," Harry muttered, looking at the wooden sticks as if they were difficult challenges.

"Never say that," Luna suddenly said to him, scaring him a bit. "Drumming is quiet hard. A drummer of a band keeps the beat, something that the guitarists and vocalist count on. We will start with a simple four count. One...two...three...four."

She demonstrated by striking the globular crash cymbal with her right hand stick. The two young men followed her example and fortunately, without incident.

Luna nodded, "So far so good."

"Now I will add an off-beat. The off-beats in the next example will be the second and fourth beats."

Luna placed the tip of her right stick on the cymbal like before and the left on the right tom-tom that was nearest to the cymbal. She used common time as the time signature, playing the cymbal mechanically. But then, she changed the pattern. Instead of striking the cymbal four times, she played the cymbal once and then the tom-tom, alternating between the two.

"The trick is to keep a steady beat in your head. Close your eyes,"

What, Harry thought but then he still obliged. He heard Luna sliding off her seat and making her way to where Neville and he were seated. Softly, she began to speak sotto voce, counting the beats.

"One...two...three...four...one...two...three...four-keep that exact beat in your mind and play what I had played before. You want to feel the beat, feel the time, and feel the groove."

Harry started off pretty confident but in one moment, it was if his numbers tilted and twirled. His mind became jumbled, losing his count. He forgot what number and quickly switched hands. He lost it.

He expected Neville to do the same, but he did not hear silence when he put down his sticks. There was a steady beat coming from his right. From Neville.

Well, what do you know, Harry thought, awed by how easily Neville was keeping up the beat.

Luna began to count along, pushing the tempo, but Neville did not admit defeat. He followed the exact tempos with preciseness. Harry didn't think Neville was even aware of it.

When Neville opened his eyes, he reacted, gazing down at his hands. Luna grinned and gave a pat to Neville's head.

"I declare you the drummer of Grivenclarin,"

"Please tell me that is not our band name," Harry said in horror. Neville was still in shock; he didn't appear to be listening.

"Why not?"

"That sounds like drug prescription! We are not using it."

Rather then responding, Luna stared at Harry.

"What?"

"I think we will make you the lead vocalist," she said, pointing deliberately at the boy. Harry jerked away at her sudden notion.

"WHAT?" Harry repeated but louder.

"Can you sing?"

"No!"

Luna looked away, sighing melodramatically. "Well, I'm tired. I think we should go to dinner. I'll hear you another time, Harry."

"Me-a singer!" Harry continued to mutter while Neville was still grinning. "More attention...Great!"

"Well, you would be a good lead singer," commented his friend.

"Eh?"

"I mean-if you can sing, that is. What I mean is that you are a great leader in general. That's why Dumbledore's Army was so successful. You were a good leader, a good teacher," explained Neville, looking ahead.

Harry turned his head to look at his friend. "You know...you were pretty good back there. I didn't know you could play the drums so well."

"Me neither. I was surprised. It felt good though, to play it,"

Harry grinned, patting him on the back. "Luna was right before. She could definitely tell if a person has talent."

Neville shook his head, laughing too. "That Luna sure is something. But I like her. She's a nice person."

Harry chuckled, agreeing, "A bit crazy...but a good person."

As Harry sat with Neville, he risked a glance at his former friends.

Former...

Sometimes he missed both Ron and Hermione. Even though he was dating the girl Harry loved, Ron was still the first person he ever made friends with. And Hermione…Harry could never hate her. During their study periods in the library, there were times where Neville and Luna had to nudge him to stop him from staring at his best friends.

Hermione and Ron didn't seem to care. They stopped trying to get through to Harry and seemed satisfied with being the "Golden Duo". Blissfully going on with their lives as if Harry Potter never existed. Yeah, he knew the two were still together and it angered Harry to no end. They probably forgot about me already, Harry bitterly would think occasionally.

But Harry wasn't watching as closely as he should.

Hermione would frequently watch the new Golden trio from across the courtyard as they were doing homework together. She would ask around about Luna and whether or not she was dating Harry. The other's answers were always confused and some asked Hermione, "why don't you ask him yourself?!?"

Hermione was an emotional girl. Sure, she didn't cry very often in public but when she was left alone, she bawled. She was scared, scared that her friendship with Harry was forever ruined by a single question.

Harry didn't verbally answer when she asked if he had a problem with them.

His hurried escape answered her question.

Hermione Granger was not naïve. She wasn't blind. Perhaps she was a temporary blind, for two months but now, everything was clear.

Now that she had broken up with Ron, she understood.

Harry does not-never did-want his best friends dating. But he still stuck it out for two months, not even bothering to tell his friends about his feelings.

No wonder he never liked going to Hogsmeade or studying with Hermione and Ron.

No wonder he hung out with Luna.

And what did Luna have to do with this? Was she just some random girl Harry decided to befriend? Hermione never knew that her friend and the young Ravenclaw talked-actually talked.

He probably talked about Hermione and Ron. Probably told Luna Lovegood about how annoying the pair was. How he didn't like them anymore.

The thought of Harry hating her nearly made her burst into tears again.

Groaning, Hermione let her head fall into her hands as she sat on her bed one morning. She had a dream about the other night after Harry had left for his dormitory.

Ron sat in stunned silence, eyes widely staring at the spot where Harry had stood before sprinting up the stairs. He rotated his torso so that he could look at Hermione.

She appeared to be in shock as she still didn't move from her spot.

"We're losing him, Ron," she said weakly through her tears.

Ron shook his head. "No we're not. He's just…"

"What can it be?" she whispered quietly.

Hermione gazed, unfocused, at the boy's dormitory stairs. Her body swayed as if her feet could no longer support her. Hastily, Ron showed her to her favorite chair by the fireplace.

She nibbled on her bottom lip, wringing her hands together in a nervous habit. "It's us," she decided. Hermione looked expectantly at her friend as if he were to agree. "He's been running away from our relationship."

"Wha…" Ron spluttered, "Why would he do that?"

"I think…I think he doesn't want us to be together."

"You want to give us up…for him?" There it was. The jealousy that lived inside Ron for three years began to stir. He thought he had gotten over it after fourth year, but no, jealousy was only hibernating."Always him, right?"

He expected his girlfriend-now ex-girlfriend-to yell at him, "Harry's not as fortunate as you," or "stop being prat," or her usual nagging.

Hermione looked at him oddly in turn, her eyes unbelievable and disappointed. "You…just don't understand. You will never understand, Ronald."

With that, she turned around and left Ron standing in the middle of the Common Room, mouth left slightly open.

That morning, Lavender and Parvati were smart enough to keep their distance and had already headed down to breakfast. She had been glad that no one was there to ask her, "what's wrong, Hermy?"

"Why did you not tell me, Harry?" Hermione had whispered out loud.

Draco always thought Professor Dumbledore was a crazy bastard. No one was that happy all the time. His beard looked ridiculous. And his clothing…insane!

His image was not helped when Dumbledore strolled into the Slytherin Common Room. Draco, who was lounging on the loveseat closest to the fireplace, put down his book that he was reading to pass time and sat up. The headmaster headed towards the lounge and fragilely sat himself on the single seat across from him.

Draco looked around and saw the other Slytherins shooting the both of them disgusted looks. Dumbledore, the old cook, was in their common room.

"Professor Dumbledore," mumbled Draco with his head down to avoid the others' gazes.

"Draco, my boy. I would like to talk to you but it seems your friends want to join too." Dumbledore turned around and smiled at his pupils which caused some of them to grimace. Still, the students twisted around and headed up the stairs. The headmaster pulled out his wand and gave it a twirl.

"Can you join me in my office?"

Draco had no choice but to agree.

The walk to the Headmaster's office was an awkward one. Draco had never been alone with a professor. To make it worse, Dumbledore was whistling.

Finally, they came upon the gargoyle that guarded the stairs up to Dumbledore's office. He nodded and suddenly, the stairs were twirling and carrying Draco up.

Draco stopped dead in his trail once his eyes set upon the figure in the chair.

"Mum?" The boy asked, confused.

"Draco," Narcissa smiled wanly.

Dumbledore got up and bowed to Narcissa. "I will leave you alone with your son, dear Narcissa." He saluted slightly to Draco and exited the room.

An uncomfortable silence fell between mother and son.

"Mother, what are you doing here?" Draco finally inquired. He was a bit annoyed that there were portraits who could easily listen in on whatever he was to discuss with his mother. Noticing one odd looking poser, he glared at him with challenge in his eyes. The person in the painting harrumphed and glanced the other way.

Narcissa stood from her chair. "I'm here to speak about your father, Draco."

Draco did not want to hear anymore ratiocination about his father. He got it from Potter already; his mother's wasn't needed.

"I don't want to--"

"Listen!"

Draco looked shocked. It wasn't often that his mother raised her voice to him. "You will want to interrupt but please hear me out."

Baffled, her son took a seat.

"When I met your father, he was what a Slytherin was. Confident, audacious, and ambitious. I fell in love with him on the first day that we crossed paths, when I was a fifth year and he a sixth. Lucius was...different. His morals were snobbish and sometimes evil but there was still something human inside, I knew. His friends soon took a dislike to other Houses. Namely Gryffindor."

"The hate for that one house was multiplied because of the amount of Muggleborns in Gryffindor. Voldemort was gathering his supporters during that time and...I knew Lucius was one of them. Once we graduated, he and I married, but I realized that our relationship would never be the same as in school. He was becoming more involved with the activities of Voldemort's followers. Kidnappings, attacks...I knew but I still stayed. I loved him,"

Narcissa was now crying.

"He became a wretched man. Evil and unpleasant. I was...scared. When I had you I was afraid for your life, Draco. I thought, 'Will Draco turn out like his father?' "

"Your father changed! Do you know why I left him? Do you understand why I did so even though it is a taboo in wizarding terms?" Narcissa questioned fractiously.

Draco answered with a shake of his head. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't think.

Narcissa sucked in a shuddering breath. "Your father hurt us. Hurt me in a ways that I…I just couldn't take it anymore! He doesn't care about us. And do you know what he wanted to do to you?"

Draco shook his head again.

"He wanted to give you to Lord Voldemort so that you would become a Death Eater too!" His mother was crying harder. "GIVE you. Just like that. I couldn't let him corrupt you into his ways. You're my son, Draco. Becoming a Death Eater…will take you away from me!"

Narcissa got up from her seat and kneeled down in front of her son, earnestly taking his hands into hers. Draco shifted uncomfortably. His mum was never this touchy feeling--not since he was young. They still had a good relationship only without physical affection between mother and son.

But when he looked at his mother closer, he forgot about his nervousness.

She had a death grip on his hands and was trying hold back her tears.

"I never want you to be like him. Like your father. Never, understand Draco?"

Neville sighed.

He was doing it again.

The person next to him nudged Harry hard at his ribs and Harry jerked away, glaring at Neville Longbottom. But Neville was pointing at something with a bun in the very same hand. Harry followed the finger and realized he was pointing at the Ravenclaw table.

Then Harry saw why.

A disgusting boy, someone younger than Harry, was dangling the Quibbler over Luna's head. His friends joined in on the fun and were snickering. Luna did nothing but merely stared at her lap where her hands were curled in fists. Harry could tell that Luna was upset. She was sitting too rigid.

It wasn't a surprise that no one noticed.

It was common for Luna Lovegood to be bullied unmercifully.

The boy turned to a page and showed his buddies, laughing mockingly. Harry couldn't take it anymore and stood up abruptly.

The whole Great Hall froze.

It was not because Harry had suddenly slammed his fist onto the Gryffindor table.

It was not because Neville had done the same.

It was someone at the Slytherin table.

Draco Malfoy walked in a predator's prowling gait, eyes focused on the Ravenclaw bully. He ignored the gapes and whispers as he passed his former friends or the other students. The bully gazed up-Draco was much taller-now loosely holding the Quibbler in his hands.

With a gaze that could melt a mountain, Draco extended his palm, flicking his fingers in a "give it here" manner.

Wordlessly, the boy shakily handed the Quibbler. Draco snatched it away and rolled it up. Without taking his eyes off the boy, he extended his hand again but in Luna's direction.

Luna blinked, still not showing any physical reaction.

"C'mon, Luna," muttered Draco. Instantly, Luna rose from and gave him her hand. Like a gentleman, Draco helped her over the bench and they walked to the entrance, seemingly leaving.

Draco suddenly stopped and turned his head a bit to the right in the direction of Gryffindor table.

Harry knew this was a calling to him and nodded at Neville, who already had his book bag with him.

The two Gryffindors left the room with the Slytherin and Ravenclaw, leaving the Great Hall stunned at what was just witnessed.

Outside:

"You called me Luna," Luna said in a voice of wonderment. Draco, noticing that he was still holding he hand, dropped it and stepped back.

"No I didn't, Loony," he stubbornly answered.

Luna suddenly smiled and ruffled his hair with her hand. "Thank you, Drakey."

Harry couldn't help but laugh as Neville disguised his in a nasty coughing fit.

Draco, oddly, blushed and scowled at the name, but he didn't say anything back.

Harry stopped laughing but still had a small smile on his face.

The three male members of A Club lapsed into an awkward silence. To make things much more comfortable, Luna began to hum a nameless tune.

"It was either this or an extending awkward silence," she explained when three pairs of eyes turned on her. Neville chuckled and Harry nodded, amused.

Draco looked away.

Why did I just do that?

Welp, this is sort of like a late Christmas gift to everyone. This was originally 5 pages in the morning and the final product was thirteen pages. I was randomly inspired (and I forgot what had inspired me exactly).

What did you guys think? I feel as if I rushed a little but I always think so…

Also, check out my newest one-shot that was also randomly cooked up, No More Weird Guys. I think the title was the reason for so many reviews; I like it very much.

Have a nice winter break!

Le

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