A Club

Viopathartic

Rating: PG
Genres: Drama, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 14/07/2007
Last Updated: 07/12/2009
Status: in_progress

“A club, Harry?” asked Minerva McGonagall with an eyebrow raised skeptically. Harry nodded. “And what is this club?” Harry shrugged. “You don’t know?” Harry nodded. “Why?” There was no point in hiding the truth. “Because…I’m bored.” After his godfather's murder, Harry is compelled to form a club. What kind of club? He's not exactly sure. But he never expected three certain people to come to the first meeting. Join Harry Potter as his club overcomes the barriers of rival houses and form friendships among the most unlikely people. And see how he deals with Hermione dating Ron. Not neccessarily Portkey pairings but there WILL be Harry/Hermione.

Chapters

1. Chapter 1

2. Chapter 2

3. Finding a way

4. Chapter 4

5. Sirius' Will

6. Yay!

7. untitled

8. untitled

1. Chapter 1

A Club

Viopathartic

I wrote this in a short time and can’t believe I had the will to come up with it. This will certainly be different from everything I have written before. This takes place in 6th year and as you may have realized, it’s a different take on how Harry would deal with his godfather’s death.

I really hope you enjoy it and wait for the next chapter.

Harry found himself disliking Hogwarts as weeks went on in the term. Usually he would be ecstatic. Hogwarts was his home—his sanctuary where the Dursleys were out of reach and where he could be around friends.

But he and his friends were quickly approaching adolescent years and that complicated life even more.

So, on one of his late night walks—and late meaning the time being one in the morning—he decided to stop by the one place that he was hesitant to go to. Initially he had arrived at the Headmaster’s office purely out of guilt. During the summer, Harry had to time to reflect on his behavior at the end of fifth year. He completely disrespected the closest person he had to a grandfather or mentor and probably destroyed half of his prized possessions. He overreacted after the realization that his godfather was dead, and Harry actually felt angered that Dumbledore never mentioned it again once he had returned to Hogwarts.

He didn’t want explanations really—he only wanted Dumbledore to see him. See how miserable he was.

But then, his rational side came over him. Showing at his office at this time!

Instantly, Harry took one last look at the door guarded by the gargoyles and turned around.

The next time, however, his logical side had fallen asleep.

Harry remembered his first time at the office in his sixth year. It was after Ron asked Hermione out on a date and she said yes. He left after that; the sight of them together, even though they were his best friends, was oddly disconcerting. Sometimes he would think that they were too young to “date” but then would be horrified how he could act like such a…well, such an adult. Sometimes he would say to himself that it won’t last long; they were only 15 or sixteen! Sometimes, he would say that he should be the one dating her and every look at them together made him want to hurt someone.

His Transfiguration professor and Head of his House, Gryffindor, was, as usual, accompanying her friend in the office. Harry was shocked to find that her office was also magically connected to Dumbledore’s. It only took a magical barrier and invisible wall to cover that fact up.

At first the professors (perhaps Minerva more than Albus) were shocked. A student, wandering the castle without a care of being caught, and then voluntarily ended up at the Headmaster’s office! Such an odd thing to see these days. But then Albus would just give his student one glance and return to signing his parchments or something else.

McGonagall and Dumbledore were also worried about his academics—how could he manage his homework when he barely gets any sleep? But the lack of sleep didn’t seem to affect the boy much other than his appearance. In fact, his lack of sleep brought a sudden improvement in his work. Not brilliant as in “Hermione Granger” brilliant but enough for teachers to raise eyebrows.

He visited them maybe once or twice a month, but that soon turned to once a week and then, every day of the week.

Soon Harry would come to the office based on the fact that he actually liked being in the office.

Harry would use the password of some sort of candy (Minerva constantly tells her colleague to change it for it was too impractical but the white bearded would simply answer, “Exactly.”) and step in as if he had been summoned to the office. He’d then take eight steps to the right and sit in the chair that was, by now, his.

He never talked at first—but then again, McGonagall was a bit used to it. Harry was never quite the same ever since his godfather had died on that faithful night in the Department of Mysteries. Never the same after he left Dumbledore’s office, fuming and hands clenched in fist. Then, Dumbledore relayed the prophecy and Minerva understood.

He also mentioned such things involving Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. Minerva never thought of the two to be a good pair and agreed as to why Harry may enjoy finding refuge here. Having them together must be such a pain with all of their childish bickering! But Dumbledore shook his head when she said she understood. He didn’t say anything, of course—something that Minerva had gotten used to. As the school year came to its second month, as curious Minerva observed, she learned that Miss Granger had captured the heart of another person besides a red-headed Weasley.

After awhile, Dumbledore would ask Harry to help around in the office. Things such as correcting paper or fixing a slanted portrait kept Harry occupied and satisfied.

It wasn’t necessary for Minerva to be there, really. In yet, the witch always found herself in her friend’s office, waiting for the boy to arrive.

One night, the two made a discovery about the boy.

“Nightmares? Of Voldemort?” Albus asked, the twinkle gone from his eye and seriousness replacing it.

“No. Just of Sirius…dying,” answered Harry, not letting his eyes meet his teacher’s. Telling them about his dreams was already hard enough to admit; he didn’t want them prying anymore. He nearly let out a breath of relief when Dumbledore merely gave him a look and then leant back in his chair.

“Have you gone to Madam Pomfrey?” asked Minerva, concern written on her face. Harry nodded and explained that she had tried to give him one of the dreamless potions, but he would still have flashes.

“It doesn’t scare me, really,” he assured his Transfiguration teacher. “It just makes me miss him even more.” He avoided their looks of sympathy and twiddled his thumbs in a way that reminded Minerva of Albus’ habit of boredom.

“But that’s horrible. A boy like yourself should at least get one night of rest!”

“I do get some sleep, but only when I come here.”

The two professors decided they didn’t mind anymore.

The next night, Harry was finishing up a Potions essay in the presence of his familiar friends as he called them.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you never come to breakfast anymore, Harry,” said Minerva as she corrected her students’ papers from Period 4.

“Sometimes I eat with the house elves but sometimes I just sleep in,” he murmured. He wasn’t trying to come off as being rude but he could tell his teacher wanted to hear more.

McGonagall remained unfazed. “You’re drifting apart from Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley.”

Harry stopped writing but didn’t look up. The witch knew she probably shouldn’t say anything else.

“That’s not good, Harry. You and those two have a special bond that shouldn’t be ignored,” advised Dumbledore reverently. He was behind his desk with a hand stroking the feathers of Fawkes, his Phoenix.

“I’m not ignoring them. It’s just—” the boy sighed, ruffling his hair with his free hand. James Potter, the two professors thought at the same time. “I don’t really feel like…facing them right now.”

“You mean tell them of the prophecy?”

Harry nodded.

“I suppose you aren’t ready at the moment, but when you are, you must. Having their support will help you, Harry. I cannot stress the significance of your relationship with Ron and Hermione, but you probably have some sort of understanding on this point, am I correct?” Dumbledore asked as he peered at his student through his moon shaped spectacles.

Harry blinked and nodded again. For a moment, silence fell around the room.

“Professor?” he asked in a hesitant voice. Both of the teachers looked up from their work.

“I was wondering…well, can I form some sort of …club?”

It had been on his mind since last week. He hadn’t been very social with his other classmate and always felt left out whenever they would discuss an event that occurred in their “group” or club. It was like being the third wheel in Hermione and Ron’s relationship but instead of lasting five or ten minutes, it was all the time. Harry didn’t want to feel that way anymore. Plus, doing nothing besides homework and moping was extremely boring, and he didn’t want to make it a habit.

“A club, Harry?” asked Minerva McGonagall with an eyebrow raised skeptically.

Harry nodded.

“And what is this club?”

Harry shrugged.

“You don’t know?”

Harry nodded.

“Why?”

There was no point in hiding the truth. “Because…I’m bored.”

The Headmistress could no longer comprehend what her student (one of her favorites now, she quietly admitted) meant by forming a…club.

“Will it be dangerous?”

Harry shook his head, fighting the shiver that suddenly came. He wanted danger to be far away. D.A was a bit too much for him; he just wanted to start small.

Minerva and Albus exchanged a glance before the Headmaster leant forward with his hands steepled and elbows on the desk. “I suppose…it’ll be fine with us.”

Harry gave a small smile at their permission. Biding them a goodnight, he packed his bags and hurried off to his dormitory.

The next morning, Harry felt oddly rejuvenated even though he only had hours of sleep. He even woke up before Hermione, which was a bit suspicious to him. She was usually up by now. But then again, maybe she spent a late night with Ron or something, Harry thought with a bitter edge.

In his hands, he had a single piece of paper in which he would pin up on the notice board that all Houses shared.

A plump boy with his nervous hands frantically searched through his book bag as he stepped out of the Portrait Hole. He sighed in relief once he realized that he had indeed remembered his Potions homework. Snape would have killed—no, laughed and then killed him—if didn’t have it. The greasy, slimy haired professor scared him as much as spiders scared Ronald Weasley.

Someone had greeted him, but the Gryffindor only nodded before realizing he was actually noticed and somehow had actually said something to him. He would have to work with socializing more.

Nearing the Great Hall, he stopped as usual by the notice board. He was looking for anyone who needed Herbology lessons...he was quite good at it...what with it being the only thing he was good at….

The sign made his wandering eyes stop.

He didn’t know why but he stood straighter when he read the sign. He was curious and this person who had posted it certainly caught his attention. Smiling a bit while closing his bag, he turned and walked to the Great Hall for a plate of waffles.

As the sound of malicious laughter drifted away with a horde of skinny girls, a blond-haired witch with orange radish earrings cautiously came out from her corner of the Ravenclaw common room. She sighed and hugged her copy of The Quibbler closer to her chest, walking in her own airy, drifting pattern. She pretended to not notice the snickers from students as she past or the line of feet that suddenly was in her floor vision and taunting her own legs.

She made her way to the Great Hall, hoping that blueberry muffin would be saved from all of the other students but a large sign had stopped her. Two boys were already there, looking (without a doubt) for tutor sessions with an “educated” (educated meaning a girl educated in the anatomy of a human boy) girl. Once they spotted her, however, they merely smirked at her and pointed to a sign.

The odd looking boy sneered, “Looking for the Crumby Short stacks? Because it’s right there, I can see it!”

“It’s Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and they’re only located in Sweden,” she answered vaguely, looking at the boy straight in his eyes. He laughed and playfully punched his friend in the shoulder. The two walked away yelling, “She’s a loony!”

Next the sign that he said had Crumple-Horned Snorkacks was the sign that caught her attention.

The witch blinked.

The young blond wizard scowled as he saw two Mudbloods giggling their way to the Great Hall. He hated them. Father always said that they carried some sort of disease and when one of them had touched him the other day, the wizard began to think he was right.

He saw that loony witch from Ravenclaw walking away from the notice board and could only imagine what had caught her attention away from her planet. Deciding he could use a good laugh, he sauntered across the hallway, glaring at some first year boys as he did so, and stopped in front of the board.

His eyes burrowed in confusion.

Letting out a scoff of disbelief, he began to turn. Then, in a sudden change of heart, he whirled around and read the sign again.

What?

The wizard shook his head and stuck his hands in the pocket of his cloak. Absolutely ridiculous.

As he entered the Great Hall for his daily breakfast, the doors closed behind him. The corridor was now empty without students or teachers. On the notice board hung a simple piece of paper with words that had caused the loony witch from Ravenclaw to blink, the shy Gryffindor to stand straighter, and the Pureblooded Slytherin to actually consider.

It read:

A CLUB

Transfiguration classroom

Friday, November 2

7.

Please review!

2. Chapter 2

A Club

Viopathartic

A/N: This is probably the quickest update you’ve seen from me. I was just compelled to write the second chapter and couldn’t stop. Please enjoy!

Harry and Ron were chatting about Quidditch while Hermione walked ahead, mentally ticking off her checklist of necessary items for the day.

“Hey Hermione,” Ron called and he had a smile on his face as he walked to her and slid an arm around her waist. Hermione didn’t really mind as he did this but she could not help the small shock that resulted from the way he felt so close to her. Harry had stopped a while ago and was standing in front of the Hogwarts notice board.

“Harry?”

Her friend was smiling absentmindedly as he stared at a poster. Hermione has never seen him smile like that before—as if the poster held a special meaning to him, and he could only read it.

He jerked away from his trance with the smile still plastered on his face, “Wuh?”

Hermione who was curious as to what had caught his interest released herself from Ron’s hold, and stood in front of the poster.

“A Club? Transfiguration classroom, Friday, seven…isn’t this person being a bit vague?” she muttered, her eyes looking round to see if it was possible that she missed a miniature line of extra information.

“Who would ever come to that? In fact, who would create the bloody club if the people reading it don’t know what it is?” Ron asked out loud. Harry suddenly turned on his friend and calmly said, “Maybe he just wants someone to come. Anyone.”

His eyes momentarily flickered to Ron’s hand that found its way on Hermione’s hip again and then to the doors of the Great Hall, which was closed.

“C’mon, we’re missing breakfast,” he beckoned, inclining his head towards the doors.

The couple exchanged a glance before following their friend into the room where all students were eating.

“So where do you want to go today? I have to stop by the pet store; Crookshanks has been needing a new toy,” said Hermione as she reached over Harry for a blueberry muffin to add to her plate of waffles. Harry closed his eyes when his nose caught a whiff of her soft vanilla scented perfume. He then opened them when he realized what he was doing and returned to filling his plate with pancakes, hoping all the while that Ron or Hermione didn’t notice. Apparently they didn’t.

“Do you want any butter?” Ron asked, eyeing the witch’s plate. Hermione glanced down and scrunched her nose.

“Butter is a bit too fattening for me.”

“Since when did you worry about your figure?”

“I’m a girl, Ronald,” Hermione answered obviously and turning to Harry, “Harry, can you—“

But he was already holding out the syrup can for her. She smiled sheepishly as she grabbed it by the handle.

“How are we going to go? It’s Friday,” said Harry, referring to her first question.

“Today’s the Hogsmeade trip, remember?”

Inwardly, Harry groaned. Today was also Hermione and Ron’s first official date. But why was she asking for him to go too? Wouldn’t she want to be with her boyfriend? Hermione must have forgotten.

“Hermione! Today’s supposed to be our first official date,” reminded Ron, astonished. Hermione blushed, quickly glancing at Harry.

“Oh. Sorry, Harry…”

Harry waved her apology away. “Never mind. I have something else to do anyway.”

“At Hogsmeade?” asked Ron, surprised.

“No, I’m staying behind at Hogwarts.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, looking at Harry with concern.

“Don’t badger the guy, Hermione. Besides we get a chance to be alone,” said Ron who waggled his eyebrows teasingly.

“Ron!” If possible, Hermione was blushing even more. Harry smiled weakly at his friends’ flirting and continued to eat, ducking his head so his eyes wouldn’t drift.

“Anyways, what are you going to do?” Ron continued after he and his girlfriend were done.

Harry shrugged as casually as he could. For some reason he didn’t want them to know about the club just yet. Maybe they’ll just leave as him wanting to stay behind to finish an assignment. Plus, they didn’t seem to like the idea (though it was vague) of “A Club” from what Harry saw at the notice board a few minutes ago.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence with the Trio while chatter and laughter surrounded them. Ravenclaws were exchanging and comparing grades with their fellow mates. One group seemed to be arguing amongst themselves on whose grade was better. Next to them was the Hufflepuffs. Harry observed some of the former D.A members that were from the House and few had noticed him and either waved or nodded.

Harry’s eyes narrowed when he saw Malfoy but soon opened in curiosity. He wasn’t sitting with Crabbe and Goyle flanked by his side like usual; in fact they seemed to have found a new boss to follow: Pansy Parkinson. They glared menacingly at Malfoy but he attempted to ignore them. Malfoy was seated at the near end of the Slytherin table, reading something. Harry raised his eyebrow at this but passed it as a friendship quarrel. It won’t last long.

“Oh, I forgot! We still have potions,” suddenly exclaimed Hermione.

Ron let out a childish whine, “Why? It’s Hogsmeade day!”

“First period only, Ronald.” Hermione said exasperatedly, rolling her eyes at Ron but smiling at Harry. He shook his head at his friend; though Ron was sixteen, he sure acted like six.

Harry stuffed the last of his breakfast in his mouth before standing up, bringing his bag with him.

“Harry, you barely ate anything!” Hermione exclaimed, noticing her friend.

“Yes I did.” Maybe you didn’t see me because you were talking to your boyfriend the whole time. Harry lifted his plates of crumbs and syrup for Hermione to see—maybe she wanted evidence.

Seeing the “evidence”, Hermione merely looked at him and gave him a small nod. Harry put down his plate and decided to wait for them to finish too. Hermione immediately followed and gave Ron a slap on the shoulder. He, in turn, gave her a disgruntled glare before quickly finishing his muffin (which was Hermione’s blueberry muffin from before).

Potions passed by pretty quickly. Neville remembered his homework, which surprised Snape—as seen by the scowl on his face instead of his usual slimy smirk. Hermione answered the correct answer but Snape didn’t reward her points—as usual. Snape despised Harry—as usual, even though he had prepared his cauldron correctly.

Soon enough, the students were rushing back to their Common Rooms to drop off their school supplies and replace them with get their coats and gloves. Harry walked in leisure on his way back, waving at some people if they waved at him. It was an automatic response even though he didn’t know half of the people.

Harry waited and decided to escort Hermione and Ron with McGonagall. All of the students were packed into the courtyard, greeting their friends and immediately splitting into groups. Ron and Hermione, who seemed a bit hesitant, branched off and began talking with Seamus and Lavender, his date.

“You still don’t have an idea for the club?” asked the Transfiguration professor after she approached her student. Harry looked at her and knew that she was curious even though she didn’t state it to him directly.

“No,” he answered. Harry noticed all of the students were looking at him expectantly, mentally telling him to leave so that McGonagall could bring them to Hogsmeade. He took a step back, signaling the conversation was done.

“Do you think anyone will come to this club?”

“I hope so.” Harry answered, truthfully.

“Good luck,” McGonagall wished him, smiling.

“Bring me back a butterbeer!” Harry exclaimed to Hermione and Ron, trying to fool them into thinking that he was alright and that he was fine with them going off, alone, on their date, to possibly flirt, hold hands, and even kiss. Of course Harry was fine with it; he was their best friend! Of course, of course…

“Sure, mate!” Ron said, putting a hand around Hermione’s waist again. Harry turned around before Hermione could smile at him.

Harry thrummed his fingernails on the mahogany desk in the empty Transfiguration room.

What was he expecting exactly? Harry didn’t put his name on the poster, because he didn’t want people coming to the meeting because of his fame.

Except, he admitted he wanted at least one person to come.

A sound.

Harry’s head turned at the noise of the movement and watched as the knob slowly twisted. It crept open and Luna Lovegood entered with her gaze on the ceiling of the room.

“Are you here for ‘A Club’?” Harry asked uncertainly.

From Luna stating a “there’s too many Warkspuckles here,” and her sneezing, Harry took it as a yes.

Harry sighed. What else did I expect? Luna found a seat on the windowsill where it gave her a clear overlooking view of the Quidditch pitch. A few students were there and flying the broomsticks around the field, playing a friendly game of “catching the snitch”.

“Harry, you’re here for the club too?” someone from behind asked. Harry whirled around and saw his so-and-so friend, Neville Longbottom, who gave him a diffident grin.

“No, actually, I was the one who created it,” said Harry as he moved into the center of the room, nervously glancing at Luna who began to hum.

“Oh,” Neville gave a tense glance at his friend and then decided to take a seat at an empty desk.

Harry looked at the clock and then at the overwhelming number of people in front of him. Luna probably wasn’t even listening.

He sighed again.

“Okay, well, you guys already know me and stuff. I was kind of bored in Hogwarts so I decided to—“

The door opened again and all three turned expectantly, anxious to see the next potential member of their so-called club.

Draco Malfoy appeared before them.

Neville nervously turned his head, Luna went back to her Quibbler, and Harry glared at the newcomer. This was probably a mistake. What was he doing here? He must have wanted to mess up the meeting or something and that was why he came to the Transfiguration classroom at 7:12.

“What are you doing here?” Malfoy demanded, eyes glaring at Harry with the upmost contempt.

“A club,” Harry replied simply but coldly as he tried to keep his temper in check. Seeing him reminded Harry of Lucius Malfoy, the evil Death Eater for Voldemort. He was there on the night of Sirius’ death. He was fighting alongside Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who had murdered his beloved godfather. Everyone related to Lucius Malfoy was evil.

He already knew that Malfoy was just like his father. He’ll probably become one of them in the future. And he’ll probably be killed by Harry himself when he will be able to fight.

For a moment, shock appeared in Malfoy’s gray eyes but was soon replaced by its usual disdain towards Harry and his friends.

“And them?” Malfoy asked, referring to Luna at the windowsill and Neville, who was looking at the floor.

“They’re here for the club.”

“Now where is this idiotic person who created it?” Harry hated his enemy’s arrogant tone and resisted the urge to punch him.

“Harry here,” answered Luna, who actually placed her father’s newspaper on the window sill, hopping down to the floor. Neville stood up as well and took the left side of Harry while Luna stepped to the right.

Malfoy didn’t say anything so Harry decided to go for it, “And you? Why are you here?”

“I needed to practice some spells.” Malfoy replied but Harry could already tell the Slytherin was covering up the truth.

“Okay,” said Harry and he turned to take a seat on top of McGonagall’s (if she was here) desk. Everyone else returned to their seats. “Then you should leave. Only people who want to be in the club are allowed in here.”

“That’s not fair, Potter,” growled Malfoy, a hand on his wand pocket. Harry noticed this moment, and his jaw clenched in annoyance.

“You’re the one who’s gonna cause the trouble so it’d be better for us if you leave.”

“We were here first,” nervously inputted Neville. He gulped when the Slytherin glared back at him.

Malfoy stared at the people in front of him. They were the three out of five people he loathed the most. And now they seem to be ignoring him.

This wasn’t the same Harry Potter he had seen back in fifth year. The boy always caught on to Malfoy’s teasing and taunting and he would have hexed him by now. Instead, this Harry Potter ignored him as if he was…nothing.

“…so, I created this club because I was pretty much bored,” the leader answered, his eyes switching between Luna and Neville, deliberately avoiding Malfoy’s. “I guess that’s my reason. How about you twos’? Why did you guys join??”

“I wanted to belong to something. Like I did in D.A,” Luna answered bluntly.

Harry couldn’t say anything to that. A small feeling of pity swept through his body in response to Luna’s frank statement. Other Ravenclaws probably teased the poor 5th year all the time and they didn’t even know how, disregarding her oddness, she could be a very nice and empathetic person. She was the one who talked to him after Sirius’ death, and she managed to cheer him up just a little.

Harry nodded at her and gave his attention to Neville.

“Well,” the shy Gryffindor began, “I never really joined a club so I guess I just wanted to try…”

Now Harry understood. The two just wanted to belong.

He gave them a rare smile. “If anyone has any ideas on what we should do here, then just tell me.”

No one seemed to want to say anything after their confession. In fact, Harry wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t even listening. But when he glanced at Neville, he saw the Gryffindor looking at him with acute attention.

“Pathetic! You form a club and you don’t even know what it’s gonna be about?”

Harry turned to look at Malfoy again and only pure hatred was in his emerald eyes. “Leave or stay quiet.”

Malfoy scowled and not caring if he stayed or left, Harry addressed the two members of his club.

“When do you guys want to meet?”

“Every day is fine with me, Harry.” Luna stated dreamily, not even looking at him but rather at the sky outside. He turned his eyes on Neville who shrugged his answer. Harry hesitated before deciding he might as well ask Malfoy.

The Slytherin had already left and the only reminder of his presence was the entrance door softly shutting.

“Okay then. The beginnings of ‘A Club” has begun,” whispered Harry.

I posted this early because I’m going to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix tonight with some of my friends! I can’t wait!!!

Leave some reviews and if you’ve seen HP 5, tell me about it!

Viopathartic <3

3. Finding a way

A Club

Viopathartic

“Harry, wait!”

He turned to find Hermione chasing after him. She wasn't dressed particularly different for her date, but Harry could observe traces of mascara and a bit of lip gloss, which was probably applied by Lavender or Parvati, her roommates. Her scarf and hair was flowing behind as she jogged to his spot. He waited for her to approach the portrait before holding the door for her.

"Thanks.”

Maybe the date was a disaster, he thought hopefully.

Harry shook his head at his thoughts and followed her to the area by the fireplace. The Gryffindor Common Room was relatively empty; after a day in Hogsmeade most of the students were completely exhausted and headed to the bed straight away. Only a few of the more studious Gryffindors remained downstairs and were hastily finishing some last assignments so that they wouldn't have any to do on their weekends. Harry had already done his and before Hermione had returned, he thought of turning in himself.

The two sat in their respective chairs and Hermione sighed, barring Harry from containing his curiosity any longer.

"So...how was the date?" Harry mentally cringed. Why that question?

“It was…fine,” muttered Hermione, moodily. She pulled off her gloves and forcefully placed them on top of her lap. She blew an errant string of her hair and glared mutinously at him. Harry raised an eyebrow. “Alright. It was absolutely horrid!”

“Really?” Hermione noticed the flat tone in her best friend’s voice.

“You know, I would think on a first date the boy and girl would be nice with each other; polite! You wouldn’t want to upset your date if you want to have a second one with them. They wouldn’t argue and get on each others’ nerves!”

“But you and Ron did exactly that,” finished Harry. Hermione nodded miserably. “About what?”

“Something so trivial! Ron was chewing with his mouth open—you know how I despise that—and so, I told him to shut his mouth,” she sighed, “and then he went off to tell me he didn’t need to be told what to do and that I’m not his mum and—Merlin, Ron just drives me crazy.”

Harry was about to ask, “Then why are you dating him,” but apparently Hermione already knew his question.

“I don’t know why I’m dating him. I like him—I know that. But is it worth it?” Hermione turned to him, desperately asking, “Do you think I should break up with him?”

Harry was shocked to hear her asking him that question. He would have said yes if he wasn’t such close friends with Hermione and Ron. He would have jumped up and yelled it, in fact, right before taking her in his arms and snogging the wind out of her.

Instead, he chose a safe answer. “I don’t really think I should answer that.”

Hermione sighed, “You’re right. I should’ve asked that. It’s just so frustrating, I—“

Both of them turned to see Ron trotting passed him with his head down. Then, knowing it was useless to ignore them, he backtracked and swiftly turned to face them. Or more like Hermione, Harry thought, staring at Ron as he sat himself next to Harry.

“Hermione, I’m sorry,” he blurted, attempting to look at his girlfriend. “I overreacted and shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just got—I don’t know—tired of hearing your commands. I promise that I won’t act that way again!”

Hermione was only staring at him, astonished that Ron was actually apologizing so soon. She momentarily glanced at Harry to see what she should do. All he did was shrug in a resigned manner before turning towards the fireplace and attempt to appear as if he wasn’t listening.

“Ron, I just don’t know. I try to help you, but then you just get annoyed and go off on me!”

“And I’m sorry. I’ve should have treated you better because you’re my best friend! Well, one of them,” said Ron who decided to add the last as an afterthought. “And now, I’m your boyfriend so I’ll do anything to change! I want you and me to work.”

Hermione looked as if she was about to correct Ron for his incorrect use of grammar but Harry knew she was holding it back for her and her boyfriend’s sake. She was nervously wringing her hands together.

“Fine. But you really have to correct yourself. Your chewing is a bad habit. Now just go upstairs and…do your homework.”

“But Hermione—“ Harry cast Ron a death glare, mentally telling him to just abide by his girlfriend’s command and move his arse up the stairs. “Okay.”

Ron stood up, hesitating as he did so. Then, thinking that kissing Hermione on the lips while she was still pissed at him wasn’t a good idea, he swooped down and planted one to her cheek instead. She smiled feebly.

An awkward silence had fallen between Hermione and Harry once Ron had completed his “Apologize to Hermione” mission.

“Hermione, if you took his apology that easily, it’s evident that you like him no matter how much he annoys you. But you already know what I think of you and Ron,” said Harry tiredly. He stood up from his seat in hope to escape an awkward moment between him and Hermione.

“No, I don’t.” Harry froze in his steps. He should probably act like he didn’t hear what she said and walk away. Just hurry up and then make for the stairs. But in the back of his mind, he knew she didn’t deserve him deserting her again.

“What do you mean?” He remained a few feet away from Hermione and his voice reached across the room. It sounded tired and worn as if he didn’t want to deal with her now.

“You never talk to me anymore. In fact, this is probably the first time you and I had talked alone since the beginning of the term.

“Sorry,” he whispered, but he didn’t want to take the conversation any further.

“I don’t need you to apologize, Harry. I just want for us to talk again,” said Hermione, exasperatedly.

“About what?”

“How do you really feel about Ron and I? It seems like ever since the two of us got together, you’ve been spending less time with us. You’ve been different.”

Hermione finally stood up and regained her coolness. “What’s going on with you? With us?”

Harry gave a shallow laugh. “I really don’t want to talk with you about that…and I’m not the one who’s different.”

“I’m different?” She scoffed and said, “How am I different? I’m the same Hermione as last year’s Hermione.”

Harry shook his head and pointed towards the stairs. “You let Ron go without even defending yourself. You should have told him that you were only trying to help him when correcting him on his habits. It’s like you’re letting your boyfriend,” he said this in a disgustingly sweet tone, “tell you that he’s right and you’re wrong.”

“Well I don’t want another argument to start!”

“You shouldn’t be afraid of an argument. You should approach the matter before it gets worse the next time!”

“Next time? Are you doubting my relationship with Ron?”

Harry raised his hands in an obvious gesture. “What do you think?”

“You’re different,” she said in finality, “you don’t want to be around us anymore. You don’t talk to us anymore about your problems. Why is that?” She repeated.

“Because I don’t, Hermione!” Harry suddenly yelled. Her questions were tiring him and pushing his ability to disregard his feelings to the limits. “It’s already awkward talking to you because of how I feel. Maybe I’m just tired of you—“

He dropped the last words of what he was about to say. Confessing that he was tired of Hermione and Ron’s relationship would only cause more questions but right now, he didn’t want to answer any. Hermione took it the wrong way.

“Me? You’re tired of me?” Hermione asked incredulous, sounding a bit hurt in her voice. She thought he meant her, because she didn’t hear rest of his words.

“Yes. Okay? I just need some time alone. By myself. Just me.” Harry said, hoping that his voice sounded confident. He turned around and walked over to the boys’ staircase.

“Alright. Fine, Harry. Be a loner. See if I care,” Hermione muttered, pushing Harry by the shoulder with hers as she made her way to the girl’s dormitory.

Harry sighed. He really didn’t want to be fighting with her. Hermione Granger was scary when angry at someone. He extinguished the fire and headed up the stairs, hoping all the while that the silly argument between him and his best friend would be forgotten the next day.

The next morning:

“Hey,” Harry said nervously as he stood at the breakfast table. Ron glanced from his bowl of porridge and smiled at his friend. His girlfriend, however, was less pleasant.

“Harry.”

He sighed at her succinct greeting. “Hermione, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

Ron looked between his girlfriend and friend, confused. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Hermione answered, getting up from her seat. “I’m going to get some coffee. Be right back.” Giving a cold glance at Harry, she turned on her heels.

“What happened, mate?”

“I just said something to her and—“ Harry’s attention quickly diverted to a blonde boy at the Slytherin table.

Draco Malfoy was sitting alone again. What happened with him and his group? Why did they hate him? He ate his breakfast, ignoring the jeers of his former friends.

“Hey Ron?”

“Yeah.” He turned to where his friend was pointing. “Oh Malfoy. You haven’t heard?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I live in the Muggle world, remember?”

“Well it was big news a few weeks ago. His mother, Narcissa Malfoy, divorced Lucius.” Ron said this in sotto voce as if the words were secrets. Harry merely blinked at him, thinking why divorcing someone was such a big deal. Muggles did it all the time it seemed.

“Divorcing the husband in wizarding marriage is rarely heard of. The only time a wife is without a husband is when the husband dies. It’s especially dangerous for Narcissa because Lucius happens to be a,” Ron glanced around before lowering his head and gesturing for Harry to do the same. “A Death Eater.”

“Why did Narcissa divorce Lucius when she knew she could get killed?”

“I guess it’s because Lucius is going crazy. Getting too into You-Know-Who’s return. I reckon she’s afraid for Draco and herself. Draco didn’t want to go away; he wanted to stay with his father. But then his father said he already forgotten that Draco was his son. Didn’t want anything else to do with him. Now everyone in Slytherin hates him. Betrayal, you know.” Ron returned to his pancakes after finishing, leaving Harry deep in thought.

Hermione came back later and as expected, continued to pretend that Harry was invisible. He sighed after a fifth try in getting her attention and decided to attend his first period class.

Transfiguration was relatively interesting, Harry discovered. They were learning how to transfigure hairbrushes into porcupines. Other students, unlike he and Hermione, were unable to do so and ended up with hairbrushes with exaggerated quills that stuck up at all ends. Essays were passed back and he received an O: his first this week. McGonagall and he had exchanged secretive smiles; he had asked her for a little help in his introduction and she had basically written it out for him. After, the rest of the essay was easy.

Divination was a bore as always. Harry was just satisfied by staring out of the window and ignoring Ron’s audible snores. The professor, admired by Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, kept going on and on about the fortunes that would come in their future lives.

He had a free period and decided to check out the library. When he gave the large room of books a sweep with his eyes, he decided that Hermione was not here. She was still trying to avoid him. Harry sighed and momentarily thought of dropping by the headmaster’s office but decided he’ll do it at night when no one would be around. He spent the rest of the period finishing some assignments.

Harry—to avoid more awkward questions from Ron or the cold wrath of Hermione—settled on having lunch with the house elves. When he first dropped by the kitchen, the elves were wary of a wizard’s presence but they all loosened up once realizing this wizard was odd and different from their former masters or encounters with such species. Now, Dobby welcomed his friend with enthusiasm, immediately pushing Harry to a stool and encouraging his friends to bring him plates and plates of food.

He laughed when some of the elves decided to provide him entertainment by juggling impressive numbers of fruit and bewitching them to do a little dance. He observed that most of them were wearing the knitted clothes that Hermione had made last year and smiled.

Waving goodbye at his little friends and still in an odd, blissful mood, Harry set out to his Defense against the Dark Arts class. Tonks was the professor and despite her clumsiness and playful attitude, Harry found her to be an excellent teacher. She was experienced in the field due to the fact that she was also employed as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic. He learned loads of spells that he never imagined he could learn in class. Not surprisingly, Harry was the top student in her class and although Hermione secretly thought so too, she refused to admit that someone had beat her in a class.

Unfortunately, Ron had asked Harry to be his partner, leaving Hermione to partner up with Neville. Ron was horrid at nonverbal charming, and his classmates could all agree to that fact. After six tries at casting a Stunning Charm at Harry without uttering a word, Ron cast a feeble one that barely moved Harry from his standing point.

Ron dropped like a stone at Harry’s first try.

In no time, classes were over and it was time for dinner.

It was also time for Harry’s meeting. Deciding that the time might need to be changed for the future, Harry brought his plate along with him as he headed to the empty Transfiguration classroom.

Luna perched on the windowsill with her dinner plate, observing the habitat of Nargles outside of Hogwarts. She hasn’t seen any but in time they might come. It was better to wait then just give up. She heard the door opening behind her but decided the Nargles were more interesting.

“Surprise, surprise. It’s Loony Lovegood,” said Malfoy as sauntered over with hands in the pocket of his robes. She still didn’t turn around.

“Hello Draco Malfoy,” she said in return. Malfoy scowled, stopping so that he was right behind her. He followed where her eyes were gazing but saw nothing. Maybe it was one of her invisible creatures she would always rant about.

“It’s Malfoy,” he said coolly, “especially to you. Being the first to show up at the meeting five minutes early…pathetic!”

“You showed up second, Draco. What does that say about you?” Luna retorted, tranquilly. Her answer was neutral and short. When Malfoy usually said things like this to others, they would fire back with one of their own comments. But not her.

“Would you like something to eat?” Luna asked, looking all but annoyed at Malfoy’s verbal abuse. She pushed her dinner plate towards the Slytherin, and he gave a surprised look at her, and then glanced down at the plate. There was some salad, a steak, and a small bowl of vanilla pudding. Malfoy wanted to take it; he was stupid to go the Transfiguration room without heading to dinner first. But he didn’t want to show weakness to anyone—especially Loony Lovegood.

“No thanks, Loony. I rather not die of poisoning.”

“Oh. Okay,” Luna answered, not appearing to have cared. She took a small bite of her steak and smiled. “I love Hogwarts food. Don’t you?”

Malfoy shook his head and scowled. “You’re weird.” He didn’t try to hide his opinion. For a moment, something flashed in her eyes and Malfoy had to take a step backwards. Was it hurt that he just saw?

“Thank you.” Luna turned away and continued to direct her attention to the invisible Nargles.

Malfoy muttered under his breath at her odd response. He stuffed his hands back into his pocket and unconsciously let his guard down by standing besides Luna to gaze outside.

They stayed there for a few minutes. When Malfoy heard shuffling from behind, he and Luna turned around.

“Oh hey fatty,” taunted Malfoy. “Come to join Loony?”

Before Neville could utter a retort, Luna had moved from her spot at the windowsill and placed herself between Draco and her friend.

“Neville is my friend. If you hurt him with your words, I’ll be forced to do bad things to you, Draco.”

Suddenly, the dreamy, soft quality in her voice had disappeared. Malfoy allowed himself to take a look at her and found a small spark of determination and fire in her eyes. She was serious.

Luna stood up straight with her arms to her sides, her eyes wide and fierce. In an odd way, she looked normal when she was angry or on guard. Neville shot her a nervous glance before standing besides the Ravenclaw and taking a look at Malfoy. The three glared at each other.

Harry’s stepped faltered with he came upon the sight of Neville, Luna, and Draco Malfoy standing in a triangle.

“What’s going on? Neville? Luna?” His eyes glanced around the triangle. Luna turned around.

“Have you ever heard of Black triangles? It’s the name that is given to a series of Unidentified Flying Objects. Draco and Neville were kind enough to help me create the shape of it,” Luna glanced at Harry. “Interesting isn’t it?”

“Very,” he answered dryly, “Was there a problem?”

“No, I don’t think there was.” Luna glanced at Malfoy and Neville with her hands innocently clasped at her front.

Harry sighed. No one else was going to add to her response. He approached the teacher’s desk and dropped his dinner plate on top. Taking a seat, he tucked in and began to eat. Luna went over to her window sill and sat down, pulling her dinner plate closer. Neville joined her when she offered to share. Malfoy glumly sat himself at the corner of the room in his own space.

Obviously Malfoy wanted to stay, despite his apparent hatred towards Harry, Luna, and Neville, but if he throws in one more insult…

“I have a suggestion for an idea for the club, Harry.”

“Please,” he gestured to everyone, “tell us, Luna.”

“How about a friendship?”

“Er…Luna, doesn’t that sound a bit corny?” Neville asked. And impossible, because of the fact that a Slytherin is here, Harry added silently.

“No, it sounds nothing like corn. More like…strawberries and peaches.”

Harry and Neville exchanged amused glances. Malfoy continued to look at the 5th year with a crazy expression.

“Alright…what should we do in our “Friendship” club?”

Luna blinked and smiled widely. “We’ll be friends, that’s what we should do. “

“With Potter the mudblood lover and Large Longbottom? I don’t think so.”

Harry suddenly rose from his seat, hands clenched in fists by his side. He glared menacingly at Malfoy who merely sat back with a smug smile.

“Don’t you dare call Hermione a mudblood or Neville fat!”

“Who says I was taking about Beaver?” Harry didn’t answer but dared him to say one word; one thing that would make him snap and land one on Malfoy.

“I know why you formed this club, Potter. It wasn’t because you were bored or lonely. It was because Granger and Weasel didn’t want you. They’re too busy snogging each other to care about you. Seems like you’re nothing now. How does it feel…being second best to a peasant like Weasel?”

“Don’t say stuff like that, M-Malfoy!” Neville exclaimed, his voice cracking at the last word.

Malfoy stood up and withdrew his wand. “I can say whatever I want.”

“Alright! I think we should end today’s meeting.” Harry stood up as well but instead of turning his wand on Malfoy, he said, “There’s no reason why you should hex Neville. He didn’t do anything to you. If you do decide to hex him, then that’ll just show us how much of an idiot and a coward you are. We already know that so why try to prove it again?”

Malfoy gave him a look of contempt before lowering his wand. Without a word, he turned and left the room. Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Another argument was avoided.

Neville smiled, asked when the next meeting would be, and left the room. That left Luna and Harry alone. Her eyes were glued to the window again.

“That was a short meeting,” she commented.

“Yeah, well, if it last any longer, Malfoy would have caused more trouble.” Harry said, solemnly. “How far do you wanna go with the “friendship” club?”

“I was thinking of forming a band too,” said Luna, appearing to ponder the notion.

Of all the answers Harry thought Luna would give, “forming a band” was outrageously unexpected.

“Er…sure,” Harry lied. He nervously ran a hand through his hair. “But I don’t think we’re gonna last long enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I like you and Neville here because you’re my friends,” said Harry. Luna smiled at him. “It’s just Malfoy hates us but keeps coming to our meetings. It annoys me.”

They stepped outside of the Transfiguration room. There were still students walking around and talking to each other but a few gave them funny looks when Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood were sighted together.

“Yes, Draco is an odd person,” commented Luna who didn’t seem to notice Harry suppressing a smile. “But I don’t think it’s his fault that he’s so cruel and uncaring. Most of a child’s characteristics and their morals are passed down or taught by their parents. And I believe, his father, Lucius Malfoy, had brainwashed him in believing that You-Know-Who’s ways were right and that targeting people because of their blood was normal. He acts the way he is because of his father.”

Harry blinked; what Luna had just said was absolutely sane and logical—almost as if it was Hermione talking.

“Either that or Draco was born with Snertformous Disease,” stated Luna matter-of-factly.

Never mind, Harry thought wryly.

“Well, if his father never taught him the right ways, we should.”

“Should what?” Harry asked, confused.

“Teach him how to act like we act.”

“You mean—maybe,” Harry replied absentmindedly.

What could it hurt? She’s a Ravenclaw, after all.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. When I come up with a plan, I’ll come see you and you can help me,” promised Harry. He smiled at her to tell that he wasn’t kidding.

She looked up at him and smiled too. Just then, Hermione had turned around the corner, coming from the Arithmancy class where she had just met with her professor. She spotted Harry immediately. Still carrying guilt from their argument last night, she almost wanted to go up to him and apologize, but noticed he was talking to Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw.

They exchanged a few words and Hermione saw Harry smiling at Luna and vice versa. He didn’t smile that often these days and that fact that he could with a person he barely knew gave Hermione an uncomfortable feeling. She saw Luna waving a goodbye and then walking away. Hermione quickly walked away from she saw Harry coming towards her corridor.

He was too busy in his thoughts that he never noticed his friend.

Teach him how to act like we act.

Malfoy was taught of all of his life by his father. He was forced believe in what his father believed and Harry was sure that Malfoy had faced consequences when he did not. He was scared and most of all…he began to believe in the Dark beliefs.

How can they possibly change a person who doesn’t want to change? Harry could never imagine Malfoy as anything other than a snobby, conniving, and pureblood boy. Someway, somehow, Harry will have to open Malfoy’s eyes to what his father and Voldemort had done. He has to learn the truth—how Voldemort’s horrible acts left people and places destroyed.

But how? How can Harry show this? Who in all history was as evil as Voldemort? A person who killed because he didn’t certain people…a person who manipulated and scared people into committing heinous, unbearable acts. A person who thought a race to be superior to the other and had tried to separate race from race in order to “purify the soul”….

Harry suddenly halted.

I know.

Finally realizing the solution, Harry raced to the dormitories, ignoring the odd looks he was getting.

That night…

Harry paused in his steps and anxiously looked around. He felt someone watching him. Or maybe not…Harry shook his head and swung the Invisibility Cloak over his head.

The portrait door opened silently and shut in the exact manner. A few seconds passed by before a brown haired head poked around from an armchair near the fireplace. She saw Harry leave but chose not to confront him.

Quickly but quietly, Hermione rushed up the Boy’s Dormitory to wake up her boyfriend.

It took awhile; Ron was a heavy sleeper. She finally caught his attention when he pulled away his covers, hoping all the while that his roommates wouldn’t be awakened. Turns out that his roommates slept in the same manner as Ron.

She hurriedly told him about what she saw earlier and how she saw Harry sneaking out a few minutes before.

“Do you think he’d bring the Marauder’s Map?”

“Yeah, wherever he’s going, he would bring it.” Ron threw his covers back and swung his legs to the side. Hermione knelt by Harry’s trunk and frantically opened the locks. He never saw her so frenzied. When she looked in and saw the map, she let out a sigh of relief. “Or maybe not.”

Hermione whispered the password that would allow her to see the layout of Hogwarts. “Harry left the map, but not the Invisible Cloak.”

Ron put a hand on her shoulder and looked over the map. “Where’s he going?”

“T-to the Ravenclaw tower,” answered Hermione, confused. Then it came to her; Luna. She remembered their meeting a few hours ago. But why was he seeing her now?

“Why would he be there?” Ron asked, secretly annoying the witch with his questions. Hermione chose not to answer but sat herself on Harry’s bed, ignoring the boys’ protests for her to go back to her dorm.

“I-It’s Luna. He’s meeting Luna.”

Harry was currently pondering how he would notify Luna to come with him on his late night library adventure. He had his invisibility cloak with him and left the map because didn’t think he’d need it; there wasn’t anyone watching the corridors at the moment. Maybe meeting her at this time was a bad idea.

He decided it was too late to walk back so he continued in the direction of the Ravenclaw common room…and found Luna outside the portrait.

“Ah, I knew you would come,” she said as Harry slowly trotted over. “A bit late but it’s not your fault.”

“How’d you—“

“You told me that if you had a plan, you’ll come and see me. I knew you’d have one so I waited. Now off to the library, right?”

Harry was beginning to wonder what Luna was exactly, but decided it should wait till later. “Er, right.”

The two began to make their way to the library.

“What’s the plan?”

“Well, I was thinking that you were right earlier. We have to teach Malfoy about the effects of what his father and his friends are doing. So, I decided that we should research about a muggle person in Germany who was similar to Voldemort. A person who hurt people because he didn’t like “their kind” and aimed to rid the world of them. People didn’t do much to stop him because they were afraid of being killed. He started a movement to get rid of all of the people he didn’t like.”

“Adolf Hitler.” Luna stated. Harry halted in his search, a hand hovering besides the spine of a certain book. The library was quiet and empty upon their arrival and Harry immediately forgot to explain more to Luna, but she didn’t seem to mind. Suddenly, she had figured it out.

“How’d you know?” Luna was a pureblood so how could she know about the muggles’ history?

“My father—he works at The Quibbler—had some theories about him. And books about him are in the restricted section?”

Harry nodded and did not ask about the theories on Hitler. He continued to search for the books. Luna did the same as she cast her own Lumos and carried it with her like a flashlight.

The both of them found enough references and decided to move over to a table to officially start their research.

“I already know why the rest of us had joined the club. Why did you make it?” Luna asked, straightforwardly. Her gaze was too determined to ignore.

“I just wanted to.”

“I thought you said you were bored.”

Harry glanced at her before turning his attention to the book in front of him. “I was.”

Luna began to flip through the pages, casually scanning a few words before turning to the next. She sighed. “I too was surprised at Hermione and Ron getting together, you know. They’re complete opposites.”

His hand froze as Harry was flipping a page.

“You like her, don’t you, Harry?”

Luna sighed. “I used to like Ron but I was naïve back in fourth year. Now, I think he’s rather annoying actually,” she commented absentmindedly. Harry smiled at this.

“Sometimes I think that too…” muttered Harry reluctantly.

“He’s rather ugly, isn’t he?” Luna asked, holding up a book for Harry to see. Harry raised his eyebrows when he saw the still picture. “I don’t like men with mustaches. Doesn’t it tickle when they kiss?”

“I can’t imagine any one wanting to kiss a man like Hitler…although it says here that he had wife, a mistress, and was also speculated to have had a relationship with his niece…they all committed suicide.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Er…Luna, can we just research about what Hitler had done rather than his personal life? It’s too sick and perverted to hear about his romantic relationship.”

“Alright. It says here that victims of the Holocaust led by Hitler were primarily Jews but there was also homosexuals, gypsies, freemasons, Jehovah’s Witness, and the disabled and mentally ill.” Luna reported and frowned. “Nearly six million Jews were killed. More than three thousands infants were killed. Five million of the others died. More than 11 million in total…”

Harry noticed the tone of Luna’s voice and watched as her eyes were pinned on the pages and her hands were still. He reached out one of his and covered her right hand.

“Luna?”

“Compared to Voldemort, Voldemort would seem like a saint. He only killed thousands while this Hitler killed—“

“Only killed thousands…that’s still a lot, Luna. If we don’t change the perspectives of those who are on the verge of joining Voldemort, these thousands… Luna, they’ll turn into millions. Malfoy probably doesn’t even know this,” said Harry.

Luna nodded and Harry finally released her hand. They continued their research in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence like Harry would have expected. Luna was actually really nice and funny when you got her alone.

Harry wondered for a moment if he would ever develop feelings for the blonde witch. She was only a year younger and he got along with her pretty well. Then an uncomfortable feeling settled at the bottom of his stomach. No, Harry knew he would never see Luna as anything more than a little sister.

Besides…she wasn’t Hermione Granger.

4. Chapter 4

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.

5. Sirius' Will

A Club

Viopathartic

A/N: I know haven't really discussed the matter with Sirius Black. This chapter will deal a bit on it.

This is unbetaed...right now. I'm sorry but I won't be very free for the next weeks so I thought I'd let you have something.

Chapter 5:

For the first time in months, Harry overslept.

As he rushed through his shower, quickly dressed in his uniforms, and ran down the stairs to the Gryffindor Room, memories from his meeting with Dumbledore and McGonagall played through his mind.

After the dinner with Hermione throwing confused looks over at him as he ate his sandwich and Ron throwing looks at Hermione, Harry wished his friends a quick goodnight and left the Great Hall. Luna and Neville had gotten the message that there won't be any meetings for their club for awhile. He was a bit sad, yes, that the meetings were delayed.

Even through a few meetings, the two students had provided him with comfort and companionship. He was glad for that. But for some reason, it felt wrong to continue A Club without Mal--Draco. Even though Ma...Draco never spoken about his membership in A Club, he still came to the meetings which clearly stated that he wanted to be a member. Harry had to admit that he spent so much time worrying about Malfoy's comments that the real purpose of A Club was still a bit unclear. Harry had no idea on what they would do in the meetings.

Luna said friendship and the possibility of forming a band...Harry never expected that. To form a friendship with his enemy of 4 years seemed completely impossible. Would they be able to forget everything that happened in the past and start a friendship from scratch and without prior judgment? Harry couldn't fathom the idea of starting a band either...what was Luna thinking?

Harry mindlessly wandered the hallways, hands in his pockets as usual. A few of his fellow classmates would yell a greeting and Harry would absentmindedly answer back. Then they would go on with their other friends and Harry would continue on his walk. Alone.

He knew that Hermione was suspicious of him. She thought Harry was acting odd, but he also knew that Hermione didn't know about his part in the pictures that were seen in the Transfiguration classroom. Harry remembered how Hermione's face had paled when she saw her image stuck on a board and under the category of Mudblood. He should have taken them off, but he left so quickly after Malfoy had ran away from them that night.

He still had to finish his potions essay. It was due tomorrow and he knew Snape would never believe him if Harry explained that he accidentally spilled pumpkin juice on it. Also tomorrow, the class will pair up in partners and brew the Babbling Beverage, a potion that would have a person babble nonsense if they were unfortunate enough to drink it. Harry still had to read the chapter on it too.

Oh well, that can be done later, thought Harry as he strolled down the now familiar corridor that would lead to Dumbledore's office. It was an unconscious move on Harry's part. He didn't want to face McGonagall but he felt that he had to deal with this now. Proven correct, McGonagall was already in the office, pacing the floor with an amused Dumbledore watching his colleague.

"Potter, explain yourself," ordered McGonagall as soon as Harry stepped through the threshold. He took a seat in his usual spot and gazed at McGonagall, hoping that he had an innocent.

"The Transfiguration chalkboard! Harry," she said, using his first name in the rare occasion, "I agreed to let you have the room for your meeting but what you are doing...putting up such horrific images. It is time for you to tell me the true purpose of the club!"

"Those pictures," Harry began slowly, "were pictures from a Muggle catastrophe called the Holocaust."

"Yes, yes, I am aware," said McGonagall impatiently, "but I want to know how this relates to your club!"

"I was teaching," truthfully answered Harry, using Luna's word for what they were doing with Malfoy.

Minerva suddenly went pale. That statement had caught her off guard. Teaching--teaching what? Professor Dumbledore, who was listening intently, suddenly saw the image of a young boy named Tom Riddle. How everything had gone wrong when the boy was lured into the Dark Arts.

"You put a picture of Miss Granger under the category 'Mudblood". I would never think of you to ever use such a word for your friend," commented Dumbledore. A look of horror appeared on the young Gryffindor’s face and he raised his arms in defense.

"No! I would never think of Hermione like that. I-I was teaching one of the members of my club the faults of Voldemort and I had to use those words so that I can show him."

"Him?" Dumbledore inquired after sharing a glance with Minerva, whose color had returned to her complexion.

Harry hesitated. "Draco Malfoy. He's one the members along with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom."

"Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood...and Draco Malfoy," murmured Minerva, thinking how the club had odd membership.

"Mr. Malfoy. That's quite unusual, Harry, for I would have thought the two of you to be enemies," commented Dumbledore who now smiling.

"We are...were..." answered a bewildered Harry, "Me and Luna thought up the idea because Malfoy was being a git as always and we didn't want that in our club. I didn't want that. But then Luna said that it wasn't Malfoy's fault that he was an absolute prat. She said that it was because of how he was raised...with his father being a cowardly, insane Death Eater, that is." Minerva hid a smile at Harry's description of a Death Eater.

"That is true. A person's thoughts and personality are influenced by their environment as they were growing up. Miss Lovegood is very bright for pointing that out,"

"I know," Harry quickly agreed.

"And the Holocaust was your idea?"

Harry nodded. "It was something that I learned in primary school. I only released the small similarities when I thought of it a few days ago. Luna helped me research too."

"Now it is clear that you inherited some of your mother's traits," he complimented him. Harry was a bit shocked to here that. He was always compared to looking like his father and was only commented to have Lily Potter's lush, emerald eyes. Learning that he was somewhat bright--for his mother was quite an extraordinary witch--made Harry smile slightly.

"And did your teaching work?" Minerva asked anxiously. She too thought Harry's idea to teach Malfoy again was quite unusual.

Harry slowly shook his head. "I don't think so. Mal--Draco was...well in shock kind of...we, er, fought too."

"Fought?" Minerva raised in eyebrows and Harry refused to meet her eyes. The fight between Draco and him was not discussed any further.

She turned to the Headmaster, clearing her throat. "So Albus...what do you think of this?"

"It's very good that you are willing to go through such lengths to help one of your enemies. That shows you have a heart--a very good one from what I can tell," commented Albus Dumbledore calmly. Harry nodded.

"Now that we have that matter sorted...I'm afraid we have another. It involves your godfather..."

"Oh," was all Harry could say. He spent the summer wondering when Sirius' will would come out. He hadn't thought of it since then.

"Yes. The Ministry just gave me a copy of his will and I think you'd like to see it," explained Dumbledore, watching closely for Harry's reaction. The boy was closing up again, hiding his emotions.

"Yeah. Sure."

"You probably want to read this in the presence of Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. They are mentioned in there too." The old wizard stretched out his arm and a rolled up parchment suddenly appeared in his hands. Harry reached out to take it, eyes focused on the will. The Ministry had given it...that meant they probably read it...people like Umbridge...had seen what Sirius wrote to his godson.

"I think it is getting late, Harry," Minerva said quietly, standing up from her chair. Harry nodded again and stood up as well.

He turned and walked until he reached the door.

"She says I should change too...," Harry mumbled, hand on the doorknob and with his back to his Headmaster. The other hand was gripping the piece of parchment.

"Luna said you should change what?" Albus asked curiously.

"My dislike towards Slytherins..."

Dumbledore leaned forward, steepling his hands. "Why do you dislike Slytherins?"

"Because they killed Sirius."

It seemed almost natural for Harry to say that he despised Slytherins. All Gryffindors would agree to it. It was known that the two houses were the worst enemies. Harry always thought Slytherins were no good scum.

Now, as he took the stairs that led to the dungeons, Harry realized it was the same as thinking all "mudbloods" were dirty blood. His prejudice towards Slytherins was strikingly similar to how some purebloods see Muggle-borns.

So in all senses...Harry was just like them.

He now knew that Luna was right: Not only would Malfoy have to change but Harry would too.

But his new goal was nearly ruined when he pushed the dungeon door open to hear Snape in the middle of instructions for their Babbling Beverage.

"Ah, Potter. Come to grace us with your presence? I would have thought you'd missed the entire class," the slimy git said, sneering at Harry. Some of the Slytherins laughed while the Gryffindors frowned, knowing that Harry would lose them more points.

Harry put his hands in his pocket so that Snape wouldn't see his clenched fists. "Sorry sir...I overslept."

"Indeed. Twenty points from Gryffindor," he said which elicited a small groan from the Gryffindor side. He turned around and faced Dean Thomas. "Five more, Mr. Thomas."

"Potter. Take a seat next to Mr. Malfoy. Everyone else has been paired," instructed Snape, curtly. Harry hauled his bag and moved over to the right side of the room where Draco Malfoy was seated. He passed Hermione on the way and gave her a short smile that disappeared once he couldn't see her face again. Similar to the seating arrangements in the Great Hall, there were two rows of empty seats between the other Slytherins and Malfoy. Harry put his bag in one of those seats and placed himself next to Malfoy.

"Malfoy," he greeted shortly and a bit cautiously. His last encounter with the Slytherin was not exactly cheerful. But, Malfoy gave a brisk nod and turned his head so that his eyes were following the Potions Master. Harry noticed that he had a tip grip on his feather pen and his shoulders were slightly hunched and faced away from Harry as if being near him was certainly painful. Harry didn't comment on that and took out his feather pen, making sure to copy the instructions correctly.

Snape was done after five minutes and barked that the class may begin with the brewing. Malfoy, without discussing with him, immediately went for the proper ingredients while Harry was left to retrieve the necessary equipment. As Hermione was walking pass him to get a bottle of fried frog legs, she whispered, "Harry, are you alright? You've never overslept before." She had a hand around his wrist and was tenderly holding it.

Harry managed an assuring smile, swallowing as her hand caused a fluttering in his stomach, and gave her an unsuspicious answer, "I left the Potions essay to last minute and had to finish it. So I didn't get much sleep."

Was it just him or was Hermione worrying a lot about him?

He saw Ron looking at the two of them and watched as his friend realized that he saw him. "Er...hey mate,"

"Hey."

"Was I or was I not clear that we have a potion to brew?" asked Snape loudly. Harry mentally rolled his eyes and then answered, "Yes sir."

Snape pointed to his and Malfoy's station and Harry muttered a quick goodbye to his friends. Malfoy was crossing out the checklists of the required ingredients, took the cauldron out of Harry's hand, and placed it on the hook so that it was situated above the burning coal. He poured some water into the black cauldron, using a ladle to stir it.

Harry observed as he did so. After a few minutes, he asked, "So have you thought about it?"

"What?" Malfoy asked monotonously. His eyes were now focused on his hand which was carefully spooning a small amount of some sort of powder. Harry never knew his partner was so interested in potion brewing. Or maybe it was something else...

"Our less--discussion the other day?" Lesson was probably the wrong word to use when he was talking to Malfoy.

Malfoy added the ingredients together and poured it into the boiling liquid. Harry took the ladle and stirred as the book instructed. Malfoy proceeded to cut the roots. For a moment he thought Malfoy didn't hear his question so he opened his mouth to repeat it.

"Why would I think about that?" His tone was flat and stubborn and Harry couldn't help but despise it. His goal will be much harder to reach than Harry had thought.

"Don't you understand? Didn't you learn that your father--" Harry said, only to be cut of by Malfoy's fist smashing down to the table.

"Is there anything wrong, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape drawled, his eyes swiveling between the two.

"There was a bug," muttered Malfoy, willing his fists to unfold. Snape seemed unsatisfied by his answer but nevertheless, said nothing, gave Harry another look, and then turned to walk over to the next station.

Harry chose not to speak during the remaining duration of class and waited until Snape had ordered that the brewing part of the lesson was done. He poured the contents of their potion into a set of vials, carefully corking the tops so that none would spill. Malfoy came back from returning the ingredients and picked up his bag.

"Malf--Draco, we did that lesson because we wanted to change you. We want you to be in our club," Harry whispered fiercely.

Malfoy suddenly scoffed and for a moment it was as if he was his usual self again. Then the sound died in his throat and he stared out in space for a short moment. He shook his blond head and hefted his bag over his shoulder.

"Go kill yourself, Pothead," Harry was about to follow him but Hermione suddenly appeared in the aisle, blocking the way. Ron, who noticed Malfoy, stepped in front of his girlfriend and his hand already holding his wand. Harry tensed, noting Malfoy's gaze on Ron. Then they fell upon Hermione.

At once, Malfoy inverted his eyes to the floor and pushed passed Hermione.

Harry was just as confused as his friends. Did our lesson actually affect him?

She shot a peculiar look after Malfoy left. "That's odd. He didn't mutter an insult or anything! What's the problem with Malfoy these days?"

Harry stared after the Slytherin."Yeah," he mumbled, "odd."

"You wanted to talk to us?"

Harry glanced up from his History of Magic textbook, the tip of a quill between his teeth. He sat up when seeing Hermione and Ron awkwardly standing in front of his chair.

"Er, yeah...just sit down."

He could feel their eyes on him as he closed all of his folders and set it aside on a chair. "Er...I wanted to do this when no one was around so that's why the Common Room is so empty."

Hermione observed how he ran his hand through his hair and how his eyes were never directly on them. "Harry, what are you so nervous about?"

Harry jumped, never realizing how well she could read him. Finally, he locked eyes with Hermione. Ron was eyeing the two suspiciously, not knowing what was going on.

"Dumbledore gave me something..." he reached into his bag and pulled out a rolled up parchment. ‘It's Sirius' will."

"Oh," his two friends said, their reactions the same as his from the other night. Harry gestured for at least one of them to take it. Hermione did, accidentally brushing a hand against his. He pulled his arm back so suddenly that it alarmed her.

"Sorry," he said, taking a seat and letting his eyes fall on the fireplace, "Well...go on. Read it."

"Did you read it yet?" asked Ron, cautiously.

Harry shook his head.

"W-well then, shouldn't you read it first?"

"Just--read it to me then. My hands are shaking...I can't really hold it," ordered Harry with force. Ron hesitantly took the parchment from his girlfriend's hands. He cleared his throat and began to read,

"Dear Harry,

Since you are reading this, I assume someone has already killed me. But hopefully, I put up a good fight before dying.

I know you will be angry at me and feel that you're all alone. You may even feel like everything is your fault because you think you only bring trouble to the people you love. That's why I'm writing this note to tell you that you are not. There are so many people out there who care for you and love you for who you are. They're all there to protect you and fight along your side. Everyone has your back, Harry.

Keep your friends close and always build new friendships. That’s the difference between you and Lord Voldemort. Voldemort never cared for friends and never will. He will never know what love is. Friends are important and their supports will be vital to keep you going.

I’m sorry that I won't see you get your first girlfriend. I'm sorry that I won't see you defeat that bastard. I'm sorry for not being able to go to your future weddings or to see your son and my godchildren. Everything I will miss...I'm sorry for.

Hopefully you will forgive me and move on with your life like you should. There's a future ahead of you, Harry so don't give up just yet.

Lastly...

You may be the Boy-Who-Lived but to me, you'll always be James Potter's son and my godson.

I love you, Harry.

Your godfather,

Sirius Black.

Harry stared into the fire for the longest time, tears forming in his eyes. He thought about his godfather's death when he was holed up in Dursleys' house. He replayed the "vision" he received--the one where he saw Sirius at Voldemort's mercy. Harry was so focused on that vision that he never even considered the possibility that Voldemort was trying to lure him. He even believed Kreacher, for Merlin's sake! He took the word of a house-elf without properly thinking how incredibly stupid it was to listen to KREACHER!

The prophecy only added to the misery.

He was only a boy. A stupid, reckless boy who knew absolutely nothing on how to defeat the darkest sorcerer in the wizarding world. Someone who was supposedly "destined" to save the bloody people who only cared about him for that. Harry wished he never heard it in Dumbledore's pensieve. Wished that he could be left alone to mourn his godfather's death instead of gloomily thinking about his own which felt as if it was near.

Don't let it fall...don't let it fall, Harry thought to himself as he blinked away his tears. He didn't want his friends to see how vulnerable he felt...how useless. He didn't want them to know that in the future he or Voldemort might die at their final battle because it was destined.

"He thought I was mad at him? How can I be mad at him for dying?" he whispered loudly. "I wasn't angry at him. I was angry at myself...if only I had stayed at Hogwarts, Hermione..if only I listened..." He trailed off at the end, more of addressing himself instead of his friends.

Everything was always his fault.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, looking at him pityfully. Harry turned his head away, refusing to meet her eyes and see her pity for him. He hated pity; it made him feel even weaker.

"Go on," he croaked and then clearing his throat.

Hermione stared a bit longer at him before pulling the parchment from Ron's hand. Harry realized after the first few words that came from her mouth that this was the start of Sirius' will. In a wavering voice, she listed Sirius’ possessions that Harry would get. He received Grimmuald Place as predicted--except for the library (he only needed half a second to figure out who would get that part). Half of the wealth in Sirius’ Gringotts account will be transferred into his vault. The motorcycle was his too.

Ron and his family will get 25,000 galleons while Remus and Tonks will get 25,000 galleons as well. Hermione was given the library portion of Grimmauld Place and 25,000 galleons as well.

Harry remembered the motorcycle. It was the one in his dreams. Hagrid was the one who brought him away from the wizarding world. It was a bit ironic that he was also the one who brought him back. Sirius must haved loved the motorcycle; he fit him just right. Now Harry owned it and he didn't even know how to work it.

Grimmauld Place was something Harry didn't need nor want. The place came with the furniture and everything else that still resides in the space. That also meant Kreacher was under his control. His first decision as owner of Grimmuald Place: behead Kreacher and stick it on the wall next to his dear ancestors.

"Well, that's quite a lot," Harry finally said, standing up from his seat. He attempted cheerfulness in his tone but he guessed it failed. Hermione and Ron shot each other uneasy glances, both thinking 'he's not alright,'

Keep your friends close and always build new friendships.

I'll build it tomorrow. "No, I'm fine. Really."

"Harry," she called out. Harry sighed, suddenly very tired.

Nevertheless, he coulnd't refuse her.

Hermione threw herself onto him, nearly knocking him onto his back. He was so shocked at her sudden burst of emotion that it took him 30 seconds to work his arms around her waist.

"You're not tired, Harry. You don't sleep at night. You don't talk to us anymore!You hang out with Luna," cried Hermione as she had her head buried in the crook of Harry's neck, muffling her voice. "We're not your friends anymore..it's like you don't want us to be! I hate it, Harry. We don't want to be pushed away! I don't!"

With the last words, she pushed Harry away by the shoulders, now appearing to be frustrated. Tears were pouring freely down her cheeks and she didn't even bother to wipe them away. Strands of her hair, which was tied in a ponytail before, came loose. Her cheeks were flustered and bright red. Harry was captivated by the sight of her.

"You may think I'm being too emotional...that I'm overracting. You'll say that you don't hate us and that we're still friends but I know--I know--that you disagree! Have we done something wrong? Is it Sirius? Is it--my god, is it us?" She asked, teary eyed. Ron looked wildly at her, not even believing that she would suggest that their relationship was ruining the Trio.

Harry stood there, mouth slightly opened. He had a bawling Hermione in front of him and a confused Ron.. This was too much for him to handle; he didn't know what to say. She was right on all accounts

As Hermione was always known to be, she was right. On every account. She knew...just knew.

"Hermione," said Ron who seemed even more shocked to hear her say that to Harry.

"Harry! Answer me," she cried, ignoring Ron completely and eyes on only Harry.

"I-I..." he managed, mind unable to form coherent thoughts. He never felt this way before. It was as if the air was compressing the inside of his body, forcing his heart and his lungs to freeze. He could not longer avoid Hermione's questions or Ron's glares. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think...he just wanted to get away...

He did exactly that. He turned on his heels--so quickly that he nearly tripped on the rug-- sprinted up the boy's dormitories as if Voldemort was at his tail. He struggled into his bed and yanked the curtains till they were shut and hid himself away from his friends downstairs and problems--away from everything.

His head hit the pillow and he let out a shivering breath, choking back the sob that was fighting to escape.

Well that was dramatic...I wanted to add a bit more drama so that's what the ending was supposed to be about. I was planning to have a totally different ending but then I changed it abruptly. That's just me.

Anyways leave a review if you have time. Many probably have school stuff to do like me so I can totally understand if you can't.

I'm planning on having some Club moments in the next chapter.

Till next time,

Le

6. Yay!

A Club

Viopathartic

O.M.G! Is it, like, Viopathartic, like, again?

A/N: DOUBLE UPDATE BABY! This is gonna be a little shorter than what you’re used to from me but I hope it will still be enjoyable.

Chapter 6:

Harry glanced around the Great Hall from the entrance threshold, one foot in and one foot out.

Draco Malfoy was not here.

That was odd. As much as the Slytherin wanted to ignore the Club members, he never skipped morning breakfast before. The Slytherin table seemed not notice that one of their own was missing. Most of the talk was apparently revolved around the newest issue of the Daily Prophet. Suddenly, Harry was curious and was about to completely step over the threshold to retrieve one when his eyes turned to the Gryffindor table where his friends were most likely to be. They spotted him as quickly as they were spotted. Hermione began to rise from her seat but Harry wouldn't let her.

He decided he would find the Daily Prophet elsewhere as he exited the Great Hall.

On his way out he ran into Luna. Instantly, the Daily Prophet disappeared from his mind. She was standing in front of the notice board with her head tilted thoughtfully. Without even turning to Harry, she asked, "You haven't taken this down. Do you want more people?"

Harry slowly walked to where she was positioned and looked at the advertisement for A Club.

He thought about it for a second. People DID come to the first meeting...so if he continued to put this up than others might come. But then again, did Harry want more people? He gave a small smile. Then he reached out and pulled the poster off the notice board and handed it to Luna.

"No...actually, I like the way the club is right now."

Luna smiled broadly, clutching the poster in her hands.

"Good choice, Harry. You don't know how many other weirdoes might show up next time..."

Harry chuckled, "That's right, Luna."

Draco Malfoy just wanted to be alone.

His morning started out okay...almost as if he never attended the club meetings.

That was...until he went to see his father in Azkaban.

This was his first time in the Azkaban jail. His mum never let him go before but this time, Draco was insistent. He wanted to see his father and talk to him.

The official Auror led the pair past the cells, solemnly basked in shadows. Draco saw a Dementor drift by in an intersecting corridor. He suppressed a shiver as an image of his father yelling to him to never touch his wand without asking first. He never liked Dementors.

There was a bald-headed man with one eye open as the other appeared to be sewed shut. He was sitting in the cell next to his father’s cell. He looked up miserably as Draco passed. Suddenly the main shot up from his seat and ran to the front of his cell, hands wrapping around the metal bars. Draco suddenly backed up against his mum. The man looked at him wildly, pointing a sickly bony finger at him.

“You—you—you!” He whispered hysterically. He went on to mutter a string of incomprehensible words, the one eye staring crazily at him. The Auror pulled out his wand, successfully driving the man back into the shadows of his cell.

“Draco, come on,” Narcissa Malfoy pulled Draco by the hand, leading him to Lucius’ cell.

His father used to be a finely built man. When he walked through the house or through the Ministry, he walked with stride as if he owned the place. His golden blond hair was brushed so that it used to shine as it past his shoulders. His clothes was tailored by the most expensive wizards in Europe and they were only for people “of class” as Lucius used to say.

Now here he was, sitting on a cement bench, waiting with his head bowed and hand clenched in fists on his thighs. Lucius lost the shine in his hair; it probably hasn’t been washed in days. His clothes were a black and white jumpsuit, barely providing enough warmth for the perpetual coldness in the cells.

He sneered and stood up when he saw Draco and Narcissa appear in front of him. His ex-wife gulped and held her son by his shoulders. Draco shrugged her off and stepped closer.

“Hello Father,” he said quietly.

“Never call me that again, you worthless child!” Lucius hissed through the bars, eyes narrowing in hatred. Draco was so shocked that his mouth was left slightly opened. “You stupid boy, get away from me. You don’t deserve to even see me!”

“Lucius!” Narcissa gasped, pulling Draco away. This time Draco didn’t resist.

“And you, fucking bitch. Why are you here? Have you come to beg for my money? Never. NEVER! You could work at a whorehouse for all I care!”

Narcissa had enough. She pulled her son by the arm and whispered to the Auror to escort them out. Draco had to fight the urge to look back as he walked down the gloomy hall again. He didn’t want to see the anger or the loathing in his father’s eyes again.

Why was his father so cold-blooded? He dismissed his mother as if she was nothing but dirt. And the way he treated him...was even worse. Couldn't he tell that Draco wanted to be loyal to him? That he never wanted his mum to get the divorce?

Then Loony came into the Astronomy Tower and sat down besides him as if they were supposed to be meeting here.

And she didn't even say hello.

"Oh. It's not mating season yet for the Crumple Horned Snorkacks," commented Luna a bit disappointedly as she scanned the insides of the Daily Prophet. She had it opened so the cover could be seen from where Draco was sitting and when he did, he swiftly turned his head to the side.

"Have you seen him yet, Draco?" asked Luna with her head tilted to the side. She noticed how the boy tightened his jaw and refused to look at her.

She nodded as if he answered her. "You did."

Luna closed the paper and placed it on her lap. She gazed patiently at the boy. "I know he's your father. That's why you're so naturally loyal to him. You want to believe that he has done nothing wrong."

Draco focused in on the lengthy crack in the stone wall, tracing it up and down from the ceiling to the floor. She stopped talking but he knew she would start again. He began counting the number of bricks in the wall in front of him.

1…2…3…4…5…6…

“But he has. He’s a Death Eater, Draco. He’s a horrible person.”

28…29…30…

“They do horrible things. I bet he treated you wrong too, didn’t he?”

56…57…58…59…

“If you keep acting like this, you’ll become like him.”

Draco grabbed her by the shoulders and blindly pushed her to the floor. Luna's look of surprise was well suited for this situation. She fell onto the floor on her bum, not even letting out a sound. She gazed up at him in wonder, tears building up from the hurt but she didn't cry.

"Will you SHUT up!?! You're such an idiot! Don't you know when you're not wanted? No wonder no one likes you! You're so Loony a-and stupid a-and a bloody retard! GO AWAY!" He roared with blood boiling and ears ringing.

He whirled around so that he wouldn’t see her shakily stand up from the ground, so that he would see the tears flowing freely from her eyes to the floor. He trained his ears so that he wouldn’t hear her sob or the jingle of her bag as she grabbed it from the bench. He blocked out everything so that he wouldn’t hear the door slam shut with such unpleasant finality that it made him hate himself.

Harry spotted Neville outside on the grounds, walking in the direction of Hagrid's hut.

"Hey Nev. Going to Hagrid's?"

"I might. Right now I'm just walking. I have a Herbology test tomorrow so I'm just trying to clear my mind," Neville said. "Do you want to walk with me?"

"Sure," answered Harry and he fell into step with his friend.

"Why aren't you talking to Hermione and Ron anymore?" Neville asked curiously. Harry sighed and then shrugged.

"We kind of had a row yesterday and I left without answering them."

"They didn't seem mad at you," said Neville, "they even asked Dean and Seamus about you."

"We're not mad at each other...it's...well, it's a bit complicated."

"Oh," Neville said and stopped looking at Harry. He knew Neville didn't want to pry. He was only trying to help.

"Well, you see...I'm not really okay with Hermione and Ron dating. They're exact opposites. It's scary how the whole school population believes they're made for each other because I can't really see that."

"Me neither," his friend said. Harry shot him a surprised look. "What? Harry, we can't ignore the arguments the two of them get into. It's always been that way. Ron always hurt Hermione without even thinking and now she's dating him? That's a dumb decision on Hermione's part."

Neville colored once he realized what he said about Hermione to Harry. "Sorry....I-I didn't--"

"No. It's alright." Harry couldn't believe Neville was actually agreeing with him. He liked how Neville had changed. Sure, he was still a bit shy but when he talked to Harry, Harry could see that there was a different Neville Longbottom underneath. He grinned, "I'm glad you feel the same way as me."

"See...in the last row, I almost, well, told Hermione that I liked her and that the only reason I was not hanging out with her anymore was because she was still dating Ron."

"Ron was there too?"

"Yeah."

"And what did you do?"

"I...ran?"

Neville laughed. "Very brave."

Harry smiled back and shrugged. "I didn't know what to do. She asked if I had a problem with her and Ron and...I couldn't even answer. It was the perfect moment to just let it all out and I fled."

“Then it wasn’t the perfect moment,” Neville wisely said. The Boy-Who-Lived smiled slightly.

“You remember when you thanked me the other day?”

Neville nodded, “Yeah.”

“Well, I should be the one thanking you. You don’t know how much you changed me...I’m just…really glad that you’re my friend,”

“Harry, I—no, I’m not that—“

Harry frowned. “You’re a good person. And very brave too. Weren’t you with me on that day in the Department of Mysteries? Aren’t you here now, talking to me?”

Neville’s face flustered as he heard Harry’s praise for him.

"Oh hey, there's Luna," Neville pointed up at the hill that faced Hagrid's Hut, effectively changing the subject. The Ravenclaw was sitting on top of it in Indian style. She appeared to be meditating...

...but when Harry and Neville decided to move closer, they were shocked to find that she was crying.

"Luna! A-are you alright?" Neville asked immediately, kneeling in front of her.

Slowly, Luna opened her eyes and tipped her head back so that she saw the sky. Neville glanced nervously at Harry and then placed a hand on her shoulder. Luna's light blue eyes met Neville's, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Harry stood aside, silently watching the younger girl. He always found it odd how she never blinked when someone insulted her. Now he knew that she was hiding all of it; the hurt, the pain, and the torture of being different from everyone else. Harry remembered what it was like for him to be different in the Muggle World. But he wasn't as good as Luna with holding in his hurt. That was why he was such a good target to Dudley and his gang.

He 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."

Neville and Harry backed away to give her space as she stood up. She brushed the grass off her flowing skirt and then reached into her bag to grab a handkerchief. She blew her noise loudly, causing Neville to jump. Harry shot him an amused look before quickly sobering.

"Draco knows what's wrong. Malfoy still wants to be with his father. Malfoy's trying to take over again but there's something that's stopping him."

"Oh," said Neville. "But is everything else alright...I mean physically?"

Luna shook her head, vanishing the handkerchief with her wand. "Thank you. You helped me a lot."

Harry had a feeling that she wasn't just talking about what they did just now. He nodded back, silently agreeing to never let her cry again.

The three of them fell in step together, walking in no particular direction. The atmosphere was peaceful. The silence was not awkward but companionable. It made Harry feel glad that he decided to post the noticed on the board.

"Poor Draco," Luna sighed all of the sudden as she walked between them.

"What are you talking about, Luna? He just hurt you today!" Neville exclaimed, looking at Luna as if she suddenly gone crazy. Actually, Luna was already crazy...but Neville didn't think of that. She smiled at him, finally acting like her normal self.

"Neville," she sang melodically as she bent down to pluck a long strand of grass. She sort of skipped towards her friend and handed the bewildered Gryffindor her "present".

"I'm talking about what happened to his father."

Neville's mouth formed an "o" and then he nodded. He gestured towards her with the flower in his grip, "Er...thanks." Harry, however, was still confused.

"Malfoy's father is in Azkaban! What could have happened to him?"

Luna gazed at Harry as if she was analyzing him. Then, she removed her bookbag and turned it upside down. The contents fell on the grass in heaping amounts. It was a wonder how she kept everything inside, in yet her bag looked normal. Harry supposed she used an enlargement charm on the inside.

Luna knelt down and began to sort through her items. Neville and Harry exchanged glances before doing the same and pawing through her books, odd jewelries, and a collection of quills.

"Ah, yes!" Luna lifted a very heavy textbook and picked something up from underneath. In her palm was a miniscule piece of parchment. Harry gazed down at it and then shot her a questioning look.

She took out her wand and muttered some charm, instantly turning the item to its original size. It was the Daily Prophet.

"Luna...if you have all your text books and other stuff at original size in your book bag, why do you bother to shrink the Daily Prophet?" asked Neville.

Luna appeared to not have heard her friend and splayed the Newspaper on the ground so all three could see the cover.

LUCIUS MALFOY ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN, THEN CAPTURED AGAIN BY AURORS.

Harry read on about how Malfoy's father had help from his Death Eaters, and they blew a chunk of the prison structure. Luckily, Aurors, who were visiting a suspect at a nearby cell, were able to call reinforcement and capture Lucius and his friends.

"And how does this make you sympathize Malfoy?"

Her dreamy expression was lost at once and Luna frowned, the sadness an expression foreign to her face. "Draco went to see his father."

Harry remembered how he had defended father during their attempt to change Draco's ways. Even though Draco's parents were now divorced and Lucius had disowned him, Draco still cared and held loyalty to the Death Eater. In a nervous voice (for Luna seemed deeply affected by this), he asked, "What did Lucius say to him?"

Luna sighed, absentmindedly picking up her belongings. "I suspect that his father called him some names and refused to speak to his son after that. Narcissa Malfoy must have pulled Draco away because he didn't want to leave."

“So he’s changing then,” Harry whispered, more to himself than the other two, but Luna heard.

“I believe significantly. But he’s reluctant. Stubbornly so…” She closed her bag in finality and let out a breathy sigh. Squinting, she gazed up at the sky with her hand shading her eyes.

“Oh,” she said regretfully.

“What?” Neville did the same as she but saw nothing in the clear, blue firmaments.

“The Lysofits are so far away,” she murmured. In answer to Harry’s look, she explained, “It’s not very astonishing that you never heard of them. They’re extremely rare.”

"What exactly do you see, Luna? Because, I see nothing."

"You have to call them, Neville. Like this," Luna said. She clapped her hands together and then raised her arms to the skies. She called out a sound that Harry could only connect to an Indian's call, shaking her head as she did so. Neville and him watched in bemusement. "See? Oh--they're coming!" Luna pointed to a spot in the skies, apparently seeing the Lysofrits.

Harry and Neville still couldn't see anything.

"Oh, they're shy! Here, Neville...call them!" The Ravenclaw grabbed Neville's hand and clapped them for him. The boy was too afraid to pull them away.

"You have to do it like you mean it, Neville!" Luna clapped again, encouraging a weak clap from Neville. "Harry, do you--"

"No, no. I'm fine," answered Harry with a wide grin on his face. Neville glared at him.

“Just clap your hands, Neville. They'll come, I promise."

Neville sighed loudly and did as his friend commanded, clapping soundly and then calling out.

Harry walked slowly behind them, thoroughly amused at the sounds they were making together and how ridiculous they seemed to look. Luna didn't even mind while Neville was apparently getting into the Lysofits' call.

The only problem was: they were walking down a hill. Neville called out again, with Luna walking ahead. His back was turned and he was facing Harry. He was laughing as he did his unique call, now forgetting his awkwardness from before.

"Neville--no, stop....hill!"

He realized too soon. "Bloody--" Neville waved his arms in a windmill fashion, attempting to regain his balance. His body failed him and Harry watched as he fell back, onto the ground and began rolling down the hill. Luna, who was oblivious to her friend's approach, was knocked down by surprise as Neville's body collided into the back of her knees. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were caught in a tangle as they somersaulted until they reached a flat area.

Harry sprinted to see if his friends were alright.

And they were.

Luna began to laugh as she lay beneath Neville. He groaned as he picked himself up, holding his head. Harry and him watched the girl laugh as if rolling down a hill and potentially hurting themselves was the world's funniest joke.

Harry's worry was gone and now he couldn't stop a small smile from appearing on his face. Soon enough, laughter was bubbling in his throat and escaped through as he sunk onto his knees and side, holding his stomach to stop the ache. The two Gryffindors and Ravenclaw lay on the ground, rolling on the ground and letting their cries of laughter merge into the winds of November.

I’m terribly sorry for the miniscule Harry/Hermione in this one. Initially I was planning on making this a friendship story between Luna, Neville, and Draco but I also wanted to post this on Portkey.org, which was why I added the little situation between the Golden Trio. I’m sorry; I’ll work on it. But the LND thing is crucial to the plot…In the end it will be Harry/Hermione.

Check out my latest chapter of Operation CoJacks and also my other one-shots if you feel up to more Viopathartic awesomeness.

Until next time,

Le

7. untitled

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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8. untitled

A Club

Viopathartic

FINALLY my AN: Okay, so the long hiatus that I have been on was not my wish in the first place. It started when I tried to upload this chapter. But the Portkey thing wouldn't let me. Every time I tried to upload something would go wrong and I couldn't figure it out. So I eventually left it alone and rather, posted onto Fanfiction.net.

Then I forgot about fanfiction for awhile. Did you guys know that I am applying to COLLEGES right now? I started writing fanfiction at thirteen (middle school) now I am in my last year of high school! It's incredibly weird. So yeah, you guys can say that I've been busy lately.

Still I apologize for this long wait. Feel free to reread everything because your memory might be a bit fuzzy regarding my stories!

That being said, I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Leave some comments if you can! It's…I don't know…long? 14 pages?

Awkward.

Definition: Marked by or causing embarrassment or discomfort.

Or…

Two Gryffindors, one Ravenclaw, and one Slytherin sitting in a room.

It had been hours since the whole scene in the Great Hall. The four of them had silently agreed to head to their empty Transfiguration classroom before dinner let out. That way, they could avoid questions from their teachers and friends (more of teachers since what every member lacked was a friend—hence the establishment of the simply named club A Club).

Harry led the group, assiduously trying to ignore the fact that Draco Malfoy was following him and he was letting him. Neville trailed the two, glancing alternatively down at his shoes and at Draco's blond head. Luna didn't walk or follow or trail; in fact, she skipped and hummed like a child with no purpose on a sunlit hike along the banks.

One by one, the members of A Club entered the room and sat down at desks that were at least 3 feet apart from each other. Harry settled himself at the front since he was the leader in an unspoken manner. Draco Malfoy had seated himself by the window and faced away from Harry as if trying to avoid eye contact. Luna, who was sitting nearest to him, was observing him keenly.

Harry sighed. Yes, awkward was the perfect term because the whole club was awkward with awkward members and awkward meetings. The Awkward Club.

"Perfect," he muttered to himself. Or not.

"Yes, perfect," echoed Luna who seemed to have faultless hearing abilities. "I'm really glad we're here together. Aren't you Neville?" Neville seemed surprised to be so abruptly addressed, but nevertheless, stuttered:

"S-sure."

Luna beamed at him, and Harry silently wondered to himself what the definition of crazy was.

"And Draco?"

The blonde wizard fixed an annoyed glare on Luna and grunted at her like Goyle or Crabbe would have done. "What?"

"Isn't it perfect?"

"What's perfect?"

"This."

"And 'this' is what?"

"No, this is perfect. I was just asking if you thought it was perfect."

Draco opened his mouth to retort but Harry, agitated, broke through and said, "All right, Luna. He thinks it's perfect too; now let's move on. "

"To what, Harry?" Luna asked, eyes wide as usual. She unknowingly caught the dark-haired wizard. He himself did not know what they were supposed to do. As president of A Club, he should have been ashamed. But, since they never established a president, vice president, or secretary for that matter, Harry was allowed to lie.

"Let's…talk! Yeah, that's it. Talk."

"Aren't we doing that now?"

"For fuck's sake, Loony, stop asking stupid questions," Draco growled. Harry gave the boy a condescending look. The latter appeared utterly blasé.

Slowly, the Ravenclaw girl turned in her seat to Draco's direction, her waist-length dirty-blond hair moving ever so slightly, and marked him with her perceptive eyes. The boy subconsciously leaned back.

"Do you know, Draco, that there is an exact word that means 'to throw out of a window'? I can say to you, Draco, for example, that I want to throw you out of a window. Or, I can say that I want to defenestrate you…and that would save four words," Luna commented with an air of innocence despite what she had said. The other boys looked at her incredulously. Did Luna Lovegood just…threaten Draco Malfoy?

Rather than answer, Draco turned his head. Now that was a character improvement. The two bystanders, Harry and Neville, let out sighs of relief. Although Luna causing a rift was unlikely, their new acceptance of Draco was balanced on a thin line.

"Uh, Luna…"

The girl turned to Neville. "Yes?"

"Settle down…uh, please?"

Luna smiled at him. "Alright, Neville. So, how are you doing?" Harry marveled at her skill to change subjects so abruptly.

Neville let out a chuckle, as if he couldn't believe it either. "Nothing much, Luna. Classes and such are horrid as usual, especially with Snape."

"Yes, I see him as an awfully unfortunate fellow. Wearing black every day can cause damage to one's mind. At least, that's what Daddy says," the only female commented lightly.

Draco lifted an eyebrow and asked sardonically, "Is that why you wear those sorts of accessories? To protect your mind?" He pointed to her radish earrings and necklace of butterbeer corks. Although odd, Harry was used to Luna's clothing choice. At least she had kept her individuality despite after all she had been through.

"No. These are from my mum," Luna stated then her voice changed so that it was softer than usual. She touched her necklace with veneration and glanced at Draco, staring straight into his eyes and without flinching, answered, "She's dead."

Harry glanced at the Slytherin, ready to measure his reaction. The boy looked ashamed, and to Harry, it was an expression that didn't really fit the egoistical Draco Malfoy he used to know. The latter glanced down at his hands which were clasped together. He shifted uncomfortably while avoiding Luna's gaze.

"Er…sorry."

"Thank you," Luna answered. Her eyes roamed the features of his face, letting them slide up from his chin to his cheeks and finally to his eyes which managed to communicate some sort of feeling to Luna, for she smiled and reached across the three feet between Draco and her and patted his knee.

Harry saw that Draco was trying to not flinch away from the foreign touch. Of course he'd be uncomfortable with Luna's show of affection; look at who he was raised by!

The boy removed his gaze from Luna and continued to look out of the window.

Luna continued to stare at him.

"So! Quite a show we caused today," she commented lightly after Neville coughed to get her attention.

"Right." Harry reflected and realized that no one would be able to forget what happened today. And yet, inside, he knew he was somewhat proud of his friends sitting in the same room as him.

Harry was enraged when he saw that boy publicly and shamelessly bully Luna. It was then that that he first witnessed the cruel treatment given to his younger friend; most of the "bullying" that Luna was known to receive was only spoken about. Harry hadn't been bullied for a long time, but he remembered the feeling of fear and worthlessness whenever Dudley and his friends decided to chase him around Little Whinging.

He stood up because he couldn't bear to see Luna just sit there and pretend like she wasn't hurt by her classmate's treatment. But Harry certainly didn't expect Neville to mimic him.

Neville was quiet by nature. Raised in a family that was still preoccupied with the shadows of their great ancestors, they made Neville feel less than worthy. His family never failed to make comparisons between him and his parents, former Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom who, unfortunately, were permanent residents at St. Mungo's. However, Harry knew that Neville was a kind, gentle person, who had courage to protect his friends when needed.

He was certain that Neville had felt the same need to save Luna from her bully.

But Malfoy…Draco…

Harry mentally shook his head. Even he couldn't believe it.

"So…you want to go public with…this?" Neville asked, not knowing how to describe their relationship to each other.

"Why not? The whole bloody school knows," muttered Draco almost to himself.

"Sure," Harry said, "I don't mind. It's not like I'm embarrassed to be seen with you." He glanced discreetly in Draco's direction. Alright, maybe it'll take some time to be seen with him.

"Just for future reference," Draco cut in, impertinently," if you find me dead or otherwise mutilated in my Slytherin dorm, know that my fellow housemates were the one to commit the crime."

"Is it that bad?" Harry couldn't help but ask. It always seemed like the whole house was under Malfoy's leadership, like the Slytherins would follow him no matter where he went.

"I think it's the same for you, Potter. If you were to reveal association with me, your lion pals would probably think you joined You-Know-Who's lead."

"I don't think so. Regardless of who I'm with, if it's not with Voldemort, they'd still be my friends," said Harry.

Draco raised his knees so that he could rest a chin on top of them. His arms wrapped around his knees, giving him an almost vulnerable appearance. "Yeah, well, the people in the Slytherin house don't give a shit about me. They were only scared of me 'cause they knew who my father worked for. Besides, they're slimeballs. Don't care about anything but themselves…"

"That's the Slytherin House for you. Ambitious and cunning. Taking every opportunity regardless of who they hurt or harm," Luna interjected in a bright tone.

The Slytherin snorted, as if he agreed.

Harry thought for a moment then shook his head. He finally made a decision. "No, I don't think so. We'll keep it under wraps. I admit, we do have a vague itinerary for our club."

"That's not true," Luna commented suddenly. The three boys turned their attention to the only girl in the club. "We have our band to think about."

He glanced discreetly at Draco, but the other boy was staring incredulously at Luna. "Band? You weren't kidding about it?"

"That's what I said," Harry muttered, taking a seat near Neville. The latter shot him an amused expression.

"Actually…" Harry began, "the three of us tried some instruments in the Room of Requirement and Nev's pretty good at the drums, right?" He had glanced in Neville's direction; the latter looked shocked at being addressed again and also surprised at the shortening of his name. He blushed at the praise.

"Yeah, it was fun."

Harry gestured to Luna. "And she knows a lot about instruments…"

"Yes, Daddy always let me learn on my own."

"And you?" Draco asked, pointing lazily at Harry. "What instrument do you 'excel' in?" Strange as it seemed, he actually appeared to be curious and…interested…

"Nothing," Harry answered shortly.

"He's going to be the singer," Luna answered succinctly.

"What?" That was only suggested! He couldn't sing? Not at all. He never even heard himself sing because he never cared and he never wanted to suffer from embarrassment. Actually, he had sung once…but Hogwarts' theme did not count at the least! "I can't sing, Luna. It's preposterous for you to even say that!"

"You may be able to sing. I can sense it."

Harry waved away her answer. "Look, I am not going to sing. That's final."

"Alright, but Grivenclarin will need you."

"That's not going to be our name!" Harry hissed.

"But we will have a name."

Who knew Luna was such a stubborn person? Harry always thought she was the girl who couldn't care less and let "fate" run its course. Now he knew she was almost as resistant as Hermione…

He glanced at the wall clock that ran on the magic given off by students and saw that dinner was near done. Though, he suspected the students didn't finish eating since they probably spent most of their time gossiping. He wondered how Hermione and Ron reacted. He didn't get the chance to get a glimpse because he had left in such a rush after Draco and Luna. He knew that they were mad and worried and…despite their recent rift, they still wanted to know what was happening.

Should he tell them?

That'd surely clear up things, but it'll also cause more questions to surface.

"Damn," he muttered.

Harry sighed and turned to his three friends (he guessed he could count Draco as one) and said, "Let's get to our Common Rooms. No use in hiding here."

Draco looked like he wanted to protest.

After parting with the other members, he made his way to the Gryffindor House.

Harry walked into something that made his stomach turn.

Hermione was practically on top of Ron as the two of them were stretched across the couch. Harry, horrified, looked around to see if anyone was witnessing the scene he was witnessing through his bespectacled eyes. Dean and Seamus were battling each other through a game of Wizard Chess. Lavender and Parvati were insouciantly gossiping as always and they were much immersed in their own conversation. The rest of the kids in Common Room were of the younger sort, but they still paid no attention to whatever Hermione and Ron were doing.

Daring to get closer, he cautiously made his way over. It was then that he caught Ron's terrified voice.

"Gah! Harry, get her off me!"

Just like that, Hermione jumped off Ron and snatched her hands away, hiding them behind her back. Ron sat himself up and a hand went up to rub an incredibly red ear. "'Merlin, Hermione! No need to rip my bloody ear off!"

"You bloody deserved it!" Hermione hissed, crossing her arms.

"What happened?" Harry asked wearily. Truthfully, he felt no oddity when around the two even though he worked to avoid them for days. It was just like before, but now Harry was the mediator it seemed. But their animosity will fade and then they will get back together…

"This dolt," Hermione said, poking Ron with a finger, "kicked Crookshanks."

Harry turned to Ron and gave him an irritated look. "Kicked?" No wonder.

His redheaded companion flushed and tried to defend himself. "I didn't really kick him…no, I just...nudged him with my foot."

"Then I suppose you won't mind if I nudge my foot up your—"

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, scandalized. Clearly his two friends' relationship had drastically changed with each other. Hermione's annoyed expression quickly turned to one of shame, and she lowered her head. He heard her sigh loudly.

"Could you guys stop? I mean, this is not the way…you're supposed to act."

Ron and Hermione simultaneously looked alarmed. "Like what?" they both asked.

Harry glanced at them oddly. "Like…like…"

"What?" Hermione insisted.

"I dunno," the young wizard muttered, looking away, "like boyfriend and girlfriend."

"We're not!" His female friend quickly interjected. She stepped forward and put a hand on his lower arm. Harry glanced down at the touch. "We're not…dating anymore, Harry." Hermione spoke to him clearly, as if she wanted him to understand something.

Not knowing what to say, he glanced over at Ron.

His friend shrugged, appearing exasperated. "What she said."

"Wha—when did this happen?"

"After you left us, we broke up."

Harry flushed. "Hermione, I—"

"It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was," Ron mumbled behind Harry.

Hermione glared at him.

"Okay, well, not entirely your fault. See, we would have broken up eventually—"

"—and you didn't tell me this?" Hermione angrily asked.

Ron, continuing on as if he ignored his ex-girlfriend, "—because our relationship would last with our badgering…and I don't think my ear would have lasted Hermione's pinches and pulls. You, Harry, actually acted as a catalyst—"

"Big word," Hermione muttered grudgingly. Like before, her ex-boyfriend ignored her.

"—and so…we broke up."

Harry was shocked to say at the least. Why wasn't Ron upset? Why wasn't…this was the exact opposite of what he expected. It sounded like there weren't any hard feelings.

"Why didn't you tell me this?" He glanced back and forth at Hermione and Ron. "The both of you?"

"Why didn't you tell us you fancied Hermione?" retorted Ron.

“Ron!” Hermione hissed.

Alarmed and quickly prepping to defend himself, he turned to Hermione. It was the worst moment, but Harry couldn't help but study her as he used to do. And damn, she was still beautiful.

"I—I didn't tell you guys because…because you guys are my best friends, and I thought you were happy together. I didn't want to ruin that for you," he said. After his confession, he let out a deep breath.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if his relationship with the two would ever be the same again. And what about Hermione? Now that she knew about his feelings, would she confront him? Or should he admit to her.

"I wasn't going to ever tell you, Hermione. And I didn't want to hurt you because I knew that you would...” he trailed off. Harry snuck a glance at Ron who wasn't meant to see it, but he did.

“Would what?” Ron pressed.

“Say something about me getting everything. Like some jealous git," mumbled Harry.

"I wouldn't—"

But Hermione and Harry's glares stopped Ron from protesting.

And just then, Harry realized how awfully uncomfortable it was to stand in front of his two best friends with everything out in the open. Hermione and Ron probably felt the same way if their incapability to stay still was an indicator.

"Well," drawled Ron.

"Yes, I have a bit of reading to…erm, read," Hermione said softly.

"And I have to…you know, um," Harry was the first to move out of the circle, and he tried not to look like he was running from the others.

"Bye," all three of them said in unison. They all realized their mistakes and looked away from each other.

Right. Well. That wasn't awkward.

He had initially gone to Library because he had to finish a Transfiguration essay that was due in five hours. Also, he wanted to skip breakfast and all the hassling that came with it. To his surprise, Luna was bent over a book that was placed on a table. Only a few other Ravenclaws and Madam Pince were in the room. Luna's eyes eagerly roamed the pages, quickly reminding Harry of the way Hermione read.

"Hello."

Luna looked up and once seeing who it was, she blinked. "Oh, hi, Harry."

He pulled over a seat and placed it across from her. Luna had her back to the door. "What are you reading?"

"Oh something Neville just gave me. He handed it to me when he passed me this morning. Said that I would like it." She lifted the relatively thick book and showed the cover to Harry. It read: Mythical Plants.

"Mythical Plants? They exist?" Harry asked, disbelieving.

"Oh yes. They're about herbs and other plants that saved a lot of Mythical gods and goddesses' lives. Extremely informative but vastly unrepresented in literature," said Luna excitedly. "Neville's right. I am enjoying it immensely."

Harry noticed how Neville and Luna had so much in common. They were (or used to be) loners in their own Houses because their classmates had failed to take notice of them. They had uncanny moments where their inner personality would surprise everyone around. Maybe…just maybe…

So, on a whim, he asked Luna if she fancied Neville Longbottom.

And she laughed.

Frankly, Harry was astonished to hear Luna laugh as if fancying Neville was just a huge joke. He always thought Luna accepted Neville and understood him. He waited, confused, for Luna to calm down and wipe away her mirthful tears. She then proceeded to explain to Harry in a serious tone, that their auras were just not compatible. And without compatible auras, love could not exist.

"Oh. Uh-huh," Harry kept on saying and repeated as Luna continued to ramble on with her nonexistent talk.

"But then again, it's not always good to judge a book by its aura!" Luna sung with a smile.

"Um, I think it's cover…never judge a book by its cover," Harry corrected, amused.

His eccentric friend then beamed at him. "Harry, that was very insightful!"

Harry just shook his head.

"Well, your aura is outstanding! Only, not my type of aura."

"How about Draco?" Hey, it was worth a try.

The oddest thing happened: Luna blushed.

"His aura has potential."

It was then that Harry burst out laughing, not caring that they were in the library where other students were milling around. They, of course, were wondering why the Boy-Who-Lived was laughing so hard in Luna Lovegood's presence. Potential! Wow, who would've thought that Luna fancied Draco. He wondered if she began to like him after he rescued her from her bullies or if her feeling had…

As if reading his mind, she answered, "I liked him since last year. He had such a bad boy exterior to him that I---"

"Alright, alright," said Harry who put his hands up to stop Luna. "I'm not going to wonder about that."

"Hmmm…but I don't know if he likes me back."

Harry felt his mirth from a few seconds ago fade away. She sounded sad. Actually, he wasn't sure if Draco returned Luna's feelings. The two had a different relationship going on. For example, why did Draco rescue Luna in the first place? And why did he apologize to her? Harry didn't know if Draco fancying someone was a possibility. It's harder for him to love, given his background.

"You don't think he will?" Luna inquired, tilting her head. Harry couldn't discern the tone of her voice.

"No!" he quickly answered. "I was wondering too…but I guess it's fifty-fifty. He'd be stupid not to fancy you. You're a nice girl." He marveled at how easy he had complimented her. But he guessed everything was easier with Luna.

Luna blushed and glanced down at her book. "Thank you, Harry."

He smiled softly at her.

But then his smile disappeared when he noticed Hermione and Ron standing awkwardly behind Luna. They were waiting for him at a distance and saw Luna and Harry having what seemed like a close and personal conversation but didn't want to intrude.

"Hey," he called out, inviting them to the table.

Hermione smiled weakly while Ron raised a hand in greeting.

"You go ahead, Harry," Luna gaily encouraged him. "Catch up with them."

"We haven't walked like this in awhile," said Ron. Harry and Hermione glanced at him, confused. "You know, with Hermione in the middle and the two of us on the outside."

“Right.”

"So, I have Potions. What do you have, Harry?"

"Potions too."

"The three of us have always had Potions together," Hermione pointed out.

"Oh," was all Ron said. Harry gave him a slight grin.

Wordlessly, the three began to walk.

They were about to turn the corner when they heard another set of footsteps behind them. Harry turned and saw Draco stop at the same time as him. He nodded his acknowledgement.

"You guys go to the classroom. I'll meet up soon," Harry suggested to his friends. This earned him twin looks of confusion, to which he explained, "I promise you…I'll tell you later."

Hermione stepped forward, looking like she was going to disagree but Ron put an arm out. He nodded at Harry and mumbled to the girl beside him, "He promises, Herms; let's just get to class."

His friend sighed. "Alright. Just make sure you're not stumbling in after the bell, Harry."

He grinned. "Sure."

Harry stared after her, watching her retreating form turn the corner with Ron.

"Er…female problems?"

Harry turned to glare at Draco. The two of them were alone in the corridors and that was the main reason why Draco initiated a conversation; otherwise, he would have just ignored what had happened.

"No! Not like—" Draco sighed before forcefully saying, "I mean problems with females! I didn't mean you, as a female, were having---"

Harry was quite amused to see his former enemy try to apologize, and Draco caught on to how much he was embarrassing himself. He scowled. Harry took note of his clenched fist and inability to look him in the eye. "Nevermind."

"No, I," Harry laughed, "understood you the first time."

Draco let out a splenetic sigh.

"Umm…kind of female problems, I guess," Harry said, not wanting the Slytherin to think he was purposely making him look stupid. If it had been a year or two ago, Harry would have done so, but since they were trying to start a friendship, he was being sincere. "She knows that I fancy her."

"The Mud—"

Draco gently closed his eyes, as if he realized his mistake. "Uh…sorry, Granger?"

Harry silently regarded his new friend. It seemed like Draco Malfoy was truly trying to change. After all, he corrected himself when Hermione was mentioned and sincerely seemed apologetic.

"Yeah…her. Truth is: you were right on the mark when you came to the first meeting. I do like Hermione. In more than a 'just friends' way, but see…she knows. Ron even knows, yet we haven't gotten the chance to talk about it together," Harry admitted, glancing down at his hands. He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. He and Draco started to walk to their next class since they would have it together.

"Well," Draco began, sounding like he was choosing his words carefully, "I guess I can see why you like her and maybe why Granger's not saying anything yet."

"Really?" Really?

'Yeah, I guess she's smart and she's not half bad looking—"

"And you noticed?"

Draco, who was watching his footsteps, glanced up in alarm.

This time Harry apologized with a smirk. "Sorry."

The boy shook his head, dismissing the other's remark. "Yes, I've noticed. I usually notice competition. Anyways, Granger is a good friend to you and you're probably really grateful for that. As to why she's not saying anything…well, the answer's pretty clear."

Harry stared blankly, and Draco sighed. "Look, you guys just made up, right? And Granger and Weasel—er, Weasley—just broke up. The main reason being you, I assume. You just have to wait for things to get back to normal. Reestablish your friendship with Granger and Weasel. Once things are fine and dandy, you can pursue her."

"So I have to wait awhile."

Draco impatiently pinched the bridge of his nose—something that Harry also did when he was irritated. "Are you daft when it comes to romance?"

"Not exactly daft…inexperienced, yes…but it's not like you are Casanova."

"What?"

"Nevermind. Muggle term."

"Whatever. Yes, Potter, you have to wait. Find more things to love about her. Find more things to talk about to her. Just let time run its course."

Despite the advice coming from none other than Draco Malfoy, Harry realized that it made sense to let the vestigial effects of his row with Hermione and Ron pass through. He admitted to himself that it seemed more comfortable to wait.

"Right." Harry awkwardly cleared his throat. "So…do you want to go first?" He gestured to the door. A Gryffindor and Slytherin walking in together would cause gossip to flare all over the place, but if they went in separately…

"Yeah, sure," answered Draco.

Harry shook his head. He could not believe how much things had changed. Not only was Draco speaking to him, he was also offering advice.

Everything was changing.

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