christmasspirit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
christmasspirit) wrote2020-05-29 01:12 am
christmasspirit) wrote2020-05-29 01:12 am
Entry tags:
- beginnings,
- christmas spirit au,
- daphne greengrass,
- draco malfoy,
- fanfic,
- friendship,
- ginny weasley,
- harper hutchinson,
- harry potter,
- hermione granger,
- hogwarts,
- hogwarts eighth year,
- luna lovegood,
- minerva mcgonagall,
- post-war,
- ron weasley,
- slight angst,
- susan bones,
- the beginnings,
- zacharias smith
"his (eighth) first day of school" by gingerbred
1st September, 1998. Harry, Ron and Hermione return for their eighth year. They aren't the only ones. Obviously.
Or: how things got started.
Another of my 'Drabble' fails 😉, written with oodles of love forlostangelsoul3. Happy Birthday, sweetie! 🎂🥳🎉🎁 (But please finish studying first. 😘)
Originally Published: 2020-05-29 on LJ / DW
Words: 3.6k, one shot, complete
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Characters: Harry Potter 8G, Draco Malfoy 8S, Hermione Granger 8G, Ron Weasley 8G, Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress), Zacharias Smith 7H, Ginny Weasley 7G, Harper Hutchinson 7S, Susan Bones 8H, Daphne Greengrass 8S, Luna Lovegood 7R, Mentioned: Theo Nott 8S, Pansy Parkinson 8S, Terry Boot 8R, Morag MacDougal 8R, Ernie Macmillan 8H, Justin Finch-Fletchley 8H, Hannah Abbott 7H
It was strange being back at Hogwarts for his eighth year, not that he'd really had a seventh as such. Harry had come really close to not returning, actually. But Hermione had worked on them, enlisting McGonagall's help - Harry's pretty darn sure 'Mione had been behind that anyway - until he and Ron had both caved. That was 'Mione to a 't'; the result had practically been a foregone conclusion. (Assuming one were to have thought about it to get there, anyhow; Harry's still more than partial to leaping, and does so with aplomb.)
Now, Ron...
He hasn't been the same, of course. Not since Fred...
That made perfect sense, no question about it, Harry wouldn't dream of blaming him in the least. But there are days Harry has trouble recognising his best friend in the husk presently shuffling along beside him.
McGonagall had given them permission to Apparate to the gates, Harry didn't think he could stomach the ride in the Hogwarts Express. 'Mione had seemed disappointed not to be riding the train back to school for what was sure to be the last time. Harry was less sure about that, at least in her case. He half suspected she'd end up back there teaching one day. She kept talking about 'educational reforms' and how so much of the troubles with the war could have been avoided, if only they'd done certain things differently... Taught things differently. She'd certainly talked a lot with McGonagall over the summer about that. Harry wondered sometimes how much of that was personal conviction, searching for something, anything constructive to do or simply down to needing a plausible excuse to escape Ron...
He hadn't made things easy for them this summer. Not that he should have, of course. No... But that doesn't change the facts. Harry has a suspicion it had been harder on 'Mione. She has a stronger need to try to fix things, and Ron tends to be a lot tougher on her. Harry can get away with so much more, deep down he knows it. And of course she had had quite different expectations from Harry's as to her relationship with Ron, most of which went up in smoke with so many other things that horrible last day they'd all been together at Hogwarts.
Ron hasn't been back since the battle. Watching him now, perhaps they should have tried this before, gotten in a little practice. It looks like he could have used it.
Ron had sided with Harry on Apparating back to school. He'd been able to rouse enough interest to care about that at least, and they'd been able to hold their ground. Prolly mostly because 'Mione had just been so happy to see Ron actually show a hint of liveliness again. She had a knack of getting her own way these days. When she doesn't, Harry can't help thinking it's because she chooses not to.
Gin, she'd refused to skip the ride, a 'rite of passage' she'd said, mimicking 'Mione's argument with a cheeky wink. It was bad enough George and... Fred had bunked off, no N.E.W.T.s in hand... She wasn't about to pass on all the normal things just because the boys couldn't take it. And that bit was Gin to a 't'. She had it easier, obviously, not being part of the 'golden trio', but Neville and Luna were meeting her and Gin was pretty determined, too, when she wanted a thing.
That sounded normal enough, Gin, Luna and Neville, except Neville was now the new Head of Gryffindor... Harry doesn't think he'll ever be able to wrap his head around that one... They Petrified him for Godric's sake. Left him lying face down on the Common Room floor... Well, 'Mione had, but still. It's hard to think he'd grown up to become... this. And he was still an apprentice, for goodness' sake.
Harry, Hermione and Ron cross the grounds silently, subdued, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione has been looking forward to the feast, a bit of normalcy, she thought it would do them some good. In a severe departure from their usual roles, Ron hasn't. He just couldn't take all the noise and fuss. Everywhere he looked, he felt he could see the figurative ghost of Fred. He was terrified he might actually encounter the literal ghost of his older brother, lurking around the school, trying to give Peeves a run for his Galleons. That'd be just like him.
Even worse, Ron's still not sure if that would be a good or a bad thing, and it really feels like something he should know...
Here again, in the days prior, Hermione had kept at them, subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) trying to work them with her attempts to drum up enthusiasm for the evening. From the look of Ron, she hadn't gotten far on that count. To be fair, it was much harder to do when so much had to be left unsaid. The gist, Harry had gathered, was this would give them new memories, happier things to associate with that... location. Except it was impossible to say 'happier' without calling to mind what had made the Great Hall such a sad place to begin with... No, that had just frustrated and sadden the both of them.
As they near the doors and sounds of voices reach them - 'Look! It's Harry!' 'Harry's back!' 'Everyone, come on!' 'Hurry!' - Ron pales and comes to a halt.
"I can't do it, mate. Sorry, but I can't do it."
Harry's "Sure you can, Ron..." and Hermione's "Ronald, you can't leave now" coincide; 'Mione's plea for his schooling drowns Harry out. "You'll need your N.E.W.T.s to be an Auror..."
It's an old argument by this point. He doesn't, and she knows it, but seems to think the next Minister might revoke Kingsley's offer to ignore their lack of qualifications. Ron figures he could always play Quidditch if Auror doesn't pan out, and doesn't see the problem. (Any suggestion he couldn't turn pro he takes to be a traitorous lack of faith in his Keeping skills, so Harry and Hermione have been trying - with middling success - to avoid it.) But he swears, 'Mione has gotten so much more uptight since the war.
But Ron isn't planning on leaving school, anyway, he just doesn't want to eat with all the rest in the Great Hall. It's too much. He can still picture his brother, all those people, laid out there...
They're still arguing when a throng of students comes hurrying towards them. Ron hastily explains his intentions in few words to the others, and peels off to the side. It may be a bit mean, but the truth is the mob is mostly fixated on Harry, and as long as Ron is elsewhere, he should escape their notice for a while.
Hermione watches him leave with a sinking feeling. This isn't the first time she's watched him do that, and it calls some unpleasant memories to mind. Somehow of late, there seem to be more and more of those. Harry doesn't have quite the same associations with Ron deserting them, leaving them to their fates, and he's staring at the oncoming hordes instead, much like a deer caught in headlights. Well, perhaps a buck and not a deer... Still.
She reaches for his hand and gives it a squeeze. "It'll be fine," she assures him with all the confidence she can muster, not believing a word of it. But then Harry's faced worse. Right here, in fact. Harry gives her a wan smile, but he squeezes her hand right back, and there's something in his warmth, the strength in his grasp, the solidity of his presence... She finds herself beginning to believe her thoroughly unfounded claim. Together they'll be alright; she's sure. "We mustn't keep them waiting," she quips and then starts for the doors and the crush of people, pulling Harry along behind her.
There's no putting this off any longer, and Harry steels himself for more of the mass stupidity that had led him to spend most of the summer in his Secret Kept home. He already knows exactly how this will go, just like every other public appearance of his in the last few months. He permits himself to cringe at the thought, but offers no resistance to 'Mione's gentle tug.
But they haven't gone more than a few steps when everything stops and shifts and changes, taking Harry by surprise.
Harry thinks it starts with an accusatory, "You!" from one of the Ravenclaws.
"You've got some nerve!" That sounded like seventh year Hufflepuff Smith, the tosser. Member of the DA or not, he'd abandoned them like a craven coward during the battle.
"I can't believe you'd dare show your face around here!" And that's Fay from Harry's year and House. By now he's sort of figured out they don't mean him, and he's turning around to look for the poor sod on the receiving end of all this... and spots the solitary figure coming up behind them...
Malfoy.
Malfoy, whose face is doing its best to look as stoic as humanly possible. Harry couldn't have pulled it off anywhere near as well. He tends to get too hot under the collar. But Malfoy... he's cool as they come.
Harry hasn't seen him since the hearings. He'd think the Slytherin is completely unaffected by all the names and insults now being hurled his way if it weren't for the fact the blonde has dropped what looks like two stone in a little over a month, which can't possibly be healthy. And it's not like Malfoy had ever been anything like chubby to begin with. He can't afford to lose that kind of weight. He looks... worn. Tired... Haggard.
Harry stares at him in disbelief for a moment, inadvertently allowing the abuse to continue unchecked in the process. He finally shakes his surprise off and is just about to say something to put an end to this when 'Mione beats him to it. "I take it none of you can read," she throws the mob's way in her best condescending manner. Harry winces innerly but has to smirk at some of the startled reactions. 'Mione never shies from a fight. "Because I know for a fact the Prophet reported he was cleared." She has their attention now. "And I also know it was front page news when we testified on Draco's behalf. So what is it? Are you back to calling Harry a liar? Is this how you thank him?"
Harry's grinning now, because he wouldn't have played that card, but coming from her, it seems to work. He trusts her judgment and lets her take the lead. Smith tries to muppet, something about Malfoy and Godric knows what he's supposed to have done last year, "It's not like you'd know. You weren't here last year."
And he really shouldn't have done that. 'Mione pounces, every inch the lioness. "And you weren't there at the battle. And you definitely weren't there when Draco put himself and his family at risk when he refused to identify us for Lestrange." Harry shoots her a quick look. Technically true, sure, but perhaps misleading in tone, but 'Mione has the broom firmly between her legs and just flies... "So tell me, Smith. What did you risk? What was your contribution to the war effort?" As she speaks, she's let go of Harry's hand and gone to Malfoy's side linking arms with his and tugging, just as she'd tugged Harry's only moments before.
Malfoy stands there blinking at her. Harry knows the feeling.
"I don't need help from a mu..." Draco finally responds, muttering under his breath.
Harry has flanked his other side, and just as lowly, he hisses at Malfoy, "Finish that sentence, and I'll hex you myself. And it would be a real shame to undo 'Mione's hard work."
"Stop self-sabotaging and accept the kindness, Malfoy," 'Mione whispers, not the least perturbed by the slur that was likely to follow. "It's time for dinner. We should get going or we'll be late."
"Like they could start without us..." Harry snarks.
Malfoy finds himself propelled forward by their combined effort, and soon begins to move in step with them before he's forced into an inelegant faceplant. There are more than enough reasons to mock him at present without adding fuel to the fire. Still, their presumption doesn't sit well with him and he feels the need to complain, if only so those two can hear. "Your conceit knows no bounds does it, Potter?"
"Don't be stupid, Malfoy. Half the school is out here."
"At least," Hermione agrees, looking quite pleased with herself. Perhaps it's better Ron hadn't been here for this. He's a bit too... volatile these days.
"Where did you come from anyway?" Harry asks as they enter the building.
Draco gives him a baleful look, "Well, when a pureblood witch and wizard are deemed a propitious match, advantageous to both of their family lines, their parents arrange a marriage. With suitable inducement, and be it only a Fidelity Vow, although financial incentives wouldn't go amiss..."
"You're a complete idiot, Malfoy," Harry hisses and Draco smirks, ever so slightly, and it's the first sign of life Harry's seen in him. Malfoy reminds him of Ron in some ways, the walking wounded... It's good to see something of the old prat back, which immediately strikes Harry as a very odd sentiment, and yet it's no less true.
Hermione just smiles benevolently, utterly unconcerned, "You need to work on your image. The appropriate useless response would have been, 'When a witch and a wizard love each other very much...' Stop playing to your audience's expectations, Malfoy. Change the narrative." She turns to Harry and answers his question, "Headmistress McGonagall gave him permission to Apparate here like we did. He was supposed to be in her office by now."
"I can't afford to drop the Anti-Apparition wards around the Manor, and it took some effort to leave the grounds... undetected today. Reporters... Well wishers..." comes the sarcastic addition. Harry winces again. At least the attention he was getting was positive. Malfoy seemed to attract just as much, but of a much darker nature. "They knew when I'd have to report to school..." He shrugs.
"Oh," comes Hermione's disappointed sigh. "I'm sorry. We should have thought of that..."
Malfoy gives her a puzzled look, failing to see how that had been any of her concern, and yet the sincerity of it spurs him to an honest reply. "I should have thought of it. I'm sure I could have arranged to spend the night elsewhere." Except they all know he couldn't. He's been under house arrest since the hearings. He was free to return to school, where he'll be stuck until graduation. Then another hearing will be held to see if the year's probation had been sufficient. Draco has no real hopes it will be lifted at that time, or in any of the successive years thereafter, for that matter.
As they approach the doors to the Great Hall, Harry's surprised to see the rest of the school gathered there, Professor McGonagall standing at the front before the closed doors. It reminds him a little of when he was a Firstie. And isn't at all they way this is usually done. McGonagall gives Malfoy a slightly disapproving look that Hermione can't help think was counterproductive, but she reads it properly, if no one else does. "I told you you should have met her beforehand."
That earns her a disparaging glance from the Slytherin, "Hmm. Yes. After the fact. And I believe we just covered that to our mutual satisfaction." Hermione pinks and Harry struggles to bite back his smirk, his visible amusement only buying him a disdainful glance of his own. Draco can't understand how Potter and Weasel have survived this long at the supercilious little witch's beck and call.
Lap dogs.
Evidently.
The others clear a path for them as they advance, greeted by more than a few confused whispers; this wasn't the trio they had been expecting to see. They come to a halt in front of the Headmistress, who, deeming enough have assembled, addresses the group now in a few words of welcome, "It's good to see so many of you have returned. We're eager to have things settle into a normal rhythm as soon as possible so as not to adversely affect your studies. That said, a few changes have been implemented as you shall soon see. We request your forbearance while everyone adjusts to those changes and that you kindly take your seats as quickly as possible so we can get the sorting underway." Which sounds sort of ominous but explains bugger all. She has Harry's attention. Malfoy's looks piqued, too, he thinks, no matter how cool the blond tries to play it. 'Mione, on the other hand, looks strangely expectant.
When McGonagall throws the doors wide, Harry can see why. The house tables are gone. In their place are small round tables, dotted about the room, and in a fashion which doesn't lend itself to an easy division in quarters. A quick count determines they'll seat maybe fifteen a pop. Hermione marches into the room, showing no sign of surprise, and still pulling Malfoy behind her, who in turn tugs Harry into motion, leads them to a table front and centre.
Malfoy stares at her, baffled. "What am I supposed to do?"
"This is called a 'chair'," she replies, imitating his earlier tone with some accuracy. "In the wizarding culture, as in the Muggle one, it is used primarily for sitting. I'd suggest doing so. Although I suppose you could always Transfigure it into an Armadillo were you so inclined..."
"You can't expect me to sit with you lot?" He ignores her sarcasm and simply gawks at her in disbelief. She Summons a small card with his name on it from the table and silently hands it to him. He finds himself taking it from her automatically and staring at it with some mortification.
"Had you appeared as expected in Headmistress McGonagall's office, you would know that is indeed the plan." Her hand waves idly in the direction of an oversized seating chart by the entrance.
It's Harry's turn to gawk now. Plan? She could have mentioned it. He follows that by now also being grateful Ron had decided to skip the feast.
Oof.
Hermione gives him an apologetic shrug but tugs them into their seats. Gin and Luna soon join them. It isn't long before Greengrass, and Nott do as well. Ravenclaws Terry Boot and Morag MacDougal take their seats, as do Hufflepuffs Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hannah Abbott. Hannah is officially a seventh year now, having missed so much school after her family's deaths; that shouldn't prove awkward in the mixed company in the least. Eighth year Slytherin Parkinson follows the rest more reluctantly. And now there are only two seats left.
Harry feels momentarily uncomfortable as Slytherin seventh year Prefect Harper Hutchinson slips into the seat beside Greengrass with a shy smile. That's five of them now, more than from any other single House at the table... Harry reminds himself that several of the others had fought for the DA and relaxes a bit. The numbers are on their side, but then, they almost always are.
Luna cheerily embarrasses Hutchinson further by greeting him enthusiastically by name. Daphne thinks she could rather grow to like the girl; she gives a friendly wave in reply. "I traded with Smith," Harper tries to explain as the card bearing just that name in front of him suddenly whisks off over his shoulder, and he replaces it with his own. "He didn't want to sit here..." Hutchinson looks uncomfortable as he says it, but Greengrass squeezes his hand, and he ends the thought with a shrug.
Hermione lets out a series of indignant noises with which she attempts to console the Slytherins that they shouldn't take the slight personally, and the Headmistress will soon be having a very stern word with Smith regarding his prejudices... Her bluster ends in chuckles when Hutchinson breaks it to her that Smith had been trying rather desperately to avoid her.
At first it's just the five Snakes. Soon the Ravenclaws join in, then the Hufflepuffs, and before long Harry and Ginny are laughing, too. Hermione blushes furiously, but has to see the humour in it, and soon the whole table is laughing good-naturedly. Susan Bones, place card in hand, takes the last remaining seat, adding a bit belatedly, "Anyone mind if I join you?" No one objects, and she asks the group, "What are we laughing at?"
"Zacharias would rather avoid Hermione than the Slytherins," Hannah replies, and the laughter regains momentum. Hermione obliges by blushing again.
As the laughter finally yields to conversation, much easier now, Draco looks around the table at the people seated there and with a bit of wonder realises this is the first time he's laughed, genuinely laughed in what may be years. He's more puzzled still when he catches Potter's eye, and the Gryffindor gives him an encouraging smile. And stranger yet, something he'd have bet any number of Galleons against just half an hour ago, he actually does find it encouraging.
This year may not be all bad after all. It's certainly proving good for some surprises...
Happy Birthday and many happier returns,lostangelsoul3! 🎈🎂🍰🧁🥳🎉
The story is mirrored on Dreamwidth and LiveJournal.
Other works by gingerbred can be found on Dreamwidth and LiveJournal.
ADDITIONAL STAND ALONE ONE SHOTS PLANNED FOR THIS UNIVERSE.
Or: how things got started.
Another of my 'Drabble' fails 😉, written with oodles of love for
lostangelsoul3. Happy Birthday, sweetie! 🎂🥳🎉🎁 (But please finish studying first. 😘)Originally Published: 2020-05-29 on LJ / DW
Words: 3.6k, one shot, complete
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Characters: Harry Potter 8G, Draco Malfoy 8S, Hermione Granger 8G, Ron Weasley 8G, Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress), Zacharias Smith 7H, Ginny Weasley 7G, Harper Hutchinson 7S, Susan Bones 8H, Daphne Greengrass 8S, Luna Lovegood 7R, Mentioned: Theo Nott 8S, Pansy Parkinson 8S, Terry Boot 8R, Morag MacDougal 8R, Ernie Macmillan 8H, Justin Finch-Fletchley 8H, Hannah Abbott 7H
1st September, 1998
It was strange being back at Hogwarts for his eighth year, not that he'd really had a seventh as such. Harry had come really close to not returning, actually. But Hermione had worked on them, enlisting McGonagall's help - Harry's pretty darn sure 'Mione had been behind that anyway - until he and Ron had both caved. That was 'Mione to a 't'; the result had practically been a foregone conclusion. (Assuming one were to have thought about it to get there, anyhow; Harry's still more than partial to leaping, and does so with aplomb.)
Now, Ron...
He hasn't been the same, of course. Not since Fred...
That made perfect sense, no question about it, Harry wouldn't dream of blaming him in the least. But there are days Harry has trouble recognising his best friend in the husk presently shuffling along beside him.
McGonagall had given them permission to Apparate to the gates, Harry didn't think he could stomach the ride in the Hogwarts Express. 'Mione had seemed disappointed not to be riding the train back to school for what was sure to be the last time. Harry was less sure about that, at least in her case. He half suspected she'd end up back there teaching one day. She kept talking about 'educational reforms' and how so much of the troubles with the war could have been avoided, if only they'd done certain things differently... Taught things differently. She'd certainly talked a lot with McGonagall over the summer about that. Harry wondered sometimes how much of that was personal conviction, searching for something, anything constructive to do or simply down to needing a plausible excuse to escape Ron...
He hadn't made things easy for them this summer. Not that he should have, of course. No... But that doesn't change the facts. Harry has a suspicion it had been harder on 'Mione. She has a stronger need to try to fix things, and Ron tends to be a lot tougher on her. Harry can get away with so much more, deep down he knows it. And of course she had had quite different expectations from Harry's as to her relationship with Ron, most of which went up in smoke with so many other things that horrible last day they'd all been together at Hogwarts.
Ron hasn't been back since the battle. Watching him now, perhaps they should have tried this before, gotten in a little practice. It looks like he could have used it.
Ron had sided with Harry on Apparating back to school. He'd been able to rouse enough interest to care about that at least, and they'd been able to hold their ground. Prolly mostly because 'Mione had just been so happy to see Ron actually show a hint of liveliness again. She had a knack of getting her own way these days. When she doesn't, Harry can't help thinking it's because she chooses not to.
Gin, she'd refused to skip the ride, a 'rite of passage' she'd said, mimicking 'Mione's argument with a cheeky wink. It was bad enough George and... Fred had bunked off, no N.E.W.T.s in hand... She wasn't about to pass on all the normal things just because the boys couldn't take it. And that bit was Gin to a 't'. She had it easier, obviously, not being part of the 'golden trio', but Neville and Luna were meeting her and Gin was pretty determined, too, when she wanted a thing.
That sounded normal enough, Gin, Luna and Neville, except Neville was now the new Head of Gryffindor... Harry doesn't think he'll ever be able to wrap his head around that one... They Petrified him for Godric's sake. Left him lying face down on the Common Room floor... Well, 'Mione had, but still. It's hard to think he'd grown up to become... this. And he was still an apprentice, for goodness' sake.
Harry, Hermione and Ron cross the grounds silently, subdued, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione has been looking forward to the feast, a bit of normalcy, she thought it would do them some good. In a severe departure from their usual roles, Ron hasn't. He just couldn't take all the noise and fuss. Everywhere he looked, he felt he could see the figurative ghost of Fred. He was terrified he might actually encounter the literal ghost of his older brother, lurking around the school, trying to give Peeves a run for his Galleons. That'd be just like him.
Even worse, Ron's still not sure if that would be a good or a bad thing, and it really feels like something he should know...
Here again, in the days prior, Hermione had kept at them, subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) trying to work them with her attempts to drum up enthusiasm for the evening. From the look of Ron, she hadn't gotten far on that count. To be fair, it was much harder to do when so much had to be left unsaid. The gist, Harry had gathered, was this would give them new memories, happier things to associate with that... location. Except it was impossible to say 'happier' without calling to mind what had made the Great Hall such a sad place to begin with... No, that had just frustrated and sadden the both of them.
As they near the doors and sounds of voices reach them - 'Look! It's Harry!' 'Harry's back!' 'Everyone, come on!' 'Hurry!' - Ron pales and comes to a halt.
"I can't do it, mate. Sorry, but I can't do it."
Harry's "Sure you can, Ron..." and Hermione's "Ronald, you can't leave now" coincide; 'Mione's plea for his schooling drowns Harry out. "You'll need your N.E.W.T.s to be an Auror..."
It's an old argument by this point. He doesn't, and she knows it, but seems to think the next Minister might revoke Kingsley's offer to ignore their lack of qualifications. Ron figures he could always play Quidditch if Auror doesn't pan out, and doesn't see the problem. (Any suggestion he couldn't turn pro he takes to be a traitorous lack of faith in his Keeping skills, so Harry and Hermione have been trying - with middling success - to avoid it.) But he swears, 'Mione has gotten so much more uptight since the war.
But Ron isn't planning on leaving school, anyway, he just doesn't want to eat with all the rest in the Great Hall. It's too much. He can still picture his brother, all those people, laid out there...
They're still arguing when a throng of students comes hurrying towards them. Ron hastily explains his intentions in few words to the others, and peels off to the side. It may be a bit mean, but the truth is the mob is mostly fixated on Harry, and as long as Ron is elsewhere, he should escape their notice for a while.
Hermione watches him leave with a sinking feeling. This isn't the first time she's watched him do that, and it calls some unpleasant memories to mind. Somehow of late, there seem to be more and more of those. Harry doesn't have quite the same associations with Ron deserting them, leaving them to their fates, and he's staring at the oncoming hordes instead, much like a deer caught in headlights. Well, perhaps a buck and not a deer... Still.
She reaches for his hand and gives it a squeeze. "It'll be fine," she assures him with all the confidence she can muster, not believing a word of it. But then Harry's faced worse. Right here, in fact. Harry gives her a wan smile, but he squeezes her hand right back, and there's something in his warmth, the strength in his grasp, the solidity of his presence... She finds herself beginning to believe her thoroughly unfounded claim. Together they'll be alright; she's sure. "We mustn't keep them waiting," she quips and then starts for the doors and the crush of people, pulling Harry along behind her.
There's no putting this off any longer, and Harry steels himself for more of the mass stupidity that had led him to spend most of the summer in his Secret Kept home. He already knows exactly how this will go, just like every other public appearance of his in the last few months. He permits himself to cringe at the thought, but offers no resistance to 'Mione's gentle tug.
But they haven't gone more than a few steps when everything stops and shifts and changes, taking Harry by surprise.
Harry thinks it starts with an accusatory, "You!" from one of the Ravenclaws.
"You've got some nerve!" That sounded like seventh year Hufflepuff Smith, the tosser. Member of the DA or not, he'd abandoned them like a craven coward during the battle.
"I can't believe you'd dare show your face around here!" And that's Fay from Harry's year and House. By now he's sort of figured out they don't mean him, and he's turning around to look for the poor sod on the receiving end of all this... and spots the solitary figure coming up behind them...
Malfoy.
Malfoy, whose face is doing its best to look as stoic as humanly possible. Harry couldn't have pulled it off anywhere near as well. He tends to get too hot under the collar. But Malfoy... he's cool as they come.
Harry hasn't seen him since the hearings. He'd think the Slytherin is completely unaffected by all the names and insults now being hurled his way if it weren't for the fact the blonde has dropped what looks like two stone in a little over a month, which can't possibly be healthy. And it's not like Malfoy had ever been anything like chubby to begin with. He can't afford to lose that kind of weight. He looks... worn. Tired... Haggard.
Harry stares at him in disbelief for a moment, inadvertently allowing the abuse to continue unchecked in the process. He finally shakes his surprise off and is just about to say something to put an end to this when 'Mione beats him to it. "I take it none of you can read," she throws the mob's way in her best condescending manner. Harry winces innerly but has to smirk at some of the startled reactions. 'Mione never shies from a fight. "Because I know for a fact the Prophet reported he was cleared." She has their attention now. "And I also know it was front page news when we testified on Draco's behalf. So what is it? Are you back to calling Harry a liar? Is this how you thank him?"
Harry's grinning now, because he wouldn't have played that card, but coming from her, it seems to work. He trusts her judgment and lets her take the lead. Smith tries to muppet, something about Malfoy and Godric knows what he's supposed to have done last year, "It's not like you'd know. You weren't here last year."
And he really shouldn't have done that. 'Mione pounces, every inch the lioness. "And you weren't there at the battle. And you definitely weren't there when Draco put himself and his family at risk when he refused to identify us for Lestrange." Harry shoots her a quick look. Technically true, sure, but perhaps misleading in tone, but 'Mione has the broom firmly between her legs and just flies... "So tell me, Smith. What did you risk? What was your contribution to the war effort?" As she speaks, she's let go of Harry's hand and gone to Malfoy's side linking arms with his and tugging, just as she'd tugged Harry's only moments before.
Malfoy stands there blinking at her. Harry knows the feeling.
"I don't need help from a mu..." Draco finally responds, muttering under his breath.
Harry has flanked his other side, and just as lowly, he hisses at Malfoy, "Finish that sentence, and I'll hex you myself. And it would be a real shame to undo 'Mione's hard work."
"Stop self-sabotaging and accept the kindness, Malfoy," 'Mione whispers, not the least perturbed by the slur that was likely to follow. "It's time for dinner. We should get going or we'll be late."
"Like they could start without us..." Harry snarks.
Malfoy finds himself propelled forward by their combined effort, and soon begins to move in step with them before he's forced into an inelegant faceplant. There are more than enough reasons to mock him at present without adding fuel to the fire. Still, their presumption doesn't sit well with him and he feels the need to complain, if only so those two can hear. "Your conceit knows no bounds does it, Potter?"
"Don't be stupid, Malfoy. Half the school is out here."
"At least," Hermione agrees, looking quite pleased with herself. Perhaps it's better Ron hadn't been here for this. He's a bit too... volatile these days.
"Where did you come from anyway?" Harry asks as they enter the building.
Draco gives him a baleful look, "Well, when a pureblood witch and wizard are deemed a propitious match, advantageous to both of their family lines, their parents arrange a marriage. With suitable inducement, and be it only a Fidelity Vow, although financial incentives wouldn't go amiss..."
"You're a complete idiot, Malfoy," Harry hisses and Draco smirks, ever so slightly, and it's the first sign of life Harry's seen in him. Malfoy reminds him of Ron in some ways, the walking wounded... It's good to see something of the old prat back, which immediately strikes Harry as a very odd sentiment, and yet it's no less true.
Hermione just smiles benevolently, utterly unconcerned, "You need to work on your image. The appropriate useless response would have been, 'When a witch and a wizard love each other very much...' Stop playing to your audience's expectations, Malfoy. Change the narrative." She turns to Harry and answers his question, "Headmistress McGonagall gave him permission to Apparate here like we did. He was supposed to be in her office by now."
"I can't afford to drop the Anti-Apparition wards around the Manor, and it took some effort to leave the grounds... undetected today. Reporters... Well wishers..." comes the sarcastic addition. Harry winces again. At least the attention he was getting was positive. Malfoy seemed to attract just as much, but of a much darker nature. "They knew when I'd have to report to school..." He shrugs.
"Oh," comes Hermione's disappointed sigh. "I'm sorry. We should have thought of that..."
Malfoy gives her a puzzled look, failing to see how that had been any of her concern, and yet the sincerity of it spurs him to an honest reply. "I should have thought of it. I'm sure I could have arranged to spend the night elsewhere." Except they all know he couldn't. He's been under house arrest since the hearings. He was free to return to school, where he'll be stuck until graduation. Then another hearing will be held to see if the year's probation had been sufficient. Draco has no real hopes it will be lifted at that time, or in any of the successive years thereafter, for that matter.
As they approach the doors to the Great Hall, Harry's surprised to see the rest of the school gathered there, Professor McGonagall standing at the front before the closed doors. It reminds him a little of when he was a Firstie. And isn't at all they way this is usually done. McGonagall gives Malfoy a slightly disapproving look that Hermione can't help think was counterproductive, but she reads it properly, if no one else does. "I told you you should have met her beforehand."
That earns her a disparaging glance from the Slytherin, "Hmm. Yes. After the fact. And I believe we just covered that to our mutual satisfaction." Hermione pinks and Harry struggles to bite back his smirk, his visible amusement only buying him a disdainful glance of his own. Draco can't understand how Potter and Weasel have survived this long at the supercilious little witch's beck and call.
Lap dogs.
Evidently.
The others clear a path for them as they advance, greeted by more than a few confused whispers; this wasn't the trio they had been expecting to see. They come to a halt in front of the Headmistress, who, deeming enough have assembled, addresses the group now in a few words of welcome, "It's good to see so many of you have returned. We're eager to have things settle into a normal rhythm as soon as possible so as not to adversely affect your studies. That said, a few changes have been implemented as you shall soon see. We request your forbearance while everyone adjusts to those changes and that you kindly take your seats as quickly as possible so we can get the sorting underway." Which sounds sort of ominous but explains bugger all. She has Harry's attention. Malfoy's looks piqued, too, he thinks, no matter how cool the blond tries to play it. 'Mione, on the other hand, looks strangely expectant.
When McGonagall throws the doors wide, Harry can see why. The house tables are gone. In their place are small round tables, dotted about the room, and in a fashion which doesn't lend itself to an easy division in quarters. A quick count determines they'll seat maybe fifteen a pop. Hermione marches into the room, showing no sign of surprise, and still pulling Malfoy behind her, who in turn tugs Harry into motion, leads them to a table front and centre.
Malfoy stares at her, baffled. "What am I supposed to do?"
"This is called a 'chair'," she replies, imitating his earlier tone with some accuracy. "In the wizarding culture, as in the Muggle one, it is used primarily for sitting. I'd suggest doing so. Although I suppose you could always Transfigure it into an Armadillo were you so inclined..."
"You can't expect me to sit with you lot?" He ignores her sarcasm and simply gawks at her in disbelief. She Summons a small card with his name on it from the table and silently hands it to him. He finds himself taking it from her automatically and staring at it with some mortification.
"Had you appeared as expected in Headmistress McGonagall's office, you would know that is indeed the plan." Her hand waves idly in the direction of an oversized seating chart by the entrance.
It's Harry's turn to gawk now. Plan? She could have mentioned it. He follows that by now also being grateful Ron had decided to skip the feast.
Oof.
Hermione gives him an apologetic shrug but tugs them into their seats. Gin and Luna soon join them. It isn't long before Greengrass, and Nott do as well. Ravenclaws Terry Boot and Morag MacDougal take their seats, as do Hufflepuffs Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hannah Abbott. Hannah is officially a seventh year now, having missed so much school after her family's deaths; that shouldn't prove awkward in the mixed company in the least. Eighth year Slytherin Parkinson follows the rest more reluctantly. And now there are only two seats left.
Harry feels momentarily uncomfortable as Slytherin seventh year Prefect Harper Hutchinson slips into the seat beside Greengrass with a shy smile. That's five of them now, more than from any other single House at the table... Harry reminds himself that several of the others had fought for the DA and relaxes a bit. The numbers are on their side, but then, they almost always are.
Luna cheerily embarrasses Hutchinson further by greeting him enthusiastically by name. Daphne thinks she could rather grow to like the girl; she gives a friendly wave in reply. "I traded with Smith," Harper tries to explain as the card bearing just that name in front of him suddenly whisks off over his shoulder, and he replaces it with his own. "He didn't want to sit here..." Hutchinson looks uncomfortable as he says it, but Greengrass squeezes his hand, and he ends the thought with a shrug.
Hermione lets out a series of indignant noises with which she attempts to console the Slytherins that they shouldn't take the slight personally, and the Headmistress will soon be having a very stern word with Smith regarding his prejudices... Her bluster ends in chuckles when Hutchinson breaks it to her that Smith had been trying rather desperately to avoid her.
At first it's just the five Snakes. Soon the Ravenclaws join in, then the Hufflepuffs, and before long Harry and Ginny are laughing, too. Hermione blushes furiously, but has to see the humour in it, and soon the whole table is laughing good-naturedly. Susan Bones, place card in hand, takes the last remaining seat, adding a bit belatedly, "Anyone mind if I join you?" No one objects, and she asks the group, "What are we laughing at?"
"Zacharias would rather avoid Hermione than the Slytherins," Hannah replies, and the laughter regains momentum. Hermione obliges by blushing again.
As the laughter finally yields to conversation, much easier now, Draco looks around the table at the people seated there and with a bit of wonder realises this is the first time he's laughed, genuinely laughed in what may be years. He's more puzzled still when he catches Potter's eye, and the Gryffindor gives him an encouraging smile. And stranger yet, something he'd have bet any number of Galleons against just half an hour ago, he actually does find it encouraging.
This year may not be all bad after all. It's certainly proving good for some surprises...
Happy Birthday and many happier returns,
lostangelsoul3! 🎈🎂🍰🧁🥳🎉The story is mirrored on Dreamwidth and LiveJournal.
Other works by gingerbred can be found on Dreamwidth and LiveJournal.
ADDITIONAL STAND ALONE ONE SHOTS PLANNED FOR THIS UNIVERSE.