"soaring part 9" by gingerbred
Aug. 7th, 2023 09:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
christmasspiritchapter 09 musing
Characters: Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Harper Hutchinson
14 September, 1998. Ginny has news for Neville. Harry derives some pleasure from teasing Malfoy and spends some time thinking about Hermione.
Originally Published: 2023-08-07 on LJ / DW
Words: 6.8 k
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Characters: Harry Potter (8G, Captain, Seeker), Ginny Weasley (7G, Chaser), Neville Longbottom (newly minted Herbology Apprentice and Head of Gryffindor), Draco Malfoy (8S, Prefect, Captain, Seeker), Hermione Granger (8G, Head Girl), Theo Nott (8S, Hestia's), Pansy Parkinson (8S, Prefect), Daphne Greengrass (8S), Harper Hutchinson (7S, Prefect, Chaser)
Mentioned briefly: Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress), Ron Weasley (8G, Prefect, Keeper), Seamus Finnigan (8G fiery Reserve Beater, long time friend of Lavender's), Dean Thomas (8G, Chaser)
Previously:
The previouslies are very robust. If you've recently read the Christmas Spirit stories, skip them, if not, no worries, I've got you covered. You can find links to the individual stories / chapters in the "christmas spirit index" (LJ / DW / AO3).
Mid July, 1998. Refusing to accept the excuse he'd been Imperiused, the Wizengamot erroneously sentences Stan Shunpike to Azkaban. Hermione rails at the injustice, which naturally does bugger all to change things in the slightest. S 01
12 September, 1998. A group of masked individuals attack Draco and Pansy, the 8th year Slytherin Prefects, as they make their rounds. Harry and Ron, coincidentally in the vicinity due to some late night mischief of their own, come to their rescue. S 02
13 September, 1998. Off a suggestion of Hermione's and after discussing it solely with Filius, Minerva decides to expand the eighth year's privileges, eliminating their curfew, amongst other things, with an eye to giving the the eldest students, and most particularly the Ravenclaws, something to lose with bad behaviour. In the wake of the massive point deductions after the attack on the Prefects, House points will have lost their relevancy for the group most in need of discipline. The hope is this will see the students more actively police one another. S 06
13 September, 1998. The news of an attack on students at Hogwarts upsets Ginny greatly, and she's struggling not to have a panic attack. Neville, in an effort to reassure her, promises he'll let her know if the Troubles are returning to the school. For her part, she helps bolster his confidence a bit, which is flagging given the somewhat dismissive treatment Minerva tends to subject him to as he struggles in his new role as Head of House. S 07
13 September, 1998. Ron tells Harry and Ginny that the Masks the attackers wore are Mischief Masks, one of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' range. Harry wants to report them to Professor McGonagall, but Ron makes it clear that's likely to cause some unfortunate repercussions for his brother which neither Harry nor Ginny wish to risk. Both are annoyed at Ron for keeping the Masks a secret (for all of maybe three quarters of a day), and Harry, especially, blames him for the feeling that he can't tell Professor McGonagall about the the Masks. To get back a bit of his own, and much to Ginny's readily apparent amusement, he asks Malfoy to come flying with him instead of Ron. The two Gryffindors see it as a bit of harmless fun, a shared 'naff off' to the absent ginger, and it matters not a whit when Malfoy refuses to bite. S 07
14 September, 1998. After Ron catches Ginny holding hands with Dean, she rows with her brother about his overbearing attempts to dictate her behaviour. She's not above getting physical to make her point when needed, as the state of the couch pillows can attest, and thoroughly irked, she storms from the room, leaving Ron with a fearsome Bat-Bogey Hex to remember her by, albeit not warmly. S 08
Late afternoon, Monday, 14 September, 1998
One of the Hogwarts GreenhousesGinny sweeps into the greenhouse, where Neville's elbows deep in his pots. She seems to have left her broom in the dorms, for which he's nontrivially grateful. Its absence, however, only very fractionally increases the budding Herbologist's quite evident enthusiasm upon seeing her.
"Ginny! Hey!
"Look!" He calls out, gesturing with one very dirty hand at a row of... something or another he's clearly just planted on. Whatever it is, it seems exceedingly ill tempered, for a plant anyway, which typically fazes him not at all. She smiles at her friend's excitement. "I took your advice - top notch, by the way - borrowed a couple of Potions texts and have begun planting accordingly."
She's pretty sure that wasn't her advice, but on the other hand she doesn't mind the praise. Laughing, she double checks, "Potions?" Merlin knows, she's heard the stories from Ron and Harry.
"As long as I don't have to brew them," he laughs easily, too, in reply. "But I can memorise the required ingredients and their applications, and I can accommodate their ideal growing requirements as well as those of any other plant, so I thought I'd give it a try. Y'know, digging out a 'competency niche' and all that." Yeah, that sounds more like her; any and everything 'Potions' not so much. "Pomona was happy to have me take the new plants off her hands, so this is my project," his arm prescribes an arc that includes much of this particular greenhouse, and she realises just how much of a task he's taken on.
She waffles a moment, worrying she might have helped set him up for failure with her encouragement, and then takes in his smile and his quietly confident air, deciding this was just what he needed. He's good at this, he just needs an opportunity to bloom.
"Wow," she replies, meaning it as she looks around the room.
"It's going to be amazing," he beams. Right now it's mostly a bunch of dirt and small bits of snapping and snarling green in pots, but she thinks he might be right on that count. It's a little difficult for her to see into the future as he does, already envisioning what each of the plants will look like at their peek, but she trusts his vision.
"You did all this since yesterday?" She sounds genuinely impressed and he's beaming as he laughs.
"There are Spells for that, you know. You cast Geminio to make the required number of pots, a simple Wingardium Leviosa Charm to set them into place..." Thinking of the couch pillows in the common room, she looks impressed by his aim and he laughs again, intuiting at least part of the issue. "There's another to straighten the rows. Another yet to fill the pots with dirt, and a Tergeo to tidy up after. Easy peasy, with a spot of planning and if you're organised. It's only the planting that takes time, and even much of that you can do magically. There aren't but a small handful of ingredients I'm trying to grow that are overly fussy about the actual planting process."
Slightly less certain he then asks, "Or did you mean getting the seedlings in that quickly? When you place an order of that size, they're more than happy to fly it in for you..." He sounds a little disappointed at the thought she wasn't impressed by his crop.
It's Ginny's turn to laugh, "No, you numpty, I meant all this," and grinning affectionately, she mimics his gesture with his arm from moments before as he showed her the room. It's a good deal more graceful when she does it.
"Y'know, all your bitey bits o' green," she concludes, with a slightly distrusting glance at the plants to his other side. Well she isn't wrong, they do have a temper.
"What brought you here anyway?" He asks, acknowledging it's a first outside of classes.
Ginny's lips purse, but she manages not to growl; Neville doesn't deserve that. "Ron," she explains simply when she has her response under control. Neville's known both Weasleys long enough that the monosyllabic reply actually serves as an explanation.
"Did you want to talk about it?" He offers, clapping the dirt off his hands until they're freed enough that he can apply a wandless Tergeo with some success.
She shakes her head 'no', "It was nothing new." She hops up onto the counter to sit beside his workspace. "Doesn't make it less frustrating.
"Yet," she adds as an afterthought. Time will heal that source of annoyance one way or another. At the latest when they graduate, of this she is sure.
"Do you want me to take points?" Neville jokes. They both know he wouldn't dream of it, although that alleviates any potential guilt, and she laughs again, already feeling much better.
"I had some news about the attack on Parkinson and Malfoy, by the way. I figured there was a good chance you hadn't heard and thought I owed you an update, too." Ginny's quick to fill him in, although she leaves out the information Ron had provided about the Masks; she just can't do that to George. That's probably for the best, though. No need to put Nev in an awkward situation.
Ginny's right, he hadn't heard the full version. He doesn't know why it still surprises him that she'd know more than he would about it. Well, except for expecting more of the Headmistress. Yeah. Well. He considers for a moment, weighing his obligations towards staff as an apprentice and Head of House - will that ever not be strange? - against the pledge he'd made Ginny only yesterday, to alert her if the Death Eaters or their ilk were ever a threat again at the school, debating where his loyalty lies. Really, and especially in light of the secrets Prof... Minerva was keeping, he doesn't have to consider it long. "For what it's worth, and even though she kept things from staff, too, on balance, I don't think Professor McGonagall thought you were in any danger."
Ginny remains rather apparently unconvinced, and he tries again.
"If anything, the very fact she didn't tell us everything..." Neville begins to reassure her, except Ginny looks instantly cross at the very idea he'd have been kept out of the loop. He grins, nudges her with his shoulder, chuckles and adds, "As annoying as that might be, it's a pretty good indicator of how safe she thinks you are. I'm fairly certain she wouldn't have risked it otherwise." It's nice of him to give his boss the benefit of the doubt like that, and while he's not entirely correct, it's certainly more true than it had ever been while Dumbledore was Headmaster. Unfortunately it's of little help when Minerva's wrong, and her propensity not to share with other staff members means she isn't getting the advice or even potentially necessary information she might need to better gauge the situation in the first place.
"So just the Snakes then?" Ginny asks, relief beginning to creep into her tone.
He nods, "Either as a whole or just those two specifically, yeah."
Ginny's pulse had jumped when he'd started talking about the Headmistress and her response to the attack, proof, had the young woman still needed it, that her nerves are most definitely frayed. It wasn't that what Neville had to say was worse than what she'd reported to him; objectively it wasn't, not when considered after the fact. It was not knowing what was going to come out of his mouth next as he spoke. She had no control over what he was going to say, and no advance knowledge that it was all going to be alright to comfort her... Her peace, when she finds it, isn't particularly robust. In situations like these, it shows, at least if one were looking.
But the longer Nev speaks, the more she calms, like he understands what she needs to hear. It's not that she thinks he's making it up - not at all, she's sure he wouldn't - just that often things don't get mentioned, and he knows when to speak up, what should be said.
Neville can see the effect his words have on her, the way she relaxes, how she trusts him... and it's flattering. He's human, he's far from immune to things like that, and so he expands on his vow from the day before. "If that ever changes, I promise to let you know the minute she thinks you, any of you, are at risk." Ginny finally exhales in relief, dead sure he means it.
Someone else might notice how Neville's framing doesn't seem to include the demonstratively threatened Slytherins - neither as a whole, nor those two Prefects specifically - but for the two Moggies, it makes perfect sense. Professor McGonagall had been their Head of House for absolute yonks. She'd keep them safe; once they give it some thought, of that they are sure.
Ginny nods, that matter satisfactorily settled, and gives Neville's upper arm a gentle squeeze in silent gratitude. It seemed safest as it's one of the few areas presently not covered in potting soil, she grins. The young Herbologist considerately refrains from patting her hand in return. With the state of his hands... But he gestures in acknowledgment; attention drawn briefly to his literally dirty mitts, they both smirk at the all too obvious signs of his productivity.
Completely at ease now and her mission accomplished, Ginny still doesn't leave. She's no need nor desire to go to the library, and even less to return to her dorm where Ron and Dean might still be battling it out for all she knows, possibly now with Harry thrown in for good measure as well. "Can I give you a hand here?" She asks instead, looking at the stacks of still empty pots.
Neville considers for a moment which of the prickly specimens he can put in her strong, but admittedly less skilful, hands, and making a careful selection he points her to a few of his new seedlings, just in from Hogsmeade. The two work together, chatting happily as they do, until Neville's Tempus lets them know it's time for the meal.
Ginny emulates Neville's earlier approach to cleaning his hands, only to start at the result. Her nails look fairly frightening, and even Trelawney should be able to see the lines of her palm from their respective tables in the Great Hall. Possibly without using her glasses at that.
Nev laughs at Ginny's expression, and performs two wandless Charms in quick succession. "That last one is really good for cleaning your nails," he explains. Too right. They look better than when she'd started.
"Careful where you cast that," she teases. "Lavender might just kill for a Charm like that."
"You know there'd be nothing wrong with teaching her the Charm instead," he points out. For a very brief moment she appears - ever so slightly - crestfallen at the implied chastisement - Merlin knows there's enough of it in the dorms - until he grins, "It's definitely preferable to the alternative of her killing you for it. Who else would keep me informed?" The wink at the end does it. She pauses only until he's finished cleaning himself, his workspace can wait she decides, and he barely has time to cast a Stasis charm to keep the humidity stable before she drags him towards the Great Hall and dinner.
Given the new seating arrangements - and bugger them to hell and back - it doesn't even really matter if he's stuck at the High Table, they were unlikely to have been sitting together anyway.
Dinner, Monday, 14 September, 1998
The Great Hall"Malfoy, come flying tonight," Harry's crooning again, arms extended horizontally at shoulder height to make swooshing gestures, and as large as their table is, often making conversation unnecessarily difficult, it still doesn't have room for this sort of thing at all. Hermione has to duck not to get hit by one of those swooping arms, Malfoy doesn't fare much better. At a guess, she just attempted to kick Harry again, his smirk would suggest he was able to dodge successfully.
At a further guess, Ginny reckons those extended arms represent area-plane wings, and smiles fondly at her two friends. Muggle raised, the both of them, it seems an obvious association to them, the sea of confused faces watching the display, however, would indicate this to be the perfect moment for precisely the sort of cultural exchange the Headmistress had hoped the new seating arrangement might bring. Might, except neither of them register it or think to explain, and most of the rest are far too sure Potter's a nutter to bother to ask. Ginny can thank her father's obsession with all things Muggle that she recognised Harry's impression in the first place. If Arthur Weasley weren't such an avid collector of Muggle trivia and artefacts, it wouldn't have occurred to her either. As is, it makes for a particularly silly imitation of a Petrificus Totalused Hippogriff, failing as he does to flap even once.
Harry's swooshing noises that now accompany the performance and the occasional bits of blather he squeezes in about the assorted benefits of late night flying only serve to reinforce the whole 'nutter' impression for the rest. Ginny's is the only smile, but then she's also the only one in on the gag. It seems Harry means to keep this up for some time yet.
"Malfoy, come flying." It's like it's a joke told solely for Ginny's benefit - Hermione certainly doesn't seem to be enjoying it, if all the kicking is anything to go by anyroad - so for an audience of one at their full table, and everyone else hears something entirely different to her when Harry speaks. That thought alone makes it pretty cool, and the youngest Weasley smiles more broadly.
"We're only weeks - weeks! - away from the match.
"Malfoy, come flyyyyyy-ing." Unlike most jokes, it grows funnier with each telling, with Harry becoming more effusive in his gestures and Ginny struggling harder not to laugh or inhale something. Of course that's made more difficult by the fact Harry always waits for her to drink something before he begins, the fool muppet.
"Without more practice, you'll just be left in my... er, clouds." Harry ever so briefly interrupts his area-plane impression for a fair bit of gesticulation, presumably to illustrate the absurd size of those anticipated clouds, Malfoy and Hermione seeming about equally piqued at the theatrics. Ginny has to fight back the tears at their inadvertently synchronised response, stereo scowls to Harry's either side, like human gargoyles.
"You know with some decent acceleration - if you weren't such a slow coach, anyway - maybe we could finally do something about your hair." Harry makes what is evidently a very threatening mussing gesture, at least if Malfoy's expression can be taken at face value.
Leaning back so as to be out of reach, and he looks almost ready to cast a Protego, too, Malfoy apparently doesn't trust Harry not to get handsy, and bloody hell, there goes her pumpkin juice, up her nose again. It sort of burns.
The creature finally speaks, "And wind up looking like you?" Malfoy sounds appropriately horrified.
Merlin's beard, more pumpkin juice.
The accompanying gesture of disdain for Harry's coiffure is ruined by the need to avoid Harry's still swooping arms. Harry, having clocked the problem almost immediately, begins actively chasing Malfoy's now flapping hand with one of his 'wings', the blond growing visibly more annoyed the longer it progresses.
"Is that a helmet?" Harry keeps going.
Ginny snorts into her napkin, thankful to be able to breathe properly again.
"Harry!" Hermione wheezes, mortified and to little avail, when her repeated kicks also fail to achieve the desired results.
"Y'know, if you're going to wear it like that, it really should be. Something solid to protect against collision..." The nearest 'wing' is dead on course for Malfoy's sleek hair, and just millimetres away the blonde's hand shoots up and arrests Harry's arm midflight. He's fast. The look of surprise on the Moggie's face provides cause for a certain degree of satisfaction.
Good.
"It wouldn't be required if people knew how to fly." Draco hisses as he relinquishes his hold, half throwing Potter's arm back at him in the process.
"That's what I've been saying, you need to get some practice in," he beams at the Slytherin, but at least he keeps his hands to himself now. "Come flying with me tonight."
Harry had a slightly different take on the interaction. Gin's laughter is encouraging, unquestionably. There's no doubt it spurs him on, but on the other hand it wasn't really his motive here.
Now that he's started thinking about 'Mione and if she might be interested in Malfoy - Malfoy, bloody hell - he's begun observing them both more. 'Mione had encouraged her friend - repeatedly - since start of term to try to include the blond... somehow. Harry had never been sure what precisely she thought that should look like. 'Atta wizard, Malfoy!' Hardly. He'd joked once that he could ask him to come flying, except she'd thought it a brilliant idea, so... Blinkered, clearly blinkered. Include him in conversation? There were five Snakes sat at their table and only the three of them, maybe four if you counted Luna as an honourable Gryffindor. (She'd be kind enough to overlook the inherent slight.) Malfoy didn't speak all too much anyway, and whatever conversation he felt like having was entirely with his housemates. Anyway, 'Mione's suggestion was silly, patently, but now Harry's begun to wonder about her motives for making it.
So, yeah, that was at least somewhat suspicious, and then her reaction to him basically doing as she'd asked - all these attempts to kick him in the shins whenever he asked Malfoy to join him on the pitch - that was suspicious as well. Admittedly it was a tricky call to make, as she's likely to do it if she thought he were being too mean, too. He'll need to experiment more to better get behind it. But those are two data points that are now well included in his calculations, and he plans to keep a sharp eye out for more.
The other thing, now that he's actively taking it in, is that Malfoy - as noted, never all too talkative to begin with this term - has ceased talking altogether. Thinking back on it, Harry can't recall seeing him speak to anyone today, and maybe yesterday as well. Possibly since the attack. He'd been sort of closed off when they returned to school, which - considering the summer he'd had and what was happening with his father - made only too much sense, but his housemates had been able to lure him out of his shell over the past two weeks, and he did actually speak to them at least. Well, from time to time.
Still.
Today, not so much. He's been chatty as a rock.
But if 'Mione likes him - and either way, she definitely seems interested in his, uh, happiness or something - then seeing him withdraw probably isn't a good thing. And if Harry's able to coax him back out again... Well that should be good.
If his shins survive, that is. (His Protego could also do with a touch practice.)
So when Malfoy finally breaks his vow of silence and interacts? Yeah, Harry takes it for a definite win. Admittedly, if he didn't confuse 'provoking' with 'coaxing', it might be better for all concerned...
Except maybe Ginny; she's finding it all too amusing.
The Slytherins observe the interaction between Draco and Potter with slight concern, Pansy only narrowly avoiding taking points from the Moggies, which now feels strange after their rescue Saturday, damn their eyes. But if Potter had made a mess of Draco's hair, she bloody well would have, their heroics be hanged. Addressing this escalation probably shouldn't wait. Unasked, Harper casts the House Privacy Charm, Theo, apparently thinking along similar lines, casts his Notice-Me-Nott nearly simultaneously, and the boys smile at one another in acknowledgement.
Great minds.
Theo's Charm ensures conversation at the table continues as if the Slytherins had never been there in the first place, leaving them free to pursue one of their own.
"The first decision is whether Potter feels he's entitled to do as he pleases now that he's done us a favour," Harper starts, deliberately looking at neither Draco nor Pansy as he says it. It's probably best to frame that as a favour for the House.
Not appearing entirely pleased, Draco nevertheless shakes his head in disagreement. "He and Granger are largely responsible for keeping me out of Azkaban."
Daphne looks ready to object, she inhales, her mouth opens, surely Draco didn't belong there, except they know that doesn't always matter, as Granger has repeatedly pointed out with regards to Shunpike, the Knight Bus conductor. Daphne nibbles her lip, trying to land on the next objection, but they couldn't conceivably have put Draco there, which would be a good deal more reassuring if his father weren't there now. Draco's expression is enough to cause her objections to die on her lips, unspoken, all she manages instead is a small sympathetic smile.
To be honest, he prefers it.
"Without their help, I'd be in a cell there now," Draco's tone brooks no argument, and given the absence of any predilection for sentimentality on his part, they're inclined to take him at his word. "And because of their respective influence, it doesn't matter how good her arguments were, it's safe to say they might have ignored Granger, they couldn't ignore Potter. If he hadn't let her use him as a sock puppet..." Daphne clucks in disappointment, and sure, that might not have been exactly fair, and it certainly wasn't generous, Merlin's fuzzy Knutsack, but he's still annoyed at the cracks about his impeccably arranged hair, thank you very much.
"Anyway, if he wanted to lord it over me, us, he'd have done it two weeks ago, so this isn't that."
"So what is it?" Theo asks him, genuinely curious. With all the time Draco had been forced to spend with the two Moggies over the summer, he definitely knows them better than any of the other Slytherins do.
"I honestly don't know, but with Potter, I'm not sure we can apply logic either."
Pansy snorts. She couldn't agree more.
"His motives aside, is it going to make things worse for us?" Harper asks, practical as ever. "Do we need to put a stop to it?"
"Given how tetchy they get about the Chosen One..." Pansy grumbles. She really hates being in his and Weasel's debt.
Draco shakes his head, "After their assistance this summer, it won't go over well." He elects not to mention the rescue Saturday, particularly as most of the school is unaware of it. As yet. "The others don't seem to know how to take it either, though," he nods towards the 'Puffs and Turkeys at their table, "and I suspect that has more to do with us. If we treat it like it's nothing, it ends here." After brief consideration, the others are inclined to agree.
"So you'll talk to Potter but not us?" Theo asks, changing the subject.
There's a lot Draco regrets, deeply regrets from the past few years. He's not built for guilt; it doesn't feel good. It's unsurprising that one of his priorities at present is minimising adding to that mountain of guilt moving forward. He doesn't know, they don't know, if the attack was motivated by a desire to target him, or their House as a whole, or something altogether different. Most importantly right now, no one can reliably assure him Pansy wasn't assaulted because she's his friend. That's... it's a lot to carry when he's already carrying a lot. So whether it will help or not, until they know for sure that contact with him isn't putting his friends in more danger, he's decided not to interact with them in public, potentially making them targets.
At best, it might help, and he'll have nothing to reproach himself for, and it's no different to how he'd spent much of the summer, in isolation. The others had seemed to understand what he was doing intuitively, and up to now they had let him be. Of course, it was particularly annoying when the only person to speak to him all day is Potter, and then it's this hair mussing rubbish, so the Notice-Me-Nott and his friends' subsequent attention is rather welcome.
"Until we know why the Turkeys attacked, I think it's for the best, Theo."
Pansy laughs wryly, and repeats Theo's question, "So you'll talk to Potter but not us? You're not worried about them attacking him then?"
Draco scoffs at the suggestion, "I don't think the Chosen One is in any danger, or that our antagonistic little interactions are likely to change that..."
"Would it make a difference if they were?" Harper asks appraisingly, and in contrast to Pansy, sincerely interested in his answer. For the most part, for the moment at least, Draco still determines how they as a House tend to approach things. It helps to understand how he sees things, and of course incidents like Saturday night's can change things very quickly, everything turning on a Knut.
"Even if they were fool enough to attack him," and Draco sounds like he couldn't picture it for the life of him, "he defeated the Dark... Voldemort. A gaggle of Turkeys shouldn't present a challenge by contrast." More sombrely he adds, "Unlike many of us, Potter doesn't have a Trace on his wand, he's unlikely to face punishment regardless of the Spells he uses, and in point of fact he didn't have much trouble setting them to flying on Saturday, so... no, can't say I think we need to worry about him, Pansy," he addresses the last towards his friend again in conclusion. Between the trauma and how busy she'd been casting Spells of her own, she hadn't properly registered Potter's work or the assailants' reactions.
"Might be worth putting to the test, though?" she kids, chaffing under the guilt of her debt to the Moggie, but Draco knows how to read her and gives her a gentle nudge under the table.
"Do you feel like company?" Theo asks. "We could leave the Notice-Me-Nott up a little longer?"
Draco smiles a genuine if weary smile at his friend, appreciating his thoughtfulness. "We should probably make a point of demonstrating indifference to Potter's teasing. It will deter the Turkeys from following suit." With a glance to the Hufflepuffs at their table he adds, "And the 'Puffs, too." They have more bite to them than people tend to think. He nibbles his lip in a brief moment of atypical doubt and then adds, "But maybe leave it up just a little longer, would you?"
Harper nods, "At least until you're over whatever that was from Potter. We should wait until they won't be able to tell we think he's a prat." He looks at Pansy significantly, but not unkindly, because she really is having the most difficulty marshalling her stoic mask. Well she has reason, doesn't she?
She chuckles darkly in response, "That could take some time."
Daphne smiles encouragingly, quickly agreeing with the seventh year beside her, if not for entirely the same reasons, thinking a longer break might do Draco and even Pansy some good. "I'm sure it won't hurt to keep to ourselves for a bit."
"Has anyone looked at the DADA assignment yet?" Harper immediately picks up on Daph's line of thought.
"Peek! My gods, what a joke!" Pansy immediately crows, forgetting everything else just like that.
Harper takes the reply as a resounding success. He'd thought calling their new DADA instructor to mind might do the trick. Daph rewards him with an approving smile he values more than many of the O's he's likely to achieve on his N.E.W.T.s this year. Daph saw through his ploy instantly - for all his matter-of-factness, Harper can be terribly sweet like that - and even as generous of nature as she is, from everything she's heard from the others about the new professor, she can't help agreeing with Pansy on this one.
Completely.
Hermione is keen to make sure that Malfoy isn't too annoyed by Harry's antics, and she's kicking herself - metaphorically, quite, but also with rather more success than she usually has with Harry - that she hadn't checked on him earlier for some reason.
How strange.
But Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins seem absolutely unfazed by Harry's perfectly frightful manners - really, after all they'd been through, too - which is just as well, as her attempts to draw the blond into conversation may be even less fruitful than usual. It's hard to imagine them getting any worse anyway. She's earning a solid Troll here.
Par for the course, she supposes, and she can't fault him for being irked at the lot of them. There's some guilt by transference here, she is sure. At the least, she could have taken points from Harry for that rather shameful production. In truth, now that she thinks of it, she's embarrassed she hadn't. The fact there are Prefects from three of the four Houses sat at their table and the Head Boy as well and none of them had felt moved to take points fails to register. With any of them aside from the Slytherins, for that matter.
Well Malfoy's non-response won't keep her from trying. Nor will Ginny's somewhat pitying look, nor Harry's... Actually, why does he keep looking at her like that? Like she's some sort of specimen he ought to analyse?
How odd.
Night, Monday, 14 September, 1998
The Gryffindor Eighth Year Boys' DormsHarry lies in bed that night, tossing his stunned Snitch into the air and catching it time and again. The results are a good deal better than if he hadn't Stunned the thing, which naturally makes it a poorer practice, but he doubts his roommates would appreciate the commotion at this hour otherwise. Well, his roommates save Ron, who still hasn't reappeared. He seems to be taking full advantage of the new eighth year privileges, doesn't he?
Harry's beginning to more fully understand Gin's fairly visceral disgust at her brother's hypocrisy.
Somehow Fred's death never seems to be a reason for Ron not to do as he pleases, merely an excuse for Ron to tell other people they should behave as he wants. It's funny how it always works out like that.
Harry's inclination at the moment to view things in that light undoubtably has a good deal to do with the fact he's still smarting from their disagreement on reporting the Mischief Masks. Oh, that and the fact Ron had kept it from him.
He throws the Snitch higher and harder, bouncing it off the ceiling of his covered bed. Seamus groans at the noise, but fails to wake fully, and Harry mutters a soft, "Sorry, mate," and quickly casts a Muffliato before he continues.
Fortunately he suspects he needn't worry about Gin much. She'll do as she pleases when she's ready, of this he is sure. If not Dean - it probably won't be Dean; he spares a look towards the boy's bed - then someone else when the opportunity and the right wizard present themselves. Hermione's another story, though. His thoughts turn again to her apparent lack of prospects. She's not out there holding hands with anyone - save himself, that is - and how lonely is that when the day is done?
"No one at all who interests you?" He'd asked.
"No one who'd reciprocate," she'd answered. So just who could it be?
That is, who else could it be, because yeah, okay, fine, he'd sort of answered that already, hadn't he, conclusively enough that he'd begun treating Malfoy differently anyway, but he's still having difficulty overcoming years of prejudices of his own and wrapping his head around it. It would help explain why she hadn't wanted to talk to him about it though...
Could it be anyone else?
The Head Boy? Please. Harry laughs at the absurdity. Hermione may be a studious little swot, but she has fire, and Ernie has about as much personality as... Well less than his Snitch does really. When it's stunned. No, he's not suited in the least. And frankly, Malfoy was every bit the swot 'Mione is, he'd have been Head Boy this year, too, if it weren't for... Well, everything, honestly, but last year and the trials and the restrictions on the Snakes for sure.
And if Hermione is at a point where she is willing to forget the things that occurred at the Manor, or the slurs as to her blood purity along the way... Frankly that all seems insurmountable, but if she can forgive Ron and Harry for some of the stuff they've pulled... Well none of that was remotely in the same category as torture... Probably... But then Malfoy hadn't tortured her, and betrayal is so much worse from a friend... Really Harry probably hadn't been too bad - he lies to himself with the briefest twinge that happens to come right before he misses the Snitch and it crashes onto his nose, Merlin - but Ron last year... Just up and leaving them. That had taken a lot out of her trust.
Rubbing his nose - throbbing schnozzes seem to be a bit of a theme today, but it's not as bad as Ron's at any rate - he thinks some about when she must have moved on - by Ginny's definition, or his? he chuckles at himself - and realises 'Mione'd changed over the summer, too. The more Ron complained about their support for Snape, Professor Snape and Malfoy, the harder she'd fought for them, and it was just like her to do so, but in retrospect he thinks she may have begun developing feelings for the Slytherin at the time.
They'd repeated over and over, first at home as they'd practised, then for the Aurors, then the Wizengamot and then the reporters - the effort to win in the court of public opinion ultimately no less crucial than in the legal forum - any and all deeds that could even remotely be construed as heroic to a point where some days he almost believed the legends they wove himself.
Having agreed between them there was no way either of the Slytherins deserved to end in Azkaban, that their actions certainly hadn't warranted that, but that with near equal certainty that the sea of individuals who never raised finger nor wand to help in the battle would now feel more than comfortable sentencing people who had sacrificed so much more... There was little point in doing things in half measures, if they were going to testify, and on that they were agreed, then there was no point in bothering unless they did whatever was required to achieve the desired result.
They'd honed their testimony until they were firm in their stories, and they'd never yielded so much as an inch - he's exceedingly proud of that - and although everything was true... Perhaps it wasn't always accurately presented. It was possible to say Malfoy had saved them from his aunt, which he absolutely had when he'd refused to identify Harry or his wand for her, but that's not quite the same as what most picture when you say 'saving', is it? But then Harry had a far better idea than most how Malfoy had been living, the threat... How many could even begin to picture it, having Voldemort and his dark army encamped in your home, threatening your family... Harry isn't sure he'd have managed any better. None of them are. Ron? Ron had... run off just at the thought of his family suffering. That was fact. And Hermione had Obliviated her parents, literally stealing their lives from them in an attempt to keep them safe, because she'd been certain she couldn't be trusted to show the resistance Malfoy had on that day. Harry and 'Mione both understood it, but they doubted they could make many others see it their way. Merlin, they couldn't even get Ron to agree. So things were phrased this way, instead of that, always careful to tell the truth, ever mindful of a potential unexpected dose of Veritaserum and the harm it could do, so careful to make sure it wouldn't sink their entire effort... and every minute Ron had grown angrier, more sullen, less willing to cooperate, Hermione losing patience and Ron antagonising, arguing... He'd half pushed, and she - Harry's fairly sure of it now - had fallen.
For Malfoy.
Well, he supposes, catching the Snitch one last time before putting it up for the night, he's rather cute.
For a bloke.
Written with oodles of love for lostangelsoul3. Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. Family descended upon us, and, so strangely, that isn't conducive to writing. 😆