Let Me Be Your Voice | By : Queenie_Mab Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8661 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from Harry Potter, created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers: Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and Warner Bros. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended |
Harry packed his trunk the following morning as he prepared to leave for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, his backside twinging from the previous night’s wank. He didn’t regret doing it, however. His main regret lay in having led Ginny on, in allowing her to hope they would create a future together even though he’d never really seen himself having a future. The assumption that he would die trying to finish Voldemort had made his actions seem noble at the time, though now that he had lived to tell the tale, he realised how selfish he had been.
So, making amends to Ginny was another item he added to the “to-be-rectified” list he was creating in his head.
The ride to Hogwarts was awkward. Harry had barely set a foot through the barrier leading to the platform before he was ambushed by people. Reporters from the Daily Prophet were crowding around the barrier, taking his photograph and directing their quills to record his every move.
Fortunately Ron, George and Hermione spotted his plight and came to his aid, driving the reporters and well-wishers back using Shield Charms and threatening them with hexes if they tried to circumvent them.
He made his way to the compartment Ron and Hermione had selected, trying not to grimace as he walked. He sat down at last in a window seat and closed his eyes, thankful for having made it onto the train in one piece.
“Hello, Harry,” Ginny’s voice said, making him start and wince as his arse complained at the sudden movement.
“Gin!” he said, surprised. She was sitting opposite him and he wondered if she had come in immediately after he had, or if he had really not noticed her when he sat down.
“How are you?” she asked, fixing him with a steady gaze, her voice carefully neutral.
He swallowed nervously, wanting to talk to her privately, to apologise and to ask her forgiveness, but Luna and Neville entered the compartment right then and took the seats beside Ginny.
“I’m good,” Harry told her, trying to smile nonchalantly, but he was sure he probably looked as if he had gas. “I want a word in private later, if that’s all right with you,” he told her.
She nodded, her face calm and collected, before turning to greet Luna and Neville and strike up a conversation as if nothing was amiss.
Hermione and Ron shuffled in and took their seats beside Harry.
“George wanted me to give you this,” Ron said, handing over a package wrapped in brown paper. It was about the size of a pocket Sneakoscope. “He said not to open it until you were safely away from prying eyes.”
Harry took the package and tucked it into the mokeskin pouch he wore beneath his shirt.
Hermione watched him stow it away with a distrustful glint in her eyes. “If it ends up being something dangerous or illegal, Harry…” she began.
“I’ll hand it in straight away,” Harry finished for her.
She smiled crookedly, shrugging. “Oh it feels good to be going back! It feels like we’re getting a chance for a fresh start.”
Ron slipped his arm around Hermione’s shoulders and Harry’s eyes fell on the ring resting on Hermione’s left hand.
It was almost as if that ring symbolised the fact that their days as a trio were over and Harry was on his own once again. He stared out of the window watching the world fly by while surrounded by the merry voices of his friends, wondering what the future held for them all.
~x~
There was an uproar of applause and merriment at the announcement of the new members of staff that year. To Harry’s surprise and Ron’s horror, Mrs. Weasley sat among the professors at the head table and stood up when McGonagall announced she would be taking on the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher as well as Head of Gryffindor House.
The Gryffindors whooped with excitement and admiration over Molly having been presented with an Order of Merlin earlier in the summer.
Harry was surprised again, though he led the applause at the Gryffindor table when Arabella Figg was announced as the new Muggle Studies professor. She got to her feet beside Hagrid, barely coming up to his shoulder while he was seated. She smiled and waved at the students, looking more lively than Harry had ever seen her before. Hermione clapped loudly as well, offering to all those who would listen that it was beyond time for Squibs to be given equal opportunities in the wizarding world.
Hestia Jones, the witch with sleek black hair that Harry had met the previous year when he bade farewell to the Dursleys, was announced as the new Transfiguration Professor.
The sorting took longer than usual, owing to the additional need to sort the Muggle-born students that had been unable to attend the previous year. McGonagall explained that the rest of the student body had been given a pass to move on to the next year with the understanding that the fifth and sixth-year students would sit their OWLs together in the spring, as well as the seventh and eighth-year students their NEWTs. Only those who had not attended Hogwarts previously would be kept in first year.
By the time the sorting had finished, Harry was certain his stomach had taken to digesting itself. He hadn’t felt hungry on the train, and thus hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He was relieved when McGonagall held up her hands to allow the feast to commence, saving her start-of-term notices for afterwards.
The feast appeared before, them weighing down the house tables with a variety of dishes, and the students fell into delighted chatter as people began serving themselves, talking and laughing.
Harry filled his plate with roast beef and pulled pork, steamed yams and a piping hot bun smeared with butter. He took a goblet of pumpkin juice and began to eat, closing his eyes in appreciation for the delicious meal as his tastebuds roared their approval.
When he opened his eyes again, he spared a glance at the Slytherin table across the hall. The Slytherins were in the minority for number of returning students, though their first-year class was as large as the other houses.
Looking down the row of students, he spotted Malfoy, seated between Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Millicent Bulstrode was the only other Slytherin in their year that had returned, as Nott and Goyle were serving time in Azkaban for their crimes during the war and their utter lack of remorse.
Malfoy looked forlorn amongst the hustle and bustle, though his fellows were more subdued than the rest of the returning students. Harry felt his heart leap into his throat when Malfoy met his eyes with a cool stare, and Harry looked away hastily, trying to appear engrossed in conversation and to ignore the flush that he knew had spread across his face.
By the time the dessert plates had been cleared, it was nearing ten o’clock at night. Professor McGonagall got to her feet at the head table and held up her hands for silence.
A hush fell over the room.
“My start-of-term notices will be brief,” she said briskly. “The forest is out-of-bounds to all students without a Professor escort. The Quidditch field is being regrown; I will announce the formation of teams after Halloween. As many of you are aware, the North tower was destroyed and has not been rebuilt. Professor Trelawney has agreed to move her residence and classroom to the first floor opposite our other Divination professor, Firenze. No students are allowed near North tower until it has been properly rebuilt. The eighth-year students will not reside with their houses, but have been given a common room of their own and shared dormitories. I must impress upon you all the importance of this. The eighth-year students will be the leaders in promoting interhouse unity and will be expected to lead the rest of the students to follow their example. This Christmas, Hogwarts will host a dedication ceremony as we erect a monument to those that gave their lives in the war and a celebratory ball will be held honouring those who fought for Hogwarts. Those honoured will include all walks of life. House-elves, centaurs, merfolk, ghosts, as well as wizards; and Harry Potter has consented to give the dedication speech.”
She clapped her hands. “And now it is past time you were in your beds. Lessons begin tomorrow promptly at nine o’clock. You are dismissed.”
Harry found himself jostled this way and that by the dispersing student body. Everywhere he looked eyes were on him, as students pointed him out to their peers, whispering praises. Those who knew Harry personally waved at him or thumped him on the back while passing. He made his way out of the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione, ducking behind a tapestry which hid a shortcut to their new quarters with relief at having got away.
They headed through the low-ceilinged corridor, Ron and Hermione bringing up the rear as they held hands and exchanged quiet words intended only for each other. Harry had never felt more like a third wheel in his life. His attention was drawn to a scuffling sound where the corridor turned a corner. He picked up his pace to investigate.
His wand was out the moment he stepped round the corner and found Zacharias Smith leering over Malfoy’s body prone on the floor.
“Step away, Smith,” Harry said, voice sharp and commanding.
Smith looked up at him, holding up his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “Hey, Potter,” he said, a look of superiority plastered on his smug face. “You can’t blame a man for protecting himself against a Death Eater.”
Malfoy struggled into a sitting position and worked at loosening the knot that tied his shoelaces together. He said nothing, though his face was tinged pink with embarrassment.
“Only a coward acts like this, Smith, and you are the biggest coward I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.”
Ron and Hermione rounded the corner at that point. “Oi, Harry. Watch where you’re pointing your wand,” Ron said immediately.
Harry ignored him and continued to track Smith’s movements with his wand.
Smith pocketed his wand, shrugged and walked away.
“Are you all right?” Harry asked Malfoy, holding out a hand to help him to his feet.
Malfoy looked at the hand, glanced to where Ron and Hermione stood, and rolled his eyes. He got to his feet, ignoring Harry’s offer of help, and stalked away without a word or a backwards glance.
“Stupid git!” Ron swore under his breath. “What’s got into you, Harry? Malfoy is a Death Eater, I don’t care that you spoke for him at his trial. You’ve got to get your priorities straight. Building inter-house cooperation isn’t going to happen if you alienate the Hufflepuffs for standing up for themselves.”
Harry’s eyebrows shot upwards with disbelief. “You saw that, though. Malfoy hadn’t provoked him. Smith attacked without cause.”
“Harry,” Hermione said coolly. “It was only a trip-jinx. It’s not like he tortured him with the Cruciatus Curse.”
She turned to Ron and gave him a quick kiss. “I’ll go on ahead. See you in the morning.”
She swept past Harry, following the path Malfoy and Smith had gone.
Ron watched her go thoughtfully. “Let’s go and find our dormitory,” he said finally, seeming to want to change the subject when Hermione wasn’t present to back him up.
Harry fell into step beside Ron and they made their way to their new living quarters. They were to be housed in a new addition to Hogwarts, a half-tower built on the south side of the castle, overhanging the cliffs and looking out over the lake. They trooped up a short flight of stairs to the door to their new common room.
Inside, the eighth-year boys and girls gathered around a list posted on the notice board which told them how they were to be split.
Harry looked over the list of boys and saw that the eighth-year boys were housed in two separate dormitories. He picked his name out on the list to the left, along with Terry Boot, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Zacharias Smith, Neville, Dean and Draco Malfoy. He gulped when he heard Ron’s bellow of protest.
“What the ever-flying fuck is this?” Ron swore loudly. “Who made these lists? Are they mental? Why aren’t Harry and I sharing a room?”
“You might as well get over yourself, Weasley,” Blaise Zabini said coolly. “Just because you and your precious boytoy Potter have been bosom buddies for ages, doesn’t mean the rest of us want to witness it.”
Ron’s fist was in the air when Harry stepped in between them. Harry caught it with his hand. “Calm down, mate,” he hissed. “There’s no sense getting worked up over sleeping arrangements at this time of night. We can talk to McGonagall about it tomorrow.”
Ron lowered his hand, eyes still narrowed at Blaise, who was ignoring him altogether. But he withdrew and stalked away towards the dormitory on the right.
Harry was secretly relieved to not be sharing a room with Ron for once. He loved Ron like a brother but, like a brother, Ron could be overwhelming to deal with at times. He entered his own dormitory and greeted his dorm mates. He overlooked Smith entirely, and found the bed set aside for him with his trunk at its foot. He climbed onto the mattress and turned onto his back, exhausted.
He watched Draco Malfoy enter the room after the others had all climbed into their beds; watched as he took note of the fact his bed was right beside Harry’s. Malfoy looked to the ceiling as if praying for patience and climbed in, pulling his curtains closed.
Harry grinned despite himself. Malfoy may not be speaking to him, but he was at least affected enough by Harry to show a bit of his old self again.
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