A Cord of Three Strands

A Cord of Three Strands

By Cindale

Chapter 15

"Realizations"

"Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."

Ecclesiastes 4:12

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Harry stretched out his arm as far as it would go while maintaining a death grip on his broom with the other hand. He lunged forward, dangerously shifting his centre of gravity, but was rewarded for his effort when his fingers closed firmly around the Snitch. He could feel the wings struggling in his hand as he sped toward the ground, ignoring the mixed sounds from the crowd.

"... and Potter catches the Snitch, but Hufflepuff wins - two hundred to one-ninety!" rang out the clear voice of Daphne Greengrass, magically magnified to be heard over the spectators.

Ron had implemented an intense training program for the Chasers during January, and they had improved, actually managing to score four goals during this game. But they still didn't trust each other, and the dismal performance of the Beaters combined with Ron's lack of confidence had allowed the Hufflepuff team to score twenty times. When given the chance, Harry had rushed to catch the Snitch in order to keep the score from getting worse. By his calculations, Gryffindor was still ahead of Hufflepuff in the race for the Quidditch cup, despite the loss. He grinned grimly to himself as he realized he had Malfoy to thank for that; his quick catch of the Snitch in the Slytherin match against Hufflepuff ensured they had only scored ten points.

Ron landed just after Harry did and slapped him on the back. "Well done," he said in a low voice. "Once again, you saved our hides." Harry only shrugged and handed the Snitch over to Madam Hooch, who then verified the score and officially declared Hufflepuff the winners.

The other team members looked disappointed, but expressed their support for Harry's decision to end the game with nods and slaps on the back. Harry thought it was interesting, though not surprising, that the team was not walking back to the castle together, but separately, as if demonstrating their lack of cohesion.

As he turned to make his way off the pitch, Harry found himself face to face with Ginny, who regarded him with an unreadable expression. He found himself hoping desperately that she wasn't angry with him. "You did the right thing," she finally said and then surprised him by wrapping her arms around him in a quick hug.

During the brief embrace, Harry looked over Ginny's shoulder and saw Summerby watching, presumably waiting for Ginny. Harry felt a momentary stab of satisfaction that had nothing to do with Quidditch, and without realizing it, he held Ginny a moment longer than necessary. When she pulled back, he looked at her intently and said, "Thanks, Ginny." An odd expression crossed her face, but she only turned and walked away with her boyfriend.

As Harry left the pitch, a welcome voice called to him from the shadows behind the stands. "I guess you did what you needed to do," Luna said as he took her into his arms.

"Please don't talk to me about the match," he said almost desperately. Lowering his lips to hers, he proceeded to ensure she was unable to talk for a long while.

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"Tonight we're going to start something different," Harry announced to the Defence Association. He turned and nodded at Professor Shacklebolt, who stepped forward and raised his wand.

"Imperio!" the professor shouted, pointing his wand straight at Harry.

Harry felt himself relaxing, as though he would have melted into the floor if an invisible beam from Shacklebolt's wand hadn't been holding him up. Vaguely, as if from far away, Harry heard a voice say, "Jump!"

Harry fought the desire to obey and kept his feet planted firmly on the ground. "No!" he said aloud.

"Howl like a wolf!" said the voice in a more commanding tone, and Harry clamped his lips together tightly. Shacklebolt's tone changed to persuasive, and his voice gently told Harry that he would feel so good if he would only comply. Harry began to feel bewitched by the desire for pleasure, and actually puckered his lips, but he managed to keep himself from making a sound.

"Kiss Ron Weasley," the voice demanded, but Harry's resolve was strengthening, and this time he managed to push Shacklebolt completely from his mind. He shook his head to clear it and then laughed when he saw the horrified expression on Ron's face. Hermione, Ginny, and several others were struggling to stop giggling.

"I think we've effectively demonstrated that Mr. Potter can resist the Imperious Curse," said Shacklebolt, clearly fighting the urge to laugh. "The ability to fight the Imperious Curse is vital to the success of this war. Voldemort and the Death Eaters take special pleasure in forcing innocent people to do things against their will. I will be training those of you who are willing to resist the Curse."

A murmur of mixed trepidation and excitement went through the students. The false Professor Moody had worked with the older students two years before, but Harry had been the only one to master the defence.

"I'll work with small groups of three or four, starting with the most experienced," the professor continued. "Let's see ... Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom, and Mr. Acott - do you want to give it a go?" No one protested Shacklebolt's choice of students; everyone knew that Ron, Hermione, and Neville had more practical experience than any other sixth years, and Bruce Acott was a seventh year who was well-known for his top marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts. The four students stood and joined Professor Shacklebolt in a corner at the front of the room.

Harry turned to the other students and said, "Okay - I want the rest of you to work on a new shield Professor Shacklebolt taught me. Malfoy, get over here and hex me."

Malfoy looked surprised at being addressed by Harry, but he smirked, stood, and said, "I'll be glad to. Furnunculus!"

Harry was taken by surprise; he had chosen Malfoy because he knew he wouldn't hesitate to hex him, but he had expected the Slytherin to come to the front of the room before throwing his curse. He just managed to get his shield up in time, and the purple light from Malfoy's wand bounced harmlessly off of it.

"Cheers," Harry said sarcastically, glaring at the Slytherin.

"You can't expect an attacker to warn you, can you?" Malfoy said with a nasty grin.

"You would know," Harry retorted, feeling annoyed that the Slytherin had almost humiliated him. "Anyway," he said, addressing the group, "as you heard, the incantation is Deflectere and the wand movement is ..." He swept his wand into two arcs, as if he were drawing the letter "S" in the air. "If it works, and the shield is ac- Deflectere! Malfoy! You are such a prat!" The Slytherin had quietly thrown another hex while Harry's attention was elsewhere, but Harry had seen the movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Surely you can come up with a better insult than that!" Malfoy taunted.

"There are children in the room," Harry rejoined. "Sit down, Malfoy - I'm finished with you."

"You're welcome," the Slytherin said in a sarcastic tone, but instead of sitting, he walked over to Daphne Greengrass and bent over to whisper to her. Harry ignored him and continued:

"If your incantation works, and your shield is active, you'll see a small flash of light in front of your eyes. That's a good thing - to know for sure that the shield worked, but the downside is that it can distract you. It's one of the strongest shields there is, so it's probably worth the risk of distraction. Experiment with it and decide for yourselves. Find a partner and give it a go."

Harry watched with satisfaction as Ginny sought out Katie Bell and Andrew Kirke instead of her boyfriend. Jack Sloper was blocking hexes from Stacey Vorlavitz in a far corner. Ron had suggested that the team Chasers and Beaters work together during Defence Association meetings to build trust. Harry sincerely hoped it would work since nothing else had.

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Harry silently ascended the stairs from the dungeons clutching his invisibility cloak around him. As he reached the Entrance Hall, he saw a flash of red hair headed up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower and a tall boy with brown hair descending the stairs toward the kitchens. An odd whim caused Harry to duck back into the shadows of the dungeon staircase, pull off the invisibility cloak, and run up the stairs after Ginny. She stopped and turned, apparently hearing his footsteps behind her.

She looked around as if to confirm the stairway was empty, but still kept her voice quiet. "Coming up from Occlumency?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed in a whisper.

"How's it going?" Her voice and facial expression indicated that she really wanted to know, but Harry still hesitated; he hated to talk about it. After a moment she said, "It's okay - I was just curious. You don't have to tell me about it."

Harry marvelled that Ginny seemed to know exactly what he was thinking and suddenly had the urge to pour out all his frustration with Snape and Occlumency. He told her how his confidence in the skill had built over the past few months, only to come crashing down when Snape had started insulting him while probing his mind. He repeated some of the insults, and though he never said how much the taunts about his parents hurt him, he saw that she knew from her sympathetic expression. "... but I'm sure Voldemort will insult me when he tries to invade my mind, so I guess I have to put up with it," Harry finished with a shrug.

They had stopped walking when they reached the fifth floor. Ginny took Harry's hand and pressed it between both of hers, looking up at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. "This won't go on forever, Harry," she said quietly. Harry nodded and gazed intently into her eyes, the tingle in the hand she was holding spreading slowly up his arm. He had never thought about it before, but Ginny Weasley was pretty, and he wondered why it had taken him so long to notice. The freckles sprinkled across the creamy skin of her nose and cheekbones made him think of cinnamon on a vanilla biscuit. However, her eyes had a sad, haunted look that was always there, even when she was happy.

He suddenly remembered that plenty of other boys had noticed her beauty, including a certain Hufflepuff Seeker, and he pulled his hand away, murmuring, "I'd better go."

"You're not coming up to the common room?"

Harry was actually going to meet Luna and knew she was probably already waiting for him, but he suddenly had the urge to continue on with Ginny instead. He realized he didn't need the outlet for his frustrations that Luna usually provided; his talk with Ginny had actually proved to be more satisfying than a mindless snog.

Ginny was watching him oddly, and when he didn't answer she said, "You're going to meet Luna, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he admitted, surprised to find himself blushing.

"It must be a relief having a girlfriend that you don't have to hide so much from," she said, and Harry remembered the conversation they'd had about Lavender and Neville months before.

Harry shrugged. "I haven't told her about Occlumency or my private defence lessons. I guess she must know Voldemort can probe my mind, since she knows about my vision about Sirius last year, but she doesn't ask about it." Actually, Harry and Luna did very little talking at all, but Harry couldn't bring himself to confess that.

"Matthew doesn't ask, either," Ginny said, "about stuff that's ... personal ... but he has commented a couple of times that my eyes looked sad. I hope someday I'll be able to tell him about ... Percy and ..."

She broke off, gesturing with her hand, but Harry knew what she meant to say. Ginny was one of the few people who could understand Harry's problems because she knew what it was like to be touched by the darkness that was Voldemort. However, he felt a chasm separating them which consisted of her boyfriend, his girlfriend, and the fact that he was so close to her family. Somehow he didn't think the Weasleys would appreciate him thinking of Ginny as anything other than a sister. He looked down at the floor and repeated, "I'd better go."

He suddenly felt arms flung around him and a soft voice whispering, "Someday he'll be dead. We have to put our hope in that. Someday we'll have peace." Harry knew she didn't realize that he was the one who had to fulfil that hope, but he appreciated her attempt to encourage him, and he squeezed her tightly before releasing her. He caught a brief look of confusion in her eyes before she turned and ran up the stairs to the seventh floor.

Harry headed down the fifth floor corridor toward an unused classroom, but a voice from the shadows stopped him before he reached it. "You were talking to Ginny," said Luna.

"Yeah, she's my friend," Harry said with a shrug, feeling unreasonably defensive.

"You hugged her," Luna said in her dreamy voice, staring at a spot on the wall behind him. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to act jealous?"

"No reason for that - she's practically my sister," Harry murmured in a bitter tone, leading the way into the classroom. He locked the door behind them and took her into his arms, but as he kissed her, he saw a different face in his mind.

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Harry found himself at loose ends one Tuesday night. Professor Shacklebolt had owled him to say that he didn't need his "assistant" that evening because he had Auror business. Of course, Harry suspected it must really be Order business, but the professor could hardly say that in an owl. Since Remus wasn't leading his training session instead, Harry assumed his guardian must also be involved in the "Auror business."

Hermione was now assisting her Arithmancy professor with marking papers on Tuesday evenings, and Ron was taking the opportunity to work on Quidditch strategy without his girlfriend nagging him to do his homework. Harry joined in the planning until Ron called Ginny over to talk about the Chasers. Suddenly feeling the need to escape, Harry murmured something about finishing his Transfiguration essay and headed for the library.

As he stomped angrily down the hall, Harry inwardly called himself all sorts of names. He knew it was stupid, but any time he got near Ginny he felt a sudden urge to flee, which made no sense at all since he couldn't stop thinking about her. Her pretty face was a constant presence in his mind, especially when he was snogging Luna, much to his chagrin. His relationship with Luna was causing frustration these days instead of alleviating his anger.

Harry reached the library, found an empty table, and tried to focus on his essay, but he was unable to think of anything else to write. He heard someone pull out the chair across from him and sit down as he was digging in his bag for his ruler. "Act glad to see me," Malfoy whispered as Harry looked up.

"Why?" Harry asked with narrowed eyes.

Malfoy sighed dramatically. "Well, I guess I'll have to settle for failing to hex me."

"What are you on about, Malfoy?" Harry asked as he measured his essay.

"There's no way that's long enough," Malfoy said pleasantly. "Don't look, but those girls at the table by the door are watching us."

Harry groaned in frustration as he realized Malfoy was right about his essay. "Girls? Where?" he said stupidly, looking around.

"I told you not to look," the Slytherin hissed. "I've had a hard time finding anyone to snog this year since no one in the whole school would speak to me. Being seen with the 'Boy-Who-Lived' can only improve my chances. A couple of people are actually speaking to me again since I started partnering you in Potions." He said this as if it had been his own brilliant idea to partner Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes and said, "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you had Quidditch on Tuesdays."

Malfoy's expression closed and he looked away. "Quidditch practice is a waste of time since no one on the team will talk to me. I skived off early." Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he turned his attention to his essay, only to be distracted when the Slytherin spoke again. "Now Brown and Patil are looking over here and whispering to each other. Why do birds do that? Like they think we don't notice."

Harry looked up to see that Malfoy was correct; Lavender and Parvati were trying to pretend they weren't looking at them. Malfoy turned and stared at them, lip curled into a smirk, for a long moment. The girls finally turned their chairs away from them and leaned their heads toward each other, appearing to whisper furiously.

"So tell me, Potter," the Slytherin said in a conspiratorial voice when he had turned back to face Harry, "Are Lavender's real?"

"Her what?" Harry asked. Malfoy made arcs over his chest with his hands as explanation. Harry tried to keep the blush away by force of will as he said, "How would I know that?"

"You went out with her, Potter," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. "Don't tell me you can't tell the difference. They don't feel the same at all."

Harry felt his face redden despite himself, not sure whether he was more appalled that Lavender might have enhanced herself or that Malfoy thought he would be in a position to know. The Slytherin studied him for a moment and realization dawned in his eyes. "Don't tell me you're 'The-Boy-Who-Is-Still-A-Virgin'! That's rich! When you could have anyone you want!" Malfoy sounded almost bitter, as if Harry was wasting a valuable resource.

"What's wrong with being a virgin?" Harry asked, wondering how he had gotten into this conversation and desperately wanting out of it. "I-I'm only sixteen. I don't really want to ... get into all that yet." Malfoy looked at him as if he had suddenly grown another nose, shaking his head slightly in obvious disbelief. To change the subject, Harry said, "W-what d-do girls do ... to themselves, anyway?"

"It's actually a fairly simple engorging charm," Draco told him with a smirk, "but it's only temporary, so they have to do it every day. Sometimes they don't get them quite right every day." He paused for a snort of laughter. "I know for a fact that Parvati Patil uses the charm, because her sister is smaller than her, and that's impossible - they're identical twins."

Harry was stunned to realize Malfoy was right. He was tempted to ask how the Slytherin knew about the charm, and how the ... girls felt different, but decided he didn't really want to know. The conversation naturally caused Harry's thoughts to drift to Luna, but thinking of her in this context was definitely not a good idea. The library suddenly seemed to be getting smaller and hotter, and Harry felt he had to get out of there. As he shoved his belongings in his book bag, Malfoy asked, "Where are you going?"

"You got what you wanted, didn't you? Everyone in here saw us together. I'm going flying." He hurried out of the library without a backward glance.

For some reason, he wasn't surprised at all when he heard his name called from behind. He rolled his eyes and slowed a little to let Malfoy catch up. "What's your problem?" Malfoy demanded when he reached Harry's side. "You leave the library like that and everyone's going to think you hate me!"

"Who says I don't?" Harry asked in an angry voice, his footfalls accelerating.

"I do," said Malfoy, and Harry didn't have to look at him to know he had a smug expression on his face. It only made Harry feel more annoyed to realize that the Slytherin was right; he no longer hated him.

Harry rolled his eyes again and said, "So ... what? You're saying we're friends now?"

"No. I never said I didn't hate you. Besides, Slytherins don't have friends." Harry slowed a little and looked at Malfoy, but he was unable to read his expression. "Speaking of Slytherins," Malfoy continued, "they're going to bash you up when you try to get onto the pitch."

Harry paused as he reached the base of the stairs. "The pitch isn't the only place to fly, Malfoy." He turned and hurried up to Gryffindor Tower to get his broom.

When he returned to the entrance hall, Harry was totally unsurprised to see Malfoy waiting for him, holding his own broom. "Race you? Twice around the castle?" Malfoy asked, obviously trying but failing miserably to appear bored.

"Sure," Harry said and turned his head so the Slytherin wouldn't see his grin. Malfoy was the only person Harry knew who could challenge him in speed flying; racing him would be fun.

Even though Malfoy cheated by taking a head start, Harry passed him during the second lap and beat him soundly. He felt exhilarated and oddly calm as he landed on the ground, as if he had completely outrun his problems and anger. He knew the euphoria wouldn't last, so he savoured it while he could.

The Slytherin scowled at him. "I would have beaten you if I had a Firebolt," he complained. "Father would have ..." He abruptly turned away from Harry and headed toward the castle. Harry suspected Malfoy was going to say that his father would have bought him the coveted broom, and he couldn't help scowling at the reminder that Malfoy was the son of a Death Eater.

An anxious-looking McGonagall greeted them just inside the door. "What are you doing outside after dark?" she hissed at Harry.

"It's not past curfew," Harry protested, feeling annoyed. "Besides, I wasn't alone."

The look McGonagall gave Malfoy made it clear that she suspected Harry was in even more danger in his company than alone, but the Slytherin stood his ground and glared right back at her. She said nothing to Malfoy, but turned back to Harry and said, "The headmaster wishes to see you in his office right away." Her expression gave nothing away, and Harry wondered what on earth had happened this time.

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