Hit the Floor

Chapter Two - Matters of Trust

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After the Feast ended, Hermione and Ron got up to lead the first years to Gryffindor Tower. Harry started out walking with them, but slowly fell back until the entire House had passed him. This gave him the chance to get to the Headmaster's Office without the endless amount of questions he'd been expecting. He was deep in thought as he approached the Gargoyle guarding the entrance, and only as he drew himself back to reality did he realize he didn't know the password. Harry stared at the statue for a few moments, trying to figure out how he was going to get up to his meeting. A voice interrupted his deliberation.

"Fancy meeting you here," Draco drawled, appearing as if out of nowhere next to Harry.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his voice again neutral. He wasn't sure exactly how the other teen felt about their encounter on the train, but Harry wasn't eager to go back to the way things had been before.

"Same thing as you I'd expect," Draco replied. "Sherbert Lemon."

The gargoyle sprang open and the boys stepped onto the moving staircase.

Harry laughed quietly to himself. "I should have guessed that one. I mean, the man's completely addicted to those horrid things." He was pleasantly surprised to hear Draco's answering snickers.

The Headmaster's Office hadn't changed in all of Harry's time at Hogwarts. Several of the portraits waved to him as he and Draco walked into the room and were greeted by members of the Order. Rather, Harry was greeted by members of the Order. Draco was glared at or ignored. Mrs. Weasley immediately wrapped up Harry in a hug. When he pulled back to get a good look at her, he realized that he wasn't the only person being affected by the fast approaching war. She was much thinner than he remembered, and so very pale, with dark circles under her eyes. He noticed for the first time that her hair was going gray.

It was easy to forget about the other people being affected by the world when Harry was wrapped up in his own misery. For the first time in a long time he understood that there were people to share his burden with. Even though he would try, it was nice to know they were there if he needed them.

Mr. Weasley approached to grasp his hand, along with the five oldest Weasley boys. Percy had developed a conscience after Fudge publicly announced Voldemort's return, and had been welcomed back into his family. Charlie had moved back at the beginning of the summer to help with the Order's new fleet of dragons. Bill had transferred to the Diagon Alley branch of Gringott's a year ago, to be closer to his family and to play a more active role in the Order. Fred and George were, surprisingly enough, working closely with Snape on several items to be used against the Death Eater army.

Harry greeted several more order members, before noticing there were a few who stood in the background, making no attempt to approach him. Remus was among them.

"Harry, Draco, please have a seat."

Harry turned to Dumbledore, acknowledging his request. He realized that the Headmaster looked so much wearier this year, so much older. He and Draco moved to take the two empty seats in front of his desk. Harry looked over at his fellow classmate and wondered again what he was doing here. As far as he knew, Draco was not a member of the Order, and even Hermione and Ron were not allowed to sit in on meetings.

He turned his attention back to the Headmaster. After all, this decision was life impacting. It could mean the difference between life and death for so many people.

"Harry, the Order has come to a decision, but there are some people who are a bit...hesitant about your request," Dumbledore began. "While I've informed them that this Order is run on a majority vote, they would still like the opportunity to talk to you later on."

Harry nodded. He'd figured that would be inevitable. No one survived in the Order by trusting everything presented to them, no matter what the rest of the world thought.

"Very well, in that case we have decided to grant your request. You shall be removed from all of your classes this year and be given specialized instruction. We have, however, needed to make a few adjustments to your plan," Dumbledore said before pausing again.

"Thank you, sir. I'm sure whatever changes you've made will be fine," Harry replied quietly.

Dumbledore nodded before continuing. "Hogwarts will not be the best place for this training to take place, Harry. There is no place in this castle secure enough to hide you for an entire year. There are hundreds of students wandering the halls and we cannot risk the chance of this plan being uncovered. Now, the Ministry in the United States has offered us the use of one of their unplottable training facilities, located in Baltimore, Maryland. Directly under the Inner Harbor, if I'm not to be mistaken. You will be leaving with your instructors in a few hours."

"That's fine, sir," Harry said, voice still soft. "I've only one question. What shall I tell my housemates? They'll ask questions when I go to pack."

"There will be no need for packing, Harry. I had the house-elves deliver your trunk to my office instead of your dorm. As for what to tell your friends, I'll take care of that as well. You'll be staying here until your departure, going over your new curriculum and discussing a few things with everyone," Dumbledore answered. The ever-present twinkle in his eyes seemed to brighten for a second, and Harry's stomach clenched. That was never a good sign.

"Now, your instructors. Your primary instructor will be Professor Snape, who will also act as your guardian while you are away," Dumbledore said. Harry was very aware of the rest of the Order watching him, probably waiting to see how he took this information. His animosity towards Snape was widely known, and as of last term, he still hated the Potions Master with a passion. Harry wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing him throw a temper tantrum.

"He is probably the best choice, sir. I can think of no-one better at the moment," Harry said respectfully, sneaking a glance at the aforementioned professor. Snape looked surprised for a moment, but masked it well. Harry expected no less from a man who'd hidden his true thoughts and feelings from Voldemort for twenty years.

"Good, good. Now, your other instructor will assist Severus in his teachings, and be your dueling partner. Draco, you are ready to go as well?"

"Yes sir," Draco replied, his trademarked smirk absent from his face.

Harry looked at him with barely disguised shock. He wondered how long the Slytherin had known about this, since Draco seemed decidedly unsurprised at Dumbledore's question.

"Is there anything wrong Harry?" The headmaster asked, eyes twinkling madly.

Again, Harry was keenly aware of the eyes on him. His reaction here was important. If his relationship with Snape could be described as hatred, he couldn't even imagine what his relationship with Draco would be called. He carefully thought out his answer before replying.

"No sir. I can see why Draco would be the logical choice for this," Harry said slowly. He was slightly amused at the quiet gasps he heard as people reacted to his words. Draco was staring at him strangely, and Harry realized that he'd used his given name for the first time ever. "I've no problem with my instructors, sir."

Dumbledore smiled at him broadly. "Very good, my boy! Well then, shall we move on to your curriculum? Both Severus and Draco have a background in the Dark Arts. While there are many in this room not keen on you learning anything in this area, I have to admit you are right. It will give you quite the advantage with Voldemort. He will not be expecting you to have any knowledge of Dark Spells. You will be taught both offensive and defensive magic.

"Second, we have the problem of your wand's reaction to Voldemort's. We know about your affinity for wandless magic, and you will be developing that skill. Draco will be taking over your instruction in this area, as he is experienced in wandless magic. Severus will be overseeing the whole thing, of course."

"Of course," Harry murmured, an amused smile on his face.

"Since you and Draco will both need to take your N.E.W.T.S. at the end of term, Severus will be tutoring you both on material that is likely to be tested. This will be a very truncated schedule, and will not go as in depth as the classes here at Hogwarts, but it should cover enough for you both to do well on exams. I believe that is all for the moment. Do you have any questions, Harry?"

"No sir, your plans seem fine," Harry said. It was just as he'd requested. The only surprise had been Draco's apparent skill at wandless magic. He'd known his rival just about matched him in magical skill, but it was still a shock. He wondered briefly how being taught by Draco would go.

"Shall we move on to the interrogation now, sir?" he asked wryly.

Dumbledore smiled at him and nodded. Harry sighed and stood to face the small crowd behind him. He looked around and recalled who hadn't greeted him when he entered the room and decided to start with them.

"Remus," he began, "I get the feeling you have some objections."

Remus Lupin stepped forward. Harry noted that he seemed to be so much frailer than he'd been in his third year. Sirius' death had affected him greatly, Harry knew. They'd spent quite a few nights talking about Harry's godfather, and Remus had been subject to numerous tantrums and breakdowns on Harry's part. The werewolf had become the most recent of the revolving father figures in Harry's life, and had done a smashing job so far.

"Harry, I just don't think you learning Dark magic is a good idea," Remus said in his usual quiet manner. "The Dark Arts aren't something to be taken lightly."

"That's right," Mad-eye Moody interrupted. "They aren't to be messed about in by a boy such as yourself. You should be staying as far away from that as you can, not diving in head first."

Harry sighed and looked down at the floor for a few long moments. He knew that Moody and probably quite a few others were against this plan solely due to their fears. Their fears of him, specifically. The Dark Arts had been banned for a reason. The affects of their use varied. Some people remained untouched, while others seemed to lose a part of themselves. The part that was able to distinguish right from wrong. Voldemort and his Death Eaters were prime examples of this.

"Look, I know why so many of you are against this idea. You are worried about what using dark magic is going to do to me; how it's going to change me. I suppose I can't really guarantee that it won't, but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to turn into Voldemort's replacement. Tom Riddle knew long before he was my age that he was evil, and had already began his plans to take over the world. I've no intention to do anything of the sort. Once all of this is over, I fully plan on holing myself up in the middle of nowhere and living my life out as far away from this world as possible."

Someone snorted at that, Harry wasn't sure whom. The anger he'd spent all summer learning how to control was threatening to break through his carefully constructed walls. If that happened, Harry knew he'd have no chance at gaining the full trust of the Order. He'd acted a child for far too long in their presence, and his extra chances were running low.

"Do you honestly expect us to believe that?" Moody asked, his magical eye fixed steadily on Harry. "You expect us to believe that you can handle the Dark Arts and come out unscathed, boy?" He stepped towards Harry, so close in fact, that Harry could see the glowing flecks in the iris of his eye, still trained on him.

"You don't know what it is you're getting into, and I'll be damned if I give my okay to turn you Dark."

Harry closed his eyes and clung desperately to the small amount of control he had on his emotions. He was so perilously close to losing it, and that was just unacceptable.

--

"Well, that was fun," Draco said as he hopped down from Dumbledore's desk. "You sure those people were your friends, Potter? If we go by that treatment, you and me have been bosom buddies since we were two."

Harry began to laugh. That statement had just been so absolutely ridiculous and totally true, all at the same time. As he laughed the tension drained from his limbs, and he dropped boneless into the armchair he'd vacated earlier. Leave it to Malfoy to come up with just the right thing to say to make me feel better, he thought.

"Thanks, I needed that," Harry said as he rubbed at his eyes. He looked over at Malfoy. "So. Wandless magic. That's impressive," he said.

"Careful there, Potter, that could be mistaken for a compliment by some," Draco replied.

Harry raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to let out a witty retort. His favorite potions professor interrupted him, however.

"Gentlemen, if you would stop the witty banter for two seconds, perhaps we could get to the important issues? Such as a more detailed training plan? Of course, Potter, since you are the all powerful Boy-Who-Lived, you probably have no need of such things," Snape said.

Harry sighed. It was going to be a long year.

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