Methods of Distraction

"I want to let Slytherins into the D.A." Harry figured he'd get his way -- he was the leader of their group, after all, and he was determined not to head anything that dismissed a whole group simply for being a member of said group. Wasn't that what they were fighting against?

He was voted down. Completely, utterly crushed. All of the Ravenclaws, a good deal of the Hufflepuffs, and even a few Gryffindors vehemently disagreed with him.

"They're minions of the Dark Lord!" Ernie, who tended toward the hysterical.

"When have they ever done anything for us?" Michael, who garnered several nods and murmurs of agreement.

"I just don't trust them." Ginny, who shrugged, daring anyone to contradict her.

"I quit." Harry, who ignored the stares and walked right out of the Room of Requirement.

The next day, Hermione and Ron urged him to return. The club needed him. They needed him. "I'm starting a new club," Harry stated. "You're free to join me." With that, Harry headed over to the Slytherin table and wordlessly stood facing the Head Boy. After a few moments, Malfoy finally dragged himself from his conversation with Crabbe and faced Harry.

Cold grey eyes regarded him impassively. With no fire behind them, Malfoy resembled his father even more strongly and Harry momentarily wondered if he'd done the right thing. "Yes?" Malfoy said dismissively, eyes quickly flicking up and down Harry's form.

Ignoring the shiver that ran down his spine, Harry gathered his courage and said, "So, I quit the Defence Association last night because they wouldn't let your house join."

"Do you want a medal?" Something unreadable flashed across Malfoy's face.

Harry bristled, but ploughed on, ignoring the jibe. "Anyway, I'm starting a new group and you're all invited. Seven o'clock, sixth floor, the hallway near Barnabus the Barmy. Come, don't come, it makes no difference to me." It did, but Harry couldn't say that.

He walked away before Malfoy got a chance to answer.

That evening Harry paced nervously in front of the blank wall, waiting for the room to appear. There was a faint glimmer of an outline, then nothing, which Harry chalked up to nerves; he hadn't the right mindset needed to concentrate on the Room. Would no one show up? Worse yet, would everyone show up? The prospect of finding himself alone among a room full of angry Slytherins didn't really hold a lot of appeal. But he had to make it appear now because he didn't much feel like seeing what happened when twenty teenagers with conflicting wants gathered together.

That strengthened his resolve. The door shimmered into view and when Harry opened the door, the room looked much like a typical D.A. meeting, only there were some austere, high-backed chairs, along with previously non-existent green and silver accents. Apparently, Harry thought the requirements were a bit different for the Slytherins. Surprising how the room sometimes knew what he wanted better than he himself did.

Stepping back into the hallway, he spied a few early arrivals. Ron and Hermione with Neville and Luna in tow. A troll in the tapestry silently threatened the newcomers, raising a club in the air, but Harry greeted them happily, the nervousness rolling away a bit. "Glad you came," Harry said to Ron and Hermione, then faced Neville and Luna. "You guys, too. You didn't have to."

Neville shrugged. "I already decided I was with you, Harry. If that means Slytherins, too, then so be it. Just...just don't pair me with Crabbe or Goyle, okay?"

Harry laughed, then grew serious. "If anyone even shows up. I didn't really wait around for an answer."

"Daddy says hope can be found where you'd least expect it." Luna regarded them all with wide blue eyes. "I was thinking of searching behind Mr. Hagrid's hut."

"Or Snape's office," Neville suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"Or the dungeons," Hermione said, searching Harry's face carefully.

Harry merely offered her a small smile in reply, then turned towards Ron, desiring a subject change for reasons unknown to him. "Ginny wouldn't come." It wasn't a question.

Ron shook his head. "I tried. I mean, it's not I like those slimy gits, either, but it's for you, so I thought she'd come." He worried his lower lip. "I think she was thinking about her diary. Not too many good experiences with Slytherins."

"It's okay, Ron," Harry assured him. "We all have to make our choices. I don't hate her or anything." He shuffled from one foot to the other. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Seven-oh-two, Potter," a familiar voice drawled behind him. Harry whirled around to find Malfoy, flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle, and a handful of Slytherins behind him. Many looked suspicious, others merely curious. Crabbe and Goyle, Harry thought, looked hungry. He hoped the Room of Requirement provided refreshments. "Slytherins must be fashionably late."

"Two minutes is fashionable?" Harry retorted and Ron sniggered. "Never mind. Hi. Thanks for showing up."

"Are you planning on having a meeting in the hallway?" Pansy Parkinson asked incredulously.

Harry looked startled and shook his head. "Er, no. No, it's in here. This way." He grasped the door handle and headed back into the Room. As the others followed him, he saw the newcomers were a bit impressed. He knew they'd never seen the room and a little curl of pleasure formed at their reaction. A good foot to start on, though the butterflies were still flapping about at full speed.

Malfoy drew him aside. "Potter, what is this place? I can't very well believe that Dumbledore is enough of a coot to hide something like this from the student body."

Harry didn't answer, choosing instead to shrug and clap his hands to get everyone's attention. Malfoy looked startled; Harry supposed he wasn't used to being ignored. "I don't know how everyone's defence skills are, but Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville have been doing this for over two years now. They can help you. I suppose we'll start by pairing off?"

He heard one of the Slytherin boys -- Harry wasn't sure of his name, but he was on the Quidditch team and a year or so younger than Harry -- mutter, "He's off his rocker if he thinks I'm touching a Mudblood," while eyeing Hermione in disgust. Harry stalked over to the boy and stood toe-to-toe with him. The boy had enough sense to be afraid, at least until Harry leaned in a kissed him full on the mouth, ignoring the shocked gasps of everyone present. "Mmmphh!" cried the boy, pushing Harry away by his shoulders.

"There," said Harry, once they separated. "Now you've kissed a half-blood, so you can touch her. I swear Hermione won't shove her tongue down your throat." Hermione blushed deep red and looked like she was about to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, she offered Harry a small smile. "I don't know why you're here, but whatever happens here, stays here and we all work together. Got it?"

The boy nodded frantically and made a quick retreat. Harry smiled and faced the group again. "Welcome to...well, whatever this is going to be called. There's a war going on and I think everyone has the right to learn defend themselves, no matter their house, their beliefs, or their name." At this, he pointedly looked at Malfoy, who was regarding him impassively. "So, let's get started. Pair up already!"

No one moved for a moment, the Slytherins on one side, his friends on the other. Then, Neville walked across the room and dragged away the poor boy whose lips were still red from Harry's brutal treatment, telling him with a laugh, "I'm a pureblood, but I'm nowhere near as careful as Hermione. Bet you'll be seeing the error of your ways soon!" Harry couldn't help grinning at that.

They all paired off, two by two. Of course, some Slytherins still had to work with each other, but Ron faced Nott, Luna studied Parkinson carefully, and Hermione sized up Bulstrode again. Malfoy waited around until only Harry was left, but Harry wasn't particularly surprised by that.

"Suppose we're partners, then?" Harry cocked his head to one side.

"Scared, Potter?"

He wasn't, but he did briefly cross his fingers behind his back and hoped this wouldn't turn out like Lockhart's duelling club.

Feint. "Malfoy?"

"What is it, Potter?" Duck. Roll. Cover.

"Why--" Pant. Turn. "--why did you come here tonight?"

Jump. Headbutt. "I'm endlessly fascinated by you."

Pause. Hit. Ow. Harry rubbed at his arm, where Malfoy had winged him with a tickling hex. His funny bone tingled. "Liar. Really."

"Curiosity, mostly. Why would the Golden Boy invite a bunch of dungeon dwellers to his haunt?" Dodge. Malfoy sent a chair across the room; Harry easily deflected it. "Nice place, by the way."

"You're the liar, Malfoy, not me. I meant what I said. Everyone should be able to defend themselves." Harry brushed a lock of sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. "Will your father be mad?" Harry successfully stunned Malfoy -- both literally and figuratively -- red beam hitting Malfoy in the chest just as his eyes went wide at Harry's question. He crouched by his opponent's supine form and cast the counter-hex. "Break?"

Malfoy nodded, looking a little breathless, as Harry straightened up again. When Harry offered him a hand up, he took it and Harry took note of Malfoy's elegant hands with their long, thin fingers and impeccably groomed nails. Soft, too, which seemed impossible because Harry knew how often Malfoy was on a broom. Harry stuck one of his own grubby fingers in his mouth and chewed on a hangnail.

"Dirty habit, that," Malfoy said as they settled on a bench at a comfortable vantage point for watching the rest of the room.

"We all have them."

Malfoy shrugged. "Father won't be mad because Father won't know. He's in Azkaban."

Harry looked over at Malfoy, who was definitely not looking back. "Almost forgot about that."

"I didn't," Malfoy said tersely.

"Miss him?"

"How is that your business?"

Harry shrugged as Malfoy turned to face him. "It's not. You don't have to answer."

"I don't have to do anything."

"True enough." Harry leaned back so his feet dangled a few inches above the ground. "D'ya have the Dark Mark?"

Harry was quite sure that if Malfoy had been drinking anything, Harry would have been the recipient of a spit take. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Just looking out for myself." Harry turned and faced the duelling participants again. No blood to speak of.

"Very Slytherin of you," Malfoy said with the faintest hint of admiration. "The answer is no. And I don't plan on it, if it can be helped." It was Malfoy's turn to watch the others, while Harry found himself watching Malfoy.

The next few meetings were surprisingly calm. Pansy Parkinson had a shrieking fit because Hermione singed her hair, but that was easily repaired. Crabbe and Goyle -- who always paired with each other because no one else wanted to risk it -- simultaneously transfigured one another into cakes, but Malfoy calmly undid the effects as though this was a regular occurrence. In their second meeting, Neville truly did teach Graham Corbett -- the boy who'd insulted Hermione -- a lesson. Corbett tried hexing Neville, who easily deflected the blow back onto his partner, turning him into a toad. Amused, Harry watched Neville introduce Corbett to Trevor and thought he heard Neville mutter, "Never mess with a Longbottom."

Then, the newcomers arrived. It was mostly Gryffindors, at first. Colin and Dennis Creevey arrived of their own accord, pledging to stand by Harry's side no matter what. Neville and Ron worked on Dean and Seamus, citing dorm solidarity, but Dean was reluctant because of Ginny. However, she assured him that they all had to make their own choices.

Hermione appealed to Padma Patil's sense of logic, which led to several of the Ravenclaws attending the fifth meeting. Parvati, wanting to stand by her sister's side, dragged Lavender along for the next.

Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott showed up next. "Ernie's just overreacting," Susan said. "Besides," Hannah added, "meetings are no fun without you guys." Harry smiled at that, pleased when they split up and introduced themselves to two Slytherin fifth years that Harry didn't recognise. The number of Slytherins appearing week after week was also growing.

More Hufflepuffs arrived the week after that. Justin Finch-Fletchley practically dragged Zacharias Smith and Ernie by the ears, growling that they weren't about to ruin his chances with Hannah.

Hormones, it seemed, could conquer any animosity.

When each meeting ended, Harry's smile grew a little larger and the bubble of hope he hadn't realised he'd been quashing floated a little higher. It didn't matter that he was sweaty and tired after sparring with Malfoy; the few minutes after everyone dispersed quickly became the highlight of his week.

Ron finally broke, unwilling to have a rift in his family any longer. "Ginny and I had a long talk tonight."

"And?" Harry carefully kept any trace of hope from his voice.

"And she still doesn't trust the Slytherins, but she misses the group, she misses me and Dean, and she wants to participate." Ron rubbed his eyes.

"I want her there, you know. Did you tell her that?"

Ron nodded. "Of course. She's been a really big help to us, hasn't she?"

"Definitely," Harry agreed. "And she's part of your family, so she's part of mine. I've missed her being around." Harry flopped down on his bed, propping himself up with one elbow. "These last few weeks have been good, haven't they?"

"Yeah. Better than I expected, in fact." Ron fidgeted with the cuff of his robes and cleared his throat. "Do you think they have anything planned?"

"Who?"

"You know. The Slytherins, Malfoy...." Ron looked extremely uncomfortable, not quite meeting Harry's eyes.

Harry rolled onto his back and stared at his canopy. "Don't know what they can pull there that they can't pull in the halls, Ron. And thanks to you guys, they're outnumbered again." Harry smiled. "We can out-hex them any day, still."

Ron laughed. "Damn, I was kind of hoping they try something. Been looking for a good fight."

Growing suddenly serious, Harry faced Ron again. "We'll have plenty of opportunity for that."

"You're probably right." Ron studied his hands again. "Meeting tomorrow, though?"

"Yeah." The smile returned to Harry's face and his stomach fluttered.

"Good. 'Night, Harry."

"'Night, Ron."

Relaxed for the first time in ages, Harry instantly fell into a deep sleep.

Harry arrived at an obscenely early time for the next Not-Quite-D.A. meeting, rushing straight from Transfiguration to the Room of Requirement, figuring he could grab food from the kitchens afterwards. So, it was a bit of a shock to him to find Malfoy puzzling over the blank wall. Barnabus was trying to direct him, but a troll had clamped a meaty hand over his mouth, so he wasn't having too much success.

"You're early," Harry said, then immediately wished a troll would silence him. The Master of the Obvious Award probably had a lot of competition, but it seemed like Harry was now in the running.

Malfoy knocked on the solid obstruction. "How do we get in here? Is there a password or something?"

Harry shook his head. "Just concentrate. You know...on what you want. That's how the room appears."

"I don't think you need to see what I want, Potter." Malfoy glanced in Harry's direction and arched an eyebrow.

Blushing, Harry stared at his trainers. Why was he blushing? He tried explaining better. "No, uh, concentrate on what you want the meeting to look like. If you stand a bit away, I'll show you."

Malfoy nodded and took a step back, while Harry concentrated on making the door appear. After half a minute, it came into view and Harry ushered Malfoy inside. "Impressive, Potter," Malfoy said, gazing around the room as though seeing it for the first time. "This room has...possibilities."

"No way, Malfoy. We need this room for training -- no bringing your girlfriends up here to impress them."

Idly scanning the bookshelves, Malfoy fingered a row. "Who said anything about girlfriends?"

Harry's mouth dropped open a little and he stared at the back of Malfoy's head. He closed his eyes and shook his head as though to slough off his obviously wrong perceptions. "I, uh, I..."

Malfoy spun around suddenly, startling Harry. "We've got a lot of time to kill, yes?" Harry nodded. "Let's spar. I think I'll wipe the floor with you."

The competitive instinct welled up in Harry's throat. "No way," he retorted. "You're mine."

One corner of Malfoy's lips quirked. "Whatever you say, Potter." Malfoy instantly drew his wand, sending a ball of fire in Harry's direction.

"Protego!" Harry shouted automatically, pulling up a shield. The fireball instantly dispersed. "Dirty fighter."

"As in all things," Malfoy retorted, sending another hex barrelling Harry's way. He felt the shield wear off at this second hit, then shot off his own spell. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Malfoy easily side-stepped it. "See, Potter? I'm better than you. Have you to thank for my improved reflexes. Stupefy!"

Harry tried ducking, but the Stunner still hit him in the head. "Oof!" He flew a few feet in the air, landing hard on his back. Malfoy crouched next to him and Harry was struck with a sudden sense of déjà vu. He tried propping himself up, but Malfoy straddled his waist and placed a hand on Harry's chest, preventing him from getting up. "Uh, Malfoy," he managed, his breathing laboured. "What are you doing?"

Malfoy leaned over, his mouth close to Harry's cheek. He felt Malfoy's breath tickle his skin, uncomfortably intimate. "This is how battles are fought, Potter. Not across a room, but hand-to-hand. Got to unnerve your opponent, right?" Harry struggled to sit up or throw Malfoy off or something. "Have I unnerved you yet?"

Turning his head slightly, Harry found himself face-to-face with his opponent. Eyes wide, he nodded. "Yeah, you're freaking me out a little. Let me up."

"No, I'm your enemy. This is the real thing, so fight me. You're supposed to be ready for this -- prove it. Get me off." Malfoy's voice hitched a little.

Harry's eyes widened further, breathing deeply. "Fine." He closed what little distance lay between them, pressing their lips together. Malfoy made a surprised noise, but didn't pull back, so Harry took the opportunity to nibble on Malfoy's lower lip. Another noise, less surprised. Harry flopped back, circled his arms around Malfoy's body, then shifted his whole body weight and rolled. Now on top of Malfoy, he pulled back and pointed his wand at Malfoy's throat. "I win."

Shockingly, Malfoy didn't push Harry or his wand away. Instead, he rested his head on the floor and focused on a spot somewhere over Harry's left shoulder. "Is that why you wanted me here?" he asked. Malfoy's voice wasn't angry or full of lust. There wasn't much to it at all. "An impossible crush, right? But nothing's impossible for perfect Potter." Some anger crept in at this.

Harry was quick to refute the accusations. "No, that had nothing to do with it. Believe it or not, Malfoy, I haven't really given you much thought in quite awhile. I'd just been thinking about house unity and what the Sorting Hat has tried telling us for the past three years." He let his arms relax at his side, shoulders slumping slightly. "I was just trying to distract you."

Malfoy struggled to sit up, forcing Harry to slide down to his waist. As Harry moved to stand, Malfoy grabbed a fistful of Harry's robes. "Wait." Harry looked at him as Malfoy tugged him down to his level and kissed him again. This kiss was slow and intimate, Harry far too aware of every part of his body that was touching Malfoy's. When Malfoy's tongue slid across his lips, Harry parted them easily, simultaneously led by instinct and completely unsure about what to do. This time, Harry made the small noise as Malfoy languorously explored his tongue, his teeth, the top of his mouth. Malfoy pulled back and grazed kisses along his jawline and neck. It wasn't until Malfoy reached his collarbone that Harry became aware of the press of Malfoy's wand against his own throat. Harry gasped, startled, and struggled to pull away as Malfoy took the opportunity to roll Harry onto his back again. "You're right. That is the proper way to distract someone."

The door opened then, where Ron and Hermione stood gaping, Ginny in tow. Colour immediately flushed Ron's cheeks and he moved for his wand, but Harry shouted, "No!" He pushed Malfoy off him completely. "Stop, it's really all right. Malfoy was just teaching me a lesson."

He offered his hand to help Malfoy up; Malfoy took it.

It was the duel with Malfoy that made Harry re-evaluate the group. It wasn't fair to have only one leader since so many of them had varied experiences. They kind of all agreed to split responsibility, though the idea was Harry's. Ginny immediately approved, saying she always wanted to be the boss for at least a little while, while Hermione came up with five feet worth of ideas overnight.

This worked out better than Harry would have foreseen; the Slytherins respected their own above all others, no matter what their feelings or what side they were on. Of course, none admitted that they were minions of Voldemort, not that he had expected that. Rumours floated around about supposed spies in the group, but so far nothing had happened. Besides, as Harry had always maintained, this new group was for defensive manoeuvres only. Plotting against Voldemort, dreaming about his enemy's demise (or dreading his own) -- that was something for restless nights or hushed conversations in the Common Room. The improved D.A. was escape.

Harry almost forgot was smiling was like, but remembering made it worth it.

It was Malfoy's turn to lead the group and Harry ignored the way he spoke directly to the Slytherins. Harry was guilty of that, too, and as long as everyone could hear what was said, he didn't much care in which direction the speaker faced. Besides, Harry could have hardly spoken on the proper rules of the duel. Malfoy had an excess of knowledge about custom that one can only learn from growing up around it. Hermione couldn't get that from a book, Ron's family thwarted that kind of background, and Harry never really felt more ignorant than when presented with the aeons of wizarding culture.

However, after Malfoy was done explaining seconds, correct stance, and tradition, he looked directly at Harry and told them all to fuck it. "War isn't a proper duel and it's more important to subvert expectation than anything." Addressing the Slytherins directly again, Malfoy said, "The important thing is knowing where your opponent is coming from. Someone might just be expecting careful opposition and that'd be when you'd have the upper-hand." When Malfoy was done speaking, everyone split up into twos, ready to demonstrate what they'd learned, then forget it all, so they could win. Malfoy walked over to Harry, ready to begin. Harry expected this and it was comfortable in an uncomfortable sort of way.

They didn't always face each other, -- sometimes they chose other partners, sometimes Harry would walk around observing -- but it left Harry breathless when they did. There were a few others who gave Harry a good run, like Ron or Zacharias or Millicent, but Malfoy nearly equalled him in skill. Harry taught Malfoy to improvise, Malfoy improved Harry's form. They taught each other their own ways of fighting dirty.

The meetings, the planning -- they were building Harry's confidence again after all the loss he'd experienced, while simultaneously taking his mind off the Big Important Stuff.

And sometimes, sometimes, Malfoy would show up early and they'd distract each other in other ways. That was when Harry forgot everything except Malfoy.