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Harry never saw himself as a leader before. Sure, he was ‘the Chosen One’ and more often than not, he was the one leading Ron and Hermione into the face of danger – but that was by fate not by choice (and trouble always seemed to find them anyways). It had come as a shock, when a group of scrawny, terrified, young witches and wizards came to him for help, having lost hope and faith in everything else in the world (or well, maybe just in Umbridge). It seemed like a lost cause right from the beginning. How does one hide twenty-eight and odd teenagers to practice magic with them, if the castle one wants to practice in, is closely patrolled and spied upon by a certain witch dressed in pink and her Slytherin spies? But if you see what Harry has seen by the tender age of 15, you would want your friends to come prepared to the fight too (best not to think of all the scenarios he could not prepare them for) – so they searched on.
As always, Hogwarts answered their cry of help. After tireless hours of searching and one tearful attempt of getting 20 people in and out of the Chamber of Secrets in perfect condition, The Room of Requirement seemed to appear out of thin air, perfectly suited for the youth to practice fighting Death Eaters in. And so, Dumbledore’s Army was officially formed (they even signed their names on a parchment – although Hermione refused to tell them what the exact consequences were. Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know). As time went by, more students were recruited and although Umbridge’s spies tried their best to catch them, with the help of the Marauder’s Map and the fake coins Hermione had bewitched for them, the DA was always one step ahead.
So by the end of Autumn 1995, Harry found himself in a position of being a teacher and a not – so accidental conspirator. Truth is, no one ever told him how much responsibility and effort it took to run an illegal underground movement (or a study group, whatever you preferred to call it) – but as it turned out, he rather enjoyed teaching. Yes, it was still about survival, but suddenly he wasn’t just some scared kid who had to learn advanced spells at an age you are only supposed to stress about your Charms homework – he finally got to use his knowledge, this absurd, earned – by – blood knowledge for good. Nothing could quite compete with the way he felt when he saw a student’s eyes glistening of wonder as they cast their first Patronus. After all the anger and all the hurt he felt during the summer, after the fear that his friends forgot about him for good, after learning that while he was locked in a house with his nightmares the others were living together at Grimmauld place – after having been through hell and still not being quite sure whether or not he was breathing fresh air again, the DA made him feel whole. Okay, even. So he taught them everything he knew: he taught them about the ways you can stand up and look your enemy in the eyes, even though all you want to do is scream, he taught them that in order to win, you had to fight dirty, he taught them not to believe a word coming from your oppressors and to always listen to reason first (lose your head in battle and you are dead – he did not mention all the times he had lost his, they did not need to hear about all the darkness inside him) and to trust your instincts. He told them how you should always keep your friends close but your enemies closer – easier to curse them, that way – and to never never judge a creature by their appearance. Kindness could reside in the absurd and wicked, too. He showed them all the ways you could twist someone’s arm so it would hurt them best, how you load a gun and how to use a knife so the cuts won’t stop bleeding – because the muggle world was cruel too, but that did not mean that they could not use all the ways humanity has perfected to kill each other.
He prepared them for a world darker and scarier they could ever imagine, the world that awaited them when they went outside and a world that would try it’s best to wipe them off the face of the Earth. But he also taught them that to be kind is a virtue above all, and how one well-placed Expelliarmus was worth more than all the counter – curses put together. He showed them how protecting and loving each other was worth more than being the best and overpowering the ones closest to you to show that you could. The rules were clear and simple: keep your eyes open and your wand ready. Constant vigilance no matter the costs, as an old man once said to him.
As the year progressed, Harry realized, they weren’t just a study group anymore. What they did in those stolen hours started to change the students for the better. It made their reflexes faster, their wits sharper and their thinking strategic – sure, it also made the look in their eyes sadder, but there are certain prices to pay when you are fighting a rebellion. They were not scarred teenagers anymore but young adults sure of their curses and spells instead. They were forced to grow up fast, and it broke Harry’s heart sometimes – but when you have been born during one war and are preparing for another, there is no time for childhood. Their community – consisting of cunning Gryffindors, courageous Hufflepuffs, loyal – to – the – bone Ravenclaws and the occasional smart – ass Slytherins – grew closer day by day. They weren’t just classmates anymore: family was a word more suited to describe the bond they had formed with each other. Their days were spent in a haze of DA sessions and running from Umbridge and Filch – potential spies were waiting for them around every corner. They looked at outsiders with wary and occasionally hate – by spring they accepted new members only after heavy inspections. They kept their own close and apart from the dangers Hogwarts had to offer.
That is why it took everyone by surprise when one sun-filled afternoon, Draco Malfoy knocked on the door of the Room of Requirement. He stood in the door, dazed – it seemed as if he, too, was wondering what he was doing there. His storm – grey eyes looked worried, his fair hair astray: as if he had been running (but maybe he was running all his life – running from all the choices his parentage and destiny already made for him). He did not look particularly dangerous in any way, but the students present took up their fighting stances the moment he had entered. How did he find them? Why did the Room let him in? Harry could not fathom.
“Expelliarmus!” the spell had come from Ron, who had caught Draco’s wand in an instant and looked as if he was wondering whether he should break it or not (Harry never quite noticed before, that his hair looked like flames of a burning bonfire) “Never thought that a coward like you would have the courage to come face to face with the enemy.”
“Isn’t it past your bedtime, Malfoy?”
“Won’t mummy be angry, if you don’t get your beauty sleep?”
“Did you guys see, that he did not even try to block the spell? I knew he was quite slow, but this is honestly even worse than I expected”
“Get out of here, Slytherin!”
“Stand down!” Harry’s voice rang clearly through the room “No need to scare off our guest. What do you want, Draco?”
“Peace?” even his own tone seemed to question the statement.
Harry looked at him for a moment. His posture reminded him of a scared animal – yet he has not lost the significant grace that followed him wherever he went. What the hell, Harry thought, how am I better, if I don’t give him a chance. “All right everybody, thanks for your work today, next session’s date will be announced through the usual channels.” he looked pointedly at the students. A loud chatter – confused, angry, what is Potter doing? chatter – broke out instantly.
“Please.” Harry finally raised his voice - a rare occurrence during DA sessions (it must be serious).
The room began to clear out – they did, however, manage to steel furious glances at the Slytherin standing by the wall. Hermione (amazing, brilliant Hermione) looked worried – “Be careful” she whispered as she slipped past him on her way out. Ron reluctantly gave the Hawthorn wand back to its rightful owner. And suddenly, the room was empty; save for one particularly well-dressed wizard with a blond complexion and Harry.
“Do you remember, on the train? Where I asked you to be my friend? Oooh I was so scared back then. To be fair, I was also a douche – but I wanted nothing more than for you to take my hand. I sometimes wonder what would have happened, if things turned out differently. If I wasn’t trying to prove to the world so desperately that I was enough by the only way I knew how – abusing power. If I had come to you with trust in my heart, not just hostility. The world would have been a kinder place, perhaps”
“Perhaps” Harry never noticed before, how sad Draco’s eyes looked “What I remember more clearly, though is our first meeting – at Madam Malkin’s. What a sorry sight we must have been: two boys, one with access to everything and anything he wanted in the world and one with torn clothes hanging off his shoulder – yet both of them, so lonely and broken. I think you just had more practice to hide it. I wish I had been more understanding – but you reminded me of everything I wanted to leave behind: an oppressive family, relatives, and cousins who thought that in order to prove that you have power you have to abuse it. I am sorry for hating you for years – I never knew you did not have another choice. You can’t choose where you come from, Draco. Don’t blame yourself.”
“You know?” You know of all the dark things, of all the snakes and skulls lurking in the shadows?
“I have spent too much time obsessively following every footstep of yours, not to know.”
Draco chuckled at the thought. Harry felt bittersweet – perhaps, in another universe, they could have been great friends. But then again, perhaps, there was still a chance to reconcile in this one as well.
“I do have one question, though: why now? what changed? You never seemed to stop being furious”
“I never was furious – not with you anyhow. Not the way I thought I hated you. I only hated the thought of being stuck, the thought of not being able to do anything, without Father's approval, without anyone stabbing me in the back. Why do you think I joined Umbridge’s little gang of spies? Never a better place to hide than right under their nose. And now… there are talks that the Dark Lord has plans for me. That I” his voice cracked “That I will be forced to take the Mark. I want out, Potter. I do not want to feel stuck anymore. I am tired of fighting for the wrong side.”
The choice Harry had to make was not a hard one. Their rebellion needed more soldiers – but most of all, Draco needed a friend. The boy with the lightning scar took a step towards the boy dressed in emerald green.
“Welcome to Dumbledore’s Army.”
Draco held out his hand (to secure the deal? as a peace offering? maybe both) – and this time, Harry took it.