The Secret's In The Telling by Sakuri

chapter 13

Chapter 13: In The Name of Preparation

xxx

That weekend Harry made his way to the Room of Requirement. Hermione had cast him a worried look as he'd left the common room alone, but since this was the first time in over a week he'd disappeared, she'd let him go without comment.

Now, lying on his back on the stern-looking bed the Room had conjured, he absently spun his wand between his finders like a baton, staring up at it. The book on Animagi was next to him, open to a page nearing the end. He was almost done with his study now, ready to attempt the transformation in a few days. He was looking forward to that, if only because it meant finally being able to tell his friends what he'd been doing all this time. He hadn't told them yet because Hermione would have said it was dangerous, and Ron would have wanted to join in, which would have been a distraction.

But for the moment, he couldn't concentrate on reading. His mind flitted from one topic to the next, never settling, going from the Ravenclaw-Slytherin Quiddich match coming up, to his conversation with Ron that morning about Snape still being missing, and finally to the Transfiguration homework he was supposed to be doing right now.

Sighing, he dropped his wand onto the bed next to him. In what was quickly becoming a habit, he pressed his fingers to the centre of his chest, where his new scar crossed. Its presence didn't bother him as much as Ron and Hermione seemed to think it should. It wasn't exactly disfiguring. Barely noticeable, in fact, just a silvery line on his skin, neat and almost surgical. Like he'd said, the only thing that really galled him was that Malfoy had got the better of him with a cheap trick. Or a Slytherin trick, as the blond called it. How typical.

Rolling his eyes, he thought back to the unfortunate DA lesson. Ron would murder him for the thoughts going through his head, but he couldn't help but feel that Malfoy had been – or, rather, could be – helpful. For the first time, the demonstration he'd staged had been realistic. Alright, the Slytherin had been excessive – stupidly so – but Harry couldn't get rid of the memory of how rapt the entire gathering of students had been during the duel. They'd been shocked and angry that Malfoy actually wanted to do damage, and was prepared to ignore the rules to do so, so different from their usual practice duels – but at the same time, they'd seen something real. Anyone they faced during the war would fight in the same way as the Slytherin – wanting to hurt. The DA members, supposedly Hogwarts' junior defence, would have to get used to that. But it was… It was something he couldn't teach them.

Malfoy could, though.

He was the perfect controllable factor in a controllable environment. Capable of providing a challenge, an enemy, of sorts, and unpopular enough to inspire fear and hatred from the other students – emotions they'd also have to adjust to, Harry thought.

Some part of him knew he was being perhaps too clinical about the matter, but he told himself not to worry. This, after all, was what was needed. The DA was his responsibility, and at the very least, he'd have them prepared for what was to come.

xxx

Draco had left the castle some time after lunch, and wandered slowly down towards the little hut at the edge of the forest, careful to make sure no one saw him. He hadn't thought his ego could take another blow like that.

Now, he sat stiffly in one of Lupin's armchairs, deeming it more appropriate than the rug this time. He'd impatiently refused the offers of tea and biscuits – was still refusing them, as the older man renewed his offer every time the silence lasted too long. He didn't want to be here. Merlin, he'd gladly get up and walk out right now if it wasn't for the lingering threat of losing his mind. It was that lack of control which scared him more than anything; the thought that he could be changed and ruled by the creature in him even when it wasn't a full moon.