Magic | Lily Potter x Draco Malfoy

18 | The Meeting in the Hog's Head

LILY 

I made it to the Hog's Head just in time for the meeting. I'm sitting up at the front of the room in between Harry and Hermione, and Ron is on Harry's other side. We're facing about twenty kids; Fred, George, Ginny, Neville, Luna, the Patil twins, Dean, Angelina, and Cho Chang among them. 

"Um . . . hi," Hermione's nervous voice fills the silence in the room in the Hog's Head. "So . . . you all know why we're here . . ." 

Not all of us, I think. I'm slightly offended that Hermione would give everyone else at least some of the details and keep me in the dark. 

"We need a teacher," Hermione continues, "a proper  teacher. One who's had real experience defending themselves." 

Hermione barely finishes her sentence before some Ravenclaw boy, apparently named Zacharius Smith, says, "Why?"  

"Why?" Ron echoes from his seat next to Harry at the front of the room. "Because You-Know-Who's back, you tosspot." 

Well done, Ron, I think, smirking. Sometimes Ron can be really thick, but he does possess the ability to make others look like idiots. That is, if nobody else makes him look like an idiot first. 

"So he  says," says Smith, nodding at Harry. 

"So Dumbledore says," Hermione corrects. 

"So Dumbledore says because he says," Smith repeats. "The point is, where's the proof?" 

Harry looks sideways at me and then back at the dusty floor warily, uncomfortable with the situation. We all know that Harry himself is living proof. And so am I. 

"Maybe if Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed . . ." Michael Corner, Ginny's boyfriend, says. 

Ever since Hermione told Ginny to loosen up around Harry, Ginny started going out with Michael. Except she doesn't actually like him that  much. I never really understood why she started dating him. 

Harry finally stands up and I pat his arm to encourage him. Why that is encouraging, I don't know. It just feels right. 

"Look, I'm not going to talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're here you might as well clear out now," Harry says. Nobody moves. Harry mutters to Hermione, "Come on, Hermione, let's go, they're just here because they think I'm some sort of freak." 

He starts towards the door at the back of the room. "Harry, wait!" Hermione whispers angrily. 

"Is it true you can produce a Patronus charm?" Luna Lovegood's dreamy voice wavers from the middle of the room. Everyone turns to look at her, having not expected her to speak. 

Harry's gaze flickers between Luna and the rest of the people in the meeting room, not quite sure whether to tell the truth or let the others answer Luna's question. 

"Yes," I say, standing up. Harry's always been too modest in my opinion. Also, my ― what would you call it? ― encounter with Draco has lifted my spirits, giving me some extra confidence. "I've seen it." It's true. 

"Blimey, Harry," Dean (the boy who substituted me) says in awe. "I didn't know you could do that." 

"A―and he killed a Basilisk," Neville speaks up, "with the sword in Dumbledore's office." 

"It's true," Ginny confirms. If anyone knows anything about that year, it's her. She was ― not exactly possessed ― but controlled against her will by the memory of Tom Riddle in Voldemort's diary. He would've killed her if it wasn't for Harry. 

"In third year he fought about a hundred dementors at once," Ron says, looking at Harry with pride. 

"And last year he really did fight off You-Know-Who in the flesh," I say confidently. I was there. I helped Harry bring Cedric back through the portkey. 

"Alright," Harry says. "Look, it all sounds great when you say it like that, but . . . the truth is, most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I nearly always had help ―" 

"He's just being modest," Hermione interjects. My thoughts exactly. 

"No, Hermione, I'm not," Harry says, a twinge of embarrassment and annoyance in his voice. "Facing this stuff, in real life, is not like school. In school, if you make a mistake, you can just try again tomorrow. But . . . out there, when you're a second away from being murdered, or watching a friend die right before your eyes . . . you don't know what that's like." 

Harry sits back down, probably thinking he's said enough. 

"You're right, Harry, we don't," Hermione says, sitting down too. I do the same. "That's why we need your help. Because if we're going to have any chance of beating . . ." she takes a deep breath, "Voldemort . . ." 

She doesn't need to finish her sentence. Everyone understands. 

"He's really back," a Gryffindor second-year named Nigel asks, but it's more of a statement. 

Harry looks up and gives a small nod, his face deadly serious. I can see the pain and guilt of his worst memories in his eyes. 

There's silence and everyone looks at each other for a long moment. Then they start looking confident and I know we've convinced them. 

At first I wasn't even sure why we were here. Now I'm ready to help Harry teach the next generation of witches and wizards.