I do not own Harry Potter.
A/N: This is for Season IV of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Round 07.
Team & Position: Caerphilly Catapults, Chaser 1.
Base Prompt: HMS Golden Ice.
Optional Prompt: #04 (poem) 'A Late Walk' by Robert Frost.
Optional Prompt: #05 (word) brush.
Optional Prompt: #15 (word) scarf.
Harry tightened his red and gold scarf around his neck to ward off the chill from the mid-November air. The whispers that had been following him around for the last couple of weeks were slowly driving him mental; not to mention those stupid badges made by Malfoy. While the phrase 'Potter Stinks' was by no means clever, seeing the message all around him was…unpleasant.
The only bright spot in the storm of darkness surrounding him was his upcoming talk with Sirius. In another week, he would finally have another friendly face to talk to. Hermione had been great, but she had different classes and more schoolwork to do. She tried to make time for him, but Harry could tell that the whispers following him around were also starting to get to her. While she would no doubt continue to show a brave face, spending some time doing their own things was necessary.
That was why Harry was walking outside, on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, lost in his own thoughts.
The sun was just above the treeline, casting long shadows along the grass. While it had not yet snowed, the chill air seemed to promise that flurries would begin in the near future; frost could already be found on the grounds every morning. Harry hoped that the weather would wait until after the first task before it turned, but this was Scotland—he would need to be ready for anything.
Finally reaching Black Lake, Harry sat beneath a tree, pulling his cloak and scarf tight around him once more. He leaned back with a sigh. Looking up at the bare branches above, he just sat for a time, stuck in his thoughts.
It was a few minutes before he caught sight of a single dead leaf still hanging from the tree. All of its friends had abandoned it, weeks ago, for the ground below. As if disturbed by Harry's thoughts, the last leaf detached from the tree and fell silently to the ground, meandering back and forth before settling near a blue flower.
Absent-mindedly, Harry plucked the flower and started twirling it between his fingers. His eyes tracked the spinning petals as he attempted to think of nothing at all.
The sound of feet crunching through the fallen leaves in the forest broke Harry from his reverie. Looking toward the sound, Harry caught sight of blond hair. He wondered if it was the short Ravenclaw girl that he sometimes saw near the edge of the forest when he was out on his walks.
When the figure came into view, Harry grimaced. It was not the Ravenclaw girl, but a Slytherin from Harry's year.
"Greengrass."
A brief widening of her eyes was the only indication of her surprise. The stoic face she normally wore quickly reasserted itself before she turned toward Harry and said, "Potter."
This was the last thing that he needed. He had come out here to be alone with his thoughts, and now, of everyone, a snake had wandered next to him.
"What are you doing here, Greengrass? Come to poke fun at me?"
She arched an eyebrow at him, staring with her blue-grey eyes. Harry held her stare, not wanting to give the girl any satisfaction in winning even a small contest. After a few seconds, she said, "I imagine the same as you, Potter. I'm out for a walk."
"Well then, don't let me stop you." He made a wide motion with his arm, gesturing to the field near the shore. "Keep on walking," he said, using the momentum from the gesture to turn back around and look out at the lake.
Harry could feel Greengrass' eyes burrowing into the back of his head. He was just about to turn around and snap at her when he finally heard her start moving again. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree.
The sound and feeling of someone sitting next to him caused him to jerk away as he snapped his eyes open. The Slytherin girl had sat beneath the tree next to him.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked with a yelp.
Greengrass turned her head and once more arched her brow. Harry could immediately identify the look she was giving him—she thought he was an idiot. "Sitting."
"Go sit somewhere else, then," Harry said with all the indignation he could muster.
"I like this spot. This is the closest tree to the lake," she said.
"I was here first," he retorted.
"And a hippogriff has an average flight speed of 22 meters per second."
Harry looked at the girl in confusion. "What?"
"Oh, were we not just spouting random facts?" she asked, a tone of curiosity lacing her voice.
Harry stared for a moment before his face began to get hot: she was making fun of him. "So that's how it is?" Greengrass' face was passive as she watched Harry. "Thought it would be fun to make fun of me so you could tell Malfoy all about it, huh?"
He had pulled out his wand, getting ready to curse the snake. However, as he was bringing it to bear, a look on her face caused him to stay his hand. A very brief grimace had crossed her face when he had mentioned Malfoy's name. As quick as it had appeared, it had gone again. It was an expression that Harry was intimately familiar with: he saw it nearly every day on the faces of his relatives.
Harry took the chance to really look at Daphne Greengrass. She was good looking, with pale blond hair, parted to the right, and aristocratic features lending to an air of superiority. Her school robes were, of course, trimmed in Slytherin green, but she wore no accoutrements beyond those required for the uniform. Most tellingly, she was not wearing one of the accursed 'Potter Stinks' badges.
With her apparent disgust towards Malfoy and the absence of a badge, Harry decided to give the girl a chance.
As he put his wand away, he caught a glimpse of Greengrass relaxing slightly, releasing some of the tension in her shoulders. "Sorry about that," Harry said, "I've been a bit on edge with the tournament."
The two sat in companionable silence staring out at the lake while the shadows lengthened. While not as peaceful as sitting by himself—he felt the need to keep an eye on the Slytherin girl from the corner of his eye—just sitting with someone was nice. Finally, as it was getting close to dark, Harry stood and brushed himself off.
"Have a pleasant evening, Greengrass," Harry said.
"You as well, Potter."
Harry turned to leave. Before taking a step, he noticed that he still held the blue flower in his hand. He twirled it once between his fingers before he turned back to the Slytherin girl. He knelt on a knee beside her and held out the flower. "For you, Miss Greengrass."
She turned her eyes from the lake, settling the full weight of her gaze on Harry. He held still while waiting for her response. After a few seconds, and before the moment became too awkward, she took the flower from him.
"You know nothing about flowers, do you, Potter?"
"Can't say that I do. But you looked like you might like it," Harry said getting back to his feet. "Thanks for sitting with me. The experience was…pleasant. It's nice to see that not all Slytherins are like Malfoy." Harry watched for another reaction from the girl, but this time there wasn't one. "Once again, have a good evening, Greengrass."
"Thank you for the company, Potter," she said before looking back out at the lake to watch the last remnants of sunlight fade.
Harry turned away and walked back to the front gates, in a much better mood than when he had started.