A/n: I want to thank everyone who has faved, followed and reviewed this story. I hope that I was able to respond to everyone's review and if I haven't it's not personal, I simply must've accidentally overlooked your review!

Special thanks to dinadan256 for agreeing to be beta for this story. Hopefully I can keep the story moving and the characters developing with your much needed help! :)

Prompt: Prolific Romance Novelist (#18)

Chapter 4

"When do you think is Blaise going to stop sulking?" Daphne asked later that night, as both girls sat on Tracey's bed with the curtains drawn.

Tracey didn't look up from her task of painting her nails black, her hair tied up in a haphazard ponytail to keep it from falling in her face as she tried to keep her hand steady.

"As soon as he gets bored of hanging around Draco and the buffoons, which will probably be before lunch time tomorrow," Tracey replied, unconcerned that Pansy may overhear them because she had cast a silencing spell around her bed. "What are you reading?"

Daphne looked down in the book in her hands. "Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen."

Tracey looked up and raised a brow at her friend. A teasing smile started to spread on her lips. Since she, Daphne and Blaise made the Muggle Literature section of the library their very own secret space, they'd been in the habit of each reading a new muggle book every month or so, when it wouldn't interfere with their school work.

They found, as unlikely as it may seem in three Slytherins, that they all appreciated muggle fiction far more than wizard fiction. And the secret bound them tighter than anything else, because anything that seemed like muggle-sympathy in Slytherin House, was not to be borne.

"You are totally Jane Bennet. Beautiful, caring, sweet, responsible and determined to see the good in the world," Tracey teased lightly.

Daphne smiled painfully, thinking perhaps she had been once. But no matter how cynical the world seemed to try to twist her, the romantic inside her refused to die, even if she already felt broken.

"I don't know about that. I am quite determined that 'nothing but the deepest love could ever induce me into matrimony', to quote Elizabeth. Which is why I'm afraid, I'm going to greatly disappoint my parents because I will probably never marry," Daphne replied with a frown.

It wasn't easy being the eldest daughter of a middle class, pureblood family intent on reaching it's former glory and wealth. Daphne was grounded, and she knew that unless she married well, the prospects of her family would be dire. But she rather doubted that she'd able to find true love with a wealthy pureblood... purebloods were already in short supply and the kind of love she dreamed of didn't simply happen every day and she couldn't stand the thought of a loveless marriage.

"That's great Daph... now me, you and Blaise can all buy a place and grow old and be crotchety old maids together, since none of us can see marriage in our futures," Tracey replied in mock excitement, trying to keep the atmosphere light and not bring up unpleasant topics that she knew Daphne found difficult acknowledging.

Daphne frowned at Tracey, before shaking her head. She wanted to tell the pretty, red-head girl that simply because her parents' marriage had failed so catastrophically, did not mean that all marriages ended that way. But she decided against it. Tracey was in denial about her commitment issues, and she knew it would be useless to bring them up.

Daphne just hoped that one day Tracey was caught off guard by a love so great, she wouldn't be able to run from it the way she ran away from every relationship that started to get serious in any romantic way.

"So I take it you've read Pride and Prejudice?" Daphne asked, to which Tracey nodded while shaking her hands to try to dry her nail polish faster, wondering why she hadn't had the forethought to leave her wand out in the open to spell them dry.

"In our second year. While all you twits were sighing away after Lockhart, I was picturing myself as Lizzie and Professor Snape as my Mr. Darcy," Tracey replied with an impish grin. And Daphne couldn't help the loud, uncontrolled giggle that burst from her lips which she was quick to hide behind her hand.

"Professor Snape? Really? I didn't know you fancied him!" Daphne stated, once she was somewhat in control of her giggle fit.

"It was a crush, and I'm mostly over it. And Millie's completely to blame!" Tracey said in defense, though still grinning. "Do you remember when she said that night, that Snape was more attractive than Lockhart? Well, I started wondering 'what does she see in him' and what do you know, I totally got it! He's tall, dark and maybe not the definition of handsome, but you got to admit he's got talent. And the man exudes power, that's just dead sexy. And his voice! He's got a voice that can make panties wetter than the Black Lake."

"Tracey! You dirty wench! We were twelve!" Daphne cried, scandalized but amused.

"I wasn't creaming my panties for him then!"

"So you do now?" Daphne asked, raising a brow, before wrinkling her nose. "Never mind, I don't need to know."

"Well too bad, because I'm going to tell you anyway! And the answer is... YES!"

Daphne burst into giggles once more, not sure whether or not she could really take Tracey seriously.

"I swear, you have a thing for men who are... less than good-looking," Daphne stated, trying to put it delicately. Tracey raised a brow questioningly. "Well you've always fancied Theodore... and now you mention having liked Snape.. and you're extremely flirty with Terry Boot!"

Tracey furrowed her brow slightly before shrugging. She'd never compared the three men and as far as she was concerned, their similarities started and ending with them all being very intelligent and tall.

"I don't fancy Terry. He's just really nice, and I kind of love that he's so tall and... I feel like by flirting with him maybe other girls will see more to him than his looks! And Teddy," Tracey sighed thinking of the reclusive, brilliant, Slytherin boy. "He's really sweet, once you get to know him."

Daphne gave Tracey a look that was equivalent to shrugging. "He won't talk to anyone but you, so I'll just take your word for it."

Tracey shrugged her shoulders, though her stomach was in knots, thinking about Theodore Nott now. Her heart ached with longing for the tall, plain and slender boy. She wasn't sure why, but since first year, her heart had always gone out to the boy, and she made it her mission to become friends with him.

It wasn't that Theodore was hateful, or arrogant or even shy. He just preferred to be alone and not talk to people. But he was perfectly polite, and a gentleman. And Tracey didn't know how or when it happened, but she loved that boy. And she had a feeling that if she let herself, she'd fall in love with the boy hopelessly. Which was probably why she'd never pursued anything more than a friendship with the boy who had more interest in books than people. She was terrified of falling in love like that.

"What do you think of Harry Potter now that you've actually been introduced and even spoken?" Daphne asked, trying to distract her friend from thoughts of Theodore. As her best friend, Daphne knew Tracey had strong feelings for Theodore and she didn't really like it. She found Theodore to be intense and somewhat creepy.

"I have yet to see anything really special about him, apart from the fact that he's a great flyer," Tracey replied in deadpan. "I can't see how he has faced the Dark Lord and survived. I guess it's too early for me to form my opinion."

xXx

"Her dad can't be an Auror," Ron refuted, as if there was no question in his mind about it as he and the others started to get ready for bed in their dorm.

"Your dad works at the Ministry, can't you write him and ask?" Neville suggested from where he knelt at his trunk looking for something or other.

"I think we'd need his first name for that, Neville. Davis isn't an uncommon surname, there may be more than one," Harry replied before looking at Ron. "Although, we could still try."

"What's the point? It's got to be a lie," Ron shot back stubbornly where he was now laying back on his bed. Harry sighed, not wanting to get into an argument, but knowing that Ron was being incredibly thick about this. Perhaps he should write the letter himself, he thought and ask Sirius to ask Tonks or Kingsley.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Seamus piped up in his Irish lilt. "Daphne Greengrass is hot! Have you seen the tits on her? Those are really nice, really full. And Davis isn't so bad either. She has a really nice can. She's probably easy too, did you see the way she was flirting all night with Boot? And I've heard she's dated like five blokes at least."

Harry frowned, but didn't say anything to this. As a teenage boy, he'd of course noticed that physically speaking, both girls were exceedingly good looking. But he'd never been the type to speak so openly and crudely about such things.

"You know, Daphne Greengrass is really good at Herbology. I've seen her in the Greenhouses a few times, also helping Professor Sprout. And she was actually nice," Neville stated, finally emerging from his trunk with what he was looking for, which seemed to be some pruning shears.

"Daphne Greengras nice?" Dean Thomas asked doubtfully. "The Ice Queen?"

"When have you ever even talked to a girl?" Seamus mocked, causing Neville to turn slightly red. Harry and Ron both turned to look at Neville with both doubt and expectation.

"Well... we didn't exactly t-talk," Neville stuttered, looking down for a moment. He didn't really know how to explain the encounters he had with Slytherin's resident Beauty Queen and the reputed frigid-witch. Usually their encounters revolved around Daphne asking for his help with something in the Greenhouses, her tone usually polite, quiet and... kind. And when she looked at him, it wasn't with scorn, disgust or pity like most girls. It was with a soft, patient look that even Hermione didn't quite manage.

"She's obviously being fake. They're all fake," Ron stated as he crossed his arms behind his head in cavalier tones. "All Slytherin girls are poisonous, gold-digging snakes."

Harry stared momentarily at Ron, wondering with a frown if that's the way he sounded when he spoke about Slytherins. He rather hoped not, because Ron really sounded like a prat. But even so, he couldn't shake his own suspicions about Slytherins in general. They weren't really good people, were they?

Nothing in his experience thus far with them gave him have any confidence about them in general. Snape, the three Malfoys, they were all prejudiced, arrogant, gits. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode were just petty and mean, and their outward appearance seemed to reflect the ugliness within. And then there were Crabbe and Goyle, who were almost too stupid to function, but were mean like Dudley.

Briefly, he wondered if Dudley had been a wizard, if he would have gone into Slytherin in spite of being muggle-born. He certainly seemed to fit the bill of his Slytherin classmates in general; big, stupid and mean.

Although, he supposed that Zabini, Greengrass and Davis didn't exactly fit that description. Nor did Theodore Nott, if he thought about it. They were all thin and didn't often say much aloud, if he thought over the last four years of school and they definitely weren't ugly.

However, Davis was still snarky, even if she delivered her barbs teasingly. And Zabini was a haughty brat that had that Slytherin Superiority Complex written all over his demeanor. And Daphne Greengrass, she certainly looked like a Princess, and though she didn't quite behave like Narcissa Malfoy, her behavior wasn't much different.

Climbing into his own bed and pulling the curtains around it, Harry lay back in thought about the conundrum that was Tracey Davis.

She was... tiny. She was shorter than he was, and had a slender build. All her features were proportionate, he supposed, but there was something about her tininess that made her seem almost harmless.

But in spite of her small stature, she clearly had a big personality. She was out-spoken, which he didn't expect because according to Hermione, she was always quiet in public. And he didn't know how a girl so small, who was invisible to him for the last four years, could be the leader of two cold, and conceited Slytherins while she herself seemed down-to-earth.

Unfortunately, as much as Harry tried to figure out the conundrum of the Slytherin girl with a supposed Auror father, he simply didn't have enough information. From what little he'd seen of her during the DA meeting, it didn't look to him like she was taking the exercise seriously at all.

The only classes he had with the Slytherins were Potions and Care of Magical Creatures and he was certain that neither Tracey or Daphne were in Care of Magical Creatures. He resolved to pay more attention to her during the meetings, as difficult as that might be with his crush on Cho and directing everyone else in the group.

As he started drifting off to sleep, his thoughts vaguely lingering on Slytherins and his perception that they weren't really good people, he was startled awake by a small voice in his head, reminding him that he'd almost been sorted into Slytherin, so what does that mean about you?

Harry blinked his bleary eyes wide open, heart beginning to pound. Was he a bad person? Harry wondered to himself, struggling once more with his sense of identity. His stomach further knotted when he thought of the way he'd been treating his friends, right up to the meeting in the Hog's Head and how he was so angry, all the time. He was further discomfited if he thought of the similarities between himself and Voldemort.

The thought that he'd pulled the sword of Gryffindor out of the sorting hat, not longer felt like any solace to him. Even if, according to Dumbledore, only a true Gryffindor could have pulled the sword from the hat.

And he wondered again. Did being Slytherin, really mean you were a bad person? Was that what Dumbledore meant to imply? And was he really a good person, simply because he'd chosen Gryffindor?

xXx

On Saturday, Harry woke up early to head to the Owlery to send a letter to Sirius, asking him if he'd ask Kingsley and Tonks about Aurors with the last name Davis. He was startled when he came to the entrance to the tower and ran into Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass.

"Hello Harry," Tracey greeted quietly, after casting a look about, as if making sure that no one was around.

"Umm... Hi," Harry replied awkwardly as he tensed, trying not to be rude, but finding it awkward to speak to a girl he'd barely ever spoken to before and nodding his head to Daphne Greengrass who merely eyed him cooly and impassively. He too shot a furtive look around, as if expecting a full on Slytherin ambush any moment.

"I see you've got post," Tracey observed conversationally, causing Harry to jerk slightly, as if he'd wanted to hide his letter but thought better of it. Tracey tried not to furrow her brow at the strange action. What does he expect me to just rip it right out of his hand? Tracey wondered absurdly. "So are you going up?" Tracey asked with a raised brow, as the three of them were loitering rather stupidly at the base of the stairs.

"Ladies first," Harry said, motioning for them to head up ahead of him.

Tracey and Daphne exchanged a look, both of them wondering if Harry was being gentlemen, or was too paranoid to turn his back to two Slytherin girls. Tracey couldn't help smirking as Daphne moved ahead of her to take the stairs.

"What a gentleman," Tracey couldn't help teasing Harry, fascinated with the way his cheeks flushed pink as she stepped past him to mount the stairs after Daphne.

Is she flirting with me? Harry wondered, somewhat bewildered as he paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking after the red-head with his brows furrowed. But he put it out of his mind as impossible and proceeded to take the stairs, screwing up his Gryffindor courage to do so. Besides, he thought to himself, it was a good opportunity to study the Slytherin girls.

But those thoughts flew out of his head when he caught up with them on the spiraling staircase and found himself staring at Tracey's back as she climbed the stairs. For a moment, he was mesmerized watching the sway of her hips, and thinking that he agreed with Seamus on Tracey's assets being very nice.

"Should I be flattered or offended?" a girly, voice pulled him from his thoughts. Looking up, he saw Tracey Davis smirking at him over her shoulder and he flushed hotly as he realized he'd been caught staring. "I'll forgive you this time, but next time I'll have to punish you," she said with a wink and smirk before turning around and chucking quietly to herself.

"What was that about?" Daphne questioned as they reached the landing and proceeded into the owlery and Tracey was once more able to walk beside her. Tracey merely shook her head and made a motion that she'd tell her later as Daphne called to her owl.

"So... who are you writing to?" Harry scrounged up the courage to ask, causing both girls to shoot him almost identical looks as they both raised their left brows in surprise.

However, Harry wasn't looking at them and instead petting Hedwig who'd flown down to perch on his arm, his embarrassment still too fresh in his mind. But he was determined to get something out of this coincidental run-in.

"Well Daphne's letting me use her owl, so I can send a letter to my father," Tracey replied, walking over to Harry as Daphne's owl didn't particularly like her and wouldn't approach the blonde girl if Tracey was near to her. She felt more at ease to talk to the boy then when they were being watched by the entire DA. "And yourself?"

Harry looked up, startled by Tracey's proximity. He hadn't expected the girl to walk over to him, but he found that she was looking at Hedwig instead of him.

"Is your dad really an Auror?" Harry asked, not answering her question cause he wasn't sure how to respond.

"Yes, he is. Why do you ask?" Tracey replied, her brows knitting together momentarily in slight confusion though she noted that he'd refrained from answering her last question.

"Umm... well... because I want to be an Auror and it's... interesting," he floundered, sure that admitting his real motive for asking would be a terrible move on his part. Although, his answer was true enough. Belatedly, he regretted admitting that as he waited to hear her poke fun of him.

"You want to be an Auror? Really?" Tracey asked, in a tone that sounded mildly incredulous as she turned to look at him. His delivery made her somewhat doubtful of the veracity of his statement, and she found it slightly strange.

"Yeaaaaah," Harry said, frowning now, wondering why it was so strange to her or what she was driving at.

"Oh... that's surprising," Tracey replied, turning back to looking at the white snow-owl perched on his arm, her tone detached.

"Why?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Well, if I were you, I would be tired of fighting. I'd probably just want to live my life in peace," Tracey said with a shrug of her shoulders, her tone mild and contemplative. Harry furrowed his brow, never having really thought of it that way.

"You've never considered being an Auror? Even with your dad being one and you being so great at Defense?" Harry asked slightly defensively and his tone turning somewhat ironic towards the end of his statement. Though not so much as to earn himself a glance from the girl who was so fascinated by his owl.

"Me?" Tracey scoffed, smiling mysteriously and reaching out to pet Hedwig tentatively and gently. "Oh, I'm going to be a prolific romance novelist."

Harry stared at Tracey blankly, though he was somewhat surprised at her gall to pet Hedwig, and surprised that Hedwig was actually leaning into her touch.

As the silence remained, Tracey turned to look at Harry and giggled at his expression as she pulled back her hand. "That was a joke. I'm not really sure what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. Just because I'm exceptional at Defense, doesn't mean I want to follow in my father's footsteps."

"You don't seem to like Defense very much," Harry commented with a frown, even more puzzled now.

Tracey shrugged her shoulders lightly. "I like Defense just fine."

Her statement lingered in the air like a noose. Her words seem to just suddenly stop as the statement dropped, and he couldn't help feeling that something was left unsaid. Something that would be revealing more than she was comfortable with and made his curiosity suddenly ignite powerfully. But before he could say anything, a pale hand tapped Tracey's shoulder.

Tracey briefly turned and nodded at Daphne who was apparently done mailing off her letter. Tracey nodded her head before turning back to Harry and locking her eyes with his and offering him a small and friendly smile.

"Well, it was nice talking to you. You have a very beautiful owl," she said in parting, before turning on her heel and leaving with her blonde friend. Harry thought he caught the faint scent of something sweet but difficult for him to place, where her hair had breezed through the air.

Harry stared, still not any closer to figuring out what the Slytherins may be up to.

Turning to Hedwig when he was sure the girls were out of earshot he asked, "Think she's a good one?"

In response, Hedwig hooted.

TBC...

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