A/N: Yes, Harry and Daphne will eventually be one of the main pairings in this story…
A Chance Encounter
By Spectre4hire
Chapter Twenty: Awakened
"They're clobbering us!"
All Harry could do was nod at Neville's assessment. He, Neville, and Theodore were huddled together behind their makeshift snow fort. The six friends were enjoying the sunshine and the blanket of snow along the grounds at Greengrass Manor.
The three boys were currently pinned down by the three girls. The six friends had started off sledding down one of the steeper hills on the grounds. That had then turned into a free-for-all snowball fight, and soon after sides had been drawn between the three boys against the three girls. A fierce snowball battle ensued that quickly turned against the boys forcing them to surrender ground, and to retreat to their current improvised V shaped snow fort. It had been hastily built, the top and sides of the walls were uneven, as they added a layer of fallen branches to use as extra cover.
"Do you see them?" asked Neville, the chubby Gryffindor breathing a bit heavily as he leaned against one of the two walls that made up the fort.
Harry risked a quick glance over, scanning the flat area around him; he could see no sign of Daphne, Tracey, or Hermione. That wasn't good...
"Great," muttered Theo, who was in a crouching position, cupping another handful of snow into a nicely formed snowball before adding it to his growing pile. He picked up one of his snowballs and carefully peered out over their fort.
The next thing Harry heard was a wet slap followed by a grunt, before seeing Theo fall onto his back. His face half covered in snow from a well aimed snowball. Still lying on his back he groaned.
"Theo, are you okay?" Neville asked, scurrying over to their fallen friend.
"That…Hurt," Theo rasped, the left side of his face reddening from where the snowball had pelted him, with pieces of snow and frost sprinkled on top of the growing bruise.
Before Harry could ask if he needed to go inside a sudden flurry of snowballs began pelting the walls of their makeshift fortress. He instinctively went to the wall seeking protection from the wintery bombardment as did Neville, leaving their still fallen and groaning friend where he lay.
"Maybe we should surrender?" Neville whimpered.
"No, we can't," Theo argued stubbornly. "We'll never hear the end of it."
"Then what should we do?" Neville asked.
Theo propped himself up by his elbows, using his gloved hand to wipe away the remaining remnants of ice and frost from his face, and with his other he picked up the snowball he had lost when he had gotten hit. "We retaliate." And without another word he hurled the snowball without looking over the wall and into the general vicinity of where he thought the girls' attack was coming from.
Taking his friend's cue, Harry scooped up a nearby snowball and tossed it over, and Neville quickly followed suit, as the three boys tried to stave off the girls' advancement. They emptied their stockpile of snowballs, but it seemed their desperate defensive strategy was working since the girls' bombardment quickly petered out. When Neville tossed the last snowball over they heard a clear female shout signaling he had hit someone, and then there was silence.
None of the boys knew which one of the girls they hit, and none of them wanted to look over to find out, especially since Theo had gotten hit the last time he looked over. The silence stretched on with no indication if their friend who they hit was alright.
Neville blanched when he had realized he had actually hit someone. "What did I do?"
"It's nothing," Theo reassured him.
Harry not liking the silence anymore than Neville did, hastily constructed a snowball, and peered over the wall ignoring Theo's protest. What he saw made his stomach twist in knots, there lying no more than ten feet from their fort sprawled out on the snowy ground was an unmoving Hermione.
He gulped, "She's not moving."
"What?"
"Who?"
"Hermione," answered Harry, scurrying to his feet. His protective streak in wanting to help his friend overruled his more cautious voice telling him to remain within the relative safety parameters of their fort. He slipped out from behind his cover making his way over to his friend. "Hermione!"
She didn't respond, nor did she stir from her spot on the ground.
"Harry!" Theodore hissed from behind him. "Get back here!"
He ignored him, closing the distance to the still unmoving Hermione in a few seconds. He heard the crunching footsteps of Neville and Theodore signaling they had followed him out. He fell on his knees at her side, but she still didn't respond.
"Is she okay?" asked an increasingly timid Neville.
Hermione suddenly opened her eyes, her lips curving into a smile and before Harry could so much as open his mouth, he felt the impact of a snowball hitting his back. He quickly spun around in time to see a second snowball hit him squarely in the chest, landing on his butt. Theodore and Neville received similar attacks, neither of them lasting as long as they too both hit the ground.
In an instant Harry realized they had been duped. All he could do was mentally chastise himself for falling for one the most simple ploys in combat. It didn't get any better when he could hear the laughter of Tracey and Daphne as they emerged from their concealed positions. The two girls had made use of their white coats to help them blend in with the snowy background.
Hermione jumped to her feet offering Harry a slight sympathetic look when their eyes met, but it was overshadowed by her own growing smile, before offering him a shrug.
"What just happened?" Theo groaned.
"We beat ya," replied Tracey.
Harry could hear the smile in her voice, looking to see Daphne and Tracey stopping a few feet in front of them, both girls looking triumphant as they were joined by Hermione, who was congratulated by both girls for the part she played in the deception.
"We knew you boys wouldn't miss a chance to show off your chivalry," Daphne was saying, sounding to be enjoying every moment of their victory.
"You make it sound like it's a bad thing," Neville observed, rubbing the back of his head where frost and snow was clinging to his brown hair, showing where he had gotten hit by one of the girls' snowballs.
"No," Daphne answered still smiling, "Just predicable."
"How did this happen?" grumbled Theo, still not wanting to believe they had just lost.
"We outsmarted you," Daphne gesturing to herself, Tracey, and Hermione. "Don't act surprised, you should've known you guys didn't have a chance."
"And why is that?" Theo challenged.
"Because we're smarter, and better than you," Daphne answered casually, "girls always are."
Harry rolled his eyes. He knew their loss was costly not just to their pride, but to the fact that the girls had earned the 'bragging rights,' and Harry had a feeling that they weren't going to let up or allow him and the guys to forget anytime soon.
"You just had to play hero, Harry," Theodore said, his smile and his amused tone belaying his words.
He offered his fellow Slytherin a shrug, "It's just my inner-Gryffindor."
Theodore snorted, "Blindly running into the action, ignoring the consequences," he paused, before nodding his head. "Yeah, that sounds like a Gryffindor alright."
After the girls' declared themselves the victors of the snowball fight, the six friends had decided they'd had enough of the cold weather. After changing out of their wet clothes, Blinky had surprised them by presenting them with fresh homemade fudge and warm hot cocoa. After a round of 'thank yous' and praised showered on the Greengrass house elf, they settled in Harry's room taking full advantage of the warm bustling fire in the fireplace. The six of them would be spending the night at Greengrass Manor tonight, before heading over to the Grangers the next morning where they'd spend the day and the following night there.
"Did anyone start on their Transfiguration essay?" Hermione asked, receiving collective groans from her friends. The Gryffindor looked sheepish, but pressed on. "I'm only asking, because I had a question about Professor McGonagall's instructions."
"Is that how you spent your Christmas?" Daphne teased, who was sitting between Hermione and Tracey. "Working on homework?"
Hermione had the good sense to smile, "No, I had a great Christmas, actually."
"Is it because you finished the Potions assignment?" Tracey added to the playful ribbing.
"If we're on the topic of homework," Theodore began.
"We're not," protested Daphne, "only you and Hermione are."
Before the topic could be continued by Theodore or Hermione or completely suppressed by the others, Roxanne Greengrass appeared in the doorway. "There you all are."
"Is something up, Mum?"
"Actually there is," her mother answered vaguely, "I was wondering if you six would be so kind as to join me in the ball room."
"The ball room?" repeated a confused Daphne, making a face. "But we never-"
"I know," Roxanne said, "I'll see you there in a few minutes."
Harry was sure he saw a faint smile on the Greengrass matriarch's lips before she left. He turned to Daphne hoping she'd have some sort of explanation. "What was that about?"
"I have no clue," Daphne answered, her blue eyes on the spot where her mother had just been standing.
"We're not in trouble are we?" Neville asked.
"No," Daphne dismissed before she stood up.
"I didn't know you had a ball room," Hermione said.
"We don't really use it," Daphne answered, waving her had lazily when she added. "We only really use it when the family hosts a party with lots of guests."
Harry finished off his hot chocolate before begrudgingly removing himself from his cozy position by the fireplace. "There's only one way to find out what this is about." He looked to see the others were ready to go so leaving their mugs behind, the six friends left Harry's room conversing as they followed Daphne's lead to the ball room all of them wondering what Mrs. Greengrass had in mind.
"Ahh, good you're all here," greeted a smiling Mrs. Greengrass as the friends filed into the ball room. Harry hadn't really remembered visiting this room during the tour Daphne, Tracey, and Astoria had given him last Christmas Holiday.
Looking around the immaculate room he was sure he would've remembered; from the large size of the room, knowing Daphne wasn't exaggerating when she said the room held large quantity of guests during parties. Plenty of light shimmered into the cavernous room due to the tall windows along the side wall, while a large chandelier hung above their heads holding hundreds if not a thousand candles. Antique furniture lined up against the wall with beautifully crafted ornate tables in appropriate intervals to allow guests somewhere to put their food and drinks during a party. The room was impressive down to the polished hardwood floors that didn't even release a single creak as the six friends shuffled around the room.
In the corner resting on top of a small stand was what looked to be a wireless, and Harry was sure he could hear classical music coming from its speakers. That was also where Mrs. Greengrass was, standing beside the wireless, one hand resting on top of it, as her smile grew when her eyes met the six friends.
"With all of you here today I thought it would be a good idea to start one of your lessons, Harry," She explained.
Ever since Harry had officially become a ward to the Greengrass family, Roxanne and Cyrus had been teaching him vital lessons about the wizarding world. Cyrus focusing on the business and politics, while Roxanne had been teaching Harry the appropriate social customs that were to be expected from him as he grew up. But in all of his lessons he had over the summer he had never needed anyone else to be there with him or to help him.
"Mum?" asked a suspicious Daphne.
Roxanne tapped the wireless her hand was resting on, "today's lesson will be an introduction into dancing."
Harry groaned, and he wasn't alone, hearing similar responses from Neville and Theodore.
"Formal events are a common practice within our society," Roxanne explained, seemingly ignoring the boys' response to her lesson. "These events include the various charity balls that either the Ministry or the more prestigious families will host throughout the year."
She walked out towards them, her heels clicking against the floors. "It is expected of all wizards and witches to be well rehearsed in the art of dancing for these social functions." She rested a hand on her chin as her brown eyes swept over them. "Now, let's split you up into pairs." She made her way over to Hermione, the Gryffindor's reaction to the dancing seemed mixed- Looking hesitant, but also excited.
"Let's have you dance with Mr. Longbottom," Roxanne suggested.
While Hermione's reaction to dancing had been mixed, Neville's was not. The pudgy Gryffindor looked petrified at the thought of having to dance, stammering out an, "o-okay," to signal that he understood the Greengrass Matriarch, but he made no attempt to move closer to his dance partner.
"Don't be shy," Roxanne said, "We're all friends here." She put a hand on Neville's shoulder to gently guide him closer to his dance partner. "I assure you this will be fun."
Not looking convinced, Neville did acquiesce as he went to stand beside Hermione. Though neither Gryffindor made any attempt to look at one another or to initiate the needed contact to dance.
Moving on the Greengrass Matriarch turned her attention towards Harry. He suppressed another groan; he had been hoping she'd overlook him. "And we'll have Harry dance with the lovely Miss Davis."
Unlike Hermione and Neville, Tracey didn't seem bothered in the least about dancing. In fact she looked absolutely thrilled at the opportunity. Harry, on the other hand didn't share her enthusiasm. She took the initiative making her way towards him, and looping her hand in Harry's arm. Her eyes sparkled mischievously, "How bout it, Harry?"
Harry gulped, not sharing the same level of confidence that Tracey obviously had, "Sure."
She seemed to pick up on it, patting his shoulder, "Don't worry just follow my lead."
He responded with a tight nod, neither of them was able to continue their conversation as Mrs. Greengrass had turned her attention on the remaining unassigned pair.
"And that leaves my daughter with Mr. Nott," Roxanne finished over the loud groaning protests of the remaining Slytherins.
"I'd rather dance with a dementor," Daphne proclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest while fixing Theodore with a deadly stare.
Theo for his part looked just as miserable as Daphne. "Yeah, and I'd rather jump off the Hogwarts astronomy tower."
"I could push you?" suggested Daphne.
"Now, now," Roxanne said, stepping in before the feuding Slytherins could continue their exchange of insults. She placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder gently nudging her towards Theodore.
"Okay, okay," Daphne said, making her way over towards Theodore, her arms remained crossed, as she took a position besides him.
She inspected the three pairs before advising, "It would help if you faced each other."
Harry turned to face Tracey, glancing to his left he saw a nervous Neville follow suit, and glancing to his right he saw a more resigned Theodore as he took up his position in front of Daphne.
"Excellent," Roxanne said, smiling, as she clapped her hands together. "Now, there are several dances that it is best be accustomed to, but for today's lesson, we will keep it simple..."
To Harry Potter, the next two hours were anything but simple. Mrs. Greengrass taught them various dance routines, each more confusing than the last for Harry. Thankfully, in the beginning he was paired with Tracey who turned out to be a very good dancer. When he asked about this she simply smiled before shrugging, saying she and her mother took dance lessons together for the past two summers. Tracey was able to help guide him through the routines, making Harry feel somewhat competent.
However, he didn't just dance with Tracey, but was assigned to also Hermione and Daphne. Mrs. Greengrass explaining her decision for them to switch partners because she wanted them to be familiar with other partners; citing that at these balls it wasn't uncommon to dance with various partners throughout the night.
Harry and Hermione were the next pairing. To put it mildly they were a complete disaster together. Neither of them had much of a clue to what they were doing. Without Tracey to help guide him, Harry was completely lost and it painfully showed. The only thing they were able to accomplish throughout the handful of their routines was stepping on each others' toes countless times.
Trying to take his mind off the growing pain arising in his feet he looked out to see how the two other pairs were fairing. Tracey was with Theodore, and the two Slytherins were working well together. It seemed Theodore was doing the same thing that Harry had done previously, staying quiet and listening to Tracey's instructions. Neville, the shy Gryffindor was paired with Daphne, looking just as timid as he did when he had been paired with Hermione. He was standing ramrod straight, stammering as he tried to follow Roxanne's instructions. The Greengrass Matriarch hovering around the pair and offering patient tips to Neville as the routine progressed.
The final pairing of the lesson had Harry with Daphne. He was nursing swollen feet, having had them stamped on several times by Hermione; he made his way over to his final dance partner. She offered him a smile, one pair of hands enclosed, while Harry rested the other on her waist, and she on his shoulder. Still confused, and far from mastering the various dance routines, coupled with his sore feet were making it difficult for him as he and Daphne began their routine. Thankfully for him, Daphne took the initiative causing Harry to realize that Tracey wasn't the only good dance. It shouldn't have surprised him, knowing that her mother was bound to have taught Daphne a few things before this lesson. And just like with Tracey, Harry found himself following Daphne's lead, and performing half way decently.
Looking over to see Tracey and Neville were partnered together, and that to no one's surprise Tracey was leading and whispering patiently to Neville, who was still looking flustered. Yet, he was doing surprisingly well in following them and her lead. Harry watching them only counted one wince Tracey made when Neville had accidentally stepped on her toes.
Theodore and Hermione were the other pairing. The two friends looked a bit flustered about the close contact between them, as they stumbled through their routine. However, they seemed to get over their initial embarrassment rather quickly, even though it didn't show in their footwork that continued to remain pitiful. Yet, now, neither of them looked to be wallowing in their own discomfort or misery. And even though their faces remained flushed, the two friends were getting over their awkwardness and trading shy smiles with laughter soon following.
Soon enough Roxanne called the lesson over. She claimed it a success as well as the first of many to be expected in the coming months and years. This earned a groan from the boys at the thought of more dance lessons in their future. Though, when Harry dropped his hands from Daphne their eyes met and she gave him a small smile, and in that heartbeat of a second, he felt his chest tighten as he returned her smile, thinking that perhaps more dance lessons may not be such a bad idea after all, especially if it's with the right dance partner.
Where is it?
Harry was beginning to lose his patience as he continued his search for the elusive book in the Hogwarts school library. They had only been back a week from the Christmas Holiday, and Harry and the others already found themselves at the library to study and to do homework. While his friends were at their usual spot in the library, Harry was wading through the towering bookshelves in the school's history section trying to find a certain book on the seventeenth century goblin wars that he needed to write another goblin essay for History of Magic. This essay would mark his third goblin essay this year alone.
Theodore had nothing but a glowing review for the book having been the last person to check it out. Unfortunately for Harry his friend had returned the book at the beginning of the term. He checked the crumpled piece of paper in his hand to make sure he had remembered the right title and name of the author, he had; which meant he was in the right spot, but looking at the bookshelf in front of him, the book was absent. He had already checked the catalogue to make sure the book hadn't been checked out. It hadn't.
So it should be here, mused a frustrated Harry as he squinted at the small text on the spines of several books in search of the book he needed. There was a book on goblin wrestling, goblin warbling, and even a book on goblin wigs. And where the book on the 17th century goblin wars was suppose to be there was nothing.
He took a step back feeling a growing headache build from having to squint to read so much small print in the last handful of minutes. He gently massaged his temple, before running a hand over his face. His headache seemed to only worsen, and he was beginning to think it better to ask the librarian.
A sudden, but prickling pain caused Harry to wince, instinctively bringing his hand to his forehead. Harry's first thought was that it was just from the lingering headache he was feeling before realizing that the prickling pain was still present, and it wasn't a headache, it was coming from his scar. Confused, and a small part apprehensive of the pain in his scar, he tentatively put his fingers to the lightning etched mark on his forehead.
He took a few steps back with his attention on his scar he wasn't looking where he was going, bumping into someone in the process and unable to keep his balance; he fell to the floor hearing a familiar voice cry out in protest.
"Watch it, Potter!"
The disdain in the voice was clear for Harry before ever looking up from his sitting position to see Draco Malfoy standing over him. His fellow Slytherin second year looked paler than usual, his blond hair often tidy and combed back was disheveled, and dark bags could be seen under his grey eyes. He looked sickly and in his hands he was carrying only a book, but it didn't look to be any school textbook. It appeared, beat up, and almost ratty looking, but appearances beside, Malfoy was clutching that book tightly to his chest as if it was the most precious thing in the world to him.
"Sorry, Malfoy," Harry muttered, it was a bitter pill to swallow to apologize to him, but seeing as he did bump into him, he felt it was a polite obligation.
"Think you're too good to even watch where you're going now, Scarhead?" Malfoy sneered.
Harry decided it was better not to rise to Malfoy's bait, and elected to push himself off of the ground and back to his feet, and as he stood back up, the pain in his scar only grew. Squinting, and forcing himself not to wince in front of Malfoy not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Thankfully for Harry, Malfoy didn't seem to notice, or have the intention of dallying, since Draco pushed past Harry and beat it rather quickly out of their row and out of sight.
It wasn't long after Malfoy left that the scar in his pain dissipated as did his headache. It was also from his different vantage point that Harry finally spotted his book. It was mistakenly put on the opposite shelf than the one he had been looking at. Snatching the book from its misplaced spot, a satisfied Harry made his way back towards his friends' table.
With the book in hand, Harry's attention shifted back towards the pain in his scar. Remembering it had only hurt previously around Quirrell and that had only occurred because he was being possessed by Voldemort. With that revelation the first thought that came to Harry's mind was did that mean Malfoy was being possessed by Voldemort? Harry dismissed that thought as quickly as it came to him, realizing how absurd it would be if that had happened. But what else could've caused Harry's scar to prickle in pain?
His thoughts on the pain in his scar were put to the side upon hearing the familiar voices of his friends who were sitting at their usual table in their usual spot in the library.
"Isn't a bit soon to be talking about our electives?"
That was Neville. Harry spotted the pudgy Gryffindor sitting on one side of the table next to Hermione, with Theodore on the other side, across from Neville was Tracey and across from Hermione was Daphne, with the only empty seat at the table being the end seat between Daphne and Theodore, which was where Harry had left his schoolbag when he had set out to find the library book a few minutes ago.
"It's never too early," countered Hermione, sifting through various pamphlets she had gathered from her Head of House and had placed them on top of her closed Charms book.
"That's right," Daphne agreed, waving a pamphlet to emphasize her point. "We'll be taking these classes for the next two years, including O.W.L.S."
Hermione was nodding her head in support of Daphne's astute point, and as Harry stepped into view he tried to wipe away any lingering discomfort from his expression from the previous pain he had just experienced from his scar. Having decided that at the present time it may not be the best idea to share what had just happened with his scar, not wanting to draw attention, confusion, or worry to something that might have just been a fluke.
The first to spot Harry was Theodore. "You found the book."
All heads turned to Harry, who nodded, holding up the book as proof, the others satisfied continued their talk on the electives they'd want to take. The only one who hadn't turned away was Theodore, sending Harry a curious expression; he tried to downplay his friend's curiosity by giving him a tight smile. It didn't seem to work.
"You okay?" he whispered when Harry sat down.
"Yeah," Harry waved him off, "just bit of a headache trying to find this book."
Theodore didn't look convinced, but thankfully he didn't press on the matter sending Harry one more curious look before returning his attention to his open Potions book.
Half listening to Daphne and Hermione's conversation about the upcoming electives, Harry picked up one of the nearest pamphlets that were sitting beside Daphne's books. It was on Ancient Runes. This was the class on the top of Harry's elective list, his interest in the subject having only grown upon realizing just how vital runes were to the wizarding world and their use in so many various magical objects that he came into contact with including Dumbledore's pensieve, his mum's wireless, and the school's brooms.
"Thinking about runes?" Theo asked when Harry looked up at him from the pamphlet.
"Yeah," he answered, "You?"
Theo nodded, "Yeah, I'm taking it too."
Harry smiled, "that's great."
"To some," Daphne drawled, entering their conversation. Her teasing tone belaying her next words, "It's just what I need, more classes with you, Nott."
Theodore had the good sense to roll his eyes, not making an effort to reply to her teasing.
"I think we're all taking runes," Tracey observed, looking around the table, receiving confirming nods from Daphne and Hermione to only further strengthen her observation.
"Not everyone."
Five heads turned to the lone holdout-Neville Longbottom.
"You're not taking runes, Nev?" Harry asked.
He shook his head, "No, I'd be rubbish at it."
"We could help you," Harry assured his friend. Pleased, when the others at the table nodded their head in agreement, signaling they were too were willing to help Neville out if the subject proved tough for him.
"No, that's okay," Neville dismissed, though he did look thankful for their gesture.
"So what classes are you going to take?" Hermione asked, looking over a pair of pamphlets she had been reading.
"Care of Magical Creatures," he answered, "And Muggle Studies."
"Muggle studies?" repeated Harry. He shouldn't be surprised in Neville's latter choice; knowing that his time with the Grangers and at Tracey's house had left an impact on the pureblood wizard. His introduction to several muggle devices had seemed to ensnare the wizard's curiosity.
"Yeah," Neville confirmed, looking excited and happy at his elective prospects. "I think it's going to be awesome."
"That's great, Nev," Theo encouraged, "I'd take Muggle Studies too, but…" He trailed off, and everyone at the table knew who he was going to refer to. It wouldn't come as a surprise to know Mr. Nott would not agree or support his son if he chose to take a class on studying muggles.
"So what's your second class going to be?" Harry asked, wanting to divert the subject away from Theo's father.
"Probably Care of Magical Creatures."
"Yeah, that looks like a good class," Harry agreed. He'd always had an interest in magical creatures since his introduction into the magical world. "I'm taking it too."
"Really?" asked Theo and Neville.
"Yeah, it should be a fun class."
"What about Arithmancy?" Daphne asked.
Harry shrugged. "I think I could do without it."
Daphne rolled her eyes, "boys and their monsters."
It was soon discovered that the girls would be taking and sharing their electives as the three of them had all decided on taking Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Harry and Theodore were sharing their elective schedule by deciding on Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. Lastly, Neville who was the only one of them to take Muggle Studies was also planning on taking Care of Magical Creatures.
"I have plenty of books, Neville, if you need any help on muggle studies," Hermione encouraged her fellow Gryffindor.
Tracey was nodding her head in agreement. "That's right, so does my mum. She'd be happy to help you with any questions you might have."
"Thanks," Neville replied, looking thankful at his friends' support in wanting to help him.
The two girls smiled at the Gryffindor, before Tracey turned her attention to her watch and her smile quickly disappeared as the Slytherin's expression turned to dismay. "Hermione, we need to get going."
"Already?" asked an equally surprised Hermione.
Tracey responded by holding out her arm and pointing to her watch so that Hermione could read the time for herself.
"Oh dear," Hermione said, sounding frazzled, "you're right we need to go."
Confused, and curious at their sudden shift in behavior, Harry was silently wondering what his two friends were talking about. It seemed he wasn't the only one since Theodore voiced the obvious question.
"Where are you two off to?"
The girls stopped in their packing up their bags to exchange a look, before Hermione finally answered.
"Professor Lockhart asked us to help him with his fan mail."
Theodore surveyed his two friends in disbelief before shaking his head realizing that he hadn't heard wrong. "I'd hate for you two to miss that."
Neither girl chose to respond to his sarcastic remark as they had just finished packing up their school bags and with a quick wave, the two girls left.
"I can't believe them," Theo grumbled.
"Yeah," Neville agreed, "Sounds more like something you'd do for detention not for fun."
Picturing that sort of detention was enough for Harry to shake his head. "I'd hate to be in that detention."
Theodore and Neville were quick to voice their agreement.
Daphne, didn't speak on the matter, the Slytherin was in the process of packing up her own things.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked.
"To the Owlery," she slung her bag over shoulder. "To send a few letters back home," she held up the letters she was meaning to send. "I'll see you at dinner."
"Alright," Harry said, knowing that Daphne liked to send separate letters to her parents and sister and tried to send letters to them as often as she could. Her own departure to the Owlery reminded Harry that he had his own letters to write, the two on the forefront of his mind were for Moony and Hagrid.
"Are you sure there's no other way?" Theodore groaned.
"Not if you want to do well on the subject," replied Neville.
Harry's musing on his letters was interrupted by his two friends, turning back in his seat to see they too were packing up their stuff. "Where are you guys going?"
"The greenhouses," Neville answered.
"Both of you?" Harry asked, turning to his best friend knowing that Theodore wasn't much for Herbology.
"Yeah," answered a resigned Theo, gesturing to Neville he added. "He's helping me with my assignment."
"Have fun," Harry said dryly, fighting off a smile at seeing Theo's pained look at having to work on a class that he didn't particularly like.
Neville seemed to miss Harry's sarcasm since he smiled and answered with an enthusiastic, "We will."
"What about you?" Theo asked.
"I'm staying here," Harry answered, opening up the library book on goblin wars he had just found, and pulling out a piece of parchment and his quill. "I need to write that goblin essay."
"No need to brag," Theo said glumly.
Harry and Neville exchanged looks. It was no secret to them in knowing that Theo would rather write a history essay than work on his Herbology assignment.
"See ya at dinner?"
"Yeah," Harry answered, waving goodbye to his two friends, before turning his attention towards his opened history book to begin working on his History of Magic essay…
Harry Potter was surrounded by darkness. The only light was a fading glint that was winking at him in the distance. Seeing this light as a beacon to help him escape this suffocating darkness Harry approached it. As he did, he tried to make sense of his current predicament. And the first thing he had to figure out was-Where was he?
"Rip…tear…kill."
A cold, murderous voice echoed in the darkness causing the hairs on the back of Harry's neck to go up. He spun around, squinting into the dark hoping to find the source of the voice, but he saw nothing. He quickened his pace towards the glint of light that was beginning to shimmer through the darkness helping to lighten the path ahead of him.
The cold voice was silent for the remainder of Harry's trek, as he got closer he discovered the source of the light. It was the Mirror of Erised. Its golden ornate frame shimmering from a handful of candles dimly lit overhead. It couldn't be possible; Harry had seen the mirror destroyed in his fight with Voldemort…
"We are one."
The soft hissing voice caused Harry's stomach to lurch. It was an all too familiar voice that he had heard once before.
Taking a steady breath, Harry stepped into view of the mirror for the first time. To see him staring at his own reflection, but in the mirror his dark unruly hair could not be seen. It was covered up by an all too familiar purple colored turban. Startled, Harry instantly brought his hands to his own head, fingers fumbling to rid himself of it, but it wasn't cloth, but hair that his fingers touched. He was not wearing the turban, only his reflection was.
"You thought you could elude me?" the hissing voice returned. It was the voice of Voldemort.
Harry looked around for the source of the voice, but it was only him and the mirror.
"Look at me," demanded the hissing voice of Voldemort.
He was able to pinpoint the source of Voldemort's voice, turning slowly back around to face the mirror, his stomach fell and his worse suspicions were confirmed when he looked upon his reflection. The purple turban that had been covering up his own reflection's head in the mirror had been removed to reveal the face that had haunted many of his dreams. Yet, this time the face wasn't on the back of Quirrell's head, but Harry's!
Pasty white flesh stretched thin to show a gaunt, hollow face. Glowing red eyes that shimmered maliciously, with a thin pair of lips that were peeled back to form a nasty smile. And there was no nose; instead he had slits that looked more fitting on a snake then a human.
Again, Harry's hand went to his own head, relieved to feel hair. Again, it was only the reflection in the mirror, and not Harry himself who possessed Voldemort.
"You think you are safe?" Voldemort asked, mockingly. "You are not."
"What do you want?" Harry asked, trying to inject some confidence in his voice.
"To finish what I started."
At first Harry thought he meant the Stone, he meant Harry himself, but seeing something in his eyes made him realize that it wasn't Harry. He wasn't the focal point. It was something else, but he didn't have long to think about what he meant as a new voice once more emerged.
"I smell blood." It was the cold, murderous voice. It had returned.
His blood ran cold, spinning around to see nothing.
"You cannot stop the inevitable." That was Voldemort's voice.
Harry turned back around to his reflection, back to Voldemort's face that was etched on the back of Harry's head, not Quirrell. It was a truly terrifying sight to see the monster known as Voldemort morphed into the back of his own skin, even if it was just his reflection. That did little to comfort Harry, causing him to wonder how was this possible? Could he be linked to Voldemort…
He opened his mouth to speak to rebut Voldemort, but the cold voice returned.
"Defilers of my noble master must be punished."
He felt his heart thundering behind his ribs at the return of the murderous voice, but all attempts to look through the darkness to catch a glimpse of the source of the voice were for naught. Harry found nothing. He saw nothing.
"You won't win," Harry proclaimed turning his attention back to the face of the most feared Dark Lord of the last century.
"The ancient darkness has been awakened," was the Dark Lord's reply. His thin lips pulled back showing rotten yellow teeth that more resembled fangs. "And all those deemed impure must be purged."
"Harry!"
Voldemort was gone. Harry's reflection was gone. The Mirror of Erised was gone.
"Harry, wake up!"
The darkness was lifting. Light once more was beginning to swirl around him.
"Harry!"
"Ugh," Harry groaned, blinking in the light to discover that his face was on an open page of the history book. He had fallen asleep while attempting to write his History of Magic essay. His encounter with his own reflection sporting Voldemort's face had been a dream, or more accurately nightmare. It wasn't real. It couldn't have been real, but Harry didn't find any confidence or satisfaction in this discovery. Instead, he felt a lingering suspicion that his encounter with Voldemort may not have entirely been a dream…
Theo's hand was on his shoulder signaling that he had tried to shake him to wake him up. "You okay, Harry?" He asked, his hand remained on his shoulder, while he sounded out of breath.
Peeling his face off of the page to sit back up, he stifled a yawn. "I'm fine, Theo."
His fellow Slytherin let loose a breath. "Good," he said, patting Harry's shoulder.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, putting on his glasses to see a worried Theodore enter his vision. His friend looked a bit paler, and was breathing a bit heavily signaling that he had probably sprinted here.
"There was an attack."
Harry instantly perked at this. Feeling a growing coldness swell inside of him, as he remembered his encounter. "What do you mean?"
"A student…" Theodore began, looking and sounding a bit shaky. "A student has been attacked."
A/N: I included the snowball fight scene because I wanted to show Harry and his friends as just kids enjoying the holiday and having some fun without worrying about grades or threats. A chance for Harry to just be normal and not have to worry about anything, a rare moment of bliss for the second year Slytherin.
The dance scene in this chapter had been in my mind for some time, as early as some of the first outlines for this story. And I wanted to use it to help display the bit of awkwardness that kids can feel at this time, especially with their friends as new confusing feelings begin to arise in them. I'm also no expert on dancing so I kept the techniques and routines vague on purpose. Hopefully I didn't botch it.
Thanks for reading,
-Spectre4hire