Chapter Thirty-Five

"You could at least look like you're happy to be here."

Daisy's eyes barely flickered from the goblet of pumpkin juice she had been entranced with for the better part of the last five minutes, carefully but deliberately ignoring the boy standing next to her as she pretended to be looking out of the vast French windows that gave way to what should have been a breath-taking view of sprawling beautiful well-kept gardens.

"Maybe if I knew what I was doing here," Daisy answered, "I might have better luck pretending to be happy to be here."

"I thought the invitation was pretty clear," Draco said. "Since you and I both have our birthdays in June whilst we're at Hogwarts, and your guardian is my godfather, and my father is – well, I suppose he's your godfather in some roundabout way – it only makes sense for us to celebrate together. You are here to celebrate our birthdays."

"And what if I don't want to?"

Draco seemed affronted by the question. "Why wouldn't you want to?"

All Daisy wanted to do was to hurl her pumpkin juice through the window and stomp off.

She hadn't wanted to celebrate her birthday at all, what with it being the first birthday since she could remember without her father. The long table at one side of the ballroom slowly piling up with presents as they were handed over to the house elves only brought back memories of her and her brother sat at the table of 4 Privet Drive, counting their presents after they'd wrongly interpreted one of their father's speeches about not getting swindled: if a man doesn't give you more than he did the last time, he is not to be trusted for he was not your friend at all. This would have been the year that they reached a collective 80 presents for her and Dudley – Vernon had joked that this would be the last year before they had to reset the counter to one present each or there wouldn't be any room in the house for their presents. Daisy had assumed they'd just get a bigger house.

How quickly things changed.

All Daisy could think was that her father should be alive and she shouldn't be stood in the Malfoy ball room of their Wiltshire estate, dressed in the strangest white floral chiffon dress with way too many pleats in the skirt that was apparently all the rage at the moment in wizarding fashion, sipping bloody pumpkin juice and having to pretend that despite everything, she didn't hold Lucius Malfoy responsible for her father's death. The idea of her ever viewing him as her godfather was laughable at best.

"It's just weird, Draco," she said, taking a deep breath to steady herself against the brewing anger in her chest. It had only been about half an hour since guests started arriving - she needed to calm down if she wanted to get to the end without tantrum. "You hate me, and I know you hate me, and I think we know the feeling's pretty mutual, so why on Earth would you let your father do this to us?"

"Why would you help me in the Forbidden Forest?" Draco retorted, caught off guard by the question.

It was a question she'd asked herself several times since that night. "Because I'm an idiot."

"That you are." He smirked as she finally turned to look at him, even if it was only to glare at him. "Does my father strike you as the kind of man who takes no for an answer? Besides, I doubt Levi-Strauss would have agreed to it if he didn't think it was beneficial for you. And I really don't think Father would have allowed that snake in our home if it wasn't beneficial for all of us. So stop looking so gloomy and just enjoy yourself."

"Stop doing that."

He frowned slightly. "Stop doing what?"

"Being so cheery – it's completely unbecoming of a Malfoy. Aren't you renowned for being ice-cold demons or something?"

"I think you'll find I'm being charming," Draco smiled. "Mother tells me I'm nearing the time where I'm going to start breaking girls' hearts, what with my endless charm and my killer smile and all."

"Will that be when you're finally taller than all the girls or…?" Daisy asked, feigning genuine curiosity as she stood on her tiptoes to accentuate the fact that she was still taller than him.

"It's not my fault you're a bloody beanstalk!" he snapped, cheeks colouring. "You'll regret it when I'm taller than you, Dursley. You'll see."

"What's going on?" Harry asked as he approached them, finally breaking away from the gaggle of older women who had attacked him, asking countless of questions most of which he couldn't answer. "What are you laughing at?"

"Oh, just Draco," Daisy replied, unable to help the smile now playing on her lips. "He's under the illusion that one day he'll be taller than me."

"Fat chance of that happening."

"Who asked you, Potter?" Draco snapped, but it was with none of the usual malice. "Do try and enjoy this, Dursley. It's your birthday celebrations too."

"Whatever," Daisy said to Malfoy's retreating back. "I can't wait until this is over."

As Harry made a conceding noise, Daisy realised just how glad she was that he was here with her. The entire experience would have been far more unbearable if Harry hadn't been by her side, occasionally dragged off by people who wanted to talk to Harry Potter – the Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World - whilst most people seemed wary of her, though that was understandable. After all, barely a month had passed since she became Magical Law Enforcement's Number One suspect for the murder of Terence Higgs (which had now been ruled as gambling-related crime and shoved in a deep administrative hole somewhere). Also, if Mrs Malfoy's behaviour around her was anything to go by, there were more than a few people who took issue to her being a Muggleborn.

Daisy sighed. It was the first week of the summer holidays; she shouldn't have to be dealing with this. She should have been lounging in bed, occasionally getting out of it to carry out her vain attempts at coaxing a broom out of her mother despite their budget restrictions, not here, doing a half-arsed job at appearing grateful, awed and whatever else she'd been instructed to attempt to look like. Whenever she caught Levi-Strauss' green eyes boring into her as if to remind her to smile, she made sure to scowl harder because he knew full well she didn't want to be here. She'd tried to argue her way out of it from the moment the majestic owl delivered the invitation the first day back, but she'd been out-argued.

Levi-Strauss thought it was good PR, though Daisy was beginning to think that Levi-Strauss thought just about everything was good PR, and Snape had argued the "Lucius Malfoy saved you from prison, you ungrateful little brat" card. Though these were mildly convincing arguments (she hadn't asked Lucius to keep her out of prison), it was Harry pointing out that her friends would be there that prompted her to get out of bed without fuss that morning rather than throwing the massive tantrum she had originally planned. She would have been lying if she said that seeing Blaise wasn't one of her main motivators to remain smiling in the roomful of Purebloods.

"Don't you think it's weird that Snape and Malfoy's dad aren't even here?" Harry said as they greeted a fresh wave of people, fixed smiles faltering slightly as they moved away. "Isn't this his party?"

"Speak of the devils," Daisy muttered as a hush fell over the room as Lucius and Snape arrived, "and they shall appear."

It felt natural that Daisy should move towards Snape, since he was her legal guardian, but sometimes the lines between that and her being her Head of House and her Potions Professor blurred into one confusing mess and she wasn't entirely sure how to act. She was especially confused by his love of Stinging Hexes and apparent lack of worry that she might just figure out a way to get in touch with the faux-Lockhart-You-Know-Who and have him killed off. At least Daisy was able to take solace from the fact that he seemed as awkward as she felt; this was the first time they were in a public place outside of Hogwarts.

"Apologies for our lateness, Draco," Lucius said. "We had an urgent meeting this morning at Hogwarts in regards to next year's teaching positions and that took much longer than expected. And then of course there was the question of your gift. Well, gifts. Severus seemed incapable of picking an adequate present for either of you – perfectionist to the core."

"If I recall correctly, Lucius, that was you," Snape bristled before turning his gaze to Daisy, "I trust you have been behaving yourself?"

"I am capable of doing so," Daisy said. She waited impatiently for them to finish exchanging greetings with Harry before demanding, "What's happening with the teachers?"

"The Board of Governors is attempting to hire one that isn't trying to kill you – the task proves more difficult than anticipated. Ah, Narcissa," he greeted as Mrs Malfoy came over to their intimate group which she completed. "Before you say anything - blame him."

"That is what you always say, Severus," Narcissa said as she greeted her husband and then Snape with a single airy kiss to the cheek. "There are a few more guests still to arrive and then lunch will be served. At least you won't be the last ones to arrive to your own party. Ah, and the Notts won't be coming today, Lucius. They thank you graciously for your invitation but Alec would rather return to Azkaban than…well, you know."

"That's a shame," Daisy commented, refusing to concede and look away from Narcissa Malfoy's cold look, "I was looking forward to meeting such a well-known Muggle Baiter - perhaps learn a thing or two."

"Trust me, he's not as interesting as he sounds," Lucius answered before his wife's façade could slip up. He'd had to do a lot of work to convince Narcissa that having Daisy in the house was the best thing for them all. "If you three will excuse us, Severus and I have a roomful of people to greet."

"Do not threaten the Purebloods," Snape hissed, as he walked past her, the hand resting on her shoulder gripping a little too tightly. "I will certainly not be coming to fish you out of whichever dungeon you really are dragged off to this time."

Daisy resisted the urge to make a rude gesture at his retreating back, instead keeping a smile on her face as if he had just wished her a happy birthday or something equally banal. It wasn't fair that she was being blamed for Mrs Malfoy's particularly unwelcoming behaviour towards her. So perhaps it wasn't the best idea to imply she was going to start Pureblood-baiting but Mrs Malfoy had started it! Every time their gazes met, the older blonde woman had this look on her face, as if something distinctly unpleasant was passing under her nose. It was just plain rude.

"Before you start," Daisy said to Draco as he turned to her, "I didn't ask to be here. So if your mother didn't want a Mudblood in the house, you shouldn't have let one in."

"She's a Black, Daisy," Draco sighed, frustrated at the situation. "They weren't raised to look kindly upon…your kind. And you're not exactly making matters better." Before Daisy could defend herself, Draco had already turned his attention away from her and to the doorway through which guests were entering. "Well, well, well - look who finally decided to show his face."

Daisy followed his gaze, and stifled the massive grin she felt threatening to make its way onto her face, mirroring instead Blaise's usual aloof amusement as he and Draco greeted each other like old friends. It was during moments like these that Daisy was reminded that Draco had known Blaise long before the latter decided he found Daisy…fascinating. It took a moment before Daisy stopped looking at Blaise (noting his new haircut, the way the dark blue of his dress shirt made his hazel eyes more piercing and the way those eyes looked at her) and noticed the two adults who were with him.

Blaise's stepfather was a tall, imposing man who only got taller as she and Harry drew closer to come greet them with a severe face composed of sharp angles and dark brown eyes that took in the room intently. He was a sharp contrast to Blaise's mother whom the rumours did no justice: up until this moment, Mrs Malfoy had held the title of the most beautiful woman in the room with very little competition. She had just lost the title.

"Daisy, this is my father, Stefan Drahi of House Shafiq," Blaise introduced. "Father, this is Daisy Dursley and her cousin, Harry Potter."

Expecting Drahi to turn to Harry first, as nearly everyone else had done when they were introduced, she was surprised when he turned to her instead. "Of course, Daisy Dursley - the face that launched a thousand ships," he said, his voice holding unexpected warmth, and his eyes creasing warmly at his own joke. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you - I have heard much about you."

"All good things I hope, sir," Daisy smiled, shaking his outstretched hand.

"From Blaise, yes. From others – not so good."

"That's a shame."

"It is greater shame to care what others think," Blaise's mother said. "Ileana Drahi – I am Blaise's mother."

The introduction was unnecessary, as they had the same blazing hazel eyes and the sharp cheekbones. With Ileana's mane of curls cascading around caramel toned face, Daisy was reminded of a lioness ready to pounce.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mrs Drahi," Daisy said.

"Likewise. The Daily Prophet does not do you justice, though you should eat more. Your face looks hollow and you look sad. Your father would not want you to be sad." Ileana turned her attention to Harry as her husband greeted him. "Well of course there is not a single person in this world who has not heard of the great Harry Potter, Stefan! He is Saviour of the Wizarding World and the boy who broke the rules in his first year by being permitted a broom when all the others were not. Potter this, and Potter that and why not for Slytherins this – oh signore! I never thought I would hear the end!"

Harry went red even though it was Blaise who looked (slightly) more embarrassed by his mother's behaviour. Daisy didn't think he had any need to be. She had a warmth and forwardness that Daisy had rarely seen in mothers (especially in the presence of other parents),and it made Ileana Drahi seem like so much more than a very beautiful witch with an interesting past; she was an embarrassing mother, just like any other, who clearly cared about her son very much.

"You two – trouble wherever you go," Ileana continued, pointing a long finger between Daisy and Harry. "I see why my Blaise likes you. Oh!" Her attention had been caught by something beyond them. She turned to her husband, dislike etched on her feature. "All the money in the world and she wore that? Come – let us go and say hello to Narcissa."

"Ileana, surely you can see that you not getting along with her is foolish," Drahi could be heard saying as he walked besides his wife, "Lucius and I are business partners. House Shafiq and House Malfoy-"

"Business, business, business – always about the business. What about what she say about your wife, huh? That not your business too?"

Daisy didn't really have time to wonder if Blaise's mum didn't have a reputation because she was clearly crazy, as the last wave of visitors arrived prompting a repetitive cycle of greeting one party before they moved on to meet others. It grew better as time got on, because she no longer just standing there awkwardly with Harry, occasionally joined by Draco; soon Blaise came to stand with them, and Vincent and Gregory preferred to hover near her and join in on conversations rather than act as background objects for Draco. Even excitable Jake Harper from the year below them, came over to say hello and sparked a debate on the upcoming World Quidditch Cup tournament.

Despite saying the contrary, she was quite glad that Marcus was off at some exclusive Quidditch training camp in Switzerland or wherever. Though they remained somewhat close – he had Flooed to tell her he would be leaving - they had been…at odds since the revelation that everyone had been hiding something from everyone. She hated that he was always trying to protect her. It felt suffocating and like he didn't believe for a second that she could take care of herself, and everything she did just seemed to confirm that for him.

By the time they settled down to their late lunch, Daisy was actually glad she had come. Though he kept his distance far more than he would have at Hogwarts, Blaise made her laugh as much as he always did, as did Harry's response to Gregory that perhaps his midriff would fare much better if he wasn't continuously offering knuckle sandwiches. It was also a smaller affair than Daisy had expected, though she wouldn't have been surprised if a lot of the guests had declined the invitation on the principle that they would never be seen dead eating with…certain people.

The food was good, though Daisy would have never admitted it to anyone, and having to sit at the main table of the dozen or so set up around with the Malfoys and Snape kind of put a damper on things. Like she had told Draco earlier, it was just…odd to be sat across from a woman who clearly would have preferred to have a dog sat at the table eating off of her best china, the man who had indirectly killed her father and her Potions Professor who at this particular moment in time wasn't her Potions Professor but her legal guardian and Draco's godfather. Not to mention the fact that she strongly suspected that those who had shown up were former Death Eaters or had links to You-Know-Who, and Harry was sitting next to her, either oblivious of this fact or uncaring.

Or perhaps all he cared about was being there with her. During the cutting of the cake, she'd caught sight of him enthusiastically singing Happy Birthday and realised she couldn't recall him ever seeing him sing it at her birthdays. He was always in the background somewhere, whether in his cupboard or in the kitchen helping with the preparations. He'd come to the amusement park with them on her eleventh birthday, but that had been an afterthought and last year, her father had taken them dinner her first night back – without Harry, of course. This year, he was right by her side, and without a Dudley in sight.

As the afternoon sun began to set and slowly dwindle into a sunset, Vincent pulled her aside.

"You look all grey," he said, taking her gently by the arm. "Let's get you fresh air."

"I can take her," Harry said, standing up as well, though he was clearly tired. The event seemed to have taken quite a bit from him, and as things began to wind down, his fatigue began to be more visible on his features.

"It's fine, Harry," Daisy said, resting a reassuring hand on his arm, gently guiding him back into his seat. "You stay here. Vincent can take me." Though she kept a calm façade, she couldn't help but lean over to Vincent as they wove through the guests and ask, "This isn't a ploy to kill me, is it?"

"What?" Vincent said, his entire face scrunching up in confusion. He shook his head. "No. No, of course not. Don't be stupid."

She didn't feel like this was the moment to point out that it wasn't a stupid thought at all given who his family was (the polite manner in which Crabbe Sr. had greeted her was suspicious) and their own personal history, so she remained silent as they stepped out onto the balcony. Daisy had to admit that the fresh air did feel good, and she took deep breaths as they occupied the far corner of the balcony, steadying herself on the white stone. To anyone watching them it really would look like he had accompanied her out before she fainted.

"So, is there a particular reason why I'm out here getting some fresh air?"

"I wanted to give you your birthday present," Vincent said after a moment or two. He seemed nervous, his eyes dashing nervously to the open doors behind them as he spoke, lowering his voice as he did so. "You can ask me one question – about anything – and if I know the answer, I'll answer it - in five words or less. One question."

"Are you serious? Anything?" she asked. He nodded grimly. She kept her voice low as she asked, "Did Lucius Malfoy open the Chamber of Secrets?"

He paused for a moment, his fingers and mouth moving as he thought of an appropriate response. "The diary opened the Chamber."

Daisy frowned. "The what?"

"You heard me. That's all I can say," Vincent shrugged. "That was too much as it is."

"Why say anything in the first place then?"

"Because you're one of a handful of people in that room who calls me Vincent."

"At least they don't call you Mudblood," Daisy pointed out, surprised by his answer.

He shook his head. "Not that many people do though, do they? Not anymore. You call yourself it more than they call you that. I've known Mr Malfoy years and he still calls me Crabbe Jr. He threw you a fucking birthday party. Your name is on a banner with Draco's. And Draco calls you Daisy in a week more than he ever calls me Vincent in a whole year."

Daisy frowned. "Where's this coming from?"

"You are one of two people in this entire manor who actually believes in me," he said, the frown on his own face deepening. "Father told me not to be stupid when I told him I wanted to take Arithmancy."

"You are taking Arithmancy - and Ancient Runes," Daisy said, retracting her hand quickly as she reached out to touch him. "You – no, we - need to take to take those subjects because - well, what's going to happen to your grandfather's research if we don't, huh? And besides, I don't see what there is not to believe in. We've talked about this stuff for hours. You showed me the research. You told me the origins of the word Mudblood. I learn something from you every day and-" She let out a frustrated huff as she realised she was getting wound up on his behalf. "Why do you keep letting them think you're stupid?"

"You know I can't write that good."

"But you can read, can't you? You can think, you can talk, you can-" Daisy didn't know why she suddenly felt so passionate about Vincent's cause – this was the boy who had held her down as Malfoy jinxed her. He'd called her Mudblood in its derogative form countless times. And yet, stood there with his hands shoved deep in his trouser pockets, round face scrunched up and pudding bowl haircut doing him no justice, she felt…protective. He was one of her boys. "You know what? You are going to do what you want to do. To hell with what anyone else thinks. Well, maybe not everything you want to do but we've already had that discussion, haven't we?"

"I dunno why you're so against it," he said, though his face relaxed as he looked at her, "even Muggle research shows that you can continue to function if you cut out a bit of brain."

"We've been over this - that's like Muggle research from the Dark Ages." She rolled her eyes at his smirk, though she couldn't help but smirk back. He now seemed much more comfortable with his decision to reveal that enigmatic titbit that made absolutely no sense to Daisy. "So shall we go back in?"

"Not together. It'll look weird. You stay here and I'll send Potter to come 'see how you are'."

"Professor Snape had better not come out instead. It's my birthday apparently and the last thing I need is a speech on how I should take better care of myself."

"You should," Vincent agreed before he toddled off.

With him gone, she was left with an empty balcony and her her mind reeling with a thousand questions. She was quite glad that she was outside, so she could take deep calming breaths against the sudden feeling of overwhelm without anyone fussing over her. Why could she never just have one final straight answer? First she'd thought Lockhart was behind it all, and then she was supposed besties with You-Know-Who and now – now there was some sort of diary involved?

The diary opened the Chamber.

What on Earth did that mean? Was it a key of some sorts? Was diary an acronym for something or an anagram? Dray I opened the Chamber? Was he telling her that he and Draco had opened the Chamber together? She let out a low growl. Why hadn't he just given her a proper answer? Though at least now she knew that Vincent knew more than he let on – and that her attempts at cultivating a friendship with him had paid off. He actually thought she believed in him. Perhaps trying to convince him of that had led her to convince herself that she did, and now they were friends…? No, it was just that she understood how he felt; she understood the desire to want to be called by name, her own name, rather than her father's name as if she was just an extension of him. Vincent wasn't just a Crabbe, he was also Vincent, an ambitious, complex, slightly disturbed boy, but his own person.

Did this mean that he'd switched his loyalties to her?

Deep in thought, she jumped when Harry rushed over to her.

"It was them," he whispered breathlessly, casting a furtive glance around, though they were still alone on the balcony. "Malfoy opened the Chamber of Secrets!"

"What?" Daisy demanded. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Dobby! Dobby's their elf! He just gave me the fright of my life when I was coming back from the bathroom. Apparently Mr Harry Potter sir should not be here because Master is a bad man but of course Mr Harry Potter sir is never listening to Dobby."

Daisy couldn't really appreciate Harry's dry imitation of the house elf's speech style because she wasn't sure she remembered how to breathe. It was like all the air had been sucked out of her. It was one thing to suspect, and one thing to know and now she knew…

"That son of an inbred Pureblood bitch," Daisy hissed when she finally drew air. "All this time – all this bloody time! It all suddenly makes sense doesn't it – everything he did, everything he's doing is because he knew – because he started it – because -"

This time Daisy genuinely clutched at the balcony as she felt a wave of nausea hit her as her anger at Lucius Malfoy mounted. All this "concerned parent" act had felt false since the beginning, as if there had to be a motive behind it, but Daisy had begun to believe it, thinking that maybe he pitied her for making the same mistake he'd done of trusting a madman. However, now everything made sense; Snape snapping at Malfoy when she's first woken up because Snape had known that he-

"Snape knew," she continued. She clenched her fists tightly as she tried to reel in her emotions. All this time, Snape had known that his best friend had unleashed You-Know-Who and his ancient monster onto an unsuspecting student population and he had done nothing. "This has all been to keep me under control. The Muggleborn Protection Act was just a way to stop me – to stop me-"

If it hadn't been for the Act, she would have left the wizarding world, and You-Know-Who would have showed up in whatever form and found a way for her to remember, and together they would have - A cold chill ran down Daisy's spine as realisation hit. They would have killed them all. Every last fucking Pureblood in this godforsaken world.

"Daisy?" Harry said, his voice laced with concern. "Are you okay?"

"It's nothing," she shrugged, though she massaged her forehead gently, the pain giving her a point of focus. I am Daisy Dursley. I am in control. "It's just a headache."

"It's not just a headache, Daisy. For a minute I really thought – you had this scary look in your eyes."

"That is because I am going to destroy them," Daisy said, her eyes fixed on the setting sun, the orange and red hues steadily bleeding into the blue sky casting an odd glow to the Malfoy grounds. Under different circumstances she would have pointed out the white peacocks making their way across with veiled curiosity in the creatures, but right now they were another sign of Malfoy arrogance and made her blood boil further. "How dare he invite me here knowing what he did? How dare he when he is responsible for Daddy's death? How fucking dare he?"

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked calmly.

It was a moment or two before Daisy answered as if she was searching the horizon for the answer. "We are going to wait."

"To wait for what?"

"For the right time," Daisy said lowly. "When I'm through with them they'll have paid for Sally-Anne's death, for making you go through that and for Dad – and then, and only then, might I even consider hearing them beg for mercy. Like you said Harry, I'm a planner and I will find the right time. All we have to do is wait."

"No, you won't," Harry said. "You're going to get yourself killed. You can't do this on your own."

"I won't be on my own."

"Daisy – you can't control him, let alone trust him."

"I wasn't talking about him," Daisy said. "I'll have you, won't I?"

One look at Daisy's earnest face and he couldn't refuse her. She was choosing him to be by her side. He would know what was going on, and he would look out for her. He'd make good on his promises to Aunt Petunia to keep Daisy safe. He reached over and took her hand in his giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Of course."

"Daisy! Pay attention to what Maître Levi-Strauss is saying."

Daisy didn't hide the roll of her eyes as she slowly put down the copy of Young Witch Weekly she had been perusing as she sat in a chair in a fancy hotel room located in the north of the Diagon Alley district, being prepped for today's interview with the magazine she had just been reading. A house elf by the name of Moxy was putting the final touches to her hair whilst Levi-Strauss fired interview questions at her.

"We've already been through this," Daisy pointed out. "I don't see why we have to go through it again."

"You're being interviewed by Rita Skeeter," Levi-Strauss said, crossing a long leg as he lazily tapped the cards containing the questions on the arm of the armchair he was sat in. "So far her take on you has been surprisingly favourable given all the possible rumours she could have latched on to, but all it takes is for her to decide she doesn't like you and she will ruin your image, regardless of how many threats you aim at her."

"Why not just kill her?"

"Daisy!" Petunia exclaimed from her seat on the sofa, where she had been eyeing the Moxy with disdain and (frequently) reprimanding Daisy on her tone. "You do not say things like that. You cannot just kill people."

"Maybe I'd find it easier to believe if my own father hadn't tried to kill me."

She knew she was being difficult, but like last week's birthday celebrations she didn't want to be here, but unlike Malfoy Manor, there was only a nosy reporter and a potential six-week spread in a young witch glossy in which Levi-Strauss was hoping to convey to everyone that she was just a normal teenage witch to look forward to. Harry wasn't even there to make it slightly more bearable, though Daisy strongly suspected that her mother had deliberately left Harry behind "to make sure Dudley didn't come home to an empty house" in order to keep them apart.

Since the discovery that this was All Lucius Malfoy's Fault, Harry and Daisy had naturally grown closer together. Shared secrets had a knack of doing that, and contrary to Daisy's room, Harry's room did have a door which meant Daisy could do her planning without the constant paranoia that she was being watched that often plagued her when in her own room. She was also looking forward to getting her hands on the Runes introductory text she'd ordered (well, Harry had ordered for her) so they could find a way to silence the door without using magic so they didn't run the risk of being overheard. Harry seemed somewhat interested by the Ancient Runes but he had point blank refused to even consider Arithmancy.

Daisy had worried that Dudley might take offence, but with him still being in school and in the middle of some intensive rugby sessions so he could get some sort of sports scholarship next year, he didn't seemed to have noticed. She still made time for him, of course, and he was her twin brother, something her mother seemed to worry Daisy would forget if she got to close to Harry.

"I thought we agreed to maintain a cheerful disposition today, Daisy," Levi-Strauss sighed. "You're recovered, getting your life together and learning to live with your grief, anger and disappointment, but ultimately you're happy. And why are you happy?"

"Because the wizarding world is such an amazing world to live in!" Daisy replied with false enthusiasm, smiling broadly at his thinly-veiled look of disdaint. Their relationship wavered from cold to lukewarm, and the moment it was firmly stuck on cold. They didn't need to do this – she already knew how to charm adults; she'd been doing it all her life. Snape just happened to be a very tricky individual to charm. "What's the next question?"

"What is your favourite colour?"

"Green," Daisy said, glancing at her fingernails which were painted lime green which was supposedly a very "in" colour right now. According to YWW even the Minister for Magic had been spotted wearing it! Fashion considerations aside, they'd ruled out pink as it was much too close to lilac, any shades of purple, blue or red and had a heated debate as to whether black could be considered a colour. (Her argument of 'Snape thinks it is!' failed to prove her point.) "So, you can imagine then how happy I was to find myself in Slytherin! I get to wear my favourite colour every single day when I'm at school. And what better way to show off my Slytherin pride! And I'd wink there. May I wink at her or is that not allowed?"

"You may wink at her," Levi-Strauss said dryly. "What is your favourite thing about being in Slytherin?"

"Apart from my Head of House being my legal guardian? I'm joking! Don't write that. Professor Snape would not like to be mentioned in Young Witch Weekly. If I get a month's detention I'm blaming you! Ha ha ha – conspiring giggle, and then I pause and say: Erm, I would have to say that it's the same thing that drew me to Slytherin from the very start – we're the best. We're a combination of all the Hogwarts Houses really: smart, loyal, hard-working and pragmatically brave."

"What is it like being the only Muggleborn in a House traditionally known for being anti-Muggleborn?"

"I don't really think House Slytherin is anti-Muggleborn – just some of the people in it, and sometimes that's understandable. The wizarding world and the muggle world haven't always meshed. Take what I'm wearing now? A Muggle would wrinkle their nose up at it, but it's the best of wizarding fashion. Is wizarding fashion anti-Muggleborn? No, it's just something else."

"You didn't answer the question," Levi-Strauss said. "Skeeter will change that answer to something along the lines of 'Dursley looks away uncomfortably and changes the subject abruptly leaving this reporter wondering if there's something she's hiding'. As you pointed out, we have been through this."

"I thought you wanted me to be evasive when it came to stuff like that! Make up your mind!"

"Daisy!" Petunia snapped.

"Mum – stop snapping at me."

"Then stop being so rude."

"Fine – whatever," Daisy muttered, pulling a face when her sulking slump caused Moxy to pull on her hair slightly. "Then I'll say that it's hard being a Muggleborn Slytherin – for a lot of reasons. There aren't any other Muggleborns and I sometimes get accused of being a self-hating Muggleborn, which isn't fair at all because it's not that I don't want to be friends with them – just that – if you've gone to Hogwarts, you know what I mean – Houses don't really mix. And my Housemates and I grew up in different worlds, so we all have to make an effort to understand where we came from, which we don't always do. I'm pretty stubborn and that goes for a lot of my Housemates too."

"Good, very good. If you had to pick between the wizarding world and the Muggle world which would you choose?"

"The wizarding world, obviously. I'm a witch, so that's where I belong. I just wish there was some in-between area. My Mum and brother are Muggles, my cousin's a half-blood – surely there should be more places that the two words meet other than one car park in Diagon Alley?"

"Too political," Levi-Strauss said. "Just keep it short, and you can defend yourself later if you have to. What's your favourite thing about the wizarding world?"

"Magic! You can't really expect me to pick one, can you? I love Quidditch – good luck to the English National Team on next month's qualifiers! Gobstones is next, followed by Cauldron Cakes which I could eat all-"

"Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans are your favourite."

Daisy pulled a face. "But they're not - they're gross."

"They do, however, offer sponsorships and if a Quidditch career was something you were seriously considering…"

"It isn't," Petunia interjected. "Daisy will not be doing anything for a living that involves animate objects flying at her head. Daisy is going to be a Healer – something respectable for a young witch her age."

"I bet you'd let Harry do it," Daisy pointed.

"Harry doesn't pester me for a broom every waking moment of the day."

"Maybe that's because Harry happened to get a broom in his first year which broke the rules for breaking the rules." She turned back to a bored Levi-Strauss, who was used to this shifting dynamic now. He had yet to decide if it was just Daisy being Daisy or Daisy hitting puberty, or both. "Okay, so I like Bertie Botts because they're so much fun and I'll give an example of a game like eating Bertie Botts and the first one to pull a face at the taste loses. Next question?"

Since answering the questions seemed to be easier than sulking and being difficult, she continued to play the game, answering the questions with a more than the necessary amount of false excitement. Apart from a few tweaks here and there to her answers ("Don't you dare tell Rita Skeeter that Severus is quite possibly a vampire!") she felt quite ready to face this Skeeter woman. She couldn't be that bad, could she? The woman wrote fluff and gossip pieces – it wasn't like Daisy was about to be interrogated by an internationally revered political correspondent renown for tearing political discourse apart.

"Now, this I can work with," Daisy declared as she stepped out from behind the dressing screens where she was trying on her third outfit of the day and time slowly ticking away. The first outfit had been neon pink pleated tunic with lime green embellishments and to be worn with long shorts in the same vile shade of green that made her look like a back-up dancer on those old music videos that sometimes popped up on MTV. The second outfit, composed of a flowing white top paired with glittering trousers, had been a slight improvement.

The third time was a charm: a long summer dress, with a ruched top that settled just off the shoulders and a yellow woven leather belt tied around the waist. She'd had Moxy weave daisies into her complicated twists of braids and when she'd finally looked in the mirror instantly she felt…happier. It did look like she was about to frolic into the meadows, what with her tan sandals and jangling bangles, but in a good way.

"A Daisy wearing daisies," Levi-Strauss commented, his pale green eyes watching her intently. "I like it. It suits you."

"You look beautiful!" Petunia gushed. "I haven't seen you like this since – I haven't seen you like this in so long. My beautiful, beautiful Daisy-bear. There is no way that Ms Skeeter won't just absolutely love you."

"Well, according to someone whose name I won't mention she'll crucify me in the tabloids for the slightest mistake." Daisy turned away from her mother's disapproving look to get one more look in the mirror. "Mum?"

"Yes, honey?"

"If Dad was here, what do you he'd think of it?"

Petunia seemed taken aback by the question, and in the moment it took for her to organise her thoughts, there was a knock at the door. "Ms Skeeter has arrived at the front desk."

"Do not mess this up," Levi-Strauss said as Moxi set about clearing up the last few things and getting the room set up for the interview. "Rita Skeeter is an old friend, but there is only so much I can do to help you. And for Merlin's sake, try and pretend you're not a moody teenager."

"You always have such confidence in me," Daisy said, rolling her eyes at him. "It's an interview. I'm not running for Minister for Magic."

Though as she said that, she did take deep breaths, firmly getting into the character. She was happy; she had good days and bad days, and today was a good day because she was so excited to be given an opportunity to appear in her favourite magazine. She loved her dress, she loved Bertie Botts and she loved the wizarding world. She was approachable and fun, she was a nice normal young witch who had just been through some trying times. She missed the image she had of her father every day and she was grateful with every inch of her heart for what both the Muggleborn Welfare Division and the Improper Use of Magic Office had done for her – she wouldn't be there if it wasn't for them.

She opened her eyes just as the door opened to reveal a blonde woman in a sleeveless green leather dress, with a fur scarf incongruent to the summer weather outside. Daisy took in every inch of her, from the oddly stiff tight blonde curls that framed a strong square-jawed face, the painted on eyebrows sitting above glamourous black glasses studded with rhinestones, the long red fingernails that seemed even more vicious against the green of the dress, to the-

"Daisy? Are you alright?"

Daisy barely registered the question, her hand grasping at the blinding pain in her head. She tried to take a steadying breath but she couldn't fight it, she couldn't clear her mind past the pain, shake the overwhelming feeling of being suffocated by the insistent darkness that had begun to fight its way in since she had caught sight of Skeeter's snakeskin black shoes.

"Get her to the sofa – can she hear you?"

The more she fought it, the more she struggled against the slow inching of the inky darkness across her mind and vision – IamDaisyDursleyIamincontrolIamDaisyDursleyIamincontrol - the more the pain increased, until there was only the thick heavy darkness. For a moment she was aware, aware of her body giving way and slumping to the side, and the grasp of someone trying to keep her up -

"Daisy!"

"How could you do that? That was vile! Right on top of me! How could you?"

Lockhart seemed unfazed by Daisy's outburst, continuing to clean and make the bed without so much as looking at her. "It's the nature of their relationship," he said simply. "She would have gotten suspicious otherwise."

"I don't care!" Daisy snapped. "That was – that – I'm going to have nightmares about that for years! You – you – you disgust me! You're disgusting! You did that on top of me! I heard you – ugh! You're so gross."

"I'm surprised."

Daisy's was stunned by this response and frowned at him. "By what?"

"How prudish you are. You're fully aware of how pretty you are and you're aware that you have an effect on members of the opposite sex and yet…" She stepped back as he turned to her, advancing on her. She could feel the gentle brush of him probing her mind as he looked down at her, his tall broad-shouldered frame towering over her. "You've never felt it to be yours though, have you?" She shivered when he placed a hand on her face, his thumb ghosting over her lips. "He stole your first kiss. And he wanted to steal so much more from you – if it wasn't for your brother, he would have, wouldn't he? He wanted you from the moment he first saw you."

"S-stop it," Daisy said. She wanted so much to tear away from him but knew by now that would be like asking for exactly what he feared he would do. "Please."

"You're afraid of me, aren't you? Though I don't blame you with me in this body. The things that Lockhart would have done to you…"

He let his hand drop, and she watched him nervously as he took a seat on the bed. Her heart raced as he begun to unbutton his shirt until it fell open, revealing Lockhart's tanned toned chest to which the dark leather diary was strapped.

"Come here," he said. "Give me your hand."

Though she walked towards him, she was reluctant to extend a hand. "Why?"

"I fancy a walk somewhere other than this disgusting district. And while we're there, I'll tell you exactly what you should do to that Mason boy to have him pay for daring to lay a single finger on you."

"Will it work this way?"

"There's only one way to find out," he said, looking at her expectantly.

Now sure he wasn't about to hurt her, she slowly reached over to him, her fingers spreading over leather that felt warm to the touch. He closed his eyes at her touch, and for a moment she thought it hadn't worked, but then there was the usual feeling of air swirling around them, and they were engulfed by whiteness. She didn't realise she'd clenched her eyes shut until she opened them to find that they were stood on the side of a cliff, the waters lapping at the sides below them.

"It worked," she said, turning to look for him. "Tom, it worked!"

"I hadn't noticed," he said from the large rock he liked to us as his perch. Daisy felt only relief to see the dark-haired young man sat there and not Lockhart, though her cheeks reddened at his state undress. Apparently in the transition he hadn't thought to button up his shirt.

"Shall we – shall we go for that walk?"

He watched her for a moment before pushing himself off the rock and walking towards her, a rare mischievous grin on his face. "You fancy me, don't you?"

"No!" Daisy said, though she knew from the heat of her face that she had turned a Weasley red. "Of course I don't!"

"I predict," Tom started, as he ignored her spluttering and intertwined Daisy's arm with his own, leading them down a familiar path, "that one day, you and I will be together. We understand one another and I suppose I could share the world with you once it is mine – one half each. But before that happens – and it will – I predict you will fall for somebody else. He will break your heart and you'll vow never to love again, but you will heal and love another. He won't be right for you either unfortunately. And do you know why?" She shook her head, momentarily captivated by his prediction. "Because there will never be anyone like me."

"Are you some sort of psychic now? Sixteen year old ancient evil warlock not good enough for you?"

"Divination is a rich and diverse branch of magic, one that is often overlooked and ridiculed to the detriment of those who do so, but no, I am not 'some sort of psychic'. I simply know you well enough by now to tell you where you're headed."

"How could you possibly know me well enough to predict my future?" Daisy demanded. She couldn't tell if he was winding her up or not or if she liked his prediction or not. Her and Tom?

"I've been you, Daisy," Tom reminded her. "Even if it was only for a few hours, I know you." He paused, bringing them to a sudden stop. He frowned as he looked surveyed at her. "I'm sorry, that's a lie – I don't know you. Not as well as I'd like to – not enough, not yet - but I hope I'm right anyway."

Daisy knew instinctively not to push it, though she felt a good part of the annoyance she'd held for him earlier dissipating a little. They walked along the path, taking in the salt air and the blue skies that he created for them. It was most definitely better than where they were currently staying and all felt so real – Daisy wasn't surprised that he could trap people in here. He was so easy to trust even though he made it quite clear how dangerous he was. And despite everything, the knowledge that he could hurt her, or trap her down here, or the disgusting thing he had just done – right above her no less – this was the most relaxed she'd felt since they left Hogwarts.

"The Mason boy-" Tom began when they reached the bench at the top of the hill. From there you could look down at the seaside town below, and with the sound of the sea beside them it was a relaxing view.

"I can deal with him myself," Daisy interrupted as she sat down on the bench. "I'll find a way."

"I don't doubt you will but surely you can listen to ideas, can you not? After all, I've been in the revenge business much longer than you have."

"You're only a sixth year, even if you've been one for absolute ages."

"You'll be surprised by how much more you'll have learned by your sixth year. You'll look back at this moment and realise how young and naïve you were. Who knows – you might even miss it." He turned so his body faced her, dark blue eyes scrutinising her. "So, Miss Dursley, do you want my input or not?"

"Do I have a choice?" she asked.

"You always have a choice, Daisy, you know that," Tom said, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair that had been whipped into her face behind her ear. "It's just up to you to decide which one I'll deem the right one."

A/N: And so begins third year! I told myself that this was going to be a fluff year for Daisy - keep it chill, no drama - so what do I do? Start the year with her discovering who opened the Chamber and that faux-Lockhart-You-Know-Who has a name! That's just how I roll. Next, she'll be discovering that goblins also hate Purebloods and aligning with them after discovering that she's a descendant of Godric Gryffindor and the key to the survival of the wizarding world is her making babies with the Heir of Slytherin. Ha.

Thank you all for reading! A massive thank you to all those who leave lovely reviews and a big virtual hug to all those who have stuck by me from the beginning. Until next time!