Defense Against the Dark Arts was a problem.
While Daphne - by virtue of her heritage and House affiliation - didn't share the rest of the school's vitriol towards Professor Umbridge, she couldn't deny, after going nearly an entire year without casting a single spell in Defense, that passing her OWL would be a challenge. Even in Slytherin, there were quiet grumblings of concern over how career trajectories might be impacted by the High Inquisitor's stubborn refusal to teach, regardless of the favouritism she showered on their House.
A black market of OWL and NEWT study materials had existed at Hogwarts for at least as long as Daphne had attended, but this year the demand had skyrocketed, and with it, the price inflated to epic proportions. The few Slytherin housemates that were willing to entertain selling them to her quoted eye-watering rates, even for someone as wealthy as she; those were the ones that wanted gold, that is. Graham Montague had suggested trading his DADA notes in exchange for- well, needless to say, if she weren't pants at Defense, she would have hexed him sideways for even thinking she'd agree to such scandalous behaviour.
None of the Ravenclaws were willing to part with their materials, even when Daphne offered - in her opinion - exorbitant amounts of gold. This was likely some form of blowback from her role in the implosion of Harry and Chang's Valentine's date. It was unfortunate, though, given that Ravenclaws always took the best notes.
She made a few queries with Hufflepuffs and even approached a Sixth Year Gryffindor that had been making eyes at her since she'd come back from the Yule holiday. None of them had any study materials for sale and appeared perplexed at the very question.
It didn't make any sense. Why was no one outside of Slytherin concerned about their DADA practical examinations?
So, as March came and went, Daphne found herself spending more and more time in the library, reading up on spells normally taught in the Fifth Year curriculum, miming the wand movements with her hand and mumbling the incantations.
"Interesting reading?" She glanced up, seeing Harry looking down on her, Granger standing off to the side. While he wore an easy smile, his friend looked uneasy. "'The Standard Book of Spells, Year Five'. That's a good one, but you'd better not let Umbridge see you reading it."
"We've only got a few months left before our OWLs," Daphne mumbled, glancing down at her notes.
"Having trouble? What's that, the Ignition Hex? Need a hand?"
"Harry…" Granger warned.
"What?" he responded. "Nothing wrong with offering some help, is there?"
"We all promised to keep it secret."
His smile faltered, and he glanced over his shoulder towards Granger. "I know that. What am I doing wrong by offering to help, by myself?"
"You'd help me? You know these spells?"
"I've had good reason to study ahead over the years," he replied, grin turning crooked as Granger scoffed behind him. "So, want to find an empty classroom and give it a go?"
Her eyebrows raised. "Sure," she immediately answered, trying to hide her amusement. 'Typical boy' she thought. "Do you mind if I put these books away first? We can meet in twenty minutes, in the unused Potions storeroom one floor beneath the Great Hall."
Harry agreed, although his smile faded as Granger practically dragged him away, whispering harshly to him the moment they were out of earshot. Daphne waited for them to leave before rushing out of the library, leaving the books she'd pulled where they were. She had to hurry.
Several weeks of exercise had paid off, and she was barely out of breath by the time she got to her dorm room, stripping off her robes, jumper, and skirt, tossing each item of clothing haphazardly onto her bed. A light application of cosmetics - a touch of rouge dusting her cheeks to add some colour, mascara to make her eyelashes appear longer, and the lightest sheen of lip gloss to catch the light.
Daphne pulled out her favourite of the new dresses from Madam Malkin's, a grey, knee-length bell-sleeved design with an asymmetrical décolletage that offered a tantalizing display of the swell of her right breast. It was probably still a size too small; she had to suck in her waist to zip it up, and it pinched uncomfortably under her arms, but she could finally wear it - and just in time.
Nonetheless, the discomfort was worth it. She looked fabulous.
Muttering a spell Elysant had taught her that quickly knit a halo braid along her hairline, she grabbed the rest of her thick black hair and used the plait to lock in a messy bun. Replacing her trainers with grey, black-toed ballet flats, she was ready for their date.
Harry was already waiting when she arrived, unsurprising despite the abandoned storeroom only being one floor up from the Slytherin dormitories. Judging by the way his eyebrows raised, though, surely he'd agree she was worth the wait.
"So…" she started nervously, feeling awkward and uncomfortable now that the moment was finally here. "I'm glad you came."
"Did you- were you wearing that beneath your robes?"
With a practiced swirl she spun in a circle, the hem of her dress rising just enough to reveal a glimpse of her thighs. "Of course!"
Harry didn't immediately reply, stepping closer with his eyes well south of meeting her own. Daphne tried unsuccessfully to stem her anxiety; wasn't this what she'd been working so hard to accomplish? Why did she feel this way, now that the moment was finally here?
He reached out for her with both hands, and she couldn't stop herself from drawing a deep breath. What was wrong with her? This was for Astoria! What sort of sister did it make her that she was so reluctant to endure some clumsy gropes and a few snogs in exchange for a cure?
Still, despite her mind's rationalizations, Daphne hated the look of concentration on his face, the way he wasn't even looking her in the eye, how he didn't even try to kiss her before setting free his wandering hands. It wasn't how she'd imagined he'd be, wasn't-
"These will be a problem, and trust me when I say you don't want to cast a flame spell without pinning them back first," he said, rolling up the loose sleeves of her dress that extended to her knuckles. "The last thing we need is you running out of here with your dress on fire. Can you imagine the rumours?"
He let out a genuine laugh following that statement, but the best she could muster was a weak chuckle in reply. "Pardon?"
"We're working on the Ignition Hex first, right?"
Wait.
All of her discomfort vanished, replaced with outrage and indignation. 'He actually brought me here to study?!' With how she looked? In a dress so tight it was cutting off circulation, with a scandalous view of her cleavage, and Harry-bloody-Potter wanted to work on spell-casting?
"You- you… absolute berk!" She sputtered. "How can you- I worked so hard to-"
Daphne, choking on her rage, couldn't seem to finish a sentence but in the face of her anger Harry recoiled. "What's wrong?"
But with her frustration boiling over, she couldn't manage a coherent reply, instead shoving him backward, spinning on her heel, and storming furiously out of the room and back to her dorm. Not bothering to disguise her angry mutters, she unzipped her dress and flounced onto her bed, punching her pillow and wishing it was Potter's big, stupid face she was striking.
"You look nice," Tracey spoke from across the dormitory, seated in her own bed with an open book in her lap. "Did you have a date?"
Daphne pushed herself up, quickly looking to the other beds, making sure they were all deserted before replying. "I thought I did."
"With Potter?" Tracey, seeing her features shift into a suspicious look, quickly went on. "I won't tell anyone. It's not like I have any secrets left to protect, anyway."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. It hasn't been- Pansy watches out for me. I guess it probably would have come out eventually, anyway," Tracey said, toying with the corner of the page she was reading. "So you're really going out with Potter?"
"No. He's- he's a complete dunderhead! I mean, I put in so much effort, and he didn't even- ugh! Why are boys so stupid?" Tracey stared for several moments, and as the silence stretched on, Daphne couldn't take it. "What are you looking at?"
The quiet, reserved girl shook her head, looking away. "Nothing."
She had to bite back the insult at the tip of her tongue, that of course Tracey wouldn't know anything about boys. While Daphne had changed quite a bit this term, at that moment she was angry and frustrated. "What is it?" she finally asked, the venom in her voice fading with considerable effort.
"It's just- I guess I'm surprised, is all," Tracey replied, almost wistfully. "You actually like him, don't you? It's not some- I mean, I didn't expect it to be real."
"What? I don't-"
'Oh Merlin and Morgana above'
Was that why she was so disappointed tonight? First, at Harry's lack of 'romance', and then at his casual disregard for her appearance - because, what, he'd- he was…
A shadow fell over her, and Tracey patted her shoulder. "He'll come around."
This wasn't part of the plan.
Harry eyed her warily when she walked into Potions on Monday morning, stepping past him with her chin up and head held high. Granger whispered something in his ear as she passed, and from the corner of her eye, she saw an embarrassed flush break out on his face. 'Good' she thought, 'he should feel guilty over spurning her advances'
She was too ashamed to admit to Elysant what had happened over the weekend, which meant that Daphne spent several days trying to work out for herself what her next move should be. Thankfully, as she found later on while taking her seat in Arithmancy, it turned out she didn't have to do anything at all.
"Here."
Daphne glanced down at the parchment that Granger set down in front of her, momentarily pausing in pulling out her Arithmancy materials as the muggleborn settled into her usual seat at the front of the class.
"What's this?"
"Harry asked me to give them to you. It's a copy of our notes from earlier in the year."
She glanced through the stack of parchment. "Some of this is pretty advanced. What are you doing learning this kind of magic?"
Granger aimed a patronizing stare at her rather than respond, and Daphne's eyes widened. "Right, of course. Thank you."
Class began, and the two girls focused on Professor Vector's lecture. It wasn't until they received their assignment for the rest of the period that their conversation began again, initiated for the first time ever by the Gryffindor.
"I'm sorry," she started, reluctance laced through every hushed syllable. "I was sure that you were working for Umbridge, or maybe even for- for someone worse."
Daphne put her quill down and turned to face her as she continued. "I guess the idea that you actually- um, you know, fancied him seemed too bizarre to be possible. So, I'm sorry."
"Thank you, that means a lot coming from you." And it really did - having Granger supportive of her pursuing Harry was a huge win for her end goal. "Does this mean I can call you Hermione?"
They stared at each other, both with uneasy expressions. "We should probably get back to work, Greengrass."
In Potions that afternoon, while brewing a Deflating Draught, Daphne nudged Harry's shoulder with her own.
"Thanks. The notes are pretty comprehensive."
He shrugged, pretending to focus intently on his stirring. "It was really more Hermione's effort than mine."
"You think I don't know that? Your handwriting is terrible!" They both smiled. "But I also know that Granger never would have given them to me voluntarily if you hadn't pushed her to. I'm grateful."
"Well, my offer still stands, if you ever need some pointers. I'm sorry about the, um, the misunderstanding," he said, his cheeks turning a dull shade of red.
"Potter!" A shadow fell over the two of them, and Daphne glanced up as Professor Snape opened his mouth, likely to deduct points from Harry or assign him a detention for chatting. Rather than say anything, his gaze briefly flicked to her, then he swept past to berate Weasley for 'breathing heavily' into his cauldron.
Although Harry grimaced at the lecture his mate endured, he mouthed 'phew!' and mimed wiping sweat from his brow. "Guess you're my anti-Snape Shield Charm," he whispered.
"Don't you forget it, Potter," she replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
This time when their shoulders touched, Daphne didn't move away.
Easter break was quickly approaching, less than a week away. Daphne was sitting near - not necessarily with - Tracey in the common room, sharing the notes that Granger had passed along. She was marking down spells that she'd not managed to successfully cast, making a list she planned on presenting to Harry with a request for another meeting; this time, without the misunderstanding.
"Where is everybody?" Tracey murmured, barely audible from the next table over.
Daphne looked around, realizing she was right - there were almost no students Fifth Year and above in the common room, only her, Tracey, Vaisey, Zabini, and the Bole siblings. It wasn't much of a concern, however; the quiet was actually preferable, her studies made easier without the melancholy that came from having to witness Pansy holding court from the outside looking in.
Tracey's question was answered soon enough, though, as the portal opened and their housemates came streaming in, led by Draco, all of them exuberant with a celebratory air.
"-fell flat on his face, even knocked those stupid glasses off!"
Pansy clutched at Draco's arm, looking ready to haul off and snog him senseless right there. "It was a perfect hit, you really are an incredible wizard!"
"-skid a half-dozen feet on the stone floor, looked like he'd been hit by a bludger!
"-spoke with the Headmistress a few minutes ago, she asked for some volunteers to post notices around the school-"
The common room quickly took on an almost party-like atmosphere, as though they'd just won the Quidditch Cup. Something big had happened, of that there was no doubt, but she was too intimidated by the wild mood to draw attention to the fact she'd missed out on whatever was going on.
Gathering her notes and materials, Daphne crept out of the common room, slinking up the stairs and drawing the curtains around her bed.
Answers quickly came the next morning, from flyers hung all over the school during the night, announcing Professor Umbridge's ascension to the position of Headmistress. The rumours told tales of Potter organizing some sort of militia at Dumbledore's request; supposedly, their former Headmaster had engaged in an epic battle with Ministry aurors before escaping in the dead of night.
Outside of the Slytherin table, breakfast in the Great Hall was subdued with the aura of a wake. Harry looked particularly forlorn, head down and occasionally nodding in response to Granger's frantic whispers, while Weasley glared at the Ravenclaw table with all the fury of a Killing Curse.
If only she could talk with Harry! Weasley might have to find another seat in double-Potions; Daphne needed to find out what exactly went on last night. Unfortunately, Pansy stiffly handed over summons to the Headmistress' office immediately following breakfast.
"What's this about? Am I in some sort of trouble?"
She thought Pansy might ignore her, at first. "The Headmistress is looking for volunteers among the right sort of students. I had Draco mention your name; don't make me regret it."
"Okay," she replied, wanting to know more but too pleased to press for answers after her first interaction with her former best friend in months.
To her surprise, Pansy led her not to the Headmaster's office but to the same quarters Professor Umbridge had used since assuming the DADA post. Dancing kittens decorated rows of plates and dishware around the office, and the newly minted Headmistress wore a look of unabashed triumph.
"Thank you, Miss Parkinson, you may return to class." Pansy nodded and left the room, fixing Daphne with one last hard look. "Daphne - may I call you Daphne, dear? - I'm so pleased you could meet with me."
"Um, of course, Professor. I wasn't told what this was about, though."
"There will be some changes at Hogwarts in the coming months. All good things, of course, but I'm afraid that subversive elements may resist the Ministry's efforts at cleaning up the former administration's mess," Umbridge summoned a house elf, who set a tray of biscuits on the desk. "I've therefore decided to create an Inquisitorial Squad to help me root out such troublemakers."
"An Inquisitorial Squad, ma'am?"
"Yes, made up of the students from trustworthy families. Naturally, Mr. Malfoy will be leading this group but a number of your classmates have already agreed to assist me. As an inquisitor, you'd have the ability to add or remove House points, assign detentions, and in exchange for your efforts will get the most glowing letter of recommendation you could imagine to take with you in the future. Have you ever considered a career with the Ministry, Daphne?"
She blinked. It sounded like this new student disciplinary group would have even greater powers than the Head Boy and Girl. "I- of course but I think I'd more likely take over my father's business."
"Yes, yes, Cyril is tremendously successful, and from such a fine bloodline. You know, dear, the Sacred Twenty-Eight was very nearly the Sacred Twenty-nine, but my grandfather made the mistake of offending old Cantankerous Nott, and so the Umbridges were excluded. It's all politics, really; but trust me when I say I appreciate the nobility in your blood."
How was she supposed to respond to that? "Thank you."
"Still though, Mr. Malfoy did mention some business about a passing interest you had in one Harry Potter. Why, if I didn't know him better I might have thought him telling lies; imagine, a young woman with your poise and elegance, besotted with his ilk! Surely he was mistaken…?" Umbridge trailed off, her beady eyes narrowed and piercing as she waited for Daphne to answer.
She swallowed with some difficulty, her throat suddenly dry. "No, ma'am. I mean, yes, he was mistaken."
"Excellent! I knew that Miss Parkinson wasn't incorrect in recommending you! Here, this is yours," she slid a golden badge in the shape of an upper-case "I" across the desk. "I expect great things from you, Daphne. And remember - I gave you those powers to use at your discretion; do what you think is best, and worry about permission later."
"I understand."
"Before I let you get back to class, I was wondering if there are any potential inquisitors I may have overlooked? Can never have too much support when it comes to stamping out seditious lies, after all."
Daphne pursed her lips, weighing whether or not to make a suggestion. "I think that Tracey Davis would be a valuable addition. I've shared a room with her for five years now, and she's loyal and kind."
"Davis, Davis… brown hair, rather tall and willowy?" Daphne nodded. "She wouldn't by any chance descend from a cadet line of the Davies family, would she? Fine family, the Davies…"
"No ma'am. Tracey is a half-blood."
Umbridge's face twisted in utter revulsion for a split second, then she coughed daintily into her hand. "I'll take your recommendation under advisement. That will be all, Miss Greengrass."
Exiting the office, Daphne leaned against the closed door and exhaled heavily.
"Glad to see you made the right choice."
Nearly jumping out of her skin in surprise, she turned to see Pansy waiting nearby. "You never went back to class?"
Pansy shrugged. "We're members of the Inquisitorial Squad, I'm sure we'll get a lot of leeway."
"Still, we've got OWLs this year. I don't think we should be skiving off our work like that."
"Fine," the two started walking together down to the dungeons, side by side just like old times. "Merlin, you've turned into such a bore, haven't you?"
'Yep, just like old times' "My parents would lose their minds if I get below an Acceptable on any of my OWLs. You know how they are."
"Draco says it's not what you know, it's who you know. I can have him ask his father to put in a good word for you with the examiners, if you like."
"That's okay."
Pansy glared at her briefly, clearly taking offence at her refusal but brightened as they approached the Potions classroom. "Oh, I'm so glad you've come to your senses. I swear if I had to sit with Bulstrode and Davis much longer, I'd have gone spare. You know those two combined don't have two brain cells to rub together!" She looped her arm through Daphne's. "The gals in green are back together again!"
Professor Snape gave them a brief nod as they entered, Pansy dragging her towards her old seat in the third row. Apparently, Daphne was a glutton for punishment, as she couldn't contain a worried stare at the three Gryffindors in the front row.
Granger softly gasped at the golden badge she wore, her face morphing from surprise to outright fury. And Harry, he- it was like she watched his expression harden in real-time, emerald eyes flickering between her, Pansy, and the Inquisitorial badge.
Trying to calm the anxiety burbling inside her, Daphne silently promised herself she'd make up for this, that she'd explain how everything turned out this way.
'We can't all be Gryffindors, after all'
A/N: Next chapter - OWLs!
First off, a fic rec for you guys: 'Drowning in Darkness' by Asmodeus Stahl. It's a dark!Harry/Katie fic, from Katie's POV, and the author's first foray into HP (from Percy Jackson). Only 1 chapter so far, but I really want more, so shower them with reviews for me, won't you? Hopefully that will get them writing again :D
Speaking of, I had several reviews questioning why Daphne doesn't just tell Harry the situation with Astoria and the bloodline curse. While I agree that it's Harry's nature to be sympathetic, it is VERY unrealistic that he would be able to help, even if he wanted to. 'A Potter has to love a Greengrass' - Daphne confessing the problem to Harry would likely make it impossible for him to actually love her, knowing that the pressure of failing would mean a little girl died. You can't make yourself love someone, after all, and Harry knowing what was going on would cast a pall over their relationship. So... no, she won't be telling him, and honestly I'd say that's the right move.
I wonder if anyone will be frustrated over Daphne's capitulation in joining the Inquiz Squad. Sure, she's something of a coward; but who wouldn't be in her situation? Despite Harry/Hr slowly warming to her, and Tracey kind of starting to be friendly, Daphne is utterly alone at Hogwarts. It would be pretty intimidating to turn down not only the personal request of the new Headmistress (putting a target on her own back from the other inquisitors), but also to turn away the possibility of reviving her friendship with Pansy. After all, Harry took Ron back after he abandoned him to face Voldemort alone in DH. Why wouldn't Daphne take Pansy back?