Book Two ― A School Divided
Chapter Forty-Three ― The Duality of Daphne Greengrass
Note: This chapter has been beta-ed by user Outliner.
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Harry eagerly awaited for the students to arrive in the Great Hall, and as they began flooding the school after their shortened break, he looked for Daphne's face in the room. She was one of the last ones to arrive, as were many of his Gryffindor friends, including Neville, Hermione and Ron, who arrived speaking casually together even though the redhead seemed to quieten as soon as he saw Harry. Daphne's face brightened when she saw Harry, and she sent a wink and a signal that they would speak later. Harry felt a bit sad that they couldn't talk immediately but knew that it wasn't wise for them to be a couple openly, no matter their wishes. And in truth, he missed his friends, and as a group of them approached him with animated conversation, he did not need to fake any of his enthusiasm.
"Hey, Harry," Hermione was the first to greet him, giving him a lengthy embrace. He felt a bit awkward midway through it and remembered that he had to speak with the girl as soon as possible about his relationship with Daphne.
"Harry," Neville nodded in his direction, and Harry grinned at him, only to be slightly surprised by how pale and distant he seemed.
"Are you alright, Neville?" Harry asked concernedly. The other boy hummed affirmingly, but Harry was unconvinced. He'd try and speak with the boy soon too. Ron had used Hermione's hug to sneak by Harry to the Gryffindor Tower, but other people had come to greet him. Before they could do so, McLaggen tried to crash into Harry's shoulder, but Harry just pivoted out of the way and leveled a glare that sent the sneering older Gryffindor away.
"What a bellend," Ernie said disapprovingly.
"He's always been this way," Tracey shrugged neutrally. Hermione eyed the girl warily, either because she thought the Slytherin was interested in Harry or because she was Daphne's closest friend. "It'd be more impressive if he wasn't so daft."
"I do not recall seeing him at the top of any lectures of his year," Justin spoke pensively, furrowing his brow to try and visualize them.
"That's because he's not there," Hermione proclaimed casually. When everyone looked at her curiously, she flushed slightly and explained a bit abashedly, but with an undeniable undercurrent of pride. "I memorized the lists."
"For all years?" Neville asked, impressed.
"It's only ten people for each subject," Hermione shrugged weakly before defending herself more firmly. "It's interesting information."
"Ten people for each subject for every year," Hannah added, eyeing Hermione as though she was from another planet.
"Only you, Hermione," Harry spoke fondly, shaking his head in amusement. His friend smiled at the words, and Susan looked at him warningly. When Hermione wasn't looking, Harry nodded minutely towards the Hufflepuff redhead, and she received the message. Unbeknownst to Harry, Neville had witnessed the entire exchange and was eyeing Harry with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
"Speaking of which, are you excited for the lists this upcoming year?" Justin asked. "I promised my family that I would be better this year, and I'm excited to see the results."
"I'm happy with my placement," Ernie spoke.
"Of course you would be. You got sixth" Hannah rolled her eyes at the boy, who smirked back.
"I think I'll be first again," Hermione said confidently.
"I don't think anyone's questioning that," Neville commented warmly, and Harry nodded in agreement. "Are you going for the top five, Harry?"
"I don't really care," he admitted, looking over at the mass of students, focusing on the first-years in animated conversation. "Honestly, I'm far more curious about the earlier years."
"Oh?" Ernie asked curiously, as the others also eyed Harry questioningly.
"Well, there are rumors that the first-years Muggleborns are doing exceptionally well," Harry spoke casually. Hermione tensed a bit but was able to maintain her composure. Harry's bluff also amused Tracey, who of course, knew some of what had happened over the summer.
"Yeah, I've seen Sprout and Flitwick rave about them," Hannah added, also turning to face the mass of newer students, who were excitedly asking their veterans about the Yule Ball. "The Slytherin girl, in particular. She's been with you a bit, right, Harry?"
"With Hermione as well," Harry pointed out, and the brunette nodded excitedly.
"She's very bright," Hermione praised her honestly.
"That's high praise, coming from you," Tracey spoke, and Hermione looked at her neutrally for a second before speaking.
"I always appreciate intelligent people," the words were polite, but the tone was decidedly tense, and Harry decided to cut through that conversation before it became an issue because he saw a glimmer in Tracey's eye that reminded him far too much of Daphne, and knew the Slytherin wouldn't take Hermione's tone without giving a response.
"There's also Luna Lovegood," Harry observed, adding to his previous comment about younger years. "She was first in an astounding amount of subjects last year, and there was the whole Ravenclaw bullying incident. I'd like to talk to her if I can."
"Why?" Ernie inquired.
"Intelligent people are interesting," Harry explained, and the Hufflepuff accepted it at face value. Harry's expression darkened as he continued. "And no one deserves to be bullied like that."
"Absolutely," Susan spoke passionately. Some in the group were less effusive in their agreement, but Tracey, Neville, and Hermione all nodded firmly, all having seen or being victims of the same things that afflicted Luna for years.
"Well, I'm sure you'll have a chance to speak with her," Hannah spoke, and Harry grinned in her direction with a nod.
"And how is your Durmstrang boy?" Harry teased her, his grin morphing into a smirk when her eyes lit up with a shy smile.
"He danced pretty well in the Ball, so we've decided to keep in touch for this year," she spoke a bit abashedly. "After that... well, I guess we'll see."
"Isn't he older than you?" Ernie asked, glaring in the general direction of the Durmstrang contingent, but was interrupted in his suspicions by Susan stepping viciously on his foot. As he rubbed his injury and hopped around in one leg, the redhead turned to her friend with an honest smile.
"He seemed like a nice guy, and everyone who can dance with you for that long is impressive," she spoke supportively. Hannah smiled thankfully in her direction, and a more casual conversation began from then on. When the groups began to separate by House, Harry managed to stick to Neville's side as Hermione finished a conversation with Susan and Macmillan.
"Neville, what happened?" Harry asked with the corner of his mouth.
"What do you mean?" The boy questioned and got his answer in the form of a glare from Harry. "I'm fine," he tried to defend himself with a grumble.
"Yes, people who are fine regularly appear pale and almost trembling when they come back to school," Harry deadpanned. Neville seemed to get a bit uncomfortable by the line of inquiry, so Harry continued more gently. "You don't need to tell me anything, but don't lie and say you're fine, Nev."
"It's just..." The boy trailed off, looking miserably distant before meeting Harry's eye fully, though he seemed full of sadness and mourning. "Every Yule break, I go visit my parents in St. Mungos."
Harry remembered his conversation with Susan about Neville's parents being comatose, and his inquisitive mood instantly died, being replaced by sorrowful regret. "And because of the Yule Ball..." he spoke, leaving a moment of silence hang awkwardly between them.
"I went yesterday," Neville spoke with an attempted smile that ended off as a grimace.
"Shit, I'm sorry, Neville," Harry responded softly. "I shouldn't have pried."
"It's fine. I know you're just concerned," Neville dismissed the apology, though he seemed thankful for it. He looked distant for a second as if he was musing something very important before he turned to Harry. "You know, I've often wondered if they'd be better off if they were dead. Isn't that an awful thing to think?" Neville asked, laughing self-derisively.
Hermione had finished the conversation, but one parrying look from Harry was enough to make her understand that something private was happening. She nodded and went away alone, making Harry feel a great deal of relief. Though he fully expected to be interrogated on the manner in the Common Room, Hermione's willingness to step away was a newfound development for which he was very thankful. The Hermione he had first befriended would have butted into the conversation, even if she held the best intentions in the world.
"I don't think so," Harry answered honestly, making the other boy look at him curiously from where he had been previously facing the ground. "I think I'd prefer my situation to yours if I can be honest."
"Yeah, I guess it can be better," Neville quietly spoke before he began to fiddle with something in his pockets. He took out a candy wrapper. "My mum gives them to me. She likes the sweets," he explained with a sad grin, pocketing the wrapper back again. "I think she wants to give something back, so she gives me the little papers. I like to believe that she knows who I am, but I don't think she does."
"And your father?" Harry questioned after a long minute of silence.
"Gone," Neville summed up sadly, with distant, unseeing eyes. Harry nodded minutely and stayed quietly by his friend's side. It took a minute before Neville looked down from the ceiling of the Great Hall. "But still, I know my parents are looked after. That's as much as I can hope for."
"I'm really sorry, Neville," Harry said, as supportively as he could.
"Don't be," Neville assured Harry before a look of actual fury overtook the boy's normally amicable face, the faintest smell of earth tickling Harry's nostril. "Bellatrix is rotting in Azkaban, and so are the Lestrange brothers. Crouch Jr. is dead."
"I'd like to see your parents, one day," Harry suggested meekly, hoping he wasn't offending the boy. "Your mother was my godmother. I'd like to think she'd raise me if things didn't go badly."
"Sure," Neville said more calmly, relaxing Harry, as he realized that Neville wasn't about to burst and that his request hadn't been insulting. "I've been to your parents' graves a couple of times."
"You have?" Harry asked, wide-eyed.
"Yes, but it's been a long time," Neville mused before looking speculatively at his friend. "You've never been, have you?"
"I've never had the chance," Harry almost whispered, thinking himself a terrible son. "I don't even know where they're buried."
"Godric's Hollow," Neville informed him. Harry remembered that strange poem that Luna had spoken about back in Halloween. Was it the same place? "Over the summer, we can go there together, and I'll take you to St. Mungo's when we can," he suggested.
"I'd like that," Harry grinned appreciatively. They began their journey to the Gryffindor dorms when Neville quietly spoke as they reached a place in the staircases where they were alone.
"I'm happy that I have some version of my parents to still see every year," he spoke quietly before finishing the sentence with a great deal of certainty. "But I would not like to live like that."
"I'd rather not live that way either," Harry spoke solemnly, and Neville hummed understandably. The rest of their journey upwards was silent and thoughtful.
Daphne approached Tracey as her friend entered the Slytherin Common Room.
"Call everyone to the furthest room to the second floor of the dungeons," the blonde whispered. Tracey furrowed her brows.
"When you say everyone, you mean?"
"Everyone," Daphne affirmed strongly before hesitating slightly. "Actually, just our people first. But try to make it so that everyone is at the Common Room in an hour."
"Okay," Tracey spoke slowly, watching her friend curiously as she walked away to the room she had assigned. Five minutes later, everyone who was more closely associated with Daphne was sitting in the abandoned lecture room on the second floor.
"Bole, this is for you," she whispered as he entered, handing him a letter. "It's from my father."
The boy's eyes lit up excitedly, and he nodded discreetly, putting the letter on the pockets of his robes to read later on in private.
"What's the meeting about?" Aileen asked curiously, leaning against a desk lazily. "I wasn't expecting a summons."
"It's not a summons, just an invitation to discuss some things," Daphne corrected lightly.
"Issued by one person, so it's a summons," Aileen shrugged uncaringly. "Call it what it is, Greengrass."
"I'm in no position to issue any summons or decrees. I just wanted to speak with all of you on important matters," Daphne defended herself, making the older girl snort.
"You're well in a position to issue summons or decrees, Greengrass, and you know that," the girl spoke dryly. "It's not like it's undeserved. I won't complain."
"Regardless of that, I would like to know why we're here," Blaise spoke up from the corner.
"You can hold back on flirting with people for a few minutes," Tracey admonished him.
"I had her, Tracey," Blaise whined petulantly.
"Sure you did," she spoke indulgently, earning herself a heated glare. Daphne did a poor job hiding her amusement, making the boy throw his hands in the air frustratedly before sitting down in a nearby chair with a sulking expression.
"Well?" Bole asked Daphne. The boy hadn't folded from her group after the incident with Snape, but that had been aided by the Potions Master completely losing it mid-term. Daphne and Tracey knew that the occurrence had shaken his belief in Daphne's ability to enact change, which is why the letter he held was so important. Hopefully, Bole would accept the offer.
"I think it's time that we take a more active role in shaping Slytherin as we want it to be," Daphne leaned forwards, looking at the other people there. Some of them, mainly amidst the older students, remained conservatively cautious, while the younger ones seemed interested.
"So, is that why you were talking to Father?" Astoria demanded, giving the impression to have just cracked a massively important code. The youngest of the Greengrass sisters knew perfectly well what had happened over the break and had even participated in a few discussions between her father and older sister. Daphne wanted to kiss her sister as she noted that the people who had shown muted enthusiasm towards her opening statement suddenly looked far more interested.
"Yes," Daphne confirmed succinctly. "We've had Malfoy and Montague on the ropes for a while now, and it's time to finish isolating them."
"Right now, after the dragon incident?" Bole questioned. "Slytherin is pretty divided at the moment, and so is the school. It wouldn't just be Malfoy that we'd be isolating. It would be everyone who sides against Potter."
"Which is why we need to move quickly," Daphne insisted. "Potter's performance was divisive, true, but his participation in the Yule Ball and the connection we all saw between him and Lord Smith were more than enough to quell the doubts of some of the more traditionally-minded Slytherins. But the more time we allow Draco to spout his nonsense, the more people will side with him."
"Is there not anyone who is defending Potter as vociferously as Draco is insulting him?" Aileen asked before catching sight of Tracey's raised eyebrow. "Other than Davis."
"The people in the younger years are mostly on his side," Astoria informed everyone. "A lot of them like Madeleine and Madeleine loves Harry."
"That's good for the future," Bole mused thoughtfully.
"Yes, it is," Daphne said with a great deal of satisfaction. The lectures they had given to the firsties had paid off just with Madeleine's popularity after the ambush on her. "It's why I feel so safe in pushing the button now. Lord Malfoy is busy with my father's pressure—"
Some people in the room looked pitifully at Astoria, remembering the contents of Cygnus's Speech and the malediction which they all knew affected her, but a growl from the young dark-haired girl was enough to make them refocus on her older sister, who watched the exchange with a sad brand of amusement.
"And won't be able to spend a lot of time rescuing Draco from his fuck-ups. I'm only worried about Montague," she finished, looking at the people around her.
"He will retaliate," Blaise summarized their thoughts.
"Nightmares?" Aileen suggested, but Daphne shook her head.
"We need a more definitive measure than that," she decided before smirking minutely in the girl's direction. "Even though I don't think we ought to stop if they get too loud."
Aileen smirked back as the older girl was decisively in favor of terrifying the people who had attacked Madeleine, more so than even Harry, who had come up with the idea in the first place.
"If you need a definitive measure, you need a political solution," Bole spoke up, and Daphne nodded.
"Which is why we're calling a general meeting in an hour," Daphne declared, and no one questioned her. "Without Slytherin's portrait."
This time, some people's eyebrows did rise questioningly, and Daphne interrupted some of their earliest complaints with her hand.
"The purpose of this meeting is to find ways to change Slytherin House for the better, and putting Salazar Slytherin's portrait there is just a way of reminding everyone of the glory days gone by," she argued decisively, convincing some people. Others, who were not so convinced, listened to her following words for added clarity. "And I need to establish my authority as being independent of being the girl who brought the portrait to the House."
"See?" Aileen grinned sharply at the girl. "Was it so hard to admit that the authority is yours?"
"I'd rather think it was ours," Daphne suggested lightly, but it was Tracey who shook her head.
"We all know that you're the most influential person here, Daph," she spoke softly, and many people around them agreed silently.
"She's just like Father, trying to convince people that he doesn't lead the Neutral faction," Astoria rolled her eyes at her sister, making Tracey snort amusedly.
"Anyway," Daphne said slowly, glaring at her younger sister, who looked unimpressed back at her, dark eyes meeting blue ones with no hesitation. "The purpose of this meeting isn't to introduce new changes to Slytherin House. That'd take far too much time and involve far too many people. The idea is to set about a plan which could motivate change. Create an institution for change, in other words," she spoke, remembering the book that Harry had given her back on their first day of conversation.
"So, you want to have us think about some way of making Slytherin be a more dynamic place in like an hour?" Blaise asked dryly. His response came in the form of two small folders, which Daphne took from the inside of her robes.
"My father and I came up with two plans over the break," she instructed. "You're welcome to review them or to come up with something new. It's just the first draft."
"Isn't it better to announce something once it's more concrete?" Sterling questioned with a confused frown.
"If we announce any details now, it'll give them an incentive to call their parents for advice," Daphne spoke.
"They don't know this plan is coming from Father, so they'll be thinking it came from Daphne instead," Astoria continued, in a slightly insulting manner to her sister, who looked at her with some anger. "What? You know that he's better at this than you."
"So, everyone will be assuming you have a short-term plan for just taking control of Slytherin House until you graduate and will make their plans accordingly," Bole figured the thought process out, and Daphne smiled approvingly in his direction.
"Which means that Montague and Malfoy will try to attack you," Blaise finished the argument, having followed it to the place where Daphne hoped no one would go, and when she didn't deny it, she was confronted with a horrified expression on Tracey's face. But it was nothing compared to what went on with Astoria.
"Absolutely not!" Her younger sister spoke resolutely, a protective, furious light in her eye. "Father would never approve of a plan which would put you in harm."
"He doesn't think that they would attack me," Daphne admitted quietly. "Thinks I'm too valuable to attack, particularly now the news about Snape's attack will come up on the front page of the Prophet."
"He doesn't know Montague very well," Blaise spoke dryly.
"And you didn't seem interested in correcting him," Tracey concluded bitterly, looking at Daphne angrily. "This is bullshit; I'm not putting you in danger."
"I won't be in danger. I'll have you all to protect me," Daphne argued.
"That is not enough," Blaise interrupted her before she could continue. "Montague alone can make a paste out of all of us, except for maybe Bole, and Malfoy still has a lot of people around him."
"You have more people by your side, but most of them are moderate and more politically-inclined than magically-inclined," Aileen spoke up in a pensive manner. She didn't seem as reluctant as Astoria or Tracey to accept Daphne's proposal but still seemed skeptical of it. "Malfoy's side is more fanatical than yours, more violent and prone to attack."
"And speak all you want about maybe me, but Montague is absolutely the strongest student in Slytherin," Bole uttered with a grave tone. "He's probably the second most powerful student in the school. Maybe third."
"Which brings us to a new topic, and why I think I'm safer than you believe," Daphne breathed out. She hesitated slightly and then looked at all of them with a great sense of fragility, which seemed to surprise some of them. "I understand that secrets are valuable, and this one is no exception. I might be a little naive telling you this, but I'm going to put a foot forward to prove that I'm committed to this with all of you, and I hope you won't deceive me."
She looked around and saw a sea of curious, intrigued people, some of which, namely Tracey and Astoria, already knew what she was about to say and were looking at Daphne supportively, even if they disapproved of her general idea of using herself as bait. The people in the room were all people who Daphne trusted and had accepted into her confidence, in the case of Tracey and Astoria, people she would kill and die for, if necessary. If anyone there would reveal the secret it would be Blaise, who was always a bit of a wildcard, but it was something that the Italian boy already suspected anyway. She might as well.
"The most powerful student in Hogwarts, as we all know by now, is Harry Potter, who saved Madeleine from Montague and managed to fend him off the last time," Daphne said slowly, still rethinking her incoming statement. As the people around narrowed their gazes on her, she knew it was too late to back down, so she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly admitted. "Harry and I are in a relationship."
There was a lot of silence in the room for a few seconds before Aileen whistled in a slow cadence.
"Damn," she murmured, and other people nodded dazedly.
"I wasn't expecting that," Sterling admitted.
"Madeleine will be so pleased," Astoria grinned, looking happy for her sister now that her secret was out.
"I suspected it already," Blaise smirked at her from across the room. When Bole, who was surprised by the statement, looked at him inquiringly, his smirk grew, and he teased Daphne. "She was trying to set Bones on fire with her mind during the Yule Ball."
"So, the relationship is a secret?" Bole asked curiously, and then Daphne nodded hesitantly.
"There are reasons for that," she said slowly.
"I don't see how that prevents you from being attacked, though," Astoria demanded, still unwilling to see her sister in danger.
"It won't," Daphne conceded immediately. "But it will protect me from being defeated. If enough of you are around me, we can manage to stall them until Harry arrives, and I have a notebook to talk to him with me at all times."
"Do you like whispering sweet little nothings to him during Potions lectures?" Blaise teased her even more, making Daphne look at him furiously, though, to her eternal dismay, she felt herself getting warm with the accusation, having spent an awful lot of time during the break doing just that. The fact that she was blushing was still tremendously discomforting to her, and Tracey was openly surprised at it, having spent a good half-decade without witnessing a blushing Daphne. Astoria, who had seen Eleanor tease Daphne mercilessly over Yule break, just looked delighted at seeing her so embarrassed.
"Why did you tell us about the relationship?" Aileen inquired, looking at Daphne with a demanding eye, bringing some sobriety back to the meeting. "You could have just told us about the diary with Potter. Why risk it?"
Daphne looked at the girl for the longest time before looking down at the table. Daphne knew that she should have been staring at Aileen as she spoke for more effect, but she couldn't. It was more comfortable for her to speak as her eyes drifted away into a nothingness beyond them all, where her hesitation wouldn't show.
"My father told me that the basis of any group making a plan is trust," she started. "I trust you all. To varying degrees, obviously. I wouldn't share all of my secrets with any of you. But it's not like my relationship with Harry will be a secret forever. Even if we want it to be, we'll get caught eventually. It's just what happens, right?" She stayed silent for a while longer, but no one interrupted her, as they all sensed she still had some words for all of them. "It's not the point, though. I think what we're trying to do here is something that can outlast us. And it is something to which I'm committed. This is a show of my commitment. You said that I'm the leader of the group, right?" She stared at the older girl, who was looking neutrally back at her. "Well, the leader is at the forefront, but they are also the most vulnerable. My father advised me to find my meaning of what it is to be a leader, and to me, it is that. Strength in vulnerability. I have opened up to all of you, showing that I'll be trusting you from now on. It's the least I can do if you are all willing to fight with me."
Aileen silently stared the girl down until she sighed. "Damnit, Greengrass, I would have been fighting with you regardless of the secret or not," she said brashly, making Daphne feel a bit foolish, but then she grinned. "But I guess it's stuff like this which makes you so admirable. I can't see Draco doing the same."
"I'm not interested in the secret myself," Bole shrugged. "Date whoever you want; I don't care. But I appreciate the gesture."
The people around her nodded in turn, and Daphne smiled honestly at the group. She firmly believed that no one would betray her secrets in that little circle of close associates, and believed that by exposing herself like that, she would create stronger bonds between them and her. Now, it would be time to test the theory.
"This is all very moving and all," Astoria drawled, giving Daphne the stink eye. "But you're still going to put yourself at risk, and I will be writing to mother if necessary."
"Tori, think about it," Daphne implored, looking at her younger sister. "If we parade around saying that things will change, they'll do as you said and think it's coming from me. It'll be as Bole deduced. They'll think it's a power grab. And the easiest way to counter a power grab is what they'll go with: humiliate the person trying to seize control of the House. But if they fail and we then come out saying that all we wanted was to ensure that everyone has a voice..."
"They'll be isolated," Tracey summed up, glaring at Daphne all the while. "I'm still not happy with it."
"It's the best plan we have," Daphne spoke neutrally.
"Because you're only giving us an hour to think of an alternative," Blaise added. Daphne looked at him and unblinkingly confirmed.
"Yes."
Astoria looked furious, and Tracey was not far behind her, but the rest of the group seemed more partial to agreeing with the plan, so long as they managed to protect Daphne.
"If Greengrass is heavily escorted, it'll add to the illusion that you're planning a power grab," Aileen spoke pensively.
"Which leads us to the second point," Daphne spoke warily, expecting the most resistance. And as expected, this time, Astoria did explode.
"Oh no, you don't," she snarled, getting up from her seat and drawing her wand, which drew angry sparks as she pointed it to the ground. "You are not putting me under guard."
"Tori, please," Daphne begged her.
"NO!" Astoria yelled, angry tears forming in the corner of her eyes. "I am not useless. Don't treat me like I'm useless just because of my condition."
"I am not doing that," Daphne implored, the fear of having her little sister attacked threatening to overwhelm her. She rose from her chair and took a step closer to Astoria, whose wand began to shine brighter as her sister approached. Astoria wasn't a threat to Daphne, none of her spells would cause damage, and for all her fury, she loved Daphne too much to attack her. But still, Daphne's heart broke with the betrayed anger in her sister's eyes. "Tori, please."
"No," the youngest Greengrass murmured. "I am going to protect you."
"You can't," Daphne pleaded, her voice threatening to crack under the stress of imagining how mercilessly Montague would attack the vulnerable Astoria. Even if no attacks landed, the stress of magical combat might be enough to make her condition worsen. "Astoria, you're too young."
"You mean that I'm too weak," her sister responded harshly, still furious. "I won't let you be attacked if I'm not there."
"Astoria, you won't be able to stop Montague or even Malfoy," Daphne pointed out emotionally.
"Neither will you!" Astoria bit back, stepping petulantly with one foot. "But you're still going to do it anyway and try to put me to the side like everyone always does."
"I'll never do that to you," Daphne insisted, but Astoria wouldn't budge. The younger Greengrass knew that Daphne would only relent if she didn't concede, and the idea of her sister being an even larger target for powerful students was terrifying. If it required begging to get her to reconsider, she would resort to it.
"Astoria," Tracey intervened kindly, the only person other than Daphne that was close enough to the second-year to approach the duo. "Daphne will need more protection in the future, and she'll need you to be there for her. Get stronger, and then you can stand by her side."
Astoria looked at Tracey and then at Daphne slowly. Her older sister was offering her a hug that she refused, breaking Daphne's spirit, but she conceded the argument and stayed quiet. Daphne still embraced her, and Astoria didn't step away from the hug, but neither did she respond.
"I can't lose you, Tori," Daphne whispered in the ear. Astoria didn't answer, but her arms did move to complete the hug before she realized it and put them down forcefully. But Daphne had noticed it and chose to accept it as the best she would do against her wilful little sister.
"Right, if we're done?" Bole asked as delicately as he could. When Daphne hummed, and Astoria didn't complain, he pointed to one of the folders. "I think we can go for that one."
"Well, we have a half-hour," Tracey exhaled. "Let's get to it."
Half an hour later, Daphne and a convoy of people who supported her entered the Common Room as imperiously as they could, making sure that she led the entire group. Bole and Aileen, two magically strong seventh-years, were escorting her on each side with wands already drawn, which caught the attention of everyone else in the room. Montague had his hand already on his, glaring holes through Bole's head. Malfoy was similarly staring venomously at Daphne, who until so recently was to be his bride. Daphne had stolen a trick from Harry's summer school and snuck a runic array written on some parchment for Blaise to glue to one of the black leather chairs in the Slytherin Common Room, to which she simply touched her wand silently, pushing some magic into it. Daphne smirked as the chair transformed according to the runic specifications into a vaguely throne-like shape for her to sit and appreciated the gasps at her apparent magical prowess. As she toured her eyes through the people present, she noticed some of them looking at her with undisguised amusement, evidently having caught on to what she had done with the chair, and made a point to nod minutely in their direction. One of those who had noticed was Nott, but Malfoy and his acolytes were too angry to reason there was no way she could ever manage that transfiguration silently as a Fourth-Year.
"Hello, everyone," she smiled pleasantly.
"Why have you called us here, Greengrass?" Draco cut her short impatiently.
"Do you never learn, Malfoy?" She smirked in his direction, all fangs and malice. "Last time I called you all here, things didn't go very well for you," she pointed out in an almost musical intonation, pointing to the currently empty portrait of Salazar Slytherin. Malfoy reddened and was about to speak again when Nott intervened.
"Is that a throne, Greengrass?" His tone was more curious than admonishing, though Daphne knew what he was doing. Slytherins would not take kindly to someone considering themselves above them all. "It looks cozy."
"Throne? Where did you get that idea?" Daphne scoffed, waving the suggestion off. "I merely chose a design for a chair fit for someone of my station," she pointed out, and the boy smiled widely and bowed to the exact degree one should do an Heiress. Nott had his moments, she had to admit. Thankfully, he had decided to remain aloof. He was much more competent than Draco.
"Tell us what you want, Greengrass," Pansy spoke absent-mindedly. The girl was also a curious case. She had more or less stayed away from Draco ever since the beginning of the year but hadn't approached Daphne either. Tracey had said she was speaking with Bulstrode and Nott more than most people in their year now, which was a curious combination. Pansy had always had heaps of potential in Daphne's estimation, but she squandered it pampering over Draco. But something had changed, and Daphne expected that the political backlash from her father's movements against Lucius had firmly set her mind against associating with Malfoy. Pansy was a Slytherin of sorts, Daphne wondered, noticing how different they were despite being both from the same House.
"What I want?" Daphne spoke slowly. "I don't think what I want matters," she continued.
"Agreed," Montague affirmed gruffly, with a dangerous glint in his eyes. If part of this exercise was supposed to bait the boy into an aggressive frenzy, they wouldn't have to wait long until he attacked. Daphne suppressed a shiver of fear, putting her trust in the people around her, and most importantly, in Harry.
"What does matter is what will happen," she spoke on, ignoring the older student's words, even as Malfoy's associates and even some undecided chuckled and jeered. "And many things will happen."
"What sorts of things?" Draco demanded.
"Change," Daphne spoke in a whisper that carried the room. "There's no Snape here anymore to stop change, Malfoy. Daddy is too busy fixing up your lies," she smirked as the boy stiffened in outrage, Crabbe holding him back from drawing a wand. Remarkable self-control from someone who was so notoriously dim, but his father had almost been arrested for being overzealous in an attack on the World Cup Final. Maybe that had imparted the boy with some natural caution. "And change is needed."
"Spoken like a true blood-traitor," Bletchley spat out, to some people's agreement, muted or loud. Most of the room watched in a mixture of apprehension and excitement in a silent, captivated fashion. Daphne let the insult wash over her, feigning being unimpressed, even as those words had always infuriated her.
"There's such a quaint, provincial charm to being a traditionalist for tradition's sake," Daphne drawled, lengthening out the words to make sure that everyone heard them. "It's almost cute." She finished, sending a part of her group and the audience into amused jeering of her own, which is a good sign.
"A future Wizengamot Lady decrying tradition?" Draco inquired, looking at Daphne in disgust.
"Oh, please, I won't listen to you crying about traditions," Daphne spoke derisively as she looked at Draco with a similar amount of exasperated revulsion as he had shown to her. "Your family worships a Roman god, and you've come here from France. Shut up, Monsieur Malfoy."
Malfoy again reddened furiously, and though his instincts told him to puff away, his father's teachings insisted that he stay to gather more information. All the while, he was plotting ways to make Daphne pay for her insubordination whenever Cygnus had to concede her hand to save Astoria.
"I respect traditions, as have my family, for generations. But maintaining traditions for the sake of themselves is idiotic. There is no ambition or cunning in mindlessness, is there?" She questioned, making a point to not glance at the portrait of Salazar, even though she noticed several people did. "That is all I'm saying. Change is needed, and it will come, by my hand."
"Will it, now?" Draco questioned defiantly. Daphne smiled widely at him.
"Yes," she purred. "It will."
She then dismissed the runic array by pulling a bit of her magic back, sending it back to its normal state. Blaise discreetly burned the piece of parchment to erase any evidence, and the group marched away, leaving a Slytherin House in total disarray behind it.
As they walked away, Daphne was pulled into a room by Tracey, who locked the door and furiously glared at her best friend. Daphne, who had been expecting as much, did her best to remain calm, despite her emotions being in turmoil as she faced the incredibly hurt visage of her closest friend.
"How dare you do that to me?" She demanded, looking as stern as she had ever looked.
"Tracey—"
"Shut up!" Her friend interrupted Daphne, who meekly quietened immediately, forcing herself to not look down. "How dare you? You know that I would never have agreed with this idiotic plan if you had told me about it before, so you only let me know with a bunch of peopl around, knowing that I would never challenge you for long in front of everyone."
"Yes," Daphne admitted feebly, feeling ashamed of deceiving her friend that way, but still not willing to back down.
"There is no way that Cygnus gave you this idea," Tracey shook her head despairingly. "It's too fucking stupid for him to put his daughters at risk. He'd never do that."
"He doesn't think that Malfoy will attack me after he got beaten back—" Daphne tried to explain, only to see a look of thunderous rage blossom in Tracey's face, which cut her off mid-sentence.
"STOP!" She demanded, and Daphne did, startled and hurt by the viciousness of the statement. "You are like a sister to me. Cygnus is my second father. I know both of you very well. Stop. Lying."
Daphne looked down that time, incapable of meeting her friend's eye. She hated seeing her like that, and her heart was sinking into her feet under Tracey's furious gaze.
"He thinks that Hogwarts has additional security measures since the attack on Madeleine and the First Task," Daphne admitted quietly, gathering the strength to look at Tracey's disbelieving, incredulous face.
"And why does he think that?" Tracey demanded dryly, and Daphne was silent. After a few seconds of staring her best friend down, the dark-haired witch threw her hands into the air and turned around, dispensing some of her anger by viciously punching the desk nearest her. Daphne flinched at the sound, despite knowing that Tracey would never hurt her, and it was getting harder and harder to keep her composure, knowing that she had hurt two of the most important people in her life by secretly adjusting her father's plan. "You are fucking unbelievable, Daphne. Unbelievable."
"I've often thought that," Daphne tried to say in a friendly way, but her voice wobbled under the emotional stress of the argument, and Tracey turned around to look at her concernedly, although anger and betrayal were still apparent in her expression.
"What did your father actually plan?" Tracey asked after a few seconds with a weary sigh.
"I didn't exaggerate it that much," Daphne started defensively, but one sharp glare from Tracey stopped her attempts at being evasive. She breathed in deeply and looking at her friend as honestly as she could, continued. "His plan does involve them believing that I'm going for a power grab and not a reform, it just didn't count on it turning into an attack. He does think that Malfoy would be prone to attacking me in retaliation, but he believes that the Dungeons are being looked at more carefully since the ambush on Madeleine—"
"Because you lied to him," Tracey interrupted her, and Daphne gulped through the thick ball that was forming in her throat, trying to ignore how much her friend's words were hurting her.
"So, he thinks they'll just begin a propaganda campaign about me being a power-hungry tyrant, and when I reveal that my plan is to ensure that everyone has a voice, they'll look foolish and get caught flat-footed, making them easier to isolate," she finished, looking anxiously at her friend.
"There's more to your plan than you've told us," Tracey guessed, and Daphne nodded. "So?"
"Well, we'll have to ensure that the attack comes at a time and place of our choosing," Daphne cautioned, and Tracey grumbled in agreement. "We know how they operate, right? They watch you closely and wait until you're alone. So, if I'm always in a convoy, the moment I'm alone for more than a few minutes…"
"They spring the ambush and take the opportunity, and we ambush their ambush," Tracey finished the thought, and Daphne nodded. Tracey narrowed her eyes in Daphne's direction before asking. "Does Harry know about this?"
"He knows about some of it," Daphne explained warily, feeling a bit panicked about his reaction if she told him everything.
"Let me guess," Tracey smiled sharply, and Daphne's heart continued to sink, knowing that Tracey had already surmised why she hadn't told her boyfriend everything. "You didn't tell him that you're planning on opening yourself up on purpose because you're not planning on calling him, are you?"
"Tracey, he's like Salazar," Daphne defended her frantically, her heart beating her ribs almost painfully. "I need to get the respect from the House on my own if I'm ever going to do something meaningful here. If he's there to save me, people will respect him, not me." She took a step closer to Tracey, and when her friend stepped back on reflex, Daphne couldn't stop her face from showing how hurt she got, and she began tearing up. "I'm sorry," she apologized in a broken whisper. "But I have to do this."
"No, you don't," Tracey answered back acerbically. "You want to. You don't need to."
"It might be just that," Daphne confirmed. "But I'm going to need you there with me. Please, Tracey."
Tracey looked at her friend for a long time, still feeling betrayed and furious that Daphne had tried to pull the rug underneath her. She breathed deeply, and took a couple of steps closer to her friend, whose face showed a great amount of relief. When Tracey frowned reflexively, Daphne's face fell again, and the half-blood preferred that it stay that way, for now.
"You will never, ever, do this to me again, do you understand?" Tracey spoke demandingly, and Daphne nodded meekly. "Promise me, Daphne. You are never going to try and manipulate me, or Harry, or Cygnus, or Astoria, ever again."
"I promise," Daphne murmured shamefully. "I'm sorry."
"You should be," Tracey grumbled, embracing her friend. "You're an idiot."
"I'm sorry. But I have to." Daphne whispered. "I need something that works because I thought of it."
"I know, Daphne," Tracey whispered back, closing her eyes in frustration. "But please, don't do this again. A lot of people around you love you and want to help. There's no shame in needing help."
"I know," Daphne said with a weak smile. "It's just—" she seemed to be having a hard time finding the words before she spoke more firmly. "I need one win for the old Daphne before a new one can do things in a better way. I have to."
"Fine," Tracey finally conceded, before looking warningly at her friend, who was drying her tears with her robe sleeves. "But I was not kidding, Daphne. Pull shit like this again, and there will be consequences. If you think I got angry, how do you think Cygnus would feel if he knew what you did? Or Harry?"
Daphne looked down and didn't answer, the truth of the words hitting her heavily. Tracey just exhaled, tried her best to calm down, and demanded.
"So, tell me about Harry."
"I'm sorry?" Daphne asked, confusedly.
"Did you think that the letters you've sent over the summer would have sufficed?" She demanded more strongly. "So? Tell me all about it. I need to vet your first boyfriend."
"Tracey?" Daphne questioned again, feeling a bit lighter now that her friend didn't seem so murderously angry anymore.
"Well? I'm waiting," Tracey began to pressure her by patting her foot on the ground, and Daphne cracked a weak smile before starting to talk more about the boy she loved.
Several hours later, many of which he spent chatting away with Hermione, Neville, and the other Gryffindors, Harry waited for Daphne in the Room of Requirement, already in the now much more comfortable setting of his place back in Diagon. Ever since the day she had left, being alone in that specific setting for the Room felt like an incomplete experience, so he used other places instead.
She arrived, looking exhausted and spent, instantly concerning him.
"What's wrong, Daphne?" He questioned, getting up to support her as she walked in. "Did someone attack you?" He demanded, looking her over for injuries. She stopped his hand as it patted her down for cuts and bruises, and brought him closer for a hug.
"Nothing bad happened, Harry," she spoke, her voice muffled by his chest. She only allowed her face to be seen through the veil of her long blonde hair after a full minute of this, recovering her strength through contact with her boyfriend. "I've really missed you."
"I've missed you too," he responded fondly, looking at her with still concerned emerald eyes. "But you're not well."
"I had an argument with Astoria today," she admitted. "More than one. With Tracey too, actually," she breathed out.
"About the plan?" He inquired nervously.
"Yes," she responded just as tensely.
"I told you they wouldn't like it," Harry responded shortly, with some light gloating.
"Yeah, yeah, and you don't like it either. Tough luck, I saw you be stupid against a dragon, that is nothing compared to Montague," she glared him down, and he raised his hands defensively.
"I think the plan is fine, Daphne, as long as I could stay there to protect you all the time," Harry spoke, feeling confident in his ability to fend off Montague, but feeling no such certainty that anyone else could, not in an ambush.
"You're just looking for an excuse to be around me all the time," Daphne teased him smugly. Harry, deciding to enter the banter, replied.
"Can you blame me?" He asked, passing his eyes over her in an exaggeratedly lascivious fashion. She laughed and pecked him lightly.
"You're an idiot," she said warmly, smiling at him.
"Only around you," he spoke softly, and she embraced him again, enjoying his warmth. They stayed a few moments like this, feeling all the emotions they wished they had felt during the past few days of separation all at once. "I'm very worried about the plan, Daphne. I don't like the idea of you being bait."
"I'll be fine, Harry," she reassured him. "I trust them. And most importantly, you'll be there, right?"
"As soon as you ask me," he firmly stated, and she kissed his chest.
"Then don't worry," she instructed him, burying her face in his chest again.
"That's impossible, and you know it," Harry spoke, exasperatedly.
"Yeah, I do. But I'm telling you not to worry anyway," Daphne spoke nonchalantly. "You always find a way to do the impossible, don't you? Now, do it again."
"Demanding, aren't you?" Harry demanded dryly.
"You've always known that," Daphne grinned at him, and he snorted at her pleased expression. "So, Harry," she spoke a bit shyly. "Hm, I'm not sure how to say this. But, ergh. You remember when I joked about taking a nap before I left?"
"Yeah," he said slowly, not being sure where she was going with it.
"Well, would you mind if we actually took a nap?" She asked, not wanting to disappoint him but feeling very tired. "I know we haven't seen one another in a while, but I feel a bit exhausted right now, and I really want a nap, and I feel like taking a nap with you would be amazing."
"No need to ramble," he smirked at her awkwardness, taking pleasure in seeing a part of Daphne that no one else could see. She slapped his arm in weak protest, but he only laughed it off and held her hand, bringing her closer to the bed. The Room of Requirement materialized a thick blanket for both of them, and Daphne almost whined in pleasure when her back hit the mattress.
"Ooh, this is amazing," she purred, lying down with her back to him. He enveloped her fully, putting his hands just above her stomach, which felt remarkably warm. She breathed out in relief and was already closing her eyes when she spoke. "I can get used to this."
"Same," Harry said softly, even as he had to move his head to ensure he didn't eat several strands of her hair. In the movement, he caught sight of the little blue book that Bill had sent him, and a memory of the day she had left invaded his brain. After hesitating for a while, he decided to speak. "Daphne?"
"Hmm?" She answered, half-asleep.
"I love you," he spoke quietly, kissing the back of her head gently. For a second, Daphne was completely still, but then she turned to face him faster than he thought possible, wide-eyed and shocked.
"Are you kidding me?" She whispered. Something must have flashed through Harry's eyes because her own immediately widened even further. "You're serious."
"I am," he spoke as sincerely as he could. Daphne beamed more widely than he had ever seen before, her tiredness not even a distant memory anymore, as she was taken away by his words into a happier, lighter place, where no political drama resided, just two teenagers in love.
"You mean it," Daphne declared, not asked, as she looked deep into his eyes. "You love me," she whispered, her face drawing closer to his.
"I do," he summed up, taken away by her closeness.
Daphne kissed him fiercely, with much less gentleness than he expected, and after she separated slightly to breathe, he was surprised to see her blue eyes turned into flame, the intensity of them piercing him whole, pinning him down even if her weight atop him hadn't done that already. She kissed him again, that fire consuming him slowly and then not so slowly, as she devoured his love with her own.
"I love you," she said as she peppered his lips with quick kisses, though no less fierce. Then one of her kisses would linger, and Harry would temporarily forget where he was or how time worked. Daphne would come out of the kiss looking just as dazed, but his love confession always rebooted her mind, and she would come down for another kiss.
They did take the nap, after all. It was the best nap either one had ever had.