She was walking through a stream. The rushing water felt cold over her bare feet. The sandy bottom was cut through with sharp rocks, and she didn't know how they weren't cutting into her. The stream was surrounded by tall trees, a massive forest running as far as the eye could see. It was dark, and she felt that if she were to enter the forest's embrace, she would not return. She heard whispers, mad beings staying just out of her field of vision. The loudest came from behind her, but if she turned to look there would be nothing there.
They grew closer, taunting her. She heard the chittering sound of their laughter filling her ears. She ran through the stream, hoping to escape the creatures and their whispers that felt like a hot tongue going over her ears. The splashes from her feet couldn't overpower the whispers, they were now deafening. She saw a break in the forest up ahead, and pushed herself as hard as she could.
She stumbled into the clearing, her feet still in the stream. It was silent, and she looked around. It looked like there was a person hunched over, further up the stream. She couldn't see their face. They were dropping things into the stream, and objects started floating past her. She picked one up, and her face turned into a mask of abject horror.
They were clothes, covered in blood.
Daphne sat up in her bed, breathing heavily. She was sweating, and her shirt was soaked.
"Daphne? Are you okay?" Pansy asked, looking over as she was getting dressed.
Daphne slowed her breaths.
"Yes, just a bad dream."
Pansy gave her a once over.
"Must be," she said. "You know Pomfrey could probably give you some Dreamless Sleep Potion, right?"
"I''ll be fine."
The two got ready together, and went down to eat breakfast in the Great Hall. They joined their friends, and started to eat. Malfoy and Nott were engaged in conversation.
"Draco, are you going to do anything about Potter?" Nott asked.
Malfoy was growing frustrated.
"No, I'm not." he said.
"Why? We can't just let him talk to you like that."
"I'll tell you why," said Malfoy. "Potter is dangerous. I'm not going to put myself at risk."
Daphne listened, interested.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked.
Malfoy glanced at her, and at Pansy, who was also eavesdropping.
"You all remember second year? When I was in the Hospital Wing for a week?"
The three nodded.
"Are you saying Potter did that?" Daphne asked.
"It definitely wasn't quidditch." said Malfoy. "And if he could do that in second year, imagine what he's capable of now."
"He should've been expelled!" said Pansy.
"That means we need to do something," said Nott. "We can't let him get any ideas. We need to show him who's in charge."
Draco's frustration reached a boil.
"Patience, Nott!" he said. "If the situation changes, we can think about it. For now, heed my words!"
They were stunned into silence. Draco noticed, and offered an olive branch.
"We have potions today," he said. "I'm looking forward to it."
Daphne was reminded of her mission, and glanced to the staff table. Snape was still there. She'd leave when he did, and talk to him before class.
They were joined at the table by Zabini. Crabbe and Goyle shuffled in later, and Pansy was forced to relinquish her spot beside Draco, making space for the two huge boys. Daphne looked farther down the table to see Potter, quietly eating alone. She turned back to her friends.
"It's been two days and I'm already looking forward to Hogsmeade," said Pansy, watching Malfoy.
"Maybe if you paid attention in class you'd be more interested," said Zabini. Pansy gave him a nasty look.
"Maybe if your mother wasn't such a gold-digger you'd have a stable father-figure," she replied. Zabini whistled.
"I have money, and you have a bunch of Dreadfuls on your transcripts. Seems fair to me."
"Draco! Do something!' Pansy hit his arm.
Daphne saw Snape leave the staff table.
"I need to talk with Snape before class," she said. "I'll leave you all to your petty squabbles."
She caught up to Snape quickly.
"Professor!"
Snape turned, his robes billowing behind him.
"Yes?" he said.
"I need to speak with you about something," she said. "Something private."
He turned again, heading in the direction he was before.
"Follow me." he said.
They walked silently together, to Snape's office. The decorations were sparse, no pictures hung on the walls. Several miniature trophies were sitting on a cabinet, reminders of Slytherin's past success in the House Cup. A few plaques were on the walls, all dedicated to various students he'd had in his years of teaching.
"What is on your mind, Miss Greengrass?" he asked.
She thought of her conversation with Madam Pomfrey, and hope filled her heart. Would Snape be the one to save Astoria?
"It's about my sister." she said.
Snape sat, unflinching.
"And?"
"I assume you know of her curse?" she asked. Snape nodded. "Madam Pomfrey said you are experienced in this field, and could help her."
"Madam Pomfrey has already spoken to me." said Snape. "And I will tell you exactly what I told her."
His gaze softened.
"Unfortunately, I am not as experienced in this field as you would hope. I fear I would do more harm than good if I did anything more than I was doing for her right now."
Daphne's mood fell instantly.
"What are you doing for her, sir?"
"I am making the potions that keep the curse somewhat at bay, Miss Greengrass."
"I didn't know."
Snape leaned forward.
"I am involved in all the lives of my charges. Especially those who require my help." he said.
"What should I do, Professor?"
"Madam Pomfrey told me you do not want Headmaster Dumbledore's aid. You are being foolish." said Snape.
Daphne bristled.
"My parents would not want the Headmaster to touch a hair on Astoria's head., much less be part of her treatment."
"Then they are fools. While you might not agree with the Headmaster's politics, he is the authority on all forms of magic."
"I will consider it." said Daphne.
"He already knows of the curse," Snape continued. "And he will await your decision."
"Until then, I will do my best to help you, and your sister. You have given me food for thought." he said.
"That's all I can ask, sir." Daphne replied.
"There is another who might be able to help, as well. I shall feel him out." said Snape.
"Thank you, sir."
"Take your seat. Class will begin shortly."
Tracey sat down in her usual spot. The Potions Classroom was dark and dank, hundreds of years of fumes turning the walls a putrid black. The smell was a medley of pickled ingredients and sanitary sprays, the tables bleached by their excessive use. They had the class with the Gryffindors again, and Tracey thought that was an irresponsible decision by the school. In a class where any wrong move could cause an explosion, they shouldn't have to be weary of a house feud.
Greengrass had been sitting alone when she entered, but she was now surrounded by her gaggle of blood purists. The Gryffindors had all shown up, and Potter came in last, taking a seat in the back. Snape stood at the front of the classroom, writing the directions on the board. He faced the class.
"Are we all settled?" he didn't wait for any affirmation. "As you all know, this is your OWLs year. No matter how dunderheaded the majority of you are, I expect that you at least make an Exceeds Expectation. Should you not, it will be reflected in your final marks."
"There will be no time for your usual neanderthal meddling, and any hint of misbehavior will be harshly punished." he looked at Longbottom and Weasley. "In the unlikely event that you display general proficiency, you may be accepted into my advanced class next year. This will require an Outstanding on your OWL exam."
Tracey knew she wasn't going to be in potions next year. None of her preferred careers required it, and she was very average in the subject.
"In a bid to save the imbeciles present, and perhaps have them scrape an Acceptable, I will be pairing the worst students with those better than them." he paused. "This will not be along house lines."
The class groaned, and Tracey wondered what Snape was thinking. This could turn dangerous very quickly.
"Next class I will pair you up. For now, the instructions are on the board."
Tracey started to work. They were making a generic restorative draught, a simple potion. She thought maybe Snape was giving them a warm-up, before going into deeper, more complicated potions later in the year. She powdered the dragonfly wings, adding them to her simmering cauldron.
She still hadn't been back to her dorm, sleeping in an unused classroom. She decided she had given Greengrass enough time to cool off, and she'd return that night. She hadn't seen any evidence that Greengrass had told anyone what happened, her wounded pride getting the better of her. However, the pureblood contingent of students in Slytherin had been getting bolder.
There had been several incidents in the younger years of halfbloods and muggleborns getting bullied and threatened, all by the children of suspected Death Eaters. No one had been sent to the Hospital Wing yet, but it was worrying for her. She'd have to find a better place to sleep than an empty classroom if her dorm became too unsafe.
She finished her potion, and turned it in. Snape said nothing as he accepted the flask. It hadn't been perfect, more of a evergreen than the emerald color Snape was looking for.
The uptick in harassment made her think that Longbottom was probably telling the truth, or at least something was happening in the ranks of the old guard. No matter what the Daily Prophet said, it was evident things were not right. She hadn't seen it in the rest of the school, but Slytherin was where it would start.
Too much was adding up, and there was no smoke without fire.
Should she even stay in the magical world? She had enough experience to live muggle, and the gold her mother had left her would get her far. But as she thought about it, she realized she couldn't leave. Magic was apart of her, and it meant too much to her for her to give up. She remembered how her mother had scrounged for the money to send her to Hogwarts, how amazing the first view of the castle was when she first approached over the Black Lake.
She couldn't give up on something that was apart of her, and she couldn't give up on something that had meant a lot to her mother.
She would have to adapt.
She subtly watched Potter as he worked. He was taking time with his potion, and it looked much better than her's. The color was nailed on, and he bottled it. He took it up to Snape, who promptly vanished it. So Potter wasn't Snape's favorite. No matter. His words against Malfoy had given her an idea.
She would talk to Potter. She got the feeling that they would need each other in the changing times. She turned back to her own desk, and started reading ahead in her potions textbook. When she looked up again, she noticed that just as she'd watched Potter, Malfoy was watching her.
Harry took his seat after Snape vanished his potion. His annoyance was belied by the grimace on his face. Snape was a torrid teacher and human being, and Harry tried not to let it get to him, but his sense of justice cried out. All he wanted was to be treated and judged fairly. He'd had a headache before the class, and he never left a potions lecture feeling better than when he'd come in. He'd have to go to the Hospital Wing.
Even after the awful potions class, he'd have to take the disgusting potions made by the teacher. He couldn't bring himself to feel grateful to Snape for making the medicine. Feeling positive emotions towards Snape was a step too far.
He was saved the teacher's presence by the bell, emanating from the Clock Tower. He didn't look back as he strode out the door.
He was sure his condition was growing worse, the flight of stairs out of the dungeon leaving him winded. He reached into his bag, and donned the cloak. He caught his breath, the shield between him and death allowing him to recuperate. The Deathly Hallow had been both his saving grace, and his downfall.
Ahead of him in the halls walked a girl with auburn hair, maybe a year or two younger than him. She was taking the same path, navigating the twists and turns with the sense of purpose someone who knows where they're going does. She was in his house, and he had seen her in the Hospital Wing quite a lot over the years, always taking as many if not more potions than he was.
They reached their destination, and Harry made sure she was inside before he removed the cloak. It was becoming a pain to deal with, he'd used to be able to make it until dark before he needed to reap its benefits. He flashed into view, and walked into the Hospital Wing.
The girl was waiting by the door, Madam Pomfrey nowhere in sight. A glimmer of recognition showed in her eyes as she looked at Harry. Harry paused for only a moment. He would be causing a stir this year, he might as well put himself out there.
"Hi," he said. "I've seen you in here before, but I don't think we've ever talked."
The girl smiled.
"Isn't it odd? We must've seen each other dozens of times, all without communicating. You've been coming here since I've been at Hogwarts."
"Well, it's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. My name's Harry."
"Astoria."
"You're a Slytherin as well." he stated. She nodded.
"Third year."
He gestured at the trim on his robes.
"Fifth."
Her smile grew bigger.
"I know," she said. "What you did to Malfoy has written your name into legend."
Harry frowned.
"Are people still talking about that?" he rubbed the back of his head.
"People talk about a lot of things, mostly things that bother them. There's only two things to do at school—homework, and complain. You've got a lot of people complaining right now."
"Truer words have never been spoken," he smirked, remembering his thoughts towards Snape. "I hope they go back to doing their homework."
"They will, eventually."
Harry exaggerated looking around, landing back on Astoria.
"It doesn't look like we're doing homework right now." he waved at the potions cabinet. "Do yours taste as disgusting as mine?"
Astoria laughed.
"Some are better than others," she said. "See that yellow one?"
She pointed to a flask in the bottom right, the exact shade of urine. Harry nodded.
"It tastes like how the common room smells after quidditch practice."
Harry's nose turned up.
"Do you think they even shower afterwards? I know for a fact Crabbe and Goyle don't, but I can't see Malfoy ever going without one."
"I don't think Malfoy even works up a sweat at practice. Can't have anything damaging his hair."
Madam Pomfrey bustled in, making her way to them with a smile.
"Miss Greengrass, Mr. Potter. How can I help you two today?"
"I think you know what I'm here for," said Astoria. "And something tells me it's the same for him."
Madam Pomfrey nodded, and got out both of their regiments. Neither made a show of downing their potions, both knowing what to expect. Harry had to appreciate the potions' instant effects, as his physical symptoms lessened in intensity. He remembered the time when they would've gone away completely, but it looked like those days were behind him.
The students were left to themselves again, as Madam Pomfrey went to the back room. They stood, neither leaving.
"I feel like I never see you anywhere other than here," said Astoria. "You're like a ghost."
"I don't really go back to the dungeons unless I have to." said Harry.
"That's understandable. Not the coziest place in the castle."
"Not the best company, either."
"I'd disagree, at least while I'm in the common room. I'm the best company in the entire castle." said Astoria.
"Careful," said Harry. "You're sounding like Malfoy."
"I could never," she said. "It was nice to meet you."
"You as well."
"I'll probably be seeing you," she motioned towards the room. "Don't be a stranger."
She left, a cheerful pep in her step. Harry went to the back room, wanting to speak with Madam Pomfrey. She was arranging things, the room a mess of files and medical supplies. He could see his name on one of the files, which was bigger than most of the others scattered around.
"Madam Pomfrey?"
She stopped, looking at him.
"Yes?"
"What's the deal with her? She's on as many potions as I am—not to violate anyone's privacy." he quickly added.
"That question is an explicit violation of privacy, Mr. Potter," she said. She got a faraway look in her eye. "But, I think you two could help each other. I can't tell you everything, but she's suffering from a condition similar to yours."
Harry's mind worked the information.
"A curse?"
"Of the gravest nature." said Madam Pomfrey.
Tracey noticed as he came down the stairs. It was a rare sight. Harry Potter was never in the common room. She was at one of the mahogany tables with clawed feet, working on her homework. Potter was moving quickly towards the exit, and Tracey packed her things, shoving them in her bag. She thought she might be able to catch him.
She got up just as he left, and all but sprinted to catch up with him. She got into the hallway, squeezing past the passageway as it shut. She looked to either side of the corridor, but he was nowhere to be seen. She picked a direction and went with it. This was the path to the library, one of the more likely spots a student would go.
She rushed down the corridor, going around several twists and turns. There was no sign of him. He must've gone the other way.
Tracey turned back, knowing that she might've lost her prey. She got back to the common room entrance, and went down the other hall. She wouldn't give up that easily.
She realized she'd never explored this part of the castle. It led deeper into the dungeons, a place no students really liked to go. Having suffered through over a thousand Scottish winters, it was almost impossible to keep maintained.
There was nothing past the common room except for abandoned classrooms, and the actual dungeons of Hogwarts. The upper years claimed to have explored them, but Snape had explicitly warned them not to venture there. What was Potter doing?
It was getting close to curfew. There was no sunlight in the dungeons, but Tracey imagined that the shadows from the torches were lengthening, the flickering light growing dimmer the deeper she went into the bowels of the castle. She lost count of how many intersections she'd passed, always keeping right.
The decor had grown morbid, tapestries of burning bodies and impaled heads, celebrating the victors of wars lost to the past. The torches were gone, in favor of lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Water dripped down the walls, forming puddles at the edge of the corridors. It was time for Tracey to cut her losses and head back.
There was a grating noise behind her, and she whipped her head around in a flash.
The blue glow of a ghost was at the end of the hall. Its body was emaciated, and long jagged cuts ran the length of its torso. It looked like blows from a whip. Chains were shackled to its arms and legs, and they fell upon the ground.
The chains were dragging against the ground, creating the scraping noise. Tracey didn't breathe as the ghost moved past her, its eyes forever fixed forward and gazing past her, not noticing she was there. She watched as it drifted out of her sight, and let out a sigh.
"Scared, Davis?"
A deep feeling of dread washed over her body. She knew that voice. She turned.
Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott were in front of her. Behind them stood Crabbe and Goyle. Their reflections taunted her in the puddle at her feet.
"We just thought we'd escort you back to the common room. It wouldn't do for you to get back after curfew," Malfoy continued. "Or lost in the castle. After all, we are in a very secluded place, aren't we?"
Tracey examined them. All of the boys had their wands out. They stood with a barely contained anxiety, poised and waiting with a bated breath.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked, her hand moving to her own wand.
"Don't play dumb, Davis!" Nott barked. He looked as if he was going to move towards her, but was stopped by a glance from Malfoy.
Tracey looked questioningly at the boys. They stared back with steely resolve. She had her wand in hand.
"I don't know what you're talking about." she said.
Malfoy chuckled. He took a step closer to her.
"I have eyes and ears all over our house," he said. "You thought you could talk shit about me, and my family without me hearing about it?"
Tracey stepped back.
"I don't know what the fuck you're on about, Malfoy. Talking shit about your family isn't worth my wasted breath."
Malfoy ignored her.
"Times are changing Davis," he had a dark look in his eye. "I don't have to put up with this anymore. You should feel honored."
She stopped, holding her ground.
"And why is that?"
"You get to be the first example."
He pulled his wand, and cast a stunner at her. Tracey had moved before he'd even completed the spell, and it whizzed past her head. She knew this wasn't a fight she could win, but she'd do her best to land a few hits in before she fell. She sent a stinging hex back, over powering it. Malfoy parried it easily.
The rest of the boys burst into action, throwing curses at her. Tracey dodged Nott's and Zabini's, but stepped into the path of Crabbe's. It was a weak banishing charm that sent her back a step, and she threw another stinging hex back at him. It hit him in the face, and he crumpled to the ground.
"Expulso!" cried Malfoy. He watched as his spell covered the ground between him and Tracey, the blue orb fizzing through the air.
Tracey was blasted into the wall, hitting it with a sickening thud. She quickly got up, a sharp pain in the center of her back. Zabini had another curse on the edge of his lips, his wand in motion. Tracey was faster.
"Alarte Ascendare!" she screamed in desperation.
He sharply rose into the air, slamming into the ceiling. Tracey felt satisfied as he screamed in pain, his arm bent in a disturbing angle.
"You bitch!" Malfoy yelled, staring at Zabini's arm in horror. He was broken from his reverie by as another spell from Tracey narrowly missed his head. He ducked to the ground as it took a chunk out of the wall, showering him with stone splinters.
"Enough!" said Nott, the whites of his eyes shining in the dark corridor. "Crucio!"
A disgusting red light came from his wand, and Tracey felt her world go in slow motion. The curse was coming too quickly for her to avoid, and she could only stand in horror as the spell struck her.
Pain encompassed her, and it felt like knives were being raked across every inch of her skin. She could swear that white-hot needles were being stabbed into her eyes repeatedly, and her insides burned as if she'd drank basilisk venom. She screamed, her vocal chords lashing together, and she felt a warm liquid come spewing out of her mouth. With dawning horror, she realized it was blood.
And suddenly, the curse broke. The aches in her body didn't go away as she scrunched herself into the foetal position, vomiting into her thighs. The acidity of the bile was like mixing salt into the wounds of her throat, and she whimpered, unaware of her surroundings.
The fog lifted slightly, and she heard spellfire around her.
She crawled to the edge of the hall and pulled herself up, a wave of dizziness hitting her. She looked up, and what she saw enraptured her. Harry Potter was moving through the remaining boys with a grace she didn't think was possible. No spells got close to touching him.
She watched as Malfoy begged him to leave them alone, and as Malfoy crumpled from Potter's last spell. She fell back against the wall, and vomited again. A pair of hands laid her on the ground, and she looked into the green eyes of Harry Potter.
"Potter," she said, darkness growing on the edge of her vision. "I've been trying to get ahold of you."
The last thing she saw before she passed out was a look of confusion.
Daphne was having a lovely night. The Hospital Wing was quiet, and Madam Pomfrey had had time to help her review techniques. The only person who'd shown up was a first year whose charm had backfired on them, and it was an easy fix. Madam Pomfrey had overseen her spellwork, and told her it was flawless. Though it had been something she could've done in her sleep, the praise stroked her ego.
It was past curfew, but Madam Pomfrey had said she would escort her back to the common room. Daphne was preparing to close for the night, leaving out only the essentials in case of emergency. She went about her tasks mindlessly, not giving much thought to anything.
It was a routine developed from years of volunteering in the Hospital Wing, the endless repetition hammered into her from the very beginning. Sterile linens go in the drawers to the right. Dirty ones in a pile for the House Elves. Arrange the potions cabinet. Prepare and bag ingredients. All of her tasks she accomplished by herself, the matron busy with paperwork.
There was nothing to do now but wait to be dismissed. She took a seat beside one of the empty beds, admiring how neat it looked. Now that everything was done, she couldn't prevent her thoughts from roaming. She envisioned a world where she met all of her goals, and she dwelt on a world where she didn't. The face of the clock became a mirror into the unknown as she stared at it without looking at it, a looking glass into her mind's eye.
She barely noticed as the doors slid open, until she was confronted by a boy her age, out of breath. Her eyes glanced over him.
"Potter," she said. "What's the matter?"
"Pomfrey," he said. "I need Madam Pomfrey."
Daphne swiftly moved to the front desk, ringing the bell. The matron moved from her paperwork, and bustled over to them from the back room.
"Mr. Potter," she said. "What can I do for you?"
Potter's face was deadly serious.
"There's been an attack. I need help moving people into the Hospital Wing."
A flip switched, and Madam Pomfrey was moving around the Hospital Wing, preparing beds.
"Daphne, go with him." she ordered. "Administer basic charms as needed. Help Harry bring them here, I'll be waiting and ready."
She gave Daphne one last look.
"I trust you."
Daphne nodded, and her lips moved into a small smile, only for an instant. She turned to Potter, who was on the balls of his feet.
"What are you waiting for? Take me to them." she said.
Potter led her through the castle, down a path she knew well. Her heart sunk in her chest as they went past the common room, deeper into the dungeons. She was both anxious and excited in equal part, both hoping for and dreading what she would find. She gasped when they came upon the scene.
The light from the lanterns was dim as it cast upon the picture. Zabini was slumped against the wall, his arm broken and bent. Malfoy was at her feet, passed out on his belly. Crabbe and Goyle looked untouched, leaning against each other fast asleep. Her breath was taken away by Nott and Davis.
Nott's shirt was torn, and he had deep lacerations covering his entire body. His face was etched in a snarl, and his chest was shallowly moving up and down. He was struggling to breathe. Davis looked even worse. Her body was contorted, spasming. She was in a puddle of vomit, and blood seeped from her mouth. Her skin had a ghostly pallor, and Daphne couldn't tell whether she was breathing.
Daphne felt her own breath speed up. She had done this. It was her fault her friends were in this position, and Davis might be dead. She had to get out of here. Her eyes flicked over all of their crumpled bodies, and she took a step back. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she was shocked back to reality. Potter was looking at her, concern in his face.
"You take Nott, I'll take Davis." he said.
She barely felt her words come out of her mouth.
"Do you know any healing spells?" she asked.
"I'll make do." he replied.
Daphne knelt over Nott. His eyes opened, and met hers. He ever so slightly moved his lips.
"Help me," he whispered.
His eyes rolled back into his head. Daphne touched his chest, and felt warm blood roll over her fingers. It was enough to let her know she was needed. Her breath steadied and her eyes refocussed. She tore Nott's shirt. The cuts were deep, almost to the bone. This was dark magic, well beyond her expertise. She'd have to try a spell she'd only heard of.
"Vulnera sanentur," she waved her wand over him. The cuts began to close, but stopped, gushing more blood. "Shit!"
She turned to Potter, whose own charmwork had restored some of Davis's complexion.
"Potter!"
"What?" his eyes glanced over.
"We need to get them to Pomfrey! I can't heal this!"
He looked over Nott. Did she see satisfaction in his eyes?
"Try a stasis spell. Davis isn't fit to move yet."
He continued his work, his wand moving in an intricate pattern. Daphne helplessly looked back to Nott. She had to close the wounds before using the stasis spell. It wouldn't stop him from bleeding out. She took a deep breath. She could do this. She raised her wand again, and felt her resolve.
"Vulnera Sanentur!"
She traced her wand over his wounds, almost dancing over his body. The blood running out of the cuts stopped its flow, and reversed direction, pouring back into his body. Triumph ran through her veins. She could do this.
"Vulnera Sanentur!"
The flesh started to knit back together, small tendrils knotting together. The blood mixed in, forming new flesh. It formed into pink and angry scars, but Daphne knew Madam Pomfrey could treat that. She slumped in relief.
"Stasis." she waved her wand over him a final time, and a protective bubble formed over him, stopping everything exactly where it was.
She stood up, her knees grimy from the dungeon floor. Potter had finished with Davis, and was watching her. She surveilled the scene again, pausing on Davis. What had happened to her? She had been in a worse position than Nott, and Potter had somehow revived her.
Daphne felt guilt creep into her. She had wanted to get back at her, even to kill her. But faced with the reality of what that meant, she couldn't imagine what would've happened if she got what she wanted. She wanted to be a healer, she wanted to save Astoria. Harm and death were things that seemed like a tantalizing wish, but went against all she was trying to accomplish. What was she doing?
She hated Davis, but she had lowered herself to Davis's level.
No more. She had one goal, and she couldn't concern herself with distractions.
"Let's get them to the Hospital Wing." said Potter.
Wordlessly, she nodded, and levitated her friends' bodies.
The first thing Harry did the next morning was visit Davis. She was awake, sitting up in her hospital bed and eating a meal. Harry had never looked twice at her before, though that could be said for the majority of his classmates. But she had said she was looking for him yesterday, and the situation she'd found herself in was noteworthy in itself.
He didn't want to remember how he'd found her, under Nott's curse. The sound of her screams would never leave him. He'd been sure to hit Nott with a particularly venomous spell, if only to pay back slightly what Davis had had to endure. He was sure Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be able to completely erase the scars, though Greengrass had done an admirable job of healing the cuts.
Davis was an interesting person to look at. She had pale skin, almost white, and dark black hair. She wore eyeliner and eyeshadow, a gold swirl over her eyelid. She had blush on her cheeks, and her mascara had run down her face from the previous night. Harry thought he saw a flash of silver around her neck, but could've missed it as she raised her brown eyes to his. Harry took a seat beside her bed, and became aware of the rest of the Slytherins present in the Hospital Wing.
Malfoy looked like he was trying to listen in, though the other boys were doing their utmost not to look at him. Davis followed his glance, and cast a silencing charm over them.
"Potter." she said, once again meeting his eyes.
"Davis." he greeted in return.
"I guess I have you to thank for my sanity," she said. "I was trying to find you last night, before they ruined the party."
She gestured to the other beds.
Harry had been confused about that. Before she'd passed out, she'd told him much the same. It didn't make sense to him, but now he had the opportunity to ask.
"Why were you looking for me?"
Davis smirked, chuckling. But there was no trace of humour in her voice.
"To prevent something like this from happening," she said. "To stop a threat to my safety before it got to this point."
"How would I do that, exactly?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Well," she paused. "I saw what happened between you and Malfoy. I didn't even know there was another halfblood in our year," she continued. "I thought we could look out for each other. Halfblood to halfblood."
"Halfblood to halfblood." Harry repeated.
He gave Davis a once over. She looked sheepish, almost embarrassed. But there was a hard edge to her, one that was unapologetic and expecting.
"Do you still want that?" he asked.
"It's not a question of wanting anymore, Potter. I think we both need it." she looked pointedly at Malfoy, who was straining his ears. "They won't stop."
Harry knew that was true. What he'd done to them would have them retreat, licking their wounds. But they wouldn't forget, and it was certain they wouldn't forgive. He had no doubt he could take them, but Davis couldn't. The screams played in the back of his mind. Davis could see him thinking, his face scrunched into a grimace.
"You saved me, Potter. There's going to be a time where you need someone to save you, too." she said. "Let me repay the favor."
Harry considered her words, but he didn't have to. He felt in his bones what he had to do.
"You're right," he said. She perked up. "They won't stop. But we'll be ready."
She sighed, before cracking a smile.
"You really fucked up Nott, didn't you?"
Harry's grin was feral.
"What'd you tell Madam Pomfrey? I didn't say anything last night," Harry asked. "Just that there was an attack."
"We all said we couldn't tell who it was, just that it was probably a group of upper years. Malfoy insinuated it was the Gryfs." Tracey replied. "Pomfrey didn't buy it, of course. But I'm not talking."
"I mean, somebody used the Cruciatus on you. Saying it was the Gryfs doesn't lend that credibility."
Tracery's eyes darkened, and Harry winced.
"There is that," she said.
She looked around, taking in the view of her attackers. Malfoy was still trying to listen in, and Crabbe and Goyle were staring at the wall. Zabini was passed out, no doubt on a pain potion, and Nott was watching them.
"Harry," she said. "I want to learn how to do what you did yesterday. I never want to be in this position again."
He nodded his assent.
"It won't be easy," he said.
"I know," she replied.
She raised her arm, outstretching her palm toward his. Harry took it, and they shook hands. As their enemies watched, a pact was born.
Daphne was shaking. As she looked in the mirror, she almost didn't recognize herself. Her hair was matted, tousled from her night lying awake in bed. The bags under her eyes were heavy, and her makeup was smudged all over her face. She removed herself from the mirror, and headed for the showers.
The warm water massaged her aching body. There was still blood on her hands from the night before, and she scrubbed them vigorously. It wouldn't come off, caked into the nooks and crannies, into the very lines of her palms. Eventually she gave up, falling into a sitting position, holding her head in her hands.
This was a new feeling.
As with the blood on her hands, she couldn't escape her guilt. Her friends bodies strewn across the floor, desperately trying to save Theo's life, and watching Davis lying in a puddle of vomit and blood played like a movie in her mind. She knew it was all her fault.
Madam Pomfrey had said she trusted her.
What could she be trusted with? Her own fallacies had enacted a terrible event. She couldn't let anyone find out it was her. She knew her friends wouldn't talk, and it was likely Davis wouldn't either, but that did little to ease her worries.
No. She wouldn't feel like this anymore. Davis had made her feel weak, and she had done the right thing. Nobody could cross a Greengrass and get away with it. She remembered what Davis had said, almost approving of her mother's actions. And Daphne's guilt vanished, crushed under the weight of her anger.
She could consider them even now, but only for the beating she had received. There was nothing Davis could do short of erasing the curse that would cross the void between their families. And it didn't seem like Davis had any intention of doing that. Daphne ignored the voice in the back of her head saying that she might have made that void impossible to bridge.
She picked herself off the floor. Her body was washed, but the blood was still on her hands. She couldn't bring herself to care. She shut the water off, and dried herself off. Getting dressed, she reviewed what the day before her would bring.
Potions would be her first class. She thought back to the first lecture they'd had. She wondered who she'd be paired with, and prayed that it wouldn't be Crabbe or Goyle. She could handle a Gryffindor mudblood, because even they had better wherewithals than that duo.
Pansy and Bulstrode had already left. She wondered if her friends would even be out of the Hospital Wing yet. She knew Theo would be in there for the long haul, but she hoped the rest of the boys would be out.
Her hoped were dashed when she reached the potions classroom. The Slytherin half was almost empty. Potter was in his usual spot in the back. Pansy and Bulstrode were looking confused, and she realized they hadn't been informed of the incident. She took her seat beside Pansy.
"Where's Draco?" Pansy asked immediately.
"He's hurt." she replied. "And the rest of the boys too."
Pansy gasped.
"What happened?"
"Davis," Daphne hissed. "They tried to get her, but she definitely put up a fight."
Pansy looked horrified.
"She hurt all of them? We have to sleep with her!"
"I've already put some wards up. I could show you, if you'd like."
"Thanks, Daphne." she smiled, and then immediately frowned. "Is Draco alright?"
"I think he'll be fine," she said, shaking her head. Leave it to Pansy to be a lovesick fool.
Snape walked into the classroom. The class fell silent. It looked like the Gryffindors had been gossiping too. The absence of over half the Slytherin class would be around the school the instant the bell rang for dismissal. Daphne could see Brown and Patil looking like giddy ducks, ready to quack their obscene bills.
Snape was above the situation, and acted as if nothing was out of order. He wrote the instructions on the board unperturbed. The whispers of the class grew again.
"Brown! Patil! Cease your muttering!" he hadn't even turned around.
The class grew silent again, and Snape sighed dramatically.
"Due to a cowardly attack, some of your peers are in the Hospital Wing." he looked at the Gryffindors menacingly. "We will continue with class as planned. I will read off the names of those paired, and if your partner is absent it is your duty to inform them."
The Gryffindors paled.
Snape began reading off the names.
"Granger and Goyle." Granger looked sick.
"Weasley and Malfoy." What was Snape thinking?
"Crabbe and Parkinson." Pansy's face fell.
"Greengrass and Potter."
She turned to look at Potter. He had been there last night, though she didn't know how much of a role he played. She remembered Malfoy's warning. His green eyes met her blue, and she couldn't help but feel scared.