Chapter Thirteen: The Truth, Trains and Tracey

Daphne wasn't sure how long she slept, but judging from how much her body ached and the grogginess that claimed her, it couldn't have been long. The trouble with Grimmauld Place was there were no windows, just eternal darkness and dreariness. It was damn near impossible to tell what time it was.

She dragged herself from the bed, falling over her trunk that had magically appeared next to her bed. She swore loudly. Bloody stupid place to put a trunk, thought the part of her brain closest to her aching thought. But who put it there? Sirius probably, no doubt Dumbledore had sent it on from the Slytherin Common Room when no-one was looking.

Once the pain dissipated and she pulled a fresh set of robes from her trunk, now a lot more grateful for its sudden appearance. Along with the clothes, she grabbed a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a few odds and ends to hide the bags she knew would be under her eyes. Merlin, yes it was better to have her trunk. Even if it had inadvertently tried to kill her by existing. She went in search of a bathroom, the house appeared to be pretty quiet, Harry was probably still asleep. Daphne couldn't really say that she blamed him, he'd been through hell and back last night. It was hard enough watching him, it would have been damn near impossible to actually be him.

The bathroom was surprisingly large, not especially clean, but there was no surprise. Daphne shifted a few shaven hairs from the sink with a bit of toilet roll, really wishing that she was allowed to do magic, before getting started on her morning routine. She wasn't the type to wear a huge amount of make-up or cake her hair in the various potions aimed at girls her age, mainly because if she was honest with herself she doubted they'd really help. That said, some mornings demanded she pay a little attention to avoid looking like the backend of a Niffler.

Once she was not unhappy with her reflection, she headed back down to her room. It was only when she reached the landing to her room that she heard voices from the 'drawing room' that Sirius had shown them yesterday.

"Good, good," said Sirius' voice, "that's better, Harry. Remember, you're not always gonna get a good look at what you're trying to hit. Be as accurate as you can without looking, that's the trick."

"Right," she heard Harry say, sounding determined.

"Again."

There was the sound of flying spells and yelled incantations. What Daphne assumed were books were sent crashing to the floor and Sirius let out a murmur of appreciation.

"Definitely getting there," he said as Daphne leant against the door frame. Harry stood at the centre of the room, dressed in what looked like clothes that had previously belonged to a much larger boy. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his glasses were lodged awkwardly down the bridge of his nose. Around him, a set of small balls lay discarded having been hurled across the room only a moment before. Clearly what she had thought were spells were in fact the balls that Harry had been throwing at small targets Sirius had dotted around the room.

"Morning," she greeted them, grateful that she had had the good sense to throw her washbag into her room before coming to investigate the voices. She had wondered how Sirius was going to train them without being able to cast magic, but suspected that the various protections around the house may have distorted the Trace. Clearly not.

"Ah, Daphne, wondered when you'd get up." Sirius said cheerfully, a safe distance away from Harry, who was busy collecting up the ball he had lobbed at various points of the room. "Thought I'd get Harry going on peripheral vision. Can't really do much with spells outside the castle. Not without showing the Ministry where this place is, anyway."

"Makes sense," Daphne nodded, she figured that fights to the death wouldn't be civilised affairs, giving your opponent time to line up their shot and fire. It was, she guessed, a bit more haphazard than that. Just a bit. "Going well?"

"Not bad, better than I was on my first try," Sirius said.

"I thought I was doing lousy," Harry moaned.

"That's because you don't know any better," Sirius pointed out. "Trust me, it's harder than it looks. You wait 'til you're doing it against Death Eaters, then you'll really know you've been in a fight. Now, remember what we said, look without looking. You need to throw before you've thought about them being there, if you think they've already killed you. That simple."

"You know, when you're released you should really consider being a motivational speaker," Daphne commented, smirking from her sanctuary by the door. "You'd make a fortune."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile there as he yelled "again!" to Harry who responded diligently. He ducked and weaved around the dummy that, at Sirius' word, had come to life and started to try to attack him as he threw the various balls at the targets dotted around the room. Each throw came with a different curse. "Impedimenta. Expelliarmus. Stupefy. Reducto. Confractus. Confringo."

Five out of the six targets tipped over, the final ball, which Harry hurled over the head of the dummy as it rushed him almost found its mark before richoting off the wall and hurtling towards Sirius who caught it with ease.

"That was really good, Harry. Really good. Thought I had you that time." Sirius grinned before waving his wand and the targets reverted to their upright position.

"Same, that was fun. Are we going again?"

"Nah. Tell you what, let's get a spot of food now Daphne's awake and later we'll take a look at wordless magic. Reckon you'll be getting started on it next year but it's never too early to take the upper hand off your enemy. It's a lot harder to block what's coming when you haven't got a clue what it is. You can join in too, if you like?" Sirius asked, looking at Daphne.

"Sure," she shrugged, "not like I've got anything else to do."

"It'll be a bit theory today, but you can practise back at Hogwarts and I've got a couple of things lined up to mimic wand work. They're not great, but it'll help. Trust me."

Intrigued, but wary, Daphne allowed herself to be led down to the kitchen for breakfast. Or was it lunch? She really had no idea anymore. Whatever it was, she was soon to discover that it was incredibly tasty. In large part thanks to the fact that Harry had taken the cooking off of Sirius, who without Kreacher was not much use. It was odd that the elf still was refusing to answer his master's call. She had heard of them going AWOL every now and then but not entire days.

"Have you heard off the others yet?" she asked Harry when they had sat down with toast and drinks.

"Mrs Weasley's going to be popping by in a bit," he said.

"Dumbledore's told them," Sirius added, "so they're going to be going to see Arthur. He's probably not in a fit state to do much talking, but it'll be good for them to see him."

"Do you know if Tracey knows I'm okay?"

"Not sure, sorry. I'll ask Ron, he'll have spoken to her."

"Who's Tracey?"

"She's my friend," Daphne explained. "And Harry and Ron's. Well, we think that might not be the case for much longer."

"You're not serious, are you? Cause you are, Molly'll go through the roof."

Based on the previous night, Daphne had no doubt that what Sirius said would be true. She wondered if that was why neither of them had done anything, or maybe they had and she did not know about it yet. They had been left alone for a few minutes before being kicked out of the library after all. It was a strange thought, Tracey and Ron, but also one that made complete sense. There were two very prominent issues which sprang to Daphne's mind when she thought about anything serious happening between them, however. The two most important women in Ron's life. His mother and Hermione.

She had suspected for a while that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. She'd have asked Harry if the poor boy would have known anything, but like most teenage boys Daphne knew Harry would have no clue.

"No idea," Harry said, as if on cue. "Ron likes her, but I don't know if they'll be a thing or anything."

"Well, he'd better be careful, I'll say that much. I don't know what'd be worse. Molly or Arthur badgering her about her father being a muggle."

"All because the Sorting Hat did it's job," Daphne reflected sadly.

"Makes you wonder," Sirius intoned, "but I can't blame Molly. A lot of dark witches and wizards come from Slytherin, my family included. Not everyone's as enlightened as Harry and Ron."

"Doesn't mean it's okay."

"Doesn't mean they're bad people either," Sirius pointed out. "People like Molly are brought up being told that Slytherins are evil and she spouts the same to her kids. It's better to take time proving them wrong than lashing out and proving them right. People aren't going to stop doing it just because it's wrong, Daphne, no matter how much we want them to."

"I know, I just wish they did."

"You and me both, then I might get out of this wretched place." He looked around at the room, disgusted. "I used to dream about getting out of here when I was a kid. Finally get away from my God awful parents."

"They were really that bad?"

"There's House Elf heads on the walls," Sirius commented, "what do you think?"

"Good point," Daphne conceded. It had been rather disturbing noticing the heads of previously devoted elves on her way downstairs. Even Melissa Greengrass didn't display her House Elves for the world to see. "Well, hopefully one day you'll get out of here."

The optimism was forced, for Daphne knew, just like Sirius, that there was no way he was getting out of this house without a damn miracle. The look he gave her from across the table told her exactly that.

"Only way that's going to happen is if Pettigrew turns up and confesses to getting Lily and James killed," Sirius said, sadly.

"You've not even got the Mark though, Sirius." Harry pointed out, a look of indignant fury on his usually kind face.

"You think that lot'll care?" Sirius muttered, darkly. "No, they'll just say it was so James never suspected me, that I was a spy and why would a spy do something so blatantly obvious? Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm stuck here and that's all there is to it. At least I've got you 'til New Year."

It was at that point that the fireplace burst into emerald flames, Harry jumped but Daphne who had grown up with her mother's friends being keyed into their floo network, continued reaching for another slice of toast as Mrs Weasley, Fred, George, Ginny and Ron all stumbled out of the fireplace. Only Ginny looked disgruntled to see Daphne, and given the way she often looked at Harry, the Slytherin girl had a funny feeling she knew why. Could these boys not find female friends that didn't fancy them?

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked, agog, gaping at Daphne as if they hadn't just spent the last few months becoming friends.

"Lovely to see you too, Ronald." Daphne said with a fake degree of scorn.

"And you wonder why you haven't got a girlfriend," Fred chipped in.

"Real loss to the witches of Hogwarts you are," said George, smirking as much as his twin.

"Shut up, you two." snapped Mrs Weasley, who looked every bit like the woman who had been pushed to her limit by seventeen years of simultaneous bickering. The twins did their best to look sheepish, but continued to roll their eyes at Ron when their mother stopped looking. "Sorry we're a little early, Sirius, Dumbledore appeared a bit early, well, you know what Dumbledore's like and we wanted to get going."

"Quite alright, Molly." Sirius said, the tension very much still thick between them from the previous night. The toast that had been halfway to his mouth, lay discarded on his plate. Harry, who Daphne imagined Sirius had already forewarned of the entire Weasley family's arrival, was busy eating his toast as fast as he could. "How long d'you think you'll be?"

"I shouldn't say more than an hour or so," she was patting her hair again, and looked flushed at Sirius' cool tone. "Arthur can't have visitors for very long, he's still recovering and Healer Thicket said it wouldn't be good to over-exert him. They're still having trouble finding out whatever poison it was that snake bit him with, his wounds keep re-opening."

The toast Harry had been so desperately trying to finish, fell to his plate with a dull thud.

"But they'll get there eventually," Mrs Weasley continued with forced brightness. "Now, Harry dear, we'll be walking the rest of the way. So you get your coat and meet us outside."

Harry, apparently no longer hungry, did as he was told. The rest of the room watched with concerned silence.

"He alright?" Ron asked Daphne in a hushed whisper when Harry had disappeared.

"Not really, I think he still thinks it was his fault."

"His fault?" Ron repeated, "like dad would've stood a chance without him." He sighed, running a hand through his flame-red hair.

"Maybe someone should check on him?" Ginny asked. "I could -"

"No, I'll go," Ron muttered, hurrying after his friend. Fred, George and Ginny all looked like they wanted to say the same, but a stern look from their mother silenced any shouts for following Ron and Harry. Instead, she gave a warm smile to Sirius, who did not return it but instead pretended to be examining the goblet he was drinking from.

"Well," Mrs Weasley tried, looking about as stranded as Neville in Potions. "Let's get going, I'm sure they won't be too long. Lovely to see you again, Daphne."

Without a word to Sirius, who by this point was minutely examining his goblet so much he may as well have been a Gringotts goblin, Mrs Weasley bustled upstairs towards the hall. Fred and George gave Daphne a quick wave as they followed, leaving her alone with Harry's godfather.

Definitely not the position she had expected to find herself in that morning, she reflected as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice. She was starting to spot a trend here.

"I never said, thank you for looking out for him the other night." Sirius said, no longer examining the goblet but appraising Daphne with the same curious expression.

"It's fine," she said quickly, "anyone would've done it."

"I wasn't talking about taking him to Dumbledore," Sirius said, dismissively. "No, I meant talking him down when he thought, well, whatever the hell it was that was getting into him."

"You heard that," it wasn't a question. She had heard him and Sirius wasn't stupid enough to think she hadn't.

"Enough," Sirius confirmed. "To be honest, I'd no idea what to say. It was killing me, seeing him like that. Can't imagine it was easy for you either. Must've been like watching your dad all over again."

Great, so he really had heard everything.

"Yeah, it was pretty…"

"I know," Sirius said, for he did not need to say anything else. There were demons behind his eyes that she knew he would never tell anyone, memories that would stay locked away until the day he died. She knew because he was giving her the exact same look her father had all those years ago. So many memories, so many days he wished he could forget, so many that he would haunt his nightmares.

"Does it get easier?" She asked. "The worrying?"

"About Harry?" She nodded. "No. He'll get himself caught up in all sorts of scrapes, just like James. You get used to it, but I wouldn't say that makes it easier. Just familiar."

Sirius agreed, putting his feet up on the table and leaning back on his chair. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his head roll back and his hair hang down, swinging slightly. "But you're not going anywhere."

"No," and she knew she wouldn't. It hadn't been until she'd seen him in the Room of Requirement, screaming, begging for whatever it was he had seen to stop, that she had known. This wasn't just some normal friendship, one that might fizzle out in a few weeks or die over a petty gobstone quabble. Harry didn't have those kind of friendships. Once you got too close it was like being pulled into the gravitational pull of a planet, you couldn't get out even if you tried.

"It'll be tough," he appeared to be assessing her, his dark eyes watching for any sort of a reaction. If she wasn't so tired she might've snapped at him for being so stupid, but Daphne had done the same to Harry, hadn't she? Weighed him up to see if she could trust him. Sirius was already trusting her enough, although she doubted she could actually tell anyone where Grimmauld Place was. The words would just scatter in her head.

"Things often are."

"People are going to die," Sirius said so calmly that Daphne almost found herself wanting to look away, but she didn't. She just carried on looking back as he continued to fix her with those cold eyes. "But you already know that. You're a lot of things, but you're not stupid."

"It's a family thing," she said, forcing a smile.

"Must be your dad's, 'cause I knew your mother at school and it sure as hell doesn't come from her."

"You knew my mum?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, darkly. "She was about as much fun as stinksap."

"Sounds like her," Daphne agreed, not for the first time she wondered just what her dad had seen in her. So many questions she'd never get to ask him. Just another thing to add to the list of reasons she despised Voldemort and his little bunch of lunatics.

"She used to hang 'round with my brother sometimes." He laughed, but there was no mirth in his eyes. "Good old, Regulus, he really knew how to pick his mates. Most of them were Death Eaters before they'd even left school. He likes to recruit them young, and Slytherin, well, what better place to start if you're looking for blood purists with ambition? Or maybe he just wants a bunch of kids who feel hard done by and want revenge."

Daphne wanted to disagree but Sirius had a point. She had heard one too many of Draco's loud rants about mudbloods to disagree. Tracey was living proof of it. "Not all of us."

"No, but more than anywhere else," Sirius said, "that's the thing with starting young, you tie them in before they know better. Most kids your age, no offence, are bloody idiots. I was an idiot. So was James. We all were apart from Remus, but he's always had an older head on his shoulders."

"Because of him being a werewolf?" It wasn't exactly an experience that would make you immature, Daphne reasoned.

"Yeah, soon makes you realise there's more to life than Quidditch and girls. Not that James ever quite figured that out, he just added Harry to the list. I still remember the day they took him home," the ghost of something like actual warmth seemed to pour from Sirius, as though a chink in that cynical armour had opened up, just for a moment. "My point is, Voldemort'll be looking in Slytherin for his next batch of followers soon. Not yet, but when everyone knows he's back he'll start recruiting properly."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because someone's got to warn you what being Harry's friend might end up getting you into," Sirius said calmly. "It's all well and good, House unity, but there's a war coming. It won't just be broken brooms when Voldemort gets his hooks into kids like Draco Malfoy."

"I can handle Draco." Daphne told him, with equal calm.

"If you say so," Sirius said, "but soon it won't just be Malfoy. It'll be Crabbe, Goyle, Monatgue, Parkinson, all of that lot. They'll all join soon enough, their parents won't let them do anything else." He sighed, setting aside his drink and leaning forwards, so that his dark eyes looked directly into hers. The sound of his chair legs slamming into the floor almost made her jump. "Look, I'm not saying any of this because I don't like you. I just wish someone had told me this. We didn't know the risks, none of us did. We all thought it'd be done by Christmas, I mean, how could anyone stand to live in a world where he's in charge."

"And would you have done anything differently?"

"No," Sirius answered after a moment's hesitation.

"There you are then," Daphne said, simply. Because it really was that simple now. In fact, it probably always had been. She was no idiot, Harry was dangerous by association. He was like a house near a volcano. It wasn't it's fault that lava rained on you when you popped by for a cup of tea. "I know I've not known him long and I know the others have had more time to get into all of this, but you didn't see him last night or two nights ago, whenever the hell it was. It was terrifying, watching him like that, not knowing what was going on. And that stuff's still going to happen whether I'm here or not. I'd rather be able to help than just leave."

"I can see why he likes you," Sirius smiled.

"Funny," Daphne said, returning the smile, "I haven't the foggiest why he likes you."

Sirius let out another of his trademark laughs and whatever tension had arrived in the room since Mrs Weasley's arrival evaporated like vapour from a cauldron. The topic soon changed to the DA, and Daphne caught Sirius up on all the teaching Harry had given them, while Sirius interjected with what he thought might be good for them to learn. Some bits were more advanced than others, but it was interesting to see inside the mind of an ex-auror and an escaped convict. It gave him something of a unique perspective by no stretch of the imagination.

oOo

"So, you watched it happen," Ron said as they rode the tube back from the St. Mungo's. He, Harry and the others had not spent long visiting Mr Weasley. It was not exactly easy, with all the Healers floating round him, but it had been a relief to see him smiling again. Mrs Weasley had broken down in tears again and it had taken the combined efforts of Fred, George and Ginny to get her to stop crying, giving Harry time to catch Ron up on exactly what had happened the night he had seen his father being attacked.

"Yeah, it was weird. I dunno what happened, one minute I was dreaming and then the next…" he trailed off, remembering the way he had bitten Mr Weasley. The blood. The pain.

"Good thing you can read his mind then," Ron said, he looked pale, paler than usual.

"It's not just his though," Harry continued, he checked over his shoulder to make sure that Mrs Weasley was still being comforted by the others a few seats down. "I didn't just watch it, I was the snake."

"What?"

"Yeah, look don't tell anyone, I don't want them thinking that I'm…"

"It wasn't you, mate."

"I know," he remembered the talk Daphne had given him, he wasn't still entirely sure what to believe but everything she'd said had made sense. The need to bite, to kill, that was gone. Only he remained, but he wasn't sure if that was any better these days. Never before had he felt so fatigued, so empty, watching Mr Weasley like that. Is that what was going to happen to her, or Ron, or Hermione? Was that the price?

"Look, dad did what Dumbledore asked him to. Don't get me wrong, I'm not happy about it, but Harry it's not your fault. This… it's bigger than you, mate. It's bigger than all of us."

"So we just take it?"

"Way I see it, if we don't then everyone else does. Someone's gotta stop him, why not us?"

Harry couldn't help but stare at his friend's new found restraint, but whatever had sparked it he was grateful. Instead of being angry at Harry for being, in a small part, responsible for getting his father attacked, Ron instead seemed to be spurred on more than ever to take Voldemort down.

Neither of them spoke for a while, the darkness of the tube was bleak and depressing as Harry stared out at the occasional flashes of brick wall. Maybe Ron was right. Mr Weasley and Dumbledore were close regardless of him, even if they'd never met Mr Weasley would've been a part of the Order. The weapon, whatever they were guarding, it was going to help stop him. They needed it.

Yet, Harry couldn't stop the small voice in the back of his mind that told him it was still his fault. It felt like every life he touched came into life threatening circumstances, whether he wanted them to or not. How many times had Ron and Hermione risked their necks for him? Then there was Daphne, he was an idiot if he didn't think she'd be by his side the next time some Death Eater or other came calling.

He looked at Ron, who was fiddling with a loose thread on his frayed jeans, worn not through style but excessive wear. Ron, who had always been there. Ron, who had even walked into a den of spiders just to make sure that Harry didn't go alone. Everytime he tried to push him away, all he ever did was stay when it mattered. The Goblet, he knew, was nothing. But when it mattered, when he'd known about the dragons it had been Ron that had warned him. He could've left at any time, yet he stayed. Just like Hermione, like Sirius. They were always there.

Even if he tried, Ron and Hermione would never let him push them away. Neither, he knew, would Daphne. There were choices that were, it seemed, beyond his control. Yet, the idea of them getting hurt, at being at the mercy of that snake made his blood run cold.

"Is that why Daphne's at Sirius' place then?" Ron continued, neither boy wanting to dwell on the topic of Mr Weasley too long. "Dumbledore?"

"Yeah, he sent us after it all happened," Harry nodded, latching on gratefully to the topic change. "She's going to be stopping 'til term ends."

"Trace is gonna go nuts when she finds out," said Ron, with a small smile. The kind Harry had rarely seen Ron wear. "D'you know she reckons you two ditched us on purpose?"

It took everything Harry had not to let on that they very much had done that. He did his best to force his features into the model of surprise. "Nah, I just wanted to get McGonagall's essay done. Daph said she could help."

It was, technically, what had happened. Not that it matters now, Harry realised. He had missed the deadline and McGonagall would be more than strict to expect an essay off of him. No doubt, Dumbledore had told her what had happened. The whole Order probably knew.

"Yeah, well, you could've waited."

"You were busy," Harry shrugged. "Besides, we'd have been no help, you were stuck on Binns' one, remember?"

"Never did finish it, just got talking to Trace really. Did you know her mum's parents still don't talk to her?"

"Like Tonks' mum,'' Andromeda Tonks had done the worst crime a pureblood witch from a certain type of family could do. He remembered the scorch mark in the Black family tree and wondered if Tracey's mother had experienced a similar fate.

"Yeah, it's weird. I mean, mum'd go spare if one of us ended up dating a Slytherin but she'd calm down." His tone sounded hopeful more than sure.

"And is she going to?"

"What?"

"'Go spare?'" Ron continued to look at him blankly, like a goldfish whose tank had been emptied and he couldn't quite remember what had been there before. "Tracey."

"Oh," the look of confusion disappeared, replaced by one of guilty understanding. It was his turn to glance at Mrs Weasley. "I dunno, I mean, sometimes I think she's… you know. And sometimes, I think I am. But then, I mean, why would she be?"

"You're not serious?" Harry asked, stunned, causing Ron's ears to glow telltale red as he looked down at his shoes. He had no idea what to say. He knew Ron had self-confidence issues, but he'd thought that was just Quidditch — how could he think like that? "Mate, she'd be stupid not to be."

"You think?"

"Course, you're great." He was really hoping this was enough to perk Ron up, he did not know how many adjectives he could come up with should his friend ask for a reason, or worse a list. "And you guys get on stupidly well. I think Daph reckons there's something going on, you know."

"Really?" A giant goofy grin was starting to spread itself across Ron's freckled face.

"Really, we were talking about this morning. She didn't say much, but it could work."

"Right," Ron nodded, still grinning. "Cool."

"What are you looking so happy about?" Fred asked from Harry's shoulder. Neither Ron nor Harry had noticed one of the Weasley twins approaching, and he was now looking between the two of them with a knowing look in his eye. "Ickle Ronniekins, you didn't finally ask that snake out did you?"

"Shove off."

"We all know you like her," Fred continued, gesturing for Harry to move up so he could sit down. "My advice, go for it. What've got to lose?"

"Loads."

"Maybe, but look on the bright side, when mum finds out she'll be so mad at you we can open the shop without noticing. It'll be great." Fred grinned, causing Ron to scowl at him. He continued in a hushed whisper to Harry. "By the way, we think we've found somewhere. It's a bit expensive, but we're talking about a prime location in Diagon Alley. It's going to be nuts."

The train jerked to a halt.

"Oh and this is our stop," Fred announced, jumping to his feet. "C'mon you two, time is galleons."

They followed Fred off the train and then let themselves be whisked up the escalator by the huge throng of muggles that were sight-seeing in London. They managed to get to the top of the station with little incident and through the turnstiles. A group of tourists behind them were taking photos of each other getting through the turnstiles. One girl, trying to make it look like she was jumping through, nearly fell into a passing man in a bowler hat who pushed her away roughly. He walked with a limp that was all too familiar to Harry.

"Coast's clear," Mad-Eye Moody growled to Mrs Weasley as his approached, his electric blue eye, hidden under the hat, would no doubt be darting every which way as they headed for the exit.

"Where's Tonks?" Mrs Weasley asked, concerned and Harry was now aware who the woman he had seen on several occasions during their trip to St Mungos in the claret and blue colours of Aston Villa shirt had been. He should've known Dumbledore wouldn't let him go out in public without a guard.

"She had to go," Mad-Eye said gruffly, keeping his voice quiet as they walked up the stairs away from the station. "Scrimgeour is starting to get suspicious. She only had lunch to cover you."

Harry had the horrible feeling, as they rose from the underground into the daylight of London, that Mad-Eye's blue eye was locked on him as he spoke. Their journey back to number twelve was uninterrupted, with Mad-Eye occasionally changing from taking the lead to walk behind them. It was an odd walk, and Mad-Eye wasn't exactly conspicuous. But then, if any Death Eater saw them, Harry imagined they'd think twice seeing the imposing figure of Mad-Eye Moody limping towards them.

"Thank you for coming, Harry dear." Mrs Weasley said, squeezing Harry tightly once they had all been greeted by Sirius and Daphne and arrived back in the kitchen. Sirius and Mad-Eye disappeared almost instantly upstairs, Sirius careful not to be heard by Mrs Weasley, which could only mean that he wanted to talk about the lessons he planned on giving Harry. There was no way that Mrs Weasley would want him being taught spells by Mad-Eye and Sirius without Dumbledore's say so.

"Yeah cheers, mate." Ron said, avoiding Daphne's eye and hurriedly following his mother to the fireplace. Ginny gave him a quick, surprising, hug, while Fred and George tipped him a wink. There was a quick wave before the emerald flames engulfed them and they disappeared from sight.

"So," Daphne said, grinning, "Ron fancies Tracey then."

"How…"

"He wouldn't look at me," Daphne answered, as if it was obvious. "Either he fancies Trace, or you two talked about me. If it's the latter, I'm flattered."

"Why couldn't it be both?"

"Why indeed?" Daphne smirked, folding her arms. "But I think we both know I'm right."

"Yeah alright, fine, you're right. Do you think she'll say yes?"

"I don't think she'll say no." She smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes rather than the sarcastic, hollow ones Harry had seen her give Malfoy. It wasn't until that moment that he realised how much he liked that smile. "Do you?"

"Nah."

"Six sickles says they get together when we go to those tryouts."

The tryouts, he'd forgotten all about them. Tracey had been working all terms towards making sure she was good enough to fly in front of the lesser known teams, and that dream was soon to become a reality once Christmas and New Years were out of the way. These were the opening stages, before the final interviews and questions as to whether their face would fit in a youth team over summer, but it was the first step. A step he too had been wondering if he should take. Sure, he was good on a broom, but he did not love Quidditch the same way Ron and Tracey did. No, that love he knew was reserved for the DA sessions, sessions he spent hours in bed planning and organising.

"I'm not going to bet on Ron," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Why? Scared you'll lose?"

"Fine," Harry said, knowing that he wouldn't hear the end of it if he didn't. She had the look in her eye that he knew was her: I'm not letting this go, so tough expression. "You're on." It wasn't an unsafe bet. Knowing Ron, as Harry did rather well, he'd bottle it all up until at least the end of January. February at the earliest.

"Be prepared to lose, I like my payments promptly. In fact, you should probably bring your money with you. Save embarrassing yourself."

"Me? You're the one that's going to lose." Harry shot back.

"You're cute."

"And you're wrong," Harry shrugged, "he'll bottle it."

"Funny, I don't remember saying it'd be Ron that asked her. I just said they'd get together, Trace might surprise us all. Slytherins are ambitious, remember? You lot might be brave, but correct if I'm wrong, bravery is the acceptance and conquering of fear. You've got to be scared first. Ambition. That's just seeing what you want and taking it."

He wondered silently what she wanted, and, he realised with a slightly sinking feeling, if it was the same thing he did. He'd seen the look on Ron's face, it was the same one he felt on his own whenever she walked into a room. The same heart-skipping moment of excitement and nerves, of going out of his way to do things with her. He'd caught himself paying more attention to her at the DA, at making sure they were doing the same essays at the same time. And then, when she'd dragged him to Dumbledore's office, when she'd promised to stay, no matter what, it had been like a firework going off inside his chest.

He, as much as he might not want to admit, liked Daphne Greengrass. The trouble was, he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.