"It's a horrible thought that, You-Know-Who at our age..." Ron said quietly as they took their place at the breakfast table. "... but I still don't get why Dumbledore's showing you all this? I mean, it is interesting and everything, but what's the actual point?"
Harry, now slightly annoyed, brought a finger up to his lips. He looked around and sure enough, Nevile was sitting merely a foot away up the table, though he thankfully didn't let on that he'd overheard anything. Hermione nudged Ron violently.
Under the table, he traced his wand in an 'M' shape.
"Muffliato."
And he watched from the corner of his eye as Neville frowned and began picking his ears. Hermione noticed, letting out a short, furious gaso.
"Harry! Do not!" she snapped.
He put his wand away quickly.
"What was that?"
"I said you shouldn't - you have no idea the damage those spells can cause! You can't just go around testing them like they're Zonko products!"
"One more time?"
For extra effect, he held a hand over his ear in a mocking gesture. Ron sniggered. She looked at them each apprehensively and shook her head.
"Unbelievable... Absolutely, totally, unbelievable!"
There was still a long way to go in terms of bringing her around to the idea of using the Princes unique spells, but he liked to think progress was already in motion. He wouldn't nag her about it, he'd given up trying, but if he could show her very occasionally how useful the new spells could be, they stood the possibility of making his argument for him.
The fact that after cursing him out, she then stopped trying to make her argument, counted as a small victory, in that respect.
"Anyway - ! I think what Dumbledore is showing you is fascinating..." she said earnestly. "It makes absolute sense to know as much about Voldemort as possible how else will you find out his weaknesses? Nobody could beat him through pure power alone - except maybe Dumbledore - so approaching it from a different angle like this really does make sense."
"I'm not saying it doesn't make sense, it does... and it is interesting learning how he started, it's… it's just weird. He looked a lot more human back then than he does now. I want to say he looked like he could just be any of us, but… I don't think I fully could. There was something different about him, even back then."
"Different how?" Ron asked.
He thought how to answer for a moment, but as that moment dragged out, he found his words failing him.
"I don't know. Just… different. Spooky."
On that rather ominous note, it was unanimously, though not vocally, agreed to change the subject.
The three began digging into the breakfast and soon after the post owls arrived, scattering everyone with droplets of water from the rain outside. People seemed to be receiving more post than usual; Harry guessed it was mostly anxious parents. Since his only regular correspondent was now dead, he'd not received anything since the start of term, although he had been hoping Lupin or Tonks might send him something occasionally. He had been disappointed thus far, which made him all the more surprised to see Hedwig approaching among the other brown and gray owls. She landed in front of them carrying a large, square package.
It took a second for the pieces to click together in his head, then he clapped his hands together in delight.
"Aha! Speak of the devil!"
As Hedwig began picking at his plate of breakfast, he unwrapped the parcel to reveal a new copy of Advanced Potion-Making.
"Oh, good!" Hermione said, delighted. "Now you can get rid of that old mess!"
"Are you mad?" he laughed. "Look, I've thought it out —"
He pulled out the Prince's copy of Advanced Potion-Making and tapped the cover with his wand, muttering a jinx, and with a shrill gasp from Hermione, the cover fell off. He did the same thing with the brand-new book, then swapped the covers over and taped each with his wand.
"Reparo!"
In front of them sat two books, the Prince's copy, now bright and shiny in disguise, and a dingy, ruined second-hand copy, which contained a fresh print from Flourish and Blotts.
"Now I can keep it as long as I like, and it only cost me nine Galleons. Slughorn can't say anything, all I've done is improve the quality of one of the schools old books."
Ron chuckled evilly. Hermione pressed her lips together, looking angry and disapproving, but as she looked like she was about to say something, she got distracted by a second owl landing in front of her carrying a copy of the Daily Prophet. She unfolded it and scanned the front page.
"Anyone we know dead?" Ron asked casually.
He'd taken the habit of asking this every morning - none of them quite seemed sure if it were a joke or not.
"No, but there have been more dementor attacks..." she answered. "And a handful of arrests. More attacks on muggles."
"Anyone we know arrested?" he asked, hopefully thinking of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Merula Snyde, Ismelda Murk and Aldrich Gideon, all sent down for allegedly up-turning a muggle bus. Ring any bells?"
Together, he and Ron shook their heads. Suppose that counted for some good news? At least some progress was being made to fix the state of the real world… even if it was barely scratching the surface. And that was going off of the presumption that those three were actually guilty and not more scape-goats the ministry was using so they appeared to be doing something… Thoughts of Stan Shunspikes recent trial and execution came to mind, which he shuddered to think about...
But, the real world? He surprised even himself with that one, since when was the muggle world the 'real' one? He supposed the strange, divorced feeling of Hogwarts and the Hogsmede compared to the muggle world was a bit unnatural. Maybe it would always feel like that? It was strange, in hindsight, that being so isolated from the society he grew up in didn't feel as bad as it probably should do. Almost as if Hogwarts was this recurring, prolonged dream he'd been having since his eleventh birthday.
He let out a deep yawn, the recent lack of sleep coming back to haunt him. Ron again broke the silence.
"Slughorn's party a bit rough last night then, was it?"
Hermione began to answer.
"Oh, it was quite fun, really -,"
"How the bloody hell would you know!?" he cut her off. "Pair of you sodded off and left me!"
She gave a pained expression.
"Oh, Harry…"
He shook his head, turning to address Ron himself.
"No, all he does is rattle on and on about famous people he knows. And he absolutely fancies McLaggen because of his family and everybody knows I'm only there because he thinks I'm the chosen one. Then those two -" he gestured only at Hermione, Ginny being absent "- up and leave in the middle of it, I spent the night chatting with Daphne-Bloody-Greengrass!"
Ron laughed jovially, shaking his head in disgust.
"Aww, you horrible bitch!"
Hermione, however, seemed to have zeroed in on something specific he'd said. Putting her knife and fork down, she leaned in.
"You spoke with Greengrass?"
"Yeah."
Ron, taking a loud bite of a sausage, gestured with his fork.
"Who're we talkin' about?"
"Daphne Greengrass, in our year," she answered for him. "Surely you know her?"
He shrugged obnoxiously.
"Never bloody 'eard of her."
Hermione, with opposite energy, shook her head.
"How have you not heard of her? You've shared lessons with her for six years?" she said exasperatedly.
"Just never 'eard of her, alright! What's got your knickers in a twist?"
Fighting through her very-easily triggered exasperation, she shook him from her mind.
"She's alright, actually. Skittish as hell, though."
She returned to Harry with a curious air.
"I'm just surprised you managed to spend an entire evening with her. She's known for being infamously aloof, a couple of the girls have taken to calling her the Hogwarts Ice Queen… which I find a cliche and overused trope... and frankly, borderline bullying, especially considering she's... well, you know - shes - s-shes..."
She started fumbling with her words and looking regretful. He peaked his brow.
"She's what?"
She glared meaningfully at him. He looked behind him, confused, but saw nothing.
"Oh, Harry, come on. You know what I mean! She's…" she urged.
She gestured for him to finish her sentence, but feeling very on the spot and not catching her meaning, he didn't know how to proceed.
"... Slytherin?" he tried.
Hermione deflated, letting off an annoyed grumble, while Ron laughed at him, pointing with his fork again.
"You spent the night talkin' with a Slytherin bird? Eeek, no thank you. Rather spend the night with Aragog."
Hermione shook her head again, still looking far more annoyed than he felt she was justified in being.
"Harry, really? There's not a chance you spent a full night with her and don't know what I'm talking about. Just nod… you don't have to be awful about it..."
Again, a comprehensive response failed to leave his system. Giving up, he showed his palms in a defensive motion.
"Hermione, look - I'm sorry, I just really don't get what you're saying!"
She looked around nervously, the same way he'd seen Hagrid once do when preparing to say Voldemort's name for the first time. Similarly, he felt a growing unrest as anticipation built.
"She's autistic, Harry," she whispered.
He tutted, disappointed. With a build-up like that, he had been expecting a werewolf-level revelation.
"Oh, is that it?"
"Yes!" she shushed him. "Or at least, we think she is... ninety percent sure, anyway... and that is not bullying! We're not insulting her by saying that, it's merely a genuine deduction of her nature. She never hangs around with anybody outside her own house, never speak in lesson, has shockingly good grades for someone our age, and then on the rare occasion she does speak to people, apparently she's a stuttering wreck who can't maintain eye contact. Luna's been trying to make friends with her for years and even she says she's too difficult to maintain a conversation with."
Hermione said all of this in one very forced out breath, and immediately looked ashamed of herself.
At this new revelation, Harry found himself closely examining every brief second he had spent around the girl.
She definitely hadn't stricken him as such. In fact, the two occasions in which they'd met, she'd been the one to approach him, and that didn't strike him as the nature of an autistic person. He couldn't deny that she'd been a stuttering wreck, sure, but for some reason he wanted to challenge her accusation.
Not that being autistic was something to defend against - in fact, he'd lived with the Dursleys telling everyone he was on the spectrum since an early age - but something about her diagnosis just didn't ring true for him.
"Hang on - doesn't that mean you're autistic too, then?" Ron laughed.
Hermione snatched the half-a-sausage dangling from his mouth and dropped it into his pumpkin juice. After a pathetic, momentary stare at his goblet, he drank it.
Harry brought his hand up, dragging attention away from Ron's nonsense.
"I mean she seemed alright when I spoke to her? Nervous, but I don't think there was anything wrong with her."
Hermione recoiled at his words - on reflection, he winced as well.
"Harry, you should know that not all disabilities -"
"Don't - ! It was a bad choice of wording, I'm sorry! What I meant to say was… I wouldn't have expected it from her. Both times we've spoken she didn't seem… like that… or, no, I mean, she didn't seem as bad as you're saying she is... I think she's just shy, frankly."
Hermione looked surprised. After a second, and with eyebrows entering her hairline, she replied.
"Both times you spoke to her?"
A ridiculous chortle escaped his throat.
"Why are you surprised by that? She's just some girl, not the Bloody-Loch-Ness-Monster!"
She mused considered for a moment. Unspeaking, her lips came together in a solid line, and he could tell she was in deep muse over something.
After a moment, she coughed quietly into her hand.
"Well… Greengrass has been an oddity among the girls in our year since we started, I'm just simply surprised, is all. The fact Ron doesn't even know she exists should speak for itself. I'm glad she was able to come so far out of her comfort zone at the party... I almost wish I'd have stayed now."
He glared at her.
"Me-bloody-too."
"I suppose she could just prefers the company of men? I don't suppose that's too unlikely…"
Ron nodded.
"Charlie dated a girl like that once. Nasty piece of work."
Hermione assaulted him again.
"Well, anyway," she said, dishing more scrambled eggs onto her plate. "You should know, Harry, Slughorn is going to be hosting a Christmas party in a few weeks, and there's no way either of us will be able to wriggle out of it. He's actually specifically scheduled it around our free evenings. And we are expected to bring dates."
Ron, who was using his fork to roll yet more sausages onto his, tutted obnoxiously.
"And this is another party just for Slughorn's favorites, is it?"
"Just for the Slug Club, yes."
"And who are you going to bring, then?"
"Well, I hadn't really considered it, yet…"
Finally, he gathered the strength to groan.
"When you say we have to…?"
"I mean it is required we bring a plus one and if you're trying to get into his good books for Dumbledore, it'll look bad if you don't," she answered.
"But I'm not seeing anyone!"
She rolled her eyes.
"You don't have to be seeing someone to bring them as your date! You could just as easily bring Ron or Luna."
"Oh, yeah, god forbid someone date me..."
"Ronald, what does that mean?"
Uh-oh.
He knew that tone of voice. He knew that meant the Gryffindor table was about to become ground-zero for another Hermione/Ron argument.
Their spats had been increasing exponentially this year - whether that was down to the added work load or the fact their mutual crushes were becoming too much to handle, he didn't know, but he had no desire to witness another one so early into the day.
"Good point! I actually think I see Luna over there, I'm gonna go ask!"
And bravely, he dipped.
After breakfast, the trio didn't reunite again, with Hermione and Ron having to partake in Prefect duties, that left Harry to return to the common room and begin Snape's homework on his own. But it turned out to be so complex that he still hadn't barely made a dent before the period finished and the clock above the fireplace signaled it was time for the afternoon's double Potions lesson.
Alone, he beat down the familiar path down to the dungeon classroom that had, for so long, belonged to Snape. Alone, that was, until he caught sight of a yellow head, a couple paces in front of him. Daphne Greengrass - the mysterious girl herself. They really had been in lessons for six years at this point, why had he only began to notice her now? Intrigue floated slowly but surely toward the surface and before he knew it, he was walking towards the aloof long-haired girl. There was no harm in talking to her like he would anyone else, after-all.
"Hey, Daphne!"
She flinched at him, to which he held a hand up in apology.
"O-Oh, hello… Harry Potter…"
"Good night at Slughorns, wasn't it?"
"I had a fun time."
Something seemed off and after a couple of seconds, he realized what it was. She was actually looking at him - even smiling - as if pleased to see him. If it weren't for her trembling shoulders, that was. But it was a good change from her previous, instinctively frightened reaction.
"W-What do you want?"
"Nothing, just thought I'd say hello."
"O-Oh…"
She gave a small smile, color on her cheeks, as she evidently appreciated the gesture. She was pretty cute, really.
"You heading to Potions?"
She nodded.
"Mind if I walk with you?"
"Oh... o-okay."
She didn't exactly sound over the moon about that, but set off walking without complaint.
He caught her up and it didn't take long for them to be walking at a comfortable pace down the hallway. It almost felt like they were going for a stroll together; something he couldn't say he'd really done with a Slytherin before. Daphne didn't seem to be think the same though, as she seemed to be making a point of never coming within arm's reach. Hermione's earlier accusation fluttered into mind, but given how shy she was, that really wasn't evidence either way.
As they descended into the dungeons they were met by a group of Hufflepuffs heading in the other direction. They seemed to be keeping to themselves, that was until they passed directly by them, when he overhead a few sniggers. As he looked back at them, Daphne moved to the side, putting him between them and herself. Noticing her, he gestured.
"Everything okay?"
"J-Just keep going… please..."
When the Hufflepuffs passed the corner, she took up position at his side again, but she didn't seem to fully relax.
It wasn't as if he'd never known a shy person before - or even shy girls - but she seemed to be pretty far beyond what he'd call normal shyness.
When they arrived in the corridor they saw the other few dozen people that were progressing to NEWT. level. Crabbe and Goyle had obviously failed to achieve the required O.W.L. grade, but Parkinson and Zabini had made it through, allowing Malfoy to keep his trio of Slytherins. The four Ravenclaws were also there, and one Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan. Ron and Hermione met them as they approached.
"Harry, didn't get a chance to say earlier, we've been thinking about… Oh, and how are you, Daphne?"
Before she could say, the dungeon door opened and Slughorn's ego exited, followed shortly thereafter by himself.
"Hello, hello! Let's all file in and get to work, shall we?"
As they began into the room, he greeted Harry, Daphne and Zabini with particular enthusiasm. Once they were all in their seats, he began the register.
"Anthony Goldstien… Blaise Zabini… Daphne Greengrass… Draco Malfoy… Ernie MacMillion… Harry Potter… Hermione Granger… Michael Corner… Padma Patil… Pansy Parkinson… Ronald Weasley… Terry Boot...Tracey Davis! There we are! All minus one, how splendid!"
Harry choked.
He felt his mind cut off as his scar suddenly flared with pain. He sat in silence for a few seconds, all his concentration forced on his heartbeat. It was only a small pain, but it was an ache that felt to be growing.
Just breath...
He glanced upward to try and keep at least some attention on his surroundings, only to see Ron freeze as he noticed the expression of pain on his face.
"Mate...?"
He looked back down and redoubled his efforts to stay calm, clenching his fists to try and dull the pain. It took a short time but the pain, thankfully, began to fade. When he looked back up, there was only silence and the pensive faces of Ron and Hermione to be seen.
"Sorry... scar... first time it's been that bad in a while."
"Are you sure? Should we get Madame Pomfrey? Or Dumbledore?"
As she spoke, Hermione was already picking herself up, ready to dash for the door.
"Stop, it's fine. Really."
"You look like you're gonna be sick, mate."
As he brought his hand to his forehead, he felt beads of sweat gathered and dabbed them with his sleeve.
"No, no, I'm fine now, really... Just, hasn't been that tough in a while. Not since before Sirius..."
The entire atmosphere had changed, the situation too awkward for any of them to know exactly how to react. And of course, the whole issue of what had just happened was occurring to him as well.
He scar really hadn't hurt like that since last year. And when it happened then, it was accompanied by either a black out for a brief-seconds glimpse into Voldemort's mind. Neither had happened this time, it also hadn't hurt as much. It was like a hiccup - like a momentary flutter, warning him of danger.
As the lesson began properly he tried to force his concern to the back of his head, but never quite managed to get his internal monologue to focus on anything Slughorn was saying. There was no practical teaching today, so much of their lesson was taken up by a droning lecture, which Slughorn seemed to recognize was entirely unbefitting for a group of exhausted, homework-riddle sixth years. Knowing it's futility, he gave in and began to clear up ten minutes towards the end.
As he announced early finish, a collective sigh of relief came from every direction. As meaningless banter began filling the classroom, he noticed Ron and Hermione coming to his stool.
"Any better, mate?"
He nodded. If he was feeling any more honest, he'd have told them he was actually still quite dazed, as the flutter really had shook his system.
"Promise you'll be telling Dumbledore, Harry?"
"Yes... I actually will, I promise."
Though part of him thought it wouldn't be worth the effort, he knew if there was even a one-percent chance of Voldemort trying to get back into his mind, it would have to be addressed. To not do so would be allowing the same mistakes that took Sirius from him to happen again.
"What... er... what do we have next?"
"Next?" Hermione scoffed, as they began to gather their things. "Harry, it's six o'clock, you're getting tea and going straight for an early bed! ...Ron and I have a Prefect meeting."
Mercifully, Slughorn allowed the trio to leave without hounding them about something or another - a headache had began to set in and he really didn't think he had the strength in him right now for him.
"I'll see you both for breakfast, then."
Ron patted him jovially on the back.
"See you mate."
"We'll see you tomorrow - Oh, Harry!" she shouted back at him.
His head dulled lightly to one side, acknowledging her.
"Mmm?"
"Slughorns party is in two weeks, don't forget about it!"
He waved her off.
God, for a short time, he had actually forgotten. Thinking about something like that now almost felt blasphemous.
But if he absolutely had to... if he really was allowed to just bring a friend, not an actual date, then that wouldn't be as bad. Lord only knew asking a girl out was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with right now, on top of everything else.
But, he supposed Hermione would already be taking Ron? And after them, the only other person he knew on that level was Ginny, who he knew was already going but, he imagined, would be taking her own boyfriend, Dean Thomas. That left him with a number of options for who else, none of which he was particularly enthusiastic about. There was Cho, he supposed... though that could quickly end up reopening old wounds... Luna was a safe option, if not for the inevitable rumors that would follow... he could always just ask one of the girls from Qudditch, but didn't want to risk any awkward team dynamics, should they say no...
Then, he recalled he did actually know one other person who was already going... and she was turning a corner about twenty feet ahead of him.
"Daphne - wait up!"
She flinched again - why was she always so jumpy? She turned to him with wide eyes.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, totally fine. Actually, I wanted to ask -"
" - because y-you looked in p-pain during lesson, just then."
She quickly brought her fingertips to her lips, as though she hadn't meant to say that part.
Damn, she'd seen that? Ron and Hermione he could get, but he thought he'd been a lot more subtle than that. He wondered who else saw, not enjoying the idea of giving Malfoy more ammo to use against him.
He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.
"Yeah... just tired, is all. Don't worry about it. But listen, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with me? Er - just as friends, I mean, since we'll be both going anyway and he wants us to bring dates, I just thought…"
She retreated back, an expression of unease written on her face. In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have unloaded that all at once.
"B-But... w-we're in Slytherin and Gryffindor, we shouldn't…"
She nervously twisted her fingers, looking unsure is what she was saying was insulting or not. He couldn't really tell if that was actually what was bothering her, or if it was the first excuse that came to mind. Normally he'd just shrug it off and take it as a no, but his desperation got the better of him.
"I mean, I don't mind?"
"B-But... those kids l-laughed at us earlier…"
She gestured vaguely up the corridor and he had to follow her fingers before he could remember.
"Oh, them?" he frowned. "They were laughing at us? Why?"
"W-Well... w-we're not meant to be f-friends."
He breathed deeply, then shrugged, hoping his solidarity would set an example.
"Well, like I said, I don't mind. This house stuff really won't matter after we leave next year, will it?"
She shook her head, still looking squarely at her shoes.
"No… I... I shouldn't."
"I mean... look, you don't have to, it's no hard feelings, honestly. I just thought don't want you thinking we shouldn't just because we're in different... I just thought it would be convenient to -"
She shook her head, but the way she moved was weird.
"No... it's a bad idea... a-and I don't think we should hang around each other like this again. I'm s-sorry, Harry..."
She sounded suddenly quite devoid of thought, as if she was replaced by some kind of robot rather than a living being. It was about the only sentence she'd said without stuttered, and that was because it had sounded well-rehearsed.
His mouth dropped.
"Oh…"
She turned, her back to him, but didn't leave. He could hear the strain in her breathing.
"Daphne…?"
She didn't face him, but from what he could see of her, she brought her face up, swallowed deeply and whispered something to herself.
"No... it's okay... Can you pick me up at half-eight?"
It took a second to realize the question was directed at him.
"Oh... er…okay… sure?"
And with that, she left. She was gone, she sped down the corridor, not running, but doing the exact walk people did when they wanted to run but couldn't.
Left in her dust, he could do little more than overthink their interaction, as he watched her figure vanish up a flight of stone steps.
What had just happened? Was she just nervous or was that something else? The entire experience felt surreal.
More than a little put off, he wandered back up into the castle, in vague hope she would be in better spirits by the Christmas party, despite not knowing exactly what had troubled her in the first place. At least that was one less thing he had to worry about... Until the night in question, he wanted his only worries to be his school work, Dumbledore's mission and whatever the hell had just happened to his scar.
