Chapter Seven: Mirrors and Manners

The next morning, when Daphne arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry and Ron were in a heated, yet hushed conversation.

"What did I miss?" she asked when she sat down.

"Harry's been exploring the school under his Invisibility Cloak and he found a magic mirror that shows you your entire family," Ron said. "And that prat didn't even ask me to come with him."

"I told you, you can come with me tonight," Harry said in a slightly annoyed tone.

He turned to face Daphne. "You could come too, if you want to, but we'd have to pick you up at the Slytherin common room. There might not be many people in the school right now but you don't want to run into Filch sneaking over to the Gryffindor Tower."

Daphne was intrigued. Even though she knew most members of her family, it might be interesting to see them all at once. Besides, how often would she get the chance to see a magical mirror that did anything else but comment on her appearance?

"I'm not really supposed to tell anyone where the common room is," she said. "But if you'd come to the door to the dungeons in the entrance hall, I'll be waiting for you there."

It was an odd sight to see Harry's head suddenly appearing from out of nowhere in the entrance hall, and Daphne nearly jumped. It was even more startling than a ghost suddenly floating in through the walls.

"This cloak is amazing," she whispered as she, Harry, and Ron snuck through the school's hallways.

The material felt smooth and silky, almost as if someone had managed to weave a liquid into fabric, and it was fully transparent from the inside. If she didn't know any better, she'd think they were completely visible.

They first snuck over to the library. Harry explained that he'd initially been looking for Flamel there, when one of the books in the Restricted Section had begun screaming and he'd fled. Daphne laughed at the mental image and wished she'd been there to see it.

Harry tried to retrace the route he'd taken on his flight, but he wasn't very certain of his twists and turns, and they spent nearly an hour sneaking through the cold hallways.

"You know, I was expecting a bit more excitement," Daphne whispered conversationally.

"Yeah, mate, my feet are freezing. Maybe we should just head back for tonight," Ron said.

"No!" Harry snarled, surprisingly viciously. "I know it's here somewhere…"

Daphne and Ron exchanged a quick, worried look at Harry's slightly unhinged tone, but kept quiet, and their search continued.

Then, when Daphne was just about to say something again, Harry finally seemed to spot what he was looking for.

"It's here — just here — yes!"

He pushed open a door, and the three of them stepped into a room that looked like a classroom where the desks and chairs had been shoved against the walls to make room for a massive, gold-framed mirror, nearly as high as the room itself. Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak off his shoulders and ran to the mirror. Daphne could see his face forming into a smile when he looked into it.

"See?" he whispered, turning around briefly to look at Daphne and Ron.

Daphne glanced around Harry to look into the mirror, but she only saw his reflection in it, with her and Ron in the background where they were supposed to be.

"I can't see anything," Ron said.

Harry gave him a confused look. "Look! Look at them all…there are loads of them…"

"I can only see you," Ron said.

Harry turned to Daphne, who shrugged. "I don't see your family, either. Just us, like in a normal mirror," she said.

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am," Harry said to Ron, stepping aside so Ron could stand directly in front of it.

Ron's eyes widened. "Look at me!" he said.

"Can you see all your family standing around you?" Harry asked.

"No — I'm alone — but I'm different — I look older — and I'm Head Boy!"

"What?"

"I am — I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to — and I'm holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup — I'm Quidditch captain, too!"

Ron tore his eyes away from the mirror to look at Harry.

"Do you think this mirror shows the future?" he asked.

"How can it? All my family are dead. Daphne, what do you see?" Harry asked, pulling Ron aside so Daphne could take the central position.

She stood in front of the mirror and looked into it, feeling a bit uneasy with Harry and Ron's stares on her back. Unlike Harry, she didn't see her entire family, and unlike Ron, she didn't see herself covered in honors and awards.

Instead, she saw herself, smiling, with Harry, Hermione, and Ron next to her with similarly happy expressions. Her parents, slightly in the background, were looking at her approvingly, not at all concerned that she was friends with the three Gryffindors, with these three Gryffindors — a Muggleborn witch, a wizard from a pureblood family in poor standing…and the Boy-Who-Lived, the hero who was secretly a thorn in the side of many old families.

She took a couple of deep breaths. The tantalizing image, which should be so attainable, almost seemed to mock her with its serenity and she wanted nothing more than to be that girl in the mirror, who didn't have to uphold stupid family traditions.

"Daphne?" Harry asked.

"I…I see us, and Hermione," she said, surprising herself with how shaky she sounded. "And my parents approving of our friendship…"

For just a moment longer, she stared hungrily into the mirror, then resolutely turned around. Seeing the real Harry and Ron looking at her, mildly confused at the description she'd given, made her both want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Then both Harry and Ron made a move as if they wanted to step in front of the mirror again, and even Daphne was tempted to just turn around again to see that impossible vision for just a bit longer.

"Let me have another look," Harry said.

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time," Ron protested.

"You're only holding the Quidditch Cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me–"

A sudden noise in the corridor outside put an end to the discussion.

"Quick!" Ron threw the Cloak over the three of them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door.

Daphne, Harry, and Ron stood quite still, holding their breath, and furiously hoping that the Cloak would also work on cats.

After an eternity, Mrs. Norris turned and left.

"This isn't safe — she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on," Ron said, and he pulled Daphne and Harry with him out of the room.

Daphne stared at the canopy of her bed. The image she'd seen in the mirror was still in her mind. Why had it affected her so much? Yeah, she'd like it if she could just be friends with anyone she wanted to without fear of repercussions, but still. She'd been dealing with that for most of the school year so far, and she seemed to be doing fine. And yet, the happiness she'd seen on her own face in the mirror… She wanted to see it again, so, so badly…

The next morning, Daphne was surprised to see that Harry wasn't in the Great Hall for breakfast.

"What's going on?" she asked when she saw Ron's pensive face.

"Harry didn't feel like eating breakfast," Ron said. "Nor doing anything else. I think…I think he's a bit obsessed with that mirror."

Daphne didn't reply immediately. She couldn't really blame Harry, given that her own dreams that night had involved a lot feverish images of her family losing all its influence, being ganged up on by the other Noble Houses, especially the Malfoys, all because she was friends with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, and her waking moments had been spent relishing the image she'd seen.

"I…think I know how he feels," she said eventually.

Ron gave her a fairly haunted look. "Yeah, that's why I told Harry not to go back to the mirror tonight. I don't think it's good — for any of us. And that's not even counting all the ways we could get into trouble over it."

Daphne nodded slowly. It did make sense, and she was surprised that Ron was so mature about it. She hadn't expected that of him, and it made her feel like she'd been selling him short a bit.

"Harry's not going to listen to you, though, is he?" she asked.

Ron chuckled humorlessly. "Of course not. But I don't see how I'm going to stop him short of ratting him out to Percy, and there's no way I'd stoop that low."

Daphne sighed. "Normally, I'd be all for going back there to stop him myself…but that mirror did a number on me. If I went near it…I'd probably end up staring at it all night," she said.

"I've been thinking about it a bit," Ron said. "And I think that mirror sort of…shows us what we want, or something."

He reddened a bit. "I mean, Harry doesn't know his family, does he? It makes sense he'd want to see them. And I…well, I have five older brothers. Just once, I'd like to beat them at…well, anything, really."

Daphne nodded in understanding. "And I wish I could just do what I wanted without worrying about politics, like being around you guys. I think you're right about that mirror."

She shuddered. "If it really works like that and shows people their deepest wishes, it's a really dangerous object. But what is it doing in an empty classroom at Hogwarts?" she asked.

Ron shrugged. "Search me. All I know is that I don't want to go near it again, and I hope Harry will realize that soon, too."

Fortunately for both Daphne and Ron, Harry had apparently been gently admonished by Professor Dumbledore, who had explained to Harry just what the mirror did — and proving Ron had been right about it in the process — and that it would be moved elsewhere.

With the mirror no longer an issue, apart from in their dreams, they could get back to enjoying the rest of their holidays, which went by in a haze of food, laughter, and wizard chess. Their lofty ambitions to look for clues as to Flamel's identity had fallen by the wayside completely, and they settled for resuming their search once term had started again.

Daphne had just spent a fruitless hour in the library looking for anything interesting and was just about to head back to the common room when she heard a familiar, very unwelcome voice just outside the library in the hallway.

"It's good that you're here, Longbottom," Malfoy said. "See, I just learned this new curse, and I was looking for someone to test it on."

Daphne stepped into the hallway, just in time to see Malfoy aiming his wand at a trembling Neville Longbottom.

"Malfoy!" she said sharply. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Malfoy turned around. "None of your business, Greengrass. This is just between me and Longbottom here," he said.

"Is it really?" Daphne challenged. "Because it looks to me like you're trying to get in trouble again."

She glared at Longbottom. "Get out of here, Longbottom, I have to talk to Malfoy for a second."

Longbottom shuddered, but gratefully accepted his reprieve and took off.

"What is it with you, Greengrass? Do you have a soft spot for freaks, or something? First Potter, now Longbottom. You seem to have a very interesting idea of who the right people to surround yourself with are."

Daphne walked closer to him, her fists clenched behind her back, but her expression — hopefully — controlled and annoyed.

"How many times do I need to tell you, Malfoy? I don't like the stupid things you get yourself into. Everything you do makes you look bad, therefore it makes Slytherin look bad, therefore it makes me look bad. I hate it when people make me look bad, Malfoy, and if that means I have to occasionally stand up for a Squib like Longbottom–"

She mentally apologized to Longbottom, in case he was still in earshot.

"–then so be it. You want to practice curses on someone? Try your lackeys. Oh, wait, trolls are resistant to magic, aren't they?"

Malfoy stared her down, and for a moment Daphne was worried he might simply try to curse her. If he did, there wouldn't be a lot she could do. She couldn't draw her wand in time, and even if she'd had it out, she didn't know how to deflect curses. She could only try to dodge it, and at this range, that would be next to impossible.

Then, though, Malfoy gave a mocking chuckle. "Very passionate speech. The freaks and Squibs of the world should be thankful for your vanity, I suppose. But Greengrass, I'm getting really tired of you spoiling my fun. I'm sure my father wouldn't be pleased to hear about that."

With a last smirk, he walked past Daphne, leaving her alone in the corridor. She felt like punching the wall. Malfoy was already infuriating, but with the dreams about her family still in the back of her mind his stupid little threat had far more impact than even he could ever have hoped.

At the same time, she was worried about something else. What if Longbottom had heard her calling him a Squib? Would he understand that she was just pretending, to get Malfoy off his back? What if he didn't? And what if, one day, she'd have to pull an act like this in front of Harry or Hermione or Ron? True — Harry had understood what she was doing in that first Potions class, but it wouldn't always be that clear-cut.

She had to talk to Harry, and soon, before something could happen to threaten their friendship. Even if she had to keep it hidden from the rest of the Slytherins, she preferred being friends at all over potentially losing them to a stupid misunderstanding.

She knew that Harry had Quidditch practice that day, and she hung around the entrance hall for a bit hoping to catch him alone. To her great relief, he was indeed alone when he came in.

"Harry!"

Harry looked up and glanced over his shoulder a couple of times to see if any other Slytherins were nearby — the Gryffindors had, by this point, accepted that Daphne and Harry were friends, their acceptance eased by the fact that, during the holidays, Daphne had met Ron's brothers as well.

"Hey! I wanted to talk to you anyway," Harry began. "Did you know that Snape would be refereeing the next Quidditch game?"

Daphne blinked a couple of times. Nothing she ever heard about Snape indicated that the man had any interest in Quidditch at all, so why would he want to referee a game? But before she could go down that rabbit hole, she wanted to address her own issue first.

"I didn't, but listen…"

She quickly told Harry about her confrontation with Malfoy outside the library.

"…and I'm afraid that at some point, I'll say something…I don't know, insulting or demeaning or something, and that you'll think I've been leading you on all this time, or something," she finished.

Harry smiled at her. "You don't need to worry about that, I think. I mean, I got it the first time too, didn't I?"

"I know, but still," Daphne said.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Well, if you're really worried…I might know something you can try," he said, and Daphne, who'd been hunched over a bit, straightened herself up in curiosity.

"When Muggle children tell a lie, or make a promise they don't want to make, they sometimes cross their fingers behind their backs. When someone calls them out on the lie or broken promise afterward, they'll simply say they had their fingers crossed so it doesn't count."

Harry shrugged. "It's playground logic, really, but I don't think pureblood wizards would know what it means. So…if you ever need to keep up your cover around us, just cross your fingers and keep them somewhere we could see it, a bit like how your and Ron's chess pieces communicate with you when we play chess, and we'll know that you're just acting. Hermione's Muggleborn, so she'll understand right away, and I'll tell Ron to be on the lookout for it too."

It felt like a weight had dropped off Daphne's shoulders. It was such a simple solution, but it would probably work. Members of Noble Houses looked each other in the eyes when insulting each other, after all, not at their hands.

"I'll do that," she said. "Thanks, Harry. Now…what was that about Snape refereeing?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know; we only just heard. I wanted to tell Ron and Hermione as soon as possible and then go and find you to ask you about it. No one said anything?"

Daphne shook her head. "No. Snape doesn't really tell us what he's up to. Maybe it has something to with what happened last time?"

Harry's expression turned grim. "Yes, and I'm sure it will lead to another round of 'Snape is trying to kill you', although I'm personally more worried about all the ways he's going to favor Hufflepuff," he said.

Daphne nodded. "Yeah, I imagine he will. But come on, do you really think Hermione and Ron will think he's going to kill you while half the school is watching? Malfoy would be that stupid, but not Snape."

"I know, so I hope we won't have to convince them all over again. It took long enough last time," Harry said with a sigh. It had indeed taken them nearly two hours to convince Ron that Snape hadn't been trying to kill Harry, and almost three to get through to Hermione.

"Well, I'd better get going. And…don't worry about what might happen with the Slytherins. We know you're our friend."

Harry raised his hand and took off, and Daphne headed back to her common room as well, feeling much better than before, but intrigued as to why Snape had suddenly decided to take up refereeing. Did it have something to with the mysterious object being guarded by Fluffy? Would Snape be looking for someone in the crowd? From the air, he'd certainly have a good view, and it wasn't like he was going to be unbiased anyway, so he would likely have plenty of time to scan the audience for…what, exactly? Things were getting more and more mysterious, and to her own surprise — maybe because of the relief she felt after talking to Harry — she was excited about it.

This is one of those chapters where some of the stuff from the books has just been copied verbatim from the book. It'll be even worse in upcoming chapters. I don't like it, but I haven't really found a good way to circumvent it yet, either. Rather like a cold, it has to get worse before it gets better, stupid as that sounds, because from Chamber of Secrets onwards I'll be deviating from the canon a lot more, so verbatim scenes simply won't be possible anymore. For now…I'm sorry.