(A/N): Honestly hate it when you go back and reread a chapter, only to find a shit ton of errors. I apologize to those who had to read such filth before I could fix it.
Also glad to note that some readers of this story are familiar with the song title and the lyrics I've been using. Cheers to you!
As stated before, the title and lyrics chosen play key parts to the story, so be sure to read carefully!
Speaking of those titles, I will from now on mention what song/band they are from. For the previous six, I will create a small list here.
As all ways, I hope you enjoy, any mistakes are mine. Ideas and suggestions are always welcome!
Chapter 1 - Take Your Seats, Enjoy The Fall (If Rain Is What You Want - Slipknot)
Chapter 2 - The Moon Tells Me A Secret, A Confidant (Reflection - Tool)
Chapter 3 - Within The Sound of Silence (The Sound of Silence - Simon, and Garfunkel)
Chapter 4 - I Won't Let This Build Up Inside of Me (Vermilion - Slipknot)
Chapter 5 - I Don't Deserve to Have You (Snuff - Slipknot)
Chapter 6 - Burn Me Away (Child of Burning Time - Slipknot)
Chapter title "I Know The Pieces Fit," from Schism - Tool.
(A/N 2): June 21st, 2:04 PM - I'm honestly stupid, a reader was kind enough to point out an obvious continuity error I so stupidly wrote in. If you are reading this Author's Note, it has since been fixed.
A fire crackled energetically in the now unfamiliar Gryffindor common room. Harry had spent such remarkable amounts of time in the Room of Requirement with Tracey and Daphne, that sitting down on the plush couches in his house's common room now felt unnerving; foreign even. The red and gold banisters replaced Daphne's bookshelves while large, vertical windows replaced Tracey's various cabinets and shelves of confections.
Streamers, confetti, and Merlin only knew what else lay strewn about on the common room's floor; the aftermath of the party the Weasley twins had thrown to congratulate Harry for his completion of the first task rested in large clumps of evidence. McGonagall was no doubt going to attempt castration on the prank connoisseurs sometime in the future for muddying the common room. Harry couldn't help but let a grin that would've made his Godfather proud, cross his features as he pictured the scene.
The two red-headed twins cackling with unbridled joy as they ran amongst the twisted hallways of Hogwarts, their head of house following closely behind; her pointed heels clacking against the cobble floors as she fired various hexes, jinxes, and the odd curse towards the Weasley twins.
There was something odd about the prospect of imminent pain - of wrath - that left Harry's scar with an uncomfortable itch; one he couldn't quell. He did his best to ignore it throughout the night, but despite his attempts, it remained. It was as if something was trying to claw its way out of his mind.
Harry shook the thoughts off with a slight shiver, turning his gaze from the roaring fire to the golden egg that eluded him. The golden egg that held information regarding the second task; the golden egg that screeched once opened. It was such an ear-piercing noise, it amazed Harry that his ears weren't damaged - let alone bleeding each time he unscrewed the top.
For all intents and purposes; Harry was stumped. He'd tried leaving the egg in a crackling fire while opening it; burying it, throwing various spells at it, opening it upside down, even wearing a pair of Professor Sprout's mandrake earmuffs. Yet nothing had worked.
Each and every time, he was met with the same wail that would cause pure agony.
With a groan of tedium, Harry stood from the couch. Perhaps lunch would help him solve the riddle that was his egg.
Tracey frowned at the wide space in the Slytherin table in front of her, the distinct head of blonde - near golden - locks stood absent in its normal spot. The feeling that had lodged itself in Tracey's abdomen had made it quite difficult to enjoy the plentiful feast that was the Hogwarts lunch menu. A very un-Tracey like sigh tore through her throat as she poked and prodded at her lunch.
"Where's Daphne?"
Normally, Tracey would be excited - ecstatic even - to hear the strangely musical voice of her favorite Gryffindor. Had he not brought up her, she'd probably look up at him with her usual fervor; her teeth shining in an irremovable grin as a lollipop hung from the corner of her mouth, per her nasty habit. But instead, she weakly shrugged, stabbing a slice of her chicken with her fork with far more force than necessary.
"Family emergency, apparently," Tracey winced at her use of apparently; she was acutely aware of Daphne's - or rather her sister's - 'situation.'
Finally looking up, Tracey studied Harry's expression; her eyebrows creasing together as his lips formed a silent "O" of understanding. He shifted around as he sat down, the sling that held his injured arm securely against his chest, barely moving an inch. Despite the obvious annoyance, the sling caused him, Harry still smiled up at her, his green eyes shining with an unknown glimmer. Had it been a regular day, Tracey's attention would have remained on the boy's eyes for a few more seconds as she lost herself within their emerald pools. That day, however, she did anything but that. The strange knot forming in her chest prevented her from doing much more than shrugging at his look.
Harry - being the friend that he was, Tracey mused - was quick to notice her rather downtrodden appearance, his face shifting quickly from soft-spoken happiness to worry.
"You all right?" It was such a simple question. One that Tracey found herself struggling to answer.
If she were being honest with herself. No. No, she was far from all right. There in front of her sat the boy who she somehow managed to develop feelings for, and he was asking about another girl. The how, why, or when she started to see him in a different light was lost on her; all she knew was that she did. But, it felt like she was nothing to him. Tracey knew that Harry would fervently decline such a statement had she spouted it, but the feeling lingered like a sadistic parasite.
Each time she watched Daphne and Harry interact, she grew more and more aware of the obvious differences in their relationships. They were quickly heading in the direction of intimacy while she stayed put; acting as the quirky, joyful third wheel.
There had been no vulnerable confessions between her and Harry; no tentative hugs, or sentiments of reassurance that she was important to him, no inside jokes shared between the two. All there had been was the sharing of treats and smiles, they were merely friends. The fact left Tracey shivering as if she were cold.
She felt left behind; alone.
Daphne's statement just before the three snuck around the castle for the first time kept clawing its way to the forefront of her mind.
"Hardly fair?! I'm the one who's going to be helping him, you're just tagging along for the ride!" Was she? Was she honestly just "tagging along for the ride" that would be the eventual escalation of her two friends' relationship?
No. No, she had her plan. It would work, she'd be damned if it didn't.
"M'Fine, Harry," an obvious lie. One that physically hurt to tell. "Just feeling a little out of sorts today is all."
Tracey threw on the best smile she could muster, leaning towards Harry with false eagerness. She could see the worry and doubt that clouded his eyes, his malachite irises studying her amber ones intently. The clear want to help that coated him made Tracey's heart stutter.
Harry frowned disbelievingly; Tracey rolled her eyes at the look, morphing her fake smile into a much more believable and reassuring one.
"I'm fine, Harry," the Gryffindor calmed at Tracey's attempts to placate him, his beanie-wearing friend laying a hand over his to help soothe his fears.
Quickly looking for a change of topic, Tracey shifted slightly, leaning in a bit closer to her friend over the great hall table.
"So, figure out the mystery of the egg yet?" She asked, barely hiding the genuine excitement and curiosity that plagued her, a grin splitting her features.
The Seeker let out a dejected hiss at the question, his face quickly morphing into a glare of annoyance. "Not in the slightest."
Tracey's grin faltered; her amber eyes gaining a dejected hue. The Slytherin studied Harry, worry etched onto her face as she watched him. Tracey had to tear her gaze away from Harry, watching as he tried to use his viable arm to cut his chicken, wincing and growling each time his plate would shift and his progress would be reset. Tracey pitied the poor boy; gently, she wrapped her hands around the edge of his plate to drag it closer to her.
Harry frowned at her actions but allowed Tracey to take her utensils and begin cutting his chicken for him. He watched her intently, silence filling the gap between the two as Tracey cut the poultry, humming softly as she did so. It took a few minutes, - a few minutes of unnerving silence - before Tracey pushed Harry's plate back towards him, earning a barely audible "thanks," for her efforts. Tracey folded her arms together, leaning into them as she placed them on top of the great hall table.
Tracey drummed her fingers along the old wood of the table, shifting her body to rest her cheek in her free hand. Her lips curled into a strange pout as she watched Harry, the boy nibbling and prodding at his lunch as if it were making him sick.
"Yule Ball is coming up."
The statement came out with such a cold indifference that Tracey had surprised herself. She didn't even know exactly why she brought it up; a low chuckle gurgling out of her as she pondered the fact. Maybe her inner Slytherin was finally making an appearance, by snatching up Harry before Daphne had the chance; furthering her own goals while her competition was at a disadvantage. The thought sent a shudder down Tracey's back, the notion that she was taking advantage of Daphne's absence sent a strange squirm through her body.
Harry appeared to frown for a few moments. "McGonagall mentioned something about a ball earlier."
Tracey had to suppress the giggle that threatened to erupt from her throat.
"Any idea who you're gonna ask?" Tracey asked, gently teetering one of her hands towards Harry's free one, her lips toying into a small, hopeful grin. The Seeker's frown deepened as he placed his fork down onto his plate softly.
"I'm not quite sure actually, don't know if I want to go to be terribly honest," The Gryffindor admitted, absentmindedly rubbing his chin as if in thought. Mere seconds later, he let out a defeated groan.
"I'm one of the champions, I'm probably expected -if not forced - to go," he spat the idea out as if the mere thought of going was akin to having to face yet another dragon.
Tracey's smile fell, her eyes darkening as she swallowed thickly. Her throat constricted, the inside feeling as if hundreds of small cactus spines were pricking the soft tissues of her mouth. She hated the feeling. Drawing her hand's back, Tracey gently folded them together on the table once again.
"Well, I'm sure whoever you ask will be a lucky lady," The Slytherin stated. Her voice held a false cheeriness that put Harry on edge, his bright green eyes watching as Tracey tentatively reached into her pocket to acquire one of her many treats.
Harry opened his mouth as if to question Tracey's meaning, his eyes glazing over with confusion. The Slytherin had quickly sought out a new topic; her own eyes landing on the two people that she knew would at least provide some conversation.
"How's the Granger and Weasley situation?" Tracey queried quickly, cutting off whatever question Harry was about to ask.
The Gryffindor's eyes immediately hardened, his jaw clamping shut like a vice; Tracey had a sneaking suspicion that the boy bit his tongue. Harry turned around in his chair, eyeing his former best friends with a strange gleam in his eyes. Tracey measured Ron and Hermione alongside Harry, leaning forward even more until she was almost side-by-side with him.
Granger, for her part, was looking much better than the previous instances when Tracey had laid her eyes on her. Hermione's normally frazzled hair was now a bit tamer, the constant redness of her eyes had dulled to a pathetic pink shade. She didn't look happy, per se, but she definitely looked much more alive and well.
Weasley on the other hand didn't look nearly as sophisticated. His eyes were clouded with worry, his eyes flickering between Harry and Hermione as if contemplating a question. Tracey could feel an intriguing feeling bubble within her. Had they finally prepared to apologize? Or did the two simply move on with their now non-Harry filled lives?
Tracey could feel her lips curl downwards at the latter thought. The thought of no longer having Harry around left her feeling strangely empty.
"Okay, I think?" Harry's voice broke Tracey out of her musings. Her amber eyes snapped to his in rapt attention at his sudden statement. "I think they're planning something. Hermione's been much happier, and Ron gets all flustered whenever I enter the same room as him. It's… strange."
Tracey hummed at the assessment, squirming around over the tabletop as she leaned over it. Letting out a small huff, Tracey climbed over the Slytherin table, finally crossing the threshold of the large slab of wood to sit next to Harry. The boy gave her an odd look at the action, raising an eyebrow in questioning as Tracey adjusted herself in her new seat.
Tracey's amber eyes met his green ones. Upon seeing Harry's confused glance, Tracey offered a shrug. "Was getting tired of leanin' over."
Harry's scrutinizing gaze rested on Tracey for a few more moments, a confused little frown washing over him as he turned to face his plate, still piled high with food. His gaze just barely missed the saddened furrow of a brow from Tracey, her lips quirking into a self-deprecating grin as she too turned to face her plate.
"You excited for the ball, Harry?"
Tracey had no clue why she brought the topic back up as she and Harry wandered aimlessly around the Black Lake, the cold air nipped at her nose and ears, the sensory organs gaining distinct, red hues due to the frigid temperatures. Tracey hooked her finger around the front of her scarf, pulling it up towards her nose as she peered at Harry through the corners of her eyes.
The Seeker merely shrugged as best he could at the question, his pocketed wrist being exposed to the chilled air for a few brief seconds before he lowered them.
"Not particularly," he stated, matter-of-factly. He gave Tracey a small grin as they walked side by side. "Never was a good dancer anyway."
Tracey let out a strange chortle at the revelation.
"I bet either Daphne or me could whip you into shape right quick, Wonder Boy," Tracey stuck her tongue out between her teeth as she joked, cradling a worn-down lollipop in her tongue.
Harry's strides stopped in a heartbeat as he grabbed Tracey's arm, jerking her back to stop her movements. The Slytherin let out a startled yelp at the action, her trademark confection nearly launching itself out of her mouth as she was harshly pulled backward.
"You can dance?" Tracey could feel a sudden heat rush to her face at the question. Harry was looking directly into her amber eyes with a mixture of confusion and wonder.
"Well… yeah, a little bit," the sudden self-consciousness had Tracey rubbing her robed arm. Her eyes darted to look at everything but Harry. Harry let out a low chuckle as he released his grip on Tracey's arm, a cheerful smile split his cheeks in two, as he looked at his companion.
"Well, I guess you two are going to have to teach me before the ball," Tracey's mood instantly brightened. She gave Harry quite possibly the brightest smile he had ever seen; she bounced up and down on her heels in excitement at the prospect of teaching Harry how to dance.
"You… you want me - us, to teach you?" Tracey asked incredulously. Her left eyebrow quirked upwards, nearly being swallowed whole by the fringe of her beanie. Her lips curled into a hopeful little grin at the notion.
Harry shrugged at the question, a lopsided grin quickly schooling his features as he began to tap his chin as if in thought.
"No offense to McGonagall of course, but she's a little old for my tastes," Tracey snorted at the joke, it's second meaning completely flying over her head as she tried to stifle her laughter. As Harry's hidden message clicked in her head, Tracey sobered instantly. Her gaze snapped over to Harry as her jaw hung low.
"You're taking the mickey!" Her accusation held no form of actual annoyance or anger, but rather barely contained amusement. Her lips quivered in every given direction as she struggled to find an appropriate expression to wear. Harry shook his head in denial. Tracey's eyes widened exponentially, her face being marred with unveiled shock.
"You're serious," it was more of a statement than a question. Harry nearly snorted as the words left his friend's mouth. Noticing Tracey's expectant look, Harry offered her a nod of confirmation.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Tracey let out a boisterous laugh, quickly wrapping her arms around Harry's neck to pull the boy into a vicious hug. Despite the wince of pain that erupted from his injured arm, Tracey's hold on him only got tighter. Harry had to admit, Tracey's hugs were eerily similar to Hermione's in the way they constricted his body in their seemingly endless grasps; the only difference being Tracey's tendency to attempt to lift Harry off of the ground despite her shorter stature.
It took a few moments for Harry to reciprocate the hug, but when he did, Tracey nearly melted right into his side. A content sigh escaped Tracey's lips as she squeezed Harry, the feeling of his arms wrapped around her waist did wonders to her imagination. Tracey looked up at Harry's glorious green eyes with an unrestrained smile, her amber eyes glowing in the slowly dimming sun.
"I promise, you won't regret this Harry!" Tracey cheered, grabbing Harry's hands with hers in an act of excitement.
Harry's own excitement shone through in the act of a rapidly growing smile; squeezing Tracey's hands with his own, Harry watched with barely contained glee as Tracey began listing off the various forms of dancing she and Daphne would eventually teach him upon the latter's return. Listening along as Tracey pre-planned his dancing regiment, Harry noticed that Tracey was acting like a much more disorganized and frantic Hermione in her planning methods. Harry laughed at the thought. Merlin forbid, Hermione hear her name, and the term disorganized uttered in the same sentence.
Harry simply nodded along as Tracey rambled on and on about how she was going to make Harry sweep his date off her feet with his "soon to be impeccable dance moves;" how they were going to teach him how to waltz, tango, and rumba. Tracey's eyes shone with excitement and glee, her hands shooting in various directions as she exclaimed said excitement. Faster and faster, the prospect of having to attend the ball became bearable.
And who Harry was going to ask to accompany him quickly became just as clear.
"Hey, Harry?"
The Seeker let out a hum, turning to face Tracey with a raised eyebrow.
The moment is vision blackened, Harry went rigid. His hands curled into tight fists as his breath hitched in his throat. Had Tracey not let out a mischievous laugh, and the crunching of leaves and dirt beneath boots not rung in his ears, Harry would've sworn he was just thrown back under his cupboard at Number 4 Privet Drive.
The sweet sound of Tracey's laughter seemed to carry itself through the forest, however, instantly calming Harry as he pushed his blindfold up out of his eyes. The texture made it clear that it was Tracey's beloved beanie; the girl in question, looking over her shoulder as she sprinted away from where Harry was currently standing, laughter escaping her with every step as her shoulders shook with mirth.
Her waist-length, wavy brown hair practically flew in the wind; trailing behind her like some kind of cape, her lack of headwear allowed foreign strands to flow freely in the air as they jutted out in numerous directions.
She looked so peaceful; so free. Freedom that Harry longed for so desperately.
Letting his own grin form, Harry was quick to begin chasing after the girl. Upon noticing his newfound movement, Tracey let out a small squeal of exhilaration, followed by another string of blithe laughter.
The sound made Harry's heart, ache unusually.
It was not unlike the way his heart would fumble every time Daphne would show off her near-perfect smile; or when she'd quietly mumble just how much she cared for her "favorite, idiot Gryffindor."
The ache made Harry want to fall to his knees and let out strangled cries. But not of pain or sadness, but some uncouth combination of happiness and pure, unaltered ecstasy.
Despite the strange feeling in his chest, Harry didn't relent in his chase for the Half-Blood Slytherin, often shouting various shallow threats of what he was going to do once he caught the girl. Each new statement was met with another bout of beautiful hysterics. Harry swore he was developing an addiction to the sound.
As Harry finally managed to snag Tracey's collar between his fingers, the girl let out a strangely symphonic yelp and laugh combination. Her high-pitched squall delving into hardly repressed laughter as Harry managed to wrap his viable arm around her midsection. The Gryffindor lifted the running Slytherin off of her feet, twirling around as to land on his back to take the brunt of the impact as the two fell unceremoniously. It wasn't without pain, however, as his injured arm cried out in protest, the only thing stopping Harry from passing out due to pain being the numerous numbing charms Madame Pomfrey had cast hours earlier.
Tracey cackled wildly through the exchange, none the wiser to Harry's slowly subsiding pain; Harry had to tighten his hold around her navel multiple times to prevent her from falling off of him. As her laughter died down to body-shaking giggles and snickers, Harry allowed his grip to loosen as he laughed alongside her.
There was something oddly perfect about the moment. A moment Harry no doubt would cherish forever.
With his good arm wrapped around Tracey's waist, one of her hands clasped over top of his while her free hand reached behind her head to fiddle with his hair that had been poking out from underneath her beanie. The rays of the slowly setting sun peered through the trees, casting the two and their wayward animal companions on a softening orange glow. Tracey was as still as one of the many Hogwarts statues as laid on top of him; though with his head perfectly nestled within the small of her neck, Harry hardly complained. He could smell the distinct sweetness of Tracey's candies in her skin and hair. The only downside to the situation being the slight, pulsating pain in his wounded arm.
The moment was so innocent and pure; so intimate. Tracey lay on top of him as the two now stared up into the darkening sky; the clouds painted in oranges, reds, and purples as the sunset over the horizon. They truly were best friends.
But with each passing day, the term best friends seemed to apply less and less to Harry's relationship to his two Slytherins. While Hermione and Ron still held a strange pedestal for being Harry's first-ever friends at Hogwarts, Daphne and Tracey were in a whole new category for him.
They elicited a whole new emotion from him. An emotion Harry desperately wished to understand.
Luckily, with each fleeting hug, and each chase through the halls of Hogwarts and among the forest and black lake; with each mutual silence shared and small smile sent, Harry slowly began to understand the emotion.
He began to understand love.
He just didn't know it yet.
"We should probably head back to the castle, Trace," Harry whispered into her ear.
Tracey shuddered at the sensation of his warm breath trickled its way down her back; goosebumps cascading over her skin as she let out a combination of a whimper and a sigh.
"But I'm comfortable, Harry," she whined, pouting as she squirmed under his grasp, turning to face the boy underneath her. The sight that awaited her sent her heart into overdrive.
The setting sun highlighted his emerald eyes in the most perfect way possible; his teeth were edged in his lopsided grin. Small tufts of his jet black hair peeked out from underneath her beanie, barely covering his lightning bolt scar with its jagged edges. Tracey so desperately wanted to run her hands through his messy locks; to feel every inch of his skin she could reach at this very moment until it became ingrained in her nerves.
"I'm comfortable too, but," Tracey let out another whimper as he tore his gaze from hers, studying their surroundings. "Can't really sleep by the lake now can we?"
"Sure we could!" The Slytherin protested, letting out an indignant huff when Harry let out a bout of chuckles.
"And piss off McGonagall and Snape?" Harry let out a belly laugh that Tracey could feel in her stomach, sending pleasant vibrations through her core as his arms tightened around her. "Contrary to popular belief, I want to live, Trace."
Tracey snickered at the joke, slapping Harry's chest playfully.
"Snape would probably accuse me of kidnapping you," Harry muttered into her shoulder as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck to help stifle his laughter. "D'You reckon he'd do that?"
Tracey had to suppress the moan that welled within her throat at the feeling of Harry's breath against her neck, his teeth accidentally grazing over the soft flesh as well.
"I don't doubt it, that's for sure," She mumbled.
This. This was what she wanted. This peace, this warmth. All shared between her and her two best friends. She knew that it could - would - work out, it was just like a puzzle. They were the puzzle pieces, and Tracey knew that they'd fit together seamlessly.
Harry chuckled at Tracey's comment, gently lifting his companion off of him despite her protests. Standing up and dusting any debris off of his clothing, he offered the pouting Tracey a hand of aid.
"Come on, let's head back." Tracey crossed her arms, shrinking her head into her shoulder as she pouted indignantly. Despite the childishness, Harry laughed at her antics.
"I'll carry you if I have to Trace." He warned, slowly edging backward in the direction of the Scottish castle as if he was planning to leave without her.
Tracey beamed at the prospect of being carried, leaping up onto her feet and onto Harry's back moments laughter in a forced piggy-back ride. She wrapped her arms around Harry's neck to not fall, pointing her finger out vaguely in the direction of the Hogwarts. Tracey perched her ahead atop Harry's shoulder as he began walking, readjusting herself each time he'd wince or hiss at any pains in his mauled arm.
"Forward steed! The castle awaits!" She commanded, laughing alongside Harry as he let out quieted chuckles.
The wind howled in her ears, the sounds of life and wilderness offering the perfect soundtrack for what Tracey considered a perfect moment. She let out a content sigh as she relaxed against Harry's back, her head falling into a perfect place in the crook of his neck.
"Just like a puzzle piece," she mused.
(A/N): Probably noticed that this is a very Tracey-centric chapter, I noticed the distinct lack of her presence, alongside some others, so I decided to dedicate this one to explore her just a little more. I also apologize that's it's a bit shorter than the previous chapters, I'm trying to find a median that I'm comfortable writing in.
I was also asked about a discord server earlier this week. If that's something y'all would be interested in, let me know!
Also, I want to mention how these little in between chapters where it's just character interactions are not my forte, so any suggestions or help would be greatly appreciated. I'm learning while I write!
Huge thanks to everyone following this story, hope you stick around for the next chapter!
