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Chapter 12

Scanning the Great Hall with her eyes has become her habit early in the first year. With time, that habit turned into an obsession. Daphne has always admired her father for his ability to pick up the slightest, seemingly unimportant details that, when put together, were able to shed entirely new light on the case he was working on. It was no wonder that he managed to climb the ranks of the Department of Mysteries so quickly. Ever since Daphne could remember, she tried to mimic her father's actions during various parties their family has attended, giving her enough time and opportunities to practice that particular skill. And when the time came for her to go to Hogwarts, she knew that she would be capable of mastering that ability within the walls of the ancient Castle.

It was no different that morning; her hands followed the usual routine of delivering food into her mouth while her eyes and mind were focused on other students, attempting to see through the surface, as always. It's a real pity that they don't teach Legilimency at Hogwarts, she mused. As usual, the rational side of her mind rushed with explanations for that. Not everyone can learn it, a voice in her head said. It should be an elective subject then, she countered swiftly. Then Occlumency would be a mandatory subject, which can be equally as difficult as Legilimency. She closed her eyes for a few seconds to consider that argument.

Daphne has had a similar conversation within her mind many times since she'd started attending Hogwarts; it was an argument against her rational side that she knew she couldn't win, at least not at that particular moment. There were too many risks in teaching growing teenagers the mysteries of the Magic of the Mind. There wouldn't be any way to contain their usage of Legilimency only to classes, which would lead to many cases of abuse towards those who didn't know Occlumency. Daphne shuddered slightly at the mere thought of someone penetrating the depths of her mind without her being even aware of that fact. Although she had no problems with any of the school subjects, she wasn't sure if she would be able to protect her mind efficiently at all times. After all, Occlumency wasn't something that could be learned from a single book. Theoretically, there were as many ways of raising shields around one's mind as there were people on Earth. With a sigh, Daphne silently admitted defeat.

However, as her eyes stopped their usual routine across the Great Hall and rested on Harry Potter, she couldn't help but wish she knew Legilimency. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she observed him eating his breakfast, scratching his forehead from time to time. Due to the distance separating them, she couldn't tell if his scar was bleeding again, but it didn't take a genius to notice that it was causing him discomfort, to say the least. If she recalled correctly, it was the first time she had seen it causing him pain in the first place.

There was something that didn't add up in Daphne's opinion. No scar, especially one left by the curse that should have killed the boy, opened up by itself. Not to mention that the infamous lightning mark was thirteen years old, and it still looked as if he got it only a few days earlier. Although Potter rarely paid any attention during Potions, never before has he completely dozed off in classes as she had seen the day before. There was no way that his absent staring at the parchment with instructions wasn't connected to his bleeding and swollen scar; Daphne just knew that. The question remained: how were the two things connected? She bit the inside of her cheek, reliving their conversation after the Potions. Potter was agitated more than usually, and his behavior was weird even for his standards. Even though Daphne was more than certain that he wasn't aware of it, his eyes were moving in every direction, never stopping in one spot for more than a few seconds. It was almost as if he expected something bad to happen.

She gritted her teeth as she remembered the Map he had shown her. Until the day before, Daphne had always felt somewhat safe at Hogwarts. Of course, there were numerous accidents, usually connected to Potter, happening across the years, but she never felt directly threatened by them. And yet, that single piece of parchment he had shown her has managed to completely strip her off of her sense of security and privacy. The dot with her name was constantly flashing in front of her mind's eyes, reminding her that she would never be able to find a safe place of solitude within the walls of Hogwarts anymore.

Perhaps I should tell Professor Snape, she mused, stirring the pumpkin juice with her hand. Potter already knew that something was off with her sister only by looking at the Map late at night. It's just… it sort of turned into a habit for me to study it, I guess, his words echoed in her mind. It was as if he slapped her across her face and then laughed at her, while at the same time being in a completely different part of the Castle. No matter where she went, Potter would know that. He would be able to see her every action from the safety of his own bed. She gritted her teeth even more tightly as her eyes continued digging holes in the boy at the Gryffindor's Table.

He hasn't done anything with that Map, though, the same voice that argued with her earlier said. Once again, Daphne closed her eyes, thinking that information through and through. That Map had had to be in his possession since the start of the fourth year, at least, and she hadn't heard of any mysterious accident since October, except for Potter's entry into the Tournament. She tilted her head to the side, once again looking at the Gryffindor Table and its occupants. Perhaps I should be grateful that he has that Map and not someone else, she mused, sipping on her pumpkin juice. She didn't allow her mind to wonder what would happen if Malfoy had access to that Map and would be able to see where she was at any time he wanted. Maybe he deserves the benefit of the doubt, she summed up after a few seconds.

"I never thought I would see you ogling a boy so openly," a voice next to her spoke, instantly bringing Daphne out of her musings. She closed her eyes with a heavy sigh, turning her head to her left. Tracey was sitting on the bench next to her, grinning into her own cup of pumpkin juice.

"You seem to be in a terribly good mood this morning," Daphne commented slowly, not giving her friend the satisfaction of replying to her accusation. "Did Blaise ask you to the Ball?" Tracey's grin widened even more.

"Just this morning," she confirmed. "You should have seen it. You know what Blaise is usually like, right? Always so composed and sure of himself, and he was just so adorably shy and afraid when he approached me today," Tracey said, sighing contently. "He was just muttering sweet nonsense when I finally decided to relieve him of his suffering and silenced him." She grinned again. "I don't think he minded, though."

Daphne raised her eyebrow at that, quickly finding Blaise with her eyes a few seats away from them. It didn't take long for the Slytherin boy to feel her gaze on him as he raised his head after a few seconds. Their eyes met, and Blaise's eyebrow also rushed upward, mimicking Daphne's features. She saw him snorting and shaking his head before he looked away, knowing fully well what caused her to look at him.

"And I've let you do that again," Tracey sighed, placing the empty cup on the table. "How can you distract me so easily from my questions?"

"You've said it yourself a few days ago that you're learning from the best," Daphne replied, shrugging her shoulders. Tracey snorted at that, shaking her head in disbelief. "And I wasn't… ogling him, as you put it," she continued, earning herself another snort from Tracey.

"Are you waiting for Potter to pluck up the courage and ask you to the Ball?" Tracey asked, failing to conceal the grin that found its way onto her lips. Daphne rolled her eyes. "I would suggest you don't wait and take the matters into your own hands. There are quite a few girls who have been ogling him as well," she added, purposefully ignoring Daphne's cold glare.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said after a few seconds of digging holes into her friend's head. "Besides, I'm more than sure that he's going to ask Chang."

As if on cue, the two girls looked at the Ravenclaw Seeker. The Asian girl was sitting there, surrounded by a few of her friends, but she wasn't facing them. Instead, her whole body was twisted, and she was looking at something over her shoulder. Daphne quickly followed her gaze with her eyes, having no problems identifying what she was looking at. Or rather, who she was looking at. Once again that morning, her eyes found Potter, just in time to see some of the pumpkin juice escaping his lips as he smiled at the Ravenclaw Seeker. Daphne barely held a groan of disgust.

"You have to do something, or the opportunity will slip away from right under your nose," Tracey whispered. Even though she wasn't looking at her, Daphne could clearly hear the grin in her voice.

"I wonder if I should tell him that Chang's waiting for Cedric to ask her," she muttered more to herself than anyone in particular. However, her voice was loud enough for her friend to hear.

"So, you have been thinking about going with Potter," Tracey commented, leaning against the Slytherin Table. Once again, Daphne raised her eyebrow.

"I don't see how you could possibly jump to such a conclusion," she countered.

Whatever Tracey wanted to say next was stopped by a flock of owls that flew into the Great Hall, carrying letters, copies of the Daily Prophet, and small parcels to a large number of students. Daphne looked up towards the ceiling, quickly noticing a brown, well-groomed bird. Celeste, her family's owl, landed gracefully in front of her; a small letter was attached to her leg. Daphne caressed the bird's feathers right under its beak before untying the tiny red string. She wasn't surprised when she recognized her father's handwriting.

"What's that?"

"I wrote to my parents yesterday about Tori's attack," Daphne whispered, careful more than ever not to be overheard by other students at their table. Luckily for her, other Slytherins have quickly learned that it was best to leave the Ice Queen alone during meals, so there were a couple of empty seats between her and the next person. "Father just says that he's grateful for letting him know and for the fact that Tori's doing better," she summarized the short letter to her friend before hiding it in her school bag. She rubbed the owl's feathers once again before the brown bird flew up into the air and left the Great Hall.

"Poor Tori," Tracey muttered, looking down at her plate. She shuddered slightly as she recalled the state of her best friend's sister. Daphne nodded her head slowly.

"Fortunately, she's doing fine now," she replied, not allowing the images of her sister in bed to flood her mind.

"Yeah, but still…" Tracey trailed off, not daring to finish the sentence. Once again, Daphne nodded in agreement.

Her eyes returned to scanning the Great Hall, and, after a dozen or so seconds, they stopped once again on her Potions partner. Harry was leaning over the table with a wide grin on his face and a small piece of parchment in his hands.

Harry, Padfoot, and I managed to find a way to meet with you during the Christmas Break. If you decide to return to London, I'll be waiting for you at King's Cross. Write to me as quickly as you can with an answer and destroy this letter. If you come, take the Egg with you. Moony.

P.S. don't send Hedwig – she's too recognizable.

Harry read the letter three times to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on his mind. However, there was no way he could misread, not to mention the long, silver feather that was delivered to him alongside the letter. A wide grin appeared on his face as he read the short message once again.

"You know what, Neville?" he asked the other Gryffindor, who was, once again, sitting next to him during breakfast. The blonde boy raised his eyebrow, unable to ask as his mouth was filled with a large piece of sandwich he was eating. "Scratch what I've said yesterday; I'm definitely returning for Christmas," he informed him, still grinning widely, as he started ripping the latter into tiny shreds.

Harry could barely sit through the Transfiguration. His leg was moving up and down rapidly beneath the table, and the form, required from each student who wanted to return for Christmas Break, was lying between the pages of the book. He tried listening to Professor McGonagall's lecture, but he barely managed to hear anything.

The class lasted way too long, in Harry's opinion, and when it was finally over, he quickly left the table he shared with Neville and rushed after his Head of the House towards her office. Harry spared a few seconds to calm his breathing before softly knocking on the wooden door. He stepped inside only after receiving Professor McGonagall's permission to enter.

"What is it, Mr. Potter?" the older woman asked, looking up at him from above the scroll with some student's assignment.

"I wanted to give you the form for returning to London for Christmas Break, Professor," Harry said, removing the small piece of parchment from the Transfiguration book; he placed it on the table.

McGonagall picked it up and read it quickly. "You never wanted to visit your family before, Mr. Potter," she commented as she read the explanation of where he was planning to stay; an additional crease appeared on her forehead. "What's the sudden change, if I may ask?"

"I didn't mean my relatives, Professor," Harry spoke slowly. She knows the truth about Sirius, he repeated to himself for the hundredth time. "I meant… my godfather. And Moony," he added.

"Potter," McGonagall sighed, rubbing her face after removing the glasses from her nose. "That's a highly irresponsible decision, even for your standards," she said, looking him straight in the eyes. "How do you even know it's safe for you to leave Hogwarts, knowing what happened at the World Cup?"

"With all due respect, Professor, as much as I love Hogwarts, It's not the safest place for me either," Harry countered swiftly, shifting his weight from one leg to another. "It hasn't been for the past three years, and neither is it now with this whole Tournament going on," he continued. A small pang of guilt entered his heart as his Head of the House sighed heavily again, and grief found its way onto her face.

"But, at least, Professor Dumbledore is here," Professor McGonagall said weakly, rubbing her temples.

"He hasn't been here when Quirrell went for the Philosopher's Stone," Harry countered softly. "He hasn't been here when I went down to the Chamber to rescue Ginny. And I'm not saying that he's not a great wizard, because I'm sure he is, but he wasn't the one who taught me last year how to defend myself against the Dementors," he continued, earning himself another heavy sigh from his Head of the House. "And even though he knew that I didn't enter my name, he did nothing to prevent me from participating in the Tournament. Again, Professor, I admire Professor Dumbledore more than anyone else, but his presence is not a guarantee of safety. And I simply want to spend Christmas with the only family I have," he added softly.

"Where did you even get the idea of spending Christmas with them in the first place, Mr. Potter?" she asked, though her voice lacked its previous reprimanding tone; it was defeated, resigned.

"I've got a letter from Professor Lupin earlier today," Harry informed her. "He said that he and Sirius have found a way to meet with me safely."

"And how can you be sure that it isn't just some plot simply to get you out of the Castle?" McGonagall tried again. "May I see that letter?" she pleaded. "Simply to check if no one has tampered with it."

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I've already destroyed it," Harry replied. "It was safer that way, but I have this as a confirmation," he added quickly, pulling out Buckbeak's feather from his bag before McGonagall managed to say anything. He handed the item to his Head of the House to examine it. It took a few seconds before a realization glistened in her eyes.

"It belongs to that Hippogriff that Black escaped on, right?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. Harry simply nodded his head in confirmation. Professor McGonagall sighed again before grabbing a quill that she put away the moment Harry entered her office. Faster than he could blink, the older woman signed the form and handed it back to him. "Here you go, Mr. Potter, but please, be careful, my boy," she practically whispered.

"I'll do my best, Professor," Harry replied with a smile, accepting the small paper. McGonagall smiled as well, though it was clear as day that it was forced.

"And remember about the Ball."

"I remember about that, Professor," he assured her with a heavy sigh. "I promise I'll go find someone soon."

"Can't you ask Ms. Granger, for example?" McGonagall offered. "The two of you have been best friends since I can remember."

"Hermione and I are not exactly on speaking terms right now," Harry replied slowly, looking down at his feet. "Thank you again, Professor. Goodbye," he said, quickly leaving her office without waiting for a response.

Harry wasted no time in running towards the Owlery. After receiving the permission to return to London for Christmas, he wanted to inform both Moony and Padfoot that he would arrive at King's Cross. The grin that found its way onto his face during breakfast, while reading the latter, returned to his lips with full strength. The prospect of seeing his godfather and one of his father's closest friends was, in his opinion, the best thing that had happened to him since the beginning of the Tournament.

With the first snow covering the grounds around Hogwarts, the path to the Owlery was slippery. The rain from the previous day had frozen during the night, and the stone stairs were covered with a thin but treacherous layer of ice, carrying the threat of a twisted ankle or a broken limb if one wasn't careful enough; the frozen water was hidden beneath the freshly fallen snow. Harry had almost lost his balance once or twice as he sprinted upwards, not looking at the ground beneath his feet. He didn't want to think about what would have happened if he didn't manage to grab the railing in the last second possible.

The owlery was, as always, filled with birds who sought refuge from the snow that was falling outside. The stone floor, the alcoves, and practically every surface of the tower's interior, were covered with dried droppings. However, even as Harry made his way to the small table in the center, none of them stuck to his shoes. Magic, he commented, fishing out a small piece of parchment from his bag. The table and the bags with owl treats were also, mysteriously, saved from the birds' droppings.

He dipped the tip of his quill in the inkwell and started writing his response. Just as Moony's letter, his answer was short as well. Obviously, Harry confirmed that he would be at King's Cross, though not at the usual time. He wrote about the Yule Ball that was supposed to happen on Christmas Eve Night and that he would return to London the next day.

When he finished writing his response, Harry folded the letter and grabbed a few owl treats from a nearby bag. The birds were looking at him expectantly – each and every one of them became more lively at the prospect of a flight and receiving a snack. Apparently, the charms on the bags prevented the owls from snatching the treats on their own.

"Sorry, girl," Harry muttered with a forced smile, looking at Hedwig, who was flapping her wings excitedly. "Not today," he said, rubbing the feathers beneath her beak. Her yellow eyes seemed to become duller after hearing his words. Harry lifted his hand and offered the bird a couple of treats as an apology. Hedwig snatched them from his fingers almost instantly, softly biting the tips of his digits in the process. Harry chuckled at that, though the previous excitement didn't return to Hedwig's eyes. "Go fly around a little, girl," he whispered affectionately. The snowy-white owl hooted a few times before it stretched its wings and left the owlery.

After grabbing a few more treats, Harry approached another owl. The bird had ruffled brown feathers and seemed to be in the middle of grooming itself, but as soon as it became obvious that he was walking towards it, it stopped its actions and looked at the young boy expectantly. "Are you up for a flight?" Harry asked, hesitantly lifting his hand to rub the owl's belly. His efforts turned out to be in vain, though, as the bird bit his fingers immediately, not allowing him to touch it. However, the small creature hooted twice and flapped its wings. "Find Remus John Lupin," Harry whispered, attaching the letter to the bird's leg. He watched as its eyes lit up for a split second, memorizing the owl's destination. "Try not to be seen and don't allow anyone to capture you," he added, offering the treats to the bird. The brown owl snatched them from his fingers immediately, though it wasn't nearly as careful as Hedwig. Harry held back a groan as the bird bit the tips of his digits painfully; a tiny droplet of blood appeared next to his fingernail.

Harry watched with a satisfied smile as the owl flew out of the tower, heading south. It wasn't long before the bird disappeared amidst the falling snow. After grabbing his school bag from the table, Harry left the Owlery.

He didn't make it far, though, before he was sent to the ground. His butt collided with the stone floor, and two grunts of pain echoed across the Owlery at the same time. Correcting his glasses, Harry stood up, ready to give the person he collided with a piece of his mind.

The words got stuck in his throat, however, as he recognized who he had run into; in front of him, struggling to stand up from the ice-covered stairs, was Cho. Harry could feel his throat going dry instantly.

"Would you mind?" the Asian girl asked, looking at him expectantly. It took Harry a few seconds to understand what she was talking about. Fighting fruitlessly against the blush which was forming on his cheeks, he offered her his hand, helping her stand up. He felt sparkles going up his arm when the Ravenclaw Seeker grabbed his hand, even though her skin was unpleasantly cold.

"Sorry for bumping into you; I wasn't looking," he apologized; the words were falling from his mouth much more quickly than he planned. However, if the small smile Cho sent him was any indication, she had no trouble understanding him.

"It's okay," she replied, brushing off the snow that stuck to her robes. "I should have been more careful as well," she added with another smile that turned Harry's stomach into a pleasant mess. It was the same smile she gave him during the train ride and earlier that day during breakfast.

It took him a few seconds to realize that he was staring at her as Cho shifted her gaze from his face to the Owlery behind his back. The genuineness of her smile slowly turned into awkwardness as they kept standing at the entrance to the tower.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, breaking the silence that surrounded them, broken only by sporadic hoots from the owls. He stepped aside, allowing her to enter. Once again, she smiled at him in gratitude, though it was more strained than the previous one. "Cho?" he asked before he could stop his mouth from moving.

"Yes?" the girl replied, turning in his direction. Her black hair swirled due to her sudden movement, enticing Harry with its beauty, which was only emphasized by the tiny snowflakes resting on top of her head. He swallowed hard. Now or never, he told himself, attempting to gather his courage. However, if the dryness of his throat was any indication, his courage didn't follow him all the way up to the Owlery. You fought against Voldemort, the Basilisk, the Dementors, and the dragon, he reminded himself.

"Would you…? Would you go to the Ball with me?" he asked. Just as before, the words flowed from his mouth with an uncontrollable speed. Heat rushed into his cheek once more. Harry took a small step backward, hoping to blame the redness on his face on the cold temperature outside.

"I… I didn't understand. Could you repeat?" Cho asked gently. She understood you earlier, a voice in his mind whispered, though Harry paid it no mind. He breathed in deeply and cleared his throat, repeating the same question. That time, he made sure to say it at a normal pace. "Oh, Harry," Cho commented, looking at her feet. The last remnants of her smile quickly disappeared from her face and a tight knot formed in Harry's stomach before she even answered his question. "I… I've already been asked by someone else," Cho muttered. She was still looking at her feet. "And I've said yes," she continued. The knot in Harry's stomach only grew larger. "I'm sorry, Harry; I'm sure you'll find someone else to go to the Ball with. You've still got time."

Harry nodded his head a couple of times, scratching the back of his neck. "Okay," he managed to say, though the knot in his stomach and the large bile in his throat made it difficult for him to speak. "Okay," he repeated, smiling awkwardly. Cho smiled as well, though the emotions Harry felt previously upon seeing it weren't there. He took another step backward. "Watch for the floor," he added, clearing his throat a couple of times. "It's a… it's quite messy in there," he clarified, pointing at the Owlery.

"Thanks," Cho muttered, turning around. Waving his hand at her, unnoticed by the Ravenclaw Seeker, Harry turned around as well and hurried down the stairs.

"Perfect," he muttered to himself, hiding his hands in the pockets of his robes. "Just perfect." Rarely did he wish for the ground to split beneath his feet and swallow him whole, but that was exactly what he desired at that moment more than anything in the entire world.

That's it for today. As always, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I know that you don't want Harry to go with Cho to the Ball, and trust me, neither do I. But, as I've said before, the changes to the canon will be introduced slowly, as well as the romance between him and Daphne. At this point, Harry still has a crush on Cho, and I felt that I had to include that scene. As you could see, it differed slightly from the movie version, and I was doing my best to make it somewhat realistic and their conversation to be awkward. I hope I've managed that. See you next time!