A/n: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Sorry about taking for so long for this chapter. Was working on other stuff and wasn't quite sure how I wanted to portray this scene. I hope that it's satisfactory.

Prompt: Several Deep Breaths (#127)

"There's a ship that sails by my window,
There's a ship that sails on by.
There's a world under it,
I think I see it sailing away."

-Mazzy Star, Blue Light

"So I hear you were cleared," Tracey stated somewhat sardonically as she slipped into the seat next to Potter after lunch, the only seat at the table left.

When she'd come into the kitchen for lunch, it was to the ruckus of the twins and the red-head girl chanting, 'He got off' repeatedly and quite loudly. Their childish antics would have been amusing, if Tracey could find herself to be amused by such immature silliness, but after hiding the remainder of the morning in her room studying, she was over-weary.

"Yeah," Potter replied, a bit sheepishly. Tracey raised a brow but didn't say anything as she proceeded to pile food on her plate. She had to give it to Mrs. Weasley, apart from being kind and nurturing, she was a very good cook. The food was as good as what the House-elves at Hogwarts made.

The remainder of the meal, Tracey remained quiet and as soon as she finished, excused herself from the table. She was headed for the door, when it suddenly open admitting her godfather. Immediately, the chatter form the Gryffindors quieted as they turned and noted who had entered.

"No need to get up, I've merely come to speak to Tracey," Severus spoke in his silky-tones, coolly addressing Mrs. Weasley before she was able to do more than shift in her seat, his eyes coldly surveying the room while a sneer appeared on his lips. Tracey felt her brows raise, she hadn't really been expecting a visit from her godfather, certainly not in the middle of the day. "Come along, Tracey."

Following behind her godfather, Tracey trooped silently after him all the way to her bedroom. "These arrived for you," he stated without preamble, pulling a pair of letters form his robes and handing them over. Tracey barely cast a glance on the writing on each, before setting them on her nightstand and turning to Severus. She knew that he hadn't come merely to give her a couple letters form her friends, the term used very loosely. "I also thought I should tell you, before it was officially out."

"Tell me what?" Tracey asked, her brow furrowing a little. She had a feeling that this wasn't going to be good.

"A decision has been reached for who ill be made Prefects this yer," Severus replied. "Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson have been chosen."

Tracey blinked for a few seconds in disbelief, unable to comprehend what was just said to her, as it seemed far too ludicrous to be plausible. She wasn't sure why, but she felt like she'd just been slapped in the face. It didn't quite hurt, but she was certainly stunned. While the appointment of Draco Malfoy came as no surprise, considering who his father was and the fact that in spite of being a pompous arrogant ass, he wasn't stupid, the appointment of Pansy simply made no sense to her.

"Pansy Parkinson? Pansy was chosen? You selected Pansy over myself and Daphne Greengrass?" Tracey asked, after taking a few seconds to recover form her shock and compose herself. In all honesty, something so trivial shouldn't have bothered her. She didn't even particularly want the position of Prefect. Yet, she couldn't help feeling something inside her... becoming stronger and stronger the more time she had to think this over.

While Pansy was by no means incapable of some intellectual thought, at least where some things were concerned, she wasn't terribly intelligent either. She wasn't remotely clever, or subtle, and as bossy and haughty as she endeavored to be, her authority wasn't taken too seriously. Pansy only did enough to have pleasing grades for her parents, but that meant nothing. The girl barely had any common sense, and she was a silly girl and her talent for magic was completely average and lackluster. She was absolutely mediocre in every possible way.

Daphne made a better candidate by being more cunning and clever, not to mention quite a bit more serious even if she spent most of her efforts rebelling against being the perfect daughter. Not to mention, was too self-absorbed to even care about her sister, much less anyone else in their House.

And Tracey, Tracey was his goddaughter! And to top it off, she was a model student and worked hard to be a highly competent witch. She spent hours studying and working on her spell and charm work every day since she found out she was a witch. Even before she was in school, she'd tried hard to control her "accidental" magic. How someone like Pansy could be picked over her, was insulting and demeaning.

"While Miss Greengrass would make the better candidate for prefect, she wouldn't be the least bit inclined. And I'm certain I don't need to explain why you can't be Prefect," Severus stated, giving her a pointed look. However, Tracey didn't care at the moment.

"So what, am I never to stand out in any way? I'm never going to be anything but the girl painted in the background because my dad's a Death Eater and I'm his bastard child that no one should know about?" Tracey asked, her hands clenching into fists without her being conscious of it as her tone became gradually heated. "I'm supposed to be just some stupid, invisible little wallflower, barely living a life and all the while becoming completely obscure and irrelevant? Does what I want even matter? Does it matter that I just want to be my own person? To live a normal life where I don't have to be afraid of where I come from, or someone finding out?"

"Stop that this instant, Tracey. You're acting like a child! Life isn't fair and whining about it isn't going to change anything," Severus snapped.

"I'm fifteen! I have a right to want a normal life, after everything's been shit for so long!" Tracey cried angrily, her face turning red in her anger from the exertion of trying to keep her cool. "Pansy is a fucking moron! She hasn't worked hard enough to deserve this and neither has Draco for that matter! Theodore should be Prefect and I should be Prefect!"

"Theodore lacks the ability to assert himself, and the drive to curtail the behavior of others. And as much as you deserve to be Prefect, there are more important things than a shiny badge and a few extra privileges. Your life is worth more than that," Severus stated when Tracey had reigned in her anger, though she was still struggling to breathe and her fists were still balled up.

He'd known that this wasn't going to go over well, which was why he'd wanted to tell her in person and he thought it was best she found out through him, then through Parkinson's own gloating. Over the years, he'd seen Tracey work hard at her studies. He'd watched her as she tirelessly and determinedly worked through any of her shortcomings to make her work more than merely adequate.

Having personally been in a similar situation growing up, always desiring some kind of recognition for your hard work, he knew what it felt like when you were overlooked. You spent most of your life overlooked and being made by others to feel less than you are, that each passing rejection and disappointment only serves to embitter you and as much as he wanted to save Tracey from that, he couldn't give her this. Even if it would have given her, perhaps, some sense of normalcy.

"I know that you are disappointed-"

"I don't want to hear it Severus," Tracey stated, turning away from him and marching over to the window to stare out; she was still struggling with the anger coursing through her. She could feel herself trembling with her efforts to stuff it back into the box, away with all the rest of her emotions. "Please... just go away."

Beside her, her fists were trembling. She could feel tears of frustration building in her eyes, blurring her vision of the muggle teens roughhousing outside Grimmauld. She could feel something rising in her throat, feel it take root there and seem to swell and it took all her will to stifle it and keep from bubbling up. But it wasn't sobs that stuck there but something more feral.

Tracey wanted to scream.

Her composure was slipping, she felt it as her body started to shake with rage that she was struggling to keep contained.

"Go away, Severus," Tracey grit out, her hair falling to shield her face as she started to pace rapidly, in an attempt of ridding herself of the pent up energy welling inside her. Digging her heels into her eyes, she listened impatiently for his retreat. When she didn't hear it, she shakily ran her fingers through her hair, for a moment gripping it tightly and painfully in her fists before pulling them away swiftly and turning to glare at Severus who still hadn't left.

"Get out!" her voice came out loudly, gutturally, but it didn't seem to startle Severus. He merely stood there for a moment longer, clearly wary of leaving her to her own devices before nodding his head and exiting without another word.

As soon as the door shut, Tracey wrenched a pillow off the four-poster and clenching it tightly in her hands, placed it tightly against her mouth before clenching her eyes shut, doubling over and screaming. She knew that the pillow was barely able to muffle her screams, but she didn't care as she continued to scream and scream... until falling to the floor, her energy depleted and her throat having gone hoarse from the poor treatment towards her larynx.

Kneeling in a heap next to the bed, Tracey felt her fingers finally going lax, holding the pillow now limply in her hands as she leaned her head against the side of the mattress feeling blessedly now as though she'd been hollowed out. Somehow that.. that was easier than having to feel like a weak and caged bird... one without a choice... without a right to freedom.

She wasn't sure how long she knelt there, completely immobile and silent, barely aware of her breathing. She was a blank slate to the world, until distantly she became aware of the strain in her knees, and the fact that the setting sun seemed to now be shining through her windows as twilight descended.

Turning slightly, she slowly got to her feet and turned towards the bed. However, before she could throw herself down, her eyes caught sight of the letters she had so carelessly deposited earlier on the nightstand.

Frozen, her gaze latched intently on the two envelopes, Tracey felt a sense of foreboding crawling into her stomach. After the news she received... she had a feeling that this wasn't going to be any better. She could feel her heart begin to pick up as she debated whether or not she should deal with whatever it was now, or wait.

What's the point of waiting? If it's bad news, will it make a difference? Tracey wondered to herself before walking around her bed and sitting on the other side, just next to the nightstand.

Taking both letters in her hand, she hesitate as she stared at her name neatly and elegantly scrawled on the expensive envelopes; the one with the sharp, slanted writing she recognized as Blaise's script, the other more loopy and slightly less slanted one, as Daphne's.

Even without the perfume that trademarked all of Daphne's letters, of Moonlit Jasmines or some such nonsense, Tracey would recognize the writing anywhere. She almost wanted to sneer at the gold bordering on the fancy envelope, but felt far too disgusted at the sight of such useless nonsense.

Still staring at both envelopes, she debated which she should open first. While Daphne's letter would be longer and more informative, Tracey was more wary of the girl's letter than Blaise. While both Slytherins were haughty, arrogant and self-serving, as a good portion of Slytherin House seemed to be, Blaise didn't bother to turn on the charm for anyone. It was his trademark to be seen as the untouchable, disdainful, git towards absolutely everyone; even those that were his so called friends or love interest. An attitude he only curved around teachers, and only just barely then.

And yet, it was Blaise who she was least wary of, of the two.

Sighing, she set aside Daphne's letter and ripped open Blaise's. As was usual, his note was direct and to the point. Not even bothering with a paragraph, even if it was a perfectly good waste of expensive parchment, but what did the elite care of costs for such trivial things?

Davis, (it read, because Blaise nor anyone in their House really could be seen to be on familiar terms with someone of dubious blood.)

Theodore and Daphne are a couple. I'm sure Daphne will be writing to tell you all about it, I thought you'd prefer to hear it from me first.

Prepare yourself.

-Blaise Z.

Tracey could feel her heart once more beating irregularly. She could feel her breathing coming a bit shallowly as she unconsciously clenched her fists, balling up Blaise's letter.

She didn't comprehend, she found. The idea simply seemed far too impossible to her. Theodore with Daphne? But they never talk! And there is no way that Daphne Greengrass would be interested in Theodore of all people... Tracey thought to herself as she shook her head, even as her hands started to shake as a picture of Daphne Greengrass floated before her eyes.

Daphne was easily the prettiest girl in all of Hogwarts. She had fair porcelain skin and the pouty, perfectly shaped lips of a china doll. She had almond-shaped eyes of the most ocean blue you'd ever see, and her hair fell in long waves to her waist of golden blonde. With her dainty, perfectly straight nose and almost hour-glass figure, she could have her pick of any male she wanted.

So why did she have to want Theodore?!

Theodore, while not ugly, was far from being your definition of handsome. He was quite tall, a fact made more noticeable when considering how slender the boy was. Even with all his stooping, there was no hiding the fact that he was over six feet in height. His skin, while being fair, had an almost sickly pallor to it. His eyes, which were a dull shade of grey, had always born a sunken look to them, due mainly to the purple half moons beneath them. He had mousy-brown hair that fell straight and almost limply in his face. It was clean, but far from being coifed and perfect.. in simplest terms it was lackluster.

Theodore had all the allure of a wilted flower. And yet...

Tracey threw Blaise's letter away form her and tore into Daphne's letter, ignoring the burn she felt in the pit of her stomach.

Dearest Tracey, (If Blaise cared about his status and guarded it carefully behind his mask of abhorrence of absolutely everything under the sun, Daphne was the opposite. In fact, she took a sick delight in upsetting her parent's ideals.)

I hope this finds you well. Of course, why it shouldn't I have no idea. You always have been rather mysterious about your family. I suppose that's understandable... given certain circumstances that might not be befitting of a Slytherin.

But enough of that. I have news for you and I'm sure you'll never believe it but... believe me, dearest. After all, why would I lie to you? You are after all my most cherished friend. But I supposed if you don't believe me, it doesn't matter, for you shall see for yourself soon enough.

As you must be aware, this summer has been a coming out of sorts. But perhaps you aren't aware, it is after all more of a pureblood tradition of higher society. There have been so many balls and parties and dinners to attend and while most of them were frightfully boring- these pompous elders can be so tiring- I was pleasantly surprised and delighted to find myself frequently in the company of Theodore.

Words cannot express the magic we have shared this past summer and I'm delighted, almost giddily so, to inform you that was have formalized.

I know that this must be a shock to you, as I've never shown any interest in Theodore... he has rather always seemed like a frightful bore, what with his nose always stuck in a book. But... oh my dear Teddy has all the sweetness of a ripe peach.

I must sound to you like a blithering, romantic fool to you, but... you just don't understand. And how could you? Honestly Tracey, dearest, sometimes I think you were cut from the same tree as our dearest Head of House. It's almost impossible to believe that you have ever cared or would ever care for anyone, especially romantically. But that would be such a pity.

However, I plan to remedy it. I do so wish to see you happy as I have been and believe you me, I plan to make it my mission this coming school year. Now its only a matter of finding you a suitable candidate.

What of Blaise?

Now I know that he has impossible standards, which would, rationally speaking, never deem someone like you worthy. But love is not a rational matter, is it? And if you ask me, it is a front where you are concerned in regards to Blaise. I think he cares very much for you, it is made quite plain in the way that his bards towards you are at a minimal. What do you think?

Write to me soon dearest, I do so miss you!

Sincerely,

Daphne

The burning in her stomach had only increased, as well as her ire. Breathing heavily, Tracey violently ripped the letter to shreds, mentally calling Daphne every name in the book.

She could just picture the girl now, sitting at her expensive writing desk in her lavish room with her hair perfectly pulled into a fancy up-do all the while laughing cruelly at her not-so-subtle barbs towards Tracey's dubious family, lack of wealth and status. Dumping the shreds of paper to the floor, Tracey jumped to her feet and started to rapidly pace the room as her fists coiled and uncoiled as she continued to picture Daphne laughing at her, with her blue eyes sparkling malignantly.

Daphne was Slytherin's resident Ice Queen, or as everyone referred to her behind her back, the Ice Bitch. A girl as beautiful as she was cold. She never smiled truly, only smirked when she found amusement in her torture of everyone around her with her cruel barbs delivered in light teasing tones that didn't fool anyone.

Worst than her being beautiful, she was also incredibly smart and capable of actually playing nice... if it suited her to be charming. For the most part, Daphne looked down her incredibly perfect nose on everyone that surrounded her, and she took pleasure in cutting even the people around her to size. No one was free of her cruelty, not even her supposed best friends. Perhaps especially not them.

Tracey could still remember the time in third year when Daphne made an offhanded comment to Pansy about her nose being so upturned, it was cute like a piglets snout. That had reduced the brunette girl to tears, all the while it had been delivered in teasing tones with Daphne barely looking up from the magazine she was perusing. It was only until Pansy had run down to the dorms, that Daphne had looked up and Tracey still remembered the cold, barest trace of a smile that had appeared on the blondes face as she watched Pansy disappear.

When Pansy finally had emerged the following morning at breakfast, it was with eyes that were red and swollen that the irises were barely visible. And even to Tracey, who didn't care about anyone and who generally disliked Pansy, couldn't help feeling sorry for the girl who'd spent the majority of the night trying to keep her sobs quiet. And much to her own astonishment, when she'd seen Daphne about to comment on Pansy's state, had pretended to accidentally knock over her goblet of pumpkin juice straight into Daphne's lap.

Daphne was a hideous person on the inside. As Tracey continued to pace, her stomach still filled with that unfamiliar burning sensation, she wondered what Theodore was doing with her.

Theodore, who was so smart- too smart to be taken in by pretty looks and false smiles, no matter how alluring they were. Theodore, who was more mature than all of Hogwarts boys put together. Theodore who was more sensitive than most boys his age. Theodore, who had an intense sweetness about him... what was he doing falling into Daphne's traps?

Before Tracey knew what was happening, her rage was upon her. It took over her body and in a matter of minutes, had upturned and destroyed whatever she could get her hands on.

Theodore should have been mine!

The thought, so startling and seeming to come out of nowhere, froze Tracey. She felt like ice had slipped into her veins and she stood deadly still, her eyes barely aware of the destruction around her.

Her heart was racing once more and her forced labor made her chest rise and fall almost savagely as she wondered where the hell that had come from.

Come on, are you really going to lie to yourself? A part of her asked dryly, from somewhere that Tracey couldn't bare to contemplate, as she continued to pant, attempting to regain control of her breathing while the rest of her was still as a statue. All along, you've always wanted Theodore, why else have you continued to watch him over the years? Why else would Daphne write to taunt you about dating him, or Blaise to warn you? Even they've noticed.

You know he could have been your one and true friend, you've watched him over the years enough to confirm it. But you threw that possibility away. You shut yourself off from it. Because Severus said it would be best...

Tracey felt traitorous tears prickling in her eyes. She grit her teeth, even as she felt impossibly as though her heart were breaking.

Theodore over the years, as much as it was painful to admit, was all she'd ever really wanted. She wasn't sure when her desire for his friendship had perhaps changed for something more. She wasn't sure- perhaps, subconsciously- that she'd always wanted him for something more... that it was the inevitable end-game of a friendship between them to become more.

No use crying over spilt potion... you've been content to watch others live from the sidelines, sooner or later this was bound to happen. It isn't as though he was going to wait for you when he has no idea of your sentiments and fantasies of a life you'll never live, the same voice went on. A voice coming from deep inside her, from the same place where she put away all her emotions and unwanted thoughts.

Running her fingers shakily through her hair, Tracey took several deep and calming breaths as she looked around her room and the mess she'd created. Heaving a great sigh, Tracey pushed the mattress back on the bed and without bothering with the disarranged bedding, threw herself on top and curled into a ball as exhaustion took over her.

Brushing away the tears that still gathered on her lashes, she ignored the tightness in her chest.

Thought she thought that it might be melodramatic, especially as she was only fifteen, she couldn't help but feel that all her life was passing her by. Almost as thought it were her fate to watch everyone living, as though from behind some far removed window in a high tower, with nothing but her observations and her desperate, silent yearning for company.

But that was as much her fault as Severus', wasn't it?

TBC...