The Champion's Legacy

Chapter 13: A Shift in Slytherin

Author's Note: Well, if you haven't seen the change yet, I'd question which story you were reading, heh. Jokes aside, here's the next chapter from our second PoV of the story. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter.

Grateful, as always, to Dorothea Greengrass for being the beta-reader for this chapter.

Disclaimer: Recognisable portions in this chapter have been taken from the Harry Potter series, by J.K. Rowling. I neither own nor intend to make any profit from the use of Harry Potter and associated characters of the series, in my story.

Previously on "The Champion's Legacy"…

'What Father said…I don't disagree with him, Harry,' she whispered, 'but even he would agree that in a situation as delicate as this, it would be for the best to wait and see how things pan out. Plus, we have the mirror to keep in touch for now,' she added.

There were more students on the platform than on the train now; they could hear a few carriage doors being shut at the other end of the train.

'I just don't want you to get hurt, Harry,' she said softly, staring straight into his eyes.

Harry nodded, a lump in his throat preventing him from telling her what her words really meant to him. The fact that she cared so much…that they all cared for him – it was more than he could express in words, so he did the one thing he knew would let her know how he felt.

He kissed her again.

Despite having stayed back in the compartment for a good while, Daphne and Harry were still able to join the other students as they moved along the platform to the road outside Hogsmeade station. The chilly night air stung their faces, and the smell of the pine trees that lined the path down to the lake filled their nostrils. As they reached the narrow door, Daphne saw Harry look curiously at the gaggle of first year students gathered around a figure holding a lantern.

'That's not Hagrid,' she heard him say in surprise.

Daphne looked over at the figure; even at this distance, there was no mistaking the fact that the person holding the lantern was not the large gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts.

'He can't have left…' said Harry worriedly.

'C'mon,' said Daphne, shunting him forwards as quick as possible to keep pace with the rest of the students on the platform. Harry took one last look at the figure, then followed her through the doorway onto the rain-washed road.

Here stood the hundred or so horseless carriages that took the students above first year up to the castle (the first years traditionally crossed the lake before being Sorted). There were only about twenty left, most of the school having already departed – Astoria, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron too. She could see the long line of lamps swaying from the procession of carriages sloshing beyond them in the direction of Hogwarts castle.

A sudden breeze picked up, and she found herself wishing that she'd thought to put on a scarf or a muffler, feeling the cold air sting at her exposed skin. She looked towards Harry, eager to get into a carriage of their own as soon as possible, and found him staring, transfixed, at the carriages.

'What's up, Harry?'

He didn't answer but moved closer to the nearest carriage – the space between the carriage shafts, to be precise.

'What is it?' he asked, clearly bewildered.

'What is what?'

'This horse thing…' he trailed off, raising his hand as he did so, as though looking to stroke something in the air.

'What horse thing?'

'The horse thing pulling the carriages, look!'

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to where he was standing, dead centre in front of the carriage. Daphne gazed nonplussed at the space in front of her, then looked back at Harry.

'What am I supposed to be looking at, Harry?'

'Between the shafts, Daph! Harnessed to the carriage – can't you see –'

A small sliver of alarm began to seep through her as he alternated his stare between her and the carriages.

'Can't you see them?'

'See what? Harry, what on earth are you talking about?'

He gazed at the space where he'd asked her to look, then shook his head, clearly utterly bewildered.

'Harry, are you feeling alright?'

'I – yeah…'

Daphne could see that the remaining students were getting into their carriages. She shivered slightly as the breeze gusted by once more.

'Let's get in, shall we?' she said, tugging on Harry's arm.

They clambered into the carriage, Harry slamming the door shut behind them. He continued to stare at the empty space between the carriage shafts once again as they set off, swaying and rattling on the sloshy and muddy road.

The journey to Hogwarts was made in relative silence, apart from the splashes of the carriage wheels on stray puddles and the sound of the rickety carriage itself. She gazed out of the window as Hogwarts castle loomed ever larger and closer: a towering mass of turrets, jet-black against the night sky, here and there a window blazing a fiery red. The grounds, however, were in complete darkness.

They got off near the stone steps leading up to the great oak front doors of the castle. Once again, Daphne saw Harry's eyes linger on the space between the carriage shafts before following the other students up the steps into the castle. They were one of the last few to cross the magnificent Entrance Hall and, through the double doors on the right, enter the equally humungous and fabulous looking Great Hall.

Almost subconsciously, she fell a few steps back behind Harry – an attempt to project the image that she and Harry had only arrived in the same carriage from Hogsmeade station as a product of coincidence, and that apart from that, there was nothing between the two of them. She saw Harry glance around, doubtless trying to find out why she had slowed down, and she was so tempted to join him and walk into the Great Hall together.

But she couldn't. Her mind told her that she couldn't risk them being seen together, even though her heart – and possibly every other particle in her body – said otherwise. Her heart sank a little as she watched Harry turn away and walk towards the Gryffindor table, and even though she knew he was putting on a show for the benefit of everyone else – not least for their own safety – every step she took as she walked behind seemed like a stab to her heart.

Tearing her eyes away from Harry's back as he sped past the Slytherin table, she caught sight of Tracey and Blaise waving at her and hastened to join them.

'What took you so long?' asked Tracey at once, the moment Daphne had taken her seat.

'I was with –' she broke off as Millicent Bulstrode came over and sat down next to them.

'Hi, Daphne, Tracey,' she said brightly.

'Hello, Millie,' they replied.

The Great Hall was almost full now, with the last few stragglers being ushered in by Argus Filch, the grumpy caretaker. Talk and laughter echoed around them as students caught up with those friends who they couldn't meet on the train, exchanging summer news and calling out greetings. More than one intrigued glance was sent towards those with new robes or attractive haircuts.

'Did he get those letters?'

In the hubbub that surrounded the Slytherin table, Millicent's question was audible only to Daphne and Tracey; the latter looked curiously between Millicent and the former.

'He did, thanks, Millie,' said Daphne, flashing her a grateful smile.

Millicent smiled back. 'Just wanted to help, you know,' she said. 'Thankfully, Father didn't find out what I'd sent or who I'd sent it to. Did he get any others?'

Daphne nodded. 'He got loads, yeah. I'm sure they'll be very useful soon.'

'Yeah. Hey,' Millicent suddenly dropped her voice, so that with the noise levels around them, they had to strain their ears to hear what she was saying, 'have you seen Draco?'

Daphne, who had glanced towards the Gryffindor table for a glimpse of Harry, looked around sharply at Millicent.

'What about him?'

'Look – down there,' said Millicent, jerking her head slightly.

Daphne and Tracey looked at where Millicent had indicated, towards the far end of the table, closer to the double doors. There, sitting slightly apart from his usual gang of Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle, was Draco Malfoy. Even from this distance, they could tell he looked a little out of place, as though he didn't want to be where he was. He was twirling his fork idly in his hands, gazing at his plate, not participating in the conversation taking place next to him.

As they watched, a great shout of laughter came from Pansy, while Vince and Greg guffawed in their usual manner – but Draco hadn't uttered a word. Daphne leaned forward on the table to get a better view, and saw Theodore Nott sitting amongst the group, holding court over them. Beyond Greg, she could see Montague sniggering at whatever Theodore had said.

'Odd, isn't it?' said Tracey to Daphne. Blaise leaned over to listen as well.

'Not really,' whispered Daphne, and proceeded to tell the other two about the visit Nott had paid to their compartment on the train. She spoke softly so that Millicent could not hear.

'This changes things,' said Blaise rather seriously. 'If Nott is looking to usurp the Slytherin hierarchy –'

'He already has, by the looks of it,' said Tracey, still watching them.

Daphne, lost in thought about Nott and Malfoy, gazed absently at the staff table, situated along the top wall of the Great Hall. Tiny Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was perched upon a stack of cushions. He was chatting animatedly to Professor Septima Vector, the Arithmancy teacher. On his left was an empty chair for Professor McGonagall, who oversaw the first-years from the lake till their Sorting.

To the right of that chair, in the middle of the staff table on the high-backed golden chair, sat Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. He was wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat. Dumbledore's head was inclined towards the woman sitting next to him, who was talking in his ear. She was squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed – in Daphne's opinion – a truly horrendous pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. The side profile looked vaguely familiar…

'Who's that?' she said, drawing Tracey and Blaise's attention away from their discussion on Nott and Slytherin House politics.

They both looked over at the new witch, frowning as they took in her appearance.

'What on earth is that cardigan?' said Tracey in disgust.

Blaise, meanwhile, was scanning the rest of the table.

'Looks like she's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher…'

Daphne let out a soft gasp.

'It's Dolores Umbridge!'

Tracey frowned, but Blaise's eyes widened in clear astonishment.

'Dolores Umbridge – from the Ministry?'

'Yeah, she was at –' she glanced quickly to her right to make sure that Millicent wasn't paying attention to them, dropping her voice a notch further '– Harry's trial. She works for Fudge.'

It was Tracey's turn to widen her eyes now.

'I've heard about her,' said Blaise, still frowning. 'How on earth did Dumbledore end up hiring her?'

'I don't think Dumbledore had a say in this,' said Daphne grimly, just as the double doors to the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall was succeeded by a long line of scared looking first-years.

'Well, that was very interesting,' said Daphne as she, Blaise, and Tracey made their way out of the Great Hall and headed for the Slytherin common room.

Blaise raised his eyebrow, as though in sarcastic disbelief, but didn't comment. Tracey, however, gaped at Daphne.

'You're not telling us you enjoyed it!'

Daphne gave her a cold look that did nothing to dissipate Tracey's astonishment.

'I said interesting, not enjoyable,' she said, now walking past Snape's office to another flight of stairs. 'I'm actually surprised she said all of that, you know.'

'She shouldn't have revealed her intentions at the start,' said Blaise sagely, leaping down the last few steps of the staircase. 'It gives away her position, puts everyone on alert.'

Tracey wore a nonplussed look as they turned into the final corridor where the entrance to the Slytherin common room was located.

'She's trying to interfere at Hogwarts,' explained Blaise, spotting Tracey's face. 'Progress for progress' sake must be discouraged, pruning practices that ought to be prohibited…if they'd paid attention, most people would have understood it straightaway.'

'Superiority,' said Daphne, stopping in front of a blank stretch of damp, stone wall. She'd gotten the password from one of the sixth year Prefects, preferring not to interact with Pansy or Nott as much as she could help it.

The stone door concealed in the wall slid open and they stepped inside.

The Slytherin common room looked just as it always did – a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and a ceiling from which round greenish lamps hung suspended on chains. The magnificent portrait of Salazar Slytherin hung above the elaborately carved mantelpiece, in which a fire was roaring in welcome. Several high-backed chairs were scattered across the room, together with several small round tables, stools, and some squashy emerald armchairs and pouffes.

Despite being in Slytherin House for the last four years, Daphne had never felt completely welcomed in the common room. Not that she knew what the other common rooms looked like, but she'd always held the idea that a common room had to be cosy and friendly for its occupants. This room, though, had never achieved that. The décor, along with the view out into the depths of the Black Lake, reminded her eerily of the place she had lived at for a couple of years before she started at Hogwarts –

Don't think about that.

Giving herself a mental shake of the head, she led the other two to their favourite spot in the corner of the common room, near the vaulted windows. A few Grindylows gazed at them curiously as they settled themselves into the armchairs.

'You think Potter would have realised why she's here?' asked Blaise quietly. The stone entrance had slid open once again for a few more students to enter. 'What she's planning to do?'

'He already knows,' Daphne replied just as softly. 'Professor Dumbledore explained it to us over the summer.'

A long shadow fell across them, and they looked up to see Adrian Pucey and Terence Higgs strolling towards them.

'Our first roundtable meeting!' proclaimed Adrian, perching himself on the arm of Tracey's chair and grinning around at the rest. 'How have you all been?'

Daphne glared at him. 'You two had us all in a right state, you know that? Ron was half scared that something had happened to you –'

'Calm down,' said Terence placatingly. 'We realised we couldn't send letters at our vacation place only after we'd reached there. And then, once we were back, we really couldn't send letters at all. Owls kept flying right back to us.'

'Didn't know what to make of it,' Adrian chipped in.

'Plus, what would we have said, anyway? We hadn't heard anything from Iris either.'

'Speaking of,' added Adrian, 'do you know what's happened to her? We didn't see her on the train or during the feast.'

The three younger students exchanged grim, worried looks.

'What's up?' asked Terence seriously, noting their expressions. 'What happened to her? Where is she?'

Daphne sighed; she didn't think she'd have to retell the story – again – but there was nothing for it. And so, she did.

By the end of it, Adrian and Terence sported expressions of horror mixed with fury on their faces; the latter's hands had even curled into fists. They looked ready to attack Magnus Warrington with their bare hands, wands be damned.

'Where is she?' asked Adrian, his voice shaking slightly.

Daphne shook her head. 'I can't reveal that, I'm not the Secret Keeper. But she is extremely safe.'

'How dare he,' whispered Terence, his eyes stormy and full of ire. 'How. Dare. He.'

'That was Harry's reaction, too,' said Daphne softly. She shuddered slightly – recounting the tale had brought back memories of Iris' broken form on the kitchen floor; of her lying prone and comatose in the makeshift infirmary at Grimmauld Place; and of Harry's furious reaction a little while after.

Tracey wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

'And the Ministry isn't doing anything about it? Nothing at all?' asked Adrian incredulously.

Tracey shook her head miserably. 'Harry told us that the Auror Office has considered it as an internal pureblood family feud.'

Terence swore. A couple of nearby seventh-year Slytherins looked over curiously but did not comment.

'We're still holding out hope, though,' said Daphne, a little shakily. 'I mean – you know…' she swallowed. 'It's Iris. She'll get through this.'

'She has to,' said Blaise.

'She'd better,' growled Adrian fiercely.

'She will,' chimed in Tracey softly.

Silence fell over them. The common room was getting louder as the rest of Slytherin House returned from the Great Hall. Most of them, Daphne noticed, seemed oblivious to the undertone in Umbridge's speech; they were instead chatting happily with their friends, exchanging summer holidays news and the like.

Either they don't care, or they really don't know.

Yet, in every conversation that drifted over to their spot, there seemed to be an undercurrent of…something. Was it apprehension? Fear? Excitement for what the year would hold for them as apparent supporters of You-Know-Who's agenda? Daphne felt she could rule out the last emotion: as much as it would have made sense otherwise, You-Know-Who murdering one of their own in cold blood had swayed their mindset of most members of his former House at Hogwarts. It was subtle, very discreet, but it was there: the doubt, the uncertainty…

Were they scared about You-Know-Who, though? Or Umbridge?

She exchanged a glance with Blaise. His expression revealed nothing, but Daphne had known him for years – she knew he was thinking the same thing as she was.

Daphne looked back to the common room entrance just in time to see Nott, Vince, and Greg walk in, followed by Pansy Parkinson.

If there were people in Slytherin who seemed to be unafraid of Umbridge or You-Know-Who, it was these four. She had noticed it when the three boys had visited their compartment on the train: Nott's cold, calculating look had been extremely telling. Not to mention his off-handed remark about Draco Malfoy.

Speaking of Draco Malfoy…

The blonde boy in question entered the common room, leading a group of newly sorted first year Slytherins. Daphne saw him throw a look at Pansy – who was now seated on the arm of Nott's chair – before moving into the common room and showing the new students their dormitories.

'Interesting,' muttered Terence, just loud enough for the rest of them to hear.

'Noticed, have you?' said Blaise.

'Hard not to,' replied Adrian.

'I wonder why Draco's lost his place in the hierarchy,' murmured Tracey. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked over at Nott's corner. Daphne followed her gaze in time to see Nott glaring at Draco's back.

'He doesn't seem too happy, does he?' commented Blaise.

'It's obvious, isn't it?' came a sharp voice to Daphne's right, causing her to jump and look around.

Blaise raised a single eyebrow in mild amusement. The rest of the group frowned as Astoria plonked herself between Tracey and Daphne.

'Tori!' Daphne hissed, but Astoria wasn't perturbed.

'Draco's a prefect now,' said Astoria, the word sliding off her tongue as though it was something icky. Blaise let out a low chuckle.

'So?'

'Oh, do use your brains, Tracey,' huffed Astoria impatiently. 'A prefect of Slytherin House is granted power and influence over the others, and a certain level of immunity to your actions in front of the other Houses. Something tells me Nott would have dearly wanted to get that badge for himself. Then –'

'– he'd have been able to properly lord it over Malfoy, yes,' said Terence in agreement. He looked quite impressed with Astoria's reasoning. Daphne was impressed as well, although she would never admit it out loud.

'Malfoy having the prefect badge gives him some control over his status,' observed Adrian as the first years split up and went to their respective dormitories. 'He might still be taken seriously, if only to an extent.'

'His father's name still carries some weight amongst the pureblood families,' said Blaise. 'I wouldn't put it past him to throw that around.'

'Then why isn't he doing that already?' asked Tracey. 'He'd have normally started by now – he's done that every year since he's arrived.'

'He's afraid,' said Daphne softly, speaking up for the first time since her admonishment of Astoria.

They all stared at her.

'He doesn't want to make the first move, even though it looks like Nott's made his move already,' explained Daphne.

'He has?' queried Adrian and Terence together.

Tracey and Blaise quickly explained what Daphne had told them about Nott's visit to their compartment. Terence let out a low whistle at the end of it.

'He's definitely made his move, then,' said Terence. He sounded almost impressed by it.

'I wonder what he did, though,' mused Adrian, his fingers tapping his chin thoughtfully.

'Not that it matters,' said Blaise with a soft snort, and Adrian nodded in agreement.

'Draco doesn't look like he's lost his place completely, if you ask me,' said Daphne. 'I think he thinks he can still hold on with his pride and honour intact. Nott hasn't won yet.'

'How do you figure?' asked Astoria.

'Because Nott hasn't lorded it over him or anyone else,' replied Daphne. 'Yes, he's showing off his new position with Vince and Greg following him, but that's not too difficult. Those two would follow anyone if they were promised a chance to constantly pig out.'

Astoria and Tracey snickered.

'Pansy following Nott around is also irrelevant,' continued Daphne. 'Draco never wanted Pansy as a girlfriend in the first place. I suspect he's relieved that she isn't throwing herself at him anymore.'

'Maybe Nott promised to shag her,' said Astoria offhandedly.

Daphne almost choked in surprise. Tracey rubbed her back helpfully as she gaped at her younger sister.

'What?' said Astoria defiantly. 'It's not like it's the first time for her, is it? And Nott isn't that ugly, either.'

'Ugh,' groaned Blaise, while Terence and Adrian snorted with laughter. 'I did not need that image in my head!'

Astoria gave him an innocently sweet smile that fooled nobody.

'So,' said Blaise, recovering with a small shudder, 'in short, there's an invisible, yet visible, power struggle in Slytherin House.'

'Yes,' said Daphne simply. It hadn't occurred to her until then, but Blaise's words had thrown the whole situation into sharper relief. They were facing a real tussle for implicit – and with it, explicit – power in their House. The incumbent, Draco, had had his "bodyguards" taken away from him, signifying a transfer of physical strength to Nott, the usurper. But in compensation, he'd been awarded the status of a school Prefect – something that, as Astoria had pointed out, gave him power and influence over the rest of the House. Something that Nott would have been desperate to get his hands on, for sure.

'Iris could have filled it,' said Adrian quietly.

Everyone turned to look at him.

'This power struggle, or whatever it is…' he added, waving a hand vaguely in Nott's direction. 'Iris would have put them both in their place without much effort. Malfoy wouldn't have said no, and Nott certainly wouldn't have seen it coming.'

'You're right,' said Terence, his face solemn as he no doubt remembered his close friend. 'She has the charisma, popularity, and intelligence to be a true leader of the House. Draco wouldn't have stood a chance.'

'Would she have done it, though?' asked Tracey. 'She wouldn't have wanted to occupy the limelight, would she?'

'That's true,' said Terence with a nod, 'but given what happened last year, people would have wanted to follow her, if for no other reason than to at least not refuse what she wanted to do.'

'Sympathy followers?'

'Probably?' Terence shrugged. 'I don't think she would've liked it, but she may not have a choice in the matter. People will look to her for guidance, support, and leadership. I know I would,' he added, looking at the rest of them.

Another pause settled between them. Malfoy had settled into an armchair in another corner of the room, far away from Nott and his gang. He looked pensive, thought Daphne. Perhaps even a little troubled? Conflicted?

'I wonder if Pansy knows about Iris,' remarked Adrian, glancing at the girl in question.

'We wondered about that, too,' replied Daphne. She told them all about the discussion at Grimmauld Place, although she made sure to leave out the members of the Order, making it sound as though she had participated in the discussion with the Gryffindors.

'Blimey,' said Terence. 'You think she was warned of the attack, then?'

'Makes sense, doesn't it?' said Blaise solemnly. His face had taken on an unusually firm expression. 'It's too much of a coincidence for an attack on the Parkinson family when their youngest daughter isn't around.'

'Where did she go? The Nott Estate?' asked Tracey.

'It's a possibility…' Blaise's voice trailed off.

'Well, possibility or not, I don't think it makes sense to speculate on it without solid proof,' said Adrian firmly. 'What we need to figure out is –' he held up a finger '– how long it would take for Iris to come back to Hogwarts, and –' he held up another finger '– what we're going to do about this power struggle.'

Almost automatically, everyone turned to look at Daphne.

'Well, I don't know when Iris will be back,' she admitted with a grimace. 'Madam Pomfrey said it could be a while since she's, you know, in a coma.'

When they continued to stare at her, she frowned.

'You don't expect me to come up with an answer for this, do you?' she asked incredulously.

'Actually…' said Blaise, a sudden glint in his eye that Daphne knew a little too well.

And then it hit her.

'No,' she said firmly. 'Absolutely not.'

'Why not?' asked Tracey.

'Because –' Daphne faltered slightly, '– because I'm not good at this stuff!'

'And you think Draco is? Or Nott?' said Blaise, a hint of a scathing tone in his voice.

Daphne had to grudgingly concede that point. Nott hardly had the support or the power for it, while Draco lacked the subtlety to influence everyone like a true Slytherin. But could she do it? How could she? She didn't have the power or the support like Nott, and she was hardly subtle herself, what with her frigid stares and stand-offish nature. How on earth was she supposed to fill in that vacuum?

'We're not saying you take it up tonight, Daphne,' said Terence gently. 'But you must admit, after Iris, you are the next most popular person in Slytherin House, not to mention the school.'

'Third, if you count her boyfriend,' chipped in Astoria cheekily. Daphne glared at her.

'Quite right, third it is, then,' said Terence with a grin. 'And speaking of said boyfriend, if you've got his support, you've got the support of Gryffindor House as well by association. Don't you think he'd help you if you faced any trouble from your House mates?'

'Not that you would,' added Adrian hastily. 'But if it were to happen…'

'You have your father's support as well,' said Blaise knowingly. 'Whatever he might have told you about your relationship with Harry, I'm sure he would approve of you taking this step here.'

Daphne looked between one hopeful face and another, before coming to rest on Tracey.

'You think this is a good idea?' she demanded.

Tracey shrugged. 'I don't see why not, Daph. If you made up your mind for it, those two wouldn't stand a chance. And well, support-wise, you've got us, too, remember?'

Her best friend's face shone with an eager anticipation she hadn't seen in a long while. Even Astoria, who would have usually resented the extra attention that Daphne was sure to receive if she did decide to go ahead, gave her an encouraging nod.

'Go for it, Daph,' she said simply.

Daphne felt cornered and a little overwhelmed; yet, if she was being honest with herself, she knew that they had very good points. And, if she was being very honest with herself, she'd already glimpsed an image of how it would look like: in her mind's eye, she imagined her House mates listening to and considering her opinion; paying attention to what she said and not ridiculing her; actually implementing what she felt were long-needed changes to the functioning of the House within their dormitories and outside, towards the school…

Unbidden, a familiar, comforting voice sounded in her head.

You'll be great, Daphne. Go for it.

She sighed. The voice chuckled.

'I'll…think about it,' she said, her gaze directed mostly towards Blaise and Tracey. Thankfully for her, they seemed to understand her reluctance to commit to it immediately; they nodded in acceptance and didn't press the issue.

But, as they returned to their respective dormitories ten minutes later, Daphne wondered if she was making the right choice, after all.

To be continued…