A/N: Well, November's here, and I'm going on a (kind of) short hiatus to work on some original fiction in the young adult category for National Novel Writing Month. There's a link to my NaNoWriMo page (also WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot) in my profile, so if you're participating too, let me know and we can be buds. I'll be updating in November, but not as frequently.

Note: A brain hiccup led to me not remembering that Luna had been with Ginny and Neville when they got the sword of Gryffindor. Here, it's Seamus and Ginny and Neville. Luna will be doing some behind the scenes/morale stuff though. I apologize for the discrepancy.

I own nothing. Rated T for language. There's some very vulgar stuff in this first part, but chalk that up to Alecto's cruel and vituperative nature. Writing her and Amycus gives me a case of indigestion. Thanks to stella8h8chang for her beta-reading. I have three one-shots up. If you haven't checked them out yet, feel free to: Shelter in the Storm (Draco/Astoria pre-ship), Monsters and Heroes, which is a Michael Corner one-shot outtake of this story for The Reviews Lounge Halloween Challenge, and The October After (Anthony/Lavender post-DH).


Chapter 27: Black and White

Daphne never thought there would have come a time when she would have dreaded going to Muggle Studies. However, as she sat at her desk with Blaise Zabini, she wanted nothing more than to find a way out.

Alecto Carrow paced in front of the classroom in a manner similar to her brother.

"Sexual deviancy and perversion in Muggles can be passed down through blood lines. Muggles are perverts who engage in disgusting, abhorrent behavior—"

She paused as she passed in front of the desks where the seventh-year Hufflepuffs sat together as a single group.

"These Muggle savages have sexual intercourse with each other — men with other men, women with other women, pursuing intercourse with animals and inanimate objects."

Daphne stifled a gag. Blaise kept his head down, writing furiously on his paper as if he was taking notes. Looking over, however, Daphne noticed he was reading pages of The Quibbler, charmed so that it looked like blank sheets of parchment or textbook pages every time Alecto Carrow passed by them.

But once the subject turned to "Muggle Perversions", Blaise grew gradually paler and more nervous.

Alecto continued, now standing squarely in front of the Hufflepuffs. "It is well-known that Hufflepuff House is legion with faggots and deviants." She leaned forward and propped herself on Ernie Macmillan's desk. "Must come from all that Muggle blood infecting the little Badgers."

Ernie's face contorted in front of Alecto's disgusting leer.

Daphne thought he wouldn't risk saying anything directly to her face—

"You lie!"

"Do you have a problem with what I'm saying, Macmillan?" Alecto grinned and leaned even closer to Ernie; Daphne could see her breath hitting his curly blond hair. "Did you know that the Dark Lord struck down Cedric Diggory because he buggered other wizards? Cedric Diggory was a rotten little pervert who deserved his death!"

Ernie shot up out of his seat so fast that he looked like a black-and-yellow blur. Zacharias Smith and Elias Summerby, both strong thanks to their Quidditch training, were up just as fast, holding Ernie back from physically striking Alecto.

She merely paced back and forth, watching Ernie hungrily, twirling her wand between her fingers. "What is it, Macmillan? Did Diggory ever dig – into – you? Tell me, you little Huffle-poofter . . . what was it like when Diggory screamed out your name? I bet you begged for it like Diggory begged for his life!"

Ernie stopped struggling against his friends and Zacharias and Elias lowered their arms. They made to sit back down, but Ernie remained standing.

"I'd rather be a pervert any day," the Hufflepuff prefect said with a tight voice and gritted teeth, "than a sadistic bitch and her homicidal brother!"

Susan clamped her hand over her mouth, and Zacharias could only stare in disbelief at Ernie.

It didn't take too long for Alecto's Cruciatus Curse to find its target.


"You moron, Ernie!"

Zacharias paced up and down Ernie's cubicle in the Hospital wing. Daphne and Blaise watched as the seventh-year Hufflepuffs all stood waiting to make sure Ernie would be okay.

"You should've kept your mouth shut! Why the hell would you put yourself—"

Ernie shifted in his bed, "Be-bec-cause of Ed-Edward, Zach. You bl-bl—"

He fell into a coughing fit; Susan ran over with a glass of water and a Coughing Calmer. Ernie composed himself.

"Zach, that was pure codswallop in Muggle Studies today! I have a brother whom I haven't seen in two years who is, by their definition a pervert!" Ernie looked briefly over at Blaise Zabini, who regarded him with a steady expression. "And what about Justin, eh? He's a Muggle-born and gay and he's out there somewhere and we've got no idea if he's still alive."

Susan let out a sniffle and turned away. Ernie blushed as he looked at her.

"Wait," Blaise piped up. "Finch-Fletchley too? He's one of — er, he's gay?"

"He is. He and I have talked about it on several occasions."

The voice came from behind the group. Eddie Carmichael walked over to Ernie and performed a series of spells over his body. Green lines floated in the air above him.

"Looking good, Macmillan." Eddie smiled broadly at the Hufflepuff prefect.

"You knew about Justin?" Susan stared at the Healer Trainee, wide-eyed. Blaise, however, watched him suspiciously.

Eddie shrugged. "I told him if he ever needed to talk to someone, I'd be available. You know, since I have a best friend who happens to be gay too." He gave her a very knowing look and Susan nodded with understanding. Blaise watched Eddie with an ever-reddening face.

Tamsin Applebee stepped forward. "Well, as amazing as it is to see signs like 'Remember Cedric Diggory!' greeting us in Muggle Studies, I'd rather that all the 'Puffs that are still here at Hogwarts stick together and protect each other, and not encourage the Carrows to attack us like this!" She jabbed her hand towards Ernie, who shook his head vigorously.

"Tamsin, Zach . . . as much as I appreciate your concern," Ernie peered at Smith with an unwavering gaze, "I felt strongly about speaking up against Alecto's lies. I won't stand for it."

"But you've put us in her sights!" Zacharias stormed towards his bed. "She's going to start encouraging her little minions to attack the students in our House now." He rubbed his eyes. "Where the hell is Potter in all of this mess?" He turned towards Daphne. "I know that you're thick with the Weasleys, Greengrass. Tell us, where is the fabulous Golden Trio now? Why aren't they here, fighting against this shit?!"

Daphne stalked towards him with daggers in her eyes. "First," she began, her voice low and dangerous, "you don't get to presume that I know anything about Potter or the Weasley family's thoughts about Potter. He broke Ginny Weasley's heart a few months ago. And Ron Weasley's infected with spattergroit. He's at home, right now, sick and in pain. So, Mister Presumption, you need to back the hell off!"

Zacharias crossed his arms and bent down to talk directly to Daphne. "It still doesn't explain why Potter's not here. Why he ran away from us. He abandoned us; from the looks of it, so has the 'brainiest witch of our time' too—"

"Stop," Hannah Abbott had come around. She stood next to Daphne and pushed him away. "Zach, it's important to Ernie and others in Hufflepuff to fight against all the lies that the Carrows are putting out there."

"But she's hurting Ernie!"

"And that's Ernie's choice," Hannah said again, her voice stronger and more assertive than before. "Leave the speaking up to us, if you can't. But help protect us if they try to hurt others."

Zacharias looked silently between Hannah, Ernie and Susan, conflicted and distressed.

Daphne turned to Blaise and nodded at him. "Let's leave them be," she said, pulling on the sleeve of his robes. He followed her out, Eddie close behind them.

Once they got outside of the cubicle, Blaise spun around and glared at the former Ravenclaw-turned-Healer-Trainee. "All right, Carmichael. 'Fess up!"

He looked at the Slytherin, his eyebrow raised. "What in the world do you mean?"

"All that in there!" Blaise whispered harshly. "Knowing about Finch-Fletchley—"

Eddie blushed. "Well, I wasn't exactly celibate before . . ." he gestured meekly at Blaise, who stared back at him with a gaping mouth.

"A-a . . . Hufflepuff?!"

Hannah and Susan peeked out from behind the screens, looking at the couple, and then looking at themselves with wide eyes.

"Would you keep it down, you prat!" Eddie shushed him, gesturing at Blaise to keep his voice low.

"I can't believe it! Was he your first?" He stared at Eddie, hands on his hips, his expression stony and filled with jealousy.

Daphne snickered at him.

"I'm so glad that my anger is amusing to you!"

"I cannot believe," she gasped, "th-that you can be so bloody jealous and possessive! Come on, Blaise. It was ages ago, and, clearly," she held a hand out towards Eddie, who was shaking his head in his hands, "he's moved on."

Blaise continued to fume at both of them. However, Daphne did notice just before they left the Hospital Wing that Eddie whispered something to Blaise. His face colored deeply at whatever it was, and the Slytherin smiled brilliantly, winking at the Trainee Healer.


Another Friday.

Another meeting with Snape.

Daphne walked behind Draco Malfoy, lost in her own thoughts. It had been a little over a week since she had had the discussion about Snape's past with Slughorn. She had mentally parsed through Slughorn's revelations, while ignoring Michael's stream of worried and cautious reprimands for investigating Snape in the first place—

"Well, for one thing, he's a bloody murderer!"

"I know, Michael!"

Michael had grabbed a hold of her hand and stared at her, fear thick in his eyes. "I don't want to see you end up on the wrong side of any curse that he'd be capable of casting."

Daphne had given Michael an understanding look. "I know," she had said. She had also given him a very long, very deep kiss.

Still, she had gone up to the library and had pulled out all the old Potions Honors certificates and records from 1971 to 1978. She had noticed either Snape or Lily's names listed side by side, under each year, accompanied by pictures of the entire Potions classes.

Daphne had noticed Snape's eyes always seemed to be permanently stuck on the image of Lily, who would glance over at him and smile every once in a while. She felt a slight pang in her heart, remembering everything that she had found out.

Between the information that Kreacher and Slughorn had offered, there seemed to be one incredible conclusion — the Headmaster had been in love with Lily Evans Potter.

(So why the heck does Snape hate Harry so much?)

(Why did he go back to Grimmauld Place after he killed Dumbledore? And why was he crying?)

(Does any of this mean Snape isn't completely evil?)

"Oh, for Salazar's sake!" Malfoy hollered, snapping her out of her trance. "Will you please shake the fairy dust out of your head!" He thrust his hand violently toward the door. "We're here."

Daphne narrowed her eyes. "Malfoy, the Head Girl kindly requests for you to shut the hell up, or she'll curse your lips right off of your face and attach them to your arsehole!" She flashed him a nasty grin, and turned to the office door, which was already ajar.

"Greengrass! Would you move? I can't walk through you!" Malfoy huffed, but Daphne ignored him.

She watched as Snape carefully closed a glass case that sat on a bookshelf, just to the left of the Headmaster's desk. She had not noticed the case before during their prior meetings. A glint of cool metal and rubies caught her eye and Daphne walked towards it, drawn to the object contained inside.

Tucked safely behind the transparent walls was a sleek, silver sword. It was so smooth and shiny that Daphne could see her reflection in it.

"Sir," Daphne asked, "what is this?"

She looked over at Snape whose face was as impassive as ever. Malfoy had already taken his seat, sneering at her.

"Don't worry, Greengrass, you can't afford it!"

"Mister Malfoy, please learn some tact," Snape said in a monotonous tone, holding his hand up. "Miss Greengrass, this," he held his hand out, gesturing to the sword, "is the sword of Gryffindor. Apparently, it is one of the many things that Dumbledore kept in this office. There are spells on it that prevent any but a true Gryffindor from touching it." Snape rolled his eyes. "You simply walked in on me as I attempted to try to remove the eyesore."

Daphne nodded at Snape's words, but kept her eyes trained on the object. "I see, Sir."

(Well, maybe I can—)

(I mean, after all, I'm on their side, fighting with all those Gryffindors, with Harry—)

Without saying a word, Daphne got up and walked towards the glass box.

"What . . . do you think you're doing?" Snape spoke in a droning voice, making no effort to actually stop her.

Daphne halted directly in front of the shelving. She reached out a hand to open the glass case up. She took two deep breaths as she lifted the glass to reveal the sword to her without the barrier. The sword gleamed, even in the dark depths of Snape's office, and the rubies sparkled and shone like little drops of blood.

It was breathtaking, and Daphne thought the sword was calling out to her, calling for her to touch it and take it out of its invisible prison.

Daphne reached out, her hand shaking as it moved closer and closer to the sword.

She touched the hilt—

And received a very nasty shock.

"YEOW! F-f-fuckity fuck fuck!" Daphne howled. She squeezed her hand between her knees and jumped up and down, trying to shake the pain out.

"Language, Miss Greengrass!" Snape flicked his wand and shut the case, enclosing the sword to keep any more errant fingers away from it.

Daphne blew on her still tingling hand, and plopped down into her seat, next to Malfoy. He leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"I don't want to hear it!" She gritted teeth.

"Greengrass, don't take it personally. I'm sure you simply can't touch it unless you have more than two Knuts in Gringotts!"

"Piss off, you ferret!"

Malfoy sat back in it his seat, trying to maintain his smug expression even as he blanched a little at her insult.

"Shall – we – begin?" Snape asked, emphasizing every word and watching the pair of them until they gave him their attention.


"And my final point." Snape paced in front of the two Slytherins. "Should any student be seen with a copy of that complete – piece – of – tripe, otherwise known as The Quibbler, you are to report them immediately to the Carrows."

Daphne gulped. "But why, sir? If The Quibbler is such a piece of tripe, as you claim, why even be fussed with rounding up students who're reading it?"

"Because, Miss Greengrass, there is no place at my Hogwarts for such drivel. I do not want to encourage what little brains my students have from rotting out of their thick skulls. So," he raised an eyebrow, "No – more – Quibbler!"

Snape cut Daphne off before she could respond, staring at her with a piercing gaze. His face was stony and cold. "Mister Malfoy," he said coolly, "you may leave. Miss Greengrass -- stay."

Daphne forced herself to looked at Malfoy, who simply gave Snape a rather confused, slightly offended look as he stood up.

"See you around, Greengrass." He sneered at her as he walked out of Snape's office. He flicked his wand, slamming the door shut.

Daphne gulped. She searched the room for anything that might ease her tension. Quickly, her eyes found the portrait of Dumbledore. For a few seconds, her heart gave a leap of hope; she was certain she saw the glint of those barmy but beautiful blue eyes.

But she blinked, and when she saw the portrait of the old Headmaster again, his eyes were shut. Daphne squeezed hers close, realizing she was all alone with his murderer.

But damned if she was going to let him see her shrink in terror.

"Green-grass," Snape drawled. He twirled his wand in his fingertips. "I've been hearing a lot of things about you. Disturbing things."

She tried to keep her voice strong, but all she could manage was a meek, "Oh?"

Snape pushed himself away from his desk, and stood up. He walked around and stood directly in front of Daphne, his arms folded together. They seemed to disappear within the folds of his dark robes. "Amycus Carrow has been approaching me with some rather concerning information about your associates."

At the sound of Carrow's name, Daphne felt her fear drain out of her, replaced by pure, white-hot anger. "He's been talking to you, has he?"

Snape nodded. "Apparently, you are continuing to associate with Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Specifically, Carrow brought up your friendships, particularly with Miss Weasley and your obvious closeness to a Mister Michael Corner." He curled his lip up. "Your reaction to Carrow's lesson on the Cruciatus Curse and using it on Mister Longbottom. And your assistance with Mister Finnigan to the Hospital Wing after he broke his hand—"

"That bastard broke it! Because he slapped Lavender and Seamus was trying to defendher. And you're letting them. You're just letting them get away with it!"

Snape narrowed his tiny, dark eyes. "And you only manage to draw attention by aligning yourself with these people. Miss Greengrass, you are not a stupid girl."

Daphne glared at him.

"But you are naïve to think that none of your actions go un-noticed." Snape pulled on the sleeves of his robes, and leaned forward, his arms resting on Daphne's chair. "Everything you do, as a Slytherin, comes back to me. One-thousand fold." His mouth flexed in front of Daphne, so that she saw his yellowed teeth gritting as he spoke. "Carrow has asked me on more than one occasion exactly what I was thinking selecting you as Head - Girl."

He pushed off the arms of her chair.

She refused to be intimidated or brought down by this man. "Oh, I know why you did. Sir."

Snape cocked his eyebrow. "Well then, Miss Know-It-All. Why don't you enlighten me?"

"You needed a spy. A Slytherin with close ties to the Weasleys, also known as 'Harry Potter's favorite family'. I was an easy choice for you, wasn't I?"

A smug grin appeared on Snape's face. "You do have this all figured out, don't you?"

Daphne said nothing, but she poured forth all her fury into staring at the Headmaster.

"You and Potter!" He spat out the name disgustedly. "The two of you think that the entire world should fall into line with your sense of morality! Black and white. Good and evil. You never look for nuance. For just that," he pinched his fingers closely together, "shade of grey." Snape paused, watching her. "Although you do surprise me, Miss Greengrass."

Daphne stared venomously at him, although she was now slightly suspicious at the turn of his tone.

"You have more than a skilled touch at Potions and potion-making. You are careful and precise with your ingredients. When I was your teacher in Potions, you followed my instructions and demonstrated an understanding for the minutiae. You saw the art in meticulous assembly of your ingredients. I would think that an individual with your talents would be able to piece together the smallest bits," he moved his hand with each word, as if pricking the air with an invisible needle, "of information and finally see the world as it is."

"And what is that? Sir?"

"Every creature who walks, talks, eats, sleeps, and claims to have a working brain, every being who purports to have a soul possesses good," Snape held out one hand, "and evil," he unfurled the other, "within them."

She shivered at his smooth, cold tone, furrowing her brow less in confusion and more in growing apprehension.

"Someone with your unique world view should be able to perceive the subtleties of human nature." Snape walked back to his chair behind the desk. Sitting down he kept his eyes trained on Daphne. "And that is why it astounds me that you seem to take no notice that your odd behavior and your associations make you stick out like a Hufflepuff in room full of wizards with functioning brains!"

Daphne turned her eyes away from him. She thought that she could hear a disapproving tsk! coming from one of the portraits.

"Miss Greengrass, as much as I hate bursting your precious, idyllic world in which you and your friends can act as if there is no consequence, I will be the first to tell you that there is no fairy tale ending to this story. 'Good' does not necessarily defeat the bad. The white knight does not come riding to the rescue." He peered at her, as if he could see straight through her body. "The prince does not get the girl."

His expression remained mild. "You might try to fight it, but," Snape tented his fingers and pressed them against his mouth, "it will kill you. Little by little. And your death need not be a physical one. It will eat away at your brain until you no longer know yourself."

Snape leaned forward on his desk. "So, Miss Greengrass, what I will tell you now is simple—"

Daphne cast him a sideways look.

"Obey those that are in charge." He shrugged. "If you obey them, you won't get hurt. Follow the rules, and stop associating with those that will draw attention to you. It will only make things worse!"

Her nostrils flared, her jaw squared. Daphne pushed herself up and out of her chair and strode towards the door in long strides.

She paused momentarily, resting her hand on the doorknob, wanting to throw something back into his face.

(Lily!)

(Use anything you've found out about him and Lily!)

(Questions. Any questions you want to ask.)

(Throw him off!)

But Daphne started to speak . . . and found her tongue was like lead, the inside of her mouth like cotton fibers.

She looked back over her shoulder, staring straight at Snape.

"I'll take your words to heart. Sir."

With that, Daphne departed from his office, reaching into her pocket for her D.A. Galleon as she shut the door behind her.


"Gryffindor's sword is in a glass case sitting on a bookshelf in Snape's office." Daphne hovered over the roughly drawn diagram of the Headmaster's office.

The whole D.A. stood around the large parchment that the Room had managed to Conjure. All it had taken was a simple thought—

(I need a large parchment and sketching quill to draw with . . . )

Fifteen minutes later, Daphne had drawn an extremely rough sketch of the room, labeling things that were a bit—

"Is that a bookshelf or a pyramid?" Anthony Goldstein pointed his foot at an oddly-shaped square/triangle/rectangle . . . thing.

Daphne squinted at her work. "Er, perspective's a bit off, innit? Well, it's to the left of Snape's desk. And I never noticed it before." She shrugged. "Not sure if Snape had it there during the other meetings. But it's there now, and I thought all the Gryffindors should know about it. If you lot want to do something to get it, then we'll help you."

Neville looked over at the other Gryffindors that were present. Ginny, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati all looked at each other and back at him.

"I take it I don't have to say anything about this, do I?"

Ginny shrugged. "Go ahead and ask it." She smiled. "You already know my answer."

He nodded. "Who's in?"

All the Gryffindors' hands shot up into the air.

"Well," he smirked, "that was pointless. Expected, but pointless."

"Okay, so what we need to do is come up with a plan." Daphne pulled on her bottom lip, clearly deep in thought. "We'll need a distraction for Snape, something that's not too out-of-the-ordinary that will require his attention to distract him, but ordinary enough that he won't suspect anything's off—"

"A fight?" Terry Boot suggested.

Daphne nodded. "That's a possibility. If it's bad enough, we can lure him out of his office and get us up to the Hospital Wing—"

"Hold it!" Michael Corner glared at Daphne. "What's this 'us' business? You're not thinking about being this distraction are you?"

Daphne glared right back at him. "Michael?" Her voice simmered with barely restrained anger. "You are not the boss of me. You've got no idea about what I might or might not do. So backoff!"

Michael stewed for a moment, crossing his arms. "All right. What are you thinking then?"

Daphne turned towards the other students. "Well, I need to deflection attention on my relationships with you Muggle-lovers." She smirked. "Snape indicated that Carrow's suspicious of me and my involvement with," she gestured to the Gryffindors currently in the Room. "Well, would anyone like to volunteer to get their arse whomped by the Head Girl of Hogwarts?"

Michael never stopped staring at Daphne. She narrowed her eyes at him. He did the same.

With a jolt, he shot his hand up in the air. "I'll take this assignment."

Daphne's glare melted into a smug expression. "Welcome aboard, Corner. Don't worry," she leaned toward him, grinning and twitching her nose. "I'll go easy on you!"

"Michael snorted. "Whatever you've got," he pushed his face towards her, "I can take it."

They stared each other, mischievous grin for mischievous grin.

"Oh-kay," Ginny interrupted. "Who wants to join the two lovebirds?"

Terry smirked. "I do!" He bowed his head to his left. "So does Parvati."

"Hey!" Parvati smacked him on the arm and gaped at him. "Don't put words in my mouth. I never said—"

Terry shrugged and smiled at her. "What else were y' gonna do? Now that y'know where I'm gonna be, of course you'll wanna come along!"

"Terry! Dammit!" Parvati fumed. "I'm going to get the sword with the other Gryffindors—"

"Actually," Neville said, grimacing "Daphne's team should have Gryffindors for her to tussle with. It makes sense, because she needs to make it look like she's doing this for real. She has to include Gryffindors to convince Carrow."

Parvati stared at Neville. "If you make me go," she jabbed a finger towards Terry, "then he'll win!"

Terry casually draped his arm around her. "Don't fight your feelings, Patil!"

Parvati stared at him with a horrified expression.

Terry looked at her smugly and cocked his eyebrow. "Resistance is futile."

Ginny made a sound akin to a groan, a chuckle, and a snort. "Okay, and a Hufflepuff?"

"Count me in." Hannah Abbott stepped forward.

Neville winced. "You're sure? This one could get painful."

"Well," she responded pensively, "I was thinking that a couple of prefects should be 'on patrol'," she mimicked quotation marks with her fingers, "in order to make sure Snape leaves his office. Since . . . well," Hannah took a deep, shaky breath, "when I had to leave school last year," her eyes grew a little misty, "Susan took over prefect duties from me." Hannah placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and Susan gave her an affectionate smile. "Both she and Ernie can alert Snape about the fight."

Neville gave her a small, sad smile and nodded. "As long as you're sure."

"I am." She reddened intensely, as did the Gryffindor. "Besides," she looked at Daphne, "you're not really going to hurt us or anything. Right?"

"No, of course not, Hannah." The Slytherin girl smirked at Michael. "Although I might make an exception in some cases!"

"I'd like to see you try, fair Miss Greengrass."

Daphne puckered her lips, stifling a laugh at Michael's retort.

Ginny took a deep breath through her nose and plowed on. "The others that aren't a part of the fight or getting the sword from Snape's office will help once we've retrieved whatever Pansy and Crabbe have on Dumbldedore's Army."

"And Goyle."

Neville groaned. "Goyle's in on this too?"

"Apparently. Blaise," Daphne nodded towards the slumbering Slytherin who was sitting against the wall and snoring, "found out about his involvement." She turned back to Neville. "He'll take care of Goyle's research. Pansy'll be more difficult, though." Daphne rubbed her chin. "I've looked everywhere for those papers, and haven't found them in her belongings."

"You think she's keeping them on herself?" Neville asked, although it came out more like a statement than a question.

"Maybe. . . but," Daphne sighed, "we don't really know for sure. So, I was thinking—" she wiggled her finger in the air, "that we should—"

"Distract her, go through her bags and robes, snag the parchments and Obliviate the assignment out of her brain?"

Daphne looked over at Ginny's bright, mockingly inquisitive face. "Something like that." She turned back to the other Slytherin in the room, the one currently sleeping soundly and deep. "So, perhaps . . . Blaise will bring Pansy Parkinson to the fight, which we'll use as a distraction—!"Daphne shouted, trying to wake Blaise up, "so we can steal the parchments she's using to record information about - Dumbledore's - Army!"

Daphne stomped over to Blaise's loudly sleeping form, and kicked him in the foot.

"Ouch! Hey!" He glared at her.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I just volunteered you for a mission. Idiot!"

Blaise stretched and yawned. "Late night last night." He grinned and smacked his lips.

"Send Eddie my love next time, will you?" Daphne smirked as Blaise stared icily at her. "So, you in?"

"What exactly am I doing?"

The Slytherin girl gritted her teeth. "I'll fill you in later!"

Neville coughed. "Okay. I'm no strategist or anything, but I think that we need to draw up some plans, since we're going for a three-pronged attack. But that means," he started, looking at the drawing board Daphne had been using, "we need a clean surface to write on—"

As soon as he said it, the parchment with the diagrams of Snape's office ripped off the board, rolled itself up into a tight scroll and landed right at Neville's feet, a brand new parchment appearing in its place.

He jumped a little, startled but smiling. "I will never get used to that!" He flicked his wand. "Scribo!"

A small black line appeared. Content that he had cast the Writing Charm properly, Neville drew three lines on the board. "Three groups and three different tasks."

Above one column, he wrote "Sword". For the next two columns, he wrote "Fight", and "Parchments", respectively.

"It'll be me, Ginny and Seamus retrieving the sword then." Neville wrote their names down in the first column. "Daphne, Michael, Terry, Hannah and Parvati will fight and distract Snape. Susan and Ernie will be responsible for getting Snape out of his office." he said, adding their names to the parchment. "Once Snape is out of his office," he addressed Ginny and Seamus, "then, um . . . well, we'll use the password that Daphne gives us and get the sword."

"Neville, only true Gryffindors can retrieve it." Daphne blushed. "It wouldn't let me even touch it. I got a nasty shock instead."

"Okay, good bit of information. So, once we get the parchments from Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle," Neville took a breath, "Luna, Lavender, Susan, Padma and Anthony will work on replacing their parchments with ones that'll provide information about the older D.A. members that aren't currently at Hogwarts."

Neville turned to the assigned "Parchments" group. "Do you think you can find out if there were any Concealment Charms or other spells cast on the parchments?"

"Absolutely, Neville!" Luna piped up. "But I don't think this will stop them forever. Especially if the graffiti continues to appear all over Hogwarts."

"The point isn't to stop them permanently," Neville said, "but to buy us time. Throw them off a little, you know?" He smiled resolutely at them. "It's only to distract them so we're not caught. Not just yet at least."

"That's fine. As long as we all understand." Luna nodded and stepped back.

"Okay," Neville started again with a little nervous twitter. He appeared a little unsure and shaky as he gave orders, but the others seemed to follow him regardless and expected him to continue. "Find out what you can about the parchments, Duplicate our versions of them, and," he stopped and pulled his head back a little, as if something struck him. "The Confundus Charm!"

The "Parchments" group perked up considerably. "You want us to Confound the Slytherins? So when they look at the parchments again, they'll get confused as to why they even have them?"

Neville nodded at Padma. "Or at least Confound or suggest to them that they've completed their assignment and that all the information is accurate and correct. Think that can be done?"

She grinned in a very dangerous manner. "Oh, I think that'll be a walk in the park!"

"We'll get it done." Anthony gave him a brusque nod.

Blaise strolled up and stood next to Padma, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "I can handle getting to Crabbe's and Goyle's and nicking their parchments." He shrugged. "Pansy's will be a different story all together."

Daphne smirked. "What do you think your duty is, dearest Blaise?"

The Slytherin wizard stared at her.

"Who do you think is going to bring Miss Parkinson to the fight, where she'll get accidentally hit with a hex and will get inadvertently Obliviated? I'm going to be a bit preoccupied, what with all the arse-whupping."

Blaise looked directly at Daphne and rolled his eyes. "Fine," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I'll do what I need to do to trick her. But I'm warning you, she doesn't trust me. Thinks I'm too close to you."

"Blaise, we're Slytherins. We're ruthless, resourceful, and cunning, remember?" She folded her arms in front of her. "You'll find a way. I've got no doubts.

He growled at her.

Daphne smiled smugly at him. "There's my precious snake!"

Neville wrote out "Three Parchments", and "Pansy", "Crabbe". and "Goyle" under that, circling Pansy's name. He breathed out with finality.

"Well, okay then." He smiled at the rest of the group. "Let's get started."