Chapter 35: Tiaras, Tenacity, and Terry's Triumph

The first of December was usually a time of joy at Hogwarts. In years' past, the prefects decorated the castle with garland and trees, singing ornaments and gnome-like cherubs.

Flitwick and McGonagall would charm suits of armour to sing Christmas carols and Transfigure torches that lit the hallways into Victorian-era street lamps. One could hear the dulcet tones of the portraits singing old Christmas songs, snow gently falling on them, giving their images a sense of peace and tranquillity.

This year, things felt different.

The twelve Christmas trees were going to be decorated, the same as before, and all the decorations in the castle would be put up as usual, but no one was in the holiday spirit.

Especially the Ravenclaws and the D.A.

Daphne was supervising the seventh year prefects as they worked on the first two trees in the Great Hall. They tried desperately to make them as festive as before. However, their hearts weren't into it, not after the term from hell.

She adopted her most stern, authoritative look and approached Anthony and Padma as they Levitated several golden globes and cherubs onto the pine. She had to make it seem that they weren't on friendly terms, but she kept her voice low and hushed as they talked about their friends, occasionally cutting in with a far louder order.

"Goldstein! Get your bloody cherub up there! Pronto!" Daphne jabbed her finger in the air.

"Ouch!" Anthony hissed and shook his finger as he held the pissed-off cherub at arm's length distance. "That little monster bit me!"

"What do you expect?" Padma asked as she floated hers to the topmost branches of the tree. The cherub blew raspberries at her as it flew upwards. "The cherubs reflect the amount of holiday spirit in the environment. And, well, it's just not all that Christmas-y this year, is it?"

Anthony gave his a deadly stare and roughly Levitated it until it was as high as Padma's. "Up you go. And no more biting!"

"Y'smell like a fart! PHHHLBT!" The cherub latched onto a branch and Anthony quickly flashed it the two-finger salute.

Daphne sighed as if she was deflating. "Why the hell're we even bothering with Christmas?"

He floated another ornament up the tree, his countenance morose. "Joy of the holidays, right?"

Daphne nodded as her face softened. "How's Terry doing?"

"Not good. Not good at all," he replied after a moment.

"What about him and Michael? Are they doing all right?"

"Mike's back in the dorms, but they haven't talked through things yet. And Terry's not talking to me either. I know it's been a couple of weeks now, and I don't want to pressure him. But we're his best mates, and there's no way we're letting him stay here over Christmas. He needs to be with his friends, his fam—" Anthony caught himself before he could finish the word

"Maybe Luna'll have a shot." Padma floated a couple of shiny globes upon the tree.

"You think? Oh, and before I forget — Patil! This tree needs more ribbon!" Daphne shouted.

Padma raised her eyebrow, shrugged, and went to gather more gold ribbon. "Luna's with him back at the tower. She's been talking to him, helping him deal with his emotions." The prefect shrugged. "She did lose her mother when she was younger. She might know what to say to help him."

"There's Hannah too," Neville had joined them, pretending to scrutinize the Christmas tree and appear as if he was only there to discuss prefect matters. "She lost her mum last year. It may help both of them to talk to each other. And I'm here if he needs it." A small smile flashed quickly across his face, but looking at him, Daphne couldn't help but feel a deep sadness, unsettled and expansive, rooted within him. She had gleaned from past conversations with Ginny that, in a way, Neville had lost his parents too, long ago when he was just a baby.

"Anything to help him," he added quietly.

Daphne nodded. "Whatever works. What about the D.A.?"

"Right now, Michael and Ginny are working with Seamus, Lavender and Hannah to figure out how to cast the Fidelius Charm," he replied, hiding his face behind some garland; he was audible enough for only their little group to hear him.

"Yeah, and we're joining them after we're done with the festivities here." Anthony added, gesturing between him and Padma and Neville.

Daphne goggled. "The Fidelius?" she asked slowly. "We're going to attempt to do a Fidelius Charm?"

"It's the strongest Concealment Charm possible, and we need something strong, right?"

"Why?"

"The Carrows have shown they're ruthless; they'll go to extremes to get whatever they want. The Cruciatus, the Imperius . . . doesn't matter. We need to do something that'll protect our identities. And we're going to make sure The Sedition Act and our involvement with it stays well hidden."

She sighed. "How about our next meeting? Any more late night missions?"

Neville stared for a few moments, unable to answer her. But before he could respond, Blaise Zabini bellowed behind them.

"Greengrass! Step away from the vermin!" He beckoned Daphne with a couple of fingers. She flatly glared at him, as did the other D.A. members. She walked over to him and Theodore Nott, both giving the other Houses very distinct glares.

"'Vermin' was really necessary?"

"Not necessary. More oh, what's the word? Fun." Blaise smirked.

Daphne ignored him. "Hello, Theo. So, did you two find something? About Death Eaters and the dungeons?"

Blaise gestured at Nott to go first. "It's true. The Carrows've been enlisting Vincent, Greg, and occasionally Draco to help them remove the final charms off of the old dungeons. They're almost done."

She shut her eyes and let out a long breath. "That's not what I wanted to hear. How much longer?"

"Probably a week. Maybe a few days. They're about to crack the last layer of spells sealing them off. "

"Godric! Not good."

Theodore nodded. "And they've been giving those three some lessons too."

"Lessons? What the hell are they teaching them? And that reminds me, where is Mister Ferret Twat anyway? He's supposed to be down here helping me with this crap." She scanned the room, but couldn't find him.

"Speak of the devil." Blaise pointed right at the doorway to the Great Hall. Draco Malfoy strode in, pale and arrogant. He shot derisive glares at the seventh year prefects. Turning to his right, he acknowledged Blaise and Theodore with a grin and a nod.

However, when he spied Daphne, his face fell. His eyes lingered on her face for a few moments with an odd, inscrutable expression. Not angry, nor disgusted.

It was bizarre.

(What the hell is he staring at?)

She cocked her eyebrow. "What're you looking at?"

Draco responded by curling his lip into a contemptuous sneer. "Absolutely nothing, apparently." He snapped his head around to the front and walked towards the teachers' table to yell at the fifth year Hufflepuff prefects.

"That's right! Keep walking." She shook her head and spoke to Blaise. "What was that about?"

Blaise paused before he answered, a smile creeping across his face. "Interesting."

"Care to elaborate?"

He grinned, Cheshire Cat-like, at Daphne. "I have my suspicions, but let me do a little digging around first. I want to make sure I'm right before I give you a heart attack."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. What about the other thing?"

"Your two newest admirers in Slytherin? Baddock and Pritchard? Right. They're after you."

She glared at him. "Thank you, Captain Obvious. Like that wasn't apparent already."

"No. They are after you." Blaise stared at her gravely. "As in, they're being encouraged to teach you a thing or two. Well, not necessarily just you." He looked darkly at Theodore. "They seem to think that they can do whatever they want, or take whatever they want. Show everyone who's in control—"

"Who has power," she finished, beginning to feel sick. "And what exactly are they being encouraged to do?"

Blaise said nothing. He lowered his head and looked at her.

His face said everything that needed to be said.

"Fuck!" She kicked at the Slytherin table. "So on top of making nice with the sadistic bastards running the school, spying on them, and somehow making sure that students aren't getting too roughed up by them, I'm also supposed to watch out for Pervert Pritchard and Baddock the Yeti?" Daphne swore as her head fell into her hands. "Seriously, will this year just bloody end?"

"Are you going to tell Boyfriend about them?"

Daphne slumped at the mere thought of disclosing this to Michael. "Not yet. He's got way too much on his plate right now with Terry. I'll manage this. Just keep me posted, all right? Oh, and when you find out what crawled up Malfoy's arse and died, please inform me."

"That, Greengrass, is a conversation I can't wait to have." Blaise gave her one last smirk and departed from the Great Hall, with Theodore following closely behind.


The horrible loss suffered by Terry Boot from the death of his parents had a far deeper impact on Dumbledore's Army than any of the members had realized.

Neville had taken it upon himself to approach Terry in the library as he sat with several other Ravenclaws, including Anthony and Michael, while they studied. Ginny smiled as Neville described the conversation—

"He's so withdrawn, Ginny. He wasn't even writing anything down, just scratching at his parchment, pretending to look like he wasn't crying. I wanted to make sure Terry knew that he's not alone, you know? My parents might still be alive, but even if I hope that they do recognize me, I can't be certain of that." He licked his lips. "They may not know what's going on around them. They may have loved me a long time ago, but they may not know who I am anymore."

Ginny gave him a sympathetic smile and squeezed his hand comfortingly.

Hannah had also sought out Terry. "It'll help if he's surrounded by friends he can talk to, who have experienced similar losses. And," she looked at the others sheepishly, "it's good to get things off of my chest also."

"If something good can come out of all this death," Susan Bones added, with a sad smile, "then that's a start, right Annie?" Hannah nodded in agreement.

Although he agreed with the sentiments, Neville had a very hard time energizing himself and the rest of Dumbledore's Army to continue on with their efforts against the Carrows. There had been no other late night "missions" since the safe-house attack.

No one's heart seemed to be in it. Despite Luna's attempts to encourage them.

"Neville, I think it's important to keep going, to do whatever we can to keep spirits up here. It's up to us to make sure Harry's message doesn't die here."

"I know," he replied, picking up a discarded box of old wizard firework that spluttered and smoked uselessly. "But after what happened to Terry's family and how the Carrows and Snape keep punishing students, it doesn't feel right." He tossed the box aside.

Neville, Luna, Ginny and Daphne were in the Room of Requirement, looking for the stacks of pro-Muggle-born documents that had been taken from the library. Daphne and Ginny had decided to hide them in here, using the command — "I need a place to hide my parchments and books."

The Room was shockingly messy; it must have been filled with magical objects hidden by various witches and wizards throughout the centuries that Hogwarts had been open. Vast and cavernous, Daphne and Ginny had initially worried about where to hide the materials, lest they get lost among the glut of garbage. They had decided to shrink the stacks into a much smaller, more manageable pile, and conceal it in a cabinet that Daphne had used in past to hide compromising photographs of Eddie Carmichael and Blaise Zabini.

As Luna engaged Neville and Ginny in a conversation about the D.A., Daphne remained preoccupied with another piece of furniture and had her back turned away from them.

"No matter what, people are still going to get hurt." Luna slowly canted her head, keeping her protuberant eyes locked on Neville and Ginny's faces. Her earrings, resembling what Luna claimed was a Nargle's nest, dangled just above her shoulders, her blonde hair tangling in its haphazard shape.

"It doesn't matter what we do," she continued. "That's what you said, ages ago, when we took a vote as the entire D.A. to step up our efforts against the Carrows and Snape. 'We can't let them win, and that's what'll happen if we stop speaking up.' Those were your words, Neville."

Ginny smirked. "I've never heard you so emphatic, Luna."

"I simply don't like it when I think my friends are making a mistake." She continued to smile at both Ginny and Neville in her dreamy way. "The brightest beam of sunlight can break through any cloud that's filled with rain."

"That's nice. Where did you get that from?" Ginny asked.

"My mother. She was quite a witch," she replied wistfully. "She was always the optimist, always believed in silver linings. She told me that no matter how dark things seemed to get, there would always be light to somehow make things better.

Luna smiled, more broadly this time. "My father tells me I got my outlook on life from her. And that makes me happy."

Neville chuckled softly. "Maybe we need more of your spirit to rub off onto us."

A tiny yelp interrupted their conversation.

"Daphne?"

The Slytherin was still squatting in front of a cabinet, upon which sat a bust of an old warlock wearing a dingy wig.

"Daphne?" Ginny asked impatiently. She snapped her fingers, trying to get her attention.

Daphne continued to stare absent-mindedly at the cabinet, her arms inside it.

"Hello? Wakey-wakey!"

"It's still here." The Slytherin spoke very softly, not addressing her words to anyone in particular.

"What're you talking about?" Ginny waited for an answer as Neville and Luna joined them. Daphne was holding something in her hands.

"What is that, Daphne?" Luna asked.

Daphne stood up, showing her, Ginny and Neville the object she was holding. "It's just a tiara, actually. I've seen this a few times in the past, and the last time I was in here with Blaise, I touched it." She offered the diadem to the others. "It looks old. Kinda fake, to be honest. But there's something odd about it." She nudged it towards them, waiting for someone else to hold it. "Well, go on. See what I mean?"

Ginny looked at Neville and Luna, shrugged, and took it in her own hands. "Whoa!" Her eyes grew large and she looked at Daphne with surprise. "It's really bloody cold."

"I know. Like several degrees colder than this room, right?" Daphne asked.

"Yeah, and . . . and, wow!" She looked closer at the bauble. It was tarnished and dingy, but there was something that felt ancient about it. She could almost imagine that the tiara had seen so many different things in its lifetime. Oh, the stories it could tell—

And then the thing moved in her palm.

She jumped. "Eww!" She dropped it in her shock. Luna reached out and caught it before it could hit the floor.

"Circe's Ghost, that's weird!" Ginny tried shaking her hand to get the icky sensation off of her. "There's something living inside it, I think. It . . . it moved," she whinged.

"You felt that too?" Daphne snapped her fingers, as if she had been expecting that to happen.

"Uh-huh." Ginny wiped her hand on her jeans. "It had this weird pulse or, uh . . ."

"Heartbeat?"

"Yeah. A heartbeat. And it's so cold. Eurgh!" She rubbed her hands together, wiggling them rapidly to get rid of the nasty feeling the tiara had left behind.

"It did the same thing to me when I picked it up," Daphne said, nodding.

"Why would a piece of jewellery have a pulse?" Neville asked, moving closer to Luna to get a better look at the thing. "Unless it's been charmed to do something specific, inanimate objects can't move."

Daphne shrugged, at the same time Luna gasped. "Oh my goodness! I can't believe this!"

The other three turned and looked at her. "What?" they asked simultaneously.

"This is an exact replica of Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem. It actually looks like it might be that old, too. Look at the rust and the discoloration."

Luna's revelation was met with silence.

"Er, okay . . . I'll bite," Daphne said. "Luna, the lost diadem is lost. That's sort of the point. And hasn't it been lost for centuries? How do you know what it would look like?"

"There's a marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw in our common room wearing a tiara that looks just like this. See? Right here." She rubbed on the slender band with her thumb. Ginny could barely make out small, delicate writing, etched into the tiara in a slender cursive:

"'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'"

"One of my mother's hobbies was studying the headdresses of Rowena Ravenclaw's time. She made a diadem that looked just like this one. It was based upon the tiara that adorned the statue. After she died, my father continued making models of magical headdresses. He has this really ornate one that he's been working on for — oh my stars!"

Luna jumped, much like Ginny did when she felt the tiara's pulse. "I felt that! I felt something inside the diadem move."

"I know!" Ginny and Daphne looked at each other as they spoke at the same time.

Luna turned the diadem over and over in her hand, her expression growing increasingly troubled. "Neville's right. It shouldn't have done that. Unless there's some sort of enchantment to trap something living inside it. It's unnerving."

"And creepy." Daphne eyed the tiara suspiciously.

Neville took it from Luna and creased his brow, squinting to get a better look at the writing and the tarnished metal. "I don't know, but something about this feels really off. Should we tell someone about this?"

Daphne and Ginny looked at each other and shrugged. "Who? Flitwick?"

"He's Head of Ravenclaw House." Neville offered. "And we know we can trust him."

Luna regarded the diadem, her face growing more and more sceptical. "There's no doubting the side Flitwick's on, but—" She turned her eyes back up at to the others, flinching a bit as the tiara apparently moved again. "My instincts are telling me to keep this between ourselves."

Neville raised his eyebrow. "What about finding out what's going on inside of it?"

She shook her head. "The diadem is very old. And it looks enough like the statute's version of Ravenclaw's headpiece. Her tiara is said to impart great knowledge and wisdom upon its wearer. If there is even the slightest possibility that this is Ravenclaw's lost diadem, no one else should know it's here. I can only imagine if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or any of his followers were ever able to find it; it could be potentially devastating."

"If this is Ravenclaw's lost diadem. Big if."

"True, Daphne. But I'd rather err on the side of caution."

Neville regarded Luna's final words on the matter. Finally he nodded. "I defer to you, Luna. Daphne? Ginny?"

The two girls looked at him.

"We'll keep this between us four. That means you can't say anything to Michael."

Daphne gaped. "But . . ."

Neville's severe stare made her close her mouth.

"Fine. I'll keep this from him. Trust and honesty in relationships are so overrated."

Neville looked at her flatly. "You haven't told anyone else about this? Blaise—?"

"I never mentioned it to Blaise, and I won't now. You lot're the first that've I actually shown. So, go team." She feebly held up her thumb.

Neville nodded. "All right. We'll keep our lips zipped." He nodded towards the other set of cabinets in the back of the room. "Now, shall we go check on our Muggle-born paraphernalia?"

The four students made their way over to the box filled with parchments and documents confiscated from the library, pushing the odd diadem that seemed to have a life of its own to the backs of their minds.


Despite Luna's lecture in the Room of Requirement, the D.A. remained in a state of limbo throughout the first half of December. Neville kept saying that he was waiting for Anthony and the others to figure out how to cast the Fidelius Charm. But when it was just the two of them, he confided to Ginny that he felt like he had lost his desire to lead.

"It doesn't feel right, Ginny. Not while Terry's still mourning."

Ginny wanted to argue with him, to stand up and tell him no! Luna's right. They're going to hurt us anyway, so we might as well do what the D.A. was born to do, and stand up to these bastards!

All that sounded really good in her head, but when she opened her mouth, a huge groan came out instead. "It really hurts, doesn't it?" Neville could only look at her morosely.

Luna still kept at both of them, though. She talked to them in the hallways, telling them the same things over and over again—

"But Neville, remember what you said to the others."

"I can't!" He exclaimed desperately. Ginny winced; she knew he really wasn't one to lose his temper about things, but Terry's loss had left him drifting in an ocean of uncertainty.

"Luna, I'm sorry for yelling at you, but I just can't." His voice was filled with sadness. "It's the wrong time to do this stuff. It's silly and childish and there's been so much pain. Everything we do seems pointless."

"But it's your words, Neville. Don't forget your words."

He couldn't respond to her, and instead turned around to walk back to Gryffindor Tower.

"How's Terry doing?" Ginny asked, watching Neville walk away.

"He's still very sad," she replied in a soft voice. "But he's starting to open up more about things. I told him how I felt when I lost my mother, how sad I was and how thinking about her made me cry after she died."

"Oh Luna. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be! It gets better with time, see? The pain fades after time has passed. Eventually, you're able to remember the good things. The loved ones we lose are never really gone far from us. I know my mother's with me, no matter where I am. I told Terry that too. Perhaps his parents and my mother have already met. Maybe they've become the best of friends."

Luna smiled in her dreamy way. "I do believe that my mother must be well wherever she is. With any luck, perhaps his mother and father have found a place where they can live forever and watch over Terry. It would be nice if they have a garden. My mother loved flowers and gardening and planting things. And maybe — just maybe — she's helping them getting their garden to grow and blossom with new life."

Ginny couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit more optimistic after Luna's speech. She wished Neville could've heard it.

Then, towards the end of the second week of December, something strange happened.

Ginny sat with Neville in the common room, trying desperately to do Transfiguration assignments. They ended up talking about the D.A. instead.

"What's wrong with us, huh?" Neville regarded his blank parchment sadly. "We went to all this trouble to re-form Dumbledore's Army, but, right now, all I can think is that this is pointless." He let his head fall onto his hands, balled up and wrapped together like one big fist. He beat his head slow and steadily.

He was clearly as frustrated as she was.

"Are we making any difference? Does it even matter?" Ginny mumbled. Neville shrugged.

"That's what I don't know."

They heard the portrait swing open, and there was an increasing roar of indistinguishable sounds. Neville stood up to check it out and Ginny stayed close behind him.

"What's going on?"

Demelza Robins ran up to him, her face alight with some happy secret. "Neville. Please tell me you saw it. That both of you saw it!" She grinned at them, but didn't elaborate

Neville and Ginny looked at each other, completely and utterly confused. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"It's great!" Cosima Ramsay ran up to them and took Ginny by her hand. "You've gotta see this."

Demelza grabbed Neville and the two older Gryffindors were dragged through the portrait door. As soon as they emerged onto the Grand Staircase, they were surrounded by a gaggle of younger students all asking about the commotion.

By the time they almost reached the fifth floor, they heard it—

"We believe in Potter! Harry Potter!"

Neville looked at Ginny; she stared ahead of her, not quite sure what to make of the singing.

"Somebody charmed the suits of armour all along the Defence Class corridor," Demelza said breathlessly. "You know what that is, right?"

Neville shook his head. "I've got no idea."

"We are the Geordies . . . the Geordie Boot Boys." Jack Sloper caught up with them. "It's a Newcastle chant. Football, you know?" He was grinning from ear to ear, and he clapped at the song. "We are mental, we are mad . . . We're the loyalest football supporters the world's ever had!"

He shot ahead of the pack, and as Ginny looked around, she could see students all streaming from every which direction, all converging en masse onto the third floor corridor.

Neville started yelling. "Excuse me! Pushing past. Prefect here." But he had a hold of Ginny's hand and was pulling her along with him as well. Somehow, the two Gryffindors managed to squeeze their way through the throngs and they found a small recognizable crowd enraptured by the singing.

"Who did this?" Ginny leaned towards Padma Patil. Padma was standing with Parvati Patil, who hummed and clapped after each line—

The helmets on all eight of the suits of armour were moving together in perfectly synchronized singing.

"We believe in Potter! Harry Potter! We are right and we are mad! We're the loyalest supporters Harry Potter's ever had! Second verse! Same as the first!"

And on and on they sang. It was brilliant. It was bold and audacious. And the other members of Dumbledore's Army had no idea who had done it.

"Neville? Did you—?"

He shook his head at Hannah's question. "I've got no idea. I had nothing to do with this, but I wish I had."

Ernie Macmillan and Susan Bones snuck up behind them.

"I can't believe this," Susan had a broad grin on her face. "It's amazing!"

Ernie nodded vigorously. I want to take credit for it, but I can't! I've got no idea where this chant came from—"

Parvati gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth. "Football!"

"Uh . . . yeah," Ginny said. "Jack Sloper said that this was a football chant—"

"Well, who else in Dumbledore's Army's a big football fan? Hmm?"

Ginny's mouth dropped open. She was about to say his name, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Heh. Fancy that."

Ginny turned to look at Michael Corner, a mild and casual expression on his face. He creased his eyebrows in a thoughtful manner. "Wonder whose brilliant idea that was, to charm all the suits of armour to sing a Muggle football chant. Newcastle, no less."

There was another sigh. Daphne Greengrass was shaking her head and holding back a smile as she looked at the suits of armour. She stood close enough to Michael to touch his arm, but she didn't in case they were being watched. "This just made my job a lot harder."

Ginny winced. "Will you be able to throw the Carrows off of this?"

Daphne nodded. "Oh, sure." She shrugged, and Ginny watched as the smile she had been fighting the whole time popped out as a little smirk. "Top of my 'To Do' List."

"Just be careful, Love."

Daphne blushed at Michael, and glared at him with an angry expression. "I've got to make it seem like you just said something I did not approve of, but I like that you called me that. I liked it a lot!"

Michael frowned back. "Well, I'll keep saying it over and over then. Love!"

Daphne drew her lips together and snorted; she was clearly trying to stop herself from laughing. Instead, she pivoted and pushed through the throng to attend to her Head Girl duties.

"You two really are serious, aren't you?"

Michael merely grinned and said nothing, making Ginny giggle. She turned back to the ever-tuneful suits of armour, now probably on their thirtieth verse.

"Where is he?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Terry."

"Oh!" The look of surprise at hearing Terry's name froze on Michael's face for a few moments. Then he shrugged. "Got no idea."

Ginny swatted him.

"Ow!"

"Yes you do, Michael." Her face softened. "How's he doing?"

He looked at her without saying anything. Then he coughed and nodded towards his right. Ginny looked over.

There, standing off in the distance, away from everyone else, was Terry Boot, his hand on his book bag. He remained still, his eyes remained focused on the singing suits of armour, his expression mild, but peaceful, satisfied with the decision he had made.

And next to him was Luna Lovegood, grinning as she hummed and bobbed her head to the beat of the song. She saw Ginny and smiled in her typical Luna way.


A/N: Daphne's line to Luna about Ravenclaw's diadem comes directly from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, pg. 384. And Michael Corner actually says it in the book.

This chapter was fairly heavy in references to Daphne Greengrass and the 6th Year From Hell. Daphne first spied the tiara in DG6YFH Chapter 24: The Uncaring Snake. She also blackmailed Blaise and Eddie with the knowledge of their relationship in Chapter 12: A Snake Cornered.

And I do believe, in the actual football chant, it is actually spelled "loyalest". And Ginny, Neville, Luna and Daphne finding the tiara in this room does mean that there will be a couple of changes from the events that lead up to the battle. Those change will have some effect on my third and final "From Hell" story.

If you have a few moments, I'd love to get your feedback on "Two Wrongs", a Draco/Daphne infidelity piece I wrote for a LJ challenge. It's rated M, but there are hints of Daphne/Michael in the past. Thanks!