Disclaimer: I can say with absolute certainty, that if I had ever had any ownership of Harry Potter and was therefore currently faced with the question of whether or not going back for the chump change of several hundred thousand in cash that I left in the laundromat was worth the effort, it might have occurred to me to have a single person ever, in the previous six books, mention a single thing about wands switching ownership when their previous owner was disarmed, before it became the one and only method of defeating the primary antagonist of the series.
Chapter Six
Forcing herself to sit at the Gryffindor table was harder now that it had been at the end of last year. Back then, she had just been around the other Slytherins for the whole year, and her attention was taken up in those last two days by the very new concept of pretending to be someone else.
Now, while she still wasn't practiced at being Harry in front of other students, she had been away for the entire summer. For three months, she had been on her own. The truth was, she missed her friends. She missed being Daphne, and everything that came with that. She was the heiress to one of the last remaining Noble and Most Ancient Houses and, selfish as it might seem, she missed everything that had entailed.
Still, with only a slightly longing look toward the table where she had sat the year before, Daphne took the seat next to Weasley and glumly pushed Harry's glasses back up on her face. She had repaired them, again, but the fit was off once more. She was going to have to fiddle with them later, once they had gotten through the Sorting and the feast.
The ride up to the castle in the carriages had been crowded, with the first years squeezed in alongside everyone else, and noisy as everyone tried to talk at once. Some students had even attempted to hold conversations from one carriage to another, leaning out their windows and calling back and forth. Overall, the gist was clear, no one knew why the train had gone into the lake, and absolutely everybody had their own theory. Malfoy blamed Dumbledore, Luna claimed that it was a sure sign of something-or-other infestation, one of the older Ravenclaws believed that Peeves had finally gone too far in his pranks, Weasley blamed every Slytherin in existence, and one rather outspoken fourth year Hufflepuff firmly believed that this was only the first stage of a massive house-elf rebellion.
Even once they'd arrived at the castle things hadn't calmed down. Dumbledore had gone off with Bill Weasley and Hagrid to discuss what had happened, their faces looking pensive and drawn while the Headmaster had simply looked tired. While they were gone, and Professor McGonagall was out with the first years, getting them ready, the discussions had continued with just as much fervor and intensity.
All of the arguments and blind claims had been loud, long, and exhausting. Daphne had kept quiet throughout the ride and the subsequent table-to-table discussions, letting the words flow past her. She had learned to meditate years ago, discovering that the ability to let her thoughts drift and focus on nothing was essential to not losing her mind. She remained silent while others argued so that whenever she did speak up, people tended to listen.
Of course, that wasn't Potter's way, but it was a difficult habit to break.
When she saw the potions instructor up at the staff table, Daphne had actually lifted a hand to wave at her old head of house and smiled politely without thinking.
The man's response had been a suspicious and blatant glare, and Daphne had only belatedly remembered that the Slytherin head of house hated Harry Potter for some reason or another.
Resting her chin in one hand, she went back to staring at the seat she had always preferred at the Slytherin table. It was empty, with Tracy and Pansy on either side. It almost looked as though they were saving the seat for Daphne, which sent another pang through her and brought on a sigh.
"Harry?" Hermione had noticed the sigh, and the look. "Are you all right?" She followed 'his' line of sight and winced. It looked as though she had been about to say something, but in that moment, the doors of the Great Hall swung open at the back of the room, and Professor McGonagall began to lead the First Years (who had simply been receiving last minute instructions and greetings from the Deputy Headmistress in the corridor, since they hadn't had to cross the lake on the boats) into the room.
Turning slightly, grateful for the interruption, Daphne watched as the younger students, who looked much more nervous than she could remember being at that time (of course, the train sabotage made that completely understandable), filed past the tables and up toward the front of the room.
The Sorting Hat began its song, but Daphne wasn't listening. All of her attention was devoted once again toward her old seat. How easy would it be to simply stand up, announce the truth, and go back to her old life? She could be herself again, after a summer of being alone. She could be popular, rich, and respected. A snap of her fingers could grant her anything she wanted almost as easily as when a house-elf did it. She could be Daphne Adelaide Greengrass, and never have to worry about any of this again.
Except that she would worry about it. She could never live with herself if she didn't carry on with the job she had given herself. As tempting as it was to give all this up, Daphne couldn't do it. Whenever she thought about what Potter had done to save her, the thought of letting that sacrifice mean nothing made her want to vomit.
Once the Hat was done, the actual Sorting could begin. Colin Creevey, the boy who had apparently been bemoaning his ruined camera, was the first to come to Gryffindor. Daphne applauded absently, part of her wishing that the sorting could take place before school began so that they could get on with things instead of making such a big production out of it every year.
Eventually, a boy named Preston Harper grew so startled by the Hat's presence on his head that he tore it off and threw it out into the tables with a cry of surprise. Daphne had no idea what the hat could have said to the boy to startle him so much, but he looked thoroughly sheepish once the act was done. McGonagall retrieved the hat with a wave of her wand, and the boy submitted to its presence once more. Only a brief second was needed before the hat announced its decision, and Harper was sent to Slytherin.
More students were sent to their respective tables, including Luna, whom the hat immediately directed to Ravenclaw.
Then came time for Weasley, Ginny to be sorted. Ron nudged 'Harry'. "Budge over a bit, would you? I'm sure Gin'll complain if she doesn't get to sit right with us. Always going on about how we leave her behind. I'll tell you one thing, we're never gonna get a moment's peace with that-"
"SLYTHERIN!"
Ron was rising and applauding reflexively, turning his face up toward his sister on the stool. Only once he had taken in her stricken, confused look and seen everyone else at the Gryffindor table remaining seated and silent did he process what had been said. "Wait, what?"
Everyone else looked just as surprised. Everyone save for Bill Weasley, who stood from his chair and moved past Professor McGonagall to take a knee next to his baby sister. Plucking the hat off her head and handing it to the deputy headmistress, he whispered something into Ginny's ear and then pointed to the Slytherin table.
Then he rose and, quite deliberately, began to applaud. After a moment, Dumbledore joined him, followed by McGonagall, Flitwick, and then the rest of the staff. Even Ginny's new head of house joined in with a tiny smirk. The applause finally drifted out to the students, as Ginny, whose face was as red as her hair, moved to take her seat.
The embarrassing crush on the eldest Weasley boy that Daphne had been fighting against redoubled, and she had to violently suppress the urge to sigh dreamily.
Ron was still standing, staring as his sister took her seat at the Slytherin table. As Professor McGonagall began to call the last name, the boy literally cupped his hands to his mouth and called, "Do-over!"
Every eye in the room swiveled to the source of the noise, and Daphne tried to shrink down in her seat. On the other side of her, Hermione did the same. The Granger girl whispered out of the side of her mouth, "Is that invisibility cloak handy?"
"I wish." Daphne replied, closing her eyes and praying that Ron took the hint and sat down.
But he didn't. Instead, Ron actually moved away from the table, running right up to where McGonagall was. The two argued quietly, though not so quiet that Daphne failed to note the indignation on the older woman's face as Ron actually questioned the integrity of the hat. The boy was putting out all manner of conspiracy theories, mostly revolving Slytherins sabotaging the Sorting Hat for some kind of prank.
"Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall finally announced in loud exasperation. "If you do not sit down and refrain from questioning the Sorting Hat's prowess toward its one and only function, I may be forced to take your advice by having you re-sorted. Perhaps the Hat may be persuaded to add the merpeople of the Black Lake to its prospective groups."
Finally, mercifully, Ron returned to his seat. A glance toward the Slytherin table showed that Ginny was sitting as far from the other students as she could, her head resting on her folded arms. Her shoulders shook every once in awhile.
The sight made Daphne cringe. The idea of Slytherin house being the place for evil students was so ingrained in the Weasley family that not only did it make Ron jump up and make an utter arse of himself, but it had reduced Ginny herself to obvious tears.
No. She wouldn't let that happen. She may be pretending to be Gryffindor for the time being, but to Merlin's Grave if she was going to let a little girl, even a Weasley girl, go on being that upset over the House she had been sorted into. A House was one's identity for at the very least seven years, and most often carried on throughout their life. Ginny Weasley was not going to go on believing that her placement meant something bad about her. Daphne would not allow it.
She'd find a way to talk it out with the girl, somehow.
Once Ron sat down, he glared down the table at his older brothers. "Where the hell were you lot?" He demanded. "You should've been helping Ginny too."
Percy, his prefect badge shining from the repeated polishing he hadn't stopped giving it, gave no response other than to lower his head and groan weakly.
"Is that what you call it, dear brother?" Fred or... George, whichever, asked curiously. He tapped a finger against his chin. "It looked like something else to us."
"Yes," George or Fred agreed. "Now what did it look like? It starts with an H..."
"Hubristic?" Fred or George offered.
George or Fred considered that. "Hmm, no, we're thinking of something else. Horrifying?"
"Close." Fred or George gave a quick nod. "But not quite. No, there's one very specific word that encompasses what you just did."
"Humiliating." Hermione put in, her face livid as she stared at Ron. "Utterly humiliating."
"That's the one!" The two boys announced together. They both grinned, and George or Fred pointed at her. "Knew there was a reason we kept you around, moppet."
Fred or George nodded. "Though we also would have accepted B, for bellend. A big, blubbering bellend."
Ron's head shook violently. "What are you talking about? I was trying to save Ginny from-"
"From what?" Daphne finally spoke, 'his' voice like ice as 'he' stared at the boy. "Please, tell me what humiliating your sister, singling her out apart from every other student and making both her, and everyone else think that there's something wrong with her for being sorted into one of four possible houses accomplished, exactly. Because I can't wait to hear the clearly fascinating thought process that led to that display seeming to be a good idea."
Now everyone was staring at 'him', and Daphne realized belatedly that that had not really been anything like Harry Potter. Whoops.
"Sorry, Harry." Ron looked equal parts confused and indignant, settling into his seat with a long look at 'him'. "Maybe if you'd told us about your secret girlfriend last year, I could've gotten used to Slytherins being around."
"Ron!" Hermione gasped, shooting a violent look across the space between them.
Daphne, for her part, was confused. Harry had a secret Slytherin girlfriend? Was it someone she knew?
Granger turned back to her. "I'm sorry, Harry, I tried to stop them from gossiping, but... well, they're convinced that you and... it's just that you were so upset about her death, and the fact that she was there to begin with, and..."
"Daphne did sacrifice herself to save you." Ron finished with an awkward shrug. "It's not exactly a normal Slytherin thing."
It took her brain another moment to catch up with what they were implying. "Daphne!?" She exclaimed. "People think that I was Ha- hanging out with Daphne? They think she and I were..."
"It's ridiculous, Harry." Hermione said with a sniff. "As if a boy and a girl couldn't be friends without something like that. And we're far too young anyway. Honestly, some people-" She looked toward Ron deliberately. "-need to grow up."
"Does everyone think that she and I were like that?" Daphne looked up and down the table, receiving a chorus of nods, including one that confused her further. "Creevey, didn't you just get here?"
The younger boy pointed to the third year girl next to him. "She told me."
"You sat down seven minutes ago!" Daphne exclaimed in loud exasperation.
"Harry, it's okay." Hermione tried to calm 'him'. "It's all right if you were friends with her. I mean, I'd say I wish you didn't hide it, but considering the reaction you've gotten, I'm not surprised. I'm really sorry about what happened. You can talk about it whenever you want."
"But we weren't!" Daphne shook her head. "Harry-" She cleared her throat. "Harry and Daphne Greengrass never even spoke to each other outside of class before that night, I swear. Is it that inconceivable that she was just a good person who didn't want someone else to die?"
The question was met with blank, uncomfortable looks, making Daphne roll her eyes. "Oh for Mordred's sake, you people are impossible." She turned her attention solely to the front, in time to hear Dumbledore finish up his welcome speech by promising that the situation with the train was being investigated and that they were all perfectly safe while on Hogwarts grounds. Then he cautioned them to avoid the Forbidden Forest if they wished to maintain that safety, before inviting the students to dig in to the feast.
The food appeared, and Daphne had a moment to wonder why the Headmaster hadn't mentioned that she-knew-who was back. Or would be back soon. Daphne wasn't quite clear on that. Would it take the dark wizard weeks, months, or years to return to his full power using the stone? Could she put a stop to it if she could manage to get the stone itself away from Quirrel? Assuming she could track the old Defense teacher down to begin with.
Once she took a moment to think about it, Daphne realized that was likely the reason why Dumbledore hadn't brought it up, honestly. If he alarmed everyone now and she-knew-who took a year or more to return to his former self, no one would believe him. Their guards would lapse, and Dumbledore himself might even lose his credibility.
Honestly, were she the bad guy, that's how she'd do it. She'd make her return as quiet and as secret as possible so that Dumbledore's call to arms would be ignored until it was too late.
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"Ginny, wait up!" Daphne had left Granger and the Weasley boy behind once the feast ended, ducking her way through the crowd in order to catch up with the red-head girl as she made her way quickly out of the room. Ginny hadn't even waited for her own House prefect to guide the group to the common room.
When she stopped and saw who was calling her, the girl's mouth fell open once more and she stood in rapt silence, staring.
"You went off without your housemates." Daphne said, frowning. "How are you going to find your common room?" When this was met with the same wide eyed silence, she sighed. "Okay, look." Tugging the other girl by the arm down a side corridor, she carefully took off the glasses and put them in her pocket. Then she brushed the bangs of her hair down to cover her forehead. She had been keeping the scar front and center, because it was the first thing people looked for and paid attention to when they saw 'Harry Potter'. As long as they could see that distinctive lightning bolt scar, they tended to overlook other inconsistencies. It was a simple ruse.
But now she wanted it covered and out of sight. Making sure her bangs hid it, she tugged the other girl to a bench and sat down next to her. "Look at me, Ginny. See, no boy-who-lived. I'm just somebody that's talking to you. So talk to me. Why'd you run out like that?"
After meeting 'his' eyes for just a second, Ginny looked away and down toward the floor. Her voice was full of self-loathing. "They put me in Slytherin. What's mum going to say?"
"If she's a good mum," Daphne answered with a shrug. "She'll say that she's so glad, so relieved that you weren't hurt when the train went in the lake. She'll tell you that her heart stopped when she heard about it, and didn't start again until she knew you were safe. And then if anyone, even you, bring up your House, she'll say that it doesn't matter. She'll say it doesn't change who you are or that you're her daughter and she loves you."
"Because it doesn't, Ginny. It doesn't change anything. Your mum loves you. It doesn't matter what House you get sorted into. All that matters is that you-" She poked the girl in the chest. "-are you. Her daughter. Her little girl. Her only girl. That's far more important than any House."
Ginny was quiet for a long moment before taking in a long breath. She risked a peek up at 'him'. "But everyone in my family's always been in Gryffindor. We're Gryffindors. My brothers, my mum, my dad, our grandparents, their grandparents, we've always gone to Gryffindor. And... it's Slytherin."
Daphne paused to consider her response. "Ginny, what exactly do you know about Slytherin?"
The other girl shrugged. "It's for bad people?"
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes and sigh again, Daphne shook her head. "Tell me something, is Headmaster Dumbledore an idiot?"
That made Ginny blink in confusion. "No? He's brilliant. He's the best wizard who ever lived. Everybody knows that."
"Okay." Nodding, Daphne raised an eyebrow. "So, if there was a single House where only bad people went, and all of the bad people always came from that House, would the most brilliant wizard who ever lived keep teaching them? If it was that easy, to literally put a hat on someone's head and know without a shadow of a doubt that if the hat said 'Slytherin', that they were going to be evil and that only they would be the evil ones, would he just keep them around and let them learn everything that everyone else learns?"
Ginny stared at 'him' for a long few seconds, her mouth opening and shutting a few times. Finally, all she could do was shake her head silently, a look of consideration passing over her young face.
"Let's do it this way," Daphne decided. "What type of people is Gryffindor for?"
"Brave people!" Ginny exclaimed immediately. "Gryffindors are the bravest, most courageous people there are."
Daphne shrugged at that. "Okay, Gryffindors are brave. What about Hufflepuffs?"
"Uhh, they're..." Ginny trailed off, thinking for a moment, brow furrowing in thought.
"Loyal." Daphne supplied. "Hufflepuffs are loyal. No matter what, they stick by their friends. If you pick on one Hufflepuff, you're picking on every single one of them. Their House doesn't really tend to attract the students that openly excel, but they make up for it by working together. Maybe it takes two or three Puffs to equal a single superstar Gryffindor, but they'll use nine or ten just to make the point. And they can, because Hufflepuffs stick together."
Having picked up the gist of where the conversation was going next, Ginny supplied, "Ravenclaws are smart?"
Daphne nodded. "Smart, clever, curious, take your pick. They like to find the answers to everything, and they are very, very good at finding those answers. Do you ever wonder why Granger isn't in Ravenclaw?"
The question made Ginny frown. "She's really smart. Really, really smart. Ron says she's so smart that-"
"Yeah, she's brilliant, whatever." Daphne tried to keep the jealousy out of her own tone. "My point is, why isn't she in Ravenclaw?"
The other girl shook her head, a confused expression on her face. "I don't know." She perked up then. "Did the Sorting Hat mess up with her too?"
Restraining a sigh, Daphne shook her head. "No. There was no mistake. A Ravenclaw is smart, but they're also curious. They're smart because they have to find out the answers to things, no matter what rule gets in the way. Hermione never met a rule she didn't want to follow."
"It's like this, Hermione is brilliant because she reads and memorizes books. She does the homework, is studious and is really good at doing exactly what the book tells her to do. But Ravenclaws read the books and then they want to know why it works that way. Hermione memorizes, Ravenclaws investigate. They'll break the rules, go around the books, talk to people, even try things that aren't in the books just to get the answers they want. Hermione memorizes the answers the book gives her. Ravenclaws come up with new questions and then go find the answers themselves."
After taking that in for a moment, Ginny hesitated. "So, what does that have to do with me and being in S-slytherin?" She stumbled over the name, blanching when she said it.
"Everything." Daphne answered. "Because being in Slytherin doesn't make you evil any more than being in Gryffindor made Hermione dumb. She is who she is, no matter what House she gets put in. And Slytherin itself isn't about being evil. Just like being in Gryffindor is about being brave, or being in Hufflepuff is about being loyal, or being in Ravenclaw is about being clever and curious, being in Slytherin is about being cunning."
Seeing the other girl consider that, Daphne continued. "Think of it like this, say there's a door that you need to get through. A Gryffindor will rear back and kick the door down, then charge right through. A Hufflepuff will wait for all of their friends, and break the door down together to get inside. A Ravenclaw will check the door itself and realize that it's not locked."
"A Slytherin, on the other hand, will figure out that the door is probably trapped or being watched. So they'll go around the other way, find a different entrance, and come up behind the person who was trying to ambush them on the other side of the door." She tapped her head. "Being a Slytherin is all about using your head, Ginny. It's about winning not because you're the smartest, the bravest, or because you have the best friends, but because you use your head and you find the way to beat people stronger than you. You find the way to survive, the way to take care of the people who matter to you even if they're facing something more powerful than you could ever dream of being. It's about fighting smart, not hard."
"It's about cheating?" The other girl asked hesitantly.
"Would you rather cheat, and beat someone more powerful than you, who would kill everyone you know once you're gone?" Daphne asked her. "Or would you rather lose?"
Ginny's voice was soft, almost a whisper. "I'm not evil for going to Slytherin?"
Daphne's head shook firmly. "No. You are not evil for going to Slytherin."
A sudden smile lit up the girl's face then, as the weight that had settled heavily on her shoulders ever since she had been sorted lifted a little bit. Then she paused and frowned. "What about Malfoy? Ron talks about him all the time. He doesn't sound very cunning."
"Are you kidding?" Daphne asked dryly. "If being a Slytherin is about finding the way to win every fight no matter how unfair, Draco is the perfect example. He solves every single disagreement with six words: 'when my father hears about this...'"
Ginny giggled at that, and Daphne felt like, for the first time, taking Potter's place had resulted in something good.
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After taking Ginny to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons (ignoring the question of how she knew where it was), and delivering her to the fifth year prefect who was rather frantic about having lost one of his charges on the very first night, Daphne made her way up to where the Gryffindor dorms were. She found Ron and Hermione waiting outside to tell 'Harry' the new password, told the former rather shortly that 'he' had spoken to Ginny and that the girl would be all right, then yawned openly and excused herself for the night before going upstairs.
Weasley came in behind Daphne, hesitating before he spoke up. "Hey, thanks for uhh, for talking to Gin. I wouldn't have known what to say."
Mouthing, 'no kidding' as she faced away from the boy, Daphne finally turned around and shrugged. "Just don't write her off. And please don't be stupid enough to say anything about her being in the 'wrong' House again. You'll just make it worse."
Ron shook his head, still staring. "When did you become so buddy buddy with the snakes?"
Choosing not to dignify that with an answer, mostly because she couldn't think of one, Daphne instead turned back to the bed that had been Potter's, falling face first down on top of it before dragging the blanket back and sliding under it.
"Aren't you gonna change?" Ron asked from the direction of the other bed.
She made the mistake of turning her head to look that way as she started to respond, getting an eyeful of the Weasley boy in mid-change himself. Immediately squeezing her eyes tightly shut while her subconscious ran in circles screaming at the top of its lungs before dousing its head in a bucket of sanitary potion, Daphne took a moment to find her voice. "Too tired to worry about it now. Just need sleep."
She really was going to have to figure out how to handle this whole 'changing clothes' thing. It was a problem that had niggled at her brain over the entire summer, but other than avoiding the issue, spending her nights burrowed deep under covers and never, ever letting anyone actually see her in pajamas, Daphne had yet to figure out a perfect solution.
"Well, get some rest." Ron urged. "I heard that Oliver's gonna have the team out on the pitch first thing after classes tomorrow. Poor bloke's desperate to win the cup this year, after what happened at the end of last year. Err, not that that was your fault or anything."
Daphne groaned into the pillow. Quidditch. How could she have forgotten about bloody Quidditch? Potter was the team seeker, and she barely knew how to fly. There had to be a way out of it. Hell, maybe she could claim that seeing she-knew-who at the end of last year had put 'him' off flying for good?"
Of course, that could only work at all if Dumbledore had told anyone that the dark wizard himself had returned, that... he was back.
Frowning against the pillow then, Daphne rolled over and looked at the ceiling. She-Knew-Who. You-Knew-Who. So... why couldn't she remember who exactly, then?
"Ron?"
"Eh?" The boy had climbed into his own bed by that point.
"What's his name?" Daphne continued to frown at the ceiling.
"Who?"
"You-know-who." She supplied. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I... can't remember what his name is."
This was really bad. Sure everyone used 'they-knew-who' and so forth, but his name, the name he went by, was permanently engrained into the collective consciousness of the entire society. Why couldn't she recall it?
Ron seemed equally puzzled. "Umm... Damn, it's on the tip of my tongue, I swear. Ahhh..."
Two of the other Gryffindor boys, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, came in then. Ron put the question to them, and neither could supply any answer.
Well this was just ridiculous. If it hadn't been so late, Daphne would have gone to ask a teacher. She would in the morning. For a moment, she sighed at the fact that she was going to have to talk to Professor McGonagall. Not only was fooling adults about who she was much harder, but she didn't have the close relationship with the woman that the real Potter had.
If only she could talk to her own, real Head of House. The man might be strict and rather unfair to non-Slytherins, even she could see and acknowledge that, but he had always been willing to answer any questions about the Dark Lord that his students had.
Maybe she'd still try to talk to him. After all, he might know more than McGonagall about what might have made her and the rest of the students forget who the Dark Lord actually was. And more to the point, he might say things about it that the deputy headmistress wouldn't.
Professor Tom Riddle was mercurial that way.
Note: I swear everything will be explained in time. No this is not some weird alternate reality where Tom Riddle isn't Voldemort. There are answers, related to Daphne and the others being unable to recall the name Voldemort itself. Also, I was going to play with Riddle showing up at the end of Daphne's talk with Ginny while still making it seem like it was Snape until the very end, but it was surprisingly difficult to include references to the man without making it obvious that the person assumed to be Snape was actually Riddle. There's only so many ways you can say 'potions professor' or 'old head-of-house. So that bit got dropped. I think it works better this way.
Also, wow, thanks for all the compliments, Darkest. I live to entertain, and one of the things I really, really do strive for is good, realistic but still entertaining conversations and dialogue. Glad to see it's working.