Disclaimer: It is with absolute confidence that I can say that if I had any connection at all with the ownership or creation of Harry Potter, and could therefore buy a skyscraper and fill it from bottom to top with chicken noodle soup (the good stuff, mind you, not the store brand can variety) if I was of a mind to, I would definitely try to explain exactly why Harry supposedly liked Ginny so much, aside from the apparently invigorating prospect of Ron scowling at them for kissing.

Pre-Chapter Note: I've been fighting with my keyboard throughout this entire chapter. It's decided to add an n after I hit the h key. Not all the time, but a little more than half. Just enough to constantly throw me off and make me go back. It's incredibly annoying. I think that I got all of the mistakes that caused, but please let me know if I missed any. Thanks, guys.

Chapter Ten

"Oww, oww, oww." Daphne tried to keep her complaints quiet as she slid her wand along her manufactured forehead scar. It had been fading slightly over the last few weeks as September had gradually given way to early October, which meant she had to renew it. That was such an unpleasant idea that she had put it off almost too long. Hermione had noted the day before that Harry's scar seemed 'pale', and wondered if that meant anything.

Clearly what it meant was that Daphne really needed to buy Hermione a giant book of brainteasers so that she'd stop paying so damn much attention to everything else.

It also meant that Daphne had put off what she had to do for too long. Which was why she was standing in the bathroom after her shower, carefully renewing the scar while trying not to yelp too loudly.

The last few weeks had seemed to pass by with a suddenness that all but made Daphne suspect temporal magic was at work. She played Harry in class, spent her evenings looking for either information about the Sorcerer's Stone or hunting for the pair of men she had heard in the library, and most of her weekends went to studying with Tonks. She had even looked into learning memory charms so that she might understand what had been done to wipe the evil wizard's name from everyone's mind. Unfortunately, the very best she had managed was to erase three seconds of memory. Interesting, but hardly useful, in this case.

One day bled into another, until most of the month was gone.

Apparently she wasn't being quite quiet enough, because Ron's voice came through the bathroom door after another yelp. "Harry? You all right?"

Daphne started to respond, when she noticed something even worse happening out of the corner of her eye. The doorknob was turning. Hadn't she locked it?! After glancing down at her less than prepared self, the girl lunged sideways and bumped bodily up against the door just as it started to open.

"I'm fine." She all but squeaked. "Just, uh, just getting dried off."

Ron's face was at the doorjam, though he couldn't see her behind the door. "You sure you're all right, mate? What's all the complaining about, then?"

Cursing inwardly, Daphne hesitated before answering. "I just stubbed my toe in the shower. No big. Sorry if I woke you up."

"It's all right." Ron gave a wide yawn. "Need to use the loo though, budge over."

Daphne blinked down at herself once more and turned red before coughing. "Uh, no. You'll have to wait a minute. I'm not decent."

"Harry," Ron replied, sounding confused. "C'mon. I grew up in a house with six other boys besides me, and only one bathroom. I really need to go. Kind of an emergency here. You've got nothing I ain't seen before."

Wanna bet? Daphne was absurdly tempted to ask. "Just give me a minute, Ron. Two seconds." She gave a harder shove and forced the door shut.

Ron sounded confused, but acquiesced. "Sure thing, just hurry up, would you? I've gotta go so bad I'm practically brewing my own potion out here."

Sighing in relief, Daphne stepped away from the door and hurriedly got dressed. How had that almost happened? She had locked the door, she was almost certain of it. She always locked the door. It was automatic by this point. She could even picture herself turning as the door closed behind her and giving a flick of her wand with the spell to make it lock. Every single day it happened the same, so what had happened today? Was it possible that she had forgotten?

And if she hadn't, what did that mean?

After giving her forehead a quick once over to make sure the scar was right, Daphne finally opened the door. "It's all-" In mid sentence, Ron rushed past her, making a beeline for the toilet. She moved just as quickly going out as he had coming in, shutting the door behind her while doing her best to utterly ignore any and all sounds coming from within. She might have started singing out loud to mask it if she hadn't been afraid of waking the other boys.

Sighing as she looked out the window and noted that there was still an hour before anyone else was supposed to be up, Daphne reminded herself, not for the first time, that she was doing the right thing. Everyone thought Potter was still alive. They had no idea that the savior of the Wizarding World, the slayer of... of whoever she-should-know-who was, the boy-who-lived... hadn't. She was doing what needed to be done, even if it did lead to situations like that.

By the time Ron emerged from the bathroom, she was already gone.

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"Honestly, if you don't learn to hold your doggy bladder, you're going to get us both expelled." Sophie was complaining to Valefar in a low, quiet voice as she led him back through the halls on the end of his leash. He had woken her up yet again that morning, so early that the sun wasn't up yet. Groggily, she had taken the dog downstairs so that he could do his business.

"And whoever heard of a shy dog, anyway?" The dark-haired Muggle-born wondered quietly as they walked. Ever since she'd gotten Valefar, he'd never just done his business like a normal dog. No, he had to go out of sight behind a bush, and whined if she tried to come closer until he was done.

Wizarding World animals were weird.

"I mean, not that I'm complaining. The digging your own holes and burying your business, that probably makes you one of the best dogs ever. But who taught you that?"

Of course, Valefar didn't answer her. He just kept pulling ahead on the leash, and after a moment of introspection on the subject of her modest pet, Sophie realized that she wasn't where she'd meant to be. "Wait, where did you bring us, dummy?" She looked around. "This is the second floor, we're not even-"

Her words were cut off by the sound of a door opening further down the corridor. Squeaking, Sophie lunged sideways to hide behind a tall suit of armor. She dragged the leash to pull Valefar with her, and then went to one knee.

Voices were coming from down the hall, and Sophie flinched. Regardless of what she had said about this place potentially not being safe, she really didn't want to get into trouble. If she got expelled, there wouldn't be anyone to help Lennon get back from wherever she had accidentally vanished him to

The dog started to growl low, until Sophie closed her hand around his snout. Then he quieted after looking back toward her, like he'd forgotten she was there for a moment.

Sophie could hear two voices. The first voice sounded angry, while the second was contrite.

"The girl will be a problem if anyone pays attention to her."

"No, no she won't. She won't be a problem. She'll be quiet about everything."

"Still, she could become an obstacle. I don't like obstacles. Particularly those that I can so easily remove before they get in my way."

"You have to believe me, she won't cause any trouble. You don't have to hurt anyone else."

"Have to?" There was a low chuckle there that made Sophie shiver and draw herself closer against her dog. Then the voice gave a dismissive sigh. "If you give me cause to doubt your loyalty again..."

"Never." The second voice promised. "I know better. I've been good so far, haven't I?"

"Yes." The first voice sounded contemplative. "So far. But the hard work is just beginning."

The voices had been growing somewhat fainter, and by that point, Sophie lost track of them altogether. Slowly, cautiously, she leaned out from behind the suit of armor, and peered down the corridor. No one was there.

Biting her lip, the young witch took a few steps into the middle of the hall, then stared into the darkness where the voices had disappeared to. "What was that all about?" She asked the dog at her feet.

Valefar tilted his head, seeming to be just as confused as she was. More to the point, he seemed to comprehend his own confusion. If she didn't know better, Sophie would have guessed that he was thinking about what they had heard.

"I'll tell you one thing," she informed the dog. "I'm not an idiot. I'm going straight to Professor McGonagall with this."

"I'd rather you didn't."

The voice made Sophie yelp while Valefar gave a sharp little yip, and she spun around, nearly slipping in the process. She found herself staring at an unexpected face.

"Harry?" She asked in disbelief. The boy was standing there in the middle of the hall, as if he had been there the whole time. "Where the hell did you come from?"

Harry just smiled faintly. Sophie had seen the boy smile that way several times that year, as if he knew something that no one else knew. It wasn't really an arrogant or rude expression so much as a confident one. It was the expression of a magician just before he unveiled a trick that would make the audience gasp.

Valefar, the great traitor that he was, lunged forward and immediately began to sniff at Harry's hand. His tail was wagging and he proceeded to try to jump up and lick Harry's face. Sophie had to pull him down forcibly and hold him. Even then his tail was wagging so much it shook the girl back and forth with each motion. "Oh great, even the wizard animals love Harry Potter blindly and without question."

To that, Harry simply tilted his head and remained silent. Over the past month, Sophie had seen the boy pull that stunt repeatedly, particularly with Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin boy would try to engage Potter in an argument, and Harry would just stare at him silently until the boy gave up and wandered off again.

Realizing after a moment that she wasn't going to get a response to her earlier question by that point, Sophie frowned. "What did you mean, you'd rather I didn't go to Professor McGonagall?" She paused before straightening. "Wait, those voices-"

"Not me." Harry assured her. "But I've heard them before. I'm trying to find out who they are before I tell anybody."

"Who do you think you are, Sherlock Holmes?" Sophie asked while rolling her eyes. He was these people's savior or whatever. Of course he wanted to be the hero again.

Valefar had strained forward enough to sniff Harry's hand again, and the boy gave the dog a scratch before replying absently, "Who?"

Sophie had to blink at that several times, squeezing her eyes shut tighter each time. "What do you mean, who? Sherlock Holmes. Everyone knows who Sherlock Holmes is. I thought you were raised hum- I mean Muggle."

She thought she saw Harry flinch and freeze up for just a second, before the boy blushed and shrugged. His voice was a quiet murmur. "My aunt and uncle didn't really give me much time for anything but work. They hate all magic. Sorry."

Sophie made a face at that. "Wow, okay then. Anyway, I'm pretty sure there's real authorities we can talk to besides 'some kid who accidentally killed an evil wizard a decade ago while he was a baby'. Really, the wizarding world has got to have a deeper law enforcement bench than that."

Chuckling, Harry nodded. "Sure, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They've got Aurors and Hit Wizards-"

Sophie interrupted. "Excuse me? The good guys are called Hit Wizards? Are you serious?"

Valefar gave a soft, distracting bark at that. It almost sounded like a chuckle.

Glancing toward the dog and then back again, the young witch gestured. "See? Even he thinks that sounds stupid. What do they call their medical wizards, 'Bleedy Bleedy McPainbringers?'"

That brought on a real laugh from Harry, who shrugged. "I didn't pick the name."

Shaking her head slowly, Sophie relinquished her hold on Valefar, who was straining hard against her. As soon as she did, the dog shoved right up against Harry and bounced up to lick his face.

"Jeeze!" Pulling her dog down once more, the girl shook her head. "I'm sorry, he's usually not this aggressive. Though... at least it's aggressive nice and not aggressive mean. He really, really likes you. Are you that good with dogs?"

Harry just shrugged. "Dunno, never spent much time around them."

Eying the boy uncertainly, Sophie lifted her chin. "Anyway, you were going to tell me why I shouldn't go straight to Professor McGonagall."

"Well think about it." Harry replied, crouching next to the dog to pet him so that he'd stop pulling against Sophie's hold. "No one remembers who the big bad evil wizard is, right?"

Slowly, she nodded. "Uh huh."

"But I remember knowing the name while we were on the train." Harry continued, turning his face to the side so that he could talk while Valefar happily licked him.

"What's your point?" Sophie asked, folding her arms across her chest after giving up on holding the dog at all.

Harry looked up from his crouched position, peering at her through his glasses. "My point, is that the train going off the rails and into the lake has to have something to do with why we can't remember then bad guy's name anymore. They're connected. I don't know how they're connected yet, but somehow."

"Even if I give you that." Sophie pressed. "Even if I believe that little leap, what does that have to do with not telling McGonagall?"

"Simple. If we don't remember who is the bad guy, then we can't remember who isn't the bad guy. Which means that the bad guy, or bad woman since I can't even remember for certain that 'you-know-who' is definitely male, could be someone teaching here."

Sophie's mouth fell open and she stared at the boy. "You're insane. You're crazy. There's no way the Hitler of Wizards is hiding out in a school, pretending to be a normal teacher."

"Why else remove all our memories about who they are?" Harry pointed out. "Right as we get to the school, poof, no more bad guy memories. If they can remove all our memories of who they are, do you really think it's that much of a stretch that they could add memories about a teacher that we've never had before? Or change details about that teacher? What if last year, McGonagall was a young blonde witch? Or what if Professor Flitwick was tall?"

"It could be one of the new teachers, like Professor Bill." Sophie continued the thought before flinching. She really, really didn't want it to be Professor Bill. He was nice to her. "Or Professor Lockhart." She liked that idea better.

"He might be faking the incompetence." Harry allowed.

Sophie considered before shaking her head. "No one's that good at being incompetent unless it's a full time endeavor. No one can put the sheer number of hours that guy puts into being buffoon, without going pro-Bozo."

"Pro-Bozo?" Harry echoed with what sounded like a snicker.

She shrugged. "Fully Licensed Nitwit?"

This time, Sophie was certain that Harry had laughed, as much as the boy tried to hide it. After a moment, he straightened. "It could be anybody. That's why I need to find out who those two voices are. If I can track them down, then maybe I can find out who we can't trust at the school, and that should tell us who we can trust."

"Dumbledore." Sophie said flatly. "There's no way it's him. If Dumbledore was evil, we'd all be dead or slaves or whatever."

Harry nodded at that. "Probably. But who could say what measures they have against Dumbledore? They've taken away his memory, so if we tell him, what's he going to do about it? We need to know who to point him toward."

Squinting, Sophie's head shook. "What do you mean, 'we'?"

"I could use some help with this." Harry admitted. "I've been trying to find those guys for a month now, no luck. An extra pair of hands and eyes would help."

"No." Sophie kept her arms folded tight against her chest. "No way. That's too dangerous. I'm trying to stay alive and out of trouble. There's... reasons. I can't go get killed by an evil wizard for snooping into their business."

Harry shrugged. "Do you think you're any less likely to die if the evil wizard gets to keep doing whatever they want around here? Whatever their plan is, I doubt it includes rainbows and lollies for anyone who minded their own business."

Sighing heavily, Sophie frowned at the floor. She shifted from foot to foot, considering and reconsidering. Finally, she looked up again. "Fine, I won't tell anyone until you find out more information. But I'm still not sure I want to get involved more than that. It's still dangerous. I'm not... I'm not trying to be a coward. This is about more than just me."

Nodding slowly, Harry seemed to accept that. "Just think about helping, would you? Give it some thought. And for now, could you tell me what you heard? It might help."

Thinking about the girl that the voices had been discussing, Sophie nodded. "I'll tell you what I heard."

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"There I was, so close to the dragon's mouth, that with each slow, steady breath that it took, I could smell the blood of the dozen poor, brave wizards it had killed and eaten to escape its confinement." Lockhart (Daphne steadfastly refused to add the title 'Professor' in front of the dimwit even within her own head) half crouched over, illustrating the way he had supposedly snuck up on a slumbering dragon.

Hermione's hand shot into the air, because of course it did. "But sir, weren't you afraid?"

"Aha!" Lockhart gave that brilliant, blinding smile that Daphne swore had to be magically enhanced somehow. "Indeed, most people would have been. And after all, who could blame them? The Hungarian Horntail is the single most dangerous and deadly dragon in the world. Yes, most wizards would faint at the very sight of the great beast."

"But some of us," The man went on, straightening proudly as he raised his hand with the wand. "Some of us have a greater calling. We know that it is our duty, nay, our solemn vow, to protect those who cannot protect themselves." He winked at 'Harry'. "Isn't that right, my boy?"

Oh great, now everyone was looking at 'him'. Daphne suppressed the scowl that tried to blossom and made herself shrug. "I guess." She muttered the words, hoping the man would move on.

Instead, Lockhart strode that way. "Yes, indeed, there are those of us who bear the great and wondrous burden of standing between our magical brothers and sisters, and the enormous void of evil that threatens to wash all wizardkind into the bowels of history. Those very few of us who can point to the darkness, and declare," The man's voice turned to a powerful bellow that all but shook the room on the last word. "Begone!"

At least half of the girls in the class gave a happy, tingling little sigh of adoration, and Daphne immediately (and not for the first time that year) felt immensely betrayed by her own gender.

Still smiling, Lockhart stopped next to 'Harry's' desk. "It is a powerful burden, but one that people like myself and of course, Mr. Potter to a slightly lesser extent, bear proudly and willingly. We work diligently, facing the evil that would drown this world, so that no one else need suffer." This was followed by a conspiratorial wink. "Of course, we all know that Harry here needs a few more years to grow into his role." His hand came down to squeeze Daphne's shoulder. "But under my tutelage, we'll soon have a savior quite nearly as good as the man who defeated the Seven Warlocks of Worcester while armed with only a single bottle of polyjuice and a handful of salamander eggs. Now who was that..."

Again, Hermione's hand was in the air. "That was you, Professor."

"Right you are, Miss Granger!" Lockhart gave them another twinkling grin while pointing dramatically toward the girl in question. "Ten points to Gryffindor for reading Marauding With Monsters."

Daphne considered pointing out that it was hardly a stretch to figure out who he had been talking about, even without reading that useless pack of lies, but assumed such logic would fly right in one of the man's ears and out the other as easily as the wind that clearly whistled between them consistently.

Once the intermixed sighs of adoration and annoyance had calmed down, Lockhart waved a hand dismissively. "Of course, just because not everyone can share the bravery and cunning exhibited by people like myself and Harry here, doesn't mean that everyone else is useless. Not in the slightest, and shame on anyone who thinks so little of those brave wizards and witches who stand behind their champions. Every good house needs a foundation, and every true hero needs people supporting him."

"Alas, tragically, my own supporting friends and allies have... fallen in the course of my efforts to keep our world free of the vile menaces that plague our lives." Lockhart lamented for a moment before giving the class a broad, knowing smile. "But that is, of course, why I'm here now. Because a hero as up and coming as Mr. Potter will need allies. Every true champion needs people he can depend on. And who better to find those powerful allies than someone like myself?"

Anyone? Daphne thought to herself. No, really, absolutely anyone? Is Filch busy? Did anyone find out if the giant squid had an opinion?

"Of course, no one." Lockhart continued while nodding sagely. "That's why I've decided to help Harry here be the very best hero he can possibly be... by having a contest! We will determine who among your classmates could possibly be Harry Potter's good right hand by having a dueling contest. Whichever of you comes the closest to defeating the boy who destroyed... uhh, whoever he destroyed, will serve as Harry's closest confidant and ally in the war ahead." The man beamed at this announcement, thoroughly ignoring every single stare of disbelief and annoyance.

Suffering under more than 'his' own share of glares, as if it had been in any way 'his' idea, Daphne swore to herself that she was going to kill this idiot someday.

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Unfortunately, 'someday' didn't end up being that day, and several hours later, Daphne found herself stuck in some long, narrow room that Lockhart had procured for this stupid dueling contest. She wanted to get to work figuring out who the girl was that Sophie had heard the two shadowy men talking about, but instead, she was trapped in this farce.

There was a long stage in the middle of the room, where the combatants were clearly supposed to engage one another, while the audience gathered on either side. At the moment, Lockhart was in the middle of the stage, blabbering on about past duels he'd supposedly had and how this reminded him of the time he'd defeated so and so with the whatever. All the students from their grade were there, regardless of House, and even some people from other grades, like the Weasley twins.

'Harry' was stuck on the stage as well, trying in vain to hide. She wasn't sure any of this was safe, but at least Professor Flitwick had shown up as well, to keep an eye on what was going on. The diminutive teacher didn't look any happier than she did about this contest, yet he didn't put a stop to it. Maybe he'd already tried.

The bad part was that she couldn't even lose on purpose to get this over with, because that would undermine the entire point she'd had in pretending to be Harry in the first place. If 'Harry Potter' lost too badly to another student in 'his' own year group, no one was going to have confidence that 'he' could defeat a real threat.

Still, she hated this entire thing. Especially since there were certain stupid students who were convinced that 'Harry' had had something to do with setting this whole bit of idiocy up. There was not one iota of enjoyment that she could possibly get out of this entire scenario. There wasn't a single-

"Hermione Granger!" Lockhart announced proudly. "You have the highest score in the class, so you get to challenge Harry first. Come on up here."

On the other hand...

Maybe beating the smug little know-it-all wouldn't be that bad, especially when 'he' could clearly point out that 'he' had no choice but to try.

Hermione seemed reluctant as she slowly stepped up on the stage, clearly torn between her loyalty to her friends, and her intense desire to obey a teacher's rules.

"Good good good." Lockhart seemed delighted as he looked between them. "This is just perfect, don't you think, Filius?"

Professor Flitwick, who had joined them on the stage by then, pointedly ignored the other man. Instead, he addressed Hermione and 'Harry'. "Now remember, spells keep going until one of you creates a situation in which your opponent cannot fight back before you could conceivably destroy or imprison them. Doing so earns one point. First to three points wins the match."

After both of them acknowledged this, Flitwick sent them to opposite ends of the stage, gave Lockhart a doubtful look, and then hopped down.

Heedless, Lockhart stepped to the judge's corner and lifted his hand. "First match... begin!"

Daphne's transfigured wand was outstretched, the Stupefy spell leaving as quickly as she had ever done it. Even faster than when she had knocked Draco head over heels. She felt confident, right up until the spell rebounded off of the shield that Hermione had completely inexplicably already managed to erect.

The spell bounced, and all Daphne could do was stare briefly, taken by surprise, before Hermione countered with a rapid Expelliarmus, Stupefy combo that knocked the wand from 'Harry's' hand and then knocked her sprawling along the stage, dazed and disoriented, with black spots peeking in over her vision.

"Mr. Potter." Flitwick was kneeling next to her, putting a hand on 'Harry's' shoulder. "Are you quite all right, Mr. Potter?"

"Mmmfine." Daphne rolled over and sat up, blinking the black spots away. She stared briefly at Hermione.

"Sorry, Harry!" The girl waved her hand, looking equal parts embarrassed and proud. She was clearly happy that she'd taken 'Harry Potter' by surprise and gotten 'him' down, yet also upset about that very same fact.

Meanwhile, the other students looked a bit torn as well. There had been some applause for Hermione, mainly from the girls, while others were still simply murmuring in confusion.

Picking herself up, Daphne accepted her wand back from Professor Flitwick. "Thank you, sir." She took a moment to get her breath, then resumed her ready position. This time, she wouldn't let Hermione catch her off guard.

And yet, roughly fifteen seconds later, Hermione was still standing while 'Harry' had to have the Jelly-Legs Jinx undone and 'his' wand retrieved once again.

Okay, so maybe Hermione Granger was more than a conceited teacher's pet. She was still a know-it-all, albeit one with good intentions, but she was definitely powerful as well. The obscenely high marks that she received in every class were from more than just the memorization the other girl perfected. Hermione was powerful.

The other students, by that point, were torn between laughing and staring at 'Harry' as though 'he' was somehow letting them down. Even Draco Malfoy, surrounded by his entourage, looked like his head was about to explode from trying to decide if he was happy that 'Harry Potter' had been knocked on 'his' backside twice, or furious that a Muggle-born was the one doing the repeated knocking. From what Daphne had seen, Malfoy hated both Harry and Hermione equally, so trying to figure out if he should be pleased or upset about this left the boy looking vaguely constipated.

Obviously, Daphne was going about this the wrong way. She should have realized it straight off, but a certain obsessive stubbornness about beating Hermione Granger had blinded her. The fact was,throughout her extra studies with Tonks, the two of them had come to the conclusion that 'Harry' was never going to be amazing at stand-up, one on one dueling. One wizard fighting another wizard with rules in place, each taking turns firing spells straight at the other was not where Daphne excelled.

No, where she excelled was in cheap tricks, fighting unfairly, and winning before the other person knew there was a fight.

So to hell with this fighting fair garbage. Daphne dusted herself off one more time, ignored the few jeers from certain students, and straightened. She held her wand in one hand, rolling it between two fingers as she waited for Lockhart to give the go-ahead.

"This could be it!" The so-called 'Professor' announced, seeming to be beside himself with giddiness. "Will young Hermione Granger score an amazing three straight round upset over the heroic Harry Potter? Let's see! Begin!"

This time, rather than attack first as she had twice before, Daphne extended her wand and used the shield spell.

And yet, the tell-tale glowing energy that should have appeared in front of 'Harry' as 'he' cast the shield spell didn't. She resisted the urge to smirk when Hermione was left looking briefly confused. Rather than give her opponent a chance to realize what had happened, Daphne sent a stunning spell that direction.

Of course, Hermione quickly created her own glowing shield spell to protect herself. Unfortunately for then brainiac, 'Harry' hadn't been aiming at her at all. Instead, Daphne hand shot then stunner past Hermione, and directly into the shielding spell several feet behind the girl, where Daphne had conjured it moments ago rather than in front of herself when she had cast the protection spell.

The stunner rebounded off of the shield that Daphne had created, straight into Hermione's unprotected back. This time, she was the one who went sprawling, and Daphne had to remind herself not to smile too much. She even moved to be the one to help the girl to her feet. "You all right?"

Hermione gave a quick nod, staring a bit at 'Harry' before stepping away to take her place again.

This time, when then match began, Hermione paid more attention to what was behind her. Daphne was ready for that. She made a motion as though 'he' was about to repeat the same trick. When Hermione twisted around to disable the shield she thought was going to appear behind her, Daphne instead sent a completely different spell toward the floor.

The choice of spell was clearly confusing, at least at first. Rather than a combat spell, 'Harry' had chosen a cleaning spell. Specifically, 'he' used a spell that scoured and shined the floor. Daphne hand learned it years ago by paying attention to her mother just before a big dinner party.

Every time her mother had used the spell, Daphne and her little sister Astoria had been banished from the room in question, not only to keep it clean, but because for roughly an hour after the spell was used, the surfaces that it scoured were incredibly slippery, and their mother didn't want them to fall and hurt themselves.

Not that that had entirely kept Daphne and Astoria away. The prospect of sliding all over the room was too much fun. They'd learned how to slide without falling, mostly.

Hermione, on the other hand, had no such practice. She didn't even know what happened. As the brainiac turned back toward 'Harry', her foot came down on the magically waxed floor, and immediately went out from under her. The girl fell onto her side with a squeal, dropping her wand in the process as she went sprawling.

This time, while Professor Flitwick checked on Hermione, Daphne turned her own attention to elsewhere. She turned away and hunched over to hide what she was doing, straightening and turning back only when the other girl had resumed her position.

"You okay, Hermione?" She called to the other girl.

Wincing a little as she adjusted her stance, Hermione gave 'Harry' a nod. "I'm fine, Harry." She sounded a bit embarrassed, but not too bad.

"Now we have a match!" Lockhart was positively giddy at this point. The man was all but bouncing as he waited a moment for them to be ready. "One more match. Two points to two points. Will the young wizard savior pull out a from-behind victory, or will the underdog Muggle-born Hermione Granger win? And if she does, what does that mean for the legend of Harry Potter, to be beaten in the first match?"

He was so not helping.

Not only was the annoying man pointing out to everyone that if 'Harry' lost, it damaged 'his' credibility as the boy who had defeated one of the greatest evils they had ever known, but he was also drawing a line between the students themselves, making the Muggle-borns or their friends think that Hermione winning would prove something for them, and therefore drawing them up against 'Harry'. The Muggle-borns, that was, except for Sophia, who was standing out of the way while looking rather annoyed at the entire process.

Still, Daphne readied herself. She waited for the go-ahead to start. The second the signal came, she extended her hand in a slightly exaggerated preparation for the stunning spell, putting her hand out just a bit further than she needed to.

Hermione took the bait, immediately launching a disarm spell straight at 'Harry's' outstretched hand. The spell collided with the wood and sent it flying away.

Daphne let it go. While the reactions started to come, she dropped to one knee and extended her left hand this time. The little point of her real wand between her fingers aimed at Hermione, while most of the wand remained hidden up her sleeve.

The girl was taken by surprise. She tried to put a shield spell up at the last second, but Daphne's own disarm spell got through, knocking the wand from Hermione's hand.

And that was the match. Professor Flitwick all but materialized next to 'him'. "Using a second wand isn't very fair, Mr. Potter."

Daphne shook her head, crouching to pick up the item in question. "It wasn't another wand, Professor. While Hermione was getting up that last time, I transfigured a coin from my pocket to look like a wand, so that she'd think she won once she knocked it out of my hand."

Raising a bushy eyebrow, Flitwick gave the fake wand a prod with his own, before beaming when it turned into a sickle. "Very good, Mr. Potter! Thinking outside the box. I'm not sure that judges in a real tournament would accept your tactics, but as they weren't specifically forbidden here, I'll just say congratulations."

"Thank you, sir." Daphne muttered before going to check on Hermione. Unfortunately, before she could get very far, Lockheart tried to announce the second match.

She needed a break. Rather than attempt to use logic on Lockhart, Daphne focused on Professor Flitwick. "Sir, doesn't it make more sense to let everyone else face each other and get down to the top few challengers, instead of making me face everyone at once?"

The older wizard gave a quick, enthusiastic nod. "Of course it does. Making a single wizard face challenge after challenge is grossly unfair. You check on your friend, I'll take care of this. If Professor Lockhart wants to do a real second year championship, he can schedule the match for another night."

Giving the Professor a thankful smile, Daphne started to go off the stage. The second she stepped onto the floor, there were people trying to congratulate 'Harry', shaking 'his' hand, slapping 'him' on the back, or just trying to get nearby while shouting their own play-by-play interpretations of the match into 'Harry's' ear. Daphne pushed through the group to check on Hermione and Ron, as the real Harry would have.

Before she could get very far, however, two taller bodies moved up on either side of her. She looked both ways in time to see the Weasley twins before each of them linked an arm with 'Harry' and lifted 'him' off the ground.

"Don't mind if we borrow you for a moment, do you, Harry?" Fred asked.

"Sure he doesn't." George answered for 'him'. "Harry's a right helpful little lad, aren't you?"

"This should just take a second." Both of the boys announced together, while bodily carrying 'Harry' out a side door and away from the others.

Before long, Daphne found herself deposited back onto her feet in an empty side corridor. "Uh, what do you guys need?" She asked, trying to get her bearings again.

"Those tactics you used," Fred began before tutting a little. "Some would say it's not very Gryffindor of you to be so sneaky."

"I won, didn't I?" Daphne couldn't keep all of the defensiveness out of her voice.

"Sure did." George nodded. "You won. Maybe not fair and definitely not square, but you won."

Fred added then, "But you know, some people might say those were more... underhanded tactics than Gryffindors usually use."

"You guys trick people all the time." Daphne pointed out. "You always use underhanded pranks."

"Didn't say we were any of those people." George replied with a grin. "Just that they existed."

"Still," Fred pressed. "It was kind of... Slytherin of you."

Suddenly anxious, Daphne shrugged and started to move around them. "I really need to check on Hermione."

They stepped into her path. "Sure, sure." Both twins intoned.

"But first, we need you to do one thing for us." George informed her.

"What's that?" Daphne asked, looking from one boy to the other.

"See," Fred explained. "This morning, Ron told us that you were acting weird. Weirder than usual."

George went on. "He was worried about you. So, being the bestest best brothers that we are, we decided to check on you."

Frowning uncertainly, Daphne shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't see you anywhere. But what do you need from me?"

Fred produced something from behind his back and held it up to her. "Simple enough, we just need you to look at our little magic map..."

He held it up in front of her face, and Daphne could see the various rooms and corridors displayed in exacting detail, along with little dots that showed where people were. Those dots were labeled with names, and where Fred's finger was, she could see three dots in a small, out of the way corridor. The dots were labeled Fred and George Weasley... and Daphne Greengrass.

"... and explain why it says you're not Harry Potter." Fred and George finished together.