A/N: Thanks to my fantastic guest beta for this chapter, HP-DG-SB-NR-AG-HA-TD-KB-RR-AJ, for betaing this chapter and keeping me company the last few days.
Thank you to everyone that reviewed, alerted and favourite this story, seeing as we are up to 800 followers. I am honoured and astounded. I keep telling my mother, and she keeps laughing at me.
This chapter is admittedly long, and the next two chapters will also be long. It's to make up for the previous short-ish chapters.
Also, for those who didn't read the summary, this is rated M for several reasons, and one of them is lemons. This isn't exactly a lemon, but it has a lime (?) scene in it.
Chapter 8: Mr Know-it-all
Daphne was running. Now – it sometimes felt like she spent her life running. Normally it was away from something or someone, whether someone she trusted or feared. It was also normally her father.
But this was different. She was running towards something. She was running towards someone – Harry Potter. If you told her a year ago that she would develop feelings towards the famed boy-who-lived, she would tell you to go screw yourself.
On the same note: if you told the blonde girl that she would be free from Oscar's tyranny, she would tell you to stop dreaming and then demand what you knew of his autocracy with a wand pointed at your neck.
She was smiling too. It wasn't a smile she had been trained to keep in place over the years. It was a real one.
"Gosh, Daph, it's only been an hour!" He laughed, catching her in his arms. She pulled back -to see the smile she loved. She loved the feeling of being around him.
"I know, but I have always wanted to run up to someone and hug them," She said, "Wasn't as fun as I thought it would be, but I did come to some very strange realisations."
"Oh yeah?" He asked as they fell into step next to one another. Daphne had gone shopping for a few clothing items she needed, and Harry had gone to the sporting shop. He couldn't believe that the wizarding world only had one sport, and, as it turned out, they didn't. Quidditch was simply the most popular sport, but there was also a variation of tennis and cricket.
The wizarding tennis included four wizards (or witches) with racquets passing a bludger around whilst avoiding getting hit by a net. Two substitutes were around for in case someone got hit with a net. It was basically a game of two on two beaters with nets, as Harry later decided, but it could be fun.
The cricket, though, sounded a lot more fun. It had ten players on a team – a lot fairer than just the seven on Quidditch teams – and, in this variation, two players were handed bats and two were handed balls. The balls were made from dragon nails. The balls were thrown at the same time, and the batters had to guess where the balls were coming from. But that was just two players on a team, what about the others?
Well, three were locked in a perpetual game of tag, as it were, and they needed to stop running when the ball was still, but when it was in the air they had to keep running. Maybe it was a better named as red-light-green-light. But they ran around the batter.
Another three were called interceptors and they had to try and stop the ball mid-air. If an interceptor got your ball, you lost points. And who distracted the interceptors?
That was the job of the remaining two players – they were called distractors, and they had to resort to various forms of trickery to do so.
It sounded like a lot more fun than dodging bludgers.
"Harry?" Daphne snapped her fingers in front of his face. He shook his head and looked at her.
"Sorry? I was distracted. I didn't know there were more sports in the wizarding world." Harry admitted. Daphne rolled her eyes at him. "What were you saying?"
"I was asking if you wanted ice cream, and expressing my hopes that you would take of the Glamour charm, I like your normal face much better than this." She waved her hand over his face, and he lifted his wand and muttered the counter-curse. Luckily they were in Diagon Alley, albeit disguised, though he figured they had to go before anyone recognised them.
"You know, you should start focusing on non-verbal spells," She said thoughtfully, "It's usually in the sixth year Defence classes that the professors start hammering on it. Not many of the kids in my year got it right with Umbridge as our professor, but Professor Snape helped us. I think you need to fix whatever problems you have with him, by the way."
"Yes, I had the idea to confront him about the crap he dishes out to me," He said, "But I love the idea of doing spells without actually saying them out loud. I'm up to date with a lot of the curses you taught me, so I reckon we can begin tonight."
"What about other household curses we can use in combat?" Daphne said, "Like the entrails-expelling curse."
"How is that not a dark curse?" Harry winced – that spell couldn't be pleasant at all. It certainly didn't sound pleasant.
"Hunters use it," Daphne said matter-of-factly, "And cooks, I'm sure the house elves at Hogwarts use it too."
"Fair point," Harry inclined his head, "But using that in a duel is similar to casting the killing curse."
"Only it adds a smidge of pain," Daphne added, "I think Cyrus would absolutely love that spell, as a matter of fact."
"Yes, I reckon so too, seeing as he asked me if he could have your father's eyeball," Harry was trying hard to keep his laughter in, "But it has some sort of sentimental value."
"You're secretly incredibly evil, aren't you?" She asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She didn't know what to make of this side of Harry, this slightly dark side of him. It was twisted, but she had a twisted side herself, so she couldn't judge him.
"Possibly," He teased her, taking her hand, "Can I apparate us home?"
"Wait – I just want to make sure I have enough Dittany on me…" She started, fussing around her purse, but stopped when she saw his nervous expression. She smiled at him confidently, "You can do this, Harry, you've got what it takes."
He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, drew her closer and concentrated on the top step just outside Grimmauld Place before turning on the spot. He felt the familiar, though not necessarily pleasant, feeling of being pushed through a tight tube and the pulling feeling just behind his naval.
Harry opened his eyes when he heard Daphne's delighted squeal, "You did it, Harry! I knew you could!" She planted a kiss on his cheek before dancing to the inside. He followed her, highly amused at her reaction.
He flipped through his homework assignments – they were all done. Though he hadn't bothered with Divination, he was dropping that anyways. Trelawney would be devastated at having to find someone new to terrorise with her daily predications of doom. Harry vaguely wondered if Ron would make his Divination OWL. Then he wondered when his OWL results would get there, and then he figured that it would go to Ron's family, seeing as they were what he considered to be his family.
He guessed he'd pass in Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Defence, Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures, though he figured that his Divination and History of Magic would be dismal at best.
"Hey, Daphne?" He called to her as he hung his cloak up, "How do I know when I pass my OWLs?" He made his way to the kitchen, where she was asking Dobby for ice cream.
"Oh, that's easy: you get an O for Outstanding, E for Exceeds Expectations, A for Acceptable – those mean you passed. Then there is P for Poor, D for Dreadful and T for Troll." She explained, and Harry sniggered, that last one sounded like a joke. Daphne glared at his laugh. "What is it?"
"T for Troll?" He laughed again, "You cannot be serious."
"I am," Daphne said, affronted, "Why would I make a joke about that?"
"Maybe because the O isn't a U for Unicorn and the E isn't a G for Giant," Harry replied, "I didn't know the Ministry of Magic measured intelligence by referring to Mythical Creatures."
"Harry – there are many smart mythical creatures out there: unicorns, phoenixes, some species of elves, dragons, centaurs… the list never ends. But there is just one incredibly stupid mythical being out there that can be classified as utterly stupid: a troll." She used her hands a lot when she explained something, and she saw Harry's eyes follow her hands briefly before he returned his gaze to her face.
"And some students do so poorly that they classify as a troll?" Harry asked. She could see that the whole situation was still awfully amusing to him.
"It's just some individuals who don't bother to study for something or are just that stupid. I'm sorry, but not everyone can be good at everything." She shrugged, settling down at the one end of the table. Harry sat down opposite her, pouring himself some tea.
"What if they fall asleep during an exam?" Harry thought of his History of Magic test, the evening before that exam he hadn't slept much, they had been discussing Hagrid's attempted apprehension by Umbridge and he had been forced to wake up earlier that morning to study. That didn't do him well either, because he did fall asleep and he did get the dreams about Sirius in the Ministry.
"Then they're likely to get a T as well, if the student didn't manage to finish the written exam first," She answered, "And if you hate a subject, it's perfectly understandable to fail on purpose."
"Hermione would never stand for that," Harry said, "She'll probably get O's for everything. What did you get?"
"I got O's for Transfiguration, Potions and Charms, E's for Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, and A for Astronomy and a D for History of Magic. I hated History of Magic, so I tried to fail, but I didn't want to get a T." She had dropped Herbology and Astronomy after that. She didn't think Professor Hagrid was a bad teacher, he was actually good, but he could be better, and she would convince him of that.
"You're really clever, aren't you?" He contemplated, "You know you're going to tutor me, don't you?"
"Of course I am; I'm going to teach you things from my year too, because you're smarter than you give yourself credit for." She said firmly. She was hell-bent on restoring his self-esteem.
. . .
"To be able to do a non-verbal spell, you must push everything aside: emotions. If you can't do this, you are weak." She said bluntly. They were in what was once the dining hall, but the table and chairs were pushed up against the wall, with the two facing one another.
"Is this almost like Occlumency?" He asked, "Because I was pants at that."
"I can't believe you just used that phrase," Daphne laughed, then she paused, "Wait, when did you practice Occlumency?"
"Last year with Snape, it didn't end well." Though that must be an understatement, she thought, when she considered his expression and his history with Snape.
"Well, maybe we'll tackle that too," She shrugged, "Seeing as the exercises are mostly the same. One branch of magic hides your thoughts and the other forces your thought into action. So, first, you must -"
"Empty my mind," Harry cut across her, "Yes, I know, but that's not very easy for me."
Daphne puckered her lips in thoughts for a while in thought, before her eyes widened and her tiny body was brought to the balls of her feet.
"What was the saddest you've ever been?" She asked. She saw him wince and was immediately sorry. He probably had a long list to choose from.
"Sirius," Harry mumbled, "When he died… I… I don't know. I mean, I've seen a lot of things, but that… I mean, I've never had a parent or siblings, and then… Sirius was like a brother to me, like a father, and then he was taken from me…"
Daphne threw her arms around him. He sounded so heartbroken, that she just wanted to hug him and ascertain him that it would be all right, but she couldn't make a promise she couldn't keep.
"You were numb," She guessed when she stood back, keeping her tone formal, "What did Snape tell you?"
"To empty myself of all emotions; to stop wallowing in my sadness and allow myself to be provoked into action by my anger." Harry answered, remembering the session very well.
"He's not wrong," Daphne said, "But he's not entirely right either. I would recommend you use your sadness – that pain that causes numbness?" Harry nodded, "I suggest you use that numbness, because it automatically means that your mind is empty."
That was how she experienced it. Only she wallowed in her anger rather than her sadness, but it numbed her nonetheless. At the end of the day she could just numb herself without the need for anger.
"So you want me to bring the sadness to the surface?" He was confused.
"No," She shook her head, "No, I want you to take that sadness and let it boil. Then let it take over until you're numb."
"I don't…" He started, and she held up a hand for silence.
"I know it's hard to bring those emotions to the surface, but you have to, Harry. I'm going to leave for thirty minutes, and I want you to delve into your emotions. You are a Gryffindor, Harry, it should be easier for you," She said, keeping her voice firm, "You're not a fool for wearing your heart on your sleeve, Harry, it makes you who you are, but you need to control your emotions in order to do this," She put a hand on his cheek, "You're so strong, Harry." She let her hand fall before she walked away, sparing one last glance at him, shutting the door behind her.
She knew what she was asking him to do was hard, nor was it fair, but she guessed that he needed some time to work through his grief if his incident earlier the summer was anything to go by, and that this would work for him somewhat.
Or at least she hoped it would.
She called Kreacher, who was under no oath or order to follow her commands, and he popped up beside her. She was a bit curious about him.
"Yes, Miss Daphne?" Kreacher said politely, "Is Miss needing anything?"
"No, not at all, but I do have a few questions for you," She said, "Would you care to talk to me?"
"If Miss Daphne would go to the kitchen, Kreacher will answer." He nodded, his ears flopping forwards, before he popped off, presumably to the kitchen.
"Why are you so kind?" She asked when she entered the kitchen, "As I gathered from Weasley and Granger's reactions towards you, you weren't always this way."
"Master Harry is kind to Kreacher," Kreacher said, "He wasn't when he first met Kreacher, but he is now, and that is why Kreacher obeys him. Master Harry saw what he did wrong and changed it."
"And his friends?"
"Master Harry ordered Kreacher to be tolerant," His deep voice reverberated around them, "But the mudblood is not too bad, and Kreacher's mistress would turn in her grave if she heard Kreacher say that."
"And me?" She asked, "Why are you kind to me?"
"Miss Daphne is Master Harry's house guest," Kreacher offered her a smile, "And Miss Daphne is kind to Kreacher. Kreacher feels it is only right to return the favour."
The blonde smiled to herself. She had always believed in treating other creatures kindly, even trolls, and she wasn't fond of those creatures. They smelled like the inside of an uncleaned toilet.
She sat down and drew a muggle magazine that Harry bought closer. It was somewhat fascinating, though she found the muggle fashion a bit ludicrous – no one in their right mind would mix those colours.
When thirty minutes passed she returned to the dining hall. Harry had taken a chair from the wall and sat down on it. He looked up when she entered. His face was slack.
"I'm ready," He said; she nodded and drew her wand. He didn't betray any emotion.
"You remember what Snape taught you?" She asked, keeping her tone low, "Now try and block me, throw me off, hex me – I don't care what you do, just stop me. Legilimens!"
Two dementors were there, it was Harry and Dudley, and Harry yelling at his obese cousin to run… A large woman was laughing at Harry, teasing him, and then she was blowing up… a long hallway and a door at the end, a door that never gets closer…
"Expelliarmus!" Harry screamed, and she was blasted backwards. Her fall was soft, and she guessed Harry had cast a cushioning charm, and that his disarming curse was way too strong for her to handle.
"That was excellent!" She exclaimed, "Just excellent, Harry!"
"Again." Harry said roughly, ignoring her praise. His face was still void of emotion. It would worry her, but she suspected it was hard for Harry to push his emotions aside.
She found her wand, took a stance, and flicked her wand again.
Sirius Black was laughing… Granger planted a kiss on Harry's cheek… Weasley and Harry were playing chess… Harry saving Ron from the mermaids...
"STOP!" Harry yelled, and she was ripped from his mind quite violently. She fell to her knees – his voice was echoing inside her head and she felt the beginning of a massive headache, there were also stars in front of her eyes.
"That was good," She said, "Very good. Yell at people more often when they try to invade your mind, it works better." She set her wand down next to her and rubbed her temples.
"What did I do?" Harry was next to her, his hand on her back, "Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine," She gulped, blinking rapidly; those stars didn't seem to be going away. "You're doing really well… better than expected… Can I have some water?"
Harry summoned a cup, cast his wand into it and cast Aguamenti into it. She gulped down the icy water, and then the stars started to disappear, though the headache remained.
"How did you do that?" She asked.
"I just didn't want you in my mind?" Harry shrugged, helping her to her feet. She shook her head.
"Not that. How did you do Aguamenti? I haven't taught you that and it's in the sixth year curriculum."
"I… don't know," He said, "I didn't realise I'd done it…"
"Well, now you have one charm under the knee," She said softly, her mind whirring, "But I think I need to lie down. You won this round, Potter. We can go on tomorrow."
He put an arm around her shoulders and guided her to the door.
"I can see, Harry," She said when she was on the first step, "And walk on my own. I just need to lie down for a moment. Ask Kreacher for a Pepper-Up potion, will you?"
Harry was a step below her and she saw emotion on his face again; he was nervous. He also wanted to ask something, and he didn't think that it would be appropriate at the particular moment. She rolled her eyes.
"What is it, Harry?" She demanded, "Spit it out."
"Can I take you out on a date?" He lifted his eyes to meet her, "A proper date."
She felt heat rise into her face. Why was she blushing? She hardly ever blushed! Lately she did it a bit more than she was used to.
"Of course, Harry," She smiled at him, "Tonight?"
"If you're up for it." He said, looking at his shoes. She put a hand under his chin and forced him to look at her.
"Harry, I'd be lucky if you took any interest in me," She brought her face closer to his, "You're a great person, handsome too." She kissed him softly. "Now get me that potion and we're on for tonight."
He smiled that smile at her before he rushed down the hallway. She made her way to the bedroom they shared and fell onto the nearest bed. She wasn't sure whose bed it was, though. She turned herself around and stared at the ceiling. Kreacher must've repainted it, because the paint looked brand new.
She closed her eyes. She was growing more than simply quite fond of her host, she knew that, and it didn't scare her. She had been utterly terrified of being with Theo, always afraid of being herself or being with him.
She was already herself with Harry. For crying out loud, they'd led a tag-team duel on her father before they tortured and killed him. He knew her history, one she had vowed never to reveal to anyone. It hadn't been her intention to tell him, but she did. And she wasn't sorry.
Because of him, she was free.
"Daph," A voice said, and she opened her eyes. The headache was still there. She took the potion from Harry and drank it, before lying down again. She pulled him down with her, and he lied down next to her, on his back. She felt around for his hand and held it.
"This is weird," Harry said, "This. Us."
She hummed in response, waiting for the potion to kick in. She knew she'd be all right in another few minutes and had to stay still for a while. Harry didn't say anything more, but she didn't need him too. She just needed him there.
She sat up after a few minutes – she was fine. Her headache was gone, and Harry had seemingly fallen asleep next to her. He'd claimed the pillow – they were on his bed, so she didn't think it was too selfish of him. She raised an eyebrow at him before she moved her body up a bit and leaning down to kiss him.
His eyes jolted open when their lips met and she laughed at his reaction. He closed his arms around her and brought her down again.
"You're not getting away that easily," He said, and she raised her eyebrow again. What was he up to?
He turned their positions around, so he was on top of her, before he leaned down and kissed her again. First it was a soft kiss, a gentle peck on the lips, and then it was much harder. She wanted to kiss him more, wanted to explore his mouth, and she bit his bottom lip. He groaned – gosh that was sexy – and she giggled.
He took advantage of her giggle and swiped his tongue over her top lip. She inhaled sharply, but she loved it. Her entire body was full of goose bumps when he curled her tongue around his. That was… that was amazing.
She met his tongue and twisted it around his tongue; she was rewarded with a heavy groan from him. He was so responsive and she loved it! He pulled back for a moment of breath, grinned at her before capturing her mouth in a kiss again. Their tongues met again, and a bit of their teeth, but neither of them seemed to mind it much.
She arched her body up into his, her nails scratching his back, as he kissed her. Her body was on fire. He put a hand on her stomach, bunching up her shirt until her naval was revealed to him. He splayed his hand over her bare skin, and goose bumps rose over her body again. She loved that, and she felt heat pool to her stomach. She knew that feeling; she hadn't experienced it much, though.
Harry moved his hand up her body slowly, his hand travelled over her shirt between her breasts before his hand wrapped around her neck, his fingertips touching her ear, as he moved his lips to her throat. He licked a spot on her neck and blew on it, causing her to shudder.
His hand travelled down her body again, his fingertips moving slightly, causing her to shudder again, her arms tightening around him. She wasn't wearing anything thick, she had chosen a pair of shorts, and she grew a tiny bit nervous when his hand didn't stop.
His hand came down a bit harder between her legs and her breath caught in her throat.
"Harry, I…" She started. She didn't want him to stop, but she didn't know what he was planning on doing either, and she didn't like being unprepared. She put her hand on top of his and drew it away. This was… this was new. And she didn't know if she wanted it, but she didn't want Harry to stop…
"Do you trust me?" Harry asked her, his hand resting between her legs. She nodded mutely – heavens knew he was the only person she trusted. "Then trust me with this." She nodded again. "Close your eyes, Daphne." She did as she was told, and he moved his fingers carefully – it was most likely his first time doing something like this. It sent a jolt through her body. She hoped she didn't regret this.
He moved his head down a bit, his mouth covering a clothed erect nipple. That must've taken a lot of courage, she thought, she could hear his shaky breath. She really wished she wasn't wearing a bra, before she felt his hand sneak under her bra and palming her breast. A bit too hard and she stopped him.
"Softer, Harry, those can hurt too," She said shakily, and he laughed nervously, touching her again, this time it was a softer touch, focused on her nipple, and a mewl escaped her lips.
"That better?" He asked anxiously, clearly not knowing whether her response was good or bad.
"Merlin, Harry," She said, "Don't stop…" She breathed, and she saw him frown. He played a single finger over the hard nub, and she thought she was melting. The things he was doing with her body… Nobody had ever taken the time to wonder if she was enjoying herself.
He kissed her again softly as he played his hand over the most sensitive spot on her entire body, and she gasped into his mouth. The green eyed boy took the opportunity and deepened their kiss again, his tongue doing wonders in her mouth.
He slipped his hand underneath her shorts and underwear, causing her to heart to jump into her throat – what was he going to… Oh. Gosh, that felt good. His fingers were stroking the outside and then the inside of her most private area, one she didn't think she would ever share with anyone, spreading the wetness he found there around, as if looking for the correct way to do this, but he was doing fine… oh, he was doing more than fine. His thumb pressed down on her most delicate spot. Her hips bucks up into his hand and a moan escaped her lips, and she felt his smile in their kiss. How did he know how to do that?
"Found it," He said, somewhat breathless.
He started going faster, his thumb circling her clit twice before he gently stroked over it. Faster and faster and… she was going to…
"Harry!" She cried as her climax washed over her, thousands of tiny stars appeared on the inside of her eyelids. She groaned his name again, and he worked her through her orgasm.
"Did I do okay?" He asked, and she heard the hesitation in his voice, "Did I make you do that without you wanting it?"
"Calm down, Harry," She said, giving him a chaste kiss, "You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do. And it was… Harry, that was…" Her chest was still rising and falling rapidly, "Amazing."
He grinned at her, pleased, "Are you sure?" She nodded and closed her eyes.
When she felt a bit calmer, when her breath subsided and her heart calmed down. She was aware that his hand had stilled, but was still inside her shorts. He had nuzzled her neck and was lying on his side next to her.
"You're so beautiful," He whispered in her ear, drawing his hand out, "And you make the most amazing sounds…"
"Harry," She slapped his shoulder playfully. That had possibly been one of the best things she had experienced, if not the best. And he was smiling at her again. She felt something poke her leg, and blushed when she realised what it was. She guessed she had to help him out, since he'd been so kind to her.
She turned to him, looking him in the eyes, before she moved her hand to his trousers. She heard another intake of breath, this time from the Gryffindor, and then his hand caught her wrist.
"Harry, what…" She started, clearly confused at his reaction. Wasn't this what he wanted?
"Daphne," He drew her hand to his lips and kissed it, "That isn't why I did it."
"It isn't?" She said, her voice sounded small, even in her own ears.
"No," He sat himself up on his elbows, and she sat up, bending her knees, "Daphne, I did it because I wanted to… to, y'know, please you and make you feel good…" His face was scarlet, and she wanted to laugh, but all she found were tears.
No one had ever cared for her feelings that way. She got up from the bed and was out the door in an instant. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she remembered thinking that Harry would be responsible for shattering her emotionless façade. She was smiling, though.
"Daphne?" Harry called after her. She didn't reply – she was unable to, emotion was restricting her throat. She was glad she'd saved him. He was… he was an amazing individual.
She went to the kitchen, in the end, where tea was waiting. Bless that elf, she thought.
She heard him calling her name again, his feet thundering as he ran down the stairs in search of her. She got up and waited for him.
"Did I do something wrong?" He asked, his eyebrows knitted together in worry, "I'm sorry if I forced you to…"
She crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around him. She cried into his shirt, and she knew she was confusing him.
"Thank you, Harry," She said, "You're… you're amazing and thoughtful and…"
"Okay, we don't need to blow my ego up, it's already big enough," He closed his arms around her in a hug, "What did I do right?"
"Everything," She sighed, letting him go and wiping her eyes. She looked up at him and saw him smiling absently. Maybe this wasn't so bad.
Their date that night was successful too, though spending a night in front of an old television set they found in a muggle store eating popcorn and ice cream could hardly be considered a date.
. . .
Harry put his trunk next to Daphne's; they had taken a compartment in the middle of the train. This was actually Daphne's idea, because it meant curious onlookers could look at the new development and then move on. It also meant that their friends could find them easily.
The first to find them was Blaise Zabini, Harry noted.
"Potter," Zabini extended a hand in greeting before he gave Daphne a one-armed hug, "Mind if I sit with you?" He was asking Harry, mostly due to the fact that Daphne wouldn't say no.
"I was hoping you would, Zabini, we have plenty to talk about once the others get here," Harry helped him load his luggage to the overhead compartment.
"Daphne!" Another voice exclaimed, rushing into their compartment, causing Daphne to squeak, "I'm so glad you're okay!"
"Goodness, Theo, you scared me," She said, righting her posture, "And of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?"
"Your father was murdered and you were reported missing," Theodore Nott explained, before turning to Harry and Blaise. He was obviously surprised to see Harry; it was evident on his face.
"Potter? What are you doing here?" Nott was too surprised to act like an icy bastard.
"Good to see you too, Nott, I'm here because I want to be," Harry shrugged, "I enjoy Daphne and Zabini's company, they're intelligent conversation."
"What about Granger and Weasley?" Nott asked carefully, and Harry was sure that Nott was fishing, seeing as he hadn't used 'mudblood' and 'blood traitor', he had used their last names.
"They're welcome too," Zabini said, his expression turning serious, "Daphne and I have chosen a side, Theo, we've chosen Po – Harry's side." The dark skinned boy made eye-contact with Harry, who nodded his approval.
"Can I…" Nott hesitated, before he cleared his throat and met Harry's eyes, "Could you use another hand on your side?"
"Are you offering, Nott?" Harry asked coolly, though he was secretly becoming a bit excited; this was good news for him.
"Yes, I am. I'm not going to fall into the trap like my father did." Nott spat out the word 'father' and Harry vaguely wondered if all purebloods had some variation of daddy issues. Then again, Zabini seemed to have a rather healthy and positive relationship with his paternal figure.
"Then welcome aboard," Harry held out his hand.
"I have another one for you, if you're interested," Nott said as he shook Harry's hand, "Vince wants out too. He was forced to be Malfoy's friend in the first place, and he actually passed most of his OWLs."
"I told you!" Daphne said with a grin in place and her arms crossed, and the three boys burst out laughing.
"If you can find him and convince him, bring him," Harry shrugged, "We have a lot to talk about."
Nott nodded, stashes his own luggage with the others before he went off, presumably to find Crabbe.
"Harry, I'm glad you chose a big compartment," Daphne said, "Because we're gonna need all the space we can get." She grinned at him. Harry took her hand in his and returned her smile.
"I never actually knew there were different sizes in compartments," Harry admitted, "Never paid much attention either."
"I don't blame you Harry," A dreamy voice said, "Can I join you?" Harry's grin spread even wider. He had missed Luna Lovegood. He looked around, not missing Zabini's questioning look, and welcomed the strange girl.
"Luna, of course you're welcome," She offered Harry a one-armed hug, before handing him a copy of the Quibbler. He was on the front page – the title read Potter trumps traitor. Harry decided that he would read it later.
"Daphne, you're looking good," Luna said to the Slytherin girl, "Harry's been good to you, I assume."
"Yes, he has been very good to me," Daphne didn't blush at this, "It's good to see you too, Luna."
"You two know each other?" Harry queried, "Am I missing something?"
"She's friends with Astoria," Daphne replied, and Harry remembered that Daphne's younger sister was a Ravenclaw, "Speaking of, have you seen her?" Daphne asked keenly. They hadn't talked about the younger Greengrass sister much, except that Oscar hadn't laid a finger on her.
"No, I haven't. I think she'll avoid you for a day or two, but I know she's missed you." Luna tapped Zabini on the shoulder and gave him a toothy smile, "Would you please help me get my suitcase up there?"
Zabini grunted in response and lifted her case. Harry guessed Zabini still thought Luna was a bit strange – well, she was, but that was beside the point. Luna was a good duelist and an excellent friend. Harry wouldn't trade her for anything.
"I have arrived, fellow humans!" Cyrus Bishop announced, dragging his suitcase behind him, "Ah, damn it Harry" I wanted to be the most interesting person in this compartment – why is Lovegood here? She totally steals my thunder." He grumbled, but shot a smile at said girl. Luna actually laughed at Bishop's antics.
"Am I welcome too?" Ginny appeared, playing with her shirt's end, "Ron and Hermione told me that you wanted to get the DA back…"
"Of course, Ginny," Harry smiled at the redheaded girl, welcoming her with a hug too, "Though we'll have to start turning people away soon of we want a spot for your brother and Hermione."
"What about me?" Neville showed up, "You've taken the people I usually sit with, Harry, and now there's a bunch of Slytherins here… Wait, why are you sitting with them?"
"Just come in, Longbottom," Zabini said, somewhat impatiently, "But that's it. No more."
"What about the other families we included?" Daphne asked, biting down on her bottom lip.
"They already know," Harry said, he'd forgotten to tell her about the letters he had received early that morning, "This is a meeting for the ones who don't know everything yet."
"Of what?" Ginny wanted to know, "Ron and Hermione were vague."
"All in due time," Daphne said, "Let's wait for your brother and Granger; then we can get started."
Ginny accepted that from her position next to Luna. Neville made his way and sat next to her, whilst Zabini and Cyrus were moping next to one another. Cyrus was really taking Luna's weirdness personally.
"Daphne?"
Every head in the compartment turned to the door, and the girl standing there flushed, but she drew her shoulders back and held her head high. She was younger than Harry, only a year, but she was pretty. Her hair was a shade darker than Daphne's and her eyes were a deep brown. Daphne stood up and stepped closer.
"Tori," She said, her tone relieved, "I was so worried…"
The youngest Greengrass threw herself in her sister's arms, "You were worried? How dare you! You run off and you don't tell me where you're going!"
"I'm sorry," Daphne whispered, hugging her sister closer, "I'm so sorry…"
"But you're okay, and that's all what matters." Astoria said, turning to Harry, "Thank you, Harry. I know you saved her and helped her and I know… what you did." She cast her eyes down at her shoes, "Can I hug you?"
"Oh my Morgana, Daphne, your sister is adorable!" Cyrus exclaimed. Harry laughed and accepted the brief hug.
"I know – she's too pretty for her own good," Daphne said fondly, "You're welcome to stay here, with us?" Harry could tell that Daphne was nervous and feeling a bit guilty.
"Oh, like I'm going anywhere else," Astoria said, wiping her eyes, "I just want to get my luggage… Mum has it, and she told me to come and look for you." The unasked question lingered. Even Harry could sense it.
"Tell her I'm here and I'm perfectly healthy," Daphne said icily, "And that I will not be visiting for Christmas."
"Daphne, please, she's worried…"
"No, Tori, that's final." Daphne said firmly, taking a seat next to Zabini. Astoria sighed before turning to fetch her things.
"See?" A voice came from outside, "I told you it wasn't a trap. Daphne and Blaise are too smart to fall for traps." It was Nott and he had Vincent Crabbe and their luggage with them. Crabbe looked at Harry and gulped.
"Potter," He greeted, sticking out a beefy hand.
"Crabbe," Harry shook his hand, "Welcome to the Hogwarts Teddy bear-making club."
Crabbe tilted his head, as if wondering about Harry's sanity, before he snorted with laughter.
"That's one way to break the ice," Zabini shrugged, "Humour. It should be used more often in modern society."
Crabbe and Nott took their seats. The silence was awkward, and Harry could swear that if he tried, he could cut it with a knife.
Astoria returned and the train lurched away. Harry sat down next to Daphne – they got the seat in the corner. They were waiting for the two Gryffindor prefects to show up before they started talking about anything serious.
Luna, Astoria and Ginny were locked in a discussion about a certain hex Ginny had cast before gracing them with her presence, and said hex got her invited to a new professor's office for a meeting. Harry made a mental note to ask her to teach the hex to him, though.
Zabini and Bishop were whispering to each other, whilst Nott and Crabbe just sat in silence. Neville's nose was stuck in a book – most likely about plants, Harry gandered.
"Oh, Harry," Ginny said suddenly, digging into her bag, "Here. Your OWL results, the school sent it to us when they couldn't find you."
Harry took the slightly crinkled envelope, thanking her, and tore it open immediately. He almost laughed when he saw they really did use T (for Troll) – he had been hoping Daphne was yanking his wand over that.
He got an O in Defence, as he suspected, an E in Potions (not an O, as he had thought, but maybe he'd talk Snape into it, the homework was done anyways), Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, an A in Astronomy, P in Divination and a D in History of Magic. He thought he'd made a fairly accurate guess when he dropped both History of Magic and Divination. He wasn't going to stop hoping for Potions, though. He could just borrow a copy of the book from the school if Snape's non-existing kindness kicked in and he allowed Harry back into his class.
"That's really good," Daphne said, peering over his shoulder, "History of Magic is a waste with Binns as a teacher."
"You did better than Hermione at Defence Against the Dark Arts," Ginny said, having turned her attention to them, "She got an E, and she's really torn up about it. Please, Harry, you have to rub this in her face."
"You're being mean," Harry chided the younger girl, "She's one of my best friends, Ginny."
"One of mine too," Ginny said, "But she can be insufferable, Harry, you have to admit that."
"Granger deserves to gloat," Daphne spoke up, and Harry saw a faint trace of annoyance settling into place, "She works hard and does her very best. She's a great friend to Harry and your brother, Weasley, so I would think you would show some respect."
"And who asked you to put in your knut's worth?" Ginny said, rolling her eyes.
"I'm Harry's girlfriend, Weasley; I think I'm allowed to defend him and his friends." Daphne said softly, offering a wink at Ginny. Ginny's face was suddenly a colour that rivalled even the ferocious red of her hair.
"Girlfriend?" Ginny asked curiously. Harry was also aware that everyone in the compartment was now watching them. Zabini, Luna and Cyrus didn't seem shocked at the revelation. Crabbe was staring at them, Astoria looked as if she was about to explode, Neville grinned at Harry and offered him a thumbs up.
"Yes," Daphne said pleasantly, and took Harry's copy of the Quibbler. Harry shrugged – at least they were something now and not just… friends? He didn't think they could be simply friends after… after what he did roughly two weeks ago.
Then Ginny sighed, "I'm sorry, Greengrass. You're right; I shouldn't say things like that."
Harry turned to her again, moving his head slowly, before he felt her forehead.
"Ginny, you don't have a fever," He said, as if awed, "What happened?"
"I'm over you," Ginny said, "I just… was not expecting you to date Daphne Greengrass."
"Neither was I," Daphne added to the conversation, "But I like it. I like him." She looked at Harry and offered him a smile. She had a nice smile.
The train ride swept past high dark green trees and yellow grass, and Harry was fascinated by the shapes of the trees blending into one another, sometimes the images was ruptured by a clearing, but it was like a movie, sort of. Just sort of.
Ron and Hermione joined the group after about half an hour of doing prefect rounds. Ron stared at the four Slytherin boys before sighing and falling down in a seat next to them.
"So, Harry got you too?" Ron said, and Harry would've fallen back in his seat if he could. Ron was actually taking this entire thing well. A little too well… Was this even Ron? Harry had already reached for his wand, before Hermione stopped him.
"It's him, don't worry," She assured him, sitting on his other side, "He's… he's sort of grown up, Harry; he's trying to be more understanding and cooperative. He even did his own homework over the summer."
Harry was impressed, "Why, though?"
"Because he doesn't want to fail you," Hermione said softly, making sure Ron was too busy to listen to her, "He was hit rather hard by what happened at the Ministry. He kept nagging me to help him with defensive magic, and he got good at it too."
Harry smiled absently, happy that his best friend was seeing himself as more. Ron was always selling himself short, and it wasn't worth it. Ron had so much to offer.
"Hey, Ron?" Harry said loudly. The ginger looked away from Cyrus, who was busy demonstrating something with his hands.
"Yeah?"
"Guess who's Gryffindor's Quidditch captain…" Harry said with an even wider grin. Ron's eye sprang to life.
"What? You can't be serious!" Ron exclaimed, "Mate…" But someone cut across him.
"Great, now Slytherin really has no chance," It was Crabbe, and his face was entirely dejected. He scowled briefly before seemingly giving up his internal battle.
"Yeah, we're screwed," Zabini agreed, "Do you think you could put Weasley as keeper again? Maybe then we'd stand a chance."
"Oi!" Ron yelled, "I'm great at Quidditch, thank you very much. You're just sore because Malfoy beat you out for seeker again last year."
"Yes, well, it will not be a repeated mistake. Malfoy has fallen from grace now that old Lucius is locked up in Azkaban – meaning the new captain, who is hopefully not the prat himself, will have to look past expensive gifts and daddy's money." Zabini set his jaw. Harry hadn't even known Zabini was interested in the sport.
"What about wizarding cricket?" Harry said, "We could start to do that for fun, because we can't just do homework and go to class all the time. Sorry Hermione."
Hermione huffed, but it slid into a grin, she knew he was just joking.
"Wizarding cricket?" Cyrus Bishop seemed disappointed, "What's wrong with muggle cricket?"
"It doesn't seem as exciting, or halfway as silly as wizarding cricket," Harry said, "We could start our own team, there's no rule against it."
Daphne put her head on Harry's shoulder and linked their hands, "Can we please skip this? We should talk about why we're really gathered here."
"Wait – you two are together now?" Ron asked, his eyes on their hands, "Well done, Harry." He really was being supportive.
"Thank you, Ron," Harry said before quickly turning the topic around, "I'm going to start up the Defence League we had going last year, Dumbledore's Army, and this time we're going to do it legally with Dumbledore's approval."
"And how do you plan on getting the latter?" Zabini pointed out, "The new Defence teacher will probably want to take over it."
"Well, that's their problem, because I'm the leader and what I say goes. Dumbledore will do as I say, Zabini, you can be sure of that."
"How can you be so sure, Harry?" Hermione asked, "He's not going to bend around your will just because you want him to." Harry wondered if he could make Dumbledore bend around his will if he only threatened to stop being the boy-who-lived.
"No, he won't, but if I ask nicely and add a bag of lemon drops to the deal, he may say yes," Harry joked, though he had another way of getting the aged headmaster to agree to this, though he wasn't planning on sharing that with anyone.
"Dumbledore has a never-ending fountain of lemon drops in his office," Luna's airy voice said, "He once saved the entire lemon population from a rather nasty case of gum disease."
"Luna, lemons don't have teeth," Hermione pointed out. Luna shot her a nasty look and Hermione looked away, a frown on her face.
"Continue, Harry." Astoria said into the thick silence.
"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to join?" Harry said, "Well be learning defensive spells and the proper way to duel."
"Yeah, I'd like that," Cyrus said, "That way; I can get my own eyeball."
"What do you mean 'your own eyeball'? You have two." Ron pointed to Cyrus' eyes, "Or are you referring to that inner eye crap Trelawney's always spinning?"
"No, I want a human eyeball," Cyrus shrugged, "One like Harry's, though preferably a brown one."
"What is he talking about?" Zabini sneered, "Potter, do you have a human eyeball in your possession?"
"Yes, I do, now can we please stick to the topic of the DA?"
"I think we need a new name," Neville piped up, "Seeing as we don't have Umbridge on our backs anymore."
"The junior Order of the Phoenix?" Ginny suggested.
"Heavens, no," Daphne said, "We're forming our own party, Weasley, not adding to the Death Eaters or the Order. The idea is to learn and, in the end, we fight the Dark Lord."
Harry looked around at her – that hadn't been part of what they'd discussed.
"We follow Harry," Daphne went on, "Seeing as he is supposed to be the chosen one or whatever."
"Harry, you don't believe in the prophecy…"
"No, Hermione, I don't," Harry said coldly, "I don't believe in something Trelawney said before I was even born. But, Hermione, I will kill Voldemort –" Several winces were seen throughout the compartment, "Because I want to, not because everyone else wants me to. I want him to suffer as I have, as Neville has, as Sirius did, as Mrs Weasley did… as everyone in the last war had struggled and as the pureblood kids have had to suffer in his name. He has a stupid god-complex and I will destroy that part of him."
"Wow mate," Ron was in awe, "I never thought of it that way. I just always thought you fought him because you felt you had to."
"I did," Harry said, "But now? Now it's more. I know a person who wants revenge has to dig two graves, but I'm okay with that. At least if I go down, he's going with me."
"You're not in this alone, you know," Ron said, slightly heated, "We told you last year – we're in this together, mate, whether you like or not. You-know-who will target us anyways, so why not fight him while he does that?"
"I know, Ron, and that's why I'm gathering allies," Harry replied, "Now, Bishop is in. Any other takers?"
"I'm staying," Ginny said, "As if there was any other doubt." Luna and Neville immediately agreed with her.
"I'm coming to these meetings too, if I'm allowed," Astoria interjected, her eyes on her shoes. She must be very shy, Harry thought, because she kept avoiding eye-contact with everyone.
"Of course, Tori," Daphne said gently, "I wasn't going to exclude you. I was planning on hunting you down and dragging you by your hair to these meetings if you refused."
"Luckily we don't need to do that," Astoria laughed nervously, her one hand going into her hair, as if to make sure it was still there.
"I'm in too, Pot – Harry," Zabini said, "And I would prefer it if you called me by my given name."
"I know you're in, we talked over the summer, Blaise. Happy?" Harry asked him, and the dark skinned boy nodded satisfactorily.
"I like the idea of not being in the whole Dark Lord versus Dumbledore group," Nott mused, "We're on Potter's team now, boys! And girls…"
"Will you really start a group of wizarding cricket?" Crabbe asked hopefully, "It has always sounded like it could be fun, but my father would never let me play it."
Harry grinned, "Of course I'm going to start that little group, we'll have the first practice before the month is over."
"Well, well, well… a compartment full of mudbloods, blood traitors and half-breeds," A new sneering voice said, "Are you all here against your will?"
It was Malfoy. Harry really hated the other boy at that moment – he was connecting with Crabbe, for crying out loud, who seemed to have a brain.
Malfoy wasn't alone, but he was the only one brave enough to enter the compartment, "What have you done to my friends, Potter?"
"We're here at our own free will, Malfoy," Daphne said, and Harry swore she would growl soon with the way she was scowling. He wished he could record it if she did start growling.
"I wasn't talking to you, you traitorous wench," Malfoy snapped at her, "I'm surprised the Aurors haven't pulled you from this train yet and shoved your behind in Azkaban for the murder of your father. What type of pureblood kills her own father, Greengrass? And then, to top it all off, you go around sleeping with Potter over here. Tell me, was the humiliation worth it?"
Harry was seeing red. He was about to throttle Malfoy, but he let go of a deep breath, and he called down. He shoved his emotions to the side, as Daphne had been teaching him, and felt his face slacken.
"And Blaise – I heard your treacherous father finally took a side? Well, from my colourful usage of adjectives, you can see I think he made the mistake of his life. And so did you."
"At least I just made a mistake, Draco," Blaise said with a pathetic expression, but it transformed into a leer, "At least I wasn't my parents' biggest mistake."
"And Nott – I always knew you were a coward…"
"Always, Draco – but I, unlike you, don't run from pixies." Nott replied. Malfoy looked as though he was going to burst an artery, but he got himself under control soon enough.
"Finally, Crabbe, you can come now, I'll save you from this hoard." Malfoy was clawing at straws now.
"No." Crabbe said, and Malfoy's neck strained. Harry could see the muscles there.
"WHAT?"
"You heard me, Draco," Crabbe said, "I'm not going to be your lackey anymore."
"You don't have a choice," Draco hissed, "Your father will disinherit you."
"I don't care," Crabbe said firmly, "I'm sick of you."
"You foul, two-timing, hateful, sodding creature!" Draco yelled at him, "I did everything for you! And this is how you repay me? You will regret this, Crabbe, you'll regret crossing me!" It was as though Malfoy had swallowed a thesaurus, Harry thought slightly amused.
"Pipe down, Malfoy," Ron said, highly annoyed, "Daddy can't save you now, 'cause he's locked up in Azkaban for being a moron. You could join us too, you know? Maybe add a little intelligence to that thick head of yours? Merlin only knows you're not going to get any help from Goyle and Parkinson, they're about as thick as you get."
Harry and Hermione were both staring. Ron actually managed to insult Malfoy without it ending up as a disaster.
"You shut your mouth, Weasel," Malfoy spat, "Your family does not have any money to talk about, so you have no right to speak to me."
"Oh, Draco, you're such an idiot," Blaise laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.
During this exchange Harry had decided to remain silent. He wanted to scope things out, do a little math and maybe some synonym searching, but he thought of a quick and easy way to deal with Draco Malfoy and also assert his dominance, for use of a better word, over Draco Malfoy and the other Slytherin boys now in his court. It would be disastrous if one of the boys got it in their heads that they were a better fit to run this whole thing.
"Shut up, Blaise, you don't know what you're talking about." Malfoy snapped at him.
"Yeah shut up Blaise!" Cyrus yelled, "I wanna hear what he has to say about me before things are settled. My turn to be at the centre of attention!" Cyrus was looking at Malfoy with large eyes. "Oh, I would settle for a grey eyeball. Don't you think, Harry?"
Harry barely kept his snort of laughter in.
"I don't have anything to say to you," Malfoy said, "You're the biggest traitor to Slytherin house of all."
"Are you done, Draco?" Harry said, getting up. His wand was in his hand, but he kept it loose, so as not to alert his foe. When Malfoy made no retort, Harry allowed a tiny smile to curl around his lips.
"Good." Then he raised his wand, flicked it once, and screamed BOMBARDA! at the top of his mental lungs.
Malfoy was blasted backward, and Harry drew the door shut, facing a number of admittedly shocked faces.
Potter: one. Malfoy: negative seven.
. . .
A/N: Please review!