It was an early September morning, the sun was high in the sky, and spirits were with it.

Somewhere in the British countryside, steel tracks wove through the mountains like a metal snake, twisting and turning across the landscape. The Hogwarts express sped along the trail impossibly fast, fat smoke billowing from its roof and inside, eager students clogged it's halls and carriages, energy high in the air. One particular carriage that lacked this enthusiasm, however.

Harry Potter was not okay.

Summer had been fine, life with the Dursleys; the weeks spent with them were always the longest of his life. Then, a spur-of-the-moment trip with Albus Dumbledore brought him back to the magical reality of the wizarding world. He'd spent a lot of time over the holidays chasing the rabbit, but now he was so close to catching it, he could feel it speeding up.

"So you saw Daphne and Malfoy hangin' round in Diagon Alley, what of it?"

"It wasn't just Diagon Alley, it was Knockturn Alley."

"Knockturn Alley, then! What's your point?"

Hermione gave a groan of annoyance beside them.

"Harry is worried because Daphne's gone the entire holidays without returning his letters and now the first he sees of her, she's shopping with Malfoy in a dodgy part of town... Of course, he knows that being in the same house, they're probably just shopping together out of convenience and she more than likely has very good reasons for not returning his letters..." she paused after an incredibly long breath. "And that's why he's waited until it's just us three to bring it up, because he didn't want to sound jealous in front of the others."

Ron gave an ugly grimace.

"Hate it when she does that."

It didn't make sense that Daphne wasn't talking to him. They were finally past things like this - or at least he thought they were.

She'd thrown him through so many hoops last term, being on his side, turning against him (the fact he had context to that now still did not help how he felt in the moment), then suddenly, back on his side again. They had left things off on a good note, but since then there had been nothing, no letters, responses, word of mouth, anything. He'd even gone as far as accusing Dobby of stealing his letters again just like a few summers previous, but everything received from Ron, Hermione and Sirius came through without a problem. That somehow made it seem worse, because it meant his worst assumption was true.

"Harry, I seem to remember our second year, we both went the entire summer without hearing back off you," said Hermione.

Harry scrunched up his nose.

"Dobby was doing that," he waved her off, "that was different."

"She has a house elf as well?" Hermione emphasised. "We don't know what's going on with her home life, but considering she attacked her own father for you, I don't think it's too far a stretch of the imagination to say that letters arriving at her house with your name on them probably wouldn't be very welcome."

He'd had the entire summer to brew and overthink what it meant, wondering what revelation she'd gone through this time to make her stop contact so suddenly. Eventually he'd calmed himself with a less polished version of the same argument Hermione just gave him, but it still didn't help the nagging feeling that he had done something wrong.

And it wasn't jealousy, no matter what anyone said. It definitely made him anxious, seeing Daphne and Malfoy together, but that was perfectly normal. Malfoy had shared a common room with her all of last year and he hadn't been jealous then. Harry knew very well what she thought of him and the other boys of her house, there was no danger or anything to be jealous of in that department, and he was sure of it. But if not that, what was it that caused him to be so unsettled by what he saw?

Before Harry had chance to respond, Ron chimed in from the side.

"Mate, last time she saw Malfoy she practically left him from the ceilin'. You didn't see it but… trust, she hates him just as much as we do. There's nowt to be jealous of."

"I'm not jealous! It's not about that."

"Then what's got you so rattled up?"

His mouth hung open as a spewing of jumbled words and noises came out. He was trying to communicate an unnatural, guttural instinct of which he had no point of reference or prior experience with even though, frankly, he would struggle to describe what he had for breakfast this morning.

"They were outside Borgin and Burkes!" he eventually settled on, stammering. "That's a dark arts shop, I know it is, I've been there!"

Hermione just frowned back at him, raising an eyebrow.

"You've been there?"

"Long stor-" he half-shouted in annoyance before catching himself, "- Look, Lucius is in Azkaban, which means Draco's going to be out for revenge. That's what I'm worried about!"

"Pretty sure she can handle herself if he's gonna try and hurt he-"

"No, I didn't mean... I jus- I don't know! The whole thing just gives me a bad feeling."

Harry's attempts were unsuccessful and Hermione just stared back at him with the same troubled expression she'd worn their entire journey. It was the same pitiful look he'd grow accustomed to during his and Daphne's scandal, earning him a toxic nostalgia.

"You need to learn to trust your girlfriend…"

Harry threw his arms into the air.

"She might not even be my girlfriend anymore!"

His proclamation shut the conversation down immediately. Hermione fell mute, defeated.

The rocketing of the carriage was suddenly the only noise audible to the group. That, and Harry's heavy breathing. Ron and Hermione finally seemed to catch on how upset they'd been making him and looked awkward in their seats.

"Mate…" Ron tried.

"You know, I seem to remember last year this conversation was the other way round!" Harry spat. "You two telling me she was trouble! You've certainly changed your tune now."

Hermione's demeanour changed, she now looked to be choosing her words carefully.

"She saved our lives, Harry... " she said slowly. "Not to mention helped us escaped Umbridge… Personal feelings aside, it's obvious she's made her choice in where her loyalties lay. I don't even like the girl and even I can see you're assuming the worst of her. The only first-hand evidence we actually have she's a bad person was the fact she went along with it when you cheated on Cho."

It took a second for the words from her mouth to reach her ears, then Hermione's eyes bulged out in horror. She turned to him. He rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored her. Then, somehow even more cautious than before, she continued.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry... but, my point remains. That situation was mostly on you… and now, well, I think you're being jealous, and it's making you jump to conclusions. There's nothing wrong or unmasculine about being jealous seeing your girlfriend with a person you hate. I'd feel the same if I saw…"

She turned to Ron , but this time appeared to stop herself from talking. She bit her lip, he noticed, but Ron remained oblivious.

"... Someone that I liked with Pansy."

After her clarification, the conversation faded away again. Either Ron and Hermione felt uncomfortable taking it forward, or neither of them could be bothered arguing over it.

Between the group their biggest complaint over last year was how poorly they'd done stuck together, an unspoken unanimous agreement was that this year was going to be different. It - put lightly - was not off to a great start.

As the minutes passed the tension gradually faded away. It was difficult to stay annoyed at each other in the circumstances. Relationship drama aside, all of them had equally been looking forward to getting back to a Hogwarts free of Ministry interference.

"So, no more DA then this year I take it?" Ron broke the silence.

"Well, it'll depend if the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is any good," said Hermione.

"It's Snape," he said, his attention still mostly focused out the window.

He was met with two sets of furrowed eyebrows.

"You what!?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore's got a old mate of his teaching Potions now, Horace Slughorn," Harry expanded. "He took me recruiting him, the night I turned up at yours. Snape's been bumped up to the Defence Against the Dark Arts post now."

Ron looked like he'd just been given a scolding. He scrunched up his nose and somehow sank even lower into his seat.

"Oh, bloody wonderful..."

"Horace Slughorn was the Potions Master before Snape," Hermione added. "Why would Dumbledore want an old face like that to come back?"

Her question apparently wasn't to anyone in particular, and it went unanswered.

The quiet didn't have long to settle, however, before a knocking on the glass door grabbed the groups attention.

There was a girl in a hat, already in uniform, waving at Harry.

"Friend of yours?" Ron asked.

He pulled his lips together and stifled a polite smile, but wasn't willing to muster any further interaction. The girl wasn't phased by his low effort, then took off back down the train in the way she'd been heading.

"Tracey Davis," he answered. "One of Daphne's friends."

"Lemme guess, she's a Death Eater too?" Ron asked.

"I never said Draco was a Death Eater!"

Ron winced in an unconvincing manner.

"Kinda implied it, mate."

"Stop it, both of you!" Hermione interjected before Harry had chance to respond. "Harry, if you're really that bothered about it, you know you can always just go ask Daphne what she was doing with him, don't you?"

Harry let go a sarcastic laugh.

"Oh yeah, 'cause that won't sound stalkery!"

"Plus walking into a carriage full of Slytherins? Are you mental?" Ron asked from the side.

Hermione glared daggers at him upon his sudden change of attitude, but said nothing. Instead she shook her head at Harry, exasperated.

"Well, wait until we get into the castle, then! Point being, you should just ask her. Relationships are nothing without trust. Jealousy is a natural part of liking someone and it should be talked about, not repressed."

That caught Ron's attention, who frowned.

"Since when did you learn so much about being in a relationship?" he asked her.

Harry pushed his friends to the back of his mind.

It wasn't Daphne that was winding him up, it was what business Malfoy had with her. And no, he didn't mean that in a jealous way.

He couldn't say for a fact, but he didn't imagine Daphne being the most popular person in Slytherin right now. She apparently obliterated Malfoy, Pansy and the others in a fight, then was directly responsible for Lucius getting sent to Azkaban. She had outright betrayed her father, her house and the whole blood purity Malfoy and the others seemed to hold so dear to them. They all had every reason to hate her. It wasn't like Malfoy to be forgiving for anyone, so why was he not only on speaking terms with her, but also willing to be seen in public with her?

Maybe Harry was just being overbearing, but it wasn't one issue that was bothering him about the situation, it was multiple small things that just didn't add up.

And all of them lead back to Draco Malfoy.

Hermione's comment lingered in Harry's mind. They were all on the same train. No doubt a few carriages down, Malfoy was sat with his housemates. After they got to the castle he would disappear into the dungeons for the rest of the year; meaning this was probably the most exposed he'd be for a long time.

Completely unaware of Ron and Hermione's ongoing conversation opposite him, Harry rose to his feet.

"I need some air."


Tracey Davis pushed her way through the crowded corridors of the Hogwarts Express. She swore she had never seen it this full before, but mind you, she didn't often go exploring after it had already set off. Shuffling through a group of newbie first years, she clawed her way clear of the crowd and stopped in front of a side door. She was out of breath by the time she reached it, as this was actually the third door she'd tried since getting out of her seat.

She knocked impatiently on it.

"Occupied!"

"It's Tracey."

Nothing happened for a few moments. She strained her ears to listen out for movement, but if there was any, it was being drowned out by the train's racketing. A few seconds later, a hatch unclipped and the door opened ajar a few inches.

A green eye met her through the gap.

"There you are, you daft git!" she beamed. "How long have you been in here?"

"An hour. I've been reading," the eye replied.

Tracey tried to keep her demeanour friendly, but couldn't help her smile draining from her face. The eye noticed her displeasure and sank back a few inches.

"You goin' to spend the entire year hidin' from everyone?"

There was a groan from the other side and suddenly the door was sealed between them. The bang of which attracted eyes of a few lingering students, which Tracey met with a glare of her own. With others now watching her, she kept her voice a harsh whisper as she moved in closer.

"Come on, you've already proven you can whoop their arses in a fight! You don't need to be scared of them!" she spat.

"I'm not scared of anyone," a muffled voice came through the door.

"Then prove it! This isn't you, be the Ice Queen you keep claimin' to be!" Tracey jabbed the door with her finger. "Go in there and show everyone that there's nowt they can do or say that will bother you. You know that's only gonna wind them up more. If you yield, you're lettin'em win."

Another second passed before the lock clicked out of place again, but this time the door wasn't brought open a inches, but was swung open complete. Daphne exited, book in hand, and an ugly scowl written across her face.

"When did you get clever?"

She pushed instantly past her and began down the corridor to the Slytherin compartments, Tracey did a quick jog to catch her up.

"I'm not just a cute face with a fat arse!" she cheered.

"Don't flatter yourself... " she heard Daphne mumble from ahead of her.

Tracey laughed aloud.

"Oh, you're the comedian now?"

The two slowed to open the cart door. As they crossed into the shared carriage, familiar faces began appearing around them. A few sent grim stares their way, others caught sight of them and immediately turned their attention elsewhere. None of them said anything, which Tracey counted as a blessing.

"Wanna swap anythin' else?" she continued. "I mean, I think you'd look pretty cute with my hat on top of you! And I'd look even better with Harry on top of me."

"I'm leaving him."

If she had been walking any faster she'd have fallen over her own feet. Daphne didn't slow her pace, or turn around with an expected grin on her face. Nothing of her tone used lead to the conclusion she was joking with what she just said.

"You're what?"

During the split second she'd zoned out for, Daphne had come to a halt in front of her. She budged to the side to see what stopped her and saw Pansy Parkinson staring up at them expectantly. Daphne shifted her bag off her shoulder, placed it on the table and proceeded unzip and place her book inside it, all the while Pansy was watching her like a mother who had caught her child misbehaving.

When Daphne then moved to take a seat opposite her, Pansy finally found her words.

"What are you doing?"

Daphne stared at her.

"Sitting?"

Pansy threw a hand in the air and practically shrieked, "There's other carriages…?"

"Then move to one."

For a second, Tracey's hand itched towards her wand in her back pocket. She was ready to throw down any day, but Daphne's boldness had taken even her off guard.

Reluctantly, Pansy seemed to remember whatever had gone down between them last year and - with a face of utter contempt and disgust - grabbed her bag from the shelf above and marched away. Daphne continued placing her bookbag away as if nothing had happened.

After taking a moment to calm her beating heart, Tracey took Pansy's still warm seat. It took her a full second of composing for her to remember what conversation they were just in the middle of.

"Why are you leavin' Harry!?" she said in her best stage whisper.

"Because, I am."

"What do you mean…"

She began to shout before stopping herself. As Daphne settled into the seat opposite her, Tracey leaned in closer to her, the usual perkiness now drained from her face.

"This is 'cause of your dad, innit? What, is he cuttin' off your inheritance? What's he threatin' to do?"

She didn't appear to have an answer for that one. She opened her mouth and then closed it again. There was something on her mind, but for whatever reason, she didn't want to talk about it.

"Daffy?"

"It's dangerous for him to be around me!"

Tracey made a choking-like sound and threw her hands into the air.

"He's Harry-Freakin-Potter, it's more dangerous for you to be around him! Listen to me - that boy is the best bloody thing in your life and you are not breakin' up with him."

She shook her head, her face still dispassionate.

"It's not open for discussion. I've already decided."

Tracey brought a fist to her mouth to avoid shouting.

"You're such a… I don't know why I… I hate it when you…"

Daphne was deliberately being awkward with her. There was a lot more to what was going on than what she was telling her, undoubtedly. It was exactly the same thing she tried to do when she'd caught her with the love bite on her neck, but that was at least understandable. Tracey sank down into her seat, giving up on her words.

The look on Daphne's face told her this wasn't going to be an easy pry. She was missing too many facts to make an argument for her point, and Daphne knew it.

"I just don't get it…" she sighed in defeat," ... you were so happy with him?"

Daphne nodded solemnly.

"That's why I have to do this."

"You don't have to do anything," she shot back immediately. "You're choosing to do it."

"Correct."

Her nostrils flared and she suddenly pushed herself upright in her seat.

"When I said be the Ice Queen, I didn't mean to me! Talk to me! If you're bein'… bein' made to do this, or… or if you've found someone else, just say! I saw what you went through last time two of yous broke up and it broke my heart seein' you like that!" she put a fist over her chest for extra emphasis. "You can't just do a one-twenty so quickly!"

Her rant had come out louder than she'd intended, which dragged the eyes of a few classmates to their direction. Daphne didn't seem to notice them, as her expression was now filled with a mild anger, not dissimilar to the one Pansy had a moment ago.

"Listen to me…"

But she wasn't able to finish.

All of a sudden - and moving at a startling rate - a thick darkness and overpowering stench shrouded the carriage.

Tracey, blinking at that exact moment, struggled to realise what had happened until the smoke completely enveloped her. Shocked screams filled her ears and as she opened her mouth to yell, an acidic vinegar taste strangled her vocal chords. Daphne was completely gone in the sudden darkness, which was made worse by the fact that keeping her eyes open for more than a few seconds made them burn. She threw herself from her seat, choking and collided with the back of someone, though she couldn't tell who.

Supporting herself on the table, she snatched her wand from her back pocket and jabbed it frantically into the air. Her lips moved, but no sound came out and little more than pathetic sparks dropped from the tip of her wand.

Apparently the little magic she was able to muster without speaking was able to do its job, slowly the darkness began to fade into a heavy mist, until slowly evaporating altogether. It had disappeared a lot easier than she had expected, which made the rest become obvious to her.

"That was… that was Peruvian…" she wheezed, and then beat on her chest a few times before continuing, "... Peruvian Instant... Darkness Powder… some little shit must have got it from the Weasley's shop!"

She had addressed that to Daphne, but on turning around, found the person she'd bumped into was a fourth year whose name didn't jump to mind. Confused, she scanned the area for her friend. Despite the short amount of time the darkness had actually been around, the place was in ruins. Girls cradled each other screaming, and from the other end of the carriage she spotted Draco and Pansy glaring back at her with troubled looks.

Daphne, meanwhile, hadn't moved an inch from where she had last seen her. Exact same, bolt-upright position, but now with a ghostly white face. If Tracey's eyes weren't still suffering from the magical powder, she'd even say she was shaking.

"Are you... okay?"

She didn't respond immediately, but was then able to muster a small nod. It looked like anything more would cause her to vomit.

Tracey shuffled back into her seat. Any distraction or burning senses from what just happened instantly vanished from her mind. The look on Daphne's face was churning her stomach.

"Daffy, whatever's goin' on with you…" she leaned in, and a very serious tone said, "I'm askin' you, genuinely, as your blood, talk to me."

It looked like it took her a second to hear her. When she did, she seemed to physically calm down a little, though not much. She took Tracey's hand in her own, which again, took her by surprise, as she was well aware of Daphne's displeasure of physical affection.

"Tracey, you will always be one of the most important people to me," she offered a false smile. "With that being said, I'm asking you, as my blood, and one of the most important people to me... I need to do this on my own. Please, don't question me on this one thing."

Tracey was stunned.

Her mouth hung open. She'd never seen Daphne act this way.

Never in their entire life of knowing each other did she even guess that the expression and tone of voice being produced right now could come from this girl. Part of her wanted to push, part of her wanted, surprisingly, to accept the pleading look on her face and leave it at that. But all of her knew that she was not going to be satisfied with either solution.

"Just… tell me you're safe? Answer that - answer honestly - and I'll leave it."

She nodded slowly, continuing her smile.

"I'm safe."

Tracey chewed the inside of her lip.

Daphne thought she was a much better liar than she actually was.