There was a blazing banner strung across the ceiling above them, the words "DAVIS IS OUR QUEEN", which then were regularly swapped out with "THE FIRE QUEEN". It was an amusing play on words, she admitted it. Her, with her introverted and reserved persona, and Tracey as enthusiastic, ever-passionate extrovert. Their contrast was obvious and frankly - she was a little annoyed the clever play on words had never occurred to her before. Of course, since the drama kicked off last year, she couldn't remember the last time she had been referred to as The Ice Queen. Usually because people either hated her or were too frightened to refer to her at all, but still. It had long been a goal of hers to outgrow the nickname in time - but she never thought she'd have ended up passing it on to another.

"DAVIS IS OUR QUEEN! DAVIS IS OUR QUEEN!"

The Gryffindor common room was teeming with Quidditch players and students alike, all celebrating Tracey's victory. Daphne had never seen anything like it, nor did she imagine it even remotely possible. Her and Harry, a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, were a fluke. A once in a lifetime occurrence. The personality types just didn't match, just didn't go together. But now, to be seeing so many actively, enthusiastically and willingly breaking down the house barriers felt her simply speechless. Daphne took the praise she received, smiling as she sipped the Butterbeer that had been handed her way. At the center of all the excitement was Tracey, who was lapping it up as ungracefully and obnoxiously as was expected of her. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but feel proud at the sight. She had come in as their saving grace, and now they treated her like a messiah.

Everyone was acting as though they had won not just the Quidditch Cup, but the House cup, and then also the Triwizard cup and the Order of Merlin first class as well. Two of the Gryffindor players, she couldn't tell who through the crowd, disappeared and returned with armfuls of butterbeer, fire whiskey, and several bags of Honeydukes sweets. Daphne imagined, with a vain sense of irony, that this was probably what a music concert felt like.

It was Daphne's first and only time in another house's common room - and it looked pretty much exactly how she had expected it to. Prefects, of course, were allowed in other classes' dormitories, such was the standard, but Tracey and Dominique, on the other hand…Perhaps one day she would lose this giddy feeling she got when she knew she was being naught and breaking the school rules - but that certainly wasn't today.

The crowd radiated around Tracey, who was still hoisted on their shoulders as they sung her praise, while Daphne, feeling happier than she had in ages, resigned herself to watching them on the outskirts. This was fine with her - Even in her best mood and with her head swimming in alcohol, she didn't fancy herself much as the centre-of-attention type.

Finally, Harry was able to fight his way through the crowd to her side. He had been one of the progenitors of the rising party, and even now she could see the sweat pouring off him.

"This is amazing!" he cheered.

Smirking, she lifted the butterbeer to her lips. His tone of voice told her that he too, was as awe-inspired by the sight unfolding before them as she was.

"I never thought I'd see the day…" she took another sip, then followed up quickly with, "You wouldn't get this the other way around, of course. It'd take a lot to make Slytherin's warm up to any Gryffindor."

"Trust me, I know."

He gave a smarmy laugh that, in that second, reminded her infinitely of Tracey.

"Don't you think this could be the start, though? Of breaking down the house boundaries? Me and you - what if we started something!? And now this kind of thing is gonna be happening more?"

She fought to keep her tone from sounding demeaning.

"Optimistic…"

Then her eyes lingered over to the cheering crowd, who Tracey was leading the newest rendition of their chant.

"Then again," she added, "... if you ever told me I'd be attending a drinks party in the Gryffindor common room, I would probably have laughed at you."

He chuckled again.

"You? Laugh? Don't be ridiculous."

She repressed a laugh of her own the only way she knew how - by glaring intently at him.

"I am a Prefect, you know?" she spat at him. "I'm allowed here, but Tracey and Dominique certainly are not! I could shut this whole event down and send you all to bed!"

Fearless, he beamed harder at her.

"Yeaaahhh. You're not going to though, are you?"

Her bluff had been called. Cursing under her breath, she resigned herself back to her original position.

"... But I could, is what I'm saying."

"Ooooh! I'm terrified!"

"Go get me a drink, Potter."

He stood to attention and saluted her.

"Yes, M'am!"


Hours had passed since their victory. The party had died down on the whole, but the chaotic energy was still in the air. Cormac had fallen asleep on the carpet and was being used as a footrest for Hermione and Ginny, who were engaged in a tight and secretive conversation with Dom and Demelza. Ron's mood had indefinitely recovered from not being allowed to play - he, Dean, Katie and Tracey were still the life of the party, loud in the center of the room.

Other nameless faces dipped in and out of the crowd, ones Harry knew he should have acknowledged and made conversation with, but he was more distracted by the worrying fact he had completely lost track of Daphne. They'd separated for an hour or so to talk to other people, and now after carefully scanning the room, he was one-hundred percent sure she was no longer here with them. He had been positioned near the common room door, meaning there was no way she could have left without noticing him.

"Have you guys seen Daphne?"

He appeared over the shoulders of the girls around the fire, who quickly shushed their private conversation.

"I think she went to the bathroom, Harry," Ginny answered.

"Arry! Come zit down with us!" Dom cheered, making a move to grab him.

Harry, who found it difficult to think anything of Dom that wasn't the awkward encounter they shared at Slughorn's party, avoided her grip. He then left the area, and mumbled something like an apology in his wake. It was only now he crossed the room he truly appreciated how much he must have had to drink. He never used to drink this much, did he? Since meeting Daphne, alcohol had just kept finding its way to him these days.

He must have zoned out for a second, because he came to and found Tracey inches from his face, he jumped back in surprise.

"What'd she say?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

The question and tone it was asked in took him off guard. He blinked before answering.

"What?"

She gestured vaguely to the group of girls by the fireplace. Which one of his poor housemates did Tracey have her sights on?

"Dom. What'd she say? Anythin' about anyone?"

"No… why?"

"Been mad about her since Fourth Year. I'm gonna ask her out. Her voice just does things to me and she's so pretty. I don't know if I want her or want to be her... Hey, how'd you ask Daphne out?"

That was a lot of information to process and apparently, the time it took to do so was too long for her.

"Daphne Greengrass?" she retried. "The blondy with big tattas? Eyebrows to puncture the hull of a starship? You really should know her by now."

She pointed to her hair, chest and eyebrows in order. Harry didn't know quite where to look.

"No, I know, I… I'm not sure?"

He paused to swallow and formulate a better answer.

"I don't think we really got to ask each other out, it just kind of happened with time... We agreed to give it a try, but that was kind of a mutual agreement, nobody really asked anybody."

It then occurred quite why they were having this conversation, and his eyes leapt quickly followed her swaying finger, and couldn't help the rather awkward interaction he had overheard in Hogsmeade creep into his mind.

"Is she…? You know? Does she like...?"

The drunken enthusiasm seemed to fade from her face, and was replaced more with a look of forced determination, one that Harry recognised from Hermione.

"Well, technically, no, but…" she sighed pedantically. "Half the fun is the chase! You know what they say about spaghetti!"

Harry did not know what they said about spaghetti, nor did he particularly want to.

"I'm... not sure how ethical… that is…"

Tracey didn't seem to hear his concern and blundered on, regardless.

"I just need to know the right way to go about it! If she just gives me a chance I can make her happy. I know I can. I think…"

She pushed air from her lungs and he saw a similar grimace overtake her that was similar to what she wore on the Quidditch Pitch. He understood at once that this was no simple crush - but that she was deadly serious about it. The most serious he had ever seen her. That, perhaps, made things worse.

"I genuinely think she might be the one," she said with an air of finality, and he did not feel like arguing.

Try as he might, when he said his next words, he felt like he was condemning somebody to death.

"Then I guess… if you're going to work in a relationship, then… Well, they have to like you for you, right? So just be yourself."

Expected, Tracey rolled her eyes pedantically.

"That is the most cliche advice…"

Talking more enthusiastically than was truthful, he pushed on.

"But it's true! If she's gonna want to be with you, she'll want to be with you for you. So, just ask her out however you think you should. Don't treat it like it's a big deal, you know?"

Her head clicked away from him, looking not unlike a dog who had just heard a distant noise.

"Yeah… Treat it like it's a big deal… yeah…"

Her words trailed away, then she returned to her determined look.

"Okay… I know what to do…"

With that, she stumbled away from him. Far too late, her words occurred to him.

"Wait, that's not what I said!"

At that moment, the nearby door to the girls dormitory clicked open and Daphne fell out, looking very drunk. Nadia stumbled out of the doorway behind her. Cut between going after Tracey or finally catching up to Daphne, he let his heart decide.

"There you are!" he announced.

The two girls supported each other as they moved closer.

"You know the girls in this house all share the same dormitory!? Like first years!?" Daphne said outrageously.

Nadia then stuck her finger very hard into Daphne's chest.

"And they get their own dormitories? While we have to share like peasants? What the!?"

"I wondered where you had gone!"

Nadia carried on past them to join the expanding gaggle of girls by the fireplace, and Daphne joined him, coming to a stop with her hand on his hip. He was impressed - that was the first time he had seen Daphne touch another person who was not of her exclusive, tightly knit group of friends.

"I was going to the tothroom and Nadia offered to show me around."

"The tothroom?" he smiled.

"I was going to say bathroom… but then changed it to toilet half way, and it was too late. So, now it's the tothroom."

Clearly sensing his on-coming smile, she then stuck a very angry finger at him.

"If you disagree then I'm givinging you detention!"

She gave his hip a squeeze, which was apparently a sensitive area for him, as he wiggled quite suddenly out of her grasp.

Looking at her now, with the background images and voices blurring in and out of existence, he really found it difficult to think of anything else. When in this room, her existence in his life used to be only as a guilty secret. But now, one year on, to have their relationship open and on display in front of so many… Maybe it was the alcohol in his head, but he really couldn't have asked for a better life.

He was living in the world where this girl - this beautiful, temptress - was his and only his. This pure-blood queen fancied his blood-traitor, muggle-born upbringing ass. More than that, she loved him. She was in love with him.

The Gryffindor pride around him be damned, the only thing in his world now was Daphne's soft, Slytherin lips.

"What're we talking about?"

He had to physically shake his head to bring him back to reality. He gestured vaguely at the group of girls, of whom Tracey had now joined.

"Oh, she's er… she's trying to ask Dom out."

Just like that, the happy-go-lucky expression he was just starting to get used to seeing on her face was replaced by the icy sharpness she had come to be known for.

"For the love of Azathoth…"

With Ron and Dean's singing still filling their ears, it was impossible to make out what was being said. But there was absolutely no mistaking what was happening, as Tracey and Dom spoke importantly about something, then Dom pulled back very abruptly.

"Aw no…"

"Oh dear…"

Tracey tried again, moving to reseal the gap. Then for a brief moment, the boy's singing was drowned out as it was replaced by a gasp from all of the girls, as Dom roughly pushed her away. He looked away from the scene, embarrassed. Daphne did no such thing, and almost looked like she was getting some morbid joy from it. From the corner of his vision, he saw Dom storm out the common room.

Beside him, Daphne gave a haunting chuckled.

"You should have told her whatever it was you did to me in Professor Snape's classroom that one time... That'd be enough to turn any girl gay."

Despite the remnants of the party still alive around them, there was startling stillness as Tracey remained frozen for a few moments, then brought herself slowly back to where he was standing.

The first thing he saw was the big glowing orbs in her eyes.

"It… it... wasn't like spaghetti."

The gathering in her eyes broke and tears began to spill freely onto her cheek. Her head dropped suddenly so that her thick brown hair hide her face - Harry did not feel it was his place to embrace her, so settled for a brotherly hand on the shoulder. Daphne, meanwhile, simply crossed her arms. He frowned at her.

"Say something!" he whispered harshly.

She looked between him and Tracey expectantly.

"Like what?"

"I don't know! Anything!"

Considering the concern he had seen her have for Astoria not a week before, he was shocked to see her so on the sidelines about comforting Tracey. It suddenly made it difficult to feel the same love for her he was feeling moments ago.

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she cocked a hip.

"I've said it before. You don't want anything to do with Dominique, Tracey. It was for the best."

"Oh, not this again..." she mumbled, turning away.

"No, I'm not just-"

But Tracey's head shot up suddenly, absolute fury written on her face.

"Daphne, look, I know you don't like her, but you said it yourself that's your fault and not hers!"

Harry's hand dropped from the sudden outburst. Daphne looked like she'd just been slapped.

"She rejected you, didn't she?" she shot back.

"That's not 'cause she's a bad person! It's 'cause she's just not into girls!"

Her exploding at Tracey was normal - bog-standard at this point, actually, but he'd never seen the opposite. It also marked quite possibly the first time he'd heard her use Daphne's abbreviated name.

Daphne then made a noise - the kind Harry had trained himself to duck when he heard. Before he was able to step in, her grimace descended on her

"Tracey, listen to me, right now - Dominique Flamel is a gold digger."

Whatever she had been expecting to hear, it hadn't been that.

"You what?"

"Oh, come on! It's obvious!" she barked. "Why do you think she was so determined on being Harry's date for Horace's party? She knew he was a celebrity and wanted to get close to him! The whole quiet and unassuming thing is just an act - she's from a rich family, of course she had taste for the finer things! She's a gold chaser, Tracey. She doesn't not like you because you're a girl, she doesn't like you because you live on a council estate and shoplift! It's for the same reason why I saw her and Draco together!"

His head turned so quickly, he was sure something cracked.

"Malfoy?" he repeated.

She looked him up and down confused, then put two and two together.

"Oh, they weren't doing anything, but her intentions were obvious. She wanted his-"

"YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"

The party died. More and more had been falling quiet as the rising argument raged, but Tracey's shout succeeded in killing off any remnants of it. Portrait or student, there was now not a conscious eye that wasn't directed at them.

Daphne looked, for the first time, out of her depth.

"I beg your pardon!?"

"She's done nothin' to you!" Tracey shouted, taking a step closer to her. "She's kind and nice and… and not capable of any of that! I really like her and I want to be with her - I've been nothin' but supportive of you and Harry, can't you just try and do the same for me!? Just once!? Can you please be supportive of me and stop constantly shittin' over everythin' that I do!?"

"It's not a matter of not being happy-"

She stuck a finger in Daphne's face.

"Shut up! I have always been there for you! Through thick and thin! Even when the entire castle hated your guts, I was there! And not once have you ever been there for me!"

"I invited you to Horace's party!"

Though he had no desire to get caught in the clashing egos, Harry was slowly trying to inch himself between the two. He had his shoulder in front of Tracey just enough to hold her back, but she was still pushing to get closer to Daphne.

"That's supposed to make it okay?" she barked a laugh."One nice thing in a lifetime of constantly shittin' on me and now you're a saint? Piss off! You're just jealous the attention isn't on you for once! You shit on me while I'm down just to make yourself feel smart, well, I don't care! I don't care if you told me so! I don't care because I am sick to death of you usin' me just to make yourself feel better!"

Daphne, whose face was steadily turning red, either from embarrassment or fury, opened her mouth, but was silenced.

"NO! SHUT UP! THIS IS MY PARTY, DAPHNE! I'M THE QUEEN TONIGHT, NOT YOU!"

In his pocket, Harry had a tight grip of his wand. Across the room, Hermione and Ginny looked equally ready to jump in.

But the explosion never came. Daphne's face was as red as he'd seen it, nostrils flared, eyebrows arched, but just when he thought she was about to shout, she deflated back into her hardened persona.

"Right, then. I can see my presence here is not wanted... Goodnight, Harry. Tracey."

Impossibly calm, she then made an abrupt beeline for the portrait hole. He tried reaching out to stop her.

"I'll come with you!"

She avoided him easily.

"No. I am going to bed. We need to be up in a few hours. Send Tracey down when you can... once she's decided to stop her tantrum."

By the time she mumbled the last part, she was already safely through the portrait hole, and thus out of range of Tracey wheeling viciously around to shout after her.

"I'LL SHOW YOU TANTRUM!"

The quiet didn't last long after this, however. Apparently arguments were the due standard for drunk parties, and the noise quickly resumed again. For Harry, who could see the tattered remains of a life-long friendship in front of him, the idea of going back to enjoying himself now felt outright immoral.

A low, shuddering gasp came from next to him. Tracey slumped herself down in one of the armchairs. He caught a glimpse of her eyes welling with tears before she covered them with her hands.

"God... what have I done?"

He seated himself on the footstool opposite.

"You didn't need to explode at her like that."

"No, I know."

She made a noise somewhere between a grunt and sigh, then held out her hand.

"Get me a drink?"

Not feeling like more alcohol was the solution, he quickly summoned a glass of water to their side and gave it to her.

She took a few swigs before saying anything.

"... cannot believe I just blew that..."

"You guys have had fights before… You were both drunk, I'm sure you'll be able to work it out in the morning. After you both apologise."

But she looked at him as though he'd spoken to her in a different language.

"I meant Dom."

"Oh…"

That didn't line up, did it? Surely she should have been far more concerned about making up with Daphne than her chances dating? Then again, he tried to put himself in her situation. He wouldn't be able to decide between Daphne or Ron, but if it was the same circumstances, between potentially having a repairable fallout with Ron, or losing Daphne forever, he admitted he too would have to put his efforts into preventing the latter.

Even with a relationship as strained and confusing as theirs, something about the attitudes they displayed towards each other tonight didn't sit right with him. Did family maybe mean something different in Slytherin than it did Gryffindor?

"I really like her, Harry."

Suddenly feeling a pang of sympathy for her, he decided his best efforts would be to try and improve Tracey's mood. Whether or not her priorities were in the right place, it couldn't be ignored that she had lost a lot tonight.

"Come on, let's go somewhere private."

He brought them both up from the armchair and began to shuffle them towards the stairs. With most of the lads down here, that should make the boys dorm relatively abandoned. Glancing across the room, he saw Hermione staring curiously at them. He gave her a quick and reassuring shake of the head, then continued their own way.

She must have been more drunk than outwardly letting on, because the mission of wrestling her up the stairs was not an easy one. Shorter than even Daphne was, she was able to tuck herself neatly under his arm. By the time they finally reached the door to the boys dorm, he had both hands on her.

"Right, stay quiet. Neville is already asleep."

He pointed her in the right direction and simply let go. She thundered herself forward, flopping onto his bed.

Suddenly, the unmistakable and painful sound of snapping wood reverberated through the dormitory. It was a noise known to absolutely churn the stomach of any witch or wizard. Even though she lay absolutely motionless on his bed, he imagined Tracey was experiencing the same feeling of sheer terror that he was.

"Stand up!"

She remained solid, and when she did talk, it was muffled into his pillow.

"Ah can't."

He edged his way slowly closer to her.

"... It might not be that bad?"

Slowly and surely, she arched her back, tucking her knees below herself so she sat cross-legged in the centre of his bed. He brought himself cautiously next to her. In what almost seemed like slow motion, she brought her hand inside the borrowed, scarlet Quidditch jumper she wore and pulled out two halves of a snapped wand. Though the wood was shattered and splintered down the middle, a dried up dragon heart string kept the pieces vaguely hung together.

All in all, it was a pathetic sight, and an utterly heart wrenching one for any magical person to experience. There was a clatter as the wand fell uselessly to the floor and Tracey gave a wretched sob. She collapsed forward, falling into Harry arms as the tears began to flow freely.

Harry felt awkward in his own skin. Nonetheless, the pathetic state next to him brought his heart to override his brain. He steadily brought his arm over her shoulder in the most comforting, brotherly-way he could manage. She took his arm as though it were a blanket, squeezing herself tightly into him, as if she was trying to get inside his chest.

"Anything else I need to lose tonight?" she asked with mock joy. She spoke cheerfully, but it was a very different kind of happiness she usually displayed.

"You'll be fine," he tried, stroking her hat. "Just… try and get some sleep?"

"I'm not that drunk, yanno."

He smiled sadly.

"Can't imagine staying up will help, though?"

She nuzzled deeper into him. He breath was very warm on him, it sent guilty tingles up his spine.

"I just want what you guys have…" she mumbled. "You're so happy when you're both together and you help each other so much... I want someone I can rely on like that. You're both just too good… Even after all that and breaking my wand, you're here. Nobody else is here. But you are…"

She brought her face up while talking, so now they were only inches apart.

"Why did Daphne have to get you? You're too good for her. She's a bitch… I'm nice, I've always been nice… What does she have that I don't?"

He gave her an uneasy smile.

"It's not like that… you're great, too. With me and Daphne, it just… it just worked. You'll get someone nice too, someday. Happiness comes as easy as you let it."

Apparently, this had not been the right thing to say, because a couple seconds after that, she pushed forward suddenly and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. It had brushed the corner of his lips, but that was entirely down to him avoiding her movement.

"What're you doing?"

He'd be stupid not to know what she'd tried. Unmistakably, she had just gone to kiss him and he'd avoided it - it just felt right to vocally establish his protest. Feigning ignorance seemed a plausible escape solution. Maybe by playing innocent, the rising problem in his pants would go away?

Then, in a way he'd never seen from her before, she giggled and buried her red face into his shoulder. It was outright unnatural seeing her act girly.

"Sorry…"

But there was no going back now.

A rising clash of emotions made itself known inside him. He feared it from the second they entered the dormitory; he sensed things turning this way on an almost subconscious level. He could have turned her away at any point and it was wrong of him not to do so sooner. Continuing not to now was more than simple carelessness. And, though he had protested and faked ignorance, he had allowed things to get to this point.

That lingering, shameful urge he used to get was back. Images of the potions classroom all that time ago flashed in his head. Now though, Tracey had replaced Daphne as the object of his desire. It felt wrong. It felt unnatural. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be, was it?

"Harry..."

She leaned forward, aggressively this time, and sealed them together. For a second, he was too stunned to move. Her lips were soft and warm, but also wet with salted tears. His eyes grew wide with horror.

She was kissing him. He was not only breaking probably a hundred school rules even inviting a girl into the boys dormitory, but for the girl kissing him not to even be his girlfriend, but his girlfriends sister, made him feel possibly the worst he ever had done in his life. Yes, she was drunk, upset and probably didn't know what she was doing, but she was still doing it. And he was still letting her do it.

But, it was different to how Daphne had kissed him the first time. Then, his body was in control, pushing him in one direction, but this time his mind, and more importantly, his heart, was fought back with infinitely more power.

Regaining the control he had lost, he brought himself from the bed quickly.

"Don't do that!"

She looked surprised by his sudden outburst. Clearly, she had been planning things going the other way. What was all of this? What really were her intentions? Was he just a rebound after being rejected by the girl she liked? Or was this her way at getting back at Daphne? By trying to sleep with her boyfriend? Whatever the reason, he definitely didn't think this was all because she harboured some deep crush on him.

She blinked a number of times, her mouth still open from where she'd kissed him, and struggling to put together a response.

"S-sorry…"

She spoke in the most pathetic, un-Tracey-like tone he had ever heard.

"... I'm just… and… a-and you're so nice to Daffy… I want someone to be nice to me too… ?"

At the mention of her name, his conscience suddenly reared and any misplaced morals were back with force.

"Yeah, you are drunk!" he spat nastily. "Now go to sleep! Don't try that again."

He moved to start pulling the bed curtains shut around her. She protested, apologising, and as he went to pull the final one closed, gave him a truly broken hearted stare through the curtain.

"Please, don't leave me…."

He dragged the curtain shut with more force than he should have done.

His head was that much of a rush of emotions, he didn't even register Hermione as she called out to him upon reentering the common room.

Tonight may have potentially ruined everything good he had been building towards, but at the very least, he was comfortable with his decision. If he needed any more proof he wasn't a bad person, now it was simple. He turned her down in a way he hadn't done with Daphne. Cheating on Cho was a fluke - not in his nature. His morals were in place.

He did the right thing, and that was exactly what he would be telling Daphne tomorrow. He didn't care how sad or drunk Tracey was feeling, he would not allow her to ruin the good thing they had going now.


A/N Last hurdle now. Chapter 40 will be the final.