Chapter Eighteen – Witches and Wizards

It was a morning made for the first day of a new term. The late summer sun shone down on the heads of the students through the magical ceiling of the Great Hall, behind which stretched a cloudless sky as blue as a forget-me-not. The atmosphere in the hall was one of happiness and anticipation for the new experiences the school year would bring. And the house elves seemed to have outdone themselves with today's breakfast, if the many delicious smells in the air were any indication.

Yes, it was a morning made to start a wonderful day, Harry thought, if it weren't for the two bickering students next to him. They had been at each other's throats since they got up and there was no improvement in sight.

"What else could have happened?" Ron was about to launch into another tirade. "Scabbers never just disappeared and –"

"How should I know?" Hermione said in an audibly annoyed voice. She had probably said that sentence a dozen times already today.

Ron continued to rage unperturbed. "It could only have been your bloody cat! All day yesterday that monster looked at Scabbers like he was a tasty snack, and now he's caught him! Killed him in cold blood and ate him and –"

"For the thousandth time! Crookshanks was with me all night! Several people saw Scabbers run out of the common room yesterday, and Crookshanks hasn't been out since!"

"How would you know? You were asleep!"

"I just know! I'm a light sleeper and I know he's been in my bed the whole time."

"He sneaked out at night to slash poor Scabbers, and then he sneaked back in and –"

"Arrgh! You're driving me mad, Ronald," Hermione cried in despair. She turned to Harry. "Now say something, Harry!"

Harry looked up from his cereal. He already had a headache from his friends' argument and all he had done was listen. He would like to be dragged into their argument as much as he would like a double lesson in Potions. His mind was inclined to agree with Hermione, for even he didn't believe Crookshanks had really eaten Scabbers, not after the rat had escaped him yesterday. On the other hand, everything in him was screaming to join in Ron's tirade against the animal. Bloody cats, each more horrible than the last.

And so Harry did what seemed the wisest thing to do at the moment. He gave his two friends a grim look and said, "You can sort this out between yourselves. Now let me eat."

Hermione put a hand on his arm. "But you saw Scabbers run out of the common room too, didn't you?" she said, moving closer to him. "And you don't think Crookshanks would do something like that, do you?"

Harry instinctively moved away from her. "Yes. I've already said that. And I don't know, I don't know him at all. How would I know such a thing?"

"Ha! See, Harry thinks he did it too!" exclaimed Ron.

"He didn't say that!" replied Hermione. "Harry, you –"

At that moment, Harry's salvation appeared, as it often did, in the form of Daphne. She came towards them, her heels clicking loudly on the stone floor. But although her walk was as purposeful and confident as ever, Harry could see that something was troubling her. Her shoulders were a little tighter than usual, her chin a little higher and her gaze harder. And deep circles under her eyes marked her pretty face, which was telling as his best friend usually got by on very little sleep. So what was going on?

Harry gave Daphne a worried look as she approached, but she shook her head almost imperceptibly. Whatever was bothering her, she didn't want to discuss it here in public.

"Good morning," Daphne greeted them, but Hermione and Ron only gave her a quick look before continuing their argument. For Harry, however, their childish banter had faded into the background as he met Daphne's gaze.

Daphne placed a hand on his shoulder. "Can we talk?" she asked softly. "I need to tell you something."

"Of course," Harry said, getting up from the table. "Let's go outside." Turning to the other two, he said, "I'll see you later."

With that he took Daphne's hand in his and together they left the Great Hall. They crossed the Entrance Hall and stepped through the portal into the open air, where they were greeted by the glorious weather of this September morning. But Harry had no eyes for that either. He just looked at Daphne.

"I need to tell you something," she repeated.

Now Harry took her other hand in his as well. "What is it, Daph?"

"I spoke to Astoria yesterday."

"And it didn't go well?"

"Yeah, not so well, but that's not the point right now." Daphne took a deep breath. "I was angry afterwards and went to the Room of Requirement. And on the way there ... On the way there I met a rat."

"Oh, please don't..." Harry said. He had a terrible premonition.

"The rat didn't survive the encounter," Daphne continued. "It wasn't until I was finished that I saw it was missing a claw on its right front paw."

Daphne's words confirmed Harry's suspicion. He let go of her hands. "By Merlin," he muttered, rubbing the root of his nose.

Daphne, on the other hand, looked at him guiltily. Her fingers had begun to play with the black ring on her right hand, the perfect counterpart to the one he wore on his. These were the rings in which they stored the life power of the tortured animals. For some time now, they had been unable to absorb any new life power as their magical stores were filled to the brim. At that moment, Harry felt his ring was very heavy.

"Okay," he said slowly. "This is a bloody awful situation. But we have to keep our heads. No one can know about this. We can't tell anyone. To the others, it has to look like Scabbers just disappeared."

As Harry said this, his thoughts returned to Ron, his first real friend in his life. Who would never know what had happened to his pet. That it had been Harry's best friend who had tortured Scabbers to death. Because it had to have been, he could see that clearly in her eyes. She wouldn't look like that if it had been an accident. It had been deliberate and she had enjoyed it.

Harry swallowed. He knew this feeling all too well by now.

"We can't do this, Daph," he said. "We have to control ourselves better. We can't just..." He trailed off.

Now it was Daphne who took his hands. "I know," she said, "I know I lost control. I should have realised sooner what a rat I was dealing with."

"Are you at least sorry?"

"I'm sorry for causing you pain."

Harry sighed. He knew Daphne was telling the truth because she never lied to him, no matter how hard and unsparing the truth might be. He couldn't expect her to pretend. Nor did he want to, for fake tears could hurt more than any truth, no matter how hard.

"Are you angry with me?" asked Daphne. "I don't want you to be angry with me."

Harry shook his head. He couldn't be angry with Daphne if he tried. There was blood on his hands too. And the uncertain look Daphne was giving him was hurting his soul. He could not see her suffering and so he squeezed her hands.

"You know I can never be angry with you," he said with a faint smile. "But this can't happen again, Daph. It can't. We're better than that, aren't we?"

Daphne leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. "You certainly are, my shining knight. I'm not so sure about me."

Harry felt the blood rush to his cheeks and the place where Daphne's lips had touched his skin felt quite warm. He cleared his throat as she smiled mischievously at him. "So, Astoria?" he asked. "What happened?"

At the mention of her sister, Daphne's graceful face immediately hardened. "We had a fight. A bad one. She thinks I let her down. And I'm afraid she's right. I was so happy to have escaped my parents' clutches that I didn't think about her at all."

"You were twelve. What were you supposed to do?"

Daphne nodded slowly. "My parents have now sold her to the Malfoys. Astoria took my place."

"Those bastards," Harry cursed. His eyes searched Daphne's. "What are we going to do?"

"Nothing for now," she said, "If Astoria won't part with our parents, what can we do? We can't fight her battles for her."

"But neither can we stand idly by while such injustice is done! When a girl is sold like a piece of meat!"

The very thought made Harry's stomach turn. To think that Daphne might have met such a fate, no, he didn't even want to think about it. If Malfoy had harmed a single hair on her head... there wouldn't have been enough of him left for his parents to bury. And he himself would probably have been thrown into the cell next to Sirius Black in Azkaban by the Aurors.

"The contract won't take full effect until Astoria comes of age," Daphne said. "And a lot can happen between now and then."

Harry nodded grimly. "Let's focus our anger on those who deserve it. Let's make the world a better place, Daph, not a worse one."

"Then I need you to stay with me, Harry. You are my compass. The sunlight to my darkness."

Daphne had said that to him before, Harry remembered. Back when she had come to him in Privet Drive and they had run away together. It seemed like an eternity, but it had only been a little over a year. But his conviction and his feelings had only grown stronger since then.

"Of course," he said. "That's what I promised you, isn't it?"

It took a while, but eventually Ron and Hermione made up. It was not least the persuasion of his siblings that made Ron realise that it was probably not Crookshanks' fault that Scabbers had disappeared.

"He got old," Percy said at dinner. "It's a wonder he lived as long as he did."

"Especially with all the cats and owls around," Ginny interjected.

"That's true, of course. It's not for nothing that rats aren't actually allowed as pets at Hogwarts."

Ron sighed when he heard this. In a dejected voice he said, "You're right, but I just miss him..."

At that moment Harry felt bad.

Where he didn't feel bad was in his classes, except for Potions, because Snape was as spiteful as ever. But the other lessons came as easily to him as flying on a sunny, windless day. While most of the other students had had a summer of idleness and relaxation, he and Daphne had not stopped studying and training. And so the gap between their magical abilities and those of their classmates had only widened, even though they had already been miles ahead of the others in the previous year.

So while Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick used the first few lessons to review the material from the previous two years, Harry read the Monster Book of Monsters to prepare for Hagrid's class, wanting to help his friend get off to the best possible start as a teacher. And he only had to threaten to set the book on fire a dozen times before it finally gave in and stopped trying to rip his leg off.

Hagrid's first lesson was a resounding success. Although Harry refused to ride one of the Hippogriffs – such a proud creature didn't deserve to play pack-animal – he had managed to push Malfoy into the mud. Only to protect him from an angry Hippogriff, of course, as he explained to his friends afterwards, though he could tell from Daphne's mischievous smile that she didn't believe him. What a low opinion she always had of him.

Their other new subjects were not as eventful as Care of Magical Creatures, but Harry found them interesting too. Ancient Runes also showed how far they had come and that they had probably taught themselves all the material for the year and beyond. Daphne perhaps a little more than him, Harry thought, for she loved runes and used them avidly in her enchantment experiments.

Where Harry was way ahead of her, however, was in Arithmancy. The subject was very number-heavy and it seemed that children from pure-blood families had significantly more problems with the arithmetic required than children from half-blood or Muggle families. Harry put this down to the fact that the pure-blood children, like Daphne, had not attended a primary school where maths was taught.

"Hmmpf, okay, yeah, you're better at maths than me," Daphne admitted after their first Arithmancy lesson. They were on their way up to the third floor for their first lesson with Lupin. "But I'm better at magic!"

"Oh, you really think so?" Harry asked challengingly. He had an idea. This could be fun.

"I don't just think so, it's true."

"Then you don't mind proving it, do you?"

Daphne paused and looked at him. "What, here and now?"

"You're not afraid, are you?"

"In your dreams," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Looks like I'll have to show you which of us is the better witch again."

Harry, meanwhile, was grinning all over his face. They'd never done it in public before, but part of him couldn't wait to show off his skills. So he and Daphne stood a few steps apart in the corridor. They pulled out their wands.

The other students in the corridor gave them curious looks and some even stopped to watch what they were doing. But before they could start, a few details needed to be sorted out.

"Theme?" asked Daphne.

"Winter," said Harry. "Silent or loud?"

"Silent."

Curiosity was now mixed with confusion on the faces of the watching students. Harry knew that he and Daphne had a reputation for being eccentric – hell, the whole school had been gossiping about what they'd done in the Dueling Club last year – but even by their standards this was probably unusual.

If only they knew what we've been up to behind closed doors, Harry thought with an inner grin.

Outwardly, however, he said in a serious voice, "I'd back off a bit if I were you."

"Why?" asked a second-year Hufflepuff. "What do you –"

"Less talking, more fighting," Daphne shouted, jerking her wand upwards.

A huge lance of ice shot out, hurtling towards Harry, but he just managed to create a magical shield in front of him, against which the lance shattered with a thunderous crash. Chunks of ice were hurled in all directions.

Had the lance hit him, it would have easily impaled him on the opposite wall. So Daphne seemed to have taken his criticism of her maths skills really badly, so now she was out for his blood, or she had complete faith in his ability not to be killed so easily. Harry hoped for the latter.

The other students ran away, some screaming. Harry paid no attention to them, but went on the counterattack. In quick succession, he hurled ice balls at Daphne like cannonballs, but she made a long, fluid motion with her wand and the ice balls changed direction mid-flight, hitting the walls of the corridor and leaving deep furrows in the stone.

Harry followed quickly. His wand made an intricate movement in the air and dark clouds formed above their heads. The temperature in the corridor dropped several degrees as he unleashed a magical winter storm. Violent gusts of wind swept through the corridor, taking with them everything that was not firmly anchored, knight's armour, paintings, scraps of parchment, and in between, ice and snow, all heading towards Daphne.

Her eyes widened and Harry thought he had caught her flat-footed, but then a smile played around her lips. She raised her arms and a wall of ice appeared in front of her. The gusts of wind smashed against the ice wall like waves against rocks, but it held. One second, five seconds, ten seconds. Eventually, he could no longer hold the spell and had to end the magical storm.

Harry's heart was beating wildly in his chest. He looked suspiciously at the wall of ice Daphne was hiding behind. He would have liked to set it ablaze, but that was against the spirit of their competition. He was still considering how else to bring the wall down when it suddenly collapsed with a loud thud.

Instinctively, Harry grabbed his wand to defend himself from what was to come. But he was not prepared for what came next. He was so surprised that the duel almost ended for him at that moment.

Daphne rained a flood of carrots down on him. Bright, fat, orange carrots, the kind a rabbit in rabbit paradise couldn't have wished for more beautifully.

"What, Harry?" came Daphne's mocking voice. "Haven't you ever built a snowman in winter? Would you like to build one with me?"

And with that, Daphne made a circular motion with her wand and a huge snowball appeared in front of her, as big as a mountain troll and as wide as a carriage. The ball rolled towards Harry to bury him under it.

Harry had had enough. He drained some of the stored life power from his ring and, with a quick wave of his wand, froze the carrots to ice. They now looked like orange icicles, and like icicles they fell to the floor all over the corridor, shattering into thousands and thousands of ice shards. It was getting colder. Harry's breath was coming out of his mouth like frozen water, but he hardly noticed. He screamed, and his cry, amplified by the magic and fiery heat within him, caused the rolling snowball to shatter just before it reached him. The snow was hurled in all directions, some of it hitting Harry in the face, but he barely noticed that either.

"I never built snowmen," he called to Daphne. "But you know what I always liked to do in the winter?"

"What?"

"Sledding on the ice!"

Harry jerked his wand forward and a bright blue beam came out. It hit the floor where ice spread in a flash, across the floor, the walls, the ceiling.

"Just be careful not to slip."

The blue beam was replaced by violent gusts of wind that shot from his wand down the corridor, straight at the terrified Daphne. She threw up her hands, but she was too slow. The gusts caught her and knocked her off her feet. Her petite body hit the ice-covered ground, where the gusts of wind pushed her further and further backwards. She tried to cling to the ground, but her fingers could not find a grip.

Harry thought he had won when Daphne gave up her futile clinging. From one moment to the next, her posture relaxed. As if in slow motion, she raised her arm and pointed her black wand at him. A smile played around her lips – and in the next instant, a green rope shot out of the tip of the wand, straight at Harry. He hurriedly cast a shield charm, but mid-flight the rope suddenly changed direction. It turned sideways, past his shield and then back towards him.

Before Harry could react, the rope had wrapped itself around his torso and pulled him off his feet, right behind Daphne, for they were bound together by the rope. Only it wasn't a rope, Harry realised now, it was a string of lights, the kind some people hung on Christmas trees.

"Hey, the theme is winter, not Christmas!" he shouted to Daphne as they both slid across the floor.

The wind Harry had unleashed had died down by now, but the ground was still icy. He struggled to free himself from the string of lights, but it wouldn't let go, nor would Daphne, who was clutching her wand tightly.

"Don't be such a stickler," she shouted, and suddenly something strange happened.

Harry felt a tug inside him, as if a fishhook had pierced his flesh along with the string of lights that had wrapped around him. He was being pulled forward, but only inwardly, for it was only the sensation of being pulled, like a fish on a hook, but without the associated movement of the body. Harry knew this feeling only too well.

Daphne was such a devious witch, he cursed. She was really living up to her models Morgana and Circe. She was using his life power! She had clung to him like a leech and now she was using his power against him.

Harry felt his life power slowly seeping out of him, and with it, it seemed, all his warmth. His insides felt like a shell of ice closing around them. He could barely breathe. He knew he had to do something or he would become a snowman himself and the battle would be over. But he already lacked the strength to reach for Daphne's life power himself, to fight fire with fire and ice with ice.

And so Harry reacted instinctively, almost desperately. He tore at the string of lights with all his power, magic and remaining strength, as hard as he could. A bright scream rang out as Daphne was dragged towards him. The pulling inside Harry eased. Warmth spread through his limbs again.

The next moment, Daphne's body crashed into his. They both screamed in pain as their bodies locked together. They rolled and writhed, both trying to free their wands, and they succeeded, only a split second apart.

Daphne was now on top of Harry. Her wand pointed at his heart, while his dug into her neck. Their fight was over. It was a draw. As it often was.

An amused smile played on Daphne's lips. Only now did Harry realise how bloody close they were. Daphne's face was only inches away from his. Harry looked straight into her eyes. He had looked into them so many times before, admiring their unique beauty, but rarely had they seemed so wild and unbridled as they did at that moment. Daphne's golden irises were filled with a green glow, like amber surrounded by emerald flames.

Daphne's breath brushed across Harry's face. Slowly, he moved his gaze from her eyes to her lips. They were just above his. Not for the first time, he wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. To be kissed by them.

Without thinking what he was doing, Harry lifted his head. He closed the gap between them and –

"What are you doing here?" a voice suddenly rang out.

Remus Lupin was standing over them, his face a mixture of astonishment and confusion.

Harry and Daphne jumped. Hastily they rose from the frozen ground. It was only now that Harry could take a closer look at their surroundings. The whole corridor was covered in snow and ice, icicles as long as swords hung from the ceiling, and the windows were covered in hoarfrost, as if they had put on diamond jewellery to congratulate them on their performance. The scenery was as radiant and beautiful as if they'd stepped into a snow globe.

"We had a bit of a disagreement," Daphne said, brushing her silky black hair out of her face. "I was right, by the way."

"Do you want a rematch?" Harry asked challengingly.

Lupin raised his hands. "Take it easy. I think I understand enough. You two really are incredible. Incredible, yes."

He shook his head before looking at them again, still a little taken aback, Harry thought, but all in all their teacher seemed to take it rather calmly that they had turned the corridor to his classroom into a winter wonderland.

"You will, of course, have detention, twice a week for the next two months. But also take twenty points each for Gryffindor and Slytherin. There's nothing like a good show. That's what your father used to say, Harry, and it may have been one of the wisest things he ever said."

Harry and Daphne waited outside the closed door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom as the other students arrived one by one. Surprise, astonishment and, in the case of the Gryffindors, a little amusement were on everyone's faces.

"Why have you iced the corridor?" asked Ron when he saw them. Not whether they had done it or how, just why.

"We just felt like it," Harry replied with a grin. "And it looks good, doesn't it?"

"It's really beautiful, the way the light breaks in the ice," Parvati said with a dreamy look. "Magic really can be a wonderful thing."

"Or a dangerous weapon," Dean interjected. "Man, those icicles look like they could impale someone."

As the Gryffindors discussed excitedly, the Slytherins they shared the class with stood a few feet away, scowling at them. Well, all but one. Daphne still slept in the Slytherin dungeon and wore the green trim on her school uniform, but otherwise she seemed to have become a proper Gryffindor. A lioness in all but name, Harry thought amusedly. Daphne would probably rip out every feather in his plumage one by one if she knew he was comparing her to a feline creature.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" asked Hermione. "Class started a minute ago, didn't it?"

"He said he had to prepare something," Daphne said. "I'm sure he'll be here any minute."

Sure enough, a moment later the classroom door opened and Lupin invited them in. "Good afternoon to you all. Come in, come in. We've got a lot to do, so let's not waste any time."

Harry walked in with the others and the first thing he noticed was that all the desks and chairs had been moved against the wall to make room in the middle of the room. There was a large old wardrobe that looked like it had seen better days. But Harry saw a magical aura emanating from inside the wardrobe. So there was a living creature inside, but what kind?

The creature's aura was strange, somehow pale and colourful at the same time. Harry had never seen anything like it before. Next to him, Daphne frowned.

When Lupin stepped in front of the wardrobe, it suddenly began to shake violently.

"Nothing to worry about," Lupin said calmly as several students backed away in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."

That would explain the strange aura around the creature, Harry thought. A shape-shifter. How exciting.

But most of the other students didn't seem to share his opinion, for concern had spread across many faces, despite Lupin's words.

As if to reassure them, Lupin continued in a calm voice. "A Boggart is a shape-shifter. It can take the form of whatever someone is afraid of. It does this to defend itself if it thinks it is in danger, or to hunt prey itself, as Boggarts are pure carnivores. But as I said, there's nothing to worry about. The Boggart in the wardrobe is a young specimen and is not yet capable of harming anyone other than scaring them. And its prey is not wizards, but mice and other small animals. I know a wizard who keeps a Boggart just to deal with his rat infestation."

"What does a Boggart really look like, Professor?" asked Lavender.

"A good question, and one I'm afraid I can't answer. No one knows what a Boggart really looks like because no one has ever seen one in its natural form."

"And how can you defend yourself against them?" asked Ron.

Lupin smiled at him. "Laughter. The Boggart will try to frighten you, and the most effective means against it is to not let it, and even to make fun of it."

"The most effective means?" asked Daphne sceptically. "Can't you kill it?"

For the first time, Lupin's composure seemed to crumble. He gave Daphne a thoughtful look before answering. "It is possible to kill a Boggart, yes. But it is difficult, for it is, remember, a shape-shifter. So where is its heart? Its brain? Believe me, the most effective means of defeating a Boggart is laughter. And I'm going to show you a special spell to do just that."

Daphne frowned and Harry sensed that she was not satisfied with the answer. He sympathised with her. Even if it was a shape-shifter, the Death Curse, for example, had to have some effect, right?

"The spell to repel a Boggart is simple, but it does require mental effort," Lupin continued. "Because while you are casting it, you have to think very hard about how you are going to ridicule the Boggart, which, remember, will take the form of your fear. Now repeat after me. Riddikulus!"

What followed was one of the most entertaining lessons Harry had ever had. After they had practised the spell together a few times, and each had briefly thought about what they were most afraid of and how to make it funny, Lupin let the Boggart out of the wardrobe. One by one they faced the Boggart and soon the classroom was filled with laughter.

Harry found it most interesting to see all the different fears his classmates were feeling, some serious, some almost funny. In any case, there were some fears he would never have thought of. Parvati's Boggart was a bloody, bandaged mummy, Seamus' was an Irish banshee whose scream made Harry's blood run cold. Ron's Boggart took the form of a giant spider, and Hermione's was an ugly mountain troll that looked strangely familiar to Harry.

Malfoy's Boggart looked familiar too, a dark, black flash of lightning hurtling towards him. Harry stifled a giggle as Malfoy staggered backwards, his face ashen, unable to ridicule the Boggart. In contrast, Tracey Davis' Boggart, whose turn it was next, didn't ring any bells for Harry. It was a stocky man with a half-bald head and dull brown eyes, dressed quite normally. A man like there were probably thousands of in Muggle London.

When it was Neville's turn, a wave of terror went through the classroom. For the Boggart had taken the form of none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, the infamous Death Eater and most notorious inmate of Azkaban since Black's escape. Her face was more skull than human, snow-white with eyes like burnt coals. Her hair was long and matted, and her sinister smile revealed dark yellow teeth. But worst of all was her gaze. It was filled with madness and a thirst for blood.

Neville backed away a little, wand raised. He was trembling. But suddenly there was a look of determination on his face, almost an expression of anger. In a firm voice he said, "Riddikulus!"

There was a sound like the crack of a whip. The false Bellatrix Lestrange screamed. There was a bird's nest in her matted hair, and her head and shoulders were covered in bird droppings.

Some people began to laugh, but they were few and their laughter sounded forced.

Professor Lupin shouted, "Daphne! Your turn!"

Daphne stepped forward. The other students were still processing the sight of Bellatrix Lestrange, but Harry was watching his best friend closely.

There was another crack, and where Bellatrix Lestrange had stood a moment ago, golden bars appeared, hanging in the air in front of Daphne. This did not surprise Harry at all. After all, Daphne had told him what her greatest nightmare was back in their first year.

"Riddikulus," she said almost casually.

The bars turned into worms. Then there was a loud smacking sound, and the worms were ripped apart as if by an invisible hand, and the cage collapsed in on itself.

Daphne giggled and stepped back as she gave him an amused smile. "This is fun."

Then it was finally Harry's turn. As he stepped forward, he felt every pair of eyes in the room on him.

There was another crack. The writhing worms disappeared, replaced by a hooded figure standing before him. Silver blood dripped down the figure and a foul stench emanated from it. The figure approached him slowly. Harry felt a slight pain in his forehead, but it was not a real pain, just an echo of the terrible pain that had tormented him when he had actually come face to face with this monster. Daphne and Firenze had saved him then, but there was no need for that now.

With a grim smile he said, "Riddikulus!"

Crack!

Ice formed at the Boggart's feet and it slipped and fell backwards to the ground. Harry laughed and there was more laughter behind him. Daphne had been right, this was fun!

Shortly afterwards Lupin finished the lesson. Harry thought it had been a great lesson, the best Defence lesson they had ever had. He wasn't the only one who thought so. There was excited chatter and laughter all around them as they stepped back into the still icy corridor.

Harry felt a hand on his arm. Hermione had stepped in front of him and her face was the only one that wasn't filled with joviality.

"Oh, Harry," she said, "that was the creature from the forest, wasn't it? In our first year."

Harry shrugged. "I suppose so."

He waited for Hermione to take her hand off his arm, but she did just the opposite. She closed the gap between them and hugged him, gently for her, but Harry was still irritated. A rosy scent rose to his nose. Was Hermione wearing perfume?

"Come on, Hermione," Daphne said from beside them. "Harry's a big boy and doesn't need to be mothered."

"I was just going to – Ahh!"

Hermione jumped back. A drop of melting ice had fallen from the ceiling onto her neck.

Harry saw Daphne stifle a smile and he barely managed to keep himself from laughing out loud, it looked so funny the way Hermione was shaking.

More and more drops fell from the ceiling and they hurried on. The icicles above them looked really dangerous and Harry didn't want to get impaled by the products of his own magic.

Just then, one of the icicles broke free and crashed to the ground just a few metres from them.

Ron gave Harry and Daphne a stern look. "If I die because of you, I'll kill you."

"You can try," Daphne replied.

Around the castle, the story of their battle and the demonstration of their magical abilities spread like wildfire. By dinner time, every last person had heard about it, and Harry thought he could feel the eyes of every single pair of eyes in the Great Hall on him. At one point he lost count of how many times he'd heard his name or Daphne's in the conversations of students who weren't even trying to be discreet. Even the older students, who last term had greeted the stories of two magically gifted second years with a healthy dose of scepticism and, in some cases, smiling dismissal, were now looking at them in amazement.

It would be a lie to say he didn't enjoy the admiration, Harry admitted to himself. It was a nice feeling. And Daphne enjoyed the admiration even more, for in the days that followed her walk became even more upright and her look even more confident and proud, if that was possible.

However, his Head of House confronted him immediately after the next Transfiguration lesson, and when Harry left the classroom a quarter of an hour later, his ears were still ringing from her speech.

"Irresponsible!" Professor McGonagall had told him, more than once. And, "I've never seen anything like that in all my time as a teacher. What if you had hurt someone? What if you had hurt each other? Did you even think for a second about what you were doing? It's not for nothing that magic is forbidden in the corridors, and by that I mean the run-of-the-mill spells we see every day, not this elemental magic you've unleashed! Where and when did you even learn that? You're thirteen, for God's sake! Or do you already think you're the next Merlin and Morgana and that the rules don't apply to you?"

But what really took Harry's breath away was that at the end of her speech, a smile had suddenly appeared on Professor McGonagall's lips. "Take twenty points for Gryffindor, though. For impressive magic."

Professor Flitwick even gave him fifty points when Harry closed the classroom window at his request a few days later.

"Thank you, Mr Potter," the little teacher said cheerfully. "It did get a bit chilly, almost as if winter had already come." His eyes twinkled mischievously, as if they had just told each other an inside joke.

Daphne reported similar things about her Head of House, at least that Snape had confronted her. But he had deducted points, from Gryffindor, oddly enough, and certainly not praised her.

"A showing off, bragging brat, he called me," she told him as they sat over their books in the Room of Requirement. "Am I showing off, Harry?"

"No, you're the most modest person I know," Harry replied, earning a satisfied nod from Daphne.

Otherwise, the school year continued on its course. Classes were picking up, the weather was slowly getting colder and the Quidditch teams were starting to train hard for the first matches of the new season. Ginny had actually made it onto the Gryffindor team as the new Seeker with her new broom, which made Harry very happy for her. And to celebrate, Mrs Weasley had sent all the Weasley children, as well as him and Daphne – Mrs Weasley didn't seem to have forgotten who had rescued Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets – packets of homemade chocolate biscuits.

Detention with Lupin meant that they continued to practise the Patronus Charm. Unfortunately, they were making no real progress. It was bizarre that Daphne and he, who usually learned any spell in no time at all, had so much trouble producing more than a silver mist, no matter how hard they tried, thinking of their happy memories. Maybe it really wasn't their kind of magic, as Daphne suspected. But they were also practising other spells that Lupin found interesting, and so the detention was more like a private Defence lesson.

When they weren't casting spells, Harry used the time to talk to Lupin about his parents. His teacher seemed to have countless stories to tell about them, each more interesting than the last, from the pranks they pulled at school to the fierce battle against the Death Eaters after they left. Only when it came to Sirius Black, Lupin was always very curt and refused to answer any further questions. Harry hadn't even been able to find out if Black had tried to become an Animagus like his father. And like himself. It made Harry proud to share that with his father.

And then their first Hogsmeade weekend came, and everyone around him started to go completely mad...

It began one evening as Harry sat in his dormitory with the other Gryffindor boys, talking late into the night as they had so many times before. But whereas their conversations had previously revolved around Quidditch, football – Dean was a huge West Ham United fan – or the quirks of their teachers, this time the topic was something completely different.

"Which girls in our year do you think are the hottest?" asked Seamus.

Neville nearly choked on his butterbeer, while Dean just rolled his eyes. "Figured something like that would come from you."

"What?" said Seamus. "Come on, I'm not the only one who looks at the girls. So tell me, who do you think is the prettiest?"

Harry was rather taken aback by the new topic of conversation. He tried to stay in the background, which he did at first, as Seamus' eyes bored into poor Neville.

"So, Nev, which charming witch would you like to get close to, eh?"

"Um... well," Neville stammered.

Seamus, Dean and Ron started to laugh.

"Does she have ginger hair, maybe?" asked Ron.

"That she wears in a long braid?" added Dean.

Seamus grinned at Neville. "And does she spend a suspicious amount of time with you in the greenhouses, where you're all alone and unsupervised to –"

"Yes, yes," Neville said, his head as red as an overripe tomato. "Yes, it's Susan. She is the prettiest witch of the year for me."

The others started to laugh, and this time even Harry joined in. It was somehow nice to see their shy friend so embarrassed, but at the same time so open and honest.

"Yes, dear Susan is really lovely," Seamus said, still grinning, and turned to the next person in the group. "And you, Dean?"

"You know very well," he replied nonchalantly. "Who has the softest caramel skin you can imagine? Whose eyes are as brown as the finest chestnuts? Whose smile makes even a troll's heart beat faster?"

"You are so horrible," Seamus laughed. "I hope Parvati has more sense than to ever get involved with you."

"Not fair, mate. Not fair. What happened to our promise to help each other win the hearts of the girls?"

"'Winning hearts' is what you were talking about," Seamus said. "I'm more interested in other body parts, if you know what I mean."

"You're such a pervert, Seamus," Ron laughed. "I think you need a cold shower more than anything."

"Thanks, I prefer my showers hot. But now you, Ron. Who are you voting for?"

"Um, I think Sue Li is kind of cute." Ron's ears blushed as he said this.

"Oh, she's way too smart for you," Dean said, which got him a pillow in the face from Ron.

Ron then turned to him. "Hey Harry, you haven't said anything all this time. Who do you think is the prettiest?"

Harry knew exactly who he thought was the prettiest of the girls, by a wide margin even, but he wouldn't think of discussing his feelings for his best friend with the boys. So he waved it off. "Let's go crash. McGonagall will make a mess of us if we oversleep tomorrow and –"

"Not like that, Harry," Seamus cut him off. His roommate looked at him amusedly, but his eyes twinkled dangerously, as if he were a predator and Harry his cornered prey. Somehow, Harry actually felt that way at the moment. "You're not getting out of here that easily. Everyone has answered, now you have to answer."

"You haven't answered yet," Harry said.

Seamus' answer came as quick as a shot. "Lavender. She's got the biggest tits and arse of the year. And now you!"

Seamus wasn't the only one, the others looked at him intently. Suddenly there was silence in the tower room. Hadn't the wind been howling outside a moment ago?

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I, er..."

"Yes?" Seamus asked.

He took a deep breath. It was all to no avail.

"Daphne," he said. "I think Daphne's the prettiest. Are you happy?"

Harry's heart was pounding in his chest as if it had run a race. But strangely, he also felt relieved. He had finally said out loud what had been going through his mind for months.

Ron's eyes widened in surprise before he frowned and finally nodded slightly, as if it made perfect sense now that he had thought about it. Neville, on the other hand, gave Harry a warm smile. And Dean and Seamus started to laugh.

"Oh, that's wonderful," Dean said. "Scary and dangerous, but wonderful."

Seamus nodded. "But I can understand Harry. There's something unique about Daphne. Maybe if she smiled a bit more and her tits got a bit bigger –"

"Okay, that's enough," Harry hissed. The back of his neck felt hot, but it was nothing compared to the searing heat that had gripped him at Seamus' words. "Don't you ever talk about her like that again!"

He didn't realise he'd picked up his wand until he pointed it at Seamus, a reddish glow at the tip.

Seamus raised his hands in appeasement. "Of course, mate. I will. No need to be angry."

Harry nodded firmly and put his wand down again. The others didn't seem to want to continue the conversation either, so they put the empty butterbeer bottles away, changed and got into their beds.

But Harry simply couldn't relax. Even after the snoring of his roommates had filled the dormitory for hours and the moon had moved far across the night sky, he still tossed and turned in his bed. His mind kept returning to the conversation, picking apart every single word. Especially Seamus'.

How dare he talk about her like that, he thought. She's not a piece of meat for him to ogle! If he says anything like that again, he will pay for it! The Cruciatus curse might be a bit much, but his bed would certainly burn well, especially with him tied to it.

The thought brought a smile to Harry's face and he finally managed to slip into Morpheus' realm.

But the next morning, Harry was clearly aware of his lack of sleep. He could have slept a little longer, like Ron and the other boys, but his body had become so accustomed to getting up at six o'clock sharp that it had woken up all by itself and he had been unable to go back to sleep, no matter how hard he had tried.

The early crow catches the worm, Daphne used to say, but at the moment, as Harry sat in the Great Hall, scowling at the piece of toast with jam in front of him, he couldn't get anything out of that saying.

Harry was so absorbed in his self-pity that he only noticed Hermione when she sat down opposite him. There weren't many people there yet, apart from them.

"Good morning," she greeted him as usual.

Harry just hummed in return, but Hermione didn't seem to mind. A bright smile spread across her face, revealing her white front teeth.

"Harry, I want to ask you something," she said.

He lifted his head and looked at his friend. After all, it was only polite to look at your conversation partner. "Of course, shoot."

"You know the first Hogsmeade weekend is coming up."

Harry nodded. He was actually looking forward to it. The older students always had great and funny things to say when they came back from the wizarding village, although Harry took Fred and George's stories with a grain of salt. Not for a moment did he believe them about Firewhisky being served to minors at the Three Broomsticks Inn.

"That's why I wanted to ask you," Hermione continued, taking his hand in hers, "that's why I wanted to ask you if we could go together?"

Harry squeezed her hand. "Sure, we can do that. Daph and I have some errands to run, but we can meet up later at the Three Broomsticks or something."

Was he imagining it, or did disappointment creep across Hermione's face? Either way, her facial muscles tightened and her hand clenched in his before she finally pulled it back. Had he said something wrong?

Ron's appearance, however, put an end to Harry's thoughts.

"Good morning, you two," Ron said as he sat down next to Hermione. He began to shovel bacon and fried eggs onto his plate. "I'm starving. What were you two talking about?"

"About Hogsmeade," Harry said.

"Oh, that's going to be great. We really must go to the Three Broomsticks. And Zonko's, of course. And there's supposed to be chocolate frogs as big as Bludgers at Honeydukes, and also..."

Ron couldn't stop raving about all the things to do in Hogsmeade. And so he went on and on, while Harry just nodded or smiled from time to time. Hermione was also unusually quiet as she ate her cereal slowly.

Later, Daphne finally came out of the dungeons and sat down next to Harry at the Gryffindor table. He noticed that she too had dark circles under her eyes.

"Bad night's sleep?" he asked her quietly.

Daphne replied just as quietly, "Apparently someone at the other end of the castle didn't get a wink of sleep and kept me up all night too..."

Harry felt a pang of guilt. Their bond, for all its immense benefits, sometimes had its drawbacks. He was about to apologise to Daphne when Hermione suddenly spoke.

"Hey, Daphne," she said across the table, her voice uncomfortably loud, as it seemed to Harry after his quiet conversation with Daphne. "Harry said you had some errands to run in Hogsmeade. What errands, if you don't mind me asking? After all, it's Harry who's paying for all your stuff."

Daphne lifted her head, and if Hermione's tone or question irritated her, she didn't show it. "I don't. I want to buy some silver for my enchantments and maybe some other metals and materials."

"What are you going to enchant?" asked Ron.

"Oh, the usual. Locks that rip your hand off when you try to open them and stuff like that."

Harry had to grin when he heard Daphne's reply. He was, of course, well aware of her sometimes dry sense of humour, unlike Ron, who stared at Daphne with a puzzled expression.

"Er, okay," he said. "Sounds exciting."

Then Ron suddenly frowned and looked past them. Harry turned his head to see a tall, blond Hufflepuff coming towards them with confident strides. It was Zacharias Smith from their year, and Harry honestly thought he was a rather arrogant busybody from what he had heard of him so far. So he could understand Ron's expression all too well. What could Smith want from them?

When Smith reached them, he just nodded briefly before his eyes fell on Daphne.

"Hey, Greengrass," he said. "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? We could go for a walk together and then I'll take you to dinner at the Magic Grove of Culinary Delights, it only opened last month and is supposed to be quite exquisite. What do you say?"

Heart pounding, Harry watched Daphne turn to Smith. She raised one of her dark eyebrows and said in a cool voice, "No."

With that, Daphne turned back to her breakfast and didn't dignify Smith with another look. Harry stifled a grin, which, judging by the twitching in his cheeks, was going more than badly.

Smith, on the other hand, stared at Daphne dumbfounded, as if he didn't know what to do with the answer. He opened and closed his mouth. Harry also turned his back on him and a moment later he heard him move away from their table. What an asshole. He had never liked him.

Daphne clicked her tongue quietly but said nothing more.

"Why didn't you say yes?" asked Hermione from across the table. "It sounded nice, didn't it?"

"I'd rather eat dirt than go out with someone like him," Daphne replied.

"Smith's an idiot," Ron agreed.

"But I'm sure there are others who would want to go out with you," Hermione continued. "Anthony Goldstein and Ernie MacMillan, for example, have looked you up before, and they're both really nice. And a lot smarter than Smith."

Harry winced. He hadn't noticed that before! But surely Daphne wouldn't –

Before Harry could finish the thought, Daphne clicked her tongue again, louder this time. "No, thank you. And I already have a charming companion for Hogsmeade."

"Are you sure you won't miss an opportunity?" asked Hermione. "You're very popular with the boys."

"Don't do that, Hermione. Or I'll get angry with you." A hint of coldness had crept into Daphne's voice and Hermione seemed wise enough not to pursue the subject any further.

They continued to eat in silence.

But Harry kept glancing at Daphne out of the corner of his eye, even though her face was hidden behind the curtain of her pitch-black hair. They were sitting so close together that he felt the scent of her hair wafting into his nose. The pleasant scent of pine needles with a hint of lemongrass that Harry associated with warmth and security. Which he had learned to associate with warmth and security.

He had known since last term that he had a crush on Daphne. And through their bond, he also suspected that his feelings were reciprocated. Something was going to happen, they both knew it, they just seemed to be waiting for the right moment.

Just then, Daphne turned her head slightly. She looked at him, her lips curved in an almost imperceptible smile. There was a greenish glint in her golden eyes.

Instinctively, Harry smiled back.

Yes, something would happen soon, he was sure of it.