A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her associates. Please support the official release.
History of Magic
The pleasant buzz of early morning conversations filled the classroom as the students waited for Professor Binns to make his appearance. It was a lazy kind of Friday – the kind where you can feel the weekend approaching just beyond the horizon, effectively annihilating any motivation for academic endeavors.
Harry and Neville had been the first of their usual quartet to show up that morning. They had (naturally) chosen to go for the only two available seats at the very back, leaving Hermione and Luna to capture a desk further up once they arrived.
At the moment, Harry was happily zoning out as he unintentionally eavesdropped on Ginny Weasley and her friend-turned-boyfriend Dean Thomas, who seemed to be having a rather heated debate about Quidditch. His involuntary snooping soon came to an abrupt end, however, as Neville grabbed his attention with a question.
"Uhm… Harry?" Neville asked, in a timid sort of voice that quivered slightly at the end.
"Yes, Neville?" Harry replied from behind drowsy eyelids, turning to face his Gryffindor companion. The black-haired boy wore a distinctly anxious-looking expression as his eyes darted back and forth between Harry and his desk, a crimson tint coloring his cheeks.
"I… I have a q-question…" he gulped.
"Fire away," Harry nodded, inwardly wondering just what had his friend so riled up. He couldn't think of anything he had done to warrant such a reaction. Well, at least not recently.
"W-Well… It's about Luna," Neville started, chewing on his lower lip in consternation. "She and I… We're… We're kinda seeing each other. I think. I hope."
"Wait… You're dating?" Harry asked, perking up at the revelation. "I mean… I saw you guys at the Yule Ball and everything, but… that quickly? Way to go, Nev!"
"O-Oh, it was… I don't…" Neville stammered, eyes lowering to stare at the ground as a happy smile tugged at his lips. "I… I just couldn't hold it in any longer. I had to tell her how I felt. And so I c-confessed to her two days ago, in the Owlery."
"The… Owlery?" Harry blinked. "Uhh… Why there, of all places? In the freezing cold, surrounded by bird shit?"
"W-Well…" Neville started, looking thoroughly embarrassed. "I needed somewhere we could be alone, and it… it just seemed like a good idea at the time!"
"Fair enough," Harry shrugged. "Knowing Luna, she probably thought it was super romantic either way."
"Uhh… I think she did? I… I might have… Well, I was e-extremely nervous, and so I kinda… ended up screaming at her?"
There was a moment of silence as Harry's brain processed this peculiar piece of information.
"You… screamed at the woman you were confessing to?" Harry asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"I didn't mean to! It just… happened," Neville sighed, lowering his head onto the wooden desk. "The confession… came out a lot louder than it was supposed to."
"So… how did she respond?" Harry said, suddenly feeling slightly apprehensive. "Did she reject you?"
"No. I don't… think she did, at least? After letting me rant on for a few minutes, she kind of just… grabbed my shoulders, told me I was s-sweet and gave me a hug. And then h-held my hand as we walked back to the castle."
"Well, there you have it," Harry smiled. "Sounds like mission accomplished to me."
"I suppose…" Neville breathed. "There was… a moment, however, after we hugged, where I feel like I should have done something, but… but I didn't have the courage."
"Done something?" Harry asked. "Done what?"
"That's… what I wanted to ask you about, actually," Neville hesitated. "Uhh… How… How did you… you know… when you and H-Hermione first got together?"
The blush on Neville's face only deepened in tandem with the growing silence that followed his question.
"Are… Are you asking me about my first kiss, Neville?" Harry grinned, enjoying the incredible levels of embarrassment currently present in the boy's features.
"Uhh… Ahh… M-Maybe?" Neville responded, doing his best to avoid meeting Harry's eyes.
"Wow," Harry laughed. "Will wonders never cease?"
"I'm seriously asking for your advice, Harry," Neville said, fighting a losing battle against his own nervousness. "I'm way out of my d-depth here."
"Hey, I feel you, brother," Harry smiled. "I was just as lost when I started dating Hermione. The trick is to not overthink it. To just… go with the flow, kinda."
"G-Go with the flow?" Neville blinked. "And how do I do that?"
"See, now you're overthinking it," Harry smirked. "If you have to ask how to go with the flow, then you're not really going with the flow, are you?"
"I… I don't get it," Neville admitted, his face scrunched up in confusion.
"Look," Harry sighed. "You like Luna, right?"
Neville nodded.
"And you want to kiss her?"
Another nod, albeit a slightly more embarrassed-looking one.
"Then… just kiss her," Harry finished with a grin. "When you feel the opportunity present itself, like it did in the Owlery. I can promise that Luna won't shut you down."
"… R-Really?" Neville said, eyes going wide. "You promise?"
"Yes, Neville," Harry laughed. "I promise. Now stop being so nervous. She's basically your girlfriend, for Merlin's sake!"
"Yeah…" Neville smiled. "I… I suppose she is, huh… Thank you, Harry. I really appreciate it."
"No problem, mate," Harry nodded. "Now pay attention; class is about to begin."
As if on cue, Professor Binns came floating through the blackboard at the front of the classroom, his thick glasses pushed so far down his wrinkly nose that it was a small wonder they didn't fall off. As soon as he made his entrance, Harry noted a number of students assume semi-comfortable sleeping positions on their desks, with some even producing pillows to rest their heads on.
Such blatant disregard for the lecture would no doubt have been impossible in any other class, but luckily enough for them, Professor Binns was notoriously inattentive when it came to his students. He would drone on and on about various Goblin Rebellions and Giant wars for hours on end, no matter how many of his students were actually paying attention, or were even awake, for that matter.
Casting a quick glance up towards Hermione and Luna's row, Harry was not surprised to find his ever-studious girlfriend fully prepared to take notes on Binns' lecture, parchment and quill at the ready. A smile ghosted across his lips at the sight. She was probably one of the few students in this classroom who would get an Outstanding in this subject on her OWLs, as practically nobody else (including him) cared enough to do anything but the absolute minimum.
Next to her, Luna was spending her time diligently studying the textbook, "A History of The Goblin Rebellions", though Harry couldn't say she would get much out of it, seeing as she was holding the book upside-down.
Watching Hermione fiddle around with her quill, Harry was suddenly struck by an idea he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of earlier. He should buy all of them fountain pens, or at least self-inking quills, so that they didn't have to waste any more time dipping their quills in inkwells. Godric knew Hermione could use one at least, given how many notes she took on a daily basis.
Filing the idea away for future reference, he allowed himself to slip into a comfortable stupor, the droning sound of Professor Binns' voice acting as white noise to his listless thoughts.
"-rry."
"Mhrmph…"
"Harry."
"Ugh…" Harry groaned, having been ripped from his dreams by the unknown sound.
"Harry!"
"Ah, I'm up, I'm up," he complained, opening his eyes to the disapproving glare of his closest companion, Hermione Granger. All around them, students were slowly filtering out of the classroom, tired-looking faces drifting past as they converged on the exit.
"Class is over, Harry," Hermione explained, arms clutching a small stack of books. "Not that you would know, seeing as you fell asleep roughly 10 minutes into the lecture."
"That I did," Harry nodded, yawning as he stretched out his sore back. "And what brilliant sleep it was."
"You should be paying attention, Harry," Hermione sighed. "No matter how boring you find the subject. I know that Professor Binns isn't exactly the most… engaging teacher, but that hardly means you should treat his class as an excuse to catch up on lost sleep."
"You are aware that most people refer to History of Magic as 'Naptime with Professor Binns', right?" Harry smirked, rising from his seat to fix her with an amused stare.
"Yes, I do, but you are not most people."
"Hermione…" he smiled. "Just give it up. We both know that I'm not going to take History of Magic seriously, outside of the mandatory assignments. Besides, I'm not the straight-A student here. You're ahead of me in most classes, aren't you?"
A tiny blush sprouted on her cheeks as she tightened her grip on her schoolbooks.
"I'm only ahead of you because I spend more time studying than you do."
"True, but that's not all," Harry nodded. "It's also because you're more intelligent than me, and quicker on the uptake. Not to mention beautiful."
"… You're a prat and a flirt, Harry Potter," Hermione grumbled, doing her best to prevent the burgeoning smile from reaching her lips.
"And you're a worrywart," Harry shot back.
"Now that I can agree with," she smirked. "Anyway, I have something for you. Just… have to…"
Harry watched with curious eyes as Hermione precariously shuffled around the books in her arms, in an effort to free up one of her hands. To her great horror, however, she couldn't quite balance them, and so the top two books came crashing down towards the floor. Right before they made impact, however, they suddenly stopped in mid-air, as if suspended by some invisible force.
"Uhh… What?" Hermione blinked, wide eyes regarding the now-stationary books with a healthy level of skepticism. "I… I didn't do that."
"No, you didn't. I did," Harry replied, before carefully placing the two books back on the pile with a wave of his hand. "Wordless Wingardium Leviosa," he explained once he noticed the confused look Hermione was sending him.
"Ohh, right," she breathed. "I forget you can do things like that now."
"Pretty cool, right?" Harry grinned.
"Yeah, yeah," Hermione scoffed. "I would've been able to do it too, if you'd let me perform the Ritual."
"True," Harry nodded sagely. "You'd also be dead though, so that's kinda counter-productive."
"… Fair point."
"Yes."
There was a moment of silence then, before Hermione seemingly remembered what she had been about to do prior to the books falling.
"Ah, I almost forgot. Here. Take this."
Digging through the folds of her robes with her now free hand, she produced a closed envelope with his name written on the front.
"Uhh… Okay? What is it though? A love letter, perhaps?" Harry asked, accepting the envelope with some hesitation. "Because if so, I'm flattered, but I'm kinda seeing someone."
"Prat," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I don't know what it is. I got it from Anthony Goldstein, who in turn got it from Tracey Davis."
"Tracey Davis?" Harry asked, surprise evident in his tone. "As in… the Fourth Year Slytherin girl?"
"Yes."
"… What could she possibly want with me?" he frowned. "I don't think we've ever had a proper conversation before. Unless you count insults. Then we've had plenty."
"Don't ask me," Hermione said. "It'll probably say in the letter. You'll have to read it and tell me."
"Of course," Harry nodded. The fact that he would be sharing the contents of the letter with Hermione was a bygone conclusion. There were no secrets between the two of them. Not anymore, at least.
"Did either of you need anything?" Professor Binns called out from the front of the classroom. Turning to face him, Harry quickly noticed that him and Hermione seemed to be the only two students left.
"Uh, no, Professor Binns," he said. "We were just discussing some… Quidditch stuff. We'll leave now."
"Ah, I see. Well, better be on your way then," the ghost responded, before grabbing his incorporeal book and vanishing through a nearby wall.
"He's right, we really should get going, Harry," Hermione frowned. "Or we'll be late for Potions."
"Oh, right. What a tragedy that would be," Harry retorted, before following her out of the classroom, the unknown envelope burning a metaphorical hole in his robe-pocket.
The rest of the afternoon passed by in a blur of motion and activity. Before Harry even knew what was happening, he was finished with Potions and back in the Room of Requirement, sitting on his bed with the strange envelope in his hand. He ripped it open nary a second later, and pulled out the contents for closer inspection. Truth be told, there wasn't much to discover.
Inside the envelope was a piece of parchment with a single line written on it: Abandoned classroom, third-floor corridor, Saturday at 17:00.
And so it was that Harry found himself in the third-floor corridor, the following Saturday at 17:00. The wait had not been long – only a day to find out who the mystery sender was.
A loud creaking sound filled the classroom as Harry pushed open the door, the torches behind him casting long shadows across the stone tiles. He remained in the doorway for just a moment, as his eyes scanned the interior and took notice of the two people waiting for him in the middle of the room. It would appear the letter had indeed been an invitation to some kind of meeting, and not just a practical joke.
The first person was expected – Tracey Davis. Medium-length brown hair ran down a slender back that stood taut with suspense. Grey eyes swiveled about the room, as if scanning for the closest emergency exit.
The second person caused Harry to do a double take.
Daphne Greengrass; the blonde-haired, pureblood beauty that was the pride and joy of Slytherin House. A beacon of erudition, knowledge, and magnificence, she reigned supreme at the top of her class, far above the rest of her peers. The only one in their Year who could rival her in academia was Hermione.
Her ocean-blue eyes locked onto his with relentless intensity the moment she noticed him enter the room. A tense facial expression accompanied the stare – almost as if she was expecting him to draw his wand at any second. Needless to say, it was incredibly unnerving, even if Harry didn't let it show on his face.
"Potter," she said once he got a bit closer. "You came."
"Greengrass," Harry nodded, coming to a halt a couple of steps away from the two girls. "How surprising to see you here. I was under the impression that it was Tracey who wanted to see me – not you."
Tracey gave a silent "yeah, as if", before gesturing towards Daphne. She seemed fully intent on letting her blonde-haired friend do the talking.
"Yes, well…" Daphne frowned. "With the situation being what it is… Certain precautions had to be taken."
"The situation?" Harry asked, purposefully ignoring Tracey's snide remark. "What situation?"
"The one I currently find myself trapped in," she continued, letting out an almost imperceptible sigh. "One involving a certain individual who… well, let's just say, isn't exactly the ideal partner."
"Partner?" Harry blinked, truly confused with the direction this conversation seemed to be taking. "Uhh… as in… romance partner?"
There was a moment of silence as Daphne regarded him with an apprehensive look. Then, she let her shoulders drop a bit, before opening her mouth to speak.
"Yes," she sighed. "Precisely that."
"Well… that's unfortunate, I guess? I, uhh… I'm sorry to hear that your boyfriend isn't treating you right, but… I fail to see how that has anything to do with me," Harry continued, choosing his words carefully. An annoyed frown fixed itself on Daphne's face as he finished talking.
"He's not my boyfriend," she denied. "Not yet, at least. And I would prefer it if things could stay that way. Permanently."
"So… you're not dating?" Harry asked. Daphne shook her head. "Then… I fail to see the issue. And, subsequently, why I am even here in the first place."
"Allow me to explain," Daphne said. "A couple of days ago, a certain individual approached me after dinner in the Slytherin common room. This individual is a person whom - much to my chagrin - I have been spending an annoying amount of time with lately. Therefore, I thought nothing special of it. But then… he came with a proposal. He wanted to go on a date with me."
"Uhh… Okay?" Harry said, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "You… said no, I presume?"
"No, of course I didn't," Daphne scoffed. "You don't say no to a Malfoy. Everyone knows that."
"Wait… Malfoy? As in… Draco Malfoy?" Harry gasped.
"Yes," Daphne nodded.
"W-Why… Why would you…" Harry stuttered, quite unable to believe what he was hearing.
"Why would I agree to go on a date with him, despite the fact that he is a despicable ferret of the highest order?" Daphne asked, the traces of a pained smile tugging on her lips.
"YES," Harry practically screamed.
"Because I have no other choice," she sighed. "His name holds too much weight. As a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, I have to treat him with respect. Especially considering the current political climate, with his father, Lucius Malfoy, being so close with the Minister."
"What?" Harry asked. "Politics like that actually matter? Here at Hogwarts?"
"Of course they matter," Daphne said, staring at him as if he had just said the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. "Especially in Slytherin. Honestly… How can you possibly be this dense?"
"Hey, no need for insults," Harry grunted. "I'm just not used to the cloak-and-dagger world you Slytherins seem to live in."
"Yes, well… That is neither here nor there," Daphne continued, crossing her arms. "The reality is that I am forced to accompany Draco Malfoy on a date to Hogsmeade this coming weekend. Needless to say, I am not looking forward to it."
"Better you than me," Tracey grimaced. "I'd probably hex him halfway to heaven as soon as he tried to flirt with me."
"We both know that's a luxury I can't afford, Tracey," Daphne breathed. Harry sensed from the way she said it that this was a topic they had discussed several times in the past. "Since I carry the Greengrass name, I am expected to behave in a manner befitting my station. This means that I can't just hex Draco, no matter how badly I might want to."
"Yes, I know, it's just…" Tracey sighed, a frown etched on her face. "I hate seeing you like this, Daph. Being forced to do something I know you despise. It hurts."
An uncharacteristically warm smile spread itself across Daphne's features, as she turned to regard her best friend with loving eyes.
"I could never ask for a better friend than you, Tracey. I can always count on you."
"Nah, it should be the other way around," Tracey scoffed. "I should be thanking you. A scion of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Greengrass hanging around with a half-blood… Truly, a tale for the ages."
"You know I don't care for such things, Tracey," Daphne said.
"Yeah, yeah…"
"Uhm… still here, by the way," Harry interjected, drawing the attention of both girls.
"Don't remind me," Tracey sneered. "I could smell your stench from miles away."
"Why are you even here?" Harry shot back, irritation seeping into his voice. "Daphne was the one who actually wanted to talk to me, right? So if you've got nothing nice to say, you're more than welcome to leave."
"And leave Daphne on her own? In an empty classroom with you? Yeah, not gonna happen."
"You say that as if I'm going to assault her or something."
"Who knows, maybe you will?"
A maelstrom of anger burst forth from the depths of Harry's mind, threatening to break the fragile grip he held on his emotions. Thankfully, Daphne raised her voice before he had the chance to do something he might regret.
"Tracey!" she gasped, sending her friend an appalled look. "You can't just say things like that!"
"… Alright, fine," Tracey growled, flushing a slight tint of red as she averted her eyes. "Whatever. You're the one who wanted to talk to him. So talk."
"Ahh… I apologize for Tracey's behavior. Things in Slytherin are a bit… tense, at the moment," Daphne said, turning to address Harry.
"It's… fine," Harry breathed. "I shouldn't have expected anything else from her either way."
"Oh yeah? What's that supposed to mean then?" Tracey snorted, before a stern look from Daphne shut her down again.
"I still don't understand how I fit into all of this," Harry shrugged.
"Allow me to explain, then," Daphne nodded. "When I go to Hogsmeade with Draco next weekend, I want you to interrupt our date."
"Interrupt your date?" Harry asked. "Why me? Couldn't you just get Tracey here to do that?"
"Tracey can't possibly move against Draco," Daphne denied. "Things are already bad enough for her in Slytherin as is, with her being a half-blood and all."
"A lesser creature like me isn't supposed to get in the way of superior purebloods like Malfoy," Tracey scoffed. "If I did, there would be hell to pay."
"Seriously?" Harry gaped. "What kind of twisted nuthouse is Snape running over there in Slytherin?"
"Politics are politics," Daphne shrugged. "For better or for worse. There isn't anything we can do to change it – it's been this way for generations. The best we can hope for is to attract as little unwanted attention to ourselves as possible, by observing the rules of the game."
"You can't possibly believe that," Harry said.
"What I believe is irrelevant," Daphne replied, a hint of resignation present in her voice. "Anyway, we've strayed far from the topic we came here to discuss. The question remains; are you in or are you out, Potter?"
"I don't even know what I'm supposed to be in on," Harry said. "You've told me that you want me to interrupt your date with Draco – which is fair enough – but I still don't understand why you've chosen me specifically."
"Because out of every student in this school, you are the only one he fears," Daphne explained.
"Seriously?" Harry blinked. "He's… afraid of me?"
"Of course he is. Not only did you kill a literal dragon using your own blood in the Triwizard Tournament, but you also beat him to within an inch of his life last time you ran into one another in Hogsmeade," Daphne smirked. "Which I suppose I should thank you for, by the way. It was about time someone finally knocked him down a peg or two."
"Oh, believe me; it was my pleasure," Harry scoffed. "Little weasel had it coming."
"I do not doubt that for a second," Daphne nodded. "Either way, in return for your assistance with Draco, I'm willing to share some… rather time-sensitive information with you, that I have reason to believe you would be most interested in."
"Oh?" Harry asked. "And what makes you say that?"
"Woman's intuition," she smiled.
"… You and Hermione have a lot in common, you know that?" Harry sighed. "You're both total menaces when you want to be."
"Oh, don't give me that, Potter," she said. "I'll even throw in an extra favor for you if you say yes. And you don't know how useful a favor from me can be."
"Ugh… Alright, sure," Harry grunted after a moment of silence. "Fine. I guess I'll help you. I don't see any real downsides for me in this, after all. Besides, it'll give me another opportunity to mess with Malfoy."
"Much appreciated," Daphne nodded. "Then we'll meet outside this classroom after lunch next Saturday. That should give us some time to prepare before the date."
"Sounds good," Harry said, before a sudden question popped into his mind, which he decided to give voice to. "Although, I kinda have to ask; why are you being so… polite with me?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Daphne blinked. "Despite what people are saying about you, you are still the head of House Potter, and that is a name that carried weight even before your victory against the Dark Lord. Besides, it's not like you've done something to upset me. Well, apart from the blood Basilisk. That was, admittedly, rather creepy."
"So… you're doing it for political clout, then?" Harry asked, a dry smile on his lips.
"Maybe," Daphne shrugged. "Or maybe not. I observe the game, Potter. It's high time you learned how to play."
A scoff was all she got in response. She seemed to be satisfied with this, however, as she gave him a short curtsy, before swiftly moving past him towards the exit without so much as a single look back. Tracey promptly hurried to catch up with her, but not before sending Harry one last glare on the way out.
How those two ended up as friends, I'll never know, Harry thought to himself with a sigh. Man… For some reason, I can't help but feel like I've made some kind of mistake here.
The empty classroom gave no answer to his unspoken question.
Ahh… Serpentine acquaintances indeed…
A/N: No "Ice Queen" Daphne here, and no long A/Ns either. It's 02:00 AM and man is tired. Can't be bothered to write much more today. Apologies for the wait, had some uni stuff to work through + social events to attend.
Oh, and Tracey has grey eyes in this one. Yup.
If you enjoyed the read, please be sure to leave a review. And I'll see you guys again in the next chapter. Twisted out.