When I left the hospital wing, I was torn between either finding Daphne and patching things up once and for all, or trying to get the map back from Zabini. In the end, I decided to kill two birds with one stone, and went to the Room of Requirement instead to get a new Marauder's Map. The Room was empty when I got there. I let out a sigh; another meeting missed. It took a minute, but I managed to get another duplicate of the map and headed out.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," I muttered as I exited the room. Black, inky lines streaked across the old parchment and moving dots brought it to life. I started scanning the map for the Daphne, but something else caught my eye. A large group of people coming out of Classroom 17, most of them Slytherins. Zabini, Pansy, Rachel, Crabbe and Goyle (damn, I'd forgotten about those two guys) were just a few notable ones. Looks like the DA weren't the only ones holding special meetings in the castle anymore…
With a roster like that, this was probably some kind of Death Eater fanclub, or maybe an unofficial continuation of last year's Inquisitorial Squad. But what really caught me by surprise was seeing Anastasia among them. She hadn't struck me as the type… but then again, I did barely know her. This little Death Eater Youth Program could be an issue, and one I'd tackle soon enough, but now I needed to find Daphne. Scanning the map carefully, I spotted her name entering the library and headed off, almost half-sprinting my way there. I closed the map and stuffed it inside my pocket before entering the library. Daphne was sitting in a relatively secluded corner of the library, her face buried in a thick, green book. Her brow was furrowed and she was pouting slightly. It was the face she made whenever she was trying to concentrate on something and not making a lot of progress, and it was adorable.
"Hey," I said as I sat down next to her.
"Hey," she said, without looking up from her book.
"Can we talk? Properly?"
"Well we are in the library, so I doubt Madame Pince would appreciate it," she muttered, again without looking up.
"Well, let's go somewhere else then," I suggested.
"Can't, I have to work on the essay for Slughorn."
"I already finished it, you can copy from me later."
She sighed and finally looked up at me. "What do you want, Draco?"
"I told you, I want to talk."
"About…?"
"Well… thanks," I said. "For earlier today."
"Don't mention it," she said. "Now, is that all?"
"No," I said. "Look, we need to decide, about us."
She sighed. "Alright, I suppose..."
"Look, I'm sorry about what I said, back on the pitch. I… I was angry and- look, I didn't mean what I said, okay? And I feel like crap about it."
Daphne looked at me for a few moments before she spoke in a low voice.
"I know you're sorry," she said. "And… I'm sorry too, for dodging you all those times you tried to talk."
There was something about the way she said those words, the stiffness in her tone. Almost like… she had been expecting something else, and was disappointed I didn't say it. Or maybe I had just imagined that bit, but nevertheless, I could tell this conversation wasn't complete. So, I figured if I was trying to make up with her, I might as well spit it out. It might end up making her even more upset – heck, it probably would – but at least there wouldn't be any more secrets.
"And, one more thing," I said. I hesitated for a second, then said, "A few nights ago, me and… Hermione…"
"I know, Draco."
I blinked.
"You… know?"
She nodded.
"I'm sorry, Daphne," I said. "I know I acted like a selfish prick, and you deserve better-"
"Okay, stop," she cut me off. "Don't say you're sorry. I know you are, okay? You don't have to tell me that. And don't call yourself a selfish prick either, you're not. You… made a mistake. Hermione made a mistake. Whatever it was… I don't care anymore."
"Wait, so- you're… not mad at me?"
"Mad at you? I dunno… I think not?" she said. "I was angry, for a while. I'm a bit better now, I think. I'm just… really tired of not knowing where we are anymore. What we are."
"What do you want us to be, then?"
She looked at me. "What do you want us to be?"
"Whatever you want."
"Draco-" she started but I cut her off.
"I'm serious," I said. "I'm fine with whatever you decide. Honest. Besides, this whole mess is my fault. I owe you the right to decide what happens next."
Daphne sighed and fell into thought. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally spoke.
"I think…" she said, then hesitated again.
"Yes?"
"I think maybe we should… give this – give us – a break. A proper, official break, not like the past couple of weeks."
My heart sank. I had anticipated that she'd say something like this, but it still stung. But I collected myself, and nodded.
"I understand."
Daphne opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing, and instead just gave a weak sort of nod.
"Well, I'll see you around, I guess," I said quietly, and left the library, getting a sharp look from the librarian Madame Pince on the way out. Guess she had noticed me and Daphne talking. I shook my head; we hadn't even made that much noise.
With no particular destination in mind, I just began walking in a random direction. I understood why Daphne wanted some time apart, and I respected her decision. But I was still bummed about it. A small, naïve, stupid part of me had hoped that maybe, just maybe she might want to get back, but that was obviously not the case. Daphne was wholly in the right for wanting a break. It was difficult, not knowing how long that break would last, or if it might evolve into a break-up. That last thought was scary, and it only made me angrier at myself.
Merlin's balls, why had I been such a dick?
[…]
After Draco left the library, Daphne tried to focus on her work again, but simply couldn't concentrate. After all the frustration and misery that she had experienced in the past few weeks, here had been her chance to finally fix things. To make them the way they used to be, when all had been well.
And she had thrown it away.
She wanted to slam her head into the table. Why, why had she said she wanted a break? WHY had she driven Draco away when all she had wanted for the past few weeks was to be together with him again? Was it because he had kissed Hermione? Daphne wasn't sure. She had been angry at the incident, and hurt. And she had taken it out to an extent, on Hermione at the DA meeting. She had felt a bit lighter after that. And Draco was genuinely guilty about kissing her, there was no doubt about it. He had even confessed the incident to her entirely of his own volition (of course, it was possible that Hermione had perhaps told him Daphne knew, and he'd only confessed because of that, but that didn't seem likely given the timeline of the evening's events).
Truth be told, Daphne had never been one to keep grudges for long. She just couldn't bring herself to stay angry over something for long. With Draco, after the initial angry blaze had been extinguished, a cold, empty loneliness had replaced it. Daphne had never minded being alone, and in spite of having some friends, she had usually preferred her own company over theirs. But then Draco had entered her life, and she had become so dependent on him. Spending time with him, talking to him, kissing him had become the highlight of her life, her biggest reason to get out of bed in the morning.
And now, without that, she was lonely, and for the first time it actually bothered her.
So why had she turned Draco away just now?
Sure, the angry blaze had briefly rekindled that night on the balcony, but even that had died down now. Perhaps seeing Draco so vulnerable earlier that evening had made it harder for her to be angry at him. Perhaps his apology just now had done the trick. But even after all that, it still hadn't felt right to get back with him, contrary to everything she had wanted – or thought she wanted – the past few weeks. Daphne had no clue as to why; perhaps some unresolved, unspoken conflict still remained in her heart – words too complicated to even formulate, let alone speak.
Truth was, she really did need a some more time. It was weird, it was complicated, and it made no bloody sense.
In a vain attempt to shake off these difficult thoughts, Daphne turned her attention back to her essay, but after five minutes gave it up as a bad job. Well, maybe Draco might still be willing to let her copy the work. She checked her watch. It was nearly dinner time, but she wasn't particularly hungry, so she decided to return to the common room instead.
Everyone must have left for dinner already, because the handsome, dimly-lit room was empty when she got there. She wanted to go to her dormitory and crash, but then an idea crossed her mind. Zabini had taken the map from Draco. The common room was empty. She could snoop around and maybe, just maybe recover the map. Zabini didn't know how valuable it was, nor did he know it was a map, so it was possible he may have left it lying around.
She instead turned towards Draco's dormitory. Thankfully it was empty inside. Daphne took out her wand and muttered, "Accio Map!" but nothing happened. For good measure, she tried again, but again nothing. Daphne sighed. It had been a long shot anyway. If Zabini had taken the map, he probably thought it was something useful to Draco. He'd know better than to leave it lying around.
Dejected, Daphne went to the bathroom to change and freshen up. As she was washing her face, she felt something – someone's hand – trace her lower back in a rather intimate manner, which caught her by surprise, to say the least. She instinctively swung around and backhanded the person in the face.
"OW- WHAT THE FUCK-!" the person, a dark-haired girl, yelled in surprise. "OH- Oh, fuck, it's you."
Daphne got a better look at the girl – it was Anastasia, the exchange student from somewhere in eastern Europe that Daphne couldn't quite recall.
"What the hell were you doing?!" Daphne demanded angrily.
"I'm sorry, I got the wrong sister!" Anastasia said, rubbing her face where she had been slapped.
"Wrong sister?" Daphne said, puzzled. "Were you… looking for Astoria?"
"Yes," Anastasia said. "You two look alike. A lot."
Daphne didn't say anything. She was bewildered by how she hadn't noticed the other girl enter, but chalked it up to her own absent-mindedness.
"Not that alike…" she said.
"My bad…" Anastasia shrugged. Daphne moved past her to leave, but Anastasia stopped her.
"What?" Daphne said, stopping at the door.
"You've looked, well, a bit like shit these past few days," Anastasia said. "Tori said you and Draco had some argument? Not that it's any of my business… but um, y'know, if you ever need to vent or anything."
To her own surprise, Daphne debated telling her. On one hand, she barely knew Anastasia, and didn't really feel comfortable unloading all her personal problems on the girl that had just groped her (even if she had mistaken her for someone else), but on the other hand, Daphne really didn't have anyone to vent to (she would vent to Astoria, but she knew that that girl's attention span was not up to the task), and god knows she needed to vent.
"It's a long story…"
"I got time," she said.
Daphne sighed. "Okay, but… promise me you won't tell anyone, ok?"
Anastasia nodded. "Of course, I promise."
And so Daphne let it all out. The whole mess. Anastasia listened, and occasionally gave a small reaction, but never interrupted. It felt… good, to get it out, definitely relieved some tension. It was bizarre how much Daphne had bottled up inside her for how long.
"…wow," Anastasia said when Daphne was done, looking slightly overwhelmed.
"I know… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have dumped it on you like that." Daphne said.
"No, it's fine," Anastasia said gently. "I asked you to, remember? And besides, you needed that."
"…thanks, Anastasia."
"No problem," she said with a smile. "You know… you two are quite different from what I expected."
"Oh, really? How so?"
"Well, I expected you to be a bit of an… shall we say, an ice queen? Ever so slightly a bitch? But you're quite a bit more sensitive, not in a bad way. Kind, even."
Daphne let out a laugh. She hadn't been expecting that kind of blunt honesty, but she respected that.
"Honestly? In retrospect, I was a bit of a bitch up till the fourth year," Daphne said. "But then someone treated me like shit and I realized 'wow… this is horrible'… so yeah I guess I changed a bit after that."
"For the better," Anastasia said. Just then her stomach gave a loud grumble, and she flushed a bit in embarrassment.
"Oh- crap," Daphne said, slapping her forehead. "I'm so sorry! You're missing dinner, I-"
"Girl, relax, there's still half an hour left till dinner ends," Anastasia said, as she began moving towards the door of the common room.
"Wait, Anastasia…" Daphne called out. "Just one more thing."
"Yes?" she said, pausing at the doorway.
"You said Draco was also different from what you expected… how?"
"Well, let's say he's just the complete opposite," she said.
And with that, she left the common room.
[…]
When I entered the Great Hall for dinner, I quickly scanned the Slytherin table for Nott. Since the kerfuffle with Daphne, I'd been spending most of my mealtimes sitting with him. For the most part we just talked about the Leonidas Black mystery novel series, which was pretty much our only shared interest. But he wasn't there tonight. Odd, and unfortunate as well. I did spot Astoria though, and she had an empty seat beside her.
She looked a bit dejected, as if she was disappointed over something. She also looked a bit thin and paler than usual.
"Hey, Tori," I said as I walked up to her.
"Oh, hi, Draco," she said a bit absently, though with a polite smile.
"Is, uh… is this seat taken?"
"Oh, um…" She glanced at the empty space beside her. "I'm saving it for Anastasia… she should be here any minute… sorry."
"No problem," I said, although this was, in fact, a bit of a problem. Sitting anywhere else on the Slytherin table wouldn't be a pleasant experience, seeing as how the most of the house hated me.
And then, a solution appeared.
The house hated me.
There were four houses.
Three of which did not hate me.
I could sit at one of them.
I'm a genius.
Naturally I checked out the Gryffindor table first, where, as luck would have it, there was a spot available near the trio. Harry actually saw me sort of hovering between the tables and beckoned me to join them, so I came over and sat down next to him. Ron and Hermione were sitting across from us. Hermione did sort of avert her gaze when I sat down, but otherwise it was nice of them to invite me over.
We started chatting. Well, mostly me and Harry. I still don't think Ron had fully warmed up to me, and Hermione was… well. Anyways, we talked about the next match, Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw. Truthfully, I hadn't really thought much about inter-house quidditch much lately, for obvious reasons, but it was honestly nice to talk about something normal for once. From school quidditch the conversation turned to the Quidditch League, but our eager debate was interjected by Ron.
"Say, Malfoy."
"Hmm?"
"Why weren't you at the meeting today? That's the second one you've missed in a row."
"Oh… yeah, sorry I um, ran into some trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" Harry asked. Hermione also started paying attention to me, for the first time since I sat down.
I explained what had happened earlier that evening. The whole thing, right up to the Daphne helping me get to the hospital wing. I left out the part about the map, though, because it would be a bit weird to explain how I even had a copy of the map. But when I told them my suspicions about who it was, namely Zabini, and how it might be a group effort, they were understandably alarmed.
"D'you reckon they were the ones who sent that cursed necklace to Katie?" Harry asked in a low voice.
"Maybe," I said. "But it would be a bit odd, no? As in, why would they attack Katie in such an extreme way but just… kick me a few times? Especially when Zabini has a personal vendetta against me?"
"Assuming it was even him behind the Katie incident," Hermione said.
"Yeah, I think it's safe to say Zabini definitely attacked you," Ron said. "But Katie does seem a bit random."
"And, like I said, a bit too extreme," I said. "I don't even know if Zabini could pull off something like that. Unless maybe Katie wasn't the intended target?"
"But then who?" Ron said.
"I don't know…" I muttered. Of course, the real target could have been Dumbledore, but it was impossible to know for certain at this point. That attack shouldn't have even happened to begin with.
"Well, keep an eye out," Harry said. "We'll have to bring the rest of the DA up to speed on this, and better sooner than later. Hermione, I think we should schedule a meeting for tomorrow evening."
Hermione nodded. "I'll let the others know, the usual way."
"And I'll see if I can figure out who else is involved with Zabini's group," I said.
[…]
(Later that night)
Zabini lay in his bed, examining the old piece of parchment he had taken from Draco earlier that evening. The hangings pulled shut, giving him complete privacy. Not that he particularly needed it, as Draco was off on patrol duty, but it helped him concentrate.
It was frustrating. Zabini knew there was something about this piece of tattered old parchment that made it important - why else would Draco have taken it out at that crucial time? But no matter how hard Zabini tried, how many spells he cast on the parchment, it wouldn't reveal its secrets – only insults. Zabini let out a dejected sigh.
Across the dorm from him, he heard Nott toss aside a book with a thud.
"Fuck this," he said.
"What?" Zabini called out.
"Transfiguration," he said. "I swear this subject is going to destroy my grades. What the fuck even is Barnabus's Law…"
"You're still haven't finished that essay?" Zabini asked.
"No."
"Sucks to be you."
"Have you done it?" Nott asked hopefully.
"Nope."
"It's due tomorrow…"
"I got Rachel to do it for me."
"Rachel… Rosier?" Nott asked.
"How many other Rachels are in our year, Theodore?"
"No, I meant… I just never thought she'd agree to do someone else's homework for them."
"Heh," Zabini said. "Perks of being devilishly handsome."
Nott made a retching noise. Zabini didn't retort, instead he turned his attention back to the parchment briefly, but gave it up as a bad job. As he was about to put the map away and go to sleep, something crossed his mind. Something Nott had said.
'I swear this subject will…'
Innocuous, sure, but something about that word…
Swear.
Swear.
Hadn't Draco sworn on something when he had taken out the map. 'I solemnly swear that I am up…'?
Was that perhaps some kind of code, or password for the parchment? And up? Up to what? The first phrase that came to his mind was 'up to no good'.
Zabini took out the map again, and muttered under his breath, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Black lines started to appear on the parchment. Zabini briefly expected it to be yet more insults from the mysterious Messrs. Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, but it was something else entirely. The lines quickly spread out, all over the parchment, taking the shape Zabini distinctly recognized as the castle. Moving black dots appeared, with words – names – labelled next to them.
Zabini's eyes widened and it took a great deal of effort to not let out a gasp. This tatty old piece of parchment was a map, and it gave the precise location of everyone within its walls.
The immense possibilities, opportunities that this map offered began to dawn on Zabini. With this, they could track all their targets, carry out their plans, and make their getaways safely. But for now, Zabini folded up the map and hid it securely, although his mind was already scheming as he lay back down on his bed.
Potter and his gang of blood-traitors had no idea what was coming.
