Chapter Eight – Strengths and Weaknesses
The atmosphere in the entrance hall of the Greengrass mansion could only be described as unpleasant. Daphne doubted that even in the icy realm of Hel, the Goddess of the Dead, it could be as frosty as it was here. Not that she minded, in fact she found it rather amusing, at least a little. For above all, Daphne felt a not unfamiliar impatience, one of her worst qualities, as she knew herself.
Dressed in her best black travelling cloak, she stood in the hall, her arms crossed and her gaze cool. In front of her stood her family, father, mother, and sister. In her mind, Daphne counted the seconds until she could finally leave.
"Are you sure you want to leave now?" asked Cygnus Greengrass. "The train doesn't leave for another three hours."
"And you're sure you don't want us to come with you?" added his wife, Roxanne.
At moments like this, they almost seemed like loving parents, Daphne thought, but she knew better. Vultures could dye their feathers black and try to caw, but they would never become crows.
Daphne didn't even try to stop herself from snorting. "Doesn't it get on your nerves, Father? In the old days, you couldn't get rid of me fast enough when I was stupid enough to demand answers to my questions from you." She looked at her mother, who she looked so much like and yet had so little in common with. "And you, Mother, please spare us this sentimentality. We both know it will only end in disappointment."
"Hey, don't talk to Mum and Dad like that!" said Astoria indignantly. She took a step towards Daphne, but her father stopped her.
"It's all right, Astoria," he said, his face contorted in disgust. "Your sister's tone comes from the bad influence she was exposed to at Hogwarts. That she exposed herself to."
And now the pitiful spectacle was finally over. The masks had fallen and the ugly grimaces were revealed. But Daphne had long since learned to face the truth, and so she remained unmoved. At least her parents now saw her for what she was: an independent, self-thinking being who made her own decisions. Yes, it was she who had decided to make friends with Harry. She and she alone, and no one else.
"Please think again about what we told you, Daphne," her mother spoke again. "You are our eldest daughter and heiress. It is not fitting for someone of your standing to be involved with such a troublemaker of dubious blood and breeding. You are only twelve years old and already well known in the Ministry."
"They locked him up! I had no choice!" Daphne shook her head. Her parents just wouldn't understand. Maybe they couldn't either, after decades of hiding in fear in the shadows of more powerful witches and wizards.
"We're just looking out for your best interests, Daphne."
"And my best interests are if I do as you tell me?"
"That would be a start," her father said. "But it would be enough for you to start using your brain. Where will that lead, Daphne? You've already made some powerful enemies."
"I'm not afraid of the Malfoys. Their arrogance is their weakness."
"And your selfishness is yours!" Her father looked at her with a mixture of anger and helplessness that Daphne returned coolly. Then he sighed softly. "We have failed in your upbringing, Daphne. I only hope it is not too late for you. But maybe then you'll realise who's been protecting you all this time."
"I can protect myself..." Daphne said quietly, more to herself than anyone else, but her father had heard her.
"But can you protect others from the consequences of your actions? But I know my words will fall on deaf ears. I wish you a safe journey, my daughter." With that, her father turned and left the hall with echoing footsteps. Left behind were the three Greengrass women, mother, daughter, and sister.
Daphne's mother gave her a look that was probably meant to be sympathetic, but only caused Daphne to gag. "We can't always do what we want, Daphne. Our duties –"
"Are not mine," Daphne cut her off. "You know, Mother, believe it or not, I am proud to be a Greengrass. We just have different ideas about what that means."
Her mother opened her mouth, probably to deliver another sermon on the supremacy of pure blood, but Daphne had had enough. She grabbed her trunk and dragged it to the door. Over her shoulder, she called back, "See you in ten months, Mother. And Astoria..." She hesitated. She didn't know what to say to her sister, so she didn't.
With a strange feeling of emptiness in her stomach and her heart pounding at the same time, Daphne stepped outside. The glaring sun shone down on her like a spotlight in a theatre. But unlike her parents and sister, she was not a character in a macabre play, dancing to someone else's tune, nor one of the inert spectators content to watch the deeds of others. No, she was going to write her own story, and soon a new chapter would be added to that story, the chapter of her second year at Hogwarts. Daphne could hardly wait to get back there.
She walked quickly along the long gravel path, past withered trees and shrubs, and soon reached the boundary of the family estate. There she called the Knight Bus, that this time took her not to Little Whinging, but to London.
As Daphne passed through the barrier between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross station, she was greeted by the sight of a flashing scarlet steam locomotive standing on the platform, gleaming majestically in the sunlight, as if it too could hardly wait to set off north. Daphne never thought she would ever be so excited by the sight of a train as she was at that moment, but for her too, it was a return to a place she considered more home than where she had grown up.
She really had become sentimental, Daphne thought. She swept her eyes over the platform. There weren't many people around yet, and the few that were, all gave the impression of being busy with some last important task. Wagons were still being hitched up and boxes loaded, and a wizard was cleaning the windows of the train.
Then Daphne saw a familiar figure with auburn hair sitting on a large trunk at the far end of the platform, seemingly staring into space. It was strange for Daphne to see her roommate alone, as she was usually tied to Pany's apron strings, metaphorically speaking. Normally, Daphne would have ignored her, but since she'd seen Tracey come out of the restroom with tears in her eyes on the last ride on the Hogwarts Express, she couldn't help but be a little curious. Especially since it was so odd for Tracey to be waiting on the platform so early and alone. And something else caught Daphne's eye as she approached her classmate. Tracey was wearing a thick woolly jumper that came up to her chin. And it was still over twenty degrees. Daphne was sweating just at the thought of such warm clothing.
"Hey, Davis," she said when she was close enough. "Thought I'd be the first one here." Tracey jumped and turned to face her. There were no tear streaks on her cheeks this time, but her face was ashen and there were deep circles under her eyes. "Didn't have a good summer?" asked Daphne.
"What makes you think that?"
"Oh please, just look at you. And where are your parents anyway?"
Tracey rose from her trunk. They were about the same height, so they could look each other straight in the eye. Tracey's eyes were the same brown as her hair, Daphne noticed, maybe a little darker.
"I could ask you the same question, Greengrass. Where are your parents?"
Daphne clicked her tongue. "I left them behind. It's better for all concerned."
"So it's true what Pansy always said. You're a disappointment to your parents. And a disgrace to Slytherin."
They were Pansy's words coming out of Tracey's mouth, but they lacked Pansy's conviction. They were merely parroted. Daphne refused to be provoked. "But you haven't answered my question. Where are your parents?"
"They... they're busy," Tracey said. "That's why they brought me here."
Daphne tilted her head and looked at Tracey. "You're lying." Tracey's face froze and Daphne continued. "You know, I've always thought it was a shame you were chasing after Pansy and the others like that. You're much more magically gifted than they are, and a much more diligent student."
It was amusing to see the emotions running down Tracey's face in response, or rather the emotions she was trying to suppress. Daphne could learn a few things from this and their previous exchange. Oh yes, Tracey clearly hadn't had a good summer and she didn't seem to have a good relationship with her parents either, at least that was what they seemed to have in common. Perhaps her parents beat her? That would explain the woolly jumper she was wearing, if she was trying to hide bruises. Daphne also learned that Tracey agreed with her assessment of their roommates' abilities. But she also realised that she shouldn't probe any deeper.
By now the platform was filling up. One by one, more Hogwarts students and their families passed through the barrier or appeared in one of the many fireplaces, their flames glowing green each time. Tracey's eyes darted back and forth between the newcomers and her.
"I understand, you don't want to be seen with an outsider like me," Daphne said. "But Davis, if I may give you some advice, you need to learn to stand up for yourself more. If you always keep your head down, you'll end up getting grabbed by predators from above."
Predators like me.
Without waiting for an answer, Daphne turned and walked, heels clicking, towards the waiting train, the wagon doors now open. She let her trunk float in front of her. One last time she reached into her cloak to make sure she had stowed her gift for Harry safely before boarding the train and finding an empty compartment.
She wondered what her friend was doing.
With a long yawn, Harry sat up in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. He had taken the opportunity to sleep in as last night had been a long one, first dinner with Hagrid and then the trip to the Restricted Section. He could not wait to show Daphne all the fascinating books he had found over the past few weeks.
Speaking of Daphne! Today was the first of September and she and everyone else would be returning to Hogwarts. He glanced at the pile of letters on his bedside table. After escaping the Dursleys and the intrigues of an enigmatic house-elf, he had received tons of letters from his friends. Most were from Daphne, who had more than kept her promise to write to him every day, but he had also received letters from Ron, Hermione, and even Neville. It felt good to have friends who cared about you.
With these pleasant thoughts, Harry rose from the bed, only to look up in confusion as he saw something dark and black lying on the mattress. His confusion increased when he realised what it was. It was a feather. A large, black feather. How had a feather like that got into his bed?
The feather looked like the ones Daphne wore in her crow form. A joyful excitement came over Harry, for he had an idea what the feather might mean. He would ask Daphne later. But it would be hours before then, so Harry got dressed, put the feather in his pocket, and left the dormitory to spend one last day in the abandoned castle. First he would get something to eat in the kitchen, he thought, then perhaps visit Hedwig and finally go to Hagrid. He had agreed with the gamekeeper yesterday that they could go to Hogsmeade together, since Hagrid was taking the first years back to Hogwarts across the lake and Harry had promised to pick up his friends.
So it was that, hours later, Harry found himself standing on the platform in Hogsmeade. The Hogwarts Express had just arrived and the first students were getting off. Hagrid's voice echoed through the station. Harry didn't call out, but he lifted his head, still unable to see his friends. His heart pounded in his chest with anticipation. Although the last month had been the best summer of his life and the time had flown by in the daily routine of reading, spell practise and letter writing, he longed for the company of his friends.
It was then that Daphne finally emerged from the crowd. Harry would have recognised her raven hair among thousands. He waved to her and a radiant smile spread across her face as she caught sight of him. She rushed towards him with quick steps and he rushed towards her when suddenly someone fell around his neck. Harry's face was covered in bushy brown hair and the air was almost squeezed out of his lungs from the force of the embrace.
"Hello, Hermione," he murmured.
Hermione squeezed him even tighter, making Harry almost afraid of being crushed. Ron came up behind Hermione, grinning. "Harry, good to see you, mate," he said.
Then Hermione finally broke away from him and Harry took a hasty step back to make room between them. Ron laughed when he saw this.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione said, her face beaming with joy. "But I'm so glad to see you. How are you?"
Now Harry had to smile too. He had missed her. "Very well. I'm fine."
"I can imagine, now that you don't have to be with the Muggles," Ron commented.
"Hey, not all Muggles are like Harry's family," Hermione complained.
"Don't worry Hermione, I know. You know how infatuated my dad is with Muggles."
Hermione frowned, as if she didn't approve of Ron talking about Muggles like they were a hobby. But her frown gave way to a dark shadow that flitted across her face as Daphne joined them.
"What an emotional reunion. Do I get a hug too?" Without waiting for an answer, Daphne walked over to Harry and gave him a gentle hug. It was no comparison to Hermione's hug a few moments ago, or the one in Privet Drive after Daphne had rescued him, but Harry sensed that she was as happy to see him as he was to see her. The familiar scent of Daphne's hair – pine needles with a hint of lemongrass – entered his nose. Harry found himself smiling.
"Hello, Daphne. Long time no see."
Daphne pulled away from the embrace but took both his hands in hers. "Too long," she said. Then she turned to Ron and Hermione. "Hello, Weasley, Granger. How was your summer?"
"Fine, thank you," Hermione said, her voice perhaps a little cool. Harry hoped that maybe his friends could be a little more friendly with each other this year, otherwise it was going to get pretty tiresome in the long run. At least they were talking to each other politely now, that was a good start.
A shrill voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. "The half-blood and the blood traitor. What a cute couple. So your parents couldn't talk some sense into you. What a shame for you." It was Pansy Parkinson who walked past with her clique of girls, giving them disdainful looks.
Instinctively, Harry squeezed Daphne's hands in his. "They're up to something," he said quietly.
"I know. I'll be ready."
Harry nodded. He knew Daphne could handle anything her roommates might try. Still, he said, "Take care of yourself."
"Oh, you're worried about me?" asked Daphne with raised eyebrows.
"I know you don't need a rescuer..."
Daphne gave him a deep look from her amber eyes, now more familiar to Harry than his own. A smile curled her lips and she squeezed his hands gently.
"Speaking of rescuers," Ron said. "Is it true that you stunned Harry's relatives, broke down the door to his room, and ran off with him? At least that's what Dad said, and that's the story that's going round the Ministry. But Harry didn't say much about it in his letters."
"Then I won't either," Daphne replied.
"You stunned them?" asked Hermione. "That's an advanced spell."
Daphne shrugged. Harry knew that she had learned the spell shortly after the start of the last school year. He too had mastered it, but they didn't want to reveal their abilities to the world just yet. All in good time, as Daphne always said.
Ron spoke up again. "Anyway, thank you, Green-er, Daphne. For helping Harry. I was getting worried. If Harry had continued not to answer my letters, I would've come too, but you've already taken care of that." Ron looked at Harry and then he knew that his friend knew a lot more than he had told him. Surely the Ministry wizards had seen the wreckage of the window with the bars and the remains of the door with the cat flap.
Harry looked away in shame. He couldn't bear pity. Nor was it necessary, for he had put all that behind him. His life had changed for the better. Ron seemed to know that too, at least he said nothing more.
Daphne, on the other hand, gave Ron a brief nod. Maybe his hope that his friends would get along better was coming true. Even Hermione tried to give Daphne a smile, and although Daphne didn't return it, at least she didn't acknowledge it with a roll of her eyes. It was a beginning, and all beginnings were small.
When Harry entered the deserted classroom later that evening, he was greeted by Daphne. She was sitting on one of the desks, her legs dangling. Before they had split up in the Great Hall to attend the Welcome Feast at different tables, they had agreed to meet here later. Daphne smiled at him, but he didn't miss the dried blood on her lip and the scratch on her cheek.
"So they actually tried something," he said, sitting down next to her.
"They were stupid. It was only three against one, they didn't stand a chance. And I have a feeling Tracey's heart wasn't in it."
"Tracey?" asked Harry calmly, but inside he was furious. True, he knew that Daphne wasn't seriously hurt – from the looks of it, she'd only been hurt by a few fingernails – and he also knew that Daphne was more than capable of defending herself ... But he couldn't help himself. Everything in him cried out to get back at her roommates, maybe even more if violence was the only language they understood. At the same time, he found it a little amusing that Daphne obviously couldn't wait to show him her war wounds, since it would have been easy for her to heal the scratches before she got here.
"Davis," Daphne said. "I spoke to her briefly at King's Cross, but it doesn't matter now. I have something for you." With that, she pulled two delicate silver rings out of her pocket, shimmering mysteriously in the moonlight, and engraved with intertwined runes, Harry realised, even though he couldn't read the runes. At his questioning look, Daphne continued, "I told you I wanted to spend more time over the summer studying how to preserve the life power of living beings."
Harry understood. "And you once told me that the effects of blood magic could be enhanced by certain metals, runes, or the flesh of certain magical creatures."
His memories returned to their second encounter in this room, after their Christmas pact. It was then that she had begun to teach him the secrets of blood magic. It seemed like an eternity to Harry, but it had only been eight months. The days of cutting his hand with a butter knife were long gone. Daphne had been much cooler to him then too, but now she moved even closer and nodded eagerly.
"Exactly. And that's why I made these."
"You made them?"
"It was fun, actually, shaping the metal and weaving the spells. It took me a few tries, but in the end it worked." There was pride in Daphne's words.
"Wow," he said. "That really is incredibly impressive, Daph. Maybe one day you'll be an enchantress!"
"Hmmm, maybe. It's certainly something I'd like to pursue further. Weaving spells into objects, or removing such woven spells, is a powerful skill that few witches and wizards have mastered."
"You're doing it again," Harry said with a laugh.
"Doing what?"
"Being arrogant."
"Modesty is –"
"For fools. I know. But tell me, where did you get the metal for the rings?"
Daphne brushed a lock of her silky black hair out of her face and smiled mischievously at him. "Let's just say my parents donated some stuff they didn't need anymore. But look what else I got from them."
With that she opened her bag, where Harry caught sight of books, not one, two, or three, no, there seemed to be several dozen books sticking out of the deep black of the bag. Magic was a wonderful thing.
"You've enlarged the inside of the bag and lightened its weight. Very impressive."
Daphne rocked back and forth in her seat, her satisfaction as obvious as if it were written in ink on her face. She closed her bag and held one of the rings out to him. "Would you like to try it on?" she asked.
Harry took the ring out of her hand. It felt cold against his skin and much lighter than he had expected. As light as air. He slipped the ring onto the forefinger of his right hand. It fit perfectly. Daphne put her ring on as well and looked at it in the pale moonlight.
"You won't feel anything yet," she said, "but the next time we maim an animal, some of the life power released should be stored in the ring. But I don't know to what limit. I guess we'll just have to try."
Harry nodded. "But not today. I also want to show you something, Daph." He took out the black feather he had found in his bed that morning. "It was lying next to me when I woke up. Since I don't believe that you secretly visited me that night and crawled into my bed..."
Daphne's amber eyes widened. "You got closer to your Spirit Within in your sleep," she whispered, though there was no need to whisper.
"Do you think my Animagus form could be a crow?"
"Would you like that, Harry?" Daphne asked, almost a little suggestively, Harry thought, causing a strange feeling in his stomach. "To be a crow like me?"
"Yes," he said sincerely. "And what about you? Would you like that too?"
"Yes."
The two friends smiled at each other, a perfect moment of sincerity between them, when suddenly a loud Meow interrupted their togetherness. Harry jumped and looked at the door. There stood Mrs Norris. The cat was looking at them with an expression of triumph that Harry would never have expected from an animal. She was about to turn and run away, no doubt to fetch her master, but Harry and Daphne were quicker.
"Stupefy."
"Venticula."
Mrs Norris was first hit by a red stunner and then enveloped in a ball of wind. Both spells left the cat unable to move.
"I've waited a long time for this!" said Daphne with delight. "Inc–"
"No!"
Daphne lowered her wand and looked at him. "No?"
"No," Harry repeated. "We won't do that to her, Daph. We can't do that to Filch."
"Since when do you care about him?"
"I don't, but... She's the only one he's got." Besides, that was a line he didn't want to cross yet. Maybe one day he would, if he continued down this road with Daphne, but he wasn't ready for that yet. His fingers felt for the silver ring on his skin. It felt heavy at that moment.
"Do you have any idea how many times that filthy creature has tried to ambush me?" Daphne shook her head. "You're too sympathetic, Harry. Hopefully that won't be your undoing one day."
Harry nodded at Mrs Norris. "What do we do with her now?"
"Nothing, unless you want to give me the satisfaction of getting back at her," Daphne said. She stuck her tongue out at the cat, whose eyes, despite her current state, were looking at her with a predatory gaze. "Be angry all you want, but there's no crow for you to eat today. Remember forever this moment when you were at the mercy of Daphne Greengrass and Harry Potter and we let you live."
Daphne looked at him again. "Then let us return to our dormitories before her master comes looking for her. But we probably won't be able to go back to this classroom. We'll have to find somewhere else." Regret had crept into Daphne's voice, and Harry could sympathise with her. This place had a special meaning for him too, for it was here that his friendship with Daphne had begun.
"We'll find something else," he said quietly.
Daphne nodded before another mischievous twinkle came into her eyes. "And tomorrow it will be time for another duel, Harry. I can't wait to see what you've been up to over the summer. I hope you didn't spend all your time eating cookies with Hagrid and flying around on your broom."
"You forgot to write letters. But don't worry, I've been practising too. You'll be surprised. I hope you weren't the lazy one, otherwise tomorrow will be rather boring."
His words made Daphne shake her head. "Oh dear, my arrogance seems to have rubbed off on you. What have I done ..."
If you only knew how much you're rubbing off on me, Daph, Harry thought before escorting her back to her common room.
The next morning it didn't take long for the others to notice the ring on Harry's finger.
"Harry, what's that on your hand?" asked Hermione as soon as he came down the stairs from the boys' dormitory.
How lucky that he and Daphne had come up with a lie for this very moment yesterday. And so he replied calmly, "It's a friendship ring that Daphne made. She has one just like it."
"What's that?" asked Ron, confused.
"I read about it once," Hermione said. "A friendship ring is a way for two people to show that they like each other and feel connected to each other. It's an appreciation of each other and can symbolise both love and friendship."
"Ewww..."
"What do you mean, eww?" asked Hermione.
"I'm just saying." Ron looked at Harry. "With a girl?"
"Boys and girls can be friends just as well as two boys," Hermione said reprovingly.
"Sure. But it's still kind of weird."
Harry, who had been watching the repartee between his two friends with amusement, turned back to Hermione. "I would have thought you'd have found it odd too," he said curiously.
Hermione shrugged. "Yes, Daphne and I may not see eye to eye, but she's very clever and talented, and she's also your friend. And she did something that neither Ron nor I did, even though we wondered as much as she did why we hadn't heard from you. And yet it wasn't us who came to you, it was her." Hermione bit her lips for a moment and gave him an uncertain look. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to like her as much as you do, but she's proved to be a good friend to you. That's why I want to get on better with her in the future than I have in the past."
Ron nodded at her words. "Hermione's right. I'll try to be nicer to her too."
"Thanks, guys," Harry said. It hadn't escaped his notice that Hermione had stopped calling her Greengrass and was using Daphne's first name.
Hermione looked as if she couldn't hold back her words any longer, as if she was going to burst if she didn't let them out. "Harry, I'm sorry. We should have looked after you and I'll never forgive myself for –"
Harry raised his hand. "It's all right, Hermione. It all worked out in the end."
"But not because of us..." Ron said quietly.
Harry had to secretly agree with him. Everything had worked out in the end, but it wasn't because of Ron and Hermione, it was all because of Daphne. But he didn't think it was a good idea to say that out loud, so he smiled at his two friends. "Don't worry about it. I know I can always count on you two. And Hermione, I will continue to depend on you, especially in History."
Hermione smiled back, but that didn't stop her from making a snide remark. "How about I don't let you copy my notes this year?"
"You wouldn't be that cruel!" exclaimed Ron.
"Oh, yes, I would!" Hermione replied before starting to laugh quietly. "Oh, it's good to be back at Hogwarts. The summer has been far too long without you."
Harry and Ron could only nod in agreement, and in such a good mood the three friends went to the Great Hall for breakfast.
There they were met by Daphne, who had sat down at the Gryffindor table, apparently drawn into a conversation about butterfly hair clips by Lavender and Parvati. Daphne looked as if she couldn't decide whether to scream or run away.
Although she managed to avoid the conversation with Lavender and Parvati thanks to their appearance, Hermione immediately started a lively discussion with her about magical metalworking.
"...and don't you have to keep an eye on the very high temperatures when you do that? I mean, what is the melting point of silver? A thousand degrees Celsius?"
"Nine hundred and sixty-two," Daphne replied. "Rounding. Platinum was even higher. But yes, you have to take precautions. Professional enchantresses have their own magic forges for that, but of course I didn't. Instead, I surrounded the metal with a magical ball of cold air during the process to protect myself from the heat".
"You can do that?" asked Hermione in astonishment. She seemed to have completely forgotten her reticence towards Daphne from last term. "This is really advanced magic. Can I touch it?" She reached out to touch the ring on Daphne's finger.
"No!" Daphne glanced at Harry before turning back to Hermione. "The ring has special meaning to me. I'm sorry, Granger, but I don't want anyone to touch it."
Hermione's disappointment was obvious but she pulled her hand back. "Oh, it's all right. I understand. It's certainly an impressive achievement, Daphne. Perhaps we can study together this year?"
Again, Daphne's gaze slipped to Harry and he nodded slightly. In response, Daphne said, "Gladly, Grang... Hermione."
Harry smiled gratefully at her. But he also knew not to push his luck and changed the subject. "What do you think the new Defence Professor is going to be like? I hear he's quite famous."
"You'll soon be able to see for yourself, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall's voice rang out behind him. "You are about to have your first lesson with him." With that, she handed them their timetables. She had one for Daphne too. "Professor Snape asked me to give this to you. Since you always sit at my table anyway." Her tone betrayed that these were not her words.
"Thank you, Professor," Daphne said. She glanced at the timetable. "Oh, we have Defence with you Gryffindors. But no more Charms. And Transfiguration is with the Hufflepuffs."
Professor McGonagall looked at her over her glasses. "I'm actually quite happy about that, Miss Greengrass, because then I won't have the three best students in the year together in one class. I hope you have a good first day at school." With that, their house teacher walked along the table to hand out the other timetables.
"Three best students in the year?" asked Ron.
"Daphne, Harry, and I," Hermione said. "We were the best last year."
"And I'm your mascot then, or what?"
"Take it as encouragement to try harder, Weasley," Daphne said in her usual tone, which Harry could interpret but his other two friends would probably misunderstand. He could already feel the mood beginning to change, so he rose quickly from the table.
"Then let's go to Defence. I want a good seat."
Now the others stood up as well and together they left the Great Hall. They only got as far as the entrance hall, though, because there they were stopped by a small boy with mousy hair, who stood in their way with a bright red head. The boy was holding what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera. Harry remembered seeing the boy at the Welcome Feast yesterday. He was one of the new first years from Gryffindor.
"Hello, Harry. I'm... I'm Colin Creevey," the boy said shyly. Beside Harry, the others looked confused. "Do you think... I mean, would it be all right if ... can I have a picture?" The boy hopefully held up his camera.
"A picture?" Harry repeated incredulously.
"So I can prove that I've met you. I know all about you. Everyone told me. How you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you, and how he disappeared and everything, and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead. And a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures will move! Unbelievable, isn't it?"
Colin had said all this without taking a breath. Now he took a quick breath before continuing. "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really great if I had one of you. You're famous, aren't you? Maybe one of your friends could take the photo and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?" He looked at Harry pleadingly.
Harry felt like he was in the wrong film. He opened his mouth to tell Colin off, but Daphne beat him to it.
"Go away," she said, "we haven't got time for this."
"Just one quick picture, please. I promise –"
"Don't you hear me, leave us alone."
"Please just –"
"Tarantallegra."
Daphne pointed her wand at Colin, who suddenly began to dance wildly. His camera dangled up and down from his chest. "Heeeeeyyyyyy!"
"What are you doing?" cried Hermione.
Daphne shrugged. "Teaching him a lesson."
Harry had to pull himself together to keep from laughing out loud, and Ron suppressed a grin as well. Hermione was about to complain further when the new Professor Lockhart approached them in a pompous turquoise robe.
"What's going on here, gentlemen?"
Colin replied through chattering teeth. He was still dancing madly. "I wanted a photo and Harry's autograph. But his friend hexed me." He pointed at Daphne.
"But miss," Lockhart turned to Daphne. "That's no way to treat anyone. I'm afraid you'll have to serve detention for that." Then he put his arm around Harry and thundered jovially, "Harry, come with me to the classroom. You're about to have your first lesson with me, aren't you? You must be very nervous. I would be too if I were your age and being taught by a celebrity like myself. But don't worry, I won't bite."
Harry looked at his friends in despair. This was all just a silly joke of fate, wasn't it? But Daphne and Hermione just frowned as they followed him a few steps away. Ron, meanwhile, tried in vain to help the dancing Colin.
Lockhart kept talking all the way and it was getting worse. "Now for the lovely young lady with the raven black hair. No doubt it's nice to have a female fan who admires you. But with fame comes responsibility, Harry. You can't let your fans hurt and hex each other. You can't do that to the people who look up to you. If you ever have as many admirers as I do, which is admittedly very unlikely, but just as a thought experiment, then you have to make sure it doesn't happen again, otherwise you're an easy target for the press. And don't think you'll be loved and admired if you don't take care of your publicity. Having said that, I would like to give you the sincere advice that it is not sensible handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career. Looks a tad bigheaded, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but I don't think you're quite there yet. Even if you have already reached a certain level of fame..."
They had reached Lockhart's classroom and he let Harry go at last. Harry yanked his robes straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the class. Daphne, Hermione, and Ron joined him.
"Don't say anything," he whispered to them.
But for Hermione the matter did not seem to be settled. "You can't just hex a first year!" she said to Daphne, angrily.
"Why not?" she asked. "He was annoying. He was getting on Harry's nerves, and mine too."
"You can't do that! It's immoral to use your magic to humiliate weaker people."
"Stronger ones wouldn't put up with it in the first place."
"That's not the point."
"Yes, Granger, that is precisely the point. Strength doesn't come by itself. The boy has learnt an important lesson today. Hopefully he'll be smarter in the future, or have the strength to defend himself. Perhaps today's encouragement will help him to rise above."
"The strong have no need to humiliate the weak," Hermione said caustically. "And who is stronger anyway? You shouldn't say things like that, you're always the weaker one somewhere."
Daphne shook her head. "You just don't get it, Granger."
"No, you're the one who doesn't get it, Greengrass," Hermione said. With that, she turned away from Daphne and looked forward.
Harry sighed softly. So they were back to last names, it would have been too good to be true.
One by one the other students entered the classroom. The Gryffindors sat on their side of the room, the Slytherins on the other. The only exception was Daphne. Parkinson pointed at her and muttered something to her friends. Davis even pretended to throw up and the girls clucked like the stupid chickens they were. Malfoy, on the other hand, was busy showing off his new green dragon leather socks with his initials on them. Now that was a reason to throw up!
Malfoy noticed his look and gave him an impish grin. For a few moments, Malfoy's eyes lingered on Daphne. Harry didn't like his expression at all and his hands clenched into fists.
Finally, Lockhart opened the lesson and Malfoy looked away. Lockhart stepped in front of their desks, a copy of Travels with Trolls with a winking portrait of him on the cover.
"Me," Lockhart began, pointing at it and winking as well, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Orden of Merlin Third Class, honorary member of the League for the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award – but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her." Harry felt a headache coming on. "I see you have all bought a complete set of my books – well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about, just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in."
With that, Lockhart handed out the test papers and returned to the front of the class. "You have thirty minutes. Start now!"
Harry looked at his sheet and had to pull himself together not to laugh out loud. For he read:
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
And so on for another three pages. Until the last question:
54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?
Harry looked at Daphne, who just shook her head. Then he looked at Hermione, who had already started writing furiously. Ron, on the other hand, looked just as confused as he was.
"The guy's mad," he muttered.
At his words, Harry had to hold back a laugh, but didn't quite manage it. Lockhart looked up from his desk, where he was filing his fingernails, and looked at them. "Anything to laugh about?"
Now they all turned to look at them. Harry felt trapped. He opened his mouth, but Daphne beat him to it.
"The quiz is laughable," she said, adding after a long pause, "Professor."
"Oh yes, very well spotted, miss," Lockhart said. "There's never been a lack of fun in my adventures." He winked mischievously at Daphne. "For a merrymaker like you, I can only recommend the new edition of Gadding with Ghouls, due out next month, with a brand new extra chapter describing how I and the thirteen ghouls entered the local –"
"I'm more of a fan of dark stories. Danger, life and death struggles, blood and monsters, and so on. But most of all, I'm not a fan of wasting my time." Daphne looked at Harry and he could see a bold thought flashing in her golden eyes.
Instinctively, Harry had to smile. He wouldn't have dared with any other teacher, but Lockhart had already shown himself to be a vain peacock. He bet his broom, his Invisibility Cloak, and the Marauder's Map that he had never experienced the adventures in his books. And so he nodded to Daphne.
At the same time, without more than a glance at each other, they raised their wands and burned the parchment with the quizzes to ashes.
"Harry!" Hermione cried.
"But... But, Harry ..." Lockhart stammered. "You can't do that ... And neither can you, Miss ..."
"Greengrass," said Daphne, rising from the table. "Shall we go, Harry?"
Harry stood up too, and Lockhart's voice grew even more shrill. "No! You can't do that!"
Harry and Daphne paid no further attention to him. Under the astonished looks of the others, they headed for the door, their bags flying behind them.
"Detention! You're going to detention!"
Those were the last words they heard before they stepped out into the corridor, slamming the classroom door behind them. They quickened their pace, almost running, and by the time they rounded the next corner of the corridor they were laughing so hard they had to hold their stomachs.
"McGonagall's going to kill us for this," Harry laughed.
Daphne shook her head. "She likes us. She'll scold us for it, but it won't be more than detention." She brushed her dark hair out of her face and looked at him. "Now let's do something more useful. Yesterday you promised me a duel."
"Are you so eager to suffer an ignominious defeat, Daph?"
"Oh, on the contrary. It will be your blood, Harry, that will be spilled today, and your screams will make even the ghosts freeze in fear."
Harry swallowed. His friend had a strange sense of humour sometimes. If she hadn't told him once that she could never hurt him, he would have been worried, but as it was, he just nodded at her.
"Go on then."
The events with Colin and in Lockhart's class had left their mark. Hermione was as cold towards Daphne as she had been before the summer, and Harry once again felt caught between two stools. He found the times in the Great Hall and the Gryffindor and Slytherin classes almost unbearable. He preferred to be alone with Daphne, or with Ron and Hermione, but never with all of them.
"She's jealous," Daphne said one night during one of their meetings at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was a full moon, and Daphne wanted to try out a ritual she had read about in one of the old books in her family library.
"Jealous?" asked Harry.
"That we're such good friends."
"But Hermione's my friend too."
Daphne said nothing more. She pointed her wand at the ritual circle drawn in animal blood on the ground and put some of her magic into the runes. A brilliant light enveloped them like a silver mist, filling Harry with a wonderful warmth, like drinking a cup of hot chocolate in front of a crackling fire.
"It's beautiful," he whispered.
Daphne took his hand and squeezed it gently.
When they returned to the castle later, after all traces of their clandestine activities had been removed, there was not a firefly in sight for miles.
And so the school year went on. September became October, and that too passed quickly. Soon Halloween was upon them. Harry just hoped that this time he would not have to fight another troll...