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Act II - The Warlock of Hogwarts
Chapter 2 - Not Yet Back to School AKA Back to School Part 2
Harry watched as Ron and Hermione left for the Prefect carriages. It still pissed a part of him that he was being passed over for the Prefect position. Part of him wanted to yell at the unfairness of it all, but deep down, he knew he didn't deserve the position, either. Apart from catching the snitch in Quidditch matches and getting into trouble, he had barely applied himself to studies. Although he was learning magic, he had associated it with homework.
Mundane. Dull. Uninteresting like primary school.
Spending the summer with Sirius had been an eye-opener in ways more than one. Between the Greengrasses and his godfather, Harry had gotten leaps and bounds at associating himself with his magical heritage. His godfather had been quite vicious in training him in combat, and if not for Andi, he'd have turned into Mad-Eye Moody. Spending time with Fleur had gotten him out of that mental self-isolation he had locked himself into. The veela, in particular, had tons of new and exotic ways of making him react to things, both in and out of bed.
Now that term was starting, he'd have to do his level best. This was his OWL year, and with Voldemort out there, he needed to get better with every passing moment. Not to mention what Croaker and the Department of Mysteries had in wait for him.
"Come'n Harry," Ginny told him. "We need to get going or the compartments will be taken."
Harry doubted it. They enchanted the Hogwarts Express to provide adequate seating space for every passenger. Conversely, the enchantment also had an intent-based ward scheme added to its matrix, making a compartment appear 'full' if the passengers inside did not wish to share it with others.
"Sure, let's go."
"Where's your trunk?" Ginny asked.
Harry patted his chest once and lifted a golden chain around his neck. It enchanted the ornament to stay unnoticed, unless he intentionally drew attention to it. Of the two things on it, one was a micro-version of a school trunk. At full-size, the thing had two drawers on each of four sides that each slid out to reveal compartments as deep as the entire trunk. A lid with four locks, each of which would reveal a different space inside. And, this was the important part, a handle on the bottom which slid out a frame containing a staircase leading down into an average sized, lighted room. A combination of feather-weight, auto-shrinking, expansion and impervious charms made it into the ultimate camping equipment. With stuff like these, and those tents he had seen at the World Cup, he couldn't help but wonder why wizards bothered owning a house at all.
"Oh," Ginny recognized. "Someone's being all fancy."
Harry gave her a lopsided grin. "Blame Sirius. But gotta admit, it's pretty handy."
"And Hedwig?"
"Flying to Hogwarts. She's a big girl now."
Ginny snorted. "Let's get in."
They struggled off down the corridor, peering through the glass-panelled doors into the compartments as they passed, all of them occupied. Almost everyone was staring at him with great interest, and several actually nudged their neighbours and pointed him out. It was almost enough for him to debate if these people had heard about the outcome of the trial or had simply set their mind to believe Skeeter's rubbish. He almost didn't notice when the doors to the compartment behind him opened and someone stood out. It probably said something about him that his first reaction wasn't to turn around but to summon his wand out of the holster, and a phrase of quasi-Latin forming on his lips. It never hurt to defend himself, just in case the person intended to hurt him.
Then he smelt her perfume.
"Why, Miss Greengrass," he turned, reverting his wand back to the holster. "Too excited to see me?"
Whatever Daphne was about to say came to an abrupt stop, apparently disconcerted. One advantage of being a wizard was that people always attributed everything you did to magic. Especially if no other immediate explanation leapt to mind. It was doubly true for witches and wizards themselves. Daphne probably hadn't thought about her perfume giving away her identity when she could assign his mysterious, blind identification to some magical sensing prowess. Perhaps an identity disclosure enchantment on his person? An obscure identification charm? The possibilities were endless.
"To see you?" she mock-admonished, flipping her dark hair backwards, the motion somehow emphasising the lazy appeal of her eyes. "Someone is very sure of himself this morning."
Harry looked behind her, and could see Astoria waving from one side. Grinning, he jerked his head at the younger girl before regarding Daphne.
She smirked at him. He liked her smirk. It did interesting things to her lips, and hers were already attractive. "Looks like you could use some help getting a compartment," she said. "You can join us if you like."
"And give Malfoy a heart-attack before we reach school? Snape would get a conniption."
Daphne rested against the door hinges on the left and lifted her chin, studying him through narrowed eyes and thick, long lashes. One thing that appealed to Harry about her was that even though she could use her charm and femininity relentlessly in pursuit of her wants, she had no concept of how attractive she really was. It was more like she understood others found her bewitching, but had never gotten around to understanding why.
"Harry Potter," she complained, "this is the third time you've spoken about Draco in private conversation. Pansy's sitting right inside. Perhaps there's something she needs to know?"
He snorted and shook his head. Daphne's theories about how he and Malfoy were secretly attracted to each other were a running joke. "Not a chance. I wouldn't make it to school alive."
"Harry?" Ginny asked cautiously, eyeing Daphne. "We, err⦠need to go."
"I wasn't kidding, Potter," Daphne pounced into the conversation. "Join us. Astoria would love spending some time with you. She felt left out at the party."
"That's not howβ" Astoria began in the background, before her voice was muffled, probably by a hand over her mouth. Harry wondered if it was Parkinson.
"Harry sits with us," Ginny said, a current of sternness lacing her words. She grabbed him by the elbow, softly nudging him to leave, her eyes giving Daphne the Female Once-Over β a process by which a woman created a detailed profile of another woman based upon about a million subtle details of clothing, jewellery, makeup, and body type, and then decided how much of a social threat she might be. Daphne had probably done the same long ago, when her actions were limited to watching him from afar.
"Harry," Daphne purred, grabbing his other hand, her eyes sharp as flints and glaring at Ginny, before she met his eyes. "I'm serious. Astoria, Pansy and Tracey want to spend time with you, and get to know you."
"He's got better things to do than entertain the likes of Pansy Parkinson," Ginny shot back.
Harry felt like a pine tree in cougar territory. He could only hope the territorial scoring of his bark wasn't next.
"Seriously Greengrass," came Pansy's voice from behind. "If you've to take that much time convincing your fiance to choose you over a Weasβ"
"Shut up, Pansy!" yelled Astoria.
"Fiance?" Ginny breathed, looking at him with confusion and acrimony. "Harry, what does sheβ"
Her question vanished midway as Daphne's eyes flickered with a spark of anger. She turned to him, her eyes regarding him obliquely for a moment before her lips thinned slightly. "Is it too much to ask? I know you'd rather spend time with yourβ¦" she regarded Ginny, "...friends, but I was hoping to introduce you to the others, before we reached Hogwarts and got separated by our House lines."
Harry smoothed his face into a non-expression. Ron and Hermione had gone off for prefect duties, and Ginny usually sat with her fourth-year friends on the train. Part of him severely detested having to choose between people because of Parkinson, but he knew Daphne would be severely insulted if he denied her like that. Especially in front of Ginny Weasley. He knew that Daphne would face a lot of flak in Slytherin House because of her open association with him, and if he rejected her advances now, it'd make things even worse. Besides, he thought, it was only for the duration of the train ride. And if they were to be wed, he'd ultimately have to deal with her side of the crowd.
Might as well start now.
"Tell you what," he turned to Ginny, "you go on ahead and get your friends. Ron and Hermione should come in an hour. I'll have a little chat with Astoria. I'll come find you guys later, yeah?"
"Yes, run away, little Weasley," came Pansy's voice. The girl had walked up to stand behind Daphne. "Potter's got better things to do than associate with your lot."
"Pansy!" Daphne warned.
"What? Surely you matter more in his eyes than Weasley?"
"Why youβ" Ginny began, fumbling for her wand, but Harry's sudden laughter held her back.
"Wow," Harry chuckled, attracting everyone's attention. "I mean, I'm no expert, but that's got to be the best pot-kettle scenario I've seen."
"What do you mean?" Pansy demanded.
"Oh, wasn't I clear?" He asked, "my apologies. I just thought it funny that you'd tell Ginny about who matters more, when Malfoy's clearly tipping towards Crabbe and Goyle over you." He narrowed his eyes in exaggeration. "Unless⦠Daphne lied to me? You are to be married to Malfoy, are you not? Perhaps you should go remind him?"
Pansy's nostrils flared, but she said nothing.
Harry turned to Ginny, who was looking somewhat mollified. "Don't mind her. You go on. I'll join you guys shortly."
Ginny looked like she wanted to refute. She clenched her fists and met Daphne's face with hardened eyes. "Fine. I'll go find Romilda. And she's right. It isn't like Slytherins are welcome in Gryffindor tower. Let her grab whatever scrapings she can."
With that, she raked her fingers through her hair, and spun around, walking ahead and dragging her trunk with her. Harry watched her go, feeling an impending headache grow for maybe two or three whole seconds, before Daphne broke the heavy silence.
"Pansy!" Daphne rebuked. "That was uncalled for."
"What?" the girl retorted, unabashed. "it's the truth."
"You promised you'd be civil." Daphne warned.
"And I am." the girl turned and gave him a mockingly sweet smile. "Hi, Potter. Join Greengrass here. I'll check on darling Draco. Oh, did you hear? Me and Draco are prefects now, soβ¦." she winked. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
She squeezed past Daphne and left, leaving the two standing at the door.
"You know she's a menace, right?" Harry asked.
"I'm really sorry," Daphne said, frowning. She folded her arms over her stomach. "I know you didn't like it."
"Didn't stop you from doing it," Harry retorted. He registered the hurt in her eyes and exhaled. "Sorry. I'd really have appreciated it if it hadn't turned into this."
"Astoria really wanted toβ"
"Daphne," Harry stressed on her name, shutting her up. "We both know this isn't about Astoria. Parkinson set you up to this. If you really wanted me to sit with you, you could've just asked me directly, instead of⦠all this. I know you were looking at me from your window earlier."
Shock and embarrassment flashed on her face. "Youβuhβ"
"Knew that all of that was a facade? It's kinda easy to spot, really. I'd have thought you of all people to know that I hate being put in a position like that. I'd have gladly joined if you had just asked. After all, we are to be wed."
"Harry," she whispered. "I know you must be angry."
"No," He exhaled. "It's fine. I understand. She put you in a position you couldn't get out of, so you had to do this. Move over?"
Daphne blinked.
Harry watched her, amused. "You said you wanted me to sit with your pals. So, move over?"
She smiled a little and shook her head and let him in. Astoria stood up and gave him an affectionate hug, a far cry from the girl that had tried to act all intimidating at the party. There was an auburn -haired, willowy girl sitting next to her, who Harry guessed was Tracey.
"Potter," she nodded curtly.
"Davis."
"Let's just⦠sit down," Daphne said, looking impossibly awkward about the entire thing. He could empathise with her. A Slytherin offering the Boy-Who-Lived to sit amidst other Slytherins inside the compartment. He could only wonder how Malfoy would react to it. Luckily, Astoria broke the silence.
"Where's your owl, Harry?"
Daphne blinked and looked around. "Yeah, and your trunk."
"I shrunk it. And Hedwig is flying to Hogwarts."
"Oh," Astoria pouted, "I liked that owl. She's beautiful."
He smiled at her. "I'll tell Hedwig you said that."
"Think she'll let me pet her?"
Harry lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. "I dunno. Hedwig's not great with unfamiliar people. Petting offers that go with bacon have a better chance at success."
Her eyes lit up, and she grinned. "So how was the summer like? After the party?"
"Oh you know, a lot of reading, a lot of spell-practice and occasional flashes of pure terror."
Astoria looked from him to Daphne, as if confirming if he was being serious. He was. He loved his godfather to death, but the man was a merciless bastard when it came to training. While he didn't quite share the adversarial teacher-student thing that he and Snape had, Sirius more than made up for it with his sadistic military trainer vibes. According to him, any training without a liberal application of pain and fear was no training at all.
And after he was done systematically breaking his limbs and turning him blue and purple, he'd leave for Fleur to clean his wounds and perform an entirely different therapy on him. The man was even considerate enough to cast silencing charms as he left.
A classy man, his godfather was.
"Sirius was training me in defence," he clarified. "After how the Third Task ended, he decided Hogwarts was safe anymore. Something about weak-willed imperius victims and sore losers. Didn't help that I was attacked in Diagon Alley," Harry went on. "Pucey, Urquhart, and Murk attacked me. Didn't exactly have Death-Eater masks, but they got the vibe right."
"Urquhart attacked you?" Daphne breathed, standing up.
"Guess we know why Moon was visiting St. Mungo's," Tracey said. "when did this happen?"
"A week before we went to your place for the meeting," Harry told Daphne.
"But⦠why?" Astoria demanded.
"Couldn't be bothered to ask," Harry admitted with a half-shrug. "After you've been through the shit I have, you stop questioning the hows and the whys, and jump straight to spells. Maybe you should ask Parkinson for an insider story."
"Wow," said Parkinson, who had just arrived back into the compartment. "I leave for two minutes, and already I'm a Death Eater in training."
"I don't know," said Harry callously. "Should I demand your left-arm be checked?"
Daphne stiffened. "Harry, please. We need to stop being all confrontational. Pansy, that goes for you, too. If all you wanted was to annoy him, you could do it without this much drama."
Pansy flashed him a glare, walked past him and took a seat next to Daphne.
"Say Potter," Tracey asked out of nowhere. "What made you change this summer? Taking up lordships. Crafting alliances, hosting partiesβ¦ seems entirely different from the Harry Potter we know. Like, Greengrass spends the last four years hating you, and now you'reβ¦" she trailed off.
Harry glanced at Daphne and found her scowling down at her feet. "My⦠alliance and relationship with Daphne is an entirely personal matter. But as you might have heard, I came into my inheritance during this summer, and got to know about my Greengrass ancestry. I thought little of it before until Joshua invited me to Greengrass manor."
"Huh," Pansy observed, her eyes shining. "Didn't know that bit. I thought Uncle Joshua and Draco's dad were the best of friends."
"They're associates that shared common interests," Daphne primly replied. "I was to be married to his son. Now things have changed, and House Greengrass is allied with the new House Black. We'll just have to see how that changes things between my and Draco's father."
"And now you're to be wed." Tracey observed.
"Was that a question?" Harry quipped.
"And you've no trouble that she's a Slytherin?"
"I think I kinda made that point clear when I accepted her invitation. Sides, Slytherins are supposed to be resourceful and cunning. Inviting the famous Harry Potter in a compartment full of Slytherins in front of witnesses seems tooβ¦"
"Gryffindorish?" Pansy suggested.
"Malfoy-like," Harry shot back. "But yes, that goes too. Hey, come to think of it, he's quite the quintessential Gryffindor, isn't he? Wonder how he got sorted into Slytherin."
"What about you?" Astoria asked. "Sister said you were almost a hatstall."
"A⦠what now?"
"A hatstall," Daphne said, "it's a term used for any student whose sorting takes longer than five minutes. It's kinda rare, and maybe once in every decade. I think Longbottom took over four minutes. Anymore, and he'd have been one."
"Probably because the Hat was puzzled if squibs were allowed at Hogwarts," Pansy sneered.
Harry clenched his fists, but maintained his calm. Had this been last year, he'd have had his wand ready and a spell on his lips. But had this been last year, he'd probably not be sitting with Slytherins in the first place. Pansy was a bully, but not an idiot. You didn't just engineer a private meeting just to mindlessly bully and confront the other. She was up to something. Whatever it was, it included pushing his buttons and getting him to react. If that's what she wanted him to do, it was probably a good idea not to do it.
Before Pansy could say anything more, Daphne took control of the conversation. "Honestly, of all people, I thought you'd qualify for a Hatstall."
"Me too," Tracey quipped. "What with the Boy-Who-Lived and all that? But you got sorted within three minutes."
"Yes," Daphne joined in. "Given what I know of him, it has actually offered him multiple options."
"I was actually," Harry said. He wasn't usually one to lie, but then again, these people didn't know him and were making an attempt. Even Pansy, in her own circuitous way, was getting to know him by pushing his buttons. "The Hat offered me Slytherin."
"Hippogriff dung!" swore Astoria. "You're just having us on."
Harry laughed. "The Hat told me that Slytherin would help me on my way to greatness, help me achieve everything I wanted and so much more. It even told me that the House was more than what some students made it look like, but I wasn't sure. I meanβ¦" he met Pansy's eyes. I had met Malfoy on the train, and didn't think it was worth sharing a dorm for seven years with a spoiled, bigoted brat that reminded me a little too much of my muggle cousin."
"You chose Gryffindor," Daphne concluded.
'I said, Not Slytherin. I kept chanting about it. Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin. The Hat eventually settled on Gryffindor."
"So it's really Draco's fault that we are on the opposite sides of House lines?"
"Seems so," Harry replied after a brief pause. This was the first time he had actually articulated these thoughts out loud. Neither Ron nor Hermione were privy to this secret. "I was a dumb, frightened, easily impressionable kid, and Draco rubbed me wrong back then. I⦠I had just found out that I was an orphan because my parents were killed by a dark wizard, and Ron had mentioned how Slytherin was famous for producing dark wizards. But truth be told, it's Slytherin values that have enabled me to survive till now. Self-preservation, resourcefulness, cunning, and ambition. It's true that I've had no friends in the house of Snakes, and have never cared for the truth. I was narrow-minded, I admit, but it wasn't like any of the Slytherins ever came to introduce themselves to me."
He glanced at Daphne, who flushed and looked away.
"Maybe if I had gone with the Hat, I'd have learned of my Greengrass lineage right in my first year. I'd have explored my familial roots. I wouldn't have had to return to my muggle relatives every summer."
"Sister wouldn't have to stare at you for years," Astoria quipped.
Daphne glared at her.
"I think it's a good thing you didn't come to Slytherin," said Tracey. "It'd have been horrible to see Professor Snape deduct points from his own House."
Harry snorted. "He'd probably have tried to expel me right after the Sorting."
"Harry Potter in Slytherin," Tracey laughed. "Now that would've been something."
"Yeah," He drawled, "the Prophet would've declared me a budding Dark Lord right off the bat."
"Yes, all of that's very interesting," Pansy said blandly. Whatever she had in mind, she was going to unload it now. Whether it was because the stage was set, or because she was growing irritated, was yet to be seen. "Mind if I be blunt?"
Harry blinked. A slytherin demanding to act like a Gryffindor? That was practically a perversion of the natural order.
"Sure."
"Daphne's my best friend, and I know she's as bullheaded as she comes. I know somehow you and your godfather grabbed the Black inheritance out of Draco's hands. I'd have expected Daphne to hex you six ways to Sunday, but you've gotten her bewitched by some weird shit I cannot fathom."
"Very weird shit," Astoria emphasised.
"Very, very weird shit," Harry joined in.
The younger girl laughed.
"Funny," drawled Parkinson. "But I am not her. I know you're up to something, and you've got her and her dad in a twist. Self-defence or not, you killed fourteen purebloods in one night, and stole their magic. I don't know what you're fooling Daphne with, but I'd rather not see her around someone like that."
"Pansy!" Daphne began.
"No," Harry stopped her. "Let her have her say."
"I know you and Black think that with so many people dead, you and Dumbledore will have the Wizengamot to yourself. Well guess what? You won't. We won't be letting you turn this world into a damned magical copy of the muggle world."
It was Harry's turn to blink. He tried to shift mental gears, to keep up with the change in subject. Pansy thought he had forced Daphne into this business. And since Pansy wasn't someone that did too much of her own thinking, that meant that her family and her social circle also thought that he was some sort of deranged magic-stealing killer.
Wonderful.
Of course, that made sense. From Parkinson's narrow and single-minded point of view. A wizard that had killed fourteen people older and more experienced than him with an unknown power, even if the self-defence clause had saved his arse. Cops looked for people who had already committed crimes before they started looking elsewhere. Pansy was just among those. As far as she was concerned, he was a very dangerous con.
Pansy continued. "I've tried, but Daphne's being stubborn. So if you really are a Gryffindor, and want to do right by her, then let her go. You know what's out there. You know what lines will be drawn. Let Daphne go, and we don't have to have any problems."
Oh.
Oh.
So that's what this was about.
Yes. Everything was making perfect sense.
"Lines will be drawn, you say," he said. "And you're afraid it will trap Daphne in between sides. You're right. You and I will probably be on opposing ends, but guess what? That guy you call a Dark Lord, Tom Riddle? He's not on anyone's side but his own. He doesn't intend to lead you into some pureblood utopia. All he wants is to murder and kill and gain power for himself. And if you cannot see it, you're a bigger fool than I thought."
Pansy stood up. "Does that mean you won't let Daphne go?"
"Daphne is her own person," Harry said. "She came into my life by her own volition, and if she leaves, it'll be on her own volition. I'm not deciding for her."
"What a nice way to phrase that," Pansy replied, giving him a sickeningly sweet smile. "Of course, you'd want her to walk out of her own volition. When would that be, I wonder? Before or after the veela's shifted to your bedroom?"
"Ou⦠what?"
Pansy sneered at him. Her voice was contemptuous, confident, and seething with absolute conviction. "Don't hide it, Potter. I'm sure you think you're clever enough to hide it. But you're wrong. I have spotted you in Diagon Alley with that veela wench all over the summer. Dating. Are you really telling me you and Delacour are not seeing each other behind Daphne's back?"
Harry bit back the obvious comment that leapt to mind. Pansy was on the edge of outrage already. If she got him slipping, it'd only add more fuel to the fire. But Daphne was looking at him, her eyes filled with a weird mix of faith and apprehension. Faith at her knowledge of his character, and apprehension at her own inability to deny Pansy's words. No doubt the girl had poisoned her mind about veela and Fleur's growing familiarity with him. Besides, a bitter part of him pointed out, she isn't wrong.
Damn it. Harry thought. There was a tightness in his chest that he barely recognized. It was like the one he'd get whenever Dumbledore sent him back to the Dursleys. He knew that this conversation would come, had prepared for it, but now that it was there, he was a little surprised to discover how nervous he was about it.
"Harry?" asked Astoria, looking at him strangely. "What's wrong? Tell her she's gone crazy. Justβ"
She froze as the implication hit her.
"...Harry?"
Pansy's teeth showed.
"She's not wrong," Harry said, his eyes never leaving Daphne's frozen orbs of blue. "I am seeing Fleur Delacour."
"...shit!" Tracey surmised.
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