Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the intellectual property associated with Harry Potter.
Hi all,
Here's the next chapter. Harry attends his first Quidditch game and spends some time with Daphne.
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Chapter 28
14th November
It was the first weekend of Quidditch, and the school was buzzing with excitement. It was all the students talked about during breakfast in the Great Hall. Harry listened with half an ear while eating his scrambled eggs. Even if he didn't want to hear about it, Tracy and Ron's excited voices could be heard all the way down the table. The two were sitting next to one another and discussing the teams that each House had assembled.
"I don't like Gryffindor's chances this year," Ron Weasley moaned. "Oliver Wood had to scramble in order to get a Seeker ready for the first match. I watched the rookie at training over the weekend and he is utter shite."
The guy in question overheard Ron's words and shot him an angry glare. Ron was the type of individual who voiced his thoughts freely and without holding back. The Seeker's name was Mark Robbins, and he was in his fourth year. His face was pale and he refused to eat anything in front of him. It was clear that he was feeling nervous about the upcoming Quidditch match, and Ron's comments only made it worse.
"Ron," Hermione hissed. "Stop being mean. The poor boy looks like he's going to faint."
"So what?" Ron said belligerently. "If he can't handle the pressure, he shouldn't have applied for the Seeker position."
"Ron is right," Tracy nodded fervently. "Quidditch is too important to worry about people's feelings."
Wow, that was harsh. Is this what a sports fanatic sounds like?
"My brother Charlie was the Seeker last year," Ron groaned. "He was one of the finest Seekers Gryffindor ever had and now we can't find a half-decent player to replace him."
Harry noticed that every word Ron and Tracy spoke had a negative impact on the other Gryffindor team members as well. The trio of chasers slouched over their breakfast, looking depressed. The twins didn't behave like their usual boisterous selves, and they sent Ron looks that promised retribution. Wood looked like he was about to cry.
Tracy glanced at Harry with a meaningful expression. "If only somebody had not acted rashly, we may have had a player who could match Charlie's talent."
"I wonder who that person is?" Harry asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"This is no time for jokes," Ron told Harry. "The Gryffindor team is in desperate need of a new Seeker. You should speak to your grandmother. She loves Quidditch just as much as I do. Maybe she would let you play?"
"No chance in hell," Harry muttered.
Although he initially had no interest in Quidditch, he found himself becoming increasingly drawn to it. This newfound fascination could be attributed to his first experience flying on a broom. Nothing else compared to the exhilarating sense of liberation he felt while soaring through the air. He would have to wait till next year before he tried out for the team.
Daphne handed him the Daily Prophet and pointed to the front-page article. Harry groaned when he saw who had written it. Rita Skeeter.
To get an idea of what it was about, he skimmed through the article. There was no way he would waste his time reading the whole thing when it was bound to be garbage. Sure enough, it was another article targeting his grandfather. After she was forced to backtrack on her article about Harry, she's been trying to make trouble for Charlus. At the very least, Harry could admire her courage.
The article targeted his grandfather's political affiliations this time. She made some borderline-spurious claims about the alliance. Although she was cautious not to go too far, she deliberately portrayed the alliance in the most unfavourable manner. He was certain that his grandfather would not be pleased with her article. Harry glanced up at the head table and noticed his grandfather wearing a distinctly grumpy expression. Yep, not happy.
Ever since he took over as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, his grandfather has been happier. Who knew he would love teaching so much? Perhaps he enjoyed bossing teenagers around? The students were happy with the new professor. Although the class still studied dark creatures, he focused on teaching more practical lessons as well. Currently, they were in the process of learning the basics of duelling and were practising their ability to dodge spells.
Harry placed the newspaper down. By reading between the lines, it was easy to see that something else was going on. Despite her anger at Charlus, Rita was clearly not the main instigator of the article. He wouldn't be surprised if his grandfather's political opponents were behind it.
"You thought the same thing I did," Daphne observed.
"It's ridiculous," Harry sighed.
"How could a newspaper take so much direction from the Ministry?" Hermione scowled, stabbing her sausage with a fierce expression. "Journalism is supposed to be impartial."
"You won't get any argument from me," Daphne said. He could tell that she was upset with the article, although her cool expression didn't reveal it. After all, the article attacked her family too.
"There should be a completely unbiased newspaper," Hermione said. "We need something to counteract all the sheep getting brainwashed."
"Down girl," Daphne laughed. "That sort of talk can get you lynched. Have you forgotten about the Quibbler?"
"A professional newspaper!" Hermione stressed.
Her comment sparked an idea in Harry's head. Why couldn't there be another newspaper? There was nothing stopping them from starting their own newspaper. Although it might appear that the British magical world is not capable of accommodating a third newspaper, the situation can be easily remedied. Expose the Daily Prophet as the frauds they truly are, and remove their influence entirely. Although it might not be that straightforward, the idea of launching a new newspaper remains feasible.
He knew the best person for the job.
"Hermione, can I borrow some parchment and quill?" Harry asked. The girl always kept some on her in case she needed to take notes.
"What do you need them for?" Hermione asked as she handed them over.
"You were right," Harry said, scribbling furiously. "We should have an impartial newspaper."
"You are going to ask Lauren to do it," Daphne guessed.
"That's right," Harry replied.
Lauren wrote a series of articles for the Quibbler targeting Dumbledore. The articles were thoroughly researched and well-written. Dumbledore's reputation, which was already in question, suffered another blow. It was difficult to find anyone who still stood behind him, at least openly.
However, she hadn't written anything since then. Although the Quibbler gained many subscribers from the articles they published, it was still a small newspaper compared to the Daily Prophet. It would be hard to knock it off the top spot. As Hermione said, there were a lot of sheep in the magical world who didn't think critically enough. Instead, they blindly accepted everything the Daily Prophet published as truth.
Lauren and Sirius were now officially dating, so it was likely she would stay around for the long term. That meant she needed a job. Harry was sure she would enjoy the challenge of taking on the Daily Prophet.
"That's an excellent idea," Hermione said, pushing her plate away so she could look over his shoulder.
After he had finished writing his letter to his godfather, Hermione almost ripped the parchment from his hands and read through it. A snort escaped her lips and she grabbed another piece of parchment and wrote the letter again.
"How rude." Harry looked to his girlfriend for support, only to hear her laugh.
"Here, Harry," Hermione handed him the revised letter.
The letter, in addition to being more concise, included some points that had not occurred to him. As Harry read the letter, he quietly acknowledged that it was indeed better written than his own. Of course, he had no intention of admitting this to her. Such rude behaviour was not something to be encouraged.
Hedwig swooped down from the rafters at that moment to take the letter. She always appeared at exactly the right moment.
Harry and the rest of their club made their way across the grounds to the Quidditch pitch. Most of the students accompanied them, and their excitement was contagious. Harry cast a warming charm on himself to fight the cold, as the brisk morning air left him feeling chilly. Winter was almost here, although it had been frigid for the past week. In Scotland, it seems to arrive early.
"Cast the warming charm on me, Harry," Daphne said, her teeth chattering. "I would do it myself, but I can't feel my hands."
Of course, his friends wanted the same thing when they saw Daphne stop shivering.
They found some seats up high in the stands and sat down. Over the next ten minutes, the students flocked to their seats, with all four houses seated together. Their group was the only one to break the mould.
"I'm almost scared to watch," Tracy squeaked, waving a Gryffindor flag in support of her house. "Slytherin has won the cup for the last few years, and it looks like that trend will continue."
"Mainly because Slytherin gets away with dirty tactics," Susan scowled. "They cause more injuries than any other team combined. They should be banned from playing."
"Cedric is the Seeker for Hufflepuff this year," Hannah said with a giggle. "I think Hufflepuff has an excellent shot at winning the Cup."
A couple of rows down, Ron turned his head when he heard that comment. "Cedric is a talented player. I've seen him play in his backyard since he's my neighbour. But he's the only decent player Hufflepuff has. There's no way you can win with just the Seeker, or else Gryffindor would have had the cup in the bag every year when Charlie was playing."
"Why am I here again?" Terry sighed, a book in his lap. "I could be in the common room beside the fire."
Hermione made a noise of agreement, her head buried in a book.
The teams flew out onto the pitch and the crowd cheered. Lee Jordan, the commentator for the Quidditch games, called out each player's name as they appeared.
"It's really a shame Gryffindor lost Charlie Weasley as Seeker last year," Lee's voice rang out. "The Gryffindor team needs a strong side to take on the cheating Slytherins."
"Lee Jordan, keep your commentary impartial, or I'll find someone else to commentate the games," Professor McGonagall threatened.
"Sorry, Professor," Lee said and rephrased the last sentence. "If Gryffindor wants to counter the brutal methods employed by the Slytherins."
As soon as the game began, it became clear that the Gryffindor Chasers outmatched the Slytherins. With two swift goals, they surged ahead with a score of 20-0. As Katie Bell readied herself to score another goal, she suddenly had to dodge a strike from a Slytherin Beater, causing her to drop the Quaffle. Seizing the opportunity, the Slytherin team snatched possession and swiftly headed toward the Gryffindor goalpost.
One of the Slytherin chasers sent the Quaffle spiralling towards the left hoop, but Wood managed to save it. He threw the Quaffle back to Angelina, and she caught it. With Alicia and Katie right behind her, she quickly flew towards the Slytherin goal.
The match continued for the next twenty minutes, and the score was 90-60 in favour of Gryffindor. Slytherin's brutal tactics became more evident as time passed, and they earned penalties for their actions. Still, their tactics worked, as Gryffindor team dynamics slowly crumbled under the intense pressure. The Seeker from Gryffindor was the most affected by the Slytherin's playstyle.
It looked like he was absolutely terrified and didn't spend much time looking for the Snitch, unlike his counterpart. Harry could hear Wood shouting at him to get his head in the game. It had some effect, as Mark searched harder, although he still looked tentative.
Harry felt a frisson of dread. Once again, his senses warned him that something bad was about to happen. He quickly scanned his surroundings but failed to see anything obvious.
"Harry, look," Daphne said, grabbing his arm and pointing.
Harry's eyes followed where she pointed to see that the Gryffindor Seeker was struggling to maintain control of his broom, desperately clinging to the handle as it stubbornly fought against him, threatening to toss him off. A gasp rippled through the crowd as they realized what was unfolding before their eyes.
"Mark Robbins is in trouble," Lee shouted. "It looks like his broom has been cursed. Do you think the cheating Slytherin scum cursed his broom?"
For once, Professor McGonagall did not scold him. She hurried out of the commentator's box and joined the other professors in the stands. They held their wands at the ready, prepared for the possibility that Mark might fall from his broom. They knew all too well that a sixty-foot drop would be fatal.
Mark's broom became increasingly unruly, causing him to lose his grip and slip off. The onlookers gasped in shock as he dangled precariously, desperately clutching onto the broom with his hands while his legs flailed helplessly in the air.
Headmaster Flitwick cast an overpowered Cushioning Charm on the ground. Mark lost his grip and began to plummet through the air, releasing a terrified scream. The twins tried to catch him, but he had too much momentum, and his robes slipped through their fingers. As he fell, his speed gradually decreased until he landed softly with a gentle thud.
The professors had cast the Arresto Momentum spell on Mark. Combined with the Cushioning Charm, he was spared from injury. His broom landed on the grass a few feet away, clattering loudly.
"Was he using his own broom?" Harry asked.
"No, Mark's family is not well off," Hermione said, her voice trembling. "There's no way he could afford his own broom."
"It must be a school broom," Daphne said.
"It's an old Cleansweep broom," Tracy confirmed.
"That could have killed him if the professors hadn't been there," Padma said. She shivered, despite the effect of the warming charm. "Why haven't the school brooms been replaced?"
"Because the School Governors are cheap bastards," Daphne answered matter-of-factly.
Madam Hooch stopped the game and walked over to Mark. His teammates swooped down and gathered around him, showing their support. Although he wasn't the most competent Seeker, they understood how terrifying his experience must have been.
"Didn't the school receive a monetary donation from the sale of the Basilisk parts?" Hermione asked.
"It goes right into the Hogwarts School vault at Gringotts," Susan said. "Which means it is under the authority of the School Governors."
"That really sucks," Harry said. "I think if we want to donate something to Hogwarts, it must be tangible items and not gold. We need a reporter to draw attention to it so no one tries any funny business."
"If Lauren agrees to start her own newspaper, that would make a good first article," Harry smirked. "What would be the title? 'Student almost dies because the School Governors are too cheap', sounds like a compelling headline."
"In the meantime, I think we need to get the sorting done in the Room of Hidden Things," Daphne suggested. "We need new school brooms now."
"There are still many brooms to sort," Terry said. "Should we do it after the game?"
"We already have enough brooms," Tracy said. "Some of those brooms are antiques, and worth a lot of galleons."
"Then we already know what we're going to do for the rest of the day," Harry replied.
Mark Robbins refused to continue, so the Gryffindor team forfeited the game. Harry couldn't blame the guy. Who's to say there won't be another defective broom? Even the twins looked nervous, as they used school brooms as well.
The Gryffindor house returned to the castle with dejected expressions. It was a difficult pill to swallow losing a game like that. Because of the forfeit, Slytherin got an automatic one hundred and fifty points. The Slytherins were openly displaying their smugness, with Draco Malfoy's voice being the loudest and most obnoxious among them.
The group gathered in the Room of Hidden Things. They retrieved the trunk, which held all the brooms they had discovered so far. In total, they had amassed twenty-seven brooms, the majority of which dated back to the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
"This is a Calamity Star," Tracy said enthusiastically, pointing to an old broom with dark stained wood adorned with red and black accents. "There were only seven ever made. They were commissioned for the old Ballycastle Bats team in 1843. I don't know how it ended up in the castle but it should be worth a lot of galleons."
"How come there were only seven made?" Harry asked.
"They were poorly designed," Tracy said. "It killed one of their Chasers during a game. The brakes failed. He smashed into one of the hoops and broke his neck. They used to be called Sonic Stars before the incident. They changed it to Calamity for obvious reasons."
"And people are going to buy this?" Harry asked incredulously.
"It's part of history," Tracy replied. "The person who purchases it won't actually use the item; instead, they'll choose to display it in their homes to show they own a bit of history."
"Let's take the trunk to Madam Hooch," Daphne said.
"Not all of that has to go," Tracy pointed out. "We don't want to crowd her."
"Daphne, Tracy and I will go," Harry said.
"We will grab Tonks to continue sorting through the room," Susan said.
It was too bad that he hadn't got his map back yet. They could have found her quickly. But the three Aurors patrolling the castle still used it to search for Quirrell. Harry understood the necessity, but it was still annoying. He paid plenty of money for the map, and it turned out it had belonged to his father and godfather.
He didn't mind paying the twins for the map, as it ultimately saved his and Daphne's lives. That was before he remembered he could have called Wobny the house elf to save them. However, given his panicked state at the time, it is understandable that he forgot it was even an option.
Speaking of Wobny, Harry had an idea. He called for the house elf and inquired about the whereabouts of Madam Hooch. It turned out that she was in her quarters located on the second floor.
They made their way down to the second floor and rapped on her door. Madam Hooch took a moment to open the door. Her disheveled grey hair and the glass of whisky in her hands gave the impression that she had been profoundly affected by the incident
"What can I do for you?" Madam Hooch asked gruffly.
"We have a solution to the school broom problem," Harry said, speaking first.
Madam Hooch looked down at her drink wistfully before placing it on the nearby table. "Please come in."
The three followed her into the living room and sat down on the sofa. Madam Hooch looked at the trunk Harry dragged behind him but didn't say anything.
"What is this plan?" Madam Hooch asked. "If you want to donate galleons, I am afraid that will do nothing. The School Governors will still control it."
"How about donating the brooms directly from an anonymous source?" Daphne said.
"Plus writing an article about it so it gets the attention it deserves," Hermione added. "It will stop the School Governors from trying any funny business."
"Are you intending to use your family money?" Madam Hooch asked sceptically. "Have you got your guardian's permission?"
"We have another source of funds," Harry said, patting the trunk. "We discovered a secret room with some old broomsticks that should be worth a lot."
"Let me see," Madam Hooch said, a smile spreading across her face.
Harry opened the trunk and retrieved all the brooms from it. He laid them out on the floor under Madam Hooch's guidance, and she checked them out.
"These are all wonderful," Madam Hooch exclaimed, looking more energetic. "This Calamity Star is probably worth a few hundred galleons alone."
"That's what I thought," Tracy agreed. "How much can you sell them all for?"
Madam Hooch tallied all the brooms as she walked around the room. "Probably thirteen to fourteen hundred galleons if I find the right buyers."
"That is more than enough to buy some new school brooms," Harry said. "What would be appropriate? Maybe some Clean Sweep brooms?"
"They are good," Madam Hooch agreed. "But we will have plenty of galleons left over after buying enough brooms for the school."
"Perhaps you should get some more Quidditch equipment," Daphne suggested. "I'm sure everything else needs updating as well."
"All right, leave it with me," Madam Hooch nodded briskly. "You are doing a great thing for the school, and I appreciate it. The number of times a student has been injured because of the old brooms is too many to count."
"Hold on until we get back to you about a reporter," Hermione reminded her. "We want to give it as much exposure as possible."
15th November
Sirius and Lauren responded to Harry's letter the next day. There were two letters, one from Sirius and one from Lauren. Harry sat with the three girls in their common room as they read the letters. He chose to read Lauren's first.
Dear Harry
Your letter was surprising, to say the least. But it's funny that you mentioned starting up a newspaper because it is something I have been thinking about for a while. As much as I enjoyed writing for the Quibbler, the publication does not have the credibility for long-term sustainability and growth.
I don't foresee myself returning to America anytime soon, so I would love to take on a challenge. If Sirius helps with the start-up funds, I will make sure the newspaper becomes number one in Magical Britain. Do you have any ideas for a good name for a newspaper?
Lauren
Hermione squealed. "This is so exciting. We will have a newspaper that is not a mouthpiece for the Ministry."
"Steady on," Daphne said, amused. "This is only the beginning. It will take some time to set up."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You don't know my godfather. He is seriously smitten with Lauren. I bet he will throw a lot of galleons at it. I foresee the newspaper being up and running in a week's time."
"Let's read Sirius's letter," Hermione demanded.
"Bossy," Harry playfully teased her as he retrieved Sirius' letter.
Hey, pup.
What an awesome idea! Why didn't I think of it? I discussed it with Lauren and she seems on board. She's already got a plan, which suggests she has been thinking about it for a while. All I need to do is provide the galleons. Ha! If my mother could see what I spent the Black fortune on, she would be rolling around in her grave.
I will keep you posted on our progress.
Sirius
"Isn't this going too fast?" Daphne asked. "Aren't they going to take some time to think about it?"
"You heard Lauren," Harry said. "She was already thinking about doing this. We just pushed her to move forward with the idea."
"What would be a good name for a newspaper?" Tracy mused.
"It has to have 'truth' in its name," Hermione said decisively. "We want readers to know what is written can be trusted."
"A little too on the nose," Daphne groaned. "Where is the subtlety?"
"There are few magicals in Britain that even know what that word means," Hermione retorted.
"That's harsh," Tracy sighed. "But fair."
There was silence for a few minutes as they tried to come up with names for the newspaper.
"The Voice of Truth," Harry suggested.
"That's awful," Daphne replied.
Tracy shook her head. "Seriously?"
"Harry, leave the newspaper name to us," Hermione patted his head patronisingly.
"I need to find some better friends," Harry muttered.
That same day, Harry asked Daphne out on a date since it was time to spend some quality time with her. Since they returned from their week off, they didn't have much time to be alone together. They were usually surrounded by friends. Even though they were together, it wasn't the same. Harry would have liked to say it was him who realised this, but he would have been lying. Hermione and Tracy cornered him and let him know what was going on since he was a clueless male.
So he told his other friends that the Room of Requirement was booked for the night as he wanted to take Daphne to dinner. He enlisted Wobny's help to make the preparations.
Harry finally asked Daphne as they finished studying in the library in the early afternoon. He grabbed her hand and led her away from the others. Tracy and Hermione smirked at him and gave him the thumbs-up from behind Daphne's back.
"What is it, Harry?" Daphne asked with a raised eyebrow.
Harry ran a hand through his hair. Why was it so hard? They were already together. "I would like to spend some time together. Just the two of us."
Daphne smiled softly. "I would like that."
"I asked Wobny to prepare dinner for us in the Room of Requirement tonight."
"That sounds like a wonderful first date," Daphne kissed his cheek.
Harry blanched. "We haven't gone on a date yet, have we?"
"Yes, but the timing wasn't the most convenient, right before we left for Hogwarts," Daphne admitted. "Part of it can be attributed to Gabrielle and me. Since we were both afraid we would lose you to each other, we pushed you into a relationship. We should have taken our time."
"Really?"
"Yes, but we can discuss it tonight," Daphne laughed. "So we don't fall into awkward silences because we have nothing to talk about."
Later that evening, Harry got dressed in his dormitory. He wore a pair of jeans paired with a black dress shirt. He tried to tame his hair as best as he could but gave up when it refused to lay flat. When he headed downstairs, he got catcalls from the students.
When Daphne appeared at the top of the girl's stairs, he almost swallowed his tongue. She glided down the stairs like a regal princess. Daphne's outfit was not extravagant but rather consisted of a simple blue sweater and a dress that showed off amazing legs.
"You look amazing," Harry blurted, not caring that the other students were watching him.
"Thank you," Daphne said, smiling. "You don't look so bad yourself. Shall we get going?"
Harry held out his arm and she wrapped it around hers. He led Daphne up to the seventh floor and into the Room of Requirement. Wobny did a fantastic job. The house elf set a small dining table with candles and a vase of flowers. There was a bucket of ice with two Butterbeers sitting inside of it. To make the scene more intimate, the lighting was dimmed.
Harry pulled out a chair for her and she sat down. Pushing the chair in, he sat down opposite her and gestured at the menu. "I abused my power with Wobny and asked if he could prepare a special meal for us. When you see something you like, just call him and he will prepare it for you."
"I won't complain," Daphne said. "I hope you compensated him properly."
"It was a hard bargain, but I managed to get him to accept two galleons," Harry sighed.
"That doesn't sound like much."
"It is when he only wanted a Sickle initially. Do you know how long I had to haggle with him before he accepted that price?"
Daphne laughed. "A fair bit I imagine."
"Yep," Harry grinned. "He will also pop us back into the Gryffindor common room after our date. That means we can stay out until curfew is almost up."
"You have thought of everything."
As soon as they chose their meal, they called Wobny.
The house elf wore a waiter's uniform and had a dignified expression on his face. He looked so hilarious that Harry had to stifle his laughter. Daphne fared better, but he was sure she employed her Occlumency.
"Goods evenings, Miss Daphne and Mr Potter," Wobny said. "I bes your waiter for the evening. What can I get you?"
They gave him their orders and Wobny popped away. Harry burst into laughter and Daphne couldn't help but join in, her hands holding her sides.
"That was hilarious," Harry gasped.
"I think he makes a great waiter," Daphne grinned, her beautiful eyes sparkling.
After dinner arrived, they started eating their meal. They were not in a rush to start a conversation, as they had hours before they had to return to their common room.
"So, what did you mean before?" Harry asked when they had sated their hunger. "About the two of you afraid of losing me? "
"It's simple," Daphne replied, dabbing her lips with a napkin. "Gabrielle was afraid of losing the chance to be with you since you don't attend the same school as her. I was afraid to lose to her because she is so gorgeous."
Harry blinked. That was a lot to take in, so he grasped onto the last thing she said. "Are you jealous of her looks? Because you are gorgeous yourself."
"Thank you," Daphne smiled, pink colouring her cheeks. "But Gabrielle is on another level all by herself."
"It doesn't matter," Harry said. "How you look should be the last consideration when entering into a relationship. Personality and compatibility matter more."
"That's a sweet thing to say."
"I feel like Seamus is cursing me right now, calling me a hypocrite," Harry said. "Here I am saying that looks don't matter, and I have two drop-dead gorgeous women as my girlfriends."
"Yuck. Don't mention his name on our date," Daphne said, shuddering. She grabbed his hand. "Why don't we sit on the sofa?"
Daphne led him over to the sofa and they sat down together. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders while she nestled closer to him. He revelled in the amazing sensation of her soft body pressed against his.
"So why did you and Gabrielle choose me?" Harry asked. The answer was of importance to him. When he wore another appearance, girls mercilessly teased him about his face, so he always hated the way he looked. Still, he'd like to think the two girls liked him more than his physical appearance.
"I can't really say when I started liking you," Daphne said. "Maybe it was that day you took charge and rescued Gabrielle's family. That kind of selflessness I find really sexy. As for Gabrielle, you should ask her."
"And you still don't mind sharing me? "
"No," Daphne said. "Not at all. Which is really surprising to me. I never imagined I could share a boy with another girl."
"Well, you won't see me complaining," Harry grinned.
"Of course, you wouldn't," Daphne rolled her eyes.
They spent the next few hours talking, getting to know each other even better. Harry enjoyed himself immensely, but time flew by and they soon had to leave. Wobny popped them back into the common room and Daphne kissed him goodnight and headed up to her dormitory.
It was only the next morning that they learned an incident had occurred overnight. Harry and Daphne avoided a potential danger by not having to walk through the castle to the Gryffindor Tower.
So, what do you think? Next chapter, the club makes a dangerous discovery in the Room of Hidden Things.
Thanks for reading.
