Black Luminary

by YakAge

The war against the Dark Lord was the last straw. The oppressed, fed up with oligarchy, corruption, and injustice, sharpened their knives, rallying behind those who promised change. They won. Today, Magical Britain is a changed country – for the better. Hail and praise to our saviours! Finally, all is well. But listen! Can't you hear the grindstone turning still ...?

6. HD: The 'Bloody Thursday of Murders'

The Bloody Thursday of Murders Part I and II

---

Hermione was continuously giving him nasty looks that promised divine retribution, but stayed silent (at least for the time being). While sound was slowly restored to the hall, Harry made a show of trying to look indifferent, holding back his rampaging desire to laugh.

'Well...as promised, Hermione, I forgive you.'

This, however, might have been a bit too much for Hermione, who violently jerked her head around, looking for something to throw at him. 'Oh for the love of...Shut up, Harry! I can't believe you did this. You'll get yours, I promise!'

Harry turned towards his neighbour, some fifth year whom he had not talked with all this time, but who had looked at their bickering with interest. 'See? Perfect Slytherin. Already she makes ambitious plans for revenge.'

Hermione looked murderous even though some older Slytherins, to Harry's relief, seemed to find the situation rather entertaining. Hermione, in contrast, did apparently not appreciate the ongoing titter; without warning, she promptly made as if to stand, making Harry rather worried she might jump over the table to slap him. But suddenly, a furious shout sliced through the hall:

'DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SHIT!'

For the third time that evening, the hall was stunned to silence. Even Hermione, who had indeed been in the process of rising, looked around (nobody even noted her conduct). On the chair in the middle of the hall, all gazes concentrated on her, sat a fuming Daphne, ready to start breathing fire at a moment's notice.

A few seconds of incredulous and awe-struck silence muffled the hall completely. Finally, the hat proclaimed in an oddly small and restrained voice: '...Slytherin!'

Daphne flung the hat to the ground and stormed in Harry's direction. Professor McGonagall's lips were so thin Harry was already silently bemoaning his position, hoping to avoid at least one of those three towering tempers tonight.

Daphne thundered to his side and threw herself down without her usual amount of playful elegance. Eventually, she turned to Harry and spoke in a loud voice, completely disregarding the sea of silent onlookers.

'Can you believe that freaking rag of a hat tried to put me into Gryffindor?'

The whole Slytherin table erupted into mirthful screams of laughter and applause, some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws joining in, too. Even Hermione sat down and could not help but show a hesitant smile, her earlier outburst all but forgotten. It took several minutes for the staff to calm them down to adequate levels of noise before the Sorting could continue. Harry listened to the amused banter at their table.

'Can't believe I almost faked my way out of this. Best start of the year feast, ever!'

'Hey, Selwyn! Did you see McGonagall's face? Or Professor Snape smirking at Dumbledore? I wish I had a Pensieve to brighten my morning with the memories of that mien every day.'

Harry reaped additional benefits from the continued palaver, as Daphne, for once, seemed out of words. And so the Sorting continued without any further incidents, leaving Harry quite cheerful. Well, at least as long as he successfully ignored the bright colours all around him. Once he accidentally paid them attention, they seemed even more eager to catch his notice. Just as Draco sat down next to Hermione, a long thread of purple seemed to flow into his nose.

'Brilliant, Greengrass! I think even the Lestranges would've been proud.'

'Well, what would you have done?' Daphne demanded hotly. 'The hat was all eager to dig as deep as he could and strangely set to cross me. Apparently, someone had played him or something. Can you even believe that?'

Harry had the sudden urge to inspect the tablecloth in greater detail. Hermione, however, saw her chance for retribution come early and free of charge. 'Oh, that would be because of Harry, I guess. He tricked me into concentrating hard on Slytherin during and before my Sorting and, from what the hat let slip, even gloated how he would be able to have his way with the process no matter what.'

Harry was getting slightly nervous, very much aware of Daphne sitting right next to him. 'Hermione? Did we not have a deal to call it quits?' he asked delicately.

'We did indeed, Harry,' she replied smugly, 'but our agreement only dealt with the subject of your forgiveness.'

Harry was about to protest when he felt Daphne's arm sneak around his side and nearly jumped.

'In that case, I think this seating arrangement suits us just fine, doesn't it, Harry?'

'How did you manage to trick the hat, Harry? Oh, this is so good! I can't wait to write the others about this.' Draco still looked as if his birthday had come early, so Harry recounted his train ride and how he had managed to rope Hermione into concentrating hard on Slytherin while being sorted. The young Muggle-born Slytherin looked slightly bugged out, but Draco was having the time of his life. Harry, meanwhile, did his best (and failed miserably) to ignore Daphne's hand that rested on his waist and played with his robe. Draco eventually commented loudly on his many pauses and the stuttering.

'Aw, come on, Harry. You've seen Greengrass dozens of times. How pathetic is it that you can't even talk straight, just because she's sitting next to you?'

Harry grimaced but did not elaborate any further.

Tracey, whom Harry had not noticed until that point as she sat several places down the table, sniggered loudly and gave Daphne a not overly covert thumbs-up.

Once the ceremony was over and the actual feast had begun, Professor Hooknose made his way to the Slytherin table and gave Daphne a stern and cold look.

'Miss Greengrass, I must tell you that your behaviour at Hogwarts reflects on your house and, to an extent, even me. I would therefore advise you to refrain from such public displays in the future. Do you understand me?'

Daphne looked annoyed, but replied quite respectfully nevertheless. 'Yes, Professor.'

The teacher gave a curt nod. 'Good. Now, Professor McGonagall has also been kind enough to inform me that you were responsible for the incapacitation of a newly selected student of House Gryffindor, prior to the Sorting. As inclined as I am to let that matter rest, Professor McGonagall's personal interest in the matter does leave me little choice.'

Daphne seemed to cave in a bit, and Harry was quite worried himself.

'Therefore: Two points from Slytherin. Do enjoy the feast.'

Daphne looked doubtfully towards a prefect who sat two seats to the right of Harry, and who had obviously been listening in. 'Hey, Fawley! Is that much?'

The prefect chuckled. 'For breaking someone's nose? No! McGonagall would probably have taken at least fifty and added a month of detentions for good measure. Ah – I wish I could've been there.'

Draco was shaking with laughter, banging his goblet on the table in the process. 'You broke some Gryffindor's nose, Greengrass? I want to know everything!'

~BLHD~

After they had satisfied themselves with the feast and the muttering across the hall grew steadily louder, Dumbledore stood up. The noise died down as if he had banished it from the room.

'My welcome, especially to our new additions! I trust you will conduct yourself in a manner befitting your house and enjoy your time at Hogwarts!' After a short pause he added, eyes twinkling, 'From now on, at least. I have a few notifications for you, and if you all would lend me your ears, I promise I shall try to be as short as any old doter can be. First years should be aware that the outer grounds, including the Forbidden Forest, are out of bounds. Our caretaker Mr Filch has also asked me to remind you that several items of new design have been added to the list of restricted goods. You may survey this list in Mr Filch's office–that is, should you feel interested in such matters.'

Raucous laughter broke out from some place down the Gryffindor table.

'As a last thing before I send you off to bed, we have two new appointments to the teaching staff this year. Firstly, as Professor Dillybles has decided to leave Hogwarts in search of further challenges after twenty years of dedication, I would like to introduce Professor Rose, who has kindly agreed to take over Defence against the Dark Arts as a temporary replacement until further notice.'

Dumbledore indicated a remarkably beautiful and fair woman of about twenty years on the end of the staff table–to the enthusiastic applause of the students. Tracey's remark, however, was clearly audible even over the ruckus.

'Seriously? Rose? Pur-lease!'

Harry was keenly aware of Daphne's watchful look, so he only deigned to bring his hands together twice, earning him a slight nod of approval from his left and a few snickers from the front.

'Also, it is my great regret to tell you that after a life of devotion to the profession and some more years later, Professor Binns shall no longer teach the subject History of Magic. I am very much delighted, however, to announce that his post will be taken over by Professor Prewett.'

Loud screams of rapture answered this announcement from three tables, as a sturdy and prim old gentleman entered the Great Hall from behind the teacher's table.

'No way, Rendall Prewett? You've got to be joking!'

'I didn't even know he was back in Britain! Can't wait to tell my dad!'

Similar outcries of glee were heard from nearly all over the hall. Harry, however, glared at the man coldly. Hermione noticed that both he and Draco greeted this appointment with not much less than open hostility. Clearly, Draco was having a hard time resisting the urge to pull his wand. 'I can't believe that old git! Prewett? Merlin...'

Harry, to Hermione's great surprise, turned to Daphne, and Hermione was startled to see that the girl had tears in her eyes. 'I'm so sorry, Daphne. I really did not know,' Harry muttered.

Hermione watched them exchange a pained look before Daphne took Harry's hand and let her head fall on his shoulder. And, for once, Harry did not object, patting her back awkwardly instead.

They stayed like this for quite some time, long after Dumbledore had dismissed the students.

Tracey–who had promptly joined them–and Draco held their tongues, which struck Hermione as quite odd from her limited experience with the both of them.

Finally, Harry spoke in a soft but strained tone. 'Come on, Daphne. Tracey will get you to our common room, and then you can either have a talk or jump straight into bed.' When she did not react, he added in a hoarse whisper, 'Can you imagine Amy's expression if she saw you like this?'

That seemed to do the trick, and Daphne hesitantly raised her head. It was clear that she had been crying, but she made a valiant effort to look haughtily at Harry through red eyes. 'And who would ever tell her? Malfoy's terrified of her, and you always try to evade her schemes.' She sniffed slightly and added, 'But thanks, anyway. And you know what? I think I'll write her about how much time I spent with you today. And you not being able to run away, just to annoy her!'

Harry grimaced embarrassedly, flashing Tracey a subtle glance. Not long after this, both girls were gone, and Harry turned to Hermione. 'Sorry, but I think it would be better if you left those two alone for tonight. Maybe she'll tell you later.'

'Ahm–alright, Harry. I think I'll turn in too, though. Some of the teachers have been giving us pointed looks for minutes, in case you hadn't noticed.'

When it was only Draco and him, Harry sagged back and took a few deep breaths.

'You okay, mate?'

'Yeah, I'm fine, Draco. But watch over the girls for me, will you? The matron wants me to spend the night in the infirmary, and I don't need some bullshit about Hermione's or Tracey's blood tonight. Scare them off or hex them to bits, have it your way.'

Draco nodded, but inclined his head ever so slightly. 'Why bother with Granger though? I know you had your fun getting a Mudblood into Slytherin, but are you sure you want to play her babysitter for the next six or seven years?'

Harry felt himself weakening by the second. The colours seemed to steadily intensify again. It was also decidedly hard to listen to Draco's voice over the menacing humming all around him. 'No. She will have to fend for herself–eventually. But I think I'll allow her a somewhat fair start. She may be useful later on. She could probably also keep some of the more unfriendly crowd away from me.'

Draco nodded, sudden understanding glinting in his eyes. 'She's your bait.'

'Yeah well, I have enough to worry about without those fools jumping me in my own common room. She'll lure them in, and I will finish them off; Hermione can't complain. Anyway, you know my view on such matters. While I personally am not the biggest fan of Muggle-borns, I recognise that we need some of them to improve our situation.'

Draco nodded again and relaxed a bit. 'You're pretty pale, you know. Sure you're fine?'

'Yeah, I'm fine. See you tomorrow, Draco.'

'Sure. Get better, man! You look like a wet blanket.' Draco turned around and walked towards the exit, but Harry called after him one last time.

'Draco, please make sure no complete half-wit tries to have his way with my trunk tonight. I am not too eager to start my body count on the first night of school.'

'Haha, I'll consider my actions based on who is stupid enough to try it, then. Wouldn't mind a few Notts or Yaxleys less. Have a good night, Harry.'

Harry had, of course, not put any wards on his trunk that might actually kill someone, but he could be sure that Draco would spread the word.

Harry managed to drag his progressively unresponsive body to the infirmary, but he had to pause several times to close his eyes and take a breath. He really needed to get this solved; he was a sitting duck on a silver plate right now. Merlin–he felt like some kind of potion sniffer.

With a humongous effort, he crossed the threshold to the infirmary and tried to act casually. Madame Pomfrey, as he had suspected, was already waiting for him.

'Where have you been, Mr Black? I've waited for nearly an hour now!'

'Sorry, ma'am. Got lost.' It was a pathetic attempt, but he had other troubles right now. Keeping upright for starters.

'Well, sit down then. You look deathly pale, young man. Anything to say?'

' – Eh, blood pressure maybe, ma'am?' Merlin, this is embarrassing. Being unable to even make up some story is the worst of it.

'Very astute, young man. Now, if you are quite done impeding your own treatment, we may actually get you better. Change into that pair of pyjamas while I fetch something to get you some rest.'

She made her way through a door in the back and left Harry alone. He changed and positively fell on the bed. Harry thought he should really solve this issue during the next week, as he doubted he could keep his sanity otherwise. Grimacing, he felt like he was diving into a vortex of strange sounds, shades and other impressions. The maelstrom pulled him away from the lights of the infirmary, far, far away...onwards.

~BLHD~

He awoke early in the morning feeling surprisingly refreshed. The tormenting strands of light were hardly visible at the moment, and he was happy to leave it at that. Madam Pomfrey emerged like a fierce vulture spotting its prey.

'I found you half-conscious only a few minutes after I'd left! In the name of Asklepios, why do you refuse to tell me what's wrong with you?'

Harry shrugged. 'Sorry, ma'am. But I promise I will come to you should it get any worse. I do feel quite good at the moment. Much better than yesterday and certainly better than I had expected.'

Looks of confusion, incredulity and chagrin chased one another on her face, but she only shook her head. 'Mr Black, it is my duty to look after the well-being of our students, and I am more than willing to do so regardless of their wishes. If you do not cooperate with me, I'll be forced to keep you in the infirmary until further notice. Do you understand me?'

Harry deflated and tried his best to pacify her. He did have confidence in her skills, after all. The position of Hogwarts matron was only offered to accomplished masters of their craft. His problem, however, was a bit too personal to share with someone not of the family.

'I am sorry, ma'am, truly. I have great respect for your work, and I do not only say this to spite you. The next time it gets out of control, I should be able to tell you more...maybe.'

Madame Pomfrey looked disappointed, her voice sinking half an octave. 'If that is truly how you think you should handle this matter... The next time you bleed all over the castle, I will keep you here for a handful of days though, rest assured.'

Harry nodded. That was good enough. He would never have to tell her, even if he did bleed all over the place, after all.

'I warn you, Mr Black!' she huffed. 'If you refuse to come to me, I am going to employ the services of Miss Greengrass, as she seemed most anxious to have me look you over.'

That was a very low blow as far as Harry was concerned. He answered in a low voice of resignation, 'Yes, ma'am.'

The matron flashed a small smile and nodded. 'Good. Now off you go, breakfast is being served right now.'

Harry was surprisingly hungry and quickly made his way to the Great Hall. To his relief, he found a chipper Daphne talking animatedly to Tracey. He walked a bit further down the hall and seated himself next to Draco.

'Oh, hey, Harry. You look better.' He grinned and added, 'Almost like some kind of sheltered little prince.'

'Very funny, Draco. Any trouble yesterday?'

'Nah, all fine. The older crowd seemed right amused by Granger's sorting. The smarter ones also realised they would have a bit more room to breathe with her around.' He casually pointed his fork in a direction, and Harry followed his gaze to Theodore Nott and some older students Harry did not recognise, though he suspected one of them to be a Shafiq. 'You may want to be careful around those, though. I think Nott is after the prestige of besting you. He is the fourth son of their house, and he looks eager to rise above his station.'

Harry nodded and thanked Draco. He was his cousin, too, of course, but Harry held a few reservations about that part of the family. He was easy to talk to and always very eager to help him, but Harry knew him to be a slippery piece of work. He did not think it likely that Draco would sell him out or anything, yet it was perfectly within his character to have his own plot in place, which allowed him to somehow benefit from Harry's presence.

'I also heard some Gryffindor shits in the hallway talking about doing the public some good and offing some Darkers, but it was impossible to tell if they were serious. You may want to keep the long-winded, half-dead excursions through the castle down for the time being, mate.'

Harry shot him a look, but Draco only grinned. 'Aw, come on, Harry, don't be mad! Yesterday, you looked worse than at Greengrass junior's last birthday. Remember? The whole business with the pretend-marr...'

'Shut it! Hello, Hermione.'

Hermione looked curious and confused, while Draco grinned broadly. That freaking Malfoy had to have seen her coming...

'Good morning, you two. I've just been to the library. I can't wait to have a better look, you know. There were literally hundreds of rows. Sadly, some seemed off limits. Do you know what classes we have today? I can't wait to get started, this is going to be so exciting...'

Draco rolled his eyes, but Harry did not mind her lengthy descriptions of the library that followed or her speculations towards the curriculum. He himself felt rather inquisitive about these matters.

Hermione droned on, and all Harry had to do was nod a few times to have some peace. Absent-mindedly, he let his wand glide through his fingers, taking comfort from the familiar feeling of warmth that spread up his arm.

Half an hour later, Draco looked to be nearing his breaking point; Hermione had shifted towards him as the designated target of her rant, thanks to Harry's lack of responses. Luckily, Professor Hammernose chose that moment to hand out the timetables, and Harry could not help but groan.

'What kind of torture is this?'

The little piece of parchment had a nasty surprise for them that day:

Thursday:

Charms: Slytherin – Gryffindor

Transfiguration: Slytherin – Gryffindor

History of Magic: Slytherin – Gryffindor

...

Draco was on the verge of open revolt. 'You've got to be kidding me! Do they actually want to reduce the number of students by Friday? This is the "Bloody Thursday of Murders", I tell you.'

The professor turned around slowly and addressed Draco, a small smirk on his lips. 'Mr Malfoy, do your best to keep your rage at bay. If one of my students was found to be guilty of wallowing in the entrails of Gryffindors, I should be most displeased.'

Draco waited until their Head of House was out of sight and spoke in a low voice full of malice that didn't reach Hermione. 'Then we will have to do our best not to get caught.'

~BLHD~

After breakfast, Harry, Draco and Hermione made their way to the charms corridor. Unkind whispers buzzed around them like insects drawn to the light, making the Muggle-born witch rather jumpy. 'Some of them look rather determined, Harry. I-I think you should be careful.'

Harry returned a mischievous smile. 'What are you talking about, Hermione? You are one of us now!'

She groaned, but did not reply. When they arrived at the classroom, Harry realised with a feeling of discomfort that there were at least twice as many Gryffindors as Slytherins in their year, even though they were the strongest age group in Slytherin for many a year. Looking around, he spotted Daphne, who patted the seat beside her and smiled brightly at him. Remembering his promise to her, he made his way across the classroom, feeling like a prisoner on his way to the gallows.

'Smile, Harry, smile! I'll do my very best to keep you in fine company on this beautiful day.'

Harry just managed to suppress a sigh, but could not help hearing Tracey and Draco, who seemed to share a table, snigger, obviously set to enjoy a free show during the lesson. Rolling back his sleeve, he loosened the grip on his wand and made a show of pointing it in Draco's direction; the laughter stopped immediately.

Daphne had seen this obviously, and her expression grew concerned. 'Do you still keep your wand in your hand wherever you go, Harry? I thought it had gotten a bit better recently...'

Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably, but kept his face clear of emotions. 'Yeah, well, it helps me calm down, you know.'

While Daphne did keep some measure of distance for now, the seating arrangement did not ease his mind at all. This, combined with the rather intimidating size of unfriendly glares, left him feeling slightly nervous.

'What could you possibly do with that wand anyway, Black? You try to make a big thing out of it, but I bet I could take you on anytime. I've had defence lessons, you know? Real instructions. Not the little family sessions you fucking Darkers need, because nobody wants to teach you loonies.'

Harry looked to his right and saw a freckled face full of disgust. The red hair was a hint, but he had seen this specific Weasley in Flourish & Blotts anyway. It was true that some of the prominent families nowadays received official courses at the leisure of the Ministry. He had heard rumours about how Aurors taught them, though it wasn't clear how much of that gossip was authentic. Only ten families or so directly qualified for this training in any case. The son of a Prewett, however, was likely included.

Before he had even considered his options, Daphne shot a furious and challenging look at her next would-be victim. 'Shut your trap, Spotty! I'm glad your pathetic excuse of a family could get you trained up, so we don't have to suffer your averageness, at least.'

But Weasley did not back off. Instead, he gave Daphne a nasty smirk. 'Speaking of pathetic, why are you sucking up to Black so much, "Greengrass"? Can't settle for one name or the other? It'll take more than getting laid to get back what you so obviously want, you know?'

Daphne looked ready to throttle him and jumped onto her seat, pointing her wand straight at Weasley's face. With a feeling of great regret, Harry realised that behind her livid facade, deep grief sprung from her eyes. Compassion for her situation rose to his mind, and he stood up as well, placing himself between Daphne and Weasley. The little ponce had said something he really shouldn't have...

'That is quite enough. Ten points from Slytherin, and ten points from Gryffindor. This classroom is no stage for impromptu duels!' Professor Flitwick, whom Harry knew of by reputation, had obviously heard more than bode well. He did not comment further, though, and strode towards the blackboard.

Weasley looked triumphant, as he had obviously hit close to home. He smoothly settled down with a nasty grin on his face. Daphne had trouble calming herself, but finally sat down, rather closer to Harry than strictly necessary, as if to spite the red-head's words.

Flitwick took out the register and professionally worked his way towards the end of it without giving anything away. After he had finished, he tapped his wand on the board twice, and the course aims for the next few terms turned up.

'This class will be quite busy without you jumping down each other's throats. I will not tolerate any hostilities, as we are on a very tight schedule. Needless to say, the magic you will be learning here may be of great use to you later, whether you wish to be an Auror, a Healer or take on any other high profile profession. Indeed, charms are the common ground from which many other magical arts can be derived. Many spells you may learn in your defence lessons, for example, are arguably charms. Enchanting and the Healing Arts also have deep roots within the theory of Charms, so you should pay great attention especially when learning the basics of the craft...'

Harry's thoughts drifted away. It wasn't that tiny Flitwick's little speech was uninteresting. In fact, he held deep esteem for the prowess of this wizard. Most unnervingly, however, it seemed the emotional turmoil he had suffered a few minutes ago had loosened his grip on the whole problem of maddening hallucinations. Currently, he was suffering from ethereal visions of a distinct glowing around most people in the room and strange sounds that floated in dozens of variants across the room. He was not easy to freak out in matters of magic, but having to hear nearly forty bodiless voices snarling and hissing in some strange tongue started to creep him out pretty badly. In a truly desperate attempt, he put every ounce of strength he had into his Occlumency. Incredibly and to his great relief, this seemed to dull his perception of these strange events a bit. And while they were still much stronger than when he had awoken, he could at least make out what was happening around the classroom again.

Daphne, to his immediate discomfort, seemed to have noticed that something was wrong and had leaned in, trying to have a look at his eyes. Whatever she had found there did not please her–at all. She painfully grabbed his arm and whispered to him, 'Harry, will you finally tell me what the hell is going on with you? I have only seen you like this once in all the time we have known each other. That one time, you know–the library business, after which you had to lie in bed for weeks. Frankly, you look terrible!'

In an even lower voice she added guiltily, 'And Malfoy told me how you nearly collapsed half a dozen times on your way to the infirmary last night. Merlin, I'm so sorry for not noticing, but will you please, please tell me what's going on?' She paused again, and added fiercely, 'I'll hit on you in front of the whole school at every meal until you tell me, you know?'

'Please don't! I really do not know myself, and stop looking like that, I swear it's the truth.' Harry made sure no one was listening and added in a small voice, 'If you really want to know, I'll tell you. But not in the common room! This has to stay between the both of us for now. No exceptions! We can have our talk in the old storeroom down by the infirmary if you so ardently insist. It's pretty far off the beaten track...'

'Of course I want to know, you stupid prat. Meet you there after dinner, and no excuses! I won't let you get away without telling me this time and you better beli-'

'What seems to be so urgent, Miss Greengrass, Mr Black? That was quite enough chit-chat for one lesson, or do you have any contribution to make towards the actual subject? I should also mention that your continued lack of attention has been noted; maybe you should make an effort lest I be inclined to take measures.' Little Professor Flitwick seemed quite annoyed by now. Harry had somehow completely forgotten–again–that he was not having a discussion on private property. It was embarrassingly clear that he was not used to being in the company of people he didn't know. Daphne had obviously not paid any attention as well, so he was unsure what exactly to say.

'He can't do it anyway, Professor. It seems a bit mean to let him squirm like this.'

'Thank you, Mr Nott, but I did not ask for your personal opinion on the matter either.'

Weasley seemed to revel in their trouble, and Harry took some vigour from that. 'Eh, sorry, Professor. As you probably realised, I have not paid your subject the attention it warranted and have therefore not taken notice of your concrete instructions. I am truly sorry, I meant no disrespect.'

The class laughed, and many Gryffindors were gleefully awaiting Professor Flitwick's boiling point. The small charms master, however, to their general surprise, offered a sincere smile.

'Well, at least you're earnest with your failings. For your personal information, we were discussing levitation charms as an example of applied theory, and while I had planned on making you work on them in private in a few weeks, I will allow you the chance to redeem yourself, and Miss Greengrass I suppose, if you perform the charm at an adequate level right now for the benefit of your classmates.'

Harry hesitated. He was unwilling to reveal too much, especially in front of a member of staff and dozens of Gryffindors. The charm was not very advanced, of course, yet it would take an average student at least some hours to master it completely.

Conflicted, he let his gaze wander and saw Daphne looking at him with a playful smirk on her lips. Under the table, she suddenly laid a hand on his thigh suggestively. Harry panicked instantly, flicking his wand with the spell on his mind, quite forgetting to even mutter the incantation.

After a lightning fast gush of turbulent magic, half the furniture in the class and several Gryffindors rose to the ceiling, to general outcries of disbelief and cursing. 'What the...let me down this instant, you bastard!' 'Did the pampered prince really just do that?' 'Holy hell! That looks dangerous!'

Daphne had a very smug look on her face and stuck out her tongue at him. Hermione looked torn between annoyed surprise and excitement. Professor Flitwick switched from annoyance over honest disbelief to supreme delight; he chuckled merrily before waving his wand to cancel the spell, levitating the Gryffindors gently back to the floor.

'Bravo! Oh, Bravo! No wonder you felt confident enough to ignore the instructions, Mr Black. That was such a good show. I would have been very satisfied had you managed to even levitate your quill, but I do appreciate this most pleasant surprise. Take thirty points to Slytherin!'

The small man looked ecstatic now and rewarded Harry with a very big smile. As an afterthought he added, though clearly good-naturedly and in high spirits, 'Please do keep your chatting down to an acceptable volume though, Mr Black.'

~BLHD~

'Way to show off, fucking half-blood pretender!' Someone bumped very heavily into Harry after the lesson had ended, and he turned around just in time to see Nott stalking away with one of the other first years.

'Cursed Notts. Seriously, they're a blight on Wizardkind. But don't you think you went a bit overboard, mate?' Draco had initially been laughing for minutes, but was now quite businesslike. 'I mean, it was a good show, but I don't think you should draw this kind of attention.'

'Yeah, you are probably right, Draco. I did, eh, not really mean for that to happen either.'

Meanwhile, Daphne walked by, innocently chatting with Tracey, yet he could still make out that she was in a very fine mood indeed. Draco raised a questioning eyebrow, but Hermione interrupted his pondering.

'How did you do that, Harry? You told me you read ahead on the theory of charms, but that was a very powerful application of the levitation spell, wasn't it? And I didn't even hear you say the incantation. On the train, I thought I simply didn't hear your low muttering, but this time I am certain you didn't even open your mouth! How is that even possible?'

Harry felt quite uneasy, being unmasked in his first class already.

'I, eh, truly think the whole thing was a mishap. But if you really want to know, as long as your concentration is good enough, and you have enough power to back it up, it does not matter what kind of targets you choose for charms, or how many for that matter. Casting without uttering the incantation is possible with any branch of magic. It just requires a good deal of discipline. And yeah, well, I did indeed tell you how I read ahead on the theory, but never did I state that I wouldn't be up to the task of making use of them practically. I thought your stay with Slytherins for a day now would have made you a bit more careful with matters of interpretation and indications, Miss Granger.'

Hermione looked grumpy, and she was not to be deterred like that. 'Like you can change the topic so easily. You make it sound like everyone could imitate what you just did, but I know enough of these things that I don't believe you one bit! Just how much do you know about charms? I want to know!'

'Some,' he answered vaguely, reminding himself of someone else who had used the same phrasing to him. 'I would rather not share.'

Hermione was seriously disgruntled by now and stepped into his sphere of privacy. She lifted an accusatory finger and tapped him on the chest. Harry immediately became very tense and could not keep a rising sense of panic out of his mind.

'No, Harry! You landed me in this mess. I won't allow you to back out so easily, that's just not right! Do you know how long it has been since a Muggle-born has been sorted into Slytherin? I checked: nearly 60 years, for your information. I have to live with all the hateful looks, from both Muggle-borns in other houses and the pure-bloods of Slytherin. You can't shoo me away like this!'

~BLHD~

She stepped further in and could see his confidence crumbling.

To her surprise, he roughly pushed her out of the way and ran down another corridor. She blinked and distinctly heard Draco snarl, 'Great! Now you've really done it, Granger. Good job.'

She frowned, but eventually followed the mob of first years down towards the transfiguration department, as she had no way of knowing where he had escaped to and the lecture was about to start in a few minutes.

Hermione entered the classroom deep in thought, just in time to see Draco whisper something into Greengrass' ear. Whatever it was that he said caused the annoyingly gorgeous witch to shoot her an icy look of palpable fury. Confused, she sat down and thought that maybe she was in trouble. It had not seemed like a big deal to her, but Draco did look visibly angry and Greengrass was on the verge of strangling her if her gaze was any indication. Suddenly noting the tabby cat that sat on the desk at the front, she let out a squeak of surprise as it transformed before her eyes into the stern witch that had led the sorting ceremony. Remembering the place Harry had seen fit to throw her into, her earlier doubts faded a bit as she definitely had a rough deal herself. And Harry had not even apologised in any form for his behaviour! That frail milksop really was getting a rise out of her at times. He would switch so regularly between insecurity and pomposity. She'd seen him strut towards the Sorting Hat with a look of ultimate arrogance, as if all the attention didn't faze him at all. Which was the real one? His gleeful expression after seeing his scheme play out was too realistic to be a mere act, but at times his smile looked strangely strained.

Putting the matter out of her mind for now, she concentrated on Professor McGonagall, who tried her best to impart on them just how dangerous transfiguration could be if it was used unwisely. To demonstrate the usefulness of her craft, she conjured a flock of giant tropical birds that were promptly transfigured into a few dozen matchboxes. Hermione could not help but feel elation at this marvel of spellcraft and was eager to put in hard work. With newly emerging annoyance, she remembered how easily Harry had–in the blink of an eye–performed a feat of magic she'd previously considered impossible. Her jaw set, she felt her determination rise to new heights and was eagerly awaiting her chance...

Half an hour later, she was very proud when Professor McGonagall assessed her work as 'Excellent' and awarded Hermione with a thin smile and five points. She seemed to be doing really well compared to the rest of the class too, though by the end of the lesson several more had managed to transfigure the match.

As she was picking up her bag and went to the door, she found it blocked by Greengrass and Tracey. The bubbly half-blood was strangely serious, while Greengrass still emanated cold rage. Looking around, she found the classroom deserted and felt slight apprehension tingling in her gut. Tracey shot her best friend an unreadable glance, went outside and muttered, 'I'll keep a lookout,' before shutting the door softly.

The expression on the other girl's face was really scaring her now. This might have been why she instinctively fumbled for her wand, but in the end, found another stuck to her nose before she could even remember where she'd put her own. She tried to keep her voice calm as she shifted her field of vision, but the classroom was truly empty.

'Where is Harry?' Hermione was aware how awfully subdued and croaky her own voice was. She knew that he would most likely be able to calm her down before something serious happened.

In response to her question, the wand in her face began to radiate a foul red light, and Hermione came to the conclusion that this was evidently not the thing to ask right now.

'Oh, now you remember? Did you even realise he's been missing for the entire lesson, you fucking bitch?'

The other girl spoke quietly, but her dangerous tone made it clear that she wished nothing more than to shout or possibly hex her to goo. Likely both. Hermione delicately licked her lips and asked in honest puzzlement.

'You mean he wasn't here? But he was outside the charms classroom just then...?'

'How freaking stupid can you be, you rancid tramp!? He ran away, you did this to him, and you don't even fucking realise it. If only you knew how I long to beat you to a bleeding pulp right now...'

Hermione, however, didn't have any trouble believing that at all. It didn't take a genius to see Greengrass was quickly losing her cool. 'Er–you mean just because I stepped a bit further in and tried to force the issue with him earlier?'

'If you do that again, I will gut you in your sleep, Granger! How you ever got to be in good standing with him is completely beyond me.'

Hermione paled.

'If you ever try to abuse his weakness to women in that way again, I swear I will mince your body to bits and feed them to the rats in the dungeon.'

The girl seemed beyond fury. Slowly it dawned on Hermione that Greengrass had just very convincingly threatened her life. Tears began to flow down her face, but she tried with all her might to keep a level head and beat the increasingly animalistic instincts taking a hold of her.

'W-What do you mean, I was in "his good standing"?' she breathed.

The other girl roared a cry of hot anger and kicked with all her might at Hermione's knee. A sickening crack! A tenth of a second later, pain erupted down her leg, the world started wobbling violently, and she fell on the floor. Now howling in earnest, she could hardly make out the other voice over her own sobs and screaming, as she held her leg, tossing on the floor.

'How many other girls have you seen him talking to, you pathetic cunt? It took Tracey two years to get him to tolerate her presence. Two years! If you can't behave, STAY – THE – FUCK – AWAY – FROM – HIM!' That last sentence was actually screamed even louder than her own ongoing cries of pain.

Greengrass stormed towards the door, yet stopped in her tracks and turned one last time.

'You should really fix your attitude, Granger. Otherwise, I don't think you'll ever make it home again. Asking too many questions is not always appreciated, especially not about private things like magic, family or the past.'

She opened the door. 'If you so much as breathe a word of this, there is going to be real trouble, Missie.'

Hermione continued to sob, but she did not even dare to stand up for fear of getting violently sick. And as the agony was slowly overwhelming her, she began to scream hysterically–panic of not being found crushing any coherent thought...

~BLHD~

Tracey was throwing her nervous glances every now and then as they made their way towards the dungeons. Merlin–I really lost it in there.

Suddenly, her best friend stood in front of her and pulled her into a deep embrace. Daphne could feel a bit of tension leave her body. 'You alright, Sweetie?' Tracey's golden eyes were full of concern, her voice thick with emotion.

Fuck, now even Tracey's worried.

'Yeah...' She hugged the other girl back. 'Yeah, I'm better now. I really saw red just then. Can't believe that useless sack of flesh didn't even realise he was gone.'

Tracey just continued to hold her tight and stroke her back. 'I was a bit worried there for a while, you know? Being complicit to murder is not exactly how I imagined spending my first day at school.'

The 'soft' scolding helped calm her anger a bit, but with a feeling of despair, she felt hot tears gush down her face. 'I can't believe she made him go through that again, Tracey...'

She couldn't hold back any longer and began to shed tears without restraint. 'You know how long it took to even get him to where he was. Galloping Gorgons, I hope he's not clamming up all over again...'

She could not bear the thought, but deep down she knew how fast things could turn bad with old wounds. This thought only further increased her own anxiety; she could hardly keep standing and howled in misery.

Tracey held her fast and continued to softly pet her back and hair, but she just could not calm herself, thinking back on how bad things truly used to be...

She continued to wail for an eternity, until Tracey gently guided her into an empty classroom and pushed her into a seat.

'I'll be back in a minute, Sweetie, I promise. It'll be all better.'

She had run outside the classroom, and Daphne heard some hastily muttered spells thrown towards the door. Suddenly feeling very exposed and lonely, Daphne could not help but hang her head in shame as she crept towards the back of the room and tried to calm herself, tears still flowing endlessly down her face. She didn't even care any more that she had completely lost it two days in a row. Forcing Harry to comfort her that one time was far beyond forgiving and no doubt the worst of it all. Immersing herself in doubt and disgust, she didn't pay any attention to her surroundings until Tracey kneeled in front of her and offered her something to drink.

Like a lost soul in the desert, she drank clumsily whatever it was Tracey held out for her. After she had finished downing the whole thing, she felt Tracey sit down, putting an arm around her. Daphne just surrendered to her helplessness and drowned herself in the silent company of Tracey.

It took a while, but eventually, she managed to hold in the tears. Looking apologetically at her best friend, Daphne whispered in a cracked voice, 'I'm such a disgrace, Tracey.'

Tracey, however, simply smiled at her warmly. 'Nah–you're not. Holding up for now?'

'Yes, thank you...' She sniffed, truthfully not knowing what else to say. These situations always were highly uncomfortable for her. 'What was that stuff you gave me right now?'

'Right now? Daphne, you've been in here for nearly an hour now. I gave you our family special: Calming Draught spiked with the best Firewhiskey there is. My mother says it takes quite a bit of skill to blend two potions or a potion and any other beverage, but I don't know what the fuss is. Chucking all the stuff into the cauldron wouldn't even tax my cooking skills.'

Daphne couldn't help herself and let out a subdued laugh. 'What should I do now? This is such a mess. If that Granger bod talks, I'm out of school tomorrow!'

'Let bimbos be bygones, Daphy. You should worry about Harry! He wasn't in the common room, and Draco said he hasn't seen him since charms. He's not been to lunch either. Do you have any idea where he may be hiding?'

Daphne gaped, experiencing a flush of shock and shame. Oh shit, he wouldn't be there, would he?

Fighting the newly arising panic, she pushed herself up. 'Oh no...Tracey, I have to go. Thanks! I mean it. I'll tell you later how it went...'

She ran towards the door but stopped short before turning towards her best friend who had a relieved expression and a grin on her face. 'You should be in History of Magic anyway, Tracey!'

She turned around the corner and could hear Tracey's faint snicker. She dashed along the corridor and down the stairs, jumping the last nine steps altogether and landing not very elegantly, but she couldn't have cared less right then. Left – right – right...Thank Merlin her gran had taken her to Hogwarts more often than she could count, so she did not run the danger of getting lost, at least. She tackled a few second years that stood in her way and didn't even bother looking back as someone grunted in pain and several others shouted after her in outrage. Fucking little shits! Keep your head out of your arse, and maybe you could have avoided this.

She ran and ran and ran until she finally arrived at the infirmary. Carefully peeking inside, she realised he wasn't there. Oh no, oh no, please not that! She tried to ease her breathing and slowly walked towards the lonely storeroom. She'd never been inside andonsidering her many exploits during the summers here, that meant something.

With anticipation, she slowly crept closer and–to her dread–found the door knob drenched with blood. Oh shit! Trying to rein in her raging fear, she opened the door...

As the place was completely dark, she remained standing by the door, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the lack of lighting. After her vision had improved a bit, she saw a trail of blood leading to the corner furthest in the back, where a huddled figure lay–quite still–with his head between his knees. She let out a scream of shock, but the person didn't react or move at all. Freezing emptiness seemed to creep into her head...

It took her a while to focus again on this one messed-up day. Thinking for a few seconds (and noticing tears welling in her eyes again), she turned around and sprinted back into the infirmary, only this time she didn't even try to avoid any racket.

As soon as she had taken twenty steps into the bright room, the matron emerged from her office and looked at her in alarm.

Daphne tried to force her voice into some sort of semblance of calm. And failed spectacularly. 'Get me a Blood Replenisher, a Calming Draught, a potion against headache, something to get someone to warm up, and a pain reliever!' she shouted at the old matron.

'Calm yourself, young lady. Sit down, and we shall talk. This is all completely nat...'

It was too much for Daphne. Not even bothering to try holding back her tears, she screamed in a maniacal fashion at the feather-brained women. 'IT'S NOT FOR ME, YOU SENILE OLD CRONE! Bring it all here, or I swear I'll make you!'

She drew her wand, and the matron gave her a look as if she was truly demented. Her mouth opened and closed stupidly for a few times, and her eyes widened in shock.

Daphne snapped. 'NOW!' she cried in exasperation over the shattering of two windows, as she truly lost control of her rampaging feelings.

The sound of breaking glass seemed to restore the brain of the old hag, and she took a small pouch, hastily adding at least a dozen potions, draughts and some other things. Daphne couldn't care less, as she paced up and down the room and impatiently watched Pomfrey rummaging through the cupboards. After a minute or so, she thrust the thing into her hand, but did not immediately release her hold on it.

'Administer these, heeding the order which I packed them in. If he doesn't wake up within half an hour after dispensation, mere potions will no longer suffice.'

Daphne nodded, and the matron let go.

She flew back to the storeroom, towards the crouched figure she knew to be Harry. She noted the blood that was still trickling down his nose and had completely drenched his robes. Risking a bit of light, she spotted–to her great shock–that there also seemed to be an older trail of blood under his eyes and ears. Sobbing spasmodically, she forced the entire contents of the small bag down his throat, all the while trying to keep her shaking hands from letting go of the different vials.

After she had finished, she gently wiped his face free of his blood and her tears. After a while, his complexion seemed to get a bit better, and the bleeding slowed down, but he still didn't wake until Daphne was nearly desperate enough to get help.

Finally, his eyelids twitched, and she could feel the small body in her arms come alive again. His eyes opened, and, for once, she saw the terror and fright completely undiluted etched on his face. When his emerald eyes found hers, he relaxed ever so slightly, but with what must've been an epic struggle, he still backed away a few paces. It hurt her to see him like this again, yet there was nothing she could do. So she sat down on her heels again and watched him breathing loudly, evidently fighting to master his fears.

She leaned back, as relief and anxiety fought a stormy battle within her. Daphne tried to keep her snivelling to herself, but her emotions were so raw after the last few hours that she wasn't even sure any more how to react to anything.

'Water...'

She gasped at how lean his voice sounded. 'Lobbo!' she commanded to the thin air. A crack, and not a second later the relatively young house elf stood at her side. She wasn't exactly allowed to call him here, but at the moment, that didn't matter. The elf looked at the both of them, his eyebrows raised in an expression of deep worry.

'Mistress called Lobbo?'

'Bring me a carafe of cool water and two glasses. No word to anyone of this!'

The elf snapped his fingers, and an elegant crystal jug with two equally pricey tumblers stood before her. Immediately, she filled one of them with water and slowly pushed it towards Harry. He picked it up and took a sip. She realised he was shaking pretty badly.

'A warm blanket, Lobbo!'

The elf snapped his fingers again, and a finely embroidered dream of cashmere landed over her. She folded it and held it at arm's length. Harry hesitantly took it, but crept back at once. With a flight of grief, she observed him smother himself completely in the piece of wool until only a bit of his face was visible.

'Something light but strengthening to eat and two sets of tableware, Lobbo!'

For the third time, the elf clicked his fingers, and a small assortment of snacks, warm soup, bread and fruit emerged in the middle of the room.

'Thank you, Lobbo. You are not to communicate with anyone about this, and you'll do your best to not arouse suspicion regarding this matter. If you are by strange happenstance busted, you'll tell Gran or my mother that I've forbidden you to speak of this matter, and that I'll personally speak to them about this. Do you understand?'

The eyes of the small creature grew very wide. 'Yes, Mistress!' was all he said before he left.

She began to fill a small bowl with the thin soup and put some peeled apple on a saucer. Once again, she carefully slid both 'dishes' along the floor towards Harry. After she had backed away and sat down again, he took hold of the bowl without any enthusiasm. Shifting her look, she saw his eyes now devoid of any outward emotion at all; they might as well have been dead. She shuddered slightly and felt deep remorse that this whole affair had come to pass, but forced herself to some small helpings of soup and bread, before ultimately leaning back in silence...

~BLHD~

It must have been a bit more than leaning back, for when she suddenly jerked her eyes open again, she realised that she had a familiar blanket wrapped around her. All too well-known dread rose inside of her, and she hastily looked around. Thankfully, she instantly spotted Harry, who still cowered down in the corner of the room, watching her, his emerald eyes glowing in the dark.

She relaxed immediately.

This is so messed up. What to even say in this situation?

'How late is it?' Oh, you're a fucking genius, Greengrass.

'About midnight, I think.'

'WHAT? You let me sleep for half the day in here?'

'You seemed very exhausted. And I needed some time to think.'

'Really! And that's everything, is it?'

'I slept for a few hours, as well.' His voice was still coarse, but at least she didn't have to witness the eerie, emotionless void again.

'How come nobody came looking for us?'

'They did.'

Daphne raised an eyebrow. It seemed best just to keep the conversation going and see where it led them. He, however, only indicated a place a few yards behind her. She turned her head with a sense of foreboding, but could only spot a small old knife lying next to a broken table on the ground. With a shiver, she ignited her wand slightly and nearly screamed when she saw the blade full of dark red stains.

'Holy crap! Harry, what happened?'

He only shook his head and indicated the same place again.

Thinking it best not to argue with him right now, she hesitantly crawled towards the knife. As she came closer, she noticed several small splatters of blood on the floor. Her eyes widened again, and she gave Harry a timid glance before she made her way around the table, not daring to think what she might find there.

Harry's voice trailed softly across the room. 'Be careful where you place your hands, Daphne.'

Drawing slight comfort from him calling her by name, she stopped in her tracks and brought her wand closer to the ground without moving from the spot. With a frown, she recognised that what she had thought to be random blotches of blood did kind of form patterns. Her imagination must be playing tricks on her; if she really, really leaned in, some of them reminded her of very strange images or symbols. Something began to bumble behind her eyes as she studied the blood on the floor. Suddenly, with a jolt of dread, she had the impression that something else was staring back...

She jerked her whole body around and stared in shock at the frail figure in the corner.

'Sweet Morgana! You drew a ward in your own blood, Harry?' Her voice was but the barest of whispers.

'Nothing else to write with in here. Also, I had not tried that particular ward before, and it is quite complex indeed. Sadly, I was very sure that it would be beyond my present abilities, especially in my current state of mind, so I had to resort to...less reputable means to bridge the gap.'

She shuddered, but just managed to not freak out. Her father had once told her a bit about such things. It was hard to remember specifics; that conversation was so far in the past. A happier and more innocent time...

Turning back towards the blood on the floor, she could not keep a sense of wonder out of her voice, while still feeling overwhelmingly repulsed. 'It works?' Daphne beheld the presence of a genius.

'Yes, but only for one or two more hours. It took me a second try, and it was much more taxing than I had anticipated, in any case. I fell unconscious for a few hours and did only wake an hour and some before you came around.' His voice was even and sounded, above all, tired.

She turned around and could not keep the sadness from her eyes. He looked back at her and, as she crept close, did not back off. 'What does it do?'

'Keeps us safe from prying eyes...for now.' he answered calmly.

'Where...?'

Harry seemed to know exactly what she meant, and he rolled up his left sleeve. As he turned over his hand, she saw a long and ugly cut from the root of his thumb to the crook of his arm. Moving as if in trance, she took his hand and slowly brought the repulsive stigma to her forehead, suppressing her sobs and tears.

Between her frantic attempts to force some air down her lungs, she asked in a feeble voice, 'Pomfrey can get rid of this, can't she?'

Harry only calmly shook his head. 'No, I don't think so. There is also the chance that she recognises it for what it is if she is a bit too inquisitive.'

Daphne let out an involuntary wail and pressed his arm against her harder than ever. He winced slightly, but didn't stop her.

After a while, she gently let his arm fall to her side and took his hand in both of hers. Harry, meanwhile, deliberately raised his right hand and, to her amazement, tenderly wiped the blood and grime from her brow. It was very rare for Harry to touch her of his own volition, and a bit of warmth spread throughout her limbs. For what felt like ages, she managed her first small smile.

'How are you?' Way to ask him after all the other stuff, dork.

'Better. But I doubt I can make my way down to the common room within the next few minutes. As I have learned through some rather painful experiences, it would be best if I did not overexert myself.'

She was just glad to have something to do, so she played with his hand a bit. After a while, she braved the question on her mind, albeit very cautiously. 'Does–does this have something to do with your...attacks?'

She was truly afraid he wouldn't tell her, but she somehow got the feeling his extreme exhaustion had left him a bit delirious and approachable. She felt slightly guilty about trying to wriggle it out of him while he was in this condition, but he had promised her. Twice. Regardless, she could not have foreseen this particular 'answer'.

'How is your Occlumency?'

'What? You picking up mind-pilfering now, or what? I warn you, Black, one step into my mind and you'll be very so-'

He waved his right hand, which now held his wand. To her great annoyance, she felt the immediate effect of a silencing charm on her.

'Please, Daphne. I'm not up to arguing right now...' Harry mumbled weakly.

He looked only half-awake. She studied his face and thought he looked so much more vulnerable than when she'd last seen him on Tori's birthday, not so many weeks ago.

She deflated and tightened her grip on his hand.

Harry calmly repeated his question. 'How is your Occlumency?'

And with another wave of his wand, she felt the charm on her lift.

'Not too bad, I hope. Mother told me there would be some no-goods at Hogwarts who could not keep to their own mind, so she hired a tutor. So yeah, I studied it a bit beyond the mandatory stuff.'

He nodded, seemingly satisfied. She got the impression that he was trying to wrap something in words or maybe the other way around. He was truly hard to read sometimes.

His soft and faint voice brought her back to the present. 'I experience magic.'

She stared at him, stupefied. Those three words did not make any sense to her in this sentence. True...every wizard or witch worth their wand could, to some extent, feel when powerful magic was invoked. It was the same, only much, much weaker, as when you touched an enchanted or cursed object. You somehow just felt it. This was as fundamental as magic got.

'What do you mean, you feel it? All magicals can feel it, Harry.'

'No. I see magic and listen to it.' He gesticulated wildly, obviously unsure how to explain himself. He opened his mouth, but shut it again before sheepishly adding, 'I can smell it, too.'

She could not help but snort a bit. 'Smell the magic? Harry, are you sure you're alright? Maybe some of those potions went bad...'

'I myself only completely understood this a few hours ago, Daphne. Please, I am serious here.'

His desperate tone caught her attention. Harry practically never begged. Well, not counting getting her to back off in some cases...

'I still don't understand, Harry. This is weird. Can't you give me an example or something?'

'Eh – yeah, sure. When I was home, I would always wake at night when Arcturus was working in his workshop or study. At the time, it was only colours or slight sounds or maybe a familiar feeling. That was is. Not any more, though...'

He looked like a puppy adrift at sea on a very small piece of wood. With termites.

'When I cast the Silencing Charm a minute ago, I didn't just feel the rush of magic. I saw something white and utterly transparent erupt from my wand and form a bubble of sorts with you at the centre. It had a high pitched sound like a chime, but it was not very loud. It smelled of gooseberries, too.' Seeing her look, he added, 'Please don't ask about that. I don't understand these comparisons any better than you do.'

'How can something be white and transparent? And, for that matter, how can you see something completely transparent, anyway?'

'I really don't know.'

She had a peek into his eyes and only saw complete helplessness. She did have trouble believing him, but there was no trace of that devilish expression that always shone from his eyes when he was up to no good. As much as this bewildered her, there was absolutely no way she could not trust him when he so obviously asked for aid.

'Wow, that's so weird, Harry.'

'You do not know the half of it...' He seemed truly resigned.

With an attempt to lighten the mood she asked, 'Why–what's the weirdest thing you've seen yet? Try me!'

'Wands talking,' was his deadpan answer.

'What? They talk? For that matter, are they alive?' This is unbelievable.

'Eh...I'm not sure, to be honest. I think so, but it is difficult to tell for sure, as I fail to understand their...language? But I can to some extent have a guess at their mood or something like that.'

'What? Really? What's your wand doing right now?'

'Purring, I think.'

'And mine?'

He looked uncomfortable and started squirming a bit. 'I think it wants you to hex me to bits for some reason. That wand has been strangely snarky with me all day.'

Daphne raised an eyebrow. 'We are talking about wands here, are we not, Harry?'

Harry visibly flinched. 'I think so. Please, Daphne! Not too long ago I only thought I heard bodiless voices no one else could hear, and now it's actually worse. I am hardly sure of anything at the moment!'

Daphne couldn't help but laugh. 'But this is incredible, Harry. Think how much this could help in all things spell-related! No wonder you are so proficient with wards, you can actually see them, can't you? I really wish I could see enchantments...'

To her surprise, he looked very grave all of a sudden. 'Do you have any idea how much magic is all around us at Hogwarts?' As if in memory, he suddenly lifted his free hand to cover both of his eyes.

It took her a while to understand, but when she did, she grasped his hand so tightly that he let out a small whimper of pain. 'Holy...! Harry! Is that why you tried to shut your eyes before the Sorting?'

He only nodded and looked at her like some brat caught pranking. 'That was the first time I was assaulted with all the impressions. It was even harder to make any sense of it back then. It's gotten somewhat better now. Until I get really exhausted or...'

His voice faded away and it looked like he had said something he didn't initially mean to divulge. But now that she finally had him talking, there was no way she'd allow him to hold back.

'Spit it out, Black!' She gave him a fierce look and he relented, as she'd known he would.

'Or emotional upheavals, it seems,' he mumbled. 'Back in charms, I noticed how Occlumency helped me a bit just as I was having a small 'attack', as you call it.' His voice sounded apologetic, and she knew he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable about this. That did indeed go a way towards easing her guilt–but only a little. With a pang of shame, she remembered how often she had sought him out at school to make him squirm. In the course of one day, no less.

'I'm really sorry, Harry. It's just that I've really been very much looking forward to seeing you here. I know I've been going a bit overboard at times, and I realise this isn't easy for you, but you're always so much on guard around us at home. You should see Tory! She's giddy with anticipation right now, just because I wrote her a few lines about you; how you were unable to flee from me all the time at Hogwarts and how much time we get to spend together...'

This seemed really painful for him, but she was very glad that he was, at last, ready to talk about it for a bit. 'Sorry, I...I really hate this, but it's just not that simple, you know.' After a short pause, he added with a sigh, 'Well, I think it may become slightly more bearable concerning you, at least, but please don't push me with this; it will have become slightly less painful when Tory finally comes to Hogwarts, I hope.'

That, finally, was a hopeful sign, and so she managed to put her worries to rest. Apparently noting her relaxing a bit, Harry continued, 'That whole Granger business was, as a matter of fact, not as bad as it would have been in the past. I, eh, would likely just have shut myself away for a few hours or days. But now any panic attack automatically triggers a complete breakdown of my concentration, and the whole castle hammers away at my mind. This in turn only increases my state of panic and you know–that's how it got so bad.'

'Don't worry, Harry. Granger won't bother you like that again.' Seeing his look, she added, very much embarrassed that the memory of her losing it with the silly girl still looked pretty bad in hindsight. 'But please don't ask. I, uh, I may have overdone it a bit, but I think it'll be fine.'

Way to convince yourself, Daphne. Good job!

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow, though he refrained from asking. Instead, he brought his hand to his temple and groaned lowly. 'Merlin, what was in those flasks anyway? I've been feeling like that one time Cranky indulged my curiosity about Firewhiskey.'

Ha – knew he wouldn't have been so loquacious normally. Maybe I should put a serious effort into potion, after all. They seem to be pretty useful...

Realising her giggling seemed to make him slightly wary, she smiled kindly and waved a hand in a vaguely dismissive fashion. 'Oh, I just hadn't heard that story yet. Yeah, those were some potions that, uh, were bestowed upon me by Madame Pomfrey.'

That may be stretching it a tiny bit again, Daphne.

Harry seemed equally unconvinced, so she gave in to him–and herself. 'Okay, fine! I screamed at the top of my lungs and threatened her at wandpoint. I may also have destroyed a few windows in the process. Happy now?'

He chuckled and shook his head. 'I'm really not sure which one of us is in deeper trouble after their first day of school.'

He tried to stand up, and she immediately pulled him up, still clutching his left hand. 'Let's go. I think it is past one now. This could get ugly if we get caught. Also, I cannot just leave the ward; others may make a connection with me or about my abilities, especially if I'm ever forced to use it again. But once I destroy it, whoever controls these wards around us will become aware of a general disturbance in their own defences.'

'What? Your ward also protected us from the headmaster?' It was hard to keep a slavish look of longing from her face. How good was this?

He simply nodded. 'Yes, I told you it keeps us from prying eyes. But please be realistic in your expectations, Daphne. I highly doubt I will be able to cast that ward through conventional means for some years to come.'

She smirked and nudged him playfully, 'Aw – come on, Black! Get a move on and put some work into your warding. This one seems useful. How difficult can such a teensy ward really be, anyway?'

He looked her straight in the eye. Though she knew he could spot the waggishness, he still shook his head. 'Difficult enough that Professor Flitwick would probably personally sign my NEWT papers in an instant, and take me on as his private apprentice if I could perform it for him in class through regular means, dearest cousin.'

She kept looking at him, aware how much she must be goggling, as he silently flicked his wand and the blots of blood on the floor first began to disperse and then suddenly caught fire.

'Let's go!' he muttered softly.

How can he have so little confidence with skills like his? This is so infuriating! Sometimes I really just wish to hex him good.

~BLHD~

Thankfully, they found their way back to the dungeons without any random encounters, and Harry was feeling the best he'd been yet since entering Hogwarts. That may be in part due to the potions that made him feel light-headed and thick as a troll, but he was fine with that. For now. He knew he would never have told Daphne so much otherwise. For some strange reason, he just couldn't bring himself to regret it.

She gave him a brief hug, and he fought hard against the urge to give a nervous twitch. He did not quite succeed, but it could've been worse. She didn't comment, at least.

'Thanks for everything, Daphne, really. I...I'm not good with this whole talking thing, but it wasn't so bad this time. Still, we should try to get some rest now, I think. We'll be in heaps of trouble tomorrow, anyway.'

His cousin gave him a warm smile and finally let go of his hand. 'Sure, Harry. I enjoyed our talk as well, though next time I wouldn't mind it being slightly less dramatic, without the casual displays of blood magic and sans any existential crisis involved, promise?'

She gave her usual wink, and he could only grin oafishly in return. 'Yeah, alright.'

'Ha, got you. Did you just agree to have another long personal talk with me? Why thank you for the offer, I think I shall take you up on it, dear Harry.' He could only return an incredulous look as this wily cousin of his made her way towards a staircase, the girl's dormitories presumably. But she turned around once more.

'Oh – and one Galleon on me that I'm in waaay more trouble than you. I mean, sure you tried, with your meagre attempts at forbidden magics and skipping out on pretty much all of your classes on your very first day, but I think I still win out, as you didn't even bodily threaten a single person the entire day. Better luck next time, Harry!' She blew him a kiss and left him standing there like a puppy in the rain.

It took him a while to finally wrap his mind around the absurdity of her words. Yeah – that was the famous Black family humour alright.

Slowly making his way towards the other staircase, he eventually found the dorms for the first years. Even his alarmingly lulled senses insisted on him being silent. He was very aware how the entire front of his robes was drenched in blood and would not have looked out of place at a particularly enthusiastic public butchering. One does have to be mindful of such things lest one be caught in compromising situations. Feeling quite smug about himself, Harry entered the dormitory – only to find the motionless and bloody form of Theodore Nott sprawled on the floor before his trunk.

...

...

...

I knew I should have raised Daphne's wager.