Interlude I: Girl talk

Daphne silently closed the door, taking a few stumbling steps, before she leaned against the wall to calm her racing heart.

What now, Daphne?

All of a sudden, she stood stock-still. Tracey! Tracey had known. And she hadn't told her. Even if Harry had urged her best friend to keep it to herself, it somewhat hurt to know that she had been deceived by the pair of them. Sighing, Daphne realised she would forgive Harry any day (not that he would ever be told, of course). Tracey, by contrast, would have to atone, and she could start right now by filling her in completely.

Daphne straightened her robes. A new wave of annoyance washed over her as she realised that she hadn't even gotten Harry to comment on them. And it had taken hours to get ready…

Taking a few determined steps, she halted again to take off her shoes.

Doesn't matter any more, I guess.

Breathing in deeply with relief, she allowed her face to reveal a smile as she strode barefoot around the corner–only to crash into something small and lumpy.

'What the…!' Daphne just managed to stop there, but her verbal restraint sadly did not prevent her from going arse over tit.

Rubbing her back, she struggled to her feet...and looked down to see none other than Cranky. To her great surprise, that strange old house-elf looked up at her with an air of extreme disappointment.

'Has Miss Greengrass already finished her business with Master Harry?'

I repeat myself, but what the actual fuck?

'Uhm...yes?' she answered carefully and in a subdued voice, unsure of where this was going.

The old elf sagged a bit more, shaking his head in a theatrical display of sorrow.

'Cranky has failed Master Harry. Oh, Cranky is so sorry!' He cried out pleadingly. After a while, he looked up again, sniffed his nose and eyed her shrewdly. 'Maybe next year! Cranky shall speak with Master Arcturus at once. There simply must be another ball next year.'

With the faintest of pops, the elf was gone.

Merlin! That was strange.

Shaking her head, Daphne doubled her pace and approached the old staircase. Skipping every other step, she merrily made her way to the second floor. A few steps before she could be seen from the landing below, she steadied herself, removed all traces of the relief that was still welling up inside of her from her face and gracefully strut the rest of the way, loftily stroking the old wooden handrail as she continued her descent.

Tracey still stood exactly where she had left her. Daphne shot her an imperious glare and was pleased to see her friend wince slightly.

'We will talk. Now!' Daphne announced coldly.

The small witch dropped her head and sighed. 'Where?'

Daphne shrugged. 'Minnie!'

One loud crack later, and the small female elf was standing before her with her eyes wide open.

'Yes, Miss Greengrass?'

Daphne's expression softened a touch. Kreacher was boring, and as for Cranky, well, he was so strange that several new words and possibly some languages would have to be invented along the way to accurately describe him. Minnie, however, had always been very sweet to her when she had visited one of the Black estates in her childhood.

'How did you do that, Daphne?' asked Tracey, her voice full of surprise.

'Arcturus told me the elves are supposed to respond to their guests' wishes tonight. Isn't that right, Minnie?'

The elf nodded happily. 'Minnie is so glad to be able to serve the kind Miss Greengrass tonight.' A few seconds later she raised her hands to her face and added in shock, bowing profusely to Tracey. 'And Miss Davis! Minnie is hoping Miss Davis has been enjoying the ball tonight?'

Tracey seemed abashed and shuffled her feet. 'It was grand, Minnie. Grand.'

The elf seemed relieved nevertheless and resumed gazing up at Daphne again. 'Miss Greengrass called Minnie?'

'Oh, yes, of course. Could we perhaps have the library or the small study for an hour or so? We need to have a private talk.'

'Minnie is needing to check on that, Miss Greengrass. Minnie has been expressly forbidden to let guests beyond the guest quarters tonight.'

With another thundering crack, the small creature left.

Strange. I just visited the third floor, didn't I?

Not a moment later, Minnie apparated back and bowed again.

'Master Arcturus is sending his regards. Most private rooms on the second floor are already occupied, but the Evening Lounge is still free.' She looked questioningly between Tracey and Daphne and asked hopefully, 'If that would do...?'

Daphne smiled. 'Perfect, Minnie. I know the way, but could you please send us some small snacks? And some butterbeer for me?'

The house-elf nodded happily. 'Everything will be ready when Miss Greengrass and Miss Davis enter. Is Miss Davis wishing for something to drink as well?'

Before Tracey could open her mouth, Daphne interjected coldly, 'Some plain water for Tracey will do.'

Tracey gulped, as Minnie vanished before her.

Daphne took her best friend by the sleeve and dragged her through the corridors until she opened an inconspicuous door to her left. The room was bright and spacious, mostly due to the panorama window which had been charmed to always display spectacular sundowns. Daphne remembered how she'd laughed herself silly when she had entered this room for the first time, as the romantic image seemed horribly out of place in comparison to the grand yet austere atmosphere of the house. The armchairs were of a soft beige and stood around a sublime piece of art that served as a table. The whole thing was made up of a polished sheet of glass covering a beautiful giant druse, housing thousands of smaller crystals that spectacularly reflected the unobtrusive light from the window, showering the room in warm reflections of broken light.

Daphne sat down and grabbed a butterbeer from the tray on the table, gesturing for Tracey to take a seat opposite her. But the small witch had not moved from the door yet and looked from the table to the window, unable to cope with the drastic change in scenery.

Daphne couldn't help but snigger. 'It is a bit of a shocker, isn't it? Especially compared to all the dark wood in the house.'

Tracey simply nodded and took her allotted seat. Daphne's smile faltered the moment she remembered the reason behind all of this. 'Start talking, Tracey.'

Tracey shrunk visibly, looking apologetically up at her. 'I don't know everything myself, and I don't even know how much you know… Please be a bit more specific, Daphne.'

Trying to calm herself, Daphne narrowed her eyes dangerously. 'If you so much as lie about the weather tonight, I'll ask Professor Snape if he can get Finnigan to partner with you every lesson until you take your OWLs!'

Tracey looked scandalised but nodded regretfully either way. In their last lesson before the holidays, their Head of House had shot Tracey a nasty look while proclaiming loudly how Finnigan, who had managed to melt two cauldrons in one lesson, was still only the second worst student he had ever had to suffer in lessons.

Daphne drummed her fingers on the plate of glass for a while, before she snappishly demanded, 'Does Malfoy know?'

Tracey averted her eyes. 'What does he have to do with anything?'

Jumping to her feet, Daphne growled at the little girl opposite her, holding in the tempting desire to throw the bottle. Why does she have to make it so difficult?

Drawing a deep breath, she sat down again and spoke in a cold voice, 'Please! Do you think I'm that daft? If Narcissa and Bellatrix settled for the same hairstyle and colour, you wouldn't be able to tell them apart. And we all know to whom the Lestranges owe allegiance.'

Suddenly, she felt like she was being doused with melt water. Her mouth dried up instantly as a terrible suspicion sprang to her mind. Not daring to dwell on those frightful thoughts any longer, she whispered in a husky voice, 'Merlin! You …You're not actually related to the Blacks, are you?'

The other girl looked at her in complete shock. After a while, she answered in an erratic voice, 'Not more directly than the Weasleys are or the Potters were, I suspect.'

Daphne breathed out wildly and took a deep gulp from the bottle.

No, that simply can't be! No matter how paranoid the Blacks are, it was I who presented Tracey to Arcturus and Harry, wasn't it? And I know her father is Muggle-born.

Slowly calming herself, she refocused on her first question. 'So? Does Malfoy know?'

Tracey filled her glass with a bit of water without looking up, obviously wanting something in her hands as well. 'I don't know. I would hazard a guess that he suspects something is up.'

'What is up then?' snapped Daphne fiercely.

Her best friend flinched again. 'Harry likely intends to keep everyone safe from the slander and all that.'

Daphne couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and ask sarcastically, 'That's everything? He's worried about a bit of gossip?'

'No. It's a bit more complicated than that. Besides the physical assaults one would have to take from the Puff and Gryffin blokes, the political situation has become rather complicated.'

Daphne was rather taken aback by this. 'What? Just because someone tried to frame Harry?'

Tracey grinned in return. 'Salazar, Daphne! How did you come to be in our house again?'

She couldn't help herself and retaliated by poking her tongue out at the small witch. 'Let's–hypothetically–pretend that I didn't consider any political implications because I was wrapped up in my personal mess, Tracey.'

'Hypothetically?' her friend challenged her, sporting a superior smirk.

Daphne nodded emphatically. 'Hypothetically!'

Tracey's grin slipped from her face like a raindrop from a sheet of glass. 'It's a big deal, Daphne. Someone obviously challenged the Blacks by trying to frame Harry. The moment this plot failed, everything froze to a stand-off. The challenging party obviously cannot make another move so soon, otherwise the risk of being discovered becomes exponentially higher. Arcturus would no doubt call in every favour necessary to completely annihilate whoever dared attack his grandson. At the same time, because of the Blacks' reputation, defending Harry while his innocence is not publicly proven automatically finds the defending party guilty of deeper political alignment with them. That is something no pure-blood family could possibly risk at the present time. The fallout would be drastic. Well, not counting the Lestranges perhaps, but their public support of the Blacks has already cost them practically all the political sway they had in the past. In summary, this leaves only Harry to move as he pleases.'

'But,' Daphne stammered, 'but Harry isn't stupid. He must know all this!'

Tracey smiled sadly at her. 'No, Harry isn't stupid. In fact, I believe he figured this all out in the first few minutes after the…incident. That's why he rebuffed your approach on the following morning. You being seen with him would likely already have been enough to sow the seeds of suspicion. Your grandmother would not have been pleased, probably.'

This is so infuriating. Why is it so complicated being friends with Harry?

'But this can't be right! He's just a boy! I mean, we've associated with him all our lives, right? I practically stalked him on our first day at school. Why would this be different?'

'Well,' Tracey continued with an air of forced calm, 'firstly, his abdication has made his own position perfectly clear. It took a while, as this is not exactly something the Prophet would write about, but now it's common knowledge what Harry did. Where there used to be room for interpretation, now remains only one cold fact. Secondly, everyone knows you are related to the Blacks, Daphne. No matter what your family currently does politically, other people will tolerate you, and me by extension, being friendly with him. Normally, that is. There will always be people who will openly associate with the Blacks, no matter their bad repute.

'Look at it from a Slytherin perspective; even if it causes some tongues to wag, the Blacks have much to offer, and everyone knows it. So – as long as your actions can be perceived as being purely self-serving, any contact, or friendship for that matter, can be explained away. But once the obvious risk outweighs the immediate benefit, things start getting sketchy.'

'You make it sound like you think it's right what he's doing, Tracey.' Daphne demanded hotly. When her friend didn't immediately answer and started playing with her robes, she raised her voice in fury, 'I can't believe it! You truly think it's for the best that we just part ways because some nutter tried to frame him? I don't give a shit what those stupid Ministry pricks think, I won't abandon him!'

Tracey looked stricken and held up her hands in an attempt to calm Daphne. 'Please! I'm not saying we should abandon him, Daphne! Please calm down, and don't do anything stupid, I beg you! By Salazar, maybe it's actually better you overheard, otherwise you would've gone completely ballistic once you actually had figured out what he's doing. I seriously wonder why your mother didn't speak of this to you...'

Daphne shot her friend a fiery glare. 'You told me Harry is free to act, right? So, he can fix this, can't he? Once everybody knows he's innocent, they will tolerate us being friends with him again?'

Tracey grimaced. 'Yeah, usually that would be the case. However, someone seems to be instigating the Puffs and Gryffs to thrash him all the time. I honestly don't know if it is someone acting in concert with those who tried to frame him, or somebody hoping to benefit some other way. It may even be simple malicious hate, as Harry will be hard pressed to confront either side as long as he stands between both. Thus, whoever plays grey eminence is relatively safe as long as the situation doesn't change.'

Daphne scowled. 'What else?'

Tracey started playing with her robes again, eyes averted. 'Well, I personally believe Harry will be forced to act soon, all the same. He won't let the situation deteriorate any further.'

'Huh? I thought you said it was a standstill?' Daphne pressed.

Tracey rolled her eyes. 'Amy starts next year...'

Now it was Daphne's turn to wince. 'Oh, right.'

'I have not a single doubt in my mind that Amy would take a Gryffindor hostage on her very first night at school and demand to be given information about Harry's attackers.'

Daphne couldn't help agreeing. She groaned.

'She may even get away with it, Daphne. Amy is anything but stupid. The problem lies solely in any repercussions should it not work. Still, I believe neither Arcturus nor Harry will take that risk; it's simply not the way they dance to the tune.'

'Dance!' Daphne snorted. 'Let's not talk about danc…Hey, wait a moment! You said it was political suicide to align with the Blacks right now, but isn't that exactly what that woman is doing? How come she gets away with it when I can't?'

Tracey's face morphed into a truly ugly look of contempt. 'That would be because she is one opportunistic bitch. Since she has no known family ties in Britain, political fallout is all but irrelevant to her as long as it doesn't compromise her position at school. Yet that will never happen, thanks to Arcturus' and Lucius' influence over the Hogwarts board of governors. So, as I said, all in all she is completely safe.'

Tracey paused, seemingly deep in thought. 'Not only that. Now that I think about it, she can obviously sell her affiliation to the Blacks at a high price, at this present moment anyway. There are precious few people who can be so open with their support of Harry's family for now, leaving her in a very advantageous bargaining position.'

'I loathe that woman, Tracey,' bellowed Daphne. Wow, that's some surprisingly heartfelt hatred, Daphne. Ever the philanthropist.

Tracey smiled at her honest proclamation. 'No objections here.'

Tapping on the sheet of glass, Daphne brooded over what she had been told for a while. 'Why were there so many people at the ball?'

'What do you mean?' Tracey asked, apparently perplexed by the sudden change of topic.

'You just stated that no pure-blood family wants to be publicly linked with the Blacks right now. Why is practically half of Britain here tonight, then? I think I even saw the family of the Minister, and they don't get along particularly well with Arcturus, do they?'

'It's not about being chummy, Daphne; it's all about business. As you said, practically all the important families have representatives here tonight. You'd be surprised how many deals and contracts will have been agreed upon by now. That's mostly why even the families close to the Ministry have accepted the invitation. They've tried to establish a ball at the Ministry these past few years, but it didn't work out, apparently. You know best how traditional some families can be, and this is simply the most renowned Yule Ball there is in Britain.'

Grumpily nodding in understanding, Daphne continued with the tapping of her fingernails. Realising that the smaller witch didn't have anything more to add, Daphne suddenly scowled.

'So?' she demanded sternly.

'So…what?' Tracey asked in honest puzzlement.

'So what are we going to do about this mess? Even if you want to duck out, Tracey, I swear by the names of my forebears, I will do anything to stop those jerks from bothering Harry. And you better help me, because otherwise I may just pull an Amy if I don't get any better ideas.'

Tracey let her head fall back in obvious exasperation. 'I will help you, but promise me you won't do anything at all, until I have a plan of some sort. Something is bugging me about this whole business. Maybe we need Draco's help with this.'

'What? There is honestly more? How can this be so complicated? It's just some school stuff, Merlin!' Daphne hit her chair in frustration.

'Yes, Daphne.' Tracey smiled patiently. 'But it's some school stuff about a feud against the pure-blood family that's held the most political influence in Britain for the last thousand years. Even if the last century has been difficult for the Blacks, I wouldn't underestimate how many assets they really have…'

She paused for a while and looked toward the window. 'What's really bothering me is that Arcturus must have cleared Harry's name already, at least legally. Otherwise, there would have been a hearing or, well, anything. But it seems that that was actually not enough to clear the air this time. It will die down eventually, but that may take months, and, even then, it is likely that some form of blemish will remain on Harry's reputation. That's the way it is with slander and gossip. Hence, to truly break the stalemate, we need to clear any doubt that Harry is innocent. The most practical way to go about this would be to have the actual perpetrator confess to his crimes. That, in the meantime, would leave Harry free to deal with those in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Let me think about this for a few days, Daphne.'

Daphne nodded, suppressing a yawn. 'Well, that's fine, I guess. But Tracey?' When her friend had locked eyes with her, she continued menacingly, 'Do not ever do that again! Just tell me next time, gosh darn it!'

Daphne had known her friends for ages. Nearly ten years to be exact. But she could not remember seeing her so embarrassed, ever. Watching Tracey practically melt in her seat was truly pitiful.

Settling for a small smile, Daphne asked teasingly, 'Does it ever get boring at school? You know, pretending to be the stupid little girl?'

Tracey effortlessly produced a small simper. 'I've got no idea what you're talking about, Daphy!'

~BLHD~

'Don't you think this is far enough? There is such a thing as class and decorum, you know, my dear. And to think you've done so well this eve until now – a pity!'

Aenor whirled around, wand pointing in the direction of the unfamiliar female voice. There in the corridor stood a person, arms crossed and casually leaning against the wall, hidden in the shadows. She couldn't make out any features; some trick of light completely veiled the other person, though she estimated the voice at about forty years of age.

'I'd advise you to put that thing away, my dear. You don't want to know what happens to intruders who make use of their wands in here...'

Aenor hesitantly lowered her wand, speculations about her unbidden companion wildly cavorting through her mind. Eventually, she gave in to the curiosity. 'Who are you?'

'Oh, I'm so sorry. We haven't been introduced tonight. Sadly, I'm afraid that is quite out of the question right now. Such a shame, you seem like an interesting young woman.'

'Have we met?' Aenor asked cautiously.

'Oh, not as such, no. But I've been treated to an entertaining evening, thanks to you. Instigating little girls, eavesdropping at doors, exploring the mansion in the dead of the night. Why, what an adventurous young lady you've turned out to be...'

Aenor's eyes narrowed. The dungeons, though confessedly ghoulish, had not had an effect on her, but being followed for two hours without noticing was, she had to admit it, a bit spooky.

'I might be forced to have a word with Harry about some personal feedback, come to think of it,' the other person said innocently. Aenor's heartbeat quickened, but before she could say anything, her unknown interlocutor continued in what Aenor considered to be barely suppressed gloating. 'About the house, my dear. I presume that he's given you the tour? We may have to brush it up a bit if the youth of this age isn't satisfied with it any more. We aim to be in touch with modern society, after all.'

Aenor subtly glanced at the empty corners of the room before she answered in a steely voice, 'Now that I think about it, Harry failed to show me the hidden school of elocution and barely concealed threats that should be down in the cellar somewhere...'

Her counterpart let out a surprisingly girlish laugh. 'I admire your confidence, Miss Rose.'

'I don't need a wand to win a fight,' responded Aenor coolly.

'No doubt. I've heard of your gifts: you've left all of us quite intrigued. But it would be such a waste to let it come to an end here, Miss Rose.'

Aenor carefully refrained from sneering. 'You mean you want to continue this? How touching.'

'My, you are fun!' Her head rolled back in laughter. It was strange how natural her amusement sounded, even though Aenor had to assume everything else was a facade. 'Such a firebrand, no wonder Harry likes you. But, from one woman to another, let me explain some things to you so that you won't succumb to any more misunderstandings in the future.'

'Misunderstandings? Well, then please teach me, mysterious hag that clings too desperately to her youth,' Aenor returned sarcastically.

Still laughing, the other woman playfully pushed herself off the wall, and lightly danced in her direction, arms cutely folded behind her back. 'You were under the impression that your dealings were restricted to the Blacks, meaning Arcturus, and by extension Harry, I presume?'

'Well, of course,' Aenor said impatiently. The other person was a bit too close for someone she couldn't clearly define as an enemy or not.

'And this is where it all went downhill for you, poppet.' Another middle-aged female voice breathed these words directly into her left ear.

Eyes widening, Aenor froze. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw half a dozen shadows solidifying into blurred figures of witches and wizards pointing their wands at her.

'What you failed to realise, Miss Rose…' a third unknown voice, male this time, called out in a bored tone of superiority.

'… While there may only be two people who publicly bear the name of Black … ' another unseen woman, younger this time, interjected.

'… Darkness thrives only in the absence of light,' concluded her original counterpart smugly.