September 6th. Friday.
Delores fucking Umbridge could fall into a Basilisk pit, and Harry would ask the monstrous snake to make her death a slow and painful one. That was how much Harry despised the pink-clad toad of a woman! Could she even be considered a woman? She certainly wasn't full of sugar and spice, and she certainly wasn't nice.
More like vomit and hogwash and everything terrible.
Harry couldn't even enjoy his dinner in peace! He could feel the toad's eyes watching him as he ate. It was seriously creepy! Was she unhinged? What kind of person watches a kid as they eat? Not even Harry's favourite treacle tart could improve his mood. The mere stench of the toad made the food in his mouth taste foul.
Was detention not enough? Was ruining Harry's favourite class not enough? Was ruining everyone's chance at getting a good OWL grade not enough? Was denying the existence of a madman hellbent on the destruction of the wizarding world not enough? No, instead, she had to take dinner from him, too!
Dinner ended with nothing enjoyed for the last Potter.
Harry slunk down the bustling halls with a scowl etched on his features. Ron and Hermione followed closely but remained silent to avoid drawing his ire. It didn't help students bumped into Harry roughly, not even an apology thrown at him. He just wanted to go to bed, for god sake! But no! Everyone looked at him wearily, like he was Voldemort himself.
So he was a leper once more. Fantastic. Second year was undoubtedly a favourite of his (Not!)
Tonight couldn't get any worse.
Then he felt a sudden jolt as he was bumped into by Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin. "Oh, sorry about that," Davis quickly apologized, her eyes glancing up at him. Greengrass merely scowled and huffed.
"No worries," Harry replied, ready to continue walking and to get away from the snakes, but Davis swiftly extended her hand before he could, offering him a folded piece of paper.
"Hey, you dropped this."
Harry hesitated, slightly taken aback. "I don't think that's mine," he responded, eyeing the note warily. What was she playing at?
Davis insisted unyieldingly, her expression unwavering. "I definitely saw it fall out of your pocket. It's yours," she claimed, holding the note out to him with determination.
With narrowed eyes, Harry reluctantly accepted the note, wondering why she was so insistent about it. Without another word uttered, the two Slytherins strolled away as if the strange interaction had never happened.
"What was that about?" Hermione wondered out loud, and Ron merely gruffed, muttering about slimy snakes. Harry, meanwhile, turned the note over in his hands. It didn't seem like a trick or anything—certainly nothing dark. By now, he had come into contact with enough dark objects at Sirius' place to know the feeling of dark magic.
Tucking the note into his robes, he decided to read it at a later time. His bed was his number one priority right now.
Potter
Meet me tomorrow night in the library shortly after supper.
TD
It was undoubtedly an ominous note, Harry thought with a snort. Was every Slytherin known for having a flair for the dramatic? Maybe it was just a Malfoy and Snape thing? Then again, Harry did wanna know how to do that thing with his cloak that Snape did. It reminded him of Darth Vader.
The library was quiet, more so than usual. Madam Pince ran a tight ship after all. Drumming his fingers on the table, Harry glanced at his watch. He'd been here for fifteen minutes so far, and no one had shown up yet. Ron's warning that it was a trap to get him there alone rang through his head.
Was that what this was? A trick to get him here alone and take him straight to Voldemort? Harry would admit he was wary. Interacting with Slytherins has never gone well for him. Still, he had not had any issues with Davis or Greengrass before. 'Then again, when have you ever interacted with them before?' he thought with a huff.
Rechecking his watch, he shook his head and made himself stand up. He was here for twenty minutes now. If no one bothered to show up, oh well. This was probably some prank or something. "Better a prank than a trip to Voldemort's," he uttered as he pulled his chair out and stood. He was just about to push his chair back in and leave when the gentle sound of footfalls echoed around the bookshelves. Harry paused his movement with a held breath.
This was it, wasn't it? Harry knew he could draw his wand quickly, but how many were coming? Dammit, he should have brought Ron and Hermione. That's what he gets for using Gryffindor bravery at a time like this. Standing silently, his posture tight like a coil ready to snap, Harry waited.
Turning the corner was Tracey Davis and her alone. She paused when she noticed Harry standing tensely. The two eyed each other with searching gazes. Tracey was the first to break the silence, offering a quiet, "Evening, Potter."
"Evening, Davis," Harry returned as he uncoiled ever so slightly, "Shall we sit or stand?"
Stepping forward cautiously, Davis quipped, "I have been on my feet all day, I'm sitting." Pulling out her chair and sitting with a huff, Davis watched Harry copy her as he sat more gently. The snake and lion were silent as they studied each other.
Harry laid his hands out on the table in a show of good faith, something Davis noticed and copied. Not that either of them knew the other had their wand up their sleeve. Harry looked the girl up and down slowly, almost as if checking her for deceit. Davis did the same to him, but her eyes lingered in certain spots as if checking if he was real.
It was a tense affair.
"I'm here. Now what?" Harry asked as he couldn't take the silent scrutiny any longer. Davis's eyes snapped to him, and Harry held her gaze. Green to dark brown. The colour of her eyes was familiar to Harry. It almost looked like one of those cakes Aunt Petunia would make for Uncle Vernon's parties.
"I am surprised you came."
Harry blinked, "Why wouldn't I?"
Davis shrugged, "Why would any Gryffindor chance a meeting with a Slytherin all alone?"
"Who said I was alone?"
"Weasley isn't here; otherwise, I would have noticed."
"What about Hermione?"
"Granger could be here, but I doubt it."
Harry smirked ever so slightly, "Why's that?"
Davis's eyes crinkled in amusement, "Call it a woman's intuition."
"Well, I suppose I can't argue with that. Where is Greengrass?" Harry asked as his eyes shifted to the bookcases. "Hiding somewhere in case you call for help?"
Davis shook her head, "She wanted to, but I came here alone. Why else would I be so late." Harry shrugged as he eyed her carefully.
"So, what was the reason for your note?" Harry asked, finally deciding to get to the crux of the matter. Davis took a breath and let it out slowly. Her hands clenched to fists, and Harry watched silently.
"I'll be blunt. I need help with Defence. Can you tutor me?" It looked like the girl struggled to admit it out loud, but Harry wasn't focusing on that.
"Why?"
Davis's left eye twitched, "Does it matter why?"
"A little, yes," Harry quipped. "We have hardly spoken two words to each other before now. For all I know, this is some elaborate prank or scheme to try handing me over to Voldemort!" The girl across from him shuddered at mentioning his name, and he snapped, "What do you have to be afraid of?!"
Davis tensed, her eyes narrowing, "What is that supposed to mean?" Harry scoffed and waved a hand in dismissal.
"You're a Slytherin. I think that is all I need to know. You all fall under Voldemort like a pack of lost dogs. It's quite sad, don't you think?" Harry asked with an eye roll. "Following the next "top tog" so as to keep you all safe and together. News flash, Voldemort doesn't care about purebloods. He is a filthy half-blood, just like me. It's sad, Davis. So again, I ask you, what do you have to fear?"
"What do you know of me, huh?!" The girl seethed as she slapped her hands on the table. She stood, leaning across the table to directly glare into his eyes. "You know nothing! Nothing about me. Nothing about my life, and nothing about the fear I feel! So until you miraculously live a day in my shoes, shut your mouth about things you know nothing about!"
No one had a chance to say anything more. Madam Pince descended on them like vultures to dead meat. It didn't matter in the end. Neither of the two wished to explain their argument. They left with glares shared between each other and without a word spoken.
'I knew this was a mistake,' Harry thought as he wanted oh so badly to shout and scream. The anger coursing through him was boiling, and he wanted it out. Turning to the girl walking down the hall to the dungeons, he asked, "Davis, what do you have to fear?" Harry wasn't sure why he asked. Out of anger? Maybe some weird, sick sense of curiosity? Probably both, in all honesty.
The girl stopped, but without turning to face him, she said, "Not everyone in Slytherin is a pureblood." Then she was gone. Leaving the bespeckled boy alone in the hall.
Harry didn't sleep last night. His stomach churned in discomfort, and sleep eluded him no matter what he did. Davis's words kept repeating over and over in his head. 'Not everyone in Slytherin is a pureblood.' It made sense, Harry guessed. What were the chances only purebloods went there? Heck, Harry himself almost winded up there!
Guilt. That was what Harry was feeling.
He assumed the girl was just plain evil because of the house she was in. If her anger last night was any indication of the real truth, it seemed all of his assumptions were incorrect. It was Hypocritical of him. Harry hated when people made assumptions about him. So, of course, he let himself make assumptions about others with no basis for his accusations.
Getting out of bed early (it's not like he could sleep even if he wanted to), Harry scanned the Marauder's map for the brunette Slytherin. Seeing the name Tracey Davis moving about the Slytherin girl's dorms, Harry figured she'd be making her way to the great hall for an early breakfast.
Making his way to the great hall, Harry scanned the map to see which direction Davis would come from. He wanted to cut her off before breakfast so he could apologize privately. It wasn't long before he was waiting at the end of a hall for the girl to walk past.
"Morning, Davis," Harry greeted, causing the girl to jump with a scream. Harry winced at the pitch. Davis held a hand to her chest as she took some deep breaths.
"Don't you ever do that to me again! Got it, Potter?!" She hissed as she calmed herself down. Harry, for his part, felt a little bad. Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, he muttered a quiet apology. Once the girl was settled and breathing back to normal, she glared at the boy as she crossed her arms. "What do you want, Potter? Besides giving me a bloody heart attack."
Harry gulped at the look she gave him before looking down at his feet, "I wanted to apologize for last night." Scuffing his shoes along the ground, he explained, "I treated you terribly. You were right to be mad at me. I don't know you or your life, and for that, I am sorry. I-I let my anger get the best of me."
It was silent between the two, and Harry couldn't bear to look up at the girl. After a moment, he heard the girl sigh quietly, "I forgive you. Just don't do it again."
"I promise I won't," Harry vowed. The Slytherin rolled her eyes but nodded anyway. Silence fell between them again, and Harry felt awkward. The girl must have felt that way, too, for she was looking anywhere but at him. Running a hand through his hair, he summoned that famous Gryffindor bravery and asked, "Do you still want help in defence?"
Davis blinked at the boy, and Harry felt oddly naked. Davis was silent as she seemingly thought it over. After a moment of deliberation, she seemed to make up her mind. The girl took a step toward him, and he instinctively took a step back. She frowned and took another forward; again, he took one back. "Potter, stay still," she ordered as she stepped toward him again.
"Why?!" he cried as he backed into the wall behind him. Davis rolled her eyes but smirked.
"So I can offer my hand to you in agreement. Duh." The Slytherin held her hand out to him. Harry looked at her hand before nervously grasping it within his own. "I will see you tomorrow night in the classroom on the third-floor corridor." Then she was gone, walking away to breakfast with her head held high and a satisfied smile adorning her face.
Harry wasn't sure why, but he felt like he made a deal with the devil herself.
