Everything has it's downsides.
A Radical Solution Chapter Four.
Harry tried not to stare across the great hall at Daphne Greengrass.
She certainly never looked his way.
Harry made sure not to look at her in Potions. He was fairly sure he didn't spill those rat livers on himself.
The next day in Defence, Harry was sitting further back, to avoid Umbridge and that meant that Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis were in his field of view, off to the right, when he looked forward. Not that he wanted to look at Umbridge. That shade of pink was particularly foul.
But that had Harry thinking about the shade of pink that was Daphne Greengrass's lips, and Harry just had to look over at her. Her hair was sitting flat like a drowned rat, and Harry desperately wished he could buy her some haircare product, immediately. Because he knew, deep in his heart, just how bad having a bad hair day could be. Well, he admitted in his own head, every day was bad hair day.
The news that Sirius Black had been Pardoned made front page of the Daily Prophet on Tuesday, and Dumbledore's sacking as Chief Warlock was front page on Wednesday.
On Thursday, the Daily Propeht featured Dumbledore announced his re-election campaign, with the photo featuring Sirius Black standing off to one side in very expensive Robes, waving. Harry wasn't quite sure he liked the implication that Magical Britain was quite so corrupt.
But a new Ministerial Decree that afternoon granted Umbridge the power to fire staff at Hogwarts for underperformance, so… Harry sighed, it was equal opportunity corruption anyway.
Justin Fletch-Finchley loudly exclaimed "This place is a Banana Republic" at dinner that night, and Harry knew what he meant. But evidently Umbridge didn't, which was probably just as well for Justin.
On Friday Umbridge interrupted Herbology by coming in and asking if they had Bananas.
"Yes, we have no bananas," said Professor Sprout. Umbridge scowled and left.
After she left, Tony Goldstein burst onto song, using a ridiculous accent. "Yes, we have no bananas, we have bananas todaaay!" And Professor Sprout gave him one point to Ravenclaw, for knowing a plant-related song. Harry felt it was perhaps a bad idea to encourage him.
And somehow, on Saturday, he went shopping at Hogsmeade, and afterwards ended up finding Daphne Greengrass, well he used the Marauders map obviously, and giving her the gift-wrapped bottle of Sleekeazy's that would, according to the sales-witch, fix anyone's hair problems. Hermione had admitted, under intense questioning that even her hair gave in, when dosed with it. Accordingly Harry bought two gift-wrapped bottles, one to give to Hermione later for Christmas, and one for Daphne Greengrass. And obviously, he bought some warm slippers, as winter was coming, and it was possible that … Daphne Greengrass might get cold feet, and the very idea felt intolerable. He didn't bother explaining the slipper thing to Ron or Hermione, they were starting to stare at him funny. He had a suspicion that… they might be going weird. Ron certainly looked at Hermione rather a lot these days.
Anyway, he found Daphne Greengrass looking a little windswept in a camelhair coat, in the hallway in front of the Great Hall, having just returned from Hogsmeade. She was, Harry realised, possibly the most beautiful girl alive. And she was carrying parcels. Harry wondered if he should offer to carry them for her. He could explain that he already knew where the Slytherin common room was.
Daphne Greengrass did not see him coming, but Tracey Davis, wearing a brown woolly hat, tugged on her sleeve. "Daph. He's right here!"
Harry smiled nervously, and held out the two parcels – the slippers were just wrapped in brown paper, as he felt slippers weren't a fancy gift.
"Um Greengrass," said Harry, holding out the parcels, "I um, got this for you." Harry desperately wondered what to do now. Daphne Greengrass looked at him oddly. Like she was trying to think of something.
"As a, um, apology about the you-know-what," he said, in what he felt was a stroke of genius.
Greengrass looked him up and down, and frowned "What?" she asked.
Harry stepped closer "I got you these things. Um Presents." said Harry, feeling increasingly tongue-tied.
Greengrass used her right hand to pick each present from his left and right hands, and put them in her shopping-bag. "Your hair is a disaster area," she said, and rummaged in her bag, placing into his right hand a small parcel wrapped in brown paper that was oddly similar in size to his present for her. "It's probably unsafe," she said.
Harry frowned, and looked at the parcel.
"Your hair" she said.
"Um. No it's not," said Harry.
"Oh really, what if it got in your eyes when you were flying – you could crash" she said, and raised her eyebrows. Harry felt… that was quite a weird thing for someone to say. He hardly ever crashed. Apart from the time he nearly swallowed the snitch, the time his arm got broken, or the time the Dementors made him pass out, and his trusty Nimbus 2000 got broken. He had, he thought, a pretty spotless safety record. But he put the parcel in the pocket of his corduroy coat anyway.
"Thanks," he said, not knowing what to do now. It had seemed so simple when he was in Hogsmeade. Now he could see her, she had a faint redness on her cheeks – what if it was windburn and she needed lotion, or… maybe her shoes were pinching – Harry's certainly were. And why was Tracey Davis going red in the face. It was all very confusing. Finally, embarrassment won out over whatever strange feeling he was having, and he ran off, wondering if she had enough toothpaste.
Harry got all the way to the Gryffindor common room before he stopped, and undid his coat, feeling quite warm. And there was a parcel, from Daphne Greengrass. Harry went up to his dorm room, and into his bed, closed the curtains, undid the string, and unwrapped the brown paper. It was a boxed bottle of Sleekeazey's hair tonic. Which was strange, as that was what he'd given her.
Before dinner, Hermione and Ron took Harry to an abandoned classroom, and sat down with him on the abandoned desks. Nobody ever used the rickety old chairs.
"Harry?" said Hermione, "I'm… we're concerned about you."
Harry looked at Ron, who, unless he was mistaken, was looking mistily at Hermione. He rolled his eyes.
"What is it now?" asked Harry. He had important thinking about Daphne Greengrass's welfare to do yet. Probably he should follow her under the invisibility cloak, and listen to her talk… she had a pretty voice after all, and he could learn if there was anything she needed. Apart from kissing, which he felt, rather than thought, she desperately needed. He licked his lips.
"Ever since the um, scar thing," said Hermione. 'The appearance of my one true loves' name on my wrist,' thought Harry.
Harry nodded.
"You've been acting weird," said Hermione. Which was totally ludicrous. The only strange thing was the dreams.
"You didn't even know who Greengrass was before that," said Ron. Which was only technically true. She'd been 'pretty blonde girl I'd ask out if I had some confidence around girls,' thought Harry. I might have thought her name was Diana, but that is neither here nor there. It's Daphne, which is quite possibly the most beautiful name a girl can have. I knew it started with D.
"Guys, relax" said Harry "Professor Dumbledore and Snape worked out something, and they don't think it's a Voldemort plot, and my working theory is that it's time-travel, and future us sent the message," said Harry. "Because it's her handwriting, you see."
"Um?" asked Ron "On your back too?"
"Er," said Harry "I dunno, I can't see."
And that was obviously a stupid thing to say, as Ron and Hermione had pulled up Harry's shirt quite painfully and started comparing notes.
"No, the writing on the back is all blurry" said Ron. "Like they smudged it." he added.
"The captials are not loopy. Her name has loopy capital letters," said Hermione, nearly breaking Harry's wrist as she held his arm at a convenient angle for her, again. "I think it's someone else."
"Well they didn't sign it," said Ron, "But I see your point."
Harry hoped they'd let him pull his shirt down and have some dignity some time soon.
Hermione copied everything, and then, and only then, Harry got to pull his shirt down. He felt a bit cold, and that had him wondering if Daphne Greengrass needed a hot water bottle. And Harry reassured himself, that was a perfectly normal thought to have. She should, he nodded to himself be okay for a little while, he'd given her the slippers, after all, and winter hadn't really set in yet.
"Harry?" said Hermione sharply. Harry looked over, and Hermione had the parchment on a school desk and was bent over it with Ron.
"Mmm?" said Harry.
"You were staring at a wall."
"I was thinking," said Harry. Hermione looked at him oddly.
"What I said while you weren't listening, was that the stuff on your back is a list. And it must be Voldemort-related, 'diary was one' is the clue."
Harry walked over and read the list for the first time. It was quite a terse list. And there were instructions on how to find the room of lost things, and something about rituals.
Ron was scribbling on another parchment, holding a Hermione-written line of parchment gobbledigook.
"What's that Ron?" asked Harry.
"This is on your wrist," said Ron.
"Snape knows what it says," said Harry.
"He what?"
"Snape broke the code, it's written on both our wrists," said Harry.
"You and your one true love," said Ron, snorting. Harry felt suddenly irate with Ron. How Dare he say anything negative about Daphne and he – she was the most amazingly perfect girl to ever live, and even ….
But on Sunday, Professor Dumbledore sent Harry a note by school owl to come see him at one in the afternoon, and on the bottom of the page, as if an afterthought – 'I am quite partial to Mars bars.'
Harry explained to Hermione and Ron at lunch that he had yet another weird meeting at one, and Ron looked at him aghast. "But… it's Sunday Lunch!"
Harry nodded; it was indeed the Sunday roast lunch.
"You know rushing her meals gives Hermione indigestion," said Ron. Harry was stuck by something strange – Ron cared about Hermione's comfort – and paid so much attention to her that he knew she was the very devil for eating too quickly and rushing off to the library. And now both of them were eating fast, so they could go discuss the meeting before he had it. Harry sighed, and tried to eat a little faster. Not that he had issues about food at all – he was perfectly normal, well apart from the being a wizard thing. And the Voldemort out to kill him thing, and now, knowing his one true love's name. Of all of these, the last was possibly the scariest. What was a bloke supposed to do except stare at said avatar of all things good and witchly, and wish, desperately that he knew what to say. Which he never did.
The three friends got through lunch in a near-record twenty-three minutes (missing dessert) and rushed off to the third floor, and quickly found a disused classroom to talk in.
"What do you think it's about?" asked Hermione. "The meeting?"
"I've no idea," said Harry, "though, just guessing… something to do with horsepucks, and Voldemort."
"The strange thing is that I've checked every dictionary and that word does not appear" said Hermione.
"We haven't checked the Restricted Section" said Ron. "Which would involve… " Ron paused, "Breaking rules, and sneaking into said Restricted Section. Can we borrow the cloak to do it while you're talking to Dumbledore?"
"Professor Dumbledore," corrected Hermione, but she was also standing, not quite bouncing on her toes.
"Dangerous, rule-breaking looking-things-up in the restricted section?" asked Harry, "of course. Make sure neither of you is seen," he added, and managed to keep a straight face at the thought of Ron and Hermione forced to hide under the one invisibility cloak. Ron would, at least be close to her. He suppressed a shudder.
Hermione got out a muggle schoolbook, and opened it. It had a copy of the writing on Harry's back spell-o-taped as a fold-out flap in the front, and index-markers spell-o-taped through the book.
"So far, what I can determine," she said, "Is that the key seems to be ritual-based magic. Which according to Hogwarts, A History, hasn't been taught for over a century."
"So, is it really powerful, and suppressed by the Ministry?" asked Harry.
"It's um… my initial research, back in the summer after first year, seemed to indicate it was mostly that the classes had a lot of injuries, permanent injuries, and the advanced classes had a lot of deaths. It was a safety thing ,as much as anything else." said Hermione "Like the Tri-Wizard tournament, in that regard."
"Oh bloody brilliant," said Harry. And also, Hermione had looked this up years ago?
"I can't say more about it because I couldn't find a book about ritual magic anywhere," said Hermione, "But the list seems to indicate the room of requirement can provide some."
Hermione helpfully turned to the appropriate indexed page where she listed a list of questions and ideas about the 'Room of Requirement.' There seemed to Harry to me more questions than answers on the page.
"Shouldn't we just use this Room of Requirement to find out what Horsepucks are?" asked Ron "It's just it'd be quicker and not involve getting detention for six months if we get caught."
"Or worse, expelled" said Harry, and Ron rolled his eyes.
Unfortunately, Hermione elbowed him sharply in the ribs for his little jest.
"OW!" Harry complained.
"The writing of that word is very blurry, I underlined the blurry words with a wavy line. It's quite possible there's a spelling error," said Hermione. "At least a dictionary will allow a bit of a broader search."
"Well, gotta dash," said Harry, "I'll keep the map, so I can find you two after, okay." And with that Harry headed to the Headmasters office for a mysterious meeting.
He had a nagging suspicion it might involve the water sports programme.
When Harry opened the door to the Headmasters inner office, he was pleasantly surprised to be wrong – Sirius Black was waiting in there, not some new Water-Hockey coach. Or whatever wizards did. And sittign at his desk, Professor Dumbledore, his half-moong glasses glinting in the lamplight.
"Harry!" said Sirius, and he frowned "We've got a … plan."
"Oh" said Harry.
"We'll explain everything… in due course," said Professor Dumbledore.