Harry's feet tapped against the floor as he walked through the halls of the ancient castle. His hand burned against his side, the bloody carvings he had been forced to mar himself with stinging against the winter air.

He clutched his hand to his chest, letting it lay just beneath his school robes. His chest bubbled furiously. It was warm and painful, his anger just wanting to burst free. He hated Umbridge. In degrees of hate, he hated her almost as much as he hated Voldemort.

Almost.

Harry glared forward, hand reaching up to adjust his glasses.

Why would Professor Dumbledore allow that—that woman, if he could even call her that with her being such a toadish bint, into Hogwarts? Not like Harry could ask the man. He'd been chased out of the school by Umbridge.

As if Professor Dumbledore would tell him, anyways. The headmaster refused to tell him much of anything these days. It was bloody ridiculous! Professor Dumbledore wouldn't meet him in the eyes, he would skirt off his words, he'd dodge his questions! He felt, well…he felt ignored.

Voldemort was out there planning on taking over the world and killing all the muggleborns. Harry was stuck playing student while the greatest enemy to Voldemort wouldn't even acknowledge his existence.

It's dreadful. It really is. For all he knows, Voldemort could have taken over the outside world and Dumbledore still wouldn't tell him anything! And now with Umbridge taking over the school in her coup, he felt even more isolated.

Sometimes he just wished—

—Harry stumbled slightly as he walked into someone. He blinked, taking a step back and drank in the visage of his assailant. It was a honey blonde girl—more like a woman—with barely tanned skin and cutting blue eyes, almost like miniscule aquamarines were shoved into her skull. She didn't give off the feel of a model or anything like that, though. There was more of a down-to-earth appearance to her.

"Sorry." Harry bumbled out awkwardly, brushing off his robes. "I didn't see you there."

The girl huffed in annoyance. "It must be those glasses of yours. Can you even see with those things? I'd be blind as a bat if I were you."

"I'm afraid I can see quite well through these things, as you call them. Well enough to kick Slytherin's butt in quidditch." Harry said with a small grin, pointedly looking at her green robes. His expression was tainted a bit when he remembered the fact that he was banned from quidditch.

"From what I recall, we are winning in quidditch this year." The girl hummed out, a small smirk to her lips. "Then again, I've never been to a match myself. My housemates could be lying."

"Blasphemy!" Harry nearly choked out with a laugh. "Never going to a quidditch match? And you call yourself a witch…"

Whoever this pretty girl was, she was strangely fun. She was rather dry, though. In a good way.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "Aren't witches meant to be blasphemers?" She rhetorically asked, lips upturned. "I'm just doing as a witch is meant to."

"My uncle would probably agree with you. He hates all things magic with a passion." Harry tilted his head, pretending like he was deep in thought. "Hm…he also hates a bit of, well, everything."

"Sounds like a dreadful man." The witch said. "Can't imagine you, Mr. Merlin incarnate, being related to someone like that." Then she touched her lip. "Well, not with what the Prophet is saying. Apparently, you recently started developing a plan to overthrow the Pureblood status quo and instil a House Elf aristocracy. So says the Prophet."

Harry decided to completely ignore the Merlin incarnate part.

He snorted, laughing heavily. "Are you sure you weren't reading the Quibbler? That sounds like some of the bogus they'd post. Then again, the Prophet has been rather rubbish these days."

She raised an eyebrow. "Just lately?"

"True, true." He nodded deeply. Then, he stretched out his hand. "I'm Harry, by the way."

"I couldn't have possibly figured that out, Harry." She dryly spoke, grasping my hand. "Well, just Harry, I am Daphne."

"Lovely to meet you, just Daphne." He smirked at her, shaking her hand. "You're rather nice for a snake."

"I'm not the parselmouth here—I'll take it at your word that I'm the nicest snake you've met." She flippantly responded, brushing her hair back. "Sssssss…"

Harry gasped, holding his hand to his chest. "You can't just say that! Cursing at me in parseltongue, how rude!" He glared playfully. "Ssssssss."

"Ssssss!" She loudly hissed back in total gibberish.

Harry decided to stick out his tongue. "Sssssss!"

They mutually glared at each other, green eyes meeting blue. They burst out into loud giggles after a moment.

It took him a moment to calm down, the parade of giggles continuously stopping and restarting when they looked at each other. Harry took deep breaths, stopping the flurry of laughs. "Well, Daphne, what has you out so late? It's almost curfew."

"Can a witch go on a walk?" She questioned, shrugging her shoulders. "And I don't even need to ask why you are out. Probably something Gryffindorish…are you going to find a dragon to slay? No, no…" She shook her head, mouth curved up. "You are off to save a maiden, that must be it! Only a Gryffindor would do something so foolhardy."

"Hmm…you're utterly brilliant! You got it in one—I'm off to slay a dragon and get the maiden out of the high castle, of course." Harry nodded solemnly, like he was telling some divine truth. "And, clearly, you must be doing something Slytherinish. Your walk was a lie, then. Only a Snake would do something so…dastardly."

Harry even faked a small sniffle, shaking his head sadly. If saving the magical world didn't work out, he could always try out as an actor.

"Oh my!" Daphne put a hand on her chest, dramatically gasping. "How did you know my…evil scheme? My evil, vile ways?"

"Ha ha!" Harry laughed in faux-cockiness. "It was obvious to someone such as me. Only a true Gryffindor can see through a Snake's evil traps."

Daphne snorted.

Harry snorted.

They devolved into mad giggles again, cheeks flushing red from lack of oxygen as they laughed and laughed.

"We probably look like complete morons, don't we?" Harry asked her, still letting out small giggles.

Daphne snorted again. "Probably."

"Probably." Harry nodded sagely. If there was one thing Dumbledore had taught him, it was how to look wise. The headmaster had mastered that look.

Harry shook his head, grinning like a loon. "Well, just Daphne, how about we meet up som—"

"—diffindo!" A voice from…he didn't know…shouted out.

Harry's eyes widened as he lunged forward, pushing Daphne back as he caught a cut to the arm. He immediately put his head on a swivel, raising his wand as his cutup arm and hand ached.

He squinted his eyes, trying to catch a glance at who was attacking them. He couldn't make out anyone, the hallway was completely empty besides him and Daphne.

They must be using an invisibility cloak or some other kind of spell to hide them.

Harry flicked his wand up as another spell came, this one a shiny blue. "Protego!" He jabbed his wand, the blue light slamming into the shield and fizzling out. A gong-like noise rang in the hallway.

"What is happen—"

"—get your wand out and defend yourself!" Harry ordered, trying to see their assailant. He couldn't spot them.

"Aguamenti!" Harry casted, a wall of water flying forward and towards where they were being attacked from.

The wall of water was flung back. "Glacius!" The masculine, yet obscured, voice yelled, spear-like icicles launching at Daphne and he.

"Depulso." Daphne cast, the icicles banishing away from them and slamming into the wall ahead of them. They didn't catch their invisible foe on it.

Suddenly, the hallway grew hot. Painfully hot, like the very depths of hell had decided the halls of Hogwarts were a good place to meander in.

"What kind of spell is that?!" Harry yelled, raising his wand and casting all of the freezing and water creating spells he knew. The water and ice immediately steamed, turning to gas as soon as he made them.

His blood ran cold, far colder than the burning hall they were in.

Daphne grasped onto his arm tightly, a shake to her sweaty palms. "What—what is happening?! I—is someone trying to kill us? Why are we being attacked? What is going on!?"

Harry ignored her, continuing to try and cast any spell he could to lower the temperature of the hall. The wisps of tiny flames crawling up the hall dashed any of his hopes to get rid of the heat.

"Run!" Harry shouted, grasping Daphne by the wrist, pulling her through the halls. The flames snaked and crept through the stretch of castle behind them, melting the stone into a molten liquid.

Daphne didn't need to be told twice, immediately chasing after him. "Fiendfyre." She whispered to herself in horror. "That's fiendfyre!"

"What?" Harry asked, legs moving as fast as they could under him.

"It doesn't extinguish. It can't be put out! It's said it comes from Hell!" Daphne panickedly shouted, pumping her legs as hard as she could.

Harry paled, facing going white. "Not at all? Nothing can put it out?!"

"No!" Daphne hissed, focused on moving. "It stops when it runs out of fuel. It thinks we are fuel!"

Harry scrunched his eyes, both in thought and from how bright the light behind him was shining. The fire doesn't go out. That's just…absolutely lovely. Of course it doesn't.

He needed to put the fire out, though. Or he'd die. He didn't much want to get burned alive, afterall.

Maybe it was like a grease fire. Aunt Petunia had taught him to put one out once. Not out of the kindness of her heart, but because Harry had better make sure her kitchen doesn't even have a speck of soot on it! Better for him to get burned putting it out! Is what she said.

You put a grease fire out by smothering it. You need to stop it from…"We need to stop it from getting oxygen!" Harry yelled, panting heavily.

"Oxy—what?!"

She must be a pureblood. "Oxygen! Like air! Fire needs air to spread! If we remove the air, it can't burn us."

Daphne stopped, pulling him with her and making them both get off-balance. He managed to steady himself, staring at the quick approaching flame in horror. "What are you doing!?"

"Ebubblio!" Daphne yelled out, a massive bubble of air being created in the middle of the hall.

She knew the bubble head charm? He didn't know that one. He was mildly impressed.

Harry flicked his wand forward, picking up on what she was doing. "Fumo!" He cast, wand producing a thick smog of smoke that was forced into the bubble of air. A massive, black barrier of dirty air was all that remained between them and their deaths.

Harry had never been a religious man, but he now wished he'd gone to mass with the Dursleys. They'd probably consider him dying in hell-flames to be a fitting fate.

Vernon would likely call it deserved for his freakish nature. A freaky magical dying to flames.

The flames of hell rapidly approached, sweat dripping down his neck as the intense heat neared them.

They waited with bated breaths as the fire struck the bubble of smog. Harry was almost prepared for the flames to just go through it, going on to engulf the pair in fiery death.

Luck, however, decided today was a lovely time to be on Harry Potter's side. It was a first, and Merlin was he glad it happened.

Seconds passed as the fire kept slamming into the bubble of smoke, eventually all of the fire barraging the deoxygenated air and fizzling out.

"Yes!" Daphne jumped up excitedly, looking like she could dance. She met his eyes, her diamond-like pupils incredibly wide. "We live! We're alive!"

Her joy was infectious. Harry could almost jump for joy himself. "Was that enough of a Gryffindorish adventure for the evening?" He wisely cracked at her, giving a weak grin.

He'd like to think that Sirius would be incredibly proud of him this evening. So would his dad.

The blonde girl wacked his arm, a tired grin on her face. "You're utterly Gryffindorish might be too much for me."

"Potter!" A voice hissed out from where the flames had once been. "You'll be expelled for this, you hear that? Dumbledore is no longer here to bail you out of your incessant misdeeds. Just like your father, Potter."

Harry blinked, eyes widening in shock. "But Snape—!"

"Professor, Potter. Remember that."

Harry couldn't help himself. He couldn't stop his wise tongue. "I don't recall becoming a Professor, Snape."

The greasy man went red with rage. "You—!"

Daphne's snicker cut the ex-Deatheater off. The man managed to become even more livid.

"And you, Greengrass…I thought you were better than this. Falling for Potter's ways?" Snape bit out furiously. "You both will be punished for this. But you, Potter—I will see you expelled for this!"

"I didn't do it!" Harry yelled out at the same time Daphne said, "He didn't do it!"

Snape just glared, marching up to the both of them and grasping them by the arms. "Tell that to…" He sneered. "...Head Inquisitor Umbridge."

He then pulled them forward, dragging them through the halls and not letting them get a word through.

Soon, the both of them sat in Umbridge's overly pink office. He'd been in here one too many times, yet he still managed to get nauseated from it.

"Hem hem!" Umbridge coughed in her annoying way. "Of course it is you, Mr. Potter. I thought I saw you earlier this evening. Did your punishment not…stick?"

Daphne gave me a glance.

"But of course it didn't. I always knew you were a trouble maker." Umbridge shook her head sadly. "Too engulfed in your fame and ego. Of course, when Minister Fudge corrected that, your true self was exposed to the real world!"

Umbridge sighed, shaking her head again. "Now, what to do with you? You used dark magic in the halls of these schools, a crime worthy of even Azkaban!" She clicked her tongue, tsking. "But! Never let it be said I am not kind. I will only expel you."

"What!"

"What!"

Shouted both he and Daphne, eyes wide. Harry went to speak, but he was immediately cut off by Umbridge. "Hem! Hem! Thank you."

She smiled brightly, a crooked thing it was. "Now, do not think I've forgotten about you Miss Greengrass. What is a good, pureblood girl like you doing with a…ruffian like him here?" Umbridge exhaled mournfully. "Tsk. I think I understand. He confounded you, didn't he?"

Daphne just stared at Umbridge in blatant shock. "He did no such thing!"

"Hem!" Umbridge interrupted, shaking her head. Daphne was getting increasingly furious. "I see, you're still influenced by his…magics. I think maybe only Saint Mungos could hel—"

Daphne glared, wand flashing up. "Stupefy!"

Umbridge slumped, falling to the ground. The pink lump of lard tumbled like Humpty Dumpty. Shame she didn't crack her head.

"What'd you do that for!" Harry blurted out, looking at Umbridge's unconscious body in shock. "You—you'll get expelled!"

"And you weren't going to be expelled?" Daphne sarcastically replied, the roll of her eyes so hard you'd think they'd produce a sound.

Harry looked at her like she was insane. "But you weren't going to be! You don't really even know me, why would you—"

The blonde crossed her arms, glaring defiantly. "You saved my life. I owe you, do you understand me? Now, give me a moment before we leave."

Daphne started flicking her wand, muttering different things and cursing after random mutters.

"What're you—? Where are we even—?" He just stared at her in intense confusion. "You're barmy, that's what you are! Completely barmy."

A small vial of something flew at Daphne. And then two more vials. She cheered in triumph. At Harry's confused look, she elaborated for him. "Umbridge was bound to have illegal things in here. This," she held out a vial, "is Veritaserum. It makes you tell the truth. The others are a potion that makes you forget things and a torture potion. I expected more things, if I am to be honest."

"Can't we just use the potion to prove we are innocent?" Harry wondered allowed. And why didn't they use Veritaserum on the Death Eaters? Or use it to prove people innocent?

Daphne laughed. "You think that politicians and rich people would allow Veritaserum to be used as evidence in court? It'd make it so they actually get caught for what they do! Of course it's banned in court, don't be stupid."

"Oh." Harry drooped a bit. That made sense. "But why do you seem to dislike that? Aren't you from an old pureblood house? One of the Sacred Twenty Eight?"

"So? Just because my parents, cousins, and every other person in my family may be terrible, it doesn't mean I am terrible." She shrugged lightly. "I still love them, but I can acknowledge they aren't the best people."

"Like Sirius…" Harry muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Harry shook his head. "Anyways, where do we go? We can't stay here, obviously."

"...I somewhat hoped you'd have an answer to that?" Daphne awkwardly responded.

Harry exhaled deeply. Of course he had to have the answer here. It was sad that he had one.

Sirius would be ecstatic to see him this time of year, wouldn't he be?" "Yeah, I know a place. We just need to grab our things." A lightbulb went off in his head. "Dobby!"

A pop sounded in the room. A tiny elf appeared. "Oh, Mister Harry Potter Sirs calls for Dobby! Dobby is honoured, Mister Harry Potter Sirs! What can Dobby be doing for yous?" Dobby frantically nodded, practically bouncing in place."

Daphne shot the house-elf an amused glance. "This is your elf?"

"No, he isn't my elf." Harry corrected, smiling at Dobby. "Dobby is a free elf. We're friends and he helps me out from time to time."

"Harry Potter Sirs considers Dobby to be a friend?" Dobby weepingly said, tears pouring from his eyes.

"None of that, Dobby. Of course we are friends." Harry patted the weeping elf's shoulder. "Now, we could really use your help. Could you, by any chance, grab all of my luggage and all of Daphne Greengrasses luggage?"

Dobby looked at Daphne and then back to him. Dobby nodded quickly. "Dobby can get Harry Potter's stuffs and his missie's."

"We're not—" Both cut in. Dobby was already gone.

"Strange elf." Daphne commented, staring at the spot Dobby vanished from.

Harry snorted. "You don't know the half of it. But, he is a good friend."

The blonde's lips upturned. "A strange friend, then."

"A strange friend." He agreed.

They stood in a comfortable silence, waiting for Dobby to get back. It didn't take very long for Harry to get restless.

"So…do you want to destroy Umbridge's office?" Harry asked with a bright grin. "I doubt she'd miss it very much."

Daphne's eyes lit up. "I'd love to." She pulled out her wand and flicked it forward. "Depulso." The shelves of glassery broke, bunches of glass falling and shattering.

Harry quickly got to work with her, doing their best to ravage the room. The walls were turned black, all the shelves were destroyed and the cat plates broken or transfigured. The desk was transfigured into risque statues while the tea cups were turned into knives.

He got special joy out of giving it a muggle touch. Images of different Jedi from Star Wars were on some of the plates. He put Churchill on a tea cup and the Queen on a massive portrait.

"You're bloody brilliant." Harry breathed out when he saw what Daphne was making. She'd made artwork of several half-human species doing things that would give Umbridge an aneurysm.

Daphne grinned at him brightly. "I know. It's a Slytherin trait."

"I'm a poor fool, then." He shook his head sadly. "For I am no Slytherin."

Harry was mildly sad he'd never met this girl before at Hogwarts. She's got a tongue sharper than any of the Weasleys and wit to put Rowena Ravenclaw herself to shame.

Didn't hurt that she was gorgeous.

"More Slytherin than Malfoy, that's for sure. Or Crabbe and Goyle. What's their ambition? To be Malfoy's footstool?" She patted my arm comfortingly.

Harry hummed. "They might actually want to be his footstools…" He groaned, looking away. "That visage is disgusting in my head."

Daphne gagged as well. At the same time, Dobby appeared with a pop, Daphne and his clothes floating behind the elf.

"Thank you, Dobby!' Harry smiled warmly at his friend. "You're a good mate. Could you, by any chance, take us to muggle London?"

"Muggle London, Harry Potter Sirs?" Dobby questioned, titling his head. "Dobby can take you only to Diagon Alley. Bad Dobby! Bad!"

"No! Dobby, stop." He grabbed Dobby's hand. "Don't do that. Diagon Alley is more than good enough."

Dooby looked up, eyes big. "Is Harry Potter Sirs sure?"

"Very sure, Dobby."

Soon, they were at the front of the Leaky Cauldron, trunks shrunk and everything. It was near empty, the night sky overhead in a half-crescent moon. "No werewolves, at least." He joked, looking towards Daphne.

"That'd be simply horrible." She replied, looking thoughtfully at the air. "So, where in muggle London is it that you want us to go?"

"My godfather's home. He'd love to have us." Sirius really would love to have them. And he'd love to tease Harry about taking a girl home when he barely knows her.

Daphne tilted her head curiously. "Your godfather? I didn't know you had a godfather. Would I know who they are?"

"You probably would." He ominously said, quirking his lips upwards. "I doubt there is a British wizard who hasn't heard of him."

"Well, don't leave a witch waiting. Who is it?" Daphne asked curiously, looking much like a cat with the way her head was angled.

Harry leaned in close towards her ear. "Sirius Black." He whispered. "He was framed and didn't actually do it."

Daphne took a step back, an expression of complete flabbergastation on her face. "...he was framed? You have such an odd life, Harry. Is this how it goes for everyone you meet? You completely flip their world upside down?"

"Is that an offer?" He wagged his eyebrows, a playful look on his face. "Because it sounds like one."

She lightly punched his arm, a smile on her face. "Prat."

Harry raised his hands placatively. "Hey, I'm just saying that you were rather quick to flee Hogwarts with me."

"And go to a mental ward?" She raised her eyebrow, looking at him like he was an idiot. "I'd prefer not to, thank you very much."

"Fine, fine." He waved his hand forward. "Well, we need to get…fairly far from here. Are you possibly, maybe, seventeen?"

She gave Harry a dry look. "I'm your age."

He deflated. "I know…"

"There are other ways to get rid of the Trace, you know."

He reinflated. "There are? How? Can you do it?"

"What am I, Morgana Le Fae?" She rolled her eyes. "Of course I can't do it. The Trace is applied by a Hogwarts professor when you take the boat ride as a first year. If you break your wand, a wandmaker can reapply it, setting the release date at your age…do you get what I am saying?"

"If they can add it, they can remove it?"

"Exactly!" She praised him. "If they can add it, they can remove it. We just need to get a sympathetic wandmaker to do something that would get them life in Azkaban if they are caught!"

"How easy." He nodded solemnly. "And how is it that the Trace is applied to the wand? I got in trouble with the Trace when someone else did magic around me."

She hummed. "It's because the Trace is only picked up in designated areas, those being highly populated muggle areas and the homes of muggleborns. In magical areas, there are too many signals to try and pick up the trace. In your case, whoever did it must've mimicked your Trace Signature."

Harry nodded like that made any sense.

Time to find a wand maker, then. This would be so easy.