CHAPTER 35 – THE SLYTHERIN STANDOFF

Harry, Hermione, Fleur, alongside Daphne and Tracey, took on the task of meticulously vetting each applicant—especially the Slytherins—before extending invitations. Despite initial reservations, they eventually accepted all applicants, the influx of new members pushing the club's total count to over fifty. Notably, this surge included a significant number of older students from various houses who, until then, had remained skeptical but were finally swayed to join the club.

The resurgence of Defense Against the Dark Arts as a captivating class stood in stark contrast to the mundane routine of the initial school months. Dumbledore, unexpectedly taking on the role of instructor, wielded a natural talent for teaching. His ease in the classroom, coupled with an innate ability to elucidate intricate lessons and explore arcane magical theories, transformed the subject into one eagerly anticipated rather than dreaded. For many students, this revelation of Dumbledore's teaching prowess humanized the enigmatic Headmaster, rendering him more approachable than ever before. The tales of his past heroics, particularly his pivotal role in vanquishing the previous Dark Lord and his connection with Gellert Grindelwald, had long shrouded him in legend. Witnessing him excel in the classroom, a facet previously hidden from the student body, sparked admiration and respect, even from those who had always found him accessible.

Meanwhile, the rhythm of other classes remained largely unchanged throughout the year. The approaching winter break and the highly anticipated Yule Ball captivated students' attention, diverting some focus from their studies. Despite this distraction, life at the school continued in its familiar patterns.

Within their close-knit circle of friends, Harry and Fleur's heartfelt discussions and burgeoning intimacy had solidified a newfound comfort between them. The progression in their relationship, though subtle, marked a significant step forward from their previous interactions. Both felt a growing ease in each other's presence, paving the way for deeper considerations of intimacy.

This newfound closeness manifested in more overt displays of affection. They began openly holding hands while strolling through the corridors and established a tender ritual of bidding each other farewell with a kiss whenever parting ways. These small yet significant gestures mirrored the deeper bond blossoming between them, signaling a shift in their relationship towards a more intimate and affectionate realm.

Harry and Fleur's burgeoning affection didn't escape the watchful eyes of their friends, though they tactfully refrained from making explicit comments. The Weasley twins, renowned for their playful antics, found ample entertainment in teasing the pair. They would put on exaggerated dreamy expressions whenever Fleur was around, jesting that it mirrored Harry's enamored gaze whenever he laid eyes on the beautiful French witch. Harry, in turn, couldn't help but revel a bit in the envy he stirred among the other boys by having Fleur by his side, a fact that didn't deter the teasing but certainly armed him with a playful retort.

Meanwhile, Daphne Greengrass was acutely aware of the allure she exuded. Her slender figure, mesmerizing blue eyes, and flowing ebony locks epitomized youthful beauty transitioning into womanhood. Her modest height served her well, avoiding the intimidation that often accompanied towering over others—a trait she noticed made some boys slightly apprehensive around taller girls. Conscious of her own attractiveness, confirmed not just by her reflection but also by the lingering gazes she often received, she understood the double-edged nature of this attention. It attracted admirers she'd rather avoid, notably Draco Malfoy, who persistently pursued her, expecting her to succumb to his presumptuous demands—a request made despite his supposed betrothal to Pansy Parkinson, a fact Draco conveniently disregarded in his pursuit of what he deemed fitting behavior.

Daphne's upbringing instilled in her the belief that she deserved as much respect as anyone, Malfoy included. She staunchly refused to entertain the notion of becoming a mere pawn in his game, seeing no semblance of respectability in being his plaything. Beyond his outward appearance, his entitled demeanor and repulsive attitude repelled her. Despite Malfoy's relentless attempts to woo her, she maintained her steadfast disinterest, finding him utterly repugnant and deserving only of her disdain.

Fortunately, Malfoy's ineptitude provided her with a shield against his advances. His inflated ego far outweighed his actual competence, a fact she found somewhat fortunate. A Malfoy possessing genuine skill coupled with his arrogance would indeed be a hazardous prospect. Despite his persistence, Daphne remained unfazed by his efforts, resolute in her dismissal of his advances.

This stance was unmistakably clear in an incident that unfolded one Friday after the tournament. After spending most of the evening engrossed in Charms research at the library, Daphne made her way back to the Slytherin common room just before curfew. As she traversed the dungeon corridor leading to her destination, Malfoy and Parkinson, his ever-present sidekick, emerged from a side passage, confronting her with sneers and disdain.

"Well, if it isn't Greengrass out after curfew," Parkinson jeered in her customary manner.

Daphne couldn't help but roll her eyes at the duo before her. Snape's choice of prefects couldn't have been more ineffectual if he'd actively sought incompetence. "I still have ten minutes, in case you're having trouble telling time," she retorted, her tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Pansy, ever eager for a verbal spar, seemed ready to retort when Draco sharply intervened. "Shut up, Pansy," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument. "I need to speak with Daphne alone for a moment. Wait for me at the end of the hall."

The command was issued with an air of expectation, and Draco disregarded Pansy completely, focusing his attention solely on Daphne. Pansy, seemingly accustomed to such dismissive behavior from Draco, shot him a glare before haughtily striding away, clearly offended. Daphne braced herself, anticipating Draco's usual attempt to impose his unwelcome attentions upon her once more. Suppressing her exasperation, she refrained from displaying any sign of annoyance, knowing it could only escalate the situation.

However, Draco's unexpected departure from his typical tirade caught her off guard. Instead of launching into his customary lecture about respecting her supposed superiors, he regarded her thoughtfully, a departure from his impulsive nature. The shift in his demeanor unsettled her, leaving her cautious and uncertain of his intentions.

"I'm rather disappointed in you, Daphne," Draco finally spoke, cutting straight to the point without preamble.

Daphne maintained her composed demeanor, responding with nothing more than a quirked eyebrow as she fixed her gaze on Draco.

"You've never exhibited proper respect for your superiors," Draco persisted, his tone dripping with disdain, "but you've always associated with those who match your own status. Lately, though, you've started displaying definite blood traitor tendencies."

"Perhaps those tendencies were always there, and you simply never noticed," Daphne retorted, a hint of impudence coloring her response.

Draco paused, seemingly considering her words for a moment. "Well, you do spend a lot of time with Davis," he pointed out. Tracey, a Half-blood, was among the few of her kind in Slytherin. While not everyone in the house deemed blood purity a crucial factor, there were those who considered it significant. Tracey's acceptance was owed to her father's Slytherin heritage and his status within the wizarding community, despite his marriage to a Muggle-born. Should Tracey's younger brother be sorted into Slytherin the following year—as was expected—he would likely receive similar acceptance, likely with an advantage due to his status as the heir.

As Draco continued his diatribe, delving into disparaging remarks, Daphne found her thoughts interrupted by his relentless stream of words. His disdainful tone, particularly when referring to Tracey's mother, ignited a spark of distaste within her. However, she couldn't help but interject as his tirade showed no signs of abating.

"Malfoy," she interjected, halting what seemed like the onset of a rant, "I don't require your approval to choose my friends. I've never heeded your opinions before."

"Perhaps not," Draco admitted, "but we still need to address your disgraceful conduct at some point."

At this, Daphne couldn't contain her eye roll, blatantly displaying her disregard for Draco's words. "My so-called 'disgraceful conduct' is none of your business."

"Listen, Greengrass," he retorted, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone as he switched to using her surname, "I'm just warning you that things have changed. Associating with Bones and Davis might be tolerable, but aligning yourself with Potter's circle will have repercussions. I'd reconsider sticking around with him and his friends if I were you."

Daphne's inquiry lingered in the air, the subtle undercurrent of ambition and strategy coloring her words. "And what if my closeness serves my own agendas?" she inquired, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes. "After all, cunning and ambition are our Slytherin hallmarks."

Draco's response was a practiced display of polite veneer, masking deeper intentions. "Indeed, we embody those qualities," he acknowledged with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But there are individuals far more advantageous to align with."

The corridor's silence was pierced by an unexpected interjection. "As if anyone would willingly cozy up to pond scum like you," a bold voice countered the conversation.

Daphne's smile broadened as Tracey made her presence known, fixing her gaze on Malfoy. Despite his evident displeasure, Tracey seemed impervious to his disdain. The friction between them had become the stuff of Slytherin legend. Tracey viewed Malfoy as a privileged prince reliant on his father's influence, an opinion rooted firmly in reality. Conversely, Malfoy regarded Tracey as an upstart, leveraging her father's wealth for acceptance. His disdain was only exacerbated by her apparent indifference to appearances, although Daphne knew Tracey could present herself quite strikingly when she wished.

Tracey, relishing the tension, stoked the flames further. "Our esteemed housemate," she continued, a mischievous spark igniting her words, "wouldn't recognize cunning even if it landed a punch on his nose."

The tension crackled between them, each word seemingly adding fuel to an already burning fire.

"No one solicited your opinion, Davis," Malfoy's voice dripped with disdain.

Tracey maintained her airy demeanor. "I'm not one to wait for invitations to share my thoughts, Malfoy."

"You'll learn your place," Malfoy asserted, pointedly ignoring Tracey as he redirected his focus to Daphne. "Associating with the wrong crowd, Daphne. It might have been overlooked before, but times are changing. You ought to consider that."

"Let's be clear, Malfoy. We all know you're referring to that imbecile whose father incessantly caters to you-know-who. But in case it slipped your mind, the Greengrasses remained neutral in the last conflict, and we plan to continue that stance."

Despite his rising ire at the disrespectful reference to the Dark Lord, Malfoy tempered his anger. "Your allegiance with Potter seems to contradict that stance."

"Who I befriend doesn't dictate our family's politics," Daphne countered firmly. "My father, as the head of our house, determines our course. My association with Potter's circle serves my own objectives. And my father is well-informed and untroubled by my choices."

Malfoy edged closer, adopting a tone of apparent sincerity. "There will come a point where neutrality becomes unacceptable. Despite your father's decisions, you can shield yourself by taking a definitive stance now. And aligning with a respected Pureblood wouldn't hurt your prospects."

As Malfoy's eyes roved over her form, a predatory glint tainted his expression, sending an involuntary shiver down Daphne's spine. His gaze always left her feeling soiled, as if an invisible layer of grime clung to her under his scrutiny.

"A Pureblood of esteemed lineage indeed," Tracey remarked with a derisive snort. "Malfoy, your subtlety rivals that of a mating she-dragon."

"I'd venture to say Mr. Malfoy here leans more towards Gryffindor than Slytherin," Daphne quipped, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.

Flushed with fury, Malfoy seemed on the verge of retaliation when Daphne decided to intercede, diffusing the tension. "Why don't you scurry off, Malfoy?" she taunted. "Your attempts at intimidation have been feeble since our arrival. And now that Potter's been offering us guidance, you're nothing more than an irritating gnat buzzing around."

"Moreover," Tracey added, "it's evident you're hardly proficient in the rudiments of wand technique. So unless you want to tarnish your precious Pureblood image further, I'd suggest leaving us be."

"Your threats hold no sway over us," Daphne dismissed with nonchalance. "But feel free to attempt whatever you please."

For a fleeting moment, it appeared Malfoy might lose his composure, but he swiftly reined in his emotions, maintaining a facade of icy control.

"It seems our punishment won't be administered today," Tracey remarked, noting what Daphne had observed. "Shall we proceed?"

Nodding to Tracey to lead the way, Daphne and her companion sauntered down the corridor toward their common room. Catching sight of Parkinson lingering near the entrance, Daphne couldn't resist delivering one final jab.

"Best tend to your boyfriend, Parkinson," she remarked with a smirk. "Seems he's having a rather rough day."

"And while you're at it," Tracey added with a mischievous twinkle, "make sure to give him some extra affection. I hear he's wandering off the path."

Pansy shot them a venomous glare before darting down the corridor in pursuit of her beau. Tracey chuckled, ensuring her comment trailed after the swiftly departing girl, before shaking her head and turning away.

The common room buzzed with activity typical for a Friday night. Students congregated in clusters—chatting, gaming, and a few earnestly studying, primarily the older years gearing up for their looming NEWTs. By unspoken accord, Daphne and Tracey made their way through the common room toward the staircase leading to their dormitories. The somber, gothic aesthetics and the often-unpleasant company made the common room less than inviting. The dorms weren't drastically different, but at least they offered a modicum of privacy and personalization.

Entering the girls' dormitory, they found it spacious, each bed sectioned off by curtains for privacy. They gravitated toward Daphne's area, ensuring they were alone—Pansy had presumably accompanied Malfoy, while Bulstrode was conspicuously absent. Hopefully, they'd enjoy some uninterrupted time.

"I only caught snippets of Malfoy's spiel," Tracey began, her directness a refreshing contrast to Malfoy's attempted cleverness. "It didn't sound like his usual diatribe."

"It was odd," Daphne responded, a furrow forming between her brows. "That whole notion of being seen on a Pureblood's arm—it's new coming from him."

"Unusual, and not in his usual transparent style," Tracey concurred.

"That's troubling. He's typically quite straightforward. What could he be plotting?" Daphne pondered aloud.

"Come on, Daphne, put two and two together," Tracey urged. "Ten days back, he practically begs to join the club, storms off when Harry declines. Then, I hear he's badgering Zabini about it yesterday, and today, he approaches you without even a solid attempt to worm his way in. Seems crystal clear to me what he's after."

Daphne's expression darkened. "You think he's trying to stir trouble for us? On his father's orders?"

Tracey nodded grimly. "It's the only explanation that fits. We'll need to keep our wits about us and watch our backs. Malfoy's not one to give up easily, especially when it comes to his family's interests."

"While I can't say for certain, I'm dead sure Malfoy doesn't sneeze without daddy's say-so," Tracey remarked sharply. "I reckon he was ordered to infiltrate the club, though their approach was idiotic if you ask me. Or maybe it's just Malfoy's own idiocy mucking things up—I can't say. But now, after being rebuffed, he's yammering about 'wrong associations' to the Slytherin crew."

Daphne pondered Tracey's words, a furrow forming on her brow as she revisited their previous conversation. The discussion about Malfoy's persistent attempts to infiltrate their club had been fleeting, dismissed as another instance of his usual foolishness. Yet, his subsequent actions, subtle but disconcerting, now echoed in her mind.

"It's exactly what we anticipated," she reflected aloud, her thoughts crystallizing. For someone entrenched in his haughty beliefs, consorting with Potter or any Gryffindor would be perceived as a treacherous act. In Malfoy's skewed hierarchy, it became his self-imposed duty to subjugate the supposed traitors. Despite their expectation, the rest of the house's indifference to their club—and the surprising addition of a few more members—diminished Malfoy's relevance. If anyone beyond him had taken issue, their situation might have turned dire.

Tracey leaned in, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and curiosity. "What's our move then?"

"We inform Harry," Daphne replied, a hint of determination in her voice. "And we disregard Malfoy's antics. Harry might feel the urge to rearrange Malfoy's insides, but we'll assure him that we're unfazed by Malfoy's attempts."

Tracey nodded in agreement, though a flicker of uncertainty danced in her eyes. "Do you think Harry will take it lightly?"

Daphne shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. "He might consider using Malfoy as a test subject for his more creative hexes. But he'll come around once we affirm our solidarity."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Hermione, who noticed their serious expressions. "Everything alright?"

Daphne exchanged a glance with Tracey before speaking. "Just discussing the Malfoy situation."

Hermione's eyes widened in understanding, and she offered a reassuring smile. "Harry will appreciate the heads-up. And Malfoy won't pose much of a threat once Harry gets wind of it."

With a shared nod, the trio agreed on their course of action. Daphne felt a surge of confidence knowing they were united in their approach. "Exactly. Malfoy's bark is worse than his bite."

As they settled into their evening routine, the anticipation of what lay ahead simmered beneath the surface. But with Harry on their side, they were ready to face whatever challenges Malfoy's machinations might throw their way.

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