Daphne II
Daphne didn't really understand the appeal of Quidditch. She didn't have much of a reason for her disinterest. She hadn't been weaned on it like she had been with football. There wasn't a family photo of her sitting on her mother's lap at a Puddlemere match. No, her three-year-old self in that photo was clearly wearing a Chelsea top while looking quite ready to cry from the noise at Stamford Bridge.
She suspected the rules had something to do with it. There wasn't the same sort of tension that grew when you could see the clock ticking toward the end of the match. Instead, more often than not, she found herself staring aimlessly at nothing while trying to spot the Snitch, which meant she was ignoring the action as the Chasers played.
Part of her wished she cared more. Her friends and housemates could get so invested in it that she felt like she was missing something. But, despite attending every school match, and even a few professional matches, the game never appealed to her in the same way football did.
She figured it would be different if Dylan were playing. But even then, it would be less about the game and more about Dylan. But that would still have made it far more interesting than sitting next to him and wondering if the elves had anything fun going on at the concession stands.
Outside of football, though, most sports didn't hold her attention for very long. Rugby was okay. Tennis was tedious. Cricket was an excellent cure for insomnia. As was racing.
She didn't mind baseball, even if she was fairly sure she was the only one of her classmates that even knew it existed. But there were different reasons behind that.
A few summers ago her father attended a conference in Seattle. Her family decided to make a massive vacation out of it and spent almost a month on the western coast of the United States doing mostly touristy things as they traveled up from San Diego to Seattle. She'd rather enjoyed the amusement parks and beaches more than anything in the cities, and it was clear the couple of days in wine country were far more interesting to her parents than to the kids.
But they'd still managed to stay busy and entertained.
Either way, the trip had ended in Seattle. They'd spent most of the daytime hours with their mother exploring sites and museums while their father's conference droned on. But after it was done he'd taken them to a baseball game one night.
As far as she knew he had no real interest in the sport, aside from a general love of sports as a concept. He made a comment along the lines of he'd always wanted to see the American sport to someone at the conference which led to pristine tickets for he and his family that evening at one of the games.
A bunch of fans were milling around the home team's dugout before the game, which was only a few feet from their seats. One of the young players popped out from the dugout and started chatting and signing autographs.
Dylan had rushed to join them, for no real reason than it was something to do. Daphne had remained firmly planted in the seat, finding herself nearly unable to breathe. The young ballplayer's smile sent a jolt of something that, at the time, she hadn't really understood through her body. Still, she realized four things at that moment.
His smile was perfect. He was gorgeous. She rather liked how the tight uniform pants fit him. And, most importantly, largely because of the first three, if he played this silly Muggle game, then it couldn't have been all bad.
Somehow, Dylan had managed to get a signed ball, which he still had. Even if she considered stealing it from him. Because he'd touched that ball. And Oh My God. Their mother and Astoria spent most of the game wandering the concourses and sampling the food, while she sat firmly in her seat next to their father and Dylan and watched the game.
Well, that wasn't strictly true. She watched the one player far more than the game. Either way, she figured, baseball had its merits, even if her experience with it totaled about seven innings.
It had been a fun family vacation. Her parents were toying with something similar for the next summer as there was another conference in New York in August. She thought it would be fun. And she was fairly sure New York would involve fewer sporting events. Although she figured they'd probably do something shorter as Astoria had summer football camps and Dylan had both Qudditch and football to contend with.
Still, she could enjoy the competition of it all, even if she didn't care much for the game. And she felt much the same way about Quidditch. She shook herself from her thoughts to watch the Chasers for a few minutes. But her interest waned in a hurry and she drifted back off.
She'd heard the Gryffindor team only barely got approved to play in this match. Part of her doubted Umbridge even wanted to do it. But given that she'd instantly approved the other three houses, and her only complaint against Gryffindor was Harry Potter, it seemed like she'd stalled just to screw them as much as possible.
She couldn't quite fathom that Umbridge thought she could get away with it. There certainly had to be alumni and parents writing wondering what was going on. But perhaps her experience with parental advocating wasn't universal. She frowned at the thought.
But in a way it made sense, she certainly knew that she was rather lucky in that department. She heard the way other students and many of her friends talked about their parents and couldn't say with any sort of honesty that she had the same complaints.
It wasn't like they never argued, or yelled, or disagreed. But there was never a moment when she doubted for a second that they cared for her, or that they were thinking of anything but her best interests.
She'd heard some rumblings that the Gryffindor team was playing this particular match in protest. Whatever that meant she wasn't sure. In fact, if questioned, she would have said it meant nothing. But given their lack of practice time and their re-formation as a team only a few days ago, that had been their decision.
In a way she felt rather bad for them. It had been, albeit rather indirectly, her fault that their team hadn't been reformed as quickly as the others. Well, at least in a way. In a way it had also been Harry Potter's fault, for, well, being Harry Potter. Even if his smile could, in the very brief moments she'd seen it, rival that of a Seattle Mariner. That certainly hadn't been enough to sway Umbridge.
Her inclusion into one of their little gaming sessions had been brief. She'd barely stayed an hour while they'd found their sessions started to run about three. Neville had been brilliant. They could tell it was a bit of a diversion, as the group made no progress north toward The Land.
Instead he'd put them into an odd little side-dungeon. One devoid of any actual combat and very few harmful traps. But with many complicated puzzles to work out.
She hated to think how long it must have taken him to design each of the little maps and puzzles he presented to them as they worked their way through an ancient crypt. He seemed to understand that any excess bloodshed or talks of damage being done and the like may have given Professor Umbridge the wrong idea. So he'd avoided it with a series of excellent puzzle rooms.
At the hour mark she'd decided she'd seen enough. She told them there was nothing untoward about their little group and they could continue having their sessions. When she'd left, Neville had asked if they wanted to leave the crypt and continue on their way instead of exploring.
They unanimously decided to stay even if he insisted there wasn't much of a reward at the end of it. They earned some gold and Alisen got a staff covered with skulls that she'd described as 'adorable'. Daphne was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with the Ravenclaw but figured it best to keep her mouth shut.
It had gone well, a fun little diversion from their main goal. And some good bonding between the characters as they worked toward a common goal. They'd bickered some, sure, but it was all good natured.
What she hadn't known then, and really hadn't figured out until just a few days ago, was how Umbridge was going to use that against Harry. It was sort of infuriating that, in a way, they'd walked right into her trap.
She'd continued to dither about letting the Gryffindor team reform. Despite Harry acting like an absolute angel in class.
Seriously, it was almost gross. He was perky, he was chipper, he was perhaps even more of a model student than Granger. He did all of his work, he volunteered answers, he answered when called on, he didn't talk out of turn. He didn't even do any of it with the slightest hint of sarcasm. She wondered how he could take it.
Hell, part of her wondered if they were Polyjuicing other students into his place.
But he took every snide comment she threw his way. Without a word. Without even showing the slightest hint that it was bothering him. Had she not known better she would have assumed that he'd agreed with the crap Umbridge was peddling.
He even seemed oblivious to her needling as the classes droned on. But he never even quipped back at her once. He never wound up in detention. He never even lost a single point. But still she didn't relent.
Angelina Johnson passed them on their way out of Defense almost every day. And almost every day she'd glare at Harry before asking a few curt questions about whether or not he'd gotten into trouble that day. He'd answer in the negative and she'd storm into Umbridge's classroom, clearly not believing him. Daphne would hear her starting to argue almost as soon as she'd entered the room.
And, as the Quidditch match grew closer, Umbridge never seemed any closer to relenting.
This last Monday she'd stayed behind a few minutes after class. She hadn't meant to. But the way Angelina was yelling at Harry, glaring at Harry, and really altogether being a bitch to Harry rubbed her the wrong way. So she stood by his side through it all. It didn't earn her more than a glare from the Gryffindor Captain.
She ordered him to stay. He raised his brows at her but didn't say a word. If she noticed the vitriol in his glare she didn't comment. Daphne couldn't imagine a world where she didn't notice. She didn't think Angelina Johnson was the brightest licorice wand in the bag from their very limited interactions, but she couldn't have been that obtuse. Had Harry glared at her like he had his captain may have sent her running for the hills. There was nothing but hate behind his eyes.
Angelina stormed into Professor Umbridge's classroom like she had every other day since the educational decree passed.
Harry leaned against a wall, obeying his team Captain's orders. Which was more than she'd have expected. She felt like Kaden would have told the woman to bugger off. No, that wasn't right. Arestes or Wyckham would have told the woman to leave them alone. If she'd persisted and continued to be argumentative Kaden would have done something more akin to flashing a blade or throwing a punch. He liked problems being over before, well, they became problems.
She wondered if Neville realized just how violent Harry would turn out to be in their sessions. She was pretty sure he'd foiled a couple of encounters before they'd even started by just deciding to attack rather than listen to any reasoning. And, well, whenever he attacked, Padma attacked, always a little too eager to throw magic around in a pinch. And Ron, once he'd noticed what was going on, wasn't about to let something happen to Harry. And by that point she figured it was better to go with the group or anything.
So, mostly, Dylan spent his time trying to convince them away from violence. They were slowly convincing him otherwise but she did suspect Neville had to alter some plans as they all seemed to be firmly on Team Chaos.
She'd walked over toward his wall and leaned against it next to him. She shifted slightly so their arms were touching. Her first instinct was to lean away. But Harry made no motion to shift from her touch, so she leaned more on him instead. It wasn't very long before her head was resting on his shoulder as they both quietly waited.
Part of her thought she should say something. But there seemed to be little point to trying to talk over Angelina's yelling. And she was getting quite furious with the Professor. Enough that she was almost certainly going to get more than one detention.
Professor Umbrdige let Angelina go on for a while. Daphne found it a little odd that the Professor let it go on as long as she did. But the Professor showed no sign of stopping her. At least until Angelina yelled that it was clear she was only doing it to spite Harry.
Daphne wished she knew exactly how Professor Umbridge quieted her so quickly. Whether it was some type of hex, or a glare, she would never know. But it worked out incredibly well. She was rather jealous.
Umbridge, though, spoke with her voice only ever so slightly raised. Despite having a student scream at her, she didn't need to respond in kind. Instead, she rather clearly explained that Harry Potter was a member of two clubs at Hogwarts.
Angelina tried to argue with her but it had gone nowhere. Instead Umbridge had merely continued, talking over her.
Harry Potter was a member of two clubs at Hogwarts, she'd repeated. One of which she had approved on the same day she'd issued the most recent decree. And that her objections with the Gryffindor Quidditch team were entirely based on the leadership of that team, and not on the presence of Harry Potter.
Daphne picked up on it before Harry did. Or at least before he showed that he did. She suspected that he picked up on things far quicker than he let on. Although that wasn't fair. It wasn't that he acted stupid. His reactions were always measured. It wouldn't have surprised her if he'd figured it out long before this point. Hell, she suspected he may have known as soon as she'd approved their other group. Which was interesting. He seemed to love Quidditch, but he'd put himself more on the line with their campaign group than he had his team.
Angelina Johnson stormed out of the classroom. Daphne hadn't heard Umbrdige dismiss her but could see the fury in the Chaser's eyes as she stormed out. She glared at both of them and gestured for Harry to follow her. Daphne realized that her head was still on his shoulder. She shifted away from him, only to notice Harry hadn't moved.
"I don't know what she's thinking," Harry said.
"Umbridge?" Daphne asked. "I think it's kind of obvious she's just needling people."
"No, sorry," Harry said, shaking his head. "Angelina."
"Oh. I don't think she's being any different than any of the other captains," Daphne answered.
"Except she is, and that's the problem," Harry answered
"How so?"
"They were certainly more measured. Granted they may have met less resistance but they weren't screaming at Umbridge. It's like she thinks throwing a tantrum will get her what she wants. She's not acting much like a leader, is she?" Harry asked. Daphne felt her lips curl downward. She wasn't much sure what he could have meant by that. Which, she figured, may have been rather problematic given that she was supposed to be the leader of their adventuring party.
Well, she could deal with that later. She supposed there were worse things than being a sort of figurehead leader. They even all did ask her about their little side activities and their travel plans. So it wasn't like she wasn't making any decisions.
"I still don't get it."
"She's not doing anything but complaining to Professor Umbridge. Constantly. And getting more and more…passionate…about it as she does. It's clearly not having the effect she intended but she keeps doing it. She should have changed her strategy. At this point I'd offer to resign but I don't think that would help anything. Might force her hand but I can't imagine she'd be that bothered. I legitimately think her issue right now is more with Angelina annoying her than it is me."
"Maybe you should have been Captain," Daphne said. She had to agree, she didn't think him not playing would help their team much at this point. Well, it would help her team some, Slytherin might actually beat them if he didn't play.
"Maybe," he said with a slight snort. He shifted himself off of the wall and turned to look at her. She found herself oddly self-conscious under his gaze.
Which was stupid, why should she? It wasn't like he hadn't looked at her a hundred times before. And it wasn't like she had much of a choice pertaining to her appearance. She wore the same uniform as every other girl in the castle. Well, she was probably more conservative with it than most. She was pretty sure she was the only girl in her year who hadn't shortened her skirt at least a little bit.
Not that there was anything wrong with that. She thought the minor form of rebellion a little silly, sure, but it wasn't like it wholly mattered. Hell, she'd helped Tracey and Pansy with the tailoring charms. She'd have probably done hers as well but she also thought it served to set a worse example for Astoria. And Astoria would a thousand percent rat her out if she did. So she hadn't bothered. It wasn't like a Hogwarts uniform was sexy even if the skirt was a little bit shorter than regulation.
Hell, more than half the time she wore pants anyway. Although today she had opted for the skirt. And her jumper was clean. At least she thought it was. She hadn't looked that closely when she put it on. Which now seemed like a gigantic oversight on her part.
"You don't seem sure of yourself," she said, hoping to take her own mind off of whatever he was looking at when he looked at her. What did he see? What did she want him to see? Why was she blushing thinking about it?
"I don't want to be the Captain," Harry said.
"You know you almost certainly will be next year. I'm kind of surprised you weren't this year, to be honest," Daphne said. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how strange it was that he didn't have either that badge, or a Prefect's badge, or really, both, on his robes.
Then again, Ron was good in the role. Maybe a little too mellow when it came down to it, but she'd seen him diffuse a few issues with younger students with no major fuss. He was a bit more hands off than some of the prefects, like Granger, but wasn't afraid of butting in if needed, unlike, say, Draco, seemed to care far more for the badge than the duties. Ron seemed innately good at noticing when younger students needed help, and was quick to provide it. And he was more personable and considerably less scary than Harry Potter. He tended to cede responsibility to Granger when she was around, but he did just fine when left to his own devices from what she'd witnessed.
"It might be Katie," Harry countered, referring to another established member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
"It might be," Daphne agreed. "But it won't be."
"Well, I'll have to cross that bridge when the time comes," Harry said.
"Isn't it a pretty big deal?" she asked. She couldn't quite remember the last time she'd heard of a member on the Slytherin team that hadn't wanted to be the captain. In fact the way Draco talked about it in the common room made it rather clear it was his ultimate goal.
"Sure," Harry shrugged.
"But you don't want it?" she asked. His disinterest in the conversation was obvious, but she still couldn't help but needle him about it. His only real response was another slight shrug of his shoulders. So she figured she should add, "You'd be good at it."
"Probably," he agreed with a quiet sort of confidence that helped her know she was correct. "But I'd rather just focus on the Snitch."
"I see," she said. It wasn't unreasonable.
"And I see the people that come up to Angelina constantly and complain about her choices, her practice schedule, her team members, her reservists. It seems exhausting. I'd probably get irritated at it and end up hexing them," Harry said.
"Well, if you did, they'd stop bothering you," Daphne answered. It drew a smile out of Harry, which in turn, made her blush and smile. Which was stupid why would she blush just because a boy smiled at her?
He didn't say anything for a few moments before he lifted himself off of the wall and turned to look at her.
"I should go see what she wants," he said.
"Okay," she responded. He took two steps away then turned back to look at her. He tilted his head to the side before he spoke.
"You should come to the seventh floor corridor tonight. Near that tapestry of the trolls trying to learn ballet, around seven," Harry said.
"What, why?" she asked. He only smirked at her. A smirk that made her annoyingly warm, mind you, but still, only a smirk.
"You'll see. Bring Dylan," he answered before walking off down the hall. She remembered being annoyed at that thought. If he was asking her somewhere why in the world would he want Dylan to come?
She'd debated just not telling him and going alone but good sense won out. So she'd dragged a whining Dylan up to the seventh floor where a single door waited for them. She entered it and found a noisy classroom filled with people from every house. About half of whom were slinging spells at each other.
The noise faded as soon as they noticed her and Dylan.
"What are they doing here?" she heard Lee Jordan scoff as she entered the room. She peered around and noticed that almost every pair of eyes turned to focus on her. She felt herself blushing and fought the urge to flee as a lump rose in her throat. A few other students started mumbling something along the same lines.
"Hoping to learn. Just like everyone else who signed that parchment," a loud, clear voice rang from the other side of the room. Every eye immediately left her and shifted toward Harry Potter and he walked toward her.
"But they-" a voice called out.
"Have as much of a right to be here as anyone else. And I shouldn't have had to personally invite them," Harry said. He turned his glare toward Hermione, who shifted behind Ron and looked away from him. There was some more grumbling but Harry continued to approach her.
He hugged her, briefly, before nodding at Dylan and leading both of them deeper into the room. Padma and Neville scuffled over to join them. She found herself being handed a pair of galleons while it seemed like three people tried to talk at once.
Her introduction to Dumbledore's Army, as they called it, went rather smoothly after that. She and Dylan spent most of that first night talking with Padma and Neville as Harry wandered around the room and helped with spells or lectured.
He was quite good at it, she had to admit. Although she wondered why she expected he wouldn't be. He had a certain knack for explaining spells in a simple, understated manner that made everything feel easy. Far more so than any of the former Defense classes she'd attended.
The next couple of hours passed in a blur. And when she and Dylan walked back toward the Slytherin common room she found herself looking forward to the next session almost as much as their little game.
A particularly loud cheer from the crowd jolted her back to the Quidditch reality. She scanned around, trying to see what all the fuss was about, but didn't find anything of note. She gave Dylan a bit of a side glance to ask for help but he was focused more on the Chasers speeding toward the other end of the pitch.
The Defense meetings happened fairly often. And with their Conjurations and Catacombs gatherings as well, she found herself spending far less time in the Common Room than she had in previous years. At least for the C stuff she didn't have to think of an excuse as to why she was leaving and answer awkward questions about why she hadn't been in the library when she was allegedly studying.
Millicent, Pansy and Tracey were all harping on her at night, convinced she had a secret she wasn't sharing with them and trying to needle it out of her. She thought she'd been fairly good about giving up nothing. But the knowing looks they all gave her whenever the topic came up made her wonder if they'd figured something out.
Oh well, no matter what they assumed she figured they'd be wrong. And that was enough for her. At least for the time being.
Anyway, Professor Umbridge agreed to reinstate the Gryffindor Quidditch team. There were rumors it had taken intervention from Professor Dumbledore or McGonagall, but as far as Daphne could tell, those were just rumors.
Professor Umbridge agreed to let them practice and play again on the Thursday before the first weekend match. So they'd had roughly two days to prepare for the match. And, all-in-all, she had to admit given the current score, they were performing far better than she thought they should be given such constraints.
She watched the match for a few more minutes before letting her thoughts drift back off toward the past couple of weeks. The Defense group wasn't quite as much fun as their little adventure. But she was enjoying it as well. Granted, she looked forward more to Wednesdays than anything else.
A lot of that, she assumed, had to do with the fact that the game was more of a leisure activity than anything else. And while the Defense group was fun. It was still a form of classwork. Although, thankfully, Harry didn't assign any homework.
It also helped that she didn't have to put up with any insulting whispers from others in attendance during their gaming sessions. Padma, she thought wryly, at least had the decency to not whisper about her while she was in the same room. Then again, it wasn't like she flirted with Neville, so Padma probably didn't care.
The other girls in the Defense group liked to act like they didn't see her when they gossiped. But she knew better. It didn't bother her too much. But that wasn't to say it didn't bother her at all.
They would whisper dumb things, like the only reason she was there was that Harry thought she was hot. Part of her didn't understand that. Did they think it was an insult? While she didn't want to be judged purely based on her looks, she still knew she got better grades than most of them, not that it mattered. But if Harry thought she was prettier than they were, then why on Earth was that her problem? If she were ugly, wouldn't that say more about Harry than her?
It wasn't like he acted on that at all. He didn't even really flirt with her. But he didn't ever really flirt with anyone. Part of her wondered just how much of a terror he would have been had he.
That was only compounded by some of the other things they said about him. Especially some select groups of them who, she was fairly sure, were not attending his little Defense clubs because of any interest in their education.
And the more she listened to them, the more she thought he could have had any of them. Honestly, he may have been able to have all of them. And quite possibly at the same time if he wished it.
That wasn't a thought she wanted to think about for any longer so she focused on anything else. Unfortunately that threw her back to her homework and the trouble she was having with a Charms essay. She worked through it in her head until Dylan grabbed her arm.
She growled at him in a way that would have made Seralyse proud. But before she could chastise him she found her eyes drawn up to Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter as they weaved toward a sparkling golden ball.
She watched as they weaved around each other in the air. Draco's movements seemed frantic, wild, almost like he wasn't fully in control of his broom. Whereas Harry's movements were far more measured. There was no excess to it. In fact, it seemed like he took the least amount of movement possible even as he weaved around Draco.
The pair dived after the Snitch as it shot straight toward the ground. Draco tried to weave through Harry as they fell, but with an almost imperceptible twitch of his broom Harry avoided him.
Both boys stretched toward the Snitch but it was clear from the stands that Harry had the better angle. He'd been able to maintain the dive better, in moments he'd be on top of the Snitch and the match would be over while Draco would overshoot it.
It was almost anticlimactic. It certainly didn't have the feel of the last couple of minutes of a particularly important football match. She watched as his hand reached out and wrapped around the Golden Snitch.
A sort of flutter shot through her stomach as Harry's arm flashed upward, Snitch in hand. A small part of her wanted to scold her for being more amused by a Gryffindor win than a Slytherin one. But Draco was a jackass, and largely prevented Dylan from being able to play Quidditch at school. So screw him.
Her thoughts were shattered as one of the iron Bludgers flew straight into Harry's back. He fell off the side of his broom as the Gryffindor section of the stands jeered loudly. Daphne rather hoped the general din of the crowd prevented anyone from hearing her own voiced displeasure.
It was clearly a late play. Although perhaps not too late to be totally unwarranted. It wasn't the most uncommon thing to see happen in a Quidditch match. The delay between hitting a bludger and having it reach its target often led to some unintended impacts. Normally the opposing Beater would fly down, apologize, and help the Seeker up. This time, though Gregory Goyle merely laughed as the Slytherin team floated to the ground. It was, at best, a show of poor sportsmanship. But given his general ineptitude about hitting Bludgers during the match itself it was hard to attribute intention to his post-match actions.
Both teams landed on the pitch facing off with each other as Madam Hooch tried to get into the middle of it. She saw Harry pull himself up off of the ground and shrug at one of his teammates, as if the fact that he'd been leveled by a Bludger after the end of a match wasn't a big deal.
She could see Draco Malfoy jeering at Harry. Which felt stupid given he'd just lost a damn match. Then one of the Weasley twins lunged at Draco, but Harry held him back.
At least until he didn't. He just let go. And the twin charged straight at Malfoy.
A scrum followed. She couldn't make out much in the chaos from the stands. Some people around her cheered, others seemed more confused than anything, while most were making their way out of the stands.
She saw Umbridge step in once Hooch had quelled the fighting. She couldn't make out the words as she and Dylan left the stadium, but the expression that flashed across Harry's face made it quite obvious that he was furious with her.
They only heard rumors as they walked back into the school. They started as detentions and merged quickly into expulsions. But the one that seemed to pop up the most was that Umbridge had banned the Weasley twins and Harry Potter from ever playing Quidditch again at Hogwarts and that she'd confiscated their brooms.
Daphne had to admit that given that brooms were specifically allowed at Hogwarts and not on any of the banned items lists, she wasn't sure that a Professor had the authority to actually take it from a student. And given that Harry Potter owned a Firebolt of all things, well, she hoped he got a receipt from the professor about it. She'd be furious if it were hers and it came back with scratches on it or damaged bristles or some such thing.
Honestly, she didn't understand why the solution was for Professor Umbridge to take the items when the obvious answer would have been to send the items back to their homes. She felt that was far and away easier and would have had far fewer possible negative consequences.
Then again, Professor Umbridge didn't strike her as the type to worry about negative consequences. And she was too much of a coward to voice her opinion on the gossip among her housemates. Although it did amuse her to see Dylan wince at the mention of the Firebolt being shackled tightly and secured away from Harry.
Gossiping didn't keep her entertained for very long so she wandered out into the Entrance Hall in hopes of seeing Harry when he came back in from Quidditch.
She didn't have to wait long. About a half hour later he came walking in with Ron and the Weasley twins. They all looked rather put out, which she could understand, even though they'd technically won the match.
The Twins saw her and their expressions immediately hardened. Ron wasn't paying much attention as he walked and Harry's mind also appeared to be elsewhere. She stood and walked over toward them but before she could even open her mouth one of the Weasley twins spoke up.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I just," she started but was interrupted.
"No one wants you here," the other twin interjected.
"Shut up, Fred," Harry said. Fred and George's eyes both widened as they looked at Harry. Ron took a step back so he was out of the direct line of sight of either of his brothers. She saw a ghost of a smile flash across his face.
"I'm not going to listen to more Slytherin insults," Fred said.
"Daphne, are you here to insult my dead mother and every member of the Weasley clan?" Harry asked. Daphne blinked at him and took a moment to make sure she'd heard him correctly.
"No! Of course not. Why on Earth would I do that? Wait. Is that what Malfoy did? I can't believe he…Actually, that's stupid. I can believe he would do that. I'm sorry. I just came to say I thought it was dumb that you were banned and that you didn't even deserve it," Daphne said.
"Had I known I was going to get thrown in with them I'd have at least thrown a punch," Harry sighed, annoyance evident in his voice.
"She'd have tried to send you to Azkaban," Ron laughed. Fred and George glared at her but seemed to think it in their best interest to stalk off toward Gryffindor Tower.
"Surprised she didn't anyway," Harry said.
"So, uhm, are you guys busy?" Daphne asked.
"Charms, Potions and Transfiguration," Ron said.
"Oh, ouch," Daphne answered.
"Angelina went overboard with the practices after the team finally got approved," Ron said.
"Did you have something in mind?" Harry asked.
"I thought you might want to find Neville and see if he's up for a game. Help cheer everyone up, you know," Daphne blushed. Harry pressed his lips together and seemed legitimately torn by the option.
"Sounds fun," Ron said. "Why don't you two sneak off to one of the sitting rooms instead of our usual classroom and I'll see if I can find Neville and everyone else. I doubt anyone will be inspecting them."
"You think that's a good idea?" Harry asked.
"I think it's a great idea," Ron said. He gave Harry a quick smirk, as if he was two steps ahead of him, before he followed after his brothers and Daphne found herself following Harry Potter through a portion of the castle she didn't visit much. She didn't think many students did. It was a smaller wing, where the adults hosted adult things when necessary.
Honestly, the rooms weren't for students' use. And they were kept locked with some rather potent magic. She didn't say anything as they walked. Harry picked one room about halfway down the hallway and muttered a word and the door opened.
He gestured for her to enter before him. She did and watched as he left the door open a crack and followed her into the room. She peered around. It was a fairly simple room. Two long couches flanked a center table with chairs on the other ends. Everything was well furnished and a certain woodsmoke scent lingered from a fireplace in the corner.
"How did you get in?" she asked.
"I'm clever," he answered.
"Tell me," she said.
"No," he answered.
"Why not?" she scoffed.
"Because."
"You suck."
"Dobby," Harry said.
"Dobby?" Daphne asked.
"Yes Harry Potter sir?" a house elf asked from next to Harry. Daphne blinked at it. She'd seen elves before, although her family did not possess one. But they did help out at the Hospital and Tracey's family had one. She was personable, if a little strange, and would pop up randomly when they had sleepovers to make sure no one needed anything. They made her a bit uncomfortable, honestly, and she thought it odd to see Harry with one.
"You have a house elf?" Daphne asked.
"No," Harry said.
"Dobby is proud to serve Harry Potter!" the elf said. Daphne raised her brows to express her disbelief at his previous response and peered between the two of them.
"Dobby is my friend," Harry said. Daphne watched as the elf practically swooned, tears welling in his eyes. "He's helped me through a couple of rough patches. He's a free elf."
"I did not know those existed," Daphne said as the elf hugged Harry's leg. He peered down at it, looking annoyed by the situation. It explained how he could know the password to the room, though, if an elf gave him the information.
"Dobby," Harry said again. The elf pulled himself from Harry and looked at him.
"Yes?"
"Would you be so kind as to fetch my Charms textbook and perhaps something to eat?"
"Yes sir!" Dobby said. He vanished in an instant.
"That's handy," Daphne said.
"I guess," Harry shrugged. "I don't see him much. But I'm starving."
"Quidditch will do that," she said. A moment later his textbook appeared on the table, along with an assortment of dinnerware. An instant after that a whole roasted chicken showed up. Followed by roasted carrots, a parsnip puree, and asparagus over a rice pilaf. Harry walked over toward the table and picked up one of the plates. He then paused and looked at the food, before looking at her.
She stared back at him. Her eyes narrowed. She wasn't quite sure what he wanted. Did he expect her to serve him? That was absurd. But something some of her more conservative housemates leaned toward. Hell, Pansy had even cut Draco's food for a time, until they'd grown rather relentless with their teasing. She wasn't sure Draco had ever gotten over it.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't ask. Would you like some?"
"Uh," she started. Her instincts told her to decline. But all she'd bothered to eat that day was a quarter of Dylan's crisps at the Quidditch match. Well, maybe half. Maybe two-thirds. Maybe all of them but one. It didn't matter. "Sure."
"Alright," Harry said. He cut into the chicken with a practiced hand, shaving off chunks of the breast almost absently. And, moments later, she found an assortment of all of the food on one of the plates. A bottle of Butterbeer joined it from an icebox she hadn't noticed before underneath the table. This elf of his, she thought as she took a bite of the chicken, had to be quite handy to have around.
They didn't talk much while they ate. The silence that lingered, though, was comfortable. They sat together on one of the couches and enjoyed the late lunch. She was rather surprised that Ron and the others hadn't shown by the time they'd finished.
"You mind if I work on Charms while we wait?" Harry asked, gesturing to the textbook. She shook her head.
"Actually I didn't quite get the homework done either, we could go through it together," she answered.
"That would be great," he said. And so they did. It didn't take long, less than an hour to complete it. And still none of the others had wandered in. Maybe they were having trouble finding Dylan? If he locked himself in the Slytherin common room it might be difficult for them.
She wondered about it until Harry started talking about their characters. And the conversation flowed from there. It wasn't anything of note, really. Mostly they were just talking to talk. She found she liked listening to him. And she liked the way he smiled at her while she talked.
It could have been an act, she realized. A mechanism to make her think he was paying attention. But he looked like he was enjoying her words and the little stories she'd go off on. At least as much as she was enjoying his.
She almost told him her secrets then. Even if Neville had indicated he'd like certain things to come out at certain points. It colored her judgment. She figured she couldn't be the only one with one. But the others never brought it up. Then again, it wasn't like she did, either. So maybe they were all just equally tight-lipped. Although she was fairly sure Dylan didn't have much of a secret to him.
Even if his family was one of the more important ones in all of Calabar. She'd picked up on his surname when he'd said it. As had Harry. She figured Neville must have enjoyed the fact that they'd actually read through his notes and remembered bits of it.
At some point, and she had no idea how they got there, they wound up talking about Muggle movies. Harry hadn't seen many, he'd admitted. Her parents both liked them. They'd go at least once a month to whatever inane kid film was out when they were growing up. But it wasn't a practice that lasted much into their Hogwarts years. But she had fond memories of the childhood outings.
Harry grew quiet at that. She frowned. He didn't have parents, she knew, but he had some family. They all knew he lived with an aunt and uncle. It shouldn't have been that bad of an experience, she thought. A pang shot through her chest as she thought it. Was she only thinking like that because of how much it could have affected her own life?
She'd never thought growing up with an aunt and uncle could be that bad. Why should she? What if it was, though? Like inherently? What did that say about her?
He pulled her from that thought by asking about her homelife. Muggle movies for a Magical family seemed odd to him.
It wasn't, she said. At least not really. Plenty of families straddled both worlds. And given the growing number of Muggleborns she expected that would continue. Her father possessed both a doctorate in Muggle medicine and his Healer credentials. Her mother attempted to do the same but children got in the way and she'd decided to stay with only the magical credentials.
She did toy with the idea of finishing the Muggle portion but she'd never put those plans in motion.
But because of her father's interests they had a modern Muggle home in Kensington. And they entertained Muggle and Magical alike. She even mentioned the conference in Seattle he'd attended as Muggle speaker. Although she left out the part about the baseballer with a great smile.
He listened to her talk, asking pointed questions and seeming fascinated by it all. It wasn't until later in the evening, well after he'd checked his watch only to realize they were dangerously close to being out after hours, that she realized he must have been wondering about what his life could have been like.
He seemed to relish her fun childhood memories, things like learning to love Chelsea because her mother did, enjoying going to movies, and being bored at the Natural History Museum when her parents dragged the family there for at least the tenth time to try to instill some interest in the past with them. They'd had about a thirty-three percent success rate. But she and Astoria were lost causes.
He chuckled at her joke but didn't seem to get it. He didn't ask a followup question though, as by then it was time to retire.
It wasn't until she made it back to the common room and saw Dylan playing exploding snap that she realized none of their companions had shown up. She wondered if Ron had even attempted to find them. Arestes could have been that forgetful, but Ron didn't seem the type. Not that she knew much about him outside of their small circle. The thought that it had been intentional, though, sat oddly with her as she ducked toward the dormitories to shower and head to bed.
When she cuddled into her blankets that she realized she missed Harry. And that the thought of having him there, warm and strong in her bed, made her chew on her lip and slowly flushed thoughts of any ballplayers from her mind as she drifted off to sleep.
The days continued on in that way as the holidays marched ever closer. Harry seemed fairly normal in their sessions. He didn't antagonize Umbridge at all. Even when she dropped the occasional barbed taunt in his direction.
If he missed Quidditch he didn't show it. It turned into an interesting dichotomy between he and Ron in their weekly sessions. With each week, Angelina's grueling practice schedule clearly wore on Ron. But Harry seemed almost invigorated in the same moments.
Their games continued, their defense lessons continued, and Hogwarts turned festive. She loved the holidays. She always had. Part of her assumed it came from early memories of walking through London at Christmas time with her family. She always longed to do that and looked forward to the two-week reprieve from school.
Most students grew a bit restless as the holiday approached. The Professors noticed, and classes devolved into something far less formal as the days wound down. Even Harry sensed the change as he devoted most of their last little defense club to reviewing things they'd done before.
About half of the regulars left when they found that out, citing either wanting to get a headstart on homework for the break or having to pack or some such thing. Neither of which seemed like a terrible idea to Daphne but Harry was there so she stayed. Which forced Dylan to stay so she had someone to practice with.
Not that it mattered, they didn't do much practicing. She'd spent most of her time wondering who'd gone through the effort of decorating the room for the holidays. After an hour or so almost everyone had filtered out of the room. Hermione Granger tried to occupy Harry for most of the night but he'd slipped away from her to help out others. Cho Chang seemed to need a remarkable amount of attention for someone who was supposed to be intelligent. And she was batting her eyelashes to the point where Daphne wondered if she had some strange medical condition.
She hadn't had much of an opinion at all about the other girl before that moment. But now it was rather clear she was stupid, ugly, lazy, stupid, and ugly. And that Harry was wasting his time trying to help her.
She said as much to Dylan. Who laughed at her. Which wasn't the response she'd expected but did serve to cow her into submission.
Not too long after that she found that essentially everyone but their adventuring party, Hermione, Cho, and one of Cho's friends she didn't recognize were lingering around. The six of them ignored the other three as they started to chat, with Padma leading the conversation.
"You live in London, right?" she asked, looking at Daphne and Dylan.
"Yes," Daphne answered. "Why?"
"And you live in London, right?"
"Haslemere, but sure," Neville answered.
"And you?"
"Also Surrey," Harry answered. The two of them exchanged a look, as if surprised by that bit of information.
"I don't live in London," Ron said.
"Yeah but your dad works at the ministry. I'm sure you can get there readily enough," Padma said, dismissing Ron with a wave of her hand. To his credit, Ron merely shrugged and smiled. It was Harry who looked the most skeptical about it.
"I guess," Ron said.
"I think we should keep our Wednesdays going. Think we could manage to meet at the Leaky Cauldron both days around lunch?" Padma asked.
"I think that would be great," Daphne said.
"I'm sure I can get into town," Neville answered. "My Grandmother always tells me I should do more. I can't imagine she'd object." Harry and Ron both hesitated though. But eventually, Harry answered.
"I think I can make that work," Harry said. There was something odd about his tone that Daphne couldn't place. But she didn't think questioning him in front of all of their friends was the best way to go about it. Thankfully, not everyone shared that opinion.
"They are not going to let you wander around London alone," Hermione Granger scoffed.
"And you know them so well?" Padma hissed back, accenting the word to give the impression she thought it was just a vague excuse Granger was using.
"Better than you," Hermione growled.
"It's getting late," Ron said as he shifted around Harry and took Hermione's hand. She tried to shake her grip out from his but he held firm. "I think it's time to head back to the common room. And I could use some help with McGonagall's lesson."
Daphne watched as Granger glared at him. She seemed torn between a need to lecture him on the schoolwork and to lecture Harry on whatever they were talking about. But as Ron pulled her away, the schoolwork obviously won, as she started talking about principles behind Transfiguration.
Padma peered at all of them then turned toward Cho and the other Ravenclaw.
"You guys mind escoring me back to the tower? You know how Peeves can be around holidays," she said.
"What's wrong with Peeves?" Daphne asked. She didn't think he was any more obnoxious around Christmas than he was any time of the year.
"Peeves thinks that every holiday is Holi, and that we just love to be doused in paint," Padma scoffed. Daphne hadn't heard of that before, but figured she wasn't one to judge whatever experiences Padma had.
"That's awful," Neville said. It earned him a smile and he added. "I'll come too."
"Thanks," Padma said as she convinced the others to leave. Dylan turned to look at her.
"Shall we?" he asked.
"You can go. I'll just see if Harry needs any help cleaning up and follow," Daphne said. Dylan raised his brows at her and gave her a pointed look but after a moment shook his head and followed the others out.
"I don't need any help," Harry said after they'd left.
"None?" Daphne asked. She couldn't help but giggle at that. She was sure there were things he would love her to help with. But she didn't voice that. Instead she took a deep breath and wondered if she would be brave enough to do what she wanted. She'd never thought of herself as a coward.
"No," Harry laughed at her giggle. "The room will take care of it."
"Abusing your elf, eh?" she teased.
"No," he shook his head. "The room will literally take care of it. It's what it does. It can alter to be anything you could want."
"Anything?" Daphne teased.
"Well, within reason I think, I haven't fully tested it."
"And you decided on holiday decorations today?" she asked.
"No. It did that on its own," Harry said.
"So you expect me to believe you didn't put the mistletoe above us?"
"There isn't any mistletoe above us," Harry said with a quick glance upward.
"Why not?"
"How should I know?"
"Don't you want there to be?"
"I'm kind of indifferent about it. I think it's a dumb plant. It doesn't look nearly as nice as wreaths or garlands in my opinion," Harry said. She blinked at him as she realized he was being serious.
"Seriously Harry?"
"Yes," he said, confusion rising in his expression. He turned and gestured to a bookshelf in the corner covered with twinkling garlands. "Doesn't that look so much better than some random plant hanging from the—-"
He'd had a point. Which was why she'd had to shut him up. The garlands did look better, as far as decorations went. And getting into an argument about it was stupid, especially when she already knew she'd be wrong. And the easiest way to shut him up was to press her lips to his.
He froze. But she did too. Even if she'd never admit that. They stood there for a moment, lips on lips, doing nothing else. But after a moment his arms slid around her and his lips moved against hers. She let her own part for his tongue as he deepened the kiss. She found she liked the way he felt, the way he tasted, and how he tensed against her.
But it was over as soon as it began. He slipped his lips from hers and stepped back, staring at her in obvious confusion.
"We shouldn't do that," he said.
"Why not?" she asked, finding no real logical reason why they shouldn't stay in the room and do precisely that for a rather long while.
"Oh come on. You know why," he glowered at her.
"No. I really don't," she answered. Her eyes narrowed. But then that brief flash of anger faded and was replaced with confusion and the sinking feeling of rejection. She really didn't know why. What was wrong with her? She saw him look at her, smile at her, peer at her when he thought she didn't notice in class. And she'd thought there'd been something between them in that sitting room. And dammit she liked him. He was fun, thoughtful, and rather attractive.
And she thought she was pretty enough. She wasn't as beautiful as Padma, to be sure. But she wasn't a hag! He could do a lot worse! Like that banshee Cho Chang!
"I don't think your boyfriend would appreciate it," he said. And it was a valid point. Except for the fact that it was based on a fallacy.
"I don't have a boyfriend. Never have."
"Yes you do."
"I feel like I would be aware if I did. And I'm not. So I don't."
"Dylan?" Harry asked.
"You think Dylan is my boyfriend?"
"Yes?"
"Ew Harry. Gross!"
"Does he think that?"
"He better! He's my brother!"
"What!?" Harry blinked at her, his entire expression one of abject confusion. As if she couldn't have said anything that surprised him more. She stared at him for a moment, finding herself bewildered by the entire situation. But he looked genuinely surprised. And they weren't in the same house, so maybe all the same information wasn't as common of knowledge. She took a deep breath and explained.
"Well, cousin technically. But I've known him pretty much as long as he's been alive."
"What?" Harry blinked at her in obvious confusion.
"Our moms were sisters," Daphne said. "My parents took him in after his parents, well, died."
"But you're so close," Harry said. Daphne shrugged. She supposed they were. Closer than a lot of her friends and their siblings. But most of her friends didn't have siblings that they were only a few months older than. She was closer with Dylan than she was with Astoria. But she'd always figured that had more to do with the fact that they were virtually the same age than anything else.
"I guess. We're friends. He's only a few months younger than me. He just missed the cutoff of being in our year," Daphne shrugged. It had never seemed unusual for her to hang out with Dylan. He'd been a constant companion for as long as she had memories. She'd actually missed him during her first year while he was still at home.
"I had no idea," he said. His expression was unreadable. She thought that was odd. He certainly knew what happened to Dylan's parents. They'd used it as a taunt against him at The Hog's Head. And it wasn't like he himself wasn't an orphan who'd gone to live with his Aunt and Uncle. How could it have been such a strange concept for him to grasp?
But nothing about that directly linked them together. And it wasn't like they overly advertised it. Sure, her friends and his friends all knew. So she'd assumed everyone had known. It wasn't like it was particularly interesting gossip. His expression started to drift. As if he was losing himself in his own thoughts so she decided to continue talking.
"Well, either way, Dylan is not, and will never be, my boyfriend," she said. She paused for a moment before adding, "Perv."
"That would be weird," Harry agreed. He paused then as well before looking at her. His lips curled into a smirk as his expression changed. He was putting a mask back up, she could tell. He wasn't sure about where their conversation was going, so he was going to change it. She wondered where he would go with it.
"Yes," she agreed. "It would be weird."
"I still don't think your boyfriend would like you kissing other blokes," Harry said.
"We've been over this," she answered. "I don't have a boyfriend."
"Yes you do," he said, stepping closer to her.
"Oh? Who now?" she asked.
"Me," he answered as his lips met hers once more. This time they let it go on until they remembered that they had to breathe. After he pressed her forehead to his and smiled down at her as they caught their breath.
She liked feeling him against her like that. His breath was hot on her lips and he had a pleasing, almost piney scent.
"Okay, fine," she said. "You can be my boyfriend. But you don't get to go kissing any strange blokes either."
"I won't," he laughed. She closed her eyes and thought of losing herself there for hours.
But they didn't have hours. He shifted his lips to her forehead, kissing her there once before speaking.
"It's almost after hours," he said. She nodded. She let her hands slide around his arms and down until she took one of his hands. They walked slowly out of the room and made their way to the staircase.
She wasn't sure what she expected, but he walked her the whole way back to the Slytherin common room, despite the fact that he had almost no chance of making it back to Gryffindor tower without getting in trouble. But he didn't seem bothered by that little detail. Instead, he kissed her once more, wished her a good night, and turned to walk away from her with a sort of spring in his step.
She watched him go, and smiled at him when he turned to look at her. It was strange, she thought. It had been how she'd wanted the night to go. But she hadn't been sure when she'd made that decision. Or how to get to that decision.
She wanted to find someone to gush to when she entered the common room. But none of her usual targets felt right. So she kept it to herself as she went up to bed, already looking forward to the coming holidays and wondering if they couldn't turn one of the days into a romantic date in London as well.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing, I do appreciate all of the support I receive. If you wish to support me further you can find me on PAT RE ON ate TE7writes. There are ten additional chapters of this story currently live over there as well as the final chapters of my other WIP, Cleansing The Sins of The Past.
Next up here we stay with the Hogwarts contingent for the holidays in Harry III. As always, thanks for reading!