Colours of Obsession
A story of how the meeting of three colours finally manages to bring together an unknown romance between an obsessed, in-denial Daphne Greengrass and an equally obsessed, and less in-denial, Harry Potter.
*O*O*O*
"Too many joyrides in daddy's Jaguar,
Too many white lies and white lines.
Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends,
Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends."
*O*O*O*
A/N:
Sorry! I lied. The first task isn't happening in this chapter. I got side-tracked writing and fleshing out the details for this one. Though, there's at least some action, so I hope it'll suffice.
Oh, and since I'm not using Italics for flashbacks anymore, I tried to make it a bit clearer when one happens. They should start some italicized text indicating as such. Transitions that occur within flashbacks are also indicated with X's instead of the usual O's.
Hope that clears up any confusion.
*O*O*O*
Two weeks had passed since the fateful formation of the Chimaeras had taken place. And in that time, lots had happened within the school and the group.
A frenetic energy had gripped the entire student body, who were all eagerly awaiting the start of the first part of the tournament. They were so excited that they had even started an underground betting ring. Supposedly the Weasley Twins had concocted this plan as a way to make quick money as unsanctioned bookies, but their hands seemed surprisingly clean whenever they were inspected by Prefects.
Bets were available for every single task, as well as who would be crowned as the overall victor of the Tournament. As such, students were scrounging up every spare knut, sickle and galleon they could find to place their bets. They searched deep in their trunks and school bags, tearing up their common room couches for any spare change in the hopes of striking it big on their chosen champions.
As many had confidence that the Bulgarian would be sweeping the competition, it was no surprise that the odds for Krum were the lowest. He was followed by Cedric and Fleur, while Harry's odds were the highest and the worst, giving nearly a 10 to 1 payout.
Now that was a lot of galleons to be won.
This outcome wasn't at all surprising given Harry's age and inexperience, but a majority of students had also bet against him because they didn't want him to win either.
Yet, for some odd reason, a small group of First-year Slytherins seemed to have defied expectations by pooling a substantial amount of money together and going all in on Harry. Many others questioned their logic, but none suspected that it had been meant as a show of support for him. They had just chalked it up to the ever-ambitious Snakes trying to win it big on the underdog of the competition.
But what his competitors had that Harry lacked, he made up for through diligence and consistency in training.
What other free time had been spent with his partner, friends, and corresponding to Sirius and the manager of the nearby Flourish and Blotts.
Sirius' replies had been few and far between, and communication between them had stopped upon the last letter he'd received. Sirius had covertly returned to Hogsmeade, taking refuge in some cave or another. He had at least promised that he'd reach out to his godson when the time was right.
Thankfully, Harry wasn't the least bit lonely with the Chimaeras around.
The manager of Flourish and Blotts had also gotten back to him regarding his interest in purchasing a particular product. It was one he had come across during his date with Daphne in Hogsmeade.
He hadn't paid it too much mind at the time but ever since they'd come up with the plan for using the Portkey, Harry realised how useful it could be.
*O*O*O*
Two days after the formation of the Chimaeras…
Harry and Daphne stood on opposite ends of one of the ratty tables in the Clubhouse, a cylindrical delivery wrapped in parchment set in front of them.
Hedwig was perched on Harry's shoulder, staring expectantly at him after making her delivery. Paulie the Parrot was still preoccupied with ferrying letters between him and Sirius, so Hedwig had been called up to help make the delivery in his stead.
"Thanks, girl," Harry smiled. He rewarded her with a dried piece of bacon he'd been keeping in his pocket for this occasion.
Hedwig accepted the tasty treat, flapped her wings and swooped off Harry's shoulder. She made a pass around Daphne as if eyeing her before she hooted and dove out of the window they had opened for her.
"Hedwig likes you," commented Harry, and Daphne laughed at the seal of approval she'd gotten from his owl.
"Good," Daphne tucked her hair behind her ear, her gaze demure. "Because I plan to be here for a while."
Harry couldn't help making his silly smile at the implication of her comment. "You better be."
"Alright, we can flirt more later, Harry." She scanned the package and recognised the familiar wax seal that kept the package shut. "Flourish and Blotts? What did you order?"
Harry answered her question by gently peeling away the seal and unfurling the package. Now on the table were a few sheets of seemingly ordinary paper.
"They call it Binding Paper."
"Never heard of it. What does it do?"
"It's new to the market. It'll hide the presence of magic in objects. Meant to be used by parents as wrapping paper for magical gifts during birthdays and Christmases." Harry took a sheet and held it out in front of them. It was light as a feather and translucent.
"So you're using that to hide the presence of the Portkey you'll be taking on you?"
"Yep. But its main purpose is to act as an extra measure to stop me from accidentally triggering the Portkey."
"Wouldn't it be a hassle to remove the paper in a pinch?"
"You'd be right, but that's where its secondary feature comes in — and the other reason why it's used as wrapping paper." Harry ripped a small piece off and he channelled the slightest bit of his magic into the tips of his fingers, which he had the torn piece pinched between.
The pair watched as it began to crisp up, its edges turning black from an invisible fire that converged towards Harry's fingers. Bright orange embers formed shortly after it had been burnt, and the tiny flecks floated away in a brilliant, golden display. A second later it was all gone, dissipating into the air. Harry rubbed his fingers together, showing them to Daphne. There wasn't even soot left behind.
"That was quick, and a pretty display too. Good purchase." Daphne walked over to him, slipping her hand into his. Harry agreed with a hum, idly drawing circles onto the back of her palm with his thumb.
With this out of the way, accidentally triggering his illegal escape method was one less thing he'd have to worry about when dealing with danger.
"Now, I've just got to find a suitable replacement for the Portkey."
"Why? Not going to use your old shoe?" Daphne teased, her other hand straightening out his loose tie. Then she tapped him lightly on the nose. "Why not? It's your lucky rabbit's foot."
"Har-har-har." Harry stuck his tongue out at her, "That thing's knocked me out at least once. It's anything but lucky."
"I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to find you anything else to use, Harry… In the meantime, didn't you have to meet Diggory?"
"Oh, right!" Harry's eyes widened upon remembering he was supposed to meet Cedric at the Quidditch Pitch in ten minutes. If he changed now and hurried over, he'd still make it in time! "Thanks for the reminder, Daph!"
Moments away from making a mad dash towards the door, Harry turned, paused, and gently cupped Daphne's face with his hands. He planted a large kiss between her brows, letting it linger for a second longer than she expected (and yes, she did replay the memory five times just to double-check her count).
Daphne's eyelids fluttered uncontrollably. She swore she felt his passion strike at her soul like a flint against steel, sending sparks through her body. Her knees wobbled slightly as she felt her strength ebb away from his kiss.
"I'll miss you!" When she snapped back to it, Harry was already bounding towards the door.
She managed to cough out a breathless reply. "I'll miss you too…"
"I'll miss you more!" Daphne was completely caught off-guard at his rapid reply and tried desperately to respond with a witty retort, but nothing came to mind.
She just shouted back the first thing that came to her mind before he could shut the door.
"T—Then I'll miss you the most!"
That kiss must have really fried her brain.
Ugh. She admonished herself. How lame.
But Harry didn't seem to think so. He stuck his head back into view and grinned at her. "Then I'll miss you twice that — and more!"
It almost seemed like he was making this goodbye as drawn out as possible as an excuse to stay with her for as long as he could. She was sure that as long as she was willing to play along, Harry would certainly stay for as long as necessary.
"Oh, just get going already, Harry!" She hadn't meant what she said, but being late would be very rude to Cedric who had offered to help. "And it's not a competition!"
Then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.
Seconds passed before Daphne sighed wistfully, already missing him.
Her only company now being the heavy silence of the room, she stood there by herself for a few more moments, absently toying with her necklace.
Oh, the things she'd do for a few more of those kisses!
*O*O*O*
While Harry was busy running around with his errands and training, the other Chimaeras had been busy with their pursuits.
During the first week, Tracey had been pushing and guiding Neville along with his skills on the broom, as well as slowly building his confidence.
They finally saw a breakthrough at the end of the first week, on the following Saturday.
*O*O*O*
One week after the formation of the Chimaeras.
Neville and Tracey had just finished a lap around the pitch, dressed moderately as they were now flying along the inside walls of the stadium. Taking another break on the ground, Neville was sitting on the grass and wiping the sweat off his brow.
In the middle of the pitch, he could see Harry and Cedric Diggory on their brooms, hovering about three or four meters off the ground.
Harry was in the middle of flipping himself upside down and throwing himself off his broom. He landed on his back on a few mats they had laid out before Cedric swooped down next to him to help him back up to his feet. They seemed to discuss what Harry had been doing, with Cedric seemingly repeating his actions and correcting him on his posture. After a few moments, they both rose back up into the air for another attempt.
His attention was directed back to Tracey, who descended gracefully with an empty flask in hand.
She bit down on the cork with her molars, and pulled the flask away with her arm, uncorking it in a brute fashion. She directed the tip of her wand at the mouth of the flask. "Aguamenti," she mumbled with the cork still in her mouth.
A steady trickle of water filled the glass to the brim before, still using her mouth, Tracey corked it back and tossed it to Neville. The boy fumbled with it, bouncing it up and down in his hands before finally catching it.
"Drink up, Nevs. Cold as it is, yer still sweating buckets out there."
Realising where the cork had been, Neville hesitated for a moment before mumbling out his thanks and doing as instructed.
"Hmmm… the last lap wasn't too bad," Tracey considered the boy as he drank, appraising him with a critical eye and a hand on her chin. "Still pretty shaky, but much better than before."
"Thanks, Tracey," Neville nodded, "It was around the turn, was it?"
"Ya noticed?" Tracey sounded a little surprised. She hadn't thought he did. The boy always looked a little too preoccupied with his thoughts, especially whenever he was on the broom.
"Yeah. I have a hard time steering, especially when I'm close to a wall," Neville informed her, "I think I'm just terrified of crashing."
"I bet," she smiled understandingly, "When I was just starting out I was scared of flying into walls too. But in all my years of high-speed riding, I've only ever crashed a handful of times. And it was mostly 'cos I was divin' through some dumb places."
"Like what?"
"When I was a wee lass, I dunno why but I thought I could fly through a tree if I tried hard enough." Tracey's admittance hadn't the least bit of shame to it. She sounded rather proud of her feat.
Neville winced at the thought.
Tracey laughed at the sight of the face he made. "Ya should've seen my mom's face. The woman was horrified. Thought her bloody daughter had just up and died on her watch. I still don't hear the end of it."
"So… how'd you get over it?" asked Neville.
"Well I was never really scared of flying like you to begin with so I couldn't tell ya, but… ya know the saying about 'playing to win instead of playing not to lose'?"
Neville scrunched his face up in thought.
"I think so?" he offered after a moment.
"Think of it like that. Yer never gonna improve if all ya worry about is trying not to get hurt. Just focus on flying for now, and worry about hurting after it happens."
Neville thought it sounded a little easier said than done, at least for his case. But Tracey had already begun to float up into the air, shouting down at him as she rose.
"Okay, break's over! Time ta put what ya just learnt to the test!"
She watched as Neville gingerly placed the flask onto the pitch before picking himself up off the floor and saddling up onto his broom. He took a few deep breaths before kicking off from the ground, starting slow but gradually picking up speed.
Just like Tracey had told him, Neville focused entirely on the act of flying.
Getting hurt wouldn't matter if he didn't crash.
The boy repeated the mantra as he glided along the walls speedily, keeping a good berth between himself and the wooden panels.
As he approached the corner, he picked up speed before leaning out just as Tracey had taught him. He swerved on his broom just in time, the tips of the bristles of his broom brushing up against the curve of the wall.
If only a little late, it was otherwise a great turn and a massive improvement from before. But even from where she was perched up in the sky and observing, she could tell his arms were a little shaky at having narrowly avoided a potential crash. Or perhaps it was the adrenaline rush of danger and success pumping through his veins.
Either way, he had both his hands raised in the air, cheering as he made a celebratory lap around the pitch.
Even Harry and Cedric had stopped what they were doing to clap and celebrate with him.
Aw. How cute.
Tracey couldn't help but smile at the sight.
It was nice to see him getting support. It would help with building confidence. And Neville looked good when he was confident.
She was even starting to be able to see herself datin—
Whoa! Now that was a thought.
He was… cute, of course. Just like she'd said.
But not that cute…
…Uh, right?
Tracey cleared her throat, looking a bit flustered as she brushed those thoughts aside.
She returned to her 'instructor' mode. If he'd managed this much of an improvement after just a single pep-talk, she couldn't imagine how much better he'd be by the end of the week from all the advice she'd be piling onto him.
Even with no one around, Tracey wondered aloud.
"Am I a bloody brilliant teacher, or what?"
She didn't acknowledge the overwhelming silence as a response to her obviously rhetorical question.
*O*O*O*
After that, no longer did Neville shake and shudder at the slightest distance between himself and the ground.
In fact, during the second week, he had grown comfortable enough to ride on his own without Tracey's constant supervision and assistance.
But though he had grown confident on the broom, he still paled a little when she suggested moving on to teaching him tricks on the broom.
Oh well! There was still plenty of time in the future.
Speaking of tricks and brooms, Harry had also eventually learned how to land with a Portkey from Cedric after his fourth lesson. The two boys had spent the rest of their arranged time getting to know each other more while Tracey and Neville practised nearby.
If Hermione and Daphne accompanied their friends to their training sessions, they normally sat together in the stands while discussing matters outside of school and studies. While they conversed, Daphne's hands kept themselves occupied with her newfound hobby of sketching, where she'd absently draw pictures of the landscape or of the other students. On another note, Hermione had been teaching Daphne and Tracey a little about Muggle culture, which they were very intrigued by.
Daphne thought it was interesting, already keen on going on Muggle dates with Harry one day as an experience. Going to these 'movies' sounded like quite an experience!
On the other hand, Tracey thought it was better than having Hermione teach her about things in her own world she was already supposed to know (but didn't). Besides, she found it rather funny to learn about things Muggles had or needed that wizards didn't thanks to the convenience of magic.
Muggle medicine sounded so ineffective in comparison!
But if they didn't join them at the pitch, the two witches would head to the library and wait for the rest while reading books together.
Sometimes Krum would even drop by and join them, much to Daphne's delight. She did relish in fostering the two students' relationship, and it was quite clear that both of them were warming up to each other with each encounter. Viktor had even begun indulging them with short folk tales from his home country.
Unfortunately, his many fans had grown wise of his coming-and-goings, and it had only been a matter of time until they found out he was seeking refuge in the library. So they gathered en masse to stalk the Bulgarian from afar, pretending to read books whilst they watched him interact with Hermione and Daphne.
While they were jealous based on their piercing gazes, none dared to do anything about it. They were at least considerate enough not to make a sound, but their respect for the rules of the library was mostly driven by the fear of the older witch who watched them all like a hawk from her desk.
The matter of stalkers aside, Daphne could tell that Krum was growing especially fond of Hermione. He'd been paying extra attention to Hermione, paying her simple, but sweet, compliments as the days went on. And there was a good reason for that!
Because over the last two weeks, Hermione had been getting makeovers with Daphne and Tracey's help…
*O*O*O*
Sometime in the middle of the first week…
While the boys weren't around, the front desk of the Clubhouse had been appropriated by Daphne and Tracey, who had practically turned it into a makeup station and makeshift salon.
A large, silver-trimmed mirror had been placed in the centre of the desk, both of which had been wiped down vigorously. Dozens and dozens of labelled bottles in various shapes, sizes, and colours surrounded the mirror, each an ointment, salve, cream, and balm that offered a solution to improving any witch's (or wizard's) physical needs.
The sight of all the different bottles was giving Hermione flashbacks to the riddle she solved to help Harry obtain the Philosopher's Stone. Even without the presence of poisons, it was still a little overwhelming for someone like her who had little to no experience with cosmetics.
It was especially after her traumatising experience with Polyjuice potion that Hermione had chosen to steer clear of beauty products. Taking two showers a day was already doing a good job of keeping her clean, so was there a need to indulge in anything more than that?
From then on, the only time she'd been exposed to anything related to the subject was overhearing about it from her roommates. But she had ended up ignoring all that chatter over the last four years.
Now, seated in an old, wooden reclining chair and staring at her nervous reflection, Hermione was starting to regret she hadn't listened to Lavender's wisdom. Fiddling her thumbs together awkwardly, she felt like she was a little girl again, waiting at her parents' office to get her teeth checked. All that was missing to call this a (very shabby) dentist's office were the sterilizing white lights, the sound of whirring drills, and crying children.
Flanking her sides were Daphne and Tracey. They had their robes cast aside today, their sleeves were rolled back, and both had tied their hair up into buns. Daphne's was pristine with nought a hair out of place, while Tracey's was much messier, with long, loose strands framing the sides of her face.
They looked particularly excited that they were finally getting the opportunity to work on Hermione.
"Before we begin, I'd just like to thank you again for putting your trust in us, Hermione." Daphne said to the frizzy brunette, who glanced at her through the mirror, "We understand this might be your first time having people… well, touching your face."
"Oh. My parents were dentists, so I suppose I'm a little used to it…"
Daphne looked befuddled. "What's a 'dentist'?"
"It's sort of a Muggle healer that specialises in teeth."
"Teeth. Ha!" Tracey repeated in disbelief, "What will Muggles think of next? A nose healer?"
"We have those too…"
Seeing that they were veering off-topic, Daphne steered the conversation back.
"In any case, we promise it's not as unpleasant as it seems."
Tracey reached a handout and cupped Hermione's chin, squeezing her cheeks playfully with her thumb and index finger.
"Yeah, Granger," Tracey's teasing tone was accompanied by a set of flirty, fluttering eyelids, "We'll be re~aaaal gentle…"
An audible gulp escaped Hermione's throat.
Daphne slapped Tracey in the arm for messing with their patient.
"Ow!" She let go of Hermione, tending to her stinging arm.
"Quit it, Trace. You're scaring her."
"Aw, can ya blame me?" The other brunette giggled, rubbing the sore spot, "By the time we're done with her, she's gonna be all pretty an' dolled up! I might actually start fallin' in love with her."
Perhaps it was the fact that Hermione was in a rather helpless position, and Tracey was in control, but she was being extra salacious today.
At least, more than she normally was.
Hermione's cheeks were even starting to burn a little at what Tracey had said. She had never experienced the sort of flirting Tracey was directing at her — even if she were joking (to what extent, Hermione wasn't quite sure).
Hermione wondered if this was the sort of attention she'd begin getting from boys after this. She hoped not. She was doing this mainly for herself.
Boys were more of a… byproduct in this journey of self-improvement.
Daphne squeezed her shoulder softly. "Just think of it as a spa day. Sit back, relax, and let us do all the work."
"I feel bad that you're taking the time and effort to do this for me. And you're using your products too." Hermione frowned a little, feeling a bit guilty. Some of those fancier bottles looked like they cost a bomb!
"Please, you don't have to feel bad. We've got plenty to share, and we're more than happy to do this for you. This is, in itself, a bonding session for us too. When you visit for the Summer, we can even help each other too!"
After spending so much time with Harry and Ron, the idea of spending summer as a teenage girl with other teenage girls sounded really nice to Hermione. It was something Hermione felt she was sorely missing in her life. And she had even started to relax a little more than before… when Tracey spoke up again.
"Wait… we didn't mix up the flowfern oil with the hair growth solution, did we?"
Hermione turned to look at Daphne, a bit of her earlier tenseness returning in her eyes.
"She's joking. You're in good hands," Daphne assured her before her eyes flitted over to Tracey. "Mine, at least."
"Hey! My hands haven't done anything bad… yet." Devious giggles escaped Tracey's large smile.
Hermione looked at Daphne again, a bit more worried this time. "Is it too late to back out now?"
"Yes," Daphne offered her an unfortunate smile. "Yes, it is."
"And remember, Granger," Tracey winked at her as they reclined her seat back, "The safewords' 'Gringotts'!"
Hermione sighed in response, accepting what was to come.
*X*X*X*
"—and that'll help clear your pores." Daphne displayed yet another wide-mouth glass jar to Hermione. This one was bright purple and had a wavy texture on its surface.
She then began slowly running three fingers, which were coated in a smooth balm, across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. Exposed to the cold air, the affected portions of her skin tingled from the minty cream.
"This one's 'Lady Lucy's Lovely Lengthy Lashes'! It'll— well, I'm sure ya can tell," Tracey informed as she dipped her index fingers and thumbs into a pink and purple solution that was as viscous as honey. "Now close yer eyes, Granger. It'll only take a minute or two to work its magic."
Hermione had been doing her best to note down everything the two had been displaying as they applied it to her.
And it was quite a monumental effort given the amount of products they were demonstrating. Thankfully, her fantastic memory and well-honed note-taking skills were coming in handy.
A minute later Hermione felt a warm, moist towel wiping away the gooeyness on her eyes. They left it to rest on her face, allowing the warmth to permeate into her face. Eyes still shut, Hermione sighed in relaxation, her skin feeling incredibly refreshed after all the products they had previously put on her.
This spa day was beginning to feel amazing.
"This one will make your skin as supple as a newborn's," she heard Daphne say as yet another balm was gently smeared onto her exposed neck and arms, "It'll also give you a nice, healthy glow—"
"—And this one will really put the hair on ya chest!"
The image of a feline Hermione popped into her mind again — and, towel still on her face, Hermione nearly lunged out of her seat.
She was stopped by one of Daphne's arms lightly pressing her back down. Then, she heard Daphne's other arm slapping Tracey for scaring her again.
"Bloody— Ow! I was joking!" Tracey whined, "I'm sorry!"
Behind the towel, Hermione couldn't help but feel relieved that she wasn't about to turn into a human-cat hybrid again. Instead, she snickered at Tracey's punishment.
*X*X*X*
With Hermione now fully reclined, the Slytherins worked in tandem, rubbing a combination of Flowfern oil and 'Smoothbeard's Silky Serum (Merlin Approved!)' into her hair, which had been sectioned off into neat, manageable bundles. After further use and prolonged care, the mixture would help combat and soften her frizzy, bushy hair, eventually allowing it to turn into lovely curls.
"—they're just like trains on tracks, you see. And the tracks go around in loops and circles." She motioned with her hands, drawing it out with her fingers.
"...so how do these Muggles stay seated on these 'coasters'?"
"You'd normally be strapped in, so it's not as dangerous as you'd think." Hermione smiled at how baffled Daphne sounded over Muggle roller coasters. She was sure she'd been much the same when she'd stepped into the world of magic.
"And ya say they go as fast as brooms do?"
Hermione figured that was just about the only thing Tracey cared for. "Just about, I suppose?"
"Hmmm… but it sounds a bit boring if yer not the one steering, ain't it?"
"I suppose the fun's in the fact that you're not in control. You're just there for the ride, and you can have lots of your friends join you, and they even take pictures of you during the exciting parts too." Hermione explained, before looking rather chagrined. "Or, at least I think that's what happens. I haven't actually gotten the chance to ride on one."
"Perfect! If it's meant to be enjoyed with friends, then we can go and try it out for the first time together."
Hearing Daphne's enthusiasm gave Hermione a warm feeling in her chest.
"Alright, fine. Ya got me intrigued too, Granger," Tracey nodded thoughtfully. She paused in lathering up Hermione's soapy hair to look at Daphne. "We should visit one of these Muggle carnival things, Daph. Granger can take us around and show us how to be proper Muggles."
Daphne nodded in agreement. They had been told that these coasters could fit two or more people side by side.
Perhaps while riding one of these things, she could pretend to be scared and cling to Harry 'for dear life'.
…That was an idea she would be setting aside for the future.
"There's plenty of them around Britain, I think especially around the summertime."
"What else can you do there, Hermione? You mentioned ranged Muggle weapons being used on ducks. Why on Earth would they do that?"
"Neither the guns nor the ducks are real, you see…"
*X*X*X*
By the time they were done with her hair, the Slytherins had learnt a bit more about a tiny fraction of Muggle culture.
Hermione had her eyes shut for the rest of the session, still educating her peers while they helped clean her up. And after a nice wash and dry with the help of their wands, she felt very different.
"Wow, Granger…" she heard Tracey mutter, "You were cute before, but now… She's starting to look like a sight for sore eyes, eh, Daph?"
"She is," Daphne agreed as Tracey helped raise her chair back up into a seated position.
Hermione had a little difficulty believing that a single session had changed that much about her. But then again, they did apply a whole apothecary's worth of cosmetics onto her. For all she knew, she could have someone else's face on hers now.
"Alright, Hermione. Take a look and tell us what you see."
Hermione slowly cracked her eyes open, and upon finally seeing her reflection, she could scarcely recognise herself.
To the average person perhaps the outward effects of their first makeover hadn't been that noticeable, but being as critical as she was of herself, Hermione could see the differences from before.
Gingerly, she reached her hands up to her face and felt herself.
Touching her cheeks, she noticed their newfound softness. The bags under her eyes had lightened, and her lashes were lengthier. It all helped make her eyes appear fuller and much more lively than before.
Gone was the sickly pale tinge from the endless nights she'd spent being buried in books by candlelight, now replaced by a much healthier flush of colour. It was as though she had finally given up on the late nights and had finally prioritised her sleep instead.
Her hair, just as Daphne said, had also been softened and loosened up, now settling into a brand new state of lovely curls. They were still stubbornly bushy in some parts, but all the other improvements were outshining them. Even with her mouth agape in awe, the self-conscious girl was barely even paying any attention to the tips of her large teeth, which still stuck just past her lips.
It was…She was… pretty!
And never in her life had Hermione ever felt so. The word was so foreign to her that even referring to herself as such felt wrong.
Yet, she couldn't deny that the gorgeous girl staring back was undoubtedly… her!
"Gorgeous, ain't ya?" asked Tracey as she kneeled, perching her chin onto Hermione's shoulder. Daphne did the same on the other shoulder. "Now you've got the brains and the beauty. Maybe ya can go to Potter next to get some of his brawn."
Hermione was choking on a response, still finding it hard to believe that was really her in the reflection. Big brown eyes darted between the two reflections of her friends as if silently asking them if this was all real.
Daphne smiled, gently stroking Hermione's hair now.
"Yes, that's very much you, Hermione," Daphne said reassuringly, "It's like I said. All it took was just a bit of effort. Do you see what I see now?"
"...Yes," came the warbled reply. She felt utterly indebted to them. Yet to the two Slytherins, they were simply doing as much because it was what dear friends would do for each other.
The tears she had been struggling to hold back finally spilled, and she got out of her seat to embrace her friends, both of whom reciprocated happily.
Hermione was experiencing a new depth of love and support, one that Harry and Ron could never quite provide as boys. It was a sense of belonging that a girl could only feel with other girls.
The three girls shared a big hug while Hermione softly cried happy tears in their arms.
Tracey was giggling, whispering sweet compliments to Hermione whilst wiping away tears as they rolled down her face. Daphne was supplying her friend's back with tender caresses, gently shushing Hermione's small sobs.
There was no need to cry. After all, she'd taken the first steps into a change in lifestyle she felt she sorely needed.
*O*O*O*
After that first makeover, the girls had four other sessions sporadically sprinkled throughout the remainder of two weeks days. Each session would see further subtle improvements in Hermione's features.
Harry and Neville had complimented her recent changes too, much to her initial embarrassment. It felt weird that she was finally being noticed, even if by friends.
Ron and the rest of the boys in their class had also started to notice the changes as well, which explained Krum's growing interest in her. Even still, he respectfully kept a seat's worth of distance between them.
But where he was once content with sitting in his seat, back straight and arms crossed over his chest — nowadays, he had his arms resting on the table, leaning in whenever he and Hermione quietly conversed.
Daphne hadn't been too sure if Hermione had caught on to Krum's growing enamour, but her behaviour remained unchanged during this time. Whether it was because she was far too caught up in discussions, or that she wasn't aware of what her subtle improvements were doing to Krum, the bookworm treated him no differently than before.
She'd even asked Tracey to dial back the teasing. Daphne feared any changes might potentially scare Krum off, and believed it was for the best that Hermione stayed clueless.
With Hermione and Daphne's presence, Viktor felt like a normal student. The fact that she barely even brought up Quidditch around him despite supposedly being a 'big fan' was something he appreciated too.
All in all, the Chimaeras were growing closer and closer together with their respective friends.
But, on the opposite end of the spectrum, the silence between Harry and Ron continued to persist much to Hermione's annoyance. But there was little to be done on that front when neither of the bullheaded boys were willing to relent on their positions regarding the matter that had formed the rift between them.
Ron still believed Harry was lying to a degree, and Harry still believed Ron was putting his name's worth in the word 'moron'.
And today's Double Potions class was supposed to be no different.
…save for the introduction of a rather obnoxious badge that seemed to have spread across the school like a plague.
*O*O*O*O
'POTTER STINKS'
The two words were emblazoned onto every single badge.
It was practically impossible to escape, with the text even glowing in the darkness of the dimly lit dungeon.
Malfoy was leaning himself against one of the many polished suits of armour that lined the walls. He had a nasty look of pride in his eye, his smirk even more greasy than usual as he soaked in the laughter of the howling Slytherins around him, all at Harry's expense.
The only ones who didn't sport a badge or find their housemates' antics too hilarious were a few others, as well as Tracey and Daphne. They were all far away from the rest of their peers at the back of the line.
Daphne had that barely concealed look in her eyes that implied she was ready to choke the life out of anyone who was proudly flashing that badge. Tracey held onto her hand tightly, doing her best to keep her in check.
The last thing the Chimaeras needed was for Daphne to blow her lid and start strangling her Housemates, exposing the secret they'd been keeping. And if the other Slytherins found out now, there was no telling what they'd try to do to Daphne to mess with Harry.
After Harry proved himself in front of everyone, hopefully in spectacular fashion, he'd deter any idiot previously keen on trying anything.
For now, the bespectacled boy stared, entirely unamused at the display presented to him.
It was disappointing. They lacked the refined, cunning aspects of Slytherin he admired in his girlfriend, instead resembling a cowardly, snivelling pack of hyenas.
"First the brooms, now badges? Wasting more of your daddy's money, Malfoy?"
"I'll have you know I made them myself," sneered Draco, "Want one? They're selling out quickly. Hardly have the time to keep up with the demand."
Ouch. Even as aware as he was of his diminishing reputation, Harry had to admit that hearing that did sting a little. Knowing that students were going to the biggest bully in the school and buying these badges partially to spite him was not a fun thing to know.
"Go on, Potter, you were just about to tell us whether you liked them." It was a bit silly seeing Draco act with such insolence to someone who obviously outmatched him physically. But that had never stopped him before. And if there was one thing Draco Malfoy was at least good at, it was using his hateful words to get under people's skin.
Hermione marched up to Harry's side, with Neville in tow.
"Don't engage with him anymore, Harry. Malfoy's got about as much wit as his lousy badges do." She cast a stern look at the slimy blond, while Neville did his best to look as brave as he could with all those eyes on them.
Harry spared them an appreciative look but still glanced behind him. Much to his disappointment, none of the other Gryffindors were keen on standing up for him. Even Ron was standing off to the side with Seamus and Dean, watching intently as his friends faced down their longstanding rivals.
They were more interested in seeing what their champion would do in the face of such blatant disrespect.
Likely something violent, they hoped.
"Longbottom? And who is… oh, Granger!" Malfoy pretended to be surprised, "Hardly recognised you with your new look. I must say it is a marginal improvement from before. Must have been quite the task getting all that Muggle ugliness off your face… but you missed a spot." Then he rudely gestured to his entire face, and Pansy Parkinson and the gang of girls around her ate it up, howling uncontrollably.
Hermione was filled with infuriation. Not only was he insulting her, but the effort her friends had put into helping her. The memory of slapping Malfoy in their prior year popped into her mind, but she held her tongue and stilled her hand. She was not going to stoop to his level, especially not in front of all the other students.
Seeing that she hadn't taken the bait, Draco's scowl turned downright hateful. "Feh! Change your looks all you want, you'll never rid yourself of your Mudblood muck, Granger."
Neville's fists were balled. He stepped forward with an unfamiliar frown on his face. "Don't you call her that!"
Students from both houses were shocked at his outburst. Only Crabbe and Goyle seemed unimpressed.
Draco took in the sight for a second longer. Then he pushed himself off the suit of armour, rattling it loudly. His shadows danced as about as he took a few steps forward menacingly and gave Neville a derisive scoff. "Finally standing up for something, Longbottom? Only took you four years to find your spine."
All the insults being hurled the way of the three Gryffindors were simply raising the fervour on the side of the Slytherins, whose roaring hoots and taunting laughter were now echoing down the corridors.
Now even Tracey looked like she was about to snap at the insults cast by Draco, but a glance from Hermione stopped both girls in their tracks.
He isn't worth the trouble.
They got the message but were still clearly incensed.
As much as Harry had tried to keep his emotions in check, all that mocking laughter was wearing down on his nerves. He clenched his jaw, pursing his lips tightly.
Harry desperately wanted to shut them all up.
Noticing this, Malfoy persisted in sending more their way, desperately wanting to see them crack in front of a crowd.
"A dull, dirty Mudblood, a cheating, lying orphan, and a spineless Pureblood coward!" Draco threw his head back, joining his cohort in the noise-making, "I'm even starting to miss Weasley now!"
"He has nothing to do with this," Harry spared a tentative look at Ron, before looking back at Malfoy. "Now stuff it, Malfoy or I'll…"
He thought back to the time he'd spent with the Dursleys before his third year.
He thought about how Aunt Marge disparaged every aspect of his existence while his extended family laughed along with her.
He thought about how satisfying it'd been to see all their faces after he'd (accidentally) hexed her.
It was what she deserved, after all.
And there hadn't been any consequences for blowing her up like a balloon then.
But there would be consequences now.
"Or you'll what, Potter?" It was clear that Malfoy could sense Harry's waning patience now. He eagerly pounced on it, plunging the knife deeper. "Going to run off and cry to mummy? Oh wait… you're going to have to dig her up first!'
That had left the Gryffindors gasping in shock. While Malfoy's loyal supporters found this to be a real riot, even some of the Slytherins who had been laughing up until now were starting to look uncomfortable at the extremely graceless joke. It felt like Draco had gone a little too far. And that much was evident by the stormy look in Harry's narrowed eyes.
The Chimaeras looked horrified, while Daphne looked downright murderous, her lips pulled back and her teeth bared. Thankfully, she was out of sight as Tracey purposefully stepped in front of her to hide her unmistakably hostile expression.
Harry's fingers twitched as he struggled to fight off the natural urge to just walk up and sock Malfoy in the chin.
It would be so satisfying to see that same shocked look on his face after he'd been deservingly dropped onto his arse.
Maybe he'd even knock a few of his teeth loose.
Maybe he'd even accidentally bite off that horrible tongue.
Maybe he'd even fall over, crack his head and—!
…but there would be consequences now.
And just when he felt his fury start to boil over, he suddenly remembered the face of the adorable little Slytherin who had been toiling away, trying to mend relations between their houses. He was reminded of how she had been courteous even with the 'rude little boys lacking in basic manners'.
He felt his friends' hands on his back and glanced between them, then finally at Daphne. Now she looked just as hurt as she was angry. She knew being able to physically hurt Malfoy wasn't going to take back that sickening slight to her boyfriend.
That was right. It wouldn't. Hurting Draco would only hurt relations between himself and the rest of the Slytherins. It'd affect Astoria's work and Harry's status dating one of them. Furthering the fire between their houses would be exactly what Draco wanted.
And just like that, Harry quenched what was left of his anger. It wasn't easy, but he did it for their sakes.
He had to be the bigger man.
Draco snorted at the resolute look on Harry's face. "Finally going to do something, Potter?"
Harry took a deep breath, and then another, before gathering some of his thoughts. Then, he met Draco head-on with as much indifference as he could muster.
"...You know, I would've." His tone was that of a calm, disappointed father speaking to his unruly child. "But you're just not worth the punishment."
"What?"
"I mean, look at you. You're spewing all this hateful nonsense, obviously trying to goad me into attacking you." Harry shrugged, shaking his head, "But it turns out you're just… not worth it. Not when there's so much more at stake."
Everyone besides the Chimaeras was oblivious to the truth behind Harry's words.
"What are you talking—"
"Face it. You're insignificant. The only thing you're worth is your father's name, Draco."
Harry made it a personal point to call him by his first name. There was power in names after all.
"And everywhere you go, deep down inside, you'll always wonder if anyone ever truly likes 'Draco', and not your surname. Would anyone even like you if you weren't a 'Malfoy'? Hell, four years in Hogwarts and do you even have anyone you can call a friend? I do. I've got a few, and you and I both know it's not because I'm a 'Potter'."
Harry nodded to the Slytherins with badges, whose energy had mostly deflated by now.
"No. These people, they're just lackeys to you. And they'll suck it up and put on their smarmiest smiles for you regardless because of your father. Who knows? Maybe this year they'll get the newest model of brooms as gifts again. Or maybe they'll get tickets to the next World Cup. Either way, it'll let you buy your way into yet another venture that you have neither the skill nor the merit for. And as soon as your influence dries up, they'll abandon you. But you already knew that, didn't you?"
You could probably hear a pin drop the way no one was smiling or laughing anymore.
But Harry wasn't finished just yet.
"…So no, Draco. I'm not going to do anything to you. As you are now, you don't amount to anything in your life — so why the Hell would I let your insubstantial existence affect mine."
Malfoy had insulted Harry and his friends to a severe degree, but Harry had returned the favour by ruthlessly cutting him down to size in front of everyone. The fact that there were some kernels of truth in there likely made the cuts feel deeper too.
And now, all eyes were expectantly on Draco, waiting for his response. He only just stood and stared, wide-eyed at Harry. What was going through his head, Harry would never know, but seeing Draco frozen in place told him that the unpleasant encounter was practically over.
Harry turned his back to him and walked away. He headed to the class entrance with Hermione and Neville, both visibly satisfied with the outcome.
The students were murmuring now, some of the Gryffindors even snickering openly at the look on Draco's face. The Slytherins were awkwardly shuffling around, unsure of what to do or say after Harry's very long speech to their leader.
Thoughts bounced about on the inside of Draco's mind.
The fact that Harry's friends had backed him up in the face of a slew of degrading insults and a dozen Slytherins… that none of the Slytherins had stood up for Draco after Harry's speech… that Harry Potter had treated him as if he didn't matter… that there was truth in Harry's words, proven by their lack of action…
And it was clear that it had all made Draco very, very upset.
Unfortunately, even in the dim light, the other students could see the blood rushing to his face, turning his pale features a deep crimson. At that moment, he forgot all about the Pureblood training his father had tried to impart to him over the years and gave in to his anger — consequences be damned!
If Harry Potter was going to be a coward by avoiding confrontation, then Draco would teach him a valuable lesson in making the mistake of not raising his wand!
Consumed by his lack of self-control, Draco's lapse in judgement had him recklessly brandishing his wand at Harry's back.
Daphne, Tracey and the students around him didn't even have the time to cry out in surprise, let alone warn Harry.
But, Harry's years of getting into mischief and trouble had sharpened his instincts well. He felt the hair on his neck tingle, and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy's distorted reflection moving in the breastplate of the nearest suit of armour.
Harry didn't even think twice, immediately ducking.
At the same time, Malfoy completed his wand's motions and shouted.
"Densaugeo!"
A jet of violet light harmlessly passed through where Harry had been. It ricocheted off the suit of armour in front of Harry and bounced back towards them, unfortunately striking Hermione right in the face. She fell backwards, whimpering and clutching at her mouth as the hex wasted no time in affecting her.
"Hermione!" Multiple voices cried out. Harry, Neville, and Ron rushed to her aid.
Neville gently coaxed her hand away from her face, and the boys winced at the sight of her front teeth lengthening to alarming proportions. Hermione felt them brush past her chin and she shrieked.
Even if the spell had missed its intended target, Malfoy still grinned wickedly. He was about to share some more nasty comments at Hermione's expense when—
"MAL—FUHY!"
—the words up and died in his throat at the sound of Tracey Davis' thunderous cry.
Heads turned at her voice and, from Draco's face, it was clear he hadn't been expecting that sort of response from a Slytherin of all people. The bright colour in his cheeks drained at the sight of the raging Scot shoving the other students out of her way to get to him.
"I'LL KILL YA, YA FUH—CKIN' RAT!" snarled Tracey, her accent more pronounced than ever, "I'LL HAVE YER GUTS FER GARTERS!"
Whipping out her wand, the brunette turned it on her Housemate without hesitation.
But she was too late.
"Depulso!"
A spell had already been unleashed in retaliation.
Except, it hadn't been Malfoy who had cast the spell.
Instead, it'd come from the other end of the hallway… out of Harry Potter's wand and directed at Malfoy's back.
A bright white light emanated from one end of the dark corridor, blinding the students momentarily. Shadows stretched wildly as the few torches adorned on the walls flickered, wavering from the accompanying gust of wind that blew down the passageways with a loud whoosh. The only sound they could reasonably make out over the whipping winds was of metal crashing into the ground.
By the time the dust had settled and students could see again, they were greeted with quite the sight.
A few meters from where he had previously been standing, Draco Malfoy now lay in a heap, sprawled atop the suit of armour he'd been leaning on earlier. His slicked-back hair was dishevelled and spiked up in all directions from the force of the spell.
Through half-lidded eyes, Draco was softly groaning — likely from the large bump on his forehead. It had formed from his collision with the armour… or the wall. It was hard to tell amidst all that chaos.
No one moved. They were stunned at the escalating situation at hand, as well as Harry's prominent display of power.
Crabbe and Goyle stared at Harry, then down at Malfoy's unmoving form, then back at Harry again.
Then the two thugs scrambled to get to the wands in their robes.
Goyle managed to draw his wand first, only to have it promptly flicked out of his bumbling hands from Harry's Expelliarmus. He glanced at his empty hand in surprise while his wand clattered behind him onto the cold stone. Half a second later, his knees were forcefully brought together and bound by a Leg-Locker curse. It knocked him off balance and sent him careening onto the floor. His large chin bounced off the ground with a loud thud, eliciting a grimace from the crowd.
Harry turned his wand towards Crabbe, whose hands were still stuck in his robes, now frozen in fear.
"Don't," warned Harry.
Crabbe limply dropped his empty hands to his sides in surrender.
Harry let his wand linger in the air for a moment longer before dropping it. He was about to slip it back into his robes and check on Hermione again when Professor Snape finally arrived, striding over towards the students.
Based on his pace, he had heard the scuffle.
And based on his face…
Well, that part was rather self-explanatory.
"What is going on here?" hissed Professor Snape as he observed the mess with narrowed eyes.
Harry was about to defend himself, but Daphne spoke up on his behalf, or at least before any of the other Slytherins could twist the story in Malfoy's favour. "Malfoy attacked Potter while his back was turned, Professor. He missed and struck Granger instead."
The man swept past the students like a spectre and moved to check on Draco. He spoke as he checked his student's vitals, "And what, pray tell, happened to Malfoy..." Then he glanced at Goyle, "...and Goyle."
This time, Tracey responded, her wand already stowed back into her pockets.
"Malfoy said some nasty things, Professor. Really nasty things about Potter's mom." A hardened look appeared in the man's eyes, but he said nothing. "Potter didn't want to fight, so Malfoy got pissy, then attacked him. Potter just defended himself afterwards."
Pansy opened her mouth, seemingly to jump to Draco's defence, but the withering glares she received from Daphne and Tracey silenced her. She physically shirked back behind the safety of the other badge-wearing Slytherins, terrified of her bunkmates.
Seeing that the two boys' injuries weren't critical, Snape undid the curse around Goyle's legs and looked directly at Crabbe.
"Help them to the hospital wing, Crabbe."
Crabbe complied, assisting a shaky Goyle up first. The injured boy put a hand around his chin, before helping Crabbe to support Draco's weight over both of their shoulders.
While they struggled to leave, Ron cried out indignantly, still kneeling next to his friend.
"And what about Hermione?!" he gestured to her. She looked as if someone had glued tusks in her mouth
Snape's response was cold and uncaring. "I see no difference."
Hermione's eyes were quickly filled with tears, and the boys (Neville included) were moments away from giving the professor a very loud (and vulgar) piece of their minds.
Before any shouting could happen, Daphne and Tracey stomped over — much to everyone's surprise.
"Careful, Granger." Daphne took off her robe and carefully draped it over Hermione's head, wrapping the lower half of her face and shielding it from sight. "Come on. We'll take you to Madam Pomfrey and get that fixed up."
Gingerly, she assisted Hermione up to her feet and began to escort her away to the infirmary. Tracey walked in step with them protectively like a bodyguard.
They passed by Snape once more, regarding him long enough for Daphne to say a few choice words at him—
"You despicable, despicable man."
—and then she was off without a care for her Head of Houses' response, a supportive arm around Hermione's shoulders.
Tracey followed, sticking her tongue out at the glowering man.
"Bleh!"
Snape was not amused but said nothing in response.
They all watched as the girls blew past the limp Malfoy, who was still slung between an injured Goyle and a huffing, puffing Crabbe. Tracey lingered behind only for a moment to deliver a swift, powerful kick to Malfoy's shin.
The boy groaned a little louder, his eyes now shut.
Then they were gone. Harry cracked a smile at that, sighing in relief that the girls seemed fine.
Even Ron was thankful that Hermione had received support from others, even if they were Slytherins.
Apart from the Chimaeras, most of the students were left puzzled as to why the two Slytherins had assisted Hermione today — including Tracey's explosive reaction and their responses to Snape's indifference.
Ultimately, it was presumed that their actions were driven by concern for Hermione as a 'girl', rather than as a 'Gryffindor'. After all, giving Malfoy and Snape the green light to disfigure girls and mock them afterwards would be setting a new low for Slytherins as a whole.
And while Snape had deducted points from both houses for a variety of reasons, somehow they'd all gotten out of this encounter without any detention.
*O*O*O*
Missing a good fraction of his students to the infirmary, Snape had all but postponed today's lesson. Instead, he'd tasked the students to work on simple dissections.
He was so disinterested in today's lessons that he hadn't even put up too much of a fight when Colin Creevey had come by to collect Harry for the Wand Weighing Ceremony.
The journey there had been uneventful, so the two had made conversation. Colin had shared that he placed a bet on him, much to Harry's chagrin. It was one more reason not to let another person in his corner down.
Then Harry inquired about Colin's camera, expressing his interest in obtaining one through him. And, although Colin was enthusiastic about helping his idol, he regretfully explained that it wouldn't be possible until after the summer holidays. Harry thanked him nonetheless, thankful that he had at least planned on other gift options for Daphne.
Eventually, they reached the room and Colin wished him well. Harry thanked him, took a deep breath, and entered.
*O*O*O*
By the time the trio of Slytherin boys had dragged themselves to the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey had already started to help Hermione shrink her teeth.
Tracey held a mirror up for Hermione to see the process, while Daphne stood next to it, observing silently.
"I'll be with you boys shortly. A bit of pain ought to teach you a lesson on hexing girls for no good reason!" Madam Pomfrey harrumphed loudly, her attention still focused on gently retracting the girl's teeth. "Now, just tell me when to stop, Ms Granger."
It was a delicate process and required a steady hand. Unable to speak, Hermione gave her a thumbs up.
As her teeth reverted close back to their usual length, Hermione was about to signal the healer to stop when she suddenly recalled her conversation with Daphne about Madam Pomfrey fixing them.
This seemed like the perfect chance for that to happen.
Besides her parents being a bit peeved, there wasn't any harm, right? Plus it'd be way more efficient than using braces! So, she allowed Madam Pomfrey to adjust her front teeth till they fell neatly into place with the others before stopping her.
"There, all done… Now, if you'll excuse me, ladies." The healer headed off to tend to the three boys, two of whom were slumped onto the beds. Crabbe sat on the edge of the bed Goyle was lying in, trying to catch his breath.
Hermione made a wide smile in the mirror. Her teeth were all neatly aligned now, a picture-perfect definition of a smile.
"Fixed your teeth did you?" asked Daphne, noticing that they were smaller than before.
"I thought it was a good opportunity," said Hermione with a slightly mischievous look in her eyes.
"It was. Look at you now, Hermione," said Daphne endearingly. "You've earned yourself a confident, beautiful smile too."
"I'll miss those chompers." Tracey said with a sigh, setting the mirror down onto her legs, "But I'm hoping we can see more of that pretty smile from now onwards, Granger."
"Thanks, you two. For the help too." Hermione looked a little bashful, tucking some of her curled locks behind her ear, "You were terrifying when you were shouting at Malfoy. He looked horrified when you were approaching him."
"Don't embarrass me, Granger. I just… lost my temper when I saw him hex someone that I…" Tracey scratched the back of her head, suddenly finding her gaze inexplicably glued to the ceiling.
"Someone that you…?" prodded Hermione, who noticed that Daphne was giving Tracey a wry smile.
"Ugh, do I have ta' spell it out for ya, Granger…? You're someone that I care about, duh!" The girl in question blushed a little before clearing her throat. "Besides… the only Slytherin that I'll let hex you and get away with it is me."
Hermione smiled tenderly at Tracey's protective side. Even if the earlier events had been rather unpleasant and humiliating, she had been touched knowing that all her friends had come to her aid at a moment's notice.
Daphne regarded her too, albeit a tad melancholic. "As a Slytherin, I'm sorry for everything that happened with Malfoy and Snape. It was absolutely cruel."
"It… hurt," admitted Hermione before chuckling. "But I think Malfoy got the shorter end of that exchange, so I won't be losing too much sleep over it."
Daphne thought so too. Had Harry's Depulso been any stronger, it would've blown Malfoy's inflated head right off. The way he had also quickly and effortlessly dispatched Goyle showed just how far he'd come with his training. She was both proud and impressed at the way he'd handled Malfoy and his thugs, with the appropriate amount of force and restraint.
As Madam Pomfrey headed off to the office to collect supplies to deal with the concussions the two boys had, Crabbe eyed the trio of girls across the room suspiciously.
He grumbled loudly. "Why the Hell did you two help that bloody Mudblood?"
"Tch!" Daphne didn't even respect Crabbe enough to look over at him and had simply crossed her arms over her chest, clicking her tongue loudly in irritation.
Crabbe flinched at her response.
Angering the 'Ice Queen' was never on any Slytherin's list of things to do (besides Malfoy's). There were consequences for such.
And, as if to prove this point, her 'loyal soldier' scoffed.
"Ya honestly didn't learn anything today did ya, ya knuckle-draggin' plonker?" She raised her wand at him and didn't even bother waiting for a response. "Impedimenta."
The spell struck. Crabbe's face slowed to a crawl. His lips flapped slowly and his speech was about as slurred as it was slowed. He looked and sounded as if an invisible, viscous liquid had engulfed him.
"Oh, for the love of—!" Madam Pomfrey huffed, rushing over to help Crabbe, "Ms Davis, please refrain from hexing other students while they're in the infirmary. I might not be so kind as to turn a blind eye next time."
Travey gave the woman an apologetic smile before ambling off with her friends.
*O*O*O*
Harry was quickly welcomed into the room by the other champions.
Cedric, as ever, had been friendly, even apologising for Draco's new badges which had spread around the school. It was clear the older teen was rather mortified that his name was being included on an item that disparaged his friend and fellow competitor.
Fleur had also been polite as well, giving Harry a friendly smile and wave. She was as pretty as ever, but not nearly anywhere close to Daphne's beauty in Harry's eyes.
Krum, still unfamiliar with Harry, gave him a curt nod from where he was leaning against the wall. Harry was excited and surprised at this acknowledgement but managed a nod of back. Hermione had likely brought up the topic of her best friend to the Bulgarian during their impromptu book club sessions.
Ludo Bagman approached Harry soon after he'd entered, giving his usual adulation to Harry. It was the sort of flattery that had likely earned him his spot in the ministry.
Bagman explained what they were waiting for before introducing Harry to a woman in a gaudy outfit, who sauntered over. She had on a set of eye-catching magenta robes, rhinestone-studded spectacled, and clutched in those long, crimson nails was a crocodile-skin purse. He introduced her to Harry as Rita Skeeter.
Harry didn't recognise the woman's face, but her name sounded familiar.
And not the 'good' kind of familiar.
There was something about her he didn't quite like either. Whether it was that simpering look in her eye, or simply the slimy aura she was exuding, all he knew was that he got the feeling that he shouldn't trust her one bit.
If Harry had to place it, he'd say she gave him the same impression as a liar.
"...she's a reporter from the Daily Prophet. And her cameraman, of course."
That certainly answered things. He remembered articles written by her being read aloud by… Hermione? Or had it been Tracey?
In any case, he recalled her unflattering articles about Mr Weasley and Professor Moody. There was also the generally lacklustre journalism and fear-mongering drivel that the Prophet had spewed last year about his Godfather — information regurgitated from a ministry that hadn't even bothered to give the innocent man a proper trial. It had understandably left him with a bad impression of both institutions.
Still, trying to be respectful, Harry greeted her with a polite nod.
"Hello, Mrs Skeeter."
"Why hello, Harry!" The garish woman moved in close to Harry, to the point where he felt the need to take a step back. "And —ahem— it's Miss — Skeeter!"
For some reason, Harry found it unsurprising that she was unmarried. He waited for her to follow that statement up with something, anything — but she let it linger, allowing the detail to sink in for everyone present.
Harry glanced awkwardly over her shoulders to Bagman and her cameraman. Both just looked awkwardly back at him.
"...I digress. I've been wanting to meet you for quite a while now. Say, Ludo, you wouldn't mind if I took Harry aside for a quick word?"
Alarm bells sounded in his head. At first, he didn't like the way she dressed. Now, her sugary tone and forceful nature certainly were subtracting even more points from her in Harry's book. The fact that she hadn't even asked him directly irked Harry too.
"I don't see any problems with that," said Bagman before turning to Harry. "That's if Harry has no objections?"
The teen nearly snorted. He didn't even want to give the sketchy woman a chance to twist his words.
"Actually… I'd rather not," said Harry.
He didn't even let them get a word in before he turned and walked away.
"Oh, but… Harry!" He heard Rita's heels clacking as she desperately chased after him, "It'll only take a minute! We can even go somewhere quiet! Why that broom closet looks positively—"
Turning on his heel, he faced her once more. The woman screeched to a halt before she could crash into him, stumbling in her heels. Cedric hid his snickering poorly behind his arm.
"No — really," Harry insisted, a little firmer this time, "I'm not interested."
And with that said, he turned once more and headed over to where Cedric was seated, leaving a frustrated Rita Skeeter behind.
*O*O*O*
"...do keep in mind that we will be checking to ensure that none of you will be bringing any additional magical items in, save for your wands, lest you face the possibility of a reduction in points." Ludo Bagman cleared his throat after he was done reading from the parchment of rules, nodding in satisfaction to himself.
Hearing that, Harry groaned. It made sense that they'd be checking them for such items.
He did note that Bagman had used the word 'magical'.
If he could bring it in under the guise of say… a 'good luck charm' or something akin to that, then all would be fine.
But now he needed to figure out how to keep the Portkey inactive in his pocket until after the task started. Having the person inspecting him be suddenly whisked away by his active Portkey after unravelling the magical wrapping paper would surely have him answering a lot of questions from the Ministry.
It seemed he still had a bit more work left for him.
*O*O*O*
The rest of the ceremony had gone smoothly.
Harry only had a brief scare where he'd thought Mr Ollivander was going to share the secret of his wand's core with the room.
They'd gotten their photos taken as a group, with Rita trying desperately to get Harry to the front. But with his larger frame and added mass, it had been a futile effort to try and physically strong-arm him. She'd given up after a few moments of awkwardly trying to tug his arm while everyone else stared curiously at her.
When she suggested each champion get their photos taken individually, Harry decided to make himself scarce.
After muttering a quick excuse that he had 'to go feed his owl', he departed the room, bidding his fellow champions goodbye while unmistakably ignoring Rita.
Dinner was spent in the Clubhouse, with the fine company of the Chimaeras. As they ate, Harry detailed what had happened to the rest of the Chimaeras.
"...and then she tried to get me into a broom closet with her—"
"She what?!" Daphne's outburst had her slamming her hands on the table. The other Chimaeras jumped in their seats.
Harry looked aghast, realising how bad it sounded. "Not like that, Daphne!"
"I… I knew that…" muttered Daphne as she settled back down. Hermione and Tracey were openly giggling at her overreaction. "Still! It's not right! The nerve of that woman…"
"Don't worry. She won't get the chance to do anything." Harry pecked her on the cheek, placating his pouting girlfriend. "Truthfully, the whole experience was probably more painful for her than it was for me."
"Yeah, Daph. Potter's only got eyes for you." The kissy face Tracey made caused Neville to avert his eyes.
"It's practically impossible for Harry to look at any other girl," said Hermione with a shrug. She knew from personal experience.
"Like trying to draw water from a stone," added Neville.
"Krum, on the other hand…" said Tracey.
"Don't even get him started on that 'Wonky-Faint' thing," muttered Hermione.
"Wronski Feint," corrected a sour Harry to four very amused faces. Seeing their faces, Harry held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, fine! Point proven." The Chimaeras laughed at his sheepish expression.
Discussions moved on to Harry seeking out advice for a way to render the Portkey he'd be taking with him inert, at least until he made it past the inspections.
"I'm sure we could find a way. There're a few methods I already have in mind!" Hermione was chipper, excited at the idea of getting to find a solution to Harry's new roadblock.
"Thank you, Hermione. Your help would speed things along."
"It's the least I could do after the way you handled Malfoy, Harry."
"Brilliant work, by the way, Harry!" Neville nodded, "Especially the way you took down Goyle after. I didn't even notice you moving!"
"It was quite the display," Daphne said, "must have felt good to see the fruits of your labour."
"It did. But I wish things could've ended without the need for all that."
Daphne lay a warm hand atop his. "As difficult as it was, you did the right thing walking away, Harry. Don't blame yourself for Malfoy's actions after."
"Ya could've at least let me hex him once before ya blasted him away, Potter." Tracey made some wand gestures with her index finger that Harry recognised as a Diffindo. "Could've cut off that bloody tongue of his and let Crabbe have the luxury of carrying it with them to Madam Pomfrey."
Hermione made a repulsed face at the suggestion, while the image of someone, even if it was Draco Malfoy, getting their tongue severed off caused Neville to go white as a sheet.
Harry laughed at Tracey's choice of complaint. "He was on the floor then, Tracey. You could've just hexed him right there and then."
"He was practically unconscious at that point. That's no fun, is it?"
"You did kick him while he was down and out," Neville said pointedly.
"Oh — yes," she recalled with a laugh. "It was the least I could do."
The students finished up their dinner, with Hermione and Daphne making plans to meet up with Harry tomorrow to add the additional layer of security onto the Portkey.
*O*O*O*
Chapter 12: End
*O*O*O*
Important A/N:
Hello, all. Sorry for the abrupt ending.
I had actually written a bit more, but I decided to cut it short there and post this part first. Wanted to keep things a bit shorter for the consideration of my readers as I haven't updated in over a month.
I've already got most of the next chapter planned out and partially written, so hopefully I can get that one out soon.
Again, sorry I didn't write the first task in this chapter. I got a little carried away with all the extra scenes. I try to keep them short, but end up having fun and detailing them quite a bit more than I initially planned for.
This is just a heads-up that all the competitors in my fic will be struggling a bit more against their respective dragons. I likely won't be detailing their tasks, but I will be for Harry's. It's going to be more action-oriented (because I've been desperately wanting to write a bit of action recently), so hopefully you'll like that too.
Less Important A/N:
I had a lot of fun writing the makeover scene between Daphne, Hermione, and Tracey. As with the scene between Harry's self-control and indifference with the Slytherins and Rita Skeeter. Let me know what you think!
I'm sure you guys have seen Harry beat Draco's ass six ways to Sunday with how many hundreds of fics you've read. Just wanted a version where he got angry, but still managed to keep his composure thanks to the existence of the Chimaeras, compared to only having Hermione's companionship in canon.