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*
"Come, stop your crying, it'll be alright.
Just take my hand, hold it tight.
I will protect you from all around you,
I will be here, don't you cry."
*O*O*O*
It'd been two days since Harry and Daphne had made their relationship public.
Everyone, from students to professors, had been stunned when they saw Potter and Greengrass strolling down Hogwarts' halls, arm in arm.
*O*O*O*
Two days ago…
"...and I doubt Professor McGonagall would help with that," the few students in the hallway had heard her say to him, amusement tugging at the corners of her lips.
"You think she wouldn't teach her best student how to become an Animagus?"
She crinkled her nose slightly and gave him a funny look. "Curious. You look nothing like Hermione Granger."
"Okay, her 'favourite', then." Harry burst out laughing when she gave him another dubious look. "Hypothetically, I could see myself as a bird. Maybe an owl, or a hawk. What would you want to be if she did?"
"A cat, I think. She makes it look so convenient." Daphne chuckled at the thought before shooting a sly smile at him. She kept her voice low, whispering, "Plus, I'd get to spend all day lounging in your lap."
"Sticking to your strengths?" Harry's reply was instant, accompanied by a quick wink. "I won't complain. You're getting really good at that nowadays, even as a human."
"Oh, my G—!" Her voice dropped to a low hiss. "Not so loud, Harry! What happened to 'first impressions'?!" But even with the admonishing tone and her furrowed brows, Daphne still wore an embarrassed smile.
While she was happy to parade around with Harry, these sorts of jokes were bound to spread beyond the castle's walls fast. And Merlin only knew what her family would think once the news finally spread to them. Her parents did not need to know what sort of... activities she was getting up to with Harry in school.
After months of subtlety, Harry was feeling unabashedly bold.
"What's the problem? Their first impression of me should be how much I love you, Daph…!" he declared, before speaking even louder. Daphne quickly covered his mouth, but Harry continued to speak even as he was muzzled. "And yours being just how much you like sitting in my lap!"
The muffled statement left the passing students who understood it as red as Daphne. It was a staggering sight to see the cool, calm and collected Slytherin now so coy as she hung off of Harry's arm.
She palmed her face to hide her embarrassed smile and dug herself closer into his side — a futile effort to escape from both his teasing and the attention he was drawing to them.
"Please behave, you deviant," she begged, looking up at him with those pretty eyes of hers. Her eyelids fluttered, and Harry felt his heart twist in his chest. Even still, he remained strong.
"You first."
Notably, Daphne stared at him narrowly but kept her silence.
It was unclear whether it was done out of fear of further teasing, or because she did not want to oblige by her own standards. At the very least, this brief silence made it clear to them both of the veracity of Harry's earlier statement.
Lost in their flirting, the two paid no mind as they turned heads and dropped jaws.
*O*O*O*
It was almost like the first day they'd met when Harry had ferried her on his back through the school and earned all those curious stares. In hindsight, Harry's idea at the time to hide her face had been brilliant.
They still went about as if nothing had changed. Mostly because nothing had changed — to them, at least.
This time, even though neither of them made much of a spectacle out of crossing the school grounds together, it seemed everyone else did. Those who had seen them together during the first Hogsmeade felt vindicated, having strongly questioned their senses at the time on whether it had really been Daphne.
It was expected that the masses would be surprised given their roles and positions in the school. Dating between their houses in the last few decades was limited to just 'hypotheticals' thanks to the lasting influence of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, and doing so held the obvious implications of ostracization. So, it was no surprise had ever dared to try.
The sense of surprise was also shared about Daphne's 'new' outward personality. Those familiar with her reserved side felt a little disconcerted seeing her now; laughing, smiling, and hanging off Harry Potter's arm like… well, like she was some sort of schoolgirl.
It was then they were struck with the sobering reminder that she was, in fact, just an ordinary schoolgirl, and not the person they had made her out to be in their heads. It wasn't exactly an unwelcome change either as many students, both boys and girls, found this abrupt juxtaposition to be even more attractive.
Even though it'd been a calculated effort to gain as much goodwill as he could before going public, Harry was still a little surprised to find a large portion of the student body supporting their relationship. He overheard one Ravenclaw girl mention to another that it was 'only fitting that the school's Dragonslayer be the one to thaw out the Ice Queen's frozen heart'.
Regardless of how silly that sounded, he appreciated the poetic sentiment and the support.
Of course, not everyone had taken the news of their relationship so well…
*O*O*O*
Two days ago…
It'd been a day since Draco had made a fool of himself in public.
Having been dragged through and snuffed out in the metaphorical mud that was humility, his usual arrogance was dampened as he sat moodily by himself at breakfast.
For obvious reasons, he wasn't planning on making much of an appearance outside of classes today. A tiny modicum of shame would make him keep his head down for most of it, even going as far as sending Crabbe and Goyle away for the rest of the day to do whatever it was they did in their spare time.
As he chewed down on a slice of thinly-buttered bread, it was easy to tell he hadn't slept much the prior night, if at all. Distinct, dark bags hung under his harrowed grey eyes, which were warily scanning around the Hall.
But despite the drama of yesterday, this morning's crowd proved to be thankfully sparse. While he still received snide looks, it didn't seem to be any different than the usual spite he received from the bottom feeders of the school that he relentlessly terrorised.
Word of his 'slight overreaction' to Greengrass' rejection must have been treated as an overblown piece of gossip by most. After all, it was hard to believe that someone like him, a Malfoy, would make such a fool of himself… right?
Well, that opinion was irrelevant anyway! From today onward, Draco Malfoy was going to carry himself with the utmost esteem, befitting his House's nobility.
He could not afford to debase the Malfoy name any longer, lest his father find out. The consequences would not be pretty.
So, after a long, sleepless night of staring up into the canopy of his bed, the events of last evening replaying endlessly in his head, Draco had finally come to a realisation.
They said they were sick of hearing his family's name. Ha! He'd figured out their game. They didn't want him to weaponize what they feared most! All of their actions against him had all been motivated by fear — terrified that he'd bring the Malfoys' incomprehensible wrath upon them!
No! No more would he associate himself with those he deemed as common rabble. No longer would he get upset based on the words and actions of a few insignificant worms!
He was Draco Malfoy. And he was the one in control.
Satisfied with this rightful resolution, he took another bite of his bread. Feeling a bit more at ease, he let all the tension in his shoulders go and finally relaxed for the first time since he had retreated to his room.
As he let his eyes wander across the hall once more, he realised everyone's attention had been stolen. Some students were standing in their seats, others stopped in their tracks. But all had their focus directed towards the entrance of the Hall.
Turning his head to join them, Draco caught sight of them.
Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass, strolling arm-in-arm like… friends?!
Impossible. And yet, there was no denying it.
Greengrass' laughter echoed down the corridor, light and unguarded, while Potter wore a grin so infuriatingly carefree it made Draco's jaw tighten.
Since when did those two even speak? With those shifty eyes and conspiratorial smiles, just what were they plotting? Bah! Was she telling Potter all about how she had made a fool of him and threatened his credibility?!
…
…Wait.
As his brow slowly unknit itself, a horrible, creeping sense of dread travelled up from his stomach, to his spine. A wave of goosebumps followed, pimpling his skin and making the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"Because she already has a boyfriend," said the voice of that abominable girl.
The synapses finally connected the dots for him, and Draco's eyes went wide as he sharply inhaled in realisation.
"F—ACK!"
…only to choke violently as a mouthful of dry rye lodged itself in the back of his throat. All that rose from his clogged windpipe was the sound of soft croaking. Draco grabbed at his neck with one hand, while the other fumbled about clumsily, clattering his cutlery around.
With heavy discussion in the air and all eyes on the couple, no one paid Draco Malfoy any attention when he tumbled out of his seat in the back corner of the Hall. They didn't see him drop to his hands and knees either, and they certainly couldn't see when his lips slowly started to turn blue.
He briefly considered waving over a nearby student for help before his pride got in the way. After that grand monologue he gave himself, Draco could not live with the shame of begging for help.
…Though, if he didn't, he would not live to regret that decision for long…
Through the tears in his eyes, and between the legs of the grand tables and chairs, Draco could see the double-images of them. They were laughing — and even now, as he slowly choked to death, he was so spiteful that he couldn't help but fixate his frustrations around them irregardless of their involvement in his current plight.
Just what were they laughing at now? Was it him?
It must have been! What else was there for them to mock?
As a Slytherin, he had to admit their cruelty was commendable. Ridiculing him in his weakest moment was fitting of the Ice Queen. If it had been someone else in this position, he'd likely have a laugh too. After all, it'd been his exact plan to mock Potter just like this if he had gotten Greengrass as his own.
Alas, the cruel irony of fate meant he was in this position.
And if he didn't do something about it quickly, it'd be his last too.
Using what little strength he had left; Draco began pounding his chest repeatedly. Just as the edges of his vision started to go dark, he finally hammered himself hard enough to hack out a sopping mouthful of moist bread, now softened by his saliva.
Cold sweat dripped from his chin as his body was racked with ragged, desperate coughs. Still on his hands and knees, he gasped heavily once the coughing had stopped, heaving as he finally got to breathe again.
Even after a moment had passed, he didn't move. He stayed there on all fours, glaring at the wet splotches of spit on the floor. He punched the floor half-heartedly, and his unshed tears finally spilled.
How did things end up like this?
That was the only thought in his mind as his fingers gripped the stone, digging his nails into it until they hurt. Weakly — tiredly, Draco chewed on his lower lip as a wave of despair and failure washed over him.
Potter had faced down a goddamn dragon and came out the other side alive. Even worse, he'd emerged as a bloody hero! And thanks in part to Draco's unintentional efforts, he had a cool nickname to go with it too.
Here he was, with tears and spit running down his face thanks to a bit of baked flour. It hadn't been the fangs or the claws, or even face-melting fires, but bread.
Despair gripped him, and Draco could hear the jokes now.
Rye, too dry. Dead by bread.
Fuck. This was depressing.
"Damn you, Potter…" he spat, sadly. It was no longer clear if the tears now were the result of his close call, or from some other reason. But the notable bitterness in his voice overpowered all other emotions. "Damn you all to Hell…"
*O*O*O*
Finding out his greatest foe had already been dating the girl he was trying to court before nearly choking to death had left Draco feeling… emotional.
After a bit of 'not-shedding-his-tears' and a little 'not-indulging-in-self-pity', Draco found his resolve again — from under the table.
It was currently two - nil in Potter's favour. One for knocking him out, and another for besting him in getting a partner. Draco would acknowledge his loss this time, but he wasn't giving up. Not this easily. As he skulked away, he was determined to find another way to best Potter.
Perhaps it was time for him to finally pull out his years of Pureblood training and use it to make a fool of Potter's muggle heritage!
*O*O*O*
Their peers had grown increasingly fond of them over the next two days.
The pair radiated an aura so palpable it made the hearts of the lonely ache with longing, and other lovers' hands clasp just a bit tighter, inspiring them to love harder.
Practically inseparable during that time, they were spotted sitting at each other's tables during lessons and meals.
A few detractors floated the horrible idea that Harry had used a love potion on Daphne, hence her displays of uncharacteristic affection. Those lies were quickly quashed once news spread that they had been seeing each other in secret for quite some time now.
No one could pick apart their relationship. Whether it was a matter of fame, reputation, looks, or wealth, both brought plenty to the table.
They were simply in love. There was nothing more complicated about that.
They showed as much when they attended their first class together. Sitting beside each other and sharing desks, Professor McGonagall was surprisingly pleased at the sight. She thought they fit each other well, and already had a high opinion of Daphne thanks to her well-mannered conduct.
McGonagall had beckoned them over after class, giving the couple her blessings — but also urging them to exercise some 'self-restraint'. And, if not, to 'be careful'.
As an alumnus who had served the last three and a half decades with the school, she had a good understanding of just what students got up to in their free time.
The two had been left thoroughly embarrassed at the implications of her warning, unable to look each other in the eye for a few moments. The tension was diffused when they simultaneously looked back and waggled their brows invitingly at each other, immediately erupting into a fit of giggles at their shared gesture.
Potions had been interesting too. The dungeons had never been so abuzz with life and hushed discussion before as Daphne and Harry took to sitting together at the very front.
Snape seemed to be even more pallid than usual. Other than looking ill, he became quite absentminded while teaching, frequently losing his train of thought during his tutorials.
Some wondered if the sight of the two together caused him to malfunction, all thanks to his differing biases for both houses.
This fraught carelessness had even caused a few cauldrons to explode with his distracted instructions, forcing him to bring an end to lessons, much to the delight of the students who headed off to an early lunch.
*O*O*O*
Their plans during meals had changed too.
Whenever they weren't eating in the Clubhouse, the Chimaeras shared a spot together at either of their houses' tables to promote unity and goodwill between them.
They sat with mostly just Astoria's friends, but it was a start.
It didn't take long before they had roped Ron, his twin brothers, Luna, and even Seamus and Dean, along with them.
Today's lunch was a bit different though.
All throughout the break, owls would swoop in and out, dropping packages to the Slytherin tables. This, of course, was not too odd given the period. Perhaps it was simply early Christmas presents being delivered. The holidays were quickly encroaching upon them after all.
No, what was odd was the intensity at which deliveries were being made. Minute after minute, owl after owl, packages of varying sizes would be deposited. Boxes and wrappers of red, green, and blue were quickly flooding that end of the table.
With all the birds and boxes, it was almost disrupting lunch!
Dutifully, and without complaint, these young students carried them out of the hall like some well-oiled conveyor belt. Some were so big they even required the use of four pairs of hands.
As box after box left, Daphne Greengrass leaned her head forward slightly to look down the length of the table. Today, they were sitting with just the Chimaeras, so she spotted her little sister further down the table. The younger Greengrass' attention was buried in a small book, inconspicuous as any other uninvolved student.
"What's the matter?" asked Harry, beside her.
"My sister," she replied, her gaze intently fixed upon the small brunette.
"Up to no good?" Tracey asked with a piece of ham hanging off her fork.
"What else?"
"Attagirl," said Tracey proudly as she bit down on her food.
Harry squinted behind his glasses, trying to make Astoria out from the other students. "You can tell? From here?"
"It's a little hard to tell, isn't it?" asked Neville.
Tracey snickered at his question. "You wouldn't know mischief if it hexed you mid-sentence, Nevs. Just last week you thought Peeves was helping to polish some of the school's trophies."
Neville's ears turned bright red as he held a finger up. "Okay, in my defence, he looked like he was trying really hard!"
"With nothing but heaps of lard?" she asked, grinning at his innocent naivety. "Anyway, Daph's right. Astoria's got trouble written all over her. Look at her, trying not to make a big deal out of all those deliveries."
It was true. Astoria didn't seem too interested in the happenings but the awkward tapping of her fingers against the cover of the book indicated she was having trouble keeping still. It was an act done merely for show.
"Not to mention those are all her friends."
"Oh," said Harry, "and Sophie's taking note of everything they're receiving."
Beside her, Sophie Duskwright was dutifully jotting down each and every package received on a clipboard, like the shipment manager of a very effective freight company.
"Are you going to do anything about it?" asked Hermione, who had been carefully combing her hair. "It's just deliveries. It seems harmless enough, doesn't it?"
Hermione, along with Neville and Tracey, were already aware of their plans. This certainly had to be the first step in enacting those plans. And while creating more secret tunnels around the school seemed harmless enough, what they did with all these new passageways was still up for debate.
"Harmless… That's how it always starts with her. I'm just weighing if it's worth the headache of stopping her later, rather than now." Daphne sighed and slumped up against a smiling Harry. He was trying to soothe her with gentle caresses of her back as if she were a very needy cat.
By now, one of the professors present had approached her little sister's operations. The Chimaeras watched as he made his way over, though the students didn't seem to be panicking.
Even from this distance, they could tell that they were requesting an inspection of some of the goods.
Still reading her book, Astoria gave Sophie a discreet nod. Sophie cut in, bringing a red and blue gift over for the surprise inspection.
They tore into the tops of the wrapping and the professor peered inside, and Sophie seemed to explain something to them. This seemed to satisfy them as they allowed their operation to continue unperturbed.
"See?" said Harry, "I'm sure it'll be fine. We got into much more trouble at her age — and look how we turned out!"
"That… doesn't fill me with confidence."
With that response, half the table jokingly jeered in unison. The only one who had never caused mischief around the castle was Neville, who just offered Daphne a supportive thumbs-up.
*O*O*O*
A week later — two weeks from the Yule Ball.
A Ravenclaw approached Tracey and Daphne just before the first class of the day. They recognised him as being in the same year as them. A Calum… something-or-other.
"Hello, Tracey. Would you be interested in going to the Yule Ball with me?"
"I appreciate the offer, but no. Sorry."
*O*O*O*
"Hey, Davis," an older Hufflepuff greeted her, appearing suddenly from around a pillar. "How about you and I—"
"Thanks, but I don't think so."
*O*O*O*
A slip of paper was handed to her in class.
A few words had been hastily scribbled down onto it, along with boxes for her to check off beside them.
"Tracey Davis, will you go out with me?"
"Yes [ ]"
"Yes [ ]"
Seeing no option to turn it down, and unaware of who sent it her way, Tracey crumpled it up with a sigh and tossed it behind her, hitting Goyle on the nose.
*O*O*O*
"Evening, Miss Davis. I, Bartholomew Wiggins, Heir of House Wiggins, would like to cordially invite you to the Yule—"
Like ripping off a band-aid, her answer was quick, and direct, and would only sting a little.
"No."
The two Slytherins watched as Bartholomew shuffled off after that blunt rejection, his smarmy head hung low in disappointment and—
…and was he crying?
Okay. Maybe it was a bit more than just a sting.
"Brutal. You broke his heart, I think," observed Daphne as she returned to Tracey's side, having given them a moment of privacy.
"Good. Pompous prick." Tracey scoffed, clearly irritated. "Who the fuck even are the Wiggins?"
Her answer was a snickering shrug from Daphne. "That's the 6th one today, and it's not even close to evening yet," said Daphne with a smirk. "You're making good pace to break your record."
Ten. That was the most invitations she'd received in one day. And she'd been particularly irritable by the end of it.
Tracey exhaled sharply, worn down from how many offers to the Ball she'd been getting. While flattering, she felt the only reason she was getting this many offers was because Daphne was off the market. She was just next in line for anyone bold enough to try.
And boy, they certainly were brave.
Perhaps seeing the success Harry had with Daphne had emboldened them, but Tracey didn't think any of them were worth her time. She didn't know them well enough, and it was clear that they wanted the same as Draco with Daphne.
Tracey could see it in their eyes. Everything about why they'd even approached her was superficial. And she was going to be no one's accessory.
"I'm glad I have Harry," said Daphne, doing her best to sound as nonchalant as possible as she slowly fed Tracey hints. "It really helped me avoid all this trouble. Maybe if you just picked someone…"
If she did, news would spread and they'd stop bothering her!
"That's a good point…"
But what she wanted in her partner was… she didn't exactly know. What she did know was that she wanted an equal, someone who would treat her the same way Harry treated Daphne. Someone kind, caring, and sweet to her, even on her worst of days.
Hm. Now that she thought about it, that sounded familiar. She was slowly starting to form an image of them as if their name was on the tip of her tongue…
"I wonder how Hermione's doing…" mused Daphne casually, "or Neville, for that matter."
Oh! Yes!
She quickly dashed those thoughts on the rocks, forgetting it at the mention of him.
Neville still hadn't gotten a partner yet, had he?
Ha! That settled it, then!
*O*O*O*
Three days later…
"What is taking him so long?!" grumbled Tracey as she slammed the back of her head against the backrest of the cushioned loveseat.
As it turned out, the matter had not been settled.
"You want him to ask you?" asked Daphne, looking up from her book at Tracey's abrupt outburst.
"As a friend, Daphne. As a friend." Tracey jabbed a finger into her palm to make her point. "It's all a matter of principle!"
"So… why don't you ask him first?"
"Because that's… that's ridiculous!" she said after struggling for a second to find an answer. Daphne also noted that Tracey was unable to meet her gaze. "Boys should always ask their female friends first!"
"Of course. That famous ironclad rule," agreed Daphne sarcastically with a faint smile on her lips, setting her book down onto the table.
"Yes, and he really ought to follow procedure."
"Ah, yes." Daphne slowly wiped her hand out in the air in front of her and remarked loudly with great wonder. " 'Tracey Davis — a stickler for the rules'. I'm sure Hermione'd like a word with you on that."
"And I'm sure he's already asked her!"
"I honestly doubt that. We're friends, and he certainly didn't ask me."
"Ya have a boyfriend!" Tracey gave Daphne a sour look for trying to play dumb.
Daphne shrugged. "I thought it was a matter of principle?"
"Ugh, yer useless as usual."
Daphne just stuck her tongue out at her.
At that moment, Hermione entered the Clubhouse. She seemed to be in a pleasant mood as she hummed a quiet tune.
"Good morning, you two. How are—"
Tracey leapt out of her seat and rushed toward her friend.
"Yeah, it's been great," Tracey responded dismissively. With an arm clamped around Hermione's shoulder, Tracey began steering her towards the now empty loveseat. "Say Granger, has Nevs asked ya to the ball?"
"No," said Hermione earnestly, quite confused at being accosted so suddenly. Even then, she didn't fight against the raging tide that was Tracey Davis.
"Ah-ha!" Tracey spun her around, sat her down, and squeezed her shoulders. "See—!" she did a double-take, "Wait, what?"
"I'm already going with someone else," she replied as if it were no big deal, and she seemed to find the ground infinitely more interesting than her friends' faces.
There was a pause as the Slytherins locked eyes with each other.
"It's Krum, isn't it?" Daphne asked Tracey.
"It's totally Krum," she agreed with a sly smirk.
"I'm not telling!" replied Hermione regardless. "And, again, Neville didn't ask me anything related to the Ball."
"Told you." Daphne shot a smug smile Tracey's way but turned to Hermione. "By the way, we will be getting back to that."
"Oh, I forgot…" Hermione suddenly said, palming her face. Rising from her seat, she slipped past Tracey and began making her way out of the Clubhouse. "I h—ave... to go and— um, feed my owl...?"
She hurried out the door, leaving the Slytherins alone once more. They did nothing, simply staring at the closed door before Tracey slowly sank back into the empty seat.
After a second of silence, Daphne shared another look with Tracey.
"Krum?"
"Krum."
"…Which obviously disproves your theory."
"Maybe Nevs just hasn't found the right time to ask."
Seeing a rare chance to probe her friend on her feelings for their friend, Daphne pressed the matter like an iron poker in the ribs.
"Okay…" Daphne clasped her hands together and pursed her lips like a judgemental therapist. "Why does it have to be him?"
Tracey was surprised by the question. Her eyes seemed to go unfocused for a second before she returned with an answer.
"Because he's my friend and I don't want either of us to go alone."
Daphne gave her a shrewd look. She wasn't sure about Neville, but they both knew Tracey could have gone with any of the boys who had asked her.
A direct comment would only put her on guard, and Tracey was already defensive about any suggestion that she might like him. Saying anything to her outright would be like punching a hole right through her hull, and Daphne didn't want to sink that ship before it even got a chance to sail.
So she had to 'subtly' urge her along.
"That's why?"
Tracey looked at her as if she were a bit slow.
"Duh. Obviously."
"Obviously," Daphne parroted back childishly, a side only a few could elicit from her. "And that explains why you turned all those other boys down."
"Oh, good point. I could use that."
Daphne looked confused. "What?"
"Maybe I could pretend to mention I'm keen on asking someone else… then that'll get him to…" Tracey stroked her chin thoughtfully, mumbling mostly to herself. "Hey, yeah! That might work!"
Daphne was a little shocked at the idea. Tracey usually had far more emotional intelligence than this — admittedly, even more than Daphne herself. She was often the first of the two to notice when someone was struggling. Daphne had a feeling it was why she was so good at exploiting other people's emotions.
If her plan of spurring Neville into action through jealousy was anything to go by, it seemed that the upcoming event might have made a mess of her usual sharpness.
What if he didn't still didn't ask her, and ended up going with someone else? What if Tracey and Neville wound up holding a silent grudge over this? It'd just mean two of her friends were going to get hurt for no reason.
It was why Daphne didn't want Tracey to needlessly terrorise Neville, much like she had done to him.
It was clear the two liked each other to some degree, but Daphne just wasn't sure if either had personally acknowledged it yet. Maybe the denial was still too strong?
She still didn't hold back from repeating the obvious.
"If you already know you want to go with Neville, then just ask him already."
"I'm just…" Her eyes sought about the Clubhouse for some sort of answer. "I'm not trying to make it seem like I'm pitying him! So I need him to ask first!"
Growing annoyed with the way Tracey was beating around the bush, Daphne scoffed at her reasoning, still focused on the most direct solution. "Seems like you're making it out to be a big deal. Why do you need this to be special?"
Tracey scowled, clicking her tongue in annoyance. "Alright, now yer pissin' me off. Ya don't get to say that after you had a whole fuckin' spectacle yerself. Plus, Harry asked you first!"
Daphne grew hot in the face, upset and embarrassed that there was some truth to Tracey's words.
"That's because we're dating! It's different!"
Without anyone there to mediate this conflict between them, tempers were starting to flare between the friends as they struggled to navigate the difficult, unspoken circumstances of teenage love.
Unless they were willing to drop them, there were some walls even best friends couldn't bring down. And now logic and reason were failing as childish emotion took hold of both of them.
"Tah-maa-tah, tah-maa-tah."
"You just pronounced 'tomato' the same way twice," said Daphne with a frown and a raised brow.
"Puh-taa-tuh, tah-maa-tuh."
"And that's not even how the saying even— never mind." Daphne groaned as she ran her hand across her face. She tried to keep her cool, reminding herself that this wasn't the main point of their argument. "Look… I'm just saying there's a simple solution to all this, and not to do something stupid — something you might regret."
Tracey's fingernails were digging into the squeaking leather of the armrest. "Stupid? I don't need someone who's already got a partner to tell me how to feel."
Similarly, a sense of frustration was drilling in the back of Daphne's skull. It left her with a throbbing headache. It felt like Daphne was beating herself over the head with books in an unorthodox attempt to study — painful, and went absolutely nowhere.
It'd been so long since the two of them had been in an actual argument that she had forgotten just why they had learned to be so agreeable with each other.
Trying to reason with Tracey was frustratingly difficult when she was in the mood to be right. However the same could be said the other way around too.
"Don't be childish, Tracey. All this can all be avoided if you just ask first."
Tracey surprised Daphne by slamming her hand against her armrest. The leather and padding might have softened the blow, but the sharp, whip-like crack still made Daphne jolt a little.
Tracey rose from her seat like a coiled cobra standing itself up, fangs fully bared.
"Why can't I be childish about this?! Why can't my feelings come first this time?!" She hissed, her fury seemingly realized. Each sentence was followed up with enraged waves of her hands. "Yes! Of course, I know it's easier to ask him, but I wanna be fuckin' selfish! I—I want what you had! Don't even need all the dramatics either, I just want to be wanted too…! And not by dumb idiots who want to use me to make 'em look better!"
The glare she held on Daphne felt like Medusa's gaze, freezing her friend in place.
"Have ya considered that? That just because I act tough and rejected all of 'em doesn't mean that I'm not interested in being asked out by the sweetest boy I know?!" she shouted, jabbing her fingers into her chest.
Then she looked at her hands, rapidly turning them back and forth as if examining herself for any glaring issues. "An—And I—I honestly thought we were getting closer, b—but he hasn't said a word about it all week!" She slapped herself on the forehead, looking extremely distraught. "I mean, fer fucks sake, I feel like a fuckin' ghost!"
Tracey was panting heavily now. Her chest and shoulders heaved with each breath, exhausted after her explosive rant. In that short time, she'd been brutally honest about how she felt. About all of it.
Daphne's dismissive attitude, Neville's silence, and a week of non-stop invitations drove her to finally go off with the force of an exploding cauldron. Then, she crumpled back down into her seat with a ragged exhale.
"…Fuck," she uttered between exhales, her eyes nearly shut. "…Fuuuuuuck."
Languidly, she brought her legs up and curled herself up into a ball on the seat. One hand combed a handful of hair from her face and gripped it tightly, while the other wrapped her knees close to her chest. She hung her head low and pressed her forehead up against her knees, keeping her face down and hidden behind them.
The fire in both girls was smothered now, and they fell into an unsteady silence. The sun might have been shining in the room, but there was no warmth to be felt.
Seeing her like this, down in the dumps, felt wrong…
A spear of remorse felt like it'd just thrust Daphne right through the heart, and she regretted the way she'd been so dismissive of Tracey's feelings. For all the cheerful snark that she was, Tracey Davis had always worn her heart on her sleeve and never retreated into a shell — at least one Daphne never thought to consider she had.
Slowly and carefully, as if she were in the presence of a dangerous, wounded animal, Daphne got out of her seat and approached Tracey. Seeing that she didn't make any movements to leave, Daphne gingerly settled herself on the carpet, just in front of Tracey's seat.
"I didn't realise how much this meant to you," said Daphne after a moment of consideration. "I should have considered how you felt more. I'm sorry, Tracey."
Carefully, she took the arm Tracey had wrapped around her shins into her hands. Tracey didn't fight her. She began massaging her palm in the same way that Harry did for her whenever she was upset, hoping it would help calm her down.
Because of the apology or the massage —or perhaps even both— the hand gripping her hair had loosened up and fallen to her side now. After a few more moments of methodical squeezing, Tracey finally spoke up from behind her knees.
"…Yer quite shite at this, aren't you?"
Guess it wasn't the massage.
Daphne squeezed a little harder.
"Ow."
"Good to see you're still in a jolly mood," joked a smirking Daphne, her eyes still focused on Tracey's hand. "Direct your complaints on my performance to my new superior."
"Your new one's terrible," sniffled Tracey, her face still hidden. "I liked your old one better."
Daphne just smiled in response, continuing the massage in silence with her best friend.
*O*O*O*
It was nearly ten minutes later that either one of them spoke up again. Both had been silently gathering their thoughts, this time being a bit more considerate in their judgement.
"I know it really isn't my business, Trace… but if you really want him to ask you, there are better options. I'll help too. You don't have to hurt him, like I did."
By now, Tracey had lowered her legs back down, revealing her red nose and puffy eyes, but she seemed fine otherwise.
"Yer right. I… I don't know why I said all that. I don't want to hurt him either… And I'm sorry for what I said too, Daph." It was obvious that Tracey was struggling on the thin line between accepting that she had a crush, and said crush being on a good friend.
Just like Daphne at the time, Tracey had never truly grappled with these feelings before. All she ever had were simply, fleeting crushes. And, just like Daphne, she'd need some coaxing and time before she'd fully realise her feelings, let alone be comfortable talking about it.
But… just like how Tracey had been there for her, this time it was Daphne's turn.
"You have nothing to apologise for." Daphne got up from her spot on the floor and shared the seat with Tracey. "I think I was being a hypocrite."
"Ye were being a hypocrite," said Tracey in agreement, looking at her out of the corner of her eye. "And so, so mean to me… Some would even say downright cruel."
"The absolute worst," Daphne agreed. She turned too, and they stared at each other before she opened her arms up to Tracey, who immediately reciprocated. They pressed themselves up against each other tightly, heads on each other's shoulders, arms finding purchase against each other's backs.
They stayed that way, speaking softly to each other.
"I'm glad we didn't fight for long."
"Me too." Daphne exhaled slowly, enjoying her embrace. It was different from Harry's. With Tracey's significantly smaller frame, it didn't have the same sense of protection and safety, but her hugs were tinged with a sense of belonging and faint nostalgia. "Imagine if we'd been like Harry and Weasley…"
"Yeah, how stupid'd that be?" Daphne felt Tracey's head brushing against hers as she nodded ever so slightly. "…Ye'd be Ronald, of course."
Daphne took in a breath, about to retort, then her face twisted in confusion. "R—Ronald? When did you two get so chummy?"
"We aren't," Tracey admitted with a giggle, "I'm just starting to use his first name to annoy him. Do you think he'd be more pissed if I used his full name instead?"
"Definitely his full—" Daphne shook her head abruptly as if snapping out of a trance. "Not the point! And it's not a competition either, Tracey… But if it were, you apologised too — so, if I were Weasley, you'd also be Weasley!"
Neither girl was fully aware that Harry had also apologised when the boys had settled things, hence the minor confusion.
"Of course…! Of course," Daphne felt a hearty rumble in her chest as Tracey chuckled as if she didn't quite agree. "Thought ya said that I had 'nothing to apologise for', but whatever ya say, ya liar."
The girls separated, with Daphne holding her by the side of her arms. "Oh, you are so lucky you just cried if not I'd wallop you right now."
There was a brief silence, as if Tracey was weighing if her next sentence was worth saying aloud.
Unable to miss the chance to take the piss, she said, "...Always quick to resort to violence, eh?"
"Alright, that's it!"
"Wait, no! I was joking!" Tracey protested as she was dragged down to the carpet. The pair tumbled to the floor, with Daphne atop Tracey.
Tracey raised her hands up, desperately shielding herself from Daphne's hands… which proceeded to relentlessly tickle her tummy without mercy.
Though the Clubhouse was soundproofed through the use of Elf magicks, many that day swore they heard squealing laughter rolling down the corridors of Hogwarts.
*O*O*O*
Chapter 16: End
*O*O*O*
A/N:
The next chapter's nearly halfway done, so stay tuned for Neville's big moments! There will be drama! There will be romance! And underscoring it all will be scenes of violence, so consider this a warning, and brace yourselves!
Thank you, and see you soon!
P.S - I partiallty edited this on the FFN app on the phone, so if there are duplicated lines or errors, do let me know!
Unimportant A/N:
As much as I love these characters, I still want them to have their flaws. I hope I've done a good job of showing some of their faults, including Daphne's. I don't want her to come off as a perfect Mary Sue. She's still a teen, and can be rude even if she doesn't mean it.
I also feel like I'm always telling instead of showing when it comes to Daphne and Tracey's popularity. Trying to work on that. Let me know your thoughts, if you have any.
I hope you guys find the scene with Malfoy to be funny. I'm having fun turning him into a character plagued by comedic tragedies, where he fails to learn or grow from his mistakes. Sort of like Sisyphus, except the slope is his character progression and the boulder is his ego.
Plus, it's supposed to parallel a scene I had already written for this chapter, but as per my last A/N I'm trying to make them shorter so I can make more frequent updates.
Hopefully, you'll see the parallels then — amidst all the drama!