The next night, Daphne stared at her bed with her lips pursed and wand extended.

"It was the Carrow Twins." She spun around at the whisper, seeing Tracey peeking out from behind her own bed curtains. "I already tried to Vanish it, it's charmed against that somehow. Sorry."

Looking back at the wet, viscous mud coating her sheets and pillows, Daphne eventually shrugged. "Don't worry. It's not- um, not really a big deal." Of course there'd be some blowback. This wasn't surprising, and it hardly mattered. Not after the way today had gone.

"Daphne," Tracey whispered again, more urgently. "It wasn't just your bed. They were messing with your trunk, too."

"What?" Hurriedly pulling her school trunk from beneath her bed, Daphne opened the lid and nearly retched at the overwhelming smell of manure. "Oh, gross!" With the entire point of dung-bombs being to harass and inconvenience, all her clothes would need hand-washing. "Why'd you let them do this?"

Tracey didn't answer, and one look was all it took for Daphne to understand. Her roommate had her own precarious balance to maintain; the way the older Slytherins were organizing this year, combined with the war raging outside the castle walls, and Tracey's own blood status… "Never mind. It's not your battle to fight. I appreciate you telling me, really."

She nodded, and the curtains around her bed slid shut once more. Daphne shut her befouled trunk, getting down on her hands and knees to drag out her second trunk. Thankfully, it remained untouched - the Carrows must not have realised she brought two to school with her.

Where was she going to sleep? What was she going to wear tomorrow?

The mattress squelched beneath her knee, instantly soaking her stocking as Daphne tentatively climbed into her bed. Gross. Still, there weren't exactly a lot of options. Wincing at the discomfort of the cold, wet muck, she disrobed and gingerly laid down, curling up into a ball to minimise the surface area her body touched.

This was fine. She could handle this.

"I'm sorry," Hermione gasped, letting out a breath she'd been holding. "I need to go."

Daphne involuntarily hunched forward, unconsciously drawing into herself as though reducing the space she occupied would lessen the stench. They couldn't have known when they decided to vandalise her things, but whoever had pranked her certainly managed to ruin her first visit to the Gryffindor table. Stupid, immature little brats!

"Hermione-!" Harry hissed at his departing friend, forcing down the cross look on his face before he turned to face her. "It's not that bad. I mean, not to say it's nothing, but she's being dramatic."

"No, she's not," Daphne said, pushing away her breakfast of a single poached egg and dry toast. "I'm the one who should leave. I'm ruining everyone's meal."

"You're really not!" Harry said earnestly, although his own plate was empty and his eyes watered as he scooted closer to sling an arm around her shoulders.

"How can you say that?" she gestured to the half-dozen empty seats on either side of where she, Harry, and Ron were eating.

"Look, I'd be angry and embarrassed, too, but all of us want you here. This is why they pranked you, to make you feel isolated and alone. Let's prove them wrong." Harry pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, but his cough afterward diminished the kind gesture. "Isn't that right, Ron?"

They both looked across the table, where Ron was noisily chewing a mouthful of waffles. He paused to swallow before he answered, "Damn right!"

Daphne and Harry each goggled at his unaffected appetite. The stench from Daphne's clothes was eye-watering, and when she showered this morning, she found someone had replaced her shampoo with bubotuber pus. It was treated, so it didn't burn her, but the smell soaked into her scalp and lingered like a putrid cloud.

"How are you just sitting there?" she asked, dumbfounded as he cleaned his plate and reached for a platter of sausage links.

Ron dipped a forkful of meat into the leftover syrup from his waffles, pausing with his fork raised to reply. "I grew up with Fred and George, remember? If I lost my appetite every time something smelled foul, I'd be Creevey's size."

Harry rolled his eyes, and before long the two were occupied with a discussion of the upcoming quidditch tryouts. The sheer normalcy of their banter did more to cheer Daphne up than a dozen showers would, and she couldn't repress a smile as she slid her hand into Harry's.

"I don't understand. Didn't you make an agreement with your Housemate in exchange for your safety?"

"It was less an agreement than it was a threat," Daphne muttered, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds to make certain the door to the empty classroom she'd brought Elysant to remained closed.

"You've followed the terms, though, haven't you?"

The memory of Pansy confronting her in their dorm's bathroom earlier in the week popped into her mind. "Mostly, yea."

"Then just do what they ask. Now, explain to me again the significance of this potion that's got you so excited."

Daphne was eager to change the topic, so she launched into a brief lecture on Amortentia and the conclusion she'd drawn about what - and who - Harry desired most. It was nice to talk about something positive with how her day had begun - someone Vanished all of the toilet seats in the Sixth Year's bathroom, so Daphne 'fell in' first thing in the morning. She tried to warn Tracey about the pranked facilities, but her roommate wouldn't meet her eyes and mumbled something about having already used the Fifth Year's bathroom.

It was an unpleasant reminder of how alone she was in the dungeons. Even though, since encountering Pansy, Daphne had set neither hide nor hair inside the Slytherin dormitories before curfew, the pranks weren't stopping.

To top it all off, her monthlies had started this morning, a full week early, at that. The cramping and aches were awful, much worse than usual.

"You were so sceptical of using potions before, for very good reason. What changed?"

"That's the thing, I didn't potion him! It smells like me to him because I'm what he wants!" Daphne's excitement weakened somewhat at another pulse of pain running through her abdomen. "Trust me, it matters."

"Very well. Stay the course, you're almost there."

"I think… I mean, isn't now the time? If he cares for me this much he won't refuse me!"

"Desire is not the same thing as love. You've spent, what, less than a week actually with him since you began your courtship? No, it's too soon."

Daphne shifted in her seat, uncomfortably aware of the wetness between her legs. It wasn't normally this bad - the stress must be affecting her body. "Have you forgotten I'm working with a limited timeframe? Astoria can't wait forever!"

Elysant's voice sharpened. "You only get one shot at this. You've fooled him so far, if you're over-eager he may start to ask questions, or worse, decide to simply find a woman with fewer complications. It's not as though there aren't better options than you."

"Right." She might have had a more biting reply at her ancestor's cruel remark, but Daphne was drained, tired from the lack of sleep and her body's aches and pains. She felt sluggish, slow, and nauseous. "Okay."

Replacing the portrait in her trunk, she shrank it down with a spell and tucked it safely away in her robes. After her school trunk was vandalised, Daphne realised she couldn't risk leaving her only ally unprotected in her dormitory and began carrying her second trunk with her everywhere she went. With that task accomplished, it was time for Household Charms.

The day wore on, and she continued to feel worse and worse. She nodded off several times in class, embarrassingly even in NEWT Arithmancy, her favourite subject. Thankfully, Hermione woke her with a gentle elbow.

"Are you alright? You're white as a sheet."

"M'fine," Daphne mumbled. "It's my period."

Hermione's expression was sympathetic, and they both refocused on the problems Professor Vector was working through on the board. Once the lecture ended, they started working on their in-class assignment.

"Are you going to the quidditch tryouts this afternoon?"

Hermione nodded primly. "Of course! It's Harry's first real outing as captain, and I'd like to cheer Ron and Ginny on. I'm sure they won't need any encouragement, though."

"How many open spots does he have to fill?" Daphne went to most quidditch games, and even enjoyed being a spectator, but that didn't mean she paid attention to which year various players were in.

"Pretty much the whole team. Harry and Katie are the only holdovers; and Ginny, I guess, although she only played as Harry's backup 'til now."

Great. That meant the tryouts would take significantly longer than she'd hoped. "Want to go to the library after class and get some books to read while we wait?"

"Wait - you want to come to the tryouts? Does Harry know?"

What was so surprising about that? "He's my boyfriend. Of course I'm going to support him."

"Um, right. Yea, I guess we could go to the library." Hermione turned back to her assignment, a slight hint of colour on her cheeks.

The mood was suddenly awkward, but why?

"How's it going over here, ladies? Any questions?"

"No, Professor," Hermione dutifully responded, and Daphne took Vector's arrival as a cue to get back to work herself.

When class ended, they packed up their materials and shouldered their bags. It was only as they left the class together, walking side by side towards the library that Daphne realised what was so unusual, why Hermione had been so odd before.

Somewhere along the way, they'd become friends. The stuffy, pureblood heiress and the uppity muggleborn. It was a marvel, a stunning testament to how much things can change in a year.

"You really do look terrible."

Then again, Daphne thought with annoyed grimace, maybe she was just imagining it. "Thanks, I really needed to hear that."

"Have you taken anything?"

"Like a potion? It's just my monthlies. It'll be over soon enough."

Hermione swung her bag around, digging inside for a moment. "Here, try this."

She passed over a pair of small, white tablets. "What is this?"

"Muggle medicine. It'll help with the cramps."

Daphne eyed the medicine with considerable scepticism, but then a fresh wave of discomfort swept through her. "I- I just eat them?"

"Here," Hermione gestured to a nearby lavatory. "Swallow them with some water. You'll start to feel better in a half hour or so." If it worked as she said, Daphne thought she might gain a new appreciation for muggles. The tablets certainly didn't taste as bad as a pain-relieving potion, at the minimum.

After their brief detour, they made their way to the library, perusing the shelves independently for anything interesting. Eventually, Daphne found a book on transfiguration that caught her attention, and joined Hermione - who had a stack of books a foot high - at Madam Pince's desk.

"Are you sure you want to come? Maybe you should go back to your dorms and lie down."

"No, it's okay. I think I'm starting to feel better." She wasn't, but what else was she supposed to do? Sit in the library and feel sorry for herself while Weasley's kid sister sidled up next to her boyfriend?

She grasped the railing as they walked down the stairs towards the Entrance Hall, feeling beads of sweat break out across her brow. The glare from the sun practically blinded Daphne as she stepped outside.

Something was wrong. She heard Hermione talking, but it sounded like she was speaking from across the castle. Daphne closed her eyes to block the sun's brightness, but her eyelids weren't doing a great job shutting out the light. She staggered, then stumbled, falling to her knees.

"Don't tell Harry," she mumbled, then everything went dark.

"Give her some space, I think she's coming around."

Daphne felt like she was floating on a cloud. No trace of her earlier discomfort, only the light, airy feeling of pain-relieving potions.

"Miss Greengrass? How do you feel?"

"Madam Pomfrey?" Daphne took in her surroundings. "What am I doing here?"

The school's healer put a calming hand on her shoulder, pushing gently against her efforts to sit up. "Miss Granger brought you here after you collapsed outside."

Her first instinct was flushed indignation - it was hardly that serious! - but quickly swallowed that feeling. This obviously wasn't normal. "What happened?"

"You were under the effect of a hex that causes excessive menstrual bleeding. The muggle pills you took likely had the unfortunate effect of thinning your blood, worsening the spell's impact." Pomfrey took a seat on the edge of her bed. "You didn't realise something was wrong? You had to have been bleeding quite heavily."

"I thought it was just stress from…" Daphne trailed off, putting in a determined effort to fight through the potion's effects. "My period was due in a week or so. Sometimes it can be bad, and it's not like I knew I'd been hexed."

The school's healer was quiet for a long moment. "Perhaps we should wait for a bit, then, until Professor Snape can join this conversation."

"Why? I- I'm better, aren't I?"

"This hex is a mean-spirited bit of nuisance magic. The sort of thing a bully uses to humiliate their victim. It's not the sort of thing someone on the receiving end doesn't notice." She paused, seeming to struggle for a moment, grasping for the right words. "Unless, for example, they were asleep at the time it was cast."

A gasp came from just outside Daphne's view, and both she and Madam Pomfrey turned in that direction. "Mr. Potter, I'm with a patient. I'll thank you to respect her privacy and-"

Harry ignored her, striding around to the other side of Daphne's bed. His hair was wild, a sheen of sweat present, still clad in his quidditch robes. "It's gotten this bad?" His voice was low and furious as he stooped next to her, taking her hand with one of his and using the other to stroke her hair. "This is what Malfoy's been doing, isn't it? He's turned the whole House against you! I'm going to-"

"Please don't. I can handle this on my own."

Madam Pomfrey looked between the two of them with a baffled expression.

"Daphne, you're getting cursed in your sleep!"

"I said I'll take care of it." And with Harry there, looking ready to burn down the castle for her sake, she actually believed her own words. Having him worry for her, caring for her was better than any potion. She mirrored his position, her hand coming up to cradle his face as his did hers. "Trust me."

A light cough reminded them both of Madam Pomfrey's presence. "I'll be speaking with Professor Snape, regardless. I'll allow you a few moments to chat, but I know you're familiar with what constitutes proper conduct in the Hospital Wing." She gave a very firm look at Harry as she said that, then stood up and disappeared into her office.

"You're supposed to be at quidditch tryouts," she said, shifting her arms to wrap around his neck. "How'd you know what happened?"

Harry straightened, using her grip on him to lift her to a seated position. "While Hermione was bringing you here, she ran across a couple of Third Years in the corridor and had them come tell me what happened."

"I told her not to," Daphne grumbled, but there was no feeling in her words. Not while Harry was holding her.

"Do you really think I'd keep running tryouts while you're hurt in the Hospital Wing?"

"It was just a prank!"

"Daphne…"

"Let me handle this. I promise if I need help, you'll be the first person I turn to."

"It's the first week of school, and it's already this bad. I'm worried about you."

"Exactly - we've only been back, together in public view, for a week." But the slight tremble in her voice, audible even to her own ears, gave lie to that assertion. Daphne cleared her throat, and when she continued her tone was firm. "I'm going to take care of this. You have more important things to be worried about, remember?"

"Hey! You coming back, or what?" They both looked towards the entrance, where a frowning Hermione stood behind a handsome, vaguely familiar older student.

"I tried to stop him," Hermione said to them, looking supremely irritated.

The older boy's eyes lingered on Daphne before his gaze turned back to Harry. "You ran out on us halfway through the keeper runs."

"His girlfriend was sick, you absolute tosser!" Hermione looked ready to strangle him, assuming she could wrap her hands around his thick neck.

"She looks fine to me," he quickly replied. "Look, Potter, maybe you're not ready for the responsibility being captain involves. Come back to the pitch, and you'll see not only am I the best keeper, but that I can help you run things, take you under my wing and show you the ropes-"

"You know what, McLaggen?" Harry practically snarled. "Ron gets the spot."

"What! He's not fit to carry my broom!"

"Even if that were true - which it's not - I'd rather lose than put up with you all season."

"You're making a mistake," McLaggen ground out, clenching his fists and taking a step towards them.

Harry crossed his arms, staring down the larger boy. "And you'd know that, how? Pretty sure the team trusts my five years as a starting player over somebody who sat in the stands for six. Now fuck off!"

"You little-!" he abruptly went quiet, and a moment later Daphne understood why. Hermione stepped out from behind him, her wand poking into the Seventh Year.

"Team rosters are the purview of the quidditch captain, McLaggen. That'll be ten points from Gryffindor for being a loser - sorry, a sore loser. And if you don't get out of here, right now, we'll go have a chat with Professor McGonagall. So what's it going to be?"

With one last scowl, he stormed out of the Hospital Wing.

"Thanks, Hermione."

She grinned, looking inordinately pleased with how that played out. "Been wanting to do that for years. If you want," at this, her smile turned a tad too innocent. "I could go tell Ron the good news, so you could stay here."

"I should probably be the one to-" Harry paused when Daphne squeezed his hand.

"Sure, that's fine with us."

"Okay!" she said brightly. "I'm really glad you're okay, Daphne."

Alone once again, Daphne pulled Harry closer to forestall any continuation of their prior discussion. Judging by the look on his face when Madam Pomfrey finally arrived to interrupt their snogging session, she'd bought herself enough time to try and work out her issues with her Housemates on her own.

"Malfoy."

He stiffened, but relaxed when he looked over his shoulder and saw she was alone. "What do you want?"

She'd hidden outside the Defence classroom, thankful he'd been held back by Professor Snape long enough for the rest of the students - Harry included - to leave for their next class. "We need to talk about our deal."

"I don't have time for this," he muttered, continuing past her.

Daphne fell into step beside him. "Then make time! You said if I stayed away from the dorms, you'd leave me alone. Instead, I'm getting hexed in my sleep and having my belongings vandalised."

"Like I just told Snape, I didn't have anything to do with that."

"Maybe not, but you can make it stop."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course, the whole world revolves around you! A few pranks and here you are, whining and throwing a tantrum."

"Listen to me, Malfoy, if you-"

"Just shut up, already!" He hissed, coming to a halt. "You really think I have time to plan out ways to annoy you? Talk to Pansy, you're her problem." And with that, he resumed his path to his next class, increasing his stride to outpace her.

Daphne watched him walk away, off-kilter at how anticlimactic the whole encounter was. She'd imagined bravely confronting Draco, facing him down and regaining the upper hand. Instead, he could hardly have offered less of a reaction.

One more incongruity to add to the pile that was starting to accumulate around her Housemate. Draco rarely turned down the opportunity to taunt those in a vulnerable position; so why did he brush her off with hardly a glance?

She recalled his expression in Umbridge's office, when their former Headmistress had pointed her wand between Harry's eyes. The excitement, the wanting, the desire to see a young man - one the same age as Draco - be tortured in front of him. Whatever changes he'd gone through, she was certain they weren't good.

Harry was right to be worried, and sooner or later, they'd need to think up how to work out what Draco was up to. But first, she needed to use his remarkable map.

Pansy never was the sort of girl to spend time alone. When she wasn't with Malfoy, she tended to keep company with friends and roommates. A product of being an extrovert, Daphne supposed, and a feature she'd once valued in her former best friend.

Given her present circumstances, though, that trait was an unfortunate barrier in securing a private chat. Thankfully, Harry's magical map allowed her to unobtrusively surveil the Sixth Year Slytherin girls, watching their dots crowded around a table in the library. When Pansy's began moving in the direction of the lavatory on her own, though, Daphne carefully folded the map and moved to intercept her.

A scowl darkened her features when she opened the stall door and saw who was waiting. "Is this where you've been spending your time?"

"I know you're the one behind the hexes and pranks."

"So? You made an agreement. If you want to blame someone, the mirror's right there."

"I've done my best to stick to it. Do you know how hard it is to not be able to go to the dorms? To never be able to get any of my things? To carry the supplies for all my classes the whole day?"

A ghost of a smirk flitted across Pansy's face. "I didn't think colouring books were so heavy. Or are you still playing with blocks in your remedial lessons?"

Daphne ignored the jibe. "I spoke with Draco." Pansy's scowl returned, deeper than ever. "You're the one who broke the deal. What's he going to think when I go to the Headmaster about the suspicious goings-on in the dungeons?"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh no? What makes you think there's anything I wouldn't do for my boyfriend, anymore than you're doing for yours?"

To her utter surprise, Pansy's face crumpled at her words and a moment later she broke out into heavy sobs. Daphne didn't know how to respond to the abrupt swing, standing awkwardly while the other girl cried into her hands.

"What's wrong?" she eventually asked.

"It's Draco, he- he dumped me! It's like he doesn't even care about me!"

Daphne let her cry. A year ago - hell, even six months ago - she would have tried to comfort her, to tell her Draco was a fool, that he didn't know what he was giving up, that he'd wise up and come crawling back.

But that was then. "You mean all of this, the way you've been treating me… it's because, what, you're jealous that I have a boyfriend and you don't?" Pansy sniffed and wiped her eyes. "What do you want, for me to be as miserable as you? You think that's going to set things right between us?"

"No." Pansy slowly collected herself. "I want you to be miserable because it's what you deserve. You don't get to be happy, not after you threw me over for that pompous, big-headed half-blood!"

"You don't know anything about Harry," Daphne said quietly, letting Pansy's vitriol wash over her. "We didn't know anything about him. And if you were ever really my friend, you wouldn't be attacking me for finally seeing him for who he is."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the bathroom.

Another week passed. The pranks lessened in severity but were unrelenting in their frequency, making for an unwelcome and constant distraction to her daily life.

"There, I think that's all of them!" Luna set down the textbook she held, then lay back onto the grass and spread her arms. "Just in time to watch the sunset!"

"Thanks for your help," Daphne said, putting down the roll of blank parchment she'd finished spelling. All of the caps of her inkpots had been loosened overnight, enough that three of them had opened inside her schoolbag during the walk to her first class. Cleaning it up had taken a considerable amount of time.

Harry was currently at quidditch practice, so Luna volunteered to help. They sat at the edge of Black Lake, enjoying what remained of the warm season before the Scottish chill descended.

"It was awfully bad luck, all your inkpots opening like that. Have Umgubular Slashkilters infested your things?" Luna said, then sat up to look in her direction. "Or maybe you knew that Professor Flitwick was covering the Wiping Spell next week, and you wanted to make sure I knew it? Tergeo!"

A small column of water siphoned upward from the lake's surface, standing upright for a moment before collapsing with a light splash. Daphne couldn't hold back a smile at her exuberance.

"C'mere, let me braid your hair." Luna quickly scooted over to take a seat in front of her. "How have your classes been going?"

"Great! I do wish we still had DA meetings, but I suppose Professor Snape does know quite a lot about the Dark Arts."

Daphne quickly and efficiently threaded the younger girl's ash-blonde hair, trying to finish before the waning light faded entirely. "The DA? Is that what you called the duelling club last year?"

Luna started to nod, but thankfully realised this wasn't the best idea, given the hold Daphne had on her hair. "Yes. I really liked being part of it. But it's okay, I have friends now!"

"That's right, you do." Daphne conjured a tie to hold the braid as she finished. "There, all finished!"

"Thank you!" Luna pulled the tail of her braid over her shoulder, running her fingers over the plait. "We should probably get back inside, don't you think?"

"You go ahead, I'm going to stay out here for a bit."

"Are you waiting for Harry?"

"No, he has a transfiguration essay he's got to finish." Luna stood up, but she didn't leave. With the light from dusk already fading, it was difficult for Daphne to make out her expression. "What is it?"

"You're not supposed to be out here after dark. The professors say it's dangerous."

Daphne forcibly shoved down any memories about her last venture into the Forbidden Forest. "I'll be okay."

Still, Luna lingered. "It wasn't Slashkilters that loosened your inkpots, was it?"

"You don't need to bother with this, you should go back inside."

Luna hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision and sat back down alongside her. "If you don't want to go back in, we can stay here. I've long suspected the Giant Squid is actually part-vampire, and so it's more likely to rise near the surface at night."

Slipping an arm around the small girl, Daphne leaned her head close and smiled into her hair. "You should go and finish your homework. Trust me, your OWL year isn't something to take lightly. I know that from experience. Go on, I'm fine."

The truth was, the longer her exile from the dungeons went on, the harder it was for Daphne to find things to occupy herself with. Household-level courses didn't assign much homework, given they were intended for remedial students, and Harry couldn't spend every moment outside of class with her. There was only so much reading she could do in the library, and her social circle at the moment consisted solely of Luna, Hermione, and her boyfriend.

She missed being able to relax, to throw on a pair of pyjamas and lounge in bed. Or hearing her roommates gossip, the sensation of feeling comfortable in a crowd rather than on edge.

All of the isolation was starting to drive her a bit mad, if she was being honest. Daphne couldn't hold back a rueful smile at the way she and Luna had exchanged roles - what would be her nickname? 'Daft-nee'?

Wasn't all that catchy, she silently mused.

"I've got it!" Luna said, startling her out of her rambling thoughts. "Come on!"

"What?"

"Come on, let's go! I've got something to show you!"

Luna was pulling at her hand, trying to drag her to her feet. "Wait, give me just a moment," Daphne protested, lifting up her bag and patting her pockets to ensure her shrunken trunk was still safe. "Okay, what's your hurry?"

"You'll see!" was Luna's only reply, and they made their way back to the castle.

As they climbed the Grand Staircase, Daphne slowed down. "Are you taking me to Ravenclaw Tower? I don't think that's a good idea, I don't want you to get in trouble."

"No! Don't worry, we won't get in trouble. Come on!"

Luna led her down a largely deserted corridor on the seventh floor. Various portraits hanging from the walls greeted them, with many a "Hello, Luna!" and "Good day, Miss Lovegood!" heard as they walked along.

In the middle of an unremarkable stretch of the hallway, next to a blank portion of the wall, Luna came to a halt, turned around, walked a few steps, then repeated that action again and again. Daphne opened her mouth to ask if she was alright when a door suddenly appeared where there most assuredly had not been one before.

"Uh, what is this?"

Luna pulled the door open, gesturing for Daphne to step inside. "This is where we had our meetings last year."

Daphne took a cautious step inside, feeling more confused than ever. "But- isn't this, uh, your room?" She looked behind her, and sure enough, there was Hogwarts outside the door. "Did you transfigure part of the castle to look like your house?"

"No, silly!" Luna giggled madly, as though the suggestion were ludicrous. "This is what I asked the Room to be!"

Walking over to the bed, Daphne carefully tested the mattress with her hand, making certain it was real before taking a seat. "You talk to the castle?" It wasn't the most insane thing she'd heard, but it was up there.

"No, no, no. The Room can be anything!" Luna squeezed her eyes shut, and a few moments later the walls of her bedroom began to blur, transforming in an instant into the courtyard where Longbottom celebrated his birthday, with Luna's bed still in the center. "See?"

"This is- it's amazing!" Daphne breathed. "I've never seen magic like this before!"

"Here, let me show you how it works." They walked back out to the corridor, and Luna explained the method of summoning the Room. "You have to picture what you really need."

Daphne thought for a moment, and then - feeling like a fool - walked back and forth three times in front of the blank wall. A door appeared.

Luna bounced over, excitedly reaching for the door handle, then paused and looked over. "Is it alright? I mean- can I…?"

"Sure," she said softly. "Go ahead."

The door opened, and they stepped inside to a large room, walls painted a light blue colour, with carpet so thick their shoes sank into the plush fabric. Sunlight, so real Daphne could swear she felt the warmth, shined through a picturesque window, the rays of light falling over two twin beds that were pushed together. It was just as she remembered, all those mornings, laying together and talking for hours.

Astoria's first room, before she'd fallen ill.

"Oh!" Luna said, taking in the layout she'd created. "Are we having another sleepover?"

After a long, shaky inhalation, Daphne gave her a watery smile. "I think I'd like that."

A/N: Ugh! This one took forever - I planned to put out a chapter on Monday, but in the end split it into two parts. The 'other half' of this chapter (which was supposed to be all of the first term of Sixth Year), will be jumping forward with time skips, and I didn't want to have half one chapter be the first week of school, and the second half of the SAME chapter be four *months* of school. So, two chapters it is.

We're rapidly approaching the 'peak'. Next chapter will be coming out pretty soon - I plan to update AMR before any of my other fics. Since deadlines apparently are hard for me, I'll throw out a general estimate and say I hope to have it pubbed by the weekend.

In the meantime, since I last updated Malignant Ruse, I have also put out:

A Straight Flush, chapter 6 (Harry/Fleur, dimension-traveler)

Burying the Lede, chapter 1 (Harry/Mandy, mystery/romance)

No Kindness is Wasted, bonus material (Harry/Demelza, teen romance)

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles