Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Duality
The Lack of Filter
HBP AU. Being a teenager is difficult enough; add slightly hostile best friends, nefarious plots, the Dark Lord, and house rivalries into the mix. A story about enlightenment, growing up, and getti...
?Blocked
Author’s Note: Thanks so much for the ratings! I’m glad someone’s actually reading this. I haven’t written Harry’s point of view in nearly forever (I stray toward Tom Riddle and Hermione’s POV most often) so I was kind of iffy on it. I’ll keep this short and get on with the fic; thank you for reading!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own the rights to Harry Potter and related apocrypha. It's all JK's. I simply solemnly swear I'm up to no good with this innocent bit of fun.
Duality: The Lack of Filter
oOo
At breakfast, Ron was tremendously quiet toward him and Hermione kept grinning like an idiot over her eggs every time Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table, briefly. Daphne was sitting next to Blaise Zabini, which made him lean over toward the bushy haired brunette and ask, “So, how did last night go with Zabini?”
Hermione snorted. “He wouldn’t say a word to me until Slughorn got involved. But he didn’t insult me or anything; we just talked about homework the whole time. He’s quite good at Arithmancy but that shouldn’t be any surprise. He’s second best in our class.”
“He has to be pretty peeved off that he gets beat out by a Muggleborn witch every year,” Harry commented with a grin, spreading jam over his toast, glancing up at the Slytherin boy next to Daphne. She was talking quite animatedly with him until she rolled her eyes and got out her silver case, passing it to Zabini. Then, her eyes met his across the room as if she had detected him staring at her.
Harry quickly looked down at his plate, hoping he wasn’t spotted staring by anyone else. His grin widened. “Guess she’s not the only one who smokes,” he muttered aloud, almost an afterthought.
He thought back to Daphne’s words before she dragged him up those infernal stairs. Zabini was definitely a pureblood, he was certain of it. Why would he… do something that’s frowned upon?
Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed when he looked up at her. “What?”
“Zabini, silver case,” he murmured, glancing out of the corner of his eye toward Ron, who was chatting with Lavender about Quidditch.
“Right,” he heard Hermione grumble in disapproval. “Nasty habit.”
Harry just smiled in response.
He didn’t even realize that he had Quidditch practice that morning until Ginny accosted him in the corridors after breakfast. He was too occupied with reflecting upon last night to even think about Quidditch practice. He’d rescheduled the one they were supposed to have yesterday night because their two beaters had been recovering in the Hospital Wing from some nasty hexes – compliments of the Slytherin Quidditch team.
A practice without beaters never went well.
But practice didn’t go any better than the last one. Ron had some major mental issues to get over and the fact that he and Dean weren’t getting on well made matters worse. Ginny’s boyfriend always came to watch them practice, so what? Hermione often came to practices and Ron didn’t mind. He could at least keep his resentment off the Quidditch pitch and stop glaring at Ginny every time she approached him. Ron always lost it though, and Ginny wasn’t even being challenged by his defense. The Quaffle sailed straight into the hoop without Ron even noticing.
When he walked out of the Gryffindor locker rooms with Ron, he spotted Daphne about twenty metres away, leaning against one of the pitch supports, a cigarette dangling from her fingertips, and looking in his direction. Giving her a small grin, he turned to Ron. “I’ll see you later, I have to…. go,” he said awkwardly, trying to find an excuse but not thinking of any. He was planning to work on his Transfiguration paper after practice, but he could always get that done later.
Ron’s brows furrowed. “Oh.” Then the red-haired boy must have spotted Daphne because his lip curled. “Oh, have to go snog your girlfriend?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Ron, I have to go snog the life out her.”
“Well don’t let me stop you.” Ron glowered and his shoulders slumped as he walked off toward the castle, grumbling.
Just brilliant, another ruddy thing to deal with.
Harry sighed and ambled over to where Daphne was standing, stubbing her cigarette out with her boot. “What’s wrong?” she asked when he approached.
“Ron’s being a right git, as per usual,” he explained, glancing over his shoulder at ‘said’ git, who was watching them. He’d obviously decided against stalking back to the castle.
“I see that. So he… knows?” Daphne drawled, raising an eyebrow.
Harry fervently shook his head. “He’d probably kill me.” He paused and gestured toward the locker rooms. “How about we go in there and talk.”
“Alright.”
After they entered, he quickly shut the door and cast a few charms on it so no one could get in or hear their conversation. Daphne took off her robe, but he saw that she was wearing less… tantalizing clothes than she was last night. He’d never seen a Slytherin in denim before, but then he remembered that she was a halfblood as well, so that would explain the Muggle attire.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asked, sitting across from her on one of the benches.
“What made you think I wanted to talk?”
“Well, you were waiting for me, so obviously you wanted something,” he replied, leaning back on his hands.
“Just wanted to see you, I guess. We didn’t have much of a chance to talk.” Daphne smirked and crossed one leg over the other.
“That’s not my fault. You basically assaulted me.”
“That wasn’t exactly my idea in the first place,” she said with a faint smile. “But, you have to admit, it was definitely worth it. I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner.”
Harry swallowed thickly. “Sooner?”
“Yeah. Like a year or so ago. Never got the chance. You’re always around your friends and I could only imagine the reaction I’d get from everyone – your house and mine – if I went up to you and asked ‘hey, Potter, fancy a shag?’”
Spluttering, Harry managed a laugh. “No, that wouldn’t have gone over well. Ron would have a coronary. I’d probably just… not respond. I don’t really know how to deal with girls.” He grinned sheepishly.
“Exactly, but you’re better with girls than you think.” Daphne nodded, her gaze dropping to his lips then back up to his eyes.
“You’re just… being nice.” Merlin, it felt weird saying that to a Slytherin. Not all Slytherins could be bad though. She was definitely proving that.
“It’s true,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You just don’t know it. You’re like one of the most insecure blokes I know from what I have to go on.”
“Well, you’re very… forward.” He didn’t think he was that insecure. Just when it came to girls because he really had no idea what he was doing most of the time.
“They say opposites attract.”
“I probably wouldn’t have thought much of you if you hadn’t…” he looked for the proper term, “asserted yourself.”
Daphne gave a short laugh. “Good things come to those who wait for the opportune moment.”
Harry just grinned. She looked really nice when she smiled.
“So, I suppose we should get to know each other better since we shagged and everything. Have any hobbies besides Dark Lord hunting?” she drawled, with an amiable smile splashed across her face.
“Erm…” Harry trailed off. “No, I think that pretty much covers it,” he said dryly. “My day’s not complete without uncovering some nefarious plot, overcoming vast odds, and defeating evil.”
“Typical,” Daphne remarked.
“How about you?”
“I don’t do much, to be honest. I’m really boring in comparison to you.”
“There has to be something you do for fun though,” Harry said, encouraging her to speak. He didn’t want to spend the whole time talking about him.
“Well,” she started, worrying at her bottom lip. “I read, study, do all the archetypal academic activities. I’m a dab hand at potions too; better watch your back in class.” Harry grinned. He didn’t have to watch his back; he had the Prince to do it for him. “Oh and I go racing every once in a while with a few friends, I guess.”
“Racing?” Harry’s brow furrowed. “What do you race?” He’d heard of Muggle car races, there was no way that Daphne could leave the school to do that.
“Broom racing, round the school. I’ve gotten a few detentions over the years but it’s bloody good fun,” she explained with a wide smile. “You should come with me some time.” Daphne paused, looking him up and down. “That is, if you’re any good on that broom of yours.”
Harry scoffed. “I’ll have you know that I’m plenty good and-” a slow smile spread across his lips “-I’ll probably kick your arse.”
“We’ll see about that.” Daphne reached into her pocket and pulled out her infamous silver case, she held it out to him after readying her fag.
Harry shook his head. “Probably shouldn’t, Hermione got all over me because I smelled like smoke last night.”
“Ah.” Daphne snapped the case closed. “She’s quite observant.”
“Too observant,” Harry corrected with a nod of his head. “She forced it out of me that we shagged. Too much evidence against me.”
“She knows about this?”
Harry nodded. “Yes. Thankfully, Hermione just let it go with some rather… embarrassing questions.”
“That’s a relief. I’d never hear the end of it from Blaise if it got ‘round school. She can keep a secret, right?” Daphne looked uneasy at this information.
“Of course,” he assured, thinking about last night. “I’ve a feeling she’s keeping secrets of her own.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”
“She said I ‘definitely smelled like sex’ and it just made me wonder…” he said distantly, thinking of the conversation. What did she mean? Then again, she was a Prefect, maybe she had caught people at it before and smelled it.
“Hm. Maybe she’s not as much of a prude as I thought.”
“Oi, she’s my friend,” Harry countered quickly.
Daphne shrugged in response. “Sorry. I don’t come with a filter.”
“I’ve sort of noticed.”
Smiling, Daphne leaned back, which made her shirt pull taught across her chest, the button holes threatening to pop open. It distracted Harry for a moment, but he resolutely looked back up at her face. They lulled into a comfortable silence. She stared, a small smirk on her face.
She really was quite pretty.
Her eyes crinkled at the corners, narrowing slightly, as her smirk widened. “Like what you see, Harry?”
He stuttered, his eyes traveling down her form, then quickly back of up to her face. “I- yes,” he managed to say, a slight flush creeping up his neck.
“Good.”
Before he knew it, Daphne had crossed the two feet of space between them and slid onto his lap. Her face was only an inch away from his and he could feel her breath against his lips. He threw caution to the wind and leaned up to kiss her, crushing her to him with his hands on her back. This was the best part of their conversation so far. Harry’s nerves tingled all the way to his toes.
It didn’t take her long to pull away, a few inches, still comfortably straddling his lap and sill smirking that sexy-smooth smirk of hers. “I really like this arrangement. Talk then snog,” she said. “It’s perfect.”
Harry gave a lopsided grin. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Helps that I’ve always had a thing for you in your Quidditch uniform.”
Daphne closed the gap again, not coming up for air until absolutely necessary, her tongue dancing against his in ways that made his mind whirl. Harry moved his lips across her jaw when she pulled away, gasping. He breathed deeply in between peppering kisses over her neck. His hands slid down from their place on the small of her back to cup her arse.
Moaning, she pulled away from him. “We probably should stop or else we’ll be late for lunch.”
Harry looked up at her and smiled. “I honestly can’t say I’m hungry.”
“Me neither.”
Daphne pulled him in for another kiss and, fortunately, that little protesting voice in his head never interrupted once.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own the rights to Harry Potter and related apocrypha. It's all JK's. I simply solemnly swear I'm up to no good with this innocent bit of fun.
Duality: The Lack of Filter
oOo
At breakfast, Ron was tremendously quiet toward him and Hermione kept grinning like an idiot over her eggs every time Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table, briefly. Daphne was sitting next to Blaise Zabini, which made him lean over toward the bushy haired brunette and ask, “So, how did last night go with Zabini?”
Hermione snorted. “He wouldn’t say a word to me until Slughorn got involved. But he didn’t insult me or anything; we just talked about homework the whole time. He’s quite good at Arithmancy but that shouldn’t be any surprise. He’s second best in our class.”
“He has to be pretty peeved off that he gets beat out by a Muggleborn witch every year,” Harry commented with a grin, spreading jam over his toast, glancing up at the Slytherin boy next to Daphne. She was talking quite animatedly with him until she rolled her eyes and got out her silver case, passing it to Zabini. Then, her eyes met his across the room as if she had detected him staring at her.
Harry quickly looked down at his plate, hoping he wasn’t spotted staring by anyone else. His grin widened. “Guess she’s not the only one who smokes,” he muttered aloud, almost an afterthought.
He thought back to Daphne’s words before she dragged him up those infernal stairs. Zabini was definitely a pureblood, he was certain of it. Why would he… do something that’s frowned upon?
Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed when he looked up at her. “What?”
“Zabini, silver case,” he murmured, glancing out of the corner of his eye toward Ron, who was chatting with Lavender about Quidditch.
“Right,” he heard Hermione grumble in disapproval. “Nasty habit.”
Harry just smiled in response.
He didn’t even realize that he had Quidditch practice that morning until Ginny accosted him in the corridors after breakfast. He was too occupied with reflecting upon last night to even think about Quidditch practice. He’d rescheduled the one they were supposed to have yesterday night because their two beaters had been recovering in the Hospital Wing from some nasty hexes – compliments of the Slytherin Quidditch team.
A practice without beaters never went well.
But practice didn’t go any better than the last one. Ron had some major mental issues to get over and the fact that he and Dean weren’t getting on well made matters worse. Ginny’s boyfriend always came to watch them practice, so what? Hermione often came to practices and Ron didn’t mind. He could at least keep his resentment off the Quidditch pitch and stop glaring at Ginny every time she approached him. Ron always lost it though, and Ginny wasn’t even being challenged by his defense. The Quaffle sailed straight into the hoop without Ron even noticing.
When he walked out of the Gryffindor locker rooms with Ron, he spotted Daphne about twenty metres away, leaning against one of the pitch supports, a cigarette dangling from her fingertips, and looking in his direction. Giving her a small grin, he turned to Ron. “I’ll see you later, I have to…. go,” he said awkwardly, trying to find an excuse but not thinking of any. He was planning to work on his Transfiguration paper after practice, but he could always get that done later.
Ron’s brows furrowed. “Oh.” Then the red-haired boy must have spotted Daphne because his lip curled. “Oh, have to go snog your girlfriend?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Ron, I have to go snog the life out her.”
“Well don’t let me stop you.” Ron glowered and his shoulders slumped as he walked off toward the castle, grumbling.
Just brilliant, another ruddy thing to deal with.
Harry sighed and ambled over to where Daphne was standing, stubbing her cigarette out with her boot. “What’s wrong?” she asked when he approached.
“Ron’s being a right git, as per usual,” he explained, glancing over his shoulder at ‘said’ git, who was watching them. He’d obviously decided against stalking back to the castle.
“I see that. So he… knows?” Daphne drawled, raising an eyebrow.
Harry fervently shook his head. “He’d probably kill me.” He paused and gestured toward the locker rooms. “How about we go in there and talk.”
“Alright.”
After they entered, he quickly shut the door and cast a few charms on it so no one could get in or hear their conversation. Daphne took off her robe, but he saw that she was wearing less… tantalizing clothes than she was last night. He’d never seen a Slytherin in denim before, but then he remembered that she was a halfblood as well, so that would explain the Muggle attire.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asked, sitting across from her on one of the benches.
“What made you think I wanted to talk?”
“Well, you were waiting for me, so obviously you wanted something,” he replied, leaning back on his hands.
“Just wanted to see you, I guess. We didn’t have much of a chance to talk.” Daphne smirked and crossed one leg over the other.
“That’s not my fault. You basically assaulted me.”
“That wasn’t exactly my idea in the first place,” she said with a faint smile. “But, you have to admit, it was definitely worth it. I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner.”
Harry swallowed thickly. “Sooner?”
“Yeah. Like a year or so ago. Never got the chance. You’re always around your friends and I could only imagine the reaction I’d get from everyone – your house and mine – if I went up to you and asked ‘hey, Potter, fancy a shag?’”
Spluttering, Harry managed a laugh. “No, that wouldn’t have gone over well. Ron would have a coronary. I’d probably just… not respond. I don’t really know how to deal with girls.” He grinned sheepishly.
“Exactly, but you’re better with girls than you think.” Daphne nodded, her gaze dropping to his lips then back up to his eyes.
“You’re just… being nice.” Merlin, it felt weird saying that to a Slytherin. Not all Slytherins could be bad though. She was definitely proving that.
“It’s true,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You just don’t know it. You’re like one of the most insecure blokes I know from what I have to go on.”
“Well, you’re very… forward.” He didn’t think he was that insecure. Just when it came to girls because he really had no idea what he was doing most of the time.
“They say opposites attract.”
“I probably wouldn’t have thought much of you if you hadn’t…” he looked for the proper term, “asserted yourself.”
Daphne gave a short laugh. “Good things come to those who wait for the opportune moment.”
Harry just grinned. She looked really nice when she smiled.
“So, I suppose we should get to know each other better since we shagged and everything. Have any hobbies besides Dark Lord hunting?” she drawled, with an amiable smile splashed across her face.
“Erm…” Harry trailed off. “No, I think that pretty much covers it,” he said dryly. “My day’s not complete without uncovering some nefarious plot, overcoming vast odds, and defeating evil.”
“Typical,” Daphne remarked.
“How about you?”
“I don’t do much, to be honest. I’m really boring in comparison to you.”
“There has to be something you do for fun though,” Harry said, encouraging her to speak. He didn’t want to spend the whole time talking about him.
“Well,” she started, worrying at her bottom lip. “I read, study, do all the archetypal academic activities. I’m a dab hand at potions too; better watch your back in class.” Harry grinned. He didn’t have to watch his back; he had the Prince to do it for him. “Oh and I go racing every once in a while with a few friends, I guess.”
“Racing?” Harry’s brow furrowed. “What do you race?” He’d heard of Muggle car races, there was no way that Daphne could leave the school to do that.
“Broom racing, round the school. I’ve gotten a few detentions over the years but it’s bloody good fun,” she explained with a wide smile. “You should come with me some time.” Daphne paused, looking him up and down. “That is, if you’re any good on that broom of yours.”
Harry scoffed. “I’ll have you know that I’m plenty good and-” a slow smile spread across his lips “-I’ll probably kick your arse.”
“We’ll see about that.” Daphne reached into her pocket and pulled out her infamous silver case, she held it out to him after readying her fag.
Harry shook his head. “Probably shouldn’t, Hermione got all over me because I smelled like smoke last night.”
“Ah.” Daphne snapped the case closed. “She’s quite observant.”
“Too observant,” Harry corrected with a nod of his head. “She forced it out of me that we shagged. Too much evidence against me.”
“She knows about this?”
Harry nodded. “Yes. Thankfully, Hermione just let it go with some rather… embarrassing questions.”
“That’s a relief. I’d never hear the end of it from Blaise if it got ‘round school. She can keep a secret, right?” Daphne looked uneasy at this information.
“Of course,” he assured, thinking about last night. “I’ve a feeling she’s keeping secrets of her own.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”
“She said I ‘definitely smelled like sex’ and it just made me wonder…” he said distantly, thinking of the conversation. What did she mean? Then again, she was a Prefect, maybe she had caught people at it before and smelled it.
“Hm. Maybe she’s not as much of a prude as I thought.”
“Oi, she’s my friend,” Harry countered quickly.
Daphne shrugged in response. “Sorry. I don’t come with a filter.”
“I’ve sort of noticed.”
Smiling, Daphne leaned back, which made her shirt pull taught across her chest, the button holes threatening to pop open. It distracted Harry for a moment, but he resolutely looked back up at her face. They lulled into a comfortable silence. She stared, a small smirk on her face.
She really was quite pretty.
Her eyes crinkled at the corners, narrowing slightly, as her smirk widened. “Like what you see, Harry?”
He stuttered, his eyes traveling down her form, then quickly back of up to her face. “I- yes,” he managed to say, a slight flush creeping up his neck.
“Good.”
Before he knew it, Daphne had crossed the two feet of space between them and slid onto his lap. Her face was only an inch away from his and he could feel her breath against his lips. He threw caution to the wind and leaned up to kiss her, crushing her to him with his hands on her back. This was the best part of their conversation so far. Harry’s nerves tingled all the way to his toes.
It didn’t take her long to pull away, a few inches, still comfortably straddling his lap and sill smirking that sexy-smooth smirk of hers. “I really like this arrangement. Talk then snog,” she said. “It’s perfect.”
Harry gave a lopsided grin. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Helps that I’ve always had a thing for you in your Quidditch uniform.”
Daphne closed the gap again, not coming up for air until absolutely necessary, her tongue dancing against his in ways that made his mind whirl. Harry moved his lips across her jaw when she pulled away, gasping. He breathed deeply in between peppering kisses over her neck. His hands slid down from their place on the small of her back to cup her arse.
Moaning, she pulled away from him. “We probably should stop or else we’ll be late for lunch.”
Harry looked up at her and smiled. “I honestly can’t say I’m hungry.”
“Me neither.”
Daphne pulled him in for another kiss and, fortunately, that little protesting voice in his head never interrupted once.
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