Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Duality
Blaise Zabini and Opals
HBP AU. It's hard enough being a teenager; add awkward situations, nefarious plots, the Dark Lord, and house rivalries into the mix. A story about enlightenment, growing up, and getting over yourse...
?Blocked
Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! This chapter is rather long so I hope you enjoy it! There is a reference is at the bottom of the page (you will see a little 1 next to the things referenced).
Disclaimer: I'm definitely going to hell. I've paraphrased some dialogue by JK, eliminated droves of exclamation points, and made a screwed up AU version of her scene! No, I don't own it. I've accepted that. I only own Daphne's personality since she wasn't elaborated upon in the books. But I don't own her as a character. That's so weird. Anyway. This is all JK's and Warner Bros. stuff. It's theirs. I simply borrow things for fun. Yay. Additionally, no copyright infringement intended.
Duality: Blaise Zabini and Opals
oOo
Daphne was sitting at a table at the Hog’s Head with Zabini when he arrived, slipping in after the barman, under his invisibility cloak. The pub’s customary stench of, what seemed to be, goats hit him by surprise. It must have gotten worse in the last year. Harry stood in front of Daphne and Zabini’s table, invisible, watching them and shifting nervously on his feet.
“Well there is a little reason why we’re here.”
Zabini quirked an eyebrow.
Daphne rolled her eyes.
“You know how I’ve been skipping lunch a lot lately?”
The dark Slytherin boy nodded.
“I want you to meet the person I’ve been seeing and I want you to keep an open mind.” That sounded more like an order than anything.
Zabini leaned back in his chair, his fingers dancing around the edge of his snifter of, what Harry supposed to be, an alcoholic beverage. “As I assume you wish to keep this a secret, since you dragged me to this awful establishment-” he paused, a menacing grin spreading across his face, “-what’s in it for me?”
“Knew you were going to say that.” Daphne took a sip of her Firewhiskey. “I assure you, if you open your mind and play nice, it’ll be mutually beneficial. For all of us.”
The Slytherin boy’s eyes narrowed.
“And, if you don’t play nice, I’ll just obliviate you and you won’t even remember having met this person, nor will you remember this conversation,” she spoke in a cool business tone, smirking toward a slightly contemptuous Zabini.
Harry’s brows furrowed, but he figured that he was safe enough to reveal himself and possibly not get hexed on spot. He wasn’t expecting Zabini to be there on his supposed ‘date’, of all people. So, taking a deep breath, trying to gain a bit of confidence, he pulled the cloak off to the side.
Neither of them flinched as he was revealed, as if they expected that he was there the whole time, which was rather disappointing. He was hoping to get some sort of reaction out of Daphne, but she just grinned. Zabini’s eyes narrowed further into icy, calculating slits.
“Glad you could make it,” Daphne said, gesturing to the chair next to her and sliding a glass of Firewhiskey over to him. “I don’t know what you drink, so I got the standard.”
“Erm-” Harry stared hesitantly at the glass and took his seat, avoiding Zabini’s gaze. “Thanks, Daphne.”
“Potter,” Zabini’s deep voice rumbled from the other side of the table. Harry looked up and the boy gave him a curt nod.
“Zabini.” Harry nodded back with a wary look.
The Slytherin boy turned toward Daphne. “So you’re… fucking Potter?”
Harry’s neck burned from the flush that was creeping up over his skin. Without any hesitation, he downed the Firewhiskey in one gulp, grimacing slightly at the burn as it went down.
“Among other things,” Daphne replied, reaching into the pocket of her deep green cloak and removing her silver case.
The way Zabini was eyeing him, Harry felt incredibly uneasy. What was Zabini to Daphne? A friend? Or was he more like a big brother, like Ron, who wished to beat the seven shades of shit out of Dean every time Dean came in from snogging Ron’s sister? Of course, if that were the case, then the situation Harry was in was exponentially worse, considering that he and Daphne went far past snogging the first night they met. That wouldn’t bode well at all.
“I see.” Zabini slid the silver case toward himself with a sigh. “And here I was concerned that you got yourself back with that Smith bastard.”
“Bastard’s about right,” Harry concurred, thinking of the annoying blonde Hufflepuff, who seemed to cause trouble for the hell of it.
Pausing from lighting his cigarette, Zabini’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Well, I believe we’ve found something we agree on,” he drawled around the fag.
Harry grinned. Smith bashing was one thing he didn’t mind doing – too bad Snape bashing was out of the question, or they’d be there all night. Daphne passed the silver case to him; he plucked a cigarette from the confines, joining them, and grabbing another glass of Firewhiskey from the selection of drinks lined up about the table.
“Harry’s not as bad as you think, Blaise, you just have to get to know him better,” Daphne said, smoke trickling out her lips as she spoke.
Looking doubtful, Zabini shrugged one shoulder.
Harry stared at both of the Slytherins apprehensively, sipping his Firewhiskey and waiting for the nicotine buzz to hit.
“Fine.” Zabini seemed to shrink a little upon relenting. But his aloof aura didn’t disappear for a second as he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaled, and blew a smoke ring toward the Gryffindor boy, looking uninterested with the whole affair. “I’ll keep an open mind,” his detached voice articulated.
The trio at the table was silent for a while, the quiet sounds of an almost empty pub settling around them. Harry drew deeply on his cigarette, finally feeling the nicotine buzz kick in, and he settled back into his chair, throwing a lopsided grin toward Daphne.
The bell on the door to the Hog’s Head jingled as it opened and Harry was abruptly torn out of his buzz when he noticed Zabini stiffen and glare over Harry’s shoulder. Please don’t let it be Ron, please don’t let it be Ron…
“Hey, Potter.” He heard the distinct voice of Zacharias Smith and mumbled a curse. Merlin, say his name once and he appears? Harry turned slowly, glancing over his right shoulder. “Zabini.” Smith nodded politely toward the Slytherin boy and turned his eyes on Daphne, leering. “Greengrass.”
Harry stared at the blonde-haired Hufflepuff. “What do you want, Smith?” Daphne asked sharply, her piercing gaze boring into him.
“Clearly, I’m here for a drink, but this is so much more interesting,” Smith replied with a, somewhat, maniacal grin. “So which one are you ‘seeing’, Potter? Or did Weasley forget to say ‘Slytherin‘s’’ when he announced it to the Great Hall?”
Harry rolled his eyes, glancing back at Zabini, who looked torn between being disgusted or murderous, his lip curled severely. “I’m not seeing multiple Slytherins, Smith,” Harry replied, calmly, his nose wrinkling in annoyance as he downed the rest of his second Firewhiskey.
“Ah, wonderful,” Smith commented with an odd glint in his eyes. “Then you won’t mind me asking Greengrass here to join me for a drink.”
Stiffening, Harry felt the urge to glare and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his empty glass. Smith and Malfoy – there was no difference between them at all.
“Not on your life,” Daphne responded coldly.
Zabini was as still as a statue, glaring daggers at the Hufflepuff. It didn’t even look as if he were breathing. A long cherry grew at the tip of the cigarette between his fingers as it burnt down.
“I could make it worth your while,” Smith leered suggestively, goading Harry even further. Hexing him right about now sounded terribly satisfying.
“You couldn’t make it worth it for the fucking Giant Squid.” Daphne smirked, leaning back in her chair, taking the last drag on her cigarette.
Smith sneered. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“Didn’t even deserve a response.”
The Hufflepuff boy’s cheeks flamed red and he glared at the girl. “Stuck up bitch,” he muttered, his narrowed eyes grazing over each member of the unusual trio. “Whoring yourself out to Potter now, eh?”
Harry started to get up, his hand curled into a fist, longing to brain him – forget hexing the bastard! – but Daphne pulled at his sleeve and he settled back down into his chair.
The nerve of that prat!
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daphne stated smoothly.
A tight scoff spilled through Smith’s lips. “It’s obvious, Greengrass. You’ll spread your legs for anyone. Boy Wonder worth your while? Or maybe it’s Zabini who you’re after – trying to make him jealous by slagging yourself arou-”
A jet of red light cut off Smith’s callous rant and the boy fell backwards to the floor in a heap of tangled Hufflepuff robes.
Harry looked back at Zabini, who had his wand out. The Slytherin stared at the stunned body with little interest as he tucked his wand back up his sleeve. “Much better,” Zabini said with a satisfied smirk.
Daphne grabbed Harry’s sleeve again, willing him to follow, and they got up from the table. Harry had the urge to kick the Hufflepuff while he was down as they stood around the boy. Removing her wand from her robe pocket, Daphne pointed it at Smith. “Obliviate,” she whispered and the boy’s memories of the past conversation completely erased.
Harry relaxed a little.
“Make yourself useful, Potter,” Zabini uttered, struggling to lift the weight of the tall lanky Hufflepuff as he bent down to pick him up. Harry hesitated, his brows furrowing, but he reached in and grabbed the back of the boy’s robes anyway. They hauled him upright, distributing the weight between them.
“What are we going to do with him?”
Zabini and Daphne didn’t answer as Harry was led toward the bar, helping the Slytherin boy drag Smith along with them. The grizzled-looking barman raised his eyebrows as they approached. “Can I help you?” he asked in a gruff voice.
When Zabini plopped Smith’s limp body onto a stool at the bar, Harry stumbled, grabbing onto the edge of another stool to keep from tipping over onto the grubby floor. He glared at the Slytherin boy, who was brushing off his robes and smoothing over the fabric. Zabini brought out his wand and did a quick scourgify over his robes.
Ponce, Harry thought, but paused in the middle of rolling his eyes to look back over at Zabini and Daphne bewilderedly.
How was it even possible that those two could do magic outside of Hogwarts without having a Ministry Owl flocking down to attack them? Were they of age already? He reminded himself to ask when Daphne’s birthday was, just to check.
“Could you take care of him? He’s been quite the nuisance,” Daphne asked politely, passing – what Harry believed to be – a satchel full of Galleons toward the barman.
The old man looked over at the blonde Hufflepuff. “Obliviation, I presume?”
“I’d rather that be kept between the two of us, Mr. Dumbledore.”
Harry blinked. Mr. Dumbledore? He narrowed his eyes toward the old barman. There… was a resemblance between him and the headmaster. They must have been related somehow – Harry wasn’t even aware that Dumbledore had family this close to the school. He’d always looked strikingly familiar though, he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“No worries, Greengrass,” Mr. Dumbledore assured, “all swept under the rug.”
“Brilliant.”
Harry looked between Daphne and Zabini, then to Mr. Dumbledore confoundedly. “Come on, Harry – got to go before he enervates Smith.” Daphne swiftly grabbed the sleeve of his arm and pulled him along out the bar. Harry faintly paid attention to the jingle of the door closing before removing himself from Daphne’s grasp.
“Mr. Dumbledore?” he asked incredulously.
The two Slytherins stopped and turned toward him. “Yeah. Aberforth Dumbledore,” Daphne answered, her forehead crinkled a bit at the centre.
“Aberforth Dumbledore?” He was a part of the old Order of the Phoenix – Dumbledore’s brother! That’s why the old barman looked so familiar – he was in that picture he had in his album.
Daphne raised an eyebrow while Zabini simply stood there indifferently, his arms crossed over his chest. “Yes, Harry. Aberforth Dumbledore,” she repeated slowly, as if he didn’t understand what she was saying. “Decent bloke.”
He followed them blankly, deep in thought.
Dumbledore never mentioned his brother – ever. Considering Aberforth was so close to the school wouldn’t they see each other often…?
Well, not all families were as close as the Weasleys. Maybe Aberforth was a lot like Percy, except the opposite? Percy ran off to the Ministry and was vastly different from the rest of his family; and – if Harry wasn’t mistaken – he’d heard something about Aberforth and goats before. No wonder the pub reeked of them. But Dumbledore’s family could have been more like Percy…
Harry shook his head, his forehead hurt from being creased for so long.
The three walked along, avoiding the High Street of Hogsmeade where most of the students were running around. Harry thought of taking out his invisibility cloak and throwing it around him, but the path they were on was very deserted.
He wondered what Ron and Hermione were doing. He had left them at Honeydukes while Ron emptied his pockets for a huge pile of Chocolate Frog Cards, desperate to finally get Agrippa to complete his collection. They were probably at The Three Broomsticks wondering where he was, and he felt a brief guilty twinge burn through his stomach. Even if Ron was being a prat and not exactly talking to him, he still felt guilty for ditching them.
“Is anyone going to say anything?” Daphne asked, glancing at the both of them on either side of her, quirking an eyebrow. The snow that was falling down collected in her dark hair.
“I dunno,” Harry replied, grinning. “What do you want me to say?”
He noticed that Zabini seemed to be off in his own world as he looked over at them.
“Anything – I’m not very fond of silence.”
Then why would she be friends with Zabini? It didn’t seem as if he spoke that often.
Harry was just about to open his mouth to ask her when her birthday was – seeming it quite appropriate as he was curious anyway – when a deafening scream from ahead cut him off. Jolting, Harry whipped his head in that direction.
Were they being attacked?
But how could Death Eater’s know that they had Hogsmeade weekend, they didn’t give them enough time to-
His mind stopped and all fingers pointed toward one thing:
Malfoy.
It had to be Malfoy.
That ruddy bastard was planning something. He must have been itching for a Hogsmeade weekend to come so he could round up the Death Eaters.
Without a second thought, he took off running toward the screaming, grabbing his wand from his back pocket. A hex was on his lips as he came up over a hill, only to stop dead in his tracks, his heart pounding.
No Death Eaters.
Katie Bell was high up in the air, her mouth wide open – screaming and screaming. A dark haired Hufflepuff tried to pull her to the ground, anguished shrieks of half-formed cries of help pouring from her lips. There was something very wrong with Katie… something not right at all. Her eyes were completely blank, unseeing. Harry rushed forward and tugged hard on Katie’s robe with the Hufflepuff girl. ₁
What was wrong with her? Was she cursed?
No one else was around them.
Who could have cursed her?
With one hard tug from the both of them, Katie fell and sprawled out atop them, struggling, painful cries ripped from her throat. They tried to hold on to her but she was writhing too much that they could barely keep their grip. Katie’s arm came in contact with his nose and he winced, his eyes watering. Katie’s squirming increased, she was kicking, her limbs flailing so wildly, they had to let go. ₁
Harry quickly got to his feet and stared from her to the Hufflepuff girl. “What happened?” ₁
“I don’t know! She just started…” the girl broke off into a sob. “I-” ₁
Looking around for anyone who could help, but finding no one, Harry exclaimed over Katie’s screams, “Stay here – I’m going to go get some help!” ₁
He took off running down the path toward Hogwarts, hoping he would run into Professor McGonagall or someone who could stop the curse, at least, on the way. The path was deserted, hundreds of metres of snow-covered land stretched between him and the castle. It had to be the Cruciatus Curse, he thought. But… he’d never seen anything like that before. Whatever hit her… it was horrible.
What could have caused it?
A large human shape appeared at the edge of the path, obscured by the rapidly falling snow that was starting to turn into a furious blizzard. Harry sped up as fast as his legs could carry him. “Hagrid! Hagrid!” he yelled, panting, hoping the half-giant could hear him. ₁
“Harry!” Hagrid boomed, his hair and beaverskin coat covered in a thick sheet of snow. “Jus’ bin visitin’ Grawp, he’s comin’ on so well yeh wouldn’–” ₁
“Hagrid, Katie’s hurt back there – cursed or something –” he yelled over the howling wind of the snowstorm. ₁
“Cursed?” ₁
Harry nodded frantically and then nodded back toward the path. “This way!” ₁
They took off back down the path toward where he had left Katie with the Hufflepuff girl; he hoped that she wasn’t dead by the time they got there. If it was something like the Cruciatus Curse, she’d probably have gone mad by now.
But it took them no time to get there. The girl was leaning over Katie and Zabini and Daphne were standing off to the side, their wands out, inspecting the area. Harry stopped next to them, his lungs burned and his glasses were dusted with sleet, but he could still see enough through him. ₁
“Get back!” Hagrid shouted. “Lemme see her!” ₁
The Hufflepuff girl backed away from Katie, tears running down her face, almost bowling over Zabini as she got out of the half-giant’s way.
Hagrid looked over the twitching and screaming Gryffindor before scooping her up in his arms. Without a glance at the other four people on the path, he took off toward the castle, Katies screams fading with the distance. ₁
Harry caught his breath, looking over at Daphne and Zabini, who were still alert, obviously looking for an attacker. “What happened?” he asked the Hufflepuff girl, who seemed to have calmed down a little bit, but barely. She was practically hysterical before Hagrid took Katie away. “Was she attacked?” ₁
“No. She was carrying a package… and it tore…” The brunette pointed a shaky finger toward a wet and mangled brown-paper package on the ground, split open enough to reveal greenish glitter. ₁
Harry walked forward and crouched down next to it. ₁ He looked up as Zabini and Daphne joined him; their wands prodded at the brown-paper but didn’t go anywhere near the elaborate opal necklace that appeared when Zabini moved a bit of the paper aside.
“I’ve seen that before,” Harry said faintly, trying to remember exactly where. ₁
“I think I have as well… that shop in Knockturn Ally, right? Bargain Burkes or something?” Daphne asked, levitating the necklace out of the package.
Harry nodded. “Borgin and Burkes.”
“Yes, that.” She looked over the necklace. “One hell of a curse on it,” she muttered.
Harry turned back toward the Hufflepuff girl, who was shivering. “How did Katie get hold of this?” He gestured toward the necklace. ₁
“She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a sur¬prise for somebody at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it – then we were arguing… and –” Her eyes widened and her lip quivered. “Oh no, oh no, I bet she’d been Imperiused and I didn’t realize!” ₁
Imperiused? Harry’s brows furrowed. “Did she say who gave it to her?” ₁
“No… she wouldn’t tell me… and I said she was being stupid and not to take it up to school, but she just wouldn’t listen and… and then I tried to grab it from her… and – and-” she wailed, her sobs renewed. ₁
Sighing, Harry stood up, careful not to bump the necklace that Daphne had under control by her wand. Zabini looked quite distant, but that wasn’t anything unusual. Awkwardly, Harry patted the girl’s shoulder, trying to comfort her a bit. He looked over at the other two, who seemed to be having a silent conversation with their eyes; they were staring at each other so intently.
“We better get that up to the school,” Harry interrupted and they both looked at him. ₁
Daphne led the way, levitating the necklace far enough ahead of them so none of them could come in contact with it. Zabini trailed alongside Harry and the Hufflepuff girl, who seemed reluctant to move. She was shivering so much.
The necklace he had seen at Borgin and Burkes years ago. It was in the case that Malfoy was looking at when Harry was hiding from him and his dad. Malfoy must have remembered it. It had to have been Malfoy who gave Katie the cursed necklace – and Imperiused her as well!
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he realised that Zabini was staring at him carefully. “You know who did it.” It wasn’t a question.
Harry hesitated. He was very unsure of Zabini on the subject of Malfoy, especially after what he had seen on the train earlier that year. “Maybe. Do you know who did it?” he asked, hoping Zabini would answer a lot less ambiguously than him.
“I believe we both know who did it,” the Slytherin boy stated evenly. His deep voice carried clearly through the whipping wind of the blizzard.
Harry looked over at the Hufflepuff girl, who was hugging herself as she walked, her sniffs and sobs drowned out by the wind and snow. “It was Malfoy, wasn’t it?” Harry asked, narrowing his eyes toward Zabini.
A smirk spread across his face. “Of course, Potter, who else would be this idiotic?” the Slytherin boy questioned rhetorically, seemingly amused.
“Idiotic?” Harry’s brows furrowed. They were nearing the school; Daphne kept glancing back at them every few metres.
“Even you can’t be that thick to not see it.” Zabini rolled his eyes and Harry’s eyes narrowed further in confusion. “Stirring up trouble. Casting the Imperius Curse on a Gryffindor – of all people – and that high profile necklace. Idiotic actions like that practically scream ‘Draco’,” Zabini elaborated in a bored tone.
Harry sighed. “I know it was Malfoy. I’m not thick.”
Zabini scoffed quietly as they walked up the stairs. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Harry didn’t respond, dropping the subject. He held open the door for the Hufflepuff girl. It wasn’t a good idea to get on Zabini’s bad side when they had more pressing matters to deal with.
“So,” Daphne’s voice echoed through the cavernous entrance hall, “where do we take this thing?” She pointed toward the necklace and raised an eyebrow.
Shifting on his feet, trying to think of what teacher to bring it to, he almost sighed in relief when Professor McGonagall bounded down the stairs. “Potter!” she called, advancing upon them. “Miss Greengrass, Mr. Zabini!” ₁
The stern Professor looked from student to student in suspicion. “Hagrid says you saw what happened to Katie Bell – upstairs to my office at once, please! What’s that you’re levitating, Miss Greengrass?” she asked, staring at the opal trinket with interest. ₁
“It’s the necklace she touched – it’s cursed,” Harry said, Daphne nodded to back him up. Zabini stood off to the side like dead weight, staring at the group. ₁
“Good lord,” Professor McGonagall breathed. ₁
Filch skittered across the entrance hall holding his Secrecy Sensor in the air with a very eager glint in his dark eyes. “No, no, Filch, they’re with me,” McGonagall said hastily. ₁
McGonagall took off her outer cloak and wrapped it around the necklace as Daphne broke the levitation charm. She handed it to the caretaker. “Take this necklace to Professor Snape at once, but be sure not to touch it, keep it wrapped in the cloak!” ₁
Harry and the others followed Professor McGonagall to her office in silence through the drafty corridors. Her office was just as he remembered it from his Career Advice session with her in fifth year. The blizzard outside wreaked havoc on the windows; they were so white he could barely see anything outside. Harry pulled his damp cloak around tighter, feeling the need for an incredibly hot shower when he got back to his dormitory.
Closing the door, McGonagall swept around to the other side of her desk and stared at the teenagers expectantly. “Well?” she asked sharply. “What happened?” ₁
The Hufflepuff girl related her story, slowly, her sobs interrupting when she came to certain parts. Harry stayed silent, glancing at Zabini and Daphne from time to time. Zabini kept a neutral expression, staying still as a statue, while Daphne shivered slightly, inching closer to the fireplace. ₁
“Alright,” Professor McGonagall said when the girl finished just before she got to the part where Katie had touched the necklace, sobbing uncontrollably and unable to get another word out, “go up to the hospital wing, please, Leanne, and get Madam Pomfrey to give you something for the shock.” ₁
After she left, McGonagall turned back toward Harry and the two Slytherins. “What happened when she touched the necklace?” ₁
“She was in the air,” Harry explained, “I heard her scream and we pulled her down.” He paused, thinking he had to tell someone about Malfoy. “Professor, could I see Professor Dumbledore, please?” ₁
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Daphne’s brows furrow as she looked at him.
“The headmaster is away until Monday, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, her eyes widened slightly. ₁
“Away?” Harry repeated, feeling frustration nipping at the back of his teeth. Dumbledore was always away lately! Harry never got to see him when it actually mattered. ₁
“Yes, Potter, away,” Professor McGonagall replied sternly. “But any¬thing you have to say about this horrible business can be said to me, I’m sure.” ₁
Harry dithered. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Professor McGonagall, but she was much less likely to believe a theory. They had no proof against Malfoy. He knew that Professor Dumbledore would possibly believe him if he told him that Malfoy did it.
Gritting his teeth, he severely hoped that Zabini would back him up. “I think Draco Malfoy gave Katie that necklace, Professor.” ₁
The room was absolutely silent, save for Zabini’s quiet exhalation through his teeth.
“That is a very serious accusation, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said slowly, her eyebrows raised high upon her head. “Do you have any proof?” ₁
“No, but…” Harry looked over toward Zabini, who smirked. Guess he wasn’t going to get any help from him. He couldn’t tell Professor McGonagall that he had followed Malfoy into Borgin and Burkes during the summer and overheard an odd conversation between him and Mr Borgin – well, he could, but not in front of Daphne and Zabini.
“He must have done it.”
Professor McGonagall’s lips pursed. “Mr. Potter, that there is no way Mr. Malfoy could have attacked Katie Bell with that necklace.” ₁
Harry’s mouth fell open. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Daphne and Zabini shared a glance. “How do you know, Professor?” ₁
“He was doing detention with me. He has now failed to complete his Transfiguration homework twice in a row. So, thank you for telling me your suspicion, Potter,” she said, stalking past them toward the door, “but I need to go up to the hospital wing now to check on Katie Bell. Good day to you all.” ₁
As she held open the door, she threw apprehensive glances toward the two Slytherins who lead the way out of the office. Harry sighed dejectedly.
If Katie was supposed to give the necklace to someone, who would be the target?
There were a few people at the school that he knew Death Eaters would target. Dumbledore, probably Slughorn… or even him, but that wasn’t Voldemort’s style. Voldemort wouldn’t order an attack like that on Harry. He seemed to enjoy direct confrontation when it came to him. But if it wasn’t Malfoy who gave Katie the necklace – and obviously Zabini and Daphne thought it was Malfoy as well, which was pretty damning considering they were in the same house and had to share living quarters – then Malfoy must have had an accomplice, at least. ₁
Daphne snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Harry. Still with us?”
Harry shook his head, blinking out of his reverie. “Malfoy had an accomplice.”
“Obviously,” Zabini deadpanned.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Harry asked, frustrated with the Slytherin boy at the moment for not backing him up. Then again, it was highly typical of him.
“There’s no proof,” Daphne spoke for Zabini in a clipped tone. Zabini gave a curt nod. “We can’t make accusations until there’s proof. It’s the first rule of making accusations.”
There were rules to making accusations? Slytherins were barmy sometimes. Harry merely raised an eyebrow in response.
“So, we’ll just have to get something on him,” Daphne continued with a smirk.
Harry shook his head in disbelief. If there was ever a time that he believed in Luna’s Wrackspurts, it was now.
“Sorry?” Harry wasn’t sure he heard correctly. He thought he had just heard Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin, say that she wanted to find proof against Draco Malfoy, a fellow Slytherin – proof that could very well get him expelled?
“Told you he was thick,” Zabini commented idly, leaning against the wall of the corridor.
Daphne batted at the Slytherin boy’s arm. “Shut up,” she muttered harshly then turned toward Harry. “I know you heard me: We’re going to find proof.”
“I thought you…” He didn’t know how to phrase this, he looked pointedly at Zabini. “Aren’t you his friend or something?”
“Friends – annoyances. Apparently they’re the same difference, considering you and Daph, Potter,” Zabini answered, his eyes shining with obvious mirth.
Harry’s eyes narrowed. Zabini just called him annoying… did that mean that he found Draco Malfoy annoying? “So he’s an annoyance,” he stated.
Zabini just rolled his eyes.
“Stop being such a cock, Blaise,” Daphne interrupted. “Yes. Draco’s an annoying little swot,” she clarified, glancing at Harry.
He knew not to press anything further. This was almost too good to be true. “How do we get proof?”
“Leave it up to us.” Her mouth formed a menacing smirk. “I’ve been waiting to burn Draco for years, I’ll find something. He might have some condemning material lying round his room, so it may be that simple.”
He really hoped so, because if Malfoy was willing to cast the Imperius Curse on someone to get a cursed object into the castle, for whatever intended target, there had to be something worse coming.
Harry had a bad feeling about that. He’d have to keep a keen eye on Malfoy for the time being.
Direct and paraphrased quotes taken from (or Reference):
₁ Rowling, J.K. (2005). Chapter 12: Silver and Opals. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (US edition) (pp. 249-256). New York, NY: Scholastic Inc.
Disclaimer: I'm definitely going to hell. I've paraphrased some dialogue by JK, eliminated droves of exclamation points, and made a screwed up AU version of her scene! No, I don't own it. I've accepted that. I only own Daphne's personality since she wasn't elaborated upon in the books. But I don't own her as a character. That's so weird. Anyway. This is all JK's and Warner Bros. stuff. It's theirs. I simply borrow things for fun. Yay. Additionally, no copyright infringement intended.
Duality: Blaise Zabini and Opals
oOo
Daphne was sitting at a table at the Hog’s Head with Zabini when he arrived, slipping in after the barman, under his invisibility cloak. The pub’s customary stench of, what seemed to be, goats hit him by surprise. It must have gotten worse in the last year. Harry stood in front of Daphne and Zabini’s table, invisible, watching them and shifting nervously on his feet.
“Well there is a little reason why we’re here.”
Zabini quirked an eyebrow.
Daphne rolled her eyes.
“You know how I’ve been skipping lunch a lot lately?”
The dark Slytherin boy nodded.
“I want you to meet the person I’ve been seeing and I want you to keep an open mind.” That sounded more like an order than anything.
Zabini leaned back in his chair, his fingers dancing around the edge of his snifter of, what Harry supposed to be, an alcoholic beverage. “As I assume you wish to keep this a secret, since you dragged me to this awful establishment-” he paused, a menacing grin spreading across his face, “-what’s in it for me?”
“Knew you were going to say that.” Daphne took a sip of her Firewhiskey. “I assure you, if you open your mind and play nice, it’ll be mutually beneficial. For all of us.”
The Slytherin boy’s eyes narrowed.
“And, if you don’t play nice, I’ll just obliviate you and you won’t even remember having met this person, nor will you remember this conversation,” she spoke in a cool business tone, smirking toward a slightly contemptuous Zabini.
Harry’s brows furrowed, but he figured that he was safe enough to reveal himself and possibly not get hexed on spot. He wasn’t expecting Zabini to be there on his supposed ‘date’, of all people. So, taking a deep breath, trying to gain a bit of confidence, he pulled the cloak off to the side.
Neither of them flinched as he was revealed, as if they expected that he was there the whole time, which was rather disappointing. He was hoping to get some sort of reaction out of Daphne, but she just grinned. Zabini’s eyes narrowed further into icy, calculating slits.
“Glad you could make it,” Daphne said, gesturing to the chair next to her and sliding a glass of Firewhiskey over to him. “I don’t know what you drink, so I got the standard.”
“Erm-” Harry stared hesitantly at the glass and took his seat, avoiding Zabini’s gaze. “Thanks, Daphne.”
“Potter,” Zabini’s deep voice rumbled from the other side of the table. Harry looked up and the boy gave him a curt nod.
“Zabini.” Harry nodded back with a wary look.
The Slytherin boy turned toward Daphne. “So you’re… fucking Potter?”
Harry’s neck burned from the flush that was creeping up over his skin. Without any hesitation, he downed the Firewhiskey in one gulp, grimacing slightly at the burn as it went down.
“Among other things,” Daphne replied, reaching into the pocket of her deep green cloak and removing her silver case.
The way Zabini was eyeing him, Harry felt incredibly uneasy. What was Zabini to Daphne? A friend? Or was he more like a big brother, like Ron, who wished to beat the seven shades of shit out of Dean every time Dean came in from snogging Ron’s sister? Of course, if that were the case, then the situation Harry was in was exponentially worse, considering that he and Daphne went far past snogging the first night they met. That wouldn’t bode well at all.
“I see.” Zabini slid the silver case toward himself with a sigh. “And here I was concerned that you got yourself back with that Smith bastard.”
“Bastard’s about right,” Harry concurred, thinking of the annoying blonde Hufflepuff, who seemed to cause trouble for the hell of it.
Pausing from lighting his cigarette, Zabini’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Well, I believe we’ve found something we agree on,” he drawled around the fag.
Harry grinned. Smith bashing was one thing he didn’t mind doing – too bad Snape bashing was out of the question, or they’d be there all night. Daphne passed the silver case to him; he plucked a cigarette from the confines, joining them, and grabbing another glass of Firewhiskey from the selection of drinks lined up about the table.
“Harry’s not as bad as you think, Blaise, you just have to get to know him better,” Daphne said, smoke trickling out her lips as she spoke.
Looking doubtful, Zabini shrugged one shoulder.
Harry stared at both of the Slytherins apprehensively, sipping his Firewhiskey and waiting for the nicotine buzz to hit.
“Fine.” Zabini seemed to shrink a little upon relenting. But his aloof aura didn’t disappear for a second as he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaled, and blew a smoke ring toward the Gryffindor boy, looking uninterested with the whole affair. “I’ll keep an open mind,” his detached voice articulated.
The trio at the table was silent for a while, the quiet sounds of an almost empty pub settling around them. Harry drew deeply on his cigarette, finally feeling the nicotine buzz kick in, and he settled back into his chair, throwing a lopsided grin toward Daphne.
The bell on the door to the Hog’s Head jingled as it opened and Harry was abruptly torn out of his buzz when he noticed Zabini stiffen and glare over Harry’s shoulder. Please don’t let it be Ron, please don’t let it be Ron…
“Hey, Potter.” He heard the distinct voice of Zacharias Smith and mumbled a curse. Merlin, say his name once and he appears? Harry turned slowly, glancing over his right shoulder. “Zabini.” Smith nodded politely toward the Slytherin boy and turned his eyes on Daphne, leering. “Greengrass.”
Harry stared at the blonde-haired Hufflepuff. “What do you want, Smith?” Daphne asked sharply, her piercing gaze boring into him.
“Clearly, I’m here for a drink, but this is so much more interesting,” Smith replied with a, somewhat, maniacal grin. “So which one are you ‘seeing’, Potter? Or did Weasley forget to say ‘Slytherin‘s’’ when he announced it to the Great Hall?”
Harry rolled his eyes, glancing back at Zabini, who looked torn between being disgusted or murderous, his lip curled severely. “I’m not seeing multiple Slytherins, Smith,” Harry replied, calmly, his nose wrinkling in annoyance as he downed the rest of his second Firewhiskey.
“Ah, wonderful,” Smith commented with an odd glint in his eyes. “Then you won’t mind me asking Greengrass here to join me for a drink.”
Stiffening, Harry felt the urge to glare and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his empty glass. Smith and Malfoy – there was no difference between them at all.
“Not on your life,” Daphne responded coldly.
Zabini was as still as a statue, glaring daggers at the Hufflepuff. It didn’t even look as if he were breathing. A long cherry grew at the tip of the cigarette between his fingers as it burnt down.
“I could make it worth your while,” Smith leered suggestively, goading Harry even further. Hexing him right about now sounded terribly satisfying.
“You couldn’t make it worth it for the fucking Giant Squid.” Daphne smirked, leaning back in her chair, taking the last drag on her cigarette.
Smith sneered. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“Didn’t even deserve a response.”
The Hufflepuff boy’s cheeks flamed red and he glared at the girl. “Stuck up bitch,” he muttered, his narrowed eyes grazing over each member of the unusual trio. “Whoring yourself out to Potter now, eh?”
Harry started to get up, his hand curled into a fist, longing to brain him – forget hexing the bastard! – but Daphne pulled at his sleeve and he settled back down into his chair.
The nerve of that prat!
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daphne stated smoothly.
A tight scoff spilled through Smith’s lips. “It’s obvious, Greengrass. You’ll spread your legs for anyone. Boy Wonder worth your while? Or maybe it’s Zabini who you’re after – trying to make him jealous by slagging yourself arou-”
A jet of red light cut off Smith’s callous rant and the boy fell backwards to the floor in a heap of tangled Hufflepuff robes.
Harry looked back at Zabini, who had his wand out. The Slytherin stared at the stunned body with little interest as he tucked his wand back up his sleeve. “Much better,” Zabini said with a satisfied smirk.
Daphne grabbed Harry’s sleeve again, willing him to follow, and they got up from the table. Harry had the urge to kick the Hufflepuff while he was down as they stood around the boy. Removing her wand from her robe pocket, Daphne pointed it at Smith. “Obliviate,” she whispered and the boy’s memories of the past conversation completely erased.
Harry relaxed a little.
“Make yourself useful, Potter,” Zabini uttered, struggling to lift the weight of the tall lanky Hufflepuff as he bent down to pick him up. Harry hesitated, his brows furrowing, but he reached in and grabbed the back of the boy’s robes anyway. They hauled him upright, distributing the weight between them.
“What are we going to do with him?”
Zabini and Daphne didn’t answer as Harry was led toward the bar, helping the Slytherin boy drag Smith along with them. The grizzled-looking barman raised his eyebrows as they approached. “Can I help you?” he asked in a gruff voice.
When Zabini plopped Smith’s limp body onto a stool at the bar, Harry stumbled, grabbing onto the edge of another stool to keep from tipping over onto the grubby floor. He glared at the Slytherin boy, who was brushing off his robes and smoothing over the fabric. Zabini brought out his wand and did a quick scourgify over his robes.
Ponce, Harry thought, but paused in the middle of rolling his eyes to look back over at Zabini and Daphne bewilderedly.
How was it even possible that those two could do magic outside of Hogwarts without having a Ministry Owl flocking down to attack them? Were they of age already? He reminded himself to ask when Daphne’s birthday was, just to check.
“Could you take care of him? He’s been quite the nuisance,” Daphne asked politely, passing – what Harry believed to be – a satchel full of Galleons toward the barman.
The old man looked over at the blonde Hufflepuff. “Obliviation, I presume?”
“I’d rather that be kept between the two of us, Mr. Dumbledore.”
Harry blinked. Mr. Dumbledore? He narrowed his eyes toward the old barman. There… was a resemblance between him and the headmaster. They must have been related somehow – Harry wasn’t even aware that Dumbledore had family this close to the school. He’d always looked strikingly familiar though, he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“No worries, Greengrass,” Mr. Dumbledore assured, “all swept under the rug.”
“Brilliant.”
Harry looked between Daphne and Zabini, then to Mr. Dumbledore confoundedly. “Come on, Harry – got to go before he enervates Smith.” Daphne swiftly grabbed the sleeve of his arm and pulled him along out the bar. Harry faintly paid attention to the jingle of the door closing before removing himself from Daphne’s grasp.
“Mr. Dumbledore?” he asked incredulously.
The two Slytherins stopped and turned toward him. “Yeah. Aberforth Dumbledore,” Daphne answered, her forehead crinkled a bit at the centre.
“Aberforth Dumbledore?” He was a part of the old Order of the Phoenix – Dumbledore’s brother! That’s why the old barman looked so familiar – he was in that picture he had in his album.
Daphne raised an eyebrow while Zabini simply stood there indifferently, his arms crossed over his chest. “Yes, Harry. Aberforth Dumbledore,” she repeated slowly, as if he didn’t understand what she was saying. “Decent bloke.”
He followed them blankly, deep in thought.
Dumbledore never mentioned his brother – ever. Considering Aberforth was so close to the school wouldn’t they see each other often…?
Well, not all families were as close as the Weasleys. Maybe Aberforth was a lot like Percy, except the opposite? Percy ran off to the Ministry and was vastly different from the rest of his family; and – if Harry wasn’t mistaken – he’d heard something about Aberforth and goats before. No wonder the pub reeked of them. But Dumbledore’s family could have been more like Percy…
Harry shook his head, his forehead hurt from being creased for so long.
The three walked along, avoiding the High Street of Hogsmeade where most of the students were running around. Harry thought of taking out his invisibility cloak and throwing it around him, but the path they were on was very deserted.
He wondered what Ron and Hermione were doing. He had left them at Honeydukes while Ron emptied his pockets for a huge pile of Chocolate Frog Cards, desperate to finally get Agrippa to complete his collection. They were probably at The Three Broomsticks wondering where he was, and he felt a brief guilty twinge burn through his stomach. Even if Ron was being a prat and not exactly talking to him, he still felt guilty for ditching them.
“Is anyone going to say anything?” Daphne asked, glancing at the both of them on either side of her, quirking an eyebrow. The snow that was falling down collected in her dark hair.
“I dunno,” Harry replied, grinning. “What do you want me to say?”
He noticed that Zabini seemed to be off in his own world as he looked over at them.
“Anything – I’m not very fond of silence.”
Then why would she be friends with Zabini? It didn’t seem as if he spoke that often.
Harry was just about to open his mouth to ask her when her birthday was – seeming it quite appropriate as he was curious anyway – when a deafening scream from ahead cut him off. Jolting, Harry whipped his head in that direction.
Were they being attacked?
But how could Death Eater’s know that they had Hogsmeade weekend, they didn’t give them enough time to-
His mind stopped and all fingers pointed toward one thing:
Malfoy.
It had to be Malfoy.
That ruddy bastard was planning something. He must have been itching for a Hogsmeade weekend to come so he could round up the Death Eaters.
Without a second thought, he took off running toward the screaming, grabbing his wand from his back pocket. A hex was on his lips as he came up over a hill, only to stop dead in his tracks, his heart pounding.
No Death Eaters.
Katie Bell was high up in the air, her mouth wide open – screaming and screaming. A dark haired Hufflepuff tried to pull her to the ground, anguished shrieks of half-formed cries of help pouring from her lips. There was something very wrong with Katie… something not right at all. Her eyes were completely blank, unseeing. Harry rushed forward and tugged hard on Katie’s robe with the Hufflepuff girl. ₁
What was wrong with her? Was she cursed?
No one else was around them.
Who could have cursed her?
With one hard tug from the both of them, Katie fell and sprawled out atop them, struggling, painful cries ripped from her throat. They tried to hold on to her but she was writhing too much that they could barely keep their grip. Katie’s arm came in contact with his nose and he winced, his eyes watering. Katie’s squirming increased, she was kicking, her limbs flailing so wildly, they had to let go. ₁
Harry quickly got to his feet and stared from her to the Hufflepuff girl. “What happened?” ₁
“I don’t know! She just started…” the girl broke off into a sob. “I-” ₁
Looking around for anyone who could help, but finding no one, Harry exclaimed over Katie’s screams, “Stay here – I’m going to go get some help!” ₁
He took off running down the path toward Hogwarts, hoping he would run into Professor McGonagall or someone who could stop the curse, at least, on the way. The path was deserted, hundreds of metres of snow-covered land stretched between him and the castle. It had to be the Cruciatus Curse, he thought. But… he’d never seen anything like that before. Whatever hit her… it was horrible.
What could have caused it?
A large human shape appeared at the edge of the path, obscured by the rapidly falling snow that was starting to turn into a furious blizzard. Harry sped up as fast as his legs could carry him. “Hagrid! Hagrid!” he yelled, panting, hoping the half-giant could hear him. ₁
“Harry!” Hagrid boomed, his hair and beaverskin coat covered in a thick sheet of snow. “Jus’ bin visitin’ Grawp, he’s comin’ on so well yeh wouldn’–” ₁
“Hagrid, Katie’s hurt back there – cursed or something –” he yelled over the howling wind of the snowstorm. ₁
“Cursed?” ₁
Harry nodded frantically and then nodded back toward the path. “This way!” ₁
They took off back down the path toward where he had left Katie with the Hufflepuff girl; he hoped that she wasn’t dead by the time they got there. If it was something like the Cruciatus Curse, she’d probably have gone mad by now.
But it took them no time to get there. The girl was leaning over Katie and Zabini and Daphne were standing off to the side, their wands out, inspecting the area. Harry stopped next to them, his lungs burned and his glasses were dusted with sleet, but he could still see enough through him. ₁
“Get back!” Hagrid shouted. “Lemme see her!” ₁
The Hufflepuff girl backed away from Katie, tears running down her face, almost bowling over Zabini as she got out of the half-giant’s way.
Hagrid looked over the twitching and screaming Gryffindor before scooping her up in his arms. Without a glance at the other four people on the path, he took off toward the castle, Katies screams fading with the distance. ₁
Harry caught his breath, looking over at Daphne and Zabini, who were still alert, obviously looking for an attacker. “What happened?” he asked the Hufflepuff girl, who seemed to have calmed down a little bit, but barely. She was practically hysterical before Hagrid took Katie away. “Was she attacked?” ₁
“No. She was carrying a package… and it tore…” The brunette pointed a shaky finger toward a wet and mangled brown-paper package on the ground, split open enough to reveal greenish glitter. ₁
Harry walked forward and crouched down next to it. ₁ He looked up as Zabini and Daphne joined him; their wands prodded at the brown-paper but didn’t go anywhere near the elaborate opal necklace that appeared when Zabini moved a bit of the paper aside.
“I’ve seen that before,” Harry said faintly, trying to remember exactly where. ₁
“I think I have as well… that shop in Knockturn Ally, right? Bargain Burkes or something?” Daphne asked, levitating the necklace out of the package.
Harry nodded. “Borgin and Burkes.”
“Yes, that.” She looked over the necklace. “One hell of a curse on it,” she muttered.
Harry turned back toward the Hufflepuff girl, who was shivering. “How did Katie get hold of this?” He gestured toward the necklace. ₁
“She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a sur¬prise for somebody at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it – then we were arguing… and –” Her eyes widened and her lip quivered. “Oh no, oh no, I bet she’d been Imperiused and I didn’t realize!” ₁
Imperiused? Harry’s brows furrowed. “Did she say who gave it to her?” ₁
“No… she wouldn’t tell me… and I said she was being stupid and not to take it up to school, but she just wouldn’t listen and… and then I tried to grab it from her… and – and-” she wailed, her sobs renewed. ₁
Sighing, Harry stood up, careful not to bump the necklace that Daphne had under control by her wand. Zabini looked quite distant, but that wasn’t anything unusual. Awkwardly, Harry patted the girl’s shoulder, trying to comfort her a bit. He looked over at the other two, who seemed to be having a silent conversation with their eyes; they were staring at each other so intently.
“We better get that up to the school,” Harry interrupted and they both looked at him. ₁
Daphne led the way, levitating the necklace far enough ahead of them so none of them could come in contact with it. Zabini trailed alongside Harry and the Hufflepuff girl, who seemed reluctant to move. She was shivering so much.
The necklace he had seen at Borgin and Burkes years ago. It was in the case that Malfoy was looking at when Harry was hiding from him and his dad. Malfoy must have remembered it. It had to have been Malfoy who gave Katie the cursed necklace – and Imperiused her as well!
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he realised that Zabini was staring at him carefully. “You know who did it.” It wasn’t a question.
Harry hesitated. He was very unsure of Zabini on the subject of Malfoy, especially after what he had seen on the train earlier that year. “Maybe. Do you know who did it?” he asked, hoping Zabini would answer a lot less ambiguously than him.
“I believe we both know who did it,” the Slytherin boy stated evenly. His deep voice carried clearly through the whipping wind of the blizzard.
Harry looked over at the Hufflepuff girl, who was hugging herself as she walked, her sniffs and sobs drowned out by the wind and snow. “It was Malfoy, wasn’t it?” Harry asked, narrowing his eyes toward Zabini.
A smirk spread across his face. “Of course, Potter, who else would be this idiotic?” the Slytherin boy questioned rhetorically, seemingly amused.
“Idiotic?” Harry’s brows furrowed. They were nearing the school; Daphne kept glancing back at them every few metres.
“Even you can’t be that thick to not see it.” Zabini rolled his eyes and Harry’s eyes narrowed further in confusion. “Stirring up trouble. Casting the Imperius Curse on a Gryffindor – of all people – and that high profile necklace. Idiotic actions like that practically scream ‘Draco’,” Zabini elaborated in a bored tone.
Harry sighed. “I know it was Malfoy. I’m not thick.”
Zabini scoffed quietly as they walked up the stairs. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Harry didn’t respond, dropping the subject. He held open the door for the Hufflepuff girl. It wasn’t a good idea to get on Zabini’s bad side when they had more pressing matters to deal with.
“So,” Daphne’s voice echoed through the cavernous entrance hall, “where do we take this thing?” She pointed toward the necklace and raised an eyebrow.
Shifting on his feet, trying to think of what teacher to bring it to, he almost sighed in relief when Professor McGonagall bounded down the stairs. “Potter!” she called, advancing upon them. “Miss Greengrass, Mr. Zabini!” ₁
The stern Professor looked from student to student in suspicion. “Hagrid says you saw what happened to Katie Bell – upstairs to my office at once, please! What’s that you’re levitating, Miss Greengrass?” she asked, staring at the opal trinket with interest. ₁
“It’s the necklace she touched – it’s cursed,” Harry said, Daphne nodded to back him up. Zabini stood off to the side like dead weight, staring at the group. ₁
“Good lord,” Professor McGonagall breathed. ₁
Filch skittered across the entrance hall holding his Secrecy Sensor in the air with a very eager glint in his dark eyes. “No, no, Filch, they’re with me,” McGonagall said hastily. ₁
McGonagall took off her outer cloak and wrapped it around the necklace as Daphne broke the levitation charm. She handed it to the caretaker. “Take this necklace to Professor Snape at once, but be sure not to touch it, keep it wrapped in the cloak!” ₁
Harry and the others followed Professor McGonagall to her office in silence through the drafty corridors. Her office was just as he remembered it from his Career Advice session with her in fifth year. The blizzard outside wreaked havoc on the windows; they were so white he could barely see anything outside. Harry pulled his damp cloak around tighter, feeling the need for an incredibly hot shower when he got back to his dormitory.
Closing the door, McGonagall swept around to the other side of her desk and stared at the teenagers expectantly. “Well?” she asked sharply. “What happened?” ₁
The Hufflepuff girl related her story, slowly, her sobs interrupting when she came to certain parts. Harry stayed silent, glancing at Zabini and Daphne from time to time. Zabini kept a neutral expression, staying still as a statue, while Daphne shivered slightly, inching closer to the fireplace. ₁
“Alright,” Professor McGonagall said when the girl finished just before she got to the part where Katie had touched the necklace, sobbing uncontrollably and unable to get another word out, “go up to the hospital wing, please, Leanne, and get Madam Pomfrey to give you something for the shock.” ₁
After she left, McGonagall turned back toward Harry and the two Slytherins. “What happened when she touched the necklace?” ₁
“She was in the air,” Harry explained, “I heard her scream and we pulled her down.” He paused, thinking he had to tell someone about Malfoy. “Professor, could I see Professor Dumbledore, please?” ₁
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Daphne’s brows furrow as she looked at him.
“The headmaster is away until Monday, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, her eyes widened slightly. ₁
“Away?” Harry repeated, feeling frustration nipping at the back of his teeth. Dumbledore was always away lately! Harry never got to see him when it actually mattered. ₁
“Yes, Potter, away,” Professor McGonagall replied sternly. “But any¬thing you have to say about this horrible business can be said to me, I’m sure.” ₁
Harry dithered. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Professor McGonagall, but she was much less likely to believe a theory. They had no proof against Malfoy. He knew that Professor Dumbledore would possibly believe him if he told him that Malfoy did it.
Gritting his teeth, he severely hoped that Zabini would back him up. “I think Draco Malfoy gave Katie that necklace, Professor.” ₁
The room was absolutely silent, save for Zabini’s quiet exhalation through his teeth.
“That is a very serious accusation, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said slowly, her eyebrows raised high upon her head. “Do you have any proof?” ₁
“No, but…” Harry looked over toward Zabini, who smirked. Guess he wasn’t going to get any help from him. He couldn’t tell Professor McGonagall that he had followed Malfoy into Borgin and Burkes during the summer and overheard an odd conversation between him and Mr Borgin – well, he could, but not in front of Daphne and Zabini.
“He must have done it.”
Professor McGonagall’s lips pursed. “Mr. Potter, that there is no way Mr. Malfoy could have attacked Katie Bell with that necklace.” ₁
Harry’s mouth fell open. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Daphne and Zabini shared a glance. “How do you know, Professor?” ₁
“He was doing detention with me. He has now failed to complete his Transfiguration homework twice in a row. So, thank you for telling me your suspicion, Potter,” she said, stalking past them toward the door, “but I need to go up to the hospital wing now to check on Katie Bell. Good day to you all.” ₁
As she held open the door, she threw apprehensive glances toward the two Slytherins who lead the way out of the office. Harry sighed dejectedly.
If Katie was supposed to give the necklace to someone, who would be the target?
There were a few people at the school that he knew Death Eaters would target. Dumbledore, probably Slughorn… or even him, but that wasn’t Voldemort’s style. Voldemort wouldn’t order an attack like that on Harry. He seemed to enjoy direct confrontation when it came to him. But if it wasn’t Malfoy who gave Katie the necklace – and obviously Zabini and Daphne thought it was Malfoy as well, which was pretty damning considering they were in the same house and had to share living quarters – then Malfoy must have had an accomplice, at least. ₁
Daphne snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Harry. Still with us?”
Harry shook his head, blinking out of his reverie. “Malfoy had an accomplice.”
“Obviously,” Zabini deadpanned.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Harry asked, frustrated with the Slytherin boy at the moment for not backing him up. Then again, it was highly typical of him.
“There’s no proof,” Daphne spoke for Zabini in a clipped tone. Zabini gave a curt nod. “We can’t make accusations until there’s proof. It’s the first rule of making accusations.”
There were rules to making accusations? Slytherins were barmy sometimes. Harry merely raised an eyebrow in response.
“So, we’ll just have to get something on him,” Daphne continued with a smirk.
Harry shook his head in disbelief. If there was ever a time that he believed in Luna’s Wrackspurts, it was now.
“Sorry?” Harry wasn’t sure he heard correctly. He thought he had just heard Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin, say that she wanted to find proof against Draco Malfoy, a fellow Slytherin – proof that could very well get him expelled?
“Told you he was thick,” Zabini commented idly, leaning against the wall of the corridor.
Daphne batted at the Slytherin boy’s arm. “Shut up,” she muttered harshly then turned toward Harry. “I know you heard me: We’re going to find proof.”
“I thought you…” He didn’t know how to phrase this, he looked pointedly at Zabini. “Aren’t you his friend or something?”
“Friends – annoyances. Apparently they’re the same difference, considering you and Daph, Potter,” Zabini answered, his eyes shining with obvious mirth.
Harry’s eyes narrowed. Zabini just called him annoying… did that mean that he found Draco Malfoy annoying? “So he’s an annoyance,” he stated.
Zabini just rolled his eyes.
“Stop being such a cock, Blaise,” Daphne interrupted. “Yes. Draco’s an annoying little swot,” she clarified, glancing at Harry.
He knew not to press anything further. This was almost too good to be true. “How do we get proof?”
“Leave it up to us.” Her mouth formed a menacing smirk. “I’ve been waiting to burn Draco for years, I’ll find something. He might have some condemning material lying round his room, so it may be that simple.”
He really hoped so, because if Malfoy was willing to cast the Imperius Curse on someone to get a cursed object into the castle, for whatever intended target, there had to be something worse coming.
Harry had a bad feeling about that. He’d have to keep a keen eye on Malfoy for the time being.
Direct and paraphrased quotes taken from (or Reference):
₁ Rowling, J.K. (2005). Chapter 12: Silver and Opals. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (US edition) (pp. 249-256). New York, NY: Scholastic Inc.
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