Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Duality
Rubbish
HBP AU. It's hard enough being a teenager; add nefarious plots, the Dark Lord, and house rivalries into the mix. A story about enlightenment, growing up, and getting over yourself. Harry/Daphne.
?Blocked
Author’s Note: Thanks for your reviews! I’ve certainly enjoyed reading them. This chapter seems quite short but it’s nearly 3,000 words… that’s rather odd. Hope you enjoy! Please review. :)
Disclaimer: I’d be able to afford a decent computer if I were JK. Alas, I cannot.
Duality: Rubbish
oOo
“He’s been going to that room you used last year for your Dumbledore club-”
“-The Room of Requirement.”
“Yeah, I barely made it through the door, but I think I know how to get in there. It works with visualizations, right?”
Harry shrugged, shuffling his feet along at her steady, quick pace. They were nearing the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy. “That’s what I did with it before,” he spoke quietly. The portraits around them were starting to ask who was there when they heard their voices and obviously saw no one.
“Alright, I’ll do that. But, honestly, I’ve no idea what he was doing so I don’t even know if this is important and it’s driving me mad. I mean, I didn’t catch him doing anything, but why else would he go in there?”
“Obviously he’s up to something.” Harry glanced down at her, slightly amused by her frustrated rant – he’d never seen her like that – and she nodded, staring up at the wall.
He paced along with her, three times, underneath the cloak, trying to keep up to her quick and even steps. When the door appeared, he swallowed thickly.
This was it wasn’t it?
He had no idea what he’d find in there.
Daphne gave him a small smile and grabbed his hand, pulling him forward toward the door. He had the urge to smirk in a sort of triumphant way.
It opened.
Harry could see Daphne glancing up at him out of the corner of her eyes as he stared at the piles among piles of castoffs. He was pulled forward inside and the door slammed shut.
It was a bloody storage/rubbish bin and that was the last thing he expected. A room full of torture devices and dark artifacts hidden behind junk would make sense, but this? Pure rubbish. The piles and piles of sherry bottles made him think of Trelawney. She must have put those there – he remembered seeing that in fifth year – this was a place to hide things, wasn’t it?
What would Draco Malfoy hide in here?
Daphne lit up a cigarette and the scent wafted over to him, sobering his confusion a bit. “Could I have one of those?”
She shrugged and handed her lit one over. He took a drag as she pulled out another for herself. So, they needed to find something that Malfoy would be interested in. It was probably full of dark magic that did Merlin-knew-what and it would probably curse them. Finding it in a huge pile of scrap, trash, and random bits and bobs was going to be hard.
“Did he give any indication of what he was doing? Was he in a certain area?”
Daphne shook her head. “I have no idea what he was doing in here.”
“Well… this is going to be a long night.”
“Probably.”
Harry inhaled the smoke deeply, feeling the light floaty tingling feeling that was a nice long nicotine buzz coming on. He felt substantially calmer and ready for this.
He took one side of the room while Daphne took another. Underneath massive heaps of old wands, scattered Playwitch and Playwizard magazines (he turned red as he idly flipped through one of them) he found an old sofa that probably dated back to the 1800’s. Obviously there was nothing under there. Harry started sifting through the rubble, finding things with less dust on them because he knew they would have been stirred recently, which would give him clues of where Malfoy had been hopefully.
Daphne burst out laughing on the other side of the room and he looked up, alarmed. “What is it?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“Someone either really likes or hates the Human League – there’s a whole pile of them.” She held up an old record. “I didn’t even know they were a magical group but that makes so much more sense.”
He looked over the area she was in and saw piles among piles of records and an old magical phonograph. Daphne shoved it on the phonograph and tapped it three times with her wand, letting the odd techno beat wash over the room.
Hearing the music, he really couldn’t blame the person who wanted to throw the records out.
They quickly got back to work, searching. On the upside, the music did make time pass faster as they searched, even if it was sort of atrocious. After avoiding the incredibly balanced tower of desks, Harry came across an ancient cabinet covered in a rather dusty cloth.
He stared at it for a second – it looked kind of familiar, but he could have seen it anywhere in the castle in the six years before someone decided to stash it. With a sigh, he clicked it open, wondering if a pile of china was going to come tumbling out to attack him.
But it was completely empty, save for a dead bird lying at the bottom of it. His lip curled in disgust, yet as he gazed at it, his brain went straight toward Unforgivable Curses.
“Daphne?” he asked loudly over the music, looking toward the direction he last saw her.
Her head popped up over the piles of rubble. “Did you find something?”
“Maybe…” Harry stared back at the bird. “It’s… a speculation, but what if he’s just practicing Unforgivables in here?” The dead bird looked quite fresh, after all.
Faintly, he heard Daphne crawling through the piles of junk noisily as he ruminated over the possibility that Draco Malfoy was simply practicing the Dark Arts. Still, that was much too anticlimactic for him to accept as a valid theory. The thought settled sickly in his stomach; he felt as if there was something he was missing.
“It would make sense, I suppose. No one’s obviously been in this room for years, except Trelawney and Draco. It would be completely rotten otherwise,” Daphne said from beside him. Cold glass bumped against his arm and Harry looked down to a bottle of sherry in Daphne’s hands. “I doubt Trelawney would hide dead birds in here.”
“Trelawney,” he muttered with a small amused grin, gazing up at her.
“Found her stash.” Daphne held up a bottle. “She has a whole trunk full of them – I don’t think she’d mind me knicking one. She’s all set up here.”
She popped open the bottle with a flick of her wand and took a sip, her eyes fixed on the dead bird. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Draco was practicing Unforgivables, but he’s sixteen – he’s probably past those by now.”
“Is there a spell to figure out how the bird died?”
“Pfft. If only magic were that easy,” Daphne drawled, tipping the bottle back. She held it up to him and he shook his head, declining the offer. “Never thought it was this complicated when I got my letter.”
Harry’s brows furrowed. “But you’re a halfblood. Didn’t one of your parents have magic?”
“Yeah, but I grew up with my mum, she’s a Muggle. I never met my father,” she explained quickly. “We’re getting off topic.”
Harry nodded, sensing that she really didn’t want to delve into that particular subject. “Right. Malfoy.”
“Malfoy,” Daphne agreed, taking a long swig of Trelawney’s drink of choice. “After going through all of this, we still don’t know what the fuck he’s doing up here.”
“At least we know where he’s running off to. And the Aurors…” Hopefully that would be the end of it – watching Draco Malfoy being dragged out the front doors of Hogwarts by the MLE.
“Yeah.” Daphne nodded, shifting on her feet. The music was starting to get annoying. Harry’s cheek twitched as a particular song played for the fourth time.
“Can you turn that off?”
Daphne gave a laugh. “Don’t like it?”
“No, not really.” Harry shook his head, staring down at her with a slight grin.
Daphne pointed her wand in the direction of the phonograph. “Finite,” she muttered. “I suppose there’s only so many times a person can listen to Don’t You Want Me before they reach their breaking point.”
“I have the song stuck in my head and that’s bad enough,” Harry said, sighing and staring down at the half-empty bottle of sherry in her hand with a raised eyebrow. He didn’t see her drink that much of it. She only opened it a few minutes ago.
Slowly, Daphne turned toward him, a grin stretching across her face. “Guess we’re done here?” she asked quietly.
Harry nodded, a dejected expression marring his face as he glanced around at the rubble. He wished that they could find something more… incriminating.
“But I don’t want to leave. Pansy and Millie are going to give me the third degree.”
“It’s probably really late.” Harry felt a yawn coming on and tried to suppress it. He moved a hand up to his mouth to cover it. He should have been in bed at least, an hour or so ago. At this rate, he’d have one hell of a time getting out of bed in the morning.
“I suppose.” Daphne grabbed his hand as he started toward the door. She took a swig of the sherry. “You know, with a little sprucing up, this place could be quite awesome.”
Harry stared around the disaster area of junk once again and highly doubted that, but shrugged. The only thing that was “awesome” about the place was the room itself. He felt another yawn coming on and looked over at Daphne. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Nah – I’m incredibly wired. I drank a whole teapot full of coffee before I came to get you,” she said while they exited the Room of Requirement and walked slowly down the darkened corridor.
“No wonder.”
She draped the make-shift invisibility cloak over her shoulders and he realized that it was a lot different than his own invisibility cloak. Hers looked like a sheet while his was like liquid silver that formed perfectly around a person’s body. Maybe his dad was much better at Charms than Nott.
Harry looked up at her to see her staring straight back at him and the dark circles round her eyes made them seem more blue than usual. “I completely forgot what class I have in the morning, do you know?” she asked, stowing the bottle of sherry away and lighting up a fag.
“We’re in Transfiguration together, love,” Harry replied. “You okay?”
Shrugging, she took a long drag on her cigarette. “Long day, I s’pose. Probably should get to bed – dunno if I’ll end up sleeping. I don’t feel like sleeping or anything.”
Harry yawned at the prospect of getting to a bed. He then noticed her swaying pronouncedly as she walked. “Are you sure you’re going to make it to the dungeons alright?”
“Yeah, I can make it,” Daphne said looking down along the corridor. “Floors gone all wobbly for a moment though.”
“What did you put in that fag?”
“Nothing… Tobacco?” She was staring at the ceiling, her head wrenched upward. “Probably the fucking sherry.”
Harry quickly reached out his arms to catch her before she fell backwards, grinning up at him. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
Note: Trelawney’s brew was definitely not a good idea to touch.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Harry whispered as they neared the Fat Lady, ignoring Daphne’s protest of ‘I’m not tired!’.
Thankfully, the Fat Lady was sleeping so he could cover Daphne up with the invisibility cloak properly, without having it catch fire from her cigarette.
He started off with a quiet “Hello?” but it wasn’t loud enough to wake her. Biting the inside of his lip, he tried again. “Erm, excuse me,” he said louder than he meant to, which jolted the portrait awake. He hoped his voice didn’t carry too far along the corridors.
“You do know that it’s half three in the morning, boy.”
“See, there was this emergency…” he blinked up at her, trying to think of something more concrete, “…headache. Had to go to the hospital wing. Sorry about that.”
Her probing eyes surveyed him up and down. “You do look a bit peaky – Password?”
“Dilligrout.”
He let out a sigh of relief when she opened for him and he ushered Daphne through, supporting her slightly with his arm. The portrait hole slammed shut behind him. “Emergency headache? Remind me not to ask you for excuses.”
“All I could think of!” Harry whispered loudly, watching Daphne partially remove her cloak and look around the common room.
“Are my eyes burning or is it just a bit too red in here?”
“It’s the Gryffindor Common Room, Daph.”
“Ah, true. Nice… wallpapering.”
“Em – thanks? We should really get you to bed,” Harry said through a yawn.
She stared over at him dazedly, the dark sheet that was the make-shift invisibility cloak hanging off one of her shoulders. “Do you want to go out somewhere?”
Go out?
“We have class in the morning,” Harry stating plainly, appraising her carefully with his eyebrows raised.
“What fun is that? I feel like going somewhere.”
“I don’t think you’re in the right state to decide.” She was swaying on her feet for Merlin’s sake!
Daphne shrugged, blinking blearily. Her wild hair cast shadows over her ashen face. “S’not as bad as you think.”
Feeling a yawn nipping at the back of his throat, Harry pushed it back, inhaling sharply. “Aren’t you tired?” She really did look it.
“I already said I’m not. You can go to sleep if you want; I just need to get out of the castle for a bit.”
“Just come to bed with me,” Harry nearly pleaded. He didn’t want anything to happen to her if she went out without him and he’d probably pass out asleep halfway to wherever she wanted to go if he went with.
Daphne ignored his plea.
“Have you ever been to a proper London nightclub?” Harry stared at her blankly. Did Trelawney’s sherry have some sort of impulsiveness potion added to it?
“Er. Can’t say I’ve ever been.” Did she really want to go to London? Now? At this time? Was anything open at nearly four in the morning?
Not to mention the raving psychopath that was out to get him – if he left school, who knows what would happen. He was sorely reminded of last year’s thestral ride to the Ministry of Magic.
“Let’s go then – it’ll be good.”
Harry sighed inwardly and moved forward to take her hand in his, pulling her along toward the stairs that led to his dormitory. “Look, how about we get a little nap in before we go anywhere. A catnap will do us some good after searching through all that crap.” He tried to be persuasive but it wasn’t his forte at all.
“That’s no fun though.”
“It will be – I promise.” He hoped he could find some of Neville’s sleeping drought to give her. She looked like she needed a proper rest. The dark circles around her eyes didn’t look too healthy.
Daphne squeezed his hand tightly a few times while puffing on her cigarette, which was nearly burnt down to the filter. “Hm… if I agree, will you skive off class tomorrow with me?”
“Sure,” Harry muttered through a quick sigh, hoping she wouldn’t remember that promise in the morning. Was she just really drunk or did Trelawney’s sherry cause half of her brain cells to die?
Either way, if she was still like that in the morning, he’d have to get Hermione to fix her. If he didn’t hand in that Transfiguration assignment – which he was already three days late on due to losing the first copy to a particularly explosive round of Exploding Snap – McGonagall was going to castrate him.
Disclaimer: I’d be able to afford a decent computer if I were JK. Alas, I cannot.
Duality: Rubbish
oOo
“He’s been going to that room you used last year for your Dumbledore club-”
“-The Room of Requirement.”
“Yeah, I barely made it through the door, but I think I know how to get in there. It works with visualizations, right?”
Harry shrugged, shuffling his feet along at her steady, quick pace. They were nearing the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy. “That’s what I did with it before,” he spoke quietly. The portraits around them were starting to ask who was there when they heard their voices and obviously saw no one.
“Alright, I’ll do that. But, honestly, I’ve no idea what he was doing so I don’t even know if this is important and it’s driving me mad. I mean, I didn’t catch him doing anything, but why else would he go in there?”
“Obviously he’s up to something.” Harry glanced down at her, slightly amused by her frustrated rant – he’d never seen her like that – and she nodded, staring up at the wall.
He paced along with her, three times, underneath the cloak, trying to keep up to her quick and even steps. When the door appeared, he swallowed thickly.
This was it wasn’t it?
He had no idea what he’d find in there.
Daphne gave him a small smile and grabbed his hand, pulling him forward toward the door. He had the urge to smirk in a sort of triumphant way.
It opened.
Harry could see Daphne glancing up at him out of the corner of her eyes as he stared at the piles among piles of castoffs. He was pulled forward inside and the door slammed shut.
It was a bloody storage/rubbish bin and that was the last thing he expected. A room full of torture devices and dark artifacts hidden behind junk would make sense, but this? Pure rubbish. The piles and piles of sherry bottles made him think of Trelawney. She must have put those there – he remembered seeing that in fifth year – this was a place to hide things, wasn’t it?
What would Draco Malfoy hide in here?
Daphne lit up a cigarette and the scent wafted over to him, sobering his confusion a bit. “Could I have one of those?”
She shrugged and handed her lit one over. He took a drag as she pulled out another for herself. So, they needed to find something that Malfoy would be interested in. It was probably full of dark magic that did Merlin-knew-what and it would probably curse them. Finding it in a huge pile of scrap, trash, and random bits and bobs was going to be hard.
“Did he give any indication of what he was doing? Was he in a certain area?”
Daphne shook her head. “I have no idea what he was doing in here.”
“Well… this is going to be a long night.”
“Probably.”
Harry inhaled the smoke deeply, feeling the light floaty tingling feeling that was a nice long nicotine buzz coming on. He felt substantially calmer and ready for this.
He took one side of the room while Daphne took another. Underneath massive heaps of old wands, scattered Playwitch and Playwizard magazines (he turned red as he idly flipped through one of them) he found an old sofa that probably dated back to the 1800’s. Obviously there was nothing under there. Harry started sifting through the rubble, finding things with less dust on them because he knew they would have been stirred recently, which would give him clues of where Malfoy had been hopefully.
Daphne burst out laughing on the other side of the room and he looked up, alarmed. “What is it?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“Someone either really likes or hates the Human League – there’s a whole pile of them.” She held up an old record. “I didn’t even know they were a magical group but that makes so much more sense.”
He looked over the area she was in and saw piles among piles of records and an old magical phonograph. Daphne shoved it on the phonograph and tapped it three times with her wand, letting the odd techno beat wash over the room.
Hearing the music, he really couldn’t blame the person who wanted to throw the records out.
They quickly got back to work, searching. On the upside, the music did make time pass faster as they searched, even if it was sort of atrocious. After avoiding the incredibly balanced tower of desks, Harry came across an ancient cabinet covered in a rather dusty cloth.
He stared at it for a second – it looked kind of familiar, but he could have seen it anywhere in the castle in the six years before someone decided to stash it. With a sigh, he clicked it open, wondering if a pile of china was going to come tumbling out to attack him.
But it was completely empty, save for a dead bird lying at the bottom of it. His lip curled in disgust, yet as he gazed at it, his brain went straight toward Unforgivable Curses.
“Daphne?” he asked loudly over the music, looking toward the direction he last saw her.
Her head popped up over the piles of rubble. “Did you find something?”
“Maybe…” Harry stared back at the bird. “It’s… a speculation, but what if he’s just practicing Unforgivables in here?” The dead bird looked quite fresh, after all.
Faintly, he heard Daphne crawling through the piles of junk noisily as he ruminated over the possibility that Draco Malfoy was simply practicing the Dark Arts. Still, that was much too anticlimactic for him to accept as a valid theory. The thought settled sickly in his stomach; he felt as if there was something he was missing.
“It would make sense, I suppose. No one’s obviously been in this room for years, except Trelawney and Draco. It would be completely rotten otherwise,” Daphne said from beside him. Cold glass bumped against his arm and Harry looked down to a bottle of sherry in Daphne’s hands. “I doubt Trelawney would hide dead birds in here.”
“Trelawney,” he muttered with a small amused grin, gazing up at her.
“Found her stash.” Daphne held up a bottle. “She has a whole trunk full of them – I don’t think she’d mind me knicking one. She’s all set up here.”
She popped open the bottle with a flick of her wand and took a sip, her eyes fixed on the dead bird. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Draco was practicing Unforgivables, but he’s sixteen – he’s probably past those by now.”
“Is there a spell to figure out how the bird died?”
“Pfft. If only magic were that easy,” Daphne drawled, tipping the bottle back. She held it up to him and he shook his head, declining the offer. “Never thought it was this complicated when I got my letter.”
Harry’s brows furrowed. “But you’re a halfblood. Didn’t one of your parents have magic?”
“Yeah, but I grew up with my mum, she’s a Muggle. I never met my father,” she explained quickly. “We’re getting off topic.”
Harry nodded, sensing that she really didn’t want to delve into that particular subject. “Right. Malfoy.”
“Malfoy,” Daphne agreed, taking a long swig of Trelawney’s drink of choice. “After going through all of this, we still don’t know what the fuck he’s doing up here.”
“At least we know where he’s running off to. And the Aurors…” Hopefully that would be the end of it – watching Draco Malfoy being dragged out the front doors of Hogwarts by the MLE.
“Yeah.” Daphne nodded, shifting on her feet. The music was starting to get annoying. Harry’s cheek twitched as a particular song played for the fourth time.
“Can you turn that off?”
Daphne gave a laugh. “Don’t like it?”
“No, not really.” Harry shook his head, staring down at her with a slight grin.
Daphne pointed her wand in the direction of the phonograph. “Finite,” she muttered. “I suppose there’s only so many times a person can listen to Don’t You Want Me before they reach their breaking point.”
“I have the song stuck in my head and that’s bad enough,” Harry said, sighing and staring down at the half-empty bottle of sherry in her hand with a raised eyebrow. He didn’t see her drink that much of it. She only opened it a few minutes ago.
Slowly, Daphne turned toward him, a grin stretching across her face. “Guess we’re done here?” she asked quietly.
Harry nodded, a dejected expression marring his face as he glanced around at the rubble. He wished that they could find something more… incriminating.
“But I don’t want to leave. Pansy and Millie are going to give me the third degree.”
“It’s probably really late.” Harry felt a yawn coming on and tried to suppress it. He moved a hand up to his mouth to cover it. He should have been in bed at least, an hour or so ago. At this rate, he’d have one hell of a time getting out of bed in the morning.
“I suppose.” Daphne grabbed his hand as he started toward the door. She took a swig of the sherry. “You know, with a little sprucing up, this place could be quite awesome.”
Harry stared around the disaster area of junk once again and highly doubted that, but shrugged. The only thing that was “awesome” about the place was the room itself. He felt another yawn coming on and looked over at Daphne. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Nah – I’m incredibly wired. I drank a whole teapot full of coffee before I came to get you,” she said while they exited the Room of Requirement and walked slowly down the darkened corridor.
“No wonder.”
She draped the make-shift invisibility cloak over her shoulders and he realized that it was a lot different than his own invisibility cloak. Hers looked like a sheet while his was like liquid silver that formed perfectly around a person’s body. Maybe his dad was much better at Charms than Nott.
Harry looked up at her to see her staring straight back at him and the dark circles round her eyes made them seem more blue than usual. “I completely forgot what class I have in the morning, do you know?” she asked, stowing the bottle of sherry away and lighting up a fag.
“We’re in Transfiguration together, love,” Harry replied. “You okay?”
Shrugging, she took a long drag on her cigarette. “Long day, I s’pose. Probably should get to bed – dunno if I’ll end up sleeping. I don’t feel like sleeping or anything.”
Harry yawned at the prospect of getting to a bed. He then noticed her swaying pronouncedly as she walked. “Are you sure you’re going to make it to the dungeons alright?”
“Yeah, I can make it,” Daphne said looking down along the corridor. “Floors gone all wobbly for a moment though.”
“What did you put in that fag?”
“Nothing… Tobacco?” She was staring at the ceiling, her head wrenched upward. “Probably the fucking sherry.”
Harry quickly reached out his arms to catch her before she fell backwards, grinning up at him. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
Note: Trelawney’s brew was definitely not a good idea to touch.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Harry whispered as they neared the Fat Lady, ignoring Daphne’s protest of ‘I’m not tired!’.
Thankfully, the Fat Lady was sleeping so he could cover Daphne up with the invisibility cloak properly, without having it catch fire from her cigarette.
He started off with a quiet “Hello?” but it wasn’t loud enough to wake her. Biting the inside of his lip, he tried again. “Erm, excuse me,” he said louder than he meant to, which jolted the portrait awake. He hoped his voice didn’t carry too far along the corridors.
“You do know that it’s half three in the morning, boy.”
“See, there was this emergency…” he blinked up at her, trying to think of something more concrete, “…headache. Had to go to the hospital wing. Sorry about that.”
Her probing eyes surveyed him up and down. “You do look a bit peaky – Password?”
“Dilligrout.”
He let out a sigh of relief when she opened for him and he ushered Daphne through, supporting her slightly with his arm. The portrait hole slammed shut behind him. “Emergency headache? Remind me not to ask you for excuses.”
“All I could think of!” Harry whispered loudly, watching Daphne partially remove her cloak and look around the common room.
“Are my eyes burning or is it just a bit too red in here?”
“It’s the Gryffindor Common Room, Daph.”
“Ah, true. Nice… wallpapering.”
“Em – thanks? We should really get you to bed,” Harry said through a yawn.
She stared over at him dazedly, the dark sheet that was the make-shift invisibility cloak hanging off one of her shoulders. “Do you want to go out somewhere?”
Go out?
“We have class in the morning,” Harry stating plainly, appraising her carefully with his eyebrows raised.
“What fun is that? I feel like going somewhere.”
“I don’t think you’re in the right state to decide.” She was swaying on her feet for Merlin’s sake!
Daphne shrugged, blinking blearily. Her wild hair cast shadows over her ashen face. “S’not as bad as you think.”
Feeling a yawn nipping at the back of his throat, Harry pushed it back, inhaling sharply. “Aren’t you tired?” She really did look it.
“I already said I’m not. You can go to sleep if you want; I just need to get out of the castle for a bit.”
“Just come to bed with me,” Harry nearly pleaded. He didn’t want anything to happen to her if she went out without him and he’d probably pass out asleep halfway to wherever she wanted to go if he went with.
Daphne ignored his plea.
“Have you ever been to a proper London nightclub?” Harry stared at her blankly. Did Trelawney’s sherry have some sort of impulsiveness potion added to it?
“Er. Can’t say I’ve ever been.” Did she really want to go to London? Now? At this time? Was anything open at nearly four in the morning?
Not to mention the raving psychopath that was out to get him – if he left school, who knows what would happen. He was sorely reminded of last year’s thestral ride to the Ministry of Magic.
“Let’s go then – it’ll be good.”
Harry sighed inwardly and moved forward to take her hand in his, pulling her along toward the stairs that led to his dormitory. “Look, how about we get a little nap in before we go anywhere. A catnap will do us some good after searching through all that crap.” He tried to be persuasive but it wasn’t his forte at all.
“That’s no fun though.”
“It will be – I promise.” He hoped he could find some of Neville’s sleeping drought to give her. She looked like she needed a proper rest. The dark circles around her eyes didn’t look too healthy.
Daphne squeezed his hand tightly a few times while puffing on her cigarette, which was nearly burnt down to the filter. “Hm… if I agree, will you skive off class tomorrow with me?”
“Sure,” Harry muttered through a quick sigh, hoping she wouldn’t remember that promise in the morning. Was she just really drunk or did Trelawney’s sherry cause half of her brain cells to die?
Either way, if she was still like that in the morning, he’d have to get Hermione to fix her. If he didn’t hand in that Transfiguration assignment – which he was already three days late on due to losing the first copy to a particularly explosive round of Exploding Snap – McGonagall was going to castrate him.
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