FicWad

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for rating and reviewing! I didn’t know whether to bundle this with the last chapter or what to do but, after debating the different themes, I decided to split this mad day up into a couple chapters. That was a monster sentence. Thanks for reading! Please review.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. He is his own person. However, JK Rowling et al. have decided to stake claim on him so I must concede and say that he’s hers.



oOo


Harry didn’t see Daphne at lunch that day. He hadn’t seen her in the courtyard smoking when he was walking to the Great Hall either. On the other hand, he did see Ginny and abruptly turned in the other direction to avoid her at all costs. When she tried to talk to him at breakfast about Quidditch, he had enough of staring at her for one day after a few short minutes. It didn’t help that she wore a second hand uniform that was just a tad too small for her size. It just… wasn’t right.

She was Ron’s little tiny itty bitty sister (yes, think of her like that) and he already had some sort of haphazard relationship with Daphne Greengrass that consisted of strange conversations, cigarettes, shagging, and spying on Draco Malfoy. Harry was perfectly content with that type of situation. Ginny was just some bizarre attraction that must have cropped up after watching her chase Quaffles in the – rather sensuous – way she… chased them.

Ahem.

Distracting his mind, he listened to Ron and Hermione bicker about the Potions assignment on Moonwort that he had finished days ago with the help of the Prince. The argument was over the size of Ron’s handwriting mostly. Of course, Ron always wrote as large as humanly possible to fill up enough inches on every essay he wrote, but he took it to a whole new level with that assignment.

As Harry picked at his chicken and vegetables, he scanned the whole Slytherin table looking for Daphne once more, but she still wasn’t among them. Zabini was sitting alone, staring down the sandwich on his plate. The dark Slytherin boy seemed as if he hadn’t blinked since the last time Harry perused the table. He then reached the end, where Theodore Nott sat, pale as a ghost, next to the third years. He really needed some sun. It looked like Snape was going to have competition for the “Slytherin house vampire” contest.

He sighed and focused back on his lunch. No Daphne at all.

Maybe she did go to London. But how? The wards were bloody impossible to get through unless she knew of the secret passageways. Then again, she could have been eating lunch in the kitchen.

Likely, he was worried – even a bit paranoid – for nothing, but he had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach about her skivving. He noted movement at the Slytherin table out of the corner of his eye and watched Zabini get up, forfeiting the staring contest he was having with his sandwich.

Harry grabbed his bag quickly and muttered that he had to go to the loo. Ron and Hermione didn’t notice much since Hermione was demonstrating the proper size that Ron should write.

Briskly taking off after Zabini out the Great Hall doors, Harry rounded the corner and followed Zabini’s retreating form down toward the dungeons. He had to run to catch up with him.

Zabini slowed his pace. “Judging by your not-so-subtle approach, I take it you want something.”

“Have you seen Daphne lately?”

“With her flittering about, it’s hard to tell, but she’s in London right now, I believe,” Zabini drawled with a sneer.

Harry’s brows furrowed. She said she was going to stay around the school. Blatant lie, obviously. But… going to London would be quite tricky. “How could she possibly get through the wards?”

Zabini glanced over at him. “My question, exactly. I wouldn’t put it past her figuring out how to do it, of course. She’s very persistent. If she’d only put as much effort into her school work…” he trailed off bitterly.

It was almost uncanny. “Merlin, you sound like Hermione.” He nearly regretted muttering that aloud, thinking that Zabini would probably curse him for comparing him to a Muggleborn witch. However, the Slytherin boy only stared at him thoughtfully, with his nostrils flared.

“Hm. Back to the subject of the wards.” Zabini paused. “Considering that you find ways to get out of the castle quite easily, I think you may be able to come up with a solution as to how.”

“Daphne doesn’t know about the secret passageways – I haven’t told her,” Harry replied quickly. “She could have found one though.” And apparated to London after getting out of the wards. He continued, “But, I would like to ask how you two don’t have Ministry owls flocking after you for performing underage magic.”

“Because we’re of age, you nitwit,” Zabini cynically intoned. “However, I wouldn’t be surprised if she found a secret passageway but, as far as I’m aware, she doesn’t know of them. And she shares everything with me, Potter.”

Harry glared, feeling a jolt of jealousy eating at his nerves, while Zabini pulled a pack of fags from his pocket and lit one with his wand. “Why does she even need to go to London?”

“Daph likes to check up on her mother when she can and she’s probably stocking up on cigarettes as well – all the plebeian Muggle things she needs to get done from time to time,” Zabini explained calmly, exhaling a puff of whispy smoke.

He bit his lip, suddenly craving a fag. “Right,” Harry said, sighing. If he had parents, he’d want to see them as much as possible as well. He could understand that... still, it was dangerous outside Hogwarts. And why would she lie to him like that?

They stopped at the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room and Zabini turned to him, eyes narrowed. “I don’t suppose you’re coming in.”

Harry’s lip curled at the thought. “Rather not.” He felt very uneasy in the Slytherin Common Room. Just as Zabini turned to whisper the password to the wall, Harry interrupted. “Could you give me one of those before you go?” he asked, nodding to the cigarette.

Raising an eyebrow, Zabini took out his pack of Davidoff’s and handed one over. “Don’t forget that you still owe me eighteen Galleons,” he drawled.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll give it to Daph – she’ll pass it on,” he muttered, sticking the fag into his mouth and lighting it.

Zabini disappeared into the Common Room and Harry pivoted on his feet. Maybe Daphne was right – once you got over how much of a demeaning and insulting arsehole that Zabini could be at times, he wasn’t that bad of a bloke. For a Slytherin.



oOo



“Harry!”

He froze when he heard Hermione’s admonishing tone. Her footsteps thundered up the stairs and he exhaled, smoke trickling out of his mouth.

“Would you put that thing out.” Her hands were on her hips, eyes stern and intimidating – much like McGonagall, actually. He wondered if she took lessons for that.

Harry sighed and took a drag that burned down quite a bit of his fag. “Merlin, Hermione, I’m almost done anyway.”

Hermione shook her head disappointedly. “Nasty habit. Those things will kill you, you know.”

“I’m sure Voldemort will kill me quicker,” he said bitterly. He took another drag.

That made her snap her mouth shut. She almost looked taken aback by it, then she bristled. “Daphne Greengrass is an abominable influence on you,” Hermione told him as they walked toward Defence Against the Dark Arts.

“Actually, Zabini gave me this,” Harry retorted, gesturing to the fag.

He could hear her teeth grinding together and he regretted saying that. “Look, Hermione. I like Daphne. She’s great and very… grounding, you could say,” Harry explained. “And-” he paused, not knowing exactly how to word what he wanted to say. “I’m sorry I haven’t been paying much attention to you lately – it’s been a bit busy. I’ll try harder.”

“It’s fine, Harry.” Hermione’s stance softened. “I’ve just been wound up for the past couple weeks. Ron and I can’t speak without going at each other’s throats and he’s really frustrating. I didn’t mean to take it out on you, though I do disapprove of you smoking. However, I suppose you need to explore a bit… away from us, but you’re really the glue that holds us all together.”

Harry grinned. “That’s not exactly true. We couldn’t function very well without you – we all need each other equally.”

After all their various fallouts over the years, he had definitely learned that much.

He relaxed a bit when Hermione smiled. “Anyways. How’s it going with Daphne?”

How was it going with Daphne? That was hard question to answer. It was going fine, yeah, but… judging from last night and this morning-

“I think she may have gone round the twist,” Harry muttered. “She’s kind of all over the place, but at least it’s fine otherwise.”

Other than her lying about London. She really didn’t need to lie. It felt confusing and, strangely, a bit like betrayal.

“Round the twist, how?” Hermione inquired in her trying-to-figure-this-out-like-an-Arithmancy-equation tone.

“A bit erratic – more than usual. Ever since they investigated Malfoy, she’s been teetering on the edge of mad.” Harry paused for a thoughtful moment. “Speaking of which, Malfoy’s been going to the Room of Requirement and we’re very certain he’s up to something in there.”

“Not with the Malfoy stuff again,” Hermione groaned with a sigh. “You really haven’t enough...”

“He has the Dark Mark – Nott’s seen it!” Harry interrupted in a loud whisper.

Hermione’s shoulders sagged. “I know – I know, I can’t find a logical answer to that. Nott could be lying. But maybe he is up to something. Regardless, the only concrete, solid, proof you have is Polyjuice Potion. Which you should have taken to McGonagall like I said.”

“I told you! My word against his. I don’t have any proof that he specifically brewed it.”

They spoke in low hushed tones as they entered the Defence Against the Dark Art’s classroom. Harry spotted Ron sitting next to Seamus and waved as he and Hermione took their seats. “So we just have to wait for the Aurors…”

Harry nodded solemnly. With the amount of corruption going on in the Ministry at the moment, who knew how long that would take.

The door banged open loudly, making everyone in the classroom turn their heads toward the noise, and Snape sauntered into the room, his robes billowing more violently than usual behind him. “Turn to page 473,” he ordered.

Harry fought the urge to set his head on the desk and possibly bang it against the wood a few times as Snape started talking.

It was no wonder Daphne and Zabini smoked like chimneys – Harry was half tempted to join them. School was way too stressful to deal with on top of regular life, let alone with all the action that seemed to come at him like a speeding train.

Listening to Snape’s lecturing alone was enough to drive him to the habit. Harry sneered at his book and, with a silent sigh, he flipped it open to page 473.