Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Duality

Wrackspurts… or Alcohol

by andafaith

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, darkness, growing up, and getting over yourself. Harry ...

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: NC-17 - Genres: Drama,Romance - Characters: Harry,Hermione,Luna - Warnings: [!!!] [?] - Published: 2013-09-25 - 6838 words

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Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading and thanks for all of your reviews and ratings! I hope you enjoy!

Important Note: All that is quoted and paraphrased from the Half Blood Prince is marked with a subscript. The proper citation is below.

Disclaimer: All hail the great JK and Luna Lovegood.

Duality: Wrackspurts… or Alcohol

oOo

Luna was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs in the entrance hall, dressed in a spangled gown that was shaped like a Christmas tree. It was a lot less garish than he expected and he was shocked to find that she had even left off the radish earrings and the butterbeer cap necklace she usually sported. Harry shifted in his old dress robes that he wore to the Yule Ball years ago. He had gotten Dean to tailor them to fit, since he had grown quite a bit over the last two years. Harry never was good at sewing spells. ₁

"Of all the girls you could have asked, you picked Looney Lovegood?" Ron whispered to him when he spotted Harry's date, smoothing down the front of Neville's bulky robes he'd hired. Lavender trailed behind them, glancing around the entrance hall angrily. They had tried to avoid her, but she caught up with them somewhere around the second floor. ₁

"So where is she?" Lavender asked in a huff, staring at Ron accusingly.

Harry's eyebrows rose and he took his chance to sneak away from the inevitable lover's spat that would ensue, only to bump straight into Daphne. She steadied his shoulders. "Hello, Potter," she drawled, her eyes discreetly appraising him.

Surprised, Harry stared at her for a moment, his eyes wide and his heart feeling as if it was in his throat. She looked… Why did she have to look so bloody gorgeous? The wispy silvery-white gown left little to the imagination and he became suddenly aware of the groups of people lined up, watching the scene. Wrenching himself away from her, Harry glared for the benefit of the audience and calmly walked past her, suppressing the contrasting emotions that were welling up inside him.

"Come on, Weasley. Before I curse your girlfriend silent, yeah?" Harry faintly heard Daphne say as he moved over to Luna. All of the girls gathered around the entrance hall seemed to glower at him resentfully as he approached his date. From up close, Harry thought Luna looked quite nice too, but he felt a little guilty that she wasn't necessarily his first choice of date. He threw her a grin to cover up the guilty look that was starting to spread. He really needed to treat his friends that mattered a lot better.

"Hi," he greeted, glancing out of the corner of his eye at a dark-haired girl, who pointed at Luna's dress and giggled loudly. "Shall we get going then?"₁

"Oh yes," Luna said in a vague cheery tone. "Where is the party?"₁

"Slughorn's office." Harry led her up the set of marble stairs, away from the jealous harpies in the entrance hall. To his relief, none of them followed. "Did you hear there's supposed to be a vampire coming?"₁

"Rufus Scrimgeour?"₁

"I – what?" Harry asked, his brows furrowed. "You mean the Minister of Magic?"₁

"Yes, he's a vampire," Luna said, matter-of-factly. "Father wrote a very long article about it when Scrimgeour first took over from Cornelius Fudge, but he was forced not to publish by somebody from the Ministry. Obviously, they didn't want the truth to get out!"₁

Harry didn't reply. He was used to Luna repeating her father's insane ramblings enough to know that opposing Luna's point of view was pointless. The party was just around the corner anyway. They could hear the laugher, music, and the sounds of conversation growing louder with each step.₁

Nott was waiting for them by the door and gave him a curt nod, looking very poised and almost imposing in his dark dress robes. "Potter - Lovegood," he greeted. "How are your gerbils treating you?"

Luna's face lit up at the question and she launched into a gushing answer that Harry only half listened to, but he kept staring at Nott the entire time trying to dissect his expressions to find a motive. Nott actually seemed quite interested in the subject or, at least, he feigned interest very well. Harry didn't know what to think of it. He, at least, never thought that Nott, of all people, would be polite to Luna.

Nott ceased his conversation with Lovegood to greet Daphne and Ron, in a manner. "Daphne – I didn't expect you to ask Weasley." His tone was teasing.

Ron glared from beside Daphne and she smirked. "Be nice, Theo. We wouldn't want me to tell Lovegood your little secret now, would we?" she asked playfully, glancing over at Luna with an amiable smile.

"That wouldn't be very nice of you," Luna said in her usual dreamy tone.

"Not at all," Nott deadpanned.

Harry glanced between all of them, looking just as confused as Ron at the moment. He felt as if he were missing out on a big piece of information that he couldn't discern from the conversation. Unless… Harry glanced at Nott out of the corner of his eyes. Did Nott fancy Luna…? That was the only conclusion he could draw from the situation, bizarre as it was – and highly implausible.

"Shall we enter?" Nott asked, breaking the tension and holding open the door for Ron and Luna, Daphne shortly followed, but Harry put a hand on her shoulder, slowing her down so he could enter alongside her.

"What was that all about?" he asked in a whisper.

"That would be a bit difficult to explain," Daphne said with a strange look in her eyes that Harry didn't recognize until her gaze swept over him slowly. Harry swallowed thickly as she whispered, "You look good."

His heart seemed to want to lodge itself in his throat again. "You do too," he admitted, embarrassed by his inability to control the breathiness of his voice. He wished things were much simpler and that he had asked her to go instead of Luna. And he wished that they weren't constantly arguing, but that was beside the point.

With what seemed to be a sad grin, she tore her gaze away from him and moved forward, grabbing Ron's hand. She pulled him toward the mountains of beverages.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry caught up with Luna and glanced around the room, certain that it had been expanded by magic. The ceiling and walls were draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings to make it appear as if they were all inside a vast tent. Despite its size, the room was still crowded and stuffy. A haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were carrying heavy platters of food, carefully avoiding bumping into people.₁

"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn boomed as soon as Harry and Luna had squeezed through the throng of elderly warlocks, where they lost Nott. "Come in, come in, so many people I'd like you to meet!"₁

Gripping Harry's arm tightly, Slughorn led him into the party with a greedy glint in his eyes. Harry grasped Luna's hand and dragged her along with him, not wanting to leave her behind.₁

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires. And, of course, his friend Sanguini."₁

Worple's eyes widened from behind his glasses as he grabbed Harry's hand and shook it enthusiastically. Who Harry presumed was a vampire, Sanguini, nodded at him politely. He looked rather bored with the whole affair and his eyes glanced hungrily over at the gaggle of curious girls.₁

"Harry Potter, I am simply delighted!" Worple said. "I was saying to Professor Slughorn only the other day, 'Where is the biography of Harry Potter for which we have all been waiting?'"₁

"Er," Harry said, raising his eyebrows, "were you?"₁

"Just as modest as Horace described," Worple gushed. "But seriously. I would be delighted to write it myself. People are craving to know more about you, dear boy, craving! If you were prepared to grant me a few interviews, say in four- or five-hour sessions, why, we could have the book finished within months. And all with very little effort on your part, I assure you — ask Sanguini here if it isn't quite — Sanguini, stay here!"₁

The vampire had been edging toward the group of girls slowly as Worple was distracted by Harry. "Here, have a pasty." Worple took one from a passing elf and stuffed it into Sanguini's hand before turning his attention back to Harry. "My dear boy, the gold you could make, you have no idea-"₁

"I'm definitely not interested," Harry said, shaking his head. His eyes caught a long mane of brown hair as it disappeared between two members of the Weird sisters. "And I've just seen a friend of mine, sorry."₁

He pulled Luna after him into the crowd. "Hermione! Hermione!"₁

"Harry! There you are, thank goodness. Hi, Luna."₁

"What happened to you?" Harry asked, his eyes roving over her disheveled form. It looked as though she had just fought her way out of a nasty thicket of Devil's Snare.₁

"McClaggen tried to get me under the mistletoe and Zabini didn't quite like that. I got caught in a bit of a… well it's no matter now," she vaguely explained with a sigh, trying to straighten out her tangled hair and smooth down the wrinkled bit of her crimson dress. "Come on, let's go this way, we'll be able to see them coming, they're so tall."₁

"Sort of serves you right for coming with both of them," Harry hissed.₁

"I didn't know what to do about it! McClaggen wouldn't say no and Zabini…" – she shook her head – "–they served their purpose enough. I just didn't know it was going to be this bad."

The three of them made their way over to the other side of the room, taking goblets of mead on the way. Harry stopped short when he realized that Professor Trelawney was standing there alone. Maybe, if he didn't move, she wouldn't see him.₁

"Hello," Luna said politely.₁

Damnit, Luna, don't draw attention to us! Harry thought, glancing down at her with wide eyes.

"Good evening, my dear," Professor Trelawney slurred, blinking rapidly toward the Ravenclaw girl. Harry could smell sherry on her breath. "I haven't seen you in my classes lately."₁

"No, I've got Firenze this year," Luna said, shaking her head almost wistfully.₁

"Oh, yes," Professor Trelawney replied, snorting into her bottle as she took a drink. "Or Dobbin, as I prefer to think of him. You would have thought, would you not, that now I am returned to the school Professor Dumbledore might have got rid of the horse? But no! We share classes. It's an insult, frankly, an insult. Do you know…"₁

Harry drew closer to Hermione during Luna and Trelawney's conversation. "Let's get something straight first. Are you planning to tell Ron that you interfered at Keeper tryouts?"₁

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Do you really think I'd stoop that low?"₁

Throwing her a doubtful look, Harry whispered, "Hermione, if you're willing to take both Zabini and McClag-"₁

"There's a difference! I've got no plans to tell Ron anything about what might, or might not, have happened at Keeper tryouts."₁

"Good," Harry muttered. "Because he'll just fall apart again, and we'll lose the next match-₁

Hermione huffed. "Is Quidditch all you boys care about? Oh blast – Zabini." She moved so fast it was as though she had Disapparated. He barely caught her squeezing through a group of pipe-smoking wizards before she vanished.₁

"Have you seen Granger?" Zabini asked, gracefully sidestepping around the crowd.

"No – sorry," Harry replied, shaking his head.

"Don't fib, Potter, you were just talking to her. Is she alright? McClaggen is one nasty piece of work."

Harry's eyebrows shot up at the concern and he pretended that he didn't just hear that come from Zabini's mouth. It was too puzzling to acknowledge. "I thought you two were fighting over her."

Dusting off his – likely over-priced – burgundy dress robes, Zabini snorted. "I wouldn't call it fighting. I got rid of him. Now, if you would, please point me to where Granger ran off to."

"Er." Harry glanced around and pointed in the general direction where Hermione disappeared. "That way, I think."

"Thank you," Zabini muttered curtly before he went back to his sidestepping business. Harry's eyes trailed after him and landed on Daphne, standing in the corner with an older man dressed in a Muggle business suit, which Harry found strange. They seemed to be quietly chatting – and where was Ron?

Harry leaned down to whisper, "Would you mind if I went over there for a moment, Luna?" into Luna's ear.

Luna nodded, but the words that came out of her mouth formed a reply to Trelawney. Harry took that as a yes, though. Who knew with Luna? He'd be back soon. He didn't want to abandon her, but she seemed to be having a good conversation with Trelawney. He didn't know that such a thing could exist.

Pushing through a very happy and extremely pissed group of Irish wizards, Harry made his way slowly to the corner where Daphne was.

"…on the twenty-second," the business man drawled, sipping from his glass of wine.

"I suppose that'll work for me," Daphne said with a sigh. "Hello, Harry."

"Hi," Harry muttered, shifting on his feet. His resolve seemed to fly out the window into awkwardness at the moment. He felt as if he walked in on an important conversation, from the way the Muggle-attired bloke was looking at him. Harry tried to hold back a suspicious glance toward him.

"Eric, this is Harry Potter. Harry – Eric Johnson. He's Angelina Johnson's grandfather."

Daphne's introduction made things a little less awkward, but he was still rather wary of Eric and he couldn't put his finger on a reason as to why. There was something about him that struck Harry as untrustworthy.

"Nice to meet you sir," Harry said, reaching out to shake hands with him and watching him, trying not to show the wariness he was feeling.

"Please – call me Eric. I've heard quite a bit about you. Mostly surrounding Quidditch – Angie goes on and on about it whenever she visits." His voice was posh and he seemed well spoken, but Harry felt a sleazy undertone to it.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, she's a great chaser."

"That she is. I tried to make all the games, but it's difficult to travel long distance without magic. If only the Ministry could legalize magic carpets…" Eric trailed off looking over at Daphne, who gave him a sharp look. She took a long drag off her cigarette.

Harry's brows furrowed slightly. What would a Muggle be doing at Slughorn's Christmas party? Or maybe he was a Squib, which would make sense. From what he could remember, Angelina Johnson was a Pureblood. Maybe he was friends with Slughorn somehow? Yet… He glanced over at Daphne, who seemed very comfortable with Eric, as though they were well acquainted. Did she invite him?

"Erm, I apologize if I'm prying, sir, but how do you two know each other?" Harry said, gesturing between Daphne and Eric before he sipped his mead.

"Oh, we met ages ago," Eric said in a smooth tone.

"I brew potions for him from time to time, since he's not so great with a cauldron," Daphne explained, her lips quirking a bit as she took another drag off her smoke.

"Yes, among other things," Eric added. "I always like to help those in need of building their CV."

Nodding slowly, Harry had an inkling that they weren't telling the entire truth but let it slide, focusing on the real reason he came over there. "That's great. I just came over here to ask if Daphne had seen Ron."

"I left him by the alcohol. He didn't seem very keen on socializing." Bluish smoke trickled out of her mouth when she spoke and pointed toward the other side of the room, where pyramids of wine flutes and snifters full of alcohol glistened in the light. Faintly, he could see a patch of red hair peeking through the crowd.

"Thanks," Harry said. "It was nice meeting you…Eric."

"Of course. Pleasure's all mine."

As Harry tromped his way through the room, his instinct kept telling him that Eric had something to do with Malfoy and what Daphne was planning. Why else would he be at Slughorn's Christmas party? It was so out of place, but – judging by the crowd – any suspicious activities would go unnoticed amongst the guests unless you were looking for it.

But why would he mention that he wasn't a wizard? That made the whole situation stick out like a sore thumb. And why would Daphne need to get a Squib involved?

Johnson… Daphne must have mentioned him before. He swore that she did, but when?

Thoughts whirled around his head frantically as he found Ron leaning against one of the gold hangings that lined the wall, nursing an empty glass of Firewhiskey. "How's it goin' with Luna?" he asked, his speech slightly slurred.

"Fine," Harry said. "She's talking to Trelawney." Reaching for the empty snifter, Harry took it and set it on one of the silver platters passing by. "I don't think you should drink any more of that, Ron."

"Why shouldn't I?" Ron asked defensively. "Have you seen her cuddling up with Zabini and McClaggen like some common scarlet woman?"

He didn't even have to guess to know who he was talking about.

Harry heaved a sigh. He really didn't want to deal with that right now. "She can 'cuddle up' to whomever she likes. You have Lavender, or have you forgotten?"

But Ron ignored him. "Firs' Krum – now… them."

"Why don't you go find your girlfriend?" Harry asked, cutting Ron off. If he didn't interrupt, he knew there would be a drunken tirade. Ron wasn't the most graceful of people, especially when he was slightly tipsy. Or flat out drunk, like he was now. Ron didn't have a good tolerance for it.

"I don't wanna see either of them. Where's Greengrass?" Ron asked, looking around the room as he stumbled up from his spot against the wall.

"Erm…" Harry steadied his friend.

Harry heard Daphne's voice behind him. "Right here. I leave you alone for a few minutes and you're already completely sloshed?"

Stepping forward to loop her arm through Ron's, Daphne gave a laugh. "You don't hold your Firewhiskey well, do you? Come on. Let's let Harry get on with his date with Lovegood." She gave him a small grin and carted Ron away.

Persistently, Harry followed, catching up to them after he jumped over a house elf. "Hey! Wait a second. What were you doing with that Muggle bloke?"

"Johnson's a Squib," Daphne said offhandedly, rolling her eyes. "Though I can see why he would give you that impression."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and Daphne raised an eyebrow toward him. Johnson! That was the mysterious Johnson she was talking about with Nott? So he was right! That bloke was involved with the Malfoy plans somehow.

"What is it?" Daphne asked, staring expectantly at him, still grasping onto Ron.

Shaking his head, Harry muttered, "Nothing."

Her eyes narrowed, but then he heard her sigh and her face seemed to relax. "Go back to your date, yeah? Have some fun."

Ron bumped into him, swaying forward drunkenly on his feet, only to be caught by Daphne. His ginger-haired friend dazedly glanced at both of them with a confused frown on his face, hanging off Daphne as they stood near the door to the corridor.

Harry watched them walk out and he let out a breath, pivoting on his feet. He was incredibly torn. He wanted so much to follow her and Ron out that door and probe for answers. And yet something was keeping him from doing it. He didn't know what it was – maybe it was the idea of trusting her, but… Harry sighed, deciding to wander back over to Luna.

Maybe he had had too much mead. Or maybe he hadn't had enough mead and he took another pint of it, narrowly avoiding Slughorn and Nott. Unfortunately, he bumped into Hermione and Zabini, who looked as if they were actually enjoying themselves on their own. Harry shook his head and resolutely glanced in the other direction, pretending he just didn't witness that happening under the mistletoe. It was too much to deal with.

"Harry Potter!" Professor Trelawney said in grave tone, noticing him for the first time. Luna just smiled widely at him.₁

"Oh, hello," Harry said, cursing his luck. She didn't spot him before, why would he expect that to happen a second time? Good luck obviously didn't strike the same place twice.₁

"My dear boy…" she whispered. "The rumors! The stories! 'The Chosen One'! Of course, I have known for a very long time… The omens were never good, Harry. But why have you not returned to Divination? For you, of all people, the subject is of the utmost importance."₁

"Ah, Sybill, we all think our subject's most important!" a loud voice boomed and Slughorn appeared out of nowhere, carrying a mince pie and a large glass of mead. "But I don't think I've ever known such a natural at Potions," Slughorn gushed, throwing Harry a fond glance. "Instinctive, you know – like his mother! I've only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sybill. Why even Severus-"₁

To Harry's horror, Slughorn threw out an arm and scooped Snape out of the crowd like he was there the whole time.₁

"Stop skulking and come and join us, Severus! I was just talking about Harry's exceptional potion-making. Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years."₁

Snape's eyes narrowed as he stared at Harry. "Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all."₁

"Well, then, it's natural ability!" Slughorn shouted. "You should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, Draught of Living Death. Never had a student produce finer on a first attempt, I don't think even you, Severus-"₁

"Really?" Snape asked quietly, not taking his eyes off Harry for a second. Harry tried not to fidget under his gaze. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to start investigating the source of his newfound brilliance at Potions. ₁

"Remind me what other subjects you're taking, Harry?" Slughorn asked, taking a large bite of his mince pie.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology …"₁

"All the subjects required, in short, for an Auror," Snape said, sneering faintly.₁

"Yeah, well, that's what I'd like to do."₁

"And a great one you'll make too!" Slughorn chipped in.

"I don't think you should be an Auror, Harry," Luna commented suddenly and everybody looked at her. "The Aurors are part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, I thought everyone knew that. They're working to bring down the Ministry of Magic from within using a combination of Dark Magic and gum disease."₁

Snorting with laughter, Harry inhaled half his drink up his nose and emerged coughing and spluttering mead all down his front. Really, it had been worth bringing Luna just for this. The alarmed and contemptuous look on Snape's face alone was priceless.₁

"Professor Slughorn," a raspy voice called from behind Harry. Turning his head, Harry's brows furrowed at the sight of Draco Malfoy being dragged toward them by Filch's fingers grasping tightly at his ear. Daphne wasn't far behind them, discreetly following them and towing Ron with her. "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"₁

Malfoy pulled himself free of Filch's grip, glaring daggers at the caretaker. "All right, I wasn't invited," he muttered, his voice full of contempt. "I was trying to gate crash, happy?"₁

"No, I'm not!" Filch replied in a tone that contrasted the greedy look of glee on his face. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the headmaster say that nighttime prowling's out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"₁

"That's all right, Argus, that's all right," Slughorn said with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco."₁

Harry's stared at the scene in surprise, expecting Malfoy to be happy with getting to stay and escape punishment, but he almost looked just as disappointed as Filch. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Snape's expression tightened into indifference, morphing from having a hint of anger and even… fear? All of it was gone before he could even register it.₁

Malfoy graciously thanked Slughorn and Filch shuffled away, looking as if someone had just beaten his cat.₁

"It's nothing, nothing," Slughorn said, waving away Malfoy's thanks. "I did know your grandfather, after all-"₁

"He always spoke very highly of you, sir," Malfoy interrupted quickly. "Said you were the best potion-maker he'd ever known…" His eyes kept glancing over at Harry and then to somewhere in the crowd.₁

Slowly, Harry followed Malfoy's line of sight and caught Daphne, standing next to Nott. Nott was socializing with a plump witch with stringy gray hair and Ron was off to the side, staring at the scene. Harry's gaze moved back to Daphne and the predatory glint in her eyes as she looked at Malfoy gave him chills.

He broke away when Malfoy caught him staring and Harry kept his face expressionless, chugging down the rest of his mead. The odd expression on Malfoy's face seemed to scream at Harry that he knew about everything that was going on. But the sound of Snape's voice tore him out of his reverie.

"I'd like a word with you, Draco."₁

"Oh, now, Severus," Slughorn said, hiccupping, "it's Christmas, don't be too hard —"₁

"I'm his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be," Snape said curtly. "Follow me, Draco."₁

They left with Snape leading the way. Malfoy followed, a resentful expression bubbling up onto his face. Lost for a moment, Harry stood there, indecisive, and then he quickly whispered to Luna, "I'll be back in a bit — er — bathroom."₁

"All right," she said cheerfully – or, at least, he thought he heard her say as he hurried off into the crowd – before resuming the subject of the Rotfang Conspiracy with Professor Trelawney, who was much too interested to be sane. But when was Trelawney even remotely interested in anything normal?₁

Once out of the party, it was easy to pull his Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and throw it over himself. The corridor was deserted. What was more difficult was finding Snape and Malfoy. Harry ran down the corridor, the noise of his feet masked by the music and booming conversations coming from Slughorn's office. Had Snape taken Malfoy to his office in the dungeons? Or maybe he was escorting him back to the Slytherin common room…₁

Harry pressed his ear against door after door as he dashed down the corridor until he crouched down to the keyhole of the last classroom in the corridor and heard voices. Finally, he might be able to get some information instead of relying on Daphne all the time. His heart pounded excitedly.₁

"… cannot afford mistakes, Draco, because if you are expelled—"₁

"I didn't have anything to do with it, all right?"₁

"I hope you are telling the truth, because it was both clumsy and foolish. Already you are suspected of having a hand in it."₁

"Who suspects me?" Malfoy said angrily. "For the last time, I didn't do it, okay? That Bell girl must've had an enemy no one knows about — don't look at me like that! I know what you're doing, I'm not stupid, it won't work — I can stop you!"₁

There was a pause and then Snape quietly commented, "Ah … Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What thoughts are you trying to conceal from your master, Draco?"₁

"I'm not trying to conceal anything from him, I just don't want you butting in!"₁

Harry pressed his ear harder against the keyhole, certain that they were referring to Voldemort as him.

"So that is why you have been avoiding me this term? You have feared my interference? You realize that, had anybody else failed to come to my office when I had told them repeatedly to be there, Draco—"₁

"So put me in detention! Report me to Dumbledore!"₁

There was another pause. Then Snape said, "You know perfectly well that I do not wish to do either of those things."₁

"You'd better stop telling me to come to your office then!"₁

"Listen to me," Snape said quietly, his voice so low now that Harry had to push his ear against the keyhole so hard it almost hurt in order to hear them. "I am trying to help you. I swore to your mother I would protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow—"₁

"Looks like you'll have to break it, then, because I don't need your protection! It's my job, he gave it to me and I'm doing it, I've got a plan and it's going to work, it's just taking a bit longer than I thought it would."₁

"What is your plan?"₁

"It's none of your business."₁

"If you tell me what you are trying to do, I can assist you—"₁

"I've got all the assistance I need, thanks, I'm not alone!" ₁

"You were certainly alone tonight, which was foolish in the extreme, wandering the corridors without lookouts or backup, these are elementary mistakes—"₁

"I would've had Goyle with me if you hadn't put him in detention! And I would have had Crabbe too if you had stopped him from getting expelled!"₁

"Keep your voice down!" Snape whispered with a dangerous edge to his voice. "I very well could not stop his expulsion even if I had a say in it. It was your fault for allowing the buffoon to go about polyjuiced without supervision. And as for Goyle, if he intends to pass his Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. this time around, he will need to work a little harder than he is doing at pres—"₁

"What does it matter?" Malfoy asked rhetorically. "Defense Against the Dark Arts — it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act? Like any of us need protecting against the Dark Arts—"₁

"It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco. Where do you think I would have been all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if you are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle—"₁

"They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!"₁

"Then why not confide in me, and I can—"₁

"I know what you're up to. You want to steal my glory!"₁

There was another pause, then Snape said coldly, "You are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but—"₁

Harry barely had a second's warning; he heard Malfoy's footsteps on the other side of the door and flung himself out of the way just as it burst open. Malfoy strode away down the corridor, past the open door of Slughorn's office, around the corner, and out of sight.₁

Harry remained crouched down as Snape emerged slowly from the classroom, not daring to breathe. Snape, thankfully, didn't spare him a glance. His expression was unfathomable as he returned to the party while Harry remained on the floor, hid den beneath the cloak, his mind racing. Everything he had heard from Daphne was definitely confirmed in that short amount of time, but there was yet another question on his mind: What the bloody hell was an Unbreakable Vow? And why did Snape make it seem like it was such a big deal?₁

oOo

It took Harry a few minutes to pick himself up off the floor and return to Slughorn's party. When he entered the room, he spotted a noticeably tipsy Ron talking animatedly to some Slytherin seventh year girl, who seemed to be giggling into her wine. Daphne wasn't far behind Ron, looking over the two out of the corner of her eyes with a satisfied smirk as she chatted to Sanguini. Harry idly passed her, tuning into the conversation briefly and not understanding one bit of whatever language they were speaking. Yet another thing that he didn't previously know about Daphne.

Did they really not know each other at all? No, that wasn't true. She knew him pretty damn well. But she wasn't particularly forthcoming about herself and he was all too – stupidly – willing.

Harry sighed, heading over to where he left Luna. She was still standing there with Trelawney, who was half passed out against the wall. Grateful for the lack of Trelawney, Harry grabbed Luna's hand and pulled her away from the dozing Seer.

"Did you have trouble finding the bathroom?" Luna asked, peering up at him and squeezing his hand. "I've noticed that mead attracts wrackspurts much better than soggy bread on a spring morning."

Harry blinked. "No, I didn't have any trouble. Do you know what an Unbreakable Vow is?"

Why he was asking Luna, he had no idea, but she answered him without preamble.

"Oh, it's a mutual agreement between two parties where either party may die if they don't follow through with the agreement. It was rumoured that when Newt Scamander went to Sweden, he made an Unbreakable Vow with the Sveriges Konung not to reveal the location and existence of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Daddy says that-"

Harry's brows furrowed through her conspiratorial ramblings that he only half paid attention to. So Snape… made an agreement with Malfoy's mother to protect Malfoy and if he didn't protect Malfoy, Snape was going to die? That was a bit far, even for Snape. Especially given that the person he was protecting was Malfoy. Then again, Malfoy was Snape's little… pet minion.

But protect Malfoy from what? From Voldemort? No, Malfoy was a Death Eater now so that couldn't have been it… Maybe Snape was protecting Malfoy from Dumbledore. But why in the world would Snape do something like that? Especially if he was truly a member of the Order. And why in the world would Snape offer to help Malfoy as well?

Of course, Dumbledore told him time and time again to trust Snape, but there was no way that he could – especially after all this. Snape's true colours were starting to show. Harry wished that he could march straight up to Dumbledore's office and say, 'Ha! I told you so!'

But then again… There was a niggling voice in the back of his mind that sounded a lot like Hermione: 'Obviously, Harry. Snape was just trying to convince Malfoy to tell him what he was up to!'₁

After he had seen Nott at work and learned many techniques on how to get information out of a person, he wasn't completely convinced that Snape was a traitor, unfortunately. He really wanted to believe that Snape was, considering the Unbreakable Vow and his offer to help Malfoy with whatever Malfoy was doing. However, offering to help and mentioning an Unbreakable Vow could have just been lies to tip Malfoy over into telling him. That would have been an obvious answer to all his questions if only Snape hadn't sounded so serious about it all…

It was too convincing of a performance for Harry to believe it was all an act. Yet… Nott… well, Nott was really good at lying. Snape was probably just as good, if not better, if he had Voldemort fooled. Or Dumbledore. Whoever Snape was trying to fool.

Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair, sorting through his thoughts. He didn't know what to think – he needed to speak with Hermione or Ron or, hell, even Nott. Maybe they could help him figure it out – or get it all in order. Then, he realized that Luna was staring up at him with her brow creased.

"Are you feeling okay, Harry?"

"Erm – sorry, Luna," Harry muttered. "Must be the wrackspurts," he added with an idle smirk.

Luna nodded sympathetically. "I have something that may help with that in my dormitory if you like. The party seems to be dwindling."

Plucking a snifter of Firewhiskey off a passing tray, Harry gulped it down – a vague attempt of getting rid of his reeling thoughts. He surveyed the party, eyeing Daphne briefly. She looked quite occupied and he really didn't feel like being there anymore. "Alright," he said with a nod and a breathy cough, setting the empty glass down on a different tray. "Lead the way."

Slughorn's dwindling party was dreadfully boring anyway.

.

"I had a lovely time, Harry," Luna dreamily intoned as they walked through the corridors toward the fifth floor. All the mead he drank and that snifter of Firewhiskey were starting to hit him and everything went a bit wobbly. No wonder Ron was so effected after a few shots. Firewhiskey was no joke; his throat still burned from it.

The stairs looked unstable.

"That's good, I'm glad," Harry replied, staring down at her. Luna's eyes seemed more blue than usual. His musings on them cut through his Snape, Malfoy, and Daphne-filled thoughts. There were even little specks of deep azure in them that glowed metallic every time the moonlight hit them just right. He ungracefully tripped up the stairs as he realized that. Luna, thankfully, steadied him before his face hit the ground.

"Oh, I knew I should have brought my spectrespecs with me. I've never seen a worse case of wrackspurt infestation." Luna's fingers were buried in his hair and her protruding eyes searched his scalp in a way that reminded him of the time when he was primary school and the teacher had to inspect him for head lice. Her fingers tickled as they ghosted over his ears and Harry caught her hands in his, carefully pulling her off.

"I'm fine, Luna. It's really just the Firewhiskey," he reassured her, but she didn't look convinced as they carried on up the stairs. She softly kept a hold on his hand, interlocking their fingers. In his bleary state, it was rather grounding.

"If you're certain," she said with an almost indiscernible shrug. They were just outside the corridor that led to Ravenclaw Tower. "Wrackspurts are known for their ability to deceptively distract – they could be making you think that."

He had to get her off the topic of wrackspurts, even if it was a bit amusing, but it seemed to overly concern her. "You know, I had a good time tonight too, Luna," he said, gripping her hand a bit tighter. He noticed that her fingernails were painted to match her dress, with little twinkling stars sprinkled all over them. "I'm glad I brought you."

He did have to admit, even if she wasn't his originally planned date and she was dressed up like a Christmas tree, he didn't regret asking her one bit.

And it was worth it if it made her smile like that. Her face practically lit up, as if he had just told her where to find a nest of Crumple-Horn Snorkacks. It was infectious. His stomach felt all warm and bubbly, but that was probably from the Firewhiskey or maybe the mead, or maybe he was just a bit more than fond of Luna and not willing to acknowledge that. He didn't understand why people were so mean to her for being a little weird. She was one of the nicest people he had ever met. Definitely nothing like Daphne.

"Thank you. For bringing me." She paused, momentarily glancing at their laced fingers. "And walking me back. Are you sure you're fine? I have something in my dorm that'll clear up the wrackspurts…"

"Yes, I'm sure," Harry said, nodding insistently.

And it could have been the Firewhiskey or maybe the mead, or even the warm bubbly feeling in his stomach, but he couldn't help but lean down and place a chaste kiss on Luna's cheek. Her eyes were even brighter and dreamier than usual when he pulled away. "Happy Christmas, Luna."

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

oOo

₁ Rowling, J.K. (2005). Chapter 15: The Unbreakable Vow. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (US edition) (pp. 314-324). New York, NY: Scholastic Inc.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading and please review!
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