A/N: It might seem like the story progresses quickly and that is because it is intentional. Book 1, to me, is more like a prologue that was created for him to get strong. That is why I might add mini chapters like this one.
Let me know if anyone wants more chapters like this one.
Absorbed Cards: Ezio Auditore – Assassin's Creed, Shadow Clone Jutsu – Naruto, Force Push – Star Wars, Zuko (Book 3) – Avatar: TLA
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It might be a shitty thing to do to Harry, to get close because I need him, but that doesn't mean I can't try to be a real friend.
He still hangs around Ron when he is in his common room, but he knows to go where he found me before to unwind. We have been covering a lot of bands we like.
I noticed a pattern, many bands from the 70s still exist like the Sex Pistols, Ramones, Led Zeppelin, and the Rolling Stones. Others like Queen and AC/DC don't.
That is why I am recording new lyrics when Harry arrives.
"Take me down to the Paradise City
Where the grass is green and the girls are pretty"
I sing softly while using my wand and spell to create and record the instruments.
"Woah, that sounds great," he says as he sits down on a stone bench.
"Thanks. Ever tried singing before?" His eyes widen in fear as he shakes his head.
"Sorry mate, you're asking for the impossible." he says.
"You never know." I smirk.
"So, why do you look down?"
He plays with the edge of his sleeve.
"I..it's just overwhelming. The way people look at me." He says as if he can finally release what he's been thinking.
"The Boy Who Lived" He scoffs.
"I'm no savior. I don't even know how I defeated Voldemort that night…I just want to be Harry, you know?" He asks as he keeps looking down.
"It's tough. We all grew up hearing about Harry Potter and his great magical adventures. I remember my brother Felix bought me one of the books when I was five." I say reminiscing.
"You have to show them, Harry." I say, voice firmer now.
"Show them who you really are. It won't be easy but start by talking more to your fellow Gryffindors then to other Houses. A greeting here and there would do wonders."
He looks at me in bewilderment.
"Mate." I say as I pat his shoulder. "You only hang around Weasley and to be frank, he scares off any others who want to get to know you."
"I'm not telling you what to do, but you want to be seen as just Harry then give them the opportunity to do so."
Realization finally blossoms in his eyes.
"Now, have you ever tried learning an instrument?" I smirk. "I think you'll be brilliant on the drums."
<><><><><><><>
I hate this.
I hate this.
I curse Timothy under my breath for sending me on this diplomatic suicide mission. I can still see his smug, too-handsome face when he handed me a scroll and said, "Tracey, you're the only one who can do this with enough charm and chaos."
Ugh. Bastard.
I find her in a hidden nook near the far end of the library, surrounded by books stacked higher than my patience. She's hunched over parchment, hair frizzy, quill flying like it's trying to escape.
Deep breath, Davis.
"Hey!" I say with forced cheer, walking up with what I hope is an approachable smile. "Hermione, right?"
She jumps like I fired a spell. When she sees my Slytherin colors, her eyes narrow.
"Yes?" she says curtly. "What do you want?"
Okay. Cool. Definitely not feeling like a bug under a microscope.
"I, uh... noticed how clever you are," I start, mentally kicking myself. "And I've been struggling with Transfiguration, and I was hoping you could help?"
She squints suspiciously. "I'm not doing your homework."
"I didn't ask you to," I say quickly, hands up. "I swear, this isn't a trick or a setup. I know I look like trouble—"
"You do," she interrupts.
Merlin's knickers, this girl's like a brick wall with a wand.
"I just... really need help. My friends are busy. I figured, if I was going to ask for help, might as well go to the top."
That makes her blink. Slight confusion. I push on.
"I can pay in... chocolate frogs?" I offer, hopeful.
"I don't like sweets."
Of course you don't. Of course.
"Okay, how about a... Notes-Quill?"
She tilts her head. "A what?"
"It's voice-activated," I explain, pulling it out of my bag. "You talk, it writes. Super useful. Especially when your hand cramps after six pages of notes. Learned that the hard way."
She hesitates. Debates internally. Then... slowly nods.
"Fine," she says. "But don't waste my time."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I say. "Mostly because I'm scared of you now."
She raises an eyebrow. "Good."
I sit down beside her, pull out my actual homework — which I genuinely need to do — and try not to flinch every time she critiques my wand angle or mutters "honestly, how are you passing?"
By the end of it, I've only been insulted three times.
Progress.
And maybe, just maybe... she smiles once when I curse my inkwell for being "traitorously empty."
<><><><><><><>
The common room was quieter than usual. Most of the younger years had gone to bed, and the ones left were either studying or pretending to.
Daphne sat across from me, flipping through a worn copy of Advanced Magical Theory. Her posture was as perfect as ever, but her eyes weren't moving with the text. I could tell she wasn't really reading.
"He's getting stronger," I said.
She didn't look up. "Who?"
"Timothy."
Now she looked at me. Not surprised. Not suspicious. Just waiting.
"I watch people," I continued. "You know that. I don't care for politics. I stay out of the games everyone plays here. Who said what. Who's rising. Who's falling. It's all noise."
Daphne closed the book and rested her hands on top of it.
"But Timothy," I said, leaning back, "he doesn't make noise. He moves quiet. But everyone's starting to feel it."
She stayed silent. Letting me speak.
"He doesn't act like he's chasing power. He acts like he already has it. Like he's just picking when to show it. Every few weeks, something shifts. He duels better. He talks sharper. People stop asking questions when he walks into a room."
Daphne's eyes narrowed slightly. Not in suspicion. More like agreement.
"I don't mind it," I added. "He keeps our house out of petty nonsense. I don't have to deal with Malfoy trying to be something he isn't."
She nodded once. "He's not interested in petty."
"No," I said. "He's playing a longer game. And the thing is, he's not pretending to be a leader. He doesn't need people to follow him. They just do."
Daphne smiled, faint but real. "You sound impressed."
"I am," I admitted. "I like watching from the edge. But it might be time to show what the Black Widow's son is capable of."
She tilted her head. "We all grew up together. It's time to show our friends what we're capable of."
"Exactly. I won't fall behind." I said. Then I leaned back and let the quiet stretch. We were both thinking the same thing.
She didn't reply. Just turned a page like she hadn't been planning something already.