Stop the Monster
Daphne Greengrass could see through the dim light of the hall, as the Girl-Who-Lived looked horrified. Well, not horrified. More mortified. If mortified and horrified were different. Maybe even a little disgusted and shocked. It was like the Girl-Who-Lived couldn't believe it was happening to her, even though it was likely a ninety percent certainty that her life wouldn't be that easy. And ninety-five percent certainty that she would be forced into the tournament.
Watching, Daphne felt a slight wince as the girl slumped her small shoulders in defeat and relented to follow instructions and began shuffling her feet, as she huffily moved from the Gryffindor table towards the side chamber door where the real Tri-wizard champions would be waiting in the Great Hall antechamber and find her presence confusing, and maybe even disrespectful.
The Girl-Who-Lived wasn't known for wanting to stand out so much in such ridiculous ways. Forced into 'heroics'. Forced to do stupidly adrenaline junkie like things that weren't all that fun.
Well, Daphne didn't think they would be fun. Not to her at least. Sure, some dangerous things might be fun under safe conditions where professionals were involved in their safety, but this was Hogwarts. Using the freaking stairs was a cautionary tale if you investigated it, as many people had fallen from them during the years when they moved unexpectedly. And the teachers didn't seem to care too much about the students' safety when it came to the dangers the castle presented.
Therefore, Daphne doubted that the teachers cared whether this silly tournament presented a hazard to its 'champions' or not. Even champions who would not have given entering the tournament too much thought before choosing not to bother trying to enter.
That lead Daphne to wonder who chose to enter the Girl-Who-Lived into this stupid game? (and if it wasn't Dumbledore and his 'light'), then what was Dumbledore thinking as even an idiot could have predicted some arsehole would force the poor Girl-Who-Lived to fight for her life; during a ridiculously dangerous tournament that had many times in the past before it was stopped for that reason, killed students.
The Ministry of Magic and the school had come up with the idea that they could make the tournament only for seventeen years and over and safer. But that didn't mean they were better than some younger students. The Girl-Who-lived was only fourteen; the same age as Daphne, but Daphne was certain the Girl-Who-Lived was more gifted and talented than most seventeen-year-old students, but that didn't mean she wanted to compete.
Daphne couldn't blame her fellow fourteen-year-old for hanging her head and not looking up, as so many people instantly jumped to conclusions. It was 'yay you're great' one moment and then 'accusations of evil attention seeking' the next. They didn't care for the truth. It was no wonder the girl didn't seem to be sleeping properly if those dark shadows around her pretty green eyes were any indicator.
Daphne wondered whether the girl could just use some love in her life, and that thought brought a creeping of blood to her cheeks and she tried to shake off silly thoughts as her imagination ran wild. The thought of the pair of them together; it was wrong on so many paths.
Slytherins and Gryffindors were not friend material and thinking like that was weird. She remembered their first year. Well it was before their first year. They kind of… well they literally bumped into each other.
Daphne smirked a little as she thought about how snarky and cold she was while the Girl-Who-Lived didn't seem to care. She was so bright and full of hope. The girl was annoying as she didn't let anything keep her down for long. She would bounce back in a few days.
The Girl-Who-Lived only wanted a normal year at Hogwarts, doing normal girl things, whatever they might be. Daphne felt bad for her, and she normally prided herself on her 'evilness'. Sure, Daphne supposed she wasn't evil-evil or anything, but that was how she and others looked after themselves from Slytherins that wanted to follow in their parents' footsteps as evil murdering incestuous basket cases.
It never held an appeal to her. Plus, she only had a younger sister, so they couldn't get each other pregnant. Well they could with magic but – Daphne shook her head as her mind tended to drift sometimes and if she didn't catch herself, she would lose track of herself in ridiculous thoughts.
Anyway, Daphne had much better things to do with her life than anything cruel that would get her repeatedly used by filth she would rather murder. Though, was it murder when killing dipshit murderers? That was kind of self-defence wasn't it? Though, she was nearly one-hundred percent sure most of her house didn't even know what their bits were for, and the rest were the normal students like herself, her sister, and best friend; if her crazy best friend could be considered normal.
Purists only 'mated' with pure-bloods for heirs and all that gobbledygook, but Daphne's mother had given her and her younger sister Astoria the most embarrassing talk in the existence of parental conversations. Luckily their arsehole Death Eater father had died years ago, shortly before Astoria was born. He was apparently killed for wimping out when the free Death Eaters cared about finding their Master when they all believed he was still around and not dead.
Daphne didn't care that her father was dead. He was a Death Eater. Their mother had played the part until he died; to protect herself and her children. With their father dead, Daphne and Astoria were free to not be Death Eater wannabe losers like so many of her house. The Death Eater babies could at least pretend to not be such arseholes; it would have made her life easier.
Anyway, Daphne knew that fools like the Death Eaters and their idiot off-spring would think twice about all their idiotic racist terrorism if the Ministry wasn't worthless, and ran by cowards, or Dumbledore and his little group of 'resistance' mage didn't take such a light hand to them. Kill or be killed (or worse) would have been Daphne's resolve. Or the teachers could just get rid of all the Hogwarts houses and force the purists to get on with muggle-born's and get to know they were just as magical as them.
That was also why Daphne felt for the Girl-Who-Lived. She had so much potential that went wasted because of those around her. But there was also something Daphne couldn't quite place when she watched the girl.
The Girl-Who-Lived had magic; powerful magic, which was noticeable when it came to practical application, but instead of encouraging her to learn in her free time the teachers had always seemed to ignore her talent or discourage such self-study. Though, they seemed to discourage that in all the students by making so many magical things seem so boring and a billion times more complicated than they had to be.
Perhaps if the school encouraged extra self-learning then they wouldn't be out powered when one mage decided to learn outside and become strong enough to take over the world. Daphne wouldn't have been surprised if the Gryffindor bullies of the time under Dumbledore's watch didn't push the Dark-arsehole over the edge and down that path of anger, hate, and loathing.
Daphne's mother had always encouraged her to become better than she was, to make alliances and friendships where necessary; so maybe now was a golden opportunity. It was common sense, which was why she was always looking towards the Girl-Who-Lived. She knew the girl was smarter than she let on, but she was also kind and sweet, and pretty with this amazing smile when she showed the real deal and not that fake one.
Daphne felt an odd tingling in her stomach while watching the Girl-Who-Lived, as if there was something she was missing.
The Girl-Who-Lived was sneaky, Daphne knew that. She managed to slip away from her 'friends' a lot, just to end up with her friends, the oddball, and the small feisty red-haired girl. Though, saying small, the Girl-Who-Lived was quite the short girl, so that's not saying much as both of her real friends were a year younger and still slightly taller than her.
The Girl-Who-Lived and her friends would then have some fun together; they were comfortable with each other and took some kind of sick joy in avoiding the fake friends, as they likely tried to use tracking magic, probably the bushy-haired busybodies idea, which was why it was failing miserably because she lacked any skill in practical application of magic, and had no imagination.
It wasn't just about reading the instructions, saying words and waving a wand. You also had to have a feel for the energies that ran through the blood, beneath the skin, and an understanding of the interconnectivity of the universe that a witch or wizard needed to feel while performing such complex magic as tracking. And it likely didn't help the fake friend that the Girl-Who-Lived was good at that sort of thing and moved the trackers to other people.
That amused Daphne because the pair of the fake friends were working for Dumbledore because goddess forbid, the Girl-Who-Lived had any non-Dumbledore approved friends who would love her unconditionally, even if she wasn't the Girl-Who-Lived, unlike the bad smells of Ronald the Douche Weasley and Bush-Gash Hermione Granger (word about annoyances like Granger travelled fast through the infamous Girl-Network).
Daphne almost smiled thinking about that. She heard from the reliable source of that gossip Brown who was in Grangers dorm. Well, she heard through her best friend Tracey as Tracey had no problem sharing gossip with outsiders for gossip in return. That was probably how all the girls in school knew that Pansy Parkinson was caught diddling herself a few weeks back on a first year Slytherin boys face scaring him for life.
Although that wasn't true, it was a hilarious outcome. 'The stay away from my little brother' jokes that were spreading round, and Pansy was absolutely confused as she didn't know what they meant and no one who knew, outside of Slytherin would ever want to have that kind of talk with her – or anyone for that matter. It was bad enough when a parent decided it was time to give 'the talk'.
Daphne reasoned boys were very slow and stupid as they didn't seem to have a clue even when they joined in the teasing. Though, that was likely because Girl-Network was closed to them and they only picked up on the teasing and thought it was funny to join in, which brought with it a whole new slew of rumours about Pansy's perverseness, which she didn't understand.
Daphne shook her head, mildly amused without showing it as her silver eyes stared around the hall in cold indifference. It was survival of the fittest at Hogwarts and Pansy just wasn't cut out for it, so she hung off that Malfoy prats every idiotic word, so he could protect her as he was just as oblivious to what the tease-fest of rumours was about, and he liked having minions.
Though, Daphne's mother had said that even the weak could become strong given the opportunity. Her mother hadn't elaborated, but she said strange things all the time and surprisingly, eventually Daphne figured them out; she did enjoy puzzles though. Daphne's mother had even said that bravery wasn't a trait like with the ambitious, hard-working, or clever.
She had wondered what her mother meant by that, but she had told her to work it out for herself like she usually would. It had taken a few years and she hadn't thought much on it until arriving at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
That was where the four schoolhouses existed though, to sort out the purists they should have been removed or changed so that the pure-bloods and none would be spread out into all four houses as Slytherin didn't accept muggle-born's and barely any half-blood's.
The houses were, Slytherin (Daphne's house) for the ambitious. Hufflepuff house was for the hard-working. Ravenclaw was for the clever. And finally, Gryffindor was a house for the brave.
Daphne had to hide her amusement behind her cold exterior when she finally realised what it meant. Gryffindors believed with all their arrogance that hard-working wasn't a trait and Hufflepuff took all the 'rest'; the so-called weaklings. No, she realised, bravery wasn't a trait as bravery was overcoming fear. Gryffindors took the rest. Gryffindor House took those who were afraid. Well, most of them were afraid in some form or another.
There wasn't anything wrong with fear. Daphne was afraid of being stuck as a Death Eater or some such – and bunnies kind of crept her out too and she had no idea why as she wasn't afraid of bats or spiders or snakes.
Anyway, the Gryffindors would deny their fear. But it was obvious. The fearful tended to strike out at others. They weren't smart enough to think things through rationally or look that deeply at themselves. Though, some like the Girl-Who-Lived were different. Maybe those different students from all four houses had nowhere else to go. They had no house for revolutionaries, adventurers, or conspiracy theorists, so they just had to pick one or something like that.
Therefore, most normal Gryffindor's enjoyed bullying Slytherins, putting down Hufflepuffs, and ignoring Ravenclaws. They were kind of irrational and didn't think before they acted.
Gryffindors put down the other houses when Ravenclaws would create new wonders in the world (if Dumbledore weren't shackling them). The Hufflepuffs would build and run lower offices as supervisors and managers working their way up the ranks. And the Slytherins would reach up beyond their station to earn much and control more, but that wasn't a bad thing if they had the talent and good intentions that didn't hide cruel intentions.
Gryffindors tried to claim some kind of moral high ground, but they were just as much bullies as Slytherins could be, if not more as many Slytherins didn't want to bother beyond some amusing house rivalry. After all, Slytherins were supposed to have at least a little cunning and it wasn't cunning to be throwing your weight around. Though, someone should tell Malfoy and his flunkies that as they didn't seem to get that part of Slytherin stereotyping.
But when the Slytherins did go out of their way to be arseholes (not including Malfoy and his loser patrol) tended to be more pathetic (the Slytherins that wanted to be bullying douche-bags). They stuck to that idiot Malfoy's attempts to get people into trouble (not that he was ever successful) because most of the time he didn't have the balls to fight his own battles, crying to his dad all the time when he lost, even while cheating.
If a loser like Malfoy couldn't even cheat and win, then he should call-it-a-day because he was likely going to lose time-and-time again – and eventually the winner might just push him off a cliff just to be rid of him. Malfoy and those like him made Slytherin house look worse than it was. It was no wonder nearly everyone believed all the carp about them all being totally evil jerks.
Daphne shook her head clear as she let her silvery grey eyes scan back to the Girl-Who-Lived, as she looked like she wasn't sure she heard right and paused at the antechamber door looking back at the teachers' just in case. However, she winced as Dumbledore nodded much too encouragingly and other teachers glared in spite and fury (well Severus Snape; the Potion Teacher and Head of Slytherin house did – but Snape hated Gryffindors on principle – though he hated the Girl-Who-Lived more than anything as Snape and her dad were enemies at school. Daphne didn't know why because her mum never said but got the impression the Girl-Who-Lived would certainly not like the revelation when she found out).
The hall was quiet except the slight angry buzz coming from students. But Daphne knew inside that pretty head the Girl-Who-Lived knew she heard right. She probably expected it somewhere if her previous year's adventures were any indicator.
Even the so-called loyalty of the Hufflepuffs didn't give the Girl-Who-Lived even the slightest benefit of doubt; no matter that the Girl-Who-Lived had been accused of many things and it was always proven she was innocent. She would eventually just not care in the end if they kept that crap up. Though, Daphne could sympathise and understand that a little as the Hogwarts Champion of this silly tournament was one of their own, and their house was denied such glory by better sports teams from the other houses, especially Gryffindor and Slytherin as of the last few years.
Then this was the Girl-Who-Lived. No matter how much she would want to hide and give the fame and glory away to the Hufflepuff champion no one would let her, especially that smarmy old headmaster.
"Senna Potter!" the old headmaster called again just to make sure she continued the last few feet to the antechamber and re-schooling his features from encouragement and giving her a look of reprimand from where he stood up front of the dimly lit Great Hall. He stood behind a goblet on a pedestal that's flames snuffed out after the unexpected fourth name exited.
Though, Daphne had never actually talked to Senna Potter once they were sorted into houses their first year, or really interacted with her more than watching her, she knew Potter would have never even tried to enter her name into the tournament.
The irony was most of the people glaring at Potter in loathing did. Potter seemed to sigh in resignation as she made sure not to look at any more of the angry faces. She then turned back to the antechamber doors and dragged her feet the last few feet.
Potter would have never tried to get across Dumbledore's age-line to get into the tournament – though ironically, she might have been one of the few people in the school to figure out how if she wanted to. Most of the rest of the school had actively tried to get around Dumbledore's rules and didn't see the bigoted actions they were taking in their jealousy of the only person who didn't want the attention getting it forced upon her young and unwilling shoulders.
Daphne watched for a moment before the Girl-Who-Lived finally disappeared into the side chamber, still wearing robes much too baggy on her small frame as usual, as when she wore normal clothes they fit right. Potter seemed to be smart enough to leave enough growth room, (as robes could be quite pricy to keep buying, and some people tried to keep school shopping to a minimum), so she didn't end up with robes that were too tight by the end of the year, and it was only Halloween. But Daphne wasn't sure that Potter would grow much taller – maybe an inch or two in the next couple of years if she was lucky, but who knew; maybe she would hit a growth spurt.
Daphne would have been tempted to buy her some robes that fit her correctly as she didn't mind shopping, but Potter was more of a practical girl when it came to magic-ware. But maybe that would be kind of crazy as Potter wouldn't know where they came from. It could have ended up backfiring.
Daphne had to hold in her anger as this was a hero who had everything taken from her as a baby and the magical world just wanted more. Senna Potter deserved more than she got, and Daphne felt an uncharacteristic compulsion to need to wrap Potter within her arms and cuddle her for as long as she could whenever she could and take away all the pain.
The magical world didn't have the right to ask for so much, let alone the fact they were demanding everything she had and draining Potter of all her emotional energy. The magical world didn't deserve anything more from that stunning creature.
Daphne listened as Dumbledore stood up front of the hall. He was suddenly smiling at everyone as if he had nothing at all to do with this turn of events. Daphne was sure a lawyer could prove that Potter didn't have to compete, and investigators could prove that she didn't enter herself, but knew Dumbledore wouldn't allow that. It would spoil the old bastards' plans – or fun – or whatever his problem was.
That made Daphne think for a moment. Dumbledore always sat back and watched as Potter struggled through everything, like he and monsters in white like him before would do.
To them the hero had to suffer until they either died or snapped and went on a rampage in which case the monster in white would come along and stop what they started.
The hero goes to jail or dies, and the monster gets the infamy and glory. Then the rest of the world wouldn't care that the real monster was a monster in phoenix feathers.
The monster needed to be stopped.
It sometimes happened. Sometimes the monster lost. Daphne found a cruel grin stretching across her lips as her cold silvery grey eyes left Dumbledore as she stood from her table when they were finally dismissed.
Her long black school robes fit her nicely, not too loose, but not tight, tied around her waist, and allowed her breasts to push up from under. She was quite big in the chest; she was like her mother like that, and her little sister was the same. And she was still growing.
Her hair was a light blond hung to her waist, held tightly out of her eyes by some hairclips and at the bottom with a black ribbon that trailed to her knees.
Daphne didn't like the way the self-styled good guys treated their saviour. The sacrifice of Senna Potter's mother had saved more than these light wizards, but her family too. They didn't even care to mention the muggle-born mother who sacrificed herself to save her daughter; something so many mothers in the magical world would never do, but Daphne knew her mother would have tried. Most of them were racists hiding behind Dumbledore's 'Greater Good'.
Daphne's family was dark, yes, but they would never want to join the filthy Death Eaters now that her jerk of a father was dead. Her mother had been threatened; mainly by her father and husband (both dead). Daphne had not long since been born. She had been threatened. It didn't matter that her mother was still technically 'dark'; her mother cared about her and her sister and would do what was needed to protect them.
Therefore, Daphne needed to do something. It wouldn't hurt to help the Girl-Who-Lived would it? It seemed like the prime opportunity. Yes. That idiot Weasley boy Dumbledore likely 'tricked' Potter into being 'friends' with first year would let his greed and jealousy push her away.
The idiot Weasley boy would come back, but by then, Potter would have other options; she would have reason to tell him to piss off; to tell him to leave her alone without the old man's interference. It would be the excuse she needed to have her real best friends by her side and lose the two arsehole Dumbledore worshipping losers.
With the Weasley boy gone, Granger's time would be split, but Potter would be broody and sulky, so she would spend more time with Weasley, and that was where Daphne came in. The Girl-Who-Lived had a different timetable to her real friends as they were in the year below, so she would have opportunity since her motives were clear as day.
Make sure the Girl-Who-Lived thrived in any and every new magic she could convince her to learn.
Daphne needed to get close to the Girl-Who-Lived, understand her, understand why she was the way she was. She needed to know what Dumbledore had forced on her; and save her, look out for her behind the scenes.
Frowning Daphne was startled when she came across that thought and had to fight to not smile.
To love her.
Daphne had already realised that these muggles Potter lived with hated her. Daphne didn't normally give muggles enough thought to hate them, and it was obvious they weren't all racist against mage (which she could mildly understand with morons like Death Eaters and sympathisers). Most of the muggle-born's had happy home lives with muggle families, so she could only hate Potter's 'family'.
Daphne knew she had to use this plot against the Girl-Who-Lived to both of their favour. It was a way to become her ally, and friend. To help her. To love her. And wonder whether she was thinking about love too much.
However, shaking off some distracting thoughts, Daphne needed to help Potter out of the Dumbledore worshipping stance of the world.
Light and dark.
Good and Evil.
Right and wrong.
In reality it wasn't that simple.
Daphne was supposed to be neutral, and she had to fight with herself to leave that and enter uncharted territory. But she was sick of a poor uninformed girl being treated like crap while she did more than any adult ever would or could even if they had all the facts.
"Daphne, are you up to something?!"
Daphne was startled as her best friend, Tracey Davis interrupted her thoughts and straightened out her expression quickly for cold nonchalance.
"Of course!" she agreed with her cool posh English accented voice at its coldest but didn't elaborate as they entered the dungeons.
"Umm… what...?" Tracey replied with a frown and a more Northern accent, which was a contrast to hers.
"It's none of your concern!" Daphne replied by interrupting before her best friend could question her more.
Daphne sighed within that moment as she swished her wand and deflected a charm from hitting some first years from the side and knocking the boy back into the far wall of the common room. There was always some jerk trying to show off to his friends by hazing a few first years.
A lot of Slytherins winced as the older boy shattered into the bricks and didn't get up as blood pooled from his head. Neither Daphne nor Tracey gave the boy much of a glance as they slipped from the common room and up the stairs towards their room.
The rest of the common room went about their business and ignored the fool who got his arse kicked while his face started swelling up with huge pus-filled boils. Most Slytherins didn't go around throwing hexes at first years and some of them would have likely gotten him for that as you don't attack your own for no reason (especially new first years). Slytherins did have some honour after all, and the prefects would inform him of his detention once he woke up.
They also didn't bully other houses first years as there was nothing in that for them (and left their own first years to battle other first years), but anyone else was fair game, but even then, most Slytherins kept to themselves and their own. Mainly because they needed to defend themselves, but they also had some little babies in their house who cried to mummy or daddy when beaten rather than fighting back or letting it drop like a normal person with better things to do.
Daphne led Tracey into their dorm room. Well they called it a dorm but, in their house, it was two to a room with a girl's floor that the boys couldn't get to without suffering worse than she dished that boy.
Well, it gave the boy one chance first. After all, the boy might have meant no harm and didn't know about the defences, so the first time just stopped them, noticeably so. It was the same way with boys' rooms, girls couldn't go there either. Not that they would want to visit a stinky boy's room. A lot of the boys had some serious hygiene problems without mothers or fathers forcing them to shower or bathe.
Tracey closed the door behind them while Daphne flopped down onto one of the two huge four-post beds and looked at her friend. Tracey was a bit of a tomboy. Her brown hair was smooth, short, loose, and ruffled but it suited her very well. Her eyes were brighter than Daphne's and a solid deep brown colour, and the light caramel colour of her skin was smooth and perfect. Her school robes were a bit baggier and her breast didn't show much of a bump through her robes.
"Well. I'm changing out of these stupid school robes. So, are you going to tell me what you're plotting?" Tracey asked hopefully as she was a lot bubblier when they were alone.
Daphne tended to keep her emotions in check even then. She didn't want to get too complacent and forget herself. She didn't want too many people to know the real her or that could ruin her image.
However, Daphne allowed herself a smirk. "Sorry, Trace, but maybe when I've thought through the finer details of what I'm going to do because I don't think you would approve."
Sighing Tracey rolled her eyes as she started on the buttons of her robe. "I don't think I approve of anything you think is a good idea, but you haven't screwed up or gotten us into trouble yet."
Daphne shrugged as Tracey pulled her robe off and threw it onto the other bed. She stood in her plain white panties, bra, socks, and black shoes for a moment before pulling off her shoes and socks, and then her bra and panties. Her boobs weren't big, but then they weren't small either. Her body was slim and even boyish in many ways with a light dusting of brown pubic hair, but she still had that girlish cuteness and suppleness in all the adorable and sexy ways a girl would want.
Tracey was oblivious to Daphne watching her while she was digging around in her trunk for a pair of comfortable blue PJ's (seeing both cute round little arse and pussy from behind, amused with her friends' ignorant antics) before pulling them on readying for bed.
It was nice that it was just two to a room as they didn't have to be shy about nudity or dressing as they were best friends. They even had a shower and toilet to themselves. Though, the toilet had no cubicle, which was kind of embarrassing using the toilet in front of each other at first (when they were ikkle firsties), but they got used to it that they could chat while on the loo watching each other, unconcerned.
The showering was a perfectly fine wet room, open to the toilet but maybe the designers were cheap, which was likely as there were about eight other girls toilets through the school with no cubicles that Tracey liked to 'powder her nose' in as many girls (mainly Slytherins and Hufflepuff, but the odd Ravenclaw-they hadn't seen a Gryffindor use one though) didn't seem to mind using them like Daphne did, which was why she avoided them.
They had heard that there were some boys' toilets like that too, but then boys were less fussy than girls, or so Daphne had heard. She didn't really care what idiot boys had to put up with anyway.
Shaking away those odd thoughts Daphne sighed as she did tend to have some mild form of ADD so she sometimes got distracted. It was probably why she watched the Girl-Who-Lived so much as she was always an interesting enigma wrapped in a gentle skin. Daphne would have to toughen the girl up.
Senna Potter needed to know how to tell dipshits to fuck off and leave her alone. She needed to stop being a pushover and start being opinionated. Daphne knew the girl had things she wanted to do and say but her 'friends' were louder and didn't care about what she liked. Daphne knew more about Senna Potter than that Granger girl and Weasley boy combined and they had barely talked.
Daphne even knew Potter's biggest secret. Well, it wasn't very well kept unless you were that ignorant. She didn't like playing quidditch. She moaned about it a lot, but all her 'friends' took from that was that her team's captain was a slave driver. He was, but Potter had tried to tell them that she only liked flying. It was an odd and rare event that Potter wasn't being bothered by her 'friends', but it did happen, and Daphne (not stalking her) had seen her reading broom racing magazines.
Potter obviously wanted to race in outlandish flying circuits. Daphne had to agree that that sounded more fun, and she had watched Potter flying very fast during matches once she saw the snitch. She out-raced every seeker, every time except that time she was attacked by dementors and fell from the sky.
Daphne still couldn't believe that Hufflepuff or the school considered that a win as the ghouls only attacked Potter. There should have been some sort of rule against interference, unless there was, and the teachers didn't care about that because she never lost, to 'teach' her some humility or whatever Dumbledore would bull-out.
Daphne had had to listen to the morons from her house trying to claim that Potter was weak because of how the dementors affected her. They didn't affect her like that because she was weak. They affected her like that because she had horrors hidden deep within her subconscious memory that would have those pricks pissing themselves at the slightest sound in the dark, but it only seemed to make her stronger.
That meant that Senna Potter had the will; she had the strength, and she fought her fears; she fought to survive. She just needed to start winning. She needed to show the world that she would not bow down before the Dark Lord, but she also wouldn't bow down before Dumbledore or the Ministry.
Senna Potter needed to be stronger than that. She needed to make her own mind up. She needed options for a better future, for herself and all the people who couldn't know and didn't want to know that Dumbledore was a monster. He was the greatest monster of the age. He should have been feared more than the Dark Lord because everyone not in the Dark Lords camp wanted to snuggle in his benevolence and false protection.
Daphne bet when Dumbledore led fools to their death their last thought would be something like: 'oh shite I sucked monster shit!' before falling into the fiery pits of whatever Hell they might or might not believe in. Though, thinking of that while suppressing a smile some would have been so badly groomed that they would still believe they did right in their celestial spirit realm (or whatever there might be) while gods or devils tell them that they're going to hell, and that it was Dumbledore's fault.
"Umm… Daph; you've zoned out!" Tracey interrupted her thought process, but Daphne had slapped away her friends' hand as she had been waving it in her face. "Still manage to be here at the same time; you amaze me, girl. But unless you plan on going to bed in your robe and undies and complain again about how uncomfortable it was you should get changed into your jammies!"
"Oh, right," she said sheepishly as she stood up and started pulling off her robe and dropping it to the floor before letting her boobs out of her plain white bra and dropping that too while she sat on the bed to take off her shoes.
"Wow. You're just gloating again that your gorgeous white tits are so much bigger than mine, Daphne!" Tracey interrupted giggling as she grabbed her best friends firm, supple tits and they overflowed from her hands as she had a feel. "They've gotten bigger than last year. I'm so jealous mine are so small. But I'm not interested in using magic to make them bigger or something stupid like that; I heard that it can go wrong and can be painful."
Daphne didn't care about her friend's obsession with boob size, or her boobs; she half glared at her groping friend as she played with them while Daphne pulled her shoes and socks off. Daphne liked how it felt but she wouldn't ever mention that as she had large hard pink nipples already and Tracey no doubt knew that, but she didn't say anything embarrassing either.
Tracey pulled back quickly as Daphne swatted at her hands, pouting after only getting a few seconds of feel time. "That's not fair. Your sisters' boobs are quite big too, but not as big as yours. Did I tell you she let me have a look yesterday? They're not as big as yours but they feel just as nice. I got a couple of squeezes in before she realised."
Sighing Daphne rolled her eyes. "Yeah. You perving on me and my sister is kind of weird," she replied. "Astoria said to tell you that you are a super pervert and still owe her a box of that tea you brought back from Japan!"
"Oh, I gave her that earlier today," Tracey said sheepishly. "It's really good tea."
"Yeeeeah!" Daphne drew out while rolling her eyes. "And you're paying cute girls to show you their tits in tasty tea?"
"Nooo, Daph, just your sister; that one time," Tracey said with a sheepish shrug as she eyed Daphne's bare chest while licking her lips.
"Tracey, I love you; as a best friend should," Daphne said while rolling her silver eyes, "and I don't care what kind of antics you get up to with other girls. However, I think this should stop. You can't just go around groping unsuspecting tits.
"If you like other girls I don't care. I'll love you no matter what. We've been friends for years and that won't change," Daphne continued. "That is why I let you get away with quite a lot, as long as you don't push too far, but I don't love you like that. You're hot and cute and sexy and everything. And I don't care that you like other girls and want to touch them, but if you're not careful you'll end up 'offending' some idiot with your quirkiness and get into trouble, maybe even hurt. And I don't want to have to go on a vengeance kick to avenge you if I can help it; it's too troubling.
"You should go and find a like-minded girl who wants you to touch her, and to touch you too because I'm cutting you off with your odd obsession with my boobs. Understand?"
"Yes," she agreed looking down at her bare feet sadly pouting with bright red cheeks while Daphne didn't help matters as she pulled off her boring white panties and showing off her slightly damp fanny with blonde pubic hair.
Daphne gave Tracey as rare loving smile before digging out her plane white PJ's (they were apparently copied from the muggle world since loads of magic-raised witch students had asked for them over the years and night gowns were a little old fashioned, and some witches did like to improve their wardrobes). She pulled on her pyjamas while internally shaking her head at the silliness of her best friend. Daphne did wonder whether she could get some cuter PJs though, if she went into the muggle world some day.
Tracey was surprised that Daphne pulled her into a cuddle once in her PJ's, which was out of character before she pulled back, and gave her another rare smile and kissed her best friends' cheek before sliding into the nearest bed. They never cared which bed they slept in since it was just them, and it didn't really matter as both windows were either side of their beds looking out a few floors above the lake as they were higher up being fourth years, and the windows under the lake in the common room was off-putting with all the creepy fish and things swimming by.
"B-but who would want to love me like that?" Tracey asked timidly as she climbed into the other bed and slumped onto her pillows.
"You're pretty, cute, and fun, even though I don't show you or anything," Daphne replied while yawning. "I'm sure that no matter what there would be multiple cute girls, maybe even with big tits for you to play with who will fall madly in love with you, and you'll fall madly in love in return, so don't give up!"
"Will they be… you know… white?" Tracey suggested while sounding sheepish and embarrassed.
Daphne couldn't quite contain her snort of laughter. "Sure, a cute piece of tail like you can get almost any girl you want. Especially the white ones."
"Pale skin with freckles?" Tracey added with a small laugh of her own.
"Yeah… they will contrast adorably with your dark skin. You caramel goddess, you," she replied with a mocking eye roll that Tracey couldn't quite appreciate as she couldn't see her. "Wait a minute. I'm pale and have freckles," Daphne complained as she looked over at her friend with a pouty glare.
"More noticeable freckles?"
"Potter is not for you!"
"She's the first girl you thought of?"
"We just watched those morons screw her over with this whole tournament thing. So, sue me. She is on my mind more than normal."
"Yeeeah, okay. Cutie-pie Potter is off my menu," Tracey agreed with a snicker and Daphne rolled her eyes as she snapped her fingers and the lights faded off only leaving the starlight shining through the curtains.
"But anyway," Tracey continued through a yawn. "Thanks for being such a great friend, Daphne. I love you too, and thanks Daphne!" Tracey continued as they snuggled under their separate covers. "I love you," she said in a kind of sisterly way.
Daphne grinned through the dark. "Good night, Tracey."
Smiling herself, Daphne let her eyes drift closed, and the girls were soon drifting off into dreamland. Tracey dreaming of all the cute white girls with firm tasty tits of all sizes, she could flirt and play with, and Daphne dreaming of Senna Potter; the Girl-Who-Lived.