Worthy Of Magic

Part 9 - The Christmas Ball

She had been waiting for an opportunity for two years now. She was nine when her father died; she hadn't really understood the significance. She was ten when her heart turned to stone; family friends turned coat, her mother broken, sister sheltered and she, an outlet for her mother's anger. And by the time she was eleven, she desired payback for all she wished she never had to endure. Now she was running towards twelve and the chance of a lifetime was right before her; all thanks to a boy she had met in a bookstore.

The mirror reflected a pretty picture. A young golden hair girl with dark blue eyes wearing a light blue robe which her mother had bought her for her eleventh birthday. They were not grand like the robes she used to be gifted regularly when her father was alive. They were from Madam Malkin's, from their cheapest and prettiest collection.

She nervously smoothened the kinks around her waist and prayed everything would go as she planned.

"Watch over me dad," she whispered.

A moment later, her sad eyes hardened and she picked up the purse she had taken from her mother's cupboard without her permission. It was green with a silver strap. She slung in around her neck and patted the bag carefully. Inside it was her gift for the Malfoy's.

A gift that she had made herself; after three months of studying and practising with Harry Potter as her motivation and inspiration. If it weren't for him, she doubted she'd ever have the focused drive to do what she planned to do and succeed.

Daphne took a deep breath, straightened her back and walked out of her dorm, towards Professor Snape's office.

When she reached, Harry was already there, wearing his school robes and watching a portrait of a sea of serpents under a stormy sky with his mouth half open and eyes wide open.

"Harry," she said brightly with a tone of relief. She had been afraid he wouldn't turn up.

Harry turned to look at Daphne, acknowledged her presence and turned back to look at the hissing portrait.

Daphne frowned. Professor Snape had put that portrait next to his personal chambers with the purpose of reminding those who came to disturb him that he was liable to strike and his temper was always foul.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked carefully. She knew he didn't like being disturbed when he was absorbed in something.

"Yes," he said.

Daphne knocked on the door. It was ten minutes to eight after noon.

The door opened with a creak and Professor Snape glared down at the intruder.

"Professor," Daphne squeaked.

"Right on time Ms Greengrass," he said silkily. His expression turned dark however, when he noticed Harry beside her.

"May I ask what is Mr Potter doing with you?"

"He's coming with me Sir. We were both invited."

Snape frowned. "And with whose permission is he allowed to leave?"

Daphne was floored. Harry needed permission? Whose? His head of house?

"Err," she said eloquently. "I was unaware he needed permission Sir."

"This is a boarding school and Mr Potter's guardian is the headmaster. I'm afraid I cannot let him go with you."

Harry's eyes snapped towards Snape. "I want to see the library," he said with a frown. Why was this man standing in his way? He wondered.

"The library is not here Mr Potter," Snape said with a sneer. "Has your sense of direction been addled Mr Potter?"

"Please sir," Daphne interrupted hurriedly. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore wouldn't mind. If you could be so kind as to floo and ask him, I'd be really grateful Professor."