บท 37: 31: Ice Queen of Hogwarts
< Stats >
< +8 to Body, +5 to Mind, +7 to Soul >
< Body: 43+8=51/100+ >
< Mind: 51+5=56/100+ >
< Soul: 46+7=53/100+ >
< Combat >
< +2 to Melee, +3 to Dueling, +3 to Awareness, +5 to Agility, +8 to Tactics >
< Melee 5+2=7/100, Dueling 48+3=51/100, Awareness 39+3=42/100, Agility 40+5=45/100, Tactics 40+8=48/100 >
< Magic >
< +1 to Wanded Magic, +1 to Charms, +2 to DADA, +2 to Runes, +3 to Dark Arts, +4 to Occlumency, +5 to Wandless Magic, +10 to Black Blood Magic >
< Wanded Magic 60+1=61/100, Charms 59+1=60, DADA 61+2=63/100, Runes 54+2=56/100, Dark Arts 48+3=51/100, Occlumency 44+4=48/100, Wandless Magic 41+5=46/100, Black Blood Magic 15+10=25/100 >
< Social >
< +2 to Teaching, +2 to Seduction, +2 to Influence, +3 to Willpower, +3 to Speech, +5 to Persuasion, +6 to Notoriety, +8 to Negotiation >
< Teaching 50+2=52/100, Seduction 48+2=50/100, Influence 38+2=40/100, Willpower 42+3=45/100, Speech 40+3=43/100, Persuasion 35+5=40/100, Notoriety 37+6=43/100, Negotiation 19+8=27/100 >
< Social is now Tier 5 >
< Creation >
< +3 to Wards, +5 to Ritual Magic, +10 to Enchanting >
< Wards 41+3=44/100, Ritual Magic 44+5=49/100, Enchanting 33+10=43/100 >
< Creation is now Tier 4 >
I'd noticed a decrease in the pace of progress with my higher-level Disciplines. Something told me that improvement further than ~70 would be like grinding stones together. Appropriate but slow. Nothing motivated me as much as that idea. The slow progress just made each increase that much sweeter.
Before Fudge's fuckery, the Grind was how I spent my free time. It honestly wasn't all that different from my life before the System, learning, reading, and putting what I'd learned into practice. But especially after the Second Task and Fudge all but declaring war on me, the Grind served as a great way to vent frustration. Even under political siege, the Grind never stopped.
That frustration came from not being able to do anything about Fudge myself just yet. Narcissa promised my time would come but for now, the battle with Fudge was being fought in files and motions and meaningless bureaucratic political junk. Things that were very much not my area of expertise.
I learned something after getting my System. When possible, I was a man of action. Vindictive, satisfying action…
I'd rather kill a group of Death Eaters than see them arrested and inevitably released. I'd rather step up and do something than let Heather go through this whole tournament alone. I'd rather reveal myself and turn Pure-Blood society on its head for the year than sit back and take the charges leveled against me.
Funnily enough, this trend didn't seem to apply to my relationships. I was much more willing to go with the flow there. Not quite passive but not making the grand, unpredictable snap decisions of the rest of my life either.
Still, that meant I was left with nothing else to do but sit on my hands and Grind as Fudge and his toady did their best to make the tournament difficult for me and Heather. They were still insisting that my involvement was somehow unfair to the other champions… as if Heather wasn't at a three-year knowledge and skill disadvantage and hadn't been entered without her consent in what was definitely a plot to kill her and revive Voldemort.
Not to mention, Sirius had officially adopted Heather into House Black. And I still claimed her as my ward. Giving me, like, double authority to do what I've been doing and help her through the tournament.
According to Narcissa, Fudge didn't have a legal leg to stand on. Which just made things worse because he'd been crafty enough to make one up just for this purpose. The decrees that allowed him to declare himself Lord Triwizard were still in contentious debate within the Wizengamot but it didn't seem like their decision would matter any time soon. For now, Fudge had the power he needed to make things difficult.
Leading the Black Bloc like a general on the political battlefield, Narcissa had been Fudge's main opponent in the Wizengamot. She'd taken my instructions to heart and wrecked chaos through progress. Wolf's Bane assistance for Werewolves, job programs for Muggle-borns, and even a campaign of accountability for politically motivated bribes. It was that last one that we thought pushed Fudge into this corner he was lashing out from.
The only reason I hadn't already been removed from the tournament was that Fudge didn't have a good way to enforce his demands… yet… We were sure that was just about the only thing he was working on at the moment.
Hogwarts was still Dumbledore's domain. 'Lord Triwizard' couldn't change that. Using that power, the Headmaster was being as obstructive as possible to Fudge's attempts to separate me from Heather. Meaningless platitudes and conversations that just went in circles distracted Fudge from trying to place his people in Hogwarts. There was only so long even Dumbledore could keep that up though.
The other school Heads and their champions were helping as well, making their protests against this development very clear to their schools and the tournament organizers (Crouch, and now, Fudge). They threatened to go to the international press if this 'nonsense' continued.
Not only were they on my side after I averted the mess of the Second Task, but they also objected to what Fudge was doing on pure principle. The Triwizard Tournament was supposed to be a cooperative effort between three magical schools, after all. Having the Minister of a single country commandeer this iteration of it went directly against the spirit of that cooperation.
Narcissa went over the Ministry Decrees that gave Fudge his current power over the tournament. Percy was right. They were airtight and everything seemed to be in order.
The first gave the Minister special authority over any international competitions held on British soil. The next two elaborated on that authority and established the position of Lord Triwizard. The last allowed Fudge to appoint himself to that lordly position through what seemed to be an intentional loophole.
Technically, everything related to the Triwizard Tournament was now in Fudge's hands. From what chose the champions to the final prize, down to the Tasks themselves and even something as small as the champions' lodging.
Considering the original mess of the Second Task, that was a double-edged sword. We just had to make it through this initial push from Fudge to be able to turn that blade back against him.
In the meantime, we (Heather and I with the support of the whole coven) were simply enduring, going about our daily lives like nothing was wrong. It still lingered in my mind but I did my best to distract myself. Like by sitting in my room, reading a book from the Black Library on obscure, coven-based rituals while something much more interesting happened below my waist.
"Hmmmm~" I hummed, pleased. "Did either of you know there was a way for a coven to target multiple soul fragments with a ritual? It says here that it was used to banish and seal Kronos, a Wizard in Ancient Greece who fashioned himself as an 'Immortal Titan'. I suppose that's where the myth of him being chopped into pieces comes from."
Below my waist, Gabrielle paused with her lips around the head of my cock, raising an incredulous eyebrow up at me. Below her, Luna used her position cradled in Gabrielle's lap to blanket my balls with worshipful kisses.
I groaned, "I know, I know, I should be focusing on you two and the wonderful things you're currently doing. I guess I'm just… distracted."
Luna came off my ballsack with a pop, "Is this not enough to take your mind off the big bad chocolate Minister?"
I winced, "It's mostly the idea of having to leave Heather to her fate that's keeping my attention."
"Do not stress, Mon Ange~" Gabrielle purred, keeping her dainty fingers busy on my cock as she spoke. "Even if the fool does succeed, Heather will have the rest of the coven to lean on."
"And what if Fudge starts going after you all as well? I could easily see him escalating things to the coven and not caring a whit for the precedent it would set."
"If you can think that much, I am obviously not doing a good enough job down here. Luna darling? Would you care to move? It seems I must get serious~"
"Okay~!" Luna wiggled out of Gabrielle's lap and came around to sit on the armrest of my chair.
I barely had time to feel hesitation as Gabrielle smirked up at me. In a single smooth movement, she took me back into her mouth, swallowing around my cock and engulfing me to the base. Fire raced along my length. Rolling, swallowing throat muscles stoked the flames. Slick Nirvana did nothing to keep the fire from spiraling out of control.
"Oh, Me-…! Gabrielle!" I moaned.
Luna planted kiss after kiss on my neck, "If this isn't enough to distract you, we can always plan your next date with Daphne."
"Fuuuuuuucccckkkk~ Being lavished with cock worship while silver whispers in my ear push me toward my next conquest…? Fleur is right… I really am a salacious Devil."
"Our Devil~" Luna giggled. "And she'll never believe we're the ones dragging you down with us instead of the other way around."
"She would never even consider the idea that Gabrielle came up with this all on her own," I agreed with a groan.
Gabrielle's eyes crinkled at me, smiling as she lewdly slurped her way up my shaft.
"Say… Do you think Daphne would be interested in hunting for infamous Black-painted Gothica with me? I hear they live in the Muggle world and even look remarkably like Humans~!"
"No… Maybe… Yes…? She does seem to like Muggle culture but I think you're just describing Goths. Daphne herself might even qualify as a 'Black-painted Gothica'."
"Oh, how wonderful~!" Luna exclaimed. "I simply must tell her of her new classification the next time I see her!"
"Weren't-… Weren't we supposed to be planning a date for her?" I managed to force out between gritted teeth.
"Oh, I suppose we were… Well, you've spent the most time with her. What do you think she would like to do?"
"S-Something with politics? Though maybe that would be more appropriate for her mother. I imagine Daphne wouldn't want to go on a date to the Wizengamot and have to meet her dad… I'd say something Muggle but I doubt I could justify taking her out of the Castle like that."
"Why not just use the Room of Requirement? It really can be anything you imagine. I've spent a few nights skipping through a forest it conjures at 2 AM."
"It… does simplify quite a few problems," I considered. "I just feel like we're using it a bit much. It's such an astounding feat of magic and we use it for what? Meetings and training sessions? Surely, there's only so many times you can use the same room for something so menial."
"Is the Room really the same room if it's a different room every time you use the Room?" Luna cocked her head, acting as if she hadn't just said an almost meaningless sentence.
"Yes…" I deadpanned. "Also, I know what you're doing, Missy. Don't think you can get away with using 'room' that many times in a sentence around me. I know you have an expansive vocabulary. Use it."
Luna stuck her tongue out at me cutely, "Ne~ Room."
"Oh, just take her to a personal matinee and be done with it!" Gabrielle snapped, finally getting frustrated that Luna and I weren't giving her actions the attention she deserved.
"Matinee?" I asked with a chuckle and raised brow.
Gabrielle huffed, her cheeks slightly pink, "Shut up."
And since she still held my manly pride in her hand, I did. Thankfully, she didn't let her embarrassment dissuade her from continuing. With a long lick up my length, she dove right back in. My head fell back instantly as I was overtaken by a nimble tongue and plump, pillowy lips.
For the moment, Daphne fell to the back of my mind. Even Luna barely stayed present in my thoughts and that was only because she felt perfect against my side, cheering Gabrielle on. Gabrielle's sinful Veela lips all but stole my soul.
I suppose that decided what I was doing for the date. After this, I wouldn't be able to think of any new ideas if my life was on the line. Besides, a Muggle movie seemed like something Daphne would enjoy. Just had to figure out how to get the Room to provide the necessary components… Ah, later. Much later. After putting Gabrielle in her place and thanking her for taking my mind off of my worries…
IIIII
Daphne Greengrass elegantly slipped away from the watchful eyes of her housemates with practiced ease. She was used to the realities of living in Slytherin. One of those realities — perhaps the most important one — was to never give your housemates any extra information to work with. Good or bad, it never did to not be in control of your image and situation.
Daphne carefully maintained a certain persona in Hogwarts. Every Slytherin did. Even Draco Malfoy, though his persona consisted of much more bragging and posturing than most until recently.
Still, it could be useful to have a brash figure like Draco to take the blame at times. And he'd been getting better since he was inducted back into House Black and gotten a date to the Yule Ball. To think he returned the next morning with his clothes in tatters, a very pronounced limp, and enough scratches on his back that Snape thought he'd run afoul of a Werewolf…
Blaise Zabini was smooth, suave, and ruthless. Partially inherited from his infamous mother, his public persona would talk you into bed and slit your throat in the morning.
Tracey Davis was friendly, well-connected, and well-liked. She had to be to survive as a Half-Blood in Slytherin. She could get you anything you asked for. Anything. She also happened to be Daphne's best friend and Daphne knew there was more to Tracey than the simple, people-pleaser she showed Hogwarts.
Even Astoria, Daphne's little sister, had a persona all of her own. She was bubbly, energetic, and cute enough that people routinely underestimated her. Even those who knew better. Yet she was still the daughter of Ada Greengrass. Astoria could singlehandedly ruin every Slytherin in her year group and get away with it by flashing those devious puppy dog eyes.
Daphne's persona wasn't something she cultivated on purpose. Not at first, at least. Was it her fault she was apparently bad at expressing emotions and her face looked like it was carved from ice? No, but that image could be very useful.
She was cool, calm, collected, calculating, and many other descriptive C-words. To the rest of Hogwarts, at least. Inside, Daphne could admit that sometimes she didn't have a clue. But thanks to her public persona, she always seemed like she was in control of any situation.
From wrangling Astoria (no one could really control Astoria) to that time Pansy accused her of stealing her hair products in Second Year (Daphne didn't but she never admitted either way and now Draco owed her a small favor).
Her 'Ice Queen' persona did wonders keeping pushy older boys away and making her appear more collected than she thought she really was. But it did get annoying when only her few friends and family bothered to try looking past her expressive difficulties. If not for Tracy, Blaise, and Astoria, Daphne probably would have been much colder than she actually was.
Now, a potential fourth person (Fifth? Sixth? Mother and Father did count for something, after all) was making his way into that very limited circle that kept Daphne from freezing over completely.
Atlas White. Professor Atlas. Heir Black. Daphne's Betrothed. The second two titles should have been intimidating. But somehow, they weren't, only sending tingles to parts of Daphne she didn't want to mention.
Perhaps, like her mother, Daphne had a thing for power. It was an open secret that Ada ruled House Greengrass, only kept from the House's Wizengamot seat by the silly Lord title and her own cunning. It was so much more fun to let their opponents meet Cygnus and think House Greengrass was an easy mark…
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Atlas almost overeagerly handed her the keys to their engagement. The final decision was Daphne's to make and hers alone. Not her mother's. Not Atlas'. It was a certain amount of freedom and power over her fate that sent Daphne's teenage heart fluttering.
The courting process was going well so far. At least in Daphne's opinion, that is. They weren't open about the courting or their betrothal in general. Daphne figured it would cause more trouble and pressure than it was worth, especially when she lived in the same dorm as Pansy 'casually-calls-Atlas-Lord-Daddy' Parkinson.
Still, they found time to be alone together. Since the end of the Yule Break, Atlas made a habit of privately tutoring Daphne. Even if she was often second or third place in her year. And Daphne did her best to always appear out of Atlas' shadow when he least expected it or was otherwise alone. That's what girlfriends did, right?
"And I suppose the Gryffindors are next," Atlas mumbled to himself, going over a lesson plan.
"Good luck with them. Seamus Finnigan seems to have managed to brew moonshine beneath his bed and the Fourth Year Boys will all be very drunk this class. Yes, even Neville," Daphne said, having been lurking in the shadows of the room since Professor Flitwick left for his break.
"Merlin, Daphne!" Atlas exclaimed in surprise. "Shouldn't you be in Potions right now? Are you stalking me?"
Daphne's pause wasn't very convincing but she pressed on anyway, "… No. I'm simply spending time with you. We are courting, remember?"
"Is that how that works?"
"… Yes."
"Alright, well, feel free to make yourself known next time," Atlas smirked.
Strangely enough, Daphne felt her cheeks heat up, "… I'm sure that won't be necessary. I'm… going to class now. Don't look for me. I won't be here…"
She sunk back into Atlas' shadow. Not literally, but enough that he would think she left the room. It wasn't like Snape would actually punish her for skipping class. And watching Atlas was much more interesting than brewing the same potion she'd already mastered.
"What a strangely charming girl…" Atlas chuckled, seemingly to himself.
Daphne remembered wondering if her little disappearing act had fooled him. He didn't acknowledge or object to her presence after that. So it must have… right?
The following Gryffindor-Hufflepuff class was as interesting as Daphne promised it would be. The Gryffindor boys made the expected ruckus, from Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas breaking out into a pub song at one point to Neville Longbottom acting like a properly dashing Pure-Blood Lord instead of showing that side of himself in bits and pieces like he usually did.
Seamus and Dean were dismissed as they always were but Neville's behavior certainly attracted attention. It was rare to see the Hidden Lion of Fourth Year actually act the part. Inebriation seemed to wipe away his anxieties and if Daphne didn't know better, she would have said his behavior was positively Slytherin.
It certainly gained him appreciative looks from the Pure-Bloods in class, none more so than Susan Bones who practically hissed every time Neville smoothly sidestepped Lavender Brown's sudden advances. It was a bit of information Daphne already knew but still tucked away for later. With the states of House Longbottom and House Bones, that pairing would always need a third. And with the way Hannah Abbott was sticking by best friend's side and giving Longbottom the same doe eyes, that third may already be decided.
Daphne nodded to herself. That was a strong triangle in the making. Abbott was a second child. Her brother would be shouldering the Abbott name anyway. This way, House Longbottom and House Bones could both get heirs, hopefully without complication or contention.
By the end of the class, all three Gryffindor boys managed to earn themselves detention (Ronald Weasley still hadn't been heard from since he was removed from the Great Hall before Yule, though he was rarely missed). Neville's detention was given by Atlas with an almost proud smile and assurances that it would be one-on-one to continue something they'd started earlier. Seamus and Dean were passed off to Professor McGonagall, though, to actually be punished as the rightful causes of this class' chaos.
After all of the students (and Professor Flitwick once again) left the classroom, Atlas asked the seemingly empty room, "Still here, Daphne?"
If Daphne's heart skipped, it didn't show on her face, "… No. I just got back. I went to class and haven't been here watching the entire time."
"Of course," Atlas accepted her excuse way too easily. "Since you must be tired from all the hard work you put into potions, would you like to take a break with me?"
If Daphne pretended not to notice the smirk on Atlas' face, it wouldn't make the butterflies flutter in her stomach, "Sure. I am rather exhausted. Dealing with… Professor Snape and everything…"
Atlas nodded, "I know the feeling. How do you feel about doing something a bit Muggle to unwind?"
"In Hogwarts?"
"In Hogwarts."
"Okay."
"Great. I know just the place," Atlas stood, collecting all his things with a wave of his hand. "Would you care to take my arm so I may escort you?"
"And risk Pansy's reaction if we're seen together like that? I'm not a Gryffindor, Atlas."
Damn gentleman… Didn't he know how that offer made something flutter inside her?
"House Elf Express, it is then," Atlas decided, suddenly spinning to face her for the first time in their disjointed conversation. "Dobby? A lift, if you would?"
Daphne barely had time to show her surprise. One second, her eyes widened slightly. The next, she was taken by the hand and spun to fall against Atlas' chest. Her mind stuttered and with a pop, they were somewhere else.
Taking a breath full of Atlas' scent (another thing that stuttered her brain), Daphne took a step back. Almost immediately, her usual icy facade fell back over her face. She raised an eyebrow, channeling her mother to squash the heat in her cheeks.
"Do you often whisk away girls without their consent?" Daphne asked.
"Only when they've been stalking me all day," Atlas shot back with a grin.
"Wonderful," Daphne drawled, her voice monotone and practically dripping with sarcasm. "It seems that French Veela was right. My betrothed really is a rogue and a villain."
"Please don't take any inspiration from her. One Fleur in my life is more than enough," Atlas said quickly.
The corner of Daphne's lips twitched up, "I'll consider it. Where are we?"
"I probably shouldn't say. But there's an exceptional bit of magic in play here that will let us bring the joys of Muggle entertainment to Hogwarts."
Looking around, Daphne paused to examine the odd tapestry on the wall. She heard Atlas paced back and forth behind her and when she turned back to him, he was framed by a doorway that wasn't there a moment ago.
Daphne's only reaction to the door's appearance was a very understated hum, "Hmm."
"C'mon, let's see what the Room cooked up for us this time."
Hmm, indeed. That he didn't outright tell her where they were suggested Atlas wanted to keep this location secret for some reason, even from her. That he just called it 'the Room' lent more credence to that theory. This was a single hallway in a very large castle. It was unlikely Daphne would be able to find her way back here unassisted.
Perhaps this was the place he disappeared to have his — according to Hogwarts gossip — many sordid affairs? Not that Daphne believed the rumors. If anything, Atlas was rather open with his relationships. Not outright confirming them but not denying or hiding anything either. The secret of their betrothal was mostly kept by Daphne's efforts.
Atlas led the way into this mysterious 'Room' and Daphne followed. She was instantly surprised by the setting she stepped into. It was so… Muggle. As if it wasn't even connected to the rest of the Castle.
Closed curtains lined the walls. Strange, artistically decorative panels were placed above them, painted black with gold lines. Daphne knew she'd seen the style before. Art Deco? Something Muggle like that.
It looked nice though. Sleek and almost futuristic looking in a way nothing in the Wizarding world managed to match. And then there were the lights in this strange room. They seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Not in a magical way. Just due to very clever placement.
Set against the far wall of the room was something that looked almost like a large sheet of canvas. What purpose it could have here, Daphne could only guess. Before the canvas, two very comfortable-looking reclining chairs faced the same direction.
"… How did you manage to get a movie theater into Hogwarts?" Daphne asked, covering her surprise with a monotone voice.
"Magic~" Atlas teased, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement.
She fixed him with a flat look, "You're not clever…"
Atlas laughed, "I rather disagree. But I didn't lie. It is magic. Magic even I don't fully understand."
"Hmm…" Daphne tucked that bit of information away.
It seemed Atlas had only happened upon this place by chance as well. He didn't make it but was taking advantage of it anyway. The picture painted in her mind didn't make any sense yet but Daphne would keep putting the pieces together. Maybe if she found out enough, she could find this place without Atlas' help and continue her stalk-… courting even when he disappeared here.
"So I imagine you've brought us here for a movie?" Daphne changed the subject.
"Yeah," Atlas nodded. "It's a common activity for Muggle dates. I think… I'm pretty sure, at least. And I figured you would enjoy this more than helping me play at politics or something."
Daphne suddenly got a premonition of running into her father while on a 'political' date with Atlas and shivered, "… Yes. You figured correctly."
"And I have something special planned for what we watch. Never seen it before. In fact, I don't think it's even available to buy for the Muggle public yet. How it's even here is a mystery…
"But the poster looks promising and-… Hrk~!" He stopped himself to muffle a humored snort. "-Relatable… No idea how the projector will work but I figure the Room knows what it's doing. It's almost sentient at times…"
Another bit of information to add to her mental puzzle. Now to find out what part of the Castle was sentient… Or maybe just differently sentient? It was commonly accepted that Hogwarts herself was alive in some magical way. Was this place another sentience inside the already sentient Castle? Like Russian Nesting Dolls of magical intelligence?
Still, Daphne nodded as if she wasn't pondering the wonders of Hogwarts, "Okay. This sounds… acceptable."
Smiling, Atlas took her hand and guided her to the seats in the center of the room. Daphne managed to ignore her raised heartbeat long enough to sink into the chair. Even as her body was caressed by pillows, her face stayed expressionless, not letting any of her inner enjoyment show.
"Popcorn?" Atlas offered.
Daphne paused for a moment before springing into action, "… Mine."
The entire basket of popcorn was snatched out of Atlas' hands before he could blink. Daphne began to munch, her expression still not shifting at all. All Atlas could do was chuckle and wave his hands to start the projector and movie.
The Muggle lights dimmed. A ray of light beamed onto the canvas, bringing with it moving pictures. Credits rolled. The sound of caroling Muggles filled the theater.
The view panned across the Muggles before shifting upward to reveal a group of people on the roof of a mansion. A surprisingly Wizarding-looking cauldron bubbled and steamed. One of the people began tipping it upon the carolors below. Off to the side, a cold, noble-looking woman watched impassively. Her husband clapped his hands in joy by her side. And Daphne was left only able to think of her… family.
The title card appeared within the cauldron as it tipped, "The Addams Family."
IIIII
"Was that supposed to be a true story of my family or a fictional coincidence?" Daphne asked in a deadpan after the movie finished.
Atlas chuckled, "The similarities are rather striking, aren't they?"
"Uncanny," Daphne flatly replied.
"Anyone in your family, or who knows your family well, that might have gone off to Hollywood and sold your story?"
Daphne was already shaking her head when she paused, "No-… Uncle Fester?"
Atlas couldn't stop himself from barking with laughter, "Ha! Didn't even use a fake name! Oh my, I really hope that's true."
She didn't pout but the corner of Daphne's lip twitched, "This isn't funny, Atlas."
"So you didn't enjoy the movie?" He shot back.
Daphne scoffed, "Hardly. I just find it a bit concerning how similar Morticia and Gomez were to my parents… And how similar Pugsley was to Astoria…"
"And Wednesday?"
"What about her?"
"Her constant deadpan delivery doesn't ring any bells?"
"I'm nowhere near as creepy as her."
"Right… Says the girl who did her best to spend the entire day in my shadow."
Daphne sniffed, "That's different. We're courting, after all."
Atlas smothered more chuckles, "If you say so."
"Whatever…" Daphne rolled her eyes. "My housemates will undoubtedly be missing me at this point. I should really be going."
"I'll see you out," Atlas offered. "Don't worry about cleaning up. The Room will take care of it."
Standing and heeding his advice, Daphne followed Atlas out of the room. She noticed the door disappear once they left. Just something to make finding this place again a bit more difficult. They stopped in front of that strange tapestry, staring at each other until Daphne broke the silence.
"… I had a good time during this… 'outing'. You were quite agreeable. Shall we do it again?"
"I imagine we'll have to," Atlas chuckled. "As you've reminded me, we are courting."
"Yes…" Daphne said, quickly lapsing into awkward silence without knowing what else to say.
Thankfully, Atlas came to her rescue, saying leadingly, "You know… most dates like this seem to end with a kiss."
"Ah… Very well."
"Very well?"
"Yes…? Why aren't you kissing me yet?"
"That wasn't exactly clear approval, Daphne," Atlas murmured, stepping into her personal space as he did.
Daphne felt her breath hitch, "I… I thought I was clear enough…"
"Clear enough about what?" Atlas asked, lingering inches away from her lips.
"That… you should… kiss me…?" The words were stolen from Daphne by the almost teasing look in his eyes.
"If you insist~" Atlas purred, dipping his head to follow through with Daphne's 'request'.
Daphne could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Her blood pumped. Her excitement spiked, pooling somewhere in her lower abdomen. Tingles played out across her skin. It was like time seemed to speed up and slow down at the same time. She spent minutes staring at Atlas' lips drift closer to hers and mere instants before they finally touched.
Warm. Oh-so warm. Not quite hot. She wouldn't burn herself on his lips. Not yet, at least. Anything but cold. Atlas' lips smoldered slow and steady against hers. That warmth spread through Daphne's body, fluttering and flickering around every emotion she'd ever experienced. Her eyes lidded and drifted closed as she let herself be taken along for the ride.
Moments later — moments that felt like hours —, a sound interrupted them. Someone cleared their throat. Atlas slowly withdrew from the kiss. Daphne almost followed without realizing it, only stopped by a hand on her hip.
When Daphne's eyes opened again, she realized they were no longer alone. Professor Septima Vector watched from nearby with a distracted look on her face. Despite herself, Daphne felt her face freeze. Nothing in her expression changed…
"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Daphne dear, but I need to borrow Atlas from you. It's important," Septima said.
"What's up?" Atlas asked, instantly recognizing her unusual tone. She didn't even offer Daphne a spot in the coven! It wasn't like her at all and something must have been wrong.
Septima hesitated for only a moment, "Fudge has made his move. He's installed his Undersecretary at Hogwarts to act as the High Overseer of the Triwizard Tournament. And…"
"And?"
"And she seems to have decided the best way to get to you is through Heather at the moment…"
Atlas' expression gave Daphne's usual icy mien a run for its money. Stone-faced and serious, he took a step back from Daphne. Something intangible coiled tightly around him. The air sparked and his eyes glowed with inner light.
Daphne felt her breath stolen from her again for an entirely different reason. Suddenly, standing in that hallway felt like being at the bottom of the Black Lake. The weight of the world and magic pressed down on her. Daphne had never been so enraptured by anything in her life.
Atlas asked only a single question, his words bearing the same weight as the rest of his presence at the moment, "Where?"
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