Snakes, Cats, and Ladders

Snippets of conversation drifted around her, but she paid no attention to them. A piece of cutlery was dropped. The clanging sound of metal on stone attracted a few searching looks but otherwise went unacknowledged. She flicked her eyes down the Slytherin table. Through the blonde curtain of hair that obscured her vision, Daphne's eyes landed on the lone figure that had just risen.

It was like he knew whenever he was being watched, for his bright eyes immediately scanned the Great Hall. She averted her vision quickly, hoping that her surreptitious glance had gone unnoticed.

Daphne envied him.

The school knew little about Harry Potter. Any gossip was just that — gossip. Asides from the fall of the Dark Lord, they were clueless. She'd often heard the boys in her house openly disparaging his reclusiveness, as well as her share of giggling girls. It sickened Daphne somewhat, even if he did have a decent frame. His aloof nature also greatly annoyed her. She could probably count on one hand the times she had heard him speak outside of class, let alone had seen him. He kept to himself and had avoided being drawn into any inter-house drama for the past four years. She doubted this one would be any different.

Meanwhile, she had a friend. A sister who wasn't close to her. A father who was keen to be rid of her once she was of age, and a mother who was little more than an onlooker in her household. Daphne had also been forbidden from developing any sort of friendliness with their house elves — her father would likely go ballistic at the mere thought of his daughter befriending a 'creature' such as them.

Sure, he'd lost his parents, but seemed to be doing alright for himself.

Daphne stared into the distorted reflection of herself in the golden goblet beside her plate, wondering just where things had gone wrong. She didn't have much of an appetite anyway.

It hadn't been so bad until her father found out that her mother had become barren. That he'd been left without a male heir. She could barely remember, for it was when she'd just turned four or five. Her sister would've been barely one or two years old. The stab of pity Daphne felt for Astoria faded as quickly as it'd come.

Lord Greengrass had bestowed the status of primary heiress upon her sister. The entire thing had been done behind her back, and her younger sister had ceased to speak to her once all was done. Daphne could only suspect that her father had turned Astoria against her. She'd cried for days. Her mother had done nothing, of course. Not that she could, with the power her father had.

Even worse, it'd been done mere months before her younger sister would leave for her first year of Hogwarts. Once word got out amongst the pureblood circles, Daphne'd lost all of her friends except for Tracey Davis. Her carefully-constructed network since childhood fell apart in mere days. She'd also lost whatever remained of her personal attachment to her family. Whilst she couldn't find it in her to blame Astoria wholly, it still stung.

As students rose around her, the noise level rising in the Great Hall, she remained seated, her thoughts returning to Potter. He was seemingly an unashamed outlier from the rest of her house, and her jealousy could only simmer at how easily he navigated Hogwarts. His cool indifference to any slights towards him infuriated her. He'd somehow escaped the brutal structure of her house, and the rest of Slytherin could apparently never muster the will to put him back in his place.

Why couldn't she do the same?

Prefects began directing the newly-sorted first-years towards their common room with the rest of the house, who were scarcely seen alone. Except for their lone wolf, of course.

She sighed, rising with the rest of her housemates. Daphne knew her animosity towards him was largely unfounded. She couldn't help but be envious. A flash of pink caught her eye, and Daphne found herself suppressing another laugh at the attire of their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

The woman looked more as if she'd be teaching them how to knit. However, if her pink, woollen cardigan was anything to go by, they wouldn't be very successful. She hoped the woman didn't have a hand in creating the dreadful garment herself. Perhaps they'd learn how to defend themselves against a poor fashion sense.

Overall, Daphne had very low expectations for the year. Chances were she'd need to find a way to scrape by with her own study.

Relief seeped through her as she spotted Tracey in front of her. Though the girl was the embodiment of a Slytherin, just as she used to be, Daphne knew she held a soft spot for her. Even if they couldn't openly talk with so many others nearby, her presence was a mild comfort for Daphne.

The tall corridors of Hogwarts had always unnerved her. She shuffled through them with the rest of the Slytherins down towards the castle's dungeons, past portraits that mostly sneered at them or looked upon them with indifference. They weren't too far off how Potter treated the rest of her house.

Whilst she'd been excited to be sorted into Slytherin in her first year, the novelty of the house had quickly faded. Gone were the thoughts of ambition, greatness and success, replaced with snobbery and social hierarchies. It'd only further soured for her when her sister arrived. Daphne took a last glance behind her at a group of Hufflepuff girls, chatting merrily as they made their way through the castle. They seemed so content. A far departure from the 'friendships' of her own house.

Nothing went for free in Slytherin.

There's always a price to pay, Daphne thought as she descended the staircase that would carry them to the Slytherin common room.

A prefect up ahead spoke the password, the sound of stone grinding indicating the opening of the entrance. She could barely make out the people around her in the dim lighting that was so typical of the Hogwarts dungeons. It was a mystery to her why it wasn't brighter.

Then again, she did suppose that her head of house resembled a bat rather often.

Professor Snape had little involvement with the inner ongoings of her house. It was largely run by the social hierarchy that existed within, and he only ever interfered if incidents leaked out to the rest of the school. It was a notoriously ruthless system, but Daphne had always doubted that others outside of Slytherin knew of it. Maybe not even the professors of the school.

She was among the last to enter the eerie common room. Glitters of pale—green light danced across the aged stone walls from the window at the furthest end of the common room, through which one could see into the Black Lake, and a high-domed ceiling, which would seem out of place to anyone seeing it for the first time, served to reduce the otherwise claustrophobic feeling of the room. Numerous still paintings adorned the walls. Couches, tables and chairs were scattered throughout, many of which were near the large, crackling fireplace on the left side of the room.

Daphne supposed it was somewhat cosy when you were used to it.

The common room emptied as quickly as it had been filled, with students ascending the staircases to their dormitories.

Making to follow them, she put a foot on the first step, before she was violently wrenched back. The air left her lungs as her back made contact with the wall, leaving her gasping as she slid down it.

Daphne looked up and made eye contact with Theodore Nott, her classmate. With him were a few other Slytherin fifth years, including Malfoy. To her dismay, she spotted her sister at the back. Those blue eyes, so similar to her own, held a hint of sympathy but remained largely impassive.

Nott sneered down at her, and any bravado she'd had quickly faded as she saw his wand pointed at her.

"So, Greengrass," he spoke in a mocking tone, "what's this I hear about trying to talk your sister out of a business partnership with my family? It's not like it's a marriage contract, and you're not even an heiress anymore."

It was true.

Her father had been wanting to establish a business deal through Astoria with the Nott family, though the boy had always treated her horribly. His gloating never failed to get on her nerves either. Daphne was aware that a business relationship with the family would only get the Greengrasses deeper into the clutches of the Malfoys, who she suspected eventually sought a contract with her younger sister. She knew what lay ahead of them if all went to plan for the Malfoys and their allies — one-sided benefits and obligations, and possibly the downfall of her line. Not to mention the rumours that the Dark Lord had returned. It was beyond Daphne how her father couldn't see through the web of lies. After all, it would be near impossible to escape should they be caught in it.

Daphne knew she should've just held her tongue. Minded her own business, even. She'd already lost all pride in her family name. But she couldn't watch her younger sister be ensnared in a politically-charged marriage at her age, regardless of any bitterness she felt towards her. She'd forever hold on to that last speck of hope that her sister would return to how she was pre-Hogwarts. She also didn't want to see her family side with former Death Eaters, regardless of their apparent innocence.

"Um… I just felt it could be negotiated better," she said, averting her eyes as she grasped at straws.

Terror bubbled up within her as the silence stretched out, only to be broken by multiple thumps and exclamations. She looked up and was shocked at what she saw.

Half the group had been thrown across the common room, and now lay before the floor-to-ceiling window opening the room to the Black Lake. Fortunately, her sister had been spared, though she had turned white.

Turning her head, she was even more surprised to see Harry Potter standing just beside her. It was like he'd appeared out of thin air. His wand was raised, and it seemed he'd be the one to throw his classmates around like rag dolls. The green eyes she'd seen barely twenty minutes ago were now alight with fury, yet the rest of his expression gave little away.

Malfoy, who'd unfortunately also been spared the cross-common room trip due to his position near Astoria, spoke up in an unconvincingly confident voice.

"You have no place here," Malfoy said, doing his best to look down his nose at someone taller than him.

"Neither do you," Potter spoke lowly, wand now pointing at the boy. "I suggest you keep interactions with the rest of your house purely verbal and refrain from bullying others. You will not put your hands on them."

She would certainly not want to be staring down the end of his wand, with him having won the Triwizard Tournament just months ago. It'd barely even been close, though rumours had continued to circulate around the events of the final task.

With a contemptuous glance, Malfoy spun on his feet and headed up the staircase, ignoring the state of his housemates. They were still scattered before the window, and Daphne was sure at least one or two of them had hit it. Not that she had any sympathy for the brutes.

It was times like these that she again wondered how her life had ended up like this. Why she'd been placed in Slytherin, a house so departed from the traits that saw one placed within it by the Sorting Hat, was a mystery to her.

Potter turned to her, ignoring her sister as she, too, ascended the staircase without a glance her way. He offered her a hand.

After a brief moment of thought, she took it, wincing as she stood.

His wand was pointed at her, and Daphne froze when she saw it.

"Relax," he muttered. "Turn around."

She obeyed, bracing herself, and shivered as she felt his wand lightly trace down between her shoulder blades. A moment later the pain had cleared.

Turning back, she met his eyes.

"Thanks," she managed.

He just gave her a nod, gesturing for her to go up the stairs towards the girl's dorms. Forcing her feet to move, she did so with a last glance at him.

He'd already turned away, walking towards where Nott and the others still lay.

Daphne found herself speechless as she entered her room. She was glad the Slytherins were given private rooms, rather than communal dorms, because she was in no state to talk to anyone else.

Letting herself drop onto her bed, she slowly let the fear drain out of her. Hopefully, they wouldn't want retribution, and if they did, it wasn't from her. They could have a go at Potter if they wished to, as long as they left her alone. She wasn't sure how much longer she could do this. Hopefully, word wouldn't get back to her father.

The following day, Daphne kept her eyes peeled. It felt like there was nowhere she could lose focus on her surroundings, fearing another confrontation or an owl with a letter that would make her heart sink. To make things worse, Tracey was in the hospital wing since the early morning with a severe cold that went beyond Pepper-Up potions. She'd interrogated Daphne at length over the incident when she had visited, and though Daphne had been reluctant, she recounted it to her, if only for some sympathy.

They were fairly close, but as with most Slytherins, they mainly kept to themselves. Not like her, though. Daphne knew she was one of the biggest outcasts in Slytherin at the very least.

She vowed to visit Tracey again soon to give her some notes. Whilst only having one friend would be grim for most, Daphne was continually grateful for Tracey. It made her wonder just who Potter was friends with. He drifted around like a ghost, mostly invisible but popping up whenever the situation warranted it.

Part of her was glad to not see Potter anywhere. She could stand up for herself. Her momentary weakness was something not to be repeated, and she knew her punishment would be doubly as bad if her father found out. Pushing through the difficulty would only make her stronger, and she would make sure to repair her reputation post-Hogwarts. It would make her father regret ever turning her sister against her.

Daphne took a seat in the library, right in the corner, so that she could monitor her surroundings whilst doing her homework. Allowing herself to sink into the plush chair, she drew her stocking-clad legs in and propped up a book on them, adjusting the fabric of her skirt as she did so.

The hours passed easily as Daphne was finally able to let her guard down a little. Just as she'd reached the end of her assigned reading, a flash of black caught her eye.

She grabbed her wand from where it lay beside her and held it out shakily. Through the bookshelves, she saw a small black form bounding gracefully along the ground, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

The animal was a fairly common sighting throughout the castle for Daphne, as she often saw the small cat trotting through the darkened parts of corridors or lurking in obscure places. It was a cute little thing, with bright green eyes and sleek black fur. She'd asked others about it, but not many people were aware of its apparent adventures, nor did they know who the cat belonged to.

Daphne always itched to pet it, never having had a pet of her own. Unfortunately, it always stayed out of reach. She'd nearly had a heart attack when she saw it leaping across the moving staircases on the upper floors of Hogwarts. It astounded her that such a small cat could jump so far. One would think a small cat would grow eventually, but Daphne had never noticed an increase in its size since she'd first seen it in her third year.

The runt of the litter, perhaps, she thought.

Packing her things up, she resolved to see Tracey again before heading down to dinner. Mealtimes were never a pleasant affair for her. It was a bizarre thing to have so many people around you, yet to feel so alone. She just had to push through it, just like her classes, even if they were dreary.

Daphne found herself wishing more and more that there was some alternative. She was sure that life outside Hogwarts had to be different. Though she'd spent her life in the magical world, she grew less and less fond of it every year. Her father would certainly punish her if he found out.

She could only hope that she one day had the opportunity to find out.