Dark Pre-Match Mind Games pt 2

“Aww!” Fawley cooed when you and Mateo entered the castle together, “Look, Jessica! You made a new friend!”

“‘Friend’ might be a bit presumptuous,” Mateo said, “But it looks like I finally found a Slytherin who doesn’t make my skin crawl.”

Beside Fawley, Draco was staring straight ahead with a pink face and glassy eyes. He failed to react to Mateo’s Slytherin slight, which proved that the broom closet queen had done a number on him. It seemed you weren’t the only one with special snogging skills. You spotted the closet they used, down the hall on the side. To Fawley’s credit, Malfoy’s hair and Quidditch robes were still immaculate, so the Ravenclaw clearly knew how to snog someone without leaving them looking ruffled. OR how to clean up her mess after she was done.

You glanced up at the Ravenclaw Chaser beside you, then smirked at the Ravenclaw Keeper across from you, “She likes me. She just doesn’t want to admit it.”

Mateo hooked her arm around you and gave you a jostling shove, “How ‘bout I call you what you are: an admirer.”

“Admiration won’t stop me from wiping the pitch with you later,” you insisted. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure the two of you have plenty to talk about, and I need to ensure that Draco’s properly fed before his father arrives.” You took Draco by the elbow and led him away from the two Ravenclaws, “See you later for your public spanking, Jessica!”

Fawley quickly caught on, “Oh, so she gets to be familiar while I’m still formal.”

“She earned it on merit!” You closed your eyes, pictured a pair of beautiful breasts, then led Draco around a bend, and flattened yourself against a wall to eavesdrop on the aftermath of your Ravenclaw encounter.

“Did you have fun with your new friend?” Fawley was quick to ask.

“That kid wasn’t what I expected,” Mateo confessed.

“Mmm… so it seems this time you judged someone before getting to know them.”

“Don’t rub it in,” Mateo warned her friend, “I mean, if egos were proportionate to size, that kid would be bigger than Hagrid. But I was able to dig deep enough to find a shred of humility and some genuine admiration.”

“I heard that deep down he’s secretly a sweetheart,” Fawley informed her.

“I may have felt a little of that myself.” Her tone shifted, “He’s still a pervert though.”

Fawley giggled, “You’ll be hard pressed to find a teenage boy who isn’t.”

That was enough. You tugged Draco along and headed across the castle to the Great Hall for breakfast. Fawley heard you were secretly a sweetheart. That seemingly innocent statement reminded you there was a spy in the Slytherin dorms that you needed to identify if you didn’t want your personal business shared with members of a rival house.

You glanced at the first year beside you. He’d been quick to spout off embarrassing information about you to Fawley, but that was done in front of you in an effort to make himself look good for the curvy sixth year. He hadn’t given much of a reaction to you claiming Mateo’s bra during the bet. If he knew about your collection - which was the secret information that had been passed on to Fawley - he definitely would’ve had something snarky to say about it.

That ruled out Draco as the rat, and brought you back to the eight witches who contributed to your knicker collection. Granger’s only friends were Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom. When Potter and Weasley jumped you over the holidays they revealed that Hermione hadn’t told them about giving you her knickers, so you couldn’t imagine her telling a complete stranger who was over four years older and in a different house. No, the rat had to be a Slytherin girl, which meant you were left with seven suspects.

You decided to shelve the search for the Slytherin spy until breakfast, and turned your focus to Draco.

“So, how’d it go with Fawley?” you prompted, “Do you understand now why I wouldn’t simply tell you what the club was? It’s much more special to be initiated by a witch and I didn’t want to cheapen the moment by spoiling it.” He nodded silently, and you decided to change tactics to get a proper rise out of him, “I know we agreed to never talk about that night… but you’re technically the first person I stepped into a Hogwarts broom closet with.”

He stopped and glared.

“What? You and I both know nothing happened,” you stopped walking to point out, “But if something had… then we would’ve probably set some kind of record for unknowingly joining the club as first years two weeks into our first term. Maybe Miss President would’ve sought us out to congratulate us on our new membership and milestone?”

“Don’t ever bring that up again!” he scolded you.

“Understood,” you agreed. Mission accomplished, you got him talking again. “Speaking of things I’m not supposed to talk about… am I to assume that your foray into the closet with the enchanting Miss Fawley is something we shouldn’t mention to your father?”

“Yes,” he answered, “She has a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. She doesn’t ask anyone who they’ve been in a closet with and she doesn’t tell anyone who she’s been in with.” That probably meant Miss President had been in a lot of closets with a lot of people. “She expects the same courtesy in return. It’s a test. She cuts ties with anyone who can’t keep it a secret.” His stare intensified with an implied order of secrecy.

“Well, you don’t need to worry about me,” you assured him, “I can keep a secret. If you’ll recall, she was the one who brought up the club. Not me. And also, her inducting you was my idea.”

“What?”

“Remember? When she brought up the club, I suggested three options for you to learn about it. Ask Parkinson, step into a closet with Yaxley, or… ask Madam President to induct you. You didn’t ask her, but less than ten minutes later, she decided to induct you herself. Did you think that was a coincidence?”

“You…!?”

“I also got you that hug, didn’t I?” you reminded him, “You agreeing to that easy concession won you some points and put her in an agreeable mood.” You didn’t have the heart to point out that a major reason behind Fawley’s induction of the young Malfoy was to give her teammate some privacy.

You continued your trek toward the Great Hall and Draco chased after you, “You planned that!?”

“Not all of it,” you admitted, “It was my first time meeting her. And no one can plan for everything no matter how intuitive they are. But as a Keeper, I specialise in being able to read people. Anticipating someone’s attitude, intent, and target is essential for my position. I saw you were taken with Fawley, and since you were out there helping me, I did some prodding to help you. That same intuition is how I avoided taking a bath when I was having a go at Mateo. I got a read on her. Overt insults would be crossing a line, but she was fine with competitive taunting.”

“Don’t tell father anything about her either,” Draco warned you, “He wouldn’t approve.”

You weren’t surprised. “But you understand what I was doing, right? For her to set that personal best and run over three miles in under seventeen minutes means she pushed herself harder than she ever has before. I don’t care what kind of crazy conditioning or stamina she has, there’s no way she’ll be back to full energy in time for the start of the match in a little over two hours. Flint’s plan is to draw the match out and run up our score… so if she’s worn out going into it that works to our advantage.”

“On top of that,” you continued, “while you and Fawley were gone, I got her to agree to bet double for the match. I lost a private challenge, but that was so I could get her to agree to a bigger bet on something much more significant. Now I’m in her head. The girl’s strong and fast. Aside from Skye Parkin on her Nimbus Two Thousand, Jessica Mateo on her Comet Three-Sixty is Ravenclaw’s greatest offensive weapon. And with Flint attacking her body, and me attacking her mind, we’ll have a much greater chance at beating her today. She may have set a personal record for her run, but at the end of the day, you won’t see it mentioned in the Hogwarts record books. What will stand the test of time is the final score in today’s Quidditch match.”

The doors to the Great Hall were soon looming ahead of you at the end of the hallway.

“Oh,” you added, “Before we go in… if you decide to partake in some ‘club activities’... Parkinson would probably be willing to help you find a few. I just request that you be discreet about it and don’t tell Daphne.”

“‘Don’t tell Daphne’ what?”

You both jumped and turned around to face the voice that came from behind you, and saw Daphne and Tracey descending from the Grand Staircase. Greengrass was holding the white incentive box by the green ribbon.

“Erm… what I was about to say was… ‘don’t tell Daphne’... because I want to save it as a special Valentine’s Day surprise.”

As they came down the stairs, you saw a familiar gleam in Greengrass’ icy blue eyes. The kind that said ‘Tell me what I want to know, or you’ll never know another moment’s peace!’

Either Malfoy noticed the look or he was genuinely trying to help, because he chimed in, “This isn’t something you want to stick your nose in and spoil for yourself, Greengrass. I learned the secret earlier… and the magic doesn’t come from knowing about it… but who you learn it from. Let it happen at the right time, in the right place, with the right person… otherwise, you’ll be robbing yourself of a pleasant surprise.”

“I’ll take that under advisement, Malfoy,” Daphne decided. But while her momentary curiosity from overhearing your comment had been sated, the gleam in her eyes remained. You were still in hot water.

“Funny thing is,” Tracey chimed in, “That bit about the Valentine’s Day surprise wasn’t the most interesting thing we observed this morning.”

Observed. Your eyes went to the Omnioculars hanging around Daphne’s neck.

Oh bugger. “I handed a pair of Omnis to a known stalker. Of course, she’d want to test them out! And she knew exactly where we’d be because she was the one who suggested that we go there!”

You sighed, “Let me guess… you two were watching the whole time.”

The two nods received a squawk of surprise from Malfoy. “What?!”

“But while my Omnioculars allowed you to see what was happening… that didn’t mean you could hear what we were discussing from a few stories up, so now you want context to understand what you saw.”

Another pair of nods. It was the telescope in the Astronomy tower all over again.

“And… if I don’t tell you… you meddling kids will spend the rest of the morning harassing me about it.”

A nod from Daphne and a grin from Velma, “You’re learning!”

You sighed again and turned to Draco, “It seems I have to deal with this now. Save me a seat, and do what you can to ensure that the food and tea in our area haven’t been tainted or tampered with.”

“Good luck,” Draco said, he eyed the girls warily as they approached and quickly sought refuge in the Great Hall.

You glanced off to the side down the hallway and spotted a door in the wall, “There’s a broom closet down that way. We can avoid having this discussion out in the open.” You led the way down the hall, pulled the closet door open, and held it for the two witches. But Daphne was having none of that, she shoved you inside - most likely so you couldn’t run away - and then Tracey followed you both in and shut the door behind her.

“Here!” Daphne thrust the Omnioculars against your chest. “You said to save anything interesting. See if those three scenes qualify.”

You raised the Omnis and watched the first recorded scene. The viewer (most likely Daphne) was watching from a castle window. You vaguely remembered seeing the four narrow, similarly-shaped castle windows spanning the front wall of the fourth floor, overlooking the front courtyard.

Daphne was watching from the window on the far right. You were standing in front of Jessica Mateo, blocking her from her morning run, and Draco Malfoy was off behind you against the far left wall. The sixth year was six inches taller than you, and Daphne’s right-oriented window of choice allowed her to see around the tall girl with her back to the castle and focus on you as you unknowingly faced them. You watched with embarrassment as your recorded self’s face turned pink when Jessica pulled down her zipper. Daphne was unable to see what you saw from so far behind the Ravenclaw Chaser, but your gobsmacked expression was captured perfectly.

“You have ABS!” Your earlier exclamation echoed in your mind.

“Heh! Jealous? If you stare any harder, your eyes might pop out of your skull.” There was no sound in the recording, but the recent conversation ran back in your mind.

“I don’t normally get this close to an AMAZON!”

Daphne kept her focus on you as Jessica pointed her wand at her chest and her bra came flying out from her unzipped outfit and landed in her hand. Your eyes dipped down to the spandex sports bra as it reverted back to normal, but then your recorded self’s face went RED as you stared at Mateo’s unveiled cleavage.

“Lookit him leering! If I took the top down, I bet your head would explode!”

The one-minute scene ended with you folding your arms behind your back and tilting your chin up as you ‘accepted’ her challenge. “Try it! Then Slytherin will be down two Keepers! I dare you!”

You lowered the Omnioculars and found both first year girls eying you intensely. It was another empty four-foot-wide broom closet, so it wasn’t like they were far away. You noted that they were making sure to stand between you and the door. “Alright… in my defense… that bra she gave me was made of a muggle material called ‘spandex’, which is known for its elasticity.” That part was mostly for Daphne’s benefit. “Fawley told me it’s Mateo’s favorite compression bra. Normally, she’s a size 34C, but with that bra on, they’re squished down to a 34B to hold her in place and make running easier. When Jess–Mateo took her bra off, they GREW an inch right in front of me! I’d like to see you two keep your composure under those circumstances!”

Daphne folded her arms across her - significantly smaller - chest, “We already know you’re a pervert who likes to look when an opportunity presents itself. And she was definitely presenting.”

“I’m more concerned with why she was presenting,” Tracey stated, “Did you do your ‘eye thing’ to make her unzip and take her bra off? I didn’t see anything, but I thought maybe I was too far away, or at a bad angle, or just missed when you did it.”

”Honestly, no,” you answered. “She did that on her own. I offered her something she really wanted. Like how you two are willing to trade your knickers for answers. Only this wasn’t a trade, per say, but rather what she was putting up as an ante for her side of our wager. We were betting on how fast she could complete her 5k run. My original objective was to make her run as fast as she could to wear her out a bit going into the match. I succeeded at that part. I didn’t know how big she truly was when I requested she bet her bra, but the objective there was to sabotage her and slow her down.”

“That backfired,” Tracey noted.

“Yeah! No kidding!” you agreed, “it just motivated her to run faster! She shattered my twenty-minute estimate! Fawley said Mateo normally runs a 5k in around eighteen minutes! That madwoman not only overcame a handicap, but set a new personal best!”

“And what, exactly, did you offer her to make her run so fast?” Daphne inquired/demanded.

You blinked in surprise, “You don’t know?”

Daphne huffed, “Watch the next scene.”

You raised the Omnioculars and turned the triangle dial to display the next recorded scene. Daphne had moved to one of the two central windows - the left one, and you assumed that meant Tracey was watching from the right one. You saw yourself sitting crossed-legged on the left courtyard wall, wielding Draco’s Omnioculars with one hand, while displaying the time on your wand with the other. 8:15:55

Your breath caught in your throat. Daphne’s recording went into slow motion when Mateo’s boob leapt out of her unzipped top as she made the leap from the lake shore onto the incline. Your recorded self’s eyes practically bugged out and Daphne watched you watch Jessica’s exposed breast… then ZOOMED IN past you for a better - CLOSE UP - view of the Ravenclaw Chaser’s wardrobe malfunction. There it was: Jessica Mateo’s milk chocolate, C-Cup breast with the galleon-sized areola, capped with a stiff dark nipple jiggling in all its slow motion glory.

Draco had likely discovered by now that you HADN’T saved this part on his Omnioculars. He would have to content himself with his memory of Jessica’s breast. But Daphne DID. She saved the entire minute-long scene of the sixth year’s jiggling tit as she sprinted up the incline and finished the race! It ended with Fawley calling out the time, Mateo punching the air, and ‘silently’ crowing in victory before finally fixing her top.

“Now watch the last one,” Daphne ordered with an extra icy glare.

You turned the dial. Daphne had relocated to the far left window - the one closest to the wall. The recording started with Fawley leading Malfoy below them into the castle, then Greengrass aimed the Omnioculars over the wall as you walked toward the carriage storehouse door… AND DISAPPEARED FROM VIEW! Jessica followed you over… and ALSO DISAPPEARED! The recording started SHAKING to show Daphne’s obvious irritation. The courtyard wall was high enough above the carriage storehouse door that she COULDN’T SEE YOU from the narrow fourth story windows!

You and Jessica Mateo were both hidden from view the entire time!

Even in the dim light of the broom closet, you could plainly see the inquisitive gleam in Daphne’s eyes. She held up the incentive box using the green ribbon wrapped around it, “Since our knickers are already in the box… and since getting you to spill secrets is like pulling teeth… consider that second scene payment. If you want to keep it, then I expect you to tell us what happened behind that wall.”

“Fawley surprised me by being the one to suggest that we keep the bet a secret,” you explained, “She even gave Draco that hug so he would agree to keep it between the four of us. And then she went as far as to lead him into the castle so he wouldn’t witness what happened next.”

“But we–” Greengrass started to protest.

You interrupted her, “Stop. I know. You were watching the whole time, so it was never a secret to begin with. Telling you what happened would be going against the letter of the secrecy agreement… but the spirit of that agreement - and real reason why Fawley wanted to keep it under wraps - was because she doesn’t want Gemma to find out. I know from personal experience how obvious and intrusive your investigations get when someone has the audacity to withhold information from you… so I’d still be honoring the spirit of the secrecy agreement and saving us all loads of time and trouble by telling you myself.”

The two determined witches spent months stalking you until it finally culminated with a Scooby-Doo chase through the Grand Staircase, and an interrogation in a magical bunker. They both knew plenty of secrets that they hadn’t shared.

“You know a number of important secrets,” you recounted, “If we’re really going to be Daphne, Fred, and Velma… then I’m going to need to learn to trust you.” You took a deep breath and revealed the rival Ravenclaw’s reward, “She wanted to spank me.”

They both blinked in surprise and clearly weren’t expecting those terms. Daphne found her voice first, “Pardon?”

You met her eyes, “The idea of spanking a bratty pureblood greatly appealed to her. I offered her a chance to do that on my terms. I said she could have four swats if she beat my twenty-minute estimate, and - to encourage her to run harder and exhaust herself - I said she could have an extra swat for every additional minute beyond that.”

“All that extra effort for three extra swats?” Tracey questioned.

“It was worth it to her,” you responded, “With the benefit of hindsight, I can better understand her thought process. Since her average time was eighteen minutes, she saw the bet as a sure thing; a foregone conclusion. When I shook her hand and made the bet official - in her eyes - I agreed to take a spanking from her. I think willingly putting my faux-Irish arse on the line is what changed her tune on me and why she was willing to hand over her favorite bra… she knew she would get it back. Malfoy claimed we went from fighting to flirting when she unzipped. And to an observer who couldn’t hear what was happening, it probably looked that way. But the change started when I shook her hand and she realised I was a rare Slytherin she could have some fun with.”

“It was such a dramatic change,” Tracey admitted, “that’s why I assumed you zapped her. We were originally watching from the center windows but then we both moved to the right one where it was easier to see around her because I thought we missed it. It was like her personality completely changed.”

“My Serpent’s Gaze compulsion doesn’t do that,“ you insisted, “It’s an implanted thought. As you can see from the fact that Daphne isn’t currently indulging her urge to snog me inside one of Hogwarts’ many - notably empty - broom closets… the implanted thought becomes easier to resist when you’re aware it’s not your own. Daphne quipped about me making Parkinson run starkers through the Great Hall… but I don’t think I could make her do something so extreme. She’s accepted the compulsion to trade me her knickers for favors, but that’s because she knows the rest of you girls are trading me your knickers too. She gets something she wants, and she’s not the only one doing it, so she’s embraced the implanted thought. “

“However,“ you continued, "If I planted the urge to streak through Great Hall, her rational mind would rebel against it, and reject the implanted thought. She carries the reputation of the Sacred Parkinson family with her and she knows the dire consequences of those actions. Running starkers through the Great Hall would not only embarrass her, but also her family. She’d do everything she could to resist, like Daphne did when I told her not to tell you about the Quirrell thing. Remember, just because she has an urge doesn’t mean she has to indulge it. Maybe she’d think about it, imagine what it might be like, and fantasise about it… but she would actively resist going through with it.”

Daphne looked over at her best friend and decided to help her test your new information, “Tracey… drop your skirt and prove him wrong.”

Tracey’s hands went to the waistband of her skirt and she made to grab it… but she hesitated. The blonde half-blood closed her eyes and her face screwed up as she recognised your implanted thought that she was okay exposing herself if it was for Daphne’s benefit as one that wasn’t her own.

“No.” Davis refused. “I don’t want to. Not in front of him.” She dropped her hands, “He’s right. It’s easier to resist when you know it’s there and don’t want to do it.”

“There you have it,” you concluded, “And the longer an implanted thought exists in someone’s head… the greater the chance they have to recognise it’s not theirs. That’s why I typically use short term things for an immediate situation that will dissipate when it’s over, rather than an ongoing command.”

Greengrass got curious again, “Then did you use your gaze to get out of your spanking?”

“No,” you answered, “Jessica rightfully earned it and I was genuinely impressed by her Amazon spirit… her tit popped out of her top… but she kept running! I wasn’t going to rob her of the prize she pushed herself so hard for. If you’re still wondering why it motivated her so strongly.” You glanced over at Tracey, “You think you have it bad being a half-blood in Slytherin? The worst you deal with from our year is Malfoy not acknowledging you and Parkinson acting superior even though your marks are consistently better than hers. But I remember how Flint went after you the first night following Professor Snape’s scary speech. Imagine having him in our year. And imagine also being black, and being the half-blood daughter of a muggle woman and a muggleborn wizard, and then also being a prominent member of a rival house’s sports team in a game that encourages violence. Then there’s me, mouthing off to her as the poster child of Slytherin blood purity. For her, it was a way to finally strike back at the close-minded wizards who spent the last five years putting her down. She was guarded before I agreed to take that spanking, but after we shook on it, she decided to have some fun teasing a first year.”

“And you really took that punishment?” Daphne was right to be skeptical.

“I may have snogged her to calm her down first.”

“You snogged her!?” Daphne exclaimed.

“And she really agreed to it?” Tracey asked immediately after.

“Did you see her eyes!?” you retorted, “They were wild and dilated!”

“I’m surprised you noticed her eyes at all,” Greengrass sniped.

“Of course, I did,” you insisted, “The eyes are the key to reading people. She was worked up from her run. If I took a spanking from her in that state, there would’ve been bruising! I was able to calm Yaxley and Rowle down with a snog in the Owlery, and you two watched me take down Millicent with one of those SuperSnogs in my dorm room. I thought I’d do the same to her and take the sting out of her strikes. Admittedly, I had to talk her into it. I framed it as an appreciation snog; a prize, a way to congratulate her on her achievement, and to convey my genuine admiration.”

“I’ve had one of those,” Tracey recalled, “It’s like a personalised Cheering Charm washing through you.”

“She practically tackled me against the storehouse door when I gave her the first dose,” you admitted, “Then I switched it up to a calming snog, which is like a Calming Draught that you give a patient that’s been through a traumatic experience… only probably less potent. I think the hypothetical Cheering Charm and Calming Draught blended together to bring her to a state of calm confidence. To the point where…” You trailed off, “Alright, this is a part I normally wouldn’t tell you because I don’t want to embarrass her, so please try not to freak out…” you prepared yourself for an overreaction from Daphne anyway, “but when we were pressed against each other during the snog… her unzipped top came open… and when she pulled away both her boobs were hanging out.”

“SHE FLA–” You lunged and covered her mouth.

“Sssshh!” you hissed while Daphne’s blue eyes cast you a freezing glare, “I told you not to freak out! We’re close enough to the Great Hall that someone might hear you shouting. Yes, she flashed me… by accident. And the snog had her so calm, mellow, and confident that she barely reacted. She just tucked them away and zipped up. After getting that eyefull, I barely felt her seven swats.” You eyed Daphne warily, “Are you ready to talk at a normal or quieter volume?”

She nodded. You uncovered her mouth. She licked her lips, “I want one.”

“One what?”

“One of those confidence snogs,” Daphne demanded. “You want me to forgive your transgression? That’s my price. I want what you gave her. If you’re refining your magical snogging technique… I want to experience it myself.”

“You want me to influence your emotions?” you questioned.

“It would be in your best interest to calm me down,” Greengrass warned you, “Because I’m about to get REALLY worked up over how stupidly you handled yourself with her!”

You blinked in surprise. She was mad. You were still in hot water… but once again your special snogging skills could potentially get you out of it. And it seemed that’s what she wanted too. “Erm… alright… probably best to do it up against a wall so you don’t fall over in case your legs give out.”

Daphne handed the incentive box off to Tracey, then went over to the wall and braced herself against it. You stepped closer with the Omnioculars dangling by the neck strap held in one hand as you reached out to grasp her shoulder with the other. Daphne had a distinctly floral scent, which was much more pleasant than Jessica’s sweat.

Suddenly, there was movement out of the corner of your eye… and there was Tracey standing beside you and eying you like a hawk.

“Do you want one too?” you inquired.

She shook her head, “If you’re going to drug Daphne, then I need to stay sober.”

“Don’t say ‘drug’,” you requested, “That sounds too malicious for something she’s very clearly asking for.”

“Tweak? Emotionally influence? Cast your spell on her? Special Snog?” she offered a barrage of suggestions as she adjusted her charmed glasses, “I’ll be keeping an eye on you both either way.”

If this thing with you and Daphne Greengrass was going to work out… then you needed to get used to Tracey Davis watching you snog her best friend.

“I wonder if it counts towards the Broom Closet Club when there’s a witness?” You’d have to wait to find out. Between your Irish National Team robes and their ‘Gaunt’ Slytherin jumpers, none of you were wearing an official Hogwarts uniform to verify if this counted on your respective badges.

Your gaze returned to Daphne, who was eying you expectantly. You contemplated how to give her the same sensation as you gave Mateo. She saw it as hesitation, “What’s the matter? You’ve snogged me before.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “but even though you said you wanted what I gave her… a Jessica Mateo appreciation snog wouldn’t feel the same to Daphne Greengrass. I’m still getting the hang of this, so unless you want me to flood you with feelings of appreciation for another girl’s toned physique, Amazon tenacity, and athletic prowess… you need to give me a few seconds so I can personalise it for you.”

Jessica Mateo and Daphne Greengrass were like night and day. Jessica was the half-blood daughter of a muggleborn wizard, and spent the last five years being put down by racist purebloods. She trained hard, she pushed herself, and she EARNED her high standing position as one of the star players of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Daphne was a pureblood princess from one of the Sacred families. She came from a life of privilege and inherited an affinity for plants through the Greengrass family magic.

The Ravenclaw’s humble origins meant she had to fight for everything she wanted in a society where blood purity measured your influence. She was closed-off and guarded, only letting in a select few. Fawley’s reaction to Jessica ‘making a new friend’ meant she likely didn’t have many beyond her Quidditch teammates. Meanwhile, the Slytherin witch was a nosy busybody who expected to be told things and became highly annoyed when people withheld information from her. But being a privileged princess from the upper echelons of pureblood society didn’t make her a bad person. Quite the contrary, the way she defended, supported, and protected Tracey showed that she was one of the most open-minded Slytherin purebloods. Open minded was good. Loyalty was good.

You’d have to be blind not to notice their drastically different appearances. Mateo had that milk chocolate complexion, striking dark eyes, and dark brown hair that she kept in a simple and efficient ponytail. Greengrass had piercing, icy blues and smooth, pale skin, which contrasted sharply with her dark - black - hair that was several shades darker than the other girl’s. Today was a special occasion where Daphne was wearing her hair in an over-the-shoulder ponytail to show off her ‘Gaunt’ jumper, normally she wore it straight down to the middle of her back. Doing something special for your special occasion… very good.

Jessica was eighteen and stood at a statuesque five-foot-nine with the fully developed body of a young woman. Her muscle tone was something only the strongest and most athletic witch professional Quidditch players could match. Daphne, on the other hand, was within a quarter inch of your modest five-foot-three height and was only a first year, which meant she was either thirteen or fourteen - you’d need to ask when her birthday was - and was born within a few months of you. Much like you, she was still in the early stages of puberty. The younger witch still had a lithe, girlish form and was only just beginning to bud, and - as much as you were eagerly awaiting your own growth spurt - you were curious to see what interesting ways Greengrass grew over the next four years. Given their drastically different lifestyles and interests, you suspected she’d have softer, more feminine curves compared to Mateo’s hard, toned athletic muscles. Daphne still had plenty of potential for growth. Potential was good.

But rather than dwell on how different the two girls were… you started to think of how they were similar. Things you admired the most about them. Daphne Greengrass would likely never have Jessica Mateo’s Amazon physique, but she certainly had similarly tenacious spirit. You could still recall the two separate occasions where she doggedly chased you around Hogwarts. She didn’t have Mateo’s training or conditioning, but still caught you both times, which made those feats even more impressive. Tenacity was good.

Jessica was also very bold. Unzipping her outfit and raising the legs to show off her cleavage, abs, legs, and even her breasts was the highlight of your morning. But when you closed your eyes, you could still picture Daphne standing in your dorm room with her mint green knickers on full display. Her robes and skirt cast off so she could watch the scene of Hermione Granger setting Professor Snape on fire. She was even bold enough to give you those knickers afterwards. That was meant to be an outrageous demand, something to make her back off because you really didn’t want to tell her about creepy Quirrell’s murderous tendencies. But Daphne didn’t back down. The fact of the matter was, you wouldn’t have a collection of girls’ knickers if Daphne Greengrass hadn’t been bold enough to start it. Daphne’s near insatiable curiosity often overrode her sense of modesty.

“It seems I favor the bold type,” you mused to yourself, then addressed Daphne out loud, “Alright, I’ve got you.”

You brought your hand from her shoulder to her face and gently cupped her cheek, but Tracey interrupted and poked your shoulder. “Uh-uh! Other hand!”

Oh, right, she wanted to watch the magic mites pass from you to Daphne. Your hand cupping Daphne’s cheek would block her view. Daphne shot her best friend a brief stab of irritation as you passed your Omnioculars from one hand to the other. Properly motivated and underrated, you brought your left hand up to cup her right cheek, then leaned in, and kissed her. This wasn’t Daphne’s first ParselSnog, and she eagerly accepted your tongue as you hissed your appreciation for her. §KiiiiSSSSssssSSSS§ You focused on your appreciation for her open-mindedness, her loyalty, her support, her tenacity, and her bold spirit as you channeled it into her..

“MMMMHHHH!” Daphne’s squeak turned into a pleased moan as she received your tingling appreciation. Greengrass’s arms ensnared you, dragging you closer, and pressing you flush against her like tendrils of Devil’s Snare. It was obvious that she LIKED the appreciation snog and wanted MORE!

You also appreciated Daphne’s smaller frame and being roughly the same size as you because it meant you weren’t in danger of being smothered. You added that appreciation to your snog as well. §KiiiiSSSSssssSSSS§

But now that had her worked up and properly expressed your admiration, it was time to calm her down. Hopefully, she wouldn’t still be cross with you after this. §Calm§ The calming sensation worked its magic as the strength left her arms, and while she was still clinging to you… she was no longer squeezing. She hadn’t been worked up as Mateo, she wasn’t aggressive, and she wasn’t distressed… so you limited her to two doses of the calming snog as you gently caressed her tongue with yours. §Calm§

When you pulled away, Daphne was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed and a serene smile on her face. “Mmmmmmm… that was brilliant. It was like a warm glow… then it became a cool, soothing breeze… Mmmmm… I wonder how long this feeling will last?”

Daphne provided the description of how it felt, you turned to Tracey for a description of how it looked.

“That tracks,” your observer reported. “I saw the green magical mites from last time. The first few were brighter and looked like they carried more energy… her jumper is glowing a faint yellow from the Warming Charms woven into it… but she took on a green glow of her own as your sparks spread through her.” You felt Daphne tug your Omnis out of your hand, “But the second set of mites… those were darker, I don’t mean dimmer or less bright, but more like a richer, fuller color. The glow got fainter during the second part… and now that’s your no longer casting it… I can barely see it, and only because we’re in a dark closet. If we were outside, it would be hidden in the light.”

“I reckon that’s why you didn’t see Mateo glowing after I snogged her,” you reasoned.

“Her jumpsuit was glowing faintly the whole time,” Tracey told you. “Light yellow and white, which were especially hard to see in the morning sun, but stood out more when she was in the shade running through the trees.”

“Yellow for the Warming Charm…” you recounted the color of the previously mentioned clothing enchantment, “And I guess the white was some kind of adjustable sizing charm. That kit was snug. And she was able to draw the legs up into shorts, then drop them back down into joggers when she was done.”

“Those look quite nice, actually,” Daphne remarked as she watched one of the recorded scenes on your Omnis. “If you like big and brown and bouncy. If I had big baps like hers, instead of just a pair of buds in my training bra, I’d flaunt myself half naked in front of you too.”

You blinked, then made a point to clean your ear to ensure you weren’t hearing things. It seemed calm, confident Daphne was also BLUNT Daphne. You looked over at Tracey and saw that her brown eyes had gone wide behind her glasses, so she too was surprised by Daphne’s candor.

But wait… “Are you… envious of her?” you prodded. That wasn’t how a confidence snog was supposed to work. Granted, you’d only done it to one person whose mind worked differently than Daphne’s.

“No,” Greengrass insisted. “Everyone knows you don’t eat fruit before it’s ripe, and you don’t pluck flowers before they’re fully bloomed. I’ve still got some ripening and blooming to do. I may not have much to work with up top yet, but I’ve got a small patch of dark and curlies coming in downstairs.” She DROPPED your Omnioculars! You dove and managed to catch them before they hit the floor. “Here… see?” And as you were kneeling in front of her, the girl boldly grabbed the hem of her skirt, and pulled it up.

You looked. You were already close to the raised curtain, so it was an automatic, knee jerk reaction to the girl raising her skirt and offering you a gander.

It was a trap.

You knew she wasn’t wearing knickers, but all you saw was a dark shroud. Much like Sandra’s shroud from two days ago, the Skirt Obscurus Charm created a veil of shadows beneath Daphne’s knee-length skirt and provided MORE concealment for her bare bits than her knickers.

“Hah!” Daphne let out a light, casual chuckle, “He looked! He knows we know the charm, but he looked anyway!” You tore your gaze from the dark shroud and met a pair of teasing pale blue eyes as she smirked and practically sang, “~Marvolo wants to see my flower!~”

“Okay, let’s put this away,” Tracey stepped in between you and brushed down Daphne’s raised skirt. “Did you shatter her inhibitions or something?”

“I favor the bold type,” you shared your revelation as you stood and slipped your Omnis’ strap onto your wrist. “I shared my admiration for her boldness in my snog. This is what happens when you give a naturally bold girl a confidence boost.”

Rather than be upset at her best friend for ending her show, Daphne hooked her arms around Tracey’s belly and hugged her from behind. “It feels fantastic, Tracey. Imagine the person you fancy letting you feel all the things they like about you. Mother and father would scold me for being ‘improper’, but we’re in private with a pervert! What does he care about propriety while we’re alone in a broom cupboard?”

Daphne’s arms slipped up to grab her friend’s chest and you hastily reached out and caught her wrists before she could make contact.

“Careful!” You warned her, “There’s a ward of some kind around the school that alerts the prefects and staff when students are engaging in underage sexual contact. If you want to keep this a private encounter, keep those bold hands to yourself.”

But as you eyed Daphne’s wandering hands, your eyes drifted to the chest you’d prevented her from grabbing and noted the small swell that was filling out the front of Tracey’s Slytherin jumper. If girls’ bras went by letter as they increased in size, then Fawley’s big ones were Es, and Gemma’s were Ds, Jessica’s spandex compression bra compacted her Cs down to Bs like Sandra’s, and that meant Tracey was sporting a pair of As. You weren’t sure what that said for the previously mentioned ‘buds’ in Daphne’s training bra.

“Uh oh, Tracey!” Daphne called out as she leaned forward to ‘whisper’ in her best friend’s ear, and repeated your words from earlier, “The eyes are the key to reading people! And it looks like my favorite pervert just discovered that your blossoms are bigger than my buds!” Miss Greengrass was going hard on the plant analogies.

“EEP!” Tracey squeaked as she found herself caught between you and a teasing Daphne. She was close enough that you were able to make out the pink tint of her blush in the dim light.

“Wanna show him your dark Charmwork too?”

“NOO!” Davis shrieked and broke your hold on Daphne’s left wrist as she lunged out from between you. “I can’t be between you when you’re like this! If he’s a pervert, and you’re enabling him, then I’m going to be the one who winds up embarrassed!”

It was looking like you were both perverts. With her friend no longer in the way, Bold-Daphne found a new target, and threw her arms around your neck and pressed her lithe body against you in a snug hug. Instinct compelled you to encircle your arms around the slim girl’s waist and cradle her against you. The Omnioculars dangled from your wrist by the neck strap. She was all warm, and soft, and floral-scented, and girl.

But Greengrass was still on the move, she started wiggling and weaving in your hold. It was awkward to stay rooted in place while she was moving, so you swayed in time with her, and it was almost as if you were dancing together. Dancing Daphne leaned into your side and used her hold around your neck to ‘steer’ you and turned you around, then pressed you back into the wall where you had her earlier.

This new position seemed to please her, because Daphne nuzzled her cheek against yours - giving you a good sniff of whatever herbal shampoo she used - and sighed contentedly. “There. Now I get to snuggle with Snuggles.” You smiled faintly and held her against you. “I’m going to see you in those pajamas, Marvolo. You can either show me yourself of your own free will and on your terms, or you can keep trying to hide them, and I’ll lie in wait, and eventually catch you in them when it’s inconvenient.”

Well, that was the most adorable ultimatum anyone had ever given you. And it echoed the one from the library, which told you she was serious about it.

Over Daphne’s shoulder, Tracey was staring at you, and you noted she set the incentive box against the closet wall. You rubbed one hand up and down Daphne’s back and hugged her against you with your other arm, “Probably safest to keep her like this so she doesn’t pull anyone else’s clothes off and get us all in trouble.”

“I’ll pull your clothes off,” Daphne mumbled. That sounded like an intrusive thought Greengrass opted to voice rather than bury.

“You should probably start talking again,” Davis suggested, “That way Daphne won’t say as many things that could potentially embarrass her when she sobers up.”

“I’m already up,” Daphne informed the wall behind you, “If anything, I’d be coming down from a wonderful high.”

Arms still full of Daphne, you decided to heed Tracey’s advice, and continued your ongoing tale, “Right… erm… well, the snog did the trick and calmed Mateo down. And after her unexpected show… I barely felt her swats when I turned around and took my seven licks.”

“Heh!” Daphne chuckled, and then proceeded to lick your cheek. That was weird. You squirmed and tilted your head away from her tongue. “Oh, I see, you get to use your magic tongue to explore the inside of seven Slytherin girls’ mouths, but I try to use my tongue and that’s uncomfortable for you.”

You sighed, she had you there. You tilted your head back toward her and presented your cheek for further licking, which Bold-Daphne didn’t hesitate to do and ran her tongue from the top of your jawline all the way up to the edge of your edge of your eye socket. Still weird. But you endured it. Because she put up with a bunch of your weirdness and now it was time for you to - literally - turn the other cheek. You suspect you had five or six more licks coming.

“Erm… so… after I took my… spanking,” Daphne licked you again despite your attempt at avoiding saying ‘licks’. Good grief. “I challenged her to bet double for the match. Placing a side-bet on the match between us had been my goal from the beginning.”

Tracey embraced the change of subject, “Double… meaning eight if she scores and another two for every goal thereafter?” Daphne decided that meant she should lick you twice. That was five. You already dealt with Yaxley trying to nibble and bite you… you could handle Daphne licking you several times.

“No and yes, that was the original idea, but she offered to trade those first eight swats for another appreciation snog, claiming that her scoring on me after all my trash talking will be punishment enough. I already have loads of pressure and a box of knickers riding on shutting her out… so I was fine agreeing to her terms. And on my end, if I succeed in shutting her out, I get her sports bra and her knickers, which are also made of spandex and - you may be aware - are, ironically, called spanks.” Daphne giggled. “We shook on it… and that is when I did my ‘eye thing’.”

Greengrass promptly stopped giggling… while Davis looked disappointed.

You rushed to explain, “After seeing firsthand what that witch is capable of when she pushes herself… I might have been a bit intimidated to square off with her. I planted a tiny seed in her head: ‘every time I block one of your shots, you’re going to imagine me spanking you in front of everyone.’ It only affects her on the pitch in matches against me, and it relies entirely on me actually doing well against her and blocking her shots. I don’t even know if it will last long enough for it to affect her when Slytherin plays Ravenclaw next year.”

Tracey shook her head, “I think the fact that you’re trying to justify yourself to me means that deep down you know you did the wrong thing. Now you’ll never know if you could’ve beaten her at her best… OR there’s a chance it could backfire like your unzipping plan! What if the embarrassing imaginary spanking motivates her to push herself and come at you even harder?”

You hadn’t thought of that.

“I’m glad he did it.”

Daphne’s voice cut through the small room as she punctuated her bold statement with a notably proud lick of your cheek before pulling back to stare you in the eyes.

“You are?”

Her eyes dipped to your lips and she indulged her urge and kissed you, then pulled back again, “In my eyes, you were leveling the playing field. Because as much as you were trying to wear her out and get in her head… she was messing with you too.” Your eyes widened. “You’re a horny teenage boy; a pervert. It’s your most obvious and exploitable weakness. She saw you leering at her body and used it to her advantage. Do you think I missed how you slipped and called her Jessica. That’s a far cry from the opponent you were set on destroying to boost your standing when you left the common room this morning. Now you see her as an actual person.”

“How is that a bad thing?” you asked, “She is an actual person. I understand her better.”

“You’ve been compromised,” Daphne stated, “You’re not as focused anymore. And if you don’t believe me… close your eyes.” You closed them. “Can you still picture her boobs?” You could. It hadn’t even been an hour. And then you had a refresher when you saw the scene on your Omnis and recapped the monumental event in your story. “There you go: an implanted though, no magic eyes required. Instead of Mateo - the opponent you were prepared to crush and humiliate out on the pitch… now she’s Jessica - the Amazon with the amazing chocolate tits.” It was like she yanked the words right out of your brain. “Can you honestly say you’d do and feel nothing if Flint fouls her by elbowing her in the face and breaking her nose?”

You opened your eyes, “I’ve been hit by Flint. I’d feel sympathy for anyone who had to endure that. But Quidditch is a notoriously rough game. Anyone who goes out on that pitch knows what they signed up for.”

“What was the first thing she asked you after she flashed you?”

“Why does that matter?” you questioned.

“Because that’s when your mind was blown and your defenses were down,” she said, “You were at your most vulnerable. Do you even remember? Or were you too enchanted by her womanly charms?”

“What’s the matter? First time seeing tits on a black girl?”

“She saw me gawking and asked if it was my first time seeing tits on a black girl.”

“And you answered?” Daphne prodded.

“First time seeing tits on any girl.”

“Really?” Tracey interjected, “Because the rumor is that Farley flashed you in her room back in September. You ran out and insisted you ‘didn’t see anything!’ That made a lot of people assume the opposite. And your face goes red anytime she presses them against you, which she isn’t shy about. The evidence is plainly there for everyone to see.”

“Huh… I thought Farley would’ve shown you hers,” Mateo’s words ran back in your mind, “There’s a rumor that she flashed you her tits back in September and you’ve been ensnared ever since. I was thinking that mine might’ve broken the wicked bitch’s spell.”

“She didn’t,” you insisted.

“And Jessica just learned - from you - that those rumors were false,” Daphne pointed out. “Now she knows that her tits are the ones burned into your mind and Farley’s aren’t. When her boob popped out during her final sprint, she couldn’t do anything about it without sacrificing her speed. That exposure was the culmination of your machinations. When she gave you a better look and flashed you afterwards, it was on her terms. She had control.”

“She said it was an accident,” you argued.

“And you believed her?” Greengrass retorted. “I’ve been walking around without knickers on for over an hour. Despite the Warming Charm and the snog… I am very aware of it. A girl can feel when her parts are uncovered. She would’ve noticed she came untucked as soon as she pulled away. She chose not to cover herself. She deliberately flashed you. And now her tits are ingrained in your mind.”

Was Detective Daphne right? Or was she being overly cynical?

She was right about Gemma. Was she right about Mateo too?

“‘Friend’ might be a bit presumptuous. But it looks like I finally found a Slytherin who doesn’t make my skin crawl.”

“Don’t take it personally, she was playing the game,” Daphne advised, “Retaliate by giving that witch a mental spanking that she’ll never forget.”

It would be hypocritical to get upset about your opponent messing with you, when you were doing the same thing with her. You were playing mind games with a Ravenclaw. You should’ve expected something. You appreciated Daphne for once again wising you up to an older girl’s manipulations and clearing your head.

“Well played, Jessica.”

Greengrass grinned, “She doesn’t get to mess with your head and heart. That’s my job now.”

You smiled, “Oh? Is that what the licking is for?”

“Not quite,” she replied and made a point to lick your cheek a seventh time, “I’m trying to make Marvolo my new favourite flavour.” You blinked and tried to decide if that was more cute or weird, but her smile grew and showed you she wasn’t done. “Also… I’m curious how the taste of your cheek compares to your trouser snake.”

CRITICAL HIT! Your jaw dropped and you face flushed. You did NOT see that coming!

“DAPHNE!” And, apparently, neither did Tracey.

“One more for the Ravenclaw…” Daphne leaned in and licked your flushed cheek, “Ah! Your flesh tastes better when it’s warm and covered in my saliva!“

“URK!” TOO MUCH! TOO MUCH! Your face was burning.

“OH MY GOD!” At least you weren’t the only one caught off guard.

You were assaulted by the fresh mental image of the girl in front of you dropping to her knee and undoing your trousers. Icy blue eyes stared up at you as she–

“Got you!” Daphne interrupted as she patted your cheek to disrupt your train of thought. “I saw your eyes dip down. Did you just imagine me on my knees?”

“…” You were so caught off guard by this different Daphne that your usually quick tongue failed you.

“Consider that my implanted thought,” Greengrass stated with a pleased grin, “Tell Jessica Mateo, Gemma Farley, and their big tits to make some room for Daphne Greengrass. Because I’m going to be planting some dirty seeds of my own in that noggin.” She pushed herself up onto her toes and kissed your forehead.

Suddenly, Tracey threw herself against Daphne’s back and squashed the other girl against you as she clamped her hand over her best friend’s mouth.

“What did you do to her!?” Davis demanded as you were now pinned against the wall by two girls.

“You think this was me?” you questioned.

“You’re the leering pervert!” Tracey insisted, “This has to be your influence on her!”

Daphne grabbed at Tracey’s hand and pulled it off her mouth, “I didn’t see you trying to muzzle Pansy last night when she was going on and on about how amazing Marvolo’s magical, vibrating tongue would feel in our flow–UUHR!” She was cut off when Tracey clamped her hand over Daphne’s mouth again

Pansy too? Nice to know that you weren’t the only Slytherin first year who had naughty thoughts.

“DAPHNE, STOP!” Tracey shrieked, “Control yourself!” She glared past her friend at you, “What did you DO!?”

Between Lysandra ‘the cuddle monster’ and her thing for biting and how she challenged herself to withstand one of your SuperSnogs yesterday… an effusively grateful Evanora stripping herself bottomless, showing off her mole-less bum, and then basically humping your leg as you snogged her… throw in Pansy’s thing about you Parsel-licking flowers… and now this much more brazen and perverted side of Daphne that had come to light… this was becoming a pattern of secretly perverted Sacred pureblood girls.

For Tracey, this perverted side of her best friend came out of nowhere, but as you took a few seconds longer to ponder it… you realised, IT HADN’T! Daphne’s dirty side had been there the whole time, buried beneath the surface, and was finally fully unearthed by your confidence boost.

As you recently recounted, DAPHNE was the one who offered to show you her knickers in exchange for information about Harry Potter’s jinxed broomstick. And she not only accepted your intentionally unreasonable demand of trading you her knickers for more information… but she ran with it!

Daphne was the one who concocted the barmy scheme where Tracey and her Scooby-Doo knickers were the bait so she could catch you using your Serpent’s Gaze on her friend. And as a result, Daphne figured out Tracey’s trigger that made the blonde girl okay with exposing herself… as long as it was for Daphne’s benefit.

“Figured that one out after you messed with us before the Puff-and-Claw match,” Daphne stated. “Who were you protecting then, pervert?”

When the duo finally cornered you in the bunker, Daphne practically torn her favorite knickers off and stuffed them down your jumper to wring information about the Forbidden Corridor out of out. You still remembered her brazenly straddling your stomach and sitting on you when she wasn’t wearing anything under her skirt. There was even a bit when her skirt came untucked from behind her and her bare bum was pressing into your jumper

And as Daphne said herself: “A girl can feel when her parts are uncovered.”

Daphne had embraced the compulsion giving her the urge to kiss you and was now using it as a convenient excuse to do it whenever she wanted. She was the one who made the recently mentioned quip about you compelling Pansy to run starkers through the Great Hall. The Pansy idea wasn’t the only radical suggestion Daphne made about your use of your compulsion that day.

“There were worse things you could have ordered me to do. If you truly wanted nothing to do with me… you could’ve ordered me to leave you alone. And if you were a major pervert instead of just a minor one… you could’ve ordered me to strip naked or do something. But you didn’t.”

And most recently, Daphne was the one credited with the idea for the incentive box and was why all the first year Slytherin girls were spending the morning without knickers on… AND she was the one who recorded the one-minute close-up scene of Jessica Mateo’s exposed tit. And you were reasonably sure she recognised the stain of not-water that Evanora left on the leg of your Quidditch trousers last night.

To call someone a pervert, the accuser had to recognise and understand when the guilty party was being perverted. This new revelation brought you to a resounding conclusion: Daphne Greengrass had a dirty mind.

“Oh no,” you defended yourself, “this wasn’t me. This is her. Sacred pureblood girls have certain standards of decorum they have to uphold in public. Some can get away with over-the-top behavior…” Yaxley. “…but most have to hold their tongue and maintain their family honor by appearing as refined, pureblood princesses. What you’re looking at is a pureblood girl who has finally been given the encouragement and freedom to say any dirty thought that crosses her mind. This is Daphne Greengrass… completely unfiltered.”

“Daphne doesn’t talk like this in private!” Her best friend objected.

“Or are you not willing to listen?” you countered, “Back in November, you were all up-in-arms about how Daphne tells you everything. But perhaps, these are the kinds of thoughts she keeps to herself because she knows they’d upset you? I’m not the one with my hand clamped over her mouth.”

Tracey flinched and pulled her arm back. Daphne retreated… towards you. Her cheek brushed against yours as she leaned into you. Her arms around your neck crossed over each other as she pulled herself as close as possible.

“If you think about it,” you continued, “It explains why she went after me so hard… I’m her favorite pervert. Perhaps she sensed that I wouldn’t judge, shame, or belittle her for sharing her naughty thoughts?”

With Daphne clinging to you, that meant you were staring directly at Davis. She looked conflicted, like she didn’t want to believe what you were telling her about her best friend. “I don’t want to hear this from you! I want to hear it from her! Wasn’t the snog supposed to make her confident? Why’s she hiding?”

“I think her not answering is an answer in itself,” you pointed out, “If I was wrong… Bold-Daphne would say something and correct me. The snog made her confident enough to share this hidden side of herself, but even the most confident person in the world can still be hurt if they’re rejected by their best friend.”

“I’m not rejecting her!” Tracey objected.

“No?” you asked, “This caught me by surprise too. But I’m doing my best to take Dirty Daphne in stride. You’re the one who’s been scolding her, silencing her, and accusing me of bewitching her. As if Daphne speaking her mind and being herself is wrong.”

Tracey reeled back and retreated, looking shocked and confused, “I’m just trying to look after her!” Daphne was her anchor and guide through the Wizarding world, Tracey was lost without her.

At the same time, Daphne was desperately clinging to you while mumbling the words, “Make it better…” Which told you she didn’t want to lose her best friend.

As for you, you didn’t want to be the cause of a rift between such close friends, and sought to bridge the gap with more understanding. A seemingly innocuous comment Daphne made about your muggleborn nanny and her boyfriend Reg rang through your mind. “Are you sure they were just snogging when you were in the other room?” The comment rang differently with an altered perspective and new context.

“Allow me to spin you a tale of how we got to this point, Davis,” you offered, before nudging Daphne with your cheek, “Stop me if I get off track.” You turned your attention to the blonde half-blood. “A curious girl often wonders what happens behind closed doors, so she makes a habit of snooping. One of those closed doors happens to be her parents’ bedroom and she catches them in an… intimate embrace.”

“…” No intervention from Daphne meant you were on track. Based on her comments about the taste of your cheek, she’d very likely witnessed her mother giving her father a blowjob.

“Rather than be repulsed by such a display, the curious girl is intrigued since they both appeared to enjoy themselves. But when she asks questions to understand what she witnessed, she’s shushed and told to keep quiet and that it’s not proper for a young lady her age to talk about such things. The fact that she’s told this by the very people she caught committing the carnal act makes being interested in it feel wrong.”

“…” Daphne remained quiet. You were still on the right track. Her previous comment about her parents calling her lewd behavior or comments ‘improper’ led you in the right direction.

“And so the curious girl grew up with the stigma that talking about such dirty matters is perverted and improper. She doesn’t want to be judged and shamed by you, or her family, or her other friends in Slytherin, or the rest of the respected members of the Pureblood community, so she locked her dirty thoughts away in a chest and buried it in her secret garden.”

“…” Davis was staring silently. Greengrass was once again clinging to you like Devil’s Snare. Her hold felt desperate, possessive. You were reminded of your own role in Daphne’s story.

“But then the curious girl met a mysterious boy… and she recognised him as a fellow pervert and realised she could be herself around him, and that he wouldn’t shirk away from a little extra dirt and naughtiness. He gave her a key to her chest and encouraged her to dig it up… and now that treasure trove of repressed, naughty thoughts has burst open, flinging dirt on the two people closest to her.”

“I wouldn’t spout off like this in public,” Daphne finally spoke while still facing away from Tracey. “I still have my dignity. But I thought this was a safe space.”

You and Tracey locked eyes and you both came to a similar revelation. Daphne’s over-the-top teasing after her confidence boost wasn’t just one thing, but came from a combination of the supportive snog… a desire to make up for lost time… and who she was with: her best friend and her favorite pervert.

“You do realise,” you said as you nudged Daphne’s cheek again and smiled at her, “That the next time you call me, Mr. Pervert… I am well within my rights to clap back and call you MRS. PERVERT.”

“MISS. Pervert,” Daphne corrected as she ran a hand down your back, “You don’t get to call me Mrs. Pervert unless you marry me.”

Why did that make you blush!? You cleared your throat, “Eh-hem… right… erm… We’ve gotten through to her. Time to finish this, princess. That means you need to face her now. Don’t worry, I’ll help you through it.”

Greengrass relinquished her Devil’s Snare stranglehold and turned around to face her friend. You shifted her toward your right side so the similarly-sized girl’s bum was pressed against your thigh and not your bits, then wrapped your arms around her and, literally, supported her from behind.

“Here she is, Davis,” you announced. “Dirty Daphne. Imagine she’s come from the greenhouse after wrangling an especially stubborn plant and is covered head-to-toe in potting soil. What are you going to do? Reject her because she did something dirty that felt natural to her? Scold her for making a mess? Shy away so you don’t get any filth and grime on you?” You squeezed Daphne reassuringly, “Or do you sacrifice a little dignity and accept some messiness in your life - because you care about the girl under the grime - and embrace her for the dirty girl she is?”

Tracey spoke, seemingly addressing you, “Our mothers were friends when they went to Hogwarts together. They told us to always look out for each other.” That explained why the meddling kids were practically joined at the hip from Day One. Tracey’s gaze went to Daphne, “You don’t have to hide anything from me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Daphne was once again cocooned in between you as Tracey closed in, wrapped her in a hug, and squeezed her tightly. A pair of brown eyes stared at you over Daphne’s shoulder. A past comment from Daphne told you what needed to be done next.

“Show me,” Daphne responded.

“What?”

“You said after you snogged Tracey that you focused on positive emotions. Well, I’m waiting for my thank you kiss. Show me. Let me feel how much you appreciate me, how much you trust me, how much you like me.”

“Kiss her,” you advised.

“What!?” Davis gasped.

“Kissing is all about sharing your feelings with the other person. It’s not exclusive to me. You can do it too. You know better than I do that Daphne likes to see, feel, and experience things for herself. Show her how much you appreciate her, how much you trust her, and how much you still care.”

Daphne squirmed against you as she recognised her own words from Thursday, Tracey hesitated for only a few seconds… then took the plunge and kissed her.

Heh. Two teenage girls kissing! On top of that not-entirely-accidental flash you got, and this was shaping up to be a very good morning for Marvolo Gaunt. Your lucky Irish Quidditch robes were getting one last hurrah before you retired them in favor of your new Slytherin ones.

“Mmmm!” Tracey let out a muffled squeak when Daphne decided to share her feelings for her best friend and slipped her some tongue.

“Those two are going to be alright,” you resolved, pleased that you could help Daphne and Velma discover and overcome their issues. You relaxed and continued to enjoy your up-close view of two attractive young witches snogging. Tracey closed her eyes and brought her tongue into the mix. And while Daphne was still initiating in the tongue department, Tracey was responding.

It was almost as if the two girls were having a silent conversation. You imagined it went something like:

Daphne: Yes, this really is me. He wasn’t lying.

Tracey: Okay, I accept you. I just want you to be careful.

They came apart, and when Tracey opened her eyes, her face flushed when she saw you over Daphne’s shoulder.

“Welcome to snogging with an audience, Davis,” you said, “I have a feeling we’ll all need to get used to it.”

“You two kiss now,” Daphne ordered. “That’s the only remaining combination.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Okay,” Tracey agreed surprisingly quickly, “But… a normal kiss… I still want to stay sober.”

“Alright,” you replied. It wasn’t like this was the first time you snogged Tracey. There were two less people in the room this time. You both leaned around Daphne and met near her ear. You suspected Davis’ quick agreement meant she had something she wanted to ‘say’, so you closed your eyes and let her take the lead.

Your third snog of the day started off soft and it felt like Tracey was expressing her gratitude for helping her and Daphne come to an understanding. But then it increased in intensity and turned outright fierce. It was a clear warning, ‘Don’t mess with my friend’s head!’ You responded in what you hoped came across as a friendly and agreeable manner.

“I like this,” Daphne declared once you broke your kiss with her best friend, “Being sandwiched between my two favorite Slytherins, all three of us getting along.”

Tracey’s face was still close to yours, “Look, Davis, you and Daphne are so close that I assume you were a sort of package deal. I’m not trying to steal her. Or corrupt her. Or come between you and your best friend.”

Daphne giggled, “I wouldn’t mind that last one… someday.”

The remark caused Tracey’s cheeks to flush and you were pretty sure yours were matching hers. “I do believe Dirty Daphne just proposed a future threesome.”

“I… I haven’t even had a twosome!” Davis stammered. That wasn’t a ‘No!’

“None of us have,” you reassured her, “And with the ward preventing inappropriate touching, it will likely be a while. From what I’ve been able to observe… snogging on its own won’t get us in trouble. And as Daphne just showed us, neither does licking someone’s face. Hand holding, linking elbows, and arms over the shoulders seem to be safe. Hands on the back or waist for intimate hugging, like we’ve been doing for some time, are obviously alright, so long as you keep your hands above the waist.”

“So no grabbing each other’s bums?” Daphne inquired.

“No,” you answered.

“Pity.”

You smiled in amusement and continued to outline safe and unsafe touching. “Erm… legs get more dangerous the higher up you go. And private parts on the central mass are definitely off limits. No touching them and no rubbing them on each other. I imagine any touching beneath clothing would also be violating the rules.”

“Guess this means I’m stuck with shower solosomes until we figure something else out,” Daphne airily remarked, “Oh well. Truthfully, I want to have something more to fondle before we try circumventing those rules.”

“Getting dirty while getting clean, eh?” you teased her.

“Where else am I supposed to do it?” she countered, “Standing is a little uncomfortable, but the running water drowns out any sounds.”

“Oh my God… “ Tracey groaned as her blush spread to the rest of her face. Yes, you were really talking about this. But to pretend teenagers didn’t masturbate would be a feat of willful ignorance.

“Where do you give it a tug?” Daphne asked accusingly, “In your room while Malfoy’s there?”

“No, same place,” you admitted. “It’d be really awkward doing that with another bloke in the room.” The benefit of being an early riser and a Quidditch player was that no one else was awake yet when you took your early morning shower. And when you showered after a late Quidditch practice, all the boys who shared your first and second year bathroom - aside from Draco - had already taken their evening shower. You usually had the bathroom to yourself, unless someone came in to use the toilet. “Soaps and lotions are good for lubrication.”

“Wanker!” Daphne jeered.

“OH MY GOD!” Tracey gasped as her blush got darker.

“What?” you defended yourself, “Everyone does it. Especially starting at our age. Your parts are growing and are notably sensitive… so you play with them a little. Are you going to lie to us and say you don’t?”

Tracey squeaked, then shifted her position to the side and buried her face against your left shoulder so she didn’t have to look at you when she answered. “I could never do it in the shower. I’d be too nervous about someone coming in and catching me.”

“That’s part of the thrill,” Greengrass needled her friend.

“I do it in our room… when Daphne’s in the shower,” Davis confessed. “Now I know why she takes so long.”

You smiled in amusement and extracted your arm from beneath her, then wrapped it around the outside of her to add her to the hug alongside Daphne. “Listen, Davis, I understand that being caught between two perverts can be overwhelming… especially when we’re playing off of each other and escalating things. To make you more comfortable in this dirty dynamic… how about we give you a special passphrase. Something you can say to let us know things are getting too awkward for you, and we’ll tone it down and back off.”

“A safe word,” Daphne supplied.

You grinned at Velma and made a suggestion, “How ‘bout ‘Jinkies’?”

“NO!” Tracey adamantly rejected that one, “Don’t you dare taint Velma’s catchphrase!”

“Well, ‘Zoinks!’ would sound too silly,” you reasoned, “Oh! Why don’t we use Daphne’s catchphrase ‘Jeepers’? That’s common enough that you could even work it into a casual conversation without sounding outlandish if we’re making a scene in public.”

“Let’s try it out,” Tracey proposed while doing a fair Daphne Blake impression, “Jeepers, you guys! I’d really appreciate it if we could stop talking about our private masturbation habits!”

“Alright,” you agreed, “Then why don’t you offer a change of subject, Davis.”

She had one ready, “Tracey. We’ve snogged twice now. And if this is a position we’re going to regularly find ourselves in, then there’s no need to be stuffy and formal. You can call me Tracey. I also like being the Velma to your Fred and Daphne.”

“I’ll do my best,” you said, “I’ve been referring to you as ‘Tracey’ in my head for a while now. But certain social situations require the formal use of a surname.”

“Being crammed in a broom closet together isn’t one of them,” she pointed out.

“I like it when you call me ‘princess’,” Daphne informed you of her nickname preference. “It offers a nice contrast. Princess and Miss. Greengrass in public… then Dirty Daphne and Miss. Pervert in private.”

“Do I get a nickname?” you inquired.

“You mean aside from Mr. Pervert and Snuggles?” she retorted.

“Please don’t call me either of those in very public settings,” you requested.

“But you’re so cute and snuggly,” Daphne protested as she wiggled against you, “Tell him, Tracey.”

“Erm… I guess I like being part of the cuddle better than sitting awkwardly in the corner and watching it.”

“See? You’re outvoted,” Daphne declared. Tracey’s ambiguous answer involving cuddling hadn’t sounded like a vote for the Snuggles nickname. But you failed to voice your objection before Daphne looked back at you, blue eyes twinkling in the dim room, and added, “Besides, you’re my diamond.”

“Diamond?” you repeated. It was better than Snuggles.

“Short for Diamond in the Rough,” the pureblood princess stated, “From that muggle fantasy film. Didn’t you notice? I have my hair braided like the princess’.”

“I noticed your braided hair,” you defended yourself as you eyed the long, dark, over-the-shoulder braid, “but I haven’t seen the film to recognise the reference.”

“In his defense,” Tracey imparted, “Your hair isn’t half as long as Princess Jasmine’s. Hers goes down to her knees.”

“Sounds like she has an entirely different reason for taking long showers,” you remarked. “I suppose - with that context - ‘princess’ and ‘diamond’ pair well together.”

The bell from the clocktower echoed through the closet. It kept going another eight times. Nine O' Clock. If it was a weekday, that would be the foreboding message that you were late for your first class of the day. Thankfully, it was Saturday and there were no classes.

“As fun as this is… I have a Quidditch match in two hours,” you stated, “I need to eat something, and properly digest it before then.”

The two witches pinning you to the wall extracted themselves and you made a point to straighten your Irish Quidditch robes. Daphne snagged your Omnioculars from off of your wrist and slipped the strap over her neck.

“Oh, and before we leave,” you decided to warn them of what else you’d learned, “I should warn you. Be careful what you say in the common room. There’s a spy in Slytherin house.”

“What!?” Tracey gasped.

“Just one?” Daphne asked much more coolly as she spun around to face you.

“You can’t just drop something like that and expect us to walk away!” Tracey insisted.

“Fawley knew too much,” you explained, “You expect Ravenclaws to be intelligent - that’s their thing. But it’s what they knew that unnerved me. Both Fawley and Mateo made the same comment about ‘a little birdie’ telling them things. I suspect it was the same person; a Slytherin informant. Telling the teammates of Skye Parkin that I’m a fan of her older sister Blythe Parkin and the Tornados is a little suspect. I’m not shy about my Quidditch allegiance, but it’s not like I invite dozens of people into my room to see my Blythe Parkin poster. But after Fawley told me Mateo’s real bra size… she said ‘a little birdie told me you’re more interested in knickers.’”

“…” a pair of intense stares told you they were taking the threat of this rat for the Ravenclaws seriously, which you appreciated. Although, Daphne’s sudden smile told you she appreciated being presented with a new mystery.

“Draco had no context,” you continued, “but I’m pretty sure he saw my claiming Mateo’s sports bra as her ante for the failed strategic maneuver that it was. Mateo didn’t give any signs that she knew either. But Fawley’s comment implied that she knows about my knickers collection.” You lowered your voice, “This is exactly why I try to keep the contents of my collection close to the chest. Because this means one of the eight witches I collected from must have told her.”

“You don’t think it was us, do you?” Tracey questioned.

“No,” you answered, “She didn’t say anything about Potter’s jinxed broomstick, or my Quirrell conspiracy theories, or the subject of my extra credit assignment, or that thing I can do with my eyes. That proves you two can keep a secret. I want to believe that Millicent is loyal enough that she wouldn’t spill my secrets to a Ravenclaw either. And I doubt the non-Slytherin in my collection even knows who Artemis Fawley is. That leaves me with four suspects. The first of which is why I’m bringing it up to you two in private: Parkinson. We all know she uses people and you two know her better than I do. I may have made her think it’s normal to trade me knickers for favors, but do you think she could have casually revealed that to Fawley?”

“We weren’t exactly glued to her side this term,” Tracey admitted, “We spent plenty of time following you since we came back from the holidays. She could have gone to Fawley while we weren’t around.”

“Hm…” Daphne hummed calmly as she pondered it for a moment. Perhaps your calming, confident snog boosted her vaunted mystery solving skills? Because she had a much more thorough and thoughtful answer. “Fawley came to Pansy’s Christmas party. She even greeted her when she arrived, like most guests do with the hosting family. They exchanged pleasantries… nothing serious… and then Fawley went off to mingle with other guests. She flies in different social circles than us. That’s the only time I can ever recall them speaking.” She shook her head, “But, ultimately, I don’t think Pansy would reveal that she gave you her knickers unless Fawley already suspected and offered her something for the information. Maybe if the secret became public and contributing to your collection suddenly became a trendy thing, then Pansy would try to spin things like she knew all along and boast about giving you the most. But I don’t think Pansy would risk embarrassing herself by openly telling people she traded you her knickers, even if she does think it’s normal.”

You nodded and accepted Daphne’s analysis as someone who had known Pansy for years. “That leaves me with the three fifth years as our suspects. Normally, I’d rule out Gemma because it seems silly that she’d leak information to someone she’s shown open hostility for. But at this point, I don’t know what she’s capable of anymore. She’s the one who coaxed her friends into giving me their knickers when I figured out they were behind the Bletchley thing and she casually revealed a couple of her friends’ dirty secrets… so she’s already a known leak.”

“But it’s not a strong motive,” Daphne imparted. “She wouldn’t work with Fawley unless she was getting something extremely significant. Telling her things about you when we know she wants you for herself would be counterproductive to her goals.”

You didn’t protest Daphne’s logic for ruling out Gemma and moved to the next suspect, “Yaxley is another obvious suspect and a proven source of leaks. Fawley said she was openly bragging about snogging me and Zabini yesterday. But she referred to her by name and not as a little birdie. When Yaxley does something, it’s usually flashy and obvious. She was also the one who poked her head in while Gemma was teaching me the Knockback Jinx. Gemma told her she was only tutoring me and to spread that around to anyone who questions the strange noises coming from her room… but she could’ve put her own spin on it and started the rumor about Gemma flashing me.”

“Remember what I said about the obvious choice,” Daphne warned you.

“I know…” you replied, “which is why I’m turning my attention to Rowle. Of the three, she’s the sneaky one. After learning she poisoned Bletchley, I swore I’d keep a closer eye on her. But I did something really nice for her…”

“Nice enough that she humped your leg in a broom closet and grooled all over your trousers?” Daphne suggested as her eyes flicked down to eye your leg where the stain once was. Grool? That was a new one.

“You did recognise the stain!” you realised. “And by the way, Gemma said Evanora set off her ‘prefect’ alert. I’m assuming it was the leg humping, so don’t get any ideas.”

“That was our ‘Jinkies!’ moment,” Velma informed you. “From that, we figured out that the ‘nice thing’ you did for her was get rid of a mole. It’s basic deductive reasoning: you created a mole removal potion… and she was grateful enough to hump your leg in a broom closet without any knickers on.”

“That was also an effect of the snog I owed her from the advanced Charms lesson she gave you,” you defended Nora, “She mentioned a bad breakup last year and Gemma corroborated it by saying Evanora’s coming off of a dry spell as an excuse for why she got so carried away.”

Daphne wasn’t deterred, you could tell she was still riding high on the focused confidence of your snog. “We don’t know exactly where the mole was. But between the leg humping and the fact that you’re not mooning over seeing her baps… we assumed it was somewhere on her bottom half. Big enough to be a cause for concern and close to her bits for it to be an embarrassing secret blemish that she was desperate to be rid of.”

You blinked in surprise at the meddling kids’ mystery solving skills. “That’s more accurate than I’d ever care to admit. But it’s a private matter between me and her, so you’ll forgive me for not spilling her dirty secrets. It’s because of that I want to believe she wouldn’t immediately turn around and stab me in the back and spill my secrets to Fawley.”

“Maybe she didn’t have a choice?” Daphne suggested.

“What?”

“I think you’re being overly optimistic,” the curious girl confidently countered, “So I’m trying to compensate by being extra cynical. What if Fawley knew about the mole and Rowle’s trading her information to ensure it stays quiet? There’s your motive.”

You remembered how absolutely frantic Rowle had been to keep her secret. It was why she hadn’t sought medical attention for her blemish. If she was that desperate, she might’ve thought she had no other choice.

Tracey jumped in, “The quiet girl reading in the corner of the common room… observing everyone, but observed by practically no one. There’s your means. People talk freely when they don’t realise you’re there. Being a half-blood in Slytherin… I get that a lot.”

The conversation you had with the three fifth years in the Owlery about girls from the Sacred families wanting to snog a Parselmouth rang through your mind.

“You want to snog me?” you questioned.

“You’d be hard pressed to find a Slytherin pureblood girl who hasn’t thought about it,” Lysandra replied. “Parseltongue isn’t feared by the traditional families. In fact it's revered. I’d wager Greengrass, Parkinson, and Bulstrode have all whispered about it at least a dozen times.”

“I overheard Miranda Rosier mentioning it in the common room just last night,” Evanora supplied.

You rubbed the back of your neck, “Er… who’s Miranda Rosier?”

“Third year,” Gemma answered, “Light brown hair down to about here. It was after you came back from Quidditch practice. Even Bletchley was aware of how much better than him you’ve been performing. He was expressing his concerns over Flint potentially giving you his spot as Starting Keeper. Miranda happily offered to distract you for him. According to Nora, she said something along the lines of ‘you get to keep playing Keeper… and I get to regularly snog a Parselmouth’. Not sure where she stands on the ‘who poisoned Bletchley’ issue yet but, just to be safe, keep an eye out for her in May when Bletchley tries to get his spot back for the match against Hufflepuff.”

In that instance, ROWLE was the informant. The information she passed on to Gemma about Miranda Rosier and Miles Bletchley had been highly detailed observations. She could have just as easily passed other keen observations about you off to Fawley.

Daphne stepped closer, her eyes extra wide as she stared directly into yours. It seemed she was on a roll. “Here’s the question you should be asking yourself: Is Evanora the mole?”

You blinked. Not a spy. Not a rat. A MOLE.

Daphne looked over at Tracey, “Jinkies?” Her tone silently asked if she was using Velma’s catchphrase correctly.

“Jinkies,” the Scooby-Doo fan confirmed with a nod.

This didn’t carry the same feel good energy of Mystery Inc unmasking a monster and solving a mystery. A bitter feeling came with this revelation that reminded you of how you felt when you learned that Gemma was behind Bletchley’s poisoning. “Could it be that obvious?”

“You said yourself, Yaxley is obvious,” Tracey provided her perspective, “Rowle’s mole is a secret clue that you discovered due to your unique situational knowledge. Only a handful of people know about it.”

“It’s gone! It’s really gone! You actually did it! You bloody genius!” You remembered Nora gushing and peppering your face with kisses after your potion worked.

“Damn,” you said with a sigh of disappointment. “Any chance we’re completely off, and it turns out Fawley’s an owl Animagus and she was the little birdie who overheard everything in the Owlery? Instead of Rowle, it was actually Artemis all along… and intentionally revealing the ‘little birdie’ was a way to stir the pot, sow some seeds of distrust for people in Slytherin, and mess with my head going into the match?”

“That’s certainly a much less simple solution,” Daphne stated, “Conebush and Persimmons dealt with a criminal Animagus in one of their mystery novels. A wealthy family had been repeatedly robbed, things had been going missing from their mansion for years, but most recently some important family heirlooms vanished. All the evidence pointed towards the family’s live-in butler as the guilty culprit. Especially when they found the missing jewelry and heirlooms in his room. But it was after the butler had been arrested that Detective Conebush realised the mystery had been too simple and the clues were too easy to find. The butler was the simple solution. They reopened the investigation and went back to the mansion and eventually discovered that the family cat was a wizard in disguise and that he was the real thief and had framed the butler. When the cat-wizard was sentenced, the theft was downplayed in favor of being an illegal, unregistered Animagus.”

“Doesn’t that prove my point?” you countered, “In this case, Evanora being the mole is the simple solution. The more abstract theory of Artemis being an Animagus is the complicated one. Fowl-ley, like a bird. And you know the Greek myths, Artemis is the goddess of wisdom and the hunt… wouldn’t that fit an owl?”

“But there’s no evidence to support your farfetched owl theory,” Daphne argued, still calm and cool as a cucumber. “It’s a wild, baseless hunch because you don’t want Rowle to be the guilty party. And here’s my logic against your theory: the point of my story about Conebush and Persimmons catching the Cat-Burglar was that being an illegal unregistered Animagus is a crime worthy of an Azkaban sentence. If Artemis Fawley was an illegal Animagus, that would be a secret she’d be actively trying to keep. Like your magic eyes. She wouldn’t risk giving herself away to a suspicious first year in a rival house. She’d lose much more than she could gain by revealing herself.”

She had a point. And then her partner-in-crime chimed in with her own perspective.

“There’s a saying in the muggle world that’s associated with medical mysteries…” Tracey said, “When you hear hoofbeats expect horses before zebras. I guess with magic it would be unicorns instead of zebras. In the medical field, oftentimes the more common solution is the answer rather than the overly complicated one. What’s more likely? Artemis Fawley being a secret owl Animagus and using her powers to hide in the Owlery and eavesdrop on others… or Evanora Rowle eavesdropping in the common room and passing on what she overheard?” Rowle was already a known spy. Fawley might look like a barn owl, but Daphne proved why you were the last person she’d ever reveal a secret Animagus ability to. “By your own admission, she’s the one who switched the goblets and poisoned Bletchley, so you know she’s not innocent. Do you really think we’re wrong or do you just hope we are?”

“The second one,” you admitted, “I’m remembering how grateful she was to be rid of that blemish. And even before that, she’s always been nice to me.”

Daphne shook her head, “You’re the Prince of the Purebloods and a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. Every Slytherin pureblood from the traditional families is going to be nice to you until you give them a reason not to be. Don’t let a personal bias cloud your judgement. You need to think about it objectively… this is what she’s passed on about you after only knowing you for a few months. Consider how long she might’ve been spying for and think of how much more information she’s traded. If there’s a mole in Slytherin… then someone needs to stop her. I have my own secrets that I don’t want shared and I’m sure I’m not the only one.” Daphne spent so much time prying into your secrets, you hadn’t stopped enough to consider what other secrets she could be hiding. Was ‘Dirty Daphne’ as deep as hers went? Or were there more? “If she likes you enough to hump your leg in a broom closet… then you’re in the best position to get a proper confession out of her and to make her stop spying. Remember who else she’s very close to that might take personal issue with her being a rat for the Ravenclaws.”

Gemma. The Poisoned Prefect would be furious to learn that one of her cousin stabbed her in the back and sold her out to one of her most notable enemies.

Still swelling with calm confidence, Daphne nodded with resolve, “You confronting her over her mole status would be a mercy compared to whatever Farley might do to her. Because if you don’t do something… that’s likely how the story ends. It’s not a happy ending for either of them.”

“I could use the pretense of conducting a follow-up exam on my potion as a reason to get her alone,” you reasoned, “Then I can confront her in private with our grounded hunch and figure out if we’re right or not.”

“Sounds like our Freddie is setting a trap for that mole,” Tracey remarked with an amused grin, “Do you see how much easier mystery solving is when you share your information and collaborate with the rest of Mystery Inc?”

It wasn’t lost on you that this was the third time in forty-eight hours that Daphne and Tracey helped you discover an older girl’s manipulations. You appreciated being part of this ‘Mystery Inc’ trio… a genuine TEAM of meddling kids who looked out for each other, brainstormed together, and solved mysteries. And having the alternate perspective of two girls when you were going up against manipulative older girls had proven to be extremely useful in detecting their schemes.

You nodded, “I’ll admit my situational knowledge, your insight, and her cynicism made for a good combination. But I’ll need to pull a Shaggy and eat something first, because I can’t confront a mole, meet Lucius Malfoy, or play in an important Quidditch match on an empty stomach.”

“Solving mysteries while high on one of your confidence snogs is terrific,” Daphne informed you, “I’m calm enough to think clearly and logically… and I’m confident enough to voice my cynical theories even if they might be unpleasant to hear.” She frowned, “Can I have another?”

“I’ll gladly give you a normal snog,” you said, “But I think we should wait and see how long it takes for you to come down from the first confidence boost. This is still experimental and I don’t want you to overdose on confidence. Given how flirty you were after your first exposure, an excess of overconfidence could result in you being the one streaking the Great Hall. And as much as I’d like to see that, both you and Tracey would be mad at me for allowing it to happen. If it turns out you’re right about Rowle… I’ll give you another special snog.”

“That’s why I wanted another…” Daphne confessed, “I have an even darker cynical take that I think is worth mentioning.” She signed and took a deep breath as she drew on her boosted confidence, “I guess I’ll just do it… there’s a chance Rowle’s ironic mole wasn’t… or isn’t… a coincidence.”

Your empty stomach sank, “You mean… someone caught on and cursed her?”

Gemma? No. She would do something much more horrible if she suspected her second cousin had betrayed her and was spying on behalf of her Ravenclaw rival.

Daphne nodded, her expression grim as she averted her eyes to look down at your Omnis hanging from her neck. Was her confidence boost fading already? Or was this a sensitive subject? “I know a thing or two about curses. They can’t be broken unless you know the exact nature of the spell.” You remembered how Rowle’s mole resisted all the other potions she and Yaxley used to try and remove it. “The blemish may be gone… but if it’s a curse mark then it could come back. Maybe the curse is contingent on her being a mole? And if you get her to stop… you’ll break the curse? Maybe it’s something else entirely? Unless they’re specifically dispelled, curses can exist for years. Generations, even.”

“…” Tracey was staring at Daphne in open-mouthed shock. Admittedly, it was a dark, cynical, and highly controversial take on the mole problem.

Daphne looked back up at you, “I don’t want you to be publicly embarrassed and have someone claim your mole potion is a failure when it was going up against a cursed mark rather than a normal mole, which is why you should confront her as soon as possible. If you care for Rowle at all - and I’m thinking you do, given how you resisted the idea of her being the mole in the first place - then you’ll want to learn the backstory behind her potentially cursed mole and know what you’re dealing with. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’ve jumped to too many conclusions. But what if I’m not? The last thing either of you wants is for that mole to reappear.”

If Nora’s mole was an ironic curse rather than an embarrassing blemish… then there was no one else she could go to. Gemma and Lysandra were her usual co-conspirators, but they’d turn against her if they learned she was a spy. Telling them that her mole was a curse mark would shine more light on her clandestine activities. If a first year like Daphne could piece things together from knowing both of Rowle’s big secrets, then the two fifth years who knew the girl better than anyone could piece things together too. Naughty Nora would be in BIG trouble.

Horrible things happened to spies who got caught. As annoyed as you were at Evanora for potentially being the one to pass off your secrets to rival Ravenclaws… the thought of what might happen to her if someone else caught her turned your empty stomach.

If she was the mole, then you needed to confront her, confirm it, and put a stop to it before someone got hurt.

Daphne pushed herself up onto her toes and kissed your forehead, “I’m sure you’ll do the right thing, my diamond.”

You exited the broom closet in a much better place than when you entered it. Being honest and sharing your information with minimal prompting had worked out for the best. You felt like you and your two companions had all gotten to know each other better.

Daphne, now back to the practiced pureblood princess she was expected to be in public, still wore your Omnioculars around her neck as she hugged your arm and smiled warmly and confidently while prepared to make a bold statement to the rest of the school by entering the Great Hall together.

“Oh, sure, make Tracey carry the perverted box of knickers,” Tracey griped as she walked on Daphne’s other side with the incentive box dangling from her hand by the ribbon. “If I didn’t ship Daphne and Freddie, I’d be annoyed.”

It was shaping up to be a long, eventful day… but at least you had some new friends to help you through it.