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Like Fire and Moonlight - Chapter 7: The Pumpkins of Hogsmeade
🕑 Added 2025-05-12 13:05:01 +0000 UTCHarry didn’t know exactly why, but Halloween always brought him a nagging feeling, as if something bad were about to happen. Maybe it was the gloomy atmosphere that took over Hogwarts during that time of year—the shadows stretching down the corridors, the hollow suits of armor seeming to whisper ancient secrets, and the cold wind howling against the castle windows as if the stone itself were mourning something long forgotten.
In any case, he knew this day would be different. It was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year—and his first as Head Boy.
He walked through the nearly deserted corridors of Hogwarts, the torches on the walls casting faint light over the old stones as his footsteps echoed softly across the cold floor. He wasn’t at all in the mood to face the commotion of the Great Hall at breakfast. Ever since the match against Hufflepuff about a week ago, Romilda Vane seemed to be everywhere at once, her dark eyes always following him with an uncomfortable intensity that made him feel like a trapped animal.
To his complete despair, she seemed to have decided that, since they’d ended up together after the party, he was now her boyfriend—and frankly, that bothered him more than he cared to admit. He kept glancing over his shoulder as he walked, as if expecting her to jump out from some dark corner at any moment, her black hair flying and his name on her lips like a curse.
And then, there was Daphne.
Harry couldn’t understand what had changed between them in the past week, but since that encounter in the locker room, she seemed to have become a quieter, more distant version of herself. The barbs that usually punctuated their conversations had all but disappeared, replaced by a restrained formality that made him uneasy. Not that he didn’t appreciate the lack of snark—but the silence that had settled between them was somehow even more unsettling.
He turned a corner and stopped abruptly, his feet slipping slightly on the cold stone as he realized someone was approaching from the opposite direction.
And, to his complete surprise, it was Daphne.
She stopped short when she saw him, her eyes widening for a brief second before narrowing slightly, as if already bracing for an argument. She looked especially beautiful that morning, her blonde hair falling loosely over her shoulders, her blue eyes gleaming in the soft light filtering through the corridor’s narrow windows.
Harry forced himself to take a deep breath, his fingers tightening slightly around the handle of his wand inside his robe pocket as he tried to summon a casual smile.
“Morning,” he said, his voice coming out raspier than expected, like he was trying to cover up a nervousness he couldn’t quite explain.
Daphne blinked quickly, her gaze still fixed on him as one eyebrow arched in that familiar expression—a mix of curiosity and irritation that seemed to be her trademark.
“Potter,” she replied, her voice cool and controlled, but not as sharp as he’d expected. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
Harry shrugged, stepping a little closer as he tried to appear more confident than he felt.
“Just thought I’d grab breakfast in the kitchens,” he said, his eyes scanning her face for any change in expression that might give him a clue about what was going on in her head. “Not in the mood to deal with the Great Hall today.”
Daphne watched him for a few more seconds before letting out a soft sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she shook her head in a resigned gesture.
“You and me both, Potter,” she said at last, her lips curling into a half-smile that vanished almost as soon as it appeared. “Let’s go.”
She turned quickly, her steps light and sure as she started down the corridor toward the kitchens. Harry hesitated for a second before hurrying to catch up, his eyes still fixed on her back, watching her blonde hair sway gently with each movement.
They walked in silence through the empty corridors, their footsteps echoing softly off the stone as the familiar scent of fresh bread and baked fruit began to fill the air the closer they got to the kitchens.
Daphne stopped in front of a large tapestry depicting a bowl of dancing fruit and reached out to tickle the pear, which let out a high-pitched giggle before turning into a gleaming doorknob. She pushed the door firmly, her eyes flicking briefly to Harry before disappearing inside.
Harry followed her, feeling the familiar warmth of the Hogwarts kitchens wrap around him as house-elves bustled around, their small hands carrying trays of freshly baked bread, glasses of juice, and platters of fruit that looked like they’d just been picked.
They settled at a table near the fireplace, Harry’s eyes still darting between the elves who hurried to serve them, their small, wrinkled faces stretching into wide smiles as they placed the food before them.
Daphne picked up a steaming cup of coffee, her long, delicate fingers wrapping firmly around the handle as she blew gently on the liquid before taking the first sip.
Harry grabbed a slice of buttered bread, his eyes still on her face as he tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound completely stupid.
“So,” he began, his voice coming out quieter than expected, “excited for the Hogsmeade trip?”
Daphne blinked quickly, her gaze meeting his for a brief second before drifting back to the cup in her hands, her lips curling into an expression that looked like half a smile, half a smirk.
“More or less,” she finally replied, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at him over the rim of her cup. “It’ll be interesting to see how you handle the responsibility of being Head Boy outside the castle.”
Harry laughed, his shoulders relaxing a little as he leaned back in his chair, still holding the slice of bread.
“I’ll survive,” he murmured, his eyes still on hers as the fire’s warmth began to spread across his face. “But honestly, I just hope Romilda doesn’t follow me there.”
Daphne raised an eyebrow, her eyes lighting up with what looked like amusement.
“Oh,” she said, her lips curving into a smile he couldn’t quite read, “sounds like someone’s having trouble dealing with the consequences of their actions.”
Harry huffed, rolling his eyes slightly as he tried not to think too hard about what that meant.
Harry swallowed the piece of bread he had been chewing, his eyes still fixed on Daphne as he tried to decipher what was going on in her head. There was something different about her expression, as if she was about to say something important but was forcing herself to maintain the cold composure that seemed to be her trademark.
He leaned slightly forward, his elbows resting on the table as he picked up a cup of tea that one of the house-elves had placed in front of him.
"Where did this come from, Greengrass?" he asked, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "You seem especially upset with me today."
Daphne hesitated, her blue eyes quickly flicking to his before she looked away again, her fingers tightening slightly around the porcelain handle of her cup.
"I'm not upset," she replied, her voice low and controlled, but with a lightness that sounded almost forced. "Just... curious."
Harry furrowed his brow, his lips curving slightly as he took a sip of the tea, the warm liquid slowly sliding down his throat as he tried to make sense of her words.
"Curious?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her face. "About what?"
Daphne sighed, her shoulders dropping slightly as she finally set her cup down on the table, her eyes still avoiding his as her fingers traced slow circles on the edge of the saucer.
"About your... sudden change," she finally said, her eyes lifting to meet his, her expression becoming more intense as she watched him carefully. "You seemed... different last week."
Harry blinked, his eyes quickly scanning her face as he tried to understand where she was going with this. He couldn’t remember anything out of the ordinary—apart from a few embarrassing comments he had made while drunk after the party. But honestly, he couldn’t recall anything that would explain the mildly suspicious look Daphne was now giving him.
"Different how?" he asked, his lips curling into a slight half-smile that he hoped appeared carefree.
Daphne narrowed her eyes, her fingers still tracing circles on the saucer as she leaned slightly forward, her blonde hair falling to the side as she watched him closely.
"You don’t remember?" she asked, her voice low but with an intensity that sent shivers down Harry's spine.
He blinked again, his heart beating slightly faster as her eyes locked with his, their intensity far more than he had expected.
"What am I supposed to remember?" he asked, his voice dropping slightly, as if he were stepping into dangerous territory.
Daphne let out a slow breath, her eyes narrowing even further as she observed him, as if trying to decide whether he was being sincere or just pretending ignorance to irritate her.
"What you said to me," she finally replied, her lips pressing together slightly as her eyes quickly shifted to the cup she was still holding.
Harry felt his heart jump in his chest, his muscles tightening as he tried to recall some lost memory that would justify the enigmatic expression on her face.
"I..." he hesitated, his eyes scanning her face quickly as he tried to find a clue, some hint of what he had said while drunk. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Daphne laughed, the sound low and almost bitter as she leaned back slightly in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest while her eyes narrowed into an expression that bordered on frustration.
"Of course not," she said, her lips curving into a slight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "You really are unbelievable, Potter."
Harry blinked quickly, his fingers still tightening around the cup as he felt the heat from the fireplace intensify slightly, as if the fire were reacting to the tension that now hung between them.
"If I said anything..." he began, his eyes moving quickly across her face as he tried to find the right words. "I... don’t remember."
Daphne sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as she picked up her cup again, her fingers tightening gently around the handle as she averted her gaze from his, her face adopting an expression he couldn’t interpret.
"Of course you don’t remember," she murmured, her voice lower now, but with a hint of bitterness that caught him off guard.
She took a sip of the coffee, her eyes still fixed on the table as the silence settled between them, the house-elves moving quickly around them, their small, light feet softly tapping against the stone floor as they were both caught in an uncomfortable silence.
Harry leaned slightly forward, his eyes still fixed on her face as he tried to understand what had just happened.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember.
And somehow, that seemed worse than anything he could have said.
~HP~
Even though winter hadn't fully arrived yet, the air in Hogsmeade already had that sharp, biting chill that announced the approach of snowstorms. The carriages stopped with a light jolt on the cobblestone path that led to the center of the village, the wheels producing a hollow sound as the students began to disembark, their cloaks swaying in the wind and their faces lit by the excitement of the first trip of the year.
Harry stepped out of the carriage he shared with Ron and Hermione, his feet making a faint creaking sound as they touched the damp stones that still held the morning dew. He adjusted the leather jacket Sirius had given him, his fingers quickly sliding over the soft fabric as he tried to shake off the cold that was starting to seep into his bones.
The village was decorated for Halloween, and Harry couldn’t help but smile as he saw the floating pumpkins making faces every time someone passed by, their carved eyes glowing with an orange light that seemed almost alive. There were also enchanted bats flying back and forth, their wings making a low, constant sound that mixed with the murmur of conversations and laughter from the students who quickly spread out through the narrow streets.
He turned to Ron and Hermione, his eyes quickly moving between the smiling faces of his friends as he tried to appear more excited than he truly felt.
"Shall we meet up later?" he asked, his lips curling into a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Hermione nodded, her brown curls swaying gently as she pulled Ron by the arm, her brown eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"We’ll be at the Three Broomsticks," she said, her lips curving into a smile that seemed to know more than it let on. "Try not to get into trouble before then."
Harry scoffed, his eyes rolling slightly as he watched them walk away, their heads leaning close together as they murmured something he couldn’t hear, but from the glint in Ron’s eyes, he knew it was probably a joke at his expense.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned toward the Three Broomsticks, his steps echoing softly on the stones as he passed a few familiar faces—residents of Hogsmeade he had encountered several times during his previous clandestine visits.
His father and Sirius had been particularly generous in showing him all the secret passages leading out of the castle, and he found himself smiling faintly as he remembered how it felt to escape to the village to have a butterbeer or buy some sweets at Honeydukes.
He stopped near the entrance to the Three Broomsticks, his eyes quickly scanning the crowd that was beginning to form in the narrow streets, the students laughing and shouting at each other as they spread out through the shops and pubs that lined the village.
And then he saw her.
Daphne was leaning against one of the walls of the Three Broomsticks, her arms crossed over her chest and her blue eyes fixed on the crowd passing in front of her, her face slightly tilted to the side as her blonde hair swayed gently in the wind. She was wearing a simple yet elegant black cloak that highlighted her clear eyes and delicate features, and Harry found himself hesitating for a brief moment before finally approaching.
"You're on time, Potter," she said as he neared, her eyes quickly flicking to his before narrowing slightly, as if she was trying to gauge his mood. "What happened? Did the bump on the head change something?"
Harry smiled, his lips curling slightly as he felt his heart beat a little faster, the sound of footsteps and laughter around him seeming to fade for a moment as he focused solely on her.
"Your lack of faith in me moves me, Greengrass," he replied, his voice coming out slightly rougher than he had expected.
To his complete surprise, she blinked quickly and smiled—a real smile, though brief—that made something warm stir in Harry's chest, as if the chill of Hogsmeade had disappeared for a second.
"Don't make me regret complimenting your punctuality," she said, her eyes quickly scanning the faces of the passing students before returning to his. "We have the first round to do, and I'd prefer not to have to rescue some idiot student who decided to venture into the Forbidden Forest."
Harry nodded, his fingers still lightly gripping the sleeves of his jacket as he tried to look more confident than he felt.
"Good choice," he said, his voice a little lower as his eyes quickly moved over her face, trying to catch some sign of what was going on in her mind. "We could start with the road leading to the Shrieking Shack and then check the alleys in Hogsmeade. You never know what those students are capable of."
Daphne nodded, her lips curving slightly in a gesture that wasn’t quite a smile, but for Harry, seemed almost as rare as one.
"Sounds like a good plan," she said, her eyes quickly moving to his before she turned, her blonde hair swaying gently as she began to walk away toward the road that led to the Shrieking Shack.
Harry followed her, his steps echoing softly on the stones as the cold wind blew against their faces, the enchanted bats passing quickly overhead as they moved through the decorated streets of Hogsmeade.
He forced himself to take a deep breath, his lungs filling with the cold, sharp air as he tried to push away the thoughts that kept creeping into his mind.
~HP~
The patrol had been relatively quiet. The sound of dry leaves crunching under their feet was the only noise breaking the silence as they moved away from the bustling center of Hogsmeade, the lights of the shops and pubs now just bright spots in the distance.
They had only needed to intervene once – when a Gryffindor student tried to prank a first-year Slytherin, something that quickly turned into a sharp sermon from Daphne, which even made Harry shrink slightly as he listened to her colleague’s sharp words.
After that, the path had been mostly free of incidents, with the few students they crossed paths with quickly stepping aside as soon as they noticed the badges of prefects gleaming on their chests.
They were approaching the Shrieking Shack – the old, haunted structure rising on top of the hill like a forgotten sentinel – when a light rain began to fall, the first drops quickly turning into a cold mist that hung in the air like a translucent curtain.
Daphne shivered slightly as she felt the first drops wet her blonde hair, her arms instinctively pulling tighter across her chest as her steps quickened, her eyes scanning the muddy path ahead.
Harry noticed the gesture and, without thinking twice, slid Sirius’s leather jacket from his shoulders, extending it over hers with a quick movement that completely surprised her.
She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening slightly as she felt the weight of the jacket on her shoulders, the leather still warm from his body heat. She slowly turned, her blue eyes narrowing slightly as she watched him with a mix of surprise and distrust.
“I can take care of myself, Potter,” she said, her voice low but carrying the same firmness he had grown accustomed to hearing.
Harry shrugged, his lips curving into a half-smile as his eyes quickly moved over the delicate features of her face, now partially hidden by the shadows stretching across the hill.
“I know that,” he replied, his shoulders shrugging slightly as he felt the first raindrops wet his own head, his hair quickly sticking to his forehead. “But we don’t want anyone getting sick here, do we?”
Daphne blinked quickly, her eyes moving rapidly over his as her hand tightened slightly around the collar of the jacket now resting on her shoulders. She seemed about to argue but, to Harry’s surprise, simply sighed and turned back, her steps quickening as the sound of the rain began to intensify around them.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, the stones on the path now slippery under their feet as the rain turned into a steady drizzle that started soaking their clothes and cooling the air around them even more.
When they reached a small path leading to a group of trees near the Shrieking Shack’s fence, Harry frowned as he noticed a slight movement between the shadows. He narrowed his eyes, his fingers instinctively moving to the inner pocket of his cloak where he kept his wand.
Daphne seemed to notice the same thing, her eyes narrowing slightly as she moved closer to the point where the trail split into two narrow paths that disappeared into the trees.
They stopped upon seeing two third-year students standing near one of the trees, their bodies pressed together as their lips moved frantically in a kiss that seemed to be quickly turning into something more intense.
Harry rolled his eyes, his lips curving slightly into an ironic smile as he approached slowly, his steps light and silent as the two students had yet to notice their presence.
“As much as I’ve done this a dozen times,” he murmured to himself, his lips curving even further as he leaned in closer, his voice low but firm enough to be heard by the couple. “What do you think you’re doing here?”
The two students pulled apart so quickly that they almost collided with the tree trunk, their faces flushing violently as their eyes widened slightly upon noticing the badges gleaming on Harry and Daphne’s chests.
“We... we were just...” the boy began, his voice trembling as his fingers nervously moved to adjust the collar of his cloak, which now seemed too tight around his neck.
“You can do whatever you want,” Harry said, his lips curling slightly into a smile that wasn’t exactly comforting but clearly aimed at easing the two students’ embarrassment. “But do it on the main road or in the village. Now, back to the village.”
The two students exchanged a quick glance before turning and running back toward the main path, their feet slipping slightly in the mud as the rain continued to fall around them, their clothes quickly soaking through as they disappeared into the shadows of the trees.
Harry watched them disappear, his lips still curled in an amused smile as he listened to the sound of hurried footsteps and embarrassed murmurs fading into the distance. He turned to Daphne, his eyes slightly gleaming as he watched her sigh and shake her head in a gesture that seemed to be half frustration, half amusement.
“What’s up?” he asked, his lips still curved in a smile as his eyes quickly moved over her face, trying to decipher the expression he couldn’t quite interpret.
Daphne hesitated for a second, her eyes moving quickly to his before turning away again toward the rusted gate leading to the Shrieking Shack, her fingers still lightly gripping the collar of the jacket she wore.
“What made you change?” she finally asked, her voice low, but with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stand up.
Harry blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to understand what she meant.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly as his eyes quickly moved over her face, trying to catch any sign of what was going on in her mind.
“You’re more mature, less irresponsible,” she said, her lips pressing slightly together as her eyes moved quickly over his, as though she were trying to find some clue to the answer she was seeking. “I just wanted to know why.”
Harry chuckled softly, his shoulders slightly slumping as he felt the rain continue to fall around him, the drops slowly sliding down his face as he tried to find the right words.
“I’ve always been like this,” he finally replied, his lips curling slightly as he watched her more closely. “You just never had time to get to know me. You always preferred to attack me before anything else.”
Daphne blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she seemed to reflect on his words.
“I can find several inconsistencies in that,” she murmured, but her lips curved slightly into a smile that Harry almost didn’t catch.
He exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he watched her eyes quickly move to his.
“Can we go to the Three Broomsticks?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly as his eyes locked with hers. “Our patrol ended half an hour ago, and I’m freezing.”
Daphne hesitated for a second before nodding, her eyes still fixed on his as she turned to head back to the main road.
And together, they disappeared into the mist that now enveloped Hogsmeade like a ghostly cloak.
~HP~
The Three Broomsticks was especially lively that Halloween afternoon. The windows were fogged up from the heat of the fireplaces crackling along the walls, and the air was thick with the sweet smell of butterbeer, the scent of enchanted pumpkins floating through the ceiling, and the sound of loud conversations filling every corner of the crowded pub.
Harry and Daphne squeezed through the crowd as they slowly made their way toward a table near the fireplace, their shoulders brushing briefly as they tried to avoid the groups of students gathered around the counters, laughter echoing off the wooden walls as tankards clinked in enthusiastic toasts.
They had run into Ron and Hermione along the way, the two already starting their rounds and waving briefly before getting lost once again in the crowd that moved like a constant tide around them.
When they finally reached the table, Harry quickly recognized the faces waiting for them—Blaise Zabini and Tracey Davis, two of Daphne’s closest friends and members of the small circle that seemed to orbit around her like silent satellites, always present but rarely standing out like Malfoy and his noisy group of followers.
Tracey was the first to notice their approach, her light eyes widening slightly before narrowing into a curious, amused expression that made Harry wonder if she already knew something he didn’t.
“Daphne Greengrass and Harry Potter walking together outside of patrol?” Tracey said, her lips curling into a sarcastic smile as she watched them approach. “Either someone lost a bet, or this is the closest I’ll ever get to world peace.”
Daphne rolled her eyes, her blonde hair swaying slightly as she threw herself into an empty chair next to Tracey, her eyes still quickly scanning her friend’s face as she let out a sigh that seemed to contain a mixture of irritation and amusement.
“Don’t start, Tracey,” she murmured, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gestured for Harry to sit in the empty chair next to her.
Harry hesitated for a brief second before settling into the chair, his fingers still slightly cold as he rubbed them quickly to chase away the chill that seemed to have seeped into his bones during the walk along the rain-soaked road leading to the Shrieking Shack.
Blaise, who had remained silent up until then, finally looked up from the tankard he was holding, his dark eyes slowly moving between Harry and Daphne as an eyebrow arched slightly in an expression bordering on suspicion.
“I didn’t know you two were so... close,” he finally said, his lips curling slightly into a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“And we’re not,” Daphne quickly replied. “I found him lost without his friends and decided to adopt him for a few seconds.”
Harry looked at her incredulously. He didn’t know this side of Daphne.
“Anyway,” Tracey said, turning back to Harry. “How does a lion feel among the snakes? What will people say?”
Harry opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted when a familiar figure quickly approached their table, moving with light, graceful steps while balancing several tankards of butterbeer on a shiny tray that reflected the golden lights of the bar.
Madame Rosmerta stopped beside them, her eyes moving quickly between Harry and Daphne as she placed the tankards on the table with a quick, efficient gesture that clearly demonstrated years of practice.
She furrowed her brow slightly when she noticed the two of them sitting together, her light eyes narrowing slightly as she tilted her head, as if trying to assess the risk of having them at the same table.
“Try not to destroy my bar again,” she said, her lips curling slightly into a smile that seemed half-provocation, half-threat. “This isn’t a dueling gym.”
Harry and Daphne exchanged a brief glance before letting out an involuntary laugh, the sounds blending into a low echo that seemed to resonate across the table as Tracey and Blaise’s eyes moved quickly between the two of them, clearly intrigued by the unexpected reaction.
Harry found himself smiling more than he had expected, his lips still curled as he remembered the incident that had led Madame Rosmerta to banish them from the bar for almost a year.
They had met there by chance, about two years earlier, when Daphne teased him with a biting comment about Gryffindor's score in the House Cup tournament, and Harry, already irritated by a particularly tough week of training and exams, couldn’t hold back and responded with an even sharper taunt.
The words quickly turned into insults, and the insults into shouting, until, in a moment of pure frustration, Daphne cast a non-verbal spell that made Harry's chair slide a few inches backward, almost throwing him to the ground. He, of course, didn’t let it slide, and before they knew it, cups were flying, chairs were moving on their own, and half the bar had turned to watch the scene, their faces lit by a mixture of shock and amusement.
Madame Rosmerta had to intervene personally, her face red with anger as she dragged them out of the bar, her small but firm hands holding their cloaks with surprising strength while pushing them out into the street, her eyes blazing with fury as she banned them from returning for an entire year.
Daphne seemed to remember the same moment, her lips curling slightly into a smile that almost seemed nostalgic as she picked up one of the tankards Rosmerta had left on the table, her long fingers tightening slightly around the handle as she brought the drink to her lips, her eyes still fixed on Harry’s as she took the first sip.
He picked up his own tankard, his fingers still slightly cold as he felt the warmth of the liquid slowly spread through his body, pushing away the chill that still seemed to cling to his bones like a persistent shadow.
They drank in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of conversations and laughter around them filling the space between the unsaid words that seemed to hang over the table, the quick and furtive glances Daphne threw his way as Tracey and Blaise began talking about the rumors circulating about the O.W.L.s and Hogwarts’ new security policies.
Harry leaned slightly back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on Daphne’s face as he tried to decipher the expressions that passed quickly through her eyes, like shadows dancing in the light of the flames crackling in the nearby fireplace.
And for some reason, he couldn’t explain, he felt that this would be a Halloween he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
