Harry looked at her in concern. She might be his first friend – he wasn't quite so ignorant as to not realise that much – it was the why that drove him mad... She seemed smart, and rarely thought about his scar, at least that he could see, and made an effort not to stare at his forehead.
"You're distracted and not focusing on the spell. You're thinking of the end result without picturing it changing." He thought she was going to snap at him for a second. She instead took a deep breath and pointed her wand at the stick, waving it in the prescribed motions. The transfiguration sort of worked, and Daphne squealed excitedly. It was certainly better than Hermione's transfiguration earlier.
"It's better than Grangers," she whooped, as if in agreement.
But Granger did it partially yesterday.
Harry didn't say it. Hermione Granger annoyed Daphne as much as she did Harry.
Harry picked up the match and inspected it. The shape hadn't changed all that much, but it was definitely metal. It wasn't as accomplished as his own, but it was good. He set it back down.
"Finish it. Focus on narrowing the end and putting a small hole for a string." She looked at him. She had already been pulling out another matchstick from a box.
"Or start from scratch," he said quickly, not wanting to actually tell her what to do. She giggled at his behavior and Harry felt certain that he made a mistake.
She's laughing at me.
She finished her metal match before starting on a new one.
"Do you miss your home?" He asked her, he wanted to try and help, even if he was worried endlessly about making a faux pas.
She nodded. "I write to my sister and mother, but it's not the same as actually talking with them. They're family, you know?" She immediately looked horrified as the words left her mouth and winced, pre-empting his reaction.
He laughed openly though, an actual laugh. He shook his head. "No, I can't say I do." He was still smiling, and could feel the relief radiate off her.
Acting normal around Daphne got easier, and he managed to have many conversations with her friend Tracey. She talked a lot, and very quickly. A conversation with Tracey was fairly easy. You just had to ask her for her opinions about some class or well-known painting in the castle and she was off, holding the conversation all on her own.
"Are you looking forward to the flying lessons later?" He asked as the three of them walked to lunch.
Tracey grinned.
"Quidditch isn't for me, but sometimes flying on training brooms was fun. I had several as a I child. I had to give them up because eventually they started to misbehave, you know? The charms on them would go all fuzzy. I used to chase them around the house because I swear they started trying to avoid me-"
He caught an image of a broom spiriting out of a closet, just out of the reach of two hands. He chuckled softly at the foreign memory. He was getting better. He used to only get a single image for a memory, like a snapshot. Now he got three or four, although it only happened for strong memories. Enough to create motion, like a movie, if only barely. Two frames of a girl's arms frantically grabbing for a small broom, if that. Something between moments which helped him know what he was seeing, though it wasn't exactly an image.
"-It was probably because I crashed so much. I don't think they liked it when I flew them, but I can't be too sure. You don't think we'll be hurt, do you?"
Harry doubted it, but he had practiced the episky spell on himself nevertheless. Daphne hadn't been happy when she saw him cut the back of his hand to practice, but had relaxed slightly once he explained himself. Healing spells had always been high on his list. They were simply useful to know.
"-Do you think the brooms here have personality, like mine? The school brooms are supposed to be fairly odd, but I don't know how enchanted objects do that. Have you noticed how the armor suits moves all the time? How do you think that happens? There isn't, like, a brain or anything in them. So how do they think? Or, how could my brooms see me coming!? They didn't have eyes!"
He knew Daphne was thankful that he didn't mind Tracey's talkativeness. Why should he care? He was just glad he wasn't really expected to answer. He no longer panicked when someone would talk to him, and articulating himself, as well as responding to others, was getting easier every day. Although, his heart still jumped into his throat whenever Daphne would suddenly sit down next to him in the library, or when Tracey would stop talking to him and expect a response, blinking at him with big eyes…like she was doing right now.
"We could ask Flitwick about it, he would know."
He knew it would upset her if she thought he hadn't been listening, even if she sometimes berated herself about talking so much.
"I suppose that's a good idea." She mused absently. "Did you know he is supposed to be part goblin?" He did; she had already told him that twice, and that was just today. He nodded back all the same. She and Daphne split off from him to go to the Slytherin table while he came in and sat next near to Su Li, still at a respectful distance.
She smiled at him, waving shyly, and he smiled back in greeting.
"Hello Harry."
"Hey Su." He was close to his housemates, or closer to them than he had ever been to another group of people besides Daphne and Tracey. She turned back to her lunch and he prepared a plate.
Lunch was delicious as always.
After lunch it was time for the flying lesson. Everyone was losing their minds about it. Or seemed to be. Harry had read a little about the sport so he knew the basic rules. Though, he couldn't quite remember if the snitch was worth a hundred and twenty points or a hundred and fifty. Or maybe just a hundred.
Alright, so he didn't know much, but he knew the balls and some basic rules. That had to count, right?