Important Disclaimer: This story begins approximately half way through the Order of the Phoenix, albeit with some slight changes in continuity. Harry and Ginny have began dating a year early, something which you will see explained in the context of the story. If an event happened in the film that is not covered in this continuity but is still referenced, presume it still played out identically. This is a romance story between Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass, not a retcon to the entire universe.

And now, presenting…

~ Living Dangerously ~

Daphne Greengrass took no pleasure out of making others dislike her; but it just so happened she was very good at it.

The Slytherin House had a motto it often defined itself by: Proud. Ambitious. Cunning.

These three words were the traits that she made a point to strive towards. While some of her classmates just obnoxiously spewed house pride where ever they could, she put the effort in to earn it. Although everyone in Hogwarts was aware of her birth-name, Daphne was also known by a second, far more common name: the Ice Queen. It was a cliche and inaccurate representation of her, but she'd grown past the point of caring what others thought. She never deliberately intended for her attitude to come across the way it did, but she knew the importance of putting her education before her personal life, and if her classmates interpreted that as her being antisocial, then frankly, they were not her problem. It was her housemates decision to give her that name, but it had been hers to roll with it.

All this being said however, Daphne currently found herself struggling to maintain the Ice Queen persona she'd become well-known for, as her temper flared with a burning passion. Her priority now was remaining calm. She worked hard for a reputation among the professors and wasn't about to run the risk of souring it.

"I won't hear another word of it from either of you! You'll both serve after school detentions with me for the rest of the week."

Today had been a long and arduous day for her, made all the worst by the fact that she had somehow found herself in an argument with her Head of House, Professor Snape.

She had been paired with the Gryffindor Golden Boy, Harry Potter, in today's lesson. Which fair enough, she could handle. She didn't particularly like the boy, but outside from his famed messiah complex, he'd never done anything to her to make her personally dislike him. Unlike most wizards and witches in her house, Daphne attempted to keep above the rivalry Slytherin and Gryffindor shared. She considered herself up-and-coming prodigy and found the whole thing would be beneath her.

But saying this, any suspicions of dislike she had towards him were confirmed.

"Yes, Professor," she mumbled scornfully. "Sorry, Professor."

She'd attend the lessons under silent protest and get them over with. It would interfere with her workout routine, but she digressed.

Now the Potions classroom had emptied, she and Potter stood alone before their teacher. As their potion had gone up in flames it had had released thick fumes into the air, most of which still lingered. Humidity was at a peak, forcing sweat from her brow and several other places.

That was another thing that contributed to the surrender of her argument; she was absolutely boiling and couldn't afford the added stress.

"Sir, why am I here?" A voice said beside her.

Daphne repressed the urge to growl.

"Your idiocy matched Greengrass's," Snape was growing impatient. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

It was clear Potter didn't mind escalating this into something more, which further annoyed her. It made sense he'd feel the need to drag it out, since it was him that caused her to knock a opened full jar of ingredients into their potion in the first place. The last thing she wanted was Umbridge or the Headmaster getting involved, that would really be the final nail in the coffin. She silently willed him to stop talking, just so they could get the lecture over with.

She looked over to the student next to her and like any girl would, briefly examined him. He definitely wasn't bad looking. Daphne didn't believe in dating classmates, much less a snobby Gryffindor, but it didn't mean she couldn't look. It was then that she noticed something; he was redder than a Weasley family reunion. At first she suspected he had caught her wandering eyes, but then she had remembered the humid air around them.

She sniffed loudly.

As another hot wave flushed her, Daphne found herself regretting her wardrobe choice. Her skirt ended just before her knee-length socks began, only allowing the heat to escape through a peep-hole view of her thighs, which was the source of a lot of her over-heating. She took a tremendous amount of pride in herself physically, as well as academically, but now her blonde hair had long since frizzed out and trailed down her back, disregarding the usual rules that long hair was to be tied in a bun during lesson. She looked as much of a mess as she felt.

"Tonight, tomorrow and Friday evenings I expect you both to return to this room for half an hour of detention," Snape scowled. "During that time you will rebrew and complete the potion, and if it's anything less than perfect you'll both fail the unit. You already know where the ingredients are. If you need me, I'll be in the staff room attempting to enjoy the rest of my night... Try not need me. When I return I expect process to have been made, understood?"

The two nodded their heads in unison. As the potions master took his leave, they both deflated.

Potter glanced over to her and forced an awkward smile. When his attempt at peacemaking went unmet, he turned his attention towards their cauldron.

"Right, let's get on with it."

Daphne rolled her eyes and muttered something fowl under her breath. She'd not been around him more than a few minutes and already got the impression he was good for nothing. At least her pride had been earned, not something she'd been wrongfully born with.

Reluctantly, living with her father had given her a high threshold, so she didn't find it difficult to ignore him as they began work. Neither of them wanted to be here, and she was sure one thing they could agree on was they both wanted to get out of here as quickly and as calmly as possible.

A good thing as well, as the temperature in the room was increasing by the minute.

Daphne fanned at her face, her cool exterior betraying nothing of the stressed and annoyed girl underneath. As she stretched out her back, she caught him eyeing her up.

"What?" she asked him.

Potter looked between the cauldron and her.

"Nothing. You going to help?" he asked obnoxiously.

Her immediate response was to grind her teeth together. Apparently, Potter had a mouth on him today. She chewed her lip, and tried to piece together to least problematic response she could muster.

"I was just stretching."

He rolled his eyes, "Okay... just, I'm not doing all the work again."

Daphne's eyebrows snapped up to the ceiling. A flare of temper ignited inside her, and this time she didn't have the self control to ignore it.

"You did nothing today bar making childish faces at Weasel from across the room, do not start with me."

Potter frowned.

"Erm, you literally sat down to rest while we were working?"

"We had finished by that time," she said through her teeth. "And the only reason we finished early was because you had me. In fact, you know what, no," Daphne shook her head.

She was better than this, she wasn't going to get involved with his childishness and risk further detention time. She gritted her teeth and rolled up her sleeves.

"I'll do the brewing, you go get the ingredients. I need the Chizpurfle carapaces first... I think they're under there," she pointed across the room.

Potter stared at her coldly.

"The Chizpurfle carapaces, what?"

Her glare became one to rival a Basilisk. She knew exactly what he was trying to do. She knew, but really couldn't find the effort in herself to argue it.

"Please."

Potter threw her a painfully fake smile and turned on his heels. He moved over to the table cabinet and bent down to rummage in it.

Daphne attempted to divert her eyes, but found them again drawn to the boys figure. The heat must have been really getting to her, it was unlike her to be so crass. She gently tugged free a few buttons of her shirt, fanning herself again.

"Here," he returned, handing her the ingredients. "What else, Professor Greengrass?"

At that moment a hot flush hit Daphne and her mouth spoke before her brain was able to silence it.

"Potter, can we please just get this finished? I don't want to be here anymore than you do!"

The speed her words came out indicated she'd said that all on a single, forced-out breath. Potter had moved back to his side of the cauldron and reluctantly, decided to stay there. The sincerity in her voice must have apparently gotten through to him.

This set off a number of minutes where the two worked together in mostly silence. Not having the stress of Snape watching them or the atmosphere of being in lesson made the two work quicker and smoother, with Daphne giving the demand of what she needed and Potter quickly finding it for her.

Just as they neared the half way point of their brewing, Potter spoke up again.

"I didn't push you earlier by the way. I couldn't squeeze past you."

Daphne scoffed at his words.

"I hardly think you're in any position to be body shaming anyone with that on your forehead."

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance, "I wasn't calling you fat, I meant you were stood in my way. You weren't paying attention."

"Mmhmm. Next time focus less on me and maybe more on the lesson."

He gave her a look Daphne could only guess was disgust and then looked away, blushing. She had officially succeeded in making him uncomfortable. He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, struggling to find his words. He looked at her, back at the cauldron, than back at her. Breaking the exchange, he then returned over to the ingredients stack to await her next order.

Daphne threw him a sneer and leaned in over the cauldron. The fumes hitting her were doing nothing but increasing the sweat already dripping from her brow.

"No apology?"

"Sorry I ever said anything..."

There was a desperation in his voice that pleaded mercy.

Truth be told, Daphne herself didn't know why she was getting so determined to argue, but decided to ride it out.

"Didn't your mother teach you how to treat a lady?"

The second the words left her mouth she realized she should have left it when he asked.

What was she doing, deliberately trying to patronize him? She was absolutely right the first time, neither of them wanted to be there and they should just work together to get it over with. So why in Merlin's name had she just say that? She surprised herself with it, she had a habit of being blunt, but never cruel.

Daphne pulled herself back from the cauldron and turned around, only to find Potter inches away from her face. She recoiled a bit and opened her mouth to apologize.

"I didn-"

"Surprised you have nerve to talk about parents."

There was aggression in his voice.

Daphne furrowed her brow.

"What do you mean?"

"I saw your father there, the night Voldemort returned."

She winced at the name. Her first instinct was to scold him, but she caught the words in her throat. Still reeling from the low blow she'd just dealt him, she decided it was probably best to not push it.

"That isn't true."

"If it's not true, why did I see him there?"

"You didn't."

"Yes I did."

"No, you didn't."

Her voice was getting noticeably quieter. She was on the defensive, not only because he was absolutely right, but because now the roles had reversed and it was her who just wanted to get back on with the lesson.

"You don't even know what he looks like, drop it."

"About 6 foot? Blonde hair? Goatee?" he gestured to his height, hair and face.

A fire suddenly surged through Daphne's veins. The instinct pushed her to lash out, jabbing him in the stomach with both her hands. She attempted to push him a number of feet away from her, but only actually succeeded in giving him a light shove.

"You are making some wild accusations, Potter!" she spat.

"Yeah, and?"

"You shut up about my family!" she snapped. "At least I have one."

Potter had moved in very close when she'd insulted his mother, and as their argument had grown they'd gotten closer still. Daphne now stood with her legs pressed against the cauldron and her back arched to crane over it.

Their legs were intertwined and their noses pressed against each other. Their faces were steaming red with anger, ready to attack. He was way too close for her to be comfortable with. She didn't know if this was some poor attempt at an intimidation, but she didn't care for it.

In a swift movement, she grabbed a handful of his hair and tore it back. Again, her strength failed to override his and she only succeeded in pulling his face a few inches away.

The two locked eyes.

Suddenly, this was no longer an aggressive situation. The world seemed to stand still for a second, in fact. All anger and rage the two shared seemed to drift calmly away. Potter had a color of turquoise-green eyes she'd only ever seen before in her common room, Daphne noticed. If she wasn't mistaken, she could just about make out a golden flame burning inside them.

Like the potion behind the two, there was a sudden hormonal instinct steadily brewing inside them. Their heartbeats had joined in rhythm and became earthquakes around them, and only noise that accompanied the blowing potion was their shared, shallow breaths filled the air.

Daphne's chest was pushed against Potters ribs, and for a split second, his eyes flickered down. An eyeful of the her cleavage through her unbuttoned shirt was enough to activate his beta instincts and make him look away, but his glance hadn't been subtle in this slightest.

Despite her flushing cheeks, Daphne didn't pull away. The look on his face told her he didn't entirely understand what was going on either, but was equally effected by it. It felt like liquid magma was pumping through her veins. They were both trembling with guilty desire.

She drew her other hand up and placed it against his cheek. She hadn't mean to do that, her body had acted on it's own. But was glad she did, as upon contact, a shiver of electric shot over down her spine.

With force, his hand suddenly took her by the waist.

A wave of chills washed over her. She bit her lip, muffling a moan of satisfaction. She'd never been man-handled like that before.

"Potter..." her spoke, her voice barely a whisper. "What're you...?"

No answer came. Just more of the longing, passionate gaze the two held between themselves.

It wasn't enough. She wanted more.

With a wriggle, she pulled herself up so she was sat on the cauldron behind. This relaxed her grip on the back of Potters head and turned it instead into a kind of gentle caressing.

Her legs snaked their way around his waist and tightened. She was pulling him in. She knew she was, and was powerless to stop herself. She didn't want to stop it.

Their faces drew closer.

"Please... don't..." she attempted, doubting even at this close proximity he was able to hear her.

But Potter had heard her, and he'd suddenly ceased his advances. Her body screamed for him to continue, and the grip her thighs had around him suddenly tightened. Her movements instilled a primal-like grunt off him, a noise she'd never imagine a boy like him to make. It did nothing but add further heat to her already glowing face.

Then suddenly it was over.

Potter was then grabbed by the shoulders and torn him viciously from her. Frightened, dazed and confused, he was thrown to the floor and rolled a few times before slamming against the brick work wall.

All feelings of lust and excitement vanished in an instant. She looked to her side, as a thousand realities seemed to hit at once.

The two had been so invested in one-another they hadn't noticed Snape enter the room. The Potions master was looking between the two, mouth hanging agape. In any other situation, seeing him in such a state would likely have been hilarious. He looked like he'd walked in on the middle of a murder.

And maybe in some way, he had done.

The implications of what she had just done descended on her like a train, and her face replaced its look of shock with one of fear.

"Get out of my classroom!" Snape practically yelled.

The two didn't have to be told twice. Daphne scrambled towards the exit with Potter following closely behind.

As the door slammed shut behind, the two didn't so much as stop to acknowledge each other as they ran quickly down opposite directions of the corridor Potter, up to Gryffindor tower, and Daphne, deeper into the dungeons. She didn't stop running until she reached the lowest floor of Hogwarts.

With each step reality had become heavier and heavier on her shoulders. She couldn't begin to describe how she felt. Disgusted. Degraded. Ashamed. Violated.

Daphne almost walked head-first into the stone wall they used as an entrance to the common room.

"Aspin."

It took her two attempts to successfully say the password before the wall was able to be walked through. As it turned transparent, Daphne immediately took off running again; head-first into the group of people she least wanted to see right now.

Pansy and Draco were sat on the sofa and appeared to be deep in conversation. Millicent was hovering lightly around them. It didn't take them long to notice they weren't alone.

"The bloody hell's wrong with you?" Draco asked, though Daphne didn't feel it was out of sincerity.

"Nothing."

She began to shout, but caught herself. She took a breath.

"Just back from my run."

Millicent laughed and moved closer. Daphne instinctively backed up.

"You sure? Look like you've seen a ghost."

Pansy laughed.

"That's a pretty silly expression when you think about it about where we live."

Daphne nodded nervously.

"Mmhmm. I'm going to bed, goodnight."

Her housemates looked at her as though she'd spoken to them in a different language. Before the group had time to react, she moved past them and made her way through to the girls dormitory. She crossed into her private dorm room, crossed the bedroom in four large steps and collapsed face first into her pillow. She didn't bother turning the lights on as she passed them.

What in Merlin's name had just happened?

She couldn't control herself, it was just like something had taken over her. One minute they were arguing, the next minute… If Snape hadn't had interrupted them, Daphne had little to no doubt they'd have gone much further. In that moment she had wanted nothing more than him, all of him. She didn't know why and hadn't questioned it at the time. She'd never been that intimate with anyone before, much less a complete stranger, and even less an ignorant dull-headed Gryffindor! Yet, it felt so right at the time. It was a trance, like she was drunk on him. He was forceful, but she wanted it.

It only lasted for a few seconds, in those seconds the world and its rules had melted away and all she wanted in that moment was him. Just Potter. That had worn off the second Snape had interrupted them, and now she was left to deal with the consequences.

She rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

They hadn't even kissed. It was just heavy petting... It didn't mean anything, but it didn't change that it happened. What if he told somebody? All it would take is him telling one person and it'd be over for her. She could lose everything she'd striven towards because of this. She knew the reality of the situation was rapidly becoming obvious. What happened tonight would be taken to her grave.

Her status in school was unchallenged, she just had to make sure it stayed that way.