Bliss

-I don't own Harry Potter

Daphne Greengrass had been taught three things since she was a child.

First was that muggleborns – "filthy mudbloods" her parents had spat – were second class citizens, and even that was too good for them. The end of You-Know-Who's reign of terror had quashed that belief, at least publically. For Daphne, her parents' words lost meaning in her seventh year. The horrors taking place in Hogwarts, and the rest of the Wizarding World, had been excused with claims of blood purity. Daphne had realised it was just an excuse for the sadists and power hungry to rule. She had looked upon the other students of Hogwarts, upon the members of the Order of the Phoenix, upon Harry Potter and his two best friends, as she was ushered from the Great Hall with the rest of her house and prayed they would win.

The aftermath of the war solidified Daphne's new belief that blood purity was rubbish. Every member of Wizarding England had parts to play in the rebuild. Daphne found herself working with muggleborns, half-bloods and purebloods alike. There was nothing inferior about their magic nor did they love the wizarding world any less than she did. They ignored her knowing she had been a Slytherin. Daphne couldn't find it in herself to hate them for it.

Hermione Granger, however, had smiled at Daphne the first time they met outside of Hogwarts. Daphne's new employer, an old and pureblooded family friend, had sent her to Flourish and Blotts for the fifth time that week. He had a small book hoarding problem, not that Daphne was complaining as he let her read any she took an interest in. Granger – war hero, brains of the Golden Trio, obtainer of the highest NEWT scores since You-Know-Who himself – was working as a shop assistant in the book store. Daphne had expected Granger to be polite, she had not expected her to start chatting as if they were old friends.

The friendship that begun between the two women seemed unlikely on the surface. Granger was brash and bold. Her hair was a mane of wild, brunette curls and her eyes sparkled, even after all she had suffered. Daphne was reserved and elegant. Her hair golden, blonde and restrained by hairpins and spells. Her eyes held the same haunted look seen in many of the faces on the streets. Yet, the mutual love of books united the two and gave way to passionate discussions on magical theory, witty quips and a careful avoidance of the subject of war.

The second thing Daphne had been taught was she could only love a man. She was taught to be chaste and proper until such a time as she was married. It was all fine and dandy for others to love someone of the same gender, but Daphne was a Greengrass. Greengrass's married other purebloods and continued the family lineage.

Thus, it was unsurprising that it was Hermione – Daphne wasn't quite sure when she became Hermione instead of Granger – who summoned the Gryffindor courage to ask the blonde out for a coffee during their break. They didn't go to the newly refurbished Rosa Lee Teabag, the best café in Diagon Alley. Instead Hermione dragged Daphne through the Leaky Cauldron into Muggle London, down three blocks and into a cramped second-hand bookstore. There Daphne discovered the joy of a good cappuccino with an amazing book and even better company.

Hermione sipped her own Hot Chocolate, she didn't say why she disliked coffee, and mentioned that this bookstore was where she came to escape. It was the first time either had mentioned the war. Daphne had slid a bookmark into place, her lip curling at evidence of dog-earing, and gathered the guts to ask what Hermione was escaping from. Her answer had been short and simple, a stark contrast to the elaborate answers she had been so fond of in class.

"Everything. The fame, the glory, the memories."

Daphne had asked no more questions and they passed the rest of the hour lunch break in comfortable silence.

Their next outing followed a much more 'date like' format, or so Hermione informed Daphne. The muggle restaurant was secluded and quiet, Daphne wasn't sure if Hermione knew the trend surrounding her favourite places. The cinema, however, was loud and bright. Hermione laughed at Daphne as she sat entranced by the flurry of images on the screen. She couldn't help but think of the film as a giant wizarding photo (Hermione had made mention that Muggle ones didn't move) with sound.

Hermione had insisted on paying for the entire night. Daphne had bought her a bouquet of flowers delivered to her workplace in return. Hermione had grinned when Daphne next entered the bustling bookstore on her latest errand claiming no one had ever sent her flowers before.

The next two years become the most magical years of Daphne's life. Hermione was like a part of herself she never knew she was missing. A smile was enough to brighten her day and a simple compliment had her grinning like a fool. She was sure there would never be a more perfect sight than the light blush on Hermione's cheeks or a more annoying but perfect sensation than when their hair managed to tie them together.

But the relationship had to be conducted with a certain level of secrecy. Daphne's parents would never forgive for breaking two of their cardinal rules. Hermione's parents didn't seem to care about anything other than their love.e

Daphne met Hermione's parents for the first time at a Christmas gathering. The first conversation had been full of awkward half explanations as her parent's realised that the two were more than friends. Hermione's father had taken Daphne aside the next morning and warned her about hurting his baby girl. It was not a conversation she had ever expected to be a part of.

Hermione's best friends had coughed and spluttered upon learning about the two. Potter didn't understand how Hermione could fall in love with a Slytherin. Hermione had rolled her eyes and sighed, her lips pouting in a way Daphne loved, before she pointed out that they were all adults now so they should really leave school prejudice behind. Ronald Weasley had a more violent reaction, storming out of the diner angrily. His sister, Daphne recalled her name was Ginny, explained that Ron was annoyed as Hermione had told him just ten months earlier that she wasn't ready for a relationship. He'd come around she promised.

Lastly, Daphne had been taught that her parent's word was law. The past six months proved how true this was even as Daphne sought to find her own independence. The scroll that had been passed to her in her father's office by the nephew of her employer might as well have been a death sentence. In a way it was. It meant the end of two years of bliss, of peace, of love. Her parents commanded her to end the relationship she had been hiding from them the moment her new fiancé left the room.

Daphne had fallen into Hermione's soft arms that night. Her composure had prevented her tears. Hermione's pride stayed her own.

Now, the night before her wedding Daphne wished that, as much as Hermione claimed the houses didn't matter, she could be as much of a Gryffindor as the woman sitting cross legged before her. The lioness had offered to burst into the wedding and sweep the bride off her feet. Daphne had declined. Hermione had released her from every shackle of her childhood but one.

"I'm sorry."

Those two words had been passed between the women more times in the past half a year than in the previous two.

"Don't be. We had an amazing time together. I couldn't have asked for a better person to have by my side after the war."

Daphne's eyes lifted from her knees in time to catch the first tear Hermione had shed drop from her chin. Hermione normally wasn't a pretty crier, Daphne knew after the nights they had finally talked about the war in, but right now she was the most beautiful thing Daphne had ever seen.

"I'm going to remember you forever."

Nothing more could be said, all other words would ring hollow. They stood and walked to the door. Daphne looked around the apartment for the last time. It was all memories of a past life. The TV that Hermione had showed her how to use the first time she came over, the jug Hermione had to buy after Daphne had tried to use the previous one on the stove top, the jumbled mess of frames proudly displaying the happiest moments of their life together.

Hermione hugged her pristine counterpart long and hard. Their final kiss had been hours ago, they had stopped being girlfriends then. This was goodbye to a best friend, a companion. She watched as Daphne walked down the steps, blonde hair loose waving her farewell before she disappeared with a tiny pop.

A new weight on her neck caused her to reach for a necklace that had not been brushing her chest just a minute ago. The pendant was a small, plain, silver ring. It was ring that Daphne had worn on her on elegant fingers as a reminder of her grandmother. Her grandma, she had said, was the only person in her family who believed in love almost as much as Dumbledore. It was cheap and nothing special but to Hermione, it meant the world.

A/N: So yeah, you guys might notice a pattern with my work. I write and post when I'm procrastinating. I should be doing an assignment for my media class but I'm a terrible person. Oh well, other than that Uni is great fun. And time consuming, still, for my readers of the Fox and the Blonde, I'll try to channel my procrastination into a new story for you guys too.

This is my first non-het story, like ever, so please don't be mean. I'll always accept constructive criticism though. And yes, I know they aren't the end couple but I dunno, it just seems really kinda sad this way and I kinda like that direction. Because I'm messed up. And I think Wizarding Society is messed up too, so there's that.

Otherwise, please review. They make me happy.

Angelic Reprobate