Disclaimer: All these characters belong to the brilliant, Joanne Kathleen Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I'd be travelling the world right now. I'm merely playing in her sandbox, and do not receive any financial gain from this fanfiction.
Author's Note: I have been a Potterhead for ten years now, and this is my first contribution to this fandom. Ships like Dramione, Hinny, NottGrass and Blaistoria and Bluna have my heart. This NottGrass story is something I have had in my mind for a while now. This is an experiment, but one I sincerely hope Potterheads will enjoy. Please read, vote and review. Without your thoughts, this story is a mere nothing.
Her smile was dangerous.
There was a secret in the corner of the lips, a slight upturn to their plumpness, which suggested she was always a few steps ahead of you. And chances were, she was. She had a quality that not many people possessed anymore. A sort of magnetic pull in the most toxic of ways. One never quite knew what they were getting themselves into with her. She was extreme. When she got into something, she was completely in. It was both the best and worst thing about her.
Daphne Elizabeth Greengrass had the ability to make someone feel like they were the most important person in the whole room, and people would be drawn to her like a moth to the flame. She was that good at managing people. She was an enigma, a mystery – a puzzle everyone strived to solve, but to no avail.
People wanted to be managed by her, too. They'd follow her around wherever she went. She didn't mind, either. She enjoyed the attention. She enjoyed the adoration. She enjoyed being talked about. She flourished in the limelight and wilted in the shadows. These people would do anything to bask in her light for even a brief second – all of which was happening right then.
Annual Yule Ball, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, year 1999.
The Second Wizarding War was over, marking Voldemort's ultimatum – his downfall, in the hands of the famous Harry Potter. Britain was still very much wretched, but with the passage of time, everything was gradually coming back to normal – it was something everyone yearned for, normalcy. That did not even spare Hogwarts' new headmistress, Professor Minerva McGonagall, who arranged an annual ball to celebrate the victory. There was an air of anticipation, after a long period of time. It made the ball a lot livelier than the one they had in their fourth year.
Thousands of white and yellow daffodils peeked out of the staircases heading down to the Great Hall. There were floating candles leading to the entrance and students were starting to make their way inside. The inside of the Great Hall was an astonishing sight. A dozen chandeliers hung low from the faraway ceiling, glittering with bright white candles. The parquet dance floor seemed to stretch on into the next city, and ringing the dance floor were long tables covered in white linen, laid with platters of cakes and cookies, and food of all sort and great crystal goblets filled with pumpkin juice, butterbeer and other drinks. At the back were small, round tables instead of the four long ones for each houses, all set up beautifully. There was a stage up front where a band was setting up instruments to provide entertainment.
Daphne was standing in the center of the room, her head inclined a little and cocked to the left as she looked up at the large faraway ceiling of the Great hall. She wore a gorgeous floor length silver gown, accented with a pair of white elbow length opera gloves. In her hand she held a champagne flute elegantly, though the beverage was seemingly untouched. Her bluish-green eyes were focused on the tree, but the moment someone stepped up beside her, she turned her gaze to them and it was as though she lit up. Her eyes brightened, her smile spread widely and warmly, and her body language echoed some kind of welcome. Terence Higgs, her newest visitor, melted behind her smile.
"Greengrass, eh?" Blaise chimed in, making Theodore's train of thoughts disappear in thin air. Theo glanced at the dark skinned wizard, who was sitting beside him in tight-fitted robes and clutching a half empty glass in his hand. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, deciding to play oblivious to his apparent accusation.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Zabini."
Blaise, however, was having none of it. He knew Theodore well enough, after all – he was the only person Theo considered the closest to a 'friend', not an ally.
"You were gawking at her not just seconds ago, mate," he pointed out with a sigh. "Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you."
"Can't someone, for Salazar's sake, just look at someone and not get questioned about it?" Theo asked him, already irritated.
"Definitely," Blaise countered, seemingly having way too much fun pestering his dear friend. "But, you know, it's definitely not a crime admitting that she looks hot. It's stupid, after all, denying the obvious."
"You go to her, if you find her that bloody hot," Theo challenged.
"I would have, but I have a date, remember?" Blaise winked, making Theo roll his eyes. Of course. Blaise had Daphne's younger sister, Astoria, accompany him to the ball. "Besides," he continued, grinning, "I'm a loyal man."
Theo jeered, he had to. "She's trouble," he said, glancing at Daphne again. She was leaning in to whisper something in Terence's ear, making a small smirk spread across the older male's lips.
"Oh, yeah?" the mocha-skinned wizard interrogated, licking his lips, making Theo turn his attention back to his friend. "What makes you say so?"
Daphne had a reputation of being the femme fatale of Slytherin, but Theo didn't feel like talking about that, he couldn't. Reputation was a field where he could really be Daphne's equal, very unfortunately so.
"Anyone this intriguing must be trouble," Theo reasoned, even before thinking twice. He spluttered, blaming his alcohol consumption for his loose-lipped state, as Blaise broke out into an ear-to-ear grin.
"So, you admit you find her intriguing," he chuckled. "Honestly. Go and talk to her, instead of eyeing her like that."
"Like what?"
"Like a starving beast eyeing its prey."
Theo didn't go red, but a light shade of pink appeared on his cheeks. Fortunately, Theo didn't get enough time to think of a reply equally as witty as Blaise's, as Astoria approached him, wearing a simple blue, sleeveless gown. Blaise's expression morphed into a genuine smile, upon spotting the beautiful younger witch – something which gave Theo the impression that Blaise was truly enamoured by the said Greengrass.
Talk about the Greengrass siblings being enchanting.
"Ready to go?" Blaise asked her, getting up and offering his hand. Astoria took it and beamed at him. Blaise turned his head to glance at Theo and regarded him briefly with a small smirk, motioning him to go talk to Daphne. With that, they made their way to the dance floor.
Theo looked back to where Daphne had been previously, but she wasn't there anymore and the area seemed dimmer without her there. He couldn't help but shake his head at the thought of that. He eyed the couples dancing and downed his leftover champagne in one go. It was not as though he didn't have a partner – on the contrary, it was the opposite. There were many witches who had asked him to the Yule ball, but he eventually ended up going with the Ravenclaw prefect, Padma Patil. He was initially looking forward to the event, but Padma had proved to be nothing but an immensely boring partner. She only talked about books, and nothing else – yes, Theo was a man who favoured intellectual conversations, which didn't involve trivial topics like heels or dresses, or anything relating to gossips, but sticking to only one topic? That, too, about books? On a day which was meant to be fun?
Theodore Aurelius Nott would rather pry out his own ribs, thank you very much.
Finishing his drink, he decided to get out of the Great Hall, in order to get some fresh air. The crowded hall and the excited buzzing of the students made him feel suffocated – once it was exciting, now it just felt like nothing but solitary confinement. He quietly whistled under his breath as he reached the corridors, taking out his chocolate flavoured thigars, which he was able to get from Hogsmeade. The wind wasn't as biting or vicious as it would be in Britain, but it was still cold enough to bring redness to his cheeks. Lighting it up nonverbally, he took a drag, puffing out small circles of smoke from his lips, as he stuffed his hands inside the pockets of his robes.
"I didn't know you smoked."
It was that voice, which made chills run up and down his spine. It made his cheeks grow even redder as his temperature spiked, his heart pounding against his chest. It was her voice. He hated that she had that power over him, but this was Daphne Greengrass – she had that power over everyone. Theo turned his head to look at her standing next to him in a dark red coat, her manicured hands shoved into her pockets, her eyes watching him with fascination.
"Only when I'm drunk, which is a rare occurrence," he replied, trying his best to maintain his composed demeanour.
"Oh. I see," she said, and there was a brief silence, as she took her gaze from him to look at the view in front of them. The chilly wind ruffled her brown hair and she had a smile on her lips. The smile was just as dangerous, though – it was one of those smiles that indicated that she knew something, and the way she wore it was extremely convincing.
"Strange," she said in a soft hum, finally breaking the silence, her eyes never leaving the view outside. "Aren't you going to ask me what's strange, Theo?"
Theo refused to let her twirl him into this kind of tizzy. He refused to let her pull the strings of his emotions and hormones with her soft voice, her gentle gaze, and her confident stance. He refused to let his heart jump and his tongue stumble over the words he needed to say in response. She wasn't some goddess; she was Daphne Greengrass, who didn't have any more power over him than anyone else.
"What's strange?" He finally asked.
She looked back at him, her bluish-green eyes locking with his blue ones. They were outlined with a light black and it only made them more intense. "It's strange how we've yet to really meet."
"We have met." Theo couldn't help the confusion in his voice.
She smiled, in a way that a parent might smile at their child when they coloured their animal wrong. "Not really. I mean, I know who you are and you know who I am. We've spoken in passing, and in our classes, too. But I don't really know anything about you, and you surely know nothing about me." Her smile shifted, and it would have been imperceptible if he hadn't been paying strict attention. She was no longer smiling at him in some kind of patronizing demeanour – that he could easily concur.
Theo felt slightly uneasy but also strangely drawn to her. There was an electricity between the two of them – one that he couldn't be sure if it truly existed or was just a mere part of his imagination, due to the amount of drinks he'd had. He licked his lips and resisted taking a step closer to her.
"There is not much to know," he finally said, and it was the truth. What was there to know, anyway? His mother had succumbed to death when he was five. His father, an infamous Death Eater, who had abused him mentally and physically for years, had been taken to Azkaban after the battle of the Department of Mysteries, along with some other Death Eaters, leaving a sixteen year old Theo – the last Nott left, and heir of all the fortune the Nott estate possessed – behind to take care of the multiple business companies he had under his belt. All of it was in public archives already – his entire life was an open book for everyone to read. He didn't like the thought of it at all, but alas – his wishes weren't the deciding factor in life.
"About yourself or about me?"
Theo thought, really thought, and then answered, "Either."
"That's quite presumptuous of you, Theodore," she said, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "I happen to be a very intriguing woman."
Theo didn't dare blink. "In what ways?"
"In all ways," she countered in a hush, and her lips puckered into a small smile.
He studied her, at a loss for words, and tried to figure out how it was this woman was able to spin him up into this mess. Perhaps if he wasn't so intoxicated, she wouldn't have been able to do it so easily. He didn't want to admit that perhaps she was just that good at getting what she wanted, at making people feel special, at using that to her advantage.
She was watching him steadily still with that puckered smile and her all-knowing eyes. She knew she had him backed into a corner – figuratively, of course. She knew that there wasn't anything he could say to that, and she enjoyed the accomplishment.
Slowly, very slowly, Daphne let go. Her dangerous smile – the one that melted worlds and knocked down walls – beamed into existence on her face as she backed off from where she stood and, without another ushered word, made her way inside. Theo couldn't help but follow suit.