AN: to my excellent reviewers, all of you: please please please forgive me for this over-delaying of updates, because I was in a writer's block. Terrible, that thing is. I'm really sorry, due to terrible lack of time(due to my infernal research essay) I just couldn't reply to you all personally in my AN. Please don't mind. Thankfully, I finally managed to think out the story arc going, so you got this update. This story is NOT abandoned. Copy that, all of you? Say Roger. Haha. So, folks, review, review, and review, please, tell me how you think of the ongoing White Nights!

And, onwards, ho! "Why do we see each other on only full moon nights, Harry?" Daphne questioned curiously, as the moonlight caressed her face and threw into shadows the pale face of the sixteen-year-old who was sitting in front of her, legs crossed, looking out on a village lane from the roof of the light house they sat in.

Draco Malfoy had often gloated about how he caught hold of Potter and his cronies in his fifth year, in that room of requirement. Daphne had also heard, but hadn't bothered much of it.

Till today, when Harry had brought her to it.

Acknowledging the fact that Harry would still be in the Astronomy Tower this time also, she hadn't left her homework to be done over there. Instead, she had done it beforehand. Harry might be happy with detentions with McGonagall, but she certainly wasn't going to risk the old witch's wrath. Then she had wondered whether to go up to the Astronomy Tower or not.

For it was a dangerous game she was playing, far more dangerous than their little politics in the Slytherin Dorms, by associating with Harry Potter. For the bully this time was not Draco Malfoy, but somebody who was a zillion times terrifying than him.

Lord Voldemort.

And Daphne hated bullies.

But that did not mean that she had to love those who got bullied.

Fortunately, Harry Potter almost fitted into that list of the bullied. But almost. Having his parents killed, childhood destroyed, peace of life destroyed, but still, the boy had managed to fight back, lose, yet fight on. And that, Daphne valued more than anything.

For resilience, was more than anything she valued. To bounce back from defeats, ready for a fresh round….exactly what Slytherins wanted, but never actually had. Either they had won all their life, or they had lost all their life. In short, they all lacked a bit of true, actual, life.

Fortunately, Daphne had managed to detach herself from her peers and dispassionately watch the surrounding environment and the others, and had managed to not get overly swayed by any victory or defeat. True, she had thought Potter to have gone nuts to have declared the Dark Lord resurrected. Well, she paid for that. But true, she had kept an open mind for Potter after that. Well, she also got paid for that.

She was no fool; she knew perfectly, that any moment now, should hostilities emerge, she'd be forced by her family to join the Dark, because they would not be able to afford to be neutral, seeing as how most of the Light side distrusted them. But something inside her told her that she'd do good if she went up to the Astronomy Tower that day.

And for the first time in her life, Daphne Greengrass had listened to her heart, and it had paid off.

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"I dunno, Daphne." Harry said. "Must be a coincidence. Or, maybe we're turning into werewolves, slowly? Is there even such a transformation?" Was his lame attempt at a joke with Daphne Greengrass.

The enigmatic, Daphne Greengrass.

Who really did crinkle her eyes up and laughed at the joke. Harry mock-bristled at the insult, for clearly, it was a laugh at the lameness of the joke, not the joke itself at all.

Come to think of it, why was he even bothering about a joke with Daphne Greengrass? Harry wondered.

For life, had changed after he met the enigmatic young Slytherin. For one thing, his dislike of Slytherin was tempered from now on: he had been carefully observing the Slytherins, watching closely to see which of them could be potential allies. For, though the general public took him to be a blockhead, he was not. He was aware of the opportunity that allies in Slytherin offered him. For through them, he could get to the young Death Eaters over there. And through them, to their fathers. And through them, to his ultimate nemesis.

But was he intending for Daphne as merely a conduit to his internal conquest of Slytherin? Harry also wondered that. And had he really brought her down here, to his Room of Requirement, to show her his own imagination of the village of Godric's Hollow, for that reason? Harry found himself telling no. It was just as if he was thinking with his heart, not his mind at all. But thinking with his heart had led to Sirius being killed. But, Harry told himself exasperatedly, thinking with his heart might get Daphne killed, but that won't surely affect him that much.

Or will it?

Harry was confounded at himself. He barely heard Daphne say, "Now, that, was one of the lamest jokes I'd ever had the misfortune of hearing. Really, you might've got bitten already, but how come you know I have also?"

Harry just gave up the act, and trying to be a normal teenager for once, jumped up, and flailed his hands, shouting, "Oh, no! The Ice Queen is finally a werewolf! Save me from her bite!" and he was rewarded with a sharp "Shut up." Followed by a stinging curse almost hitting his loins but for his quick reflexes. He froze.

Daphne also froze. Had she gone too far? Aiming that sort of a curse at his family jewels…seemed quite low. Yet, she had done. Was it something to do with the irritating name of Ice Queen? She hoped against hope that Harry Potter wouldn't rage and duel their fledgling friendship into oblivion. For, like she didn't want to ever face Lord Voldemort, she also never wanted to face an angry Harry Potter. She waited, breathless with fear, as Harry opened his mouth and said,

"But that wasn't the spell!"

Daphne almost stunned him on the spot. The grinning idiot, looking like he was the cockiest man alive, holding her in fear that long and then playing her, on top it, going on to reply in such an idiotically endearing manner, and she really, really wanted to hex those emerald eyes out of oblivion, for they were superbly distracting her rage-fuelled thoughts.

To Harry, though, it was almost heaven seeing Daphne like that. To know that yes, this was the Daphne Greengrass that he thought really existed inside that ice-like visage and shell. A heart rested within that beautiful body, and that was all Harry really wanted to know. But come to think of it, why would I want to know even that? Harry asked himself, mentally scratching his head. But he had to give Daphne that: she looked amazing in her paradoxical expression of fury and laughter.

(line break)

"What troubles you so much, Harry? You rarely do seem to smile these days, even at Weasley's infernal jokes." Daphne commented.

Harry sighed, and, stared at the distant sunset in the transformed Room of Requirement, apparently making a decision. His jaw tightened, then he looked at Daphne. Unknowingly, Daphne's heart suddenly skipped a beat. Maybe that was why she did notice how Harry's shoulders sagged as though a great burden he acknowledged on himself, but, failed to notice what Harry did next.

For Harry deposited his head on her lap, face down, and he muttered:

"Save me, Daphne."

Daphne froze. She was shocked at the close proximity. She had never really allowed anyone to do that.

But she had also never allowed her heart to skip beats, which it had just done.

And the shock of the moment was heightened by what Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the destined Saviour of the Wizarding World said.

"Save me."The words were repeated in a low murmur, again.

"From what?" she managed to ask, instinctively trailing a hand through his hair.

"Either my life shall entail murder, or it shall end in murder. Neither can live while the other survives."

A cold fear struck Daphne's heart, as the gravity of the happenings in the world around them came crashing onto her. Harry Potter was in grave danger. In very, grave danger.

Not only from Voldemort, but also from himself. From letting himself turn into a mindless killing machine with that one act of murder.

Daphne cried with him that night, at the inevitable, impending loss of innocence that he never really had in the first place. It was also a White Night, but it was also dark as well.

She fell asleep, sometime past midnight. Harry asked the room for a bed, levitated her onto it, and cast a calming charm on her. He then slumped back into his armchair and stared reflectively at the moon high in the artificial sky that was the ceiling of the Room. He looked at Daphne's sleeping form, and smiled.

When Daphne awoke next morning, she found the chair next to the bed she found himself empty. She hastily checked herself. Nothing, was amiss. She had not been tampered with. She mentally rebuked herself at the thought. Potter just wasn't that kind. True to that belief, she found a small note beside the pillow on her bed.

You fell asleep last night. I must say, never a more beautiful sight did I see. Have a nice day.