Author's notes: Many thanks to my fantastic beta, Haphne24. You rock, AJ!

This chapter was finished sooner than I thought, so I decided to publish it right away. The next update on this story is planned for the second weekend of November, if real life doesn't get in my way.

MY

The next morning, the usual chatter and noise of breakfast time at Hogwarts greeted Harry and Daphne as they entered the Great Hall. As he was used to, Harry automatically steered his steps to the Gryffindor table, his eyes searching for his friends. Ron and Hermione were not down yet, and the glares they received from a few of his housemates - Seamus Finnigan and Romilda Vane in particular - made him reconsider, and he stopped.

'Harry, Daphne, over here!' Neville shouted from the Hufflepuff table, waving his arm.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a relieved glance and then threaded their way over to the Hufflepuff table, where they sat down next to Morag. They and Neville were not the only guests at the Hufflepuff table: Dean and Luna had come over, too, and so did Lisa and Terry.

'Don't pay him any heed, Harry,' Dean said, and motioned with his head towards Seamus. 'He'll come around, eventually.'

'I suppose you're right,' Harry replied as he poured himself a cup of tea. 'At least I don't have to share a dorm with him this time, so I won't butt heads with him constantly about his attitude.'

Dean and Neville laughed at that, both obviously remembering the spectacular fight he had had with Seamus at the beginning of fifth year.

'How's living in your own quarters?' Neville asked.

The three married couples looked at each other.

'I guess it's alright,' Ernie finally said. 'The apartment's rather small, but has all the essentials. I think we'll manage for a year.'

The other couples nodded to that, though Lisa said, 'I bet the Notts won't agree with us. It's not what they're used to.' She stuck her nose up in the air and sniffed. That had her friends laugh, but Daphne nodded to her statement.

'Definitely not,' she confirmed. 'I think Pansy's bedroom at her parent's alone was as big as our whole apartment.'

His breakfast momentarily forgotten, Terry turned his head around to the Slytherin table. 'Speaking of the Notts, where's our new Slytherin dream couple this morning?'

The others also had a look, but the Notts obviously had decided not to come into the Great Hall that morning.

'Makes you wonder what keeps them from joining us,' Terry grinned, and wiggled his eyebrows.

That earned him groans and gagging sounds from his friends, and a mock slap to his wrist from his wife. 'I'm still eating here, you know,' Lisa admonished.

'Sorry, love,' Terry replied, rubbing his wrist in an exaggerated way, and trying his best to look contrite, though his broad grin doomed that effort right from the beginning. The laughter around the table, following that short interplay, was disrupted by the owls arriving with the mail.

Ernie took the Daily Prophet from a rather unkempt looking barn owl that barely took the time to wait until he had dropped the five Knuts in the pouch on its leg. Harry paid no heed to the newspaper, knowing that his copy would be delivered through the Banishing Box. Given the nonsense that paper published, he could wait until the afternoon.

'What the bloody hell…!' Ernie exclaimed when he unfolded the newspaper.

'Language, love,' Morag reprimanded him. It sounded resigned, as if she was used to it.

Harry looked up from his plate, and so did the others. Ernie held up the newspaper for them to read the headline:

McGonagall's Questionable Choice

Daphne groaned, and Harry let out a sigh. 'Let me guess, they're speculating what possessed Professor McGonagall to make Daphne head girl and me head boy, because Daphne's a dark witch with an evil agenda, who bound me with Love Potions on top of that, and I'm hungry for power, as my current lawsuit against the Profit proves,' he said.

'Right in one,' Ernie confirmed, perusing the article. 'They've got proof for their accusations in form of quotes from one Miss Romilda Vane. Wasn't that the one who tried to give you cauldron cakes laced with a Love Potion?'

'Yeah, and Ron ate them by accident, and in the aftermath got poisoned by a bottle of mead intended for Dumbledore on his seventeenth birthday,' Harry replied.

'What?' his friends asked unison. He groaned inwardly: he had forgot that hardly anyone at school knew what had happened to him and his friends in this castle. The mead incident had been kept under the rug by Dumbledore, who didn't want it to become public knowledge that someone was trying to kill him. He was rescued by Professors Slughorn and Flitwick and his own Head of House, Hestia, who came to deliver the timetables.

'You've got to tell us everything about that soon,' Terry said, before he turned around to Professor Flitwick to receive his timetable.

Daphne was approached by Professor Slughorn. 'Ah, Mrs Potter,' he said as he handed her the timetable, 'I hope I'll see you and your husband often at my little dinner parties.'

'I think we can manage, even though we've a lot on our plates this year, Professor Slughorn,' Daphne replied, smiling at the rotund professor, and ignoring the push Harry gave her under the table with his knee.

Professor Slughorn gave her a delighted smile, and then went on to the Slytherin table. Harry waited until Hestia handed him his timetable and was occupied with Dean and Neville, before he addressed his wife. 'You can't be serious about going to these stupid parties!'

'Why not?' she replied, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. 'I think we'll meet a lot of useful people there.' Her expression was bland, but her eyes laughed at him. As always, she enjoyed his discomfort at the social demands put on them way too much, Harry thought. The corners of his mouth quirked up against his will, responding to their private joke. 'Yeah, and also a lot of slimy brown nosers who want to use me,' he grumbled, trying hard to maintain his façade.

She looked at him over the rim of her teacup. 'Have you already forgot what you promised to Kingsley and Alex? These parties will be a good opportunity to promote their ideas among very influential people from many different social circles you normally won't have access to.' She had a point, and she knew it, judging by the smug smile that played around her lips. He sent her a mock-glare, and emptied his teacup. The smugness around Daphne's mouth became more pronounced, and cute little dimples appeared in her cheeks. Harry leaned towards her. 'Snake!' he whispered into her ear, and she chuckled. She knew only too well about the devastating effect her dimples had on him, he thought, and didn't hesitate to use that to her advantage.

'The other day Gordon visited us and told us about your meeting at the Chat Noir, and what Minister Shacklebolt asked of you, Harry,' Ernie interjected, looking up from his timetable. 'Daphne has a point; these dinner parties will be useful, especially when you're trying to counteract the load of dragon dung the Profit writes about you.'

'Point taken,' Harry conceded, after he had considered Ernie's words. 'Though, I just hate it to have to curry favour with people like Slughorn; I'm always afraid I'll slip on the trail of slime he leaves in his wake and break my neck.'

His friends laughed at that. 'Yeah, you Gryffindors are too straightforward for that,' Lisa grinned.

'Hey, we're not all as pigheaded as Harry,' Neville replied, frowning at her in mock-offense, and causing another round of laughter.

Daphne looked at Harry. 'Are you finished with your breakfast?' When he nodded, she took his hand and pulled him up from his seat. 'Don't worry, love, I'll see that you won't come to harm at Sluggy's parties. Just employ your inner Slytherin, and you'll be fine.'

He rolled his eyes at her, but joined the laughter her remark caused among his friends. Together, the group of friends walked out of the Great Hall to get their books for their morning classes. It turned out they all had Transfiguration first, except for Neville and Morag.

At the big double door of the Great Hall they bumped into Ron and Hermione, who rushed in from the Entrance Hall without noticing them. Ron's robes were askew, as if he had dressed in a great hurry that morning, and Hermione's hair seemed to have developed a live of its own, standing out even more bushy than usual. Both had a harassed look on their face, and breathed hard, as if they had run all the way from the Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall. Without acknowledging them, they raced along the tables towards Hestia, who was just about to leave the Great Hall for her first class.

'Better late than never,' Neville remarked. 'I guess Ron still has to get used to that you're not there anymore to haul his lazy arse out of bed in the mornings, Harry.'

Harry chuckled at that. His wife gave him a questioning glance. 'I should've expected that,' he told her, motioning with his head back to the Great Hall, while they walked up the stairs to their apartment. 'I was always the one who made sure they got to breakfast on time. Ron will sleep until midday and Hermione loves to read in the morning, but will forget the time over her books.'

A couple of minutes later, they waited in front of the Transfiguration classroom together with Ernie, Lisa and Terry, Susan Bones, and the rest of the Ravenclaws, speculating how the new professor for Transfiguration, Professor Metcalfe, would be in comparison to Professor McGonagall.

'It'll be hard for her to measure up to the quality of teaching we have come to expect from Professor McGonagall,' Anthony Goldstein summed up the general consent. 'That'll be tough for any teacher.' His classmates nodded to that. Their talk was interrupted that moment by Professor Metcalfe, who opened the door to her classroom.

Harry looked over his shoulder when he turned around to follow his friends into the classroom. There was still no sign of Ron and Hermione. He was just about to enter the classroom, when he heard the sound of running feet. He halted his steps and looked over his shoulder: Ron and Hermione came running down the hallway, bickering all the time.

Harry marvelled how they still had the breath to argue while running at top speed. He rolled his eyes at Daphne. Some things obviously never changed, not even after a war that had almost destroyed their world. His wife smirked in reply, and they entered the classroom behind Ernie and Susan. The Potters took a seat next to each other in the third row. Lisa and Terry settled down beside them.

Ron and Hermione burst into the classroom just when Professor Metcalfe was about to close the door. While Hermione gave the professor an apologetic smile as she rushed past her, Ron, still munching on a piece of buttered toast he apparently had snatched up in the Great Hall, paid her no heed, and ignored the disapproving frown the professor sent his way.

After the usual introductions and the roll call, Professor Metcalfe waved her wand, and a sheet of parchment appeared in front of each of the students. 'In the light of the difficult circumstances of last year, I'd like to know where you all stand,' she explained. 'Not all of you got the education you deserved last year, and even if you were able to attend Hogwarts, the conditions at the school were not beneficial to learning. My first goal is to fill the gaps that occurred because of the difficult conditions. As soon as we're there, we can concentrate on the things you still have to learn for your N.E.W.T.s, before we'll start revising for the exams after the Easter holidays.'

She pointed towards the sheets of parchment in front of them. 'For that purpose I've drafted a small test and you've got the rest of the period to complete it. Those that finish early may leave the classroom quietly and enjoy a break. The second part of the period we'll have a practical. Begin!'

The students groaned, but began working on the test in front of them. It covered the material of the seventh year, Harry discovered as he read through it. He grimaced, but dipped his quill into the inkwell in front of him, and started to answer the questions to his best ability. Even though he hadn't had any formal education on the material, he found to his amazement that he could answer most of the questions. He had hit Hermione's books whenever they had come to a dead end in their search for the Horcrux and he needed to distract himself. Also, their lack of food made him look through the Transfiguration textbooks over and over again, in the hope to find some hints that would help them to make due with the little they had. Not that he had had any luck with that, but as a result he apparently had picked up more about the theory behind complex Transfiguration and Conjuration as he had thought possible.

Finally finished, he put down his quill and looked around. Terry and Lisa had left the room already a few minutes ago, while Daphne and Ernie just handed in their tests. Most of the other students, however, were still completing the answers.

Hermione was among them. Harry was used to her scribbling until the last second, making sure she covered every aspect of the problem presented to her. However, something in her behaviour today stroke him as odd. Her free hand was clutched in her hair, messing it up completely, so that it looked like the nest of a very untidy bird. He heard her groan softly, while she scratched out a sentence and started new, only to repeat that action a few seconds later.

Harry stood up and went to the professor's desk to hand in his test. His eyes never left Hermione's back. When he turned around after having put his parchment in front of Professor Metcalfe, he was finally able to look at his friend. She had smeared ink across her nose, and tears running down her cheek. He froze, staring at his friend. Next to her, Ron looked up. His quill was poised over his piece of parchment, but he hadn't written a single word ever since Harry had started watching Hermione. Harry suspected he was stalling to hand in his own test, so that he wouldn't have to leave an obviously distraught Hermione. His eyes met Harry's, and Harry could see the same helplessness in them he felt.

Professor Metcalfe startled him out of his shock. 'Please, leave the room, Mr Potter.'

He gave the professor an apologetic smile over his shoulder, and left the room.

The Boots, Ernie, and Daphne stood in a niche further down the hall, talking among themselves. Harry walked to them and draped his arm around Daphne's shoulder.

She greeted him with a kiss on his cheek, and smiled up at him. 'How did it go?'

'Amazingly well, considering that I didn't attend school last year,' he answered, and kissed her back, but it was a perfunctory kiss. His thoughts were still back in the classroom, trying to understand Hermione's strange behaviour.

'Why then this frown on your face?' Daphne asked. Her gaze searched his face.

He startled; he should have known that she would notice his absent mindedness. 'Hermione,' he answered, not sure how she would take his concern about his friend. 'She freaked out during the test.'

'Granger's always freaking when it comes to exams and tests,' Lisa interjected. She pursed her lips and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. 'I'm sure she'll manage and come out among the top students, as always.'

Daphne looked as if she agreed wholeheartedly with this statement, and Ernie and Terry nodded.

'Yeah, she's kind of a drama queen during exams. I'm sure she'll survive,' Terry added.

That wasn't an exuberant endorsement for Hermione, Harry thought. His first reaction was offense at his friend's behalf, but then he reminded himself how often Hermione had rubbed the wrong way with her peers during their years at Hogwarts because of her know-it-all attitude, and her eagerness to show off in classes. Even he and Ron had avoided her at all costs during the first weeks of their first year because of that. If it hadn't been for the troll incident, they never would have become friends. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, and shook his head. 'I know, but it's not like that; this is different. Even though she's always freaking before and after exams or tests, she's able to pull off all her knowledge. I not once saw her struggle while writing a test, but today she did.'

His wife still wasn't convinced. 'That was to be expected, wasn't it? Today's test covered seventh year material, and she didn't attend classes last year. You'd think she'll have problems with it.'

Terry, Lisa, and Ernie nodded to that.

Harry opened his mouth for a reply, but was interrupted by the door of the classroom flying open: Hermione stormed out of the room and ran towards the girl's restroom. She had her face averted when she dashed past them. Harry could tell by her body language that she was crying, but tried to hide her tears from her classmates. She yanked the door to the restroom open and disappeared; the door shut behind her with a loud bang.

Ron followed her at a slower pace, and took up his post in the window niche opposite of the restroom door. His jaw was set in a grim line, and his eyes not once strayed from the door to the restroom while he waited for Hermione to come out. The strained behaviour of his usually relaxed best mate told Harry more than anything that something was seriously amiss.

Harry sighed and turned back to his friends and his wife. They all stared at the restroom door. 'Everyone would think it's natural to have problems under these circumstances,' he resumed their conversation. 'However, Hermione will take it as a personal failure that she couldn't answer all questions of the test, and she'll push herself even harder.'

Daphne still didn't understand. 'She's ambitious, what's wrong with that?'

'Nothing,' Harry admitted, again running his hand through his hair, until it stood up at the back of his head. 'Hermione always went beyond that though. The way she obsesses about her performance at school isn't healthy.'

'Don't we know that,' Lisa snorted, and flicked a piece of lint from the lapel of her robes. 'I think in sixth year all of us have at least once been on the receiving end of one of her glares when we performed better than her. You should know that, Harry, considering how she reacted to your success in Potions.'

Ernie nodded his head. 'Lisa's right. I still remember how she reacted when Daphne beat her to first place at the O.W.L.s; if looks could kill, Daphne would've been dead!' He grinned at his cousin-in-law, who smirked back. 'I'd say it'll do her good to be put in her place, and to be reminded there are more smart people in the world than just her.'

Daphne, Lisa and Terry seemed to share his opinion, given how they hummed and nodded to Ernie's statement.

Harry shook his head. They didn't know Hermione as well as he did, and weren't able to see what was as plain as milk to him. Again, he started to object, but was interrupted by Professor Metcalfe who asked the class to come back into the classroom. Harry looked back over his shoulder if Ron and Hermione followed them. Ron had left his post in the niche and now stood in front of the door, his arms raised as if he was knocking on the door, and urging Hermione to come out.

Harry and Daphne had already taken their places when the door opened once again, and Hermione and Ron slipped into the room. That earned them a glare from the professor. 'Five points each from Gryffindor for your tardiness, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley!' From his place in the third row Harry could see how Hermione's shoulders sagged, and how Ron's earlobes turned a dangerous shade of red. However, no remark about the deduction of house points left his mouth. Harry began to wonder if Ron eventually grew up.

Each student now had a couple of objects in front of them, and a parchment with a list of tasks to complete. 'Begin,' Professor Metcalfe told them.

Harry took out his wand and set to work. Daphne raised her brows, and it occurred to him that she hadn't seen him using a wand once since they got married. Wandless magic had become second nature to him ever since he discovered that new ability the day after he had vanquished Voldemort. However, he had no intention to let the news of this talent of him spread around, so he decided to use his wand in classes. Judging by the small wink she gave him, Daphne agreed with his decision.

The first tasks were simple Transfigurations, but covered all the possible ways to transfigure one object into another, with the object-to-animated-animal transfiguration the most difficult among them. Harry thought he had done a good job with transfiguring his pincushion into a hedgehog, although a few spikes on his transfigured animal still looked suspiciously like pins. He then moved on to the Conjuration spells. The inorganic and unanimated Conjuration was no big problem. Soon he had the items Professor Metcalfe had listed lined up in front of him, although the conjuration of copper and silver took out a lot of him. Finally, there was only the conjuration of animated objects left. He flicked his wand and silently conjured a flock of colourful birds that fluttered around his head, reminding him of Pigwidgeon delivering a letter.

He let out a sigh of relief, and stashed his wand back in his pocket before he looked up. To his amazement he found that he was the first who had finished all the tasks, and seemed to have been successful with all of them. A lot of his classmates struggled with the conjuration of metals and animated objects.

Daphne tried to conjure a lump of copper, but wasn't successful before her third try.

Ernie had also moved on to the conjuration of metals. He raised his wand and made the movement for conjuring copper. His face flushed while he went through the moves of the spell, obviously trying to push his magic. Harry hardly suppressed a chuckle: Ernie looked as if he was about to lay an egg. However, nothing happened. Visibly deflating, Ernie let out a deep, disappointed breath and tried again.

Professor Metcalfe came over to Harry. She looked at the objects in front of him. 'Excellent practical wandwork, Mr Potter. Full marks!' She then walked over to Ernie, who had moved on to the conjuration of silver, after he had finally managed to conjure a tiny lump of copper.

Daphne gave her husband a proud smile behind the professor's back, but then turned back to her own work, a look of determination on her face. She flicked her wand, and beamed when a seizable lump of silver appeared in front of her.

Since this time Professor Metcalfe had said nothing about them being allowed to leave the room as soon as they were finished, Harry sat back in his chair and watched the progress of his classmates. Naturally, he was most interested in his friends. Lisa and Terry had progressed as far as Ernie and Daphne. They were also struggling with the conjuration of metals. Lisa soon gave it up as a lost cause, and moved on to the silent conjuration of birds, while Terry managed to conjure a sizable lump of copper, but failed miserably with silver.

From Lisa and Terry his eyes wandered to Ron and Hermione. Ron moved slowly, but steadily through the tasks, and had already two thirds of them accomplished successfully. Harry knew that his mate was a powerful and capable wizard, as long as he kept his wits about him, and had no doubts that Ron would be as successful with the remaining tasks.

The table in front of Hermione, however, looked like a disaster area. Seamus Finnigan was infamous for setting the objects he had to work on in Transfiguration on fire, if he didn't obliterate them anyway. Today, Hermione tried her best to beat him to the title of the Most Destructive Magician of the Millennium, as Professor McGonagall had called him in a fit of despair in their second year. Her hedgehog still wore the flowery pattern of her pincushion on his back, and his spikes looked definitely scorched. Her teacup missed the handle, but instead sported a long, ugly crack. She had obviously given up on the configuration of metals. The single bird she conjured with a flick of her wand had a drab, brown colour, and it fluttered only a few times before it settled down in Hermione's hair, obviously too tired to move on.

Any other time the sight of the bird settling down in Hermione's untidy bush of hair as if it was going to nest would have had Harry in stitches. However, there wasn't anything funny about the defeated way Hermione let her wand drop onto the table while she waited for Professor Metcalfe's judgement.

The professor looked not impressed with her work. Hermione's shoulders slumped even more when Professor Metcalfe put up a Privacy Charm and then delivered an obviously long and stern lecture. She then turned away from Hermione to assess the work of the rest of the students.

Harry saw that Hermione's shoulders quivered slightly. Ron put a hand on her arm, his head bent towards her, and said something to her. Deep frowns of worry marred his usually so cheerful and easygoing features. At first, Hermione seemed to draw comfort from his touch. Then she shrugged his hand off and withdrew from him. Harry hadn't thought possible that the lines of worry on Ron's face could get any deeper, but they did.

As soon as the bell rang, Hermione grabbed her bag and fled from the classroom, not heeding the many curious glances that followed her.

'Now, that was odd,' Daphne said as they walked to the Charms classroom. 'What by Merlin's unmentionables is wrong with Granger? She was always on top in Transfiguration; way ahead of all of us; this practical should've been a piece of cake for her.'

'I tried to tell you there's something wrong with her, but you wouldn't listen,' Harry replied. He was worrying where Hermione had ran to, and slightly miffed at his wife that she hadn't taken him serious when he tried to explain his concerns; thus the words came out much sharper than he intended.

Daphne's face flushed at his words, and her eyes darkened. Harry stared ahead, but he didn't really see anything, while he still brooded over Hermione's strange behaviour.

They continued their way to the Charms classroom in silence. Lost in his thoughts, Harry had no idea that his wife glanced at him from under her eyelashes. She seemed to be calm and composed as she walked beside him, and he was glad that she respected his need for thought and didn't start a conversation. However, had he looked at her once, he would have known that despite her outside calm appearance her eyes were dark and worried.

He was startled out of his musings when Ron caught up with him and touched him by the arm. One look at his friend told him that Ron was as concerned about Hermione's behaviour as he was. He let himself fall back behind Daphne.

'What's got into Hermione, Ron? Ever since you're back from Australia she acts like a completely different person.'

Ron looked around. Even though Daphne had walked ahead a couple of steps, it was plain to see by her body language that she tried to listen into their conversation. Anthony Goldstein and the Patil twins, who passed them that moment, also gave them curious glances.

'Not here. Can we talk tonight, after dinner?' Ron asked.

Harry nodded to that. 'Come to our rooms. We'll be undisturbed there.'

'Alright,' Ron agreed.

They had reached the Charms classroom while they talked. Neville and Morag already waited in front of the still closed door, and waved at them. Daphne walked to her cousin and started a conversation with her.

Ron looked around. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, and he let out a deep sigh.

Daphne regarded Harry with a strange expression in her eyes when he walked to her. He put his arm around her shoulder, and startled when she stiffened at his touch. 'Is something wrong, love?' he whispered into her ear.

She shook her head, and even seemed to relax against him, but she didn't look at him.

Something was bothering her, he decided, and she was trying to hide it from him. His heart sank. Had he done something wrong? Merlin, he was no Legilimens, so how was he supposed to know what was wrong? Not knowing what to do, he tightened his embrace around her shoulders, hoping that it would light up her mood, and dropped a kiss on her head. That apparently had been the right thing to do; she turned her head and kissed him on the cheek, a real smile on her face. He let out an inward sigh of relief. Whatever it was that had bothered her, it was apparently gone as sudden as it had come. Probably it was one of these strange girl things a male never would understand, Harry decided. His musings were interrupted by Professor Flitwick, who opened the door and invited them in.

As in Transfiguration, Harry, Daphne, Lisa and Terry took seats next to each other. Hermione still had not turned up. Ron waited until the last possible moment, but had to walk into the classroom when the diminutive professor asked, 'Won't you join us, Mr Weasley?'

'Sorry, professor,' Ron mumbled, blushing a deep Weasley red. He slipped into the classroom, closing the door behind him, and sat down in a row at the back of the room.

Professor Flitwick had just finished the calling of the roll, and began to explain the aims of his class, when to door opened again. He looked up from his notes and frowned. 'Ah, Miss Granger. So nice that you decided to join us. Five points from Gryffindor!'

Hermione's response wasn't audible. Harry sighed inwardly, but didn't look around, resolving he would get to the bottom of Hermione's problems when he talked to Ron that night.

Like Professor Metcalfe in Transfiguration, Professor Flitwick also had prepared a written and practical test for them, 'to get an idea where you are, and to find out on what we have to work on,' he told them. The test was difficult, Harry had to admit, but as in Transfiguration before, he had no problems to complete the written part of the test, and breezed through the practical part. Again, he was finished first, and Professor Flitwick sent him out of the room.

Daphne was almost done with the practical part; Lisa and Terry were midway through it. He slipped out of their row without disturbing them and walked towards the door. A quick glance at Ron and Hermione, who shared a table in the last row, told him that the happenings of Transfiguration repeated themselves in Charms. While Ron seemed to do reasonably well on the practical part, Hermione once again was in over her head and seemed to struggle with each spell.

She looked up when Harry passed her. There was an expression of desperation in her eyes Harry had never seen in them before, not even when they got caught last year and were brought to Malfoy Manor to face Voldemort. He slowed his steps and sent an encouraging smile to her, before he slipped out of the room. He settled down in one of the window seats, and waited for his wife and his friends to show up.

Daphne came out of the room a few minutes later. 'Let's have an early lunch, so that we can make the last preparations for the first year orientation,' she suggested, and linked arms with him.

Harry cast a glance towards the classroom door. He didn't want to leave until he saw how Hermione was doing, but he also knew that Daphne was right. They still had some last minute preparations left to do before the first year orientation could start. His obligations as head boy were at war with his wish to support Hermione. However, her behaviour towards Ron that morning indicated that she was not yet ready to accept help. He would have to wait what Ron had to say about the situation, before he could make an informed decision. With an inward sigh, Harry gave in to the demands on the head boy and allowed Daphne to lead him away.

The bell had not yet rung for lunch break when they walked into the Great Hall, but the tables were already set for lunch. A few older students, who had had a free period, were eating their lunch. Daphne and Harry took a seat at the end of the Gryffindor table. As soon as they sat down, a bowl of soup and a platter of sandwiches appeared in front of them.

The demanding morning with two written and practical tests had given Harry an appetite, and he filled his bowl with the delicious smelling lentil soup and took a sandwich. He didn't look up again before he had satiated his first hunger.

Daphne was toying with the small helping of lentil soup in the bowl in front of her, but not really eating anything.

'Aren't you hungry, kitty?'

His words startled her out of her thoughts. 'Not really,' she admitted, and cast him a small smile while she continued stirring her soup with her spoon. 'It's always like this after tests; I feel choked and can't eat.

That was a feeling he understood only too well. He remembered the many times, especially in his fifth year, when he had been under such an enormous pressure that his stomach felt like a pit of liquid fire, and he had hardly been able to eat.

He motioned with his free hand towards a basket with fruits a little further down the table. 'You'd better take an apple with you for later,' he advised. 'You'll be famished as soon as the stress wears off.'

'Good idea,' she nodded, but made no move to follow his advice.

Since Daphne obviously wasn't in the mood for talking, they finished their meal in a companionable silence.

Their mutual friends entered the Great Hall when they had just finished their meal, and got up to gather the items they would need for the First Year Orientation from their apartment. Ron and Hermione were not with them. They waved at their friends, and then left the Great Hall.

There still was no sign of Ron and Hermione among the students that flooded to the Great Hall when they walked up the staircase; Harry's heart sank. He could only speculate that Hermione again needed some alone time after the disastrous Charms class, and that Ron had stayed with her to comfort her. He remained in a pensive silence until they reached their apartment.

'I'll just look after Lizzie,' Daphne announced, and opened the door to the kitchen where they had left the kitten in the morning.

'Alright,' Harry agreed, and continued to the living room to gather the stack of parchment with the list of tasks for the scavenger hunt from Daphne's desk, where she had put it that morning before classes.

'What are you doing here?' Daphne exclaimed, and he stopped in his tracks. He turned around and walked back to the kitchen.

He peeked into the room. 'Are you alright, Daphne?' he asked.

Instead of an answer, she motioned with her hand towards the basket of the kitten.

'What the…!' he gasped.

Miss Elizabeth Bennett lay in her basket, fast asleep, and cuddled up to a contentedly purring Crookshanks.

Daphne turned around to him. The surprise on her face mirrored his. 'I swear I closed the door to our apartment behind us as we left for breakfast this morning. I've no idea how he got in.'

Harry stepped to his wife and put his arm around her shoulders, while he regarded the two animals with a broad grin. 'Don't worry about that, love. Cats and Kneazles have a way to get in where they want to get to. They look cosy, don't they?'

Daphne let out an exasperated sigh at that remark. 'Too cosy, if you ask me. Lizzy will be a grown up Kneazle sooner than we'll know. Crookshanks is a tomcat. I don't think he's been neutered. If we're not careful, this castle will be teeming with Kneazles before we know what happened to us.'

MY

Lunch was almost over when they reached the Great Hall. The first years all had huddled together at the end of the Hufflepuff table for lunch. Their cheerful and expectant chatter was the main source of noise in the spacious room. There was no mistaking that they were excited at the prospect of an afternoon of fun.

Harry snorted when registered that the invasion from firsties from all four houses at their table caused a lot of the older Hufflepuff students to take flight and seek refuge with their friends from other houses. The distinctive yellow trimming of their robes could be seen at all four tables, even at the Slytherin table, Harry noticed to his surprise.

Headmistress McGonagall and the other professors looked at the mingling houses with an indulgent eye, and made no effort to suppress the noise the excited firsties caused. Just the contrary, by the looks on their faces they seemed to enjoy the spectacle immensely.

Daphne stopped when they reached the Great Hall. She smiled, taking in the happily chatting students and the mixed tables.

'It's so good to see laughing students in the Hall, and hear the chatter,' she said quietly.

Harry gave her a curious side glance while he led her to the Gryffindor table, where their mutual friends sat together. Ron had joined them, but there was no sign of Hermione.

'Why's that?' he asked.

'You have no idea how it was in this school under the Carrows last year,' she explained. 'If you thought Umbridge was bad with the way she tried to oppress us, you haven't seen the Carrows yet. In contrary to Umbridge, they were magically capable and strong enough to enforce their rule of horror. Admittedly, it doesn't take much more to cast the Torture Curse than a twisted mind; however, their minds were very twisted. They didn't tolerate talk and laughter during the meals: everyone who dared to whisper got a week of detention with them. Even firsties weren't spared from that rule; one of them didn't survive it.'

Harry shuddered. A black veil seemed to have lowered itself over the Great Hall, blending out the cheerful chatter and laughter. He tried to imagine the fear-stricken silence in the Great Hall, and the students hunkering over their plates, all desperately trying not to attract the attention of the sadistic siblings. He could almost feel the secret relief of the students who had escaped for yet another time when a new victim was singled out - and their guilt about that.

He didn't notice that Daphne called his name, and startled when she touched his arm.

'You've completely zoned out for a moment,' she excused herself as he jumped.

'Sorry, love,' he gave her a weak smile. 'I tried to imagine how it was here under the reign of the Carrows.' He shook himself, banning the image Daphne's words had conjured into the back of his head. 'You're right, this is so much better!' He motioned with his hands to the four house tables.

Daphne took his arm and guided him to a free spot at the Gryffindor table, next to Neville. The moment they sat down, Seamus Finnigan pushed his bowl back and stood up. 'Sorry, I've gotta go now. The air around here is suddenly poisoned.'

Dean watched the retreating back of his best friend with a frown on his face. Then he turned to Daphne. 'Sorry, Daphne, I've no idea what's wrong with him these days. By now he should know that you weren't like Malfoy and his kind.'

Daphne sighed. 'I don't blame him, Dean. You weren't here last year, and have no idea how it was. Torture was a part of our daily life. Half Bloods like Finnegan were on top of the list of the Carrows, and he got it daily; they almost killed him.'

'I'll give you that. But, that wasn't your fault; Seamus should know that,' Dean objected.

Daphne gave him a long look. 'I took Defense last year, Dean. You've probably heard what that class was about. I chose to cast the Torture Curse on my classmates, so that I wouldn't be on the receiving end of it. Not that it helped me to escape in the long run,' she added, bitterness in her voice. 'I'm not proud of what I've done last year, Dean, and I don't blame Seamus that he despises me for that.'

Her words were met with silence from the seventh years who had gathered at the Gryffindor table.

Harry's head spun. Daphne had cast the Torture Curse on her classmates? He never would have thought that of her. She was so warm and caring; he always had had the impression that she was incapable to harm anyone. Except when her ire was provoked, or someone she loved was harmed. Then she could turn into a lioness. He looked at his wife as if he saw her for the first time.

Then Parvati cleared her throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. 'Don't put yourself down, Greengrass. Remember, we were always partnered in Defence. You shook like a leave each time you had to cast that curse on me. You didn't mean it to work, and so it didn't much more than to raise me a couple of feet from the ground and spin me around. Of course, I screamed like a banshee, and feigned to be completely out of it each time. It wouldn't have done to let the Carrows know what was going on, would it?'

Her remark caused Neville to chuckle. Harry remembered how he had told him, Ron, and Hermione on their way from the Hog's Head to the Room of Requirement how the Gryffindors used to act under the Torture Curses thrown by the the incapable members of Slytherin, though he had only mentioned the males back then.

Daphne gasped at Parvati. 'You mean… you mean I didn't hurt you?'

'Not once,' Parvati confirmed, a tense little smile played around her lips.

Daphne covered her face with the palms of her hands. Her shoulders shook.

Nobody said a word; they were all lost in their own memories of the war.

Harry put his arm around Daphne's shoulder and pulled her close. 'Did I ever tell you how I cast the Torture Curse on Amycus Carrow? In contrary to you, I meant it to work, and work it did.' The satisfaction about that was palpable in his words.

Her head shot up, and she looked at him with bloodshot eyes, an incredulous expression on her face, while the last tears still ran down her cheek. 'You, Harry? Impossible!'

Some of his classmates obviously shared her opinion. 'No way, mate!' Dean protested, while Parvati gaped at him.

Ron, however, gave him a sad, little smile over Parvati's head, and Neville looked as if he wasn't surprised at all. Lisa and Terry and Ernie and Morag had pensive looks on their faces, but they also didn't look surprised.

The firm conviction in his wife's voice warmed Harry's heart. 'Yet I did,' he contradicted. 'Mind you, I'm not proud of it, but it felt damned good!'

Daphne still stared at him as if she didn't trust her ears.

Neville, however, chuckled. 'Well, he certainly deserved it,' he remarked, and all the seventh years who had stayed at Hogwarts during the last year nodded their agreement to his statement. He looked at Harry. 'Do you mind to tell us how it happened?'

Harry winced. He didn't like to talk about the past, but one look at the still confused face of his wife told him that he owed her an explanation.

'Well, it happened in the Ravenclaw common room. I had gone there with Luna to find out where one of the - items - we needed to destroy to get rid of Voldemort was hidden.'

None of his classmates even flinched as he mentioned the feared name.

'Alecto had got wind that I was in the castle, and waited in the Ravenclaw common room for me. Luna stunned her. Amycus was outside and wanted in to help his sister, but he was too dumb to answer the riddle and get in.'

That had his classmates laugh out loud. Even Daphne let out a rather watery chuckle.

'While he was still pounding at the door and cursing the knocker, Professor McGonagall appeared on the scene, and he ordered her to open the door. Of course, she had no problem to answer the riddle.'

Ignoring the chuckles of his friends, he went on, 'Well, when Amycus came in, he saw his sister unconscious on the ground, but no sign of me.' Harry grinned at the memory of the idiotic face of the oaf.

'How's that?' Lisa asked. 'I know for sure there's no place in the common room where you could've hidden.'

Harry's grin got even broader. 'I own an Invisibility Cloak,' he admitted, and his friends gasped in surprise. 'Luna and I hid beneath it. Unfortunately, Alecto had already pressed her Dark Mark to signal to Voldemort that he had cornered me. Voldemort was never one who took it kindly when one of his followers summoned him in vain, so you can imagine that Amycus was quite distraught.'

'I imagine,' Lisa grinned, while Terry, Ernie and Neville howled with laughter.

Harry's face turned grim. 'What happened next was not so funny. Amycus had the bright idea to blame the Ravenclaw students for summoning Voldemort in vain, in the hope he would kill a couple of the students, and spare him and his sister.'

That remark instantly sobered his friends. The girls looked positively green.

'You can imagine that Professor McGonagall didn't took that idea kindly,' he continued his tale. 'She really laid into him. I don't remember what he replied, but next thing I knew is he spat her square in the face. Something snapped in me right then, and I saw red. I stepped out from under my cloak, and cast the Torture Course at him. I really meant to hurt him, and I got him good.' Retelling the story, he could still feel the satisfaction of the moment he saw the sadistic Carrow sibling writhe in agony under his spell. He shrugged his shoulders. 'I admit it was one of my less than stellar moments, but it felt damned good!'

Daphne linked her arm with his, and leaned her head at his shoulder. The tear tracks were still visible on her face. 'You're such a Gryffindor, love,' she sighed. 'What did Professor McGonagall say?'

'She told me that it was very gallant of me,' Harry replied sheepishly.

That had his friends chuckle. 'Well, she's always had a soft spot for you, Harry,' Neville remarked. 'I would've done the same in your place.' Ron and Dean nodded to that, and so did Ernie and Terry, to Harry's surprise.

'My knight in shining armour,' Daphne smiled, and ran a hand through his hair. Her eyes had lost the haunted look, he noticed, and he let out a sigh of relief.

They were interrupted by the bell that announced the end of the lunch break. As one man, the firsties turned around and looked at Harry and Daphne. The excited expectation on their faces had Harry laugh. He stood up and took Daphne by the hand to haul her up. 'Come on, love, circus time!'

She laughed at that, but followed him to the front of the hall.

Harry pointed his wand at his throat and silently cast 'Sonorus!' Aloud he said, 'May I ask the prefects to join us?'

From all tables the prefects walked towards them. A quick count of heads told Harry that Hermione was the only prefect who chose not to participate. They told the prefects to pair up, and then sent them to designated spots around the castle. Harry wasn't surprised as he saw Tori and Gideon walk out of the Great Hall to their post hand in hand. Of course, Daphne had also noticed, and she rolled her eyes. Harry chuckled, which got him a mock-glare from his wife.

'You shouldn't support them,' she told him under the cover of the chatter of the overexcited firsties.

'If you were that angry about their relationship as you pretend to be, you already would've done something about it,' he replied, while he divided the stack of parchment with the tasks into several smaller ones. That remark got him a real glare from his wife, but it was half-hearted, at best, proving his point.

Ignoring him for the moment, Daphne cast the Sonorus Charm on herself and addressed the firsties, explaining the rules of the game, and finally asking them to sort themselves into groups of four, with one member of each of the houses in each group.

The firsties managed that much quicker than Harry had thought possible, but also with at least twice as much noise as he had thought the sorting demanded. Finally, each of them grabbed a sheet of parchment, and the hordes stormed out of the Great Hall.

The silence they left behind was the sweetest sound Harry had ever heard, and he let out a relieved sigh. A chuckle behind him made him turn around.

Professor McGonagall stepped down from the podest, pulling earplugs out of her ears. 'You handled that flea circus really well, Daphne and Harry.'

Harry stared at the earplugs in her hands. 'Why didn't I think of that?' he exclaimed.

Daphne and Professor McGonagall laughed at the comical expression on his face. 'When you have so many years dealing with excited first years under your belt as I have, Harry, you'll learn to be prepared,' the usually so stern headmistress told him with a prim smile. 'I see you have everything well in hand. Unfortunately, I can't stay and wait for the winning team to return, but I'll be back when you award the prices. One of the joys of being headmistress is the neverending stack of governmental tasks that need to be finished.' She gave them a small nod and then briskly walked out of the Great Hall.

For the first time in all of his Hogwarts years, Harry found himself almost alone in the huge room. He straddled one of the benches at the Ravenclaw table, and pulled Daphne with him.

She followed with a small giggle and sat down, her back leaned against his chest.

Harry put his arms around her and leaned his head on hers, letting the now familiar scent of her hair wash over him. However, their time of silent relaxation wasn't long. After not even forty minutes the first group of firsties stormed back into the Great Hall. Harry wasn't amazed that it was Cassie's group, and he gave her a wink.

They handed their parchments to Daphne, and Harry helped his wife to check if they had completed all the tasks correctly. They had; which would make them the winner of the hunt, since they came back first.

The next group arrived not even five minutes later, also with all tasks completed correctly, and from then on the groups returned in quick succession. Of course, the noise level rose with each returning group, until Harry wished he had asked Professor McGonagall to leave her earplugs with him.

The prefects returned together with the last groups, all eager to watch the presentation ceremony. Professor McGonagall also returned, as she had promised, and had the four heads of houses in tow.

Harry never would have thought that his former Head of House would do it, but when he asked her, she awarded the prices - an assortment of sweets from Honeydukes Daphne had bought - to the three winning teams, among much laughter and applause. Afterwards, Headmistress McGonagall invited the first years and the prefects to refreshments. The five teachers sat down among the students at the Ravenclaw table.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a smile. That had gone much better than they had dreamt.

Study time had already begun when Professor McGonagall called an end to the festivities. The firsties - on a collective sugar high - stormed off to their common room. The prefects and professors followed in a more sedate place.

'What now?' Daphne asked, linking arms with Harry as they ambled out of the Great Hall. 'We don't have any homework. What do you think about a walk around the lake or would you like to see the new common room?'

Harry looked down on her, an expression of regret on his face. 'Neither, nor,' he replied. 'I ought to use the unexpected free time to get my mail done; I haven't emptied the Banishing Box yesterday.'

Daphne made a face at that. 'I can't complain about that, can I? After all, I'm the one who's always nagging you to keep up with your obligations. Oh well, I'll come with you. I wanted to decorate our rooms, anyway.'

Back in their rooms, they both in mutual silent agreement changed from their bulky school robes into jeans and sweaters. Then Harry sat down at his desk. As he had expected, the Banishing Box was full to the brim with letters from the goblins and his Muggle managers. With a sigh, he read his way through the letters, and then pulled parchment and a quill towards him and began to write. Two hours later, his hand began to cramp, and he had a kink in his neck, but was also awarded with the satisfying feeling of having his duties fulfilled.

He stretched, then sniffed. A wonderful aroma permeated the small apartment. He stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Daphne was setting the table. As she heard his steps, she looked up and smiled. 'There you are! I was just about to call you for dinner.'

His gaze fell on a delicious looking and even better smelling shepherd's pie on the table. 'I had no idea you can cook,' he said as he pulled out the chair.

'I can't,' his wife replied. 'But I can call Breezy.'

Harry broke out into laughter, and sat down at the table. Daphne sat down opposite of him. She looked tired, he observed. He vaguely recalled that he had seen her walking in and out of the living room, each time carrying photos, cushions or vases or pots with flowers in her hand, and assumed that she had had a busy afternoon. He couldn't tell what exactly she had done to their apartment, but the rooms seemed much cosier now.

After their meal, they washed the dishes together.

'Are you a wizard or what?' Daphne snorted as Harry started to scrub the plates the Muggle way, but nevertheless she picked up a teatowel and started to dry the dishes.

He looked up from the soapy water in front of him, and grinned. 'I know. But I've done this so often, it's become second nature for me. Mrs. Weasley always made us clean the Muggle way. She said it was character building; guess after all the cleaning she and my relatives made me do I have lots of character.'

Daphne laughed. 'What does that say about me? I hardly ever had to help in the house, and the little I had to do I was allowed to do by magic.'

He joined her laughter, while he rinsed the last plate, and let the water out of the sink. He dried his hands and then pulled her close. 'I don't know. I like you just the way you are.'

The dishes forgotten, Daphne slung her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. His hand stole under her sweater, causing shivers of pleasure running along her spine. She moaned softly, and pulled him closer towards her.

A knock on the front door of their apartment interrupted what promised to become a very pleasant way to pass the rest of the evening.

'Damned!' Harry cursed. 'I completely forgot I asked Ron to come over tonight.'

'Language, love,' his wife reprimanded him, adjusting her sweater, but she didn't sound convincing. 'Why did you ask him to come over?'

Harry ran a hand through his hair, already turning around and walking to the door. 'I'm still concerned about Hermione. The only one who probably knows what's wrong with her is Ron. I want to know if there's something I can do.' he told her over his shoulder. He walked into the hallway, never noticing the shadow that crossed Daphne's face, and the way she bit her lips as she watched his retreating back.

'Come in,' Harry told his friend as he opened the door. He led Ron into the living room. 'Have a seat. I'll see if I can find a few butterbeers in the pantry.'

However, before he could turn around, Daphne walked into the room, carrying two bottles of butterbeer in her hands. She gave Ron a smile in greeting, and put the bottles on the table. 'I think I'll go and find Tori for a chat, so you two can talk in privacy,' she told Harry as she straightened up.

'You don't have to leave because of me, Gr… Daphne. Actually, I'd appreciate if you stayed; Harry and I probably can use some female insight,' Ron's voice held her back.

Daphne startled. Her eyes got wide for a moment as she stared at Ron, but then she smiled. 'Alright. Wait a minute, I'll just get myself a bottle of butterbeer.' She walked back into the kitchen, and returned not even a minute later, a bottle in her hand.

Ron had sat down in one of the armchairs, and Harry lounged on the sofa. He reached out with his hand and pulled her beside him. Daphne made herself comfortable and took a sip of her butterbeer.

An awkward silence settled on the room. Both young men sipped their butterbeers, not quite looking at each other. Finally, the silence was broken by Harry. 'What's wrong with Hermione, Ron? She acts completely out of character. Not to mention, that I never saw her fail a test. What's happened to her in Australia?'

Ron leaned forward in his chair, putting his bottle on the coffee table in front of him. He propped up his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his face with both hands, while he let out a long sigh. When he looked up at Daphne and Harry, an expression of utter helplessness was etched on his face.

'I've no idea, mate. I doubt it began in Australia; I think she's never really recovered from what happened at Malfoy Manor.' He flicked an uneasy glance towards Daphne. 'Sorry, mate, I have no idea what you told your wife about the last year, and what she's supposed to know.'

Harry felt how Daphne stiffened by his side. He cast her a quick side glance, and was aware that she had assumed a bland expression, a sure sign that she kept her emotions under tight control. He knew it was his fault; he should have told her everything by now. She deserved it; she had shown him again and again that she was not only trustworthy, but cared for him deeply. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to talk about the last year; it was still too fresh, and some wounds were still too raw to be touched.

'We covered a couple of things so far, but not everything. I don't think we spoke about Malfoy Manor yet.' He put his arm around Daphne and pulled her close. 'Sorry, love, it's got nothing to do with you. You know that I trust you. It's only - it's so damned hard to talk about it, and I never was one for talking.'

Daphne turned her head and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek, while her hand caressed his other cheek. 'I told you that I'm aware that there are a lot of things you don't want to talk about, Harry. It's alright with me that you take your time.'

He dropped a kiss on her head. 'Thank you, love,' he murmured. He turned to Ron. 'Just go ahead; you don't have to mind your words in front of Daphne.'

Ron cracked them a small grin, though there wasn't any humour in it. 'Good to know. This would be somehow awkward to talk about if I had to be mindful of what to say.' He took another swig of his butterbeer, as if to fortify himself, and then started talking.

'We were caught around the end of March by a bunch of snatchers, and taken to Malfoy Manor…'

Harry's face darkened. 'Thanks to an idiotic mistake on my part,' he added.

Ron seemed to be about to object, but was beaten to it by Daphne. 'We all make mistakes, Harry. You're no exception to that,' she told him, running a hand through his hair.

He wasn't consoled. 'I should've known better!'

'Probably,' his wife agreed, a small smile playing around her lips. 'But you're not an almighty god, love. You're just Harry, who has to be nagged to look at his mail, and who can't think straight before he's had his first cup of tea in the morning.'

Harry made a face at her last words, but he actually chuckled and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 'Thank you, love. I needed that.'

Ron regarded Daphne with a strange look on his face. 'You actually care about Harry, don't you? You're not a fangirl.' It sounded as if that was a new revelation to him.

Daphne snorted at his words as she snuggled against Harry. 'I never was. It's impossible to become a Potter fangirl when you're living in the dungeons. I had another set of misconceptions about this one that were completely shattered the moment I really talked to him for the first time.'

She exchanged a reminiscent smile with Harry at the memory of the night they had met.

Ron cleared his throat, bringing them back to reality. 'Good,' he said. 'Well, Malfoy Manor was Voldemort's headquarters. Lucky for us, he wasn't there, but the Malfoys were - and Bellatrix Lestrange.' He spat the last name.

Daphne shuddered. 'I've been told she was completely deranged,' she said.

'That's not covering half of it,' Ron replied darkly. He took another swig of his butterbeer. 'Hermione had jinxed Harry's face. He looked horrible, and they didn't recognise him or me, although I suspect that Malfoy did, but for once in his life did the decent thing and kept his mouth shut.'

Harry nodded to that.

'Confirming your identity amounted to signing your death sentence,' Daphne interjected. 'Draco's a slimy little piece of shite, but he hasn't in him to kill someone.'

'Well, Hermione wasn't that lucky,' Ron went on with his story. 'While Harry and I were held captive in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix tortured Hermione to learn about our whereabouts, and to find out what we were up to.' He closed his eyes. A violent shudder went through his body. Harry knew what he was thinking of. He also remembered the seemingly endless time in the dark cell, when they had to listen to Hermione's screams. 'She cast the Torture Curse on Hermione, again and again. We heard Hermione scream…' Ron's voice trailed off, and he gulped. 'You should've thought that by the number of curses and the power that madwoman put behind them her brain had turned to mush. Even under the Torture Curse, she managed to keep her wits about herself, and feed Bellatrix a story.' The pride in his words was evident.

Daphne listened with wide eyes, not realising that her hand clawed Harry's sweater.

'Harry and I managed to escape from the cell where we were held captive. How, that's a story for another day and a bottle of firewhisky.' Again, he took a swig of his butterbeer. 'When we reached the parlour where Bellatrix tortured Hermione, she just was finished with her, and was about to give Hermione to Greyback as a reward.'

Daphne let out a small whimper at that, her hand pressed before her mouth, and stared at Ron with wide open eyes.

'It didn't come to that. With the help of a friend, we managed to escape yet another time. However, Hermione was buried under the heavy chandelier of the parlour before that. Our friend apparated us away, to the cottage of my oldest brother, Bill, and his wife. We stayed there for a couple of weeks to recuperate, and prepare our next steps.'

He took a deep breath, and again rubbed his face with both hands. 'Hermione had been under the Torture Curse for a very long time, and suffered from the repercussions. Her nerves had been damaged, not to mention the trauma she'd been through. Fleur - that's my sister-in-law - did everything in her might to patch her up, but she isn't a Healer. All she could do was giving her Pepper-up Potion so that she could make it through the day, and Dreamless Sleep Potion so that she could sleep at night, and hope that time would help her to overcome it all. She still wasn't back to normal when we set out for our last, hair-raising adventure.'

'You mean the break-in at Gringotts?' Daphne asked.

Ron nodded. 'You told her about that, mate?'

Harry gave him a sheepish grin. 'It was somehow hard to avoid. Due to the way we got married, Daphne had become financially dependant on me. I had just left The Burrow and no idea about the state of my affairs with the goblins, except what Kingsley had told us directly after the Battle. Daphne pointed out that we both still had to finish our education, and that we'd better make sure if we had enough money to last us through the next couple of years. I had to take her to Gringotts to give her access to my vault, but I had no idea how the goblins would react to me turning up at the bank. So, I had to tell her about the break-in.'

They laughed about that. Daphne stood up and got them another round of butterbeer. Ron thanked her with a nod as he accepted his bottle, and then went on with his story.

'We had no time to catch our breath after our break-in at Gringotts. Voldemort now knew what we were doing, and he came after us. Harry found out that one of the things we still needed to bring him down was hidden at Hogwarts, so we went there.'

He took a sip of his butterbeer and glanced at Daphne. 'I've been told you were the only one of your house not to leave the castle when Slughorn evacuated the Slytherins, so I guess you know everything about what happened during the next hours. While the professors and students were preparing the castle for the fight, and then the Battle began, Harry, Hermione and I were taking care of the last of Voldemort's trinkets.'

Daphne frowned at his choice of words, but didn't interject.

'We made it through the battle almost without a scratch,' Ron went on. 'However, Hermione was deeply impacted by what Harry did to himself when he met Voldemort in the forest.'

Harry shifted in his seat. 'Actually, that's one of the things I haven't talked about with Daphne yet, and I guess she needs to hear it from me.'

'I thought as much,' Ron replied with a sad grin. 'I'd suggest you come clear with her soon, mate. There are definitely dumber things you can do than to confide in your wife, you know.'

Harry stared at him. 'Who are you, and what've you done with Ron Weasley?'

Ron chuckled at that. 'Actually, I have more than the emotional range of a teaspoon, no matter what Hermione told you, mate. I guess, even I had to grow up at some point and show it.'

Harry gave his friend a warm smile. 'I always knew you had, Ron,' he said softly.

Once again, Harry was thankful that his wife wasn't one to pry. She had listened to the exchange between him and Ron, but never uttered a word. He was aware of her thoughtful glance on him, and gave her a small smile. 'I'll tell you,' he promised.

'Whenever you're ready, love,' she replied, and kissed his cheek.

'After the battle came the funerals,' Ron continued. 'I'd lost one of my brothers during the battle, and I was a mess. Hermione and I'd got together during the battle, and she was there for me all the time.' His ears turned red at that.

Harry began to chuckle. His chuckles soon turned into a full blown laughter.

Daphne looked at him with raised eyebrows. 'What's so funny bout that?'

'I was there when they got together, you know. The battle had already started, and the castle shook under the attack. We were in the Room of Requirement. Ron said that someone should warn the house elves, so that they could get to safety. Well, you've seen on the train how Hermione's about house elf rights. She dropped everything she had in her hands, and leapt at Ron, and then kissed the living daylights out of him. Loverboy over there 'course got distracted by that, and replied in kind. I guess they'd have forgot everything about the battle, hadn't I reminded them.'

She joined his laughter. 'What did you do?'

'I shouted at them: Oi, there's a battle going on, or something like that; I'm still amazed I got through to them, but it worked.'

Ron had turned a spectacular shade of Weasley red during Harry's story, but joined their laughter. 'I guess, it was funny,' he admitted. 'After the funerals, Hermione and I left for Australia; she wanted to find her parents, and I didn't want to leave her alone. Harry opted to stay in England.'

'I didn't want to be the fifth wheel on the waggon,' Harry informed his friend. 'Also, I thought I could get back with Ginny.' He grimaced at his last words.

Ron gave him a curious look. 'You never told me why exactly you broke up with her. I asked her, of course, and she told me it was a misunderstanding. Somehow, I don't believe that. I'd really like to hear your side of the story, mate.'

Harry gave him a long look. 'You didn't sound like that when you sent me that Howler, Ron.'

His friend blushed. 'Sorry about that. Old habits die hard, I guess. My first thought when I heard about your marriage to Daphne was how devastated my sister must be about that. Remember, I told you never to hurt her again, and I just assumed you were the one to blame. It wasn't until later, after I talked to dad, Bill, and Percy, that I realised you weren't the only one to blame, but I still like to hear it from you.'

'That's only fair,' Harry conceded. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'Well, at first everything was great between Ginny and me. About a week after the funerals, she became somehow demanding. I felt weak, and I had nightmares each night; all I wanted to do was sleep a lot, rest, and get to know my godson.' He took a sip of his butterbeer, and stared into space for a long time, obviously lost in his memories.

'Well, Ginny wanted nothing of that. She didn't like to visit with Teddy and Andy, and she didn't want to stay at The Burrow day for day. You remember how it was in the weeks right after the battle, how the Aurors dropped laundry baskets full of mail at The Burrow that had been sent to the Ministry because Kingsley had announced that as our official mail address? Do you remember how many invitations the three of us got to parties from people we'd never heard of?'

Ron nodded to that, a pensieve expression on his face.

'The invitations continued after you'd left,' Harry informed his friend. 'I could've attended two parties each night, had I wanted to. Of course, I didn't. Ginny, on the other hand…' His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.

'She wanted to go out and party,' Ron finished the sentence for him. 'I've heard all about that from Bill; he was never one to sugarcoat things for us.'

'I wish I had a big brother like him,' Harry confirmed. 'Well, you know that Ginny and I are both short tempered. My refusal to leave The Burrow, and her constant nagging to attend the parties led to more than one spectacular fight. I think we never stopped fighting since the day you and Hermione left for Australia, until I finally had enough, and broke up with her.'

Ron regarded him with a long look, then took another swig from his bottle. 'I can see what made you do that, mate.' He put the bottle on the table, and grinned at Daphne and Harry. 'However, I still don't fully understand what made you two elope on the same day; I think there's more to that story than you told us so far.'

Harry and Daphne exchanged a reminiscent smile. 'There is, Ron,' Harry confirmed, and pulled Daphne closer towards him. 'But that's a story for another day; tonight I want to know what's the matter with Hermione.'

Ron's face lost the humorous look. A grim line appeared around his mouth. 'At first, everything was wonderful. We arrived in Australia, and started searching for Hermione's parents. We spent each minute of the day with each other, and I think I've never been that happy in my life.'

He pinked slightly, and Harry and Daphne exchanged a knowing look, but refrained from any comments.

'I thought we'd go on like that for the rest of our lives. That was until we found her parents.' He grabbed for the bottle on the table, but didn't drink. Instead, he kept the bottle in his hands, as if he needed something to hold on.

'Hermione restored the memories of her parents. That was the moment everything got pear shaped. Her parents were furious about what she'd done. They really pressed her hard about that Obliviation stuff. Her father even refused to talk to her for a week. When he finally spoke to her again, she got nothing but accusations from them. They then cut off the money, telling her she shouldn't have squandered all her savings on our idiotic and unnecessary adventure, as they called it. They were of the opinion we should've let the authorities deal with Voldemort.'

Harry snorted at that, but not out of amusement. 'In that case he probably would've taken over all of Europe by now, and would set out for overseas.'

'Most likely,' Ron agreed. 'But they didn't believe a word of what we told them. They accused us that we only wanted to skip school for a year, and fool around with their daughter. They got mad beyond belief when they heard that you spent a couple of weeks alone with Hermione in that tent while you were on the run, mate. Be glad you never heard the accusations Mr Granger made against you. As if you ever would've thought of touching Hermione, given the way you were pining for Ginny back then.'

He interrupted himself, and took a sip of his butterbeer. Harry didn't dare to look at him, afraid that the expression on his face would give him away to his best friend. Instead, he employed the calming exercises Daphne had shown him to maintain a bland face, thankful when she put her hand on his thigh in silent support.

'Then they sent her back to England. I know that Hermione writes to them every other day, but until now she never received a reply. It's eating her up, Harry,' Ron continued his story. 'She hasn't been the same ever since then. She's forever crying, and she's got problems to concentrate. Her magic has also suffered, though it's eventually getting better. Back in Australia, she wasn't able to perform the simplest spells for more than a week. I know that money's extremely tight for her. She's spent most of her savings during last year, and she had to arrange a loan with Headmistress McGonagall to get her through her last year, but even so she barely had enough left to pay for her supplies. Mum and dad can't help, either. They already had to take out loans to get all of us through Hogwarts, and will be paying for that for a long time to come. On top of that, she's pushing me back; I'm afraid she'll end it with me any day now.'

Ron sighed, and leaned back in his seat. Though he still had an unhappy expression on his face, Harry could see that it had done him good to unburden himself. Knowing his best friend, Harry was sure that he hadn't talked about this with anyone until now.

Silence settled down on the three young people in the room, that was finally broken by Daphne. 'I can see why she's struggling with her schoolwork; constant sorrows can have an impact on your magic. Take the reaction of her parents on top of that, and the trauma she's suffered from the war, and it's no surprise that she's under such a pressure that she can't perform well.'

'Tonks lost her Metamorphmagus abilities when she was heartbroken about Remus,' Harry agreed, running a hand through his hair. 'Mrs. Weasley said back then that an emotional upheaval can impact our magic.' He turned to his friend. 'Thank you for telling us, Ron, though I admit I'm at a loss about how to help her right now.' That wasn't entirely true, but he had to talk to Daphne first before he told Ron, or Hermione, about his plan.

'You can't help her, except being there for her,' Daphne interjected softly. 'She needs to come to grips with her parents on her own terms, and she also needs to overcome the shadows of the past. You can be there for her to support her, but everything else has to come from her.'

The two young men made a face at that, but didn't contradict her. Somehow, Harry had the impression that Daphne was also talking about him.

Not long after that, Ron took his leave.

Harry saw his friend out of the door, and then returned to the living room. Daphne still sat on the sofa, looking into the flames of the fireplace with a pensive look on her face. Miss Elizabeth Bennet had climbed on her lap, and she stroked the kitten absentmindedly. She looked up when he returned into the room, and put the kitten to the ground.

'You want to help her.' It wasn't a question, but a statement.

Harry sat down beside her, and propped his elbows on his knees, rubbing his face with the palms of his hand. 'Yeah,' he admitted. He looked at his wife. 'I owe it to her; she made sure that I survived last year. She made all the preparations for our time on the run I never would've thought of, even if I had had the opportunity to leave the Dursley's house. She used her savings for me, and she saved me from that snake on Christmas, and nourished me back to health. Without her, I'd be dead now, Daphne.' He didn't mention that he also still felt guilty because he had used her while they were on the run. He knew his wife was shrewd enough to come to that conclusion by herself.

Daphne leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. 'I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. In spite of what the W - Ron told us about their relationship, I still don't trust her when it comes to you.'

He put his arm around her, and tilted her chin up with a finger so that she had to look at him.

'You're jealous,' he stated.

Daphne bit her lips, trying to evade his eyes. 'Yeah,' she finally admitted.

'You know you don't have a reason for that, love.'

She looked even unhappier at that. 'I know.' Her words were barely audible.

Harry put his arms around her and held her tight. 'I won't do anything about Hermione without your consent, love,' he whispered into her hair.

Daphne didn't reply to that. She leaned against him for a long time, obviously considering his wish. Then she seemed to have come to a decision. She straightened, pushing him gently away from her, and looked up to him. 'How do you want to help her, Harry?'

'I thought of making her a member of the Black family, like the Dursleys. I think it'll be easier for her to accept money from me that way, instead of just giving her a bag of galleons.'

Daphne's eyes darkened at that, and Harry realised that he had just confirmed her worst fears. She took a deep breath. 'Alright.'

He looked at her as if not believing his ears. 'Did you just agree, Daphne?'

She made a face at that. 'Yes. Mind you, I don't like it in the slightest, but I also don't want you to beat yourself up about her.'

He pulled her towards him once again. 'Thank you, love; you have no idea what that means to me.'

Daphne leaned against him as he kissed her, running her hand through his hair, and hoping that her decision would never come back to bite her.

MY

Ron and Hermione didn't turn up for breakfast the next morning. Harry and Daphne had double Potions in the morning. The class was taken by all five Ravenclaws, and Ernie Macmillan as the lonesome Hufflepuff. Unfortunately, it was also one of the few classes they shared with Nott. He gave Daphne a polite bow when they reached the dungeons, but his eyes raked over her body in a way that made Harry's fists curl up on their own accord. Daphne slid her arm around his waist and leaned against him. 'Ignore him love; he does it on purpose to vex you.'

As Daphne had advised him, Harry ignored the Slytherin as they settled down at the workbench they shared with Terry and Lisa, but they both sent Ernie a sympathetic glance as Slughorn paired him up with Nott for the term.

'I'd like to get an overview where you stand,' Professor Slughorn began after the roll call. The class groaned as one. None of them was looking forward to another test.

'I'd like you to prepare a Potion that covers all the essential techniques of brewing. As homework, I want you to hand in an essay about the techniques you've applied, and why you chose them, and of course about the properties and the ingredients of that potion, but also the substitutes that can be used if not all ingredients are available,' Professor Slughorn told them. He tapped his wand to the blackboard. 'You'll find the recipe and the ingredients here. Begin.'

Harry groaned inwardly as he read the list of ingredients and the recipe. It sounded complicated, and he knew that without the book of the Half Blood Prince he didn't stand a chance to brew a halfway decent potion. He felt how Daphne touched his arm.

'Why don't you gather the ingredients while I copy the recipe, love?'

He nodded to that, and quickly jotted down the long list on a scrap of parchment. He had just finished that task, when the door to the potions lab flew open, and Ron and Hermione stormed into the room. The heads in the room jerked around to the newcomers almost as one, while Professor Slughorn looked at them with a deep frown on his jovial face.

'Miss Granger and Mr Weasley, five points from Gryffindor each for your tardiness. Take a seat here, where I can have an eye on you. Next time, I'd suggest to make it your first priority to arrive to your class in time, instead of taking a detour through a broom closet.'

A snigger went through the class. The deranged state of the clothing of his friends surely merited that suspicion, Harry thought. They both looked even worse than the day before. Knowing his friends, however, he was sure it was due to their habit to rely on him to get to classes in time in the morning.

Hermione turned a deep shade of red at Professor Slughorn's words, and she hurried to the place in the first row Professor Slughorn had indicated with her head hung low. Ron's ears shone like two beacons, and he looked as if he would like to give Professor Slughorn a piece of his mind, but then thought the better of it and followed Hermione without uttering a word.

Harry was impressed with his friend's newfound maturity. However, he needed to concentrate on the task at hand, so he walked toward the storage room. It took some time, and two returns to the classroom to deliver parts of his load, until he had everything on the list. When he returned, Daphne had not only copied the recipe, but already heated the amount of water that was needed, and begun to prepare the first ingredients. She shoved the Shrivelfigues towards him.

'Please, chop the Shrivelfigues and get the juice out of them. After that, you need to grind three porcupine quills to fine powder.'

One look at his wife and her deftly moving hands told him that she obviously knew what she was doing when it came to Potions, and he didn't mind in the slightest to be degraded to her hand. Remembering the instructions in the book of the Half Blood Prince, he managed to get an amazing amount of juice out of the Shrivelfigues, that had Daphne exclaim, 'How did you do that? I never get that much juice out of the damned things!'

'Trade secret,' he grinned, and started to grind the porcupine quills in his stone mortar. He took great pains to achieve the desired result - a very fine powder - and was rewarded by Daphne's approving smile and nod when he showed her the result.

She then set him to the task to supervise the time the potion was supposed to simmer, while she prepared the rat hearts. It was a difficile work. She had to separate the fibers, a feat Harry had never mastered. He didn't want to remember how many times Snape had given him detention for blotching up a potion because of that, he thought, while his eyes alternated between watching his wristwatch, and the graceful hands of his wife.

She finished the rat's heart fiber just in time, and added it to the potion in the exact right moment. The potion took on the shade of light blue it was supposed to have, and a light silver mist rose up from their shared cauldron.

'Excellent work, as usual, Mr Potter,' Professor Slughorn complimented him as he came to their workbench to supervise their progress.

'I had nothing to do with that; Daphne did all of the brewing,' Harry protested.

A chuckle shook Professor Slughorn's rotund body. 'That's very gallant of you, Mr Potter, to give your bride all the credit. Ah, to be a besotted young husband again!' Still chuckling, he turned away from them to look at Terry and Lisa's potion.

Harry turned to Daphne. 'I'm sorry, love.'

'Don't worry about that, Harry,' his wife smiled. 'The potion wouldn't have turned out that good, hadn't you managed to get that amount of juice out of the Shrivelfigues.'

There wasn't much more to do with their potion than to watch the time and stir it the required times clockwise and counterclockwise. Daphne showed Harry how to make a small mark in the rim of the cauldron with a temporary rune that allowed you to end the stirring exactly at the point where you had begun. He and Daphne then alternated stirring and watching the time.

They were the first to finish their potion. While Daphne brought their labelled phial to Professor Slughorn, who took it with a smile and a nod of approval, Harry started to clean their workbench. He let his eyes wander through the room while he did so.

All of his classmates seemed to be about in the last stages of brewing, with the exception of Ron and Hermione. They had started much later than the rest of them, and worked frantically to make up for lost time.

Even in normal circumstances, Ron was a lost cause when it came to potions, and Harry knew from experience that he was a danger to his partner as soon as he was under pressure. There had been a silent pact between Hermione and him that Ron was always partnered with her to prevent accidents.

Today, however, Hermione was acting like a headless chicken, if the disaster area the workbench in front of her looked like was anything to go by, and judging by the jerky movements she made while stirring the brown mud in their cauldron.

Harry saw it coming, but was too slow to prevent it. Hermione picked up the porcupine quills. They had forgot to ground them, Harry noticed. Instead of three, he counted at least five quills in her hand. Her hand moved to the cauldron.

Daphne, passing Ron and Hermione's workbench on her way back to her place, saw it at the same moment. 'Don't, Granger!' she shouted.

Every head in the room shot up, looking at Daphne and Hermione.

'What?' Hermione snapped back, and opened her hand to let the porcupine quills fall into the cauldron.

Harry watched them fall like in slow motion. He might not be as good at Potions as his wife, but even he knew that adding whole porcupine quills to an already botched up potion was a sure recipe to disaster.

And Daphne stood in front of the cauldron, unprotected.

The porcupine quills hit the surface of the potion.

Without thinking, his hands shot out. With one hand, he banished his wife back from the cauldron, and with the other hand he cast a dome-like shield over her.

At the same moment, the potion welled up like a geysir, covering Ron and Hermione's workbench with a thick, brown, acid-smelling mud.

Hermione and Ron had jumped back just in time, and now stared at the place where once had been their cauldron.

'That'll be zero marks for today, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger,' Harry heard Professor Slughorn's voice from far away. 'Fifty points from Gryffindor for a mistake even a first year knows to avoid, Miss Granger!'

Hermione stared at him, her face slowly turning a deep shade of red. She whirled around on the spot and stormed out of the room, leaving it to Ron to deal with the mess she had created.

Harry paid her no heed. His eyes were searching for Daphne. He let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding when he saw her struggling to sit up in the corner beside the entrance to Professor Slughorn's office.

He rushed to her and crouched down beside her. 'Easy there, love! Are you hurt?'

'Only my ego,' Daphne replied with a grimace. 'My behind will be blue and green by tomorrow. I suppose I have to thank you that the cauldron didn't explode into my face, haven't I? You could've added a Cushioning Charm, you know,' she said in a weak attempt of humour.

'Sorry about that, kitty,' Harry replied, and put his arm around her to help her up. 'I'll think of that the next time, though I sincerely hope it won't come to that.'

'Merlin, no,' Daphne agreed, using his arm to haul herself off the floor. 'But you owe me a massage for that tonight, Potter!'

'Deal,' Harry grinned.

MY

Neither Ron, nor Hermione showed up for lunch.

After the meal, the Potters, the Boots and Ernie decided to have a look at their new common room, and to work on their Potions assignment together.

'Wow,' Harry said as he walked into the spacious room. A row of tall lancet windows let in the sunshine, with cushioned window seats beneath them that made comfortable places for a game of chess or undisturbed talk. Two fireplaces flanked the huge room, and groups of chairs and sofas, scattered around low tables, invited the seventh years to gather for evenings of fun.

A lancet door lead into an adjoining room, and here the friends found tables and chairs for study. Bookcases with a small library provided the material needed for basic research. From there, another door led into a well warded training room.

Daphne linked arms with Harry. 'It seems Headmistress McGonagall really listened to you when you told her that there are more than enough empty rooms in this castle that could be put to good use.'

The group of five gathered around one of the tables in the study room and began to work. While Daphne, Terry and Lisa all made fast progress with their work, Harry and Ernie struggled. Lisa and Terry were already packing up their things and leaving for their own rooms, while Harry and Ernie were still brooding over their drafts.

'Will you let me have a look at what you've got so far?' Harry's concentration was interrupted by Daphne's voice.

'Huh?' He looked up. His hair was a mess, because he had clutched his hand in it more than once in his frustration about his lack of progress, and his glasses had slit down to the tip of his nose.

Daphne smiled, and pushed the glasses back to their original place with a finger. 'Your essay,' she then said, pointing to the piece of paper in front of him.

'Be my guest,' Harry sighed, and pushed the parchment towards her. 'I have no idea how to go on about this. I don't think I've covered all the techniques, and I'm at a complete loss when it comes to substitute ingredients.'

Ernie looked up from his work. 'Same here,' he admitted. 'Would you mind to have a look at my essay, too, Daphne?'

She nodded, a slight frown on her face, while she still read Harry's essay. When she was finished, she turned to Ernie's essay. The frown on her face deepened. Finally, Daphne looked up. 'Has nobody ever taught you the basics of potion brewing?' she asked.

Harry and Ernie exchanged an uneasy glance, both shifting in their seats.

'Err - I guess not,' Harry said. 'You know how Snape was; all he ever did was writing a recipe on the board and telling us to begin. It's not that he ever told us how or why we had to do things in a certain way.'

Daphne bit her lips. 'That's true,' she admitted. 'He limited that knowledge to the Slytherins. We all got tutored one afternoon a week in the Slytherin dorms by the older years, while Snape worked with the seventh years.'

'What?' Harry and Ernie shouted. 'You mean, he deprived three quarters of the school from a decent education in Potions to favour the Slytherins?' Ernie demanded clarification.

Daphne nodded to that. 'Unfortunately, yes.' She looked at the two young men in front of her. 'I've always assumed the other houses also had their system of tutoring to make up for that.'

'Hermione pulled me through,' Harry admitted, and Ernie said, 'I think I put in about ten hours a week revising for Potions.'

Daphne gave them a thoughtful look. 'I guess I have to make up for that.'

Over the next hour, Daphne explained to Harry and Ernie the different techniques to prepare ingredients and their pros and cons.

'Thank you, love, now a lot of that stuff makes more sense to me,' Harry said, and kissed his wife on the cheek.

'You can say that again,' Ernie agreed, rolling up the draft of his essay. ' I wish I'd known all that before the O.W.L.s. I was lucky that Slughorn became professor for Potions. Snape never would have accepted me with my grade.'

Harry nodded to that, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 'Same here. Do you mind to teach us some more, Daphne?'

She looked up to him, an impish grin on her face, as she linked arms with him to walk back to their rooms. 'Not at all. It's in my own interest, isn't it? I don't want you to spoil my potions grade. Not to mention, that you don't want to have to admit to your children one day that their mother beat you in every subject at your N.E.W.T.s.'

MY

Harry and Daphne decided to have dinner in the Great Hall that evening, since they had the prefect's meeting to lead after that.

Again, Seamus glared at them as they entered the Great Hall, so they decided to join Ernie and Morag at the Hufflepuff table.

'This is getting old,' Daphne groused as they walked over.

'Absolutely,' Harry agreed. 'That's Seamus for you; nobody ever claimed that he has sense.'

She laughed at that, her bout of bad humour passing as quickly as it had come.

Harry looked around as he sat down. Terry and Lisa obviously had opted to stay in their rooms for dinner. Ron sat next to Neville, and Dean and Luna had joined Seamus and Parvati at the Gryffindor table. Hermione, however, didn't turn up for dinner, either.

'Where've you been at lunch, Ron?' he asked his friend after dinner, as they ambled to the room where the meeting took place, together with Ernie.

Ron blushed, and scratched the back of his neck. 'Well, Slughorn wasn't exactly happy with me. He made me stay and clean up the mess. I missed lunch, and was even late for Divination because of that. I was lucky that Trelawny had hit the sherry bottle again and didn't notice. Oh, and Hermione has detention with Slughorn on Saturday, because she stormed off; I'm not looking forward to having to tell her that.'

Harry's head shot around to his friend. 'You haven't seen her since Potions?'

Ron shook his head. 'No, I was with Slughorn, then I had Divination. I looked for her in the library at study time, but she wasn't there. Since Slughorn's already mad at me, I decided to start with the Potions essay, and I worked until dinner.'

'Alright, mate, what happened to you? Doing your homework right away is so unlike you,' Harry demanded to know.

His friend turned red. 'You know, I really want to become an Auror. I've always depended on Hermione with my homework, but it looks like she'll has enough on her plate with her own problems this year. So, I have to rely on myself to get my homework done.'

Harry grabbed Ron's arm and squeezed it lightly. 'I always knew you had it in you, Ron.'

Daphne looked past Harry at the lanky redhead. 'I've been tutoring Harry and Ernie in Potions this afternoon, Ron. We're going to make that regular and you're welcome to join us.'

Ron's face brightened at that. 'Thank you, Daphne, that's mighty decent of you.'

They had reached the door to the meeting room while they talked. Harry and Daphne took their places at both ends of the long table, while Ron sat down next to Harry and began talking about the chances of the Chudley Cannons for the next Quidditch Championship. Ernie, who sat next to Ron, threw in his two Knuts now and then, while eventually the other prefects arrived.

At the appointed hour, Daphne looked at her wristwatch and frowned. Everyone was there, except Hermione. She looked at Harry across the length of the table, clearly unsure whether to begin or wait for another five minutes. Harry indicated to her with a motion of his head to begin.

As at the first meeting, he left it to Daphne to lead the meeting. The first point on their agenda was to work out a schedule for the patrols. Since the upperclassmen all had individual timetables, it was more than inconvenient that Hermione chose not to attend the meeting. Luckily, Ron knew her timetable, so they avoided to give her rounds on the nights she had Astronomy.

Another problem was that all of the seventh year prefects refused to make rounds with her. 'I'm not willing to put up with her until she's changed her attitude,' Susan Bones summed up the general opinion. 'The way she behaved to you on the first meeting was appalling.' The other seventh year prefects nodded to that, albeit Ernie also gave his cousin-in-law an apologetic look.

Ron saved the day. 'Put me down as her partner for all of Hermione's patrols, Daphne,' he said. 'I'm used to her temper, as is Harry, but I suppose he prefers to do his rounds with you. Can't separate our honeymooners, can we?'

That caused an uproarious laughter that cleared away the tension, and a visibly relieved Daphne went on with the boring organisational part.

They were already finished with the organisational matters, and just moved on to a discussion of Daphne's idea for monthly social activities that had been approved by the board of governors, when the door to the room flew open, and Hermione stormed in. Without a word of apology, or even greeting, she rushed to the only free seat, next to Susan Bones. Susan made a face, and moved her chair as far away as possible from Hermione.

'Granger, how nice to join us,' Daphne said. Her eyes stared icy daggers at Hermione.

Hermione only huffed in reply, which caused a lot of whispering among the prefects. Harry noticed that Tori threw Hermione a murderous glare, and then said something to Gideon, who put his hand on hers, as if to calm her down. Knowing the impulsiveness of his young sister-in-law, Harry had a sense of foreboding, but decided that Hermione brought on everything Tori might do to her by herself, considering how she behaved towards Daphne.

Daphne decided to ignore Hermione, and went on with the meeting. The idea of the monthly social events was met with a lot of enthusiasm by the prefects, especially the idea of a monthly dance.

'We could have different mottos,' Susan Bones suggested. 'For example, a Muggle dance club for September, a Halloween dance for October, a Yule Ball in December…'

'A Valentine's Dance in February,' Tori chimed in, smiling at Gideon in a way that made the young man blush, and Daphne throw a disapproving frown in her direction. Tori responded by sticking out her tongue at her older sister. Harry was not the only one at the table who chuckled about the exchange of the Greengrass sisters.

However, he groaned inwardly when Hermione opened her mouth. 'Do you think it a good idea to distract the older years frequently with dances, Greengrass?' she interrupted the lively discussion. It was as if she had poured a bucket of icy water over them; Harry was sure the temperature in the room dropped several degrees as soon as she talked. 'After all, the fifth and seventh years have important exams this year. The dances already cut into our study time, not to mention the preparations that are necessary for that.'

Daphne whirled round to Hermione. Her eyes became two blue steel balls as she glared at the bushy-haired witch. 'Firstly, it's Potter. I think you should be able to remember that, Granger, since I'm married to your best friend. Secondly, what's your problem with me? We never talked more than twenty words before I married Harry, but you've been against me ever since then.'

Hermione recoiled under her stare. The room went dead silent, and the prefects present stared alternately at Hermione and Daphne in a way that reminded Harry of a tennis match.

It didn't take Hermione long to recover from Daphne's attack. 'You should've never become head girl, you cheating snake. You don't stop at nothing to get your way; you proved that again this morning when you sabotaged my potion.'

That accusation caused a collective gasp in the room.

Harry had heard enough. 'You know that's not true, Hermione. You made a dangerous mistake, and Daphne tried to warn you.' He was proud that he managed to keep his voice calm, though he had balled his hands to fists beneath the table.

Hermione whirled around to him. 'Of course you'll take her side. Don't you realise that she's got you under her control, Harry?'

Something exploded within Harry. He shot up from his chair. A few long strides brought him to Hermione. He grabbed her by her upper arm, and hauled her off her seat. 'That's enough, Hermione; this time you've overstepped the mark.'

Hermione tried to shake off his hand, but he held her in an iron grip.

'Let go of me, Harry,' she demanded. 'You hurt me.'

He didn't listen, and frog-marched her towards the door. 'You and I are going to have a talk about your attitude.'

'Harry, you're unreasonable,' Hermione protested, and stemmed herself against him.

'I don't think so,' Harry said with clenched teeth, and ignored the fascinated terror he saw on the faces of the prefects, and the apprehension in Ron and Daphne's faces. Only Tori gave him a very satisfied and smug smile.

Hermione still tried to prevent him from dragging her out of the room. Harry had enough. 'MOVE! NOW!' he yelled at her, and Hermione jumped.

She was not the only one in the room.

Harry yanked the door open and pushed Hermione through. She almost stumbled out onto the hallway.

'Meeting adjoined,' Daphne said, and gathered her papers in an untidy heap. Then she jumped up and ran to the open door while Ron followed close at her heels.

The next second, the reverberating bang of the door of an adjoining room being slammed shut echoed through the hallway.

The assembled prefects looked at each other and excited talk broke out around the table.

t.b.c.