Daphne Greengrass was every bit the pureblood heiress. From a young age she was trained to act carefully, speak delicately and analyse everything. She was taught to keep her face blank, and her opinions to herself. She had grown up knowing that she would marry into a family with status equal to, or greater then her own, and her children would be raised to do the same.
Being placed in Slytherin was no surprise to the girl. Her mother was a Ravenclaw and her father, Slytherin. Both were from well off families who prided themselves on their status. Not their pureblood status, for there were many halfbloods, muggle borns and even a few muggles in both families, but their neutrality and wealth. The family walked in high social circles of both Dumbledore and Voldemort fanatics, and knew some very influential people.
So as Daphne was saying goodbye to her family as she left for Hogwarts for the first time, and her father took her by the shoulders, looked her in the eye and said,
"Make some friends," she knew what he really meant was,
"Make some allies." And when she nodded in response and saw the pride in his eyes, she couldn't help but smile.
Then she boarded the train and she found some girls with that same guarded look in their eyes, the same silent calculation, and as she sat with them, made small talk and laughed like she meant it, her eyes flickered to the quality of their robes, the polish of their shoes. She remembered the family names, whether they were first born, siblings, It was all noted down in her mind. She did it automatically.
Her father had always told her that if she didn't like something, she should distance herself, take no part in whatever was happening, but never, never get involved. You would just make yourself enemies. When first taught this, she agreed whole heartedly, why make things harder for yourself?
That was before she met Harry Potter. Upon first bumping into him (literally) she had, as usual, taken everything about him into account. She knew his name, obviously, someone who goes by the name of Potter would never slip past her radar, but she looked at his expensive robes, shirt untucked, hair thick and Potter-style wild and thought he looked like the perfect potter heir. Features sharp and aristocratic, and that familiar tilt to the chin, the one that many self assured purebloods had. As they walked to breakfast, she took in his confident swagger and wondered how the straight laced Potters had managed to produce this arrogant boy. Despite his overconfidence though, she found him bearable, amusing even. It was the first time she'd misjudged someone.
She hardly knew Neville Longbottom. The boy had never stood out to her. She had seen him in official gatherings, but he never strayed far enough from his Grandmother's side for her to approach him. From what she had seen however, he was a quiet and kind boy. Enough to gain a mild sense of respect from Daphne. So when Harry James Potter swaggered up to him on their first free period, closely followed by Marcus Flint and the Weasley twins. She had to struggle to keep her face blank, and when they began to taunt the boy, she bit her lip. Tracy Davies, her closest friend so far since she joined the school, looked at her worriedly. When the boys drew their wands, Daphne closed her eyes, and she felt Tracy's hand grip hers. They were in the same boat.
"Stop!" cried a voice, and Daphne dared to open her eyes, a pretty girl with long chocolate brown hair stormed up to them. She had fire in her eyes as she glared at the boys. The Weasley twins had the decency to look at the ground, but Potter and Flint leaned against a tree and looked at the girl challengingly.
"Leave him alone!" she yelled, grabbing Neville by the hand and dragging him to his feet. The boy had an ugly bruise forming on his cheek. Daphne wondered who gave him that, which of the boys?
"Longbottom's got a girlfriend!" cooed Flint, Potter smirked,
"Not sure which one's the girl in that relationship." The boys sniggered and the girl raised her wand angrily. Within moments all four boys had her at wandpoint.
"Drop the wand." Said Fred or George Weasley, Daphne wasn't sure which. The girl didn't. Flint, sneered,
"So that's how it's going to be, eh? Sectum Se-"
"That's enough!" Daphne shrieked, she knew what spell Flint was about to cast. The girl was obviously wouldn't know the counter.
"Stay out of this, Greengrass." Snapped Flint, raising his wand once again. Daphne felt dread coil in her stomach, she glanced at the girls behind her. They were still sitting on the grass, books discarded around them, she saw her own inner turmoil reflected in their eyes. Just ignore it, or stop it? Daphne glanced once again towards the girl and Neville, her eyes were green, she noticed, flecked with gold. They were wide and as they looked at her she felt a silent plea.
"Help me." For the first time in her life, she went against something her father had said. She hated it. Hated Potter and Flint and the Weasley's for doing it to her. As Flint began he incantation that no first year should know, she raised her wand.
"Expeliarmus!" she shouted four times. The boy's wands flew from there hands and landed at her feet. They glared at her furiously and moved towards the wands.
"Stupify" came three voices, Potter, Flint and a Weasley fell, Daphne stunned the fourth and turned, her friends were on their feet, because they were her friends.
"Thank you." She said. So much was unspoken in those two words, and the girls, the Proper Pureblood Women smiled at her. For the first time ever, Daphne properly smiled at a non family member. Three non family members, in fact.
