Harry Potter found himself standing opposite an expectant Daphne Greengrass, inside an empty classroom on the third floor. Harry had reminded her of Dumbledore's rather ominous warning during the start-of-term feast, to which the girl had just stared back at him with challenging eyes.

"It's not like we're actually in the forbidden corridor." she said, sneering at him.

"Well, Potter. Teach!" she then demanded, and Harry decided now was the time to begin countering her attitude. After all, there was no better way to get to know someone than by riling them up, and if he was going to waste time on her she had better provide something of equal value in return.

He wagged a finger in front of her face patronizingly.

"Hold on, Greengrass. I told you this would happen under my terms, didn't I?"

Her eyes narrowed, but she eventually nodded in agreement.

"Glad to see we're on the same page. Now, my first condition for our continued partnership is that you refer to me as 'Professor Potter' at all times."

"I'd rather die." she answered coldly, clearly not taking him seriously. Unfortunately for her, he was serious, although he would not object if she suddenly decided that pestering him was not worth the trouble anymore.

"Excellent!" Harry said happily, and began to walk towards the door. He was glad to have found such an easy way to get out of this strange deal.

"Wait!"

His palm had only brushed against the handle when she called out for him. He turned around; an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Alright. I'll do it." she said. He could clearly see the annoyance written across her face, and cheered internally at already having broken down her mask.

"Just to make it clear…" Harry began. "I really do mean at all times. That means here, of course, but also in the common room, during lunch, in the hallways, with other people - everywhere."

Greengrass' lips pursed, and she seemed ready to protest before her ambition got the better of her.

"I see why the hat placed you in Slytherin, Professor Potter."

Really, Harry was only having a bit of fun. But if she chose to see it as cunning or whatnot, who was he to disagree? He struggled not to laugh at the title and put on his best 'professor face', striding around the classroom in what he hoped to be a manner reminiscent of Snape.

"Miss Greengrass. You have chosen to learn the most obscure and complex of arcane arts… Wandless magic."

Harry paused dramatically in front of her, ignoring the sarcastic rolling of her eyes.

"As such, I do not expect you to have fully grasped the extent of the journey you are embarking on… Nor do I believe you have an understanding of what it takes to succeed."

At that, he was taken aback by the sheer intensity in her eyes. Harry was almost fascinated by the icy blue orbs, which now shone brightly with steadily growing determination.

"However," he continued, staring back deeply into her eyes. "For those select few… who possess, the predisposition…"

He straightened himself, trying to appear as tall and imposing as was physically possible for a boy of his age, and pulled his robes tightly around his body.

"I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can show you the path to unfathomable power, at the tips of your fingers… The very essence of magic itself…"

Harry wondered if it was his imagination, or if Greengrass actually edged closer to him. It was difficult to tell, with the way her eyes seemed to pull everything toward her, including him.

"Please do, Professor Potter.", she whispered.

At first, Daphne considered the pleasure she would feel from smacking Potter in his smug jaw, comparing it to the benefit of learning wandless magic. Eventually she came to the conclusion that the latter was worth more to her. Of course, nothing prevented her from smacking Potter in his smug jaw after he had taught her everything he had to offer.

And so, she decided to play along with his silly game until he was of no further use to her. It still astounded her, however, that Harry Potter, the supposed beacon of light, was a Slytherin. Not only in name, but also in mind.

Aside from herself, Daphne reluctantly admitted that Potter was probably the most Slytherin person in the castle, upper years included. He had even managed to momentarily break her carefully constructed mask; something she would have allowed no one else to get away with.

Daphne knew she was ruled by a single ambition – to be the best. She would rise above all and become the greatest witch to ever set foot on the face of the Earth. She would undo the curse that had plagued her family for centuries, and make sure that her little sister would be able to live the life that she deserved.

That, she swore to accomplish. It was her ambition, her goal, and she would fulfill it through any means. Even if it happened to require her to momentarily cast away her pride.

When 'Professor Potter' began his little introductory speech, she had rolled her eyes at his – admittedly rather accurate – impression of Snape. It was only that, though, an impression. Nothing he said held any actual value. At least, that was what Daphne had thought. When he then dared to challenge her ambition, she had glared fiercely at him in return. No one had the right to look down on her.

She thought he recognized her determination, because the boy went on to explain all that he could share with her. It was then that she grew uncertain; he spoke with such conviction and passion in that moment, that she could honestly not tell if it was merely a part of his act or the actual truth.

After all, everyone knew that Harry Potter was special. How else could he have defeated the most powerful Dark Lord in over a millennium as a mere baby?

Everyone knew that Harry Potter had received special training; that he had been raised in secret and taught forbidden magics to reach his full potential.

Everyone knew that Harry Potter was different, separate from them, who were all but mere mortals. He was supposed to be Merlin reborn, destined to mold the world in his image.

Once he finished his speech, Daphne found herself leaning closer in wonder, more excited about the prospect of learning wandless magic than ever.

He made an offer, and she readily accepted it.

"Please do, Professor Potter."

"Alright, whatever." Harry said, nonchalantly waving his hand and grabbing two chairs from the stack along one of the walls.

He dragged them back over to where Greengrass was standing, still looking like she was under some sort of trance. Harry snapped his fingers in front of her face a couple of times, until she finally caught up with reality.

"Have a seat." he said, pointing to one of the chairs. She sat down, and he did the same.

"So, when I first started off doing wandless magic, it was all based on my accidental magic. Simple things like the color-changing charm you saw me do in potions, to more difficult stuff like apparition."

He made sure to leave gaps large enough that Greengrass would undoubtedly fill them out with plenty of incorrect assumptions.

"You… can apparate?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Yeah." he confirmed, shrugging indifferently. "First time happened by accident when I was six."

Her eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head, something Harry found increasingly hilarious.

"Anyway, do you remember what kind of accidental magic you've done?"

Greengrass gained a thoughtful expression, and her face scrunched in concentration. "I do remember one time. It was during winter and I was at home, in the manor, when my mother wouldn't let me play outside. She said it was too icy and slippery, and that I could fall and get hurt."

Harry nodded and silently encouraged her to go on.

"The ice was the reason I wanted to play outside. I'd seen other children sliding on it while at a Yule fair. I- I got mad when mother didn't budge, and froze over the entire hallway floor."

Was that a blush on her cheeks? Harry listened to the end of her story with amusement, and could not help but laugh. It just fit Daphne Greengrass so perfectly.

"Don't laugh at me, Professor. It's unbecoming of a member of the staff."

He only laughed harder at that.

"Alright." he said, the word being punctuated by a quick snort. "In any case, I think we've found a good place to start."

She looked at him inquiringly.

"Ice, of course. You seem to have an… affinity for it." he explained, and then chortled again.

"This will be your homework, Miss Greengrass. I want a three-foot parchment on the details of ice; its composition, how it feels, how you felt while freezing over your manor, and so on and so forth. Anything and everything regarding ice is to be included, no matter how trivial you may find it to be. Your assignment is due next Monday, and yes, that means you'll have to work over the weekend."

"Yes, Professor Potter.", Greengrass responded dutifully.

Harry found he quite enjoyed assuming the role of a professor. Maybe he would pursue a career in academics.

"Good. Now let's go get some lunch. I'm starving."

Daphne could hardly believe Potter had actually given her homework. The impudence of the boy was enough to grate her nerves.

At least he appeared to know what he was doing.

The power of ice was very tempting to her. She imagined what it would be like to freeze Potter in his tracks, beginning with his feet and working her way up his body until he begged for mercy. She doubted he would dare assign her any homework if he were frozen into a solid block of ice.

"Greengrass, stop daydreaming about assaulting me."

Daphne jumped at his words, adding mind reading to his list of possible powers.

"No. You're just really similar to another witch I know when you don't bother hiding your emotions. Very easy to read."

In a rare moment of horror, Daphne realized she had completely forgotten about her mask. Potter was already getting to her, and this way her carefully constructed plan of creating a reputation as Slytherin's unapproachable queen would come crashing down. She quickly settled her face into its regular expression of apathy, with only a tinge of superiority shining through. It would not do to have the rabble think they could be sociable with her.

That would only distract her from her goal.

Potter pouted disappointedly from beside her as they turned a corner around the end of one of the third floor corridors, waiting for the staircase to spin and dock at their feet.

"It's no fun when you do that, Greengrass. Actually, scratch that. I'm getting tired of calling you by your last name. Henceforth, you shall be known as Darth… Glacia."

Daphne wondered what he was on about. Glacia was not too bad of a nickname, even if she would refuse to acknowledge it out of principle. With her rudimentary understanding of Latin, she figured it had something to do with ice.

"Hey, Glacia, as your next assignment from your awesome and talented professor, you're going to sit with me at the Gryffindor table for lunch today."

Which each step she took, Daphne could feel her plans crumbling to dust. At this point, she considered if the end goal was truly worth the sacrifice of having to endure Harry Potter for seven years. It was the first time she felt genuinely conflicted.

So conflicted, in fact, that she did not even register Potter's arm reaching around her own and leading her through the Great Hall and over to the Gryffindor table. She did, however, notice when he began piling a random assortment of foods onto two different plates and placed one of them in front of her.

"Mione, meet my newly dubbed Sith Apprentice, Darth Glacia. Glacia, this is Hermione, my friend in Gryffindor."

Daphne then also noticed she was sitting between Harry and a rather flustered Gryffindor girl with thick, bushy hair.

"Oh, right! I almost forgot…" Harry said, while stuffing a whole potato into his mouth.

"Bon appétit!"