A/N: Harry/Daphne is my OTP and I wanted to try my hand at HP fanfiction. I realize this has probably been done to death I admit I couldn't help but use several clichés along the way, but I'm pretty happy with the result anyway. Hope you enjoy =)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all recognized characters belong to J. K. Rowling. I'm merely playing in her sandbox.

"Potter."

Harry turned to face the voice from behind him, and his eyebrows shot to his hairline as he recognized the girl standing before him. Beside him, Ron made a noise that Harry couldn't quite tell if it was from appreciation or shock at seeing a Slytherin openly addressing Harry Potter without hurling some sort of insult.

Daphne Greengrass was beautiful. That was an undisputable fact even among the Gryffindor boys. With the light blonde hair falling in waves down to her back, her bright green eyes, full lips, and aristocratic features, she was easily one of the prettiest girls in the school. Harry would go as far as to say she was even prettier than Ginny.

"Greengrass," he said cautiously. "What can I do for you?"

"I need your help."

"Help? From me?"

Greengrass' eyebrows pinched together. "Yes, unfortunately for me there is only one Harry Potter currently in this school."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "If Malfoy put you on this—"

"No, Potter, I came here for my own interests. Coincidentally, however, this discussion has to do with Malfoy."

The Gryffindor shook his head, utterly lost now. He'd known Daphne Greegrass for six years, shared classes with her, saw her at the Slug Club, but had never actually exchanged more than ten words with her since starting first year. And although he was the one person in this castle to dismiss rumours immediately, knowing most of them were exaggerated or outright fabricated, he was starting to see why their classmates called her that childish Ice Queen moniker: she was straightforward and had this kind of aura that almost screamed zero bullshit tolerance.

She certainly didn't let on what she was thinking because her face was, for the lack of better word, emotionless. Harry considered himself to be a good judge of people's character, but he really couldn't figure Greengrass out.

"Right…" he said slowly. "Er… let's get to a classroom or something, not just stand here in the middle of the corridor."

"Of course."

"Mate?" Ron nudged his side. Both he and Hermione were staring at him.

"Go on to the Great Hall, I'll catch up to you in a while," Harry said, flashing a pointed look at Hermione. "It won't take long."

Neither of them looked particularly happy about this, but thankfully didn't start an argument Harry wouldn't have been able to prevent. He imagined he was in for it later, though. The idea made almost made him groan out loud. His hopes for a normal school day were quickly taking a quick dive out of the Astronomy Tower.

Greengrass nodded as Ron and Hermione walked past her, her eyes never leaving Harry's. "There is an empty Charms classroom by the Grand Staircase that's obscured by numerous stone statues. It should do."

"Right. Lead the way?"

Harry was truly out of his depth here. Daphne Greengrass was an enigma at best and he had no clue if he should stay or guard or trust her: he'd never seen her hang around Malfoy's gang or talk down to muggle-born, which won her brownie points in Harry's book, but she could be Voldemort in disguise and he wouldn't know. He'd only ever seen her interact with Tracey Davis outside of lessons.

He slipped his wand to his sleeve, just in case.

The classroom door clicked shut behind them and he saw Greengrass raise her wand. He tensed, a Shield Charm ready on his lips, but he realized that she was waving it at the doorway and muttering under her breath. She tucked her wand back into her robes and arched an eyebrow.

"Locking and Silencing Charms, Potter. Unlike most of my classmates, I wouldn't waste my lunch time to curse you."

Harry felt his cheeks burning. He really didn't appreciate how transparent he was to a girl he barely knew beyond name.

"All right, we're here. What's this to do with Malfoy and you needing my help?" he asked to save-face.

Greengrass smirked—the first sign of emotion Harry had ever seen her display, and it almost made her look somewhat threatening—almost as if knowing exactly what he was trying to do. It didn't make him feel any better.

"Like I said, I need your help. I wouldn't have come if I had any other option left, but I suppose I could've been stuck with pervert who only wanted to get into my knickers."

Harry was under the impression that he should be offended by that statement, but he was too confused to think too much about it at the moment. "Okay…?"

Greengrass sighed. "Look, Potter, I'm going to jump straight to the point and say I need a… a partner."

"A partner for class or something?"

Her lip curled in irritation. "No, you dimwit. For Slughorn's party."

"…and how does that have to do with Malfoy?"

"I'm getting there. Come on, Potter, everyone knows you're not as much of a dunderhead as Professor Snape makes you out to be."

Now Harry did feel offended, but unfortunately for him Greengrass plunged on: "You see, Malfoy has been trying to court me since fourth year, only for me to turn him down every time. Last year, he—like always—roped his father into asking my hand in marriage by my father. My father, of course, firmly but polite declined the offer, seeing how the Greengrasses don't consort with Death Eater scum. As you can imagine, Malfoy junior didn't take well to that."

Harry nodded. He'd read up a book on wizarding customs earlier in the year and had come across the process of marriage contracts. The concept had seemed old-fashioned, but then he remembered that the wizarding world was quite a few decades behind when it came to the muggle world.

"However, even with his father in jail, his attempts to woo me haven't ceased. If anything, he has resorted to threatening, and you and I both know the kind of people he gallivants around with," she remarked, Harry nodding darkly. "When Professor Slughorn announced the Christmas party he was going to host earlier this month, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to stop Malfoy's pursuits once and for all if I attended the party with another boy. This is where you come in."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Potter," Greengrass said with the deliberate slowness of someone talking to a particularly dim child, "I want you to escort me to the party."

Harry almost stumbled on his own two feet, and he was vaguely aware of the squeak that came out of his throat in the form of a "What!?"

She rolled her beautiful eyes. "Merlin, you are completely hopeless. You. Me. Slughorn's party. Together. How much simpler can I put it?"

"Hold the phone!" he ran a hand through his hair, eyes as wide as dinner plates. "You want me to take you to the party?"

"Yes."

"To throw Malfoy off you scent?"

"Yes, that is about right."

"Bloody hell." He dropped his hands and stared. She was a Slytherin, he'd give her that. "Before I ask anything else, why me? Why not… literally any other boy in this castle?"

"Isn't it obvious? At the risk of sounding vain, most boys our age would jump at the chance in hopes to get a good snog out of it, but you are a known gentleman and it's not in your character to lead a girl on. Also, that you and Malfoy have this childish rivalry only sweetens the deal." She smiled: it was beautiful, full of pearly white teeth. Harry swallowed. "And you are quite cute, which is an added bonus."

Harry gaped. He couldn't tell if she was being serious or messing around with him purely to see him squirm. Either way, it was working wonders because he could the heat creeping up to his cheeks and ears to the point where he was sure he'd turned an impressive Weasley red.

"Er… th-thank you, I guess…?"

Greengrass smirked again. "I could let this go on just to see Dumbledore's Golden Boy stutter, but contrary to popular belief I'm not that vindictive unless provoked, and I've got better things to do." She tucked a lock of golden hair behind her ear. "So what do you say, Potter?"

Harry gathered himself at the reminder of what he was being asked to do. "If I agree, what's in it for me, Greengrass? I had plans for the ball and you coming in and asking me for something like this doesn't exactly pan out well." Well, he hadn't really planned to go, but he quickly realized it may not turn out in his favour if he wanted to get that blasted memory from Slughorn. But the only girl he was willing to ask was already taken…

The blonde girl eyed him appraisingly. "You surprise me, Potter."

"I'll take that as a good thing."

"Well, how about this? It is quite obvious you are after the affections of Ginny Weasley"—Harry almost choked—"so by escorting me, I'm willing to pretend to be your girlfriend so that she will become jealous and wish to date you. You want to win Weasley's affections, I want to fend off Malfoy. It's a win-win situation that I'm certain will benefit both of us. So what is your answer going to be?"

She offered a hand. Harry stared at it, mind reeling. He didn't want to admit that her insane plan might just actually work. Greengrass was an incredibly beautiful girl and anyone would wish to be in his shoes right now. Then again, a lot of people wished to be in Harry Potter's shoes.

What did he have to lose?

"So what the bloody hell was that about?" Ron was upon him as soon as Harry was within three feet of him and Hermione. Dumping his school bag on the empty seat beside him, the dark-haired Gryffindor dropped next to Ron and across from Hermione.

He started filling his plate, very much aware of the looks his best friends were giving him.

"She wanted a… favour."

Ron scrunched up his face. "What kind of favour?"

He was unsure of how much to tell them. They hadn't exactly met a "friendly" Slytherin before and would immediately jump into the worst kind of conclusions, which would probably affect him in turn, which, in turn, lead him to chicken out—

He halted his thoughts right there, because he knew if he thought too much about he would end up calling an end to Greengrass' deal.

He reckoned he could tell them the general gist of it. There was no way he was saying anything about Ginny to Ron, though.

"Er… she wanted me to escort her to Slughorn's Christmas party," he mumbled.

Ron's fork stopped mid-air: "Come again?"

Harry darted his eyes heavenwards, almost afraid of Ron's reaction. "She wanted me to escort her to Slughorn's Christmas party," he repeated.

"WHAT!?"

Ron's ears burned red as almost everyone in the Great Hall swiveled around to throw him curious looks. Harry buried his face in his hands and didn't dare glance in Ginny's direction from further down the Gryffindor table.

When the on-lookers finally decided that the show was over, Harry grumbled: "Oh yeah, mate, go on, why don't you let the whole castle know?"

"Sorry, sorry, but what the bloody hell, Harry!?" Ron hissed in his ear, flapping his arms so wildly he almost knocked Harry's glances off of his face. "She's a bloody Slytherin, mate! And you agreed? She's prolly trying to sell you out to Malfoy, or... or You-Know-Who! You said it for yourself that the git was acting weird!"

Harry felt a flash of irritation travel through him. "Just because she's a Slytherin doesn't mean she's out to get me, Ron."

Ron continued to gape at him.

"Personally, I'm not allergic to all things Slytherin," Hermione began with a small glare towards their redheaded friend, "but Ron does have a point, Harry. Why ask you? She's beautiful, talented, and smart and she could have any boy she wanted. It seems a little out of the blue." She looked curious.

Harry glanced at the Slytherin table, easily spotting Daphne's blonde hair amidst the sea of green and silver sitting next to a short-haired girl with freckles—Tracey Davis, his mind supplied—and chatting animatedly.

"Malfoy keeps bothering her for a marriage contract, and she wants to get rid of him," he said at last, mindful to keep his voice down for prying ears. "And since Malfoy and I don't… see each other eye-for-eye, she said it'd be perfect to throw him off."

Ron snorted and took another huge bite of his chicken wing. Across from him, Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Trust a Slytherin to think this way. Though I reckon I'd probably be just as desperate to get rid of the ferret as her."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ronald, it's disgusting," Hermione chided.

"Lemme eat my 'ood, 'mione," the redhead mumbled around another mouthful. Hermione scowled and rounded back on Harry.

"And what did convince you to agree?" she asked. As Harry opened his mouth, she continued, "Save your breath, Harry. I can tell from your face that you already agreed."

The Gryffindor clicked his mouth shut, embarrassed at having being caught. "Erm..." There's no way I'm telling them about Ginny. "Well, I need to get close to Slughorn, and this will be perfect opportunity to corner him."

"I thought you weren't planning on going?"

"Yeah, but since I have a kinda-sorta date now, I figured why not?" He took a nimble bite of his chicken wing. "Is the interrogation over yet or not?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and returned to her book. Ron, however, shook his head.

"Can't believe you agreed to go with a snake, but I reckon she's not that bad-looking. Imagine if it had been Parkinson," he remarked, shuddering.

Harry grimaced, stealing another glance at the Slytherin table. No, Pansy Parkinson had nothing on Daphne Greegrass, that was for sure. Even if Greengrass had been a plain, ordinary girl, Parkinson would still hold no candle to her based on her ugly personality alone.

He didn't add to Ron's comment and kept on eating, his mind on the peculiar girl that was Daphne Greengrass.

Harry stood near the wall that was the entrance to the Room of Requirement, waiting for Greengrass to arrive. They'd given rendezvous in five minutes from now so they could go over the semantics of their "date," and Harry was a bit of a wreck. He wasn't sure how this whole ordeal was going to end up, or even if he and Greengrass got on well enough to pull this off. And frankly the idea of dealing with a Slytherin made him nervous. Malfoy quite obviously didn't act like a true Slytherin did—if anything, he acted more like a Gryffindor most of the time—but Greengrass was different. If cunning, ambition, and resourcefulness had a human body, it would be Greengrass.

Harry tapped his foot as the minutes counted down. She had to be on her way now. Part of him wanted to say screw it, I'm out of this because he was in no way equipped to talk to a girl like Greengrass, but a larger part of him remembered seeing Ginny slobbering up to Dean and his resolve strengthened.

He spotted Greengrass' signature blonde hair easily as she walked down the length of the corridor towards Harry. He quickly stuffed his wand in his jeans' pocket, within reach just in case, and waved a hand awkwardly as she approached. She inclined her head when she was close enough. "Potter."

"Greengrass."

Harry didn't make a habit out of staring like most of his male classmates, but a girl like Greengrass drew attention like moths were drawn to flames: she'd elected to forgo their school uniform and was wrapped up in a green jumper that matched her eyes and a black skirt that reached just above her knees.

"You may call me Daphne, Potter. We are parading as a couple, after all."

"Well, you can call me Harry."

Greengra—Daphne nodded in acknowledgement, the looked around. "Where are we going? As far as I know there are no classrooms or secret passageways on the seventh floor."

"Watch this," Harry said, starting to pace up and down the corridor in front of the blank wall across from them. He could almost feel Greengrass' confusion radiating off of her as he shut his eyes concentrated on summoning the Room of Requirement. I need a place where I can talk with Daphne. I need a place where I can talk with Daphne.

On his third trip down the corridor, the previously picture-less wall began to form in the shape of an old-fashioned door with rusty handles.

He turned to Daphne: her face was perfectly expressionless, like always, but Harry recognized the glint of curiosity swimming in her green eyes. She reminded him of Hermione whenever she would get a new idea, or when she started ranting about S.P.E.W.

"What is this place?" Daphne asked as they crossed the threshold. It was large, with a fireplace, a faded red carpet, and various sofas and armchairs strewn about, fashioned after the Gryffindor common room.

"This is the Room of Requirement," Harry said, brandishing a hand at his surroundings. "Not many people know about it. Mostly Gryffindors and a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. I don't think even the teachers know about it aside Dumbledore. Just… er… try not to let this get out, yeah?"

Daphne nodded distractedly, running her fingers over the back of a sofa. "How do you summon it?"

"Oh… you just pace up and down the corridor three times, and think really hard about what you need it to be. It… well, it shows up if it works."

"Fascinating." Daphne looked around, then elected to sit on the sofa closest to the fireplace. Harry took this as an invitation to sit down as well. Daphne on one end, him on the other.

He rubbed his palms against his jeans, awkward. "So… um… Daphne—"

"You have questions."

Harry grimaced. "How—"

"It's understandable, really. I mean, I did approach you out of nowhere when I spent five years basically ignoring you."

"…yeah, that's about right." He felt so out of his depth with her. He didn't know if he should be intrigued or irritated that she could read him so easily.

"I must admit, part of it was desperation," Daphne admitted, frowning. "I told you about my problems with Malfoy. If I continued to resist him, he would likely try to manipulate me by using my little sister, and while Astoria is perfectly capable of defending herself, she's still more susceptible to manipulation than me. In no time Death Eaters would be knocking on our door."

"And the other part?"

"Well," the blonde sat back, twirling a lock of her hair around her wrist, "the other part just wanted to have fun for once. It's exhausting it is to keep up the Ice Queen façade all the time." She cocked her head and smirked at Harry. He decided it was kind of terrifying. "Like I said, you're a gentleman and I'm likely to have a good evening regardless of who you are. Tracey never shuts up about your Gryffindor chivalry."

Harry felt his cheeks burn. Straightforward with no mercy, this girl was. "Well, that explains why me, I reckon…"

"But we should get to know each other," Daphne continued unperturbed. "We're going together, so it's only natural we know a little about our partner before the party."

"Um…" He licked his lips, nervous. "Sure?"

Daphne must've seen his inner struggles because she smiled: it made her eyes light up and softened her features. Harry decided that smiling suited her.

"All right, tell me something about yourself. Anything."

"Right," Harry said, darting his eyes about as if hoping something would enlighten him. "I like Quidditch?"

Daphne snorted. "Quidditch… Merlin, Potter, you have no clue how to talk to girls, do you?"

"Oh thanks."

"Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad thing, though I can see why you and Chang didn't work out."

Harry snapped around to face her. "How do you—"

"A Slytherin has her ways. But here, let me help you by starting instead." She cleared her throat and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "My name is Daphne Victoria Greengrass, I have a little sister in fourth year named Astoria, my favourite dessert is treacle tart, and I prefer a few friends as opposed to a large social circle."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. She'd said everything and nothing about her at once. "Treacle tart, huh?"

"Really, out of everything I just said you're curious about the treacle tart?" Daphne asked, amused. His lips twitched.

"Touché, Greengrass." Feeling slightly less awkward, he rubbed his arms together and frowned thoughtfully. "Okay, my turn. My name is Harry James Potter, I… um… love Quidditch"—Daphne rolled her eyes, smiling—"my favourite subjects are Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration, and… er… I've run out of things to say…"

"Harry Potter running out of things to say?"

"Well, in my defence, my life is not that exciting."

Daphne scoffed. "Please, your shenanigans every year beg to differ."

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't actively go looking for trouble."

"That much is obvious, but even you have to admit that it's getting ridiculous. Every year there is some unseen danger, and every time, you, without fail, prevent the castle from collapsing in on itself. This year's must be a new record."

"Aren't you exaggerating a bit?"

Daphne shot him a bland look. "First year, whatever it was that got you a fat load of house points. Second year, Chamber of Secrets. Third year, Sirius Black—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Harry cut her off sourly. She had a point there. It was almost bizarre how his life being in constant danger had become such a normal part of it.

For a minute, the only sound came from the flames crackling in the fireplace. Daphne looked comfortable in her own skin even as the silence stretched between them and Harry's nervousness began rearing its ugly head again. She was a most peculiar girl, and he had to admit that he was curious. He knew what to expect from the majority of girls in the castle—and that included Ginny—yet this particular girl was shrouded in mystery in more ways than one.

"You know, this might sound a little odd," he started, "but you're…"

Daphne smiled. "Cold? Stuck-up? Antisocial?"

Harry gave her a shrewd look: "I was going to say fascinating."

She blinked, for once looking like she truly didn't know what to say. "Are you flirting with me right now, Harry Potter?"

"What? No, I didn't mean it like that!" Harry said quickly.

"I know. I'm just messing with you. Just because I choose to exhibit a more mature attitude doesn't mean I don't know how to joke around, believe it or not. Hard not to when Tracey is your best friend."

The girl with the short hair jumped in Harry's mind. "Tracey Davis, right?"

"The one and only." Daphne sat up straighter. "Let's get straight to business. As much as I find our chat quite enjoyable, it'd be preferable if we discussed the principles of our plan. It's obvious that we will be going together to the party, but we have to figure out the boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic if we want the school to believe we are boyfriend and girlfriend."

Wow. You're actually going along with this, aren't you? Harry thought about Ginny, of her fiery red hair and passionate personality, and sighed. Realistically, he knew that he and Daphne had to cook up a believable story about their relationship for this crazy plan to work, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that this might not be the best course of action.

It was too late to back out now, though.

"All right," he agreed.

"So here's my take," Daphne took over. "We bumped into each other at Diagon Alley when we went to get our school supplies over the summer. We met at the Apothecary, and although we got off the wrong foot at first, we ended up talking for a while. For the rest of the summer we ended up communicating via owl mail where the attraction began. "

Harry listened. Not only was it believable so far—as Daphne was known as one of the "nicer" Slytherins who had her own agenda and didn't pick sides—but it was simple. Simple sometimes made all the differences. This was already better than any half-arsed plan he could ever come up with.

"When we came to school, we met in secret a few times during the week. We found out that we had a lot in common and that we were interested in each. Around the first week of October, you asked me to be your girlfriend and I agreed."

Daphne paused, almost as if watching to see if he's paying attention. "We decide dto keep our relationship under wraps because of the childish rivalry between our houses. When Slughorn announced his Christmas party, you suggested we go together, and although I had reservations at first, I ended up agreeing. For this, we decided to publicly reveal our relationship because it's going to get out in the open anyway, so there is no point in hiding."

Harry whistled, thoroughly impressed.

She sat back, seemingly satisfied at his reaction. "Think Brown and Patil will buy this?"

"It's brilliant." Lavender and Parvati would have a field day tomorrow. Harry wasn't one to blindly believe whatever rumour the Hogwarts Rumour Mill spread about, especially since he's usually in the middle of it, but he'd never thought that one day he'd spread rumours about himself on purpose.

"I'm glad you think so. You know, Potter, I must say I'm surprised at your willingness to play along. I'd almost call it very Slytherin of you."

Harry's lips twitched into a tiny smirk. She noticed.

"Interesting choice of words."

Daphne's eyes narrowed. "Interesting how you didn't jump at me for comparing you to a Slytherin," she countered.

"Well… the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," he confessed.

Daphne's eyes widened and blatant shock flitted across her face for a moment before her calm mask slid back in. Harry had seen it, though.

He wasn't sure why he'd said it when neither Ron nor Hermione knew. Maybe he wanted to impress this very unusual girl. Maybe he wanted to prove something to this very attractive girl.

"Well," Daphne said, flashing him a predatory smirk, "this explains a lot."

A/N: So what do you think? Like it? Hate it? I'm personally pretty satisfied with the result! The second and last part will come soon.