This chapter has not been edited. Apologies for spelling/grammar mistakes.

Faint sounds of an argument drifted up through the floors as Daphne slowly awoke. The raised voice of the fat muggle was clear, but she could hear Harry also, slightly more muted.

She grimaced as she rose from the makeshift bed they'd put together for her, shoulders and back stiff and sore. Opening the door, she slipped out and quickly crossed the hallway into the bathroom. It took a minute or two, but she managed to work out how to turn on the water in order to bathe.

If she were still groggy from sleep, the cold water certainly corrected that. How did Harry stand it? No wonder he spoke so highly of the Weasleys; Daphne was sure that even the poorest magical home would be paradise when compared to how muggles lived. Clean and comfortable beds compared to filthy, used mattresses; hot showers rather than icy cold water; reliable and inviting lamps as opposed to harsh, bright lights.

It was revolting how backwards they were.

Exiting the shower, Daphne eyed the towels on the rack warily. There were only two, making it likely that they had already been used that day by the muggles or Harry. Sharing his wouldn't be so intolerable, she thought, the stray image of Harry dabbing at trails of water running down his chest-

Shaking herself free of such a mental picture, Daphne refocused on the towels, trying to ignore the feeling of heat radiating from her face. No, she wasn't going to risk it. There was absolutely no way she was going to let her skin be touched by something those greasy muggles might have rubbed all over themselves.

Slipping the nightshirt over her dripping body, Daphne returned to the small bedroom to find Harry waiting for her, a plate with two pieces of burnt toast and a single egg in his hands.

"Is that all there is?" she asked, gathering her long hair in her hands to let it fall behind her shoulders. "We should go out and get some real food."

He didn't respond, staring blankly ahead. "Harry? Are you alright?"

Hastily averting his eyes, he cleared his throat and thrust the plate out for her to take. "Erm, yea, fine. Sorry, I know it's not much. I, um, I have to go start my chores."

He fidgeted until she took the plate, then hastily left the room. 'What was that about?' she thought irritably, taking the plate from him and settling onto his bed, eyeing the meagre portion with distaste. As she looked down to reach for a piece of toast, though, Daphne realized that dressing without drying herself meant her nightshirt ended up absorbing the water.

Her thin, white shirt.

Mortified beyond all reason, Daphne abandoned her breakfast and buried her face in his pillow, letting out a frustrated cry. He must have seen everything! Gods! How could she look him in the eye, knowing he'd seen her practically nude?

She slowly calmed down, breathing in his scent on his pillow, trying to quell her embarrassment, to build her self-confidence back up. This was fine. Maybe not exactly the way she'd intended to go about it, but what harm was there in showing off a little? She had nothing to be ashamed of! Plenty of boys would have killed to get a glimpse of what he saw! With considerable amusement, she recalled her earlier intention to leave him speechless; she'd certainly accomplished that!

Ego thus assuaged, Daphne dressed in the clothes she'd worn the day before and set out to find Harry. The creaking of the stairs beneath her feet did not go unnoticed, however, and the long-necked muggle who'd fainted the night before emerged from the kitchen as she reached the first floor, breakfast in hand.

"Hello," Daphne greeted, her tone careful and cautious. "Where's Harry?"

With a sniff from her upturned nose, the muggle woman regarded her rumpled school uniform. "He's earning his keep. Are you leaving?"

"Not yet, no," Daphne said. "Is there a place I can put this?" she asked, holding out the plate with the uneaten portion.

"Our food's not good enough for you, is that it? I told the boy he should have eaten it himself!" This was Harry's breakfast? "How much longer do we have to put up with you?"

"A few days."

"A few- VERNON!" The banshee-like screech made Daphne want to cover her ears, but she refused to show weakness in front of these people. "It's indecent! I won't have that boy bringing loose women to live here, no matter what those- those kinds of people say!"

Daphne drew herself up to her full height, regrettably still a head shorter than this foul muggle. "And what do you think you can do to stop me?"

"Mum!" The younger one - Dudley, she recalled - poked his head out the kitchen door. "Come here, I wanted to talk to you and Dad."

"Since you're going into the kitchen, take this with you," Daphne said, holding out the plate, glaring until the woman reluctantly acquiesced.

Once they were gone, she let out a sigh of relief. These muggles were horrid, every encounter with them set her on edge. She gave a cursory look into the sitting room but saw no sign of Harry. Deciding she'd search more thoroughly once she had access to her trunk, she cautiously opened the front door.

"Hello? Is anyone- oh, hi, Harry." He was pulling up weeds from around the bushes out front, his cheeks reddening as he determinedly avoided her gaze. "Is one of your watchers around? I need someone to reverse the shrinking spell on my trunk."

There was a rustle to her right, and an attractive brunette appeared from beneath an invisibility cloak. "I can handle that. Don't go anywhere, kiddo." Harry nodded mutely, and the woman gestured for Daphne to lead the way, the disembodied head bobbing along as she followed. "So. Decided to shack up with the Boy Wonder? Got to admit, that's a pretty bold way to stake your claim."

"What business is it of yours?" Daphne asked with a glance over her shoulder, immediately regretting her tone as the invisibility cloak fell the rest of the way, revealing the woman's crimson auror robes underneath. "You're with the DMLE?"

The woman chuckled. "Relax. The others are positive this is all some sort of plot, but I know better."

"You do?" Daphne was surprised at not having to defend herself.

"Of course," the woman replied in a breezy manner. "It wasn't that long ago I was a teenage girl. Doing silly things to be with the boy you fancy comes with the territory."

"Err, right," she replied, opening the door to Harry's room and pulling her trunks out of her pocket. "If you would?"

"Sure thing." A wave of her wand, and the two trunks returned to their full size.

Daphne waited expectantly, but the woman gave no indication of leaving, looking around the small room with interest. "Is there something you needed, Miss…?"

"I'm Tonks. No, just thinking. Guess we aren't as alike as I thought."

"What does that mean?"

Tonks waved her hand, gesturing to their surroundings. "Well, when I was your age I'd never have had the stones to sneak off and hop into bed with the boy I liked. At least, not so quickly," she added with a snort of amusement.

"I didn't- we're not-" Daphne sputtered, feeling outraged at the baseless assumption. "I'll have you know, we aren't sleeping together!"

"No? I think the whole neighborhood heard his muggle aunt screaming about you two staying in here together."

"I slept on the floor, on his blankets!"

"Ah," Tonks said. "If that's true, what are you going to do tonight?"

Daphne looked around the small room, cataloguing the addition of her two trunks to the nightstand, desk and chair, Harry's trunk, and the owl cage. It was cramped before, but now…

Tonks cackled in delight. "Here, I'll help you out," she offered, waving her wand once more, expanding Harry's mattress and frame from a double to a queen-size.

"That's not the sort of help I had in mind!"

"No? What sort of sleepover were you intending?" The older woman wore a wicked grin at Daphne's stunned surprise. "Look, if I thought for a second you two would actually get into anything inappropriate, I wouldn't do this."

"So why are you doing this?"

Tonks' cheerful smile disappeared. "You weren't at the Ministry that night, were you?" Daphne shook her head. "Sirius- Harry's godfather, he died right in front of him. Losing him was hard on all of us, but he was- Sirius meant a lot to him. Dumbledore has his reasons for keeping Harry here, and they're good ones, but I think he could use a shoulder to lean on. And with the way you barged in here, seems like you make as good a volunteer for that job as anyone."

"Okay." So far, she felt more like she'd leaned on Harry than the reverse, but it was still nice to hear that someone was looking out for him. "I'll do my best."

"Good," Tonks said, sweeping the invisibility cloak around her shoulders. "I'll let you get dressed in peace." She slipped the cloak over her head, disappearing completely from view.

Armed with her cosmetics, potions, and wearing a forest-green sundress that stopped just above her knees, Daphne felt a great deal more confident. The routine she'd maintained for six months brought a degree of stability back, after days of uncertainty and trauma.

She crept back out the front door as quietly as she could, but it appeared that the muggles were still in the kitchen judging from the voices she overheard as she walked past. Emerging into the bright, summer sun, Daphne took a moment to silently observe Harry.

He was clad in his typical muggle rags, coated with a light sheen of sweat from the June heat. She watched as he pushed some sort of mechanical device around the front garden, one that she belatedly realized trimmed the grass. Even though such manual labour was below his station as a wizard - all the more so given the Potter's status within their world - there was something… alluring about seeing him work in such a way.

"Hey!" He seemed to have gotten over his embarrassment from earlier. "I see Tonks was able to help you unpack."

Daphne nodded, giving him her best smile and approaching. "You look a little overheated. Want to take a break and keep me company?"

"Sure, let me grab us some water."

She considered warning him the muggles were in the kitchen, but ultimately decided he could handle them. After all, he'd apparently been living here for nearly his entire life. Instead, she smoothed her dress and sat down on the front step, enjoying the breeze in the shade of the small house.

"Here you go." Harry held out a glass of water, settling next to her and sipping from his own glass.

They sat together in companionable silence for several minutes, but eventually Daphne turned to face him. "So what was that about with Professor Moody? You said you'd tell me about it later."

"Oh," he made a face. "That. It wasn't Mad-Eye that taught us in fourth year, it was a Death Eater disguised as him, using Polyjuice Potion. He was the one that modified the portkey to send me to Voldemort during the third task of the Tournament."

The casual way he relayed that information was mind-boggling. She ran through their DADA lessons from that year, seeking out any incongruous moments that might have clued her in to the fake Moody's true identity. "The lesson on Unforgivables!"

"I've wondered about that, too," Harry said. "Never asked Professor Dumbledore one way or another, though. Maybe he really did have permission."

"It was horrible, being aware I was controlled like that, but still not able to do anything to stop it." Daphne shivered, the fear all the more visceral now that she knew it was a Death Eater who used the curse on her.

"I can't recall, what did he have you do?"

"He made me recite 'Ten Speckled Frogs'. It was so embarrassing!" She didn't want to linger on the memory, which was unpleasant enough before she knew the full truth. "You really don't remember? I figured you would have got a kick out of everyone else acting foolish, since you were the only one to break the Imperious."

Harry's lips spread in a wistful smile. "Watching Malfoy act as a little teapot was amusing, but no. I spent most of the class terrified for when my turn would come."

They both paused, thinking back to that year. "Did you ever notice me? I mean, before last term." She'd wondered that for awhile, but had never wanted to bring up the way she'd acted towards him and his friends.

He took another drink and adjusted his glasses, likely stalling for time to compose an answer. "Sure. I mean, Gryffindor and Slytherin have shared classes for years. I knew who you were."

For some reason his deflection - when they were both completely cognizant of how much delight she and Pansy took in making his best friend's life miserable for years - made Daphne's heart flutter in her chest. "I'm glad you got to know who I am." She caught and held his gaze to make sure he understood her meaning.

"Me too," he said, the words hushed and quiet.

When she reached over and took his hand, her fingers threading with his own, he squeezed them gently. Her smile was mirrored on his face, and soon enough their conversation started anew, with Daphne asking the story of how he became friends with Ron and Hermione. They sat together, hand-in-hand, swapping stories for almost an hour before the muggles interrupted, forcing Harry to get back to work.

Daphne was hungry and irritated. Harry had sent her inside while he continued to act as the muggles' house elf, doing demeaning work by hand. Weren't his watchers supposed to be making sure he wasn't mistreated?

She'd spent the afternoon trying to focus on her summer assignments, but it felt so pointless, so defeating to be working on essays when Harry was right down there. She should be- what, making 'her move', or something! Not sitting at his splintered desk and pretending like transfiguration mattered!

When the bedroom door opened and revealed a tired, sweaty Harry Potter, she leapt up and practically dragged him to his bed, taking a seat next to him. "I'm hungry, and I refuse to eat the muck that those muggles consider edible." Surprised by her immediate demand, he didn't respond right away, which worked in her favour. "Put on something nice, we're going out for dinner."

"Uh, what?"

Daphne smiled to make it seem more a request than an order. "Go, shower and then get dressed."

"I don't think the Ord- my watchers will want us to go out."

She narrowed her eyes. "And why not? Are they here to guard you, or imprison you?" Again, Harry let his silence answer for him, and Daphne was momentarily speechless at the way he was treated. He was a celebrity, arguably the most famous person in Magical Britain! How could this be his life? "I'll deal with them," she said, "You go get cleaned up."

Harry obediently stood but lingered, rubbing the back of his neck in obvious discomfort. "It's not like what you think, not really. It's just, I'm supposed to stay near Privet Drive." At her uncomprehending look, he went on. "This house, and the area around it."

She couldn't help it. He tensed when her arms closed around him, but after that initial reaction she felt his own arms encircle her. Daphne turned her head into him, feeling the sweat on his skin against her face. Even after working outside all day, his scent wasn't unbearable. Maybe it was just that it was Harry, she mused, feeling his grip tighten as her exhalation brushed against his neck.

"Let me take care of this," she murmured. "I'll go talk to Tonks."

Neither made any move to release the other, and she imagined she could feel each individual strand of her hair brush against his lips as he replied. "I think her shift is up, it's probably someone else."

She finally pulled away. "I'll meet you back here in ten minutes?"

"Okay."

Daphne left first, trodding the by-now familiar path to the front door. Before she could leave, though, the younger muggle, Dudley she recalled, emerged from the sitting room.

"Hey, got a sec?"

"What is it?" She tried to rein in her hostility, but her hunger and general disgust at her environment bled through anyway.

Thankfully, the muggle didn't seem to take offense. "I managed to talk my Mum and Dad into taking a holiday to Blackpool for the rest of the week, as a reward for my school marks." Daphne looked at him blankly. "You know, so you two could have a bit of alone time."

"Oh. Oh!" She felt her face heat up as his meaning became clear. "Thank you. That's, um, very considerate."

He grinned in a knowing sort of way. "It's nothing, I'd do it for any of my mates, so helping out the guy that saved me from invisible magic monsters wasn't a tough choice. Tell Harry if he needs any Johnnies I've got some spare in my sock drawer."

"Alright, I will," she said, not having a clue what he was referring to. "If you'll excuse me, we'll be dining out this evening, so I need to speak with Harry's escort."

"Right, cheers!" He gave a halfhearted wave and turned back to the sitting room.

Daphne paused, one hand on the doorknob, weighing Dudley's 'favour'. It certainly made staying here easier, not having those filthy muggles underfoot. But what if Harry expected her to- to engage in- to do that with him? It was something she knew, conceptually at least, some of her classmates did when they fancied themselves in love.

But then there were the sort like Zabini, willing to take advantage of any girl he could get his hooks into. What if Harry was only interested in her for…

'I'm being silly' she thought, hesitation gone and opening the door. The very idea that Harry, who was flustered at seeing her bare stomach, who practically ran out of the room at seeing her wet t-shirt, was somehow trying to steal her virtue was laughable.

"Hello?" she called out, and just as Harry had predicted, it wasn't Tonks that popped out from under an invisibility cloak.

"Did you need something?"

By the gods, he was handsome! The man was older, with long red hair tied up in a loose ponytail, clear blue eyes, and wore a dragon-tooth earring. Even in robes, she could tell he was fit, towering over her. "I- I…" she shook herself. "Harry and I will be dining out this evening. You may make any accommodations you need, we won't be leaving for another half hour."

"That so?" he asked, amusement evident on his features. "You know, he's not supposed to leave the house unless absolutely necessary."

"Excellent, then there's no problem."

Her snark actually elicited laughter. "Tonks warned me you were a sassy one. So long as you don't rat me out to Mad-Eye, I'm okay with you grabbing a bite. Naturally, I'll be coming along, though."

She nodded, fully expecting that. "We'll let you know when we're ready."

Daphne went inside, surprised to find Harry waiting for her at the top of the steps. "What did they say?"

Rather than reply, she stared critically at his outfit of choice. "You can't seriously mean to go out in that."

"I thought you said to dress nice."

"I did, so why are you wearing your Hogwarts uniform?"

Harry gave himself a once-over. "Should I have worn my dress robes? I don't think they fit any longer, the Yule Ball was ages ago."

"Dress robes? No, but- why…" Abruptly, she pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes briefly before climbing the stairs so she didn't need to speak so loudly. "Those are the nicest clothes you own, aren't they?"

He shrugged. "I haven't really had the chance to do any shopping, what with-" Harry waved his hand, vaguely gesturing towards outside. "Y'know."

"Right, of course." Elysant's warning about not emasculating him with her wealth rose to mind, but this was hardly the same thing, was it? "I guess we'll have to stop and buy you some proper clothes before dinner, then."

"Err, where exactly were you planning on eating?"

"Nowhere I'd want to show up with you dressed in a school uniform," she said. "Besides, those muggle clothes you wear are hardly befitting your status in our world. Can't have the Chosen One look so tatty, can we?"

Harry made a face at that, but overall didn't seem too opposed to the idea. "Okay. I suppose getting a new outfit would be alright."

"Great!" The eagerness on her face must have put him off, because his easy smile suddenly looked rather fearful. "Come along, I already spoke with our escort."

"Back so soon?" his guard greeted them, giving Harry a wave. "'Lo Harry, it's good to see you under better circumstances."

"Bill? What are you doing here?"

"I moved back earlier this year. In fact, I was part of the group that helped you out last week."

"You were at the Ministry?" Daphne asked. "Are you an auror, too?"

"No, just happened to be at the right place to help out," Bill replied, then, seeing Harry's expression fall at mention of that night, swiftly changed the topic. "So I understand we're going out for dinner? Have you got enough pounds? I can spot you if you're short."

"Pounds of what?" Daphne asked in confusion, feeling very out of place, but Harry ignored her question.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to- I put Ron and Ginny, and everyone in danger. If I had just- if I'd been better, it never would have happened-"

"Stop that," Bill commanded, voice still friendly but now firm. "It wasn't your fault. When you've been through what you have, I'm sure it's easy to forget you're still a kid. You did the best you could. I know that doesn't make things easier, but blaming yourself for things outside of your control doesn't help anything."

Harry swallowed heavily. "They wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for me, though. Sirius, he'd still-"

Bill stepped forward, pulling Harry into a loose hug. "I didn't know him long, but I'm positive Sirius would make the same choice he did every time. And as for the rest of them, well, after the basilisk Ron and Ginny owed you one anyway."

Letting out a short, obviously fake laugh, Harry gave Bill a watery smile. "Thanks, Bill." Seemingly remembering Daphne was standing there, he cleared his throat. "Before we eat, I thought we could stop by a shop, pick up some new clothes."

"That so?" Bill gave her a look with a raised eyebrow. It took Daphne several seconds to respond, trying and failing to figure out basilisk Ron and Ginny owed Harry for. "What kind of shop?"

"Uh, Madam Malkin's should do. He's not in need of anything extravagant."

"Letting your girlfriend pick out your clothes already?" Harry opened his mouth, likely to object, so Daphne stepped closer and took his hand before he could speak. Bill just chuckled. "Going to Diagon definitely isn't something the others would approve of, but… hold still, now."

A few muttered spells, and Harry's appearance was masked by a glamour charm. "That should keep your average well-wisher from recognizing you. I'm still going to call in some reinforcements, though." Harry frowned, and truthfully Daphne wasn't thrilled at the idea of a whole entourage tailing them on their date, either. "Don't worry, I think you'll be happy to see them again."

"What was all that about a basilisk?" Daphne whispered, but before Harry could answer Bill raised his wand, incanting the Patronus Charm and speaking in a low voice.

The misty crocodile darted off with a flash, and Bill turned back to them. "Ginny told me she managed a corporeal Patronus thanks to your lessons. That's pretty impressive."

"A Fourth Year casting a Patronus?" It sounded preposterous to Daphne.

Harry's smile was proud. "You could do it, too, if you wanted to learn."

"That's the sort of thing you taught in your dueling club?" she asked, trying to keep the envy from her voice.

A crack of disapparition reverberated through the garden, and a stunningly beautiful blonde woman appeared. "Bonjour, Harry!"

"Fleur? What are you doing here?"

Daphne easily recognized the French veela, watched Harry closely as the two embraced but he showed no signs of being under the influence of her aura. "I 'ave been working at the London branch of Gringotts. It is where I met Bill."

"We've been dating for almost a year," Bill added. "I figured you wouldn't mind her tagging along for a double date."

Harry's face flushed, but Daphne happily noted that he didn't bother denying Bill's assertion about their outing. "Sounds great."

"Do we need to stop and pick up some gold first, or are you set?"

"Actually, I'll be paying," Daphne said, shushing Harry when he opened his mouth to object. "So we're good to go."

"Right-o. C'mere, Harry, we'll let the girls side-along and you can come with me." Bill took a hold of Harry's upper arm and spun in place, vanishing with an ear-splitting crack.

Daphne stood at the ready for Fleur to do the same with her, but instead the French woman crossed her arms, regarding Daphne sceptically. "So. When the others said that a girl was trespassing in Harry's home, I did not expect it to be you. He could do a lot better."

"Excuse me?"

"Changing your hair and slathering yourself with cosmetics does not change what's underneath. I remember you."

"I think you're mistaken, we've never met," Daphne said, confused at the hostility.

"Non, this is true, but you wear the green robes at 'ogwarts, don't you? Did you think I could not hear you laugh with your friends at the 'creature' from Beauxbatons?"

"I- that was, it was…" Daphne instinctually started to blame Pansy, but the lie stuck in her throat, half-formed. She had said that, and worse; in their Fourth Year, Draco proved to be highly susceptible to the veela allure, and Pansy - who had high hopes at the start of the year of dating him - had taken his infatuation with the French champion personally. Daphne had spent many a dinner at the Slytherin table mocking Fleur in an attempt to boost Pansy's self-esteem. "I'm sorry. I've changed."

Fleur stepped closer, the tall woman towering over her. "I don't believe you."

Daphne met her eyes, standing as tall as she could, but Fleur was intimidating and not only because of her beauty. "You don't have to, but it's true."

"I am confident that Harry will see through you, eventually. But if you hurt him before then, I will make your life very unpleasant." Threat delivered, she squeezed Daphne's bicep in an iron grip and disapparated.

"-that's the thing they never tell you about mummies, they smell!" Bill said, gesturing with his fork. "Those linen wrappings positively reeked of a few millennia's worth of body odor."

"So what did you do?" Harry asked, enraptured with Bill's tales of Egyptian cursebreaking.

"I was busy gagging, so I cast on reflex - an overpowered scourgify, naturally. Not exactly an ideal spell choice, but it caught me completely off-guard." Bill leaned forward across the table towards Harry. "Have you ever washed linen for too long? It has a tendency to shrink."

"So the mummy-?"

"His wrappings tightened up so much he tipped over, just like that," he snapped his fingers. "From there, it was a cinch to blast the thing to dust."

Harry laughed, and Daphne couldn't repress a smile of her own despite her discomfort. They sat side by side in the cafe off a side street from Diagon Alley, Bill across from Harry, Fleur across from her.

They'd popped into Madam Malkins briefly, where Daphne charged a set of slacks and a fitted shirt to her mother's account, the seamstress delighted to tailor the garments personally in store. Harry had blanched at the cost, demanding she let him pay, but Daphne stood firm. He really did look nice. The black slacks and red shirt complimented his dark hair, and highlighted the fact Harry was a rather fanciable young man.

"It's great to see you again," Fleur said when Bill's story ended. "My sister, especially, has been heartbroken that you never wrote. She's spoken of little else since I moved to England."

"How is Gabby?"

"She is well. She's paying an older student at Beauxbatons to teach her English."

Harry gave her a fond smile. "I'll send her a letter this summer."

And therein lay the source of Daphne's discomfort - Fleur Delacour. She'd spent the entire outing terrified the other woman would bring up her behaviour during the Tournament to Harry, and the veela knew it. It made for a miserable 'date'.

"What do you say, feel like dessert?" Bill asked as the waiter cleared their plates.

Daphne shook her head. Even if this dinner had gone well, she was on a diet. "I think I'd like to go."

"Suit yourself. No, stay put," Bill ordered, as Harry reached into his pocket, "dinner's on me. It was nice to have a chance to get to know you better."

He paid their tab, and the four of them traveled back to the muggles' house, where Bill took up his station and Fleur left Harry with a parting embrace. It wasn't that late, and the sounds of whatever the muggle version of the Wireless was could be heard coming from the sitting room, so Harry quietly led her up the stairs to his room.

"Um."

"It was Tonks. I didn't ask her to do it, honestly!" Daphne said, while Harry cautiously took a seat on the expanded mattress.

"Why do you have two trunks, anyway?"

"I came back from the winter hols with more stuff than would fit in a bag."

Harry weighed this response, eventually accepting it without further comment. "Well, I'll go grab Bill and have him re-shrink your trunks to give us some more space-"

"Let me do it. It's my fault, and I need to change into my pyjamas anyway."

Daphne opened her school trunk and dug out the same set of nightclothes she'd worn to their first meeting in the Hogwarts kitchen and ducked into the bathroom across the hall. As she went through her nightly routine of washing her face and brushing her teeth, she ran through their 'night out'. The addition of Fleur was unexpected and demonstrated that, despite the progress she'd made, winning Harry over was far from guaranteed. How would he have reacted, she wondered, if the veela had publicly exposed her?

She had to take care of this. Daphne would come clean, just get it out in the open. She'd changed, she really had, and Harry knew that. Better to explain to him now, on her terms, then wait for it to come out at an inopportune time.

When she returned to his room, Harry's eyebrows went up. "Where's Bill?"

"I didn't want to disturb the muggles," she said as an excuse - a poor one, evidenced by Harry's eyebrows raising.

"So where are you going to sleep?"

Daphne took a deep breath. "There's something you should know. Back in Fourth Year, during the Tournament, I… I said some nasty things about Fleur."

"What?" He cocked his head at her sudden confession. "What sort of nasty things?"

"About her, uh, 'heritage'. Her creature blood."

Harry was silent for a long moment, and when she found the courage to glance up at him, he was staring intently at her face. "That sounds like the sort of thing Umbridge would say."

She winced, but couldn't deny the truth of his cutting remark. "It wasn't- you don't understand what it's like, she's just perfect even without veela powers. Boys don't fall over themselves when normal witches walk past, they don't drool and lose their minds. It felt really unfair."

"So it was simply jealousy? You didn't actually mean it?"

He was giving her a chance! It felt so good to confess, to actually tell the truth, and he was listening! "At the time? Maybe I did. I don't know." She sat down next to him, taking his hands in her own. "I've told you before, who I was isn't who I am. It isn't an act, I've really changed, Harry."

Another long moment passed, and he gave a hesitant nod. "I believe you."

Her embrace was so sudden and fierce it almost resembled a tackle, forcing Harry onto his back with her weight sprawled over him. Her long dark hair hung like curtains on either side of his face as she raised her head up to meet his eyes.

He believed her. He believed in her. The feeling of being free from her past mistakes was so liberating it was like an intoxicant. This was it, the moment to tell him about the half-truths, the lies, the misleading. All the more so given what he'd been forced to endure here, she wouldn't go on pretending anymore. And when he met her family, her parents and Astoria, he'd see how families are supposed to treat each other-

Daphne's racing thoughts came to a sudden halt when he softly, hesitantly, reached up and tucked her bangs behind her ear. "You know," he said, "Even though we've been at school together for years, in a lot of ways it feels like I've just met you."

His hand stayed in place, cupping her cheek. "Yea?" she asked breathlessly.

"I never had many friends. When I was in muggle school it- it was bad. And at Hogwarts, I always felt so different, so out of step with my classmates. It's why Ron and Hermione mean so much to me, why I trust them so much. They understand the things I've done.

"It's like that with you, but different at the same time. I get so caught up in all the insanity around me, it's easy to forget that everyone else isn't living some perfect life."

"Harry-"

"So I wanted to apologize," he continued. "I'm sorry for how I was to you earlier this year. It took a lot of courage to approach me the way you did, and I should have realized it sooner. I was wrong about what I said to you, back at Hogwarts." He was coming closer, the distance between them receding at a steady rate. "I do trust you."

Each word was like a Piercing Hex into her heart. Daphne placed a hand on his chest and leaned back, away from him, away from his kiss. At first, he looked confused, and then hurt. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

How could she tell him now? That it was all a lie, that the coincidences and similarities were engineered? The freedom she'd felt before vanished, replaced by an even heavier burden of deception. She'd changed, yes, but into what?

Harry gently lifted her off of him, raising them both to a sitting position. "I'm really sorry," he said, cheeks a flaming red. "I- I don't know what I was thinking."

Maybe… maybe it was okay, though. It was true, she'd started this solely for Astoria's sake, but Harry was kind, and strong, and noble, and- and handsome, she thought, heedless of the distress her silence caused him. She really did like him, and he must like her. If the lies made them both happier, then what was the problem, exactly?

"I should get ready for bed, I'll grab Bill on my way back and-"

Daphne kissed him.

There were no fireworks exploding behind her eyes, no butterflies dancing in her chest. No, there was only the deep, steady assurance that this was right, that she wanted this and she wanted him.

Harry started to pull away, but Daphne followed, kissing him again. A pause, for her to take his glasses off and run one hand through his messy hair, and this time he kissed her. She moaned into his mouth, and he responded with a tentative sweep of his tongue.

The guilt inside her was muted, but still present. That was okay, she thought, feeling his arms crush her against his body. It would be her burden to carry, the price she'd pay for making everything right.

Warm sunlight streamed in the window, and Daphne stretched against Harry's body, sighing fondly at the feel of him pressed against her. They'd snogged for what felt like an hour the night before, their heated kisses eventually giving way to softer, more tender embraces.

The muggles were gone before they got up, so she and Harry spent the day together talking, laughing, and kissing. She'd asked about the basilisk, and he told the story and came clean about sneaking into the Slytherin dorms. They made each meal together, cooking in the kitchen like a couple that had been together for years rather than a single day. It had been a day she'd never forget.

And then, to top everything off, another night spent in his arms. She sighed again.

"Good morning, Miss Greengrass."

She jerked upright, then nearly fell out of the bed as Harry lurched for his glasses. Seated in the ramshackle chair in front of Harry's desk was the Headmaster, adjusting his spectacles and peering at them with a curious expression.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry squeaked, fumbling for the shirt Daphne had pulled off him the night before. "Err, what are you doing here, sir?"

"I received a very surprising letter last night, about a topic I had thought resolved. Perhaps simply a miscommunication, but nonetheless a situation that must be attended to."

"What are you talking about? Did- is it Voldemort?"

Dumbledore stood up, pushing the chair back to its place beneath the desk. "No, Harry. I'm not here for you, but rather, Miss Greengrass. I already took the liberty of packing your things," he said, and at this he held out the twin trunks, shrunken in the palm of his hand.

"I need to get dressed," she mumbled.

Dumbledore waved his hand, no wand in sight, and her nightclothes shifted to a set of trousers and a button-up shirt. "Forgive the drabness of my transfiguration, but your parents would likely not appreciate a more stylish selection.

"My parents?"

"Yes. They sent me a letter, expressing their deep concern over your whereabouts. Apparently, it was to their surprise that you were not, in fact, staying with MIss Parkinson. Your mother, in particular, was rather frantic about what might have happened to you after you left the Hogwarts Express."

Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. "Right, like she cares."

Dumbledore raised a single, bushy eyebrow, and Daphne realized she needed to get out of here, before the topic of her parents' concern was broached in front of Harry. She gave him a quick kiss. "I'll write to you, I promise."

He held her fast. "You don't have to go."

"Yes, I do. Thank you, Harry, for everything. I promise we'll talk soon." She kissed him again, longer this time, before Dumbledore cleared his throat.

The two of them descended the stairs in silence, exiting the house where he held out a frayed glove. "Hold on tight, if you would."

The feeling of a hook jerking behind her navel signalled the portkey's activation, and Daphne was swept away, landing in an most unexpected destination.

"Sir? Is- is this Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore patted his phoenix on the head, making his way behind the large, ornate desk and taking a seat. "It is, in fact, my office." He leaned forward, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "Now, Miss Greengrass, what can you tell me about your interest in Harry Potter?"

A/N: Hurrah! Another chapter.

On Fleur - I didn't want everyone to be on Daphne's side. She was pretty awful before, so there will be a lot of resistance to her and Harry.

I see now why my good friend WakeFan (author of Dance of Death and Casting Shadows) likes Bill so much. He is a lot of fun to write in a 'big bro' role.

Ahhh more i wanted to say, but i'm in a rush and just want this chapter out.

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles