Okay, this fic will need some introductory words. I don't really do tags, so if you want to know a bit what will be in this story, as far as I can currently predict it, read this note. If not, feel free to try your luck down below.
First, the main pairing in this fic will be Daphne x Harry x Ginny. Three-way, meaning they all date each other. It's not just Harry dating the girls, the girls are together as well. Why? Well, I like the canon pairings, but I've wanted to write a Harry x Daphne for some time now. And, since I'm in a happy open relationship IRL, I figured I might as well try my hand at a poly kind of thing for a change. The ships will be hinted at early, but nothing truly romantic will happen before fourth year, and likely even fifth.
This brings me to my second point: I love the 'Stations of the Canon' trope. That means a lot of things will happen pretty much like they did in the books. This is not everyone's thing, so I'm warning you up front about it. Daphne's presence in the plot will alter things, and since the story will be from her POV, there will obviously be a number of differences. I won't be showing entire years, either. Some plot elements will be expanded a bit, others contracted, and some will be original entirely. Even so, especially in the early portions, some parts of the book will be copied verbatim. I won't be changing that, because again, I love this trope.
Third, I only take the seven books as canon. Not the movies, not the Fantastic Beasts lore, not any fanon regarding the characters, and nothing from Cursed Child. I'll now immediately disregard my previous statement and say that I might exclude Astoria from the fic. Honestly, I think my ideas will work better with Daphne as an only child, and I'm writing her and Draco as not friendly with each other, so I don't really want to deal with Astoria and him getting together at some point.
Lastly, some character tropes I'll be averting: Ron the Death Eater and Draco in Leather Pants. Both have their place, but neither will be in this fic. Ron will obviously be a bit biased against Daphne at first, but he'll come around, and Draco is a whiny bitch as usual. Snape will also remain a dick, and Dumbledore will fill his normal role as a flawed Big Good.
Now then, with all of that done, enjoy, and please let me know what you think, good or bad.
Chapter One: All Sorted
Despite knowing fully well what she could expect, Daphne couldn't help but be a bit awed by the sheer grandeur of Hogwarts's entrance hall. Growing up in a stately manor had made her used to displays of wealth and old pride, but here…she could feel the magic in every single stone, every torch that lit the walls. And yet, despite the size and splendor, the hall felt welcoming, as if the castle itself was eager to accept new students.
She wasn't really sure why the mere sight of the entryway made her feel so poetic. School was, as her parents had been drilling into her all her life, merely an extension of the wizarding society at large. It was a place to form new alliances and undermine the ones that could prove to be troublesome.
Her own family was, of course, content to remain in the background, working from the shadows. Her father's policy of neutrality meant that the Greengrass family didn't have many political allies…but it didn't have any real enemies, either. It allowed for a very comfortable existence, and Daphne knew that one of the most difficult things in her education would be to balance results with attention drawn to her. Showing off prodigious skill might earn her the favor of the teachers, but it was sure to draw envious eyes, and animosity in school was sure to carry over into real life. She would have to make sure she did well, but never perfectly.
She looked around at the rest of the first-years and saw many familiar faces. She knew all the purebloods, of course, from 'parties' she had attended with her parents, but she couldn't say she was close to any of them.
She knew that somewhere in this group of kids was Harry Potter, the fabled 'Boy-Who-Lived', who had supposedly beaten the Dark Lord when he was just a baby, but from where she was standing, she couldn't see him. She wondered what kind of person he would turn out to be. There had been whispers among some of the pureblood families that Potter was a powerful dark wizard himself, to have been able to survive the Killing Curse at his age, but Daphne hadn't really believed those rumors. He'd been a baby when the Dark Lord attempted to kill him, after all. How dark could a baby possibly be?
While Daphne was lost in thought, Professor McGonagall had led the first years into a side room adjacent to the Great Hall, and had given them the introductory speech about the four Houses. Daphne wasn't all that interested. She was pretty sure where she'd end up, and from the genealogy she knew alone, which she had been instructed in childhood, she was pretty sure where many of the familiar faces would end up as well.
That red-headed boy, for instance, was clearly a Weasley, and she was willing to bet her wand that he would end up in Gryffindor like the rest of his family.
Somewhere over to the Weasley boy's left, she spotted Draco Malfoy, who was sure to end up in Slytherin…though he was a far cry from 'cunning'. She'd never met anyone with such a massive sense of entitlement, even among the pureblood families. Sure, he came from a powerful family, but so did she, and Nott, and Parkinson, and while she wasn't necessarily friends with them either, they weren't quite as pathetic as Malfoy.
But, of course, she couldn't really voice any of that. None of the pureblood families liked one another, they simply used each other's connections if it was convenient to do so, and openly criticizing any of them was asking for trouble. If you needed to work against any of them, you had to make sure it couldn't be traced back to you. She wasn't really sure how her parents, and the parents of the other pureblood kids, kept up with all the double meanings and hidden messages, but it felt like it would be a huge hassle. So far, the most important thing her parents had taught her was to never tell anyone anything they didn't really need to know. That was fine with her.
Professor McGonagall returned and led the first years into the Great Hall. Though Daphne had read about it and knew of it from stories her parents told her, seeing it for the first time still made her eyes widen in wonder. The floating candles, the House tables, all decked out in plates and goblets and cutlery, and the massive, enchanted ceiling were suitably impressive, even more so than the entrance hall had been.
She watched in silence as Professor McGonagall brought out the Sorting Hat and placed it on its stool. Her parents had told her that the Hat opened every year with a song, and that it changed every year, so she was curious to hear it herself for the first time.
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
Daphne had a hollow feeling in her stomach after listening to the Hat's song. Its line about the Slytherins hadn't really been all that positive. Being a ruthless pragmatist was a necessity in pureblood society. She hated to think that it was apparently considered to be a core part of her personality, if she would be sorted into Slytherin…and she had every reason to believe she would be.
At that moment, Professor McGonagall began calling the first years' names. "Abbott, Hannah!" Daphne watched how a blonde, pig-tailed girl stepped out of the line of first years and put on the Hat.
After just a moment, the Hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
Abbott quickly made her way to the Hufflepuff table, where she was greeted warmly by her new housemates.
Daphne nervously waited for the first Slytherin to be Sorted, eager to find out what kind of reception they would give to a new housemate.
When "Bulstrode, Millicent" became the first Slytherin, she got her answer. The applause was somewhat perfunctory, the smiles condescending — the girl wasn't a pureblood, so they would give her basic courtesy and nothing more. She wouldn't be very useful in the political world yet, after all.
After "Granger, Hermione" it was finally Daphne's turn, and she felt all the eyes in the Hall on her as she walked forward to the stool. She pretended not to notice and walked with her back straight, as befit her station as a pureblood.
She picked up the Sorting Hat, and with a sense of trepidation she put it on her head. It was too big for her, so it sagged over her eyes.
"A Greengrass, huh?" a little voice inside her head said.
Yes, so? Daphne answered mentally.
"An old family, of course, though I sense more in you than just Slytherin ambition. Yes, a certain courage…"
You can't put me in Gryffindor, Daphne thought flatly. The hassle it would give my parents…and I really don't want the attention.
"Are you sure? I can see into your heart, you know, and I know your doubts. Perhaps in Gryffindor, you could–"
Thank you, but I can't. I don't want to get my parents in trouble, Daphne thought.
"Very…chivalrous of you," the Hat said slyly. "But if you're sure, then I guess you should go in SLYTHERIN!"
Daphne took the Hat off and made her way over to the Slytherin table, noting as she did so that her applause seemed more genuine than Bulstrode's had been, and the smiles more calculating than courteous.
She sighed as she took her place. The politics had already begun, then. A part of her wished she would've taken the Sorting Hat up on its offer, but it was too later now. Probably for the best, anyway. The mere thought of a respectable pureblood being sorted into Gryffindor would offend many of the old families. Even if her parents wouldn't mind, it would cause them trouble. Yeah, this way was better.
She was shaken from her dark musings when she heard Professor McGonagall shout, "Potter, Harry!"
She looked up — and was amazed to see a small, thin boy making his way over to the Sorting Hat. The whispers in the hall seemed to make him shrink. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but it wasn't this. The Boy-Who-Lived should surely stand up straight, right? After what he had done, wouldn't it be natural to be boastful, at least a bit? He had more reason to be than some of the people she knew, of that she was certain. And yet, when he sat down on the stool and pulled the Hat over his head, it almost seemed like he wished he could turn invisible.
After a moment's consideration, the Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" and the Gryffindor table erupted in such loud cheers they might as well have won the Quidditch World Cup. She watched Potter shakily joining his raucous housemates, relief visible on his face even from a distance. What had he expected? That the Hat would reject him? Or had he too had a conversation with the Hat? A smile played on her lips at the thought of Harry Potter, vanquisher of the Dark Lord, being sorted into Slytherin. That would have given rise to some interesting stories, after all.
At long last, "Zabini, Blaise" was sorted into Slytherin, and the Sorting ceremony finally came to an end.
Professor Dumbledore now rose from his seat and addressed the students. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
Daphne blinked stupidly as Dumbledore sat back down.
"Don't worry about it," the girl next to her said. "Dumbledore is…strange. Don't let his mannerisms fool you, though. The old man is sly."
"I'll…keep it in mind," Daphne said uncertainly. It was one thing to feign ignorance on certain things to gain an advantage over someone…but to feign insanity? What benefit could that possibly bring? Surely that would lead to all kinds of slander? She shook her head and decided not to put too much thought into it right now. It wasn't likely she'd have much to do with the Headmaster, anyway, and because of the nerves she'd completely forgotten how hungry she was until she saw the now-full trays and carafes.
While conversations went on all around her, Daphne didn't bother trying to make small talk with the other Slytherins. She knew many of them, and they knew her, so what was there to say? Besides, the first week was meant to observe, to gather information on how everyone behaved and how they seemed to perform in classes. She could form alliances afterwards based on her observations. She thought ruefully about the Sorting Hat's line about making true friends in Slytherin. Though she obviously didn't know everyone at the table — even in Slytherin, there were half-bloods — she felt like most of them weren't all that interested in deep connections.
She glanced over at the Gryffindor table, which was easily the loudest table in the Hall. Was that just because Potter had been Sorted there, or were they always like that? Again, she felt a small pang of regret at not being Sorted there instead, but she pushed it away.
At the end of dinner, Dumbledore got up again to address the students. It seemed to be a standard bit of information…until he said, "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Daphne stared at him intently to see if he was joking, but if he was, she could see no sign of it. The girl next to her, whom she only now noticed was wearing a Prefect's badge, said, "Best to take those kinds of warnings seriously. The general ones he makes every year you can pretty safely ignore, as long as you don't get caught, but the specific ones…"
Daphne nodded slowly, again wondering what kind of person Dumbledore was, but the Headmaster was smiling contentedly and flicked his wand to make the words of Hogwarts's school song appear in the air.
The Prefect next to Daphne groaned. "Not this again…" she muttered. She glanced at Daphne. "Don't feel pressured to actually sing. Just…pretend. The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors will make enough noise to cover for us."
The Hall erupted into singing, but because everyone sang to their own tune there was mainly just a lot of noise. As the Prefect had said, the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables were by far the loudest, though the Ravenclaws did seem to be attempting to harmonize with each other into something that didn't sound terrible. The Slytherin table had a few older students who sang, but by far most of them simply opened and closed their mouths, looking a bit like fish out of water. Daphne couldn't really blame them, though, given that she was doing exactly the same thing. No sense in making a fool of herself on day one, after all.
After Dumbledore had finished directing two Gryffindor's — Weasleys, judging by the hair — funeral march-like rendition of the school song, he mercifully gave everyone permission to go to bed.
The Prefect next to Daphne stood up and shouted, "First years, gather around! My name is Gemma Farley, and I'm a Prefect. If you'll all follow me, I'll take you to our common room."
Farley led the group out of the Great Hall, down a long staircase that eventually opened up into a featureless hallway, beyond which lay the dungeons. She halted in front a bare section of wall and turned to the first years. "This is the entrance to our common room. If you're unsure as to what stretch of wall it is, it's between the fifth and sixth torches. Look for the stone with three parallel cracks. To enter, you simply say the password, which is currently 'Ambition'."
The moment she spoke the password, a concealed door in the wall slid open. "Now, the password will change every two weeks, and it will be posted ahead of time on the noticeboard in the common room," Farley went on. "It's absolutely forbidden to reveal the password to anyone not in our House, or to bring anyone from another House into the common room."
"As if we'd want to," Malfoy said in an arrogant drawl.
Farley gave him an unimpressed look. "Malfoy, you may be used to speaking your mind at home, but here, you're expected to listen to your superiors. I am a Prefect, and I am talking, so you're going to be quiet. Surely you don't want to lose points on your first day?" Farley asked coldly.
Daphne was impressed. Malfoy's name generally gave him a free pass to do whatever he wanted. But of course, Farley was a half-blood. She wasn't as involved in Noble House politics, so there was little he would be able to do to her. Maybe that was why she was a Prefect?
Malfoy looked annoyed at being rebuked, but kept quiet.
"Good. Now then, follow me," Farley said. She turned and stepped into the open door, and Daphne saw Malfoy muttering mutinously to Crabbe and Goyle, no doubt about how he was going to inform his father that someone had had the gall to tell him to be quiet. How he would ever manage leading his family in the future was beyond her. What was he going to do once Lucius was gone, if he never learned to do anything himself? And, from what she had seen of him in her life, he never did anything himself if he could have someone else do it for him. It was a trait shared by many pureblood families, but Draco Malfoy was by far the worst of the lot…and she'd have to spend seven years in the same class as him.
She wondered idly if she could ask the Sorting Hat to transfer her to Gryffindor after all. They might have had a reputation for being noisy troublemakers, but at least they seemed less full of themselves. Or at least, in a very different and much more direct way.
They entered the common room, which, true to its location in the dungeons, looked very rough, as if it had been crudely hewn out of the ground. There were greenish lamps hanging from the ceiling, which would give the room a bit of an eerie vibe, had it not been for the roaring fire under the exquisite mantelpiece.
"The two corridors on either end lead to the dorms. The first-year dorms are at the end of the respective hallways. Boys go left, girls go right. And word of warning: do not attempt to go into any other dorm than your own. Boys, girls, doesn't matter. Only enter your own dorm. Failure to do so will necessitate a trip to the infirmary, and will result in points being docked. Am I clear?" Farley was looking at Malfoy specifically when she asked that, and Daphne had to hide a small smile behind her hand when she saw his angry glare.
He remained silent, though, so Farley nodded and said, "Good. Your belongings have already been brought in. Get plenty of rest, because tomorrow, your education will begin. I don't need to remind you that what you do here will be of great importance to your later life. Don't waste your time by messing around. If you have any questions, you can always turn to me, the other Prefect Isaac Moore — who is currently in the infirmary, but will be back soon — or our Head of House, Professor Snape. That's it, good night!"
As Farley left them, Daphne wondered how Moore had managed to land himself in the infirmary before the school year had even begun, but she figured she'd hear that story later. She and the other first year girls made their way over to the dorm, where five magnificent four-poster beds were waiting for them. She spotted her trunk at the foot of one of the beds and was glad she wouldn't have to have a discussion over who would get which bed. She was far too tired to care, and if someone pushed her now she might lash out and say something that could be used against her later.
She looked at the other girls, and saw that they were all warily eyeing each other. She knew Pansy Parkinson, of course, and the two girls exchanged a short, polite nod.
Then there was Annabel Runcorn, whom Daphne had met only once. Her father had some kind of important function at the Ministry, and he had very little time for politics aside from real politics.
The other two girls were both half-bloods, or so Daphne assumed, because she didn't know either of them. Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode.
Bulstrode was large and looked strong, and she clearly tried to use that to her advantage, though Daphne could see she wasn't completely at ease.
Davis, meanwhile tried to project an air of indifference, but the way her eyes kept flicking between the other girls betrayed her.
All in all, it was a fairly regular first meeting. Daphne had the feeling that the other Houses wouldn't be quite so apprehensive and watchful towards each other, but that didn't matter now. She'd chosen Slytherin, probably to a larger degree than any of the other girls in the room. Now, then, she'd have to make the most of that choice. With a final glance at her dormmates, she opened her trunk and began pulling out her belongings. She had a lot of work ahead of her.
