I do not own Harry Potter or gain anything from writing this other than the opportunity of expanding on an already brilliant universe for my own entertainment, and hopefully yours.

Cuts and Bruises

A Flex Weed stem placed upright in four drachms of simmering water. Add two Lacewing Flies as the potion turns a pale green, then dip in the head of a petrified Lionhead Fish until the fish turns green – place the fish back in salt water immediately for future use. Add leaves of Nettle, Murtlap Tentacle, Mallowsweet, Goosegrass, Honeywater and leech juice. Heat. Cover solution with purified water, bring to a rolling boil while stirring constantly. Add a drachm of Bubotuber pus. Let sit for half an hour. Stir in rose oil then let cool. Bottle and leave undisturbed for 48 hours before use on an open wound.

Now repeat the process twenty-five times because Madam Pomfrey is a cruel, evil woman.

Daphne had to hand it to the Hogwarts matron though, after the third time of brewing a wound cleaning potion, a recipe was no longer necessary. And while it was lengthy work it felt good to do something that would actually be put to use within the hospital wing. Wound cleaning potions were just the beginning of what Daphne would be brewing to restock the already full stores. Those full stores would be tested this year, already more than the usual number of hurt students were coming in for scratches and bruises and trauma from the Cruciatus.

Daphne's been getting more practice than she cared for whenever working in the hospital wing. At the beginning she was only meant to come in twice a week. For the past two weeks she's been there every single night. Not that Madam Pomfrey asked her to, she just felt the need to help. Though her sleep was certainly being sacrificed trying to juggle her apprenticeship and homework.

It worked for her though. Tracey and Stephen found they were too impatient for the first Hogsmeade weekend and had started sneaking off together to undisclosed locations in order to snog and whatnot. So Daphne was on her own. But thankfully, with how busy she was, she hardly even noticed. Since Tracey was also partaking in her own extracurriculars, they often found themselves up late together in the common room, racing to finish an essay that was due the next morning. So far it's been manageable, and Daphne really didn't want to cut back on her work in the hospital wing, she could see how much Madam Pomfrey appreciated it. The matron would be the one brewing these potions in bulk whenever she had a moment if Daphne wasn't there to help her. And the woman barely had a moment these days.

Once finishing her assigned task, Daphne stood and went to the wash basin in the corner to clean herself off from the various fumes and non-volatile (thank Merlin) ingredients on her skin and hospital wing robes. When she left the room she was about to say goodnight to Pomfrey and get to work on a Herbology essay she had due in a couple days. Unfortunately, about half the beds in the hospital wing were occupied when she stepped out of the back room, and Madam Pomfrey was hard at work over one student who's right side was red with blood. Daphne rushed right over to help, but Madam Pomfrey pointed across the aisle without looking up from her work.

'Start on them, Daphne,' she ordered, 'I've got this one under control.'

She did as she was told, and she didn't even express surprise as being called Daphne. It was usually Greengrass, or occasionally Miss Greengrass, but she supposed the matron was too busy for formalities, or perhaps she was starting to like Daphne.

The first bed in the line belonged to a familiar face who was watching the patient across from him worriedly.

'What happened, Longbottom?'

He looked up at her and gave her a searching look. Somehow she could tell that he couldn't put a name to her face, but at least seemed to recognize her. Not that she cared if he did or didn't. She probably wouldn't know his name if Snape didn't talk down to him so frequently in their potions classes over the years. Neither one of them were the type to raise their hand in class, or arrive late, or do something suitably impressive that would get them called out in a positive way. Longbottom's claim to fame was his inability to brew potions for shite.

'Cruciatus,' he said dismissively. 'Just got bumped around a bit.'

'This entire lot received the Cruciatus?' Daphne began by waving her wand over him to diagnose what was wrong. A few cuts and bruises from writhing on the ground, but otherwise OK. His nerves were still throbbing from the torture curse though. Daphne would have to make a huge batch of pain relieving potions again soon. That potion promised to see a lot of action this year.

'We were in detention,' Neville explained sullenly. 'The damn snakes seemed to enjoy practising it on us.'

Daphne shuttered. She's heard what some of her house mates were up to this year, volunteering to help with detentions for extra credit. Apparently they enjoyed using the Dark Arts enough to spend their free time torturing fellow students. This was quite the haul though. For all of them to be in detention together they must've been doing something as a group.

There was also the interesting fact that Neville didn't even recognize her as a Slytherin. Her name was one thing but how could he not recognize that she's that blonde girl who wears a green tie? Is she really so forgettable?

Not that I care, she thought. Kind of. I mean really, I'm quite pretty, you'd think a stupid boy would notice.

'What were you all doing?' she asked as she healed his minor hurts.

Longbottom leaned past her to check the door, apparently to make sure the Carrows weren't peeking in to spy on him.

'Dumbledore's Army is still recruiting,' he whispered. 'I know you weren't in it the first time, but you can join if you want. We need to get ready to fight back.'

He really didn't know she was a Slytherin. Not that she would ever dob them in. He just so happened to pick the Slytherin who supported his cause. From afar anyway. She had no desire to join secret clubs that landed her in incredibly painful detentions. They really needed to do a better job of not getting caught. It wasn't the first time they've been in here, though Madam Pomfrey usually takes care of them while Daphne brews potions.

'I'm a healer, not a fighter,' she said evenly. 'I'll leave the fighting to you Gryffindors.'

'Well there's Ravenclaws here too,' he said, gesturing to Padma Patil in the bed next to them.

Does he think I'm a Ravenclaw?

'Really, anyone is welcome,' he continued. ' 'Cept snakes.'

Daphne couldn't stop the smirk. 'Take this potion and you can go, but come back if it's too painful. You can also spend the night here if you like.'

'I'll be fine. I'll wait for the others if that's alright.'

With a nod, she moved on. She couldn't help but wonder if Longbottom noticed the trepidation in some of his club members' eyes when a Slytherin came at them wand in hand as their healer for the evening. It wasn't as if she didn't understand the feeling, but it would've been nice if they at least showed they trusted her a bit more after she healed their hurts. But she wouldn't dwell on it.

Despite many mutterings from various students at her snake-ish presents, by the time the oblivious Longbottom left, he smiled at her, blushing all the while, and reminding her in a whisper to think about what he asked. She'd never been smiled at by a Gryffindor before. There was the slim possibility that she was wrong. Maybe he did know what house she was in and was still being friendly. It was kind of nice, if she was being honest.

'They didn't give you too much trouble?' Madam Pomfrey asked when all but the girl with the bleeding arm left – she was to stay overnight.

'Nothing I couldn't handle.' She winced at the late hour when she checked her gold watch.

'I can handle the clean-up, Greengrass. You're free for the evening. And thank you for all the help, I'm not usually fond of taking an often incompetent student under my wing, but I'm pleased to say you're quite capable as a Healer.'

'Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,' Daphne said genuinely, beaming at the matron.

She supposed some of the things she's learned from her mother helped prepare her better for this, but receiving Madam Pomfrey's praise felt fantastic. It was much more gratifying than handing in an essay and receiving a single letter that determined how well she did on it. Even if she managed an O. You really couldn't beat real life experience.

Unfortunately, she'd have to eat her words the next weekend as she was walking through Hogsmeade with her best friend, her best friend's boyfriend, and the boy that seemed to wish he were her boyfriend. Some real life experiences could very easily be beat. The day consisted of Kevin carrying out awkward conversation while Daphne tried very hard to not say something snippy. This became rather difficult when Tracey dragged them all to Madam Puddifoot's tea shop then somehow managed to get two different tables, leaving Daphne alone with Entwhistle in some terrible attempt to set them up.

'So …' Kevin so'd for the seventh time. At least. 'Er – So … h-how do you like healing with Madam Pomfrey?'

'It's quite fulfilling,' Daphne answered with forced politeness.

'Yeah – yeah, I bet.' Kevin exuded relief that he finally found a topic to talk about. 'I overheard some of my roommates mention you healed them the other day.'

'Overheard?' Daphne queried, finding she was actually genuinely curious. 'Are you not on friendly terms with them?'

'Nah, not really,' he shrugged. 'Michael's alright sometimes. Anthony and Terry are with Potter's lot. Can't leave well enough alone.'

'Potter's lot?'

'Oh – you know that club they had in fifth year that got Dumbledore sacked?'

How could she forget? Even if she wanted to, Pansy wouldn't have allowed it with how much she bragged loudly after they caught Potter's club red handed. Not that they were actually doing anything wrong. Potter was just teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts because it wasn't really being taught that year. Considering the number of "Potter's lot" that were in the NEWT class, he must have been pretty competent at it – Kevin didn't make that cut. That's probably what Longbottom was doing this year, what with the terrible Dark Arts class that's being taught. Though learning from Longbottom in that subject was somehow less appealing. Then again, the boy did say quite plainly that the purpose of the club was to fight back, not learn.

Apparently Kevin took Daphne's thoughtful silence as an affirmation, because he continued as such.

'Well anyway, it's pretty obvious that they're at it again. Without Potter, obviously, because he did a runner. Bloody coward.'

'Coward?' Daphne asked, surprised at the venom in his voice. 'He'd be a fool if he returned here.'

'Well after what he did to Dumbledore he's obviously just –'

'Wait, what?' Daphne blurted. 'What are you talking about?'

Kevin gave her a dumbfounded look.

'Don't you read the Prophet?' He used that Ravenclaw tone he sometimes got that implied he's smarter than everyone else. Which he very obviously wasn't.

'You actually believe that?' Daphne questioned incredulously.

'Well of course I do! They wouldn't publish it if it wasn't the truth. You think they didn't do their research? The only reason he's not locked in Azkaban right now is because everyone let's him get away with murder – and I do mean literally – because of what they say he did. But really? Kill the Dark Lord as a toddler? It's all lies. And he's just continuing the lie because he loves the attention. The Goblet of Fire was just the tip of the iceberg. Dumbledore wasn't playing nice with him anymore so he offed him, blamed it on Professor Snape because he always hated Professor Snape. Well, Aurors don't actually believe that, do they? Why would they make Snape Headmaster if he did in Dumbledore? Then look who's undesirable number one all of a sudden. It's all Potter I'm telling you.'

Daphne's hands were furiously rubbing her temples at this point, willing the headache that was creeping up on her to go away so she could deal with this idiot without distractions.

Be nice, be nice, be nice, she thought – she failed.

'I'm pretty sure you're the stupidest person I've ever met,' she said.

In all honesty she was in awe at how gullible he was. Even the Prophet wasn't consistent with their story, to the point where they completely contradicted themselves when the Dark Lord took over. So does he just believe the latest thing he reads and dismisses everything else? He's a complete nutter!

Beyond that, is he blind to what's happening around him? Maybe he actually does support the Dark Lord, and maybe he finds it completely normal for the Cruciatus curse to be used in the middle of the Great Hall as punishment. He's not in the Dark Arts class but that was because he wasn't in the Defence NEWT class either. He was probably disappointed he couldn't be, seems the type to enjoy it.

A mental image popped into her head of him sipping tea and reading the Prophet while innocent Muggle-borns were being murdered directly behind him that he never saw. She hated that boy. And now that she thought of it, that was her first ever date! And he ruined it by being a complete moronic psychopath!

By the time she started calming down she was already most of the way back to school, her hand still stinging from when she slapped him across the face. After a quick trip to her rooms to grab her bag, she went immediately to the hospital wing, planning to get some homework done if there were no patients there, but would help Madam Pomfrey if she needed it.

But of course, it was hardly ever empty these days. In fact there were three faces sitting in bed that she's seen far too often of late.

'Daphne, get these three dealt with, I don't have the bloody patience for them right now! They seem incapable of listening to reason!'

The matron stomped off in a huff, slamming the door to the back room and leaving the three students behind. It was obvious the rant had been going on for quite some time based on the redness of Madam Pomfrey's face. Daphne could understand the frustration. As a healer, it doesn't feel good to see the holes you patch up being cut open again so quickly. Especially when it could be prevented by the owners of those injuries.

Daphne eyed Longbottom, Weasley and Lovegood curiously. They looked as if they were once more at the receiving end of the Cruciatus. Without a word, she took the robes she wore while working in the hospital wing off the hook by the back wall and shut the curtains to one of the end beds to change, pulling her hair into a ponytail as she always did when working in the hospital wing. She had a brooch that was one of her most prized possessions that she was always sure to transfer over. The piece was goblin silver and enchanted to hold a unicorn horn. It was very rare and very expensive and has been handed down from mother to daughter or grandmother to granddaughter for years. Daphne's paternal grandmother gave it to her before she passed, it skipped a generation because she had all boys.

There wasn't much jewellery made with pure unicorn horns, as they were so tricky to harvest. That is to say it was downright impossible. To take a unicorn's horn by force would destroy the purity of the horn, leaving only a hollow shell of its previous magic to remain, but if a unicorn offers a horn of its own free will, then it remains pure, as pure as the unicorn itself. There were a few stories her grandmother told her about how their ancestor received a horn from a unicorn; one story claims she saved it from a hunter's trap, another says that she helped heal a dying forest and the unicorn was grateful for its rescued home. Whatever the truth, the brooch was invaluable to Daphne, and she was careful to bring it wherever she went, it always made her smile to pull the long horn from its magically enhanced casing that is the brooch and just admire it. Not only was it beautiful, but it was deadly useful too. As a healer, a tool so pure was effective at negating curses and Dark Magic. It wasn't perfect, but her mother said certain kinds of magic simply would not be able to stand against it, so if she is to be a Healer she must keep it safe.

Her annoyance from Kevin returned when she slipped the horn away and stepped out to regard the most frequent visitors to the hospital wing these days. These three were the complete opposite of Kevin Entwhistle though. As the boy would say, they were Potter's lot. They weren't hiding from the truth behind the Prophet, they were fighting back in their own small ways. Really weren't doing a good job of it so far though, and it created a great deal of work for Daphne.

'What is it that you keep doing that you keep getting caught?' Daphne asked annoyedly as she began to work on Longbottom – who was the most injured as per usual. 'Can't you just keep your meetings a secret?'

'We're recruiting,' Longbottom said sullenly, though Daphne had a feeling he was sullen because of the admonishment Madam Pomfrey gave him, not from being on the receiving end of the Cruciatus, 'and we can't exactly do that quietly. It's not time to fight back yet. We take out Snape and the Carrows then Voldemort –'

She gave a violent shudder at the sudden mention of the name.

'– will just show up and things will get even worse. The time will come though. You should join.'

Daphne gave him a cutting glare. 'Who would patch you up if I was just as beat up as you?'

'Well if you joined us we wouldn't have to get yelled at by Madam Pomfrey,' Weasley said cheekily.

Daphne turned her glare at the red-haired girl, but she just laughed. It was really getting curious, they must know what house she belonged to, but they weren't showing her even the slightest bit of distrust. Distrust they've shown to every other member of her house.

'My plan this year is to lay low – then leave the country,' Daphne said evenly. 'What you're doing isn't exactly laying low.'

'You'll just abandon this fight?'

Weasley's attitude shifted so suddenly that Daphne paused in healing Longbottom, glancing over at the girl who was now wearing a glare of her own.

'As I told Longbottom,' She thrust a pain relieving potion at the boy, 'I'm a healer, not a fighter.'

Weasley grumbled something else about fighting back, but didn't make any further attempts at shaming her into joining their little group. It wouldn't work anyway. She didn't feel ashamed for not standing against the coming wave, she was standing against it in her own way. By healing these three who would go fight the bad guys, however fanciful and unrealistic that felt to Daphne. What could they possibly do against the Dark Lord?

Weasley was quiet through her own healing, seeming like her mind was drifting far away as she looked out a high window. Daphne thought she could guess where her mind went. Her boyfriend, if that's still what he was, was off fighting in his own way. Probably with the girl's brother and Granger at his side. He didn't have a Madam Pomfrey to go to if he got cut up though, he would have to manage on his own. Maybe Granger could patch them up, she was probably even more capable than Daphne as a healer, she was always a cut above.

'Have you heard from him?' Daphne found herself asking, her curiosity too strong to hold it back.

Weasley looked at her sadly for a moment before turning back to the window without saying a word.

Lovegood was last, looking as dreamy as ever. She stayed silent for the entire time too, just stared at her. It was slightly unsettling, but Daphne's heard about how strange Lovegood was. The girl's own housemates call her Loony – Cornfoot and Entwhistle have called her as such in Daphne's hearing. Entwhistle's lack of endorsement was probably the biggest reason Daphne refused to let the younger girl's silver eyes bother her too much. Anyone who he didn't like was good in Daphne's books. At least as long as she was still in a rage about the stupidity of the boy. She'd return to forming her own opinions of people once her ire cooled down some.

It was only when Daphne had finished and the three were leaving when Lovegood spoke to her. Her eyes had barely left Daphne since she started and she kept staring as Longbottom and Weasley were walking out, finally saying in a dreamy voice, 'You really would make a good fit, you know. Not everyone would agree, but you're strong enough to deal with them too, I think.'

With that, she was skipping out of the hospital wing to catch up to her friends.

Daphne could guess what Lovegood meant. Probably that she could handle the cutting remarks she'd receive as a Slytherin joining their little group. Whether she would make a good fit, well, as a healer she probably would. She served a purpose that they could make use of. Whether there was more to Lovegood's words than what was obvious was unclear. Daphne wouldn't dwell. She had her plans and she was sticking to them, no matter what. Her running off with some secret group wouldn't keep Tracey and Astoria safe, and those were the people she cared about most. Though now that she thinks about it, her best friend might be a little mad at her.