Chapter Twenty-Two: Hogsmeade

"You did what?"

It had been about two hours since Harry and Daphne had returned from the lake. Two hours since Daphne had decided to turn her own world upside for something she wanted. And only five seconds since she had confided this information in both her sister and Tracey. They were sitting in the Room of Requirement, the same room that Harry always conjured for their homework sessions, filled with plush seating and warm fireplaces. But whatever warmth was being produced by the fires, did not stop the increasingly cold feeling spreading through Daphne.

"I kissed him."

"And mum's going to what? Kick you out?"

"I presume so, yes."

"But why? Astoria continued to protest, there were already tears shimmering in her eyes.

"Because right now Harry's not the type of person our dear, cowardly mother wants me to be associated with. I think she was rather hoping she could avoid this whole upcoming war and just go back to how things were when all the fighting's done. Being with Harry, well, that rather complicates things."

"And you're okay with that? You're okay with not coming home?"

"Tori, she didn't have a choice." Tracey said, quietly. She was standing by the fire, while Tori and Daphne sat opposite one another on the annoyingly comfortable sofas. For once, Daphne wanted her surroundings to be as uncomfortable as the mess currently tearing her consciousness apart. "Imagine going home after all this. How could they ever talk to each other again?"

"They don't talk anyway," Astoria snapped, "well, you don't. You just hide in your room. It's fine, it worked. You just had to wait two more years, then you could've left. It'd have been fine."

"Maybe," Daphne sighed, "but I don't think so. Not unless Harry wins, anyway. Then I'm sure she'd have loved it. Tori, you know I never fitted in. I was never the daughter she wanted. I'd have been kicked out of the family at some point for this."

"Fine," Astoria nodded, seeming to come to some form of decision. Her usually pretty face was set. Her jaw locked, her eyes steely. It was like looking into a particularly disturbing mirror. "Where would you go?"

"My folks have said they're happy to have you," Tracey said, "I owled them last week. Mum's a bit worried, obviously, but fine about it all."

"Okay, well, that's good. At least you'll be safe." She took a long breath, wiping the tears from her eyes. "But we're not stopping talking, no way. I've had that for years, I'm not going back to it. Mum can go be dragon bait for all I care. Trace's right, you can't go back after she's said that and neither can I."

"What? No. No way. You're thirteen."

"Like fifteen's so much older," Astoria bit back. "And you're right, Daph. You're not the daughter mum wanted. I am. She'll have a harder time getting rid of me too. So we stick together. Both or neither. I'd like to see her kick you out then."

"It's not worth it."

"But you're my sister, I'm not going to just never talk to you again."

"It won't be forever, just a little while. And we can meet like this, in here." She gestured to the room which was keeping them safe, stopping anyone else in the castle from finding them. "It can be like our own little sanctuary."

"And that's good enough for you, is it?"

"It's better than the alternative. Look, mum'd kick us both out if she thought there was a chance you were just as bad as me. She'd sooner let the Greengrasses become Rookwoods."

"But dad —"

"Dad's not here anymore, Tori." Daphne said, cutting across her sister. "Mum won't even think before letting this family die. If you want to help dad, then we pretend like we're doing what we're told. Both of us. It's safer for you, for mum, if everyone thinks we don't talk."

"Please don't do this, there's got to be something we can do?" Astoria's eyes were brimming with tears and it took all Daphne had not to cry with her. They'd spent so long thinking the other one hated them, to finally be back on speaking terms for months had been amazing. But like everything, it seemed, it had to end. Daphne had, after all, made her choice. Now, no matter how much she loathed it, she had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

"I'm sorry, this is how it's got to be. But we'll still talk, Tori, I promise. It's just… safer this way."

Left unsaid was the spectre of Voldemort, hanging high above them. Neither Daphne nor Astoria were old enough to remember what had happened last time, but they'd heard the stories, seen the family trees die out. Root and branch eridaction. And then there'd be the Death Eaters trying to get to Harry through her, Daphne was sure of it. It was safer if she left, safer if everyone thought she'd been banished, safer for Tori. She could live her life, while Daphne lived hers. But that didn't make it any easier.

Try as Astoria might, and she did for the next week, there was no assuaging Daphne. As stubborn as their mother, she point blank refused to back down, no matter how much it broke her own heart to do so. They settled on a regular meeting, every Sunday afternoon, when everyone was either relaxing or studying they'd meet up and talk. It wasn't perfect, and Daphne hated it more than she wanted to admit, but there was no other option. It was either that, or never see Astoria again.

With the decision made, Daphne sent an owl to her mother, informing her that she would not be doing as she had been instructed. It was not an easy letter to write and it had taken almost an entire evening to screw up the courage to actually send the damn thing.

The following few days were some of the most stressful Daphne remembered. Neither she nor Astoria spoke much to anyone, keeping to themselves and ignoring their fellow Slytherins. This was much easier for Astoria than Daphne, who was having a hard time keeping the rumours of her budding relationship with Harry quiet. At least until her mother replied. She didn't think she could deal with hatred everywhere he went as she tried desperately to enjoy the last few days she had with her sister.

Harry, at least, was as supportive as he had ever been. Instead of asking if she was alright, he carried on as if everything were normal and she couldn't be more grateful. He was probably one of the few people who understood what she was going through. What little she knew of his life outside Hogwarts was filled with the same hatred she seemed to spark in her mother. It was just nice being with him. For a few hours she could forget the pressures being placed on her from all sides and just relax. The kissing wasn't bad either.

The only change that really affected her daily routine, outside of anxiously checking the post owls every morning, was an announcement from Dumbledore the Monday after her mother's attempt at parenting.

"If I could have everyone's attention," he called merrily, gently hitting his goblet with a spoon. The Great Hall went silent, looking up at the staff table. Professor Herring was absent. Instead, sitting in his seat, was a woman who was all too familiar to Daphne. She glanced at Harry who was staring, open-mouthed. Neville too had gone white. Some of the older Slytherins recognised the man who made Professor McGonagall look positively friendly.

"As I am sure you are aware we have been in need of a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor since the," a wry smile cut an almost imperceptible shape in his white beard, "unfortunate departure of Madam Umbridge." There was some sniggering from the Gryffindor table as Fred and George whooped. Dumbeldore pretended not to notice. "So please join me in welcoming our newest Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Shacklebolt."

The all-new Professor come auror nodded, opting not to give a misguided speech like Umbridge had. "Professor Shacklebolt has kindly agreed to step in for the rest of the year," Dumbledore continued, rather happily. "At which point a new professor will be appointed. That is all."

"Not messing about is he?" Tracey muttered as the rest of the Great Hall broke out into similar musings of their own. "Isn't he that bloke from your interviews, the auror?"

"Yeah," No doubt Madam Bones, having seen the disastrous fate that had befallen Susan, had taken it upon herself to act and send Kingsley to be her protector at Hogwarts. Just another ripple Daphne hadn't seen coming from her bid to take down Umbridge. She wondered just how many more there would be. She needn't wait long to find out, for a few minutes later the post arrived and Daphne, her heart sinking, spotted her family owl swooping towards her.

Silently, and without looking at Tracey or Astoria who were both sitting opposite her with grave expressions on their face, Daphne opened it. It was surprisingly short, and simply read:

If that is how it must be. I will not condone your friendship with Potter, but you always have a home here.

Frowning, Daphne turned it over, expecting to find more writing on the other side. But it was blank. Dully, she passed it to Astoria, who breathed a sigh of relief and beamed from ear to ear.

"Brilliant!" She looked positively fit to burst with happiness, but Daphne, who had never known her mother to back down without a fight or even a self-righteous argument, stared at the letter in amazement. Something wasn't right, something she couldn't put her finger on. The Melissa Greengrass she knew would never back down like that, never let her win. She'd sooner die than let Daphne tarnish her precious family name. So why now? Why just roll over? Astoria? True, Astoria was the favourite, was the one Melissa wanted to parade around and impress other witches and wizards with, but was that really enough?

She told Astoria none of this, nor did she write back. Days passed as she waited for another letter, hoping that her own indifference would spark some kind of a reply. A dialogue. But there was nothing. No letter, not even a Howler screaming at her to make the right choices, nothing at all. It was most peculiar.

The matter was, temporarily, pushed from her mind however as the Hogsmeade weekend loomed ever closer. She had never really been on a date before. Not a proper one, where she actually got on with the guy she was going with. There had been the Yule Ball, but she had rather been forced into going with someone out of desperation as opposed to attraction. This time, well, she was beginning to panic.

What did she wear? What did they do, had Harry planned anything? Ron and Tracey were going to visit the joke shop before heading to a rather disgustingly romantic tea room that Daphne had only ever seen and wished to burn down on sight. The thought of being dragged inside, sipping tea and being surrounded by other couples made her feel sick.

It was not just the date itself that worried her, there was also the matter of Pansy Parkinson, who was making it her life's work to annoy Daphne into submission. Snide comments about Harry greeted her whenever she was in the dormitory. Threats, whispers and even some rather lurid jibes about certain aspects of Harry that Pansy had not right even thinking about, were with her every waking moment inside the Slytherin Common Room. And that was without them actually knowing anything.

The morning of the trip, Daphne waited until she was sure that Parkinson and her gang had disappeared for breakfast before doubling back to the dorm to dress properly. It took her a full thirty minutes of agonising to finally pick out her favourite dark green set of robes and matching scarf. She had toyed with the idea of muggle clothing, knowing that most of Harry's clothes came from that world and not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. But the only things she could find were a skirt that was far too short for her now, a knitted jumper and a pair of jeans she suspected she could no longer fit into.

Then came everything else. She tried valiantly to apply what little she knew how to do, but after ten minutes of charms, ointments and various Sleekeazy's products, she gave up. After all, Harry had seen her looking her usual, normal self for months. In truth, she knew he wouldn't care. The potions were, if she was honest with herself, for her own benefit. There was something to be said with feeling a smidge of confidence about how she looked and as she regarded herself in the mirror she decided she didn't look too bad.

By the time she made it to the Great Hall breakfast was almost over. There was just enough to grab a slice of toast, tell Astoria to behave before she accompanied Tracey to find Ron and Harry who were waiting in the Entrance Hall. It was blatantly obvious to Daphne, as they approached the two, how awkward she and Harry were. Compared to Ron and Tracey who beamed at one another and hugged as soon as they could, she and Harry looked like strangers. Thankfully, Tracey was able to whisk Ron away before he could say too much and Daphne was left with a very nervous looking Harry.

He was dressed in a maroon knitted jumper, the white collar of his shirt poking out over the neckline, and dark, slightly baggy jeans. She was suddenly very aware of how very wizarding she looked and how muggle he appeared. They might as well have come from different planets. Deciding that Harry was clearly incapable of speech, Daphne forced herself to smile. It was just Harry, after all. They'd been friends for months, she'd met his godfather for crying out loud. She tried to tell her palms to stop sweating and her heart to quit hammering.

"You look nice," she managed, as a gaggle of eager third-years tore past them, permission slips in hand. It was weird, looking at Harry and knowing that he knew how she felt and that he wasn't running away. She'd only ever told anyone she fancied them once before and it had not ended well. Ah, the Yule Ball. What a great evening that had been.

"Yeah, I mean, so do you. Really nice," he was smiling, though seemed to be playing everything he said back in his head, as he added, hastily, "I like your hair."

Daphne, trying not to blush at the sudden influx of compliments, felt herself relax. It was clear he was just as nervous as she was, and why should they be? So instead of carrying on like something out of one of her books, she said: "I'd say the same about you, but you never could tame it." She grinned at him. "But don't worry. I like it. Now, c'mon, we'd better get going. Can't stand around here all day. Unless you had something else in mind."

She couldn't help but enjoy the flush that spread across his cheeks. Laughing she dragged him forward, earning herself quite a few stares from passers-by, including Fred and George Weasley who grinned eagerly at Harry as he passed.

Once they were outside, it was a lot easier to just talk like they always had. Harry told her all about Ron's plans for Tracey, which included getting a set of chocolates made with her name on while she wasn't looking. It was rather endearing, hearing it from Ron's side, as Tracey had deliberately kept quiet about the whole thing. Probably, Daphne was convinced, because of all the trouble she'd been having just trying to have the possibility of dating Harry. It wasn't any girl's dream to have their best friend's perfect relationship shoved in her face when her own love life felt as though it were being slaughtered by a dragon. But she still wished Tracey had told her more. She made a mental note to ask the next time they were alone.

Their chat was interrupted though by the gigantic form of Hagrid, who was holding an enormous crossbow. One of his eyes was almost welded shut by bruising, but he seemed cheerful enough as he waved to Harry. Daphne, who had never seen the point in Care of Magical Creatures, had only ever really heard Malfoy talking about how stupid and irritating Hagrid was. In fact, she wasn't entirely sure she had ever spoken to him before.

"Y'alright, Harry!" Hagrid called, "off to the village, are yeh?"

"Yeah," said Harry, staring in concern up at Hagrid. "Hagrid, is that another cut?"

"What? Oh, it's fine. It's nothin'." Hagrid shrugged, his massive shoulders shifting underneath his moleskin coat. "I'm fine, Harry." Seemingly desperate to change the subject he asked, "and who's this you've got with yeh?"

"My name's Daphne Greengrass," Daphne smiled, trying her best to be polite.

"Ah, yer Daphne!" Hagrid beamed underneath his wild beard. "Harry's told me all about you o' course."

"Has he really?" Harry had once again gone red and refused to look at either Hagrid or Daphne.

"Oh yeah," continued Hagrid, apparently unaware of the embarrassment radiating from Harry like steam. "Loads. Only last week he was down here sayin' how nice yeh are. It's good to put a face to the name. Mind, I knew yer dad. Back when he was at Hogwarts. Nice bloke, he was. Shame what happened to him." It felt as though a bucket of ice had been thrown over her. This time even Hagrid was aware something was wrong. He coughed awkwardly and gave another massive movement. "Anyway, what are yeh up to?"

"We're not sure yet," Harry said, quickly. Daphne was aware, rather surprisingly, that Harry had taken her hand. A sudden warmth shot through her, and despite the sudden pang of sadness which had been ready to consume her at the mention of her father, she felt herself grinning up at him. "Probably get something to eat and have a look round."

"Well, don't do nothin' I wouldn't." He looked sheepishly at Daphne before clearing his throat. "Well, I'd best be off, lots to do." He swung the great crossbow onto his shoulder. "See yeh later, Harry. Lovely to meet yeh, Daphne."

And with that, the half-giant sauntered off towards the forest, almost taking out a young Ravenclaw and his girlfriend as he did so.

"Where's he going?"

"No idea, he's been going in there for ages," Harry said, watching Hagrid as he disappeared into the tree line. "You alright? I know you don't like —"

"It's fine, Harry. Really. Thank you, though." She gave his hand a quick squeeze, but didn't let go as they continued down the path towards Hogsmeade. People were staring now. "He's right though, we should probably think of something to do."

"Well, Hermione wants me to talk to Skeeter at lunchtime," Harry said, "so I reckon we can have a look round the shops, see if we want to get anything. Then maybe lunch?" He faltered for a moment. "There is somewhere to get food, right?"

The Three Broomsticks was not renowned for its cooking and Daphne didn't dare go into the Hog's Head again. "There's a small place just off the main high street, The Olde Nook, it's been there years. We could try there?"

In truth, Daphne had been several times before. Hogsmeade in her third-year had been a lot more difficult when Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, whom she had been hanging out with vaguely at the time, had both started dating and wanted to visit that damned coffee shop. Daphne, in her desperation to avoid Malfoy, had wound up having lunch at the Nook and found the old restaurant to be a lot more enjoyable than the constantly crowded Three Broomsticks.

"Sure." He noticed a small group of girls were pointing at them and gawking. "You alright with… this?"

"People had to find out eventually, besides, it wouldn't be a date if we couldn't hold hands now, would it?"

Any anguish on his face died at the word date. They had a lovely time poking around the various shops, Daphne bought herself a new set of quills and insisted that she get Harry a decent set as he'd been using the same quill since he'd arrived at Hogwarts. In return, he bought her a large chocolate dragon egg that they ended up sharing as they meandered away from the prying eyes of students in the town. They ended up sitting on a large rock, looking out onto the Shrieking Shack.

"You know it isn't haunted, right?"

"No?"

"Yeah, it was Professor Lupin," Harry told her, snapping the final piece of the dragon egg in half and handing her the bigger one. "When he was at Hogwarts, they needed somewhere safe for him to, you know." He mimed growing huge limbs and Daphne laughed. "Anyway, that's where he went. There's a tunnel under the Whomping Willow. And my dad and Sirius taught themselves how to become Animagi, so Professor Lupin wouldn't hurt them."

"Is that why your Patronus is a stag?"

"Yeah," Harry said, rather proudly. "Sirius could turn into a dog, still can. That's how he got out of Azkaban."

"Why doesn't he just turn into a dog and visit here then?"

Harry grimaced. "Pettigrew," he said the name as if every syllable pained him. "He knows Sirius can turn into a dog, you see. And, well that means Malfoy's dad does too and you can bet if Sirius showed up he'd let it slip. Surprised he hasn't already."

"There's time, we've not got a new Minister yet. No doubt Lucius will be hand-picking just the right person for the job, one who makes the right noises but looks the other way long enough for You Know… Voldemort to go 'round killing people."

Harry said nothing. Instead, he put an arm around her and Daphne let herself sink into his shoulder, staring out at the dilapidated shack. They sat like that for a long time, letting the world drift by. There were all sorts of silences, Daphne was painfully aware of the awkward one, where people had no clue what to say or simply were too angry to speak. But this was something different. It wasn't that they didn't want to speak, just that they were comfortable. The company was its own reward. She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his heart beating, and wishing the moment would never end. It was perfect.

They stopped only when Harry checked his watch and told her they were almost at lunchtime. So they picked up their gifts and headed to lunch. They talked about anything and everything. Quidditch, what they reckoned Kingsely was going to be like as the Defence professor, how Harry was finding dealing with more and more DA students, and what Runes Daphne was studying that week. Harry was very good at showing an interest, especially in things he knew nothing about. She supposed it had something to do with being raised in the muggle world, even after five years as a wizard there was probably so much he didn't know.

It was that same upbringing that made everything so easy, she supposed. There was no expectation, no talk of their families and what their parents would make of their 'courting' as her mother insisted on calling it. Tucked away in the tiny restaurant they were just two people, having a date, and it was amazing.

That all changed when they arrived at the Three Broomsticks.

It was unsurprisingly rammed with students, Daphne spotted Tracey and Ron at a corner table, Fred and George by the bar selling their latest products and at the far end of the bar Hermione and the rather severe looking Rita Skeeter. Her hair was tied back in an incredibly tight bun and her dark green eyes regarded Hermione with the look of a woman who was used to reading people like cheaply available books. It was more than a little unnerving. Hermione, clearly desperate for someone to rescue her, waved at Harry almost as soon as they entered.

"You go," Daphne said to him. She glanced over at Ron and Tracey, intent on joining them, but noticed that they had suddenly chosen that moment to become locked at the lips. "I'll be fine. Honestly. Just get a drink or something."

Rather begrudgingly Harry himself be pushed into the crowd and towards the vicious-looking reporter. A pang of guilt surged through Daphne. It was one thing sending him to her because this woman was interviewing him, it was quite another hiding in case the woman asked awkward questions about her mother. Journalists, proper journalists and not Rita Skeeter, would have done their research and she wasn't prepared to deal with that conversation just yet.

She regretted her decision almost immediately.

When she had managed to squeeze through to the bar, intent on ordering a butterbeer, an all too familiar voice drained the joy from the room.

"Funny seeing you here, Greengrass." Malfoy, flanked as always by Crabbe and Goyle, sidled up to her through a space created by the aforementioned bodyguards. "I'd have thought you'd be hiding away somewhere, too ashamed to show your face." He laughed but there was no mirth in it. "I know I would. Gallivanting around with Potter for all the world to see."

"Haven't you got other people to go and annoy?" Daphne asked coolly, refusing to look at him but instead focusing on Madam Rosmerta who was irritatingly busy with Fred and George. "Or has Parkinson finally realised you're about as interesting as Binns?"

Malfoy smirked. It was unnerving, usually he was so quick to be provoked. "You think you're so much better than the rest of us," he said, leaning casually against the bar. "When the truth is you're so much worse. It's sad really. I'd say I pity you, but…" Daphne watched in the mirror behind the bar as his smirk grew wider. "Well, you deserve it. If I were you I'd drop Potter and let your loyalties lie where they belong. Otherwise, I imagine it will get rather dangerous for you."

It took all she had to not ask what he was drivelling about. He knew something, something no doubt his precious father had told him. But it wasn't worth rising to it. So instead, she said as casually as she could, "my loyalties are not your problem, Malfoy."

"I'm only trying to help," he raised his hands, that annoying smirk still curling his lips. "Father told me your mother's not kicking you out." He scoffed. "If it were me I think my mother would have been banished. Still, I guess at least she knows her place."

"Unlike other people I could mention." Daphne spat back, but her mind was too busy paying attention to the mention of her mother to give it any real thought. Why would Lucius Malfoy know what her mother was doing?

"Yes, I did always think Potter was an upstart." Out of the corner of her eye, Daphne could see both Ron and Tracey had finally stopped snogging and had noticed just who was talking to her. "Just like his parents, they got what was coming to them. Just like you and Potter will too."

"You realise this isn't at all intimidating?" Daphne asked, interestedly. "I mean sure, when we were younger your troll pets might have frightened me but really, now? Now you just look pathetic."

Once again he remained uncharacteristically calm. Instead of flying off the handle or seething quietly, he leant forwards so that only she could hear what he said. "We'll see who is pathetic when the Dark Lord kills Potter. He'll give you a chance, I suggest you take it."

Daphne was prevented from finally caving and asking what the hell he meant when Madam Rosmertta's voice loudly asked. "And what can I get you?"

Malfoy loudly gave his order before adding, "nothing for her. She's just leaving. See you around, Greengrass."

Irritated, but above all confused, Daphne let herself be pushed away from the bar by a throng of students all eager to grab a drink, or in the case of some of the younger boys a look at Madam Rosmerta. In the corner, Tracey was ushering her over, quickly summoning a chair from an emptying table. It would have been nice to be able to sit down, but Daphne was prevented from doing so as, once again, her attention was grabbed by an unwelcome source. Only this time it wasn't Malfoy.

"You're dating Harry Potter," said a girl with curly hair.

"Aren't you?" asked a second girl, less presumptuous but nevertheless more interested than her friend. A third girl was glaring at Daphne with the type of animosity usually reserved for tax collectors and people with better broomsticks.

"Is it true he fought You Know Who last year?" the curly-haired girl asked again. She couldn't be much older than Astoria. "I bet he did. He's so…" she actually gasped. "Brave."

Daphne had half a mind to jinx the girl, it was just that kind of an afternoon and all she wanted to do was sit down and be ignored. Why couldn't people just leave alone? Sure, she'd known that Harry was, well, Harry, but she thought people would have more self-restraint. After all, it was only really Malfoy who seemed to interrupt Harry directly. Everyone else just stared and whispered and you could ignore that with a calm stare and a bit of Occlumency. But this, this was different, this was downright annoying.

"Yes," Daphne answered, "and yes. To both questions. Now if you'll excuse me I —"

"You're so lucky," said the less forthright girl. Behind her the other friend looked as though she wanted to punch Daphne. There were so many reasons to get annoyed at this, not least of all that Daphne's luck had landed her with a mother that hated her. But she couldn't help, even as she faced a gang of wouldbe girlfriends, admirers and possible stalkers of Harry, feel lucky. He had, after all, chosen her. Girls like this would flock out of the woodwork whenever it was trendy to like Harry, as it apparently was now. But he had chosen her. They were certainly better looking and she dared even suspect it would be easier to date them given that none of them were in Slytherin. But he had chosen her. It filled her chest with a warm glow and prevented her from snapping at what was said next.

"I wish I was dating him."

"Well, you're not," Daphne said simply to the curly-haired girl.

"What makes you so special?"

"Yeah, how come he picked a snake?"

"What've you got that we haven't?"

Daphne smirked, "probably something to do with the fact I don't go around harassing strangers in pubs." Then she added, a little more vindictiveness than she was usually prone to, "and he has taste."

All three girls looked as though they had just been slapped. Daphne quickly and without looking back, shoved past them and headed to the table where Tracey and Ron were sitting in silent bemusement.

"What was all that about?" Tracey asked, interestedly as one of the girls stalked off out of the pub to be followed by her little cohort.

"Well, that lot wanted to know why Harry would dare fall from his lofty Gryffindor Tower to date a disgusting, evil snake like me." Daphne began with disgust. "Malfoy wanted to tell me to break up with Harry, all in all, fun chats." She deliberately missed out the mention of her mother. She wasn't sure why, but there was something odd about it.

"I thought everyone hated Harry," Ron said nonplussed.

"Nah, not since Fudge resigned." Tracey told him, "that and the breakout, it's making people think maybe Harry and Dumbledore are, you know, telling the truth."

"Bout time."

"And with that he goes from being a vicious liar to the wonderful Boy Who Lived." Daphne added glumly. "Any idea who they were, by the way?"

"Romilda Vane, Augusta Armstrong and, oh what's her name?" Tracey stared at the bar, drumming her fingers on her very full flagon of butterbeer. "Penelope something or other. She hangs out with Ginny sometimes."

"Not much longer if she talks about Harry like that," Ron said, darkly. "Ginny'll bat-bogey her." He shuddered at the thought. It always astounded Daphne that despite coming from a family of predominantly men, Ron and his brothers all feared the women of the family more. Ginny, from what she'd seen, was a perfectly polite if not cautious girl. But that was probably something to do with Harry too.

"What've you two been up to, anyway?"

"Not much, been to Zonko's," Ron held up a bag. "Got loads of cool stuff, gonna try and see if I get the twins to eat these." He pulled out what looked like chocolate frog packets. "It turns them into frogs for a minute, be a laugh to see their faces."

"He had a very traumatic childhood," Tracey teased, smirking at Daphne.

"Just 'cause you're an only child."

"You trying living with my dad and say that again, it's like living with an infant. I swear I'm the only adult there half the time."

"Then we went to Honeydukes," Ron continued. "It was packed though, so Trace said we should come here." Like the Three Broomsticks was a haven of tranquillity. "We're going to go to the pitch later, play for a bit. You and Harry can come if you want, we can do teams."

Daphne, who hated the idea of being on a broomstick since their botched flying lessons in first year, tried her best to protect but found herself unable to under the sheer excitement beaming across Ron's face. She was halfway to forming the word 'no' when she wilted like a dying flower. Reluctantly, she agreed and that was how, an hour and a half later when Harry had finished with the Journalist, Daphne found herself walking to the Quidditch pitch with Ron, Tracey, Hermione and rather bizarrely Neville Longbottom. He had been looking rather lonely so Hermione had asked if he wanted to join them.

"How was it?" Daphne asked Harry as they trudged in pairs back up the gravel path towards Hogwarts.

"Weird," he admitted. "I kind of thought she'd laugh in my face, like the Ministry. But she didn't say anything really, just kept nodding and asking for more details. What'd he look like, was there anyone else there. That kind of thing."

"Did you give her names?"

"No," Harry said, "I was going to, but I don't know. I just kept thinking what you would have said if it were you I mean." Daphne couldn't describe it, but there was an odd sense of both pride, embarrassment and something else pulling at her heart as she looked at his earnest expression and saw nothing but honesty there.

"Probably for the best. The last thing we want is Nott, Malfoy or any of those other idiots giving us more of a hard time than they're already going to."

"That's what I thought," Harry said, slightly glumly. "You alright, by the way? I saw Malfoy laying into you at the bar."

His concern was touching but after having ranted at Ron and Tracey, unwarranted. So Daphne simply smiled and said, "I'm alright, don't worry about me. Just the usual threats and leave you alone, load of nonsense." She took his hand. "Like I'm going anywhere."

"You could, you know, if you wanted to."

"I know."

"I'm just saying," he continued quickly, his words slamming together as they fought for space in his mouth. "I know it's not easy and —"

"I know," Daphne said simply, cutting across him and squeezing his hand. "Harry, look I know it's not going to be easy. I knew that weeks ago. But trust me, if I wanted an easy life I'd date Zabini or," she shuddered, "Goyle. But I didn't. And today's been great, I know we're not…" she felt her confidence falter for a second but pressed on. "Properly dating or anything. Yet. Just know that I'm going to be here as long as you want me to be."

The coil that seemed ready to snap inside him seemed to relax. "Okay." It was odd, Daphne mused as they headed up to the pitch, at this point it should be all nerves and second-guessing but there was so much pressure on them from literally every direction that she had simply made her choice. It was strangely comfortable.

The exact opposite of flying.

The next hour saw Harry, Ron and Tracey whizzing around the pitch with practised ease and Daphne clinging to the broom they'd found for her for dear life. Harry tried, rather successfully, to show her what to do and whenever his hands wrapped around hers she felt that warmth of comfort spread through her. But then he would have to let go and suddenly the Quaffle was launched towards her by Ron. She knew for a fact they were all going easy on her. It did help and by the end of the game, despite having been battered by Ron and Tracey, Daphne did actually begin to enjoy herself.

In the stands, Hermione and Neville were chatting away quite animatedly and whenever Daphne zoomed past, desperately trying to catch the Quaffle or simply avoid Ron, she caught snippets of their rather academic but nevertheless friendly discussion. It was rather endearing, Neville had always been kind to Daphne and it was nice to see him actually coming out of his shell.

As the winter sun began to set early, Daphne and the others dismounted their brooms and headed back to the castle. Without saying anything they split off again, Neville and Hermione hurrying off to get food while Tracey and Ron disappeared to their separate dorms to put away their brooms. That left Daphne and Harry in an increasingly busy Entrance Hall.

"I loved today," Daphne said, breaking the slightly odd silence that had fallen between them. They were both becoming increasingly aware of the dozens of eyes on them. "Really loved it."

"Me too, it was great."

A few weeks ago, Daphne would have just left it at that. Made some excuses and headed off. Not because she was embarrassed by him, but because she was embarrassed by herself. She'd pretend as she could to the rest of the world, there was a part of her that wasn't happy with how she looked, the way treated people, even her relationship with her treacherous mother. Self-criticism and worry had cut her off from people, yet Harry had never once judged her. Never once said she wasn't good enough. If she was being honest with herself, and she rarely was, she knew she wasn't good enough for him. He was the saviour of the wizarding world. Hero. An all-round good guy. But more than that he was kind, funny, honest, supportive and more loving than anyone she knew. She, Daphne, who made snide comments that cut deep and pushed away her sister for so many years didn't deserve that. But she'd be damned if she wasn't going to hold onto him as long as she could.

She smiled, reaching up and snaking an arm around his shoulders before kissing him. People actually audibly gasped but she ignored them. So did Harry. The moment seemed to hang there, still in time, like it would never end. Then, as all things had to, it did. He was blushing, but grinning like an idiot and too late she realised she was too.

"Go on, put that thing away before Filch has you for breaking some stupid school rule," Daphne said.

"Right, yeah, sure." Harry's brain was clearly struggling to form words. She couldn't help but feel a little sense of victory. "See you tomorrow?"

"It's a date."

He grinned and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning and disappearing into the throng of students appearing from the upper floors. She watched him go, grinned to herself, and then headed to the Great Hall to be fully interrogated by Tracey and Astoria.