Acknowledgments: Rpeh for the beta work

You Have Witchcraft In Your Lips

"Wake up, Drunkie!" Daphne heard the sing-song voice and decided it could only mean one possible thing: that she should roll onto her side and curl up into a tighter ball while making absolutely no attempt to emerge from the warmth of her blanket cocoon. And if anyone should attempt to disrupt the sanctuary they should be hexed into utter oblivion.

"Murmmamrmm," She muttered. She intended it to be something along the lines of 'five more minutes' but that wasn't remotely what came out of her mouth. She figured it was close enough though. At least until a pillow hit her in the head.

It didn't hurt, and she hadn't fallen back asleep yet, so she figured it was best ignored. It must have just been some crazy coincidence. Her head hurt too much to think too hard about it. She focused on falling back asleep.

Then a second pillow hit her in the head. Two seemed like it couldn't have been a fluke. But she guessed there was still a small chance that it was and worth ignoring. And then the third pillow hit her in the head.

"I'm conjuring water next," the wicked witch of somewhere to the left of her said. Daphne groaned and rolled onto her back. She stared up at the lake through the ceiling. The water made her feel nauseous instantly. Or, she thought as she slammed her eyes shut, swallowing against the bile rising in her throat, maybe she felt like that anyway.

"What do you want, Astoria?" Daphne asked as she tried to sit up. Embarrassingly enough, it took her more than one attempt and the entire dormitory was spinning the entire time.

"I want to go home," Astoria said. "And given that our parents wanted to meet us in the Great Hall at noon, it seemed well past time for you to get up."

"It's noon?" Daphne groaned.

"Not yet," Astoria said.

"Why are our parents here?" she asked, feeling stupid for asking but there seemed to be a painful emptiness in her head that she wasn't quite sure how to quell at the moment.

"Did you hit your head in addition to getting black-out drunk last night?"

"I don't remember."

"They were going to take us into Hogsmeade to floo home rather than bothering with the train. They spent the night in the town after coming for your show. Does none of this ring a bell?"

"Kind of does," Daphne said, and then had the distinct memory of something she'd forgotten to do because, well, it would have been easy to do in the morning.

"Good, I was starting to worry," Astoria teased.

"I need to pack still," Daphne said. She threw the blankets off of herself only to notice she was still wearing the dress from Slughorn's party along with her heels. That couldn't have been a good sign. Well, that, and the fact that the abrupt movement drastically increased her urge to vomit.

"I packed for you," Astoria said, gesturing to the charmed bag Daphne used for holiday trips home. It was far easier than packing her entire trunk when she only needed her school books and some other odds and ends, given that she still had a full wardrobe in her room back home.

"You did?" Daphne blinked in surprise as the warning bells went off in her mind. Nothing about that felt right. Astoria wasn't the type to do things for her sister out of the goodness of her heart.

"I did," she said with an annoying cheer. "Although I only packed your books and your pajamas. If you need anything more than that you're on your own."

"That's very helpful of you," Daphne said, doing her best to focus her gaze on her sister. Astoria kept smiling at her.

"That's not even the best part. You'll never guess what your super awesome sister did after that," Astoria said.

"And what was that?" Daphne asked, feeling her stomach fall as she knew there had to be something alarming coming at the end of this conversation.

"I went to Professor Snape and asked him to brew a hangover cure for my lovely sister," Astoria said.

"There's no way he did that," Daphne said. Their Head of House wasn't big on finding ways around consequences to your own actions.

"Of course it didn't," Astoria said. "He gave me a stupid long lecture on how if I was old enough to drink then I was old enough to be responsible for the stupidity of my own actions. Honestly I think he gets off on lecturing like that. I don't even think he believed me that it was the stupidity of your actions I was trying to rectify."

"That sounds like him," Daphne sighed.

"It was one of the worst things I've ever had to do and I hated every minute of it," Astoria said.

"Very nice of you to try," Daphne responded. She realized she still wasn't making much of an attempt of getting dressed so she started to try to reach around and unzip her dress. She realized it would be a lot easier to do with her wand so she turned to look for that as well. The turning made her shift the opposite way and she ended up just sort of falling over onto her pillow.

"I did more than try," Astoria smirked. "I turned on the waterworks coming outside of his office and managed to stumble upon Professor Slughorn."

"You are the worst," Daphne said.

"It was very easy to get Slughorn to make me what I wanted and here we are," Astoria said. She walked over toward Daphne's vanity and picked up the goblet of forest green liquid and brought it over as Daphne managed to sit up again. It smelled of pine and mint cast a blurry reflection when she stared into it.

"Thanks," Daphne said as she took the goblet from her sister. She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the foulness that was sure to come. She had enough experience with potions to know that the ones that didn't smell vile were often the worst. She hesitated for a final moment before bringing it to her lips and drinking.

To her surprise, it wasn't terrible. It was too minty, like a too powerful mouthwash, and so cold it hurt her teeth, but the flavor was tolerable. She didn't stop until the entire goblet was gone.

The effect was minor, but immediate. The world stopped spinning and an icy chill rushed through her, dulling the pain in her head. She closed her eyes and willed it to work faster.

"Professor Slughorn said it would likely take a bit to kick in, but was the best version he could make on short notice," Astoria said. She reached around her sister and undid the zipper on the back of her dress.

"Thanks," Daphne said. She stood and shood her sister away from her as she moved behind the modesty screen. Astoria rolled her eyes and moved to sit at her vanity.

"Because we're sooo different," she scoffed.

"You're weird," Daphne said.

"Maybe I just want to see how saggy I'll be in two years," Astoria teased.

"You'd have to grow something first," Daphne retorted as she got her clothing off. Of course, given that Astoria was more athletically inclined than she was, she doubted her sister had to worry. She reached out for her wand and cast a refreshing charm on herself, thinking that the warmth of a real shower would have been greatly preferred but judging from the clock on her nightstand she didn't have nearly enough time for that.

"Oh, shut up," Astoria said as Daphne continued to dress. She opted for Muggle casual and slid on some jeans and a warm sweater. She was pulling her hair back in a ponytail when she finally worked up the courage to ask the question that had been bothering her.

"Now why are you being so nice?"

"Can't it just be because I'm an absolute angel of a sister?" Astoria asked.

"It could be," Daphne said. "But that would have to be a very recent development as previous evidence indicates the contrary."

"I'm offended," Astoria scoffed.

"And I still haven't forgiven you for that thing with my stuffed animals," Daphne said.

"I was ten I didn't even know what was happening!" Astoria rolled her eyes.

"What do you want, Astoria?" Daphne asked as she slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped out from behind the vanity. A quick look in the mirror indicated she really needed makeup. Her eyes were sunken and she looked pale and a little ill. But she was starting to feel better with each moment so she hoped it would fade and that her parents wouldn't comment.

"You need to tell our parents I'm old enough to date," Astoria said.

"Because me telling them that will result in a positive reaction," Daphne said. She could see her father's raised brows and the general bemused expression that would adorn his face in the event of his teenage daughter 'telling' him to do something.

"Please talk to them," Astoria said.

"I wasn't aware they'd said you couldn't date," Daphne said.

"Well they haven't. But they told you that you couldn't until your fifth year," Astoria said. It was partially true. They'd told her she should worry about her school work more than boys. But that was after her mother had found her crying because of how poorly the Yule Ball had gone for her.

Astoria likely hadn't gotten the context of the conversation right as she'd eavesdropped as her mother had been talking about how she hadn't had any sort of relationship until her fifth year and it wasn't a bad thing if she waited to have a boyfriend.

"Why do you want to date?" Daphne asked.

"Dennis asked me to Hogsmeade and I want to go," Astoria said.

"Then go," Daphne responded.

"What if they get mad at me?" Astoria asked. "Or what if they don't want me to?"

"What are they going to do? Drop everything from their hospital shifts and come drag you out of Hogsmeade in front of all of your friends?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"You're thinking too hard about it."

"Please talk to them. Please, please please," Astoria begged.

"If they say anything I'll be wholly on your side," Daphne said. Astoria beamed at her.

"You are the best!" she rushed over to her and hugged her.

"Remember that for the next time you whine when I don't want to help with your Transfiguration homework at one in the morning," Daphne laughed, hugging her sister back.

A few minutes later they were walking up from the dungeons and toward the Great Hall. Astoria was giggling about how much fun they were going to have in London for the holidays. She wasn't wrong, they usually had a good time during the holiday season, even if their most common practice was to go to the various shopping centers and gawk at how festive the Muggles were.

They often wound up with quite a few new garments when all was said and done as well. And if they weren't too annoying about it, their mother often let them add the requisite charms to make them wearable themselves, with some supervision.

It wasn't the most fun work under the sun, and Daphne knew she would never be a magical seamstress, but it was a way to pass the evenings in London when she had little else to do.

Still, she was having a hard time listening to Astoria. Even if the pain in her head was gradually shifting to a dull throb, it still seemed to require more energy than it should be stay on her feet. And the scent of food from the Great Hall wasn't helping as it made her both realize how famished she was and want to vomit up whatever she'd managed to eat the night before. She assumed Astoria would have the decency to hold her hair in that situation but could only imagine how long it would take to live it down if she puked all over a hallway.

Thankfully for her, they didn't have to go into the Great Hall as their parents were waiting in the entrance. They took after their mother in nearly every respect except for the eyes, which came from their father. The two healers were standing off to the side of the Entrance Hall, near the stairs to Ravenclaw tower. They were whispering to each other and Daphne couldn't help but wonder if they were reliving some torrid school memory.

And then she remembered that was gross and made her want to vomit for more reasons other than the hangover and decided it best to not think about it any longer.

Astoria sprinted from her side and toward her parents. She hugged her father, giggling with glee as she did, before hugging her mother. Daphne moved more cautiously, both because she thought her sister was being ridiculous and because she was pretty sure she'd fall on her face if she tried to move faster. By the time she'd weaved through the other students and caught up to her sister, they were already mid conversation.

"Why didn't you stick around last night?" Astoria asked.

"Because we knew Daphne would rather celebrate than spend the night with her boring parents," her mother said. "I'm sure there was a party."

"There was!" Astoria giggled. "Pius Pringle was there."

"Really?" their mother said, looking rather intrigued. "How was he?"

"Full of himself," Daphne said.

"Good morning, Daphne," her father said with a warm smile.

"Your play was excellent," her mother added.

"Thank you," Daphne blushed at the compliment.

"There's been some talk that they want you to put it on a few more times after the holidays," her mother said.

"Really?" Daphne asked, suddenly convinced she'd forgotten every one of her lines.

"Yes. Your father and I are trying to get Professor Dumbledore to allow you to stage it at St. Mungo's for the kids there after term resumes."

"That would be fun," Daphne admitted.

"For you and the kids," Her father agreed.

"We have to make sure everyone is willing though. We were hoping for the Sunday after term resumes. It's too short notice to get everything square away during the holidays. Professor Burbage said we should ask all of you," her mother said.

"We did catch Viraj's daughter earlier. She seemed thrilled with the prospect," her father added. It took Daphne longer than it should have to remember that Viraj Patil worked in the hospital as well, although in a different wing than either of her parents.

"Oh look, there's two more you can ask," Astoria beamed as group of students emerged from the Great Hall. "Dennis! Harry! Over here!"

Daphne spun around, a move that was a mistake as it seemed to strengthen the pounding in her head and make the entire hall spin around her. She saw Harry Potter and Dennis Creevey emerge from the gaggle of students. It didn't shock her that Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown and Dennis's brother Colin were all there. And it took a moment for Daphne to realize that Astoria rather ought to have included Colin as well if they were trying to get permission for something.

"Hi Astoria," Dennis said, breathlessly, as he approached. His eyes were bright and it was instantly clear he was utterly enamored with the girl who'd called his name. Harry Potter; however, looked noticeably less happy to be summoned.

"Hi Dennis," Astoria giggled as he stood next to her. She turned to her parents and said, rather proudly, "He did all the lighting for the show."

"Not all of it," Dennis blushed and looked away from the adults.

"Most of it," Harry added and brought the attention right to him. Daphne thought Dennis looked rather relieved to no longer have the adults gaze fixated on him.

"You must be Sir Luckless," Daphne's mother said. She peered at Harry, knowing exactly who she was talking to, before she gave her daughter a pointed look. It took Daphne a moment to realize she was expected to make the introductions.

"Oh uhm. This is Harry Potter," Daphne said. "Harry these are my parents. Nathan and Claire Greengrass."

"A pleasure," Harry said. He offered his hand to her father in a move demonstrating more manners than Daphne expected from him. He ended up shaking both of their hands before the conversation continued.

"We were just talking about you," Claire Greengrass said.

"Whatever it is Astoria accused me of with those snowballs, I guarantee you that I had nothing to do with it," Harry said. Astoria giggled and Daphne felt her shoulders tense. Her parents at least seemed amused by the conversation.

"I suspect she earned it," Nathan Greengrass said.

"We are trying to get the students to perform the pantomime again, at St. Mungo's, after the holiday. A student performance seems like something that would be good for the children," Claire Greengrass said.

"That sounds fun," Harry said.

"You'd be willing to do it?" Mrs. Greengrass asked.

"Sure," Harry said. His words felt stiff and non-committal, like he expected something to come up preventing him from doing just that. But her parents didn't know him well enough to notice. Instead, they fawned over how magnanimous he was being. At some point Dennis interrupted to add that he would be more than willing to help stage anything again.

But something felt wrong to Daphne. Something about the way he stood next to her was off. He wouldn't look at her. Not even a simple glance or the stupid smirk he used when he was going to tease her. Not even when her mother made a comment about how she could be pushy, when persuading Leanne became a topic.

It felt so very wrong to her. She let the events of the night before sweep through her head. The play was amazing. And she'd been so caught up in it, and in performing with him, that she'd improvised a line and he'd kissed her right on stage.

Then they went to the party. Sure, they'd argued a bit, but they were always arguing about something or another. And it had looked like he was flirting with Astoria and she'd been jealous. Not that she'd admit that to him. Well maybe she would if it would make him smirk at her rather than ignore her.

They'd danced a lot and had a lot of mead. She remembered kissing him a bit. She chewed on her lip at the memory, as it had been nice and a part of her wanted to do it again, right now if she could get away with it. Which was something that she didn't seem to recall ever being much of a thing with Marcus.

But that was all she could really remember. She sort of remembered him walking her back to the common room, and Astoria helping her to her dormitory, but that was it. What had happened to have him seem so cold?

Or, she thought, had it he just gotten what he wanted and that was that? But what had he wanted? She didn't feel sore, and from what she'd heard from older girls was that she should after. But she was being stupid. There was no way she'd gotten so drunk she'd forget that.

Maybe she was just awful. A sinking feeling filled her as the thought sprung up in her mind. Marcus hadn't ever been very complimentary, but if she was honest, neither had she. She thought she knew what she was doing. But maybe she hadn't. Maybe he'd gone back to his dormitory and talked of nothing but how incompetent, how stupid, and how drunk she was.

She wasn't sure why that thought made her want to blink back tears.

"Daphne?" Her mother barked. Daphne blinked and looked over at her parents. Both were staring at her with confused expressions. Astoria and Dennis also seemed curious. Harry was looking anywhere but at her and it felt like he'd drifted a few feet from her.

"Hmm?" she mumbled.

"Are you okay?" her mom asked.

"Fine," she squeaked, but her mother was already on top of her, the Healer instincts kicking in. "Just a headache."

"Bit of that going around," Harry said

"You are a bit clammy," Mrs. Greengrass said

"I'm fine," Daphne muttered.

"Yeah you look it," Astoria teased.

"Shut up," Daphne retorted. She didn't quite catch Harry's smirk as they were still not looking at each other.

"And I think that it's time for us to leave before my daughters start fighting in public," Mr. Greengrass said.

"It was a pleasure to meet you," Harry said. The pleasantry earned him a brief smile as the Greengrass family moved to exit the school.

Daphne tuned out her parents as they made their way to Hogsmeade for the public floo at The Three Broomsticks. Her mother complained about the absurdity of not being allowed to use Professor Snape's floo and argued with her father about how she was sure Professor Flitwick wouldn't have had the same qualms.

Her father, Daphne could tell, didn't share her opinion on it but clearly knew better than to argue with her when she got an idea into her head. It was a familiar dance between the two of them and it was easy enough to tune out.

She wondered if she'd ever have a relationship like that. It was clear they adored each other. But they bickered. Constantly. Yet nothing they said ever seemed to annoy the other to the point of an actual fight. She didn't understand it. But, she guessed, she didn't need to.

The used the floo to head back to West Brompton. Daphne excused herself to her room to unpack the few things she'd brought home but instead tossed herself down face-first onto her bed and let sleep take her.

Astoria shook her awake later. She was dressed up and looking rather annoyed. Apparently Daphne had slept through her mother yelling at her to get ready for dinner. She found a suitable dress and threw it on, not bothering with much makeup or giving her hair a whole lot of attention.

No one commented though and they hopped into the floo once more. A short time later they were walking down Brick Lane heading toward Astoria's favorite curry joint. Daphne had obviously slept through the vote.

But she didn't mind too much. And that was only magnified by the fact that her stomach was still bothering her. They were seated at a small table in the window and Astoria started to regale her parents with every minute detail she could think of from the school year. Daphne tuned it out.

When her food came she poked at it but didn't eat a whole lot of it. When her father commented she used the excuse that she still didn't feel well. They didn't press her on it. It wasn't until desert came that her mother tried to rope her into the conversation.

"So Harry Potter," Mrs. Greengrass said, her eyes leveling onto her daughter.

"What about him?" Daphne asked.

"He's cute," her mother said.

"Ew mother! Don't be gross."

"And I don't think all the starring at you he was doing during the performance was acting," Her mother added.

"They are supposed to be in love," Daphne commented.

"Is there anything there? He seemed nice."

"I don't know," Daphne said. She didn't really want to have this conversation with her mother as it always felt weird to talk about boys.

"Well, he's fitter than Marcus at least," her mother added.

"Shallow much?" Daphne retorted.

"Hey, sometimes you'd rather just have something to look at," her mother teased. But she seemed to sense how uncomfortable her daughter was and didn't press the issue any further.

Once they'd finished their meal they returned home and had the family tradition of decorating the tree. It was perhaps a little late in the season for it, but they liked to do it together. After they sipped cocoa and enjoyed the ambiance.

The holidays passed quickly for her. Most of her days were spent out and about in London with Astoria. It was an enjoyable diversion from anything productive.

She found herself oddly disappointed that there wasn't any news from Harry for the entire break. But should there have been? She couldn't even remember what they'd left it at. She knew they'd agreed to go to Hogsmeade and snogged after the party but everything after that was a bit of a blur. Was that enough to warrant a letter during a short absence?

If she was honest, she didn't think so. And it didn't help her cause that she wasn't attempting to write him a letter. But she couldn't think of anything worth saying. Deep down she knew that meant he was almost certainly having the same issue.

Either way she'd almost convinced herself it wasn't a big deal by the time she and Astoria climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express to return to school. Astoria ditched her for Dennis Creevey almost as soon as they boarded. She wandered the compartments until she found a familiar face in Pansy and joined her.

She didn't see Harry until the feast. His back was to her and he was chatting with Ron Weasley and the little brunette chaser that Daphne didn't know the name of. She tried to think of something to get his attention but at that moment Professor Dumbledore gave his return to school speech and then she was distracted by food.

It wasn't until Tuesday that she realized she hadn't even spoken to him yet. She tried to corner him in Potions on Wednesday but Slughorn wouldn't shut up about how they'd be performing at St Mungo's that weekend and how it was obviously because of his, and Pius Pringle's endorsement. She had to bite her tongue from mentioning that her mother had been the one organizing it. But somehow during all of that conversation, Harry managed to completely disappear.

On Thursday evening a very confused looking second-year Ravenclaw ran up to her and handed her a piece of pristine white card stock. She peered down at the flowing green handwriting on it and blinked in surprise as she realized it was an invitation to a party in Slughorn's office that Saturday evening. The ending line, of how he hoped she would attend with Harry, felt off to her but it spurred her into action.

She waited in the entrance hall, sitting on the steps that led up to Gryffindor tower as she read through the assigned Transfiguration homework. He came in from the Quidditch pitch with both Weasleys.

"Oh, Hi Daphne," he said as she stood. Both Weasleys glared at her, which she found odd. She figured the younger girl had a crush on him and there had been some gossip about how they'd left Slughorn's party, but it seemed odd to see equal vitriol in Ron's face.

"Why are you ignoring me?" she asked. She frowned when she spoke, wondering why she'd asked that. She'd intended to say 'hi Harry' but that wasn't what came out.

"I'm not," Harry said.

"We haven't spoken since term resumed," she said. Harry opened his mouth to argue but he paused and then tilted his head. He thought for a moment, counting the days back on his fingers as he did.

"Huh," he said. "You're right."

"I know I'm right."

"Well, it wasn't intentional," Harry said. "I'm sorry if you thought it was. Just I completely screwed up the charms homework so Flitwick made me redo it, then Snape gave me that extra essay because I couldn't keep my mouth shut and then I had Quidditch-"

"It's alright it's fine," Daphne said, not seeing much of a reason for him to continue. She'd been busy too and his genuine surprise and concern at the question led her to believe it wasn't premeditated.

"We did most of our talking at events for the play anyway," Harry said. "We never really hung out outside of that."

"I guess you're right," she said.

"I figured we'd probably talk some tomorrow when we do the run through of the performance for Sunday," Harry said. "I'd actually been meaning to ask you something."

"Me too," Daphne said. "You go first."

"Did you still want to go to Hogsmeade Saturday?" he asked. Somehow his simple question sent a chill through her. Was that his way of saying he wasn't interested in hanging out with her? What had she done to deserve that.

"Yes," she said. She thought of mentioning Slughorn's party for after the Hogsmeade trip but thought better of it. "Why?"

"Well, I'm exhausted. And I'm sure the run-through will go late. And I don't want to be exhausted for Sunday. I was hoping we could do something more mellow," he explained. The icy feeling of rejection faded from her. He still wanted to do something with her, he just didn't want to go into town.

Of course, the more cynical part of her added, Marcus used to use a similar excuse for her to do his Transfiguration homework.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked.

"I'd like to take you somewhere I know where we'll be able to hang out just the two of us," Harry said. "Where we can be alone and unbothered.

"I see," she said. The sinking feeling returned. Alone and unbothered? While part of that sounded fine, it made her wonder exactly what had happened after Slughorn's party and if he'd be expecting something similar going forward.

"What do you say?" he asked. Daphne frowned and thought about it for a moment.

"I was really looking forward to Hogsmeade," Daphne said.

"It'll be fun, I promise," Harry countered.

"You're not going to like, con me into doing your homework or something, are you?" Daphne asked.

"Assuming tomorrow isn't awful I should have all my homework done by the weekend," Harry said.

"Can we go to Professor Slughorn's party in the evening at least? You have a ready-made excuse to leave early with wanting to rest for the performance," Daphne asked.

"I told Neville I'd go to the Conjurations and Catacombs event he was hosting. A character creation event I think."

"You'd rather play some silly dice game with Neville than go to Slughorn's party with me?"

"Well, honestly, no."

"You hate Slughorn," Daphne countered.

"But not you," Harry said. "Slughorn's party, and Slughorn's party with you are two different things. Honestly if Neville wasn't so excited about it, I'd blow it off but he's really into it and honestly the game sounds kind of fun."

"I see," Daphne said. They both looked away from each other and paused for a moment.

"I'll figure out something else," Harry said after a few moments. "We can go to Slughorn's party."

"Really?" Daphne found herself surprised by how easily he caved on that given that he'd previously gone to what most would consider insane lengths to not be around Professor Slughorn.

"Yeah, why not? But I'm shoving you in front of Slughorn whenever he wants to talk to me," Harry teased with that annoying smirk of his. She wouldn't admit it, but it was growing on her and it made her want to do all sorts of mostly inappropriate things to him whenever he showed it.

"Deal," Daphne laughed.

"Noon on Saturday then?" Harry asked.

"Okay," Daphne agreed. "How should I dress?"

"We're not going to leave the castle, so, comfortably I guess?" Harry said. She raised her brows and figured that, no matter what she said, he wasn't going to give her a hint as to his plans.

"Alright," she said, finding that not knowing actually amused her a great deal more than any other date she could remember. "See you tomorrow for the rehearsal then."

"Good night, Daphne," he said. And then he leaned over and kissed her. It wasn't much more than a peck on the lips, but it felt like more. He pressed his forehead to hers after he lifted his lips from hers. It was a tiny gesture, their skin barely touching for more than a moment, but it sent a shiver through her whole body before he started to walk toward Gryffindor tower.

"Good night, Harry," she said as she watched him climb the stairs. She thought, as she finally started to walk away, that he might have been onto something with watching people you liked walk away.

Friday flew by. Their final rehearsal was slightly choppy at first. It seemed that all of them blanked on a few lines here or there, but once they got through the tavern scene it all came back rather quickly.

This time Daphne didn't improvise her final command to Sir Luckless, but it didn't matter as Harry's lips found Amata's with far less hesitance than they had a couple of weeks earlier.

After they were done with the whole thing, Professor Burbage had them redo a few scenes with some extra commentary before she pulled them all aside and gave a half hour lecture on what she expected of their behavior while at the hospital.

When that was over Daphne found herself walking out with Padma and Leanne. It occurred to her that Harry wasn't joining them, which she found odd. She looked over her shoulder and saw him talking to Professor Burbage. She seemed to be thanking him for something. She meant to walk back over to him and ask him about it, but then Astoria was dragging her to something or other and she'd long since learned that there were times it was easier to just give into Astoria.

Unfortunately her sister only wanted to discuss Dennis Creevey and what exactly should happen on a Hogsmeade date. It involved far too many questions and a lot of things that Daphne was fairly positive she didn't know about when she was fourteen. But it really wasn't that bad of a way to spend an evening. Astoria's general confusion was rather endearing and she entertained herself by wondering if Dennis Creevey was pelting Harry Potter with similar questions.

Daphne found herself rather giddy all the next morning. She didn't see Harry at breakfast, but given that the ceiling showed perfectly clear skies she figured that if he was awake he was on the Quidditch pitch.

After she ate Astoria insisted that she help her get ready. Daphne rolled her eyes at her sister but agreed when she realized it was technically her first ever date. She walked her back to the common room and ducked into her dormitory to change, figuring Astoria would preen until it was time to meet Harry.

She threw on a comfortable kit, oddly a Christmas gift that year from her sister, grabbed a zippered jumper and hopped up the stairs out of the Sixth Year girls' dormitories. She took the four steps across the small corridor and hopped right down the stairs into Astoria's dormitory.

It didn't surprise her in the least that she was right about getting her sister ready. It was eleven fifty-seven when Astoria finally decided it was time to go find Dennis. It was just after noon when she pushed her surprisingly nervous sister at the younger Creevey brother and watched them exit to the grounds with an odd sense of sisterly pride filling her as Dennis couldn't take his clearly enamored eyes off of her.

After they were gone she realized that she and Harry hadn't agreed on a spot to meet up. She spun around, wondering where the best spot to look for him would be, only to find that he was standing feet from her with that dopey grin on his face.

"Well, that's convenient," she said.

"Yes indeed," Harry said, giving no indication of how long he'd waited for her or how he'd found her as she walked toward him. She noticed he was holding a shrunken basket in his hand.

"So where are you taking me?" she asked.

"Seventh floor corridor," Harry said and gestured to the hallway that would lead to the first staircase.

"You're assuming that we'll be left alone purely because no one will want to do seven flights of stairs on a Saturday?" Daphne asked.

"Nope," Harry said as they walked up the first flight. They moved at a saunter up all of the stairs. It amused her that he wasn't winded at the top. Belby would have been. Her mother had always insisted on good cardio, and while she certainly didn't jog as much as Claire Greengrass would have liked, or as much as her sister did, she'd always been able to outpace Marcus on stairs.

"What's even up here?" she asked.

"The Room of Requirement," Harry said.

"I don't know what that is," Daphne replied. Harry just smirked at her. He walked down toward a bare stone wall and then spun around on his heel walking back toward her. When he was nearly even with her, he spun around again and repeated it. On his third turn a door shimmered into existence. He opened it with a flourish and gestured for her to enter.

Harry followed her in. The room was a small sitting room with elaborate furnishing. A comfortable looking couch sat before a lit fireplace, a wireless in the corner played soft music. The fireplace warmed the room to a rather cozy degree. So much so, in fact, that Daphne unzipped her jumper as soon as she entered.

Harry noticed, as his eyes shifted upwards, that she wore a short-sleeved blue athletic shirt with the number twenty-five on the back. She spun around before he bothered reading the name. His eyes rested on the 'Coors' on her chest as it took him a few extra moments to read the word.

"What is this?" she asked. She hung the jumper on a nearby hook as he closed the door.

"I told you," Harry said, walking into the room with her. "The Room of Requirement."

"And that is?" Daphne asked.

"Where I taught Defense last year," Harry said.

"Seems kind of small," she responded, peering around.

"It can be whatever you want it to be. And no one can get it unless they know what you've made it. I only ever bothered to tell Ron and Hermione how to open it," Harry said. He walked up to the table beside the fireplace and placed the basket down on it. A quick flick of his wand returned it to normal size.

"And you wanted this?" she asked.

"I wanted someplace cozy and comfortable where we could relax in peace," Harry said as he drew out Dobby's idea of a light lunch. It consisted of a charcuterie board, a fig and olive platter, an assortment of random breads and pastries, a pitcher of water, butterbeer and a staggering six bottles of Professor Slughorn's mead. "This is what the room came up with."

"Interesting," she said, sitting on the edge of the couch and watching him take out the food. "Where did you come up with all of that?"

"I'm friends with one of the elves in the kitchens," Harry said as he conjured glasses for the drinks.

"It all looks pretty good," Daphne said. She reached out and took one of the bottles of butterbeer and popped it open.

"I thought so too," Harry said, joining her on the couch. "One thing did surprise me though."

"What's that?"

"Chelsea?" he asked, gesturing to her shirt. She looked down at it and blushed slightly.

"Yeah, who do you support?"

"United," Harry said. If he was honest, it only happened because Dudley supported Arsenal and United winning tended to irritate his cousin the most.

"Fucking Manchester United," Daphne corrected, figuring he should at least get his favorite team's name correct.

"The one and only. Your dad's club?" Harry asked. He seemed oddly interested and she wondered why.

"Mother's, actually," Daphne said as it all clicked. He didn't have parents to take any traditions from. She wondered for a moment what the Muggles he lived with were like. He never really talked about them. "Although Dad adopted them too."

"Really?" Harry asked. "That doesn't seem common for witches."

"My mother was actually really good. She got scouted for the National Team as a teen. But magic made everything harder and she decided Hogwarts was more fun than the pitch. I think she regrets it sometimes," Daphne said.

"A pureblood witch footballer?" Harry asked.

"Halfblood," Daphne corrected.

"I thought the Greengrass' were Purebloods," Harry said.

"There might still be a branch that is," Daphne shrugged. "I'm not sure who cares."

"Fair enough," Harry said. He had a fairly good idea who cared but he sensed it was best to avoid further conversation down that line. "Did you play?"

"Some," Daphne said. "Astoria was running circles around me by the time she was eight though. She still does the camps in the summer and some holiday training. She was going to tryout for Quidditch but the most recent Slytheirn captains don't seem to think females are very good players."

"Two of the better ones on my team," Harry said. He frowned and Daphne realized he was including Katie Bell in that and given her current situation at the moment it was understandable. The good news was she'd woken up and would likely be able to attend their performance.

"I think she regrets we didn't play more. I enjoyed it in primary school. She and dad are probably making another attempt at the star athlete," Daphne said. Harry chuckled as he started on a butterbeer of his own. An idea struck him mid sip.

"I wonder," he said, raising his wand and pointing it at the wireless. It took a minute and more focus than he thought and, in the end, he was pretty sure it was the Room of Requirement and not his spell, that caused the station to change right as Zola took possession.

It worked though, as Daphne gave him one of the brightest smiles he'd ever seen from her. She shifted so she was facing the wireless and leaned against him on the couch.

"Still," she said, "I'm pretty sure my parents would kill me for dating a Manchester United fan."

"I've a feeling my loyalty isn't as staunch as yours and could be bought rather easily," Harry said.

"Definitely a Manchester United fan," Daphne giggled.

"I'm hurt," Harry said. He took a sip of his butterbeer and debated leaning forward to get some food, but that would force her to sit up and he rather liked her weight resting against him.

Chelsea was down one at the half. Daphne leaned forward and made herself a small plate of food while the commentators droned on about what they could do to turn the match around. Harry ignored it while eating as well. After a few moments though he got antsy and an idea struck him. A small goal appeared in the corner and a football appeared on the table.

"Seriously?" Daphne chuckled.

"Well, we have a few minutes before the match returns," Harry teased.

"And no one to yell at us for kicking a ball around inside," Daphne said. "Although had I known I'd have worn better shoes."

"I'm sure the room could supply something," he said. He stood and moved over toward the goal, smirking at her.

"Eh, I think I'm going to need a handicap anyway," Daphne said. She picked up the ball and juggled it with her knees before dropping it onto the ground. She dribbled it around hesitantly and then just as Harry relaxed, kicked it straight past him and into the net.

In the end, he figured she needed a bigger handicap. He stopped a few, but not nearly as many as he would have hoped for. And the worst part was that she didn't seem to be putting forth that much effort.

He vaguely remembered Dean Thomas saying that a quick pickup match on the pitch before Quidditch practice would be an excellent warmup. No one had agreed with him but now Harry was wondering if he should try it out the next few practices.

There was only about thirty minutes left in the match when they sat back down on the couch and resumed eating. Chelsea didn't mount a comeback and ended up losing 2-0. Daphne frowned as time expired.

"Sorry," Harry said.

"Can't win them all. Should have been an easier win though," Daphne said, still frowning. Harry slid an arm around her shoulders and enjoyed how she shifted against him. After a few minutes of the post-match commentary talking about how embarrassing of an upset it was, Harry shifted the wireless back to music.

Daphne finished her drink and leaned forward to grab another one. Harry watched her hand hesitate, and then shift toward the bottles of mead. She poured two glasses and offered one to Harry.

"Might be a little early but why not," Harry said.

"It'll make relaxing easier," Daphne said, sipping hers and leaning back against him on the couch. "But I'm so not having more than two."

"That sounds like a good choice," Harry said. "I don't think my headache went away for two days last time."

"Ha," Daphne teased. "I was mostly coherent by the next evening."

"Mostly coherent?" Harry questioned.

"I managed to read the Charms chapter while in the bathtub and didn't screw up the homework to the point Flitwick made me redo it," Daphne said.

"Ah." Harry took a sip of his mead and hoped the blush wasn't apparent on his cheeks. Daphne seemed to expect more of a response and frowned when one didn't come.

"Sorry, was that too much? I was just teasing," she said.

"What?"

"About the homework."

"Oh, no, sorry, I was just thinking about you in a bathtub," Harry admitted.

"You're such a dork," Daphne countered, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks as she took a turn at distracting herself with drink.

"Sorry," he said. "Kind of a distracting thought though. Anyway, it did remind me of something."

"What's that?"

"A couple days ago you said you wanted to ask me something and then we got side tracked and it occurred to me you never got to ask the question," Harry said.

"Oh, right," Daphne said.

"What did you want to ask?"

"It's not important."

"Ask anyway," Harry said. She shifted against him and seemed to shrink a little as she took another sip of her drink.

"What happened after Slughorn's party?" she asked.

"You don't remember?" he asked.

"No. I remember falling down the stairs. And then kissing a lot in a classroom. Then there was something about a bucket I think. And then Astoria was hitting me with pillows," Daphne said.

"Astoria was hitting you with pillows?" Harry repeated finding himself incredibly confused.

"It was how she woke me up the next morning," Daphne clarified.

"Sounds like I missed the best part," Harry said.

"I don't know if I should be relieved or mortified," Daphne sighed. She leaned herself against him again and he put his arm around her on instinct. "Do you not remember what happened."

"I do."

"Tell me."

"Well, you have it right. We left the party, fell down the stairs outside of the party, and then ducked into a classroom. We kissed rather a lot. I got pretty handsy," Harry started to explain.

"How handsy?" Daphne interrupted. Harry raised his brows at her and let his hand trace down her arm before sliding it over and cupping her breast.

"About that handsy," Harry said.

"Hey!" Daphne exclaimed, but made no motion to move away from him or move his hand. Harry let it return to its normal position.

"After a while you slipped out of my lap, kneeled down in front of me and got equally handsy. You went for my belt, telling me I deserved a reward, and then called me Marcus," Harry said.

"I did not!" Daphne gasped. Harry peered down at her to notice that she was flushed crimson and not making any attempt to look at him.

"You did too," Harry said. "It sort of killed my buzz and I took you back to your common room. Met Astoria on the way back and I gather she got you into bed."

"I didn't," Daphne reiterated.

"Get to bed?"

"Call you Marcus."

"You did."

"I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"That's why you were upset with me," Daphne said.

"I wasn't upset with you," Harry repeated. "I mean I was a bit annoyed when it happened and thinking about you doing things like that with Belby wasn't something I enjoyed. But, after I thought about it for more than a minute-"

"But you were ignoring me," Daphne interjected. "You didn't write to me over the holiday or anything.

"I mean, I forgot to bring my owl when I went to the Weasley's. And I guess I was but it wasn't because I was mad," Harry said.

"Then why?" she asked. Harry pressed his lips together and took another sip of mead to buy some time. He wasn't quite sure how to word this without it sounding stupid. Which, he figured, meant he was just being stupid.

"I didn't want to seem needy," Harry said.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, all we'd really done was dance a little and drunkenly snogged. And you'd called me by someone else's name. Sure, we'd made plans for Hogsmeade but we were both kind of in the bag when that happened. So, I didn't want to read too much into it."

"What?" Daphne asked as if he'd just tried to argue potions properties with Professor Snape.

"I didn't want to be that weird guy who starts following you around, or expecting you to be around me at all times, or that assumes too much. If you'd just wanted to use me to get Belby out of your head I figured okay fine, whatever," Harry started.

"I do not want that," Daphne countered.

"I don't either. But I also didn't want to…I don't know it's hard to explain. I guess I didn't want you to feel like you owed me something. Which is dumb as why would you? But there was just this nagging feeling after that it wasn't wholly because you wanted to. That it was probably just the drink," Harry explained.

"I'm not sure if I should feel insulted or not," Daphne said.

"I'm sorry if you do," Harry replied with as earnestly as he could. "I'm just trying to say what I felt. I'm probably not doing a very good job at putting it into words."

"You're doing fine. Remind me that if we ever have sex to make sure we're both sober for it," she teased. It came out a bit flat, but it still made Harry blush.

"Okay," Harry agreed.

"Now I have an idea," Daphne said as she set down her half-finished glass of mead on the table.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Well," Daphne said as she shifted on the couch until she was straddling him. She reached toward him and cupped his face in her hands. "Rather than talk about what I want or what I felt, I think I'll just show you."

He met her halfway when they kissed. It lasted for longer than either of them realized as they lost themselves in the gentle feeling of their lips touching. It was slow, relaxed and neither of them seemed to feel the need to press for more. Harry shifted his hands to her hips, resting them there, not wanting to press his luck while they kissed. Which meant he was a little surprised minutes later when she lifted his lips from his and his hands we cupping her bottom.

She pressed her forehead to his and looked right at his eyes. Her breathing was steadier than his, but her breath did fog his glasses some as she whispered.

"You know what I think, Harry?" she asked.

"What's that?" he replied in a whisper.

"I think that you taste nice, Harry," she said.

"Oh, uhm, you too," he blushed.

"I think I like kissing you, Harry," she added. She shifted to demonstrate how much she liked that by kissing around his face and neck, letting her lips trail tantalizingly over his skin.

"Me too," Harry said, his voice seeming oddly high as her lips traced over his skin.

"Good. Because I want you to be my boyfriend, Harry," she whispered into his ear, enjoying the feeling of him as he shivered against her. She kissed his cheek once more then shifted back and looked at him, awaiting an answer.

"Oh, uhm..I'd like that," he responded, his voice little more than a whisper. She nodded her assent and kissed him once more before committing the cardinal sin of sliding off his lap.

"Good," she said. "Now let's work on that United fandom problem, eat some lunch, and get our energy back for round two."

"Sounds good to me," he smiled.

Hours later he found himself still on the couch in the Room of Requirement. But this time he was shirtless and laying on his back with Daphne and a thick blanket draped over him. Her arm was thrown loosely around him as her head rested on his chest.

He'd woken a few minutes earlier and decided that he rather liked the current position and saw no reason to wake or move her. One hand trailed up and down her back while the other worked into her hair, enjoying how soft and pliable it felt in his fingers. He was instantly reminded that she'd seemed to like when he'd tugged on it, mostly by accident, earlier in the afternoon. But, while he'd rather enjoyed the noise she'd made after he'd done it, it seemed rude to do so while she was asleep.

They'd kissed for hours. He wasn't quite sure when his shirt had come off, but he'd rather liked her nails on his bare skin, so he hadn't minded. He'd gotten his hands under hers, but hadn't been brave enough to try to lift it up and over her head.

Eventually they'd cuddled up on the couch and listened to the music as they caught their breath. Somewhere in there they'd dozed off.

A shrill buzzing started from Harry's left. His entire body tensed as he looked around for the source of the noise only to see Daphne's wand buzzing on the table.

"Five more minutes," she muttered, burrowing closer to him on the couch. Harry saw no real reason to argue with her. It only took two minutes for the buzzing to annoy her enough to sit up and deactivated the alarm on her wand.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"I set it this morning as a reminder for when I'd have to get ready for Slughorn's party," Daphne said as she stretched her arms over her head in a way that Harry found rather appealing. Far more appealing than the thought of Slughorn's party.

"Right, that," Harry said, trying and failing to sound excited as he sat up on the couch.

"You said you'd go with me," Daphne said. She lay back, her head resting in his lap as she stared up at him.

"And I will," Harry said, leaning down to kiss her.

"Good," she responded, returning the kiss. They both seemed to think that kissing was more important than the party though, and so they continued where they'd left off.

Eventually they broke apart and rose from the couch. Daphne took his hand as they started to walk out of the room. It caught him by surprise, but after a moment he decided he liked it and squeezed.

"What was Longbottom's thing anyway?" she asked as they walked out of the Room of Requirement.

"Initial get together. He was going to see how many people were interested in a game and then help make characters and see what night worked out the best and stuff," Harry explained.

"I don't know much about the game other than it uses dice to determine things," Daphne admitted.

"Me either," Harry said. "But he's a good friend and I it sounded fun when he would talk about it so I figured it would be worth a try."

"Alright. Let's go," Daphne said.

"What?" Harry blinked. "Didn't you want to go to Slughorn's party?"

"Yes. But I also don't really want to go dress up and you'll take me to his next party anyway," Daphne said.

"I will," Harry said. It was odd, he thought, he actually wanted to take her to the next party now. He wondered if she'd hexed him when he wasn't looking.

"Then let's go see what all the fuss is about with Conjurations and Catacombs," Daphne said.

"Okay," Harry smiled. He paused for a moment and added. "Thank you, Daphne."

"It's alright. I know I'm an amazing girlfriend," she said.

"Best I've had," Harry countered.

"Cheeky, aren't you," Daphne teased, knowing that was a very low bar to scale. But she squeezed his hand and they moved down the stairs toward the classroom Neville had booked for his event feeling content with themselves and with each other, all the while looking forward to whatever else the evening, month, or year would bring.

Author's Note: I am now available on PAT RE ON at Te7writes. If you'd like to support me there, I do appreciate it. Thank you for taking the time to read and review I do appreciate all of it.